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Graham allowed himself to be led by Rals, not at all eager about joining a fight either. His grey eyes looked guilty as he shook his head. There was no way he could beat Tom up. Sure, he had taken boxing classes with his uncle, but one, he didn't have the guts to, and two, no matter how many classes he had taken, Ruthlop was like a brick wall, and Dan was always flanking him. As if Ruthlop couldn't overpower Graham on his own, he also had the 6'3" bulky (though not exactly buff) Dan who could grind his face into the asphalt just because of the man's sheer mass. Looking at Rals as if he had done something horribly wrong, he dipped his head, eyes gravitating towards his feet.

"I'm sorry. If I hadn't overreacted earlier this wouldn't have happened. I'm fine though. Nose only broken," he muttered, shrugging. Graham Ridell looked at his date apologetically, before bowing his head to her and asking her simply if she would like to dance with him. "I normally play music, not dance to it, so do forgive me if I'm horrifically terrible," he laughed, his grey eyes actually looking happy even though he was still a little weak in the knees and had just gotten punched in the face.

 

Tom growled at Xander, hatred brimming within the blue oceanic pools that were his eyes. He didn't step forward, but instead shook his head and sighed, crossing his harms and gritting his teeth. Bringing himself to his full height, which was still shorter than Xander, but only by about four inches, he still had the muscular advantage. Granted, the guy was well-built, but Tom wasn't small himself. But Ruthlop wasn't looking for a fight this time. No, instead he was looking for an argument, or debate. It seemed that Xander felt he was above Ruthlop, and that Ruthlop was just another stupid jock that was always the bad guy, had no personality, and was a complete ass. He was partially that, but he had personality. And he wasn't always at fault.

"Really Xander? Are you aware that I can't be completely unintelligent? I have straight A's in all my classes, and contrary to popular belief, my father doesn't pay my teachers off. Just to let you know. And none of you would bother to find out my personality, because I'm always the bad guy. Such horrible, cruel assumptions, Xander. But you see, he punched me first, and just for stating a fact. I said his uncle was an alcoholic, and tell me that isn't true. C'mon, tell me! But it is true, and he punched me for it, so I punched him back. He knew what was coming. So you can take you ****ty comments and shove them up your ass," Tom snarled, before turning on his heel and storming away, Dan and his girls flanking him, just like always.

 

((Sorry for shortness, rather rushed on this one!))

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Marcy watched as Johan walked over to the two of them, no longer in his well, okay it was a hot suit, it was open front and blah blah blah. It made Marcy blush for a moment just thinking about him in it as he walked over to them. She erased the image from her mind as best as she could, but then found herself looking up at him as he spoke and asked her to introduce Kathanya to him. She was about to , but he continued speaking about how he watched people.

 

"Be careful Johan. You don't want people to know about your stalking ways." She said with a chuckle then looked at Kathanya wondering what the girl thought about him already upon first impressions. Marcy wished that she could read minds instead of being inhibited by the 20% or something or other that she used of her mind instead of the full capacity.

 

"And how am I to introduce you two if you won't let me?" her voice regained it's harsh tones since none were really paying attention. She had enjoyed letting her accent go, but it was too surgery sweet for her taste. "Kathanya, this is Johan Hawk, a transfer student from England. Johan, this is Kathanya Guard, a fellow Scholar and friend of mine. One of the few people that are able to tolerate me without hitting me once or twice."

Marcy grinned at Kathanya and leaned against a marble pillar, but soon jumped up from the cold pillar to look through the crowds that suddenly formed as Mr. and Mrs. Adams stepped up for the next dance. Hardly anyone stayed on the floor except for the heads of the departments but they didn't seem to stay on the floor after the Adams pair stepped up to the dance floor. Across from them entered Victoria and Rollo Forks as well as Aloysius von Voght with Kachine Darkfoot, and Montague de Champlain with Yasu Hitsugaya. All were dressed in classical ballroom attire and each looked absolutely beautiful.

 

this was going to be great! Marcy thought to herself as she pressed towards the edge of the crowds, allowing Johan to speak with Kathanaya alone and answer any questions that she may have. The orchestra struck several measures which set the pace, causing Marcy to look in surprise at the Adams pair because it seemed that they would be far to old to keep pace...

 

Once all four pairs were lined up together, they bowed each to the other then took their positions with Jamila and Zebulon in the center, and the three others arranged around them. As soon as the dance took off, they each moved in perfect unison following the speedy measure in a way that would keep the watched entranced far longer than they had wanted. It was going to be a short dance, this Marcy knew, but the way that each of them danced...it was like it was the experience of Johan all wrapped into each person and each of them added their own change of beat here, flourish there, but they still held the beat.

 

Marcy was awed with which the beauty that they moved wondering how it was that the Adams couple kept up with the speed of the song for they were far too old in her opinion to move that way. Two minutes passed faster than she had wanted it to and once they were finished, Marcy applauded their planned performance then watched as they filed off together into the warmed garden.

 

"Wow..." was her whispered response as she watched them walk off.

 

((Jamila's Dress, Zebulon has white underneath a black tux, Yasu Hitsugaya's dress, Montague has a light pink front w/black tux, Kachine's dress, Aloysius has a sky blue front, Victoria's dress, Rollo has an all black suit.))

 

Xander watched as Tom walked off and smirked to himself glad that he hadn't decided to stay and also glad that Carmandy had interfered. "Thanks Carmandy." he said and then looked down at her. She seemed to be in a far off land as he took her arm and the two of them walked into the ballroom. It was rather beautiful to see all of the women and men in their high class garments, and to see how they all moved gracefully about the floor. But what surprised Xander the most, was the appearance of all of the elder members of the pack, or generally some of the members of their races...including his own father who seemed to have a childish grin on his face as he danced with a brightly dressed Yasu.

 

"Oh dear." he muttered, drawing Carmandy's attention to the dance floor where she spotted her own parents and quickly dropped a wall over her face, not allowing anyone to see any sort of emotion. He knew that she didn't want her parents to see the real her, the her that was crying inside, the her that he had seen only once. With a sad smile he walked until they were away from where her parents would exit, and there they stood, watching interactions between people to pass the time.

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"You know better. The reason that I stay beaten, and I stay harmed and starving is because no one takes advantage of Marcy Livingstone."

 

Kanthaya ducked her head slightly and nodded, a bit embarrassed at having accused Marcy. Of course that was why Marcy was the way she was; Marcy was just amazing that way, not letting anyone take advantage of her... no one ever took advantage of Kanthaya, but she wasn't sure what she'd do if they did. She had been lucky enough to avoid the situation so far.

 

Kanthaya followed Marcy's gaze onto the dance floor and almost dropped her jaw when she saw Mr. Hawk dancing with barely a shirt on. She quickly looked to the ground, glad her dark skin didn't show blushing. She had just... well, never seen a guy with his shirt off except for a few dying poorlings and medical subjects. But Hawk... he was flawless. His muscle was something Kanthaya would love to take a medical analysis on. She figured he must be taking some sort of steroids. Kanthaya turned her attention back to Marcy, promising not to look at Johan again for a while.

 

"He was kind of vague in a way when he told me about it. The gist of it though is that it was designed by his uncle and never sold for it was a finicky drug to say it in his words. He said that it reacted differently with each person. With some it would only heal recent wounds, and with others, like myself, wounds and scars and broken bones from the past. I mean, I used to have a crooked nose and a broken cheek bone... everything... it corrected the bone structure over night and even healed something internal I just don't know Kathanya.... I just don't know." Kanthaya sucked in all this information like a sponge. She didn't believe what Johan had said--what kind of silly excuse was that? But she didn't say anything and simply pondered. She nodded slowly when Marcy answered her last question.

 

"Wow. He sounds like a really nice man." Even Kanthaya couldn't tell if there was sarcasm in her voice or not. She pretty much meant what she said... pretty much. And suddenly he was done dancing, in and out of the men's room, and back in suite. Kanthaya swallowed as he approached. He was so... confident. Absolutely confident, like he ruled the world.

 

"Marcy." The way he took her hand and said her name made Kanthaya almost shudder. Did he really like her, or was she just his prize? His... his drug tester? Was he planning to get her hooked on something? Even if he was, Kanthaya wanted to know what it was he had given her...

 

"Now that I've fulfilled any social obligations for the evening and had a chance to stretch out of this ungainly suit, do introduce me to your friend. Mi'lady I'm Johan Hawk, though I'm sure Marcy's managed to mention that much at least. I'm afraid I don't know your name, I never forget a name and a face but one can't remember what one has never been privy to know. And since I haven't watched you before, I can't say that I know it."

 

Kanthaya immediately did a low curtsey, suddenly feeling quite under-dressed. But somehow she had forgotten exactly what she was supposed to say when meeting a Richie. "How are you faring? It is an honor to be in your presence," she tried. However, her voice was overtaken by Marcy's, and she was rather glad for she was sure she had said it wrong.

 

"Be careful Johan. You don't want people to know about your stalking ways. And how am I to introduce you two if you won't let me?" Kanthaya forced herself to look into Johan's eyes, but the moment her eyes met his she immediately looked down at her hands and then to Marcy. When she had looked at him... it had felt like he was looking through her. Not completely through her, but just through her eyes... right into her mind. Like he could read her. Kanthaya didn't like that; she didn't like the amount of attention he was giving to her, even if it was minimal. It seemed like a lot. Am I crazy? He's just a weird Richie is all.

 

But Kanthaya didn't like him, not really. However, with the way he was being so nice to Marcy and her... it wasn't like she could simply decide she hated him. So far he was being more useful than creepy... so far...

 

"Kathanya, this is Johan Hawk, a transfer student from England. Johan, this is Kathanya Guard, a fellow Scholar and friend of mine. One of the few people that are able to tolerate me without hitting me once or twice."

 

Kanthaya returned Marcy's grin sincerely, feeling more at ease now, and then turned to Johan when she sensed Marcy fading from the conversation. "Mr. Hawk, it is an honor to meet someone so prestigious as yourself. If you don't mind, I would like to ask you some questions about what you gave Marcy yesterday." Kanthaya's voice was firm but quiet, for a single word from Johan and she wouldn't ask anymore; it was the way a poorling was supposed to be, adhering to a richie's every wish. "She told me you gave her some cherry-flavored liquid in a vial about this size. She said it had amazing healing properties, so amazingly healing they could perhaps cure something like cancer or some permanent scars."

 

Kanthaya didn't care where he got the drug. She didn't care who sold it, how much was left on earth or how much it cost. She cared what was in it now, because that would be what was going to affect Marcy the most in the future. So she blurted out her question before she could stop herself; "Does this amazing medicine have any after-affects, such as withdrawal or dependency?" Marcy hadn't mentioned a withdrawal, but there was a chance it hadn't happened yet, though a small chance. Kanthaya just had to know for sure, if possible.

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Johan stared down at Kanthaya, she was far more typical for a poorling than Marcy was, he gave her a sympathetic smile.

 

"Please, this is a party, I never cared for America's social customs in the first place, you don't have to walk on eggshells around me." His voice had dropped to a lower note and it sounded almost... regretful. "Such intelligence is well spent on people like you, though society may never let you show it."

 

He blinked a few times, seeming to come out of his contemplative mood. He glanced over his shoulder at Marcy as she watched the dancing. He sighed quietly.

 

"Yes," he nodded, answering her question, "its addicting with only one small dose, and the withdrawal is akin to that of crystal meth." He watched Marcy for a moment, the slightest amount of regret in his voice. "I couldn't tell her that though, look how happy she is... It won't kick in for another few hours most likely, and when it does I'll make sure she gets through it."

 

He suddenly seemed to realize he'd done something wrong, "but don't think it's the same as a drug, no," he shook his head. "Once you make it through the withdrawal the addictive element passes out of the system as well, she won't ever crave it again, that's why I could live with myself for not telling her. She'll never have any again, and unless she does, several times in a row, there aren't any lasting side effects."

 

He suddenly stopped talking and stared down at Kanthaya with a smile, "You're a good friend for her, I'm glad she has someone looking out for her, god knows she doesn't look out for herself..."

 

An idea seemed to enter his mind just then as he looked down into Kanthaya's eyes, at least if she didn't turn from his gaze anymore. "If you're really concerned about her, I can give you some to examine, as long as you were to promise on pain of death... that you wouldn't reveal it to anyone else. My uncle may have lost his mind trying to make the drug work for more than a fraction of a percent of people... but it was his legacy, I can't let you go about publishing its ingredients if you can figure them out." He reached into his jacket and pulled out a small, beautiful, crystal vial with a cork in the top. He held it out to her, "this is the substance itself, without the flavoring or anything else to make it more... palatable... it's rather nasty in this form." He quickly took one of her hands and placed it in her palm, closing her fingers over it. "Take it, and take care of Marcy when I can't."

 

He smiled at her once more and bowed his head once in respect. Waiting to see how she reacted to the whole situation. It would be most interesting, to see what she came up with. There was nothing in the world like what she held in that vial, nothing close. It was the best kept secret, and giving it away... was pure anathema to those that knew what it was already. Still... Johan was surprised that he didn't feel guilty about it. Kanthaya seemed to be the type of girl to avoid trouble, she would do as he asked, she wouldn't be found with it, and if she did accidentally spill it on herself or decide to take some... well... life would simply be more interesting.

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"Please, this is a party, I never cared for America's social customs in the first place, you don't have to walk on eggshells around me. Such intelligence is well spent on people like you, though society may never let you show it."

 

Now Kanthaya felt guilty again; of course he wasn't American and of course that would make him different. Marcy had told her he was from England, and apparently in England social classes weren't quite so... exaggerated. Kanthaya had never lived outside of the class system and had no idea what it was like there, but this Richie gave her an idea of what it might be like. Maybe moving to England as an adult wouldn't be so bad... but Marcy wasn't moving, no, her stubborn nature would keep her in America, and Kanthaya didn't really want to leave her friend in such a country.

 

"Yes, it's addicting with only one small dose, and the withdrawal is akin to that of crystal meth." Kanthaya's eyes widened and she dropped her mouth to say something, but he continued before she could. "I couldn't tell her that though, look how happy she is... It won't kick in for another few hours most likely, and when it does I'll make sure she gets through it." Kanthaya looked over at Marcy, then back at the Richie. Oh yeah, that's real helpful for her! Get her addicted to this stuff why don't you! You no good jerk--

 

As though reading her mind, "But don't think it's the same as a drug, no. Once you make it through the withdrawal the addictive element passes out of the system as well, she won't ever crave it again, that's why I could live with myself for not telling her. She'll never have any again, and unless she does, several times in a row, there aren't any lasting side effects."

 

Kanthaya breathed a quiet sigh of relief; he seemed to be telling the truth. She looked at Marcy again. Could this Richie really just want to help her? If what he says is true, he gave her something she's never had before... something we couldn't have dreamed of having and something no one could give her. She turned to look at Johan right as he turned to look at her. He was smiling.

 

"You're a good friend for her, I'm glad she has someone looking out for her, god knows she doesn't look out for herself..." A sad look flashed through Kanthaya's eyes. Looking out for her? That was a great exaggeration. Kanthaya sometimes tried to distract Richies who beat on Marcy, or sometimes offered Marcy a rag when the beating was over with, but she had never been strong enough to be there looking after Marcy. Marcy was just so strong... Kanthaya hadn't felt ready or able to 'look out for' Marcy, or even like it was her job. But now that he put it that way, Kanthaya felt she needed to change. This man, this man who seemed to care about Marcy, he thought someone was looking out for her. Maybe it's time I...

 

"If you're really concerned about her, I can give you some to examine, as long as you were to promise on pain of death... that you wouldn't reveal it to anyone else. My uncle may have lost his mind trying to make the drug work for more than a fraction of a percent of people... but it was his legacy, I can't let you go about publishing its ingredients if you can figure them out." Kanthaya couldn't believe what she was hearing. He was going to let her see the miracle stuff? He was going to let her have some? As Johan presented it to her, her eyes gleamed with hunger again. It was beautiful. The vial that contained it had to be worth a thousand dollars.

 

"This is the substance itself, without the flavoring or anything else to make it more... palatable... it's rather nasty in this form." And before she knew it, he had placed it in her hand. She could almost feel it glow in her imagination. "Take it, and take care of Marcy when I can't." And then he bowed, and Kanthaya made up her mind; she was not going to do nothing anymore. That is, she was going to do something about the treatment of Poorlings. She was still shy and wasn't sure what she'd do, but she would do something.

 

"I promise, on pain of death I won't tell nobody." She didn't even have anyone to tell. In her excitement her voice slipped back to a less-educated style. "This means a lot to me, Mistuh Ha---uh, Johan. I promise I keep it a secret. But, uh... does that mean I can't tell Marcy about it?" She asked, glancing around to make sure Marcy wasn't nearby.

 

That would be strange, if for some reason he wanted to keep its true nature hidden from Marcy. Whatever the case, she was going to find out everything possible about the liquid, and possibly... nah, I won't consume any... there's just not enough. But... maybe that's the only way to find out what it's really like. Well, I'll find out what's in it first. By myself, she decided firmly. Yes, she wouldn't even show the teachers...

 

~~~

 

Joran finally arrived at the party and quietly slipped in, trying not to make a scene. He really didn't feel like attending now, but here he was and there was no turning back. Luckily it seemed a lot of people were resting from the dances so he wouldn't have to start out dancing. He had two beautiful roses, but so far he didn't see his dates anywhere. He wasn't in the mood to flirt anyway. Suddenly he spotted Graham and Rals and his mood lifted. Rals... she was from Australia, and possibly a Werewolf by her earlier scent. Graham was a quiet boxer guy likely from America with a broken--a broken nose?

 

Joran frowned, wondering what had happened. He shrugged to himself and approached, grinning widely as his earlier guilt left him. "Heeeeey Rals, Graham! Enjoying the party? Sorry I'm a bit late, apparently there was a problem with the fishing pond and Student Council wanted someone to go look at it."

Edited by LadyNatasha

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"And..." Johan added after she spoke, "just so you know, if you're tempted to take some... and I suppose I have nothing against that... though the effect on you would be impossible to predict and the chances of it affecting you in the same way as Marcy..." he caught himself off topic, "that vial contains fifty doses of the drug, it's potent stuff, Marcy only had two drops, so don't go drinking the whole thing, I have no idea what that might do..."

 

He considered her other question, to keep it hidden from Marcy. Yes, he needed that, Marcy was the only person he planned on leaving unaffected by his undertakings, at least unaffected in a direct way. He wanted her opinion and her judgement of everything that was about to happen, and he wanted it from her current perspective, that of a human, not a vampire.

 

"And yes, don't let her know you have any. Even though the addiction will pass with the withdrawal, the memory of how good it felt or the desire to take it again just to see what will happen... you couldn't blame her for wanting that. Look what it did for her the first time. Who wouldn't want more, want to share it with everyone who got beaten up and trod upon. That's just Marcy's personality, she couldn't know you have it, and not do something about it, and I can't have every poorling on campus trying some. It would be dangerous if she knew, once your done analyzing it and can give me back what's left... you can tell her everything." It was true, he doubted that Marcy would be able to contain herself if she knew that her friend had fifty doses of the stuff... She'd want to help everyone, that was Marcy, and it was something beautiful about her. But he couldn't have it interfering, not yet.

 

Kanthaya he perceived was a shy girl, she would do as she was told and probably wasn't prone to wild ambitious ideas. She obviously had some means of analyzing the compound he had just given her. She was versatile, she could play many roles in the upcoming game. But she was also a pawn, a safe piece to let wander about. She could set the king in checkmate, but she could also be as harmless as a defensive wall. But no one would link him to her if anything happened, only she herself, and Marcy. Marcy was his, and she wouldn't expose him once she knew. Kanthaya was alone, and he would be the only person she could come to if anything happened, he or Marcy, and Marcy would bring her to him. She was the safest person he could think of to give an atomic bomb so to speak.

 

"To be honest...." he smiled ruefully, "this actually works well for me. My uncle refuses to tell anyone what's in the liquid and though I'm curious, I've never tried having it examined. I'd be interested in knowing what you find out. And..." he added, returning his hands to his side. "If you need access to the lab equipment, alone, or at odd times, just tell Professor Yates that Johan Hawk would be most pleased if you were allowed to continue your work. He's a personal friend of mine, though I never did care much for his classes... an avid golfer though." Professor Yates was head chair of the science department and taught Organic Chemistry and Biochemistry on campus. He was a short, jovial man who could make chemistry sound fun, funny, and down right interesting. Which was why Johan hated the class... he hated to have disappoint the man by only scoring a 77%, a tradition of his he wasn't about to break.

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Once another dance had passed, Marcy found that she had provided enough time for the two of them to discuss whatever it was that she wished. She knew that Kanthaya was into medical things for people while Marcy was into medical things for animals. The medicine that he had used on her, would be far to potent to help an animal, but it could help many people and maybe Kanthaya could figure out a way to make it easier for people to take the medication without going insane.

 

The girl was smart. For being several years younger than she was, she was very smart and Marcy wished that she had her willingness to kiss feet. If she had been that way, then maybe she would already have a P.hD. But then again, she wouldn’t have her life any other way because it made her who she was today.

 

As soon as Marcy let herself think of the past, she found her mind wandering to what had brought her to be so hard and difficult but stopped herself for the memories were far to painful to recall. With a deep breath, she turned around and walked back into the conversation just as Johan’s last words died on the air. He was talking about some professor and one that Marcy had had earlier in the year for the summer. He was everything that Johan had stated and he was the main reason that she loved Chemistry more than she had when she was younger.

 

“It seems that you two have hit it off quickly.” She said in her Southern belle accent. “I do agree with the way that you described Professor Yates. Good man if I do say so myself.” She stated then looked between them wondering what had gone on for Kanthaya to be so excited. Johan had probably told her something about the medicine and if that knowledge was in Kanthaya’s hands, then Marcy was sure that the knowledge would be safe.

 

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Graham smiled slightly at Joran. As obnoxious as he could be, the man was nice and had been helpful to Ridell. He had to give him credit for that. Walking over, he looked at the man who clasped two twin roses, both beautiful and smelling rather sweetly. Graham could catch their scent even though he was a good two feet away, and if you asked him, it was a rather bold smell, though roses normally were a bit more secretive about their scent. He started to feel stupid as he realized that he wasn't just holding them to hold them, but that he was instead looking for his dates. Reaching through his memory, Graham's jaw moved a few times as he mulled thoughts over in his head. One had been clinging to Dan's arm, the other was angry that Tom told her he was going stag, and had decided not to come. Sniffing, he winced slightly and wondered why his nose was being so goddamn... Oh. Oh! His hand reached his nose and felt it, grimacing. Was it possible one of his nostrils had gotten larger? Or perhaps it felt raw because of the break and was just overreacting. Shaking his head, he realized he should've been talking to Joran.

"Yeah, it's fun. One of your dates went with Dan quite happily, the other was supposed to be taken by Tom, but he turned her down and went stag," he said, his voice fairly, quiet, his eyes not holding a concerned of self-conscious expression this time instead the lids above them were slightly relaxed, his brows not arched in the slightest, just calm. It was rare to see a smile on Graham, but this was one moment where he let such an occasion occur. It flickered for a moment hesitantly on his face, before finally staying like a fire that blew in a sudden breeze until the slight subtle wind slackened. He saw how the man had been looking at his nose before, and he felt the need to explain as he ran pale fingers along the bridge of his nose.

"Well, I punched Tom earlier, you see. He called my uncle an alcoholic, and I wanted to defend him even though it was true. And Tom didn't take to it too kindly. I broke his nose, he broke mine. And kneed me in the..." the last part was more of a mumble and more implied rather than stated. "I haven't boxed in awhile. I should start doing it again, because I have a feeling the skills are going to be useful," the black-haired man sighed, looking at Joran sadly.

 

Tom was bored. The Richie girls he had hoped to dance with were all here, but he didn't want to dance with them anymore. A strange thought and feeling began to encompass him, and he couldn't shake it out of his head. For some reason he was feeling like all the girls were the same, that Dan was the same as every other jock, and that, somehow, Ruthlop didn't fit into all that. But that couldn't be true, not really. He fit in. He was just like the rest, right? He played football and hung out with the right people, no he was the right person! He was the person everyone wanted to hang out with, that every geek wished that they were. He was the Richie that was who people hung out with, he didn't hang out with them. Every girl wanted to dance with him. He was Thomas Ruthlop, born January, 1911! He was the same, he fit in! He dictated the standards of fitting in! He wasn't the mafia members, he wasn't even a mafia boss. He was the boss of all bosses, the coolest of the cool, the Tom of the Dans. Dans? Was he doing it again? Was he implying that Dan was the same as every other guy? And yet, this was beginning to feel right. What was wrong with him? Did he need to panic now, or was it just him?

"Tom! Dance with me! Just 'cause you're stag doesn't mean you can't dance!" Ruthlop's blue eyes wavered from his hands and finally found the face of the girl that was looking at him. He would've thought she was pretty, but she didn't have a unique look about her. She was very pretty, but just like every other pretty girl. He recognized her as the captain of the cheer-leading squad. If he went with her... wouldn't that be a little stereotypical? Cliche? Lame? Unvarying? The same? But she was who he was supposed to like, right? No. No! To hell with it, who was was going to tell him what to do? Certainly not the dumbass girl in front of him. And so, just like that, a rebellion had been born enside of Ruthlop. A tiny flicker of fire that perhaps would grow to be a flaming inferno, perhaps be a destructive bonfire. Perhaps.

"No. No ****ing way! I'm not going to!" he shouted defiantly, storming away from the girl who let out an angry and insulted huff before turning on her heel. No, TOm wasn't doing this anymore, but he shure as hell wasn't going to ask Marcy.

Edited by Packgoater

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((Sooooooo sorry for the wait. SO sorry. O.O For those in other RPs I'm in, I'll be getting to them ASAP))

~Kanthaya~

"And... just so you know, if you're tempted to take some... and I suppose I have nothing against that... though the effect on you would be impossible to predict and the chances of it affecting you in the same way as Marcy... that vial contains fifty doses of the drug, it's potent stuff, Marcy only had two drops, so don't go drinking the whole thing, I have no idea what that might do..."

 

Kanthaya nodded virtuously; she didn't intend to take any. She had no reason to take any as she wasn't as beat up as Marcy and didn't have to spend her extra money on family, unlike Marcy. Really Kanthaya had it quite well. However, she did want to know everything about the drug she possibly could. Did that mean taking it was an option? Kanthaya wasn't going to take any, didn't want to take any... yet she did want to. Well, I'll cross that bridge when I come to it. Lots of research to do first...

 

"And yes, don't let her know you have any. Even though the addiction will pass with the withdrawal, the memory of how good it felt or the desire to take it again just to see what will happen... you couldn't blame her for wanting that." Kanthaya had to agree with what Johan was saying; he had Marcy's personality pinned quite well, as though he had known her for a while. Such a dashing man... was he really as creepy as he had seemed at first or was he actually attracted to Marcy in a kinder sort of way? He very much confused Kanthaya, but at the moment she was far more interested in the little vial she was holding than she was in his personality. She slipped the vial into a safekeeping hidden pocket on her outfit.

 

"Once your done analyzing it and can give me back what's left... you can tell her everything." The fact that she would indeed be 'allowed' to tell Marcy everything made Kanthaya feel better, although she wasn't sure if she liked keeping it a secret in the first place. What a night...

 

 

"To be honest.... this actually works well for me. My uncle refuses to tell anyone what's in the liquid and though I'm curious, I've never tried having it examined. I'd be interested in knowing what you find out. And... If you need access to the lab equipment, alone, or at odd times, just tell Professor Yates that Johan Hawk would be most pleased if you were allowed to continue your work. He's a personal friend of mine, though I never did care much for his classes... an avid golfer though."

 

Kanthaya happened to be taking a class from Professor Yates that year, and though she didn't know him well yet she liked him as a teacher. She was glad he was a 'personal' friend of Johan; maybe she could get some info about Johan from him. That was part of her goal right now, though she was still more interested in the vial and its contents.

 

Just then Marcy came over, and Kanthaya smiled. Soon enough she would know just how truthful Johan was being, and what kind of crazy uncle he may have had. And the moment she knew, she'd tell Marcy everything. “It seems that you two have hit it off quickly. I do agree with the way that you described Professor Yates. Good man if I do say so myself.”

 

Kanthaya's smile brightened a bit, and she was happy to hear Marcy use her original voice. "I am glad, then. I have a class under him this semester and hopefully will be able to get to know him better." She paused for a moment in thought, then turned to look between Johan and Marcy. "I'm gonna get something to eat, you two just go ahead and enjoy yourselves. Thank you for your kindness, Johan." The last part she said quietly and quickly, a bit awkwardly for she wasn't used to speaking to Richies by their first name. Then Kanthaya quickly slipped away from the pair and towards the food area. She felt sick and wonderful at the same time, and overall she was simply highly distracted thinking of the possibilities. It was impossible, yet it was true. There was no way Marcy was pulling some sort of awful ruse, no way she had changed sides. No way this Johan guy could have somehow forced her to... no, Marcy was truly happy, and Kanthaya was going to find out just exactly why... down to the very last atom.

 

~~~

 

~Joran~

 

"Yeah, it's fun. One of your dates went with Dan quite happily, the other was supposed to be taken by Tom, but he turned her down and went stag." Joran appeared to be listening closely because he was staring Graham in the eyes quite intently, but in truth he was barely holding his concentration. It did help that Graham was an interesting guy that Joran rather liked being around now, but Joran had many other thoughts to keep him occupied. He subconsciously sniffed when he noticed that Graham's nose was slightly redder than the rest of his face.

 

When Graham smiled, Joran returned the smile with a big grin. Fun. Graham was having fun! Or, he seemed to be. Joran liked it when people who didn't usually have fun actually had fun. he wasn't sure why; he had decided he was simply social like that. A while back he had taken a personality test with for categories, DISC. D for Dominant and work-driven, I for... well, he couldn't remember what, but very people-oriented and not at all very interested in work. That was him, high-energy easily bored and energized by being around people. He hated to admit it, but humans were usually a lot more fun to be around than other Vampires. Werewolves were more fun, too.

 

"Well, I punched Tom earlier, you see. He called my uncle an alcoholic, and I wanted to defend him even though it was true. And Tom didn't take to it too kindly. I broke his nose, he broke mine. And kneed me..." Joran nodded in understanding, his grin fading to a smile as he imagined Graham breaking Tom's nose. Yeah, I saw him running bye. You got him pretty good! Speaking of which I gotta go talk to him later....

 

"I haven't boxed in awhile. I should start doing it again, because I have a feeling the skills are going to be useful." Joran saw the sad look on Graham's face and returned it with a sly look. "Heeeey, I could join you! In training, I mean. Really, there are hours of the day when I have nothing to do and if you happen to have a free hour I don't know much about boxing but I could learn! I need to work out too, being skinny and short doesn't work forever no matter how good you know you look or how strong you really are," Joran said, obviously implying he knew he was good looking but also knew he hadn't had his growth-spurt yet. It came a bit later for Vampires than humans it seemed.

 

"Whaddaya say?" Suddenly Joran realized he hadn't really been paying Rals attention, so he turned to her and presented both roses towards her. One was red and the other was white. "Choose one please, or take them both," he said, "as a gift for tolerating my earlier rudeness when I was in a bit of a hurry to get two dates that I didn't even get while randomly helping a poorling I guess which by the way I smell here but haven't seen."

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"Nice meeting you," Johan waved after her. It had been nice meeting her, wonderful in fact, though he wondered now if he'd just bitten off more than he could chew. He hadn't intended on babysitting anyone, not even Dana. But perhaps he could work this for the best. The thought suddenly crossed his mind why am I willing to risk so much just to find out what Marcy's opinion is, her pure opinion, unclouded by the knowledge that I'm a vampire... and suddenly he wasn't sure, he simply felt he had to know.

 

Perhaps it was because she reminded him of his mother, whose approval he'd always sought and whose opinions and words he'd always dreamed of hearing, but never had because she had died shortly after his birth. Perhaps he loved her, though that was a silly idea... he couldn't love her, he wouldn't because he knew she would hate him in the end, when he told her the full truth of all things. Maybe he just wanted a taste of her sweet blood, he couldn't deny the animal hunger he kept hidden all these years was aroused whenever she was around, but... he hoped he was beyond the stage where such things could control his actions.

 

His thoughts were interrupted by a high-pitched beep from his watch, something shrill and small, but only noticeable by himself, other vampires, and small dogs (werewolves as well, though Johan had too little experience with them to all but guess that they could hear it too). The small noise, gone in a second, was foreshadowing a much larger similar noise, that would happen in ten seconds.

 

Johan turned to smile at Marcy, cupping one hand over each ear in turn as if scratching the back of his head as he inserted his earplugs and virtually all sound from the room vanished from his perception. Indeed, he couldn't even hear his own voice as he replied to her.

 

He pointed after Anthaya, "She's a nice girl, has a heart for others, not quite as vocal about it as you are my dear." That... was an understatement, the two girls were polar opposites when it came to how they stood up for what they thought was right. "I should start watching her too..." he let that comment hang for a moment before quickly adding, "kidding kidding... I'm not that... uhh... creepy? strange? un socially educated? there are a lot of terms my poor aunt uses when I head home over the summers. She gives me lessons in proper mannerisms and the like you know, but I never...." And there it was, the shrill note so high that no human could comprehend it, ringing out in a painful way, even to Johan who had prepared with his lead earplugs for the occasion.

 

The device attached to the underside of Big Ben the Grandest of Pianos, emitted the noise, which then was broadcast without the knowledge of the orchestra, who were all human, over the speaker system throughout the ball room and even a good ways out into the gardens. Any non-human with acute hearing would hear an intensely painful noise... for two seconds, and as Johan turned his attention suddenly to the rest of the room, he intended to see who flinched or covered their ears, or screamed etc... and those ... "people" ... he would know where the players who he had just invited to the game... of life.

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Marcy waved after Kanthaya with a broad, friendly smile on her face. She liked the girl and saw most of what she was two years ago within her. Innocence for the most part, drive, and luck. Marcy did pray that the girl’s luck didn’t run out like hers had…she wouldn’t wish that pain on anyone other than those that deserved it. Kanthaya wasn’t one who deserved it. Once she received her degree, she would be able to do great things in the world and maybe even solve all forms of sickness. The only problem with that, is that she would need some sort of increased protection for those that came up with the best ideas were usually killed or they disappeared.

 

After watching Kanthaya for a moment, she turned to Johan who had begun speaking yet again. It wasn’t that she was tired of speaking with him, she just couldn’t figure out what she thought about him just yet. She had seen him several times around campus and thought him an indifferent prig, but it seemed that he wasn’t…at least for now. One thing that she had to be careful of, was to be sure that he wouldn’t get underneath her skin. If he did, then she was going to be lost again to try and find a way to live with hatred towards any person who called themselves a Richie.

 

It took her a moment to figure out what was setting her on edge and that was the fact that Johan’s voice seemed to get slightly louder like one would do if your ears were plugged. She had realized the sensation before, but her realizations stopped when he commented on Kanthaya. “One of the few left that truly have a kind and untainted heart.” Her words held an uncharacteristic amount of sadness within them before she looked out at the dance floor. “And for your information, I couldn’t care less what you do. You are old enough to make your own decisions are you not? And you are a Richie therefore you are politically immune towards any class lower than yourself.”

She was going to continue talking, but there was an odd mix of groans and a few screams that echoed around the ball room. It drew the attention of several of the students, but most thought it to be spiked food, but Marcy thought it could be something else. However, she was probably just overreacting.

 

Carmandy and Xander had been dancing for some time to stay away from humans and keep from having to interact with their respective parents. Both had undying devotion to their Clan/Pack as well as those that they respected, but tonight, they didn’t feel like doing much more than dancing and enjoying the presence of someone who wouldn’t judge the other. Carmandy allowed herself to relax into the calm and gently guidance of Xander’s arms as he lead her effortlessly through various movements that went between complex and smooth in various patterns.

 

It was easy for Carmandy to dance with him because they had been dancing together since they had know each other. It was a friendship that she would die to save. As they danced together their last dance, she spun out away from him gracefully, her silver dress swaying around her ankles before she stopped in front of Graham and Joran. However, she didn’t look at them, but instead seemed to be looking beyond them. With a curt nod of her head, she turned back to Alexander and was about to bow, when a piercing, torturous, tearing sound entered her ears causing a small scream to escape her. Even after the sound was over her heart still beat within her ears, and her head ached as if she had been hit by a bear. To her dismay, the result was the same with several people around the entire room. Even the Betas and Alphas were affected, not to mention the rest of her pack whom had released strangled groans and growls to show their distaste. In a moment, she walked outside with her mother and father along with those of their pack that were young enough to be at the dance and to be students. It didn’t reduce the group very much and the young werewolves put on a scene of joviality making it seem like a joke to scare their friends. But once they were in the garden, Carmandy started to growl like her parents did when they were upset.

 

Not only that, but her parents were growling and so was everyone else. Most of them had their hair standing slightly stiffer than it would be naturally. “What the heck was that?!” Cried several of them until a slightly louder growl emanated from Carmandy’s father, Rollo. If she had been in wolf form, her ears would have immediately gone back in submission to her father.

 

“Enough, it wasn’t a natural sound and we all know that. Now think.” He stated calmly as his wife started to pace behind him angry that someone would even try to harm their pack. But the thing that seemed to bother the Alphas and Betas was the fact that it hadn’t just harmed them, but it had harmed the Vampyres as well. That’s what scared them.

 

“We need to consult with the great Leaders of the Clan and we will submit what we have found to the pack. For now, steady your hearts, settle your hackles, and calm your minds.” With that, Rollo dismissed the Pack and allowed them to go back to the party. They kept up the jest and tried to speak with a few Vampyres that they knew but they were keeping on a visage of joviality as well. Therefore that meant that there was nothing that they could tell their fellow immortals.

 

Xander was enjoying the evening. He was able to dance with someone who was used to his leading gestures and just the slightest pressure from a fingertip brought an immediate response from his dancing partner. It was a beautiful thing to have such a brilliant dance partner who rivaled his own prowess. They had been friends for a rather time so it was easy for them to read each other’s minds, but when she spun away from him, he felt confused, normally she didn’t decide to end a dance right as the song was ending; she usually waited until the song was finished. But she nodded her head to the young men in front of her, both of whom he recognized, then turned to bow to him just as he heard a piercing noise that at first was quiet, then took over his entire mind and being. It was so incredibly painful, that he let out a strangled grunt just as he heard Carmandy’s scream as well as several groans and screams for others. He couldn’t tell what was going on, but the pain was over and he was able to straighten up.

 

The werewolves were the first to walk out of the room and they did so without any problems it seed except for a joking manner. Xander watched as Carmandy walked out of the room and several of his “friends” walked over to see what in the world was a matter with him. Of course he was unable to tell them other than it was just a prank that several people had gotten together to freak out those that didn’t know about the prank.

 

He kept laughing until he excused himself at a nod from both Jamila and Zebulon who both had pained looks on their faces as if the ring had not yet left their heads. When Xander walked by Carmandy and a few other werewolves, he noticed a wild look in their eyes. The same that he had seen when they were cornered in a competition that continuously occurred between their two kinds.

 

In a moment, it seemed that at least a quarter of the population in the ballroom exited to a separated room. They were all laughing and making fun of what had happened and the looks on everyone’s faces, but once the door was shut, the room became deathly quiet. Each Vampyre looked to the head of the room where Zebluon and Jamila stood leaning on Montague and Aloysius for support. They seemed very shaken which was not to be met with surprise. Both were very old and the oldest living male and female in the entire world. New instances of pain always brought them a sudden shake because of their age.

 

Xander walked closer and asked through the crowd if they knew anything. Overall, there were at least 50 Vampyres in the room alone. Several of them were students, while others were guests and professors. He moved swiftly and answers were given swiftly until he finally ventured to Zebulon and Jamila. In front of them stood Yasu whose usually kind eyes were hard. She was equally uncomfortable with what was going on, but she wouldn’t let anyone come closer to Zebulon and Jamila until they were calmed down.

 

Once the two Leaders were calmed down enough to be able to speak without seeming to be shaken, around two minutes, they started to speak calmly as they entered the crowds. Their presence amongst their people was comforting to those that stood in the crowd. When their fears were dispelled on it being an attack, they filed back out into the ballroom just as Rollo and Vicotoria entered with their Betas.

 

“Someone did attack us I’m afraid, but in an indirect way. They used to do this when I was young. Find a way to see who is what amongst the crowd. Actually, the Christians used the symbol of a fish in the ground. At one time, there were guards who picked up on it and captured us. It seems that we either have an enemy, or a being that now knows of our existence and may very well know each of our faces. We must exercise all caution.” Zeblon and Jamila stated, their voices becoming one as they spoke. When they were finished, everyone bowed to one another, including Xander ( the youngest one there ) and they exited the room with smiles on their faces.

 

Marcy watched all that was going on with increasing wonder. It seemed that it really was a joke. But one that seemed to cause real pain on the faces of others? Now that was rather odd. “Do you know what that was all about Johan?" There was a devilish smile on her face. “I shouldn’t be so suspicious now should I?” She asked looking at him before noticing a glint of silver in his ears. She walked by him, not pardoning herself, and not indicating that he should follow.

 

Something wasn’t right. Things were piecing together and she couldn’t understand why! Why did he choose her? Why did those people cry out? Why did he give Kathanya that medicine? Why in the world did he give HER the medicine? Why HER?!?!?!?!?!

 

Marcy stepped outside quickly trying to clear her mind. She could still think properly at the moment, but for some reason, all of these questions welled up inside of her and she couldn’t understand why in the world she had so many? Why not just accept everything as it is? She still couldn’t figure out why in the world he had chosen her and Kanthaya. Why not one of the other Richie Girls? How about Dana? Dana seemed like an okay girl. One that was rather intense and could keep up with him and his highclass ways.

 

Why does everything have to be so dang complicated?! In her frustration, Marcy had taken a glass that she had taken a drink of and then threw it against the wall of the building.

 

“But then again…” she muttered and a joyful glint entered her eyes. Those Richies had suffered if not only for two seconds. They had suffered and she had enjoyed that. She shouldn’t have, but she did, at least the pain of those that she had never met and hated. Oh God! What is going on with me? Two years ago, she wouldn’t have hated a human being THIS much, not so much that she would enjoy seeing them in pain.

 

Since everyone was inside except for a few, Marcy allowed herself to walk slowly on the grass, even if it was back and forth it didn’t matter. It was as she was walking that memories, painful angry memories appeared if only for a moment. Those were the reason that she hated the Richies and their society and those two beings beloved to her were the reason that she was determined to reach the top of the food chain and right all the wrongs that had not only been done to her, but to the living, dead, and unborn.

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Rals turned and watched the dancers while Graham chatted with Joran, and so she was surprised when Joran turned and presented both roses towards her. One was red and the other was white. "Choose one please, or take them both," he said, "as a gift for tolerating my earlier rudeness when I was in a bit of a hurry to get two dates that I didn't even get while randomly helping a Poorling I guess which by the way I smell here but haven't seen." Rals picked out the white rose, which was more to her taste. Red roses were very outdated, and anyway, they reminded her of blood. She didn't exactly buy Joran's story about a fishing pond, but it wasn't exactly her place to start asking weird questions, especially in front of Graham. Out of the corner of her eye, Rals spotted all of her pack members awkwardly hanging back, mingling in the crowd in their well-made clothes.

And then the noise happened. Rals clapped hands over her ears and made a loud groan, as the sound hurt her ears so much. She just wanted it to stop. And then it was over. She watched as a bunch of people, about a quarter, started to exit the ballroom, and though they were joking about it, Rals noted all of the people. "Sorry, I need some fresh air." she said, and nodded her head to all of her pack members. Once out in the gardens, Rals's hair bristled. "We've been discovered. Someone planted that noise to detect all of us. Only werewolves and vampires would be harmed by that pitch. Now, I've noted most of the people we saw exiting the party. Let's go back in, and act naturally. We'll figure this out, and I'll personally tear out the culprit's throat!"

--

Arata covered his ears and gave out a small howl of pain as the noise echoed through the hall. He was right above the piano, the building acted as a tuning fork of sorts. After the noise was over, Arata's ears were still ringing. Peering through the glass ceiling, he saw that Carmandy was exiting the building, along with a bunch of people. Were they all werewolves and vampires? Anyway, he'd better talk to Carmandy. Maybe she could explain the horrible noise. Arata climbed down the building as quickly as he could, and he waited until Carmandy's group exited the party building. "What the heck was that?!" Several of the group cried aloud, and Arata folded his ears back in fear as the Alpha, or, who he assumed was the Alpha, growled loudly.

“Enough, it wasn’t a natural sound and we all know that. Now think. We need to consult with the great Leaders of the Clan and we will submit what we have found to the pack. For now, steady your hearts, settle your hackles, and calm your minds.”

Arata slipped down, perching onto a ledge. "Carmandy... What was that?" he asked Carmandy, even though it would attract the attention of the whole pack.

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Johan watched the crowd intently as if Marcy had just dropped off the face of the earth. But she wouldn't be bothered her attention would be drawn any second. And then it happened. Even with the earplugs the compulsion to flinch was hard to suppress. He frowned deeply... there were so many... so many! He had only barely scratched the surface in his research and stalking. This was... incredible.

 

His mind was racing already as the non humans separated from the humans, and then from one another into two groups for the most part, he guessed that would be... what? Vampires and Werewolves? He knew at least one person in each group that was one or the other so that theory held water.

 

Suddenly his blood chilled just a little. The two elders had been effected, the dean and his wife... And they were in the vampire group, and they looked... old. If a vampire looked old... they must be ancient! Johan had killed his father who was only a little over five hundred and had looked like he was in his thirties.... how old must these two be? well over a thousand no doubt... and older than himself. This could ruin everything, they could find him out, they could be strong enough to beat him, smart enough to trap him, experienced enough to catch him at his own game.

 

Johan removed his earplugs as Marcy turned to walk out of the room. He placed them in his pocket while his mind worked over this new development. He suddenly smiled, and would have laughed out loud if he hadn't restrained himself.

 

Wonderful! Wonderful! Johan's life had just gone from mildly boring to full blown, life threateningly interesting! He turned on his heel and headed after Marcy, her last suspicious question ringing in his ears.

 

Fortunately everyone was distracted still and talking, and Marcy was in a place secluded for the most part, it was time to talk, time to hit start, the big red button, to drop the nuke, to swallow the ocean... it was time for the game to begin, and Johan would start... by risking his life.

 

"Marcy, you have questions, I have answers, now listen closely, because I'm going to tell you the truth, be silent as a dove and as shrewd as a snake, and remember what I say because when I'm through... you will make the most important choice of your life."

 

Johan leaned back against the building, checking, most obviously, to see if anyone else was within hearing range, human or not, and it appeared they were safe.

 

"You are Marcy Livingstone, a smart girl, who suspects me of many things, but who is confused nonetheless. You are Marcy Livingstone, the girl who has no allies, no friends, no family, no money, only her wits and her will to survive, yet you are the one who goes out with Johan Hawk and who he tells the truth to. You are Marcy Livingstone, the person I've chose to be judge, jury, and if you choose, executioner, of the devil himself. Marcy Livingstone, the girl who drank the forbidden elixir the magical miracle fluid, the vile beauty that has caused the destruction of nations. This is the truth and in this I do not lie, though you won't understand until later. But enough about you, now is the truth about me."

 

"I am Johan Hawk, the one who watches the watchers. I always have a plan, I don't make mistakes, I don't forget, every move I make and breath I take is calculated.I never quit, I always win, I never stop manipulating. I'm the most dangerous person who's ever touched you. And... I chose you, out of every person I've ever met, Marcy Livingstone is my choice, my choice to judge the devil, the liar; my choice to give the magical potion to, my choice, the choice of the one who only makes important choices."

 

Johan suddenly took hold of Marcy's hand and stared right into her eyes. "You are different than the others. You live on a different level than others around you. Your mind is capable of understanding the real truth. You alone can give me what I seek, the answer the question that no one can ask. But I warn you Marcy Livingstone. If you choose to seek the truth you may not like what you find, and so I give you this choice, right here and now, think about it most carefully."

 

Johan released his grip on her hand, this was it, this was the opening move, the game was about to begin and he only needed her permission to play it.

 

"I'm giving you the choice right now. If you choose, I can tell you the whole truth, everything about me, about you, about the world that you don't know. I can reveal every one of my plans, every lie and every truth I've ever told. You could know the most beautiful truths and the most decadent evils that exist. I can show you what no one but me could. And I can do this right now, and prove it to you, prove everything I say to be true. And in one horrible moment you would understand, and I wonder if you could bear to live."

 

"Or..."

 

"Or I can show you the truth. I could bring you with me on an adventure that will turn your whole world inside out. You can come with me and experience every beautiful and wretched truth. You can understand the world as no one else but you could. I chose you because I know you could survive this, and you could use it to change the world. Marcy Livingstone, the earth shaker. The political system you seek to change now pales in comparison with what you would see, what you would hear, what you would feel, if you choose to let me show you the truth, instead of telling you."

 

He paused, letting all that sink in for a moment.

 

"Before you decide... know this... if you choose the first choice, you will remain Marcy Livingstone, with new knowledge, but the same life, now stricken to walk out the rest of your days realizing that everything you thought was important... is meaningless and empty. You will live the rest of your life in the shadow of this truth that you could never tell anyone else, that no one else would believe, that would get you killed. And I... I will be dead before the sunrise if you choose this, and I'm not speaking metaphorically."

 

"But the second choice is not as perfect as it sounds. If you choose to let me show you the truth then you become my slave. You do as I say, when I say, you watch what I show you, and you listen to what I give you to hear. You learn what I teach you, and you put me ahead of anything else in your life, your family, your needs, your wants, your dreams, everything, you are completely mine... for one month, that is how long it will take to show you everything. I take no pleasure in requiring this of you, it is simply the only way to show you the truth. I can only promise that I will take care of you and everything dear to you, at the cost of my own life, if you submit to me, and let me show you that which you can only dream of."

 

Johan took a step away from her. "You hold your future and mine in your hands, and I will accept either choice from you. But you have to choose one or the other. This is the only thing I will ever force you to do. There is no third way, there is no choice to back out. I chose you, now you must choose me."

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Marcy had just turned around wondering what she was doing spending time with such a weirdo as Johan when the one person that she was so confused about stepped up to her. Anger could be seen flashing in her eyes as well as desperation and sadness, but the former two were disguised deeply by the latter. “What?” she asked harshly seeming to revert to her usual self instead of the visage that she had had to put on to allow herself to have a good time mesmerizing the Richies and embarrassing them as well.

 

When he told her that he was going to be telling her the truth, she placed her hands on her hips and her expression was one that was clearly not amused. He was know for his theatrics, but something about the way that he was talking, made her think that maybe he was being serious. Was he proposing? That would be a huge decision. To marry a Richie immediately gave her total immunity and sky rocketed her chances to get back at the Richies as well as to be able to change the government one step at a time.

 

You are Marcy Livingstone, a smart girl, who suspects me of many things, but who is confused nonetheless. You are Marcy Livingstone, the girl who has no allies, no friends, no family, no money, only her wits and her will to survive, yet you are the one who goes out with Johan Hawk and who he tells the truth to. You are Marcy Livingstone, the person I've chose to be judge, jury, and if you choose, executioner, of the devil himself. Marcy Livingstone, the girl who drank the forbidden elixir the magical miracle fluid, the vile beauty that has caused the destruction of nations. This is the truth and in this I do not lie, though you won't understand until later. But enough about you, now is the truth about me.

 

Nope. That wasn’t it. He was talking about her now…and what he was saying was making her uncomfortable. Not only the fact that he kept repeating her name, but he called her smart, stated her situation so clearly and even included himself in the equation of who she was. But the most disturbing at that moment, was the fact that he called her the judge and jury possibly even the executioner of the devil? Was he referring to himself? The forbidden elixir, miracle fluid, what was he….the medicine…

 

I am Johan Hawk, the one who watches the watchers. I always have a plan, I don't make mistakes, I don't forget, every move I make and breath I take is calculated.I never quit, I always win, I never stop manipulating. I'm the most dangerous person who's ever touched you. And... I chose you, out of every person I've ever met, Marcy Livingstone is my choice, my choice to judge the devil, the liar; my choice to give the magical potion to, my choice, the choice of the one who only makes important choices.

The one who watches the watchers? Okay, so he was a double creeper watching the creepers? Plans, what was it with him and plans, but what he said made sense. Everything he had done so far was as he said, calculated almost to the very dot. As to never quitting, well that she had yet to see for there hadn’t been a situation but she didn’t like the manipulation. That’s what he had been doing to her and he was openly admitting it, or was he?

 

When he mentioned that he was the most dangerous person to ever touch her, her mind, which she was trying to allow to be open and hear him out, quickly closed for a moment. No, you aren’t the most evil. She thought before catching back onto what he was saying which was a repeat of what he had said earlier. He had chosen her as a judge, jury and executioner….why? AND it didn’t help that he called her important….now she was confused, upset and even more confused than she had been all day and all day yesterday…this was getting annoying.

 

When he took her hand, she did resist him this time and kept tension there. At the moment, she didn’t want him to be touching her for he was worrying her. His eyes…so blue though as they looked into her own, and he told her things that no one had ever told her in her entire life. Along with that, came a warning as he released her hand. What was this guy about?

 

At that moment, he went through two different choices that she could make which she listened to intently wondering what in the world it was that he could be talking about. Choices….too many choices!

 

It was hard for her to understand what was going on, but what he was saying…he had never lied to her thus far so why would he be lying now? The first choice, wait, why was she considering this? Why? Could he really even give her all of that power? Could he really teach her all of this could he really?

 

“Can you really do this…wait, what am I saying…you haven’t lied to me so far, and who cares really? I’m just a poorling and if anything goes wrong, no one will care.”

 

She was hurt, confused and she could only think of what Johan was saying as a lie, at least most of it. “I’m….I’m trusting you Johan…but God help you if my family gets injured or if they are no longer able to feed themselves because of what you are making me do to get what I want.” She said and then turned around to hide her face. No one should see her like this.

 

This was confused, torn, angry, hurt, destroyed, uplifted…it was the Marcy that stayed hidden and for some reason, this Marcy was coming out and she had no idea why. It didn’t help that she started to crave that medicine again as he started to speak, but this was weird. He had hit every nerve and fiber of her being and her body rang with his praise and warnings as well as his gift that was not so much a gift as it was getting her to be another creepy stalker. But if that could earn her the world…

 

Marcy, the Earth Shaker. It had a very nice ring to it.

 

“Besides, wouldn’t want you to die. You’re the creepiest stalker out there in the world for as far as I know and I wouldn’t want the world deprived of that now would I?” she said still turned away from him. A small laugh escaped her, and a sniffle could be heard. “The only thing I ask, is that you allow me to keep up with my studies as well as sending my brothers their money…” her voice was almost in a begging tone, but it was also firm. If he was going to play this game, then so was she.

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((o.o Rak no wait for me to reply? Impatience Impatience ^^))

~Joran~

 

Joran was relieved when Rals did in fact accept a rose; he had been worried she wouldn't. Not that it would make much difference in his life, except it would hurt. Joran wasn't really used to being rejected by anyone his age (that is, anyone who looked his age), and he thought Rals was too interesting to give up on... okay, he liked her, but if she was a Werewolf he knew he couldn't do more than just admire her. He also liked that she chose the white rose; that meant he got to hold on to the red rose, which he preferred over white.

 

He grinned at her, again revealing his slightly-elongated canine fangs. He suddenly realized that he had mentioned 'smelling' the poorling in front of Graham, but it didn't worry him too much; what was the chance that the introverted dude would actually be anything other than human? And if he was, what was the chance of him being a Vampyre or American Werewolf? And if he was, what was the chance of him knowing for sure that Joran was a Vampire? AND if he DID know, would he even care? Joran wasn't a bit worried, though he may have been a bit naive.

 

And then it happened.

 

Joran was only nineteen and had never experienced anything like it in his entire life. Being raised in one of the richest classes, Joran had never actually felt real physical pain. The occasional tripping down the stairs or whipping from his father or sparring with another Vampire, but nothing real. He wasn't prepared for it; how could he be? All the spoiling and restrictions on his life suddenly became very real... and very deadly.

 

He was half a second slow to react, and by that time he had lost control. His eyes widened and turned an extremely dark purple, betraying the red behind the colored lenses. They became bloodshot as though he hadn't slept in weeks. His entire body cringed at once and a loud shriek erupted from his mouth, louder than any scream or groan a human could make; so great was the scream it for certain caused some humans to cringe. But that wasn't the last of it; as the noise continued, Joran found he was losing his sanity.

 

His fangs grew to their full length and his skin paled in the extremes, his fingernails hardening all at once and his muscles increasing under his skin. Instinct took over and he lashed out, swiping a left hand in a raking manner at Graham's face. Whether he hit or not, the next thing he did was race straight through the crowd and out the nearest window, breaking through it without a second thought, eyes wide opened. Lucky for him the party wasn't second-floor. He ran, with unnatural speed, away. Far away, his mind reeling in pain and his ears ringing. He was running so fast that when he came upon the pond he simply ran right across it; it was only about ten feet wide and it took him two steps to clear it. He kept running until he was on the other side of campus, and then outside of campus past and over any fences or barriers that would stop him. He ran yet a bit further until he found he was in a patch of trees, where he backed up to the largest one and slid down to a sitting position.

 

His mind was empty of any sentient thought and he simply stared straight ahead, breathing as fast as a frightened rabbit though much louder, his hands gripping the tree and his body shaking. The ringing slowly died away from his ears and he realized what he had done. No human could do that, and he had done it with everyone watching. He had broken a window and disappeared... oh yeah, after raking Graham's face. There was no way he could return to the college, not unless his Grandfather somehow covered for him. Like he would do that. From what spies like Steel had said, some of the professors were possibly Vampyres, and if they had seen Joran do that... there was no mistaking him for anything but a Vampyre or Vampire. Certainly they would know which, if they had lived for so long.

 

Joran brought his knees up to his chest and bit his lip, biding himself not to let a tear flow from his eyes. His Grandfather would kill him for this, no doubt. A moment later he realized that he had already cried, but when he wiped his face he only saw blood. The blood from his lip ran down his chin and he lowered his head to hide his face in his knees. He had no idea what to do. "Dad," he whispered in a raspy voice, "why'd you have to leave me here?"

 

~~~

~Kanthaya~

 

Kanthaya had been about to peacefully take the first bite of a small Asian sandwich when suddenly screams and groans filled the room. She almost dropped her plate as she spun around to see what was wrong. Half the people in the room were covering their ears or shaking their heads, and the other half looked as shocked as her. Kanthaya gasped as one guy ran through a window. He ran too fast for her to tell who it was, and by the time she looked back at everyone else they were all exiting or standing around confused. Even a member of the Orchestra left. She suddenly remembered Marcy and searched for her, but by the time she found her Marcy was already leaving. Johan was going after her. Kanthaya bit her lip, deciding Marcy probably didn't need help as much as some others, and so she ran towards the garden where she had seen many others run. She arrived at the door and opened it to see many frustrated faces and hear... growling? No, just more groaning she was certain.

 

She dipped her head like a good poorling and turned to the nearest people. "Is there any way I can assist you?" She asked the Richies. After all, it was her job as a Poorling to either be helpful or stay out of the way. The pain on their faces... but all at once? What had happened that she had missed? She was very confused and a bit frightened, but there had to be some way she could make herself useful... once again, she was lucky. Whatever had happened, it hadn't hurt her in the least.

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Xander returned to the room just in time to see a creature that in no way looked human break through a window. His eyes were slower than the two ancient ones behind him and their mouths formed the one word that he had not wanted to hear. Vampire. It was spelled much like the old ways of Vampire, but the newer Vampires had decided to distinguish themselves from their progressive kin. The word was now pronounced something like Vampeer....it didn't make any sense, but the word itself sent chills down his spine.

 

Xander heard a gentle whisper beside him as Yasu moved closer to him to say something but both Montague and Aloysius were alarmed at the request of both Zebulon and Jamila. "Silence both of you. He is far past his time of being protected and both of you are like worried hens." Came the voice of Jamila. When she became irritated, it was best to be quiet and just say yes ma'am. Her husband was actually the one that was slower to inflict punishment and she the faster to.

 

Yasu leaned closer to Xander and whispered in his ear. "They wish you to follow the beast. You are allowed to release yourself and take pleasure in the hunt. Do not kill." she stated. Xander merely smiled for the do not kill part was something as a joke between the Vampyres. He walked out through the door telling people that it was probably some experiment that had been conducted on an unexpecting Richie as a joke. He would get to the bottom of it like all good photgraphers and quickly left the room. Once he was sure he was out of sight, he kicked into a speedy run his ears training on the distinct footstep of a Vampire. It was silent as death, but there was just a slight enough amount of weight to make the sound difficult to pick up on, and easy to follow.

 

It took him quite some time to find the young man, but the breathing is what brought him in. he had lived long enough to determine how breathing rates were between beings and this breathing was fast and frightened like a young rabbit. He guessed that the Vampire would be young for a reaction like that would have to be from one younger than at least 50 years old. By the scent that he now picked up on because of the fear, he could also smell testosterone and a familiar scent that was carried on another human that he had come to find rather interesting.

 

His steps were deathly quiet as he walked into what he noticed as a very sad scene. The young man who had his head buried in his knees was asking his 'father' whom Xander presumed was deceased, why he had left him there. That voice... His skin was deathly pale and his hands were like claws. Muscles bulged underneath his suit as Xander allowed himself to step on a leaf as he quickly stepped in front of Joran, but stayed back about 10 ft.

 

"You..." Xander chuckled to himself, fangs appearing slowly. They weren't as long as his elders' fangs, but they were long enough to come over his lip when he stopped smiling. "I can't believe it Joran...you are a Vampire." He said the name as it was supposed to be pronounced but he couldn't understand why he didn't feel threatened. Was that what he had planned or what? What did Jamila and Zebulon intend for him to do? Were they relying on his intuition? Maybe.

 

Xander kept his distance, but lowered his position so as to not seem a threat. Despite all of their advancements in technology, there were still some instincts that never changed.

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((LL, Darky posted something ye should read in the OoC :3))

 

~Joran~

 

Joran had been happily crying all by himself, wallowing in self-pity and wondering what on earth he was going to do, when suddenly a leaf crackled. Joran stopped breathing but kept his face hidden between his knees. Of course they had found him. He managed a dry swallow as another drop of blood fell from his chin, this one from the bloody tears he had been crying. Baby.

 

"You..."

 

Joran slowly looked up, recognizing the voice as that of another student. He felt sick when he saw Xander, fangs and all, standing before him. Xander... he spend a lot of time with Carmandy. Was she a Vampyre too? Joran didn't care. His breathing returned and he tried to slow it, forcing himself to stop crying and shaking. His body felt cold, but yet Xander didn't look appetizing in the least.

 

Joran lowered his eyes when Xander laughed, his mind reeling. What would he do? What was he supposed to do? For once in his life, the first time in his life, Joran wished Steel would magically show up and kill all of his problems. Of course, Steel didn't. Joran knew that even if Steel was nearby and watching, all he wanted was Joran's death and he would be laughing instead of helping.

 

"I can't believe it Joran... you are a Vampire."

 

'Tch' was the only sound Joran made in reply as he kept a wary eye on Xander's feet and tried to think straight. The sound carried with it some anger and some fear, but also some hopelessness. The screaming sound from earlier still reeled in his head, and he wondered if Xander and other Vampyres had made that happen. He didn't doubt it, but it still shocked him that they'd go to such extremes and do it in the middle of a party. Joran Baalgruf, member of the Student Council and one of the only guys who was friends with jocks, geeks and goths, a straight-A student who loved to joke around and be the center of attention---yes, he was a Vampire.

 

Joran finally lifted his head to look at Xander's face. Blood ran down Joran's cheeks and chin, from his lip and his eyes. Had his heart not been racing so, perhaps he would have stopped bleeding. He saw Xander lower his position, but he still hadn't planned on what to say and found his very body shaking again. It would have been embarrassing had Joran not been scared to death. But what was there to be scared of? Nothing Xander could do would be as bad as what Joran's Grandfather Ulfan would do, especially now that Joran had been discovered. There was no way he could escape now, and the one being he had so hoped to please would now want him dead. Steel would be the one to do it, if not Xander... and Steel would do it very, very slowly.

 

"G-go on, Xander," Joran managed, suddenly finding he was shivering of cold as well as nerves. "Kill me, please. Let the few ins-stincts you have l-left go free." Joran's body stopped shaking as he realized his fate was better this way than it would be otherwise. His eyes were sad and betrayed his young age as he stared at Xander. Still he sat where he was, not moving. "I never meant to be this way, never meant to hurt them, but I had to," he managed quietly, "but... after tonight I'll be dead anyway. Please make it quick." The most pathetic last request he could ever have thought up. Not for the first time, Joran hated himself for being only nineteen. He let out a small sigh and rested his chin on his knees, wondering how Xander wanted to get rid of a spy like him. He realized he was still holding the red rose in his left hand, though now it had a bit of blood on it. Giving it a quick lick to prove his point, he dropped it and let his gaze watch it fall. He wasn't sure if he wanted to watch his own death, after all. What would death be like? He had no idea, for he really hadn't thought he'd die for another thousand years or so...

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Rals watched in horror as Joran reacted in the worst way. He was definitely a vampire. She dashed out of the side door, and followed his wild run across the gardens, swearing because she couldn't run as fast in her tight dress. "G-go on, Xander," Joran managed, suddenly finding he was shivering of cold as well as nerves. "Kill me, please. Let the few ins-stincts you have l-left go free." Rals's eyes flashed. I won't let it end like this. Her hair bristled, and she crouched down on all fours. She could always replace the dress. Placing the white rose on the ground, Rals began to change. Her body grew larger and larger, and then sprouted fur. She was almost full changed when she heard Joran's next comment. "I never meant to be this way, never meant to hurt them, but I had to," he commented, quietly, "but... after tonight I'll be dead anyway. Please make it quick." Rals was done with her transformation, but she waited for a moment. Joran had the other rose, the red one, which had a bit of blood on it. He let the rose fall to the ground, as if that was the end of his life. Rals growled loudly, and clumsily grasped the white rose in her mouth, ignoring the thorns on the stem. She was huge, but the other human guests wouldn't be able to see her. Rals stepped out from behind the manicured hedge, all 4'2" in size. Rals padded over, ignoring Xander, who was standing near Joran. She dropped the white rose in Joran's lap, and then looked straight at Xander. Be warned, Vampire. This is not all fun and games here. I'll have the satisfaction of ripping out your throat. She fastened her teeth around Joran's collar. Come on then. Don't waste the nice rose. Rals would start to drag Joran away quickly if he didn't stand up quickly.

Edited by Darkshadow

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Johan simply stared at Marcy for a long moment, deciding whether or not she was serious, but even through her confusion, he saw resignation, determination, yes she knew what she was doing she would obey, she understood what it was she was giving up... as best she could at the moment.

 

He took his cell phone out of his pocket and entered the number two, sending it off through the air as a text message to the faithful family that had served him for three generations in England. They would know what she'd chosen, and what to do next.

 

"Your family will be taken care of, until this is over they are being placed under my protection, they'll be moved to my mansion outside London and be given every freedom and opportunity afforded to me, until our contract is over. But they will also serve as a guarantee that you won't go back on your word." Johan actually looked sad, half ashamed even, "I know you meant what you chose now, but I have to be absolutely sure, I'm sorry."

 

"Now," he paused, "you're about to feel the aftereffects of that miraculous serum I gave you, it will hurt, it won't be over quickly, and I'll take care of you, but not here. I need to take you back to my home where I can treat you properly. And I'll begin explaining what your life is going to be like for the next several weeks." he reached out a hand to steady her on her feet. "You can walk, or if you prefer I can carry you, but we have to go now. I promise to start answering your questions as soon as we get back to my dwelling." He held out his other hand for hers, waiting for her to be ready to go, to respond, and hoping that she'd taken everything in now, understood at least some of it, and... a small part of him still hoped she didn't hate him yet.

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Graham jumped as a piercing noise came to his ears. It was excruciating, ringing and echoing. As he shook his head and released a light growl, he looked up just quick enough for that boy, Joran, to rake his fingers across his face. Fingernails that were too hard for normality dug into his flesh, separating it, tearing it and combining it's pain with the pain from the sound. At once his growl intensified, and as Joran leapt out of the building, so did Graham. Once out of sight of any prying human's eye, the werewolf shifted into the jet black beast that was his "other self." A second persona, if you will. He snarled and pulled furred lips to reveal shiny black gums and sharp white teeth, blue eyes narrowing and ears pinning against his head to complete a savage, angry effect. He would've torn into Joran and been done with it, but unfortunately there were others with that stupid Vampire. There were others that would prevent him from taking a kill and slicing that flesh with his sharp-toothed jaws that hungered for the flesh of Joran. He settled for prowling hungrily before him, not caring at the moment that it was obvious there was but one person he could be. There was fresh blood on his face, cuts running from his forehead to his nose.

 

Graham's wolf self was the opposite of his human self. His wolf self was unrestrained, unbridled, dangerous, savage, and brutal. He hungered for revenge where Graham would've sat quietly fuming and keeping grudges. The wolf was spur-of-the-moment, while Graham was the thinker. The wolf was who Graham would be without the restraint he kept himself under. Small things could push him over the edge. For example, the slash that added pain to his broken noise and the horrific sound that had come and hurt him so. Oh, it was all too much for the wolf. The wolf leapt at the thought of revenge, and thus all control, all the reins and bits Graham had attached to his bridle in hopes of added control, all these things shattered in a mere instant, with the mere flick of a wrist, and a few unwise actions. And so here he was, because of that stupid Vampire. Here he was. And so revenge would be his, if only for a moment.

 

Graham snapped at the other wolf who he assumed was Rals, based on the placement of a white rose on his victim's lap. If anyone touched the Vampire, Ridell demanded it would only be himself. It was interesting to know these two were not human, but his mind didn't linger on this fact for long. He had far more important things to take care of. He looked at Xander, awaiting the possibility of him letting them attack Joran, though he knew the likelihood of such an opportunity was very low. In fact, Graham doubted it would happen. But he still looked at the man with hunger and want written clearly in those icy blue eyes of his. Such longing was there, accompanied by a faint whine, though his mouth did not move from it's snarling position. He didn't care if it stuck like that forever, but Joran would know he was not happy. And to think he had almost liked the fool.

 

 

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((1,797 words....))

 

And the attention of the pack, Arata did draw. As soon as the strange looking cousin landed, several of the members of the pack took to growling darkly along with Carmandy’s parents. However, as soon as Carmandy turned to him with a gentle smile then looked back at her family and pack with a snarl, the silenced themselves, but questioned her with the positions of their bodies. Most of them had backed away from Carmandy and the Kitsune while they sniffed the air, still suspicious of the new comer. They could smell that he had been in America for a time, but yet there was still something that was strange about him. He was lean and fast which was surprising to them because he was still rather small, maybe Carmandy’s size if not slightly larger.

 

Carmandy could read their minds for most of them were so distraught at the sudden occurrence that they allowed their emotions to cross their faces easily. Carmandy snarled once more, her eyes dilating and her fangs elongating. It was a sure warning that they were to back off, however her parents merely watched even though there was some disapproval in their faces. It was that disapproval that injured her for a moment until she was sure that her pack would leave them alone so that she could quickly give him the information.

 

“We don’t know Arata-san. It seems to be that someone was either trying to harm us, or find out who we are. It could be Silverhands, or something like that. We do not know.” Her voice carried to where he was without any effort but the monotone voice that she had first had with him was there. No emotion, just information.

 

“Carmandy, who is this?” Her mother questioned as she glided effortlessly with the grace of a killer towards her daughter. Once she was beside her, Carmandy turned to her mother and looked up at her.

 

“He is a Kitsune, and a poorling. His name is Arata and we met earlier. He is safe for as far as my instincts can say, but I am much younger than you mother.” She stated and stepped back slightly as Victoria looked at Arata.

 

“Come here child.” Her voice was like her daughters. Smooth, deadly, but hers carried knowledge of the ages with it while Carmandy’s still sounded young. The odd thing though, was that Victoria looked like she was only in her early forties if that. Her dark brown eyes scanned the area around them until she noticed a wolf passing through the yard. A dark growl escaped her as her husband and head Alpha shifted quickly into a dark black wolf, with reddish undertones. In a moment he was after the other wolf while the Beta’s looked at the other group that had walked outside as well. They watched them closely and overheard the conversation which made them even more wary.

 

Xander was surprised to hear the defeat and naivety in Joran’s voice. He would have thought that the young man was older, but it seemed that he wasn’t at all. The despair in his voice was enough to make Xander cringe. Something was going on behind the scenes and Xander was just about done with all of secrets. “Joran, I’m not going to…” he stopped as he watched a wolf enter from the side. She was massive like most Werewolves were…but she was really…just big! Xander normally ran with the youngest members mainly the pups to keep them in shape so he was used to them being the size of a normal wolf. Only twice in his life had he really seen from a good vantage point the true size of an adult werewolf. This was now the third and it was just as frightening as the first and second. He had to admit though that he was used to fighting with them for they sparred constantly so his fear was slightly dimmed with confidence.

 

But the odd thing was, is that this wolf smelled like lavender….like lavender….

 

Xander had to try and think and figure out why the smell was so familiar. It would probably come to him later but it sure as heck wasn’t going to now. With a grin, he realized that the wolf was Rals. The white rose and the red rose. Was she protecting Joran? She was…why?

Xander stood and hissed as soon as he heard the Wolfish speak that he had learned to understand many years ago. She was threatening him and he wasn’t about to take it. “Don’t threaten me young one. I am more years than you know, your elder. Besides, I wasn’t going to kill him.” He said then was surprised to see a familiar form leap into the little grove of trees; Graham.

 

“Why not make it a party?” He grumbled as he watched the body posture of all present. Hopelessness, determination, and ‘May I kill it?’. “Graham, don’t. Right now I think everyone is ten-“

 

A loud, dangerous growl was heard as a massive wolf, one that had age, and experience on his side padded to the trees through the shrubs. It seemed as if the very trees around him turned away to keep from him. This was a rare day to have at least one of each race in a single area, but Xander wasn’t exactly sure if that was a GOOD thing.

 

Rollo looked at Graham and snarled before he turned to Rals. He came up to an even 5’6 when he stood at his full height hackles and all. For a male, he was large for Werewolves generally stood taller than their cousins, wolves that is, but still were able to be mistaken for one of them. Xander could easily believe that the older a werewolf was, the larger they were.

 

“Put the boy down traitor.” Rollo growled at the she-wolf before coming right next to Graham. “I am assuming that the Old Ones wish to speak with him, he- who- guards -our -pups?” Rollo asked and when Xander nodded Rollo growled again.

 

“Wise one, wait a moment…the boy mentioned that he would die this night…” When Rollo was quiet, Xander walked up beside Rollo to look at Joran. “We can offer you protection. We have a Clan over 60 strong who live here in this city alone. The Alpha of the pack here has a pack whose numbers border 70. We are not weak and we have resources…we can protect you.” Xander said and even though Rollo disliked the idea, he nodded an affirmative. Despite listening to he-who-guards-our-pups, Rollo still noted the position of the she-wolf…an Alphess…

 

Xander had to admit that maybe the numbers were exaggerated with the pack, but their numbers were impressive. Rollo and Victoria had been building their pack for quite some time so it was easily that high of a number. It took them many years to even be able to have more than 20 members in their pack at a time for it took trust to develop a back...that or ruthless leadership.

 

Marcy cleared her face and took a deep breath before turning around to see Johan as he spoke. Her eyes widened a considerable amount as he spoke of her family being moved to his mansion outside of London…London, England! But it was both a boon, and something to be hated. What was her family going to do? Clothe themselves fully for once, eat healthily and then return to the death and filth that they had once come from? It was an unfair advantage, but at least maybe her mother could be helped before they had to return.

 

The odd thing was that Johan looked ashamed about using her family as collateral. However, she merely understood it which was odd to her because normally she would have something to say. But at the moment, her fingers were starting to feel prickly and it was distracting her. What Johan said next, explained said feeling. “Why didn’t you warn me that there were effects? I could have just stayed back at my own home.” She was frustrated and shivering. It wasn’t all that cold for Colorado even if it was already night time so why was she shivering? “And I can walk on my own.” She said a little more irritably than she had wanted, but maybe Johan would get how upset she was for once instead of being a coy, immature human being.

 

While folding her arms, she walked by him quickly even if she was a bit shaky. It wasn’t really that bad. It was more so like influenza or just a virus that had just started except for the prickling sensation in her hands. Why it was in her hands, she didn’t know but she was glad that it wasn’t in her feet: that would have been really annoying.

 

As she walked, she realized that she didn’t really know where his house was, but was walking to her own home instead. She would need a change of clothes anyways because she wasn’t going to ruin this dress if the effects of the medicine included barfing, or sweating all night long…it was far too beautiful for that.

 

At the moment, she didn’t really care if Johan was with her or not although she was sure that he would be soon whether or not she liked it so she left her door open then walked into her room and changed quickly into a pair of sweat pants and a sweat shirt. They both helped slightly in warding off the inner chill that she felt in her body…but something was off about her house. Something with the flowers that bordered her entire roof had seemed to be torn up in the darkness of night..but then again it could just be shadows…but then again.

 

She knew that she was being over cautious, but she had to turn on her artificial sun lights just to see the garden. She walked across her living room in her flip flops and flipped the switch that she used when she wanted to get materials from her garden if it was dark outside. When she opened the shades of her sliding door she didn’t look up even as she opened the door and stepped out.

 

As soon as her now makeup free eyes looked at her garden, a terrorized and horrified scream escaped her. “Noooo! No no no no no!” She cried over and over the effects of the medicine not helping her in keeping control of herself. Her garden was completely and totally torn up. Each plant had been either crushed or dug up and turned into something that could never be used again. “Why?!” she cried out as she knelt beside one of the raised gardens that had held seedlings. Even her favorite apple tree was damaged almost beyond healing.

 

Screams and sobs escaped her freely not only as relief of the past year, but of hatred and anger that someone would kill her plants, her livelihood, her babes. If someone walked in on her now, they would probably think her insane for crying over plants, but to her these were more than just plants…

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((You rawk, LL 8D))

 

~Joran~

((Darky/Pack/LL, tell me if this is too much and I should edit for reactions =3))

 

It all happened so fast.

 

First and very suddenly Rals appeared. The very fact that she appeared to help Joran left him dumbfounded, but the fact that she dropped the thorny white rose onto his lap...

 

He heard the wolf-speak but didn't quite catch it as he was too busy staring at the rose and trying to comprehend his little existence. It was the same rose he had given her, and she had just given it back. She had just come out to help him, to protect him! It would have been embarrassing if Joran could have really comprehended it. Then suddenly she was dragging him to his feet, and Joran quickly snatched the rose up as stood. Rals is here! But, I can't let her fight for me, or--

 

Another growl suddenly erupted and Joran felt sick. His hand began shaking again and he steadied himself with a hand on Rals as the second werewolf came upon the scene. Joran didn't take a moment to recognize it; it was Graham, whose face was bleeding awfully. The blood made Joran feel sick and he opened his mouth to try to say something in apology, but he couldn't think of anything sentient to say. "Rals..." was all he managed to mumble as he gripped the white rose tightly with his left hand. It suddenly dawned on him that Xander had said something about not killing him, and then had threatened Rals. Xander was definitely not a young Vampyre.

 

“Graham, don’t." The words almost relieved Joran as he realized Rals probably would have fought Graham for him. He would have had to fight Xander--that is, he would have chosen to then--and by now he knew that was a battle he couldn't win. When it was just him, death hadn't seemed like a big deal, but now that Rals was there...

 

As Xander's next words were spoken there was a sudden and powerful sound, louder than either Rals or Graham but similar in voice. A huge wolf, larger than any Joran had ever seen, suddenly presented itself and Joran backed up slightly, fighting to keep his balance as instincts threatened to again take over his mind. He still held the white rose tight. The blood from his mouth and eyes had stopped, but still streaked his face. The creature was massive, like the Alpha of Russia that Joran's Grandfather had once told him about as a boy (though he described that Alpha as the height of an Elephant on all four paws). It was dark and powerful, with no flaws whatsoever.

 

The wolf snarled at Graham, then turned to Rals. “Put the boy down traitor.” And then it walked over to Graham. Joran felt a sudden surge of--well, either rage, insanity or bravery--and managed to glare at the huge wolf. “I am assuming that the Old Ones wish to speak with him, he- who- guards -our -pups?” Joran swallowed; the Old Ones could only be Elder Vampyres, and Joran had no desire to speak to such beings. He'd never admit it, but he hated speaking to old wise-guys who seemed to have it all figured out, probably because he didn't have anything figured out. Oh, and the fact that they probably wanted to interrogate him and then brainwash him (and they were probably capable of doing so) didn't help.

 

“Wise one, wait a moment…the boy mentioned that he would die this night…”

Joran seemed surprised when Xander said this, but then realized he had said he would die. He dropped his head, frowning. Cursed noise. Stupid, cursed noise! Why can't I control this stupid transformation?! Why am I the only one here who can't do anything right??! Thanks for going screaming out a window like a girl, instincts! "It's no use, Rals," he whispered, "there are others that want me gone, and they won't fail. But... thank you."

 

There was a moment of silence as Xander walked up to the giant Alpha. Joran awaited his fate, still deciding whether or not he should run. No, he couldn't run, he couldn't leave Rals to a three-on-one battle. Heck, he couldn't even let himself die there. It wouldn't be fair, wimping out when Rals was prepared for battle, and Joran hated it when things weren't fair.

 

“We can offer you protection." At first Joran was certain he heard something along the lines of, 'we can eat all your protection.' But as the words registered he realized that wasn't what Xander had said. He looked up and met the Vampyre's eyes, a stunned expression on his face. "We have a Clan over 60 strong who live here in this city alone. The Alpha of the pack here has a pack whose numbers border 70. We are not weak and we have resources…we can protect you.”

 

A million thoughts ran through Joran's mind. No, it was impossible. It couldn't happen. He shook his head, a rather wild look in his eye. "Why... would you even... no. It... can't happen," he said, grimacing in a haunted way. "There's no way... you don't even know who I am!" And why not tell them? He was the most important nobody that existed, and his life was over anyway. If Steel was listening, this was the least Joran could do in revenge. Something in him still wanted to please his Grandfather, but the rest of him knew there was no doing that. It was either go full-out traitor or die a half-traitor. Joran backed up from Rals, not sure she would appreciate what he was about to say, even though it wouldn't directly affect her. He held the rose tightly, the thorns gently digging into his flesh.

 

"I'm not Joran Baalgruf, I'm Joran Bampaia son of Ulric Bampaia son of Ulfan Bampaia, Lead Vampire of the Bampaia clan who rules the entire Nordic lands--every one of them, closely allied to the Russian Vampires, with eyes everywhere and smooth words even further, currently halfway done completing his plans on invading, destroying and rebuilding America as a Russian land with about thirty Vampires that are over the age of five-hundred already in the country, two holding government offices and seven holding high-ranking military positions." His face was sad as he admitted this, because he was nothing to his Grandfather--one pawn in a million. There were truly hundreds of Vampires in the Nordic lands who all adhered to his Grandfather's word, perhaps thousands. And Steel... Steel would kill so many people, kill so many children, do so many things to find and kill Joran after this. Joran was a coward, he admitted that to himself, but he couldn't watch Steel destroy innocents and know that it was his fault.

 

Also, Rals... if she was considered a traitor, that meant that she was also against America. Even if Joran had given away information about Russia and the Nordic Lands, he swore to himself he wouldn't say a thing about Australia or the Vampire workings there... not that he knew much. But he couldn't let them hurt Rals here. What would they do to her if he accepted their help? Not like he could accept it. He looked coldly at Xander. "If you protect me, everyone in this school could die. If Steel or my Grandfather find out where I am and what I've just told you, they could get Russia to start another war. People will start dying, not even here, but all over America. They'll kill masses at a time, mostly humans and young Vampyres, just to show me what my betrayal has caused." He paused a moment and looked at Rals, then looked at Graham.

 

Oddly enough, he managed a little smile under the hopeless look in his eyes. "Sorry about the face, Graham," he said quietly. "Y'know, instincts and all... you happened to be closest; Rals was too fast." He felt rather random saying it, and had to wonder if he had just completely lost his own mind.

Edited by LadyNatasha

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{{Completely fine with me, LN, but don't expect Rals to just give up that easily on saving Joran. 8D She has a wee crush on him. /headshot}}

Rals

“Don’t threaten me young one. I am more years than you know, your elder. Besides, I wasn’t going to kill him.” Rals gave a barking laugh, which made her unhook her teeth from Joran's collar; the boy had already stood up, clutching the white rose. "Yes, old one, you are old. So were my parents when I killed them. Power does not always come with age." So the other vampires wanted to question him. Behind her! Rals turned to see the wolf equivalent of Graham entering the party as well, the wound on his face bleeding. Graham looked savage. That was good. Maybe I can turn him to my cause, but later. He seems... wild, right now.

 

“Why not make it a party?” Xander grumbled as he watched Graham enter, echoing Rals's thoughts. “Graham, don’t. Right now I think everyone is ten-“

 

A loud, dangerous growl was heard as a massive wolf, one that had age, and experience on his side padded to the trees through the shrubs. Rals snarled, and she smelled her pack-brothers and sisters hiding a distance away. She could smell the lavender scent they all used, only something she had gotten used to. It would be dangerous to face the giant wolf alone, who clearly had been through many fights.

 

The giant wolf looked at Graham and snarled before he turned to Rals. “Put the boy down traitor.” the giant wolf growled, and Rals snarled in a reply. How dare he call me a traitor! “I am assuming that the Old Ones wish to speak with him, he- who- guards -our -pups?” The giant wolf asked, making Rals confused as to whom the wolf was talking too until Xander nodded his head. Vampires guarding werewolf pups? Oh, now this is interesting. Maybe I can convince some Australian vampires to help our cause; they hate the U.S. government as much as my pack does. They'd definitely lend a helping hand to wipe out the vermin populance here...

“Wise one, wait a moment…the boy mentioned that he would die this night…” Xander said, walking up to look at Joran. Rals snarled, but did not move from Joran's side. She would not attack... yet. Her pack-mates had to come closer before she made her move. “We can offer you protection. We have a Clan over 60 strong who live here in this city alone. The Alpha of the pack here has a pack whose numbers border 70...” Rals lost the rest of what Xander was saying. 70!?! 70 werewolves? I bet that includes pups, but still.... My pack only has 17, and I had to round up every single werewolf I could find for ten years! All are dead loyal and would fight to the death... but still, 70?! Rals looked up to see Xander looking at her, probably asessing her weaknesses. She was a lone Alphess, and he was probably looking for her mate. I don't have a mate; I haven't found one powerful enough to suit my pack. It was a private thought; irrelavent to the plight right now. Rals scented the air, searching for the scents of her packmates. Good! They were close. There were 10 of them, with 7 more farther out. That would be enough to escape.

Rals's body tensed, ready to make her escape, when Joran's next words halted her train of thought.

"Why... would you even... no. It... can't happen," he said, grimacing in a haunted way. "There's no way... you don't even know who I am!" Joran backed up from Rals, who turned to look at him with her large, brown eyes. He looked scared for his life, like the rabbit trapped at the end of a hunt. He held the rose Rals had returned to him tightly like it was his lifeline. What is he talking about? He's not... Joran?

"I'm not Joran Baalgruf, I'm Joran Bampaia son of Ulric Bampaia son of Ulfan Bampaia, Lead Vampire of the Bampaia clan who rules the entire Nordic lands--every one of them, closely allied to the Russian Vampires, with eyes everywhere and smooth words even further, currently halfway done completing his plans on invading, destroying and rebuilding America as a Russian land with about thirty Vampires that are over the age of five-hundred already in the country, two holding government offices and seven holding high-ranking military positions." His face was sad as he admitted this, and Rals's face was shocked. She had heard of that Clan, that powerful, powerful clan. Joran was a part of that clan?! Joran looked coldly at Xander. "If you protect me, everyone in this school could die. If Steel or my Grandfather find out where I am and what I've just told you, they could get Russia to start another war. People will start dying, not even here, but all over America. They'll kill masses at a time, mostly humans and young Vampyres, just to show me what my betrayal has caused." He paused a moment and looked at Rals, then looked at Graham.

Rals's heart quivered when Joran looked directly at her, in that one moment. If felt like his eyes were looking, deep down into her soul. For one moment, she didn't care about anything but Joran. No matter that he had been an arrogant, annoying stalker prick. It didn't matter, since that had been his mask; the identity he had been hiding under. Tears sprang to Rals's eyes, and she howled softly, keening. She would not lose Joran, no matter what. "I don't care who you are. YOU ARE MINE!" She howled, and bit down hard on Joran's arm. Her packmates appeared, growling loudly, as Rals dragged Joran away, forcibly if she must. Joran was the most interesting character she had ever met, and he wanted to throw his life away for the pathetic humans in the school? So what? Had he no sympathy for her cause, even though she was a werewolf and he a vampire? "Damn it, Damn it Joran!" Rals thought as she kept dragging Joran away. She started to run, followed quickly by her packmates. Nothing mattered any more. Rals had to get away from the school, and Joran had to come with her. She didn't know about this 'Steel' character, but she hoped he would murder all of the party guests.

{{Hope you don't mind, LN >.>}}

 

--

As soon as Arata came in sight, several of the members of the pack took to growling darkly, which made him afraid. Should he have not come? But Carmandy was here, and she smiled gently at him, which halted the dark growling, but it did not ease the pack's suspicions. And what a large pack it was! Carmandy snarled once more, her eyes dilating and her fangs elongating. It was a sure warning that they were to back off. Arata's eyes widened. She was a powerful figure, Carmandy was. He didn't want to cross paths with her as the enemy. He flattened his ears as a sign of fear. “We don’t know Arata-san. It seems to be that someone was either trying to harm us, or find out who we are. It could be Silverhands, or something like that. We do not know.” Carmandy said, and Arata tilted his head to the side. What were these 'Silverhands' Carmandy spoke of, and why would they want to harm everybody.

“Carmandy, who is this?” A woman glided up, all for the world looking like a cat stalking a pidgeon. From her aura, this woman was an Alphess.

“He is a Kitsune, and a poorling. His name is Arata and we met earlier. He is safe for as far as my instincts can say, but I am much younger than you mother.” She stated and stepped back slightly as the woman came closer.

“Come here child.” The woman's voice was like Carmandy's voice, smooth and deadly. Arata stepped forward, positioning himself low on the ground, ears back, a sign of submission. A dark growl escaped the woman, and Arata flinched, and closed his eyes. What did he do wrong? However, nothing happened for a moment, and Arata found it safe enough to open his eyes again. He stared up at the woman, frightened for his life.

Edited by Darkshadow

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Johan remained at Marcy's side the entire way to her house, he knew she would probably head there first, oh well... it only meant he'd have to carry her anywhere else for sure.

 

"I didn't tell you because..." And then he heard her cry out, and rushed into the room she was in, honestly ready to tear someone apart, but he immediately saw what had happened.

 

H didn't touch her, or try to comfort her, but instead he moved into the garden and looked around, sniffing as well, but there was no scent. Long raking marks that could only belong to claws told him it was an animal... an animal that could leap fences and leave no trace of its scent, which meant a human intellect, so either vampire or wolf, but there wasn't even a trace of fur, much harder not to shed than not to scent, so it had to be the former, most likely at any rate.

 

Johan allowed Marcy to cry, he knew it had made her incredibly sad, even without the workings of the withdrawal hitting her body just now. It infuriated him... but he couldn't figure out why, why he cared so much.

 

Because she's mine! and no one does anything to what's mine and gets away with it, there are so few things that are.... left in this world of mine. the thought surprised him and he sighed, it was true.... this attachment is going to get me killed...

 

He picked from her room clothes for her to wear and took the essentials from her bathroom. They all fit in a small suitcase he had found in the living-room.

 

Then he came and knelt down beside the weeping human. He still didn't lay a hand on her in comfort, she didn't know him well enough yet, and he didn't want to frighten her. Instead he whispered in her ear.

 

"I'm so sorry, I will return and save what I can, I promise." Now though he let loose his reserves for not holding her and picked her up in his strong arms, gently but firmly. He took the suitcase as well, holding her strongly, there was no way she could break away, but not restrictively, she could flail and probably smash him with her fists if she wanted, but he would endure, he had to get her to his home... now! The idea that whoever ruined the garden might be out to harm her made the decision for him.

 

"I will make it new again, I promise." He bit his lip, carrying her out the front door. Why had he promised that? He was no gardener... and yet he felt he had to. She had agreed to be his, and her needs were his needs, but it was more than that, he didn't want her to be sad. Inwardly he cursed himself, knowing this was only going to make what he would do to her... that much more painful for them both.

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((2000 words exactly... and I rawk? SWEET! Oh and Dark, a little crush? She ran away with him...lol!))

 

Xander was shocked to say the least when Joran started to pour out everything about what was going on in his life. Who his father was and the very name made Xander shudder. Things were not going to go well these next few years with that tyrant willing to take over. He needed to talk to the Elders and he had to do that soon, but he couldn’t now that he was looking at the ground thinking deep and hard. The Russians had always had the strongest and largest Packs and Clans with Asia coming in a close second. It was the one thing that they had always feared when they thought about the struggles that would be coming with other wolves and vampires that would want to come into their territory. What would they do now that they had this man in their country and how had they not realized this in the first place?

 

Joran seemed to spill out all of the information that they needed to try and find a way to defend themselves. Was he for them or against them?

 

“Joran,” Xander’s voice was sad as he realized the stress and how insignificant Joran must feel. “A pawn is what you are then. No matter, the Elders merely wish to know why you are here and you have satisfied that reason and given us valuable information, for that I thank you. But not all is hopeless.” He stated before there was a keening howl that struck him as odd until he realized the gaze that Rals had given Joran. It was sweet, and loving both of which he thought were feelings not capable for the young woman. He smiled though as did Rollo when she spirited Joran away from all of them. They had their information, but it did not seem as though either of them had initiated the sound for they were both affected by the sound.

 

“Wise one?”

“Yes?”

“What do we do?” Xander asked. There was no way that they could easily fight the Russian and Nordic branches of Werewolves and Vampires…no way.

 

“We fight until we die, or find a diplomatic way of solving an otherwise bloody battle…”

 

 

Carmandy took a sharp breath as he mother growled at Arata but she seemed pleased with the reaction that the younger wolf held. It was one of submission and one worthy of a pack member if that was what her mother was thinking.

 

“Your submissiveness is good…but do not submit to all cousin. Your name, Arata, Arata Shou correct? Yes, that is correct. Good family. You are welcome here Arata Shou.” The woman bent down and gently patted the younger being’s head with her hand as an older wolf would to a younger pup. She turned around and awaited the return of her mate while the rest of the pack left Victoria, Carmandy, and Arata there in the gardens.

 

Carmandy let out a breath that she didn’t realize that she had been keeping pent up within her until her mother had turned away from Arata. The way her mother acted was all too much like the weather here in the city. It could be calm one day, and stormy another without warning and Arata was lucky it was a clear day for her mother.

 

“Are you alright?” Carmandy asked as she squatted next to Arata her eyes searching his to make sure that he wasn’t completely traumatized by her mother.

 

Marcy held the dirt in her hands as if it were something precious to her. But dirt was dirt and you could find that anywhere, so why was this dirt so important to her? It wasn’t because she loved to garden, and it wasn’t because it was her livihood. If it were either of those two, she would truly be a hopeless case. It was something far more dear to her than her very family.

 

During Marcy’s first semester, she was an innocent, pure, loving young woman who had a hard time getting along with the Richies because she was stubborn and beautiful. Despite those two things, she still was able to get along with them at some point in time because she would use the correct wordings when greeting them, or saying farewell. But still they hated her for her beauty and smarts. The fact that she was a Poorling didn’t help her any at all in her case like it would have for some.

 

At this time, there were a few of the Vampyres and Werewolves watching over the Poorlings and making sure that they didn’t get into too much trouble. At this time, there was a young Vampyre named Sheehan who had found himself falling for Marcy and her kind ways.

 

One day when Marcy had received a harsh verdict after not answering her professor, Sheehan, Carmandy, and Carmandy’s late boyfriend Maxamillian, all gathered around her and took her to her house to make sure that she would be okay. Once Marcy had had time to rest, she walked to the nearest restaurant, a little hole in the wall that she always enjoyed going to for the atmosphere. That same night was also Maxamillian’s weight lifting championship which he won. When Carmandy, Sheehan and Max appeared at the restaurant they didn’t notice Marcy, nor did they notice the strongest Senior in the college and his cronies: Kyle Danes. He hated Marcy for the slights that she allowed to pass her lips, and hated that she was so beautiful. It was something that he could never forgive her for and never would.

 

Kyle and his group sat down at another table while Marcy finished eating her dinner, then followed her outside. The young woman was terrified as she heard steps behind her and tried to run but was quickly knocked down. Before Sheehan, Carmandy and Max arrived with their friends, Marcy had been raped.

 

Sheehan and the others quickly took her to the Crystal House where their late leader, who was also doctor, patched her up from the severe beating that she had also taken. Over the next nine months, Sheehan and Marcy fell in love quickly and he tried to minister to her and help her see that God was in control of everything. Marcy was on the cusp of believing him and all those that tried to help her, when the unthinkable happened.

 

Now one thing should be explained. When a Poorling is impregnated by a Richie, the Poorling must undergo an abortion unless the Richie protects her. If he does not, the Poorling is also liable to have a hysterectomy as well as an abortion to prevent her from ever becoming pregnant again and adding to the Poorling populous. If a Richie vouches for the female though, whether or not he is the father, the mother can then have the child or children as long as the Richie that vouched for her takes care of the children; he does not have to take care of the woman.

 

In all original intentions, Sheehan was to take care of Marcy and the children since he knew that Kyle would not. But the night that she was to give birth, she was in her home without being near her phone, or near Sheehan for that matter. Kyle had been waiting for the past week for a moment to arrive to have her alone so that he could take her to the hospital and now he had that chance. The only problem was that it wouldn’t be an abortion, it would have to be a live birth…

 

After capturing Marcy and quickly driving her to the hospital much to her protesting when she wasn’t having contractions, he told the doctors the situation and immediately things were set up to euthanize the baby.

 

But as Marcy gave birth, she still heard the cry of each of her twins, and heard their life taken from them. She wasn’t able to hold them, only see them, see their eyes that reflected her own and Kyle’s at the same time. Their breathing ceased and started to scream like a madwoman until the doctors silenced her.

 

When Sheehan found out, he went to the hospital as quickly as he could run with his two Werewolf friends until they found her, shivering, without her two sons, and alone in the world. Sheehan tried to comfort her but in the end, Marcy stood up, turned towards him and slapped him across the face, her fingernails cutting into his skin. She hated him, them, everyone. “Because you weren’t there, the one thing that I was happy for is gone…” The words rang in Sheehan’s ears and he couldn’t explain, he couldn’t say anything.

 

Sheehan became mad with grief over what had happened and did his best to try to heal but instead, ran out to the forest and was never seen again. Behind the scenes though, the leader of the clan at that time, wanted to ursurp Sheehan’s rightful leadership and attempted to kill Zebulon and Jamila, but instead he killed Max, who with his dying breath and movement, killed the man that would try and ruin their Clan.

 

When Marcy heard all that had gone on from a mourning Carmandy, Marcy found herself hating all Werewolf and Vampiric kind for it was they who failed her and their God that failed her as well. Richies were not worth listening to and no Richie could ever earn her trust again unless it was forced upon her or it lent to her gaining enough power and strength to kill every single Richie. At that point though, Zebulon and Jamila erased the part of her memory about them, as well as Vampyres and Werewolves. She would never know it again unless another of their kind explained it to her.

 

Marcy went on in life with anger and hatred as her survival method and soon was allowed to have a garden of her own. Within the garden, she used the ashes of her once born sons to help the garden flourish and flourish it did almost as if those two babes wished to make their mother smile once more.

 

This was the reason that Marcy was so distraught about her garden, her precious garden ... her children.

 

Marcy heard Johan kneel beside her as her cries turned to mere whimpers while she gently stroked a single leaf that had not been crushed. When he whispered that he would return and try and save what he could, she shook her head and fresh tears rolled down her face even as he gently picked her up. As he did though, her shivering became stronger as she wished for more of the miracle serum so that she could run far away from this world, so that she could feel that power again…so that she could kill Kyle. He deserved to die and not live for what he had done. She wanted to find Sheehan and kill him as well for betraying her and not being there when she needed him…this damned serum!

 

“You can’t…no one can bring them back…no one can make them live again.” She said as her feverish reaction to the serum started to make her break out in a sweat. Her bones started to get that same prickling sensation but then it felt as if fire were trying to run through her body just telling her to beg for that serum once more and all the pain would be gone. “Please, make it stop…” she begged him and even asked form more of the serum as she shivered. “Please, I don’t want it to hurt anymore…”

 

The one thing that even surprised her, was that she was allowing Johan to carry her. At the moment she couldn’t fight him, but she enjoyed the contact of another human being in such a caring manner. Her whimpers continued as she did her best to contain her groans of pain as the fire radiated from the inside out.

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