Fierce [Dahlia&Lars]

[Giselle Audley]

Giselle went flying into a bench. She hit the edge of the seat with her side, cracking a rib. She made no sign of discomfort, just got back on her feet and faced her furry opponent. She cocked her head and grinned, ”Is that all you got?” Vampire and werewolf collided again. Giselle caught movement from the corner of her eye. She stole a fast glance only to discover it to be Lars. He was watching from the sidelines, allowing Giselle to have a little fun and relieve some pent up frustration at the expense of the wolf.

Ten minutes prior to this, Giselle and Lars were out on a calm, nightly stroll. The couple were exchanging casual conversation when a werewolf passed them, clumsily tripped over himself, and fell into Giselle. The vampire was not pleased her sweater was torn. She vowed vengeance on the article of clothing, and was itching for a fight anyway. After a dramatic, “Your pelt is mine,” Lars smartly backed away to allow the two to duke it out. Giselle took into consideration how boring and typical this was for him. ”I’ll - ARGH - be right - GEROFF - there, hon!”

Good fights were hard to come by. Giselle didn’t appreciate the cheap shots the wolf was taking. She got on top of the wolf’s chest and proceeded to puncture the his ear with her fangs. My God, all she wanted to do was spend a nice night out with Lars! Leave it to werewolves to muck up her plans!

It wasn’t even like Giselle was fighting for anything now, her shirt was beyond repair. Once claw in the face and a paw in the stomach later, and Giselle was under the wolf. He was growling over her. Giselle blew a lock of red hair off her face and cringed away from the dog’s breath, ”EUAG!” she turned her head to Lars and smiled sheepishly, ”Help?”

[Ellie]

i'mhereandi'mhurtingtobeginagain.

right here, standing on a rooftop screaming.

Lars had indeed been on the sidelines, enjoying a very good smoke. He was casually leaning against a adolescent tree with one hand holding the said cigarette and the other tucked lazily in his pocket. He licked his lips while he watched the spectacle, like some Gladiator War or something. Needless to say he was far from worried, it was Giselle after all.

But once things took a slightest turn for the worse he had to grin and roll his eyes while her delicate but strong hands held back the drooly jaws, "Yeah, honey."

He removed himself from his leisurely, one foot against the tree position and stood upright, taking his jolly old time. He took one more long drag of the halfway spent Marlboro and dropped it to the ground, crushing it under the sole of his shoe.

In another moment he walked forward, again, in no apparent rush before sending a hard foot into the animal's torso , casting the obviously unobservant werewolf off his lover. In another quick flash Lars's hand was in his worn leather jacket, pulling out the same .45 pistol he had used in the struggle against the late Jack Audley. Lars wasn't particularly fond of hand to hand combat, it was simply that fact that made him not excel in it. A change of mind and his skill could change, too, if he gave the effort to learn. But who cared for that when you had a gun at you at all times? The Jack ordeal left a small paranoia in his mind, but it didn't come without reason. Plus it was a good thing he kept it with him, he needed it more than any 'normal' individual would.

With two loud shots and the instant smell of a firearm the wolf was yelping and soon limping away as fast as it's injured self could carry it. Lars was feeling nice, and had only simply sent one shot into the animal's hind end and another in it's back leg.

"Bastard won't be able to sit for a long ass time, or walk, so it's pretty much screwed," he said with his eyebrows turning up, a shrug in his shoulder. The wolf looked back once before turning down the corner, "Or at least we can hope so," he grinned, giving Giselle a hand up, "Damn full moons."

001. COUNT 385 002. MUSIC alk3
003. NOTES neahahaha, i love have BA lars now. 004. ATTIRE x

[depoisoning]

I M G O I N G T O C L E A N THESE VEINS A G A I N

SO CLOSE TO DYING THAT I FINALLY

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Dahlia pulled a lighter out of her pocket and lit the cigarette waiting between her lips. She inhaled deeply, and as she exhaled, white smoke rose above her eyes, obscuring the city around her. It was dark and she walked alone. But Dahlia wasn’t worried—she could take care of herself better than the strongest man. A fact that she was actually quite proud of. . .

The night was late, the moon high in the sky. It was full, its light casting a slivery glow on the world, making Dahlia’s skin seem almost translucent. The warm breeze felt good against her cool skin. Her boots made a pleasant shuffling sound as they made contact with the concrete, but that was the only sound to be heard. The quiet little Parisian street she walked down was deserted, not a soul around to add some of their own noise. But Dahlia enjoyed the silence. It enabled her to completely soak in the romantic feeling the beautiful city of Paris offered. Romance and beauty. Beauty and romance. What a wonderful city.

She closed her eyes for a second, taking in the short moment. It was the first time in a long time she truly felt at ease. Peaceful and relaxed. Finally rid of heavy feelings and sad memories. What a wonderful city.

But Dahlia’s pleasant mood was quickly interrupted buy two staccato gunshots in the night. She jumped a little, but realized that they were farther off—echoing more from the east. Rapidly abandoning her serene mood, she let her curious side get the best of her, and took a sharp turn and wandered in the general direction she had heard the loud noise.

After a few seconds of walking, she saw two figures in the street. A large, hairy animal limped off in the opposite direction of her, clearly hurt. Dahlia was a little confused. Okay. Very confused. But she stood her ground and remained unnoticed, only about fifty yards from the two dark figures.

The large animal turned the corner, and then Dahlia heard a familiar voice, ”Damn full moons.”. And then she saw a flash of red hair, illuminated by a streetlight that suddenly flickered.

She felt a wide, slow smile begin to spread on her lips as she put two and two together. Of course. . . Dahlia walked a little closer to the couple, calling out in a friendly tone, ”Fancy meeting you here. . . What? You didn’t save a little fun for me?”

[/b][/blockquote][/blockquote][/size]

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TAGS // lars&giselle
WORDS // four thirty-nine
OUTFIT // |x|
LYRICS // an attempt to tip the scales - bright eyes
CREDIT // ZOESTOLEYOURCAT of caution !
NOTES // sorry it took me until this late to post--today was pretty crazy.
last day of junior year! woot! hope this is 'kay. (:

[Giselle Audley]

There seemed to be no time between the gunshots, and the beast's yelps and speedy departure. That was her Lars, pulling out a gun before wasting time in hand to hand combat. Lars never left without the thing, and he had a good reason for that - Giselle had many spontaneous enemies that desired to hurt her spontaneously. Just because Lars was with her, he was considered an enemy as well, or something to weaken Giselle with. It was never a dull moment. Giselle preferred to not resolve her fights with guns, it wasn't as fun. The fight was better without a simple shot to end it. She lived for the exhilaration, and her life was pretty exciting. But Lars didn't fight unless it was necessary, and Giselle considered it a good thing that there was a gun on at least one of them should something turn hairy.

Giselle grabbed Lars's hand and was pulled to her feet. "You should have got it between the eyes, it's fur was decent for a liner," she commented, disappointment evident in her tone. Just then, something other than injured werewolf invaded her senses. She knew that smell, and she also knew that voice. The owner of both was walking toward them, first a dark figure shrouded by the night, then illuminated by the street lamp. Dahlia was back! Giselle was all smiles at the sight of her friend. "Hey! It's great to see you! And you wouldn't have wanted in on that, thing barely put up a fight," she reassured. Dahlia's timing couldn't be any more perfect. Giselle dearly missed her company. She was feeling friendless and lonely lately, especially after Vegas where mostly everyone wanted her dead. Lars had been her only company, and a fine one at that. However, he couldn't fulfill her dire need of girl talk. Dahlia was the perfect solution to this problem. It was the same with Lars and Luke, Giselle was limited help when Lars needed crazy boyish antics.

"You remember Lars," Giselle courteously introduced him. She closed the distance between herself and Dahlia and gave her a hug. Separating, she said, "We have so much to talk about. A lot has happened since I've last seen you," she informed. This was absolutly wonderful meeting Dahlia here. She was one of her not- too-many friends after she got together with Lars. Giselle was positive her social life was destroyed when she couldn't drink from humans anymore until she met Dahlia. Since then, Giselle sought out the company of other vampires who didn't drink from humans as well.

----------------------------------------------
Notes: Sorry it took me so long.
Winding down from junior year, it's absolute chaos.

[Ellie]

i'mhereandi'mhurtingtobeginagain.

right here, standing on a rooftop screaming.

Lars looked with Giselle to the direction of the voice, a pout forming on his face in case it was another trying to ruin their bit of the stroll. He hand was already back into his jacket, ready to pull out the hot gun. But once the face and voice registered, a slier image emerged on his face, simply glad that it wasn't an enemy, or a curious bystander for that matter either.

He let the two women exchange their greetings, giving Dahlia a turn up of his lips and a handshake, a simple, "Hey," escaping the smile. He and Dahlia hadn't exactly had time to hit anything off on way of a friendship like her and Giselle obviously had. Plus, Lars hadn't been exactly treated in the highest regards in the presence of some of Giselle's other friends. Rich French women, he guessed, weren't usually seen with the Yankees with tattoos and piercings, unless of course that Yankee happened to be a very famous musician with fifty times the amount of money Lars had ever had in his posesion... and Lars just, wasn't that. Then again, he always had to turn up a brow at the fact that Jack hadn't really been the best of social status before his marriage. Lars liked to mentally poke the fact that she, maybe even subconsciously, was attracted to those of lower socio-economic status. Opposites attract after all.

All that and the fact that Lars had persuaded her to take the non-human diet gave him a bad name among her social circle. Lars saw it a little more than that, though. Considering how strong a women Giselle really was, and the fact that he'd made her change her originally set-in-stone ways, probably made people wonder how the fuck he did it. Quite intimidating, really, he was, among all the pompous vampires. To hell if he cared, he didn't quite enjoy their company anyway. Although the question still loomed in the air, now that Giselle and himself too were slowly forming a human diet again, whether or not she would re-associate herself. He wouldn't stop her, though, assuming he'd be able to wedge himself in there somehow. He was flexible.

Dahlia was different though. She stood with them both on most thoughts about the whole thing. Which was good for an easy time. Despite the fact that they had no real say between each other, Lars didn't have any problem with the female vampire. Of course Giselle was entitled to her girlfriends. And Lars was never the kind of guy who just had to know whom she was hanging around with and her friends every details, and at the same time he had no problem with finding a mutual friendship.

Lars adjusted his jacket, making sure the .45 was securely in the inside pocket before directing his attention at Giselle's shredded shirt. Anyone could very well see her pale torso and lacy bra through the battle wounds the garment took. Lars decided to speak up before the two went into playing catch up, "You know, baby, you looked like you just came out of a fight with bears, and the said bears left you lacking shirt-age, for everyone else's enjoyment of course," his lips turned up, hoping he'd found a way to put that without embarrassing her. He wasn't particularly sure what exactly she'd do about it. though. Maybe the fact he'd dressed heavily in the early summer night wasn't such a bad thing, "Want my jacket?" he voiced, his last comment toward sher ripped attire.

He turned to Dahlia once a half smirk spreading across a cheek, "They all should be de-clawed.... really."

001. COUNT 587 002. MUSIC Green Day
003. NOTES eehhhhh >.> 004. ATTIRE x

[depoisoning]

I M G O I N G T O C L E A N THESE VEINS A G A I N

SO CLOSE TO DYING THAT I FINALLY

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”Hey! It’s great to see you! And you wouldn’t have wanted in on that, thing barely put up a fight.

Dahlia smiled at the familiar friendly face. She had begun to miss her friend—and there were no other like Giselle. Dahlia came to Paris yearly just to experience the city. . . but this time she had made her visit early. New York was beginning to feel so claustrophobic. . . To many people in too small a place.

Dahlia frowned, saying in response to Giselle’s last comment, ”Still. . . it’s nearly impossible to expel that kind of physical energy. Too many witnesses in New York.”

[/color] Her lips curled into a wry smile—she was no experience fighter, but she couldn’t help but love the adrenaline rush a good fight brought.

”You remember Lars,” Giselle said, gesturing toward the man beside her.

”Of course,”[/color] Dahlia said kindly, smiling in his direction, ”It’s good to see you again.”[/color]

Lars shook her hand, offering a casual, ”Hey.” The two hadn’t by any means had a long meaningful conversation with the other. Their relationship was very brief, if anything, always casual and light. Giselle was really the only reason for them spending time together, and though he and Dahlia hadn’t exactly clicked, she did still enjoy his company.

And then Giselle was hugging Dahlia. It was funny how a vampire’s hug could be so warm. After separating, Giselle said, ”We have so much to talk about. A lot has happened since I’ve last seen you.”

Dahlia smiled widely. ”I’m excited to hear it. Life has been so slow in New York. . . if that’s even possible. The same old song and dance, I guess. I’m afraid I might not have as much information to share. But I’m sure there’s something. . .”

There always was.

” You know, baby, you looked like you just came out of a fight with bears, and the said bears left you lacking shirt-age, for everyone else's enjoyment of course. Want my jacket?” asked Lars, acknowledging Giselle’s now shredded sweater. Watching the couple in front of her made a small part in Dahlia ache. It seemed that everyone around her lately had been either pairing off or already happily-paired. She was left alone. . . still pining for the same vampire she had been for over sixty years. Pathetic. . .

Lars snapped Dahlia out of her brief moment of self-pity, saying, ”They all should be de-clawed. . . really.”

She laughed and agreed, ”Claws really are inconvenient, aren’t they?[/b]
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TAGS // lars&giselle
WORDS // four thirty-six
OUTFIT // |x|
LYRICS // an attempt to tip the scales - bright eyes
CREDIT // ZOESTOLEYOURCAT of caution !
NOTES // hmm. . . so. tired.

[Giselle Audley]

Lars brought to attention her lack of shirt. Giselle didn't need to glance down to know her company was having an easy look at her undergarment. Giselle shrugged, "It happens." She lost many tops to the claws of a werewolf, and often returned to her mansion shirtless. She never had the luxury of a boyfriend's jacket between Jack's leave and Lars's entrance. She didn't mind, and was positive Lars didn't either. But Dahlia was here, and seeing old friends were a rarity, so decency was a must. She took Lars's jacket and slipped in on, "Thanks, love."

She returned her attention to Dahlia, "The night is still young, we might find another werewolf," she put in. Pleasure fights were a lot more fun with a partner. Lars had his gun to offer, and only his fists if it was absolutly necessary. Many rightfully argued and tried reasoning with Giselle that he wasn't the type of guy for her, and she agreed, Lars definitely wasn't. He was better than her type, the stuffed up vampires who married the rich not because of a special connection, but because they needed to be with someone as wealthy as themselves.

Giselle's happiness had only been in jeopardy when Jack, her first love, came back. But even then she preferred Lars, which was unthinkable, but he loved her for her, wealthy or poor. Jack was only after the wealth.

"I've been in the States this past month. Vegas, Savannah, and then Vegas again. Georgia was for vacay. Vegas for... business. But vacation or not, as usual we were tracked. We ran into a cop in Savannah. Thought we were up to no good," Giselle looked to Lars and beamed, "Which we were. But what's a few dead humans in one of the most haunted places in America? A good fright was in order, haunted my ass. Savannah can thank us for a good tourist season, superstitious fools the lot of them," Giselle moved closer to Lars, glancing at him before she continued.

"But yeah, wherever we went, someone wanted us gone or dead. Typical of my life. It's good to be back. Lars has been pretty patient with the excitement, but we're both drained, isn't that right, darling?" she inquired to get him involved in the conversation. His input was welcome.

[Ellie]

i'mhereandi'mhurtingtobeginagain.

right here, standing on a rooftop screaming.

"Ha!" Lars voiced, trying to interject himself a little more into the painful, or at least what the thought painf, small talk, "New York is never slow," he smiled, having the need to stand up for his city. "I was born and raised in New York, you know," he spoke as he removed his jacket for Giselle, feeling refreshed and cooler once it was gone.

He shuffled some items like his wallet, phone and cigarettes into his pockets before draping the worn motor cycle jacket onto Giselle's shoulders. The jacket itself was ancient. An heirloom, pretty much, from Lars's father. That jacket had truly seen it all, from the Punk Revolution to the revival, and like hell did it have the worn character to prove it.

Lars was left in a plain red and black plaid buttoned shirt, the sleeves rolled to quarter length.

Lars scoffed with the fact that they might meet another wolf, "Let's fucking hope not," he smiled lighting up another cigarette. He let Giselle reiterate their most frequent misadventures. She was better at communicating with her friend than he was.

He gazed over at Giselle while his cigarette was pressed between his lips, a close mouthed grin taking place as she recollected Savannah. A conservative grin on his face, hinting in mischief, "Yeah... Savannah was a ball. But the jet-lag.. well, you know," he shrugged off, giving mind to his cigarette.

Lars's eyes wandered the lamp-lit streets at the girls conversed. Hazel eyes shrouded in smoke glanced over the seemingly quiet Paris outskirt street. His eyes locked on to one particular figure though, his neck turned at an odd and strained angle away from the pair so he could see him in view.

Lars turned his head back. The man was old and withered, it seemed, clad in dirty and gruff clothing. Lars assumed he was merely a vagabond, and nothing to worry over. But the fact that the said man had been intently staring at the trio forced Lars to remember to keep an weary eye on the individual.

A few more moments went by and Lars looked back over his shoulder once more, the man had moved closer now to wear they stood. He now sat adjacent to a bush that was fairly close to wear Lars had gunned down the werewolf.

It felt increasingly awkward to look back at the man, for the mere reason that he was staring intently straight back at him. Lars turned his head back to the girls, taking a drag from his cigarette.

He started in a calm voice, "That hobo has been staring at us for God knows how long... I suggest we walk?" he suggested, not to draw himself to conclusions. With a few foot steps himself, Lars took on glance back.

It was then he saw the blood stains from what seemed like bullet wounds on the cement.

And the spiraling fire-cracker soaring it's way straight at his unprotected torso.

001. COUNT 486 002. MUSIC Smashing Pumpkins
003. NOTES there we go! 004. ATTIRE x

[depoisoning]

I M G O I N G T O C L E A N THESE VEINS A G A I N

SO CLOSE TO DYING THAT I FINALLY

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Dahlia laughed lightly at Lars’ remark about New York. ”Well. . . I wasn’t exactly born and raised in New York, but I have lived there for about half a century. When you’ve been there that long, believe me, it does tend to seem slow.”

She laughed again at his answer to Giselle, ”Let’s fucking hope not.” She hadn’t actually been in a hand-to-hand (or hand-to-paw, she wasn’t exactly sure) combat with another werewolf in years—which was probably a good enough reason for her to quietly agree with Lars. Even if the thought of fighting did seem quite appealing.

Giselle jumped into an explanation of the couple’s most recent adventures, which left Dahlia listening intently. She knew her friends lived quite a separate life from her own, but still, Giselle’s stories always came as a surprise. She smiled as she replied to Giselle’s and Lars’ latest remarks, ”I could only imagine the two of you are exhausted after all of that activity. But you’re definitely going to have to give me the juicy details later, sounds pretty interesting.”

A slight breeze picked up from the south, ruffling Dahlia’s dark, choppy bob and floral skirt. With it, the pleasant scents of Paris were interlaced. But she did smell the faint scent of blood. . . which was a little confusing, though she just assumed it was from the wolf that had been shot earlier. What else could it be?

Lars turned and looked behind him, then said, ”That hobo has been staring at us for God knows how long. . . I suggest we walk?” Dahlia looked over his shoulder, only to see a man standing not too far away who did look very homeless, all tattered and dirty. How had she not noticed him before?

She began following Lars, but had only taken a few steps when she saw what looked like a large flame hurtling straight towards Lars. Instinct took over as she grabbed for the back of his shirt and pulled him backwards in one swift movement, an act that took a little less than half a second. She turned to face the threat, an animalistic growl escaping the back of her throat.

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TAGS // lars&giselle
WORDS // three seventy-four
OUTFIT // |x|
LYRICS // an attempt to tip the scales - bright eyes
CREDIT // ZOESTOLEYOURCAT of caution !
NOTES //Sorry, again, it took so long. My summer schedule is
not the most forgiving. . . and it's going to be kind of crazy
until the end of July. So, sorry if my posts are few and far between!

[Giselle Audley]

The metallic odor that was blood wafted over to the vampires from the general direction of the bush where Lars shot the werewolf. All three creatures reacted, but didn't comment upon it. Giselle kept vigilant and never considered for a moment it was just a coincidence. Instead of upsetting the little camaraderie, she kept their conversation afloat. "It's never a dull moment. We're perpetually kept on our toes... expecting the unexpected," she commented.

Lars called to attention a seedy looking character watching them intensely. Giselle fidgeted antsily, slightly perturbed, "What a creeper," she remarked anxiously. The shady figures presence was making her edgy and restless. Her intuition was screaming for more distance between themselves and the eccentric. Lars made the excellent proposition to walk. Giselle nodded appreciatively at this motion, but didn't take wary eyes off the creep.

Giselle took a few steps backwards, but kept compulsively on guard. The silhouette of the stalker took a few steps forward as well, and then reached into it's shabby overcoat. Giselle's eyes narrowed to slits. She pulled her lips back to bare pointed incisors in warning, but the creature was adamant about following through with his assault. As soon as he pulled out the firecracker, even before he'd lit it, Giselle was pulling off the jacket and lurching for the fuckers neck.

The werewolf was already starting to shift. Before Giselle got to him, he was a big mass of chocolate fur. With a magnificent growl, she took a running leap for it's back. But the werewolf was anticipating this, having become the wiser to Giselle's combatant techniques. The wolf was all business, his reflective green eyes mirrored his determination to murder Giselle. He flipped himself onto his back and extracted his freakishly long claws. Giselle belly flopped onto all 18 of them. They pierced her body, and the wolf used her bafflement to his advantage.

He rolled over again and firmly pinned the vampire. Giselle snarled and thrashed, but it was futile. His back paws held her legs down while his front two slashed at her face, neck, and chest. The wolf's teeth tore into her shoulder. He twisted his canines viciously, withdrew them, then ripped into a different area. Giselle's arms were free, and she had her hands around his neck until he jerked his head around until he freed himself, then he began ripping chunks of flesh from her arms.

The werewolf was eating her, and Giselle couldn't scream or move. The only thing she could do was let it happen.

[Ellie]

i'mhereandi'mhurtingtobeginagain.

right here, standing on a rooftop screaming.

Lars felt a cold hand at the back of his shirt, everything happening quickly and in a blur. He staggered back out of reach from the firecracker. It skidded down the sidewalk, dying out anticlimactically. If only it had ended there.

Giselle removed his jacket before lunging at the wolf again, how quaint and thoughtful. Lars didn't care that much for the simple article of clothing, and it would have very well done her good if she had kept it on, the leather at least providing a second layer to rip through besides her bare skin. He would have much rather her kept it on.

He instinctively went first to help Giselle, Dahlia he assumed would be by his side. He first tried to grab the smelly animal around it's waist and pull it off, but it's claws were too far sunken in to, what he guessed was his lover's skin. It made his stomach curl and anger flare, nonetheless.

He gave up that futile attempt, leaving the close range tactics to Dahlia. Lars flew again to his jacket that lie on the curb. He'd searched his torso before remembering he left the gun in the inside pocket of the item. Funny how he was now glad she had removed it.

It took mere seconds to have the weapon cocked and ready at the animals head. The mindless brute was too preoccupied with Giselle to notice much more. Lars's patience and mercy had run thin, and with the third gun shot for the night, a bullet rested silently in the skull of the dead wolf.

"Thank you," he voiced to Dahlia, his breath coming down from being worked up over the short ordeal.

His eyebrows knitted as he got down on a knee and glanced over Giselle's nasty wounds. Asking if she was okay would be stupid. And to be truthful, he had no idea what to do with her bleeding self.

001. COUNT 317 002. MUSIC Marilyn Manson
003. NOTES booo number fail. 004. ATTIRE x

[depoisoning]

I M G O I N G T O C L E A N THESE VEINS A G A I N

SO CLOSE TO DYING THAT I FINALLY

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Dahlia followed Lars swiftly to where Giselle and the wolf were brutally fighting. Although she didn’t know what to do, she knew every second she spent deciding could be critical. Letting instinct take over, Dahlia seized the wolf’s neck between her arms in a sort of headlock, bracing her legs against the ground. This at least kept the beast from ripping at Giselle with its teeth. Dahlia tried to snap the wolf’s large neck between her frail-looking arms, but his constant trashing made it nearly impossible, tossing her small body in all directions.

Just when she felt like she couldn’t hold on any longer, Lars seemed to materialize in front of her from nowhere. He was holding a gun. Still keeping a firm grip on the brute’s neck, she put her hand under its chin and angled its head in Lars’ direction, giving him a perfect shot between the eyes.

With a loud bang, the wolf went completely limp in Dahlia’s arms. She rolled the massive creature off of her friend, kicking it to the side. She kneeled on the ground opposite of where Lars stood. Her lungs were expanding in short, shallow breaths—not out of necessity, she certainly wasn’t out of breath, but more because of shock.

”Thank you,” she heard Lars say, still standing above her.

She looked up and briefly met his gaze, but quickly looked back down at Giselle saying casually, “Oh yeah, no problem.”

[/color]

He kneeled across from Dahlia and the pair sat in silence, examining the Giselle’s wounds. There were shallow bite marks on her face, neck, and chest—wounds that would heal quickly for any vampire. The real problem were the deep holes where the wolf’s claws had pierced through her skin. The smell of blood was overwhelming.

Dahlia had long since gotten over her bloodlust, but the scent still did make her feel uncomfortable. She forced herself to stop breathing, hoping to eliminate the harsh aroma.

Dahlia remained aware of the time passing. The trio really shouldn’t stay out in the open for much longer—the more time they spent, the more vulnerable they made themselves of discovery. A confrontation with the human authorities would just be the perfect end to this night.[/blockquote][/blockquote][/size]

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TAGS // lars&giselle
WORDS // three seventy-seven
OUTFIT // |x|
LYRICS // an attempt to tip the scales - bright eyes
CREDIT // ZOESTOLEYOURCAT of caution !
NOTES // ah! i'm back! ((:

[Giselle Audley]

With a blood soaked muzzle, the wolf was gnawing at her shoulder when the cavalry came to the rescue. Lars failed in his attempt to dislodge the wolf's claws which were rooted into her body. The beast was in an eating frenzy, driven by blood lust and the overriding need to kill. Giselle whipped her head around and plunged her fangs into the wolf's leg. The motion didn't faze it. It was far too engrossed with her shoulder. If someone didn't do something now, there wouldn't be much left of it.

Giselle was seething with anger. Being nothing more than a piece of meat in this animal's eyes, being in such a vulnerable position, feeling powerless enraged her. She kept her canines firmly embedded in the wolf's leg, hoping it would eventually bother him enough to remove his jaws from her shoulder which felt unbearable at this point. She released her bite and let loose a brutal scream. The wolf's fur bristled from the savage shriek. There was truly no sound on Earth like it. The penetrating sound jarred it's nerves and drove it crazy.

Dahlia's timing was impeccable. The wolf's jowls were literally a hair's-breadth from crushing her scapula, which was plainly exposed now that all muscle in her upper right arm and shoulder was ripped completly from it, just gone. What remained was a deep, wide, gory cavern spouting blood since one of her main arteries was cleaved in half. The walls of the chasm shape wound was crudely riddled with severed veins, stringy, ravaged sinew, particulates of cords of tissue, tendons, and a mutilated bicep, all grotesquely course and grainy in texture and oozing with blood.

Dahlia was holding the wolf's chops at bay, and seemed to be struggling with it. The animal was visibly livid. Snarling and snapping it's jaw furiously. It tossed it's head around and bucked, taking Dahlia along for the ride and finally relieving Giselle of it's claws. She took the opportunity to roll onto her side and shelter her shoulder from further damage, but a harsh yelp later she discovered her collar bone was broken and had punctured through just under her neck.

A shot exploded and strangled the air of anymore noise. Complete silence save for the heavy breathing of the trio and low moans of pure agony from Giselle. She collapsed to her back in the ocean of her own blood, gulping down air. Dahlia and Lars clearly hadn't recovered yet, but they were hovering over her. She couldn't imagine what they saw. She didn't even want to know what she looked like.

Deep, macabre slashes ran at all angles across her face. Similar grisly claw marks were all over her body, mainly her torso and chest. Her legs were in great shape compared to waist up, except for where the wolf punctured with it's nails. But these were already starting to heal up. Her stomach was shredded. She lifted her head and almost vomited when she saw a puddle of pink. Her small intestine. Trailing from her body and accumulating like a coil of ribbon.

The most morbid and painful wound of all was of course her shoulder. It was still bleeding heavily; draining it felt like -- vampires had a lot of blood. Having a colossal chunk of muscle ripped from your bone was torture. The gushing blood intensely weakened her. She needed blood immediately before she was reduced to a dried up husk. Lars and Dahlia seemed to be at a loss. They were just staring at her, not saying a word. Time to take charge.

"Someone PLEASE do something! One of you, put my intestine back in my stomach before it heals." Like hell she was doing it herself. Her vantage point was terrible, and she couldn't sit up until this was done. "Tie off a tourniquet above my shoulder. If the bleeding stops, it'll heal faster." Yes, yes. No more bleeding. She was feeling faint. "Get that jacket. Help me up and cover me. Take me back to the mansion," she snapped. "GodDAMN!" Giselle wailed, she clutched at her shoulder. "C'MON, FUCKING MOVE!" she snarled through gritted teeth. Her temper and patience was not to be trifled with right now. Lars understood she meant no offense to them. Her shoulder was searing with white hot pain. She needed more action and less gawking. Giselle glanced at the deceased wolf. A wide, triumphant smile spread across her face.

"And I want that mother fucker's pelt to hang on my wall. One of you drag the body back!"

[Ellie]

Lars's thoughtful and worried gaze was broken by Giselle's shrieking, the once fretful hazel eyes brightened a little. Her giving orders was a good sign. This could all be fixed with time, simple as that. "Right," he breathed out through a small grin, glancing at Dahlia who was squatted on the other side of his distressed lover.

His gaze fell, but his grin rose, "You might wanna wipe your face off," he suggested, considering her pale features were splattered with the menacing wolf's blood. Cons to being behind target practice. Bullets were anything but clean, like the movies suggested. Especially when an animal such as that took one between the eyes. She was lucky it go clean through the skull, probably resulting on some brains on her blouse, along with a bullet in her own chest.

But now, his concentration was on the... intestine around Giselle's body. "Uhm," he spoke hesitantly, grimacing at the grotesque sight. He'd seen his fair share of horror movies and gore, but he could never stomach the medical channel. And this was just that. With the barrel of the gun and a hooked finger he slowly started maneuvering the thing back into her body, a few "ew"s and "ugh"s accompanying. Doctor Trell he was not. But within a few moments all the silky pink was back into it's original holdings, the wound, although still open, was visibly healing. Lars figured what was left of her shirt could be tightened around there anyways, seeing as it wasn't doing much to act as a shirt any further up her torso.

Lars tended to Giselle's shoulder, using the handkerchief around her neck, "Everything else ripped to shreds but this remains..?"

[/color] he puzzled, taming her hair with on hand as the other un-knotted the cloth. He was good at keeping his cool in situations such as these, not to mention Giselle's rants humored him somewhat. Though, you wouldn't catch him admitting it, for his own sake.

The said handkerchief has simply been strained and cast over by the wolf's muzzle, something that was too minuscule to get in the way. Although it was a bit tattered and very stained and very wrinkled, it served as a wonderful aid to stock the blood flow on her arm. The gun rest beside him on the sidewalk as he tied of the last knot gently, but firmly enough so it could do it's job.

He glanced up, still viewing no witnesses to the incident. Good, no need to attract anymore attention. Although, surely, either vampire or werewolf would be attracted to the smell of the bloodshed in some time.

He sighed, glancing over at Dahlia, who he had been expecting to retrieve the jacket from whence it was discarded. "Do you want to walk?" he asked Giselle with a raised brow. Her legs hardly suffered damage, but he didn't mind spoiling her either.

Before she could answer he glanced over at the corpse of the wolf, a wide pool pf blood, snaking it's way into the cracks of the concrete and growing, threatening to spill over onto the road. "I think we should name it,"[/color] he chimed, getting up from his position, an arm around Giselle's upper torso to help her do the same, "Es-oh-bee, it's fitting."[/color][/blockquote]

538 words after and with a long listen to mcr not ot mention an outfit like this all I have to say is, tehehe, Jordan you can start us back to the mansion. then we can settle over tea and cake .__.