CosmicVixen

Prey Tell (Or Keep It To Yourself){Accepting Players!}

~ Neirie ~

She giggled softly as she noticed Bo following them, bringing up the rear of the group. As they came to the edge of town and wandered into the more wooded areas beyond, her demeanor shifted slightly to more of a watchful and protective haunch in her shoulders. They came upon the tree tunnel and her demeanor shifted yet again to an almost giddy bounce. As the others hurdled themselves down the slide like tunnel, she turned around and slid down backwards. Noticing the pile up at the end of the lovely slide, she quickly teleported to her feet just past the pile of hunter and the other super naturals.
Her bright pink eyes still glowing with hunger, they flashed rapidly back and forth as she tried to take in all the lovely sights as quickly as possible. Almost bouncing from one area to another, she began teleporting in short hops around the area. First appearing in front of the waterfall, then behind, then next to Vie and Darnies then next to some of the undergrowth. Trying to keep her excitement inside her chest she then glanced at Darnies with a sad frown as she could hear the sadness in his voice and feel the heat wafting off of the manacles as he held them.
She was just about to teleport to his side to relieve him of them just as Simon began to take control of the situation.
Haunting memories flooded her mind as the years and years of training that could be viewed to some humans as torture, replayed through her minds eye. She shook her head from side to side rather rapidly and a large cheshire grin replaced her previous frown as Darnies asked whether she and Boo were fans of a good smoke. She giggled and teleported next to him and Vie and nodded quickly.
Her pink eyes glanced only momentarily at the bag of blood being thrown around but then merely shrugged it off while pushing her fingertips together in giddy anticipation.

Serrig

As he trudged up the stairs along the front of the building, Serrig shook each leg a couple times trying to secure the rest of the feeling still returning to his feet after the long ride. Trying to make notes of his surroundings as he approached the doorways, he always tried to remember anything that could be useful later. Like quick escape routes or objects to be used for weapons. One of the first things his glances noticed was the beautiful ivy seemingly covering the entire building in dense growth. Quite beautiful, if not alittle saddening. It reminded him of the dense growth on the buildings of his home village and how most of it had been burnt away that night, now so long ago. He smirked and sighed heavily, opening the door closest to him and continuing inside. He came to what he assumed was the 'front desk' and smile casually at the gentleman behind it.
"'Ello there. I'm looking for the apartment in which this lovely key i was sent belongs to? Would like to settle in to my new, temporary home."
The gentleman merely smiled softly and held out his hand to examine the key.
Rolling it in his hand a couple times he merely smiled again and handed it back to Serrig.
"Looks like the 3rd floor room 38C. Pre Furnished for your convience. If you require anything during your stay with us, your room phone calls this desk directly. Feel free to call and ask whatever you desire. Rent is due by the 3rd of the month. Please enjoy Gravette."
Serrig blinked a few times, his body stiffened. The man spoke like a machine and his entire body seemed to not move as he spoke. Serrig nodded and cleared his throat somewhat awkwardly.
"Yes well. Okay then. Thank you?..."
The man merely nodded and stepped back into his previous position, hands at his sides amd staring at basically nothing.
A small awkward shiver slid down Serrig's back as he picked up his luggage and headed for the stairway.
Making quickly up the 3 flights of stairs he paused in the doorway of his hallway. Letting out a sigh as the hallway wasn't nearly as creepy as he was assuming it would be, he wandered down the hall quickly until he found his door.
Quickly sliding the key in and popping the door open, a slight smirk crossed his face. There wasn't much, but the few things and pieces of furniture there Was, seemed cozy and comfortable.
He dragged his luggage to the center of the small dining/living room area and plopped it onto the floor as he slumped down into the loveseat couch. Or what he assumed was a loveseat, seeing as it barely held him like a lazy boy chair. Sighing gently again he pulled himself into a standing position and decided to glance around the rest of his Home. The kitchen was small but plenty for his needs. There were plenty of dishes in the cabinets and cooking things under the small stove. The fridge was plenty enough for him to keep leftovers and small ingredients for himself. Wandering lazily past the love chair he grabbed up one of his bags and headed toward what he assumed was the bedroom. It was a nice sized room with a large bed taking up the center. Another small door led to the fairly nice sized bathroom with a lovely tub, large standing stone shower and plenty of room on the large counter for any makeup having person.
Well this was perfect. Enough room and things so he didn't have to try and find a store to get anything temporary from. But also small and cozy so he didn't feel overwhelmed and alone.
Nodding solemnly he decided it was time for a hose down and then finding where to get some good food to start off his day.

Prey Tell (Or Keep It To Yourself){Accepting Players!}

~ Neirie ~

As Josip finished his second monologue for the morning, Neirie squinted her face for a moment. Did he really think so badly of every sentient being? Just because they were more powerful? Don't get it wrong mind you, ever since becoming a vampire all those centuries ago she's considered herself more of a monster than anything. And she knew that a lot of beings like herself with power and abilities rarely used them for anything good. But she didn't think EvErY being with supernatural abilities was evil just by nature.
As Josip collapsed Neirie's shoulders sagged in slight relief but with a hint of sadness. This man seemed very troubled, not just as a Hunter, but as a human. He seemed to have a battle going on in his own soul and mind that made the monsters he faced in the real world that much more terrifying. As Simon seemed to both simultaneously be eager and dread the chance to poke the man for questions, Neirie collapsed her bow and slid it back into her Batpack. She sighed heavily, turning to glance at the being Darnies called Aharon, as he came up beside them. This beings energy was massive and amazing! She'd never quite felt it this way before. She'd only ever come across Fallen Celestials or Angels of Death. This was something else. Keeping her gleaming eyes on the 'Celestial', she took one last quick glance at Josip and whispered under her breath, "Who we are, and who we need to be to survive, are two very different things." Her bright pink eyes appeared to physically glaze over for a brief moment, seemingly lost in time and memory. Almost as if she had recalled the swaying shadows to engulf her, her aura itself seemed to be made of dark grey smoke and shadows as she almost disappeared into her past.
"How do you destroy a Monster... Without becoming one? Perhaps that's why you're so tormented?..."
She blinked and glanced upwards and her eyes and aura were back to their usual energetic self, as if nothing had even momentarily transpired. She kept her gaze on Aharon until he returned to the bar and then she smirked widely and bounced as Chasa threw Josip over her shoulder and Darnies beckoned them to come along. She abruptly brought her feet together, pressing her hands together in front of her, while quickly jotting her head down in a bowing motion towards Darnies.
"Oh! Forgive me! You may call me Neirie, it is a pleasure to make your aq... She trailed off as she stood and realized he was already halfway down the alley making the human man shimmer oddly. Ah, he must be hiding him somehow. Clever little thing he was. She glanced back at Simon and the Bonnie girl and raised a hand to wave at the girl, "i hope you come along Boo! I'd very much like a new friend, and you seem very fun!" She smiled a broad cheshire grin and lightly bounce walked, briskly, to catch up behind Darnies.

Serrig

The sun hadn't even come across the hills yet this morning as Serrig pulled his motorcycle onto one of the roads near Gravette's main road. Rolling slowly down the smaller street, his eyes darted back and forth behind his riding goggles as he searched for either the correct address or a sign for the building he wanted to find. He took another long drag from the cigar in his grasp and after a few seconds, sighed a poof of smoke across the handlebars. Suddenly a smug smirk came across his lips, placed under his riding mask which was printed to look like a wolf skull.
He pulled the bike into a parking spot to the side of a sign for the Ivy View Apartments. Turning the key for the engine, he leaned back with a silent groan.
Though he had been riding off and on for years and knew his body went through more painful things every time the moon was full, a long ride, especially in brisk wind, also stiffened him up after six or more hours on the road.
He took one last drag and put out his cigar in the portable ash tray attached to his bike. Sliding a hand to pull off his goggles, he closed his eyes and streaked his other hands fingers through his hair, making him realize it was about time to get it cut. He opened his eyes as he pulled down the heavy cloth mask that sat like a handkerchief across his nose. Letting the mask rest around his neck and shoulders like a scarf he cranked his neck and head back and forth, large popping sounds coming forthwith.
"Emph. Well Stella, " he patted the side of the bike like a horse, "It appears we're at the end of our journey, for now. We'll let you rest up for a bit while I go converse with the people I'll be renting from for awhile. Later I'll go get you cleaned and filled up and maybe we'll take a look see round town. " He winked teasingly at the bike as he leaned back and swung a leg over the bike to stand.
Surprisingly his cycle tended to play tricks on the eyes. It didn't seem like a large bike. It wasn't bulky or even a fatboy tire. Serrig didn't really like the extreme low riders, so the shape of the bike almost hid its size in a way. But as soon as Serrig's legs pulled his body into a standing position, you realized not only that the bike was bigger than it appeared, but the man it was holding was a beast as well.
Serrig turned to unlatch a leather bag and a canvas backpack from the small container held to the back hump of the cycle, and then turned his leather boots towards the building.
"I look forward to our date later M'lady" He placed two fingers aside his temple and did a little salute, clicking his tongue against his cheek, his ever so slight Gaelic accent gliding over some of his words. As he walked along the sidewalk towards what he assumed was the front of the building, he noticed a small group of people headed from a lighted area in the nearest alley. Cocking his head to the side slightly, like a dog when curious, he slowed his pace a bit as he noticed the mere size of the one nearest the front. His jaw dropped ever so slightly as he realized it was a woman, but thankfully his mouth was still somewhat covered by the riding mask, or he would have felt a tad more ridiculous as he actually stopped in place for a moment. Though he wasn't sure who they were or where they were headed, they seemed somehow inviting and familiar to him.
Rubbing his eyes to try and wake himself a bit, he shook his head. Whoever they were, they were probably important to some of the reasons he was drawn to this place originally. So he figured he would most likely come across them again. He slid a hand through his hair again as he nodded and decided to try and find which apartment the key he had been mailed, belonged to.

To Claim a Starting World

I've got a fairly big interest in this. I'll start working on a CS! 💚

Prey Tell (Or Keep It To Yourself){Accepting Players!}

Serrig

Name:
Serrig Mythiar

Age:
28

Supernatural Race:
Werewolf and Lycan Mixbreed

Ethnicity/Race:
Norse Gaelic, Russian

Appearance:

Serrig

Serrig stands at a lean but sturdy 6'4", with no lack of toned muscle. His mostly bright blonde hair is kept buzzed along the sides and back and either spiked along the top or in a short pony tail. He has bright blue eyes with a bit of a darker ring along the outside. He'll often keep a short beard or goatee especially if he's Hunting.

Technically Serrig has 3 'forms'. His natural human form, his Lycan wolf form, and his bipedal Werewolf form. His Lycan form is a golden wolf, with blonde fur so light it can almost appear white. This form has bright blue eyes.

Blue Eyed Wolf

Though this form is that of a more normal wolf, it is much larger and bulkier. His legs and paws huge and muscled.

Large Beast

His secondary, or Werewolf form, depends on how he transforms. Usually he is unable to control this transformation as it is due to his werewolf heritage, and will always happen during a full moon. His uncontrolled form, though done against his full will is slightly less potent than his berserk Werewolf form.
His regular Werewolf form is a bipedal, lethe, hulking, 8foot mass of black fur, muscle, fangs and claws. Though his transformation is not through his control a part of his mind is still intact so his eyes, though practically glowing with inhuman power, remain blue.

Blue Eyed Monster

His next form he has come to call Berserk form. This form has happened more times than he'd like to admit but it usually only happens if he is under extremely intense amounts of stress, pain or anger. It's only happened twice when not during a full moon, and only a sparse amount of times during. Though every time in his Werewolf form seems to be a fight with himself for control, His mind and control are seemingly non existent in Berserk form. Oftentimes His fur and bone will tear and grow in even more deformed manner and he grows to practically 9feet with even denser body mass. Seeming to be formed of anger, destruction and mindlessness, His eyes blare a bright white.

Mindless Eyes

His  final form is one he has been working on for years. Back before his mother was killed, she was working with him on meditation and control of his Werewolf form, so he could transform and use it's power and agility whenever he wanted. Also to train his mind to remain more himself. He isn't able to transform this way very often and it takes an incredible amount of time, energy and concentration. And it is actually easier to do so when already in his Lycan wolf form. But it is essentially the same size and shape of his Werewolf form except his fur remains a golden white and his mind is completely his own.

Pale Beast

Serrig has many tattoos but they're all located on his upper body.
Starting with his supernatural tattoo, it is placed on his left shoulder blade.

Lord Fenrir

Next is his right hand.

DarkMoon

On his left forearm.

Wolf's Call

Right bicep.

Fenrir's Card

Left bicep.

Wolf Gaze

And last but not least his right shoulder blade.

Fenrir's Wrath

Personality:
Serrig can tend to be immensely cocky and wild at heart. Though he can usually back up his comments, it has gotten him into trouble as well as fights more than a few times. Never one to turn down a fight or brawl, he lives for a good battle. How else is he supposed to learn and get better? At least that's what he always used too tell his mother. Just as stubborn as she was and as strong willed as his father. Back when the other clan boys would taunt him. Back when his only worries were keeping better control of his Werewolf form and where he could get his next meal. Not that he went hungry because his mom lacked the food. But he was always using tons of energy or so it seemed and that made him constantly starving.
Ever since the loss of his clan and his mother Serrig has changed. Though he still has trouble controlling himself when it comes to a challenge or his nights during the full moon, Serrig has learned to take a longer, closer look into planning and gaining wisdom before starting a battle. Especially after taking on the job of a Hunter.
So he can still often be found wide eyed and covered in blood, a pleasant grin on his face when fighting. But also a man of knowledge and strong will.

Fighter

History:
Serrig was born in his mother's home village on The Isle of Man. Unknown to most travelers, this village had a long history and connection to many ancient gods and their ways. Centuries ago the village clan had done deeds and given sacrifices into many a Celtic deity. And in turn they had received gifts and favors. One of which was the ability to become intertwined with the soul of a wolf. So long as certain ceremonies were upheld, every child born of a member of this clan, would too be able to have this ability.
So it was when Serrig was born. Though his fate would be a tad different. For you see, Serrig's father was of Russian descent. And though That wasn't an issue for his mother or her clan, the fact that he was of pure blooded (not bitten) Werewolf descent was a different subject entirely. Though the Ancient Clan of the Werewolves were considered cousins to those of the Lycan, they were often considered more barbaric and blood thirsty, so viewed as more 'unclean' or ungodly. The Lycan Clans though varied among background and homestead, considered themselves more evolved than their bipedal cousins since they had long ago learned to completely control when they transformed And their minds remained entirely their own.
But love is love Senriel always used to tell her son. And once you find it don't you ever let go.
Serrig's father was a merchant sailor and was often gone on long travels to and from Europe. Being gone as often and as long as he was made many of the village elders happy, as it meant they would rarely have to deal with (or feed) his fathers Werewolf side. He and his mother were allowed to stay in the clan and the village, so long as no problems occurred. Though they remained, Ludvig, Serrig's father often stayed at their boat house near the coast whenever he would return from trips. So as to not upset the clan elders.
Ludvig often brought home gifts from his travels and for Serrig's 18th birthday he gave him a stainless steel necklace that his father said would now be known as their family symbol. Serrig has refused to remove it ever since he left home.

Mythiar WereLycan

Growing up with the mix of his fathers cocky, titanium will and his mothers stubborn, never give up attitude always made life a bit chaotic for Serrig. He honestly tried not to get into All the fights he did, but he could never claim he didn't enjoy the fight while they lasted.
Though the village was modern day they were far from modern when it came to the clan life style. Being a village of all Lycans can be that way, even in the modern day. They had many modern things like internet and phones, but their everyday life and living were less so. They had only a small market for groceries and other house like things. And a corner store for things like liquor and cigarettes. But being that almost every village citizen could hunt and was trained to cook for themselves, hunt for themselves and survive for themselves from a rather young age. The typical modern necessities were rarely a thing.
Even so, Serrig had a good full childhood, despite the fights and most of the elders looking at him somewhat lowly. His mother worked at the corner store most of his childhood and spent most of her free time attempting to help Serrig control his full moon transformations.
Then, during Serrig's 22nd year, disaster struck. Of course all of the younglings were told of the dangers of the real world. That even normal humans could be very dangerous if they found out about the clans lifestyle and abilities. They had been taught and learned about humans who searched for their kind, hunted them. But not even the elders thought they would be so thorough as to discover and hunt down an entire village.
The day started Like most any other. Serrig woke late and stumbled around the house for a bit until he managed to find food to shove in his face. As his mind awoke slowly he remembered tumbling through the woods to his fathers boat house after another argument with his mother. She wanted him to start working an actual job somewhere as she felt his days in the fighting ring were working against their attempts to better control his full moon transformations. She thought the fights were bringing out his more violent tendencies, and that it was making his Werewolf form more chaotic.
  He grumbled heavily and opened one of the bottles of whiskey his dad had on the shelf. What did she really know? He loved fighting and he made Bank at it. So it made him less able to meditate, it wasn't like he had ever hurt anyone when the full moon came around. Not in many many years at least. The village had built an asylum for his full moon nights anyway. In truth it was more like a cage, but he honestly didn't care. He had all the time in the world to learn how to better meditate. He could do that once he was old and tired of getting locked in a silver cage every month. This way he got to fight, drink and have fun. What was so wrong with that?
Rolling onto the couch he pulled his phone off the charger, it was after midday so his mother would prolly have worried about how he was after so long. He stared blankly down at his phone screen for a few moment's. He knew he had left due to their bickering, but that wasn't anything new. Then why did he have 35 missed calls? Pulling the phone to his ear he set down the already half empty liquor bottle and listened to his voicemail.
Screams And howls filled his ear as his mothers voice came through, shaky and weak.
"I... I don't know how, but they found us. Honey they found us. You have to be strong now you hear me? You have to. You have to run. I won't let them find you. I love y.." A startling noise crashed through the phone and then deafening silence. Standing in shock he shook his head furiously to try and clear it. Run? And who are they? Who would hurt his mother? Or any of the clan?
He threw on his jacket and tore out the door. The village was about 10 miles from the boat house so he would me need to move quickly. He looked to the heaven's and sent a small prayer to Odin.
"Please don't let me be too late." He flung himself into his Lycan form and tore through the underbrush of the woods like an arrow searching for a mark. As he got within a mile or so of the village, the scent and sight of fire wafted across his senses. And the smell of charred flesh.
Pulling himself to a halt as he shifted back into human form he stopped at the edge of the woods behind his mothers house. Only the foundation and some walls stood, still smouldering in the sunlight.
His eyes darting around the rubble of his home, he slowly dragged his feet until he stood where the kitchen used to be. He could see down the street where the neighbors houses burned still, bodies and fur strewn across the ashes and leaves. It was almost Halloween and the town had decorations up. They too were burning, like some kind of sick halloween prank. He strode down the pavement into town, barely realizing he hasn't blinked since his eyes caught sight of everything.
Though deep inside he knew what he would find if he went to the corner store, he had to see for himself.
As he entered the whole in the brick wall where the door used to be, his breath caught in his throat. Struggling to choke back tears he fell to his knees next to a large mass of black fur, laying huddled overtop of his mothers still smoldering body. Apparently his father had returned late last night. He was early, he shouldn't have been back for weeks yet. Serrig pulled the lifeless bloody form of his father onto his lap. As he cried mournful howls of agony, he noticed a dagger still stuck into his fathers flesh. Stopping his howling he leaned over to pull it out, just in time for a crossbow bolt to fly by his head.
Rolling into a defensive position he held the dagger in front of him as he looked around for the bolts shooter. Two men stood in the road just down the street, with smiles spread across their faces.
"Well isn't that lucky. We get cleanup duty and there's actually some'in left to take care of. I thought the big boys got all of 'im. Guess they left us a treat." The other man smiled more boldly and pointed the bolt in his hand towards Serrig.
"Here Doggy Doggy, while the bosses are away, we get to play!"

Serrig never got the chance to ask who their bosses were. As soon as the man had begun to speak, Serrig began to black out. He could feel his body transitioning, and it wasn't of his own accord. The last thing he remembers is tearing into the most bloody howl he's ever managed and feeling a surge of power like never before. All he knows is he woke up the next morning covered in blood and ashes on the entire opposite side of the island.

After these events Serrig spent years training, meditating and learning everything possible he could about the ones who attacked his family and his home. He took over his fathers merchant boat and uses it to travel as well as his fathers good name in the business to get things and to places he needs in order to hunt every last Hunter down. He has become a Hunter, and those who would call themselves Hunters are his prey. He won't stop until every last one of them is dust, just like they made his life.
He's come to Gravette on rumours of many different Hunters gathering here.

Strengths:
He is a skilled hunter/tracker when in human form and he knows how to handle himself in hand to hand combat. He's also fairly good at sailing.
In his Lycan form his strength is about 10x stronger as well as his speed and agility. He also has heightened sense of smell, sight and sound, much like a wolf.
In his Werewolf form he's more like 50x as strong as well as having even stronger senses and the ability to use his hands more easily. His jaw and fangs are also more heightened in their abilities to tear and crush.
In his Berserk form his skills and strength are almost 80x his normal abilities and even wounds from fire or silver don't seem to affect him or slow him down much. But he will keep the wound once he returns to normal. Going into Berserk form isn't easy and has never been at his beck and call. So using it for massive overload in strength or skill is not easily done.

Weaknesses:
The usual silver as well as fire. Though he is more so prone to silver when in his Werewolf forms, his Lycan form is weak to it as well.
He has a weakness to being offered a challenge, especially if its for a fight.
There was an Ancient chant or ceremony if you will, that his mother used to perform when he was in his Werewolf form. A ceremony with Ancient Magics and words of the gods, it made his fur glow with Runes and was able to calm and sedate him. She used it most often when he was confined to the clans holding cage for him. He never learned it for himself but if there were others who knew it or could preform it, unless in his Berserk form, it could be used to subdue or even kill him.

Ancient Rites

Stance:
Active. Though he mostly hunts Wolf hunters, he's never against killing other hunters when the chance arises.

Special Power/Skill:
He has the unique ability, even among other similar supernaturals, to transform into a Lycan(large wolf), and different Werewolf(bipedal wolf) forms. That along with his Berserk form and skills as a hunter/tracker/sailor, make for a very hard to kill beast.

Other:
His clan, mother and father were all followers of the old gods. Both Gaelic and Nordic. And although he doesn't commune regularly, he will often say prayers and keep small traditions to the Old Gods.
Though he rarely speaks it at all, let alone regularly, he does know how to speak Gaelic and some small amounts of Russian.

Serrigs Pinterest Board: pin.it/4V6ijnV

Prey Tell (Or Keep It To Yourself){Accepting Players!}

Serrig

Name:
Serrig Mythiar

Age:
28

Supernatural Race:
Werewolf and Lycan Mixbreed

Ethnicity/Race:
Norse Gaelic, Russian

Appearance:

Serrig

Serrig stands at a lean but sturdy 6'4", with no lack of toned muscle. His mostly bright blonde hair is kept buzzed along the sides and back and either spiked along the top or in a short pony tail. He has bright blue eyes with a bit of a darker ring along the outside. He'll often keep a short beard or goatee especially if he's Hunting.

Technically Serrig has 3 'forms'. His natural human form, his Lycan wolf form, and his bipedal Werewolf form. His Lycan form is a golden wolf, with blonde fur so light it can almost appear white. This form has bright blue eyes.

Blue Eyed Wolf

Though this form is that of a more normal wolf, it is much larger and bulkier. His legs and paws huge and muscled.

Large Beast

His secondary, or Werewolf form, depends on how he transforms. Usually he is unable to control this transformation as it is due to his werewolf heritage, and will always happen during a full moon. His uncontrolled form, though done against his full will is slightly less potent than his berserk Werewolf form.
His regular Werewolf form is a bipedal, lethe, hulking, 8foot mass of black fur, muscle, fangs and claws. Though his transformation is not through his control a part of his mind is still intact so his eyes, though practically glowing with inhuman power, remain blue.

Blue Eyed Monster

His next form he has come to call Berserk form. This form has happened more times than he'd like to admit but it usually only happens if he is under extremely intense amounts of stress, pain or anger. It's only happened twice when not during a full moon, and only a sparse amount of times during. Though every time in his Werewolf form seems to be a fight with himself for control, His mind and control are seemingly non existent in Berserk form. Oftentimes His fur and bone will tear and grow in even more deformed manner and he grows to practically 9feet with even denser body mass. Seeming to be formed of anger, destruction and mindlessness, His eyes blare a bright white.

Mindless Eyes

His final form is one he has been working on for years. Back before his mother was killed, she was working with him on meditation and control of his Werewolf form, so he could transform and use it's power and agility whenever he wanted. Also to train his mind to remain more himself. He isn't able to transform this way very often and it takes an incredible amount of time, energy and concentration. And it is actually easier to do so when already in his Lycan wolf form. But it is essentially the same size and shape of his Werewolf form except his fur remains a golden white and his mind is completely his own.

Pale Beast

Serrig has many tattoos but they're all located on his upper body.
Starting with his supernatural tattoo, it is placed on his left shoulder blade.

Lord Fenrir

Next is his right hand.

DarkMoon

On his left forearm.

Wolf's Call

Right bicep.

Fenrir's Card

Left bicep.

Wolf Gaze

And last but not least his right shoulder blade.

Fenrir's Wrath

Personality:
Serrig can tend to be immensely cocky and wild at heart. Though he can usually back up his comments, it has gotten him into trouble as well as fights more than a few times. Never one to turn down a fight or brawl, he lives for a good battle. How else is he supposed to learn and get better? At least that's what he always used too tell his mother. Just as stubborn as she was and as strong willed as his father. Back when the other clan boys would taunt him. Back when his only worries were keeping better control of his Werewolf form and where he could get his next meal. Not that he went hungry because his mom lacked the food. But he was always using tons of energy or so it seemed and that made him constantly starving.
Ever since the loss of his clan and his mother Serrig has changed. Though he still has trouble controlling himself when it comes to a challenge or his nights during the full moon, Serrig has learned to take a longer, closer look into planning and gaining wisdom before starting a battle. Especially after taking on the job of a Hunter.
So he can still often be found wide eyed and covered in blood, a pleasant grin on his face when fighting. But also a man of knowledge and strong will.

Fighter

History:
Serrig was born in his mother's home village on The Isle of Man. Unknown to most travelers, this village had a long history and connection to many ancient gods and their ways. Centuries ago the village clan had done deeds and given sacrifices into many a Celtic deity. And in turn they had received gifts and favors. One of which was the ability to become intertwined with the soul of a wolf. So long as certain ceremonies were upheld, every child born of a member of this clan, would too be able to have this ability.
So it was when Serrig was born. Though his fate would be a tad different. For you see, Serrig's father was of Russian descent. And though That wasn't an issue for his mother or her clan, the fact that he was of pure blooded (not bitten) Werewolf descent was a different subject entirely. Though the Ancient Clan of the Werewolves were considered cousins to those of the Lycan, they were often considered more barbaric and blood thirsty, so viewed as more 'unclean' or ungodly. The Lycan Clans though varied among background and homestead, considered themselves more evolved than their bipedal cousins since they had long ago learned to completely control when they transformed And their minds remained entirely their own.
But love is love Senriel always used to tell her son. And once you find it don't you ever let go.
Serrig's father was a merchant sailor and was often gone on long travels to and from Europe. Being gone as often and as long as he was made many of the village elders happy, as it meant they would rarely have to deal with (or feed) his fathers Werewolf side. He and his mother were allowed to stay in the clan and the village, so long as no problems occurred. Though they remained, Ludvig, Serrig's father often stayed at their boat house near the coast whenever he would return from trips. So as to not upset the clan elders.
Ludvig often brought home gifts from his travels and for Serrig's 18th birthday he gave him a stainless steel necklace that his father said would now be known as their family symbol. Serrig has refused to remove it ever since he left home.

Mythiar WereLycan

Growing up with the mix of his fathers cocky, titanium will and his mothers stubborn, never give up attitude always made life a bit chaotic for Serrig. He honestly tried not to get into All the fights he did, but he could never claim he didn't enjoy the fight while they lasted.
Though the village was modern day they were far from modern when it came to the clan life style. Being a village of all Lycans can be that way, even in the modern day. They had many modern things like internet and phones, but their everyday life and living were less so. They had only a small market for groceries and other house like things. And a corner store for things like liquor and cigarettes. But being that almost every village citizen could hunt and was trained to cook for themselves, hunt for themselves and survive for themselves from a rather young age. The typical modern necessities were rarely a thing.
Even so, Serrig had a good full childhood, despite the fights and most of the elders looking at him somewhat lowly. His mother worked at the corner store most of his childhood and spent most of her free time attempting to help Serrig control his full moon transformations.
Then, during Serrig's 22nd year, disaster struck. Of course all of the younglings were told of the dangers of the real world. That even normal humans could be very dangerous if they found out about the clans lifestyle and abilities. They had been taught and learned about humans who searched for their kind, hunted them. But not even the elders thought they would be so thorough as to discover and hunt down an entire village.
The day started Like most any other. Serrig woke late and stumbled around the house for a bit until he managed to find food to shove in his face. As his mind awoke slowly he remembered tumbling through the woods to his fathers boat house after another argument with his mother. She wanted him to start working an actual job somewhere as she felt his days in the fighting ring were working against their attempts to better control his full moon transformations. She thought the fights were bringing out his more violent tendencies, and that it was making his Werewolf form more chaotic.
He grumbled heavily and opened one of the bottles of whiskey his dad had on the shelf. What did she really know? He loved fighting and he made Bank at it. So it made him less able to meditate, it wasn't like he had ever hurt anyone when the full moon came around. Not in many many years at least. The village had built an asylum for his full moon nights anyway. In truth it was more like a cage, but he honestly didn't care. He had all the time in the world to learn how to better meditate. He could do that once he was old and tired of getting locked in a silver cage every month. This way he got to fight, drink and have fun. What was so wrong with that?
Rolling onto the couch he pulled his phone off the charger, it was after midday so his mother would prolly have worried about how he was after so long. He stared blankly down at his phone screen for a few moment's. He knew he had left due to their bickering, but that wasn't anything new. Then why did he have 35 missed calls? Pulling the phone to his ear he set down the already half empty liquor bottle and listened to his voicemail.
Screams And howls filled his ear as his mothers voice came through, shaky and weak.
"I... I don't know how, but they found us. Honey they found us. You have to be strong now you hear me? You have to. You have to run. I won't let them find you. I love y.." A startling noise crashed through the phone and then deafening silence. Standing in shock he shook his head furiously to try and clear it. Run? And who are they? Who would hurt his mother? Or any of the clan?
He threw on his jacket and tore out the door. The village was about 10 miles from the boat house so he would me need to move quickly. He looked to the heaven's and sent a small prayer to Odin.
"Please don't let me be too late." He flung himself into his Lycan form and tore through the underbrush of the woods like an arrow searching for a mark. As he got within a mile or so of the village, the scent and sight of fire wafted across his senses. And the smell of charred flesh.
Pulling himself to a halt as he shifted back into human form he stopped at the edge of the woods behind his mothers house. Only the foundation and some walls stood, still smouldering in the sunlight.
His eyes darting around the rubble of his home, he slowly dragged his feet until he stood where the kitchen used to be. He could see down the street where the neighbors houses burned still, bodies and fur strewn across the ashes and leaves. It was almost Halloween and the town had decorations up. They too were burning, like some kind of sick halloween prank. He strode down the pavement into town, barely realizing he hasn't blinked since his eyes caught sight of everything.
Though deep inside he knew what he would find if he went to the corner store, he had to see for himself.
As he entered the whole in the brick wall where the door used to be, his breath caught in his throat. Struggling to choke back tears he fell to his knees next to a large mass of black fur, laying huddled overtop of his mothers still smoldering body. Apparently his father had returned late last night. He was early, he shouldn't have been back for weeks yet. Serrig pulled the lifeless bloody form of his father onto his lap. As he cried mournful howls of agony, he noticed a dagger still stuck into his fathers flesh. Stopping his howling he leaned over to pull it out, just in time for a crossbow bolt to fly by his head.
Rolling into a defensive position he held the dagger in front of him as he looked around for the bolts shooter. Two men stood in the road just down the street, with smiles spread across their faces.
"Well isn't that lucky. We get cleanup duty and there's actually some'in left to take care of. I thought the big boys got all of 'im. Guess they left us a treat." The other man smiled more boldly and pointed the bolt in his hand towards Serrig.
"Here Doggy Doggy, while the bosses are away, we get to play!"

Serrig never got the chance to ask who their bosses were. As soon as the man had begun to speak, Serrig began to black out. He could feel his body transitioning, and it wasn't of his own accord. The last thing he remembers is tearing into the most bloody howl he's ever managed and feeling a surge of power like never before. All he knows is he woke up the next morning covered in blood and ashes on the entire opposite side of the island.

After these events Serrig spent years training, meditating and learning everything possible he could about the ones who attacked his family and his home. He took over his fathers merchant boat and uses it to travel as well as his fathers good name in the business to get things and to places he needs in order to hunt every last Hunter down. He has become a Hunter, and those who would call themselves Hunters are his prey. He won't stop until every last one of them is dust, just like they made his life.
He's come to Gravette on rumours of many different Hunters gathering here.

Strengths:
He is a skilled hunter/tracker when in human form and he knows how to handle himself in hand to hand combat. He's also fairly good at sailing.
In his Lycan form his strength is about 10x stronger as well as his speed and agility. He also has heightened sense of smell, sight and sound, much like a wolf.
In his Werewolf form he's more like 50x as strong as well as having even stronger senses and the ability to use his hands more easily. His jaw and fangs are also more heightened in their abilities to tear and crush.
In his Berserk form his skills and strength are almost 80x his normal abilities and even wounds from fire or silver don't seem to affect him or slow him down much. But he will keep the wound once he returns to normal. Going into Berserk form isn't easy and has never been at his beck and call. So using it for massive overload in strength or skill is not easily done.

Weaknesses:
The usual silver as well as fire. Though he is more so prone to silver when in his Werewolf forms, his Lycan form is weak to it as well.
He has a weakness to being offered a challenge, especially if its for a fight.
There was an Ancient chant or ceremony if you will, that his mother used to perform when he was in his Werewolf form. A ceremony with Ancient Magics and words of the gods, it made his fur glow with Runes and was able to calm and sedate him. She used it most often when he was confined to the clans holding cage for him. He never learned it for himself but if there were others who knew it or could preform it, unless in his Berserk form, it could be used to subdue or even kill him.

Ancient Rites

Stance:
Active. Though he mostly hunts Wolf hunters, he's never against killing other hunters when the chance arises.

Special Power/Skill:
He has the unique ability, even among other similar supernaturals, to transform into a Lycan(large wolf), and different Werewolf(bipedal wolf) forms. That along with his Berserk form and skills as a hunter/tracker/sailor, make for a very hard to kill beast.

Other:
His clan, mother and father were all followers of the old gods. Both Gaelic and Nordic. And although he doesn't commune regularly, he will often say prayers and keep small traditions to the Old Gods.
Though he rarely speaks it at all, let alone regularly, he does know how to speak Gaelic and some small amounts of Russian.

Serrigs Pinterest Board: pin.it/4V6ijnV

Prey Tell (Or Keep It To Yourself){Accepting Players!}

~ Neirie ~

Although she had long ago forgotten what it felt like to breathe, she sucked in a sharp, right 'breath'. As the shocking feeling began to subside, she lingered her eyes over the young man and his lovely hulking 'friend'. As he faltered slightly and met her gaze she realized whatever kind of trap she had stumbled across was most likely of his creation. Thoughts flew around her mind as she wondered what in the world he could actually be, what the woman who guarded him so precariously was, whether them now knowing that she was an elder vampire was a terrible thing or not, and whether she should scatter like the young vampire girl in front of her was suggesting. All the while trying to keep the several other scents in the building that now assaulted her senses from overloading her brain.
And then 'Josip' began to speak.
Like the fingers of an ice elemental sliding down the marrow in one's bones, his words practically tore at her skin they were laced with such anger and disgust. Though he had no supernatural abilities so to speak, he appeared to have spent years honing his words and speech like a knife. Meant for those of her kind. If not for the cold set in her bones ages ago she may have actually shivered where she stood.
Instead she held back a snarl by digging one fang into her bottom lip and without showing any outward movement, slid her batpack around to the front placing one hand on her bow handle. Her other hand, still out and in its sleeve, continued to feel the remnants of feeling like she had been practically electrocuted. She curled her finger open and closed, trying to shake away the feeling as nonchalant as possible.
As Josip came towards the end of his judgement and accusations of the girl before them, it became more and more clear that he was in fact a man of the sort others called Hunters. Though he was getting towards the older side of age by humans standards, this man was far from weak, or naive. He had most likely been in this line of work for most of his life and likely had the scars to match the experiences. She wouldn't want to have him waiting for her in a dark alley somewhere unexpectedly... And She's an Elder Vampire. Not nearly as old or as powerful as those they call the First Bloods. Or even the few generations after known as the Ancients, or Ancient One's. Which she's always believed her master was fairly close to being. She would still feel uncomfortably meeting up with this human in any situation she want previously aware of.
Her grip tightened around her bow as well as her other hand into a clenched fist. Though her attention, senses and guard were aimed towards Josip, her eyes stayed glued to the young man Neirie had heard his faithful bodyguard call "DarnDarn". Watching to see if her slightly sudden appearance, which had visually affected him, was an issue for him. She had come here on rumors of assistance. Talks of a Being that could make items to help her hunt down her Master. His true location. Not of that had practically gone stale.
Someone who could provide aid or tools to help her against the monster. Could this boy truly be the one she'd traveled so far for? Though his scent was intense and intriguing, she could have sworn there was an ever so slight hint of human among it. Yet different. The fact that she couldn't pin point it was driving her almost mad.
While also on her mind was that Josip had a fresh yet stale scent same as the elegant and vicious aroma coming from the 'Man' called Simon. She tilted her head ever so slightly as Simon began to seemingly defend Josip. Were they actually together? Was this fairly blatantly human man in cahoots with a supernatural? Is this how he was actually able to find the bar? How if he was actually a hunter could he let a supernatural live? And why on the earth would any supernatural willingly help him?
Neirie actually blinked. This Josip had been fairly reserved when scaling the scene of the window break. Though he seemed to contemplate "DarnDarn" and his guardians visages, and seemed to be, if strangely, friendly with Simon. He didn't appear to become hostile until after noticing the young vampires sleeves and he became even more agitated once Neirie began defending her. As her glued eyes turned in almost slow motion to the man behind her, she peaked an ever so quick glimmer.
He was a Vampire Hunter. And he most likely was there specifically for her. Perhaps not her alone. But any who might call her kind kin. Working with Simon or not, this man was dangerous and probably more than prepared for a fight. A fight meant to seriously injure or kill HER.
Just as she was about to yank her bow into full size she felt that same electric feeling from before except it wasn't aimed towards herself, and it was a lot stronger. She snapped her eyes back to DarnDarn as he seemed to almost glow with a crackling green energy. As he began to speak Neirie could hear the power of several voices flow from his words. He senses were barraged once again with a multitude of his strange scent and she winced slightly at the mere force of it.
Whether out of training or habit she instantly stepped in front of the girl with her feet spread apart and her bow drawn between her legs. She faced Josip and locked her full attention and guard on his scent and visage. If she didn't have to fight she wouldn't. But she was ready if need be and she at least knee better than to get close to that man.

Prey Tell (Or Keep It To Yourself){Accepting Players!}

~ Neirie ~

As her gaze continued to burn into the back of the older gentlemen's skull, he began to turn. Freezing even more in place, she felt for a moment as if her shadows weren't going to protect her. The man's almost emotionless gaze stopped directly where she was hiding and seemed to be pondering the shadows she masked herself with. If her heart hadn't stopped ages ago it may have very well faltered now. She bit her fang a little farther into her lip and sucked in a small breath. Not that she needed to breathe, but she always felt the need to exhale or breathe sharp breaths in certain situations. Perhaps just out of very old habit.
The man's gaze began to turn to the much younger vampire and though Neirie let out a tiny sigh of relief her attention was drawn to the girls sleeves. Considering how much supernatural energy was flowing around this spot, Neirie felt as if a small surge wouldn't hurt. She'd keep her unique scent hidden of course but the girl for some reason already seemed to know she was there. So she might as well show herself to the others, quietly.
Being a small distance away from the bar still, she made sure the older man's attention was in fact still on the others and carefully twisted the shadows away from herself and slipped back into normal vision. She very quietly took a few steps toward the building and gazed inside. Her eyes caught with the girls and she blinked her bright pink eyes as she more clearly heard her speak and the man's response.
Being only a few feet away from the older man, she turned her gaze to the younger blonde as he spoke to the gentleman and put out his own cigarette. He seemed to be attempting to draw the mans attention away from the bloody girl and she could almost taste the sweetness of his words like honey on a dumpling. Whatever 'magic' he was using he was definitely layering on as much swagger as he could.
This was only more confirmation that this older gentleman was something of a unique human. Whether dangerous to her specifically or not she wasn't sure yet. But definitely dangerous. She licked her bottom lip quickly and after a quick glance towards the two with intriguingly unique scents she set her eyes back on the girls clothes. Pulling her hands up to her chest she placed her fingertips together and a small girlish smile crossed her lips.
"Well aren't you just a sweet thing! Poor lil sweet. Did you hurt yourself? Should I take you to the ladies room and help you tidy up?" Her voice though sweet and airy wasn't overly sharp or high pitched. It was soothing to the ears like a bubbly river that flowed quickly but gently. Laced with innocence it had an under layer of knowledge that only few would recognize as centuries of experience. She tilted her head and sent the feeling of urgency and flight through her gaze into the girls eyes as strongly but cautious as possible. The poor girl might not realize it but this gentleman was nothing to fiddle with. And if her boldness was more than a shield or facade she might try to tassle with the gentleman and that could mean ill for everyone in the vacinity. Neirie had heard the old man apeak shortly before she snuck upon the window and his words were all laced heavily with deciet and hidden meanings.
Beginning to have a long forgetton feeling of uncomfortable crawl along her skin she very carefully crossed over the threshold of the broken window and stepped into the buildimg. Trying to get herself closer to the girl without giving off a feeling of danger. If she scared her off at least she would be out of immediate danger. As soon as her second foot touched to the buildings floor an electric shock like feeling surged through her body. She cringed almost visably and ground her teeth. Well. Someone knew she was here. And they most likely now knew Exactly what she was. Perhaps not her age but they definitly knew she was old. And a vampire.
How could she be so stupid?! This bar was obviously not normal and she should have realized whoever ran would have SoMe safeguards in place. At least to determine what type of patrons they were dealing with. She continued to try and push the feeling of urgency towards the girl but she was now quite shaken herself and periodically made short dagger like glances at the other patrons inside and outside the bar. Who could've set such strong traps? Are they still here? Are they within sensing distance? And were the sensors there to protect to bar? Or were they to find supernaturals and keep them from remaining hidden? Had she walked right into something terrible? Or was the creator of this magic sensor the person she needed to help her find her master?
As she waited to see if any of the others around her responded to her sudden appearence on the supernatural sensor scale, she continued to keep an eye on the 'Josip' man and continued to keep a watchful eye on the girl to see her next move.

Prey Tell (Or Keep It To Yourself){Accepting Players!}

~ Neirie ~

As she lightly hop-skipped down the sidewalk, she began to slow to a practical slide in short skids. Pulling one hand up to cover her lower face, she came to a halt across and slightly down the road from an establishment with a large broken window and several scents of curiosity.
She could see a rather large woman like figure. And by woman 'like' she could smell that this was NOT human. She'd never smelled anything like it. Being that this was a completely different scent than the earlier 'Unknown blood' smell that drew her here. That would mark two completely foreign smells to her in a matter of minutes, after centuries between this 'new and so unfamiliar feeling' and she had to admit, she did NoT enjoy it.
She instantly made sure to use her extra energy for every skill possible to mask her 'true' supernatural scent. She knew at least a few of the beings before her could most likely already sense her supernatural presence. But at least she could stop most of the information there.
As she almost seemed to fade into shadow itself to any untrained eye. She stayed exactly where she was and watched the acts happening in front of her. She couldn't even begin to decide WhAt race the 'woman' was. And realizing the young man standing next to her was the other foreign scent, especially after she noticed the blood. So. Those were at least two of the beings she had sensed coming from this direction. She could tell that the rather blonde man standing a small distance from them was of another strange scent. Though she knew she had smelled it quite a few times before. She didn't know much as to the specifics. She knew that some smelled different... More feral perhaps? Than the others. But they all had a very, elegant? Smell to them.
Next, she turned her eyes and scents only, towards the seemingly young woman sitting on one of the establishments chairs. She could smell the fresh human blood all over the girl, and it wasn't her own. She seemed fairly young. Perhaps not truly in human years. She could perhaps be a century or close to two. But she didn't even seem to be trying to really mask anything. Not from supernatural senses anyway. So she must not have had a Master. Neirie mentally shrugged though an ever so slight grin spread across her face. She liked the girls beanie. Biting her lip with one fang she turned her attention again, this time to the seemingly older human business man.
Ever so slightly she cocked her head while keeping her ever so slightly pink eyes burning into the man's skin. You see, Neirie had been doing extremely well, she thought. She'd only drink gentle animal's blood peacefully after treating it gently, giving it a bath and a good meal. Then she would 'tranquilize' it as she sang ancient immortals seduction songs to lull it into a peaceful death. She had learned to survive this way on animals for centuries after she had left her Master, only feeding on humans when she would travel to certain cities, once she had trained and learned as much as she thought she could before hunting down her Master, like the Monster he was. She would only feed from or kill humans if they were being monsters themselves and doing so would save another. She had killed a few supernatural' s before. Some she knew what they were, others she had no idea, but some tasted the same as others she hadn't known of what races or origins they hailed from.
But she hadn't realized exactly how long it had been since she was able to preform the ceremony for a gentle animal feeding. Whenever she had to or chose to feed from sentient beings like humans. It was usually a rather violent individual, and therefore made her emotions and hunger a little more volatile in the process. Had it been 10 days or 10 years? She couldn't remember.
She made an ever so light shiver as she tried not to focus on that and focus on the strangely scented man perusing the rubble.
He was human, she was fairly sure anyway. But his aura was something strange and twisted. He had different scents among his own, some magical, some long distant. Human. Perhaps. But normal? He was far, far from it.

Prey Tell (Or Keep It To Yourself){Accepting Players!}

~ Neirie ~

A somewhat small figure stood silently in a heavily shaded alley. Almost statuesque, one would have thought it was made of marble, had the icy blue eyes not been darting back and forth every few minutes. The figure's other facial features were mostly hidden as a large mage like hood draped over most of the dark hair and forehead. Large sleeves hung up to the figures hands, which were perched as if folded across it's nose. The large hooded jacket came down to the figures thighs and small legs covered in a black shiny material protruded into thick black rubber heeled boots.
Barely any wind or movement came from the alley as the small figure seemed to be checking that it was safe to cross the road.
An ever so small poof of air escaped the figure's lips followed by a short huff.
The figures shoulders sagged in defeat and it plopped to the ground like an overly used duffle bag. The hood still hung over the figures forehead but the sleeves had fallen back to show lace arm gloves covering up and around the middle fingers.
A somewhat more bored sigh came about as the eyes began to slowly dart back and forth again.
"Well Neirie, we've been here for hours and about the only 'GoOd' info we've been able to decipher, is that there are definitely other powerful beings here. That there's some unusual sized groups in about three to four areas? MAYBE? But we're pretty sure of a couple spots. So what do we do? Should we go start at one. Scope a bit. Then go to the other? Or just sit here till we decide which one MiGhT be more important?". She bit lightly into her lower lip with one fang, biting the end of a long, sharpened nail between her other teeth. Shelet loose a more child like whine than a sigh.
"UgH! I hate waiting on myself, so. It'd be faster to pick one and determine if its important or not as quickly as possible!" She nodded her head dramatically whilst literally hopping to her feet. Placing one hand on her hip, she put her chin in the place between her other forefinger and thumb and made a squished thinking face.
"I guess since I've been to neither before. I'll start with the farthest away. Then, I can just teleport back here, and be closer to the other!" She giggled softly but cheerily and a small childish grin spread across her marble face.

After making sure her hood was in place and letting her arms dangle beside her to keep the sleeves well over her hands, she wandered quietly (dare say silently) out of the alley and along the sidewalk. She tried to make sure and note any other beings with strange auras near her. Just to try and keep track, a little.
As she slowly roamed the streets she very abruptly had the scent of blood slam against her senses. She stopped in her tracks as she snarled slightly before a warming feeling fell over her. Yes. Warming. She had smelled other blood ever so slightly before this other, scent. It'd been human. She was sure of it. Layered with alcohol as it may be it was definitely human.
But that other scent. It was almost maddening. Still stuck in her current position, she searched her mind rapidly. She didn't think she had ever sensed or smelled anything like it before. Perhaps... Maybe she had. So long ago even her aged mind couldn't remember.
All she knew is that it seemed powerful. Or at the absolute least interesting.
A small cheshire grin crawled over her lips and she nodded dramatically again.
"Yup. We were right! Definitely the right direction. Might not be the monster we're after. But I fathom this delectable scent either has some sort of info, or might know something that does. Worth a look see at least!"
A weird movement came from inside the hooded cloak. It looked as if her body had been made into wiggling noodles to a would be bystander. Though underneath a fairly normal happenstance of Neirie pulling her arms into the jacket itself, wiggling her 'Batpack' around to her front side and pulling out her cigarette pack and lighter. Arms still 'inside' her jacket she wiggled her hands and wrists through the neck hole area, lit the cigarette and slid her hands back inside. The noodle dance began again and shortly after her arms slid back into their rightful sleeves. Still a small grin on her lips she began to almost hop down the sidewalk.

Skyfall: A Coming of Age Story

I'm interested and will try to have a CS up by late Thurs night. If all the spots aren't taken by then! :3