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Post by Catalin Holiday on Jun 10, 2012 10:09:05 GMT -5
The roaring and deafening sound of the motorcycle ripped through the evening air as the female weaved in and out of traffic. Leather gloved firmly protected her dainty looking hands and a shiny, onyx toned helmet hid her platinum blonde hair making anyone looking on believe she was some secret agent or something. She wore skin tight leather pants, a corset, and a skin tight, long sleeved cardigan that was like a second skin on her thin arms, large Louboutins with spikes jutting out of the front adding a nice menacing touch to the outfit. Everything, as per usual, was black minus the white collar around her neck. As the rode her Scrambler styled Honda CL350 after the SUV up ahead, she knew, already that she would have company. A lot of people were after this guy - Nathaniel included. True, most just wanted him for information but she'd been hired to kill him so she didn't give a flying fuck whether people would be pissed ta her for doing so or not. Speeding up as the SUV turned into the outskirts of some suburbian neighborhoods, she reached for one Beretta 92F that had been sitting snugly in her utility belt and cocked it, holding it at the driver's head. She pulled the trigger and it hit him square in the temple, loud words in Chinese being produced from her real target in the back seat. She moved away from the SUV, backing up before aiming her gun at the back wheels and adding a lovely hole in each, causing the SUV to slam into a traffic pole at an intersection, roll onto its side, and skid a good long away down the road. Cat, herself, came to a skidding halt. She could feel the presence of others coming, could sense the shadows growing darker and fiercer as her target opened the car door and climbed out of the top, continuing to curse and bleeding from a large gash on the side of his head.
He was a very large and muscular man, the tattoo of a snake running down the left side of his face, wrapping around his neck and ending on his shoulder. He wore a business suit in charcoal gray and had a full head of raven hair slicked back but now a bit undone. Expensive loafers hit the slick pavement littered with glass and metal and as he looked over at Catalain, he fixed his maroon tie, ran his fingers through his hair, and smirked. She had gotten both guns in her hand by then, filled with bullets that would shatter upon contact and release tiny nano-bots hungry for flesh. A new toy of her's but the only way to stop them from continuing their all you can eat buffet, one would need a serum which she had left back home. No need for it when she was facing yet another mage. This guy was crazy, though...going into the black market, trying to jip everything, collecting information and getting ready to expose basically the rest of the underworld to the human population. He was a powerful enough man - a gangster who had a nice front and great samaritan image with the public. She could care less if supernaturals were exposed but after about three people approached her last night at the black market, telling her he needed to be dead and they'd give her a hefty paycheck, she was on it like white on rice without hesitation.
But he was a mage and mage's, no matter what the country, always annoyed the living hell out of her. It had been well over a week since the crap went down with that werewolf and, of course, she'd kept an eye on him. She'd changed the locks on her apartment and reset all her systems just in case. She even de-bugged it should he have put something in there he wasn't supposed to. It had made her feel invaded when she realized someone had been in her home. Granted, her home wasn't much with all the filing cabinets, lack of food, stacks of papers, and technology all over the place (and a mattress with some random covers which just went to show she cared more about her gadgets than she did her own health) plus the lack of furniture, but it was her home and she hadn't invited him. The only time she invited someone was if it was a random, female one night stand from a club and she promptly had them leave in the morning before they could get a chance to snoop around.
Cat remained silent as she took off her helmet, having abandoned it by her bike, and let the clicking of her heels hit the pavement with every movement. He lifted his large hands and then was rapidly saying some incantation in Chinese and she smirked as the balls of energy and fire filled his hands and he shot them in her direction. With grace and stealth, she easily hopped out of the way though it was obvious she was supernatural by how fast she'd moved and then she was racing to him, jumping up a bit to bring her foot around and slam the front, spiked toe of her heels into his rib cage. He let out a loud and angry sound but she didn't want to kill him that fast. By then, she had one of her Beretta's at his temple. She kind of wanted him to suffer a bit more, especially when he was conjuring something else up while gripping his side, muttering that this was an expensive suit and she was ruining it, "It's your blood, not mine," she retorted in Chinese and as his arm swung around to knock the gun out of her hand, she ducked, getting a firm elbow to her own rib cage in the process. Annoyance crept onto her face and she was glad she wore that corset. It absorbed most of the shock.
Then, frustrated he was being a nuisance, she held both guns pointed to the back of his head and pulled the triggers, sending one hell of a mess all over the pavement as he fell to the ground. Using his expensive suit, she cleaned off her guns and then reached down, using her heel to slam on his finger with the snake ring on it and putting it in a sealed bag she got from her handy little belt. Tucking the finger away since she needed it as proof that he was dead, she cocked her head to the side like a curious kitten as the nano-bots visibly ate away at his brain. Even if he managed to somehow survive, he would be a vegetable. She didn't have much time to admire her handy work because out of the shadows crept out at least a handful of mages, all either in alliance with him or wanting information from him, and soon enough, she saw Nathaniel as well. Standing, she smirked and cracked her neck, reading herself in a preditorial crouch and letting out a snarl like a jungle cat as if beckoning them to come after her.
Some of them looked down at the man and how his wounds seemed to fester instead of just remain simple holes. The were growing in size and quickly despite him being dead and two or three looked at her guns and backed off. They probably heard about those infamous guns - how you never know what the bullets contained. She had a couple more rounds left and if anything, she'd just do some hand to hand combat. That was always fun too. Maybe she was signing her own death wish by killing someone as valuable as him, but she quite frankly didn't care. Not only was she getting a fat paycheck - she'd taken Nathaniel's. It just added more fuel to the fire, hm?
Two mages came after her first with some kind of spell they were chanting away but she raced toward them quickly, amusement and excitement rushing through her, mixed in with her own adrenaline as she leaped up into the air above them ,doing a nice flip so she could easily point her guns down at them, and pulled the triggers just as they looked up. Bad idea. One hit one of the mages square between the eyes and the other hit his right eye. They most definitely wouldn't live from that and their little incantations stopped quickly by the time she quietly and easily landed on her feet, skidding only the slightest bit because of her heels. Two had already fled from seeing the wounds of the Snake tattoo mage so there was one more mage and Nathaniel left. She easily pointed a gun at each and smiled wickedly, "Doggy come out to play fetch?" she chuckled as she heard the other mage putting up a spell for protection and she pulled the trigger without looking at him, hitting him in the chest before he could finish. She didn't feel like dealing with mages. Though whether she'd kill Nathaniel or not was another story, "Go ahead, get mad, Nathaniel," she was walking toward him with a smirk on her face. Yeah, maybe she was asking for a death wish - provoking a werewolf like that. But he had obviously pissed her off last time and since she didn't feel like going to him - she'd make him come to her and if she felt killing him would make her feel better, even if he had saved her life, then so be it. The douche bag had no right to go to her apartment. Her bag was one thing, her home was another.
Truth was, she didn't like that he knew so much about her and then had gotten her as angry as she had been. She usually didn't like that sort of thing...being provoked that way. She didn't like her collar glowing or being forced to turn into a stupid cat because it would drain her so miserably. The collar was a form of control and whoever placed it on her had done so to keep whatever was wicked inside of her, whatever demon lurked, on lock down because it was obviously dangerous enough. If anything, Nathaniel Devlin was asking for a death wish when he decided to take it upon himself to investigate her life. She didn't want to know everything he knew about her. He knew enough for her to have to problem with pulling the trigger...Well, she was buying some time, really. He did save her...but she wanted to kick his ass anyway.
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Post by Nathaniel Devlin on Jun 14, 2012 7:47:24 GMT -5
The streets were quiet as two sleek black cars sped through, their engines making no noise as they moved on the pavement. Nate had always hated cars. They were too bulky, big, and expensive. Plus, he almost always got car sick in them unless he looked out the window. That was one perk he liked about living in this city—cars were optional. Unfortunately though, he didn’t have a say in the matter. The client this time around was new and therefore an idiot. She didn’t seem to trust in Nate’s ability, which was strange since she had hired him for them. Probably he had been recommended by one of his other clients, the young werewolf mused as he watched the buildings zip by, wishing he could feel the open air on his face rather than the air conditioning. She’d obviously hired him either out of fear, respect, or flattery to whomever it was who had recommended Nate in the first place—he’d find out the specifics later, otherwise it’d just bug the hell out of him. Still, a job was a job and the client was paying him well. Rather well. Nate flipped open the folder in his hands then and glanced at the file he was given a few days ago.
The man he was after was from some Chinese mafia, though to the public eye he was a somewhat good Samaritan who had decided to run for governor. It was funny though, Nate thought as he looked at the picture again. Compared to his image in public, the man in this picture had a snake tattoo that ran down his face and around his neck, ending on his shoulders. The man didn’t have the tattoo in public. It would be funny though if he did, Nate thought as he closed the folder as he looked back out the window. Even in this progressive century, some things never changed. Tattoos on the face didn’t really bode well when trying to show an image such as the man was. People couldn’t trust those with tattoos much—especially with what the man had. He was either really stupid or asking for trouble when he got it. It was a good thing he was a mage though, otherwise he’d have to laser the tattoo off and those left scars, ruining the man’s face. Without the tattoo though, Nate understood why he was chosen to lead this double life. He wasn’t really handsome, though he wasn’t ugly either. Rather, his face was the type of wherein you could trust in—there was no other way Nate could explain it. He had a face that was perfect for politics. He tossed the file on the seat beside him. He had of course already memorized all this—it was a very thin file. Well, the copy they gave him was. Nate had a more extensive file on the man back in his office, though he didn’t bring it with him. By the time the young werewolf was done researching on the man, he knew the name of his three mistresses, his favorite places to go to meet them, his position in the mafia, among others. It wasn’t really that hard though, not compared to a certain blonde and her mysterious collar. The young werewolf’s thoughts were interrupted as one of his escorts spoke.
“We’re here,” the man said as he glanced back at Nate. Judging from his tone, and his scent, he also didn’t trust in the young werewolf’s abilities. The man wore a black suit with a white long sleeved shirt under it—very old mafia.
“Good,” Nate answered as he glanced at the man, “I’m getting carsick so the sooner we get out of this god forsaken car the better.” Unlike them, Nate wore what he usually wore on a job. The young werewolf wore a dark brown leather jacket with a gray shirt underneath with the words God help us all written in the front while he wore his usual denim jeans and a pair of white sneakers. He didn’t much like the man’s scent or any of his “team’s” scents. Most of them smelled of distrust when it concerned Nate—distrust and arrogance. Nate hated working with people like that. Things always went bad whenever that happened. It was then that Nate heard it, the sound of shots being fired while metal crashed on metal.
“I guess we’re partying early guys,” Nate spoke up, “The target’s just crashed. Park the car.”
It took a few minutes for them to reach the crash scene, and by then they were obviously too late. The car, and whoever was driving it, obviously wouldn’t survive. The target in question though was lying, face first on the pavement with two holes in his head, which, if Nate wasn’t hallucinating, were growing bigger. It was gruesome, enough that two of his “escorts” ran the moment they saw though judging from their scents, fear had only been part of it. They were probably tasked to report back, and since the man was dead, it was obviously a failure—well, to them anyway. Huh, Nate thought as he glanced at the rest of the scene, wondering what had caused the whole thing—Oh. It was then that he noticed her. The blonde was in full combat get up with her black outfit and her big black bike.
The collar ruined the image though.
Nate’s team wasted no time as two of them began to chant spells, though Catlin caught on quick as she ran towards them before she jumped, her guns aimed at their heads as she pulled the trigger. Not much of an escort, Nate thought as only one mage was left standing, the man who was with him in the car. He was in the middle of chanting a protective spell when the blonde spoke towards Nate before she shot him on the chest, cutting off his spell as he fell on the pavement. Nate knew the man wasn’t going to get up again. So much for an escort, Nate thought as the blonde spoke again.
“Why would I get mad, Cat?” Nate asked as he smiled at the blonde. “I’m actually glad you got rid of them,” He said as he gestured at all the dead, “I don’t like killing, they always left a bad taste in my mouth so thanks.”
The young werewolf disappeared then as he moved passed her and into the wreckage of the car. He quickly picked up the sleek black box that had been carefully placed in a secret compartment before he moved back again to his original spot. “This was what I was after,” Nate said as he showed the box to the blonde before putting it inside his jacket pocket, “Though I’m not surprised you thought he was the target—what with you spying on me and all.” True, his objective was to capture the man and interrogate him for information, but then the little black box was better. He had gathered enough intel on the man that Nate knew he had with him a little black box, something that protected him from his own mafia should they decide he was “no longer needed”. It was a thousand times better than the taking in the man himself.
“What’re you going to do now Cat,” Nate said as he flashed her another smile, “Shoot me again?” The young werewolf wouldn’t put it passed this blonde. She had done it before. Not only that, but she had clawed at his face and bugged his apartment—even after the young werewolf had saved her life. Now she had been tricked, no doubt she’d realize that. Nate had led a false trail for her to follow, having known about her little cameras since the beginning. By his research, it seemed like his target was the man himself, though he had the information on his true objective hidden in the most secret place he could think of—inside his head.
That was Arc City, for you Nate thought cynically, everyone was out to screw you over.
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Post by Catalin Holiday on Jun 14, 2012 23:04:18 GMT -5
Cat hissed at him as he spoke, the barrel of the gun never leaving him as he moved, the other at her side but cocked and ready to go, "Regardless, I get paid for his head and if murder leaves a bad taste in your mouth, I'm surprised you're not sick to your stomach from the other night," her British accent was thick as she poke. She watched him retrieve the box but in the back of her mind, she wasn't all that interested. It was their war - their information. It was the same with the vampires hating the werewolves, the Russians and the Italians. She wasn't part of their war - she had her own battles and they didn't necessarily involve her. She was just the supplier, "and I would shoot you..." she pulled the barrel of the gun away from him, "But then you actually wouldn't live from this one. Your body wouldn't be able to fix itself fast enough," she seemed proud of her latest gadget but as she heard a few car doors slam, her face went straight to the source of the noise, realizing it was the car Nathaniel had come in and without thinking twice, pulled the trigger on a female. She smelled funny. They all smelled funny. It hit her in the leg and she made some weird sound. Cat couldn't tell if it was in pain or shock that she'd gotten shot by some random person. She surprised her...you can't surprise a cat and not expect to not get clawed at. Nathaniel learned that one first hand. Don't mess with the kitty.
"But I do recommend researching your clients before you get involved in their little games," she turned away from him as what looked like a team seemed to be approaching them. She held the guns up to them, heels clicking as she walked calmly toward them looking like a cat ready to play with some yarn. In many ways, Catalin was a bit in her element. It wasn't that she loved killing people. It was the control she felt in the process. It wasn't exciting or erotic - no...It almost felt natural, maybe even like an obligation. It felt like a necessity she needed in order to keep her own mind sane. Still, she didn't do this type of thing often. Usually she left people injured but not dead - with enough fear instilled in them that they wouldn't mess with her ever again.
And it was then that one of the men, with the black suit and white button down, seemed to notice the woman's leg wound was not looking to good but by then, Cat had shot three of them, stopping only to pick up her bike, "I'm not the only one who's been watching you dog," she called over her shoulder as she swung one leg over the bike, "If you weren't so busy trying to give me a false lead, you would have noticed who they were working for that recommended you," though it wasn't really a recommendation. When she figured out, albite it took her longer than she would have liked to admit since she'd been swamped with other things to do, who it was that hired him, she'd done her usual background check on them and then some as well as the person who had hired them to hire him. Sure, they'd give him a paycheck and then they'd turn into the goonies they were and probably kill him. They had to bring their supposed "master" his head - he knew too much and they didn't like that. Not one bit. It explained their scents, how untrustworthy they seemed.
Hell, the woman who had lifted her pant leg while still making that weird sound as her bullet wound grew had a snake tattoo wrapping around the calf that matched the man. They each had a large number of those snake tattoos and they all had spells that brought said tattoos to life. It might seem easy for a werewolf to defeat a snake but could he defeat ones that were larger than life? A group of them - venomous? She wouldn't have doubted if they had weapons laced with silver in them - ones they had acquired from her at least a year ago (it was how she found her information. She has a file on all her clients). But already, the tattoos on the people were glowing a faint silver tone. Maybe they managed to get tattoos with silver laced into the ink? That would have just been a double whammy and she didn't like snakes. They were...ick.
"Are you coming or not?!" she yelled over the roar of the motorcycle as she started it up, a large snake appearing, "You can keep your fucking box!" she yelled out at him. She hadn't put on her helmet yet as she tossed it at him, not bothering to reassure him that he probably wouldn't make it out of this one alive - no matter how good of a fighter he was. No matter how strong of a werewolf he'd become. These people weren't from around here. They just wanted their guy dead and apparently Nate's black box and if he wanted his pay check, he'd have to go to the person above them - a man by the name of Aiguo Hyun-Shik. Weird name - a bit of a tongue twister but she liked it. It sounded nice when you knew the language like she did.
Either way, more snakes were coming into view and she revved the bike as if to tell him to hurry the fuck up or she was leaving him. Even she wouldn't go up against those things and she probably had technology to beat them. Well, she knew how to, all she had to do was think about it for a few minutes and she figured it out, but then Nate wouldn't get his paycheck. Not that she wanted to admit that she was surprisingly thinking of someone else's needs above her own. By all means - fuck no. But eh did need that paycheck - if anything to get some meat on them bones, not that she had any room to talk. Together they probably weighed less than her helmet.
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Post by Nathaniel Devlin on Jun 17, 2012 12:57:46 GMT -5
Nate quirked his eyebrow as the blonde spoke, her words annoying the young werewolf—even though they were partly true. Yes, Nate hated killing, yet he killed. Well, that whole situation was somewhat different from this one—Nate didn’t really have much of a choice. No, that wasn’t entirely true. He did have a choice; he could have fled. Fleeing just meant leaving Catlin to fend for herself at that time and, judging from the stuff that happened later, Nate doubted she would’ve made it. Though Nate didn’t regret saving the blonde’s ass that night, he was beginning to have an inclination for regret as the blonde continued to speak. Nate couldn’t help, but shake his head at her.
There it was again, her utter confidence in her abilities. Things like that always got into trouble, especially for the blonde. Her confidence in herself had already landed her in trouble last time, hadn’t she learn her lesson yet? Anyway, confident as she was, she wouldn’t be able to hit me, Nate thought as he heard her shoot one of the other “escorts” that his client had sent to follow at a “safe distance”. Still, the blonde had skill. She did carry out her little assassination quickly, though by no means cleanly. She wasn't subtle. The whole scene had her signature in it, especially with her little unique ammo. Whoever would seek revenge knew just whom to target. Really, having lived a few years in Arc, and suddenly she thought herself an expert. Catlin really needed to learn more. Nate blamed her sheltered life.
The blonde spoke again then, breaking the young werewolf’s thought as she informed him of his client’s betrayal. Nate couldn’t help it anymore—he laughed. Still green, he thought as he watched her shoot a couple more of his client’s men. Of course he didn’t do much checking on his clients. He really didn’t care what they did. It was none of his business. And the betrayal? Expected. You had to expect getting screwed over once in a while at the type of job Nate was in. Didn’t she wonder why he was so poor even though he had such rich clients? Though Cat had taken down a few of the men in the black suits, more had shown up. Nate sighed. He didn’t really like killing people—that’s why he never took assassination jobs—but judging from their somewhat weird scent, he was going to have to today.
Nate’s eyes had begun to glow as he turned to face his enemies when the blonde spoke as the engine of her bike roared to life. Nate blinked as he glanced back at the blonde, the glow gone from his eyes. Did he just hear right? Ugh, the girl really was annoying. The young werewolf had thought she wanted to kill him, but now it looked like she was trying to save him. Well, either way, this was the better option as he caught the helmet Cat tossed at him.
“Really? A helmet?” Nate asked as he got on the bike, just as glows of the enemies’ tattoos reached their peak, “Well, I guess safety first and all that?” He chuckled as he put it on.
“So are we going, or are we going to wait for them to finish?” Nate asked, his voice muffled inside the helmet.
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Post by Catalin Holiday on Jun 17, 2012 14:00:55 GMT -5
This was precisely why Nathaniel was poor and Catalin, well, wasn't. Sure her signature was on everything but it was done so purposely. People could come and try to seek revenge but about 99.9% of the time, they knew better and chose to stay away instead. She was confident in the message she sent by killing off people in the fashion she'd always done - how she was trained to do so. She was taught not to hide the blood bath but instead to hide who she really was. Her history, things that made her who she was, the mystery of her collar, those she loved and cared for. It was why it had been so difficult for Nathaniel to even be able to dig up anything on her and at that, it wasn't absolutely everything. It was just the tip of the iceburg. He could know facts: where she lived throughout her life, who her father was (though he hadn't figured out her mother just yet), her schooling, and things of that nature. She did live a sheltered life but it wasn't a very pleasant one. He didn't know the mockery she had suffered just because of how drastically different she looked compared to everyone else. He didn't know certain events that made her the person she was today, how she'd essentially only been accepted by her father when she wasn't in her human form because it seemed more like she was a pet than an actual daughter. He didn't know about the curse of the wretched collar that liked messing with her head and her emotions. He thought he knew her so well...he didn't know anything.
Once he had the helmet on, she revved up the bike and took off, the sound of his voice, to human ears, lost to the deafening sound of the roar coming from the engine and muffler. She easily moved through the streets, not heading anywhere in particular though a specific halfway house came into her mind. It was in the woods, since she already knew they were going to be tracked for at least the next twenty four hours. Her place was safe, though. She wasn't that stupid and that confident in her abilities and weaponry. Her platinum hair whipped itself around her face and to any human, she would seem stupid, driving in such a way. But she could see magnificently in the dark. She didn't need a helmet. She was a bit of a reckless driver, smiling at how fast they were going and enjoying herself a bit too much, but she still had some caution.
She went in multiple ways so it would be harder for them to be tracked before she turned into the woods onto an old road that weaved perilously through thick trees and overgrown pathways. Eventually, she came to a bit of a stop in front of what looked like a bunch of overgrown bushes and gave a swift movement of her head for him to hop off and follow. They had to walk from here. It had taken a while, a good half an hour, almost forty minutes, to get there by bike. Running or walking would take probably twice the amount depending on how fast. She moved the bushes out of the way from the rock filled road that led into the dark, lined with trees that created a thick canopy as if to hide it from areal view. She grabbed the bike to lead it through the narrow opening and once Nate was through, she put the bushes back and grabbed brown dirt from within a small package she had and tossed it onto the bushes. It was mixed with some same-colored powder that would hide their scent until it, of course, rained and washed it away but by then it wouldn't matter. It wasn't supposed to rain for another couple of days anyway.
Catalin didn't say anything as she walked, rolling the bike along idly next to her. The path seemed to only go deeper and deeper and at the pace she was going, it would take them at least ten to fifteen minutes to get to the halfway house she normally used when her apartment was unavailable. She lived like the poorest person on the planet but obviously had money - not her father's. Her own hard earned money. Even if Nathaniel did speak to her, she remained quiet, practically mute, her mind a jumble of coming up with a plan before the cabin came into view. It wasn't huge, a comfortable side, and made completely out of wood. It had a porch that wrapped around the entire thing and it looked ordinary and abandoned sitting there in the thicket of large trees. There was even vines growing along its sides, the windows looking dusty on both floors - so dusty that anyone outside couldn't peer in should they happen upon it.
She parked the bike on the side of the cabin where there was a small space between the vine covered wall and an old willow tree, and then stepped up onto the porch. Her eyes went up to certain spots on the ceiling, taking note of the itty bitty cameras so they were still in place. Instead of opening the door with a simple key, she opened the box where the doorbell was located and pressed her thumb to the green pad. It scanned it and then the door made clicking sounds as it automatically unlocked. Once all the bolts seemed to come off, she opened the door,holding it open for Nate, "Try not to touch anything important, yeah?" she said it simply as she closed the door behind them and flipped the light switch. The windows were still darkened, thanks to that thick coating of "dust" she'd plastered on there years ago. The inside was a decent sized open space with a curling wooden staircase in the dead center. The kitchen was in the back, the living room to the right, and where the dining room should be, it looked practically like a bat cave with all the damn laptops set up on the table, wires coming out and plugged into extension chords. Large metal boxes were stacked, each labeled with different type of ammo or weaponry and then on the far end where there should have been a bar was instead like a chemistry lab complete with beakers and a clear closet filled with chemicals. Almost everything else was empty, much like Cat's own apartment, and even the living room had papers stacked in neat piles everywhere with paperweights on top. She'd been here last about three weeks ago, while working on a project, and hadn't been able to come back due to recent events. The back door was bolted up just as tightly.
Upstairs was a lot smaller. The space was once again open with the ceiling shaped like the point of a triangle. There was a bathroom on one extreme with a standing shower, sink, and toilet (all working of course). The other end held a queen sized bed that looked completely untouched with the red, plush covers and fluffy pillows. There was a nightstand on either side and it was by the window, just as dark as all the others, though it was round instead of rectangular. There was a dresser off to the side, again covered in papers, and a plush fur rug at the foot of the bed in a pristine and gleaming white. The stairs was located in the dead center of it all, marked only by a railing surrounding it in wood. Throughout the entire house, the only picture there was was of her as a child with her fallen angel nanny (a beautiful woman might I add), the two of them eating cotton candy while standing in front of a large ferris wheel - the signature one from London. She was wearing a bright, pastel pink sundress and matching flats, her platinum hair pinned out of her face by a polka dot bow. Her nanny wore her uniform and by the looks of it, the two seemed perfectly happy with each other as the three year old version of Cat held on to the woman's fingers like she would her own mother - but the two looked absolutely nothing alike.
At her apartment, Cat only had a picture of herself at the age of fifteen with a group of other girls obviously much older and all of them clad in school uniforms native to Russia. If looks could kill, anyone who looked at them would be dead twice over. Cat looked meaner in the picture, more severe and less happy and by then, she had the signature collar around her neck. The one picture she had when she was three? No collar. Her slender neck exposed and control free.
"There's a bed upstairs and a bathroom," she said simply, heading over to the laptops and playing the footage of the cameras as she spoke, "There's food in the kitchen but I recommend checking the date on everything," Cat normally brought food with her - food that didn't really expire - but there was still ramen in the cabinets along with some other microwavable foods that were still good in the freezer. She hadn't checked the fridge since she was last here and she'd brought a gallon of milk with her last time since she planned on staying away from the city for a while. She had no idea if it was even still good or not, "It's only for twenty four hours," she added in, a reminder that no, she wasn't going to keep him cooped up here forever.
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Post by Nathaniel Devlin on Jun 22, 2012 11:21:02 GMT -5
Just as Nate had finished speaking, the motorcycle propelling itself with a roar as the force pushed them both back within their seats. In reaction to the backward push, and instinct of self-preservation from what would have been a very painful fall (that, and the fact that he really was never good with cars—motorbikes included), Nate immediately clung on to the blonde’s body, using it as an anchor. The young werewolf was surprised at how small her frame was…a little more pressure and he was sure he could crush her. He also found her skin surprisingly soft, something that had previously escaped his notice when he had basically mounted her before. Now that he had noticed it though, it was the only part of the blonde he could notice.
Nate let go of his grip on the blonde, a little be too quickly, as he gripped the sides of the bike’s seat instead, the force of his grip making a small dent on the metal. He looked to his side, forcing himself to think of anything else other than Cat’s skin as they sped across the city, the directions the blonde took looked seemingly random. Nate tried to focus on keeping track of any pursuers, but judging from his ears, none had seemed to follow. Either that or they couldn’t catch up. It was strange, Nate thought, as Cat ducked into an alley. Though the blonde’s bike was fast, cars would still be able to catch up to it especially when the bike was occupied by two, albeit thin, people.
The scent of leaves, dirt, and various animals were caught by Nate’s nose then, catching the werewolf by surprise as he turned his head on the direction of the scents. It looked like Catlin had plans to leave the city as she led the bike into the woods, the dirt road she followed winding from one way to another as it seemed to dodge large trees and other thick vegetation that dotted the place. He stifled a groan.
Nate hated the woods.
Though he was a werewolf, Nate had never actually hunted for food before. It was one part of being a werewolf that Nate had disliked. It was true that his instincts were pointed towards the hunt, but he had always directed it towards investigation, which was a form of hunting, thus satiating that primal instinct. The very thought of hunting for food had always left a bad taste in Nate’s mouth—apparently, though he had been turned, he had no appetite for raw meat. It had seemed strange to Nate at first, but he eventually brushed it off, dismissing it as a blessing rather than a quirk.
The bike came to a stop then in front of a couple of overgrown bushes as Cat hopped off her bike. She jerked her head towards Nate to get off the bike as well, which the young werewolf easily complied with. Nate wanted to sigh as his shoes hit the ground, his weight leaving an impression on the ground as he followed the blonde. Though they were in the middle of the woods, at least they had finally gotten off the bike, the young werewolf mused to himself as the blonde led the way, pushing the bike along with her, deeper into her hideout. Catlin remained silent as they walked, though Nate didn’t complain. The lack of talking helped the young werewolf think of various plans as he remembered the trail he had taken while he probed the air with his nose, checking for any unwelcome guests…or traps the blonde may have set up. True, the blonde may have saved his life, but that didn’t mean Nate trusted her. Cat was, after all, prone to some sort of postmenstrual thing or some sort of mental disability, thus her apparent change of personality into a complete one-eighty at a blink of an eye. The last time they had met, the blonde had tried to kill him, then she thanked him, after which she threatened to kill him. It had been a very tiring night for the young werewolf.
The trees started to thin then, the thick underbrush had begun to thin as a wooden cabin came into view. From the looks of it, the cabin hadn’t been occupied in years, even decades, judging from the amount of dust that had rested on every nook and cranny of the house. If normal people were to look at it, it looked quite abandoned, even haunted some would say, and generally leave the house alone. To Nate however, the house seemed too abandoned—even animals seemed to leave it alone from the lack of any activity by them in the vicinity of the house. It seemed like the house didn’t welcome any unwelcome visitors despite its dilapidated façade.
Nate followed as Cat parked her bike on the side of the cabin, hidden by a huge willow tree, before she stepped into the porch. Nate’s eyes scanned the cabin up close as he checked for any signs of cracks in the cabin’s cover of abandoned-ness. It was perfect, the way it was so uninviting to potential visitors, though Nate could see tiny cameras embedded on strategic places on the ceiling, hidden unless you tried really hard to find them. Not bad, Nate thought as, instead of using a key to open the door, Cat unhinged the doorbell’s cover, showing a green scanner pad, which she then pressed her thumb to. Various clicking noises were heard then as the door unlocked itself from the inside before Cat pushed the door open gently and stepped into the cabin. She held the door for Nate then and spoke, her tone neutral, before she flipped on the switch.
The cabin looked more spacious from the inside than it was outside. Nate observed, as he stepped inside and took a quick scan of the place, that it was tailored like that of the blonde’s apartment. Other than a winding staircase was located on the dead center of the place, it was almost completely bare, except for the various computers, metal boxes that were some sort of weapon or something, and other gadgets the blonde was so fond of having with her at all times, scattered around the open space—she even had a mini lab going on, Nate noted as he glanced at the set on what would have been a bar. She was a regular mad scientist, Nate mused to himself as he walked around the place, scanning various papers lying around out of curiosity. He, of course, didn’t touch anything, though the blonde didn’t really have to tell him. He had no desire to touch her stuff—he hadn’t even touched the canisters she gave ever since she had placed them on top of his kitchen table.
The blonde spoke then as Nate continued to walk around the room, informing the young werewolf the location of a bed and a bath upstairs while food was located on the kitchen (where else would it be?) though she gave a small warning regarding the food’s expiration date. Twenty-four hours, Nate thought as the blonde finished her speech. Yes, that wouldn’t be a lot of time—if his company were anyone, but the blonde. Time seemed to move chaotically whenever the blonde was around. It went as slow as a snail at times, but then it would move at break neck speeds. It was very unlike a rollercoaster, as many would think it might be like. No, Nate thought, not a rollercoaster—more like a freaking hurricane.
“So,” Nate finally spoke as he peered into one of the boxes—silver bullets (oh great), “Would you mind telling me what the hell is happening or would you just like me to sit here obediently and guess?”
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Post by Catalin Holiday on Jun 22, 2012 23:04:08 GMT -5
Her eyes were focused on the screen from where she was perched on a wooden stool, legs crossed Indian styled. She absently reached over for a can of diet coke that sat unopened by a stack of papers and cracked it open, taking a sip from it while her eyes occasionally would glance up to watch what he was doing, making a mental note of what stacks of papers he was looking down at. When he looked back at her, her orbs had already darted back down to the screen she was looking at. She was practically hidden behind the many computers surrounding her. Still, the smirk couldn't help but fall on her face at his question and request, "Aren't you the investigator?" she said it with a hint of amusement and sarcasm in her British voice, "You don't have to sit and though it would be entertaining to listen to you guessing endlessly..." she took another swig of her diet coke, abandoning it where she'd found it and typing in a few things on the computer so the screens would go back to their surveillance modes. Standing, she stretched her limbs out a bit. They ached slightly from having been driving her bike but it should go away momentarily.
She took her time starting up the stairs, still not really answering his questions. As she walked, she took off her boots with the large heels and tossed them with ease over by the back door from the stair she was on. She was already starting on her pants when she disappeared to the upper floor only to come back down barely two minutes later wearing much more comfortable clothes. She had on her boxer briefs (yeah they were boy's underwear and she didn't care - they were way more comfortable) that clung to her and an over sized black tank top that hung off her like she was a hanger, "They're from this tribe in the Slavic parts of Europe," she started, stretching again as if trying to get a certain kink out of her back that just wouldn't budge.
Reaching what should be considered the living room, she walked as light as a feather through the stacks of papers, eyes looking around for the right pile, "They have some kind of ink that, when used for tattoos, it can actually bring the tattoo to life but on a much bigger scale," she found one with a white, smooth rock on it and she sat down in front of it, removing the rock and starting to go through the papers, "Their leader was hired by someone in Arc City who wants you dead because you know too much about everything," she knew he knew what she meant by everything. It wasn't like he was stupid, "so they give you a false assignment, promises of a nice paycheck, and when you hand over what the tribe wants, they get a fat royalty check for having you killed. You still have the black box?" she looked over at him, holding out her hand expectantly for him to give it to her.
Inside that box was something Catalin knew personally...at first,s he couldn't care less about it, though she wouldn't admit it was out of pride and because he was in danger he wasn't even aware of. She knew the tribe and knew them personally. They had no business in the Americas though by the looks of it, they'd been recruiting. They usually just fought among themselves and taught others how to fight - to defend. America wasn't their playground. Europe was. But what was inside that box was that ink, the tools needed to give such a tattoo...and it was the last of it that was purified - and used for entrapment. The guy who had it? He must have wanted to trap the tribe, bind them somehow to keep them from whatever it was they were doing. If they were smart - they wouldn't have communicated via cellphones and the internet. So easy to track people down like that. The guy who hired them? He was a genius. Not a trace of him.
"There's ink in there and the needle and mallet used to give the tattoo," they were old fashioned - they weren't exactly big on technology, "Here," she handed him about five pieces of papers all showing the process and documents stalking about the box scattered throughout the internet, "It's the last of it that's purified and it's used for specific entrapment spells," she seemed to hesitate suddenly, looking between him and the box as if unsure whether she should just say why it concerned her or not - other than him dying over something that he didn't deserve to die for, "You've got a reputation...so they think you know what that shit is used for and all about them. For once you don't," she frowned a bit before just saying why she'd even really done research on it in the first place, "Whatever is in the ink, it was used to make this," she grabbed the collar around her neck, "Or at least to make the writing for it that glows in that really annoying red light," she frowned a bit, the bullet at the end hitting her hollow collarbone.
She looked away from him and back down at the papers, continuing to rummage through them for whatever was important that he would need to know, setting a pile aside whenever she came across something. All the papers, the research, her technology obsession...it wasn't only for work. She was obviously dedicating her damn life to finding something in specific - and it had to do with getting that wretched collar off from around her neck. It grew with her, shrunk with her, no matter what she did to try to get it off it simply wouldn't. At one point, she tried using a small torch and the damn thing shocked her! She wanted to know who put it on her and why because she knew, deep down, it had to do with her being a demon. Of course she was a demon - her father was one so wouldn't she be one? She didn't think her demon self could be so horrible it needed to be controlled by a collar like she was a, pardon the pun, dog.
Cat shifted into felines. She didn't shift into big and scary monsters hell bent on taking over the world.
But she stood abruptly, again in that quiet fashion of hers, handing him the stack she'd created without really looking at him so he could read or whatever to catch up on what she knew regarding his supposed case. She headed over to the kitchen, opening the fridge and bending over to reach in the far back for some milk. The kitchen floor felt cold under her tiny bare feet and as she closed the fridge, she checked the date on the gallon before pouring some into a cup and sticking it in the microwave for a bit to warm it up. Warm milk always made a kitty feel better and thoughts of her stupid collar always got her upset. Unless he wanted to deal with a very angry kitty, he better not judge.
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Post by Nathaniel Devlin on Jun 29, 2012 1:50:37 GMT -5
The blonde spoke, her tone amused and sarcastic as she questioned his competence in his job. Nate wanted to roll his eyes. The blonde continued to talk as she took a swig of her diet coke—Really? Diet?—before she got up and stretched. She walked away from him and, rather than answer his question, she started to climb the staircase while she undressed herself. Nate was glad she had disappeared from view before she had the chance to remove her pants. At least, Nate would only allow himself to be glad. Disappointment was pushed as far back as possible.
As soon as the blonde disappeared from view, Nate set to work as he scanned the whole expanse of space. He could see various computers and cameras situated strategically so there were no blind angles, that is, it should have had no blind angles. The boxes effectively blocked some. Nate set to work quickly as he walked casually along the computers, peering into them while, very subtly put little bugs of his own around the place, out the prying eyes of the cameras. These bugs were had been a gift he had been given by a friend. An expert in his field, the man had been confident that, though Nate had been dealing with a world-class hacker, these things would escape her eyes. The man had a gift with these kinds of things, Nate thought as he placed the last of his bugs in the place before he sat on a crate and waited for the blonde to show up, all the while still pretending to read various papers that she had left around. Nate had sought the man’s help countless of times and had eventually become good friends with him. The man was a genius Nate had to admit. The whole thing lasted only a couple of minutes before the blonde came back downstairs dressed in what could only be describe as weird. She was wearing what looked like boxer briefs and a large tank top. Still, Nate had somehow gotten better with how indecent the blonde usually was. After all, she had bugged his apartment and would have seen the young werewolf indecent a couple of times. Nate didn’t mind anymore. After all, he had seen her as well.
She began to speak again as she reached the bottom of the stairs. Instead of heading back to her laptop, she went into what would have been considered the living room. She scanned the stacks of paper there before sitting down and sifting through what looked like the right pile as she continued to speak. Nate followed her to the various stacks of paper and stood over her as she spoke. She reached her hand to him then, her hand upturned as she expected him to give her the black box. Right, like he’d give it to her so willingly. No, Nate thought, he’d hold on to it for a while longer. The blonde seemed to brush off the rejection as she continued to speak, talking about the contents of the box and what it did as she handed him a few pieces of paper.
Nate glanced at the papers and scanned them as Catlin continued to speak, as she explained why she was so interested in the contents of the little black box. Apparently it had something to do with her white collar. She stood suddenly then, handing the young werewolf another stack of paper before she strode passed him and headed for the kitchen. Nate followed as she took some milk out of the fridge and poured it into a cup wherein she stuck it in the microwave to warm it. Really, Cat’s name really was fitting for her.
“That’s a nice little story you have there,” Nate spoke as he placed the stack of papers down the kitchen counter, “But you still haven’t answered my question. Not really, anyway.” He paused as he opened the fridge and reached for a can of diet coke—there was nothing else inside—and opened it.
“You’re not telling me the whole story, Cat.” Nate said as he took a sip. He knew, the way the feeling in his chest acted up. She was hiding something from what she had told him. As long as that feeling was there, there was no damn way he’d trust Cat.
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Post by Catalin Holiday on Jun 29, 2012 9:39:13 GMT -5
She arched an eyebrow at his reply that she wasn't telling him everything. No, she wasn't telling him everything and she didn't understand why she needed to. It was just personal information that had nothing to do with him; information she didn't like sharing. She was perched on a stool, cup on the counter as she took a tiny sip and then rolled her eyes at him. He could really be persistent...and annoying, "One of them - an ex...member? - she was my mentor in Russia when I was younger," that was more than enough detail right there, wasn't it? She was sure she didn't have to spill her guts on the table, "and somehow that's connected to my collar - which I want to take off desperately because it represses....something," she scrunched up her nose at the thought, "my demon side," she took in a deep breathe and took another sip of milk before continuing, "if I can find her or at least what the fuck is in the ink, I might be able to come up with something to get this shit off. I think fifteen years of wearing this is enough," she flicked the bullet at the end of the collar before returning her full attention to the milk, not wanting to further indulge him in her issues. He was involved because of his own actions - not her own. She told him why they were after him. They had no reason to be after her - she had done nothing wrong to them. Now, well, she was considered their enemy for help Nathaniel. She wasn't sure if her mentor was even still alive. Even if she was, she was no longer with that Slavic Tribe.
Catalin remained silent, a purr almost coming out of her as she sipped her milk but she refrained, making sure to suppress the urge and squash it down. The milk gladly calmed her down which she was thankful for, "Is that enough information for you, Mr. Devlin?" her tone was clipped, sarcastic, but she wasn't looking at him, preferring not to. She didn't know why she even told him-the back of her mind telling her it was because she trusted him. He technically saved her life, much to her dismay, but he'd also been on top of her while naked which, well, you can't go back from that. Plus,s he'd gotten back at him and seen him naked on tons of occasions via video cameras but she normally didn't go snooping into those. Though his nude form didn't make her blush - naked was naked - the very bad thoughts that ran through her head were what did and it was why she wasn't looking at him. Making eye contact, at the moment, was difficult.
The last time Cat had been with any man in any type of way, she'd been five years old and it had been against her will. After that, any sexual partners - or even thoughts of sexual acts - were done with women. She didn't trust men, for obvious reasons, so the fact she trusted Nathaniel was a big deal in her book even if the trust wasn't exactly monumental. It was...enough. Eventually, though, her eyes darted up to his, sometime between the silence feeling like it was going to swallow her whole and the noise of their voices, "I shot you....and clawed your face," it was entirely random but then again, she was still curious. Despite being thankful, grateful for his actions, she couldn't wrap her head around the why. People in Arc City weren't nice. Not one bit. She had come to realize that she'd been acting nice to certain others, like that coyote she had let into her apartment because he was young and obviously homeless. In the back of her mind, she thought if she was nice every now and again, karma wouldn't totally bite her in the ass. That and she naturally was a sweet person - she just didn't like thinking herself as so, "Why did you bother saving me?" her voice was quiet, the British accent thick. Looking up at him, her blue orbs looked large and round and for a few moments, she almost looked like a child or a little kitten with that puff of bed head white hair on her head and matching eyebrows.
One could say she was only bringing it up to get off the subject at hand, her collar, which made her a bit uncomfortable. It was obvious enough, now, why she was such a computer and technology freak. Trying to find a way to get the collar off had literally become her life's mission...It wasn't curiosity about what would happen after. Kohana had explained someone who cared about her must have put it on her to give her a normal life. Only one person would do that but where on earth would her Fallen Angel nanny get such ink to write the spell and such? Apparently it was pure...it would explain why it so easily hindered her demonic energy and inheritance. She'd done her research and she was supposed to be a sixth circle demon...not a human shifter. But she couldn't expose too much...not without exposing her father and as much as the two weren't on a first name basis sort of deal, she still felt compelled to protecting him even if he wouldn't protect her.
Which was why she was confused as to why Nathaniel would have bothered saving her in the first place. People didn't do anything without wanting something back nowadays. Hell, her father probably wouldn't have even saved her in that situation. She figured she would have been on her own - off to find her own cure only to probably end up six feet under. Was it guilt? Though she couldn't understand why he would feel guilty. Curiosity? Pity? She wanted to know if only to settle her own racing thoughts on the subject.
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Post by Nathaniel Devlin on Jul 3, 2012 8:05:14 GMT -5
Nate listened quietly as the blonde spoke, describing, in a little bit more detail, as to why she was so interested in the little black box. Still, as she gave a bit more information, even going as far as mentioning something about her past, Nate wasn’t satisfied at all. He didn’t really care about the whole collar scenario. Okay, he cared, he was curious, but that wasn’t what was bugging him now. No, what Nate wanted to know was why in the hell was he here. Cat was giving him a bullshit excuse as to why. Even without the young werewolf’s ability, he knew what she said was total bull. There were a number of ways to go about the scenario, a few of which left Nate dead if she had wanted to. No doubt, there were many more, though the young man knew the girl knew that—she was smart enough.
There were a few reasons Nate had in mind, but he pushed them as far back in his mind as he could. There were just some things he wouldn’t admit, even to himself nor would he ever admit, that is only if…No, there was no way those thoughts would ever get out. Nate had learned since the day he was born that no one was to be trusted; everyone had an agenda. Catlin was too; Nate just needed to find out what that was. When the blonde finished, Nate had wanted to retort, but something had stopped him. He didn’t know why really. It was just a feeling he got. Instinct maybe.
All he knew was they stayed silent for a few moments, the girl not looking at him and he not really looking at her. It was weird. He had a few ideas as to why that was, but again, that would open the thoughts that he currently had locked in the back of his mind. Frivolous, yet dangerous thoughts especially here in Arc City. Nothing said ‘easy target’ like acting on those thoughts. The blonde spoke then, breaking Nate’s thoughts, her words prompting him to face her.
For the first time in a long time, Nate showed an emotion that wasn’t intended—surprise. The question Catlin had asked, and the manner and tone she had used, were disarming to the young werewolf. Various thoughts came into his head, the things pushed at the back led free to roam around his head. For the first time in a long time, he really didn’t know what to say in this scenario. No, of course he did. He knew what he wanted to say. Well, he knew what he really wanted to say. What he wanted to say though was what he said.
“Guilt,” he said simply, the tone flat. Nate didn’t really believe the words as he said them. Of course, guilt played a small part, but then guilt would only get you so far. Nate had already felt it then during that first meeting. There was something between him and this girl. He would never admit it though, even to himself.
There was no way he would.
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Post by Catalin Holiday on Jul 3, 2012 8:28:50 GMT -5
Her eyes wavered on his face as if trying to pick apart the word he'd tossed so lazily at her, studying it's parts before putting it back together. Her full lips formed a grim line before she retorted without thinking much of it, "Well, in case you were wondering why I saved you," her tones was a bit more venomous, not as coy as it had been moments before. It was obvious she didn't believe what he tossed at her in such a flat tone, "you could say guilt was part of it, but it was because I like you. You and your entire asshole persona," she looked straight at him, blue orbs unwavering before she stood, putting her cup in the sink and leaving it there as she walked past him and straight to her throng of computers on the dining room table. Again, she was perched on one of the chairs, again typing away, and she seemed to forget he existed - or at least it would appear that way.
Her cheeks were tinged just the slightest of pink from her little confession but that was just how she was. If she liked someone, she would tell them. It was probably too blunt of a statement but it was the truth. Cats didn't hide their affections toward someone and she was every little bit as her namesake. It wasn't like she could control those sides of herself. The collar was magical but it wasn't a miracle worker. To say she was upset over him not telling her why was the understatement of the year. She'd given him too much information and it was obvious she was regretting the decision to opening up to him the way she had, even if it had only been a little bit. It was still more than anyone else outside of her immediate family. She didn't randomly save people for the hell of it. She thought that was something very well known about her. She'd rather chop your head clean off your shoulders than to let you stay in her home. Her home. She was big on privacy and if he wanted to piss her off - he was doing a good job of it.
Absently, she checked the cameras around her apartment, making sure nothing crazy was going on there and then checked Nate's - now out of habit. Then she was doing work for another client, doing some CEO's private profile. She didn't want to look at him, that stupid werewolf. Why did she have to like him? It didn't make any sense. She never liked anyone - at least not in that context and he could take it in whatever context he wanted, at this point she didn't care. But as she was typing away, her other laptop with all the videos of the cameras made a loud ping sound over and over and her anger toward Nate slowly disintegrating as she looked over at it, "Fuck," she mumbled under her breathe as a figure appeared in front of her door. It wasn't anyone she knew so she quickly typed in a code with way too many one's and zero's for anyone to care to memorize the way she did and when the guy touched her handle, looking ready to break in, he got a shock that easily knocked him back with a good thump into the wall on the opposite end of the narrow hallway. She smirked, pride swelling in her chest at her obvious amusement over him being knocked back and how he suddenly scurried away. Damn straight better stay away from her place...
Apparently, unless you were about to be killed could you come in. Or if you were a homeless, starving coyote...but that was a different story for a different day. If Nate wanted guilt, she'd give him something to feel guilty about: meeting her.
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Post by Nathaniel Devlin on Jul 3, 2012 8:54:02 GMT -5
Nate knew he was screwed the moment the blonde looked at him—she didn’t believe. He wanted to look away from her eyes, the guilt of his lie reflected on them. He felt embarrassed and annoyed with himself. There was no way this was going to get any worse.
He was wrong.
The blonde began to speak then, and, as she spoke, Nate’s eyes grew wide in surprise. Catlin stood then and walked passed him, placing the empty cup in the sink before she left him in the kitchen, taking her seat once again in front of the laptops. Nate didn’t know what to say. The words were still ringing in his ears. The girl had balls—bigger balls than Nate had apparently. She had told him, what he had really wanted to say. That wasn’t what had gotten Nate dumbfounded though.
His ability didn’t react.
Everything she had said had been true. No matter how hard Nate ran those moments in his head, there was no indication of her lying to him. He had hoped she had and yet…a small smile crept up from Nate’s lips as he watched the girl type away at her computer. He could clearly see what she was doing, though her scent was what interested him at the moment. She was embarrassed and she smelled distracted. He felt like an idiot smiling like that. Good thing Cat had her back to him, otherwise that would embarrass him all the more. He heard her curse then as some figure approach the house, though she easily dealt with the problem. Nate didn’t care about that though. Nothing could distract him at the moment. The thoughts that had roamed around freely in his brain before were now turning into action as he approached the blonde. He stopped in front of her and looked at her, his eyes demanding hers before he shut the laptop in front of her closed with a bit of force.
He then leaned in and kissed her. It wasn’t gentle.
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Post by Catalin Holiday on Jul 3, 2012 17:13:45 GMT -5
She had forced herself to become more interested in what was happening on the screen to the point of being fully distracted so at first, she didn’t feel his eyes on her, had completely ignored his reaction to her little confession. But when she did feel his eyes on her, her blue orbs darted up, confusion suddenly on her face at her laptop being shut and him being in front of her. When did he cross the room and why hadn’t she noticed? But before she could open her mouth in protest to him shutting off her laptop without her consent, his lips were crashing on to hers. She was stunned for a fraction of a second before her instincts kicked in and she found herself displaying the same form of hunger as if some kind of dam had been broken and everything was now spilling out onto the canvas. Was this really happening? It was really happening…and fast.
It didn’t take long for her body to take over. Maybe now wasn’t the best time to say she’d never been with a guy before…other than when she was five but that was fifteen years ago. She didn’t hold back, didn’t show any kinds of hesitation in her movements, her hands going into his hair to keep him close. She only paused once, to take her own clothes off and his own and before she could even blink, they were upstairs, on the bed, and there was no turning back.
The daylight was muted by the thick spray on the round window on the upstairs floor. For once, she hadn’t turned into her little cat form, remaining in her human form for the whole night obvious reasons. She slept from exhaustion, from making heads roll and blood spill on the pavement, from the drive over here, and then from the various activities that had happened over the last couple of hours. Twice was it? Yeah, twice. She could hear his heart beating loud in her left ear, the reason why she woke up in the first place. She wasn’t used to this and she was suddenly all too aware of her naked form wrapped around his naked form like a vine. She made sure to stay relaxed, though her collar was digging uncomfortably into her neck. Whatever, she’d live. She felt his arm lethargically draped around her thin torso, hand resting on her hip who’s bone stuck out against her concave stomach. Her one leg was wrapped around his and her arm around his waist as if snuggling up against him would somehow make this situation any better than it already was.
Okay, so she admitted she liked him. That didn’t mean, necessarily, that he liked her back though she didn’t entirely see the point in him kissing her then, or touching her….or biting or licking or…you get the idea. But what if this was just a one-time thing? She did it with females all the time. One night stand, kick them out in the morning before they had time to snoop around her apartment or leave before they woke up. He couldn’t really go anywhere, though…he wouldn’t know where they were, out in the middle of the woods. She’d made sure of it whether he wanted to ever come back out here or not. She made a mental note to give him directions from his apartment to here – should anything else come up and he needed a safe place to lay low for a while. Moving her head slightly, she nuzzled his chest a bit, bright blue orbs wavering on the picture of herself over on the night stand, all happy – no collar – in a pink dress with her nanny at some carnival in London. Feeling a smile tug on her lips, she would be sure her nanny would be proud of her. Maybe not for sleeping with the first guy she gave two shits about but because she actually trusted someone other than herself. Essentially, she was giving humanity a chance…sort of. More like she was only giving Nathaniel a chance if she wanted to be realistic. Cat was comfortable, though, so she closed her eyes gently and relaxed – for the first time in fifteen years.
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Post by Nathaniel Devlin on Jul 4, 2012 8:05:00 GMT -5
As soon as Nate’s lips touched Catlin’s, everything came at a rush. Before he knew it, they had gone upstairs, their clothes left on the floor as they climb into bed. The rest of the night had come at a blur for Nate. All he knew was that, after everything was said and done, he had a few scratch marks on his back, though those had faded as soon as she made them—oh, and at some point in the night he had sworn he heard himself growl.
Nate awoke from his dreamless sleep from the sound of the blonde’s purring. The sun was up already, though the ‘dust’ on the window dulled its rays. Nate stayed perfectly still and relaxed as he recalled the events of last night. He was clearly naked, along with the blonde, their bodies entwined with one another. Her rhythmic breathing felt nice against the young werewolf’s skin as he replayed the events of last night. In a nutshell, the whole night was…rough. Who knew the little blonde had it in her? Nate had to admit he was surprised at how the blonde could keep up with him—well, more so than the others he had slept with. Werewolves were known for their endurance and Nate wasn’t lacking in that department though after round two, it was obvious the blonde was tired. Still, there was something else with that night though Nate didn’t know what it was.
The young werewolf lay still for a few more moments before he moved, with such gentleness that when he finally got out of Catlin’s grip, the blonde was still purring fast asleep. The young werewolf walked into the bathroom and washed his face on the sink after which he dried his face on a towel and headed back to the bedroom. He watched the young blonde still sleeping on the bed, a smile creeping on the young werewolf’s face, before he picked up his boxers and put them on.
There were a lot of things that had to be thought about, while a lot more others had to be done, though that wasn’t Nate’s priority as he headed downstairs, his footfalls making no noise on the stairs, a wide smile still plastered on his face. For now, Nate was starving and, by the time Cat had woken up, she’d be too. He was a competent cook and was confident enough that he could whip something up with whatever the blonde had in her fridge.
Everything else could wait.
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Post by Catalin Holiday on Jul 4, 2012 11:38:20 GMT -5
She had the bad habit of purring in her sleep. It was a feline thing, really, and she had been thoroughly exhausted from last night's activities. She didn't have...sex. Well, not with men anyway and it didn't take long to get the females she did snag to end up thoroughly exhausted like she felt now. When you knew the female anatomy enough, it was easy to know what to do, just the right spots, to have them spilling over in a delicious reverie. She knew werewolves were known for their endurance and maybe if she'd eaten something - or actually slept two nights ago and hadn't been kicking people's asses - she could have gone for a couple more rounds. Deep down, her bones wanted her to.
Cat felt him shift and move beneath her but she didn't move, the covers kicked so they were partially on the bed and partially on the floor. When his back was turned to her, she took a tiny peek, only one eyes opening a crack to watch his naked behind before it disappeared into the bathroom. Once she heard the sink turning on, she let her eye fall shut and sleep slightly over taking her again. Her muscles felt cramped but she was comfortable and didn't want to move quite yet. She was sure she'd have bruises. Unlike Nate, she didn't have some rapid healing ability. She remembered having it when she was younger but the collar prevented it from functioning - suppressed it. She gently continued purring, though her ears and nose twitched slightly when she didn't smell him immediately in the bedroom. He probably went downstairs. The bedroom smelled like sex, cat, and dog. Normally, she'd be trying to get an air freshener or something to air it out but instead, she let herself enjoy the strange scent - one she wasn't used to at all.
Eventually, it was the smell of food that woke her up. She didn't dream of anything, she hadn't for a few years now and it was a good thing. When she used to dream it was only nightmares and she'd usually end up waking up in a cold sweat. Memories usually played across her but she learned to just let the past go. Thankfully. Letting out a tiny yawn that sounded more like a meow, she stretched her limbs on the bed, again in feline fashion before she crawled off and headed over to the bathroom. Reaching it, still a bit sleepy, she rubbed her neck, the collar making it feel surprisingly sore today. She had made sure he wouldn't touch her there - out of habit. As much as she trusted Nate, her neck was still a hard limit for her - a no-go zone and it didn't only apply to him, it applied to everyone. She didn't exactly like being shocked - especially when Kohana had touched her collar. That hadn't been a pleasant feeling.
Looking in the mirror after she brushed her teeth, she noticed the bruises blossoming on her hips, the slightly nipped areas of her chest and shoulders. Well, that was interesting; very nice reminders. Absetly, she made sure none of her nipple piercings ended up getting ripped out. Knowing her she wouldn't have noticed. Thankfully, the thin silver piercings were still in place - if anything a bit swollen from being played with. Washing her face, she walked over to the dresser and grabbed a fresh pair of boxer briefs, slipping them on with a slight wince. She felt like a virgin...but they were good aches. Could someone become a virgin again if they hadn't done it in fifteen years? She pushed the thought out of her mind. It wasn't important and if she had, she was sure he probably hadn't noticed in their...haste.
Obliviously and still rubbing one eye, she grabbed his shirt off the floor thinking it was her own and slipped it on as she started down the stairs, her nose guiding her to the kitchen, "Good morning, dog," she yawn/meowed again as she came up behind him, glancing over his shoulder on the tips of her toes to see what he was doing. She didn't say it in an insulting way - if anything she was just teasing him and she was still half asleep. She normally didn't sleep this much - it was a miracle, "It smells good," she bit his neck before going over to the fridge to get a glass of milk to heat up. Mmmm milk and Nathaniel topless - and cooking! Best morning ever.
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