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Better Than Gore

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  1. Better Than Gore

    Fatal Seduction S2.

    Fatal Seduction: Scene 2. There was something special about tonight--although, Ryker couldn’t necessarily put his finger on it. Fatal Seduction was busy, per usual, men from all over Blairville flocked with cash in hand. It seemed like a typical night, other than the fact that Ryker had been spending an unusual amount of time at the establishment, which had a majority of his staff on edge. All of the women on call showed up on time and even went out of their way to greet him. That’s when he knew something was off, or maybe it was just another case of brown-nosing. Whatever the case may have been, Ryker was just as much on edge as they were, their behavior only egged him on. He was even sober, or at least looked as if he had been. Perhaps that was the key--Ryker hadn’t indulged in his vice for the greater part of the evening and he didn’t have his head on straight. “Inform me upon her arrival.” -- “Will do, boss.” With that, he excused himself from the floor and made his way back into his office to powder his nose. Ryker was dressed to impress tonight, sporting a slim fitting tailored suit, black on black, adorned with a crimson tie. Concealed within his suit jacket was a holster containing a semi-automatic 9mm handgun, chambered and loaded with hollow points. Which was unlike him; normally he trusted and relied on his security detail to handle any situation that arose, but there was no such thing as being too safe. Taking a seat behind his desk, someone on staff was kind enough to arrange his paraphernalia, which made him smile. Taking hold of a nearby razor blade, Ryker began chopping at a rather large pile, from there he sifted through some of it to form a straight line and indulged with a satisfied sigh. “Any minute now.” @Sigil Warden
  2. Better Than Gore

    Fatal Seduction S2.

    Ryker’s vision had adapted and became quite adequate in dim lighting throughout his time working for and managing his own establishment; granted, it wasn’t superhuman in any way shape or form, so tracking Unity’s abrupt maneuver bordered impossible. If it hadn’t been for the paint, he may not have caught her performance whatsoever, let alone able to pinpoint where she had intended on landing. Had the situation been a little less heated, he may have given her a round of applause, instead, an eyebrow raise sufficed. Which disappeared just as quickly as it had surfaced--Ryker’s attention was drawn back to the customer, who would soon be removed from his chair and thrown through the door by his tee shirt. Dusting off his hands as if he had just taken out the garbage, Unity questioned his actions. “Do you want the truth, or do you want me to lie?” Rhetorical question. Ryker wouldn’t even give her a moment to consider answering before he began to explain himself. Turning around to face the confused and likely angry reddened gaze from across the room. “Trust me when I say this, Unity. I’m normally not the jealous type and I apologize that this is the way you had to find out, but ever since you left your interview I can’t keep my mind off of you. I don’t know what it is, or what you did, but your face, voice, fuck even your smile is permanently burned into my thoughts.” There it was--whatever it was, whether he had just confessed his infatuation with the dancer or simply a crush, it was there in the open. What she would do with his confession was still up in the air. “If I have made you uncomfortable and unwilling to continue working for me, I understand. I will pay you your earnings from the rest of the week and we can part our separate ways.” Was thrown in; as far as Unity could tell, he was being sincere, despite his rash behavior and very apparent elevated mindstate. @Sigil Warden
  3. Better Than Gore

    Fatal Seduction S2.

    "Why?" Gorgeous women surrounded Ryker on a daily basis; not once had he grown any sort of attachment to them, let alone experienced jealousy over something as simple as one of them doing what they were paid to do, especially one that he had met once before. This was a whole new experience for him, to say the very least. All of these thoughts were cycling in the man's head as he paced back and forth in front of his desk, trying to find some sort of conclusion as to why they clouded his judgment in the first place. When nothing came to mind he resulted to the only coping mechanism that he knew... violence. Ryker was very familiar with that, after all, one didn’t climb their way through the ranks without it, violence was a key ingredient to success in his line of work. Hitting the slopes once more, Ryker exited his office and made his way through the club, shoving dancers and patrons alike out of the way. It was showtime. A goon was stationed just outside the entryway to the private rooms, whom of which took immediate notice to his oncoming and fuming boss. Part of him wanted to try and stop Ryker from entering, but that Devil on his shoulder whispered thoughts of encouraging his bosses short temper. He had to make a decision and fast, Ryker was almost there. Positioning himself in front of the entrance, a hand rose to greet his boss but slowly fell back down to his side. “Just don’t kill the guy, boss. We don’t need any more unnecessary attention.” --- “Move.” With that, the large bouncer side-stepped out of the way and permitted Ryker entry. One by one he would begin kicking in the doors to the private booths, each boot was followed by the sound of a struggle and a scream from the dancer inside. Each was taken by surprise, as the music within each room was just loud enough to mask the absolute chaos inhabiting the rooms prior. Making his way through the booths he would inevitably come across the one he had been searching for, with a swift kick access was granted, and there she was. “Give the girl your money and get the fuck out.” @Sigil Warden
  4. Better Than Gore

    Fatal Seduction S2.

    As Unity’s performance began, those seated around the stage began throwing and stacking money in and around the platform, the currency ranged from papered bills to that of alien and foreign coinage. Those stacking soon realized that their entertainer wasn’t as touchy-feely as those who graced the stage previously, they resulted in shoving it forward while simultaneously forking over more, cheering with excitement as her act intensified. A competition for Unity’s attention soon unfolded amongst the spectators; bribing her with more and more money in exchange for her affection. Once her dance concluded, a couple of them rushed and fought their way to where she would exit, cash in hand, hoping to steal her away for a more private endeavor. “Unity! How much for a dan---fuck off, I was here first!” It appeared her first recital was a big hit. Fatal Seduction’s patrons weren’t the only ones that thoroughly enjoyed Unity’s stage show--Ryker too took notice, certainly not in a way a member of management should have. Hypnotized by her erotic sway, a familiar bulge became very apparent down the leg of his trousers, leaning toward the bar as he intently studied her. “You need me to take care of that for you, boss?” A giggle escaped the bartender as she took notice of his arousal. “That won’t be necessary.” --- ”Awh.” She whined with disappointment. Ryker’s longing facial expression quickly twisted into one of jealousy as several men approached Unity with handfuls of cash. Pushing off of the bar, he’d pour himself another shot and down it before retreating to his office. Something told him he would need to hit the slopes once more before his interruption could commence. @Sigil Warden
  5. Better Than Gore

    Fatal Seduction S2.

    Knock, knock, knock. "Boss, she's here." --- "Ah, right on time." Ryker chimed in, right before railing another line. What's one more for the road, right? Taking a moment to collect himself, he tapped his desk and promptly exited his office, closing the door behind him. Moving toward the bar, he took a position behind it, assisting the bartender with the line of customers before pouring himself a shot of top-shelf whiskey. Shooting it before his gaze scanned the Club's inhabitants, not stopping until it fell upon his newest employee. Flashing a tooth filled grin, his silver clad canines noticeably gleaming as the lights of the establishment graced his smile. Unity would be observed from the bar, like most of his newly hired dancers were. This wasn't a case of special treatment, despite what Unity thought had she have noticed his onlooking. "Who's the new girl, boss?" --- "Unity," --- "She's a looker, that's for sure." --- "You don't say." Both the bartender and Ryker shared a chuckle. Ryker's smile hadn't gone anywhere since his initial sighting of the woman. Once Unity had reached the DJ, he lethargically removed his headset from the closest ear so that he could hear her request. Nodding in acknowledgment he then motioned in the bars general direction, making her aware of the fact that she was being observed. "Pressure is on, sweetheart. Break a leg." And then took the vinyl she propositioned, removing the one currently playing and starting her own. "Making her way to the stage, give it up for Unity!" Was spoke into the microphone and the crowd of degenerate men and women all whistled and clapped in anticipation. @Sigil Warden
  6. Better Than Gore

    Fatal Seduction.

    Ryker was an entrepreneur; unlike a majority of those who shared his line of work, he invested a majority of his income in other lucrative markets. Most of which consisted of small businesses. Doing so allowed him to avoid the peering eyes of the man, via laundering his illegal profits through “legitimate” assets. All of which was carefully and thoroughly documented. Occasionally he carelessly threw his money around, whether that was on luxurious accessories, exotic vehicles, or out of spite. Tonight was one of those occasions. Ryker had finally taken a vacation, entrusting one of his many goons to oversee production and distribution of his enterprise, for the time being, only to give another his undivided attention. This venture dealt in another vice of his--women. “Fatal Seduction” is what the sign read, vibrantly glowing just above the main entrance, with an enormous man stationed just in front of it. This one didn’t sport a formal lanyard like the rest of Ryker’s law-abiding employees. Instead, a polo shirt, khakis and dress shoes adorned his appearance. He also sported a pair of sunglasses, albeit pointless at the time of day this particular establishment bustled, they did prove to be somewhat intimidating. Which were reflective and aviator in design. Several more men just like him also kept a watchful eye inside. Upon entry, the layout of the building was exactly what one would come to expect a Gentleman’s Club to resemble. Multiple stages spread throughout, a decently sized bar, multiple booth styled tables, and of course a DJ podium equipped with a microphone. Every two the three songs, the women on stage would rotate and the DJ would announce the new dancers and what stage they would be at. Desperate men of all shapes and sizes threw their money at them, some more so hesitantly, while the more experienced patron cleverly placed folded bills on themselves and stacked their singles atop one another only to be swept greedily onto the stage by the entertainers. At this very moment, Ryker was going over an application for employment he had just received, ensuring everything applicable was properly filled out. If everything checked out, the candidate would undergo an interview, which consisted of a demonstration of their skill set and of course a brief questionnaire on why they would be a good addition to the team. “What’s your stage name?” A name had to catchy. It had to have a certain ring to it. If it didn’t catch his attention, why would it catch the attention of his customers?
  7. Better Than Gore

    Fatal Seduction.

    "Understandable," In all fairness, Ryker didn't even know his own number, although, after going through so many burner phones, memorizing the associated number became more of a hassle than anything. What in the fuck is that thing?! Never had he seen a device such as the one Unity retrieved, whereas technology was constantly evolving, normally his tech was the most advanced on the market. Material items normally followed wealth. Quite honestly it immediately rose a red flag, but he quickly shook that paranoia out of his subconscious and instead smiled up at the security camera stationed on the ceiling. Nothing in this establishment went unseen. "Ah, thank you." Without much hesitation, Ryker retrieved his own smart device and dialed in the number, promptly saving it to his contacts. "For dances, yes. Your customer will pay you upfront for those, the remainder is divided out amongst the staff before close. Your attire is completely up to you, just please keep the audience in mind." Who was he kidding? Those men would throw money at practically anything if they had a decent rack. "Unless you have any more questions for me, you're free to go, sweetheart." Ryker added in at the second. Unity was good in his book. "Expect a call within the next couple of days. Welcome to the Team." @Sigil Warden
  8. Better Than Gore

    Fatal Seduction.

    Unity’s explanation hadn’t been too far fetched; a lot of the women Ryker hired had given a similar answer. Women in general typically received attention from the opposite sex, whether that was unwanted or vise versa, it simply came with the territory. Unity’s appearance certainly added to that factor, although in her case it had likely been the latter. Her answer on how she heard about Fatal Seduction made him frown a tad--Ryker prided himself on the women he hired on, granted, she was stunning, but as were all the women he employed. Her source for said information may have been intoxicated at the time and may even have been trying to butter her up, but still, it was disappointing to hear, to say the least. “I see. When are you available to start?” Ryker added in after a moment of brewing on the answers she provided. At most he tried to give her the impression that he was mulling over his decision. But in reality, she was hired the very moment he had become aroused, but that probably came as no surprise. This business was all about that exact thing and without it, his employees simply wouldn’t make any money. “Also, I noticed you didn’t list a mobile number on your application, any particular reason?” It may have been listed, perhaps he overlooked it when he skimmed the paperwork, as he did with most of his applicants. He didn’t really care about their work history, references, or really even their experience. All that mattered was that they could impress him. If they could get him going, God only knew what they were capable of out on that floor. “All in all, we’re pretty solid though. No pun intended. We’ll see how you do your first week and if it’s not your thing, there are plenty of other opportunities we could explore throughout my companies.” You heard him correctly. Companies. Ryker had several, all equally as illegal and frowned upon as the rest. But if Unity wanted to stay within Fatal Seduction, she could serve, bartend, hell she could even work payroll if she really wanted to. But none of those mentioned would make her anywhere close to as much as she could make as a dancer. “More importantly, do you have any questions for me?” @Sigil Warden
  9. Better Than Gore

    Curse Of The Ursa

    Nyra’s adventure was a long one, however, it could have been longer. Traveling by horseback was ideal; hopefully, her newfound barbaric colleagues didn’t worry too much about her seizing one of their ponies. The stolen steed made her travel that much shorter. Save for an overnight camp, which wasn’t out of the ordinary, making that long of a trek in a day was unthinkable. Nyra’s arrival was anticlimactic; drawing unnecessary attention onto herself was the last thing on her to-do list. Her clothing consisted of mostly leather and linen, tight-fitted to the shape of her body, pauldrons appended with fur, gauntlets, greaves, and sabatons were the main bit of her attire that was metal in nature. Other than her sword, which was joined at her left hip and sheathed. Nyra was short in stature; give or take 5’6”, and very petite. Her small frame bolstered an astounding 165lb, consisting of conditioned muscle that was aesthetically pleasing. Her hair was dark and dreaded, styled into a braid and decorated with what looked to be beads, and a variety of teeth/claws. Nyra’s complexion was an exotic shade of tan and her eyes were a brilliant emerald green. Her facial highlights were delicate. After touching base into town, she guided her mount to what she thought to be a stable of sorts, tying it off and giving it a pat before advancing further into town. Rumor has it there was a woman residing in Blairsville that could possibly help her overcome the monster within her. Her townsfolk would sit back and relax knowing there was certifiably no way of it getting away and butchering whoever crossed paths with it. But where was the best place to follow-up on rumors? A tavern. Exploring for a bit, Nyra would eventually discover an establishment that was exactly that. Upon entering, each inhabitant would get a once-over before she advanced to an empty table. Taking a seat, she’d trust that someone would inevitably take notice of her and fetch a beverage. @Sleepy Seal
  10. Better Than Gore

    Fatal Seduction.

    Unity’s newfound employer had thankfully been too preoccupied to notice her sudden discomfort; otherwise, his suspicion would have quickly taken a turn for the worst and paranoia would have bled into his conscience. With that being said, Ryker’s cool demeanor underwent quite the transformation as the stimulant began affecting his nervous system, forcing him into a manic state. Sniffling ever so often, pacing back and forth, a hand sought his mouth as if keep himself from coughing. Ryker’s real motive was to hide his facial expression as the drip began, grimacing and even almost gagging--whereas the drip was highly anticipated and even refreshing, on occasion the taste was foul, even for him. At this point Ryker’s high was at its peak, his pupils were dilated, clamminess introduced itself to his palms and his heart rate was through the roof. Yet his capability to focus was unmatched--Unity was unfortunate enough to catch the brunt of an intense leer. “What made you pursue this particular line of work?” Ryker assumed he would receive one of two answers--money or attention, it could have been a combination of the two. Those were the most common answers he had been given throughout his time in management; although they never truly scratched the surface of the abundance of underlying issues that most of his employees experienced on a day to day basis, whether that was rampant drug use, daddy issues, the list was seemingly endless. Ryker never really made it a point to solve said issues, but he certainly wasn’t naive to them either. “How did you hear about my club?” Small talk be damned, this was turning out to be more of an interrogation than anything. In Ryker’s line of work, one could never be too careful. This would only become even more evident as his fists began to clench, knuckles cracked and popped each time they balled up. @Sigil Warden
  11. Better Than Gore

    Fatal Seduction.

    "Stay still." Unity's current position was perfect--not only did it provide an amazing view, it also provided somewhat of a flat surface. Digging around inside of his pocket momentarily, a miniature vial was retrieved, said vial was nearly full to the brim with a powdery white substance. Removing the cap with a flick of his thumb, he'd hover it steadily inches above her closest breast. Tapping it lightly and slowly but surely trickling the powder in as straight of a line as possible. Which given the circumstances would turn out better than initially predicted. Adjusting his posture, Ryker would leave forward and snort the substance off of her chest via plugging his adjacent nostril and following the line. What he missed would be swept up by a finger and rubbed vigorously across his gum line. Sighing with relief and leaning back in his chair exaggeratedly--promptly recapping the container and stuffing it back from whence it came. "My apologies, sweetheart. I probably should've asked for your permission beforehand, but I couldn't turn down such a welcoming invitation." Ryker added in as a mischievous grin crept upon his face. He then took hold of her waist, lifting her up quite easily and setting her atop his desk. Scooting his chair backwards to provide more room, he stood abruptly and stretched. What remained of his arousal was still clearly visible--as the material of his tightly fitted pants clung around it. "Ah," Briefly looking about the room, Ryker retrieved a coat, which was black in color and had fur lining the interior. "Here, put this on." Tossing the article of clothing in her general direction before deciding to join her atop his desk. Leaning against it and positioning himself adjacent from her. "The job is yours if you want it, Unity. But there's still a few semantics we have to sort out." @Sigil Warden
  12. Better Than Gore

    Fatal Seduction.

    Interesting. A lapdance was the follow-up to a stage performance--at least for a patron, ideally, a performer reeled them in after letting their imagination run wild for a song or two. Ryker’s women made a living off of desperation and loneliness; targeting those who craved their attention the most, showering those who had the deepest pocket with affection. A majority of their income came from their time on stage due to one simple factor--competition. Men were particularly jealous of one another when a woman was involved, even more so when said women were stark naked. At the end of every night, the accumulated money was divided out equally amongst those scheduled. Ryker also received a percentage which was then reinvested into the club itself. Jealousy led to spite--spite led to a private dance and on occasion a much more worthwhile proposition. That money wasn’t included in the pot. As the boss, he had no other option but to encourage his entourage to profit from lust, and needless to say Unity’s forward-thinking was duly noted. Unity was chasing the paper; just like any other hard working individual, a part of him respected that, whereas the other portion was having a hard time focusing on the task at hand. Ryker’s main objective quickly became a goal of resisting his primal urge to partake and indulge in the beautiful specimen within his reach. ”Mmm,” A light groan managed to slip out as his gaze lingered--appreciating one feature at a time. Ryker’s left hand sought her rear only to hesitantly stop just before making contact, in this situation it may have worked out in his favor, however, coming off as too touchy-feely may not have been the right move. His hand hovered only momentarily before retreating from whence it came, only to grab at and adjust a rather noticeable bulge growing alongside his pant leg. Ryker couldn’t help but grin as the song came to an unfortunate end. “Impressive. But I’m definitely going to need a better view,” With that being said another song started up and he situated himself once more--getting comfortable and spacing his footing that way Unity had more room to work with. @Sigil Warden
  13. Better Than Gore

    Fatal Seduction.

    Whenever an interview was scheduled it was penciled in a week or two out. Women in this line of work typically had more than one opportunity elsewhere. Which is exactly why a contract was implemented in the hiring process. Those who chose Fatal Seduction as their home away from home were quite content with their decision. Unity on the other hand--she agreed to an interview on the spot. Which may have raised a red flag for some. That hadn't kept Ryker from arranging their meet and greet. "Right on time," Early even. Unity had already made an impression. Time management was an important asset in an employee. "Give me just a moment to familiarize myself with your application," Ryker had gone over it quite extensively prior to calling--now that she was present he could make sure everything added up. Ever so often his gaze darted between the parchment and his newfound guest, making a mental note of every fine detail, and inevitably placing it atop his desk once satisfied. "Alright. Let's see what you got." Simple as that, granted, their interview would be far more small talk-y after the fact, as long as Ryker found her demonstration sufficient. Cue the music. Click. Music boomed from the sound system accompanying Ryker's office. As it began, he reclined in his chair and kicked his feet up onto his desk. Motioning to the pole stationed in the middle of the room with an anticipating smirk. @Sigil Warden
  14. Better Than Gore

    An Aspiring Apprenticeship!

    Static echoed from a two-way radio. "Ralph, the boss is expecting someone, let us know when they arrive." --- "Understood, Corey." Ralph was a money motivated man and recent prospect, due to sudden and aggressive expansion he was hired on as a patrolman. His sole task was monitoring the block and alerting staff of any suspicious traffic. Corey was the acting doorman, stationed behind a gated fence lined with razor wire, his job description was far simpler than Ralph's, yet mind-numbingly painful. All he did was wait for a customer, identify them via codeword and permit them entrance into the facility. All with the press of a button. Doing so opened the gate, which promptly closed upon entry. Said facility was a two-story building, complete with a basement, and resembled that of a simple establishment. A neon sign flickered above the front entrance that read, "Albrecht's Pristine Dry-cleaning". Standing just beyond the entryway was a brute of a man known only as Paul, or so the lanyard hanging from his slab of a neck claimed. Positioned and aligned just above that was a hyphenated "APDC" in a bolded block font. If someone paid close enough attention, they would identify a noticeable bulge posted on his hip. Which was that of a concealed firearm. His job was that of an usher of sorts, Paul escorted guests to their destination and made sure they didn't get lost in the process. Which loosely translated into keeping any inquisitive behavior to an absolute minimum. At first glance, the establishment appeared to be exactly what the sign out front proclaimed. Inside, employees of many shapes and sizes could be seen bustling about. Loading and unloading clothing by the hamper full into large machinery. Each of them wore a lanyard identical to Paul's own, which displayed their supposed name and company logo. Doors were sporadically placed throughout the hallway leading into the main operation room, attached to the wall adjacent to their handles was an electronic contraption of sorts, black in color. Employees used these to gain entry into the assorted rooms via scanning their work badge. Conveniently placed just above the doors were cameras, which moved from left to right and vice-versa in three-second intervals, relaying video surveillance of the facility to presumably a security room somewhere in the facility. Paul's route never changed; leading his guests through the laundry room, around a corner that lead into another lengthy corridor, at the end was a door labeled "Employees Only". Like the others, this door also had a camera, however, the badge scanner was replaced with that of an intercom. Bulky and metallic with a rather large red button positioned in the center just below the microphone/speaker system. "How many?" --- A voice always answers when the button is pressed, which Paul answered accordingly each time, with a buzz the door opens and one customer is permitted entry at a time. On the opposite side, they are greeted by two men equal of stature to Paul, their lanyard jokingly reads "Thing 1 & Thing 2". Thing 1 is responsible for acquiring the customer's money and running it through a state of the art electronic counter, assuming it adds up, Thing 2 is responsible for handing over their purchase. Which was a vacuum sealed bag of varying size, neatly folded clothes was all that was visible through the transparent material. What they truly purchased was cleverly hidden somewhere within the clothing. Each time the door opened, the pungent smell of petrol wafted into the corridor, which only became that much more evident within the room itself. Sitting at a desk was a man fitted in a tailored suit, black in color, adorning a matching vest and crimson colored skinny tie. His sleeves were precisely rolled up just after the elbows, tattoos of varying color and design were on display, stretching from his hands up onto his shoulders. His hair was the exact opposite of his fancy attire, ruffled, unkempt and brown in color, as were his eyes. Reddened and dilated, bags laid beneath them as if he had been up for several days. He too wore a lanyard that read "Albrecht", beneath that "Boss Man" was stylized in an intricate font. Stationed across his desk was a sword, atop the blade itself was a white powder formed into a thick straight line, which had a unique sheen. Some found it comparable to that of fish scales. Within his hand was a cylinder-shaped tube, placing it just passed his left nostril, he bent down and forward. Using his opposite hand to apply pressure to his right nostril, with an exaggerated snort the powder was inhaled and a heavy sigh of relief escaped him. @Voldemort
  15. Better Than Gore

    The Story of the First Cothmas

    For months they toiled; hunting and gathering food for the upcoming winter, for the first snowfall meant the season had ended. Through trial and error, they came to the conclusion that their prey did the exact same. Certainly, there had been a select few animals that hadn't followed this ritual, but the weather made it seemingly impossible for them to productively track. Snow blanketed the forest more often than not and covered whatever tracks had been left. It was a fool's errand and sometimes cost them the lives of good hunters, whether that was to the wrath of mother nature, a rival tribe, or worse the very creatures they aimed to hunt. Each family was held to a certain standard based on the capabilities of their kinfolk to contribute food for the tribe, that food was then rationed out to every family equally to survive the upcoming frigidness of winter. If a family hadn't met said standard, they were cast out and forced to fend for themselves until the season passed. An unfortunate family lost a Father to an opposing tribe during a raid attempt, leaving behind a beautiful wife and an overly eager daughter. On a night much like this, that daughter set off on a noble cause, sneaking out in the middle of the night in an attempt to pick up the slack and save both herself and her Mother from starvation. She was naive; but never left her Father's side, she watched him like a hawk. Studied him. Mimicked him. Over the years she had become quite adept at spearfishing, archery, and the most sought-after skill of all. Tracking. With spear in hand, she trenched through the snow and bared the cold to the best of her ability. Her burning determination inevitably paid off, as she came across the biggest paw prints she had ever seen. Fresh too, as the details had yet to be masked by the snow. From her Father's knowledge, she identified them as that of a bear, but they were far too large to be any species of bear that roamed her woods. Judging by the size, this kill would yield enough food to feed not only her family but any family that shared their fate. Following the tracks, she soon realized that they were gradually getting smaller, only to become a footprint much like her own. Granted larger, but definitely of human nature. There was no evidence of a kill, no blood, certainly no signs of a struggle imprinted in the snow. Puzzled she trekked onward, stopping only once she reached what appeared to be an encampment. A fire roared and heat licked at her face. "H-hello?" Her voice was muffled by the crackling of the fire. Then came a roar. A roar so ferocious and powerful that the fire itself was smothered by it. Fire whisked away into nothingness, leaving smoke billowing from charred logs. Fight or flight instinctively kicked in. Run. But it was far too late, the beast was upon her. A monster, something one only saw in their nightmares charged her. Forcing her to back peddle and fall into the snow. Raising her spear defensively as she did so, hoping to impale the creature as it mauled her. Wishful thinking at its finest. The creatures massive paw swatted the spear away with ease, as the other carved into her chest. It loomed over her, panting heavily, seemingly pausing from its onslaught. She took this opportunity to flee, rolling onto her stomach only to crawl helplessly. Then again. It swatted her, cleaving through her fur and hide jacket, ripping across the flesh on her back. An agonizing scream bellowed from the little girl, the adrenaline and shock from the initial encounter had worn off, as her consciousness swiftly began to fade. "I'm s-sorry M-Mama.." Fade to black. That very next morning, Constans stumbled upon her. Face down in the snow, blood coating the fresh powder, yet there were no wounds to rectify the shed. Her clothing tattered from the assault, upon further inspection the wounds had mended and scarred. Distinctive claw markings on both her back and chest. Barely coherent, the little girl's hair and face had accumulated frost from the bitter cold. The now doused firepit ignited with a bright green flame, melting away the snow that had gathered atop it and radiating outward with a pulse of unknown intent. Without a second thought, Constans swooped her up and laid her across his shoulder, carrying her back from whence he came.
  16. Better Than Gore

    Curse Of The Ursa

    "She wasn't lying," Needless to say; Nyra was baffled, more so that sole purpose of this building was to house furniture. Or so it appeared. The probability of that was slim to none. There was definitely something going on here and she was determined to find out. But before she could get down to business, she had to address whoever else was occupying the building. Whether they posed a threat was up in the air, Nyra certainly came prepared if that were the case. "Make yourself known!" Nyra shouted, her right hand drifted toward the hilt of her sword stationed on her left hip. Just in case the group was hostile in nature. @Sleepy Seal [I apologize for the wait, in the middle of moving into our own house, so that process has kept me occupied.]
  17. Better Than Gore

    Curse Of The Ursa

    And make a call she did. Nyra's curse came with many gifts; one of which was low light vision, much like her bear counterpart, she was capable of seeing nearly twice as far as your average human during the nighttime. Staying overnight in a nearby establishment just wasn't an option. Well, it was, but not one she wanted to choose. Nyra wanted to get to the bottom of this as soon as possible, so onward she went. Using her low light vision to her advantage to reach her destination safely and efficiently. @Sleepy Seal
  18. On the first day of Cothmas; my true love gave to meeeee, five vicious floggings.

  19. Better Than Gore

    Curse Of The Ursa

    Interesting. Nyra rolled her eyes. "They must really believe that." Or else they wouldn't have formed an angry mob; although, people have protested far less believable things. "Perhaps you could jot down some directions for me? Tourist attractions are always fun." Even if the waitress believed it to be that of a tall-tale, it was certainly worth investigating. At least now she had a slight idea on where to start looking, otherwise she'd spend all day questioning the locals, which didn't sound too appealing. @Sleepy Seal
  20. Better Than Gore

    Curse Of The Ursa

    "No thank y---" Chanting could be heard from outside of the tavern; which immediately grabbed Nyra's attention, forcing her to tilt her head in curiosity. Which was only used in order to hide her excitement. She was in the right place after all. Their protesting confirmed that. Gazing back at the waitress, she'd offer her a genuine smile. "And what's that all about then?" This probably wasn't the first time an event like this had taken place. Obviously, she knew exactly what and who they were after, but Nyra had to play dumb for the time being. Subtelty was an absolute must. "Who's this Lich Queen they speak of?" Another question followed; if the waitress cared to listen, perhaps Nyra would be able to get some information from her. It may not have been the information she required, but information none the less. While she waited to see if the waitress would bite, she too would bite, via grabbing her utensils and going to town on her steak. @Sleepy Seal
  21. Better Than Gore

    Curse Of The Ursa

    Reyna's sudden leave hadn't risen any suspicion; when one was done with their meal they normally departed, unless there was an obligation to stay. A complete stranger offering them a seat at their table didn't necessarily fit that particular category. Nor had the fact that she knew the cashier by a first name basis alert her, for all Nyra knew, she could have been wearing a name-tag. She hadn't bothered to look. "Ah, thank you." Nyra's attention was brought back to the waitress. Nodding in appreciation of the delivery and acknowledgment of her comment. Once her steak had finally been brought to her table, she'd question the waitress, maybe she had encountered Reyna before. It wouldn't hurt to ask. @Sleepy Seal
  22. O Cothmas tree, 

    O Cothmas tree, 

    How lovely are thy branches~

  23. Better Than Gore

    Curse Of The Ursa

    Nyra greeted the waitress with a smile. "Steak if you have it, preferably rare." She considered ordering a drink, but this wasn't a vacation by any means, so it was business as usual. "A water would also be appreciated." Was added in before the waitress was out of earreach. Locating her target may have been harder than she originally predicted, after all, she wasn't about to start interrogating townsfolk for information. But maybe that would have been easier than waiting for the information to fall onto her lap. Once her food and beverage had arrived, she didn't hesitate. Taking hold of her fork and knife only to cut into the steak, shoveling into her mouth and chewing with a satisfying sigh. Typically she preferred her steak raw, however, that may have made her stick out more than necessary. So rare it was, unfortunately. Taking a look around the room, a couple patrons were taken notice of. There was a mysterious looking man sitting at the bar, sporting a hat of sorts, drinking alone. Granted, she was eating alone, so maybe it wasn't so out of the ordinary. One other piqued Nyra's curiosity, a woman, about three tables down. She was drinking what appeared to be coffee, Nyra could see the steam steadily rising from the cup. Taking a quick whiff, it was certainly coffee, Nyra's sense of smell was spot-on. "Care to join me?" Nyra inquired, speaking loud enough to reach the woman. @Sleepy Seal
  24. Better Than Gore

    Church On The Hill

    Spending time with Constans was always loved and anticipated. With her withdraw into seclusion, she hadn’t been able to do so very often, which was regrettable. Especially with how bustling he had been. Constantly in a meeting or regulating the development of their new home. Even now, their time together had to remain short, for time was of the essence. Blairsville was a remarkable trek, Nyra had to leave as soon as possible if she wanted to arrive in a timely fashion. "Yes," She reacted, grinning shyly. Constans appreciating her beauty only added to the pink shade gradually, however, without a doubt introducing itself on her cheeks. At the point he started to clarify her errand, said blush was pushed away to clear a path for a genuine yet understanding expression. "I'm aware of how dangerous she is, Father. My involvement with the undead is lacking, however, I can certainly handle myself. Hopefully, it doesn't come down to violence, or we probably won't have a foe to battle." Nyra snickered. She was solid, with or without having to shift, if her life was in peril... Lord have mercy on whoever threatened it. "Is there anything, specifically, I ought to carry with me, Father?" Nyra was, obviously, alluding to gear. Going equipped with tons of weaponry most likely wasn't the sharpest thought, particularly if her intent was to obtain knowledge. On the other hand, if the chance of battle introduced itself, she wouldn’t want to be ill-prepared for the circumstance. "I'd imagine my sword and clothes that aren’t too cumbersome, just in case I have to depart in a hurry." Nyra included trusting that Constans would contribute his two cents. @Vansin
  25. Better Than Gore

    Church On The Hill

    Nyra had, for the most part, separated herself from the larger part of Coth since the brute attack. Just a chosen few people were welcome in her modest abode. Not that she was intentionally staying away from anybody specifically; Constans knew the emotional toll she experienced when she changed form, it weighed substantially on her mind. The anxiety was incessant-- what might have happened had she hurt somebody while being in that hated, monstrous form? Fortunately, she hadn't. Generally, she was reflecting, constraining the monstrosity inside as though it had been a part identity. What made it tick? What she could do to tame it? How could she tap into its capacity willfully instead of depending on fury? She could only hope that maybe, maybe there was an enchantment or something that could bring her peace. Today, however, she couldn't let the dark feelings keep her hidden away. Today Nyra would wander out of her protected space and visit with those she thought most about. Coth required her, regardless of whether she merited that respect or not. Getting dressed was the hardest part, her reflective state left her extremely lazy. Taking as much time as necessary, she chose to don a tight-fitting robe, the cowl of which would help in her detachment shielding the glow of the sun from her face and concealing her from those she didn't want. Constans had asked for her participation to go over a portion of the building plans, getting ready for their future development. Coth had once been a basic homestead town, as of not long ago they hadn't envisioned growing past that. With the assistance of their once aggressors, they had developed tremendously. Their once quiet village was that of a blasting town, an ever increasing number of individuals made the trip from their home to settle down and wound up one with the green fire. Without interruption for a while, Nyra had the chance to go outside of Coth and investigate the huge and obscure. Yet, more imperatively, she was being sent to research a potential adversary, and the strategy was right up her alley. Nyra was to pick up the trust of this adversary, become a close acquaintance with them, just to take their mysteries and report them to her God. What's more, Nyra knew, this individual might have the information to relieve the monster inside her. Nyra advanced through town in a rush, gesturing in affirmation to the chosen few individuals who perceived her. Constans was, as far as anyone knew, situated in the Church, so that's where she went. After arriving, she pulled back her hood and took a full breath in, and gradually out. Investigating, there was shockingly no one in sight. Maybe Constans was upstairs. Pausing for a minute to accumulate her stance, Nyra started her rising upstairs and energy surpassed her after observing him. "Papa!" She hollered as she hurried over the floor, she may have been intruding on something, yet she couldn't have cared less. When she contacted him, she welcomed him with an embrace, crushing firmly and cuddling into his neck. Just to kiss him on the cheek before discharging her embrace. @Vansin
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