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Post by +.Henry.+ on Jan 7, 2008 20:10:11 GMT -5
Time: Late afternoon Moon Phase: Full Moon
Izzy kicked stray cans out of his way as he walked up the sidewalk. Heck, the whole road was practically a sidewalk. People filled them, milling about like ants. But forget the sidewalk. Why were there stray cans littering the road? People should take care of their cans. There were tons of them: soda cans, soup cans, even cans that used to have fruit in them. The world was a terrible place sometimes. People shouldnt litter. People shouldnt leave around stray cans. They should either take care of them or throw them out, where they could go to a better place. Better than this crowded, busy street. Humans. They could even keep a can collection if they wanted. Anything but leaving them out in the road like this. It wasnt right. It wasnt sane. For a few minutes the werewolf mulled it over, wondering why he bothered trying to keep them alive anyway. Not the cans. The humans. Just in case anyone was confused, that is.
Of coarse, relief and reassurance came as the black and white almost fully leather garbed teen looked at all the bright neon lights. The Windex-cleaned glass. The shiny ipods and phones and wonderful human creations sitting behind that glass. All this happiness was created from human mind work. That was one of the reasons, he was sure. Without them, he'd be living in the sticks! Plus, the best part of all, they provided him with coffee. Hazelnut coffee, decaf coffee, dark coffee, coffee that shouldnt even be considered coffee, this bitter stuff that was how coffee first originated but now just isnt bought anymore because of all the different kinds of coffee that acctually have sugar and cream... Endless, countless creations of coffee. All because of them. Yeah, Izzy liked humans. They were interesting. He used to be one, too. The brunette frowned, trying to remember the last time he had been human. Unable to get any clear images in his head, he sighed dejectedly, finally breaking from his deep thoughts.
Next to him walked a teenage girl with creamy blonde hair and huge brown eyes. A pretty teenage girl. And she wasnt just a girl, she was a werewolf too. Ismirshalen glanced over at his Pretty Waitress, smiling wryly to himself. Every few moments she would stop to stare at some almost blinding neon sign, commenting on how interesting it was, or saying it was too depressing. Anything that was on her mind. The blue eyed teen had asked her to become his beta, or Pretty Waitress, as he called her. Of coarse, being that she had practically lived in a hospital with no one to talk to but herself, she quickly accepted the offer. Then they had escaped from the place, Izzy suffering from a buttload of morphine, lightheaded giddiness, and a tightly wrapped right hand. Not to mention his burned stomach and the cut on his cheek. Luckily, Mable hadnt suffered anything except for ending up with him in the first place. But it wasnt exactally suffering, I guess.
Finally the black wispy haired Izzy stopped in front of a shop, squinting up at it's blinding sign. It appeared to be a clothes store, what he couldnt read on the sign was clearly answered by what was inside. Clothes.
"This look like a good place?" he asked Mable, of coarse not waiting for an answer. Instead, he walked right on in, his feet practically gliding through the entrance and over the tiled floor. He had tugged his black sleeveless T-shirt down over his pants, which were soaked in blood. Not from anything you would instantly think. His right hand, which he had shoved into his pocket, was the real culprit. "So, want to help me pick out a pair of new pants?"
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Post by Failure on Jan 7, 2008 20:27:38 GMT -5
Mable of course was easily destracted in a large city with all these wounders and different things. She could have given herself a hernia from dashing to veiw different signs, stare at the models on the boards and eat random bits of food on the ground. She apparently hadn't been out of the hospital for so long that she encouraged the raging germs and her body screamed for ecoli and such harmful things; or maybe it was because she just wanted to get the strange death-like smell of hospital off of her clothes and her shiney dark blonde hair that gleamed platinum and cream in the lowering sun. She couldn't wait to be away from all these people though, and be alone with a /real/life/werewolf/. She had to admit the pants were exciting though, and maybe if she was lucky she could find a shirt for him too. She loved dressing up people, but kept to herself that she was going to force clothes on Izzy, let 'em wait. Although she was clearly excited and overwelmed she had this nagging feeling that she forgot something, like something she did daily, she had to let that pass though because Izzy would most likly torture her with his charming look. Mostly all she saw though was him kicking cans and staring off at coffee. "Men..." Mable mumbled. And like an answer from her utterance Izzy strutted into the store with his bloody gait and asked her the question of his certain demise [XD]. "So, want to help me pick out a pair of new pants?" Mable busted a deamonicly sweet smile that clearly meant yes. NEVER... ask Mable to help you pick out clothes. /Especially/ if you're a hot guy.
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Post by +.Henry.+ on Jan 7, 2008 20:45:22 GMT -5
Izzy looked back at Mable in time to see her smile a wide, sweet smile, which gave him an answer as clear as the blood on his pants. Of coarse she wanted to. Unfortunately, the 'hot guy' did not see the underlying promise hidden beneath that pretty mask. No, not Izzy, leader of the Dawn. The werewolf that started a whole war. Nope, I dont even think Einstien could have seen what was coming. So he smiled back, imagined the relief he would feel at getting some clothes that werent soaked in his own bodily fluids.
"Okay then," he answered, turning back to face the vast store. "What looks like a good isle..." he muttered, half to himself and half to Mable. The brunette started off in the direction of an area that had a sign saying "Teens!" on it. "You know," he started conversationaly, pondering something with interest. "I havnt moved out of the teens section in over a hundred years. Makes me wonder if I'll ever spark up the interest to buy something formal.. Like a tie." He blinked. "Do they have ties that arent formal? I havent been clothes shopping in over twenty years." He looked at one of the racks. "Um. I think I need help."
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Post by Failure on Jan 9, 2008 17:08:36 GMT -5
"YES YOU DO NEED HELP!" Mable screeched, walking/stomping powerfully past him and grabbing with a steady hand onto the the top hem of his bloody pants, leading him into his isle of certain doom and horrible memories. This isle, my friend, was a very... interesting one... it was one of ties. Ties I say! TIES. It was dizzying. Quite. Old people ties, junior ties, middle aged crisis ties, sexy ties, crusty ties, kid's ties, and don't forget the famous scented and flavored ties. But what is this? She stomped right past those ties... Into... beyond...
"HERE WE GO!" She gave off a huge sigh. Looking around the /different/ atmosphere, "Every store always has one! I was getting worried ,though, that this one was broken." She immediately scrambled to a very... intruguing tie, it was pink with yellow poka-dots, "THIS IS PERFECT!" She exclaimed, motioning her hand to the enlongated tie.
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Post by +.Henry.+ on Jan 9, 2008 18:15:19 GMT -5
Izzy was close to tripping several times as Mable suddenly grabbed his pants and dragged him along with her. You know, maybe it hadnt been such a spiffy idea to ask the creamy blonde to help him with shopping for clothes after all. But who else could he ask? He hardly knew what was up with half of this stuff.
They passed by tons of varieties of ties. Thousands, millions of ties must have been on those shelves. The ages old werewolf didnt know what to make of it, it was so overwhelming. How had those humans gone and created so much right under his nose without him knowing?! Well, considering he hadnt gone anywhere but those coffee shops and the hotels he stayed at when he could cough up enough cash... Yeah, that explained it all right. But instead of Mable picking out one of the ties that were out in the open, she went and pulled out a pink one with yellow poka dots. Izzy stared at it stupidly.
"It's, erm.. It's fantastic," he gulped, trying to be as convincing as possible, even though Mable would have believed him if he was sobbing his heart out while saying so. With fingers that screamed for him to put it back, the teen picked it up and tried it on. "What next?" he asked with growing terror.
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Post by Failure on Jan 9, 2008 18:26:23 GMT -5
Mable ignored his visible frightened visage. "IT'S SO CUTE ON YOU!" She yelled, tossing him a pink /and purple one, a unicorn one and not to mention a harley leather one. She stopped throwing the random ties at him and hesitated to pick up a long tie ment for someone tall that was baby blue with a multitude of tiny coffee cups with a thin grey waft of smoke floating up from them. She continued staring, almost glaring at it. Will I regret this? she thought and mumbled at the same time, she turned around grabbing a pair of tight leather pants and a grey vest/shirt with pink pin stripes. Mable manged to throw the new pile on top of the manifesting other pile, along with a pink thong, for him or her?
Maybe we'll never know.
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Post by +.Henry.+ on Jan 9, 2008 18:55:15 GMT -5
Izzy forced a smile, trying to keep his lips from twitching and then mudsliding back into that terrified frown. Fortunately he managed to convince her, or maybe she was just sidestepping the obvious signs that a blind guy should be able to see through, for she turned back to the shelves and started rummaging around for more ties, filling up the pile like a cook stacking pancakes. Oh jeez. Pink, purple, a sickeningly bright yellow too. The brunette didnt even want to peek down to see what was accumulating in his arms.
Suddenly the projectiles stopped their flinging weight adding action, and Izzy finally decided to pay attention to what was going on. Mable seemed to be crouched over something, a tie, obviously, and was muttering to herself. It sounded something along the lines of 'Will I regret this?' Regret what? Buying all those ties? Hardly, he was sure. Had to be something else.... The tall teen leaned over Mable's shoulder, then let out a gasp. It was a tie! But not like any other of the ties the Pretty Waitress had scrounged up. No, this tie was a soft baby blue, decorated with pure joy and love-- coffee mugs! Though he wanted to burst out into a ton of thanks, the brunette decided to save it for later, when he could acctually put it on. So Izzy stood silently, his head up in clouds as the blonde added leather pants and a gray vest-like shirt with pink to the pile. At the pink thong, however, he was jerked out of his little fantasies.
"Is that for you?" he asked, smiling wryly. A mischevious aura was hinted in the smile. "Why, Pretty Waitress, why dont you try it on for me?"
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Post by Failure on Jan 9, 2008 19:53:52 GMT -5
Mable giggled at the silly comment he gave to her. "Well, they /were/ supost to be for you!" She started cracking up. "But if you want to prove something you can put them on," She almost doubled over, "Also, if you want me to put it on, you have to apply the leather pants," Then a sick little thought teased her mind. "how about we make a game. You put on a certain number of clothes and I'll put on the same amount!"She had to stop for breath. "As in the less or more you wear, vice versa." She had to stop there. The game was genious. She let out a devious snicker. "What do you say, Chalky?"
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Post by +.Henry.+ on Jan 9, 2008 20:02:47 GMT -5
Izzy's smile grew dangerously wider and more crooked as Mable talked about her game, thouroughly interested in the idea. Of coarse. It was brilliant. Genious. Perfect. He plucked a jacket and a scarf off of one of the racks, though those were things he didnt plan on buying. They were just for the game.
"I say bring it on, Pretty Waitress!" Izzy snickered back, already turning around to pull off his bloody pants and pull up the new pair. They fit great, and he heaved a sigh of pleasure. Finally something that wasnt soaking wet. After this he pulled his old shirt off and the new vest-like one on, then pulled on another shirt off a rack, then on the jacket. Then the scarf, keeping on the tie he already wore. The teen stood there for a moment, thinking of something else. Oh. He grabbed a pair of gloves, stuffing them on. His genious plan was to start with a lot and lessen down as they went. Oh, this would be great. Not to mention he was wearing his hat and boots. Oh. And boxers.
"10 things, m'lady!" he said, smiling smugly.
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Post by Failure on Jan 9, 2008 20:10:24 GMT -5
Mable was a very competative and daring person by nature, this wouldn't be hard. She peeked over the maniquin that was seperating them and tittered. "You look like an eskimo! I bet if I just left you like that you'd pass out and I'd win!" Of course there was no fun in that, SO, she pulled on some fitted sliced up to the knee goldeny glittered jeans and a short white tee with a yellow dinosaur on it, (purposely 'forgetting' the bra and underwear.) she put some high-heeled bulky black short boots to finnish the look. "Three!" She chuckled, woundering if he would figure out why she said three instead of five. She remembered to bust a pose. Comando was nessesary.
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Post by +.Henry.+ on Jan 9, 2008 20:17:34 GMT -5
Three. That meant he had to put on two. Boy, she was fast. Which was kind of a good thing, because he was getting unbearably itchy. And hot and sweaty. Unable to stand it anymore, the teen took off his hat, the jacket, and the shirt under the jacket and tossed it back into the racks. Then he took off his boots and gloves. The boots were his own, so he only tossed away the gloves. Then he went to slide off his pants, revealing brown boxers with pink ducks on them. He rolled up the pants, adding them to the pile of his clothes and the clothes he was buying in the corner. Now he only had on his shirt and his boxers.
"Two!" he said, a pleasant look on his face. he hoped she'd take off the shirt.
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Post by Failure on Jan 9, 2008 20:23:07 GMT -5
"Oh you're such a tough cookie," She said in a mocking voice, walking out from behind the maniquin with a very short kimono on (Just making it past the woo-hoo), busting yet anougher presumpuous move on him. Look who has da' upper hand now "One," She wispered smoothly," Putting her arms around his tall neck and leaning forward.
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Post by +.Henry.+ on Jan 9, 2008 20:31:58 GMT -5
Izzy almost choked on his tounge as she walked out in the kimono, beating him once again. Such a smooth move, and he completely missed it coming. His pale face flushed red as she wrapped her arms around his neck. The werewolf gently slid off his shirt so that she wouldnt be disturbed [dont ask how] and then wrapped his arms around her waist. A smile tickled the edges of his lips, and he leaned in to press them against her jaw, moving them up and down it. He could either go with a tie, or he could take off his boxers, therefore winning. The choice was an easy one to make, what with the fact that he was competetive by nature and also wanted to himself. So without a second thought, he slid them off, wrapped his arms tighter around Mable, and then locked his lips with hers.
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Post by Failure on Jan 9, 2008 20:46:31 GMT -5
At the kiss Mable suddenly jerked back but it wasn't because of him, it was her, she felt the sudden headache he usually got, actually more like a migrain on steriods, and wobbled down to the floor in a shaky heap, wishing this wasn't happening. She lent forward and leaned her head on his legs and managed a dry wisper of "Please... Run for your life..." She managed to reach her hand into her discarded skirt and take out one of the many familiar drugs, this one was adrinaline and the other was a knock-out drug, proboally much too small for a werewolf. Hopefully the dumbarse would use the right things on which what. She managed a sad smile before the discusting (In her opinion) and slightly painful mutation began, she also managed to toss the useful drugs to him, more like roll. It was a fast job, she seemed to almost have the awesome creature burst out from her, but it wasn't quite that because of the split moment before, the shivering Mable had a almost transluant layer of fur slide over her like a sheild. Why did this-blood have to -blood-happen-blood- to -blood-me...? She thought, of course the monster interupting her, it felt like rape because she was trapped and the creature was doing all of these weird things. Nope, -FOOD- I'm sure being raped (Izzy) would even be a bit more nice.
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Post by +.Henry.+ on Jan 10, 2008 18:45:26 GMT -5
Izzy pulled his lips away from Mable, shocked, as she slid to the floor. Thoughts instantly rushed to his mind as he stared down. The first were of how stupid he had been. High off of the morphine, he had went and stripped his clothes off in the middle of a clothes store isle. What if someone had seen? Of coarse Mable had gone on with it, but he should have had more control over himself. Not to mention, now the pretty blonde was leaning on his leg and moaning something along the lines of 'run for your life'. Great. At first he had thought he had just been a terrible kisser, and while that was pretty bad, even that was better than what was acctually going on. The Pretty Waitress was transforming. It was the full moon. Crap. He should have known something like this would happen. He shouldnt have taken so much morphine. Acctually, now that he was paying more attention to things, he noticed that the pain in his hand was starting to come back. Oh, geez. He had to do something, and fast.
On the floor in front of him, Mable had tossed a pair of syringes at him. Izzy caught them easily-- werewolf reflexes were always good to have-- and glanced over the labels quickly. One said 'Adrenaline' and the other said some big long word that had been crossed out and replaced with the words 'Knock-out'. The teen's slowly sputtering back to life mind was able to process what she meant them for easily enough. While she was transforming-- the cracks and snaps of spine and other bones were sickening, especially if you werent the one enduring them-- he managed to pull back up his boxers, new leather pants, throw on that gray vest, stick on his top hat, stuff all the ties but the coffee one into a sack he wore, and put the coffee one on himself. He had the ability to transform with clothes and accessories on, usually they melted right into his skin. It was a power most werewolves had, except the occasional Moonblind that hadnt managed to learn it yet. He took Mable's clothes off the floor and stuffed them in along with his in case she couldnt. Which was kind of answered for him-- he heard the tearing of the kimono as clear as day. Well, now he had a mad wolf to stop.
Ismirshalen dropped the two syringes on the ground at his feet, not wanting to accidentally stab them into himself or something while he transformed himself. He personally hated morphing. The brunette disliked his were-form with an unusual hatred, never transforming at all-- except on waxing cresent nights. Even then, he would try drinking potions he would buy from magic lore shops. Of coarse they were usually always fake, just things to entertain children or people who acctually believed in that stuff. Unfortunately, no one had ever bothered to think of making something that acctually worked. Maybe he would sometime. But now he had to, he'd never be able to stop Mable in his current state. Even with his werewolf scent she would most likely confuse him for just another human. In the same form as her he would have a better chance. Lead her off to the park or something, where he might convince her to chow down on rabbits or squirrels. Hopefully not a human.
Izzy looked left and right down the isle, making sure no one was watching. Not that it mattered, Mable was already halfway through transforming, her eyes a milky white like the moon and her face elongating into a muzzle. That was the most painful part. Unable to draw it out any longer, the teen finally started changing. His clear blue eyes instantly turned an icy blue instead, making him look kind of terrifying in a way. Black fur sprouted out along his body like a forest fire, and his limbs automatically started lengthening, nails growing into claws and his feet turning to paws. His hands still resembled hands, though tough pink pads grew along the palms and parts of the fingers and thumbs. A tail sprouted from his behind, along with ears from his head and his hair lengthened to a mane to about the middle of his back. His spine snapped, making him have to bend over slightly and grimace in pain. That was the bad thing about being able to control yourself. You couldnt just wake up and not remember the it. The worse part was the muzzle; tears practically started forming in his eyes as it formed, his teeth sharpening into fangs. Finally, though, it was over, the transformation complete in a matter of seconds.
His build was slender and sleek, limbs longer than natural for a were, making it easy for an enemy to underestimate his strength. But he was far stronger than he looked, and he had a special skill none other did: he could run as fast as lightning, making it almost impossible to get a good shot at him or dodge his attacks. Izzy wasnt looking to fight, however, and turned his icy blue eyes to look at Mable. She had completed transformation. And she looked hungry.
"Follow me," Izzy commanded in lycan language. That was the thing- werewolves had their own tounge that they communicated with in were-form. Moonblinds knew it too, but usually all they had to say was 'blood' or 'kill', what with their screwed up minds. Controlled weres could also speak human language if they practiced, but it took a while. Usually, a controlled were could get a moonblind to listen to them. Usually. Izzy wasnt going to let her kill. He couldnt. "Come on, Mable," he growled. "I know you're in there!" He waited, wary in case she paid him no heed and started off after the many humans that had to be in here. That was likely. Very.
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