|
Post by Adele Holst on Oct 24, 2007 20:57:15 GMT -5
Laughter came up out of nowhere as Sinclare went on about the full moon, "Yeah," she agreed, looking up into his face, "It's the best time of the month." Adele knew she was right about him now, for the most part. Thanks especially to the letter that man had sent her; but for some reason a shadow of doubt still played her mind. A taxi sat along the side of the road, driver inside, no passengers. "Are we headed for the Inn, now?"
|
|
|
Post by Sinclare Strokes on Oct 25, 2007 1:47:59 GMT -5
Sinclare walked towards the taxi and opend the door for Aldele."The Golden Inn" He said to the driver. The driver took off towards the inn. When the cab stopped he paid the fair and got out. He opend the door and let her out. Together they walked into the inn. "So do you have nightmares?" the bell boy walked up, "Do you need me to carry your bags?" "No thanks." He waved him off."
|
|
|
Post by Adele Holst on Dec 6, 2007 2:45:54 GMT -5
For the ride, Adele kept her hands shoved into the pockets of her hoodie, and looked out the window from under a curtain of blonde hair as they left the wonderful city of Wurzburg. She was certain that the suited man in the cafe was a Lycan, and that gave her a reasonable amount of confidence that Sinclare was of like kin too; but for some reason she couldn't be absolutely sure. With the inheritance passed to her by Perrin Goldeneyes, she should be able to tell Lycan from Human or Vampire at a glance, a sniff even; but she was so unsure of herself, always doubting what she thought to be right. Inside the lobby of the grand, Golden Inn hotel, Adele had to stop for a moment. Since becoming a Lycan, she'd had the privilege of staying in a few very nice mansions. And although this Inn didn't quite meet the standards of Perrin's Villa in Greece, it was still large and luxuriant in its own right; not a place where two grungy looking teenagers would likely be lodging. Adele felt somewhat out of place and didn't think she would ever get used to being around such expensive magnificence. This wasn't her scene, although she had to admit that some of the benefits were very enjoyable. "So do you have nightmares?" Sinclare's question pulled her attention away from the vast lobby, and she looked at him quietly. "Yeah," she answered easily; she would name him Sinclare, King of Random Questions. Although she had thought about it briefly at the cafe, but he wouldn't have known that, right? "Do you?"
|
|
|
Post by Sinclare Strokes on Dec 6, 2007 12:25:58 GMT -5
He walked towards the elevator, "Nightmares would emply that I was afraid. I lost the fear of what was in my dreams long ago." He pushed the button for the elevator. "I don't know your past, but I lost the fear the second time I lost a family. You see the first time I lost a family I didn't really mind, they were not very kind to me. Though I was sad at the loss of my dog, Arrow." The elevator came and he stepped inside. "But the second time I lost a family I was upset to say the least." He let out one of his boyish smiles. "They treated me better in the time I knew them than my first family." The doors opened and he stepped out. He didn't even look to see if she was following him, he was afraid that his face was betraying him, he didn't like being serious, or confiding into people. Getting attached had always left him alone. He knew what she was and he was glad to find someone to confide in. Although he could have almost anything he wanted due to his computer skills he still was alone. "But my dreams seem to reflect reality, and sometimes are just memories. You ever dream where your a beast, great and terrible. Everyone is afraid of you, but your not going to give them any harm. Well thats a lot of what my dreams are. "He got to the door unlocked it and pushed it open and let her in and slid in behind her. He could smell that they were alike, he wasn't always right so he had prodded with questions to see if he was going to make a mistake. But she had handled herself pretty well, too well, at the party. He stepped in and closed the door, and locked it. "Would you believe me if I have killed many people in the past, now don't be afraid. They were all very evil and very much out to get me. In my dreams, and in my waking I am a werewolf." It felt good to tell someone his story, now he hoped he was right in his assumption.
|
|
|
Post by Adele Holst on Dec 7, 2007 3:31:22 GMT -5
The faintest smile shrouded Adele’s face, and she almost wanted to laugh at the thought of Sinclare killing many people. Throughout the night he had been full of jokes, if only light humor; but she did know how one changed under the full moon. Murder seemed inevitable to happen at least once to even the most controlled Human-turned-Lycan. And so her hunch had been correct. The slight awkwardness of this young man whom she’d known at most for only 2 hours, opening up to her, was replaced by the confidence of knowing he was like her. Adele had probably only walked into the hotel room about 10 feet, and hadn’t even looked around yet, but stared at Sinclare, her head slightly c0cked. Usually from hearing Lycans talk about what they were, she could distinguish whether or not they were born Werewolves, or if they’d been bitten into the life, but she received mixed clues from Sinclare. Mentioning the loss of a second family suggested he had once been Human. But the control he implied having as the Wolf made Adele think that maybe he’d always been Lycan, although perhaps a lone Werewolf; and his second family could have been some pack he’d come across. “…Have you always been a Werewolf?” She really didn’t know what else to say; Adele had not come across too many other Lycans after the destruction of the Sweden Den, and all of a sudden tonight there were two others. She was excited, but tried not to show it for fear of ruining relations. Sinclare didn’t really seem like the type to become offended by a cultural misunderstanding. But Adele didn’t know how American Lycans viewed the hierarchy, and maybe their packs settled relations differently than the European Wolves; so she wanted to establish rank, if there was any, before going too much farther.
|
|
|
Post by Sinclare Strokes on Dec 7, 2007 20:37:14 GMT -5
He sighed with relief. She was taking him serious, and that may mean they are the same. He chuckled, "Yeah, I have always been. I was adopted or something because I lived with my first family who never treated me right and I had a brother Julius who was a jock and I was, hell still am, a nerd." He walked over and sat on the bed. "There were some evil werewolves, they called themselves Black Spiral Dancers. Well they tained my brother, killed my parents. Eventually I killed my brother. I found out about a local Carn and joined them. I made some real good friends there. I made some family there, but again the BSDs came through to make sure I was alone." He chuckled. "But yeah, all my life I've been a werewolf, no one bit me. But I never changed till I was sixteen. I was playing hero, got into trouble and it just came out. I've never killed an innocent. BSDs, Vampires, Ratkin, Undead, Humans, I am a monser in every sense of the word. I dont enjoy it.... But I dont want to die. Theres this company called Pentax, oh f**k they are some bad nuts." He chuckled. He felt he was sweating recalling so many memories. They work with alot of everything actually. Oh BSDs also killed my first girlfriend so I'm single" He winked at her and smiled jokingly. "But yeah, I'm a whiz at computers. I havent paid for anything in about 5 years, and I should be in jail." He smiled at her. "But a pretty thing like me wouldn't last long there. So you know my story. Whats yours?" Does she believe me or is she just trying to not make the crazy man angry.. He looked into her eyes. He hoped he hadn't scared her. He got up and went over the the bar. He was impressed at the size of it, this wasn't a minibar, this was a full bar. He grabbed a bottle and a glass. Poured a drink and walked over to her with the glass and handed it to her and he took a drink from the bottle. "Scotch, aged 23 years..." He waited for her to go, either out the door or on with a story...
|
|