- can't help but wait

[rawlzie]

ONE PUSH IS ALL YOU'LL NEED
- - - - - - - - a fist first philosophy - - - - - - - -
Tag: open Words: pft no clue Lyrics: Diamond Eyes - Shinedown
Outfit: leggings, top, shoes Notes: blah, blah... blah
- - - - - - - - - - - - -

The wood was rough underneath her fingers, the threat of splinters was quite real. The pier stretched out like a great hand into the ocean, the waves surging and crashing only meters below her underneath the worn planks. The screams and laughter of people far behind her were occasionally drowned out by a particularly hard hitting wave, she didn't pay anyone any mind anyway. She was as far as she could possibly get from the large crowds of people that were finding entertainment with what amusements the pier had to offer.

She had no interest in joining any of the fun things that swirled far behind her, she was quite content to lean against the railing of the very far end of the pier. The wind had swept in from the vast horizon carrying the tangy smell of salt and the after-effects of a faint fishy odor but it wasn't completely disgusting to her. She welcomed the difference and freshness that it posed against the inner city smells.

It tickled her back as it lifted her loose shirt and made loopy billows with the edges of the fabric, her leggings the only tight thing on her body. Pale locks of hair drifted out along the length of the wind, dipping and falling with each timed breeze. The bloated sun was sitting just on top of the thin horizon, the usually bright rays now a dazzling pomegranate and dusky orange. She let her hands drift down to the camera she used for spur-of-the-moment shots to grasp it, bringing it slowly up to her face as she contemplated her angle of the brilliant setting sun.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -
- - - - - - - - we watch with wounded eyes - - - - - - - -
SO I HOPE YOU'LL RECOGNIZE
- - - - - - - i'm on the front line, don't worry, i'll be fine - - - - - - -

template made by !LIEBE IST FÜR RAMMSTEIN! @ caution 2.0!

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steal and you'll be eaten by cannibals[/size]
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[tobias avedis baker]

YOU WOULD NOT BELIEVE YOUR EYES

if ten million fireflies lit up
THE WORLD AS I FELL ASLEEP

Not many people understood the allure of escaping the solitary house, with their small (but still large) combined families who all seemed to live there. Dylan Mercier had taken him and his mate in when he’d been pregnant and confused – had given shelter to his younger brother and his brother’s mate, to his older brother (a demon at the time) and then the shifter who turned out to be his younger brother, and then there was the man and his mate himself. The vampire was strange, not like the others – mates with an angel, and supposedly having turned himself simply so he could be with his mate forever.

It all confused him, but he was grateful for the roof over his head after a lifetime of living in abandoned houses and hiding in barn lofts – of never having a single place to call home, but multiple bolt holes he could reside in. Now he had a place he could raise his children, and re-connect with a brother he hadn’t known he had, and enjoy life with his mate. Mercier Manor, however, was nestled within a thick forest and secluded from everyone – having lived in the bustle of Los Angeles since he was ten, fending for himself, he found himself craving crowds and noise every so often. A hoodie and jeans hid his scars from everyone - the burn ones, at least. that covered most of his torso and legs from where he'd been pinned underneath a burning beam. A thin, barely noticeable scar ran down his left cheek from a fight with a demon, and if someone looked closely they could see the bite marks where Kolt would bite down on his neck when feeding.

He walked down the pier, lost in thought but never quite taking his focus away from everyone else around him. He'd been running for too long to ever really lose his guard in a crowd - his hazel eyes kept a constant watch, alert for any kind of demon or vampire he might have to run from. As Angelus's 'lost' son, he attracted attention he would have rather foregone now that he had been 'found.' Finding himself at the edge of the pier, he glanced over the woman standing there with a camera - shyly, he offered her a mute wave, his eyes friendly but his mouth silent. He hadn't been able to speak since he'd been ten years old, after all.

"Toby signing looks like this!"
Thinking looks like this!
"Other characters talking looks like this!"

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tagged: MARY-ANN!
outfit: HERE!.
notes: OH BOY
lyrics: FIREFLIES, OWL CITY
credit: TEMPLATE BY SHAZI ?! AT CAUTION 2.0

[rawlzie]

ONE PUSH IS ALL YOU'LL NEED
- - - - - - - - a fist first philosophy - - - - - - - -
Tag: open Words: pft no clue Lyrics: Diamond Eyes - Shinedown
Outfit: leggings, top, shoes Notes: blah, blah... blah
- - - - - - - - - - - - -

The wind tossed her long, thin hair around her in a frenzy as a particularly strong gust swirled around her. The salt and brine scent was almost overpowering as she held still and let it envelope her. She had paused while bringing her camera up to her face so she could breathe in the scents, they were much more pungent and strong to a shifter than a regular human. She could pick out tinier details than someone normal could. Like the fact that there was someone coming up behind her, but they weren't aggressive. Though that had nothing to do with scents, she just used instinct.

Clearing her throat softly she brought her camera up so she could fit her eye into the shutter before snapping a quick picture of the sinking sun. Movement was made in the corner of her vision and she slowly brought her camera down before releasing it to bump against her stomach, the strap digging into her neck. A simple wave was friendly enough she thought. Raising her hand tentatively she gave a small finger wave back, her eyes darting around them to make sure that there was no one else around. She cleared her throat much more forcefully before speaking, her voice quiet and light. "Who are you?" It was simple and to the point, she wanted to at least know who he was before she spilled any small detail about herself.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -
- - - - - - - - we watch with wounded eyes - - - - - - - -
SO I HOPE YOU'LL RECOGNIZE
- - - - - - - i'm on the front line, don't worry, i'll be fine - - - - - - -

template made by !LIEBE IST FÜR RAMMSTEIN! @ caution 2.0!

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steal and you'll be eaten by cannibals[/size]
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[tobias avedis baker]

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[/style][style=font-family: georgia; font-size: 40px; font-style: italic; letter-spacing: -5px; color: 232D54; text-shadow: #000000 1px 1px 0px; line-height: 25px; padding-bottom: 6px; padding-left:1px; text-align: left;]cause when push comes to shove

YOU TASTE WHAT YOU'RE MADE OF, YOU MIGHT BEND TILL YOU BREAK BECAUSE IT'S ALL YOU CAN TAKE, ON YOUR KNEES YOU LOOK UP DECIDE YOU'VE HAD ENOUGH, YOU GET MAD YOU GET STRONG WIPE YOUR HANDS SHAKE IT OFF - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

He watched her quietly as she snapped a quick picture, his hazel eyes looking towards the sinking sun as though watching it even while all of his attention was on her. He'd never completely lost his wary nature, not even after having lived in the Manor in relative safety for so long. Few dared to cross his mate or the vampire who had taken them in - the biggest danger in the manor right now came from one protective red panda shifter, since his mate was pregnant and he had adopted a 'no one comes near without getting clawed to hell' stance towards everyone. He giggled at the thought, the noise raspy and harsh even to his own ears. Every sound he made usually sounded like that - distorted from the normal way it should sound, raspier and harsher due to the damage to his vocal chords from smoke inhalation that would have killed a normal human, the same damage that had forever ruined his ability to speak.

His attention turned to the girl as she spoke, those hazel eyes turning towards her before he smiled, carefully gesturing towards his throat with a sheepish shrug - the best way, he'd found, to indicate his inability to speak. Holding up one finger for her to wait with an apologetic smile, he fished the small battered notepad and stub of a pencil he always carried out of his hoodie pocket, scribbling down "My name is Toby. What's yours?" in the neatest handwriting he could manage (ending up looking like a child's large block letters, because he wasn't really too good at writing, having had to relearn it on the run). He tilted the notepad towards her, tilting his head like a curious bird.

[/style][style= width: 200px; font-size: 09px; font-family: arial; padding: 5px; color: 6a6a6a;]thereisalieinperfection @ CAUTION 2.0

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