not so pretty on the inside [iron]

[nathaniel lee henderson]

[style=font-family:georgia; font-size:16; letter-spacing: -1px;]MAYBE HEAVEN RIGHT NOW IS A DEVIL OR ANGEL AWAY,

A hand outstretched toward the sky to block the blinding sun from the man’s strained blue eyes as he stepped outside of the restaurant. His other hand held the door open for a moment, allowing a woman to walk through after him. He nodded politely before letting the door close and heading toward one of the outside tables. He dropped his hand as he slumped into a shaded chair, and pulled a cigarette from his pocket.

It was Nate’s lunch break, although technically he could leave whenever he wanted. That was the beauty of being the boss of your own business – you didn’t have to follow many rules. Sure, it was arguable that he is only the son of the owner, but since he’s dead… that leaves him in power. The day was warm with an almost faultless sky as it was a deep sky blue hue, causing Nate’s blue eyes to glow a fiercer shade. His fingers fidgeted for a moment as he pulled the cigarette to his mouth, and lit it easily with his other hand. He took a long drag, inhaling the toxins without regret with closed eyes. He wasn’t going to be dying anytime soon, so there’s really no harm in quickening the process.

He exhaled slowly, his eyes slowly opening and examining the cigarette for a brief moment. He flicked the ashes toward the ground, and thanked the waiter politely as he laid a plate before Nate on the table. A brief wave of annoyance washed over him for he barely had anytime to enjoy his smoke; he sighed as he put the cigarette out in the ashtray. It’s funny because you would never hear someone complain about food service being too fast, but yet here Nate was with a stern look on his face, staring at the sandwich as if it was its fault.

The werewolf adjusted himself in his seat, and wrapped his hands around the sub; he took a huge bite out of it to satisfy his growling stomach. Some would think he was still growing by the amount of food the man consumes in one day. Nate placed the sandwich back on the plate as he chewed slowly, struggling a little from the size of the bite. He finally swallowed, followed by a long sip of water. He pursed his lips slightly as he clicked the top of his iPhone to see the time. 1:32 PM.

He buried his face in his hands for a brief moment, frustration beginning to course through his veins. He couldn’t seem to get it out of his mind that tonight was the first night of the cycle. As the shadows swallow the island, the moon will rise in the starred sky – bright and round as can be. It seemed as though the last time he checked the time was at an early 7:30 AM, and now it was already past noon. Nate cringed internally; he hated the beginning of the cycle. He can successfully control his murderous temptations, but this particular day he could tell it would be far worse.

It had been exactly twenty-seven years since his father’s death on this day.

His mood had been shitty all day, and he knew it wasn’t going to lighten up by nightfall. He hated today; especially this year since it coincidentally had to fall on a full moon. He was not only going to be a danger to others, but a danger to himself. He couldn’t forget the law that would be always watching over him like a hawk – he was able to defend himself and free himself from a charge of murder once, but it would be rare for him to get that lucky again.

His stomach twisted, and sapphire eyes looked disgustingly at the sandwich. He lost his appetite. Nate pushed the plate away from him a few inches, and reached for his cigarette again. He re-lit it, and took another long drag. With the inhalation, came a wave of relaxation.

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(status: complete) (tagged: iron with bianca)
(notes: this is extremely shitty, but i wanted to get it done
because i felt bad about taking so long with my app x_x)

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[bianca beretta lockehart]

the beast you made of me , ,

I held it in but now it seems you've set it running free

She hadn’t slept all night… again. Not that it bothered her, she didn’t really feel tired at all; working on her latest few projects. It was funny how time flew past her like that, without so much as a hint of glimmer until she was glancing out the window to a ray of sunlight that peeked through. What was really hilarious was how every time the sunrise came in, it surprised her; as if she didn’t know that she had been working all night. It was quite the common routine actually. Carmine and blue lights would peek in and fall on her latest project, she’d give a single fuck, glance out to view the sunrise for a split second then shrug and continue working.

It always took her about a half an hour after that to get moving downstairs to the garage where her deals were held. By that time, she was drinking coffee and eating something… always eating something. She probably ate at least twelve times a day; small meals mind you, plus snacks but any regulars who had been visiting her long enough would always comment on how she didn’t stop eating. Not that she cared. One couldn’t be a skinny little stick all the time now could they?

Today, however, she was doing something different. She was closing up shop for a while to go visit her father. The last time she had saw the old man had to be when it was still winter… which was quite a long time ago. She almost felt bad for putting it off for so long, but at the same time she was her father’s daughter. She had picked up his working habits and if anything, she was sure that he’d understand once she went over and explained it too him. It was worth a try…

Changing her clothes and putting on a jacket, she skipped down her stairs. Stepping first into a grand scene of forest and foliage, Bianca tossed her hood over her shoulders and fastened it, glancing around at the wilderness. It was quiet today, and she knew exactly why.

Full Moon...

Another reason why she had probably found it hard to sleep the night before. Her body was already aching with the anticipation. She could no longer kill like she used to, so instead she had redirected her energy into tracking. The Shaman usually had no intention of keeping her intentions secretive to her prey. She liked for him to know that she was after him; the burning hatred seething inside of her.

Remember what Justitia said. You cannot attack an innocent werewolf...

Walking out on the streets, she got her taste of the real world again, something she didn’t get much of while cooped up in her garage. It was like walking through the turning pages of a book sometimes; the scenery always changing in gigantic skips and leaps of pictures that never helped tell the complete story. It left her feeling a bit of whiplash sometimes, being that there seemed to always be something new going on. She felt everything but lost in this concrete jungle; mostly because the people still remained the same type of assholes they always were.

Got to love the city. Civilians are amazing…

The breeze blew dead leaves over the aged grass of the cemetery as she and Buck stepped onto the grounds. They weaved their way through headstones and risen lumps of earth where caskets had been dropped down into a time ago. There were some spots with fresh dirt upturned; those graves were new. Everyone was dying nowadays and it was most likely thanks to those supernaturals who so-called "couldn't control themselves". Bianca called bullshit... any supernatural was just as capable as an animal or human in controlling themselves; they just didn't want the responsibilities of choosing life.

That was exactly how that werewolf escape persecution the first time...

“Hi daddy…” She half mumbled to the old grave as she approached it and began to brush leaves away from it. How many years had it been? Too many... And yet it seemed like he was only here yesterday ( she was sure that half of the reason was because her days kept meshing together, due to her lack of sleep ). Sitting down on his grave and leaning her back against the tombstone, she stared up as the over-reaching tree that shaded her. The sun was bright behind it, making her squint a bit, but as time went on, her eyes began to droop and close.

Church bells....

Opening her eyes again, Bianca found herself shivering from a sudden draft of cool, evening air. Sobering up and rubbing the sleep out of her eyes ( you know there’s something wrong when you can actually get adequate sleep in a graveyard… ), she stood up and dusted herself off. Shit, it was almost night and she hadn't even gotten back home yet.

Walking out of the cemetery quickly, and onto the main streets, she weaved through the crowds of people passing by.

Stop...

Stopping in her tracks, Bianca suddenly felt cold. Turning to view a restaurant, she caught view of the wretched killer canine. They were both in public; she couldn't do much to him here... but it was only a matter of time before he'd have to leave the city altogether... and when he did, she would be there....

Making a quick decision, she walked toward him and pulled out the vacant chair; sitting in front of him and leaning her forearms on the table. Her face was expressionless, but her eyes showed the absolute and complete loathing that she harboured for him. She couldn't help it... He had taken everything she had. Bianca wasn't about material things or religious endorsement... what she wanted and had always wanted was love. Family... and her father had been the only thing she had left of it. Now he was gone...

"What's wrong? Got the wrong kind of meat?" She asked him, glancing down at the sandwhich briefly, then back up to him. "Oh wait. Let me guess... It's that time of the month again," Sitting up against the back of her chair, she let her eyes roll to the nearest pharmacy, the wind blowing her long locks of hair across her face. "You know, they have pills for that. It'll help you while you're menstruating." Crossing her legs and leaning back to drape an arm over the chair, Bianca watched him carefully.

tagged: nathaniel/rain
soundtrack: snowflake - kate bush
wordcount: 1065 words
outfit: here
speech/thought directory: Bianca thought/speech - Hannibal King thought - Fang thought - Bubbles - thought
notes: sorry I took so damn long >.>

[nathaniel lee henderson]

[style=font-family:georgia; font-size:16; letter-spacing: -1px;]MAYBE HEAVEN RIGHT NOW IS A DEVIL OR ANGEL AWAY,

The wolf put out his cigarette momentarily again; not even a jack could soothe him by now. Nathaniel’s temper was waning by this point, and as the day dragged on it seemed to worsen. The clock kept ticking, except it was as if it ticked an hour at a time. The werewolf’s face was buried in his hands, with his elbows propped on the table before him. His leg bounced up and down uncontrollably (which annoyingly happened whenever his anxiety kicked in). Nathaniel has had years under his belt to the point where he could control his temptations; but it seemed that his already emotional soul enhances a hundred times when the full moon comes through. God dammit. His jaw clenched harder (if that was even possible). The cloud of melancholy seemed to follow him everywhere he went today, constantly shadowing him from any sort of happiness he could potentially find. Though this “cloud” seemed to follow him around for the entirety of his long, long life.

His father typically died young at three hundred and twelve, seeing as he had a few more hundred years to go as a werewolf. He was beginning to gray a bit, Nathaniel had to admit, even if he still saw him as young and strong. Though twenty-seven years had passed, Nathaniel couldn’t help but feel a strong remorse almost every moment of his practically immortal life. The weight of the business weighed strongly on his shoulders, the pressure of being as successful as his father (who had created the business himself) was smothering him to the point of suffocation. It seemed as though Nathaniel refused to realize the forty percent increase in sales since he was promoted – he refused to even believe that he was doing as well as his father. Perhaps it was the pressure that led to the increase, the fact that he was working days and nights – putting his entire life into the business.

The werewolf leaned back in his chair with his eyes sealed shut and his eyebrows stressfully furrowed together. His face was red and his nostrils slightly flared. Movement caused his blue eyes to flutter open, and a strong scent filled his intensified sense of smell. His teeth ground together. Fuck this. Today just wasn’t his day, it seemed.

His hateful eyes glared across the table toward the “girl.” He didn’t really know what to call her – she was hardly human. All Nate knew was that he was not interested in her childish games today. He couldn’t even tell how old she was anymore, her face appeared as young as a twenty year old. He crossed his arms across his chest. This bitch (excuse my language) has been bothering him for the past twenty-four fucking years. Now, I suppose he couldn’t blame her for he killed her father for just about the same reason she was coming after him. But still, it was fucking annoying. Her father’s death should have justified it all – an eye for an eye. Now he and this “human” were in the same boat – both with murdered fathers and all.

“What’s wrong? Got the wrong kind of meat?” Nathaniel wanted to repeatedly bash his head against a wall – or even better, bash her head repeatedly against a wall. With an un-amused tongue he was about to speak before she continued – of course. How punny of her to coincide a woman’s time a month with a werewolf’s time of month. His lips twitched slightly; with her elbows propped on the table before her and her upper body leaning slightly toward him, Nathaniel felt like he could almost feel her body heat against his skin. Meaning, she was far too close in proximity to the werewolf. ”Unfortunately, they don’t sell pills for my ’condition’,” he hissed, irritation clearly swimming in his eyes while his words appeared utterly emotionless.

The Shaman leaned back in her chair, and Nathaniel began to feel just slightly more comfortable. Her hatred for him almost radiated from her, though he couldn’t say he liked her any better seeing as it was her father who causes him pain daily. He looked stubbornly away from Bianca, feeling rather “moody” as if he actually were having his period. Nathanial knew that she knew what tonight was the beginning of – and for some reason, this fact caused his blood to boil. His nostrils flared slight, and his sapphire blue eyes flashed back over to the girl. He had to admit – she was weird. He could just tell by the way she acted throughout the years. Who the fuck wears a red cape during a full moon? ”Playing dress up tonight?” he questioned, alluding to the fact of the full moon tonight. Not only did she wear that ridiculous cape, but she also wore this weird… thing on her hand with silver blades. Pain in the ass, and he had the scar that spread across his back to prove it.

Not knowing what to do with himself, Nathaniel reached for his cigarette again – lighting it quickly and inhaling deeply. He held the poisonous smoke within his lungs for a long moment, before blowing the smoke slowly through his lips. He appeared almost nonchalant – despite the obvious bad mood – sitting before the woman. From a bystander’s point of view, they could appear like a couple… not a very happy couple, though. The thought made an uncomfortable feeling in Nathaniel’s stomach; he took another drag and looked back toward the Shaman before him.

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(status: complete) (tagged: iron with bianca)
(notes: hehehe)

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