RESILIENCE

samara godfrey for risingpeaksrp

[ofnecromantia]

whatever you think you know about SAMARA GODFREY, the 26 year old, BISEXUAL, NEW COMER, it is likely time for you to start reconsidering. the rumored WITCH (NECROMANCER) is often described as INDEPENDENT + RESILIENT, but don’t let them fool you; they can also be RESENTFUL + BOLSHIE, which often has them regarded as THE BROKEN BIRD. they are a CLERK at CLEAR CRYSTALS, but it’s also said they are a MEMBER within the CRESCENT COVEN.

BASICS

Full Name: samara fatima godfrey.  Age: 26.  Birth: june 6, 1996 in lower slaughter, england.  Gender/Pronouns: cis woman (she|her).  Species: witch (necromancer).  Family: tristan godfrey (father, alive), alia sharma (mother, deceased). Affiliations: crescent coven (member), clear crystals (clerk). Relationship status: secretly dating zara mckenna.

APPEARANCE

Faceclaim: anya chalotra.  Eye Color: brown.  Hair Color: dark brown.  Height: 5′9″.  Tattoos, Birthmarks, Scars, etc: four faint laceration scars on her back (below her left shoulder blade).

BIOGRAPHY

death tw, animal death tw, violence tw

Samara Godfrey was born to a small witch coven in Lower Slaughter, England, primarly raised by her mother Alia Sharma. Her father, Tristan Godfrey, was a beta of the local werewolf pack, keeping in contact with his daughter though he could barely be around due to his position within the pack. She was loved and cared for, by both of her parents and the coven, her powers flourishing under her mother's guidance. However, Samara inherited necromancy from her grandmother, Alia's efforts to hide it proving futile when ten year old Samara reanimated a pet for a friend, the coven’s affection soon turning to revulsion.

Fearing what the dark magic's influence and how the local vampire nest would react, the leader decided to get rid of Samara, intending to do so in secret as they didn't want to lose Alia. They didn't succeed, Alia killing the leader before they could hurt Sam, the whole coven turning on them. Alia lost her life to protect her daughter, Tristan and his pack showing up just in time to stop the remaining witches from killing Sam. The little girl was found by her father curled up next to her mother's reanimated corpse, the werewolf having to forcefully end Samara's influence on Alia's body as she was not in full control of her powers at the time.

Sam spent a large portion of her childhood relocating, unable to find a place to call home. From time to time, Sam and her father would catch a break, meet a group or independent supernatural willing to help them, but eventually rumors of a necromancer would reach them. Some wanted to hurt her, some wanted to use her, and others simply wanted to protect themselves; the reason would change, but the outcome remained the same. The Godfreys had to keep moving. Through the years, Sam came to blame herself for her family’s misfortunes, attempting to leave her father multiple times. Tristan always found her though, reminding his daughter they were stronger together.

At twenty, Samara and Tristan decided to cross the Atlantic, traveling through North America. They were on their own for a while, but eventually found themselves in a small Arizona town. There, they met the leader of the Belnades coven, who offered to take them in without hesitation. Desperate for a place to call home, Samara was quick to trust them, the fact the leader accepted her even when it was revealed she was a necromancer reinforcing the young witch's desire to stay with the coven, daughter and father finally able to find a semblance of peace.

They remained with the Belnades coven for four years, Samara allowing herself to open up to others. She made friends, and eventually came to see the Belnades as her family, believing the leader's interest in her didn’t have anything to do with her powers. That was reveled to be false after her 25th birthday, when the leader took Samara to the city and forced her to control a local vampire. It turned out that the leader hated vampires, and they wanted to use Samara to eradicate them.

The incident lead the vampire nest right to the witches, the Belnades coven coming under attack in the middle of the night. Samara and Tristan were the only survivors, the two once again forced to move. Four months ago, they settled in Creation Peaks, Tristan encouraging Sam to join the local coven for protection. Though she is trying to become a full member of the Crescent coven, Sam is unable to truly bond with the other witches, keeping the fact she is a necromancer a secret as she believes they will too turn on her if they know.

[ofnecromantia]

status: closed, for Dimitri Valentine ( @thedevilsadvxcate​ )  location: clear crystals

Thanks to the protection spells put in place before the storm, Clear Crystals was one of the handful of shops in town still standing. For humans, the store being open meant very little. For witches and those familiar with magic however, having supplies readily available close to home was a blessing. Business was constant thanks to that, Sam finding herself busy most of her shift. It wasn't exactly what she preferred, but it made time pass faster, and she at least could be grateful for that.

Things began to settle down a few minutes before closing, Samara inspecting the aisles to see what needed to be restocked or put back in its place. Her concentration was interrupted when she heard the bell of the front door, turning the corner to meet the new customer. But seeing who it was, Sam arched an eyebrow. "Twice in one day," she commented, returning to her previous task. "You are either very busy. Or very wasteful."

[ofnecromantia]

hellhoundjoesph​:

“Humans are so greedy. 5 dollars for a loaf of bread. Its insane.” Caterina sighed as she listened to Soleil.The hellhound had been in a mood since the people had been found in the mountains and she wasn’t sure how to handle it. Her head tilted some as she thought about if she really wanted the bread or not. “Well this is the bread I prefer for grilled cheese.” She shrugged some and put the bread in the cart before moving on.

@risingpeaksreblogs​

.

Distracted by the report about those who'd been found in the mountains from a newspaper she grabbed from a shelve, Sam was standing in the bread aisle when she heard the woman next to her speak. There was no one else around, and she didn't have a phone in her hand, so the witch assumed the stranger had attempted to start a conversation with her. That or the woman was speaking with herself. Neither one was a good option.

"Okay..." Samara said. "Good thing they have it then."

[ofnecromantia]

morallymulticolor​:

Disasters [Tristan||Samara]

@ofnecromantia

After the unnatural blizard was done, tragedy had descended upon the small town. The townies, however, made the best of the situation as they could—search parties, reconstruction, etc had begun as soon as the weather had allowed. Tristan had been part of the emergency response when the storm first hit, so he had won a day off before having to go back into the chaos that his work currently was stuck in. 

Returning to the home he shared with his daughter, the werewolf walked in with an old ship wheel. “So…. she was brutalized,” he stated, dropping the helm on the couch with a sad expression on his features. “That’s all I could find of her.” Perhaps because he missed the Golden Age of pirates, but he’d bought a sail boat a decade prior that had become his most prize possession: the Wolfden… Or it used to be until it sank during the demonic storm. 

.

Ever since the snow storm past, the Crescent coven kept themselves busy. They aided in the reconstruction of town, helped in the efforts to find those who’d gone missing, and began doing research to figure out who or what exactly was behind the recent misfortunes that plagued Creation Peaks. But while most within the coven drove themselves sick with so many worries, Samara's mind was preoccupied by only one thing.

The wolf had never been very open about his involvement with the demons, always giving the witch half answers or changing the subject. His priority was always Sam's safety, so the idea of him being some sort of soldier for the Devil never felt important. It never felt real. Tristan was just her father. And a very old werewolf. Nothing more, nothing less. Could his suggestion to move to Creation Peaks been part of some sort of master plan all along?

Samara was sitting on the living room floor, surrounded by her father's old journals, when Tristan walked into the house. Despite the wolf's dramatic statement, the witch glanced at him nonchalantly, brown eyes returning to the books when the steering helm was dropped on the couch. "How terrible," she deadpanned. "Guessing the demon’s insurance plan doesn't cover boats?"

[ofnecromantia]

fayeoflightboi​:

“A little more positive than I expected,” the Light Faye teased when Samara sighed. “Rude, but I’ll forgive it due to our current situation.” When she mentioned he was aware of some unnatural occurrences behind the storm, Marshall opened his eyes wide at the witch—feigning surprise. “Faye not so useless after all, hmmm?” he teased with sour amusement.

“You and Harper really enjoy stepping all over my pride,” he simply answered when Samara noted the Faye weren’t strong to combat the storm nor create it. However, as Samara brainstormed, Marshall chuckled sourly, looking out a window at the dark clouds overhead and the whited out town. Perhaps demons weren’t common knowledge in their world either. Which was a bit frustrating. It was always the humans coming up with random records—because he refused to call the Faye’s poetic, abstract bullshit legitimate records.

“So what does that leave…”

Marshall sighed. “Demons.”

.

Samara narrowed her eyes slightly at Marshall. "Don't get ahead of yourself, pixie." She was taking the credit back. It would only serve to inflate the light faye's delicate ego, and she had no desire to do that. The witch's eyebrows rose and relaxed again. "You make yourself easy prey." Though what exactly did he have to feel proud about? She had no idea. Samara realized then she actually knew very little about Marshall, and most of what she did know had been forced on her without her approval. She understood now why Harper gave him such a hard time.

His words confirmed her suspicions. "Not just any demons..." Her gaze quickly rose, focusing past the deputy. "I have to talk to my father," Sam said, pushing past Marshall for the second time that day. When she arrived in the room she was sharing with her father though, the werewolf wasn't there, the witch cursing under her breath. She returned to the hallway, searching the area for the older Godfrey, sighing in frustration when she didn't spot him. Seeing Marshall was still hanging around, Samara glared at him. 

"What do you know?" she demanded.

[ofnecromantia]

hellsqueenlilith​:

“Did I catch you off guard?” Lilith asks in return as she kept her eyes up towards the mountain, she was sure she could Lucifer’s voice beckoning her to come for him. All in due time of course, she had to remind herself. “Not lost, no. Though with a storm like this I would venture there are a great number getting lost, seeking shelter in the wrong places.” Her son felt a kinship to the witches of the world, much like her own to demon kind even those who were created rather than hatched between her and Lucifer. However till the last seal was broken sentiments like that would have to wait. “I do believe you should be careful, there is something out in the wood.”

.

Samara's gaze followed the woman's, unsure what to make of the other's focus on the mountains. "Wasn't exactly expecting people to be standing around during a snow storm," she retorted, brown eyes settling on the blonde again. The witch didn't recognize her, couldn't recall ever seeing her at the occult shop or around town. It could mean nothing, since Samara wasn't the social type and rarely ventured anywhere crowded. But it did make her weary of the stranger, the witch making no effort to shorten the distance between them. "Yeah..." Sam agreed halfheartedly, her brow furrowing further. "People often do stupid shit while in a panic." The witch inspected their surroundings, intending to say goodbye and continuing her journey to the medical center. But at the mention of something being in the woods, Sam's attention quickly shifted back to the woman. "What do you mean?"

[ofnecromantia]

thewaywardprotector​:

“I’m not moving.” Zara huffed like a petulant child, sitting on a counter in the bathroom, throwing her head back in frustration. It felt like they’d been working on this for hours, and all she could think about was all the things that needed to be done, both hunter-wise and deputy-wise. But there was no chance of Samara leaving her before she was done, so like a good girlfriend she sat there and took it.

She got up, about to throw her shirt back on when she was told to let them dry and she groaned again, but nodded. “I know, you’re doing it for my own good, I’m thankful, okay?” She sighed, cupping her cheek and kissing her softly. She was being a brat, and she knew it. It just felt like one thing after another, and honestly it was… overwhelming.

“… I don’t know.” She answered honestly, leaning against the sink as she waited for the ink to dry, watching Samara put her things away. “Deputy patrol’ll be a few hours, after that… hunter patrol. One of our guys said something on radio about a large creature in the snow, and… we haven’t heard anything from him since.” She bit her lip, shaking her head. “Don’t worry I’m not going out there… this place is a powder keg all by itself, so many people all stuck in one place.”

“So how do these things work, anyway?” She asked, motioning to the symbols. “How are they going to help?”

.

Samara arched a brow at the other's groan. "This pettish attitude is truly attractive." Her gaze focused on Zara, the hint of a smirk visible on her lips. The witch guessed the huntress deserved a break on this occasion, even if her impatience was quite annoying. It had only been a few weeks since Zara discovered the existence of angels and demons, such revelation bound to leave any human overwhelmed and disoriented. And to her credit, the truth was the small brunette was taking the news far better than most in her position would.

Sam kissed Zara back, shrugging slightly. "A little gratitude more often would be appreciated though," she teased, turning her attention to the items on the bathroom counter. She listened to the other's answer to her question, brow furrowing at the mention of a hunter encountering one of the creatures roaming around in the storm. "There is something out there, my father saw it." Her gaze settled on the huntress, shaking her head. "It's nothing any of you want to mess with. Trust me." She decided not to share the fact her colleague was most likely dead already, not wanting Zara to worry further. "Plenty in here to keep us busy," she agreed, glad to hear the huntress had no intention of leaving the medical center. Sam hoped she kept that attitude.

When Zara asked about the symbols, Samara turned to face her. "Each one has a different purpose," she explained, then pointed at the one closest to Zara’s left wrist. "This one is called the Enochian Guard; it prevents demonic and angelic possession, which you'll know was attempted because the area where the symbol is will get warm. It's rumored to only work seven times, so you need to pay attention to how dark the ink is. The lighter it gets, the less effective it’ll be." Sam pointed at the symbol in the middle of her left forearm. "The Enochian Emissary stops demons and angels from locating you. As long as the drawing remains intact, neither will be able to find you. So make sure it doesn't fade."

Samara grabbed the hunting knife, offering it to Zara. "That one is called Enochian Shield. It protects you from demonic and angelic attacks, and can push them back several miles if they charge at you." She sighed. "However, it also only works seven times. So if it fades, it means it's time to redraw." She remained silent then, shrugging after a moment. "The one on your right arm is witchcraft," she admitted. "So we can find each other at all times."

[ofnecromantia]

fayeoflightboi​:

Marshall had forgotten how rough around the edges all of the witches were… and it made their roots make sense. “Great! I always did love your ability to look at the glass half-full,” the Light Faye jested with a chuckle that was abruptly interrupted when the witch shoved past him. For a moment, he looked at the towering male who still had his back to the deputy… Ultimately, however, Marshall ran after Samara.

“Yea, well… good point.” Marshall furrowed his brow, thinking to himself. Stopping abruptly when Samara turned to speak to him, the Light Faye sighed. “Our protections aren’t working. They’re too powerful and even with natural pillars, we’re not strong as we once were.” It hurt to say outloud, but it was a reality the Faye kept ignoring. “Also, we aren’t fairies: we’re Faye.”

“Would me knowing what the other is… could you try an counterspell or something?” It felt like grasping at straws, but they had to try something.

.

Marshall's sigh was not reassuring, his words then proceeding to crush any semblance of hope Samara could have had that the woodland folk would actually prove themselves to be useful. "Great," she sighed. That belief bullshit they depended on was truly a pain in the ass. Especially since their leaders chose to live in hiding instead of coexisting with the species their powers depended on in the first place. When the deputy corrected her about the name of his people, Sam rolled her eyes. "Potato, potahto." Same difference for all she cared. Plus, she wasn't really in the respectful mood now that she knew he couldn't do anything.

The deputy's next question however caught the witch's attention, brown eyes settling on the male. "So you know this isn't a natural occurrence." Though the fact would have been obvious to almost anyone with sensitivity to magic, she had to give Marshall some credit. “Well, since the Faye aren’t strong enough to combat this, I’ll assume they aren’t strong to create this either.” She offered him a sarcastic smirk. “If this was witches, it would depend on the number of casters and what specific spell was used.” The curl of her lips faltered, the witch frowning slightly. “...But if that was it, the elders attempts to calm the storm would have already done something.” 

Her gaze lowered. "So what does that leave...” Just then, Sam arched a brow, realizing exactly what her father had been trying to tell her before they were interrupted.

[ofnecromantia]

lovclychaos​:

belle  let  out  a  sigh  of  relief. she  would  have  to  work  on  that,  it  wasn’t as  easy  as  she  would  like,  though. how  was  she  going  to  stop  feeling that  scared  after  what  she  had  gone  through  ?  she  had  no  chance  against him,  in  fact,  at  that  moment  she  had  no  chance  against any  supernatural.  and  for  sure  she  would  not  be  to  run.  “  to  be  fair,  i’m  really happy  it’s  you  ”  the  french  woman  confessed,  taking her  hand  to  her  chest, still  feeling  her  heart  rushing inside.  “  i’ve  been  there  for  too  long  ”  she  confessed, “  i  wanted to  see  if  there  was  something  i  could  help  with  ”  belle  explained, but  i  was  when  she  was  explaining the  other  about  that  she  felt  it  was  just  stupid.

.

Samara's eyebrows rose and relaxed again. "Considering the alternatives roaming around, you should be." Not only was there a blood thirsty wolf pack stalking the hallways of the medical center, but they also had to worry about whatever the hell the demons were up to. It was about time Creation Peaks started reconsidering its definition of 'fun'. "Better in there than out here," she warned. "Our mutual friend was spotted in the emergency area earlier." Sam decided not to share how exactly she got the information. There was no reason to tell a human anything about the local pack or local coven. "So definitely best you don't stumble around and make yourself an easy target." Humans and their need to get involved in everything. It was truly a miracle they had yet to go extinct. The witch forced a smile. "Besides, your stitches bursting at the slightest effort aren't going to be much help to anyone."

[ofnecromantia]

risingcrack​:

@risingpeaksreblogs​

       Artemisia sighed as she finally got some peace and silence for a moment . She helped out as much as she could . thank you athenodora . ATHENODORA . ATHENODORA . it really was tiring in pretending to be her . a lie  that started off from an initial state of small significance and now was building upon itself, becoming larger, and also perhaps potentially dangerous or disastrous . With the coven and elders questioning her actions , her sister’s husband which has become more and more complicated with the fact that she not only lied , slept , and was now distant with the man but she was also stupidly in love with him . FUCKING GREAT , ARTEMISIA . 

            she just needed a moment to take down the mask and be herself . Inside the room where she decided to take for herself , she watched as the snow fell . everything covered in a while blanket or death . “– This room is occupied .” Artemisia mused when she heard the door open but didnt bother to look at who came in . 

.

Samara didn't bother to knock, walking into the room even as the coven leader protested the intrusion. "By the person I was looking for," she replied, a deadpanned tone lacing her voice. "Must be my lucky day." The necromancer wasn't known for her friendly demeanor, so her attitude towards Athenodora wasn't out of the ordinary. Still, there was something about the older witch that just unsettled the younger, Samara sometimes finding it difficult to detach the memory of the late twin from the one still alive (maybe it was just the fact they happened to be identical).

"--The elders are looking for you," she informed the leader. "And so is your husband." Though by the looks of it, those were exactly the reasons why Athena was hiding out in a random room. Samara walked further into the room, staring out the window for a moment. "...Are winters usually this bad in Creation Peaks?"

[ofnecromantia]

lovclychaos​:

open  to  :  @risingpeaksreblogs​

location  :  the  hospital

the  french woman  had  managed to  get  dressed, putting  a  pair  of  her  working  pants  on  even  if  she  was  still  wearing  that  hospital  gawn  as  a  top.  she  couldn’t  stay  in  her  room  knowing everyone  was  out  there,  knowing she  should  be  working  if  razor  hadn’t wanted  to  attack her  that  night. feeling  that  had  been  haunting her  ever  since  that  second. the  brunette  walked down  the  halls, carrying  the  monitor with  her.  the  sound  of  someone  walking behind  her  in  the  hallway made  the  french woman  turn  around, scared  to  face  the  werewolf again.  she  took  a  deep  breath  before she  turned  to  look  at  them.  “  you  scared  the  shit  out  of  me  ”  she  mused,  taking her  hand  to  her  chest.

.

The witch arched an eyebrow when she spotted the brunette, brown eyes following her movements through the long hallway. Sam hadn't seen Belle since the night of the attack, leaving her at the medical center and disappearing before any of the staff could ask questions. She'd heard about her recuperation from Zara, but otherwise Samara made no effort to find out what exactly happened to Belle. Even if she had helped her get away from the blood thirsty Alpha, and made sure she survived her injuries, the necromancer still held onto the belief it was better not to get involved in other people's drama.

It was nice to confirm her efforts hadn't been for nothing though.

Samara walked up to Belle, eyes narrowing slightly when the other got startled. "Probably a sign you should still be in bed." After all, if she had truly been the werewolf, the human would have had less of a chance to survive now than she did before. "Where are you trying to go anyways?"

[ofnecromantia]

status: closed, for Zara McKenna ( @thewaywardprotector​​​​ ) location: new hope health center

The strokes of the brush were meticulous, every line carefully painted on and traced over twice, brown eyes shifting from paper to skin as the witch made sure the symbols matched perfectly. "Stop moving," she ordered, grabbing Zara's arm by the wrist to hold it in place, wanting to prevent any of the ink she had spent hours crafting spilling onto the floor. She hoped they wouldn't have to reuse it at all, that the huntress wouldn't encounter anything that could possibly burn through the Enochian symbols. But just in case, it was better to avoid carelessly wasting it.

Once Samara decided she was finished, she closed the ink box and placed the brush on the bathroom counter. "You gotta let it dry." She leaned against the wall, looking over the items Zara had brought with her. "Then you should cover them up. Don't attract attention to yourself." Her gaze settled on a hunting knife, which she had been instructed to paint a different symbol on, her arms crossing along her chest. "--For how long do you have to stay on patrol?"

[ofnecromantia]

fayeoflightboi​:

Local Aid [Marshall||Samara]

@ofnecromantia​

Harper was brutal, making the Light Faye contemplate disappearing into the storm for a little while. However, as he patrolled the floors and helped townies and other set up as he went, he encountered a familiar face in a room… although he didn’t recognize the tall man with her. As far as he knew, Samara was single, but maybe he just wasn’t as close to the local witches as he liked thinking he was. “Hey, everything alright?” he questioned after knocking lightly on the open door. 

“You should meet up with Harper… she seems… more on edge than usual,” the Light Faye joked with an awkward chuckle.

.

"What the hell are they then?" she asked her father, the explanation he was giving about what he saw lurking around in the storm making absolutely no sense. There were a lot of elements of dark magic Samara was certain she still wasn't familiar with, plenty of spells and hexes she hadn’t had the time to learn. But the werewolf's descriptions of the creatures didn't even sound like something a witch would be capable of conjuring. He wasn't imagining them though, Sam was at least certain of that, having given her father a charm long ago so he wouldn't fall victim to any kind of illusions.

Their conversation was cut short when the older Godfrey sensed someone approaching their room, the witch rolling her eyes at the sight of the light faye. "Absolutely," she responded sarcastically. "Everything is just peachy." The brunette told her father she'd be back later and walked towards the door, pushing past Marshall without much consideration. "We are stuck in a crowded building due to a raging snow storm and we have no idea when it'll end." She glanced at the deputy. "I wonder why she has a lower tolerance than usual."

Samara inspected the hallway, lowering her voice so only Marshall could hear. "Isn't this something the fairies and the magic tree can take care of?" she questioned, brow furrowing.

[ofnecromantia]

hellsqueenlilith​:

The bitter wind cut into Lilith and perhaps if she were human as she once was she might feel it deep within her bones to the point it might make her want to sit down in a ball and never get up again but instead she looks out towards the mountains even if she couldn’t see through the raging snow flurries. There was a grumbling in the distance something was stalking within the woods but it must have caught her scent and moved on realizing she wasn’t a prey to mess with. The sly smile on her face grew as she heard it run off to find a better meal, “Lost are you?” She asks hearing the shuffling in the snow.

@risingpeaksreblogs​

.

At first, Samara hadn't paid much attention to the weather. She was used to the cold, used to the snow and high winds--she was confident she could handle whatever Creation Peaks had to offer. However, her father didn't seem to share that opinion, the werewolf's demeanor telling the witch she should take whatever was coming seriously. While the older Godfrey was ordered to join the emergency response team, Sam reluctantly agreed to go on her own and meet her father at the medical center. She texted Zara, letting the deputy know she was on her way, relieved when she got a reply that the other was already there. Before she could continue the journey though, a voice broke through the sounds of the wind, Sam instinctively keeping a distance as the source came into view.

"More like distracted, I guess," she admitted, brown eyes inspecting the blonde. Had she just been standing there? Or had Samara not noticed her approaching because of the weather? "...Are you lost?” the witch questioned. “Or are you just waiting around to catch people off guard?" It wouldn’t surprise her. Creation Peaks surely had its fair share of weirdos roaming about...

[ofnecromantia]

lovclychaos:

belle  looked at  the  werewolf. “  you  can  be  whatever you  want,  you’re not  on  top  of  the  pyramid  ”  she  told  him,  even  if  she  was  terrified, that  didn’t  mean  she  didn’t mean  her  words. belle  knew  she  wouldn’t  be  able  to  do  much  with  a  rusty  firepoker. “  i’m  not  scared  of  it  ”    the  deputy assured,  gripping  the  piece  of  metal  between her  hands.

“  stop  talking  ugh  ”  the  french  woman  replied  in  annoyance  as  the  werewolf kept  asking  stupid questions.  belle  was  about  to  tell  the  other  once  more  to  shut  up  when  she  quickly  received another  slap.  making her  groan  in  pain.  belle  tried  her  best  to  hit  the  werewolf,  even  if  she  knew  he  was  two  steps  ahead  from  her.

the  rusty  weapon  fell  on  the  ground  the  second  his  claws  on  her  stomach, her  hands  moved  quickly  to  her  now  sliced  and  bloody  shirt, looking  down  at  her  hands  just  to  probe  the  obvious.  she  was  bleeding. “  you’re  a  fucking  sadist ”  belle  groaned before  she  noticed the  garage  door  flew  towards razor.  her  eyes  opened  wide,  surprised  someone walking  into  that  place.

the  french woman  recognised  the  young  woman, she  didn’t  know  how  was  she  ever  to  pay  her  back  for  saving her,  at  least  trying  to.  belle  was  quick  following the  other’s  orders, moving  towards  the  exit  opened once  the  garage door  was  removed. “  i  can’t  let  you  here  alone  ”

|

alphcapexpredator:

Belle spoke, but the werewolf wasn’t listening. She was talking shit, desperately trying to make him feel as badly as she felt... Razor almost giggled as he wondered when would she begin crying and begging. Hopefully she was the fun type of gal and go down talking her shit. However, when she attempted to shut him up, it’d been too late and Razor had been dashing forward.

The firepoker hit him in the head twice----two large gashes bursting open and spraying blood around them before closing off. Whether it was from his blood, her blood, shock or the pain, the firepoker was discarded. “I’m a masochist too... Too bad you don’t got the right oomph! to make it hurt real good,” he lamented with twisted grin.

KEEP READING

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As the dirt hit the floor, Samara took a deep breath, holding it for a second before letting it go. "I didn't come alone," she replied to Belle, stepping closer to block the injured woman, brown eyes focused on the werewolf across the room. For a split second, the atmosphere changed, the use of dark magic thinning the air and forcing the shadows to grow around them. A harrowing screech echoed from the outside, getting closer as Razor charged towards the witch and the human.

The enraged Alpha was definitely an intimidating sight, a part of Sam knowing full well fear would have been the correct response to such a confrontation. She had no idea what exactly she had stepped into, no idea how skilled or powerful the enemy was. Not to mention there could be others nearby, a simple howl or scream capable of calling reinforcements before the witch could do anything to stop it. One wrong move, one careless action, and it could mean the end for her and the already injured brunette.

Fear, however, was an emotion Samara had abandoned at a very young age. Living on the run, not knowing who to trust. Evading scheme after scheme, threat after threat...She had no time to be scared. No time to allow such a weak emotion to guide her or govern her choices. Survival was dependent on preparation, on action, on knowing your own strengths and utilizing them at a moment's notice. To hell with fear. To hell with restraint. And to hell with this fucking werewolf.

"Sod off, asshole!" Before the Alpha reached the witch, a figure jumped through the window and grabbed him, throwing the werewolf back with incredible force. The humanoid creature stared at the werewolf, standing between him and the women, screeching at the Alpha as it charged at him once again.

Samara moved quickly, grabbing Belle's arm to help her out of the building. "Now, if you'll oblige, we need to get the fuck out of here."

@lovclychaos​

[ofnecromantia]

alphcapexpredator​:

lovclychaos​:

belle  had  to  take  a  deep  breath  the  second  he  stepped  away,  everything  hurt,  and  didn’t  really  want  to  see  her  state  in  that  moment.  “  how  are  you  so  sure  i  will  give  you  a  second  chance  to  do  this  to  me  ?  ”  she  asked  looking  up  at  him,  if  he  wanted  a  second  time,  she  would  not  hesitate.  “  and  i  thought  you  were  just  an  asshole,  but  i  was  wrong  ”  she  spat,  trying  to  get  up  but  she  was  stopped  by  the  werewolf  slapping  her  across  her  face  before  her  pushed  her  against  the  wall. 

the  deputy  managed  to  lean  against  the  wall,  trying  her  best  not  to  fall  on  the  ground,  she  coughed  a  couple  of  times.  she  didn’t  know  how  was  going  to  get  out  from  there.  “  i’m  am  ”  she  groaned,  “  go  and  fuck  yourself  ”  she  blurted,  now  finally  being  able  to  stand  up  on  her  feet,  her  hand  moving  to  her  side.  the  deputy’s  gaze  scaned  the  room  quickly.  she  sight  of  a  fireplace  just  made  her  realise  a  fire  poker  could  be  close.

the  deputy  was  quick  to  rush  to  the  fireplace,  quickly  takin  the  now  metal  weapon.  “  let  me  go,  you  bastard  ”

|

The deputy wasn’t keeping up, and the werewolf could easily tell. Even when her words were firm and sure, her heartbeat, her very scent gave her up. Razor chuckled cockily as he strode towards the disoriented human. “An asshole, that’s cute.” He chuckled again. “I’m an Alpha werewolf, dearie, I’m the fucking apex predator,” Razor growled in excitement, eyes glowing red as adrenaline rushed through him.

Pausing with a twisted smile when there seemed to be some pride in her admittance of being a hunter. “I rather fuck your life up, lapine” the werewolf replied to her poisonous words with cocky amusement. Watching Belle arm herself with the rusty firepoker, the Alpha werewolf chuckled to himself. “You sure you want to do that? You’ll hurt yourself,” Razor cooed mockingly.

Stretching out his arms with open hands, the werewolf shuffled his feet in place quickly. “I used to be obsessed with boxing,” he explained casually as he caught scent of her blood. “What about you? What’s your human style, Belle?” Yet, he didn’t wait for an answer, he dashed forward—ready to take anything she could dish out with her little weapon— and threw a left slap at her. “You won’t die here, but we aren’t going anywhere just yet.”

Throwing a right slap to her stomach, his felt his claws licking at her flesh. “Oops, instinct,” he laughed as he held his hand back to look at his claws as if he hadn’t purposely done it.

@ofnecromantia​

.

With the gravedigger being the number one suspect for the town's latest murder, and her own girlfriend leading the investigation, Samara tried to keep her distance from the cemetery. She didn't want to attract the attention of the police, or get Zara mad at her; and definitely didn't want the local coven asking questions about why she was hanging out around a possible crime scene. But the closer it got to the next full moon, the stronger the need to use her magic became, Sam deciding to forget caution and find a way to sneak into the cemetery. She just needed a body to practice on. In the woods, all she got to use were small animals or the occasional deer. Controlling those wasn't the training she was interested in.

However, once the witch managed to sneak into Saint Michael's Vigil and had her subject ready, shouting coming from a nearby building caught her attention. She wasn't the type to run towards danger, always avoiding getting involved, far more concerned with self preservation than pretending to be some sort of hero. She had enough drama in her life; she didn't need to go around getting tangled up in other people's bullshit. But with Zara out patrolling that night, and the fact a mass murderer was possibly still on the loose, Sam felt inclined to at least take a look.

"Stay," Samara commanded, grabbing a handful of dirt from the grave and placing it in a cloth pouch, jumping over the isolated half-fallen wall she'd come in through and making her way to the abandoned house. The crimson stains on the ground were the first sign something was amiss, the witch not needing enhanced senses to tell the blood was fresh. She quickly texted Zara, asking her where she was, but could barely wait for an answer as she heard the commotion coming from inside the house. She moved to one of the boarded up windows, looking through a crack on the wood, eyes growing wide once she saw what was going on.

The witch hurried to look for an entrance, using a spell to summon a strong gust of wind and send the garage door flying towards the werewolf. With a flick of her hand, Samara commanded the boards on the windows to rush at him, attempting to keep him distracted as she grabbed the dirt pouch in her pocket and dropped its content on the floor. Sam then turned her attention to the deputy. "You need to leave," she ordered. "Now."

@lovclychaos​

[ofnecromantia]

alphcapexpredator​:

Shadowing one of his Betas through town, Razor stopped when his target walked into Three Spoons. Sighing with boredom, the Alpha looked up to the sign above his head before his curiosity peaked. Entering Clear Crystals, the werewolf looked around to browse the product distractedly, although he took a breath that scanned his surroundings for him—making out the young woman before she spoke.

Sensing as she sipped her drink, the Alpha werewolf had to hold back a smirk. Turning with a charming smile as she welcomed him, Razor nodded in silent gratitude. “Sure thing,” he admitted. “What’s that about? What are eunuch symbols?” he questioned with a furrowed brow. If he’d lost his stones, Razor doubted he’d be worried about making any symbols or anything at all really. 

.

Brown eyes remained on the stranger, his question making Sam arch an eyebrow. Was he serious? Or was that his lame attempt at a joke? "Enochian symbols," she corrected, making an effort to hide the irritation from her voice. "It's the language of the angels." She put the book on the counter and turned it towards the male, pushing it closer to him so he could see better. "Some dude from the sixteenth century claimed that angels spoke to him and taught him their language." Sam shrugged. "The symbols do different things, but the basics is they protect you against angels and demons."

The bullshit humans would believe. Not to mention makeup for a little attention. She would pity them, but most wanted her dead and wouldn't hesitate to do it themselves if they discovered what she could do, so Sam didn't have it in her to care much. If they wanted to waste time and money on the ramblings of a madman, that was their problem, not hers.