Stryph

St. Martial 02:00a.m.

It was dark, the powering rain beat on the glass windows of his apartment's balcony. There sat, slouching in a comfort chair, Matt quiet and staring out at the dreary environment on the other end. Olive green eyes masked by a pair of black shades, a thick glass full of white chardonnay hung idly under the grip of his right hand's fingertips. Insomnia continued to do a number on his natural physique. For a man well built, ex-military, his body was undergoing the pressure of the recent series of events that haunted his sleepless nights. Growing a bit pale, Matt had no real joy left and didn't fancy going out to get a tan.

"I thought... ahhh, if I could just close my eyes." He sighed.

He couldn't sleep, images of a past blurred and distorted haunted his mind. These images begged him to remember but as the days passed, remembering felt that much harder. But his bed was occupied, some woman he didn't know. Some random brunette down in the bar who had one too many drinks herself to really take the time to really get to know him. As a man who delved in basic needs, he couldn't help himself. One thing always lead to another and in rethinking the whole night's events in playback, he couldn't help but sigh deeply. There was no going back to bed now.

Every time he tried to move on, he knew it was never the same. A shadow plagued his mind, a mere blurred image of what once was a living and breathing person coupled with a growth off to it's lower side. Matt let his eyes close, his brows twitched and winkled as he squinted in thought; a deep exhale exited his nostrils. There he could see himself surrounded by two shadow masses, like a family portrait but the images were all faded out or blank. Still, he could hear the voices perfectly clear.

'Honey? Your tossing.' The woman with no face said, a black mass seemingly hovering over him, the tilt of it's head indicated gentle intentions despite how daunting the lack of appearance was.

Matt opened his eyes and glared, a cool sensation ran down his arms and traveled along the surface of his hand until fully encompassing his hands and arms down to the finger tips. His flesh felt fully cut off but at the same time a thick and tight material masked the contour of his extremities. Looking over and down he could see that familiar metallic substance covering what used to be flesh and bone. It was monochrome at first but slowly began to gain structure, new colors fading into view; back and dull blue.

His train of thought was interrupted by a metallic voice, something he heard just the other day. "Target sighted: Wolf. Acquiring directive /: You are trespassing on private property. The punishment is death. Initiate Malta Operating Protocol." The moment he closed his eyes for but a brief second, his focus became illuminated by a bright shinning red light that swayed from side to side.

Lifting his left hand he rubbed lightly at his temples, the cold nano-tech metalloid substance brushes against his forehead; cool to the touch. 'I used to want them to forget about me...' Thought Matt, his breathing became heavy. Anxiety. His lungs felt tight, his breaths grew deeper feeling as though something was crushing his chest. Simultaneously the metallic liquid washed over him to his neck. The substance seemingly took a mind of it's own tightening, forming muscle groups and flexing with every thought of his mind. A faint red glow coursed through his abdomen, biceps, and forearms the cloth of his robe kept most of it well concealed. The glass in his hand was nearly empty, it cracked under the pressure of a growing grip until he regained conscious control and let the glass glow which proceeded to fall helplessly to the floor and spill what was left on a manila carpet.

Moments passed and suddenly the panic attack subsided. Matt's breathing slowed down and almost on mental-command the liquid material began to recede, restoring himself back to his natural state; at least as far as any eye could tell without disrobing him. Moving to clasp his hands together, Matt leaned forward in his seat and peered out. Beneath that stone cold gaze, there was precision; a waypoint somewhere out there in the urban streets of St. Martial's casino strip.

"There's no going back now." Matt said softly aloud to himself, figuring his 'guest' was passed out cold and especially this late. "I'll tare them apart... piece by effing piece." Lowering his voice, Matt drew out a soft growl of a breath. Lightning crackled, the windows even shook in response. They rattled but slowly came to a subtle stillness. The rain, thunder, and lightening all managed to set him at ease; it kept him focused and set the whirlwind raging in his head at ease. For some reason, the dark dreary and violent nights helped calm him.


((so basically he's a mercenary, sorry I'd type up more but worried I'd stretch it out too thin. Pretty self explanatory, he used to be married and was a father; but they died in an accident that was conducted by Malta on purpose... of course. His nano-tech suit is an odd setup of nanites that literally materialize on thought-command while wearing a seemingly unnoticeable breastplate that acts as the refinery. He dawns a complete cybernetic outfit which pretty much amplifies his athletics. Kind of like Crysis's nanosuit meeting T1000.

He lives a very secluded and hidden life, not the kind of guy to blabber on about his troubles in a public area. He's more likely to pass his stress off as something "business" related without going deep into detail.

And of course his "sleeping" habits... they're a result of psychological masochism, which I kind of made it up myself. Part of him knows he can't bring his wife and child back but he can't seem to "move on" so to speak. It causes conflict, and funny thing that about insomnia, it only happens when he heads to bed with someone. He can't sleep because he's uncomfortable knowing the "lucky" lady isn't his wife. Otherwise he'll sleep but of course suffers chronic flashbacks and memories in the form of nightmares.


So all blabbing aside, hope ya'll enjoyed.))

-drools- Lung protectors, hot-hiya

Eh unfortunately that wont stop judgmental people from being... well, judgmental. Some folks you just can't change their mind even if your toon's existence depended on it, that's just who how they are.

It is unfortunate that many can ruin the novelty for a whole lot more, you can't even really be a werewolf in any game or site anymore without someone pointing a finger and calling you a "furry".



As for WoD folks, only people I see complaining about WoD characters are elitists. Really for me, I don't care. A vampire is a vampire, as long as you don't sparkle, that's all I ask. Please do not sparkle!

I like this one. It's... got a hint of naughtiness yet at the same time complete innocence. Like she just won a poker game and used that expression as her bluff.

Yes... nakked! ch'ch'ch' -ducks-

((that's what had me stumped, saving haunted houses and the typical dark, gloomy, and furious villains for Halloween. :3))

Noop not enough skin, I want something that has me drooling when I'm being seduced by the darkside

"Feeed me." It hissed in a whisper, it's elongated and disproportionate jaw lowered to bare long white tipped teeth where as towards the gums it was yellow. It's eyes were soulless, bottomless black pits and much larger than that of a normal human being. Despite it's hight, the creature was unnaturally skinny and even boney, it's rib cage was easy to count the ribs from due to just how tightly it's skin sunk into every crevice in it's chest cavity.

The creature screamed, "I shall feast on your flesh!" And swiped a bony right claw out towards the man, the bundle of animal cloth was struck down and and shredded with three finely stretched tares. And then it fell lifelessly to the ground in a light pile.

A loud feminine voice pierced the silence, the trees shook with defiance. "Brother! I sentence you, here and now!" When the creature screamed in retaliation the young tribeswoman jumped forth and hurled a long tribal spear decorated with runes that glowed vibrantly. Screaming again, the creature found the spear planted directly into it's stomach with flames that began to bellow out from the punctured wound, falling back and scrambling through the dirt. Finally the creature wrenched the weapon from it's body and tossed it, now glaring at the woman with the desire for slaughter.

'I missed. No...' She panicked.

It charged, literally bursting into mass of snow that dissipated only to rush forward and reform directly in front of and over her. She was terrified, on the cusp of death as he looked up and saw her would-be murderer. There she too caught the glimpse of those black eyes, what was once her brother no longer existed and she only saw death. Ironically she felt at ease, that the lives of those who had fallen before this creature were now around her and soon it would claim her as well. With nothing left, she let her eyes draw shut and welcome death, 'So that I too maybe at peace, kill me brother.'

"Hey..." Spoke a solid voice amongst the looming silence. The creature stopped immediately only to find a large black tip weighted handgun balancing fiercely inches away from it's face. "Hands off the lady." Muttered the voice in addition to following up by a loud bang. The handgun flared a bright brilliant light in the darkness of night and barked a loud cry.

The young woman took a moment to open her eyes, the foreign voice instilled her with a sense of warmth despite the cold temperature. She felt confident now, determined. And when her eyes opened there she first caught sight of red fabric waving out in front of her, like the cloth of a seasoned Spanish bullfighter; it protected her. It was then she rose her eyes up in confidence to look to her savior and she spotted then the white hair and those oddly silver eyes.

There was ironically a long pause until she spoke in an angry tone, "You?! The outsider from the village!"

"Hm?" Grunted the man, "'You' isn't my name. Thanks for asking," Grumbled the man letting his arm rest to his side, "My name is Seraph, what a way to thank the guy that just saved your ***, jeesh."

"This is my fight 'outsider'." She growled, the nickname had a hint of spite tied to it as if she were criticizing the man.

"Really? How'd that turn out." Replied Seraph, catching the loud cry of the wounded creature now rearing for another go. Long back hairs reached out like tendrils and flicked from side to side with the addition of grotesque horns that pierced from the back of it's head as it grew angry and ever so more starving. "Oh right..." Seraph whisked his free hand down bellow his right arm pit and instantly withdrew a matching handgun that immediately bucked at the squeeze of the trigger.

The shot landed and the creature erupted into a controlled demolition of snow, the wind carried it off and Seraph dropped both hands to his sides looking around.

"Well, now he's faster. Hm, test 1 complete."

"You fool, the Wendigo is immortal, it doesn't die through natural weaponry. You guns and your sword," Which she gestured to presence of a hilt sticking out from behind his right shoulder, "Is no match for him."

"You mean it."

"He's my brother!"

"Correction. Was, whatever your brother did he's gone now. I'm sorry for the loss madam..."

"Dansha, and my brother is still in there I know it."

Seraph rolled his head around and bounced it from side to side, "Yada yada, look I don't mean to be the barer of bad news here but that creature just tried to kill you and honestly it was this close to getting that job done quite well." Holding up his right pistol, he brandished the modified USP Match 15 by simply directing it's barrel strait up and pulling his arm back by bending the elbow. "Yeah, he was in there at one point in time."

"I know he still is."

"Fat chance, 'damsel'. This isn't a Disney inspired Fairy Tale, this is the real thing. **** happens, make due with what you can. Consider vengeance now, remorse later." Seraph looked off into the distance directing her attention slowly over to the glowing aura in the distance.

"My fathers spear... I need to get to it." Dansha made a mad sprint to her fallen weapon, Seraph stood by watching her run, she didn't care to look back for a second opinion despite catching the feint hint of a sigh.

Just as she reached her weapon, the creature was looming over her ready for a second try. But it was then that it's eyes widened, the evidence of the feeling of terror as he looked over and found Seraph standing right beside it and rearing up for a swing. Slicing in a wide arch, a large bladed edge swung into it's chest. There was a pause, Dansha watched in horror and anticipation as she gripped her spear loosely with both hands, watching the scene play out.

The blade didn't slice, for what seemed like a minute pause was only a second. The Wendigo caught a glimpse of the Slayer's eyes, determination was a staple and the resolve of this man. There was no cut, no slash, and in both of their eyes the scene played out in the time lapse of what felt super slow motion. All of that kinetic energy focused on a focal point and spread out vertically and perpendicular to the blade's horizontal alignment. Seraph pivoted and swung the blade like a club more than anything else, continuing in motion until the creature was lifted right off it's feet from the sheer momentum and balance and thrown off into the distance. The blade's handle was switched to his left hand to widen the swinging arch and with a flick of his wrist came back to his side, he gave it a twirl and carried it over in front of him back to his right hand; flicking the blade down to his right side. Snow kicked up in a massive wave spreading out behind him, Dansha instinctively ducked and rose the spear as large quantities of snow were propelled over her.

"You, you are not human." Whispered Dansha more to herself, though Seraph probably heard but he didn't care to reply. It didn't matter to her, slowly she rose to her feet, awaiting to be told to 'Stay down!' in a commanding tone from the man. But there was nothing.

His silver eyes pierced through the distance like daggers of their own directly at the creature now struggling to rise to it's feet; disoriented and estranged from it's normal behavior. As it's head raised up to focus back on Seraph, it's eyes were filled with dread. For there it behold the glimpse of a large black sword the man held in his hand. The hilt was designed into the face of a dragon with red gem-like ethereal crystals that were it's eyes. Each side of the blade had the same face, there was no bottom jaw. The sheer presence of the sword alone filled the Wendigo with fear, for in it's eyes the sword was seemingly alive. Aura was still present surrounding the blade's edges slowly dissipating, it was there the Wendigo felt it's eyes locked with the beast-like sword in Seraph's hand; a staring contest. There was ferocity in the blade, an urge for destruction yet the blade itself wasn't alive at all. Still, the very image was daunting enough. Demonic aura bellowed out from the mouth-like hilt as if it were breathing; sparks here and there indicated the evidence of corruption. Was it at war within it's own self?


"Please, let me... free my brother." Dansha rose slowly back to her feet, twirling the spear until resting it against the back of her left forearm. She could see the sword, it's unearthly appearance was present yet being a normal human she herself couldn't see the aura that slowly dissipated from it.

Seraph slowly turned his head to the side from the corner of his eyes he peered over his left shoulder and stared back at her. The collar of his red coat masked the bottom half of his face, covering most of his nose and lips. Still, Seraph spoke in an ironic calming tone. "I understand." It was then he realized she wasn't trying to bring back her brother at all, she knew what was at stake. He understood why she chose to let the monster take her, an act of sacrifice to free her from the burden of having to kill the very thing that her brother once was.

Nodding once Seraph hoisted the blade up, now seemingly dormant again to the Wendigo, the sword was resting on the back of his neck and the man began to march forward. Dansha remained close behind. The trio, two on one, entered the 'Dance of Death'. Finally after regaining it's senses, the Wendigo roared shaking it's head and whipping it back and forth before setting back ahead. It was focused again now, regaining it's desire and now formed natural instinct. Barring it's fangs again, it's mouth opened much wider this time and snow blew out in a large wave washing over the clearing the three were to engage over.

To Dansha, the Wendigo had nearly vanished with the exception of a silhouette that remained. But she could still hear it's roar and by the sounds of it, it was getting much closer and fast. In almost the time span of three seconds, the presence boomed over head and to their right. Dansha ducked as she could feel the creatures foul breath blowing out against her, it's roar nearly piercing her ears with such volume.

And as soon as the woman dropped to her knees, Seraph spun twirling the sword to switch it back to his left hand which continued to whirl before slicing out. Catching the blade right between the Wendigo's jaws. "Gotch'ya."

"And I... got... you!" The Wendigo rose it's right arm high, claws ejected and it's arm begin to descend in a swift swipe.

"Not so fast, Dansha now!"

In that brief of a moment, the Wendigo lost track of time itself. The woman rolled around and forward, stabbing the runic spear up into the chest cavity of the Wendigo piercing it's chest and it's heart. Stunned it watched Seraph step back and withdraw his blade form it's own set of jaws only to watch Dansha rise up in front of him. "Yes, I too... wish to be free. Sooo... hungry." It muttered.

The woman spun, wrenching the spear from the Wendigo's chest and then continued to three sixty as she leveled the long tipped blade at the end with the Wendigo's head. Just like that, it was over. The head was sliced clean off, ethereal energy resonated from the spear as it collided with the creature's flesh, providing superior cutting power. And just like that Dansha recovered to the spear only to kneel down in her village's practice of silent prayer simultaneously as the Wendigo's head fell back and landed on the snow covered floor beneath their feet. It's arms, ready to continue their motion fell softly to it's side before the remaining carcass keeled over. A moment passed and with a simple gust of wind, the body disintegrated before dying completely down. The night stars shown brightly and all that remained was silence, Dansha herself remained in silent prayer for a good five minutes before feeling the soft texture of a leathered palm and cool finger tips touch her bare shoulder.

"Hey, you ok?" Whispered Seraph in a respecting tone, the woman nodded slightly and as Seraph withdrew his hand, a warm bundle of animal fur that belonged as his original cloak now rested over her. "Lets get you home. Believe me, it doesn't take much for the forest to fill with worse."


((Sorry for the humungo post, and of course I'm no pro which I don't claim to be so there's plenty of errors I'm sure. I'm no professional writer but I hope it was entertaining enough. =/ ))

You mean everywhere, it's not just the gaming industry that gets hit by it. Just ask the folks who "used" to work at Saturn dealerships just before it's final collapse. It's a sucky generation to live in at the moment.