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Post by Henrik Kol Mikhaelson on Nov 18, 2012 19:34:12 GMT -8
There was a school he heard of. A school that was quite prestigious and also had the capacity to hold more than just the average student. A school that had a history and record of a generation ago and this same possible history and record had been upheld by a second generation. He knew because he was there. He'd always been there, seeking a higher power, seeking fresh blood and seeking a greater death. Not for himself, but someone else. He lurked within the shadows, was seen where no one would look, remained stealth and covert and simply observing what no one seemed to think to hide. He knew about it all. About the four original 'Boys of Ipswich,' the grand and final showdown between Caleb Danvers and Chase Collins, whose fate was never truly concluded except that he never resurfaced again.
Now in this time and age, a new evil would be awakened, perhaps multiple evils. This evil was strong, powerful, with an insatiable third for blood and a weakness for cute girls with a throbbing vein just waiting for him to lick, taunt, bite and drain.
Henrik was an odd fellow. On the outside was the handsome and boyish charm of a young lad in his senior year while on the inside, something more lurked. Something truly wicked this way comes, indeed. The saying had never been lost on him. It's not like he classified himself as the utter and epitome or personification of 'something wicked' but he was not a gentle being either. He was aggressive and there was always more that met the eye with this young fellow. He wasn't ordinary, he was far from it, being quite extraordinary. He was capable of great things, evil, but great indeed as far as how massive of things he could produce in mayhem and what would be left in the wake. It satisfied him greatly and knowing that things were in a great destruction was what made him happy, especially if it meant that he acquired what he had wanted and he always got what he wanted.
There were two new girls who were descendants of the original four. They weren't new-new because he knew that they had been at that school since the very start that they could be admitted into it but he'd always been watching them, waiting for the perfect opportunity.
He was the very threat that parents warned their children about without actually knowing. He was the monster that lurked in the shadows, waiting patiently with much hunger and blood lust for his perfect opportunity to strike. Alas, the time had finally arrived and there was no going back now. This he was most satisfied with.
Henrik arrived at that school with a large duffel in his hands at his side. It was so clearly heavy and bulky, like he stuffed everything he could have ever possibly owned into it but he held it like it weighed nothing, like it was a feather. He was dressed in a sharp and crisp charcoal black dress shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and the first three buttons undone. Complimentary with that, he wore a blood red tie around his neck, loosened of course and black straight jeans that were snug but not in an 'unflattering' way. He wore this look well and he looked quite dashing.
After dropping his duffel in his dorm, his roommate having not yet arrived, he went about roaming the grounds. He knew their scent well. It was very distinct, very special and it's what brought him to them in the first place. If anything though, he had perfected how to appear like a normal student. He had perfected that certain look he'd give a girl to make her swoon. He had perfected how to charm a girl naturally and lure her away without a second thought, doubt or inhibition. He knew how to be a normal guy who liked girls. He's had years to get it down. Perhaps he was a ladies man. If that was true, sue him. So he liked girls. Big deal. They tasted better than a common rabbit and tasted far better than a male. What could he do? He was who he was. He wouldn't be anything else.
He found their scent. He was hooked.
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Post by Jacov Merek on Nov 19, 2012 22:09:33 GMT -8
Jacov poked around the school, he had almost been drawn here since he first reached the America’s but let himself explore the new country before he went to his calling. It seemed this Ipswich place was crawling with energy. He took in a deep breath taking in the scents of different people and the environment around him. The atmosphere was certainly different than Europe everyone seemed more closed. Europeans to say the least wanted to try everything and he wanted to try them all. And of course he did, letting himself roam around as a wolf through the most wooded areas. Meeting humans, vampires, others like himself and other different species. Why he was being called to this little ugly town he had no idea. He certainly couldn’t go on a wolf spree, this town was much to small and he figured that everyone knew everyone here. Which means one step out of line and he could have someone hunting him. He planning to enjoy his stay here and not let that stop him but being more on the cautious side for sure. His ears picking up the laughter of the female and male species alike all around the school.
As he walked around the school he toured the building since it was his first day here. Going from the library to the dorms that were less than private in his opinion. His family had spread out among the states and some scattered through Europe. Jacov’s mother was less than thrilled when he ventured off by himself but there was nothing she could do. They were one of the original bloodlines of Werewolves so he was moderately faster and stronger than the average wolf whose blood had been tainted. Having a sense of pride that he was so pure and strong Jacov wasn’t afraid of anything really unless it was one of his older brothers. His father had long since past, a hunter had caught up with him and murdered him. Although he just blamed his father for being careless, always wanting more blood on his hands than he could handle. The wolf shook his head making his way to the grounds his phone vibrating in his pocket. Taking it out he carefully looked at the phone, his eldest brother was calling probably to check up on the younger wolf. But he just let it ring, right now he was getting his bearing’s and couldn’t be bothered. Shoving the contraption back in his pocket he let his gaze settle over the grounds.
Eyes being heightened he took a look over the grounds being very predatory. Seeing people and things that most humans and the supernatural alike wouldn’t see. If he had a tail at the moment it would be wagging with glee, to others it would seem like destruction. But to Jacov is was how he was raised that he was noble and to take what was his and not ask questions. Maybe it wasn’t the best way to be raised but that’s how the young man of Great Britain learned to be a wolf. Prowling around he saw many delectable items that were now on his new menu. As he passed one man he had a different smell. He had met vampires before and the wind in the air smelled of it. It was disgusting and foul warning the wolf that he was nothing something to eat. Back tracking for a moment, he stood awkwardly to the side acting like a creeper. He couldn’t help but want to know what the vampire was doing here in Ipswich. Not that they weren’t allowed or he was the vampire police it just seemed odd. Usually you wouldn’t see a vampire and werewolf in the same place. Some times they really just didn’t get along, although Jacov didn’t have any crazy grudges against them. He knew some werewolves that would try and rip vampires to pieces. Due to them harming family members or ones that they love, then again he was sure that if a vampire tired to come after his family he would do that same thing.
Curiosity took over the young lad and he couldn’t keep quiet any longer so he made an approach. “I don’ think we’ve met before mate. Are you new to Spencer’s Academy?” Letting his English accent fully be heard, not being ashamed of his heritage or scared of this vampire. Jacov might have only not been scared because he thought so high of his own bloodline or possibly didn’t have the coward gene. Then again the boy was quite a bit younger and might have just been a bit too naïve. Yet here he was chatting it up with a vampire who could have been thousands of years old and could try and kill him in an instant. It would have been a welcomed fight but the Wolf didn’t want to start out at a new school with a record of fighting. So if things could be discussed civilly that's the way he would want it to happen. [/blockquote]
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Post by Henrik Kol Mikhaelson on Nov 21, 2012 23:08:31 GMT -8
There was this faint scent that he could not place. For a moment, it made his insides churn and his entire appetite that seemed to heighten wondrously at the scent of such fair girls who were ripe with youth and sweet scented blood, disappeared. A grimace came onto his face though he did his best to hide it, especially as the scent drew nearer. His hands slid into his pockets and he swallowed uncomfortably like he could suddenly keel over and throw up bile and ash mixed together, leaving a displeasing site and an even more displeasing sight.
Henrik tried to regain the scent of those delectable girls, the same girls he knew by scent and not by scent. The same girls he wanted to sniff out and find so he could just see them, get close to them and take part in the glorious sight of maybe catching a glimpse of a pulsing vein or even just the sound of it, either in the neck, the wrist, or the femoral artery, his personal favorite. There was nothing sweeter than drinking directly from the source of a young and warm female body so merrily filled at the mirth with fresh blood for his taking. It was a tease that excited him, which is what fueled his desire for the hunt. The entire enjoyment didn't come just from actually feeding on the youthful and ripe female, watching as the life left her eyes, the color leaving her as he drank the redness away and into his system, fueling him. One life for another. In this case, the lives of innocent and sweet females were meant for him, for him to take pleasure in and to rob of their youth, their life and their blood. Half the fun came from the hunt. Hunting, stalking, capturing and then the final act and final piece of enjoyment, the taking and the killing.
He was pulled out of his reverie when a voice laced with a British accent brought him back into the present, the present in which he wasn't sucking the life out of a girl--literally--and the present that was filled with the staunch scent of a wet dog. Henrik's nose scrunched and he turned slowly to face the offending scent, his distant but amused eyes meeting with the sight of the lad before him. His lips twitched into a small smirk as if he had tried to stifle it momentarily at first before giving in. He nodded his head once, not taking his deep brown eyes from his sight. In fact, he was quite taken back. He didn't look like a wet dog. As his head tilted, he managed to catch sight of his behind and spotted no tail. He just smelled like a wet dog and that was the most displeasing thing.
Still though, he didn't speak. Instead, he looked definitely amused as his head tilted to the other side, staring at him and an enigmatic smile presiding on his face. Finally, after what seemed or felt like it was possibly or quite possibly an eternity--though it was only and really a good few minutes, maybe under ten--the vampire finally spoke. "I am. I am." He followed up finally with his nod, his accent not foreign but just southern, deeply southern like he was a very well polished and cleaned up redneck. Although this was only part his charm. That kind of playful and teasing charm of his. More to be discovered, after all, Henrik was not a normal vampire. Not by a long shot. If he was, he would have publicly ripped this wolf's throat out before he had a chance and simply walked away, licking his fingers of the pungent blood.
"What 'bout you? You don't sound like you're anywhere close to being around here." His accent changed though. It was southern for a moment but now it was Australin. So who was he to talk? It's not a case of being confused of where he was from. No, he knew very well. The thing was no one else knew. He could be who he wanted. He was nomadic after all and that was the real beauty to his life which never led to be mundane but forever interesting. He was a character, that's for sure. A character or ten.
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Post by Jacov Merek on Nov 29, 2012 11:08:44 GMT -8
He noticed the man’s nose sniffing slightly about as if he could also smell him. Thankfully Jacov wasn’t in wolf form so this- well what ever he was couldn’t place him. Humans don’t have crazy smelling sense like most supernatural beings, but this man seemed more than different with out even talking. As Jacov stood there as if he had no idea what was going on with the man he couldn’t help but smile a bit. It was nice to have the upper hand although he was sure this man standing before him wasn’t an idiot, eventually figuring out it was Jacov giving off the strange odor. Thankfully it seemed he had more humor than other vampires he had met before. They were quite testy when they smelled danger, or anything they didn’t like for that matter. Or they would have taken the second option if they were new and would just flee. It was a dog eat dog world out here on supernatural terrain you really don’t know who your allies are. Well of course unless it was your family or person who turned you but most eventually ended splitting up. It’s rare for his species to split up from each other usually wolves travel in packs, but after his fathers unfortunate demise they had no choice. The hunter couldn’t come after them all at once and most likely they would get lost in the world before they decided which wolves they wanted to go for.
It took the man in front of him a good couple of minutes to reply back. Jacov almost thought the man was a mute and someone had cut out his tongue. Wouldn’t that have been an interesting turn of events? As the wolf stood there observing him letting him take his time as he was trying to find words, or possibly trying to make Jacov shuffle on. But Jacov stood stead fast not moving for anything, he could play the waiting game even if it wasn’t his strong suit. Finally after what seemed a good century or two the man spoke up agreeing that he was new here. He hadn’t been here long himself but he would have picked up on the vampire scent as soon as he had arrived. The man in front of him had a southern accent, which sounded like his roots were deep. He had spent a summer down in the Deep South taking in all the different smells, sights and humans on occasion. Although he seems more posh than the men and women he hung out with. His mother was the one who wanted to get to know the elites; to Jacov he did it to stray from his mother’s sight. Being brought up to feel like he was better than others because of how he was born it was hard to put that aside. It had been drilled into his mind more times than he could count. Hoping for a fresh start here, with out his mothers gaze upon him all the time. His older brother told him habits like that were hard to break and that he wouldn’t want to fall from his high horse because it was a long way down.
Jacov stared at the vampire before him for a moment not to sure if he wanted to share something like that. Yet he didn’t have to know the whole story and cliff notes version could be just as useful. “I have that obvious of an accent? I'm from England, just running from my past and ended up here.” It wasn’t a complete lie yet it wasn’t the whole truth. He was running from his past and he wasn’t proud of it. He would have rather stayed and fought but there was nothing he could do at that point in time. His mother and her agenda of what she wanted to do ran his mind. He figured this is why he wanted to escape out of her grasp so he could actually find himself not be one of her robots. It took the wolf by surprise that the man’s accent had changed. His eyebrows knitted together in great confusion, as the vampire seemed to look as if it was no big deal. Jacov wondered if this was a way to puzzle him or a plan on letting other vampires know that Jacov was up for grabs. Looking around a bit nervously he wanted to be ready if anyone came running out of the bushes. This was the only reason Wolves loved to be in packs, because no matter where you went you always had a form of back up. But this lone wolf now had to take care of himself, no one was going to run to his rescue. So he just inched away from the man’s side and let himself face him front on, it would be easier to make an escape or change if he need to.
Putting his hands in his pockets his eyes roamed around the grounds before him. It almost seemed as if he was more unstable than the vampire in front of him. Not that it’s bad to worry, because if you didn’t worry you could get killed. On the other hand if you worried too much well that could get you killed also. Keeping his eyes peeled he seemed to relax a bit, if they were going to attack it would have been immediately vampires don’t have patience, yet they have all the time in the world. Well that was most of the vampire’s he had run across and the stories his elder brothers and sister had told him. “So are you going to school here? Or just checking it out making sure this is the place for you?” He wanted to badly to share that he knew the man was a vampire but it wouldn’t have been smart. So he held his tongue against what his mind was telling him to do. It was a downfall for Jacov he loved to rub things in people’s faces when they thought they were getting away with something. [/blockquote]
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