#witchyjohnmartin

[fallcnlight]

bloody

Take a Stand | Starters

bloody :   my  muse  coming  to  your  muse  with  blood  stains  on  their  clothes  and  hands,  shaking.

Kemuel wasn’t at work nor was he at home. He, instead, wandered the streets on the cusp of dawn, watching the light at last toy with the city’s streets and buildings. His gaze drifted from towering skyscrapers to a trembling man with sharp puffs of air trailing his lips like clouds of smoke. The brisk winter singed at Kemuel’s hands, but the same couldn’t be said to the witch nearing him.

“Are you hurt?” Kemuel asked, hands out in front of him when the two closed their distance. Brown eyes were weighed down in concern and worry fluttered in his heart, cooling his blood as it spread throughout his body. He was in a similar state, not too long ago. 

“Please, tell me what happened? Is there anyone else involved?” He further asked, hand gently resting on John’s bicep as he steered him off to the nearby bench.

@witchyjohnmartin 

[illpcrish]

push

Meet the Man | Starters

PUSH :   my  muse  pushing  your  muse  out  of  the  way  of  danger.

Wandering streets and wandering minds weren’t a good combination in Cyanide. More often than not, people drifting off in their heads wound up dead  by dawn or not found at all. Joshua had his vampirism as a backup measure, an added security that kept him safe time and time again. But, tonight? He was the one too focused on himself to hear what was coming.

The witch had the drop on him and shoved the pastor aside, Joshua’s feet rush forward to steady him as eyes shoot back to John, only to watch as a hooded figure plunged a knife into John’s side and bolt off. 

Joshua wanted to chase after the culprit and roughen him up, but it’d be meaningless of John bled out because of it. The pastor veered to John’s side and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, hand hovering over the blade buried in the witch. 

“We need to keep it in here until you’re somewhere safe,” he announced in a low voice, brown gaze looking to John, assessing the man’s heartbeat and emotions alike. It’s tempting to look down, soak his fingers in the man’s warm blood and have a taste, but he hesitated. Willed himself not to.

@witchyjohnmartin