[IC] Ink On Your Soul - New Beginnings

[Dark Light]

@Ace of flames01

She herd a familiar voice.
"Glad you could join us." It was deep, husky and rough. It wasn't Dorians. "Had me worried for a bit there." Clay lay slouched across a chair in the corner of the room.
Clearly none of Dorians shirts fit him so instead he wore only an open jacket and some dress pants.
The smell of dried blood on his pants indicated he hadn't changed since the ordeal, perhaps he hadn't even left her side.

He stretches out wide as if just awakening himself.
"How are you feeling? Do you need anything?" Clay asks amongst a yawn as he slowly gets out of the chair and tries to straighten up the jacket best he can.

"I'm really sorry about the clothes but we couldn't well leave you in those other ones, needed them out the way, n' didn't want to leave ya there... ya know."

His hand goes to the back of his head as he awkwardly tries to explain the reason for her new apparel. Feeling it important to explain right away to remove the guilt.

Clay was by far more muscular then Dorian, and his I'll fitting tight clothes only emphasised that more.

[Ace of flames01]

@Dark Light

Saoirse hadn't noticed her new appearal until the werewolf had mentioned it. She looked down at her clothes and blushed slightly. She wore a pair of grey sweatpants and a plain T-shirt. "I see. You did this? Thanks." She replied, examining the wolf in front of her "I assume you were the wolf that tracked me? Your scent is all over the room." She paused. "Dorian. Where is he?" She asked with a concerned tone as she stood up, then felt a sharp pain shoot through her chest, causing her to sit back down. "Damn...!" She hissed under her breath. She stood up again, slower this time, and made her way to her clothes and pulled out a large, black T-shirt, that would fit the Wolf's large, muscular build. "Here. I usually wear it as pj's but this should fit you." She said tossing him the shirt. She found it awkward to be in his presence with him not wearing a shirt. "So you are Dorian's brother? Your scent is similar to his and I can see some physical similarities between you and him."

====================meanwhile=======================

"Comfortable? " Rose asked with a sly smile as she sat on Dorian's lap, her arms loosly wrapped around his neck. Unlike, Saoirse's body, Rose had much larger curves and wore much more revealing clothes that would make any man go crazy with lust.

Rose's red lips pressed against Dorian's, her tounge then proceeded to enter and explore the inside of his mouth. Her kiss was long and slow; all the while her hand slowly slithered up and down Dorian's stomach then down towards his groin.

However, just when you thought they were going to go all the way, Rose pulls back. "So. Do you care to explain why you haven't killed the little wolf bitch yet? Or are you finally gonna grow some balls and fuck her brains out?" She said then leaned in close and lowered her voice to a whisper. " when it's with me you don't hesitate and never hold back. Why are you hesitating with that little bitch? Anyway... When you finally do, would mind if I joined in on the fun? Her sly smile returned.

[Dark Light]

"What do you see in him!?"
Clay immediately snapped.
"He's not who or what you think he is, the mans dead inside, everything's just an act. Get out of here while you can and just forget him. Hell, take everything you can grab on your way out!" Clay watches her intently hoping she takes his words seriously. His voice and expression carrying the stress and conviction of his words.
"He's not worth it!"

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

"Rose," Dorians breath shudders. "how long has it been?" his voice a sly whisper.
"You have no right to question me, not after you left me for dead last time."

Dorian looks into her eyes just to remind himself who he is playing with. He had to hide emotion from this woman, give her nothing. It was a dangerous game he was stepping in to. He had to buy himself more time to think about what to do, how he was going to deal with this.

[Ace of flames01]

@Dark Light

Saoirse laughed at Clay's remark. "That he is a murderer that sold his soul to the devil? Look at who you are talking to! I'm a fucking wolf! Unlike you, I was born like this! I am much stronger and more dangerous than you or him could ever be!" She said with a smile as she changed into her wolf form and knocked him down, pinning him against the ground. She growled and barked loudly at him, staring him down; claws out and teeth bared as she established her dominance over him. "You think you and him are monsters? I can assure you that I am much, MUCH worse. Don't you fucking dare think I don't know what I'm getting into! Got it?!" To Clay, Saoirse's aura and the look in her eyes, were that of an alpha putting a subordinate in their place. She didn't hurt Clay, rather, she didn't need to.

Saoirse's body steadily changed back to her human form, still pinning Clay down, the dangerous look in her eyes remained. She silently stared him down for a few more moments before standing up and getting off of him. "I will be loyal to him. Don't forget that." She said, backing up a few feet. "Now put on a damn shirt."

=========================================================

He was trying to avoid her questions, but he forgets her advantage over him; she knows where Saoirse is and she could kill her whenever she wanted. ""You're right. I did leave you for dead." Rose replied then paused, a smile crept up on her face. "Now I understand. You are in love with the little bitch, aren't you? Tell me Dorian, do you know how many dogs are killed each year? Hit by a car, poison, dog fights, gunshot... beaten to death. The list goes on and on, yet each one is more slow and painful than the last. I've even heard that, on occasion, some of the females are raped before they are slowly and painfully tortured to death. Sounds horrible, doesn't it?" Rose's smile grew wide and dangerous as she knew what to say to piss Dorian off. Her words were like a weapon. With each cause of death Rose listed, a clear vision of Saoirse dying to that cause, played through Dorian's mind like a movie reel.

But perhaps the one that stuck in his mind the most, was the last that Rose listed. In Dorian mind, he could see a terrified Saoirse screaming, screaming his name for help, as her clothes were torn off her body, then she was raped mercilessly, her naked body strung up like a display, and the slowly tortured to death in the most painful ways imaginable, screaming Dorian's name, crying, desperately pleading for him to save her... until everything stopped.

The visions were so terrifying, so real, that the sound of Saoirse's screams echoed in his mind.

[Argetlam350]

Her footsteps echoed off the concrete around her. Few people entered those tunnels, they belonged to her now. They twisted and turned under the city, the old train tunnels that were never used or finished. Some connected to tunnels used by the subway system of the present city, others just ended in dead-ends. Some tunnels were crudely cut and dug out, false tunnels, creating a labyrinth larger then what was known before her gang claimed the tunnels as there network to spread throughout the city. Few knew where the main base of operations were, and those that tried to find it never saw the light of day again. The city belonged to her, Queen of the Reapers. It was her playground to create chaos and nothing was going to stop her.

Scorn navigated the tunnels with ease, even in near utter darkness. She found her destination, her home inside the tunnels with the rest of her gang.

"Children I'm home," She laughed manically as she entered. Those that were there gave short nods or looks. They respected her as much as they feared her. All wore jackets with skeletons on them, most were either orange with white skeletons or white with black skeletons upon them. A few rare cases had other colors but they all meant the same thing, that they were part of her gang, her family to do her bidding as she gave them tasks to do about the city from illegal trading to armed robbery.

She made her way to a rusted train car that was her main place of operation as well as where she lived. When she entered she was greeted by three of her compatriots, the three she most trusted of her gang."Ah Discord, Shadez, and Paranoid, just the people I wanted to talk with," Scorn said happily, a crazy grin on her skull painted face.

"I assume the Lacotes Daces are not going to be trouble anymore," she stated as she shut the door to the car behind her and turned to her three friends. Paranoid was as what his name meant, a rather thin young man who was afraid of just about everything and jumpy with paranoia troubles. Despite his fears he was a reliable tech person to have around to hack into systems and cause some chaos through the web. He wore a green hoodie with a black skeleton on it. He was a shapeshifter, another thing that made him useful to her despite his other problems, as long as she gave him his medication he was usually fine. Next to him stood the imposing figure of Shadez wearing a black hoodie with a white skeleton, who's hoodie zipped all the way to the top except for two eye-holes in the skeleton that showed off nearly bloodred eyes. He never really spoke, Scorn took him to be some form of demon but it didn't matter as long as he was loyal to her. Finally there was Discord, perhaps Scorn's favorite. Someone with a near identical story to her. She wore a white hoodie with black skeleton upon it. Her hair was disheveled with her hood down and her face was painted as well similar to being a skull but was cracked up making it more demonic in appearance. Scorn liked to call her, her very own modern day Bloody Mary.

"If that is the case then we'll move into DX9 Territory soon, give them the same offer and if they don't like it well you know the drill," Scorn snickered "Did you bring me my present though?" She asked afterwards bouncing on her heels. For a second, Shadez left, only to return with a bundle on his shoulder and dropping it on the floor. The bundle moved eventually revealing the leader of the Lacotes Daces.

"Ah thank you Shadez," she said with a twisted grin before looking at the leader ",I warned you what would happen if you didn't accept my offer. So where shall we start?"

From the train car could be heard the agonizing screams of the man. Only those inside knew what Scorn did but the others of her gang got a pretty good idea when her three seconds in command came out with garbage bags and walked off in different tunnels to take care of the remains.

[Dark Light]

@Ace of flames01

Clay chuckled under the weight of the obnoxious she wolf. He rolled his head back as he lay on the floor.
"It wasn't the selling of his soul that changed him, it was getting it and coming back."
Clay grunts as he gets up brushing himself down.
"You need a brush, I'm gonna give you a good wash later girl." he says with a big smile looking at the hair caught on his hand.

Clay lived on a shallow bowl of emotions and thought. Taking nothing too serious and seemingly incapable of fear. However he had recently noticed a scent, beyond the superficial smells that attach to someone throughout the day from perfumes, clothing, the environment, foods and such. It was like a personal signature only few animals could see. It was Saoirse and and it troubled Clay deep in the back of his mind in the area reserved for the things he cannot remember.

"So what will it be Sassy? Go shopping and buy a shirt or help you hunt down the bitch who messed you up?
I would imagine you got a hankering for revenge by now and who knows what she's doing to your poor lover boy at this moment."

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

Dorian almost succumb to her tricks, he felt the vile anguish grow within and it was almost ready to erupt.
Had it been a few years ago threats and demands would already be spewing from his mouth along with every curse under the sun, all whilst Rose sat back and relished in his out burst further toying with and playing that button, bending him to her will.

As the sounds and thoughts echoed from within to the outer reaches of Dorians skin, a smile crawled across the corner of his lips, a daring devilish glow in his eyes. "Why Rosemarie, is that... Is that jealousy I hear in your voice?"

He softly shakes his head in a condescending matter, no longer finding her fit to look at.

"Your concern is charming, but I will be on my way now." Dorian attempts to stand up.

"It's ok Rose, one day you will find someone who will treat you all those ways you talk about." he finishes his sentence with a taunting wink.

[Ace of flames01]

@Dark Light

Saoirse laughed at Clay. "I'd like to see you try washing me, mutt. Besides, it-" She was cut off by another wave of pain. Suddenly, her vision blurred again and she collapsed onto the floor. On the ground Saoirse layed unconscious in a pool of her own blood, coughing up even more blood. Her sudden change between forms and anatomies, caused her injuries to reopen.

Meanwhile, an unknown force surrounded the manor.

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

Rose heard the word 'jealousy' and broke out in a fit of uncontrollable laughter. "Jealousy, you say? No, dear. Far from it actually. I was simply giving my beloved student one final lesson." She replied with an equally devilish grin. She turned on nearby television. The screen was separated into 4. One one of the fourths, was a live video of outside the manor, and on another was Saoirse's bedroom, all videos were live but Saoirse's bedroom was the only one that had audio. Surrounding the manor was several men, armed to the teeth with silver weaponry, closing in on Saoirse's location. Suddenly, those visions Dorian had were becoming a possible reality.

Trigger Warning!

"Do you know how many men are curious about how tight the she bitch is? They were a little reluctant at first but when they saw her face, they agreed immediately. They told me how they wanted to make that pretty face scream as they tear apart her insides."

"There are certainly some very kinky men out there. Don't worry, they won't kill her, your brother will be having the pleasure of doing that." Rose said then got up, allowing Dorian to try to stop the horror that was about to unfold.

"It's OK Dorian, one day you will find someone who will love you all those ways you talk about. " She quoted Dorian, giving him the same taunting wink and smile, as he left.

[Dark Light]

@Ace of flames01

Saoirse fell into Clays arms, the man was quick, and he effortlessly swept her up and lay her down on the bed.
"Easy there lil tough one." he whispers softly as he brushes some a loose strand of hair from her face. "Just relax, rest up, I'll take care of business."

As his words ended something dark and invisible swept around the room, every part of wolf that existed within Clay was on edge, alert and nervously ready.

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

Dorians shoes click against the hard floor with each slow passing step as he casually makes his way towards the monitors. He pauses.
"Rose, seriously, how long has it been?"
He lifts a hand and reaches out to touch the image of Saoirse. The screen flickers, the picture burns static around his touch. The very electrons buzzing at their impossible frequency feared his presence, or simply could not compete with the force of energies growing around him.

"You see I ask because I seriously do not know." He stops playing with the screen and turns to face the woman. Behind him shadows move through the tv image, static glitches, that don't physically exist but move with a pattern of occurrence too impossible to be a coincidence.

"Remember that place, it felt like a night mare... Before we got these." Dorian points to the brutal list on his arm. His torso still naked and shirtless. "Well regardless, it was real. And I have been back there, so many many times."

Dorian continues his slow haunting steps towards Rose. "I have learnt a lot from you Rose, maybe not always the lesson you intended, but a lot indeed. But unfortunately this last lesson will have to be one of theory only.

Unfortunate for you, you have left me with but only one path to fix this, and it requires a lot of blood. "

Dorians eyes catch hers and this time there is no smile.
"As do all the good magics of old, you taught me that."

[Ace of flames01]

@Dark Light
Rose laughed once more before she disappeared completely. "That's right. Blood will be spilled. The blood of your lover, that is. You say this is a theory? Well shall we test that theory, then? Better hurry, though, or your precious she bitch is going to die." Her voice echoed then faded completely; this wouldn't be the last time the two meet. On the screen, there was a large explosion outside of the manor, and the intruders had entered the building.

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

Saoirse and Clay were completely unaware of the dangers closing in, until it was too late. A loud explosion rang throughout the manor, and the intruders entered the building. They pillaged the house but took nothing, they were only looking for one thing; Saoirse.

After about an hour, they found her room. They tore down the door to find a frightened Saoirse and an angry Clay. The intruders took one good look at her and smiled, licking their lips hungrily. They made quick work of Clay, shooting him in the thighs and the shoulder several times with silver bullets, before they proceeded to restrain Saoirse.

Trigger Warning!

"Let me go!" Saoirse demanded yanking against her restraints, only to be laughed at by the intruders.

"How cute. I'm going to have LOTS of fun making you scream." One of the men replied grabbing Saoirse's jaw, pulling her face close. Saoirse growled and lurched forward; the men laughed.

"Looks like we got a fighter! Good. I like a whore with spirit! " Another man said using a blade to cut off Saoirse's shirt.

" Don't! Stop it!" Saoirse screamed both angry and terrified as they groped her bres and touched her thighs and butt. "Stop it!" She repeated screaming, trying desperately to fight back.

"Good... Keep screaming. But yer precious soulmate ain't gonna save yer pretty ass anytime soon. So why not enjoy yourself? It's gonna be a long night for you." Another man replied smiling evily, starting to pull down Saoirse's pants.

"Stop it!!! Dorian!! Darian, please!! Please help me!!! Dorian!!" Saoirse continued to scream, desperately crying, pleading for her soulmate to help her. The theories were becoming a reality.

[VarionusNW]

Arna Renheim

Arna had left her compatriot to his own devices, and left the hotel room with a considerable smile. An entire week to herself seemed like a rather decent deal. She jauntily made her way out of the building. Her demeanor seemed to garner odd looks and stares from those who could not grasp the idea of what looked like a business woman half-skipping down a hallway. She didn't care to notice or comprehend the ridiculosity of her movements as she made her way to the limousine parked outside. As soon as she got into the vehicle, she seemingly returned to normal, and began speaking to the driver.

"You know the directions, right, Dan?" She said, restraining her glee.

"Yes, miss."

"Well, then, let's go!" The vehicle started moving, and Arna started to relax, throwing the weight of her body against the seat, throwing away her "strictly business" attitude for a week. She attempted to bide her time by speaking to the driver. "So, Dan, you going to do anything special this week?"

"Just working and trying to pay the rent, miss. Not all of us can live as luxuriously as you and Mr. Nel." Arna feigned offense at this statement.

"We've only known each other for roughly 2 hours, and you're already making such comments? I don't think i'm ready to move that fast, Dan." Arna spoke with a sarcastic and playful aura that surrounded her, which was so completely different from her personality around Aurus that it seemed to shock the driver.

"Well, miss, you are definitely different than you were when Mr. Nel was with you. Are you alright?" Arna let out a slight chuckle before she responded.

"Yea, I guess I am. That guys just a dick. It's best to be strictly business around people like him. You, though, Dan, you are a decent guy, at least, you are from what I can tell."

"Thank you miss." The drive continued in relative silence, with a bit of small talk here and there, ending as soon as the vehicle approached an apartment building on some street that Arna didn't bother to remember.

"Thank you, Dan. Have a good week." Arna started to get out of the limousine, just as the driver willed up the courage to ask something stupid.

"Miss, I was wondering, since I have some time off tomorrow, if you wanted to get coffee or something?" Arna let an akward smile show on her confused face as she tried to figure out a response.

"Well, I don't like coffee, sorry!" She hurried away from the limousine, and into the apartment building, finding her way into the elevator in a flurry of confused thoughts. She dragged her bags through a hallway, checking a text message on her phone, attempting to remember the apartment number.

She found the door to her mothers apartment, and opened it with the key her mother had sent her some time ago.

"Mother! I'm here." She found herself the victim of an ambush, as her mother suddenly ran up and hugged her.

"Oh, my little Arna! How long has it been now? " She refused to let her daughter out of her grasp. The two of them looked really similar, though one of them seemed much older and wiser.

"A long while, mum." she reciprocated the hug for a second before pushing away, gathering her bags and looking around. "I like what you've done with the place.""

"So do I! I had some friends refurbish the apartment, and it turned out really nice. Anyway, let's cut to the chase." She continued to speak as she walked towards the kitchen and started to clean something off of the counters. "How is it between you and Aurus?" Her mother had an oddly mischievous grin that poured over her face.

"Mum!" Arna groaned, as she shuffled over to the couch after removing her shoes. "I already told you, I hate talking about that guy. Besides, it's strictly business between us. I have a week off from work, and I don't want to waste it by talking about the person i'm getting away from." Her mother giggled a bit as she conversed with her daughter.

"Oh, come on, he's a nice guy, he's rich, and he's kinda cute!"

"Well, then, maybe you should date him, mother." She seemed slightly agitated.

"I might just do that, thank you for the suggestion."

"Anyway, I hear that you've got a new resident, or something?" Her mother had previously sent her texts talking about the person who was staying in the apartment with her, and splitting the rent.

"Yea, they're pretty nice, I'll introduce you to each other when they get back."

"They wen't out?"

"Yea. And in a moment, you and me are going to go out to dinner and do some catching up over some good food and wine." Her mother seemed a bit excited and proud about her ability to get a reservation at a fancy restaurant.

"Can I atleast unpack my stuff first, mother?"

"Yea, yea, your room is on the left" Her mother lazily pointed to a short hallway. The first and only door on the left wall of the hall had a small sign hastily hung up that read "Arna's Room" written on it in sharpie. Arna couldn't help but laugh at this little thing before she walked into the room.

The room was small and simple, reminding Arna of the places she and her mother had stayed in years ago. Her mother seemed to be more comfortable in those sorts of spaces than Arna had ever been, though, it brought a bit of nostalgic thought to Arna's head as she unpacked her things. She had the quick thought to change into a nicer dress, as her normal clothes just didn't seem right for dinner with one's mother.

Once she had changed, she stepped out of the room to see her mother waiting by the door, seemingly anxious to go.

"Let's go, already!" Her mother said, anxiously.

"Yea, yea, alright." Arna replied. The mother and daughter walked out of the apartment, heading off to some restaurant.

[Karos]

Brian Maxwell

Brian's chauffeur opened the door of the sleek black limousine as it sat in the drive outside the restaurant. Brian stepped out into the cold night air cane in one hand, hat in the other. With one fluid motion he rested the hat on his head before checking his suit.

'How do I look Marc?' he asked his driver, his strong south-English accent making him stand out amongst the half-dozen American diners coming and going from the restaurant's entrance.

'Most excellent sir' replied Marc nodding his head and shutting the door to the car as he did so.
'Now you're not just saying that because I sign your pay cheques now are you?' Brian laughed.
'Of course not sir' Marc replied jovially, 'any idea when you'll want me to bring the car back around?'
'I'm afraid not Marc, I'll make sure to give you plenty of notice.'
'Alright sir' said Marc getting back behind the wheel of the limousine, 'oh and good luck sir.'

With that the limousine drove away leaving Brian stood outside the restaurant quite alone. He was well dressed, maybe a little too well dressed, but he always preferred being over dressed to being under dressed. He walked up to the front door of the restaurant, the marble steps leading to the front door evoked a triple clack as he walked, his shoes and cane clicking smartly as he walked.

Once inside Brian admired the décor. The room was dark; reds, blacks and golds seemed to make up most of the colour palette, with the odd dash of white thrown in here and there for good measure. Ornate lights hung from above most of the tables, around which all manner of well dressed people were laughing and chatting quite at their ease.

A waiter came up to Brian, who'd been stood in the entry way for at least a good minute by this point. 'Can I help you sir?' he inquired, the drawl of his American accent snapping Brian back to the moment at hand.
'Yes err yes,' replied Brian trying to regain some composure 'I'm looking for someone, name of Arna I was hoping you could check the booking for me?'
'I am sorry sir but we don't go giving out the details of our Patrons, that's just our policy...' the man stopped talking as Brian held up his wrist and showed him the ink. The man's face distorted for a second as he considered his options.
'Alright sir, I think I can make an exception if that's the case. Let me check the records for you.'
'Thank you' replied Brian nodding his head and following the waiter to a small podium atop which was a booking ledger.

Whilst the waiter flicked through the pages of the ledger Brian looked over the guests again. With a thought he activated the binary interface chip and suddenly a swarm of data swam inside his head. Text messages, emails, photos and more flowed around him. He sifted through it trying to find what he was looking for. He knew what she looked like of course, a man with his resources and his determination it'd be more exceptional if he didn't know. As he picked through the data he found what he was looking for, a photo that matched what he already had stored away. Definitely here then he thought to himself.
'Here we are sir' remarked the waiter snapping Brian out his thoughts once again, 'She's at a table upstairs would like me to?'
'Can you get me a table on the same floor?' replied Brian as calmly as he could manage, 'Oh and send over a konyak if you would' the request added as what seemed a prudent after thought.
'Err yes sir um if you'd like to follow me please' the waiter took a menu from the podium and led Brian up a flight of wooden stairs. The decor of the second floor matched that of the downstairs. Brian followed the waiter his eyes fixed on the man's course through the chairs and tables. He only looked away once, and that was when he saw her in person for the first time. A small blonde haired woman elegantly dressed sat with what Brian assumed to be her mother. He averted his gaze lest people thought he was staring and sat down at the table the waiter had led him to. Taking the menu and laying it on the table he took a slender black notebook from inside his jacket and unclipped a silver fountain pen from his front pocket. He tore a page from the note book scribbling on it before handing it to the waiter. He took a $20 from his jacket pocket handing it to the waiter after he looked confused by the note. 'Please give that to Mrs Arna, there's a good chap' he said by means of an explanation. The waiter pocketed the bill before folding and placing the note in his top pocket.
'Of course sir' he nodded, 'I'll have someone bring your drink over.'
'Make that two' replied Brian.
'Of course sir' smiled the waiter walking over to one his fellows. He pointed back to Brian and then nodded before walking over to Arna's table. When he got there he took the note from his pocket and handed it to her, before pointing back to Brian. Brian felt a sharp stinging in his wrist and he glared at it for a moment. Before accepting a pair of glasses offered to him by a waiter. He picked up one glass as he recalled what he'd written on the note, Check the ink, Brian.

[Dark Light]

trigger warning?

Step 1: Clarity and focus
'About time' Dorian thought to himself as Rose finally vanished. He had seen the magics of her escape primed and ready since his arrival. He had only need push her to them.
Finally, solitude.
He stood before the monitors, the bi-product of her sick sadism, a blessing in disguise.
Being able to physically see the location made things much easier than working from vague memories. It gave him a live-action real-time point of focus. It gave him a a smile of confidence.

But first, despite all the things to soon come, Dorian does the one thing that furthers him the most from morality and humanity. Without hesitation, he switches it off.
Like the sudden flick of a switch his inner light instantly ceases to exist. His presence nothing but a hollow empty shell, the entirety of his eyes void of any colour, windows to the bleak non-existence of his soul. The emotions of sympathy, empathy and morality all lost to a cold heart caught in the space between beats. Should Saoirse notice it, the name on her arm swelled to a sickly dark colour like that of a bubbling bruise. Dorian was no more.

Step 2: the bond or connection.
There was already much that Dorian could use as inspiration to create his connection to the homestead. Sympathy of two points depended on their bond. While the walls held no history of his or family heritage, he had lived no major events or memories within its confines, basically none of the major sentimental things that would create the strongest of bridges between himself and a location. He did have a few other things. His possessions, the legal document of entitlement to the establishment, the blood of his brother and the pull of his soulmate. All these would act more enough to help defy the physics of distance.

But his ambition called for a purely seamless transaction between locations, he would not settle for the loss of strength or a delay in time due to inferior practices. His enemies would know the full unrelenting merciless wrath of his vengeance. Rose would hear of his power.

To fully enhance the sympathy from his current location to the house he had to replicate his runic signature that was created in the basement. To make the bond even stronger he would draw it with the same materials as before, his own blood.

Drawing blood was easy and effortless, without mind to it the creature put a finger in his mouth and tore away the flesh without so much as a flinch. Self preservation always came first, so an ancient rune was scribed onto his chest with the blood. The rune demanded and commanded the very laws of nature to act in a certain way.

Next he knelt and began the circle that would surround him. His bleeding finger dragged through the dirt and grime along the cold hard floor. He wielded the dripping blood like an artist would paint. An unnatural force guiding and moulding the form and placement of the fresh burning crimson liquid. As he went around runes began to emerge. Linked by symbols, patterns and long forgotten letters. Next a sizzling began, the liquid thrummed as a thin smoke began to rise.

Dorian stopped drawing and sat back in the centre of his circle. The markings on his chest glowing as the wound on his finger closed shut. He had given the circle all the blood he could and now even though he stopped giving, new runes still rolled to life as his blood continued to sprawl about on the floor. It slowly crept, crawling all around him in mesmerising hypnotic patterns, leaving and connecting more powerful symbols in its wake.
The creature that was Dorian had began chanting some time ago, unbeknown even to himself. Drawn into the mystical moment, dark abyssal words flowed freely off of his diabolical tongue. They resonated with an intense passion, as hypnotic as the rolling blood around him they were alluring, exciting and horrifying.

A ring of flame erupted around the circle and bellowed with heavy grey smoke. It surrounded him like a wall. In that wall, amongst the rippling pattern of flame and smoke Dorian saw the room, he saw the men, Clay on the floor and Saoirse in the bed. He saw it all, he was there.

Step 3: Death, horrible terrifying death.
He was there but wasn't. Dorian saw everything through the rippled shades and shapes of rolling smoke and flame. While his vision was not the best, his prey would never see him at all. Dorian was at the interpass of two or more worlds, existing in neither but with influence over both.

Saoirse no longer screamed, now only sobbing. But in this place the shrill of her cry still echoed about with the muffled distortion of being underwater. It hit Dorian like a full cyclone.
Pure aggression and malice surged through Dorian. His intense hatred manifesting around the room in the form of cluttering and falling objects, the dimming and dying of lights and foul growing patches of rotten mold.
A violent silent roar escapes his ethereal form. His breath catches the flames that surround him and lapse them over the confused man climbing off Saoirse. The invisible fire fuelled by uncontainable malicious rage crawls under the mans skin and begins to burn him from within.

There is nothing he could do to save himself, all the screaming, rolling around and tearing off of his clothes couldn't stop his muscles and organs cooking from within as his flesh boiled, blistered and popped in front of his very eyes, until they too burnt and melted out of their sockets. When he was crying on the floor and his breaths were dry and raspy, only then did the hatred settle, even if only to let him suffer his last moments in prolonged agony.

Next...

It wasn't until Dorians carnage had began did the two men stop their beating and torturing of the injured, bloody, bruised and broken bullet riddled Clay. Despite all odds, amongst the following chaos he fought heaven and hell to drag him self onto Saoirse's bed where he wrapped his arms around her head and just held her. Shielding her eyes and ears from what was about to come. Giving her a hidden place against his chest to cry unseen. Space to vent. Space to escape into where she could forget what had happened, what was going to happen, and what was happening around her. It was a place that wasn't here.
A sad notion of fickle safety and a desperate attempt to shield her from it all, at least until it was over. But right now it was something. That had to be better then nothing. With what could have been Clay's last breaths, he gives them to her.

"Hold tight, you're gonna be ok."

But
Next....

Pistols, wonderful toys. Dorian who was in no shortage of malevolent spirits, pulled one from the obfuscating smoke surrounding him. After breathing into it his will, he sent the unseen vile cloud afloat in the direction of a pistol wielding goon.

Having just given breath Dorian turns to a man causing a ruckus of vibrations in his world. He sees the strings that bond his senses to the physical existence, and cuts them all. The man instantly becomes blind, deaf and tasteless. Dorian doesn't stop there he begins cutting away at motor functions, thoughts and even memories. One by one, slither by slither, Dorian grinds the man into a drooling vegetable. Meanwhile his malevolent cloud gets to work on its victim.

With every breath the other man took the invisible darkness seeped further and further into his lungs. Inside it fed and grew, a man on a job like this was already full of his own darkness. Soon his heart was pumping pure oil in place of blood. It trickled down the veins in his left arm making a painful display as it became clearly visible, the slick black lines a contrast against his white pale skin. It seemed to rest when it reached his hand.
Panic took the man as he soon realised he could not control his own arm. He fell to the floor as he fought to keep the gun away from himself. A maddening confusion in his eyes.

BANG! The gun went off. There was a moment of hesitant silence, and a sigh of relief as his hand relaxed and he realised he wasn't hit.

THUD! A nearby goon fell into his lap, head wide open leaving blood and brains dripping out all over him. In the short moment of a panicked cry the darkness once again took his arm and before he could fight it it aimed the barrel of the pistol down at his own groin.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

His whimpers didn't last long until he bled to death.

Dorian felt the unexpected feeling of eyes upon him, it shot up his spine like electricity. He frantically looked around the room to see no one gazing in his direction. Then he noticed it, a man frozen in fear staring at a cabinet. Dorian could not see it from his view but he was smart and still sane enough to realise the man was looking at a mirror, and what he saw in the reflection was very far from the Dorian Saoirse had seen.

Dorian slowly walked behind the trembling man, he could practically see his heart palpitating in fear. Dorian reached between worlds to grab the man by the back of his neck. The sizzling and hissing of melting flesh resumed along with the stench of burning hair. The victim flayed madly and fought, swinging weapons and guns, but he couldn't break Dorians grip. Dorian stared where his reflection would be, then he called to it.
The mirror shattered into a thousand tiny shards which exploded free and flew at the helpless mans face. Every single razor sharp slice of glass trying to pierce its way into his eyes. One after another they plummeted into free space or the back of another, goo and blood splashing oozing and dripping about. Meanwhile he recoiled like the victim of a machine gun. Even when he fell to the floor the trajectory turned as to allow the glass to tear open his face and reach his eyes from any angle necessary.

A frightened man fled out the door way and started hammering down the hallway to the front door, he opened it and instantly dropped to his knees crying out and pleading in desperation. He was back in Saoirse's room, kneeling before the carnage.

He looked to the now four dead bodies and the one with severe burns all over. They were once people he knew.
He looked to the walls and every other surface, all splattered with their blood. He smelt hell amongst gun powder and burning flesh. He began to pray, praying to a god he defied all his life as he begged for forgiveness. Dorian was not his god nor was he forgiving.

Dorian grabbed the pitiful man and hurled him across the room like a rag doll. Bones crunched as he slammed into the wall and crumpled to the floor. Death could be dealt so swiftly but this had become more then petty vengeance or justice, deep down Dorian was still man and therefore susceptible to the addiction of power.

He hurled the man again, and again until he no longer screamed. Then he decapitated his head with an open window. Down stairs new screams echoed out as a swift breeze runs through the rest of the house slicing and decapitating legs, ankles and knees alike. Not one of them would leave walking.

More cries of pain from a single person as one by one every joint in the mans body forcibly snaps in the opposing direction until he lay helpless on the floor.
Another man laughs while he uncontrollably feeds his own arm into the garbage disposal.
Nearly every kitchen knife finds a new home in the few men trying to flee across the lawn.

Sheer horrifying chaos and death ensued for the next few long moment as limbs, screams and bodily fluids were strewn around the house. It was as if the very house itself gnawed upon the bodies. Finally silence took its hold as all fell still.

...

From behind the locked impenetrable doors of Dorians cellar the wheezing coughing cries of the burnt man rung out dryly. Behind hidden doors Dorian marks the mans scolded flesh, the painful cries ring out long after he lost all breath. By the time anyone eventually gets into the room the man and spirit of Dorian are gone.

Step 4: Costs

----back at the warehouse------

First the smoke clears, then the bright tall flames settle. A man kneels amongst a pool of blood. Shirtless he wears only tattered pants. His torso, frail, thin and pale is etched with many scars, names that nearly conceal every part of his bare flesh.
He opens his eye lids to reveal empty sockets. Bony fingers reach out to grab the burnt man laying before him.
The two disfigured humans bare the same runic symbol on their chest.

Dorians madness didn't come without a cost. These new names were not like the others on his wrist. This was not a cleaning, this was debt. His debt. Everyone was either at a deals end or on the wrong side of another's deal, and Dorian job was to collect. He had become personal misfortune.

The flames of his circle crackled back to life as they reignited, but this time it was different. He didn't call them. They were calling him.
Dorian had filled himself with so much infernal power that he was now more demon then man. The most powerful underlying forces of nature and laws of creation considered him as such too. Therefore affecting him as such a being.
The flames leapt up and shackled Dorian as he desperately grasped onto his victim. He could not fight them, it was inevitable. There was just no way he could fight the plight of existence. But he could drag this bastard to hell with him. So he did.

"Saoirse. I'm sorry, forgive me for I have failed you."

@Ace of flames01

[Ace of flames01]

@Dark Light

Saoirse watched in horror as one of the men in front of her burned from the inside out, right in front of her eyes. It was then that Clay sheilded her from the unearthly horrors that were about to transpire. For what felt like an eternity, she could hear and smell of nothing but death that was something truly unholy. The agonizing screams, burning flesh, blood. This sensation invaded every pore of her being as all hell broke loose. Though she could not see any of what was happening, she knew. This was Dorian's doing.

Saoirse hid her face in Clay's chest, taking in his scent; the scent of another wolf, hoping that it would mask the horrible scent of an unholy death. However, she instead received fragments of memories. She saw the death of many, many wolves. People she knew, people she loved, all of them; dead. Standing over their bodies were several smiling faces; humans. News paper clippings, words, pictures of humans, pictures of wolves, more words, smiling faces. Memories swirling around and around, constantly spinning, changing, distorting in a whirlpool of madness and insanity in her mind. Saoirse didn't want to remember, she wanted to forget. She wanted to forget. She wanted to forget. She wanted to forget! ... Darkness. This was the night Saoirse forgot.

Saoirse tightly closed her eyes and held her head as the memories and a throbbing pain engulfed her mind. "I remember... I remember...! I remember! I remember!! I remember so please stop! Please stop taking the people I love!" She screamed at an unknown, invisible force, clasping head tightly, begging for the pain to go away! Then suddenly, darkness. Saoirse fainted.

When Saoirse awoke, the carnage had ended. She looked up at Clay and tears swelled up in her eyes. "I remember... They killed my pack. My mother, my family, my friends... They're all dead... They killed them all..." She whispered, covering up her eyes with her arm. Just then, a new sensation stirred in her body. Dorian was no longer of this world. She didn't know how to describe it, other than she couldn't feel him anymore. He wasn't dead, however, he wasn't exactly alive either.

"He's gone..." Saoirse breathed, her eyes stretch wide with fear, tears ran down her cheeks. "Nonononononononononononono...!" Terrified, she looked at her wrist, begging that Dorian's name was still there. Thankfully, it was. Saoirse felt an enormous wave of relief wash over her, then she hugged her wrist tightly. "Oh thank god...! He's still alive! He's still alive!!" She whispered relieved. She looked back at Clay with tears of joy and hugged him tightly. "He's alive!!"

This joy quickly subsided and, once again, turned to fear. "But... Where is he now...?" Saoirse murmered, releasing Clay.

[Dark Light]

"Arghh..." Clay lets out a long raspy groan. On short intermittent breaths he continues. "I'm gla..." "Uh, glad you can remember." Clays face scrunches as he twists slightly while taking in a deep breath.
"If you're feeling g'ah, good now.. Can you.. Can you get me help?"

Clay ends his short speech with a painful cough laughter.
The blank ink that once concealed his soulmates hidden name was now removed and gave way to a vibrant swollen red skin.
Amongst the fresh tattoo removal was the name, Daniele Radshaw.

[Ace of flames01]

@Dark Light

Saoirse reacted immediately, before Clay had evenn finished speaking. She gently laid Clay down onto her bed, in her place then took off her already shredded T-shirt and ripped it into strands. "Hold still, this is gonna hurt and will only hurt more if you squirm. Thankfully, it doesn't look like any of the bullets are in your body so you won't get silver poisoning. Let me guess. Danielle Radshaw is Dorian's wife, right? That's why is was covered up? Because if he saw he'd be pissed at you?" She said glancing at Clay's wrist, seemingly indifferent. She proceeded to take off Clay's jacket, twist up a strand of T-shirt into a small guaze, and shove it into the bullet holes. She sighed then wrapped up Clay's chest with another strand. "Don't worry. I won't tell him if he doesn't already know."

Saoirse then addressed Clay's thighs. "Now. Can you change your own clothes or do I have to play the 'sexy' nurse?" She asked with an unamused and disapproving expression. Thankfully, she was still wearing a bra, however this didn't change the fact that she felt uncomfortable. She didn't want to remain in such an awkward situation unless it was necessary.

She decided not to stick around for Clay's answer and took a new shirt to change into as she went to the shower and locked the door behind her. She stripped down on rest of the way, then turned on the water and stepped into the shower. She sat down in the tub, curled up into a little ball, and just sat there, letting the warm water rain down on her body. Eventually she found herself singing again as she thought of her soulmate and wondered if he was alright.

Song

"I thought that I'd been hurt before
But no one's ever left me quite this sore
Your words cut deeper than a knife
Now I need someone to breathe me back to life

Got a feeling that I'm going under
But I know that I'll make it out alive
If I quit calling you my lover
Move on

You watch me bleed until I can't breathe
Shaking, falling onto my knees
And now that I'm without your kisses
I'll be needing stitches
Tripping over myself
Aching, begging you to come help
And now that I'm without your kisses
I'll be needing stitches

Just like a moth drawn to a flame
Oh, you lured me in, I couldn't sense the pain
Your bitter heart cold to the touch
Now I'm gonna reap what I sow
I'm left seeing red on my own

Got a feeling that I'm going under
But I know that I'll make it out alive
If I quit calling you my lover
Move on

You watch me bleed until I can't breathe
Shaking, falling onto my knees
And now that I'm without your kisses
I'll be needing stitches
Tripping over myself,
Aching, begging you to come help
And now that I'm without your kisses
I'll be needing stitches

[x3:]
Needle and the thread,
Gotta get you out of my head
Needle and the thread,
Gonna wind up dead

Needle and the thread,
Gotta get you out of my head, get you out of my head

You watch me bleed until I can't breathe
Shaking, falling onto my knees (falling on my knees)
And now that I'm without your kisses
I'll be needing stitches (and I'll be needing stitches)
Tripping over myself,
Aching, begging you to come help (begging, "Baby, please.")
And now that I'm without your kisses
I'll be needing stitches

(And now that)
I'm without your kisses
I'll be needing stitches
(And now that)
I'm without your kisses
I'll be needing stitches"

[VarionusNW]

Arna Renheim

Arna and her mother conducted a fair amount of small talk over the course of a taxi ride to the restaurant. Conversations about the state of Nelcorp and sorcery casually floated between the two until the discussion got to the name and date on Arna's wrist.

"Yea, todays the day." Arna said, looking longingly at her own wrist, the ink a permanant reminder of her fate.

"Did you ever look him up?" Arna's mother asked, looking over at her daughter, who pulled her phone from her purse.

"Yea, obviously there's no way to know that this is the right guy, but I looked his name up online yesterday, before we left. Here" she pulled up a wikipedia article containing a picture of Brian Maxwell.

"Ooo, nice. I certainly hope it's him. Well, he's not quite a hunk like Aurus, but he looks charming." She snatched away Arna's phone, looking through the wikipedia page. "Oh. Oh! He's smart and rich! You ARE getting with this guy no matter what.. well, if he is your soulmate, anyway." Arna quickly snatched back her phone, her face glaring at her mother in a perturbed fashion.

"MOTHER!" Arna's mother giggled a bit as Arna defensively clutched both her wrist and her phone. "Can you at least try to act with a little more civility or something?"

"Civility, I don't know what you're talking about, dear."

They got to the restaurant, mentioned their reservation, and were taken to a table upstairs. They had been there for almost an hour by the time they finished their meals. They were simply talking and sipping wine. Arna's mother gave the bottle a number of harsh looks and glances.

"I don't know if I particularly like this.. vintage.. that's what their called, right?" Arna stiffled a laugh, as she watched her mother conduct herself in such a silly manor.

"Mother, you're no wine conessour, are you?"

"What, and you are?"

"I dabble."

The conversation between parent and child was immedietly interrupted by a dull burning sensation emmenating from Arna's wrist, and a subdued look of suprise and joy from her mother, who seemed to notice something, or someone behind Arna.

"Arna, isn't that him!?" She leaned slightly forward, and spoke in a half whisper as if they were high school students gossiping about some boy.

"Who?"

"Him!" She motioned towards a man who looked remarkably like the photo they had looked at earlier.

"Brian Maxwell." Arna muttered under her breath as she clutched her right hand around her left wrist, which seemed to be inlaid with glowing ink which burned her skin. The waiter who had led Brian to his table walked over to Arna and her mother, and quickly handed Arna a piece of paper.

"Sorry, to bother you."

"It's alright." Arna read the short message which confirmed what both she and her mother had thought. Brian Maxwell was most definitely Arna's soulmate. The woman was wracked with glee, which she attempted to restrain, leaving her lightly shaking.

"Are you alright miss?" The waiter politely asked.

"Yes, i'm fine." Arna's mother began to prepare for the pair to leave, paying the bill and whatnot, while Arna pulled a pen out of her purse, and jotted something on the back of Brian's note. She had written her phone number and email address so that Brian could contact her at a better time. Her plan was to go back to her mother's apartment, sleep, wake up in the morning, and then think about contacting Brian. Arna was too flustered at the moment to take on such a challenge as talking to the man.

The pair got up to leave, both happy with their meal, and with at least Arna's mother being joyful at the turn that the night took. On their way out, Arna passed by Brian's table, and silently handed the note to Brain. Her hand still shook, but her face had reduced in it's level of worry. She was still worried, of course, but she seemed to be smiling radiantly at the man who dared to have his name on her wrist.

@Karos

[Dark Light]

@Ace of flames01

Slowly but surely hours passed into days. Clays injuries went from life threatening to merely a painful inconvenience. The chauffeur of the sleek black Mercedes returned once again, insisting his already covered expenses included more than just driving.
In a sombre silence the blood was mopped from the floors and wiped from the walls. Body parts were removed from the house and cupboards and cutlery returned to their rightful position.
No one questioned the unexplainable, no one wanted to know. Mind and eyes numb to the task at hand they drudge on through the necessary duties without pleasure or complaint.

Max, was what Clay had become accustomed to calling the old wiry silver moustached man even though he explained that his name was Maxwell.
Max responded by always using Sir and Madam. He soon proved his skills extended far beyond merely driving as he began to take care of shopping, cooking and the laundry. In fact it seemed there was nothing he couldn't do, Clay quickly became partial to his generosity and took advantage of this new level of luxury.

In the lost hours alone at night Clayton clasped the name on his wrist and looked at the lifestyle which Dorian had built for himself, the lifestyle he had began to experience himself for the first time. The nice things, a stable reliable house, simple luxuries... A woman.

Clay hated the wolf within him for good reason, but he hated reflecting on choices of the past even more. He let the beast slowly consume him, fur bursting out through his skin, highly agitating and itchy. Then came the sickening grinding of bones and the squelching of reforming muscle. No pain was spared at his expense. Before it went too far Clay stumbled down the stairs and ran out side, the pounding of his feet soon becoming the thudding of four large paws as he tore across the grass towards the nearby faint tree line, leaving his nightwear behind soaking in the dirt.

He would run free and wild, stalking, hunting and preying on anything he could find. When eventually tiring he would retreat back to the house before first light and attempt to sneak back up into his room.

[Ace of flames01]

@Dark Light

Hours slowly turned to days, all the while Saoirse tried to help clean up around the house and do repairs, as she waited for Dorian to return. Of course, she found herself becoming impatient. She just couldn't shake the feeling that he was in trouble.

Night was once again falling when suddenly, Saoirse smelled another wolf. Clay. Soon after she saw him make for the forest. Hurriedly, Saoirse ran to kitchen and grabbed sealed bag of some sort of substance, then chased after Clay. Luckily, he left a heavy trail of broken branches, paw prints, and his scent behind him, making it easy to track him. Even in her human form, Saoirse was fast, incredibly fast. In a matter of 10 minutes, she had caught up with Clay.

"Look at you! Looking good! So you finally wolfed out? Hold still , I want to get a good look at you!" Saoirse said smiling as sat down infront of him and lifted Clay's head. She looked him over thoroughly; her smile grew wider. "A heterochromia, huh? Jesus! You're huge! By far one of the largest wolves I've even seen! And look at that fur! Starlight! But I suppose that's only natural since you are a pretty light blonde in your human form."

Saoirse took out the bag she had snatched earlier, opened it and looked back at Clay and smiled again, before taking out a piece of beef jerky and tearing it in half with her teeth. "I'm gonna guess you don't hunt much, judging by how you restrict your wolf half, yeah? You're probably craving some meat by now. You want some? It's beef jerky!" Saoirse replied offering some half of the strand she bit in half. "You gotta stop holding back your wolf instincts; it only makes it more painful when you finally do wolf out. Besides, this is what you are now. Everything you see, you hear, you feel, that's normal for us. You are normal. The sooner you embrace that fact the easier it will be on you."

With that said, Saoirse fell silent as she became lost in thought. "I think... I think I should go back to the wearhouse... And searched for Dorian. He's been gone for a few days and after that display of killing those men; I'm getting worried." She finally spoke, though her voice had become quiet and all former happiness and excitement had drained away.

[Dark Light]

@Ace of flames01

At first the wolf was hesitant, instinct told it to run or attack.
But even though seeing Saoirse for the first time through the altered view of the wolfs eyes, Clay's recognition of her shape and smell overrode all insecurities.
The wolf relaxed and it's nose twitched as he sniffed the meat in her hand, taking it as gently as possible.

Clay heard and understood every word spoken but he would not come to terms or realise the content of her speech until the memories of the night came flooding back to him, with headaches and migraines, after the reverting transformation.
Clay and the wolf were still two separate creatures, he had never learned to bridge that gap. While the wolf held the essentials and core of what made Clay who he is, there wasn't room for conscious critical thinking. Animal desire and instinct might have been guided by Clay's own, but the wolf was still very much wild.

Either picking up on Saoirse's sudden change of mood, the sorrow or simply wanting some more jerky. With silent steps the wolf moves forward and gently nudges and nuzzles her. A caring yet heavy paw drops down on her leg accidentally scratching through cloth and skin.
Upon realisation, an apologetic rough tongue appears and kisses-better/cleans the wound.

[Ace of flames01]

@Dark Light

Suddenly, Saoirse felt Clay nudge her and could only assume that he was hungry. She didn't even flinch when he scratched her. Saoirse grinned and gently pet Clay's neck a bit. "Ah, sorry. You're probably still hungry, yeah? Here, you can have the rest and come back home in the morning, OK? I'll leave you a fresh change of clothes and some medicine out for you." Saoirse said tearing open the bag a little more, so Clay could get to the jerky easier. She then stood up and headed back to the manor at a walking pace, giving Clay a slight wave.

The walk back home was a little bit longer than the run out into the woods, but Saoirse managed to get there before the first light. Just as she had told Clay, Saoirse had gotten him a change of clothes, a large black T-shirt and sweat pants, and some medicine and a glass of water. She left them on a table just next to the door.

Afterwards, Saoirse went to the wearhouse... Alone. She didn't care if she was being reckless; she knew a potential trap when she saw one. All scents of potential threats had gone stale; nobody has been here since the incident a few days ago. The scent that remained somewhat fresh, was Dorian's. Soon after upon entering, Saoirse saw what remained of the blood circle. She kneeled down in the center of the circle and touch the inside edge of it. Surprisingly, it was hot to the touch, like it had somehow been recently used.

Saoirse sat down in the center of the circle and sighed. Dorian wasn't here. "Damnit Dorian! Where the hell are you?!" She said half frustrated, and half afraid, as she combed her fingers through her hair.