|
ST:
Fiadh is out tagging in Parkland, in a half-abandoned neighborhood comprised almost exclusively of dilapidated structures. It's late at night, and shadowy bodies move around in the distance, vagrants or even a few locals that actually live and/or squat in this area. There's an ideal, barren wall, just waiting for a masterpiece, inside a duplex with part of the ceiling caved in, the locks on the door long since broken off.
Fiadh MacKenna:
Fiadh's there, dressed all in black, a black sweater under the black leather jacket, a long black skirt over a pair of jeans...gotta keep warm, after all. She has a warm black beanie up over her head, and a duffel bag full of spraypaint over her shoulder. She takes a moment, staring at the wall, and then sets the bag down. She pulls out a can, black first, for the outline, then, bouncing on the balls of her feet she steps up to the wall, shaking the can vigorously before she starts to paint.
ST:
Someone, or something nearby has caught Fiadh's scent, the Wolf-Blooded scent, seen her now too-bright eyes flashing in the dark. Ears perk at the sound of the spraypaint, and a shadowy figure creeps through the yard of the house to enter in through one of the back doors, the subtle creaking sounds of old hinges indicating an intruder's presence.
Fiadh MacKenna:
Fi isn't paying close attention, once she's started her artwork she gets so intensely involved. But after a few swipes of paint on the wall she hears that faint sound of creaking. She steps back from the wall, spray paint in one hand, and looks around, frowning faintly as she does a mental inventory of the area. "'Ello?"
ST:
The aerosol spray invades the stranger's nostrils and he -- for it is, indeed, a he -- sneers and steps forward into the threshold of a door that leads to the room that Fiadh is in, opposite the wall she has been tagging. "This isn't a safe part of town, little Wolf-Blood," he rasps, leaning against the doorframe lazily.
Fiadh MacKenna:
Fi backs up and brandishes the can of spray paint. "Look, I'm not 'ere to make a bother...if I'm intruding on your area I can just leave..." Her eyes dart around briefly, looking for other entrances, or a window, some way to escape the room. "Just a li'l mistake, aye?" The Irish brogue is out full force. "I'm sure I could figure out some way to make amends for any insult I've accidentally caused...right?" She tries her best friendly smile, but there's definitely apprehension in her eyes. "No reason we can't be friends, right?"
ST:
His dark eyes flash and he takes a menacing step forward, the scent of her fear thick and heady. In an instant, the stranger has shifted into a recognizable Dalu form, taller, bigger, thicker, arms hairier, and claws extending from his fingertips. "You're just a little one," he growls in his rasping voice. "But even little ones can grow to be big ones."
He's stepping closer. His hair is dark and shaggy, just shy of shoulder length, and he's wearing a dark green coat that falls down nearly to his knees, just large enough to accommodate the straining shift of his form. "Sorry, kid," he grunts, and then he lashes forward, clawing at her throat and jaw.
Fiadh MacKenna:
Fi puts one hand up to her throat, trying to stem the flow of blood, her other reaching into her pocket, trying to hit the speed dial button for Killy. She then brings her other hand up to her throat, looking up at the stranger with one single word escaping her lips, barely a whisper. "Why?"
ST:
He kneels down and snatches at her phone, breaks it in his grasp, and tosses it away, tilting his head to the side as she starts to bleed out. "This is destiny. You'll all perish," he rasps at her, and she can smell his breath. His eyebrows are thick, coming together with stray hairs into a unibrow in his Dalu form, and his mass is overwhelming. "Every single one of you. Now die," he commands in a dark voice, and he slashes at her again.
Fiadh MacKenna:
That final blow is fatal, her hand falling away from her neck as her head goes limp, the shine in her eyes fading as the life drains from her, staring blindly out as her blood drains out of her body. One last breath escapes her, a long, slow exhale, her lungs emptying of any air she had left.
|