Malignant Felicity is a paradisaical abode to the faithful remains of a mighty pack. Once ruled by the magnificent wolf Genocide, now the wolves of this pack follow the laws of the Alpha Lance, son of Sorna, Beta and Genocide's best friend...
The sounds of crashing water fill your auds as you enter this tropical paradise. The tall trunks tower above you. The treetop canopy's seem to shade the beautiful land from the sun's rays. What a paradise this place seems. This place dubbed Malignant Felicity. As you draw closer to the boarders a stench slowly devours the air around you. The stench of death.
"Beware..." scream the birds from above you. "She kills for games. She kills for fun." Something deep inside tells you to listen. Your body tells you not to go no further. Do you listen or do you dare move into the pack borders. This could be a life or death decision...
Follow the Queen, or become a corpse that lines her border. The choice lies with you.
IP: 75.91.103.205
Posted on August 5, 2010 at 01:29:32 AM by Devil May Cry
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It was nice every so often just to relax under the moon's lazy beams, soaking up the night light and easing the muscles that give so much. The onyx beast was lying stretched out just so on a flat rock near the edge of the border, close enough to smell every dead beat that passed by, close enough to kill if he'd so intended. Where were they coming from these days, bitch ville? Really, he'd been meeting a lot of guys lately that just smelled like chicks, let alone cried like one too when he ripped their throats out. Pussies, all of them. He was looking for a new kind of fun, really, one that actually exerted him and pushed him to his limits. Well, he liked pushing himself to his limits. His playtime, and hell, it had been a while since he'd had one of those. He wondered again where all the fun lasses had gone off to play. Where was the rest of Queens' brood? The sexy Stiletto, the mysterious Metronome? Or even the foxy looking long legged broad, Huntress or something like that? Hell, he was getting to the point where he'd fuck a dog if it walked too close and howled. Devil chuckled at his own dementia, no, he wasn't really that sick, or was he? Besides, he liked a little more fun with his subjects. If you stayed on his good side and actually wanted it? Well, he'd give you the time of your life, he was really all about giving when it came down to a consensual appointment. Otherwise, it was all for the taking, whether you wanted it or not. The pitiful drama queens were his favorite prey. The ones that swung their hips just so and held their dials high like they meant something to the world, like they were a gift to wolf kind. Oh, but he loved sinking his lower capacities into those wenches, just to show them how much of a "gift" they were. He left them bloody, bruised, and crying by the end of it, but it was all good, cause he never left unsatisfied. I mean, in the end, that's all that mattered, right? His nasal passages opened wide, inhaling the strange virile's scent as he went toward the border further on to Devil's right. Was it worthy getting up to explore? Hell no, he hated talking to the males. They were the worst of the newcomers, so cocky and 'Oh, I'm a killer, I talk the talk but I can't walk the walk without tripping.' They all thought they knew what blood tasted like, what its like to kill one of your own kind with no guilt, no regrets. Would they ever pass the test? He smirked. Fuck no, they wouldn't. They were all hypocrites and liars, he bet they couldn't even remember the color of the last wolf they killed, or the gender. No, they'd stumble over every word they said, cause they didn't know squat about killing. They just thought if they came to the border acting confident and smeared a little blood in their coat then they'd be in, Malignant Felicity material. Bullshit, not if he could help it. Soon, he caught the aroma of Entertainer on the scene, though, the ivory punk with a big mole on his shoulders who thought he was the comedian of the world. He might be an alright guy later on down the road, Devil was just too lazy to find out more about him. He just didn't get along so well with the masculine species, he was way more into the maiden class. Figuring he could handle the new comer, though, he stretched himself out more, groaning in delight as some vertebrae popped at the tension. Ah, those muscles could sure get worked up after a work out. Well, he didn't even break a sweat, but still. Then another perfume lent itself to his nares. A demoness, and she smelled of Malignant. So, another pack member he had yet to meet. Fun, fun. he enjoyed meeting the velcas a lot more than the boys. Some how they always seemed more dangerous, and a lot more fun. So now it was a threesome, two guys, one girl. Damn, he might be missing the time of his life. The bronc decided to sit up now, stretching out his fore stilts a little more to hear some more satisfying cracks of bone in his ownf framework. Much better. He was just about to go stalking the border, looking for fresh prey when he heard a call and could have sworn he heard his name. Ah, it was his name, and it was spoken from a feminine tone. It was coming from the direction of the threesome, he noted with a prick of his satellites. His scars pulled down in a frown. Would it really be worth it to investigate? Sometimes, playing just wasn't what it was cracked up to be. Ah, but he was bored, so why the hell not? His fur bristling a little at being called like a mutt, the death kissed behemoth moved into the shadows with style, heading toward them at his own pace. He hugged the darkness like a long lost lover, hiding in its colorlessness and stepping around every noise making twig and debris with ease as his assassin training. They would have to see him to know he was there. He even masked his scent, staying down wind of the whole circus as he traveled out wide before coming in. It was all instinct, and he liked his approach. Now he would be coming in right in the space behind Tammy and Entertainer, facing Bloodrush. Oh, but what fun. He stopped to scope out the situation before he made himself known. A chocolate and midnight draped femora that seemed somewhat like Queens in appearance seemed to be having fun tormenting a demon on the ground. Entertainer looked on from the sidelines, though Devil was sure he was enjoying the sight. Well, now, should he ruin this little paradise? Sure, why not? Sighing, he stepped forward out of the foliage, his sunkist gazers on the brute that was still on the ground as he shouldered his way right past the minx and czar omegas. He held his facilities and banner at Delta level to show the boy his status while he sized him up. Lowering his own skull then till he was face to face with the bronc, his nose only inches from the vampire's own, he hissed in a deep voice. "Tell me, oh worshipful killer, what's the best tasting blood there is? Answer honestly and quickly, my patience isn't much for this world and your time is ticking." He grinned then, curling his charcoal livids back to reveal his pearly weapons, his body shaking slightly as his muscles bulged, ready and coiled to spring. Tick, tock. |
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