one track mind. ;; open.

[xanthe valyntine]

X A N T H E x V A L Y N T I N E
Theres an art in seclusion, production in depression.
If a stranger turns up missing, this song is my c o n f e s s i o n.

Working undercover wasn't exactly one of Xanthe's favorite parts of the job she had. It took too much effort and too much time, when all she could be doing was sneaking in under the cloak of darkness and taking care of the trouble maker, but no. The secret service had to do it the hard way. The role she had to play was a wealthy traveler attending the annual ball at the Amsterdam court. It was a beautiful place. The room looked like a painting brought to life. Xanthe wore a sleek, red cocktail dress with a pair of black heels. The dress wasn't something a girl like Xanthe should wear. Not body wise, because her body was fit and lean, but tattoo wise. The one on her shoulder, neck, and arms showed and it seemed to draw the eye of too many of the gentlemen in the room. Not what she wanted, exactly, but she'd have to work with it. Xanthe wore her hair down to hide the small headphone piece in her ear. The thick, milk chocolate waves laid gently on her toned shoulders. Any signs of something... odd? a voice buzzed in her ear. No. She responded, taking a sip of her champagne cassually.

Xanthe's blue eyes scanned the room, taking in every single move. Every single expression. Nothing seemed abnormal. Why was she even here if nothing was going on? Val. He's not coming. the voice in her ear buzzed once more. A not so pleasant look crossed the wolf's features. Reaching up to her ear, she pulled the piece out and set the glass of champange down before turning and walking down the steps of the ball room. Once outside, the chilly air of Amsterdam cut to her, but had no affect. The sun was nearly over the horizon and she could feel the moon sliding up the other side of the skin. It made her skin itch. A black van pulled up to the sidewalk, stopping in front of her. Sorry Val... Not what the plan was. the man driving said apologetically. Thats why I don't like taking undercover calls. They're a waist of time. she snapped, throwing the ear piece int he van before turning and walking down the street.

Sitting beneath the yellow glow of the streetlight was a black Ducatti street bike. On the back was a black duffel bag, holding the clothes she came on. Unzipping it, Xanthe pulled out a pair of dark blue skinny jeans. Kicking off her heels, she slid them up over her sleek legs and tucked the red dress down in it. Reaching to her thighs, she unleashed the thigh strap that contained one of her back up pistols. She never brought her Desert Eagles in on undercover missions. They were too big of guns. Unloading the weapon, she put it down into the duffel back and zipped it up after getting her leather coat out and pulling it on. Mounting the street bike, she cranked down on the starter and it growled to life. Shifting it into gear, she glanced over her shoulder before pulling out onto the street.

Xanthe stopped outside of a local pub. Shutting the bike off and pushing the kickstand down, she climbed off the bike and untangled her milk chocolate hair, looking up at the moon that was slowly beginning to ascend in the sky. It was only a cresent moon, she her natural instinct to shift wasn't pestering her. Turning her blue gaze back to the door, she walked to it and made her way inside. The wolf moved to the bar, her alert gazing watching everyone inside the pub. It was a Saturday, so it was quite busy. Prowling gazes of some of the men followed her lean figure as she walked to the bar, only turning away once she sat down. When she did, the bartender walked to her and she ordered a small glass of whiskey to nurse while she sat there. Undercover jobs always stressed her out.

Her phone suddenly buzzed in her pocket. Reaching down, she pulled it from her jeans and slid the answer button. Valyntine. she answered sharply, frustrated that someone was bothering her while she was trying to relax. Didn't go so well, did it Agent Valyntine? came a low, husky voice. The werewolf's blue eyes narrowed icily, her hand clentching slightly on the glass she held. Who is this? she demanded, her tone commanding and dangerous. The voice only chuckled before hanging up. Dammit. she hissed, her blue eyes flashing yellow as her anger began to awaken the animal dwelling inside of her. Taking another sip of whiskey, she managed to calm herself enough to soothe the wolf inside of her.

Tell the tales of the trail of dead, lovers learn from slower hands.
Losing self in myself, inner demons make d e m a n d s.

WORDS 791
TAGGED x
TUNES Reclusion
NOTES hope you enjoy her.
DESCRIPTION Female - 27 - Werewolf - Brown Hair - Blue Eyes - Dress - Heels

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[xanthe valyntine]

that sounds wonderful! thank you!

[Vienna Charavelli]

[atrb=width,400,true] [BG=F1DEDE] So far, this day had been a deeply satisfying one. She had woken up in her room, with a fun little stranger in her bed. The boy was lucky; she wasn’t hungry yet so he would get to walk out of this hotel room alive and satisfied. After stretching out her long limbs she slinked over to the shower turned it as hot as the luxurious little room was capable and sank underneath to feel the steady beat of water over her body, further relaxing her muscles and her mind. Standing up straighter after a minute or two Vienna cleaned herself off and turned the water off. Walking to the closet in a pink robe, Vienna grabbed a smoke off her coffee table. Hmm…what to wear for a fast little hunting trip, obviously something sexy. Swinging open the mirrored closet door, she reached for one of the hotel’s wooden hangers and pulled from it a casual, emerald green dress that had one long sleeve and a short skirt. Walking down the beautiful city’s roads, she ducking into the nearest pub she found and snuck to the bar trying not to attract too much attention. Once she found her way to a stool and had ordered a drink, she scooped the place out. It was always easier to find a fast meal in a pub rather than a club or bar. In clubs, guys were expecting to have a choice of drunk girls while in a pub, the crowd was older and partied less, meaning that if a girl like her stumbled into the room acting drunk and dressed the way she was, she would quickly be escorted back home, or just to the bathroom. She turned around on her stool and faced the boy next to her. “Hey darling, do you know what time it is? I’ve been up all night.” Vienna slurred her way through the words and leaned over giggling, putting a hand on his thigh. Watching the smirk spread across his face, Vienna had to work to hide her animalistic excitement, she continued flirting with the poor man until he got up and took her hand. Towing him along she pranced into the bathroom whipped them into a stall and bit down. Walking out, Vienna felt no need to keep up the act, but a satisfied smirk was on her face. She quickly roamed back to her hotel room and dressed for a ball she was to attend. She put on a thin layer of makeup, some shimmery eye shadow and thick mascara to complete her look. It wasn’t long until she was out again, this time calling a taxi to get her to the courtroom. Vienna strutted into the ballroom, commanding attention as she always did. Her hot pink dress was high on her thighs, surely focusing attention to her long, slim legs, leading down to her feet which were in expensive high heeled black boots. The top of her dress was concealed by a tight leather jacket that showed off her slim, but still curvy figure. She held a clutch in one hand and managed to look, as always, like a refined badass. She managed to retain her class, but give herself an edge no one else compared to, especially since danger was always around, considering she was the walking dead. She made her way across the room to the bar. "How about some Jack?" she said coyly to the bartender and while others waited for their drink Vienna was quickly handed her, another bonus of instantly drawing the eye. There was only one disadvantage; she always seemed to be getting herself into trouble. The Count:612-ish Outfit:this Notes and Stuff:Sorry, I’m a little bit rusty.

[xanthe valyntine]

[atrb=width,450,true][atrb=border,0,false][cs=0][bg=000000] Xanthe had been sitting there for a good thirty minutes when two of the most disgusting smells ripped through her senses. She turned her sapphire blue eyes to the entrance and saw a tall girl in a hot pink dress stalking towards the bar. She reeked of vampire and blood. Xanthe's nose curled and she felt her lips curl over her fangs. She couldn't stand vampires. The way they carried themselves and acted... it made her sick. She turned back to the bar, gritting her teeth. She could tell this night wasn't going to be her best. Just my luck. Xanthe finished off the whiskey instead of nursing it when the female sat down beside her and ordered jack. Oh, great. She smelled bad enough. You reek. she told her eyeing her with now gold eyes. The look reflecting in them wasn't exactly friendly, but it was better than other looks she could conjure up on a regular basis. Xanthe had it already in her mind that she was here first and she wasn't going to leave just because a vampire came waltzing in like a princess. It was the territorial instincts that dwelled within any wolf. Xanthe couldn't help it really. The bartender passed and eyed her glass, and the wolf nodded to him, allowing him to refill it with the warming alcohol. Her yellow eyes had faded back to their original blue hue. Her milk chocolate locks lay on her back, but the hairs at her nape were standing on end. She was alert and watching the vampire very carefully. The smell was starting to fade a bit as she became more accustumed to the scent. It was still putrid. Not something that she would want to sit around and linger in. Just than, her phone rang again and her reaction was hasty as she answered and put it to her ear in one quick motion. Valyntine. she snapped, ready to hear the same voice from before. No such luck. This time, it was the agency. Were sending you in again soon, but this time. No undercover. Quick kill. Go for the throat. No pun intended. the male voice told me, and Xanthe smirked. Funny. she responded before hanging up. That conversation just lifted her spirits a bit. Good. Thats how a job should be done. They would probably have her wait until the next full moon so she could use the change to her advantage. It was simple. With the added speed of not only a supernatural creature but four massive legs, she could sprint through wherever the operation was and rip throats left and right. Yes, it would be a blood bath, but no one would know what hit the place. Xanthe downed the rest of her alcohol, setting the glass down with a clank. The bartender turned his head to eye the brunette beauty for an instant before going back to taking another order. ----------------------------------------------- WORDS 489 NOTES its ok. this could have been better but im kind of distracted at the moment. haha.