Oct. 21st, 2010

[identity profile] akonken.livejournal.com
It had seemed like she had been skulking around that fantastic and horrible woodland for eternity. She had been chasing things - warped and terrified creatures - relentlessly, too afraid herself to give up the pursuit.

The golden bird had flown further and further from her territory, but she followed him still, padding on her large black paws. Sometimes she sniffed the air to make sure she was still on the right track. The trees thinned into fields, and then thick brambles, but she squeezed through them. The bird was tangled ahead; she could just see the tip of his tail. Just a bit further and she would have him. How pleased her master would be.

Just a little further. Just a little, and then...

Suddenly she was in the hard, bright, noisy city that she suddenly remembered was London. She stumbled slightly as she suddenly found herself on two legs instead of four. She made a rather undignified chuffing noise as she realised the bird must be...there! Just to the left.

But she wasn't sure she wanted to chase him now. She was home. She was where she belonged; not in some thicket but in the thick of a throng. She let him go, as she was now on the track of something else - an idea.

Somebody must have missed her. She went to a police station.

After some questions - it turned out somebody there knew her - they took her to the hospital. She had amnesia, they said, and wanted to make sure she was okay.

Her family was called. Worst of all, she was called. She watched in horror as, after her three brothers, she herself walked into the room. Only it wasn't her, it was a bundle of sticks and - it made the most awful shriek, and she screamed as well.

It went downhill from there...
[identity profile] lslaw.livejournal.com
Sgt. Arthur Decker, Hertfordshire Constabulary. Died 28/09/08 in the line of duty, posthumously decorated for bravery.

Dr Solomon Crane. Died 27/09/08, GSW.

Andrew Peter Smith. Died 28/09/08, traumatic exsanguination.

Mr James Peach, civil servant. Died 28/09/08, suspected foul play.

Dr Julius van Helsing. Died 29/09/08, suicide by hanging. Police noted a scent of lavender in the room where he was found. He was believed to have murdered his housemate, Jayne Brookes, by strangulation.

Dr Janos Caligari, TV personality. Died 29/09/08, found in his home, bound and tortured by parties unknown.

Dominic St John Ragwick, NFA. Died 05/03/08, strangulation, 31/07/08, GSW, 21/08/08, RTA, 18/09/08, suicide, 29/09/08, drowning.

Sean Karellin, MI6 Analyst. Died 29/09/08, circumstances unreleased.

Unknown homeless man. Died 30/09/08, hit and run.


Haywalk, Wretched. Created 31/10/08.
ext_20269: (mood - emo ugly duckling)
[identity profile] annwfyn.livejournal.com
"So join us," he said, and his teeth gleamed white in the moonlight.

He was beautiful, this creature of blood and shadow, and Rai Riley was terrified of him. She'd been scared of him since she first met him. He'd been the perfect Daeva predator. She was just some kid with the fang marks still on her neck, trying to make it look like she knew what she was doing. Her Sire wasn't about; Jack Riley never bothered never sticking around.

"You understand betrayal," he said, and that was true. Everyone Rai had ever loved had betrayed her, from the father who'd locked her away in a hospital to avoid the scandal of a child abuse case, to the man who had promised her the world at the bottom of a cup of blood, and then walked away when her thirst for blood began to consume her, to the Sire who had kept her for a week before he moved on. A week! She'd been an unwanted daughter, unwanted ghoul, and now unwanted childe.

She tilted her face up towards her companion, and felt his lips, very cool against hers.

She had made the world pay for her pain, over and over again. Last month she had found the Domitor who had left him. He had seemed glad to see her, had welcomed her back into his arms. Then she'd cut his Humanity away from him. She had hurt men, women, Kindred; anyone who's happiness reminded her of that which had been denied to her. And she had enjoyed it.

She felt her companions hand, cool on her neck. He was offering her a new way, a new path. A way to hurt all those who had hurt her, and a great many who hadn't.

"We're called the 'Children of Judas'," he said, and pulled her closer.

Was there any reason for her to refuse?
[identity profile] lslaw.livejournal.com
The Ukrainian Empire, 1993

The attack was swift and brutal, the most deadly armed force in the modern world making predictably short work of a humanitarian aid station. The slaughter took less than five minutes and the three survivors - two nurses and a doctor - were dragged for miles through the mountains to the Premier's castle. At the gates, the doctor and one nurse were slaughtered without a word. The third was dragged into the castle and locked in a tower chamber.

After an hour, the sun sank below the horizon.

The nurse closed her eyes. "Why?" she asked.

"Because of you." The voice seemed to come from all around her.

"Me?" she had to laugh.

"Every destiny has a bane; you should know that, witch."

She looked up sharply and opened her eyes. The Premier was tall and pale, with neat, dark hair. He looked little more than twenty. His lips parted over long, stark-white fangs. His eyes grew wide and she felt his mind clawing into hers.

"But..." Her voice cut off as the Premier moved with inhuman speed to sink those terrible fangs into her throat. Her untrained magic found no purchase in his dead flesh as her blood drained into him.

"My bane, I have known for years, was a witch named Ruby Whyte," he said, as though the dead mage could still hear him.

The Premier let her body fall and walked away. As he descended the stairs he hummed softly the music he had tasted in her blood.
[identity profile] frothy-bunny.livejournal.com
 No-one notices if the homeless go missing. No fetch left. A pair of hands grab the cold and shivering girl from under the blanket and then she’s gone. A new world. Changed.


Lucinda puts the baby into her shoulder sling and places the bundle of twigs into the crib. The baby is sleeping soundly and she always thinks they’re so cute with their little fingers and little toes. She looks at the pink breathing thing in the sling and can’t see the similarity herself, fetches are just that bit cuter. A voice from behind her speaks.
“What are you doing?” She turns and sees a small girl standing there, a memory tugs at her mind. The small girl reminds her of someone. “Are you a faerie? is that a changeling?” The small girl seems curious. She moves over to the baby in the sling. “the one you’ve just put in looks nothing like my brother”
A baby brother, a younger sister, what is she doing? she looks at the bundle in the crib. This stops now and she kills the fetch. The bits break and the baby cries in the sling. She places the small baby back into the crib as voices can be heard in the hall way. She strokes the small girls cheek and goes back out the window.

Now what.
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