07-18-2018, 04:00 AM
[align=center][div style="width: 45%; text-align: justify; font-size: 11pt; letter-spacing: -1px; font-family: verdana;"]♦ — it was only barely dusk, but marko had too much pent up energy to wait for the sun to dip under the horizon. besides, the undertaker had plans, and he couldn’t just wait when he was likely going to come in contact with the sun again that evening. he found himself outside with minimal protection—that is to say, sometimes it was pretty damn freeing to go out for a late (er… early?) ride without a helmet. the warm summer night’s air just felt so… perfect. he absolutely adored it, frankly.
the first step was, of course, leaving the city’s boundaries. sure, he loved san creado, but it wasn’t exactly the entire world, and the rarely-traversed roads linking his town to the outside world let him go as fast as he wanted to with limited risk of getting lost. all he had for company would be the sounds of the motorcycle and the air rushing past. yeah, he was an extrovert for sure, but sometimes that was all you needed for fun.
that wasn’t what marko was planning on doing, however. no, it wasn’t what he was planning on doing at all. he didn’t just want the thrill of speed, he also wanted the adventure. therefore, the moment he left the city limits, the vampire veered off the road. it was a nice vantage point, the hilly environment lending to a nice view of even the boardwalk, the rollercoaster looking almost impressive from a distance. a view of the town wasn’t what he was looking for either, though. after all, it didn’t fill the category of “adventure” well. or fit it at all, for that matter.
he waited for a few moments, deciding which exact direction he’d traverse the oceanside hills, and then sped off. it was a lot more exhilarating, biking offroads, slopes leading to natural places for neat jumps and, in general, more fun.
in summary, the first half hour was pure excitement, driving around the immediate area with reckless disregard.
and then said disregard had him speeding along a (relatively short) cliff, a driftwood covered beach below. he was merely feet away from the edge, close enough that if he hit a fairly large rock, he might lose control and tumble down it, his bike following suit. which is exactly what happened, barely even realizing why he was falling until he bit the dust. er, sand.
who would’ve thought that a short cliff was actually close to two stories tall? marko certainly didn’t.
the saving grace was that he didn’t hear anything break, be it himself or his bike. still, he stumbled as he got up, looking about to see that the motorcycle was likely dented but still in one piece, and that a few patches from his jacket fell off. he knelt down on shaky legs and pocketed them, before he heard a distinctive rattling noise.
marko considered himself pretty good with animals. he’d befriended pretty much every pigeon in san creado, and could generally handle most creatures with care and even ease at times. the difference between that kind of situation and the one he was in, however, was that he usually didn’t fall off of cliffs and get injured in some capacity before having to deal with a rattlesnake. usually all he’d need to do would be to keep clear of the area the rattle came from and maintain a good distance, but he was so disoriented that he couldn’t even tell how close the snake was.
high ground. there wasn’t exactly much, but marko managed to scramble to what was there. still, he couldn’t see a thing, the sun sufficiently far enough under the horizon to destroy any chances of seeing, well, anything. weren’t vampires supposed to have ultra-senses, or something, anyways?
the undertaker only figured out where the snake was when it lunged at him, so marko screamed and kicked it, losing his balance in the sand and falling as he did so. the snake decided that fleeing was its best decision, but the moment marko got himself back upright he lunged at the snake and grabbed it, nearly wrestling with it until he heard the sound of a bone breaking. he threw it on the ground and stomped on it until it was definitely dead.
well, that was a way to change the mood of a night. he rolled the corpse under his foot for a moment, trying to decide what to do and how to figure out where he was especially hurt (aside from the moderate amount of pain he felt everywhere), before he decided that maybe he should just get back to town.
actually, nah. he was hungry, and blood was good for a young vamp like himself.
he stared up at the cliff in devastation. it really was way larger than he thought it was, much taller than a few feet.
gritting his teeth, marko found a foothold and scaled it with as much ease as an injured, disoriented kid could possibly have. it was much looser than he was used to, the dirt not holding itself half as well as the half-rotten wood of the roller coaster. still, he managed to pull himself up, breathing deeper than he was expecting he’d be.
god, he was in a lot of pain, wasn’t he? he stretched, approximately half of his body feeling like it was about to combust. at least he knew which side he landed on. he yawned, which hurt a lot and betrayed the concept that he didn’t break any bones. he’d have to see if anyone in town knew how to treat a broken rib.
okay, okay, food. that was his main priority, some live prey, something tastier than the (admittedly delicious) blood sodas they kept stocked up in town. something real, alive, one who would maybe put up a bit of a fight before they succumbed to his superior strength. lucky for marko, the road wasn’t too far away from the coast itself, and even luckier, he spotted a pulled-over car from the vantage point he’d pulled himself to.
oh, and the dude who must have owned the car was standing outside of it. marko almost considered it a shame, as he stalked forward he decided that the guy had a pretty nice physique. that did worry him, though, upon further thought. after all, marko wasn’t that big, and his ability to be stealthy was even weaker than usual with his injuries. still, he managed to stalk up to the opposite side of the car without being noticed, digging through a pocket to find his switchblade and ready himself for another, likely more difficult fight.
“hi,” he said, standing upright and sauntering up to the man. marko was smaller by far, but the worry started to leave him. he could handle dumb humans, after all. “what’re you doing on my road?” malice filled his voice, something unusual but all too enjoyable. being the bad guy was just… fun, sometimes.
the man didn’t reply, which marko decided he had to expect, but stood there petrified instead. probably because of the fangs.
a bit of a disappointing first impression, but marko would let it slide. he’d spent too much time oogling at the eye candy, anyways. he stepped forward and, in a surprisingly fluid motion, sunk his fangs into the man’s neck and his knife into his back. the man, of course, fought back, trying and failing to push marko away. they ended up on the ground, the man fighting and yelling at marko to just let him go, but… he was pretty tasty.
once the man was too weak to struggle, marko let go, feeling sufficiently full. a lazy grin was plastered on his face, and he patted the man’s shoulder. “you’re almost too pretty to kill, y’know,” marko said, perching himself on the dude’s stomach. “i’m considering calling an ambulance out here for you, get to see your beautiful face again.”
he wasn’t sure why he bothered flirting, seeing as the man seemed rather uninterested. marko stood, making sure he kept his boot from landing in the slowly growing puddle of blood, and began to walk in the direction of san creado. he could still see the lights of the small town, another stroke of good luck.
in the half hour it took to get to the city boundaries, marko realized some things. his jeans had managed to rip from under his (thankfully unscathed) chaps, his jacket suffered more damage than he initially thought, and his crop top had been ripped pretty heavily. figuring out what occurred when was beyond him, feeling more exhausted than ever before at only midnight, and he managed to stumble his way to the boardwalk before he collapsed in a thankfully unoccupied ferris wheel carriage.
then he realized he forgot something in his rush to get the hell outta dodge.
“shit.”
//u do NOT need to match this muse in a reply this took me all day to write. dont do that to urself. 1513 words babey.
the first step was, of course, leaving the city’s boundaries. sure, he loved san creado, but it wasn’t exactly the entire world, and the rarely-traversed roads linking his town to the outside world let him go as fast as he wanted to with limited risk of getting lost. all he had for company would be the sounds of the motorcycle and the air rushing past. yeah, he was an extrovert for sure, but sometimes that was all you needed for fun.
that wasn’t what marko was planning on doing, however. no, it wasn’t what he was planning on doing at all. he didn’t just want the thrill of speed, he also wanted the adventure. therefore, the moment he left the city limits, the vampire veered off the road. it was a nice vantage point, the hilly environment lending to a nice view of even the boardwalk, the rollercoaster looking almost impressive from a distance. a view of the town wasn’t what he was looking for either, though. after all, it didn’t fill the category of “adventure” well. or fit it at all, for that matter.
he waited for a few moments, deciding which exact direction he’d traverse the oceanside hills, and then sped off. it was a lot more exhilarating, biking offroads, slopes leading to natural places for neat jumps and, in general, more fun.
in summary, the first half hour was pure excitement, driving around the immediate area with reckless disregard.
and then said disregard had him speeding along a (relatively short) cliff, a driftwood covered beach below. he was merely feet away from the edge, close enough that if he hit a fairly large rock, he might lose control and tumble down it, his bike following suit. which is exactly what happened, barely even realizing why he was falling until he bit the dust. er, sand.
who would’ve thought that a short cliff was actually close to two stories tall? marko certainly didn’t.
the saving grace was that he didn’t hear anything break, be it himself or his bike. still, he stumbled as he got up, looking about to see that the motorcycle was likely dented but still in one piece, and that a few patches from his jacket fell off. he knelt down on shaky legs and pocketed them, before he heard a distinctive rattling noise.
marko considered himself pretty good with animals. he’d befriended pretty much every pigeon in san creado, and could generally handle most creatures with care and even ease at times. the difference between that kind of situation and the one he was in, however, was that he usually didn’t fall off of cliffs and get injured in some capacity before having to deal with a rattlesnake. usually all he’d need to do would be to keep clear of the area the rattle came from and maintain a good distance, but he was so disoriented that he couldn’t even tell how close the snake was.
high ground. there wasn’t exactly much, but marko managed to scramble to what was there. still, he couldn’t see a thing, the sun sufficiently far enough under the horizon to destroy any chances of seeing, well, anything. weren’t vampires supposed to have ultra-senses, or something, anyways?
the undertaker only figured out where the snake was when it lunged at him, so marko screamed and kicked it, losing his balance in the sand and falling as he did so. the snake decided that fleeing was its best decision, but the moment marko got himself back upright he lunged at the snake and grabbed it, nearly wrestling with it until he heard the sound of a bone breaking. he threw it on the ground and stomped on it until it was definitely dead.
well, that was a way to change the mood of a night. he rolled the corpse under his foot for a moment, trying to decide what to do and how to figure out where he was especially hurt (aside from the moderate amount of pain he felt everywhere), before he decided that maybe he should just get back to town.
actually, nah. he was hungry, and blood was good for a young vamp like himself.
he stared up at the cliff in devastation. it really was way larger than he thought it was, much taller than a few feet.
gritting his teeth, marko found a foothold and scaled it with as much ease as an injured, disoriented kid could possibly have. it was much looser than he was used to, the dirt not holding itself half as well as the half-rotten wood of the roller coaster. still, he managed to pull himself up, breathing deeper than he was expecting he’d be.
god, he was in a lot of pain, wasn’t he? he stretched, approximately half of his body feeling like it was about to combust. at least he knew which side he landed on. he yawned, which hurt a lot and betrayed the concept that he didn’t break any bones. he’d have to see if anyone in town knew how to treat a broken rib.
okay, okay, food. that was his main priority, some live prey, something tastier than the (admittedly delicious) blood sodas they kept stocked up in town. something real, alive, one who would maybe put up a bit of a fight before they succumbed to his superior strength. lucky for marko, the road wasn’t too far away from the coast itself, and even luckier, he spotted a pulled-over car from the vantage point he’d pulled himself to.
oh, and the dude who must have owned the car was standing outside of it. marko almost considered it a shame, as he stalked forward he decided that the guy had a pretty nice physique. that did worry him, though, upon further thought. after all, marko wasn’t that big, and his ability to be stealthy was even weaker than usual with his injuries. still, he managed to stalk up to the opposite side of the car without being noticed, digging through a pocket to find his switchblade and ready himself for another, likely more difficult fight.
“hi,” he said, standing upright and sauntering up to the man. marko was smaller by far, but the worry started to leave him. he could handle dumb humans, after all. “what’re you doing on my road?” malice filled his voice, something unusual but all too enjoyable. being the bad guy was just… fun, sometimes.
the man didn’t reply, which marko decided he had to expect, but stood there petrified instead. probably because of the fangs.
a bit of a disappointing first impression, but marko would let it slide. he’d spent too much time oogling at the eye candy, anyways. he stepped forward and, in a surprisingly fluid motion, sunk his fangs into the man’s neck and his knife into his back. the man, of course, fought back, trying and failing to push marko away. they ended up on the ground, the man fighting and yelling at marko to just let him go, but… he was pretty tasty.
once the man was too weak to struggle, marko let go, feeling sufficiently full. a lazy grin was plastered on his face, and he patted the man’s shoulder. “you’re almost too pretty to kill, y’know,” marko said, perching himself on the dude’s stomach. “i’m considering calling an ambulance out here for you, get to see your beautiful face again.”
he wasn’t sure why he bothered flirting, seeing as the man seemed rather uninterested. marko stood, making sure he kept his boot from landing in the slowly growing puddle of blood, and began to walk in the direction of san creado. he could still see the lights of the small town, another stroke of good luck.
in the half hour it took to get to the city boundaries, marko realized some things. his jeans had managed to rip from under his (thankfully unscathed) chaps, his jacket suffered more damage than he initially thought, and his crop top had been ripped pretty heavily. figuring out what occurred when was beyond him, feeling more exhausted than ever before at only midnight, and he managed to stumble his way to the boardwalk before he collapsed in a thankfully unoccupied ferris wheel carriage.
then he realized he forgot something in his rush to get the hell outta dodge.
“shit.”
//u do NOT need to match this muse in a reply this took me all day to write. dont do that to urself. 1513 words babey.
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[color=lightcoral]♦ ♦ ♦ DON'T YOU LOSE MY NUMBER