#professorofpredators

[deathtaught]

@professor-of-predators​ cont. from x 

“Lemonade? No, not...” To tell the truth, he hadn’t even thought about what might be in his glass before taking a sip. He should have smelled the alcohol. If he’d realized, then, well... He might not have choked. 

“No, this is completely fine. Truly. I love...” Jack can’t tell the difference between alcohol. To him it simply tastes like water that makes his throat burn a little. “...this. I love this drink.” 

[walkingshcdow-a]

@professor-of-predators

//The outside chance that they might be Distant Cousins or something?

((Marty, please. What are the chances that the asshole businessman has a flamboyant, asshole cousin who is infinitely more popular? C’mon.))

[count-v-dracula]

Continued from here ;••••;

The question sprang from the dark-haired being, having seen a book open with an imagine depicting a vampire passing by the classroom, or more precise version of the creature, a strigoi. 

“Not at all,” he responded with a dismissive hand yet interested grin. She needn’t have informed him that she was a hunter of sorts. She possessed an air and a look that only hunters of the supernatural seemed to bear unlike all other souls.

“If you find yourself needing anything translated or provide a history for--I am the one you want.”

@professor-of-predators

[solitarytype]

@professor-of-predators

“Really?” Jane almost laughed at the thought. “I thought that was common knowledge. Running water is in material from all over the world.” She flipped through her notes to check. Yes, there, even in her earliest interviews people were telling her that running water could be death. Could be. Had no one tested the hypothesis? Surely someone must have, or they wouldn’t believe it, right? Jane reminded herself that people believed stupid half truths every day. But how long had this been a rumor? And more importantly, why had it be started. She needed more information.

“Have you, tested this? Crossed bridges, or taken boats places?”

Silas shrugged. He’d heard some pretty outrageous things, such as having a weakness to left socks, but not running water. Mostly, he was just curious to the logic behind it.

    “Well, I was reborn in the sea. Don’t think      water runs more than that, unless you mean      in a more directional sense.”

Usually, the topic was more of a sensitive matter to him, but rare things like this pulled his attention to be more open. And what better person to ask than a cryptozoologist?

    “Considering how much traveling I’ve needed      to do over the years, I haven’t found difficulty      crossing any sort of water.”

[ghostlyanon]

Annie, is your dad, a cassowary?

No, an EMU.

[inthegroundontime]

@professor-of-predators

“So you say,” Jane said teasingly, tightening her hug slightly. It had been a long hug, as far as songs went. Definitely more than ten seconds. But something told her that Rudyard needed something that would make up for the hugs he had missed. “I think it could stand to be a little longer, honestly. You’re not doing anything this evening, are you?”

“That depends entirely on how long this hug lasts,” Rudyard said, summoning as much tartness as he could. It didn’t mask they way his cheek melted atop the crown of Jane’s head or the way his stiff arms clutched her tightly as if she might be snatched from his grasp at any moment. A warm wetness stung his eyes, but Rudyard refused to cry. Until now, he’d never noticed how tight his chest was. “Are you going to hold me hostage all night or do you have other plans?” 

[tinfoiltemplar]

👌

“I’m sure whatever you found could have waited until morning.”

Victor was grumbling as Jane led him down the dark stone hallways that were the Templar crypts. Normally he wouldn’t have minded, but he had fallen asleep at his desk for the third night this week only a short while before and while they were hours from sun up Victor was only about another hour from having to get up himself. His body ached from the work they’d been doing and the poor sleep, his mind was foggy, and the crypts themselves were cold and dark, especially since Jane led them into the bits that had long ago stopped receiving renovation.

The walls were lit by torches that looked like they’d been there for hundreds of years, and space itself held the marks of some nameless incident that had scarred the structure before it had been blocked off. Only a recent earthquake and Jane’s digging had opened it up again, and if she hadn’t had it before, Jane certainly had his attention now.

“Jane... what is this?”

She didn’t answer him, already yards ahead of him with a lantern, fumbling with the ring of keys he’d given her so long ago now. They still didn’t know what all of them did, but surely none of them belonged to this hallway... except that Jane found the key she was looking for. By the time Victor had caught up she’d thrown the heavy door open and raised the lantern above her head, grinning as she walked into the profound darkness. The strike of a match, a hiss, pop, woosh- the room was filled with light and Victor had to shield his eyes. When he could look around again there was Jane standing triumphantly on a dias in the middle of the room. 

“Beckam 1, Templars 0.” She laughed “Welcome to the Lost Hall.”

[laurelaiwingates-a]

|| belated

|| @professor-of-predators

In the early pre-dawn hours, Horst had let himself into the townhouse flat. He knew where Jane hid  her key. He knew she was home, and judging by  the lack of movement from within, he knew she  was asleep.

He left the covered cake on the table, making his  way silently into the kitchen. He had no need of  lights.

Within a few minutes, Horst had devoted his energy  to cooking Jane a surprise breakfast of sausages,  eggs and fluffy waffles.