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+--- Thread: The Wolf in the Sheep's Pen(open) (/showthread.php?tid=3276)
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The Wolf in the Sheep's Pen(open) - heyyew - 07-15-2018
There was a young woman in a cafe sipping away casually at her drink. Her hair was raven black, skin pale, and her make up well done. She looked like she might be waiting for a business associate with the get up she had, a fancy white blouse with sharp black slacks. But truth was, the woman just liked dressing like this. Sipping so casually on her italian soda that she was, one might not realize that she had come from another world entirely.
But she enjoyed the little luxuries this world offered. Her past life hadn’t had nearly anything this tasty. Believe it or not, the blood of your enemies apparently wasn’t the best beverage available.
The woman’s name was Calibe in this world, but she always insisted that her friends call her by what she’d always consider her real name to be- Capone.
Re: The Wolf in the Sheep's Pen(open) - MARKO ! - 07-15-2018
[align=center][div style="width: 45%; text-align: justify; font-size: 11pt; letter-spacing: -1px; font-family: verdana;"]♦ — marko prided himself in knowing everyone there was to know in san creado. he was friendly, talkative, and could drive practically the whole town in an hour on his motorcycle. he was prideful about a lot of other things, too, such as his biker gear allowing him to stay out in daylight for a relatively long amount of time before it started to get absolutely unbearable. of course, it eventually became too much to handle, the heat of the summer sun combined with his layers of clothing not being much help to the growing pain on every piece of exposed skin (his midriff, neck, and fingertips), and he had to go inside eventually. pride over not needing to sleep nearly as often as humans was there, too.
still, he did have to go inside, and where he happened to park his motorcycle happened to be a campy little cafe near the edges of town, where tourists might stop by for lunch while they do tourist-y things around the tourist-y part of the half-destroyed town. not that there were many people visiting, anyways; they usually showed up around october, so he felt no need to hide, anyways. at least, he didn't have to hide his all-too-long fangs. he really did wish they were shorter, seeing as he managed to cut his lip open with them at least twice a week.
marko stepped into the cafe quickly, not daring to take his helmet off yet. with his patch-covered jacket, it wasn't like anyone wouldn't know who he was, anyways. no, instead he scanned the place for a booth with minimal sun, and discovered a face he didn't quite recognize. that was rather interesting, seeing as the woman didn't exactly look like she was a tourist there to stay the night and get "frightened by the ghosts" or something. no, she looked almost comfortable, and that was why he was intrigued.
so he sat down at her booth, closed the curtain, and took off his helmet. it revealed a sunburnt face despite the helmet's visor supposedly keeping him safe from the sun's harm, though his eyes twinkled with his usual excitement regardless. "haven't seen you 'round before," he said, a chuckle spilling out of his mouth. it really was an interesting situation for him; it was rare to bring newcomers into his little town. "the name's marko, i run things around here. you're...?" he held his hand out for a handshake, expecting for her to answer him.
he laughed a little more, realizing how silly he must've sounded. he was turned before growing out of some rather childish features, and having someone who looked 17 tell you that they were the boss of sorts must be rather ridiculous. no matter, he loved those kinds of misconceptions, and figured that they would only ever aid him in life. getting underestimated was always better than getting overestimated, especially in terms of fights.
oh, and he'd have to disagree with the woman's taste in beverages; the blood of one's foes was often the sweetest type of drink. he'd rank it right after blood mixed with soda.
//this got longer than i intended anyways welcome!! hope this post is along the lines of what u were expecting oml
Re: The Wolf in the Sheep's Pen(open) - heyyew - 07-16-2018
“Calibe.” Said the woman, stirring her straw around to listen to the little clinks that the ice cubes made. It was rather bold of him to simply sit down at a stranger’s table. Most towns she’d been in didn’t have people so audacious. Which was why she hadn’t stayed in them. One could only entertain oneself so long with idle distractions. Eventually you required some level of interaction.
Now Capone of course noted the boy’s age, but didn’t think much of it. She herself had been rather young when she’d taken charge. But that was because she’d… Well… Taken it. She took his hand firmly, giving his arm a few solid shakes.
A handshake could tell a lot about a person. But what Capone was most interested in right now was trying to check if he had any blades strapped onto his arm under that thick biker gear of his. She could think of twenty places at least to hide weapons in that garb.
Odds were if they were strapped on properly they wouldn’t make any noise in the first place with the shake but… Worth checking. The raven haired woman liked to know what kind of person she was dealing with.
“You’re rather oddly dressed for a cafe owner.” Capone stated, misinterpreting entirely what he meant when he had said that he ran things around here.
Re: The Wolf in the Sheep's Pen(open) - MARKO ! - 07-16-2018
[align=center][div style="width: 45%; text-align: justify; font-size: 11pt; letter-spacing: -1px; font-family: verdana;"]♦ — something marko didn't let many people know would be that his memory was exceptionally poor. not "can't even remember what he had for breakfast" poor, but bad enough that he had to put a lot of effort into remembering things. including other people's names, for example, so when the woman told him her name, marko mumbled it under his breath a few times to get it to stick. it wasn't his proudest habit, but it was necessary at times.
luckily, calibe's worries of weaponry weren't exactly true. all he had on him that could be considered weaponry would be a switchblade and a key. well, and his fangs, but did those count if he couldn't exactly get rid of them? not like it mattered in the slightest; marko knew how to be diplomatic when he needed to be, although his comfort zone was moreso in terms of partying and riding his motorcycle as fast as he could get it to go.
all of that was besides the point, though, because any thoughts of keeping his brain in check disappeared upon her next statement.
marko retracted his hand and cupped his mouth with it, trying to hold back laughter. he didn't laugh like normal people, his quiet laughter being about equivalent to other people's reactions to the funniest of jokes. he pulled his knees up to his chest and settled his forehead on them, still attempting to stifle himself.
"i'm not, calibe," he replied after getting himself under control, subdued to just a chuckle and grin. "been 'round creado for some-odd 15 years, maybe? been through a fuckin' tsunami. the place bein' destroyed." okay, it was a bit of a lie saying he managed to subdue himself. "'here' is referring to the town, baby." he moved his hand to his cheek, feeling a bit more conniving than before. maybe he just didn't get many opportunities to be a bit of a jerk, and would take them as they came.
for reference, marko next settled his hand under his chin, then on the table when he realized his fingers were regaining feeling after a while in the sun, and that they were a bit raw and, uh, burnt. he supposed that was what one should expect, being a vampire and hanging out during the day while wearing fingerless gloves. it made perfect sense, in fact. "so, calibe, why're you checkin' in on my little town? here for the ghost stories?"
marko knew tourists well, and while she didn't look like it, he couldn't immediately rule out that she was just there for a scary, run down boardwalk.
Re: The Wolf in the Sheep's Pen(open) - heyyew - 07-16-2018
Capone as well was bad with names, but less abashed about it. It was her worldview that she didn’t have to learn everyone’s name either- because not everyone deserved the brain space. So far this kid was at least a little entertaining, but not enough so for her to go out of her way to remember his name. In fact, she’d already forgotten it.
She’d probably end up calling him Extra Crispy for that excessive sunburn of his.
The woman snorted at her own mistake, laughing at both her own misunderstanding and the boy’s dramatic way of trying to contain his own laughter. She was assuming now that he was fifteen, having been born in this town. Must have been an odd place to grow up if the rumors were true.
Not to be outdone, Capone went onto say, “It’d take a lot to scare me, I once actually lived in a haunted house.” That sounded like some cooky gimmick. But it wasn’t. That being said most ghosts didn’t actually want to harm you. They were just chilling and doing their own thing. But she’d done her fair share to make the place more haunted with spirits who did indeed wish ill will… And had taken unusual, yet effective, means of assuring it.
”I’m just taking in the sights.” Potentially looking for a new home since her last one had gone up in proverbial smoke. But she was going to keep that bit to herself. And in realizing that that sentence might appear to contradict what she had said earlier, she added. ”I don’t suppose this place has a library?”
She wasn’t hear to see just anything. Maybe she’d stop by the carnival for kicks. But her interests were primarily focused elsewhere.
Re: The Wolf in the Sheep's Pen(open) - alexander - 07-16-2018
[align=center][div style="text-align:justify;width:45%;font-family:verdana"]Alexander did not fare as well in the sun as Marko did, because they didn't layer on leather and other biker gear in the middle of July. The vampire was instead dressed in a tank-top and jean shorts, an umbrella held over their head to protect their skin. They usually preferred to stay inside during the day, but they weren't too keen on laying around the house on such a nice day, and it seemed that interesting things were happening around town.
They were heading toward the beach when they spotted Marko's motorcycle was parked outside of a cafe. What was their youngest doing at a cafe, of all places? This was one of the last places Alexander expected to find the Undertaker - it was too tame. Forgetting the beach, Alexander heads to the cafe, pushing the door open a little too hard just to hear the bell ring. They smile when they see Marko chatting with a stranger, red eyes brightening with the perfect chance for mischief presented for them.
"Marko!" They call, closing their umbrella, waving a hand in the man's direction. They slide in next to him in Capone's booth, flashing her a sharp-toothed smile before they're turning their attention back to their friend. ""Who's this? I didn't take you for a cafe date kind of guy." They chuckle, throwing an arm around his shoulders. They tap their chin, expression turning a little more serious when they turn to fully face Capone. "You're new around here, though. Maybe not a secret girlfriend, then, huh?" They pause, grinning. "Well then! I'm Alexander. Who are you?"
Re: The Wolf in the Sheep's Pen(open) - EZRA! - 07-16-2018
Re: The Wolf in the Sheep's Pen(open) - MARKO ! - 07-16-2018
[align=center][div style="width: 45%; text-align: justify; font-size: 11pt; letter-spacing: -1px; font-family: verdana;"]♦ — oh, so calibe wouldn't be scared. that was good. marko didn't really bat an eye at the whole haunted house thing; yeah, maybe it was ghosts, but a likelier answer was a bunch of asshole kids wreaking havoc. after all, he would've probably done that in his later teens if, uh, he hadn't met vampires first. that certainly affected his life in a significant manner, morphing teenage shenanigans into actual illegal actions.
no his fault, for reference. it was entirely rialto's. what was her question?
well, that didn't exactly matter, because before he even really had a chance to process what she was asking, alexander showed up in his usual fashion. and by that, he meant that he had no clue how the other vamp could go out wearing so little. oh, and also he was being characteristically annoying in a measure that marko would never be able to match. "you know she's not, alex," he said, rolling his eyes despite the grin on his face. his taste in girls was hot dudes, so it must've been pretty clear from the get-go. "her name's calibe, she's a lost..."
soul was gonna be his next word, to which he was gonna follow up with a funny joke, but then the town's resident fatherly figure showed up. okay, maybe that was a lie, ezra only put in the effort to act like a dad when he wasn't fawning over plants. what was he asking, why were they out so late? or, maybe, so early? "premier bikin' times, ezzie," marko responded, a laugh that never really left in the first place returning to his voice. "why're you out, man? aren't you too old for that?" after all, he'd heard older vamps were demolished by the sun so much faster than himself.
now, then, what exactly did calibe ask him? if there was a library around? "library's two blocks south, three east. next to the li'l mall we got," he said simply, trying to push alex off of him in as subtle of a way as possible.
Re: The Wolf in the Sheep's Pen(open) - CATHERYN - 07-16-2018
The café is sufficiently quiet at the start of the day, the kindly old forest nymph who owns it opens its doors at around five in the morning to welcome weary travelers and puts on a pot of coffee for the early risers. Catheryn had taken advantage of that by slinking in silently before the sun had risen and taking a seat near the back, happy with where she had chosen to spend the day. She normally returns home, or to one of the dilapidated Ferris wheel carriages, but today she had been in the neighborhood, and Catheryn had decided the café would be a nice place to be for a couple of hours, at least until late afternoon, when the watery rays of sunlight don't really hurt her too much.
Of course, her bubble of peace is broken when Marko's loud voice rings out from beyond the doors, and she looks up with a sigh, spotting him talking to an unidentifiable woman. Catheryn rolls her eyes, deciding to try her best to ignore everything that's going on outside and continue reading the book she had brought with her. This is, of course, impossible the moment Alexander appears out of nowhere, toting an ostentatious umbrella. Catheryn closes her book with a snap, straightening up irritably. It figures wherever she goes, those irritating children manage to find her.
There's a little shade just outside the glass doors of the building, where she'll be safe from the sun's rays (because even though she's still a rather young vampire, and the archaic traditions don't give her much trouble, Catheryn would much rather not get a skin rash, thank you very much) and that's where she stops, raising a single eyebrow at everyone's antics. Ezra is here, too, she must've missed him, but she rather likes that boy, at least his dedication to plants isn't as annoying as Rialto's Etsy adventures.
"Why is it that everywhere I go, you manage to find me and make a nuisance of yourselves?" Her words are directed at Marko and Alex, and though Catheryn wouldn't say she's relieved that Rialto hasn't made himself present yet, there's a certain serenity to her voice that's never there when she's talking to him. If one more person asks her where 'her brother' is she's going to snap their neck, no questions asked.
Of course, her bubble of peace is broken when Marko's loud voice rings out from beyond the doors, and she looks up with a sigh, spotting him talking to an unidentifiable woman. Catheryn rolls her eyes, deciding to try her best to ignore everything that's going on outside and continue reading the book she had brought with her. This is, of course, impossible the moment Alexander appears out of nowhere, toting an ostentatious umbrella. Catheryn closes her book with a snap, straightening up irritably. It figures wherever she goes, those irritating children manage to find her.
There's a little shade just outside the glass doors of the building, where she'll be safe from the sun's rays (because even though she's still a rather young vampire, and the archaic traditions don't give her much trouble, Catheryn would much rather not get a skin rash, thank you very much) and that's where she stops, raising a single eyebrow at everyone's antics. Ezra is here, too, she must've missed him, but she rather likes that boy, at least his dedication to plants isn't as annoying as Rialto's Etsy adventures.
"Why is it that everywhere I go, you manage to find me and make a nuisance of yourselves?" Her words are directed at Marko and Alex, and though Catheryn wouldn't say she's relieved that Rialto hasn't made himself present yet, there's a certain serenity to her voice that's never there when she's talking to him. If one more person asks her where 'her brother' is she's going to snap their neck, no questions asked.
Re: The Wolf in the Sheep's Pen(open) - Rialto - 07-17-2018
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Surprisingly, Rialto's dazzling creativity was not limited to the range of phone accessories (more shining examples: phone prosthetic legs, headphones - for the phone) he dedicated himself to crafting - it wouldn't be odd for him, like any artisan, to have invested his everything in these phone accessories, but there was a time phones hadn't been anything near commonplace. That is, before Rialto had started making umbrellas for phones, he'd made umbrellas for actual people. Equally fantastical in design and just about as (not) utilisable, because for the sake of art there were little holes everywhere and a long tail of streamers, on top of a hooded part at the front like the figurehead of a fanged, wrinkled monster. Just like Alex, but better.
And Catheryn, face-wise. Not exactly better, because they were the same, but did she have an umbrella? No.
Enough coverage to get him through walking under the sun? More than Ezra. (Poor guy. Needs more phone accessories to brighten up his day. Rialto'll throw them in for free.) Functional? Absolutely not, however it was his creative outlet; if he'd had a mother telling him what to do he may very well have listened, but he didn't, and so there Rialto was throwing open the cafe door right on time, lowering his umbrella only once he was inside. "Not on my watch," he declared at Alex's suggestion, widened eyes absolutely appalled. "Marko's a baby. I, however, work on commission. Hello."
Nothing wrong with swiftly robbing Cat's momentary freedom, as well as Marko's, and also Alex's, for three entirely different reasons. Peace, life, originality. Three birds with one stone. He dropped by Marko's other side, friendlily, and leaned in until Alex's hand bumped his shoulder and Rialto was securely lodging Marko in place, propping his own chin up with a hand and a lazy grin. Newcomers, always welcome. His umbrella, Rialto had gently deposited in Ezra's hand somewhere on the way. "What's this about the library?"
And Catheryn, face-wise. Not exactly better, because they were the same, but did she have an umbrella? No.
Enough coverage to get him through walking under the sun? More than Ezra. (Poor guy. Needs more phone accessories to brighten up his day. Rialto'll throw them in for free.) Functional? Absolutely not, however it was his creative outlet; if he'd had a mother telling him what to do he may very well have listened, but he didn't, and so there Rialto was throwing open the cafe door right on time, lowering his umbrella only once he was inside. "Not on my watch," he declared at Alex's suggestion, widened eyes absolutely appalled. "Marko's a baby. I, however, work on commission. Hello."
Nothing wrong with swiftly robbing Cat's momentary freedom, as well as Marko's, and also Alex's, for three entirely different reasons. Peace, life, originality. Three birds with one stone. He dropped by Marko's other side, friendlily, and leaned in until Alex's hand bumped his shoulder and Rialto was securely lodging Marko in place, propping his own chin up with a hand and a lazy grin. Newcomers, always welcome. His umbrella, Rialto had gently deposited in Ezra's hand somewhere on the way. "What's this about the library?"
© MADI
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