And What Are You? [For xEmmalia-Chan]

[Bye_bye_birdie45]

Lyla Darrow
The full moon was only in a few more hours – less than twelve – and Lyla had known that for a week now. She kept very good track of it, as any good werewolf, but that didn't mean she could not absolutely feel it in her bones when she woke up this morning. She had all of this unnecessary energy, and it was all aggressive.

If there was one thing Lyla hated about herself, it wasn't the strength; it wasn't the fact that she could sense and smell things others couldn't; it wasn't even the fact that she was a werewolf, really: it was all the aggression that her transformation gave her, right before it happened.

The "hurting and maiming anyone in her sight" during the full moon also was awful, but Lyla usually didn't remember any of that until afterwards. She tried to make up for it when she was normal by being nice and helping others and being as good of a person as possible, but sometimes, life wasn't so forgiving about that.


~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ Squiggly lines ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~


Puck Tyron
"I'm up, I'm UP, Jesus Christ..." Puck groaned towards her alarm clock, which was blasting its annoying beep beep beep and it was too early for any of this. What in the hell made her think having an 8AM was a good idea? Especially after staying up late last night, doing... shit, she could barely remember: after the third beer, everything was just kind of a blur.

She knew for a fact, though, that she didn't sleep with anyone: apparently, she was more aggressive than usual as a drunk, and that kept almost everyone away. Good.

Slinking into her shared-apartment's kitchen, she shoved some bread into the toaster and made a mental note to shower after she came back from class – the perks of having a three hour period of nothing between classes, and the apartment being two blocks from campus. She grabbed some hot sauce and doused the toast under it, before taking her food back into her room; surely she could eat toast with one hand and shift through her closet for clothes with the other.

And besides, if she wore something for one class, showered and put on deodorant before her next class, nobody would be any of the wiser. Not that anyone cared; as long as she showed up, her community college professors didn't give much of a rat's ass.

[EmmaliaChan]

Elise Navida
The nerdy - er, 'studious' - girl had woken early, as always, and was just getting back from her 6AM class when she just managed to spot her somewhat elusive roommate in her natural habitat, eating toast (probably doused with hotsauce) on the way to her room, probably having just woken up judging by the girl's typical habits. Puck wasn't much of a morning person, really.

Despite this, though, the two were good friends. She loved Puck; she was a bit like the sister she never had, albeit a bit like the rugged brute of an older sister that would've scared off everyone on the playground when she was in grade school. Thankfully they hadn't met until high school, but they'd been close friends ever since.

Happily studying with a major in geomorphology, the dark-haired, dark-eyed student was enjoying her time spent in college. She was learning about things she loved, to go into a field she loved! Elise found the changes of Earth over time to be fascinating, and she was excited to have the equipment and the know-how to study it firsthand - best of all, she'd be getting paid for it, if she got into the scientific field she was aiming for. She just hoped her degree wouldn't end up being useless, as that certainly seemed to be happening more and more frequently in fields outside of technology, or so society kept saying. The determined student would find out for herself soon enough, though, she supposed.

There were a good four hours before her next class, which meant she had some work to do. Knowing she couldn't find a stable traditional job inside of her hectic schedule, she'd taken to making money through the wonders of the internet, writing freelance articles for blogs, news pages, and other publications about various things. People were always looking for insight by people just like them - that was the reason why rate-and-review websites were so popular. So, if she learned something, she'd share it, and if she hadn't come up with any new information she'd just talk about her experiences in college. As long as she didn't give any direct names, no one could have a problem with it, so it was a great way to make cash with relatively little effort - it was always a nice surprise when her articles got her a little bonus for being exceptionally popular, too, although that happened incredibly rarely.


--------------------


Lance Joselin
Waiting for night to fall on feeding day was always a slow, painful process. Lance desperately needed a recharge, and his temper was flaring as a result. Generally a calm and patient man, a lack of blood for an extended period of time (especially given the current state of rationings for the vampire population) changed him into the monster fiction made him out to be, and the morning of feeding day was the absolute extent of that length, the ration specifically designed to make him - and all other vampires - wait as long as physically possible to feed.

Unfortunately, because of the damn werewolves creeping in on their turf, his kind had no choice but to do this, otherwise the city would start investigating the missing bodies more closely. They went out of their way not to drain living bodies, instead waiting until after they were dead, and yet even despite going out of their way to do this, they still had to worry about the law. Sure, maybe they could come out of hiding and admit to the world what they were, but you always get that damn group of radicals that insists they're bloodthirsty monsters out to kill everyone, when they'd existed together peacefully for centuries without too muchin the way of problems.

The world had changed so much since he was reborn. Back in the day, no one would've questioned it. No one would've even noticed.

But now they had to go uphill both ways to feed.

He did miss the chase, though. When he first turned, he couldn't help it, hating himself for what he'd become and yet so craving fresh blood seasoned with the rich taste of fear-driven adrenaline that he'd happily drain a human dry. It took him a long time to be able to adjust to, ahem, 'donated' blood. He'd at first tried animal blood, but his body rejected it entirely and he ended up sick for days. But after a long time, and lots of practice, the once noble man learned to suppress his desire for the delicious red life force that coursed through the veins of everyone but himself.

More than anything, though, he hated that the urge had begun to return. The extreme lack of blood, the self-imposed restrictions on when feeding days were allowed, the horrible moods and the poor treatment his subjects were receiving as a result of them... Like an alcoholic, it was enabling his previous addiction to that particular sweet taste. Partially-soiled blood tainted by decay just didn't do it for him like the fresh sort did. Lance was losing control, and quite rapidly so.









[[OoC;]] The post was good! I hope you don't mind I developed the girl's backstory a bit -- you didn't really touch on it at all, or Puck's overall personality, so since they're supposed to know each other and be good friends, I tried to fill in the blanks as much as I could with what you gave me so far without making assumptions. If anything's wrong, though, just let me know and I'll change it right away! I also didn't really know what to do with Elise, so I just threw her somewhere where she'd be busy for a while, haha~

Also sorry sorry sorry for taking so long, got unexpectedly busy and then had a heck of a time finding a pic I liked for Vampy.]]

[Bye_bye_birdie45]

Lyla Darrow
The closer it came to nightfall, the more aggressive and bloodthirsty Lyla could feel herself becoming. It was simply a part of being a werewolf: you're normal for a few weeks, then BOOM you're angry and moody and nothing can cure it until the moon comes out, you rage and break things and sometimes, unfortunately, kill people... then everything returns back to normal. That is, if you aren't discovered, arrested or thrown out of town.

That was what lead Lyla to this city: it was large, she could go unnoticed, and in the last town she was in, she had accidentally killed the pastor's daughter when the teen came over with a casserole during the full moon. That had been a bloody, ugly scene, and Lyla had fled before the police had arrived. The girl's body couldn't be found anywhere, so she hoped the town-folk just assumed that Lyla was dead as well. If not, well... life was definitely going to suck for a while. She knew there were other werewolves around here: her friend Pablo had suggested coming to this town for it, although he had mentioned that there were also vampires around.

Vampires: disgusting creatures. Yes, she knew they technically were no longer drinking human blood, but they were certainly a more constant threat to others than werewolves were. It's possible for a werewolf to live in the middle of the woods somewhere, away from everyone else, so nobody got hurt; it would be difficult, exceedingly so, but it would be possible. For a vampire, they would die first.

Which, she supposed, brought her back to the current: death, or wanting to die. That, and anger. She could barely control the shaking in her hands and through her entire body, and she had locked herself in her apartment for the current time. When the moon actually came out, however, there was no telling what could happen, and Lyla only hoped everything would be alright...


~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~


Puck Tyron
"Hey, Elise," Puck called from her room, when she heard the sound of typing coming from another part of the apartment. "Can you leave the shower open for me when I get back around 10? I need it."

Despite attending different colleges (Elise's was a far more prestigious university while Puck was just glad to be earning her Associates), they shared the same apartment with each other, and they got along surprisingly well. Perhaps it was the fact that Puck was pretty much Elise's 'protective older sister' (read: guard dog), or that they had hung out and helped each other constantly through-out high school. Either way, they were good friends, and Puck was very grateful to have Elise in her life.

Even though Elise was nerdy as fucking hell.

Quickly scarfing down her toast, Puck grabbed her bag and scuttled out the door, making a note to take a quick shower before printing out the paper for her 1PM (because hey, she might not be a nerdy, but she sure didn't want to fail classes by not doing assignments), then head to the local gym after her class.

Like Elise with her blogging and article writing, Puck – begrudgingly – took mostly morning and early afternoon classes, so she could teach self-defense courses at the local gym. It made her feel good, knowing she was teaching teenaged girls and housewives how to defend themselves; and teaching small kids how to properly use karate techniques; and, occasionally, teaching an adult boxing course as a TA. She had grown up doing all sort of gymnastics, physical fitness and weapons training, and other sports – mainly because she had wanted any parental attention while living in a house full of three older brothers – and it was nice knowing she could defend herself, help others, and have a kick-ass body in the meantime. (Not to mention, her position allowed her to use the facilities of the entire gym as much as she wanted, without having to pay for a membership fee, so teaching classes four days a week certainly was worth it.)





[OOC: That's perfectly fine, sweetie~! I didn't want to make assumptions on any of your characters or what their histories would be like, so I kind of avoided talking about it. >.< And don't worry about it, I have a lot of stuff to work with here! :3]]

[EmmaliaChan]

Elise Navida
"Sure thing!" Elise called back, fingers tap-tap-tapping at the keys of her laptop as she spoke, not even needing to look up at the screen; she had a knack for dividing her attention to multiple places, which usually gave her an extra boost when it came to note-taking as she rarely missed a beat. "I already took my shower before I left this morning, anyway." It wasn't due to laziness, but instead from not being one to waste time, but her four-minute showers still left the girl plenty of time to get dressed and brush out her short hair before leaving at 5:45. It was all about practicality over physical appearance, though her neat-and-tidy, no-hair-out-of-place look might be appealing to some.

...Only if they liked SuperNerds, though.

She watched Puck breeze out the door through her peripheral vision, her fingers flying across the letters on her laptop, today's task being to completely re-write, top to bottom, the article she'd written on a brief observational study she'd been doing on turtle migration via satellite after donating a small amount to the organization tracking them - it wasn't directly related to her field, but it was related enough that she'd enjoyed the research she gathered. Besides, who didn't love turtles? Her steady speed of an averaged 114 GWAM (at least the last time she'd tested it) meant she made short work of it, though.

After taking a few minutes to sharpen up her staccato lead and opening paragraph, she submitted it. Normally she would get right to work on another article, but she'd been doing well and decided that after classes that night she wanted to take a bit of a break, so she started doing some research on local places. She obviously didn't want to go to a club... Drinking would look bad on her, and she'd still have some studying to do. She supposed she could go to one of Puck's classes - she'd been meaning to go for a long time, being as she had no skill at self-defense whatsoever - but she wasn't really doing quite well enough to justify the expense of a one-time class. The park was open all night, though, and it'd be a great place to get some studying done in a new environment. Even playtime had to be about work-time if she wanted to keep her grades up.




[[OoC;]] Feel free to timeskip~~!]]

[Bye_bye_birdie45]

Puck Tyron
Warm showers after an early class were practically orgasmic, Puck thought to herself, slinging her backpack back into her room as she shuffled into the bathroom. It gave her time to think, time to breathe, and everything always smelled especially nice after a good, long shower. While most people at the gym assumed Puck was rather dirty because of all the sweating she did (which was wrong, she just smelled like sweat at the end of the day), she always made sure to scrub her shampoo and conditioner hard into her scalp, put soap and sweet-smelling lotion on all over, and then apply deodorant on as needed. (Which, if she were honest, could be anywhere between twice to seven times a day: even though she used the men's stuff, which was supposed to last longer, she still sweat a lot during classes and work-outs.)

Sweaty women just ran in the family. Genetics were sometimes a bitch.

She did end up changing her clothes after her shower, despite her earlier thoughts, although it was only into a snug pair of yoga pants and a t-shirt bearing, "Pugs and Hugs" with a pug and a heart on the front. (Puck had a very smushed-faced puppy back at her parent's house, named Omelette. He was dumb as hell, and their current apartment didn't allow for animals, but she was getting him back into her own custody as soon as she could.)

After her second, and final, class of the day, she headed to the gym, put in an hour of a personal work-out, then taught three classes until it was about six o'clock. The sun was just starting to set, and Puck decided, What the hell, I'm going to treat myself, so she grabbed her bag and started towards a small outdoor diner known for fatty foods, ordered something very spicy and covered in all the things she shouldn't eat, and got it to go.

"My precious," she muttered to herself as she paid the cashier with a thank-you, before she started home.




[OOC: Done~! Also, I held off on Lyla for a second, to give Elise some breathing space to get where she needs to be. >:3]]

[EmmaliaChan]

Elise Navida
Once all of her classes were finished for the day, the dark-haired student hurried home to gather up her things to leave. Always one to double-check, she once again confirmed that the park was open 24/7, pulling up their website with a few quick keystrokes and a speedy browsing of her history. Smiling to herself, she snapped the laptop shut and shoved it into its case, along with stuffing a backpack with her enormous notes-binder and two textbooks.

As it wasn't exactly a social call, and she also doubted anyone would be in the park that late anyway, she didn't fuss too much over her appearance. Elise could kid herself all she liked, but she definitely wouldn't have fussed even if it was a social call - she saved her 'fancy' clothes for fancy occasions, and hell, she didn't even own any makeup. It was too costly and took up too much time, and she found her face to be suitable for what it was intended to do, anyway: covering up bone and meat, 'cause no one would want to see a faceless person.

...Elise had a strange, overly-literal way of thinking of things, at times.

Her teeth got a thorough brushing and a go-over with mouthwash, as did her hair, and for her, that was plenty enough. Minty breath was her only 'must', and as a result many people who were familiar with the nerd associated her with the smell of wintergreen. She then slung the laptop bag over her shoulder and put the backpack on over it, tucking her apartment keys in her pocket and heading out the door with her hefty load, being sure to lock it behind her.

As she didn't have a car, she flagged down a taxi and used the drive as a moment or two to enjoy the city; she loved the lights and the busy streets, and that there were so many different people everywhere she looked. Even as reserved as she was, there was something comforting about the large population; spending too much time studying or with her nose in a notebook and only ever seeing Puck could easily make her feel secluded at times, but taking a breather like this was a lovely wake-up call to remind her what the world was really like outside.

Paying her fare, she offered a friendly wave to her cab driver before heading down the park's path. The sun would set within the hour, for certain, but the park was so full of street lights she knew she could find somewhere bright enough to read. Her laptop screen was lit anyway, she supposed, and it was fairly likely that most of her work would be done by keyboard. She had a paper to write, assigned by a class that afternoon, and if she wanted to be able to re-draft it by the end of the week to make the due date, she had to get the first draft done that night.

Though she wasn't particularly hungry, since she skipped lunch she grabbed something from the only food stand was open: a hotdog. She hated hotdogs, but food was food; she was only eating it so she wouldn't get a headache later, anyway. It was somewhat tolerable after she saturated it with ketchup, at least. Carrying it with her, she found a picnic table under a bright streetlamp that was perfect for what she needed it for and set up shop, neatly placing her binder and textbooks in a perfectly straight row on the table, then opening her laptop in front of her, a cheerful tune playing as it booted and a photograph she'd taken of the interior of an old library popping up as her desktop came into view. Wolfing down the last few bites of her hotdog, she set to work.

[Bye_bye_birdie45]

Lyla Darrow
Funny things about full moons: obviously they didn't occur straight at midnight, but rather when the sun happened to come out that night. And, no, not like in the movies, the werewolf does not have to see the full moon: their body just knows that the full moon is out, and that is has to react and react immediately. Did it seem like a heat of flaming bullshit? Yes. But that was the way life worked sometimes.

So, the moment it hit 7:14 that evening, Lyla felt something starting to crawl under her skin. Unfortunately, she had been through many transformations in her lifetime, after being bitten at the age of twelve; the feeling would only grow more powerful, until she could see the veins in her skin becoming more prominent, and the skin around her body tightening, strengthening, becoming almost impenitrable. She could feel her jaw lengthening and unhinging, growing heavier and more dense as her teeth grew in size and weight. Her body was changing, morphing, and the strength and clarity behind her eyes also grew as she lowly felt what was left her her rational thought began to fade away...

Something that felt like Lyla, and not like Lyla at the same time, got down on all fours and sniffed around the room. Everything was clear, and it felt so foreign to it, much different than the small town in the country where it had previously been in. The musky smell of the woods was gone, and eveyrthing sounded so much louder now, and it didn't like that. There was nobody to latch onto, nothing familiar -

Meat. The scent of meat. That scent meant food, and food... Food was everything.

Before it could process anything else, it was suddenly outside, hiding from the moon and through the shadows of the city (at least this place had that: shadows), as it looked further for the scent and possibility of meat. And it found some, hidden in the belly of a creature that was staring straight into a square light. It couldn't help but let out a loud moan – which sounded like a disturbing, loud growl to anyone in proximity, which was only one person – before it bounded for the person that had the faint trace scents of pork and beef on her lips.









[[OOC: Sorry, I wasn't sure what to do about Puck at this second. I figured I'd drop her for a moment, and pick her up when the vampy come back into play. :3]]

[EmmaliaChan]

Elise Navida
She'd studied and typed away for much longer than she'd meant to. Okay, maybe she'd been fully aware that it was a high possibility that she'd spend almost all night outside, more than glad to be getting some fresh air instead of being stuffed in a classroom or her apartment, but Elise had intended to keep better track of time. Her paper's first draft was finished, the file website she used saving it automatically for her before she switched to start reading some of her notes. The girl took some time to transfer her latest written notes into digital form, mostly in case she ever lent someone her binder or if her pages ever got ruined, or some other horrible disaster happened. Relatively paranoid about the unreliability of technology since hard drives could go kaput seemingly at random sometimes, Elise liked to backup early and backup often. Besides, a good scientist should always keep multiple copies of her data.

Friendly Neighborhood Nerdette felt like she was retaining more sorting her notes than she had from reading them normally. Reorganizing, rereading, rewriting at times... It was good. She felt like she'd gotten a lot done, and definitely it seemed to have been a productive night. It was empowering! Nothing gave her a rush like the feeling of doing well.

At least until she heard a growling behind her. The rush she got was definitely more powerful, albeit not the good kind. Twitching a bit, she turned to look over her shoulder, spotting a creature there snarling at her and with an expression that could only be described as delirious hunger. Wolves? In the city? That was impossible, even for the park - the city officials would freak out and have it removed immediately, if they knew. How could he (or 'she', Elise supposed, as she had no idea of its gender, nor was she particularly concerned!) have gotten so far inside the city, anyway? It didn't make sense.

...Maybe she should stop pondering it and run now. It seemed a bit too late, though, as it had begun to charge towards her, so she did the only thing she could and grabbed her heavy textbook to swing at the creature, hoping to stun it long enough to run away, or at least do a bit of damage. She couldn't be ripped apart. Her credits definitely wouldn't transfer to the Big University in the Sky.



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Lance Joselin
Morgue. Even the word tasted bitter on the tongue.

Unfortunately, society's technological advances meant that tracking people and bodies was just too easy. Cadaver dogs, cell phone GPS, witness sightings, fingerprints, search teams with helicopters, nosy neighbors... The world had become a place rife with ways to catch a killer. Not that he wished to be one, of course, but these same techniques could be applied to a 'body snatcher', as well, particularly when said bodies needed to be relatively fresh to suit his, and the vampire population's, needs.

So, feeding night meant a trip to the morgue, and a latent prayer to a god he didn't believe in that there was a body suited to his specifications. If it was older than a few hours, the blood spoiled and was no longer fit for consumption. Should he be forced to drink it that way, he'd suffer a worse retching fit than when he'd tried surviving off of animals; sadly, due to the state of the city at the moment thanks to the bloody werewolves, specifically the handful of which who'd chosen to use the same technique of morgue-snatching his kind had used for decades, he was all too familiar with that potential scenario.

Entering the building had become a very simple process, the one thing he was grateful to technology for. One of the more tech-savvy younger vampires had set up a system to, if he recalled it correctly, 'broadcast a blank feed to the security cameras'. He... Didn't understand a word of it, so the boy had explained it in layman's terms: it made the cameras see exactly what they were supposed to if no one was around, and it made sure the timestamp remained accurate all the while. It was even hooked right up to his cellular phone, so all he had to do was press a button. Nifty.

His hunger only increased as he came closer and closer to the opportunity to feed. Knowing he only had a limited time window for the device (Uh, program? App? Whatever it was! He was just an old man who happened to look about thirty-five, he didn't understand these newfangled things!) to work its magic, he skulked down the corridors with haste, keeping his eyes and ears wide open in case of any workers doing overtime. Down the hall and to the left, just as always... There in front of him was his buffet table. Hopefully. The pristine rows of metal housed his potential meals, and the veteran vamp wasted no time in searching for that night's 'victim'.

Pulling open each drawer in turn, his heightened senses cringed at the smell of some of the older corpses. There was no worse smell than putrid human flesh, and it certainly was the least appetizing thing he could think of. It was almost amazing to him that he could still want to feed after smelling it, but the body needs what it needs, even when it's icy cold and technically dead.

Drawer after drawer, whiff after whiff, all of them were the same. Spoiled. Rotten. Rancid. Perished - in more ways than one, he supposed. Damn it! Damn it all!

He would have to try again the next day. What choice did he have? Getting sick was far worse than going hungry. But it hurt... He thirsted, he craved, and his body was screaming for sustenance he currently couldn't provide it. Every part of him ached, right down to his frozen heart. There was no waiting. Why should he wait? Why? Because there were werewolves? Because society said so? Because there was some stigma about creatures people didn't understand, or because they feared immortal beings? Why should he suffer this way because of humans, and why did he even want to be kind to them? What had humans ever done for him? How were they helping anyone, the wasteful, good-for-nothing, selfish things? He was a scary beast? They needed to take a good long look in the damn mirror.

Shaking with rage, Lance felt himself snapping and rushed from the building, taking a long route with few people in the hopes that he wouldn't lose himself entirely. He didn't want to hurt anyone... He was just so hungry. So thirsty. If he were a human, he was sure he'd feel less pain and thirst from a week in the Sahara without so much as a drop of water.

But why should he fight it!? They wouldn't hesitate for a moment if the tables were turned! If they ever learned that his kind existed, they would hunt them down with relentless force.

That didn't make it alright for him to hurt them, though. At one time, he himself was human. A soft, fragile being that had been hurt by someone he trusted and turned into a monster. No one should have to suffer like that.

No one but the selfish ones. Maybe he could weed them out? He'd be doing this hellish world a favor! It couldn't go any farther down the sewers than it already had.

But there was no way to do that, was there? To separate the good from the bad with any certainty? Everyone was guilty in some way or another. Right? Like that girl over there... She smelled lovely. Even though it was hidden by a layer of sweat, he could still detect whatever it was she'd used beforehand. It was quite a nice sweet scent. Even from so far away, and in the midst of an inner argument with himself, the girl caught his attention. She looked quite wonderful, too, if he were honest... Pretty face and a nice figure. But more than that, she smelled wonderful. Her blood... He bet it tasted wonderful. Her voice; Lance was sure it, too, must sound wonderful. Wonderful. Wonderful. Wonderful. Hunger. Hunger. Hungry. Thirsty. Tasty.

Oh, so tasty.

He needed her - even just a sip! - to make it home. The dark-haired man was sure of it, was sure he couldn't live so much as ten minutes longer without her blood. It was definitely the best blood that had ever existed, and that definitely wasn't an exaggeration brought on by his imminent starvation. Without thinking, as he seemed to have lost the ability to have any rational thoughts that didn't involve how wonderful her perfume (or so he assumed it was) smelled despite the distance between them, he began tailing her from a distance. It was easy to keep out of sight when he could track her by smell from so far away. As soon as there didn't seem to be anyone else around, he charged for her, aiming to knock her out, or at least knock her down.






[[OoC;]] I'm so sorry! I quoted the wrong post and totally forgot about Lance because of it. Didn't mean to leave you/Puck hanging!

By the description, werewolves in this world look like regular wolves, rather than bipedal pseudo-furries, right? Just want to be sure~]]

[Bye_bye_birdie45]

Lyla Darrow
Being smacked right in the face – er, snout – with a very large and heavy textbook was not something most werewolves found amusing.

There were many interesting things about werewolf strength: while werewolves were very strong during the full moon, the amount of strength they had was proportional to twice of their natural strength. For example, if Lyla was normally a body-builder who could bench 200-plus pounds, she would be absolute Hell on four legs as a werewolf. (Not that werewolves aren't Hell on four legs anyway, but the point stands.) However, since Lyla was a woman of average height and ability, being smacked in the face – snout – caused enough damage to at least force her to take a few steps back from the meat-smelling creature.

Now that it was much closer, it could realize that the thing – which was a young girl, with big glasses and a very scared expression, just like the last one – must have eaten the meat. It couldn't sense anything from the girl's pockets, or bag, or anything nearby, so it quickly lept at her again, pleased when they both tumbled to the ground. It was closer to the meat smell, and it sniffed the girl's face for a moment, trying to find out if there was anything left – or anything it could use to further find more traces of meat around the city.

But the scent lingered, and that smell was taunting it; it had been delicious, whatever the beef and pork mixture had been, and there had been other things with it as well, other foods that it knew were foods but could recognize, and all of the senses were overwhelming... It wanted to taste what she had tasted, so it did what it found to be most logical: it bit her, right on the mouth, and it growled when the scent of the meat was masked by blood, so it pulled away.

The interesting things with werewolves, and transformations: they transform by being bitten, and not being killed afterwards. Not claw marks, no biting on both behalves. Just one bite. But werewolf bites, the first one at least, heal relatively quickly... once the bleeding stops.


~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~


Puck Tyron
For several minutes as she headed home, wizzing past people as she clutched carefully onto her keys and the bag of food in one hand, all Puck could think about were the onion rings in her back, and how delicious they were going to taste, and it was very hard for her not to just take them out of the bag right now and eat them. They were going to taste amazing, and she was not going to regret it in the slightest, even if she would have to work it off later on.

Perhaps, if she had been more active in her surroundings, versus keeping her mind on what was in her own hand, she might have noticed sooner that there was a man following her. Unfortunately, this had happened once before (an ex-boyfriend, who she now had a restraining order again), and when it had occurred, she had entered the nearest shop and asked to call the police. It was all handled very civilly – on her end, at least – and she hadn't worried about him sense.

Unluckily for Puck, she was only about a block away from her apartment when she realized there was someone coming after her. She had never seen this man before – who was a good few inches taller than her, and pale as hell, she noticed – but she had enough training to know when she was going to be attacked. Puck immediately started to rely on instant, and what she had been taught, because the moment he was close enough, she barely managed to dodge him and swung at his face with the hand that held her keys (with each key between her fingers, as she'd been taught).

She was also very pleased when it connected with a part of his face, she didn't really care to check where, before she started to run home. That was the thing: defend yourself, and run as soon as you could.







[[OOC: That's totally fine, doll! Don't worry about that. :3 And yes, you are correct! And when they're out of the "full moon" mind-set, they look just like any other human being.]]

[EmmaliaChan]

Elise Navida
Trying to run was futile, almost hilariously so; she wasn't particularly athletic, meaning she may as well have been a snail trying to flee, particularly compared to a wolf. Even if that wasn't the case, after she'd stunned it with her hefty college textbook, she hesitated for just a split second after sprinting off, remembering she left her laptop and notes on the table. It was stupid, obviously her life was more important than those things, but the nagging in the back of the nerd's mind made her turn around again to go back - she could access her paper and almost all of her notes from another computer, as she kept everything backed up in the Cloud, but Elise wasn't thinking clearly.

Her brain couldn't process what was happening, the creature moving too quickly for it to keep up. Before she could react, she was on the ground with her face being bitten into rather painfully, the wolf's jaws clamped down into her cheeks. Stinging tears sprung to Elise's dark brown eyes and she clamped them shut, shaking and expecting the wolf to continue with its attack. It was a bear attack that one was supposed to play dead for, but she decided to try it in this situation, too, hoping she would be unpleasant enough to eat that it wouldn't make her a meal.

It didn't make much of a difference, though; it only took a few moments for the pain and fear to become severe enough to make her faint.


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Lance Joselin
Had he been at full strength, or at least had fed more recently than a week ago, her attack probably wouldn't have put a single scratch on him, and the girl would've ended up with bent keys and a bruised fist. But because he'd weakened, the lovely-smelling female did quite a number on his face, marking his cheek up with claw-shaped wounds that didn't bleed.

She wouldn't get away from him that easily.

Making a quick recovery, Lance groaned in aggravation under his breath, the sound it made seeming more like a rumbly growl. Even with his physical debility, his inhuman speed remained, to some extent. The determined vampire had no trouble catching up to the girl and grabbing the back of her shirt, swinging his sideways open hand towards the pressure point beside her collar bone in a second attempt to knock her out.








[[OoC;]] Okiedokie~~ Thanks for the clarification! Will the full moon cause her to transform right away or does the werewolf infection need time to fully take effect?

@ -@ Goodness me, so, so much auto-hitting in that post. Well, I could still work with it, either way.]]