Shop Mobile More Submit  Join Login
About Deviant Classified.United States Recent Activity
Deviant for 8 Years
Needs Core Membership
Statistics 186 Deviations 571 Comments 5,315 Pageviews

Newest Deviations



Three rooms. He wandered around them, barely noticing the details anymore. The second story was small, meant only to house the bedrooms themselves, and the staircase was narrow. How many times were there feet running up and down those stairs? Bellows to stop running in the house.
There was nothing else up there anymore. He’d moved everything out. Pale wallpaper, faded and worn was being re-done, almost like it was never there. The marks of pencil on the door frame, 3’1, 4’2, 5’7, 6’1. The last almost reached the ceiling frame. He whitewashed over them. No memories here anymore, just a room. Just a frame.
The downstairs was small too. It wasn’t meant for many people. Good thing was he didn’t have a whole lot to clean up.
The living room’s carpet was green, earthy, and the kitchen was bright and airy. Everything was still in working order, and the next buyers should have little trouble just moving in.  
He boxed away books, clothes, pictures, a ring he no longer wore, and a star. A brilliant, silver star in an ornate case. He taped over the cardboard. The realtor should be by soon, and he didn’t want to get in the way of any contractors. His bones creaked as he picked up the box, and he went out the front door, down the stone steps, and down the street. He didn’t look back.
The house was perfect. She walked up the stone steps and through the door. Right into the living room. The carpeting was in good shape, the area cozy but not stifling. This place looked well taken care of. The previous owners must have went out of their way for it.
In the years that would come it would need work, but she smiled to herself. He was very good at house projects. He would approve, and she wanted to show him as soon as she was sure it was well chosen.
It was close to a school, close to everywhere they would go together, and the realtor said it had a long stretch ahead of it still. Plenty of years to grow in and around.
The stairs were narrow, that was the only flaw. But the upstairs were charming. The master bedroom was spacious, and one of the other rooms seemed to be used as storage. The one to the right of the stairs seemed to be used as it was meant to be, and she inspected it thoroughly.
It was going to be a room of promise. Where her future, where his, would be laid to bed every night. She smiled again, happy with her choice of home. But as she went to leave something caught her eye in the closet, and she opened the faded panel door.
A hat. A beret with a patch of some sort sat on the coat rack. She reached to grab it from the dark space, a silver starlight glint off the jewelry on her finger, and she inspected the cap. It was hardly worn, but before set was well taken care of, too. With a shrug, she tucked it into her purse and pulled her cell.
She dialed the first number on her speed dial. This was the one.
A Silver Star

*Describe a building through the eyes of a man who has just lost his son to a war. Do not mention the son, or the war, and try not to use emotions to describe. Now write about the same building through the eyes of a recently engaged young lovebird. But do not mention love or the marriage.

This was a prompt BunnyQueen sent me, and I tried my hand at it. 

The coffee in front of her was a dark warm brown. She’d put enough milk in it just to not make it black. To make it just the shade of his eyes.
Aura sat at in a booth in the diner, staring at the cup, occasionally watching the graying overcast sky. It was one of those dreary days in fall that would produce no rainbows, no color. She hadn’t had a day like that in some time.
The cold was starting to nip, but Canyon Crossing never got more than a few inches of snow. For that Aura was grateful. She didn’t like the cold. It reminded her of dark nights in the void between stars, waiting for the warmth to wash over her when she got caught in a solar wind.
Cold was lonely.
Her apartment was cold. She lived in one of the rooms left vacant by the night of terrors, when reality was unsure what would happen to itself. Her renter, Mr. Gordon, a kindly widower let her live in the place for very little. She liked him. He had kindness in his smile.
She had a job with one of the contractors who worked side by side the lumbering business. It had just sprang up when the mines were deemed no longer safe, and Adam had helped her attain it. Thankfully since her hasty departure of his cabin they hadn’t run into each other. She didn’t know what she would do if she did.
But, she shirked her cowardice away, and sat at Hugh’s café, waiting. Waiting for a wall of a man to stride in, and hoped he didn’t walk out just as soon.
She had to admit that she’d come a long way since Adam had found her, since she had found him…she didn’t know which one anymore. She hadn’t worn gray since then, and tried hard as she could to not wear drab colors at all. She liked oranges and reds and browns, and since it was fall she could joke that she was just matching the trees.
She was fiddling with a button on her red woolen polyester coat when her cup was disturbed and a man took up residence in the booth opposite her.
Her cool gaze met his brown eyes, and she felt like she might burst into flame all over again.
He looked tired already, like he hadn’t slept in a while. She wondered if they were working overtime to get to the timber before the next rains, and worried over his health in the cold. His brown leather and flannel coat that was always so good at keeping her warm didn’t seem to be enough for him at the moment.
She could feel the cold seep to her from his jeans, and shifted her knee next to his slightly. Maybe she could speed up the convection just a bit.
Adam seemed to be looking for something to say instead of stare at her intently, and she tried to think of anything. Anything at all. Her mind drew a blank.
They used to talk about everything. The weather, the people of the town, the events. He’d asked her over and over to explain just what had happened before, and she found that re-hashing the details did indeed make the picture clearer. Talked about likes, dislikes, pet peeves. (She couldn’t stand where he put his shoes, he didn’t like her moving his razor.)
Now she couldn’t think of anything. She just stared at him absently, waiting for anything to come up.
“It’s cold.” Was all she found.
Adam looked at her with an incredulous expression.
“That’s all you’ve got?” He asked simply, his face showed no inflection. She huffed.
“You didn’t say anything. So I picked an obvious observation and hoped you would improvise.” She felt jittery. Nervous.
“You look well. I haven’t seen you around lately. How is work? Those are things you could’ve opened with.” He smirked. The waitress-Judy-set a cup of coffee in front of him. He drank his black. She couldn’t stand black coffee.
“You don’t look well. You look worn. And cold.” She took a sip.
His turn to huff. He looked over to the side to avoid her eyes. Aura wished he wouldn’t.
“Been working a lot lately. Not much else for me to do.”
“I haven’t been avoiding you.” She needed him to know that. He looked at her directly. His eyes made her feel warm.
“You mean it? Cause you’ve been on the other side of town for six weeks and you haven’t even told me where you live. Haven’t been able to drop by or anything.” He sounded a bit…hurt.
“Of course I mean it.” She looked down at the plain white mug.
“I don’t even have a phone number for you.”
“Do you want it?”
“Look at me.”
Aura hesitantly rose her eyes to his, and felt her words choke somewhere in her throat. He stared intently.
“Why did you just drop off the map? You haven’t called me, I don’t know how you’ve been doing, I don’t know anything. Why?” He half pleaded and demanded at the same time. His eyebrows lowered when he was angry.
“Because with the way I left so suddenly I was afraid to. I didn’t know if you wanted me to keep in touch.” She looked back down to the red mug.
“Aura. My eyes are up here.”
Brown on gray.
“Of course I did. You left cause you found your own place, I don’t hold that against you. I wanted to make sure you were happy with…” He trailed off, like he’d lost his own sentences.
“Happy with what?”
“With the new apartment, with the job. Just…happy.”
Aura sighed and fingered the rim of the brown mug.
“That’s supposed to be white.” Adam poked the cup. Aura felt a smile and let the rim go, the brown washing away to reveal the white mug.
“It was always white. I was just reflecting different spectrums of light when I was touching it….” She explained lowly. He chuckled a bit, and they sat in silence for a few more moments.
“I am…as happy as I can hope to be.” She looked up at him earnestly.
“I hope you are too, Adam.”
He shrugged.
“I don’t know anymore. I used to think I was and then…I stopped knowing.” He said tiredly. She felt worry rise in her chest.
“Stopped knowing? You aren’t mining anymore. That has to be something…” She lead on.
He shrugged.
“I work in Green Ridge Forest, every day, and I do like it. I’m going to be working with one of the carpenters next year, kind of like a work-study, I guess. But then I look at the woods and all I can think about is you. Then…then I’m happy. ” Adam looked up to her, hands on his own mug, knee against hers.
For autumn it sure was warm.
“Adam I-” She started to try to say…something.
“Yeah I know. You don’t remember.” He always cut in. She felt frustrated.
“That isn’t what I was going for.” Her statement was clipped. He paused, looking at her expectantly. She sighed slowly.
“I miss you. I have very little…comfort these days. I know these people, talk to them and yet…I don’t.” Aura felt lost and different most of the time. But not with him. Why didn’t he get that?
“Then we should do this a lot more.” He offered, a small smile lit up his face.
Aura nodded.
“Okay then.”
“And I should probably get your phone number. And you should call me sometime.”
“Adam I can barely pull enough words together when I’m looking at you, how am I going to be able to do so at some device?” Aura rolled her eyes and her mug reflected red.
“Heh. Fine, I’ll talk, but call me. I’ve gotta go.” He motioned towards the door.
Aura looked at him sadly.
“I should get going as well…”
They didn’t move for a bit. But when they did, Adam stood first. The heat fled from her knee. Aura stood up after him, and made a motion for her wallet.
“Don’t worry about it.” Adam slid a bill on the table. Aura sighed at him in frustration. He only smiled back.
She didn’t know how she did it, or when her feet started to move, but Aura pulled him into an embrace, and froze there.
Her arms were around his neck, and as such she stood on the tips of her toes. Her face buried into his neck, and she had no idea what to do from there.
She felt a panic as his arms wrapped around her.
“I miss you too, Starwalker.”
She didn’t need to say anything else after that, even if she could have. It was an awkward moment after they let go, but she kept his warmth with her for the rest of the day.
#80 Words
I just love them. They're trying to get back to what they were after Aura left, and the good thing is they make progress. It's hard sometimes to write for her, but I hope it turned out okay. 
I feel very…off.
Everything is wrong. Every snide look Amy gives makes me angry. Every biting remark that comes spinning out of Melony’s throat makes me want to snap. I can’t stand to be around Trent more than Sunday mass at best. I want to tear him apart.
And I can’t.
It’s a horrid nagging, only explainable as a torrential conscience berating me for every little thing I did.
I hate the way I think. I’ve been with myself for a century now, thinking is what I do. A constant scribble to keep my Beast away and now, I can’t stand myself. Every cold flippant gesture, every small dig I can no longer muster. Even my sarcasm is stunted.
I can’t lie. I can’t cheat. I can barely fight, and only when myself and others are in mortal danger-(Melony has no idea how close I was to frenzying that night. I don’t know if I’d have stopped. Best keep her ignorant.)
My impressive ability of immaculate calculation and ambivalence towards anyone and anything riled my Beast in ways it never had.
Like I was new to all of it.
I knew what happened to me, what Briske had done. I wasn’t an apprentice anymore. I found out what it was rather quickly, even.
Return of the Heart.
A curse Camarilla Tremere liked to pull on their Sabbat infiltrators and have their packs tear them apart for losing their edge.
I was never happier to be a part of the Shadow Steps than I was the third night after that discovery. Cybil would have destroyed me the minute I got between her and her meal.
I didn’t want to take chances, however. Raven was forgiving, but I did not know how much. Amy would hopefully see it as a delightful improvement. Trent would smell blood in the water.
Melony looked like she still wanted to pull me apart to see how I ticked.
I stay clear of Trent. I keep away from Amy’s tone. I bite my tongue around Cinder. And all the while I feel a roar in my chest.
Hopefully they can take my absences from their festivities as a sign of my unrelenting and cold character. It’ll keep them away from the truth.
But it wasn’t always possible. They got thrust into my face time and time again.
‘Aurora, a little girl, wants a normal life.’
-She is a weakness that has been exploited. Get rid of it.-
‘Crow, previous pack leader, of course wake him up. He didn’t deserve to die.’
-And he could be used just like your Ductus.-
‘Melony does not sleep well, her mind as dark as the past she fled.’
-If you really were the monster you tried to be, you’d use that against her when, WHEN she stabs you in the back.-
‘Harld really does need to calm down.’
-You should have beat his head in until he stopped moving and his body turned to ash.-
‘And fuel a rivalry? She would have killed me.’
-She may be the one fated to kill you anyway. Why else would you dream of her?-
‘Harld means too much. It wouldn’t fair well for Melony.’
-This curse is the ONLY reason you care. WHEN it wears off, WHEN, what happens? What becomes of her ‘Funny Man’ then? When you can’t smile through the numb belligerence on your face?!-
I was thankful the rest of the pack didn’t notice. Or they did not care. When I got my edge back, they’d not have anything to miss.
And the thought of it infuriates me.
When I got my edge back? When I became a cold killer all over again?! Because that is worth attaining?!
-Compassion gets you killed. Survival has meaning. Power has meaning.-
‘But with it I would have had something worth living for.’
-You aren’t alive.-
‘But I feel alive. More alive than I have since…breathing.’
-It’s the curse.-
‘You cannot exist only to survive, old boy.’
-Funny, that came from a dying man.-
‘Funny, the idea of surviving for no purpose came from Briske.’
That was another thing.
With this new…conscience, I’ve started to think about things that I never let bother me before.
1875 to 1888. It was all…gone. Pieces and flashes here and there tried to trick me into knowing I was with Briske that time, but no. That was all in a decade and a half. Thirteen years, missing. I feel like I had known it was gone before, but it mattered so little to the overall scheme to me. Now…it did.
It confuses me, terrifies me. I don’t know why Briske had kidnapped me simply to curse me with a nagging kindness. For my pack to kill me? No. For me to kill the monsters I rode with? Maybe. But something told me it was deeper than that.
There are moments my mind flies a mile a minute and I cannot break out of my own head. My thoughts flood and all I can do is focus on them until the problem is finished.
I often times just sit near the pool when my head runs too fast- thoughtless, ruthless. Then…when I thought of it harder…
Valentina doesn’t know. Her aggression is ignorance. Inform her.
Raven would not survive. He is useless dead. He doesn’t deserve to be a tool.
Crow could help in ways unseen. Give it time.
Cinder would be long gone by now if there was nothing in him to fight for.
Melony still stands, in defiance of time. Still, your only friend.
Trent knows nothing of pain.
Amy is only a neonate.
Harld is waiting to see what you can become.
Cold logic could be tempered by a great many things, and when I stop the ways I used to think and behave, it made it easier.
Yes, I was changing because of a curse, but if I did not, I would fall to the Beast over the most trivial of things. I would find a way to overcome it, even if I couldn’t do all the things I was accustomed to. Even if I started to see Raven in a different light. Even if I had to learn to forgive Cinder his outbursts. If I had to learn who Amy was. If I started to grow attached to the woman underneath the frost.
Live to fight another day, but first you must survive.
And I did everything I could to survive, did I not?
#73 Restriction
Because I love to throw him through the meat grinder. Every horrible thing I can think of I love to shove him through, maybe because I know Whitacre will always get back up. 
A broad man, tall, fit, with long red hair and a long beard circled about patiently.
“I…I don’t know what I’m doing…” A girl, no older than eight, stood in the center of the room, her small hands holding a top hat. She was so tiny, with rich auburn hair that fell below her waist in waves and small curls, and bright amber brown eyes, alight with fear.
The tall bearded man had the same color eyes.
“And yet you do it all the same. Fascinating.” He said calmly, taking the top hat from her gingerly. She didn’t seem to want to let it go.
“My papa had a hat like that…” She said shakily, her eyes starting to fill with crimson red. He knelt down to her.
“Demitria Anne Claude, you must not. You cannot. There is no room for tears in our world.” He chided, but it was gentle if firm. He didn’t want her to show that kind of weakness. She had been brutally murdered, and sent against her own parents. He knew she had every right to weep for the rest of eternity. But such things were not suitable for a Tremere. His jaw tensed at the thought.
She shook her tiny head in determination.
“Yes, Sir Claude.” She tried to keep a straight face, a strong chin. She shook.
He stood and stepped away from her. The top hat vanished in a swirl of shadow and smoke. The summoning stopped.
“Now then. Try something a little more involved. Something with moveable parts. Like…a parasol.” Sir Phillip Claude suggested, and sat down at a stool out of her way.
The attic space was ill-fitted for such things, but they had little to work with. Demitria needed training, and a reason for Darvain not to kill her on sight. The girl had an amazing knack for magic, if only she could harness it to show her forced Sire.
She exhaled slowly, and clapped her hands together. When she pulled them apart, a stick formed, mechanical parts bled themselves into reality, and a sheet of cloth unfurled itself upon the device. Frilled edges, a carved handle, and the thing opened effortlessly as it landed in her small hands. She twirled it behind her with a small giggle.
“Ha! Wasn’t that hard.” She boasted with glee.
Sir Claude only chuckled to himself and shook his head.
“Yes, but does it stay?” He reminded.
Demitria looked at him worriedly.
“Will making it stay…help them accept me?” She asked tentatively.
He stood with a shrug.
“I’ve never dealt with the Tremere enough to know. But if you prove you aren’t…a waste of vitae, they may be coerced to comply. I know things about Darvain he’d best left buried. This could also help.”
“Why would knowing things like that help?” She was only eight. He furrowed his brows.
“Vampires live on secrets. The more secrets you know, the more power you have. The more you can get people to do things for you.”
She still looked a bit confused, but that was fine. She would learn with time. She had to. She twirled her parasol in delight.
“It hasn’t vanished yet. Seems I’ve more a knack for this than you thought, Sir Claude!” She skipped lightly with the contraption.
Yes, she had a gift for thaumaturgy. She would need it.
#62 Magic
Every once and a while I overlook just how young she was when she became a vampire. This is her and her mentor, her ancestor, securing her abilities to keep her among the unliving. Such a drastic change from this girl to the gun-toting and cursing fire brand she is now. 

Mature Content

or, enter your birth date.



Please enter a valid date format (mm-dd-yyyy)
Please confirm you have reviewed DeviantArt's Terms of Service below.
* We do not retain your date-of-birth information.
Where in Arcadia had these soldiers COME from anyway?!?!
Felix Knight,  Clan of the Moon, Lost Boy, defender of all things good and right and just crept through the streets of Washington DC, hiding in shadows and on rooftops.
The Blue Rose Knights, as they called themselves, started to invade the world in a silent inquisition against the denizens of the World of Darkness. No Kindred, Cainite, Garou, Kithain, Ghoul or Mage was safe. They held wicked steel blades, with some sort of syringe system that coated the blade in a chemical that burned like the sun to any supernatural being. Felix knew what the chemical was-it was in their name.
The Blue Rose. All caps. It was a plant devised by Gaia herself, or so the legends said, to be a great equalizer. A defense for humans against their preternatural foes. It was never meant to grow to such a quantity that every one of these ‘Knights’ could afford to have a sample.
They had taken over most of Europe. Ancient resting places of the most influential children of Caine in the world were being disturbed. Princes and Archbishops, Sept Leaders and Dukes, Neonate and Apprentice were being killed off in droves. They had practically destroyed the society of shadows within less than a decade.
Now they were here. In America.
(Most of the Locums were safe in Bridgeton, England. It seemed the Isle of the Mighty was becoming the only safe place in that part of the world. Kaitlyn had taken to traveling with Felix, but they were separated at the moment. With Rome being the birthplace of this cult of eradicators, Chance Castle and Clairessa had moved to New Orleans and set up safe harbor for any who needed it. Kathy and Jerry Hart had moved to Chicago long before this all started, and did the same.)
The Locums as a whole saw this as their problem, these Blue Rose Knights, and Felix thought that they needed to be stopped on principle. They weren’t only killing denizens of darkness, after all.
That lead him here. Kaitlyn had wanted to meet up, as she had a vessel they would be using to get to Easter Island, the source of The Blue Rose, and thus the problem. He had just got caught up in helping those that needed it. He hated seeing anyone flee for their lives, and he spent most of his time in DC not looking for Kaitlyn like he was supposed to, but doing what he did best.
He was a true knight. Not like these murderers.
He’d heard of a Chantry, a potent one that had been in the area since the city was founded, and it was about to be destroyed. Attacked by these soldiers. Perhaps he could warn the resident Tremere, get them out before it was too late.
He landed in the back alley behind the old steeple church, and effortlessly crawled up the side of the stone building to the roof, and peeked in through the skylight.
He only had a split moment to act.
There was a Warlock, and in his embrace was a woman in a white lab coat, blonde hair pulled into a ponytail the Tremere was holding in order to drain her dry.
Just as he looked, the door shattered open, and SWAT-like armored soldiers brandishing semi-automatic weapons came in, headed by one with a archaic-looking sword. Each of their breastplates had a blue rose decaled on.
His split moment was ticking. He felt the world’s temporal flow get muddled and his world blur, Temporis always made him feel like he was shunted through a tube.
The skylight he was spying through shattered as he pulled his wooden scimitar from his belt and went through it.  He was five feet from the ground as the soldier with the blade cut through the Tremere like a hot knife through butter. His vitae splattered his victim and then he turned to ash.  Glass fell like rain and bullets started to fly when the 12 year old hit the floor, but not before bringing his sword down on the soldier’s helmeted head.
Time flowed normally.
More bullets, a hail storm of them, and a burst of his own vitae while he sped to get out of their way. He zig zagged across the grand church’s mass room to the first, and the second, and the third, inhuman potency behind every swing of his blade. He felt the bones break on contact, saw their bodies fly with the force, heard the yelps of agony in his wake.
Felix rushed back to the sword-bearer, who was just starting to recover from his previous blow, and the Lost Boy reacquainted him to the sensation. Even with a faceplate the helmet could not match him, and the soldier flew back with such force he flipped a few times. The Blue Rose sword scattered away from him, and Felix snatched it up by the hilt.
Pain. So much pain.
His hand practically set ablaze, but no flame. He reeled back, looking at what it had done and fearful for his existence.
It looked like his palm had been dipped in flesh-eating acid. It sizzled angrily at him. He shook it vigorously, and eyed the hilt of the sword.
There were precautions against the sword being used by all but humans. The hilt had the same syringe system that the blade had. A thin but potent layer of the chemical was smeared over it.
Felix was confused. It was supposed to kill him on contact. Instead it just aggravated his hand to no use. At least for tonight.
He wrapped his hand, and then used the soldier’s scabbard and glove to wrap the blade, and strapped it across his back. He had not forgotten about the girl, and she lay motionless and pale on the ground, haloed in the glass Felix had fallen through.
Violet eyes scanned her for any sign of life, and he held his left hand under her nose for indication. She was covered in ash and Tremere vitae, and Felix could only sigh in defeat.
Felix Knight had killed four men tonight, but saved not one soul. He growled at his failure. His hand burned and his heart ached.
A slight moan broke his concentration.
He shot up, and saw the woman in the coat stir.
Felix ran to her side, and held her head up to look at him.
“My lady!! My lady can you hear me?!” His graveled voice at least made her hazel eyes open.
Then her back arched, her limbs twisted in agony, and she screamed. Vitae from the slain Tremere was strewn all over her mouth, and Felix realized in horror that some may have gotten in as she had lost all of hers.
She was changing.
She’d need blood or she would frenzy and end up getting slain anyway.
Felix hoisted her writhing form up and fled the place. He ran and ran until he got to one of his dens in the city, and set her down. She’d be safe for a time, but he needed to help her. It would take a while for the change to fully happen, so he had to hurry. His hand was still burning like fire, but he had the fortitude to withstand it.
Felix was off!!
Down the alleys, across the roofs, down some more alleys, across the streets, over cars, dodging obstacles, leaping tall fences in a single bound, more streets, WAIT MOTORCYCLE!!---
A screeching cacophony and a bright light blinded him as he barely got out of the way. The motorcycle hit it’s side and it’s rider had to abandon it. They rolled till a stop, but the motorcycle continued on, tumbled down the road, hit a street light, and crashed onto another car. The car siren went off.
The rider’s helmet hit the asphalt tiredly, and with a groan SHE stood up and looked at the boy who stood in the street.
Felix had a signature pose reminiscent of Peter Pan, hands on his hips, feet apart, chest out and head high.
Who did this grump think she was? Almost running him over.
Her hands raised slightly as she looked at the scene, and pulled the helmet off her head.
She was 5’4, only three inches taller than Felix, with a little longer than shoulder length auburn hair. She was pretty enough, for an old lady(at least to Felix), looking in her late teens, with blue green eyes. Her skin was pale but not pasty, and she was lean and fit looking.
Never mind! His indignant rage quelled, he realized she may be of use.
“What the heck are you doing, kid?” Her voice was trained, like a songstress. Felix had a lot of experience with them.
“YOU. I require assistance. And since your vehicle is…out of service at the moment, you seem to be the best I’ve got.” Felix stated simply. The girl looked at him incredulously. He was used to it. She didn’t say anything, just looked like she tried to make some excuse.
“Someone is in dire need of my help! There are those Blue Rose soldiers about and we’ve not much time! So hurry! Out of the street! Make haste!” He cried and shooed her out of the street as well as himself. They scurried to an ally nearby, and ducked behind a dumpster.
“Kid-I don’t know who you are-”
“Of course! Felix. Felix Knight. At your service, ma’am!” He introduced himself with a flair. She still looked at him like he was insane.
“Terrwyn Locklin. Hi. Look-”
“Now, there’s a young girl going through her change, she’s needs some form of sustenance. And we have to get it to her. I have a plan, but I need two hands-and sadly I only have one for the eve.”
Felix picked up a discarded piece of wood, and started to use it as a drawing tool on the dirt below.
“Now. We are here!” X marks the spot. “We need to get to the petting zoo that is HERE.” Circle to the target. “There are Blue Rose squads here and here-” Triangles. “-and we need to get past them. We sneak into the facility, and I’ll toss the selected llama-” A poorly drawn llama head, “-Over the gate to you.” A slight ‘Meh!’ sound was illustrated coming from the llama as it was tossed to ‘T’, Terrwyn.
“Do llama’s even make that sound…?” She whispered to herself but audibly to Felix.
“HUSH! Planning stage still going. We sneak back OUT of the zoo, and ride the llama down the street triumphantly to our awaiting damsel!” He stood with a spin and tossed the stick down the alley.
Terrwyn looked up at him, and her face brightened into a grin.
“Ah, great plan, but there’s a hospital down the street. We can just go get some donated blood from there.” She stood and pointed.
Felix scoffed.
“I am the leader of this mission, and what I say is the plan we take! Got it?!”
Her grin fell from her face and she looked at him in a bitter sort of disappointment. She crossed her arms and peered down at him somberly.
She had a stunning grin, he had to admit.
The girl kept up with him well. He was typically hard to follow, most grumps had trouble. They eyed the hospital, hiding behind a car parked in the lot.
“Alright. You make an enormous distraction over by the ambulance!” Felix dug in his pockets and handed Terrwyn the contents. She eyed them with the same expression she had looked at Felix with the entire eve.
“What am I supposed to do with these?” She held her hand out to the lost boy. He looked down at the palm full of a paperclip, three pieces of candy, a thimble, two jacks and a piece of chalk.
Felix cursed his own ingenuity. Of course she wouldn’t get it with all that excess in the way!! He took back the thimble.
“There!” He exclaimed softly but strongly.
Terrwyn looked like she was about to say something else, but she just shook her head, and then nodded to herself.
“But Felix how am I supposed to distract everyone if I don’t have a thimble?” She said humorously, but all Felix saw was how totally right she was. He put the thimble back.
“Okay, but I’ll need that later when we run into Boogeymen.” He hissed and peeked around the corner of the car.
The emergency room was a complete wreck. People in coats, scrubs, hurt and injured, flittering to and fro. He heard Terrwyn laugh behind him.
“Why don’t we just go get some of those white coats and blend in?” She suggested, handing Felix back his nick knacks.
“Well if you’re going to be boring about it.” He scoffed.
Getting the ‘uniforms’ was easy, and Terrwyn was strolling through the hospital hallways like she knew exactly what she was doing. Like she belonged there. She even nabbed a clipboard and a pair of glasses to fit in a bit more professionally.
Felix noticed none of this. Only saw a guarded dungeon of mad scientists, each with spinner blades for hands and scalpels for teeth. He dodged from hall to hall, diving into dirty linen bins, into and out of vents, and passing Terrwyn secret spy messages the whole way.
Half way through she finally realized they were on a mission here and followed his lead, although he had to say she was the happiest spy in the world by that grin on her face.
They found the coolers, and when everyone was out of their way began to pack the scarlet bags into another linen sack. Terrwyn hung it over her shoulder, and much like the way they came in, they left. Only this time, Felix cloaked the two of them by way of obfuscation, and not one person noticed their leaving.
Victorious, the two ran laughing down the street at their triumph. Felix would have preferred the llama, but alls well that ends well.
Giving the girl her vitae was gruesome. It was a terrible process, becoming Lost. She handled it like a champ, and Terrwyn helped her go do girl stuff like bathe and all that when it was over. The grump came back shaking, but a grump. One of the lost ones. She nodded her head at Felix and smiled at Terrwyn.
“I hate to cut this short, but those Blue Rose Soldiers will be here any moment. You must make haste to Chicago, or New Orleans. There you will be safe.” Felix stated, already feeling very late for his meeting with Kaitlyn.
“Wait-you’re leaving us? She doesn’t know what she is or what she’s doing. You wrecked my bike, forced me to help you and then ditching me?!” Terrwyn almost yelled, eyes blazing at him.
Felix sighed.
“You’re right.” He agreed. It would be unkind to leave such a young one in Terrwyn’s care. They wouldn’t make it to the border. They wouldn’t make it far at all. Terrwyn’s eyes widened in surprise.
Felix flailed in his spot in disbelief.
“Of course! Now, I am awaiting a ship with an ally. We may be able to get you on board and find out what happens then. She can walk, that’s a good sign. We have to move quickly. We have to race the sun-and we are heading east.”
Terrwyn looked at him with more disbelief than before.
“That’s a cool saying.” She smiled absently at him. Felix blinked.
“No, really, the sun is rising and we have to go that way.” He pointed east.
Terrwyn’s face fell.
Kaitlyn was at the docks, and the three got to the submarine-yes-submarine safely. It was Falkir’s sub, so Felix took great joy in running about the place.
Kaitlyn rolled her eyes at Felix dragging new compatriots to the boat, but she could not in good conscience leave them there either.
Alexis(the girl Felix and Terrwyn had saved), was being taught basics by Kaitlyn, and thus was busy for most of the three week journey. Felix ran the gamut of things to do, and learned very quickly that Terrwyn was a grump that knew how to have fun. If he snuck through the engine room, she prowled with him. When he tackled the monsters beneath the bed, she distracted the others with high-pitched noises, when he made a fortress in Falkir’s room out of his sheets and pillows, she helped him defend it from intruders. (Alexis was going to feel the sting of those thrown pillows for a LONG time.)
Terrwyn was a trained opera singer, but she had a grand interest in adventure and martial arts. She was abducted by someone who hated her tutor, and they treated her terribly. The Blue Rose Soldiers killed her captors, and she was left alone.
Felix liked her. And when Kaitlyn decided she was going to help them take on Easter Island, he already knew that they were going to make a great team.
#41 Teamwork
Felix is one of my favorite characters ever, and this is him meeting Terrwyn Locklin, who shows up in quite a few of my other stories. (Owned by TewrrwynLocklin, ha.) 
This is a VERY Alternate reality than the Cannon World of Darkness, keep in mind.


United States
Current Residence: Pick a spot.
Favourite genre of music: Any Rock
Favourite style of art: Free style!
MP3 player of choice: Zen V
Shell of choice: The ones with Ghosts in them!
Personal Quote: Dream Big. Dream True. But most of all, Dream.
I've finished On the Town, but have yet to have a chance to post it, and kind of lost some steam there for a while. So instead of tackling new themes, I decided to try to get out of my head some ideas for ones I did previously. I wrote a different Fairy Tale, and I may end up doing that with some other ones, we'll see.
    Thad has another piece coming up, and after the next two is going to be a radical change in his life, so I'm excited about that. Whitacre has a good one in the works, just have to get there. I have a few intriguing stories for Mal-Risa, and one makes me nervous to write because it deals with her back story and the why she is the way she is, and it may end up alot more visceral than I think I've done before. 
    I'd like to get to some Felix ones, because he's been deprived lately and I need to give him much needed story-time. Demitria needs a few herself, but I think I'll write them when we get a chance to get to them in game. Or I may just do themes of backstory for both. May be easier.
    As for the rest, I'll get to them, and they may seem more like blurbs than continuous stories like Thad or Whit. Either way, I feel I'm getting better with every story I write. Thanks to everyone for their feedback, mostly BunnyQueen and TerrwynLocklin, and here's to more soon!!!
  • Mood: Sunny Mood
  • Listening to: The radio at the Fire Dept.
  • Reading: Other's stories.
  • Watching: My Mouth, actually.
  • Playing: With the expectations of humanity.
  • Eating: Nothing. My hunger for souls has been sated.
  • Drinking: Mountain Dew Baja Blast!

AdCast - Ads from the Community



Add a Comment:
TixieLix Featured By Owner May 9, 2015  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Thanks for the fave on my Street Fighter work!
Talex-1 Featured By Owner May 11, 2015
No problem! I love all your work!!!
Radman1919 Featured By Owner May 17, 2014  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Thanks for the fav.  :hug:
bunnyqueen09 Featured By Owner Feb 5, 2014  Student General Artist
What do I do in school instead of doing homework? I read Kay stories!! :D Really adoring them so far, of course :P 
Talex-1 Featured By Owner Feb 5, 2014
YES! I am SO much better than homework! How do you like them? Comments? Questions?! GIVE ME FEEDBACK! Other than 'Oh my goodness, they're awesome!' FEEDBACK!!
Radman1919 Featured By Owner Jan 21, 2014  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Many thanks for the favs.  :)
Radman1919 Featured By Owner Jan 17, 2014  Hobbyist Digital Artist

You have been tagged my friend…

JamesVillanueva Featured By Owner Dec 29, 2013  Professional Digital Artist
Thanks for the favs.
Fastfood Featured By Owner Dec 29, 2013  Professional Traditional Artist

:salute: Hey, thank you for the support! :thanks:



bunnyqueen09 Featured By Owner Dec 29, 2013  Student General Artist
Just wanted to inform you that I slightly harmed the fave button for your stories. Realized I had hardly read them so I started going through. I am hungry for more…. :rage:
Add a Comment: