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[size=20pt]logan charles moriati 〮[/size]

[size=7pt]it's the wrong time
she's pulling me through 〮[/size]

"Eh...I move around a lot.", Logan replied with a shrug, leaning but against a convenient near-by tree, his eyebrows pulled together slightly in a hawk-like frown, as he thought of the arguments that had caused him to be disowned those years before. His parents lived in New York, so he was obligated to see them - at least once a month. Should he tell these girls that? Well, he barely knew them. Wouldn't want to scare them off with the whole disownment thing, he thought wryly, an eyebrow raising slightly.

"I drop in about once a month to meet up with some people - and to see my parents."

Great. Now he sounded like a spoilt brat - coming to check in with his parents at least once a month. He sighed, and rolled his eyes at himself in frustration.

[size=20pt]logan charles moriati 〮[/size]

[size=7pt]it's the wrong time
she's pulling me through 〮[/size]

Logan gave a small roll of his eyes as the newly arrived boy beckoned Patience. Typical, he thought, I start a conversation, and both the participants are getting whisked away from it' He quirked his lips at the girl with glossy black hair, indicating that it was okay to leave, if she wanted to.

He then turned to Evangeline, and gave a sigh. She, too, seemed preoccupied & bored. Maybe it was just him. His insecurities around totally new people were disabling, to some extent. He opened up to people once he knew them, and could even be outgoing with new people sometimes. But, here, today, he felt insignificant & like he was punching well above his weight He gave Evangeline a small smile, before continuing to speak.

"Seattle's great. I came from there recently.", he said quietly, with a small sparkle in his eyes.

[size=20pt]logan charles moriati 〮[/size]

[size=7pt]it's the wrong time
she's pulling me through 〮[/size]

"One of the best places I've ever been to."

Logan smiled, glad to have some common ground - on something he loved, at least. The young man's eyes sparkled as he thought of the shining lights of the city, from the brow of a hill on the outskirts. The pine forests - the dirt underfoot. Oh, it was so evidently perfect. Unfortunately, he parents hated him being so far away. But still, he had loved it in Seattle. Even the rain there was perfect.

"It's a pretty incredible place. It…different…from any other place I know. Everything comes together pretty perfectly there."

Logan sounded like a moron now, but he didn't really care. He loved Seattle - possibly equally with Scotland, if not more. He gave a small smile and looked around him at the sprawl of urbanity around him, with a rueful twitch of his mouth.

[size=20pt]logan charles moriati 〮[/size]

[size=7pt]it's the wrong time
she's pulling me through 〮[/size]

"Nice story."

The dark young man gave a small smile, and a nod, the corners of his mouth twitching. The girl had opened up a little, obviously (unless she was a pathological liar), so he decided to let her know a little about him. He hesitated, then spoke.

"I lived there for a year after my parents disowned me. It was…tough, but Seattle made it better.", he said slowly, not entirely comfortable showing himself to the girl in front of him, "It's been the only place I've gone back to. Ever. It's great there. Everything is just…you get it…"

He trailed off at the end, embarrassed to be seen being so enthusiastic about a city.

мöвιυѕ wrote:

[size=20pt]rebecca mäarika hand 〮[/size]

[size=7pt]cold as winter, white as snow.
summer treasure, hand to hold 〮[/size]

[align=right][color=white][font=garamond]"It's pretty unusual, I guess.", Rebecca said with a nod. It was an odd accent to hold - so different from the fluid new yorker's accent, or anywhere around the states. She played with the silver bracelet on her wrist, then ran a hand through her blond hair, flicking it slightly out of her face as she watched the group

"My parents asked me to come: they say I need to branch out 'friend-wise'", she replied, with a roll of her icy blue eyes, "I personally think they just wanted to get rid of me for Dad's visit to the rigs."

She nodded to Danielle as the other girl walked off, then turned her gaze back to Troy. "So, Troy, what do you do?", she asked, her voice light & pleasant.

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ooc || meeeeerp, regained some muse now - finally ;…; I'm away all weekend walking, so I probably won't reply until monday/tuesday ish :L

1027 words

~

"Trust me, I may not seem dangerous to your inexperienced eye, but I am rather lethal. What use is a panther that cannot use it's claws?", Revenant replied to Grace's first comment, his own breath coming quite naturally & easily in comparison to her's - as it had been when he shifted back. It must have given her quite a shock, surely. A small grin crept onto the man's roguish features then. Though it wasn't a 'good' thing to do (though it was quite obviously that Revenant wasn't too concerned about being 'good' - he had just kidnapped a girl, for pete's sake) he had rather enjoyed scaring her - and the process of scaring that was required to allow him to bring her here. To his hidden sanctuary. His refuge from reality.

Reality.

Crap, Revenant thought, his mind starting to spin double-time as he thought of reality. Of course, none of this showed on his face, so he looked oddly blank for a moment. His employer wanted Grace…the girl…soon. As in, a few days soon. Actually, in two days soon. Well, forty hours, to be exact. This could get…interesting. As could the over-use of ellipses in my thought process, the panther-man thought, bringing himself back to the present, and to the vibrant red-head who possessed the seat next to him. Surprisingly, only a few seconds had passed when he had zoned out, and so there was nothing amiss in the conversation. Yet.

"That's because my fur is soft." The man rolled his eyes, and exasperation overtook him. He could see the girl becoming confused & frustrated - her arms folding, her eyebrows creasing, and her mouth setting into a tight line.

Why did she have to be so pedantic? Over-scrupulous, dogmatic, sophistical, captious - however you wanted to phrase it. It irritated him. He, himself, was meticulous in his work - never a single detail unthought of, or a single contingency unplanned for. His missions were perfect. So far.

"Obviously can frighten things. I have frightened you, obviously - when I was chasing you, and when I shifted." Dark head swishing over his bright, yellowish eyes, he leaned in close and gave a dramatic sniff. "I could smell it…" He looked intently at her, his eyes not so much sparkling as gleaming. He watched her for a moment, his face barely two inches from her's, and surveyed her porcelain face precisely.

As she spun away, and dug into her eggs, he gave a small chuckle. Obviously, no matter of her troubles with him, she enjoyed omelette. He watched her eat, his plate already empty, and raised an arched eyebrow. Then she asked the question.

The question.

Suddenly, he burst out in rigorous laughter. Shockingly rigorous laughter. To the very core of his person, Revenant was laughing, and shaking - a thing he hadn't been caught doing in an incredibly long time. Who was this girl, to be questioning him so intently? His eyes were streaming, and when at last the tremors subsided, there was some strange emotion in his fathomless eyes, his brows uncreased for the first time in days. Screw his employer. Screw the few days he had to deliver her. He could think right here and now, and pretend that she was just the girl he had met in the street.

So, he was a little bi-polar. Well, more than a little, but still, the circumstances merited his apparent mental instability to shine through. He was allowed a little loose in the rein. Revenant supposed she would, in fact, be scared of him (assuming she actually thought he was psychotic) by the time she reacted to his laughing fit.

Since she had met him (since he kidnapped her), he had probably come across as a grim humoured, solemn man, with cold eyes & a cold agenda.

He would answer her question, but by the looks of her expressions, that were flickering across her face, she already knew the answer.

As the chuckles passed off, he sat up and looked at her, voicing the exact words that had been in his mind seconds early. "I think you already know the answer to that, sweetheart." He gave a crooked smile, and tilted his head to one side. "Are you scared of me know? In all honesty, it should be me who is scared of you. After all, your kind hunts down mine regularly, despite what your Government does to conceal it. Actually, in most cases, isn't it them who authorises it in the first place? My kind, we scare you because of myths & legends. Your kind, your kind scare mine because they have systematically hunted us down for millennium, ever since you discovered our existence. Point proven."

Then, the girl did something that surprised him. She asked his name - a question she neither knew the answer to, nor was likely to receive an answer to, then stood, took his plate, and walked to the kitchen.

Oh, dear god. I have a woman in my den. In my sanctuary. In my kitchen. About to clean up plates. This. Cannot. Be. Happening.

Quickly, Revenant sped after Grace, forgetting to even correct himself on her name - she was supposed to be the girl, not Grace. He took the plates firmly from her hands, placed both on her shoulders, and spun her around. "You. Are. A. Captive. Captives do not wash dishes." He was frowning, and his grip was firm. "Go…", he said, struggling to find an alternative for her, "Go change. Second door on the right - there will be clothes in the dresser. None of it will fit you well, but it's better than staying like you are." Not that you look bad', he added silently to himself, allowing himself to appraise the actually rather stunning girl in front of him. She was slender, sleek, and even managed to look great even though she was still dripping wet.

As he turned away from her, to the plates and the sink, he allowed himself a small, grim smile. "I think you know you will not be receiving the knowledge of my name. How about I give you something generic to call me, so you're satisfied?"

ooc || hey, pixel, I replied to your post with Troy, and it's quoted on this page, in my last post :)

[size=20pt]logan charles moriati 〮[/size]

[size=7pt]it's the wrong time
she's pulling me through 〮[/size]

"It was my fault, really."

Logan gave a resigned sigh, and dropped down to sit on the ground under the tree, looking up at the leaf-less branches. "My parents didn't have time for me as a kid, but I was good. The perfect little child. Then came the age of twelve, and the years of defiance. They didn't want to spend time with me. I stopped being so perfect. They only got out of me what they put into me. I dropped the classes they wanted me to take, and took up mountain biking."

The corner of his lips quirked up in a half-smile, and he glanced over at Evangeline, "I was cutting classes to go to competitions, and to practise. When I was sixteen, they disowned me. Not legally, because legally, you can't leave a sixteen year old on their own. But basically, they gave me some money, and told me to get out of their house, unless I was willing to 'get myself back on track'. Since then, I've just been wandering, taking a few free classes where I can. I actually managed to get into a high in Seattle, and graduated there. So now, my parents talk to me again. It's strained, but I think both parties involved know we've both done somethings wrong along the way. They just refuse to admit it. It's a little complicated"

He glanced back over at the girl next to him, "Sorry, it's all pretty boring, and bleak." Logan pulled a slight face, and looked over at the city in front of it.

[img width=505 height=117]http://i39.tinypic.com/20posqo.png[/img]

[font=times new roman]
ooc || it just kind of slipped out ;) since she was the one who woke Alistair up, but then she was the one who knocked him out in the first place. And her fairly alarming bipolarity :P yeah, it sounds awesome(:

"Oh, holy crap, will you just shut up?", I snapped back at her, my lungs burning, and my breath coming out in shuddering rasps as my body yearned for the oxygen it required to function.

Maybe I could learn to do that thing where you shut off the oxygen supply to everything non-essential. It could help, I guess. I could just veggie out for a bit, lie on the road. Maybe let her run over me a few more times. That could help with the pain, I guess. Two short, sharp bursts, and I'd be done. Free to float around without any genetic disorders trying to kill me. As I'd already be dead.

Yipeee, I thought sardonically, struggling even to tune out the incessant abuse flowing fluently from Ms.Vilification over by the rust-bucket of a car. All the while, during my convoluted thought process, she had carried on her stream of slander, which washed over me like shallow water on a wound. Nice to know that somebody cared.

Pulling myself painfully up onto my elbows, my entire body racked with pain, I looked over at the raven-haired, convoluted little thorn in my side which was the angel-devil. Prepared to use my above-average vocabulary of curses in four different languages, I stuttered to a stop.

The girl was bent in half, racked with obvious pain, her face creased and sweat glistening on her brow. What the hell?

The struggled up, and half-dragged my useless body over to her, as she fell. As she fell, I managed to throw myself under her, to cushion the blow. And, instead, I took the majority of the force, crushing down on my already third-class chest. With a groan, I rolled over, pushing her off me, and looked at her. She was passed out. Fully. A deep pass out. A glowing pass out. Literally, a glow was emanating from her. An kind of magic glow.

A flow of Magik.

I let in a shuddering breath, and pulled her upright, into the car. Then I pulled myself to the drivers seat, and began to move the rust-bucket. Back to the place I had run from. Back to the only family I had in the world. Maybe she really was an angel.

~~~

I drove. And drove. Gasping for breath. My eyes watering. As I pulled up the lane, I heard voices. They were already out looking for me. A familiar blond head appeared almost instantly at my window. Alistair...Alistair...look at me', I heard her say, pulling the rust-bucket's door open.

Then I fell, feeling the girl beside me fall slightly too.

Then, darkness.

Warm, soft darkness.

~~~

When I woke, I was in my room, an oxygen mask plastered to my face, and two familiar expressions looking over me: Oscar, his ever present grin lying over his features, and Esther, a look of gentle concern on her face. I immediately felt terrible, and feigned sleep, before feeling a sharp jab in my side.

"C'mon, get up.", came my best friend's rough, husky tone, before I felt myself being lifted from the bed, onto the ground, with the oxygen mask being pulled from my face.

"Oscar, be careful, you idiot.", another, lighter, lilting voice came, with gentle hands that helped me to my feet. I saw the concerned blue eyes, and the sheet of icy blond hair before I managed to shake the blur from my vision to see my surrogate family properly.

"I don't know what you dragged in this morning, but she looks a little rough, and she sure has a bite on her.", Oscar said to me as he roughly brushed me down. I was still in my black jeans & white shirt, which had some blood on them, and were slightly dusty. I shot an angry glare at the mountain of a boy in front of me - somehow feeling protective of the angel-devil.

"Don't be rude.", came Esther's voice once more, tempering the irritation caused by Oscar's words.

"I'd like to see her now.", I said, walking over to my dresser and quickly pulling out a hoody to pull over my stained shirt.

"Second guest bedroom.", came the reply

And so I walked, towards where the angel-devil slept. Did that make it heaven or hell? Perhaps it was purgatory, where all the kindred souls end up.

[size=20pt]logan charles moriati 〮[/size]

[size=7pt]it's the wrong time
she's pulling me through 〮[/size]

Logan watched as the girl sat down beside him, giving her the first relaxed, genuine, open smile he had given for at least a week.

As he listened to her speak, he leant back against the large tree, watching the bare branches sway in the cold breeze. As she finished, he looked over, a smile on his lips as he replied.

"I suppose it is. They still treat it as if it was purely my fault, though. There's always going to be something that we don't see eye to eye on."

He paused, looking around him, before refocusing on the girl's pale face in front of him.

"What about you? Since I've let my secret anguish out, I think you should air something.", he said, giving a crooked, apologetic smile as he spoke. I think that's fair, he added mentally, with a nod to himself.

|| Colourdust gave a happy little nod as the knew medicine cat apprentice was named. It was good to see the clan being to thrive again - with new characters forming already. Eternitypaw was going to be something, that was for sure. He added his voice to the call as well, smiling broadly, "Eternitypaw, Eternitypaw!"

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ooc || nope, ciaran sounds fine. I think the irish suits him. I was going to look for a name, but you found one that was perfect ;)

sorry it took so long <3

1222 words

~

He could hear her behind him. He could hear her delicate little heart fluttering in & out of her chest, mocking him with it's frightful little melody. He didn't want to hurt her, so he wouldn't. But she didn't know that, obviously. Why was it so hard? Why did he care if she was scared of him? She had a right to be, for sure. He had kidnapped her, knocked her out, fought in front of her - he had even shifted right before her eyes. Why did he care that she didn't trust him. She was delicate, fragile - endearing, even. Still, he did not turn around. In a way, he couldn't - because the sight and sound of that fragile little figure brought back flashes of the white feather floating from the tree - and so many other things that would tear him apart.

A snort burst from his lips as she called out her first suggestion of his later ego. Try again, he thought with a grim smile. Captives never guessed his name, or anything near it. After all, the meaning of his name was morbid & slightly chilling - as it fitted his current job perfectly. Oh, irony was delicious. A revenant was a visible ghost or animated corpse that was believed to return from the grave to terrorize the living - according the people of the High Middle Ages. A muscle in his jaw twitched as she named him. "Ciaran sounds just fine to me", he said, keeping his tone perfectly indifferent, still without turning around. Inside, there was the beginning to a storm forming. The name Ciaran brought back...even more memories he wasn't so keen to relive. But still...this was just so wrong. There was a girl in his kitchen. The same height as her - with the same eyes.

In his mind's eyes, he could still see the outline of her body, the pale cusp of her collar bone at the base of her neck, and her piercingly blue eyes, tearing almost straight through him. The hair was different, as was the structure of the face, but the eyes were the same. He shook his head. She was similar, but not identical.

Turning his mind from such things, he tired to grasp what she was thinking. She had seen her eyes flicker up & down him, and had seen the apprehension in her eyes. He appreciated her looks, for sure, but he was not lusting after her. To do such a thing was not only crude & extremely disgusting, in most cases - it was unprofessional. In his work, there was a personal-professional line that could not be crossed, regardless. However, it was not only the 'line' that restrained him. To control & brutalise a woman was totally beyond him - the reasoning & purpose behind it illogical & sadistic - not Revenant's neck of the woods whatsoever. Yes, in some cases, he had to get physical with his captive (though he tried not to), and would always win these fights, regardless. After all, he had etorphine & ketamine on his side (along with a whole box of colourful sedatives & medicines), and they had they're own body power - which was generally far less than his.

It was not that he was vain, or arrogant. Nor was he confident of victory all the time. He was not in control for most of the roller coaster ride that was the captive's mind process. But he was assured, that given the right circumstance, he could always overpower who he was trying to. This girl looked almost half of his body weight, with none of the raw power he possessed (and none of the added power given by his shifted form). Nor did she have the advantage of not only possessing the power of an animal, but she lacked the transformation into one, leaving her defenceless against his animal form.

Though, was it really his 'shifted' form? Was he a human that turned into an animal? Or an animal that had somehow possessed the ability to turn into a human? Was each form a separate soul of his, or was it one combined blend of human darkness, and animal darkness? Maybe it was just a stray gene - one of the pieces of 'junk' DNA that made up for apparently 98% of human's genetic code. Maybe it was that he accessed the other 90% of the brain that humans could not. Maybe shifters were magic...but that was ridiculous. It had to be scientific. Magic just didn't exist these days. The ways of science, and provable concepts ruled supreme in this world.

Shaking his head to dispel the thoughts, Revenant brought himself back to the present. A plate lay broken in two in his hands, and with a curse he threw it into the open bin which lay across the room. Perfect aim was shown by a satisfying 'thunk', as always. As he turned, pulling out the plug of the sink, he turned. He wondered if she'd found his clothes yet. Hopefully, she wouldn't freeze in what he had. As Revenant ran at a higher body temperature than humans, he needed less clothing. Which sucked for her, obviously. And so, he turned, walked past his room, where he heard the rustling of fabric, but did not pause as he walked to the sofa once more. He had willpower, if nothing else. And so, he waited. But she was already there

~~~

"Jesus!", he said, near jumping out of her skin as he saw her on the sofa, "What the hell?" His eyes had flickered the exact colour of his other form's eyes. Actually, his the entirety of both of his eyes had flickered to the eyes of his animal form as he saw her there. The Switch always happened when he was shocked. When he was younger, they called it alien eyes, but that was the colloquial name for it. Roughly fifty percent of all shifters had The Switch. These were the pure blooded shifters. If you didn't have it - it meant your blood was diluted somewhere down the line. A slightly twinge in Revenant's temple informed him of it, and he cussed.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you if you saw..." He pulled a slightly face as he gestured to his eyes, before slumping on the sofa next to the girl. For a kidnapper, he was very cavalier about how his behaviour was with his captives. He ended up entirely informal with them - just as he was beginning to become with her. He glanced over, to see how she had taken The Switch, and also took in what she was wearing - purely for practical purposes, he told himself.

The gold & blue plaid shirt. It was just long enough, but still too short for his liking (and possibly his self control). He nodded & looked away slowly, before getting up & pulling his jacket off the back of one of the armchairs around him.

"Here, it's not too warm where we are. You probably need this until I start the fire."

He offered the jacket to her, holding it out, and hoping she'd take it. It was thick, leather, and warm - the main perquisite of his as he held it out. It was a peace offering, if nothing else.