GangrelPosts: 64Location: Everywhere "they" didn't look.Joined: Thu Aug 14, 2003 9:41 pm
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[i:0b14b16ad1]“There’s supposed to be a natural order. A rule that determines how things are, and how they should be. A sequence of twists and turns of fate that preset that good guys always win. And that if you have it coming, or it’s your time to die, death will come for you. I’d like to believe that at least the first part is true. But the bit about death coming for you? Well, that in my experience is bullshit....â€
[b:0b14b16ad1]Now[/i:0b14b16ad1][/b:0b14b16ad1]
The cinders of a ruin explored by fire, are a scarring, charred thing. The jutting skeletons of fire-chewed timbers, the kicking dust of ash. The whole affair left the once proud structure in a state of unease, littered by the not-so-amenable spiders of fire torn furniture. Favourite chairs reduced to not so much as a charcoaled whisper.
It had once been a busy building. But as with all things contemporary and exciting, it had come to an abrupt and unforgiving end.
The carpet of thick black dust began to heave and shiver as though an unseen skin beneath it trembled with breath. However the source of the motion was very far from life.
A square rose from the black, coal-y sea. Rising up like a sunken ship retrieved. It fell forward, sending plumes of acrid biting soot in every direction.
He stepped from the cavity it exposed, dusting himself off as he climbed out. His eyes wild- wide and excitable. His clothes fire-torn, negligible and ghost-like, he crept over the revenant of the building he’d destroyed.
He tried to comb dust and soot from his hair, preening himself pointlessly. A silvered, sliver of rage in his eyes as he dragged a body from his “Lazarus’ Tombâ€. The body sparked into motion, coughing up lungfuls of pitch air.
[i:0b14b16ad1]“You dirty fuck! What the fuck are you doing!? You’re a fucking dead V, Finn! You hear me!? You’re fucking dead!â€[/i:0b14b16ad1]
He looked down at the prone figure, his eyes coolly examining the multitude of injuries the vampire at his feet had sustained in the explosion. A curious, chilling smile of satisfaction crossed his lips. He answered the Sabbat pack-mate. Tearing his throat out with his talons.
[i:0b14b16ad1]“Old habits die hard.â€[/i:0b14b16ad1]
_________________ 'Stop worrying about what he'll do to you, start worrying about me!
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