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Post by Curran Aiden Pettelli on Mar 19, 2011 9:56:03 GMT -5
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Growling in frustration, Curran threw his bottle against the wall, staining the faded blue wallpaper with the remainder of the amber liquid and littering the floor with shards of glass. She was playing with him, and he knew it – this wasn’t the first time she had led him on some wild goose chase, wasn’t the first time she had screwed with his head, and it was driving the young man crazy. Growling, he stalked across the motel room and sat on his bed, resting his head in his hands as he thought back over the last few days. Nearly two years ago, he’d been walking home from a movie with his sister when she’d become possessed by a demon.
Nearly two years ago he had watched her murder a young girl in an alleyway, an image that still haunted his dreams and left him wakening in a cold sweat in the middle of the night. Nearly two years ago, she’d fallen of the face of the planet, and left him to pick up the epics, to explain her disappearance to his parents, and he’d pulled the reason out of his ass. She’d gone travelling. It helped of course she had moved out by this point – that she still ‘sent’ them postcards from the places she visited – photo shopped photo’s of Syrelli near the pyramids, on the beach, back home by the coliseum.
Standing, Curran let out a sound of frustration and punched the wall repeatedly, splitting his knuckles. Though his blood joined the stains that already existed on the faded wallpaper, by the time he wiped it away with his fingers the cuts had gone, with no sign they had ever even existed. There were some benefits, he had to admit, to his heritage. Even if it did mean that the demon in Syrelli’s body could basically toss herself of a building and walk away.
Grabbing his bag, Curran closed the laptop that sat open on the desk and left. Even if these attacks were not the fault of this demon, even if it wasn’t Syrelli, even if the chances were, like the last three fucking times, she had set this entire thing up – though for what purpose other than to piss him off he had no idea- there was still something out there in the woods attacking people, and he’d be damned if he was going to let whoever it was continue.
Closing the door to the small motel room behind him, Curran Aiden Pettelli felt a lot more confident than he looked – arrogance bred into him from studying the supernatural – from being part of it himself had somewhat managed to convince the young man he could pass himself off as a hunter, that he could do this small town of Ashton, Idaho a favour and rid them of whatever was prowling the night time. What he couldn’t know of course, was just how deep the trouble he was about to get himself into.
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Post by Sastre Quicksilver on May 6, 2011 15:51:34 GMT -5
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,padding-left:16px; padding-top:0px; padding-right:0px; padding-bottom:0px; background-image:url(http://i51.tinypic.com/2nbr3oi.jpg) ] Sastre Quicksilver And without you is how I disappear
And live my life alone, forever now… - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Sastre flinched and looked up from her laptop.
There it was again, the sound of something striking the wall in the room next to hers. The first time it'd been a single, loud crack, accompanied by what had sounded like broken glass. When nothing else had followed that sound, Sastre had returned her attention to the computer, continuing her research into what might be attacking the people of this small town. Now, though, mere moments later, a rhythmic, steady pounding could be heard against the wall.
Furrowing her brow, Sastre stood up and walked the few feet across the tiny room, moving to lay her hand against the wall, able to feel the vibrations as whatever it was that was hitting it from the other side continued. When it stopped again, she frowned, wondering what exactly was going on. Shaking her head to clear it, knowing that whatever it was probably wasn't any of her business, Sastre decided it was time to go out and take a look around the nearby forest for herself.
Slipping her long, grey jacket on despite the late afternoon warmth, Sastre slung her satchel of supplies over her shoulder and slipped out of the room. At the same time, she heard the door of the room next to her's open as well, and she squinted against the sudden bright light as she tried to get a good look at the young man who'd just tore out and was walking briskly toward her.
Blinking in genuine shock, Sastre couldn't believe her eyes.
Curran?
Her training took over, and Sastre's expression instantly returned to its normal, indifferent state. Even though she was outwardly calm and collected, Sastre's heart was beating a mile a minute, and her mind was running with a thousand frenzied, disjointed thoughts. She had no idea what she would do if Curran recognized her...
It had been over a year now since she'd been taken, and Sastre had been working hard, nonstop, to try and leave her old life behind and get on with her new one. She was still technically in training with Florian, her father, the last person to have borne the "Sastre Quicksilver" name before her. It was training in name only, though, as the man had told her several times that she was nearing the end, and that it was almost time to go back. Lately, more often than not, Sastre had taken it upon herself to go out and take on some of these small jobs, using the work to get her mind off of the one thing that seemed to always come back, no matter how hard she tried to ignore it:
She didn't have anything to go back to.
Not once in the year and more that Sastre had been off training had Brennan saw fit to write her a single letter, though the hunter herself had sent her wife numerous, as often as she could write them. She knew that the letters had been received, for multiple reasons: first off, Florian and Sastre had gotten enough news from back east to know that Lily had been officially declared dead, which was what Florian had told Brennan and Madison in the first letter he'd sent, and secondly, none of the letters that Sastre had written Brennan had been returned. Though that could have meant that they'd been lost in the mail, Sastre found it hard to believe. Besides, she'd always feared that one day Brennan would move on, and apparently that's what had happened...
Running through a quick mental exercise to clear her mind of these depressing thoughts, Sastre closed and locked her hotel room door behind her, swallowing hard and wondering if Curran would recognize her. Chances were high that he would, she knew, despite the changes to her appearance. Sastre had developed a deep tan during her months in the desert, and had gone so far as to grow out and dye her hair in an attempt to change her appearance... But Curran was a loup garou, and as such had an incredibly powerful sense of smell. Sastre, as Lily, had spent enough time around Elle and him for the young man to easily recognize her scent.
Playing it cool, Sastre lowered her eyes and walked past him, heading to her parked hummer, her pace perhaps a bit quicker than normal...
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Post by Curran Aiden Pettelli on May 12, 2011 10:02:34 GMT -5
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Adjusting the strap on his bag, Curran shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans and headed towards his car, a black Landrover he had bought on Simmi’s prompting so that he could take Elle Mudding and off roading, and now he was quite glad for it. It made carting things round a little easier than on his bike; not that he would ever give up the silver Ducati. He loved that damn thing, and despite being grateful for having the car here now, he longed for the speed. He cared little for outward appearance – god knew the landrover was already covered in scratches; all he cared for was getting from point A to point B in the fastest time possible, and he didn’t care how many horses this damn thing had under the hood, his Ducati was still faster.
Lost in his won world for a moment, a world on anger, frustration and emotion that more often than not was never outwardly expressed, Curran thought little of the figure walking towards him until the two had passed. She was upwind, and it was only once the light breeze brought the scent to him did it pierce his emotion fogged brain and clear the smog of anger that had taken him over. There was something familiar about that smell and the man paused, eyebrows knitting as he frowned and turned on his heel, staring after the blonde haired woman.
Nah. No. Lily was dead. He knew. Elle had wept for days when she found out, so there was no way the blonde figure walking away from him was her. There was no chance. But even as his brain went over and over the reasons why the hunter could not be the one walking away from him, reasons why such things were impossible, a small voice reminded him that he could say nothing for what was impossible or not; not when he could turn into a wolf when he wanted. Curran often forgot that the majority of the world’s population would not class that as ‘normal’. And besides. People came back from the dead all the time. The Winchesters had started a freakin’ craze in the damn thing, the joke of the supernatural world. Humans were so... well. What was dead should stay dead.
But no. As much as his head denied, there was no denying the smell. You could change everything about a person, but you would never get rid of their unique scent – scents so freakin’ strong Curran could pick them up without paws and a tail. Pausing for another second, Curran strode after her, long legs meaning he caught up with her quickly at his jog like pace, reaching a hand to her shoulder at the same time asking ”Lily?”, The question clear in his voice.
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Post by Sastre Quicksilver on May 15, 2011 17:08:55 GMT -5
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,padding-left:16px; padding-top:0px; padding-right:0px; padding-bottom:0px; background-image:url(http://i51.tinypic.com/2nbr3oi.jpg) ] Sastre Quicksilver And without you is how I disappear
And live my life alone, forever now… - - - - - - - - - - - - - - When Sastre felt the hand on her shoulder, her vision went red.
A thousand memories--all of them nightmarish--tore through her mind at once. The depravities that she'd suffered during her captivity still haunted the young woman, and she could hardly abide another person's touch as it was, but when that touch came from a man, instinct took over. Even Florian, her father, couldn't lay a hand on her in kindness or comfort, and Sastre knew, loved, and trusted him entirely. What had happened to her had just left too many scars, and not only the gruesome ones that littered her body.
She spun quickly, drawing her 1900 Colt in a single, fluid movement as she turned, leveling the weapon at Curran, its barrel mere centimeters from his forehead. To all outward appearances, Sastre was cool, calm, and collected. Inside, though, she was seething, and struggling to maintain that air of cold indifference that she'd long been cultivating.
"I don't like being touched," she said, her words hissing between clenched teeth. In fact, though she knew that Curran probably didn't mean her any harm, it was taking all of Sastre's not-inconsiderable willpower to keep from pulling the trigger. Finally, slowly, she lowered the weapon, using one of the mental calming exercises that Florian had taught her to cool the rage that was simmering deep inside of her.
Now, with her emotions finally under her control again, and her hellish memories buried deeply in her subconscious once more, Sastre put the gun away and relaxed.
"Curran," she said softly, inclining her head in greeting. "It's been a long time... Almost a year, I guess."
Seeing the young man caused Sastre's mind to turn to the old days, when she'd been Lily Faraday, and everything had seemed infinitely easier, all things considered. She felt her throat tighten a bit at the memory of Elle, her closest friend, who had no doubt mourned her loss along with everyone else. Sastre wondered if Brennan had even cared to let everyone know that Lily was still alive, or if she'd simply not cared any more, having obviously moved on. She also wondered what exactly brought Curran out here, as Sastre had worked very hard to keep her distance from anyone she'd known in her old life.
The desire to ask him about Elle was nearly overpowering, but Sastre knew that it wouldn't do her any good to inquire. After all, she wasn't the girl that Elle had known anymore, not really... Before she lost her tenuous hold on her control once again, Sastre immediately engaged Curran once more, not even giving him a chance to return her greeting. She really didn't have time for this...
"What are you doing here, anyway?"
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Post by Curran Aiden Pettelli on May 30, 2011 6:09:06 GMT -5
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Curran blinked when his hand found itself without a shoulder, and instead he found himself faced with the barrel of a gun. Well. That was an interesting turn of events. A slow smile spread on his lips, the boys self assured cockiness kicking in – boosted by the confidence that if this woman was lily she was not about to shoot him, and the small fact that unless it was loaded with silver she would have a hard time killing him. Not that he doubted that Lily could kill him if she wanted too. There were many hunters who could kill him if they wanted too; he just trusted that at this very moment, she didn’t. Besides. He’d go down fighting if that was the case.
”Hello to you too.” He said, the words lifted by the easy smile on his face, dropping his hand to push them both into his pocket. An easy stance that matched the indifference on his features. Perhaps sometimes Curran Pettelli was a little too cocksure – but then wasn’t that the reason he was here now? So sure of himself and what he could do? Perhaps it was a lucky twist of fate that Curran had happened to be in the same place as Lily. ”Okay. No touching. I’ll remember that.” But despite his relaxed stance, the wolf coiled in his breast backed down only once the gun had gone away, the amber hint that threatened his eyes vanished only once the danger had passed.
”A year? Fuck your right... man we thought you were dead.... wait till I tell Elle. She was devastated.” He smiled softly, wondering perhaps why the woman before him had disappeared for so long – why she had allowed people to love her to believe she was dead, but he didn’t question it. She had her reasons, and he knew all about keeping secrets from the people you loved. He had been keeping the secret of his sister’s actuality, of her situation from his parents and the rest of his family for more than two years now. He had no foothold to lecture Lily on her actions. ”Nice to see you’re not dead, by the way.”
”Here?” he glanced once more to her gun, tucked away now but forever there. Lifting one hand from his pocket, he adjusted the strap of the bag on his shoulder. ”I would hazard a guess at the same thing as you.”
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Post by Sastre Quicksilver on Jun 6, 2011 20:26:36 GMT -5
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,padding-left:16px; padding-top:0px; padding-right:0px; padding-bottom:0px; background-image:url(http://i51.tinypic.com/2nbr3oi.jpg) ] Sastre Quicksilver And without you is how I disappear
And live my life alone, forever now… - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Sastre finally was able to fully relax, with the help of her mental exercise.
"It's Sastre now," she told him quickly, not wanting to hear him call her "Lily" again. She'd worked hard to bury that name, and the memories that came with it. Before Curran could ask, she held up a hand to silence him, saying simply, "It's a long story."
When the loup garou mentioned telling Elle that she was alive, Sastre was taken aback momentarily. Brennan hadn't told Elle what was really going on, then? Or maybe Elle hadn't told Curran? She couldn't see Elle not telling him, but at the same time, Sastre couldn't see Brennan being so cold that she wouldn't tell one of Lily's best friends that she wasn't really dead. Well, sort of, anyway. It was complicated... And she couldn't really be mad at Brennen, either, not for this anyway. After all, the second letter she'd sent had instructed Brennan not to tell anyone that she was alive, so...
Sastre shook her head. This entire situation had somehow spiraled out of her control.
"Actually, I'd prefer it if you didn't tell Elle, Curran. At least, not right away." As she spoke, she walked around to the back of her hummer, opening the hatch and making sure all of her equipment was in order. "The truth is, I'm not sure that I'm going back at all, and it might be best if she just went on thinking I was dead."
That at least was true. Now that her relationship with Brennan was apparently over, Sastre couldn't stand the thought of going back and having anything to do with anyone from her past life. It would just be too hard, and she wasn't too proud to admit that she probably wasn't strong enough to handle it. Let everyone think she was dead, and let them move on.
Like Brennan probably has...
"So, you're hear about whatever's attacking the people of this town then?" Sastre asked, wanting to get her mind off of Brennan and her past. "I guess I didn't realize you hunted. You have any leads?" she asked, closing the hatch and leaning against the vehicle, her cool eyes settling on Curran once again. "If so, I'd be happy to hear them. Admittedly, I don't really have anything. I was just about to head out and have a look around for myself."
That wasn't entirely true. She might not have had any concrete leads, but she had a theory or two bouncing around in her head. And though she wasn't particularly fond of the idea, if Curran wanted to give her a hand--or vice versa--it just meant that this job would be done sooner, and she could move on to the next. By keeping busy, she could keep her mind focused on the hunt, and nothing else.
It was the only thing that kept her going sometimes...
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Post by Curran Aiden Pettelli on Jun 12, 2011 7:51:35 GMT -5
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”Sastre? Uh... okay. If you say so.” Sastre? Curran was pretty sure that Sastre was the name of that other guy he sometimes saw in the bar, the guy who was always reading beneath the painted devil’s trap on the ceiling. He wasn’t sure if he had ever spoken to the previous Sastre, though he couldn’t help but wonder just what that guy as going by now. Maybe it was something really common. Like Edward? He wasn’t sure.
As normal, Curran’s overactive brain had led the boy on a whole other tangent of thinking, and it took the boy with ADHD a moment to return to the conversation; the task that caused him to drive out here with the hope of finally confronting a sister who had been gone for far too long, of killing the demon that had stolen her from him nearly two years before.
Taking her raised hand as a notion not to ask about the sudden desire to rename herself after a man who spent a lot of time beneath a devils trap, but who was he to question her motives?
Her next words however left the young man floundering in the metaphorical waves. She didn’t want him to tell Elle? What? Elle would be ecstatic lily – no. Sastre was alive. Brennan too surely? For as far as the young wolf knew not even Brennan knew of lilysastre’s (yeah, that worked) current existence as a living, breathing and tanned humanoid. Frowning, Curran took a rare moment to just stare at her, study her face and the small changed to her appearance, double checking that this was indeed the woman he had known. That his girlfriend was so eternally fond of.
”Uh, You don’t want me to tell her? Elle would be ecstatic to know your still alive, but... if you’re sure you don’t want to anyone to know... i guess i can keep your secret. If you keep mine? No one knows i’m here. I’d appreciate it if you could keep it that way.” he didn’t see any reason why the woman wouldn’t keep his secret, especially is he was keeping hers.
”I had a few ideas... but most of them had turned up nothing. I was going to check it out too actually... i have an idea, but i won’t really know until i get there.” Curran reached behind his head and scratched the nape of his neck. In truth, he had planned to go out and have a sniff around, possibly ever trade in his skin for fur. If there was one thing, whatever it was was attacking people, not animals. ”You need a hand?” Even if the woman said no, he’d go anyway. The woods, even woods foreign to him, were still where Curran felt most comfortable. Were the wolves domain.
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Post by Sastre Quicksilver on Jun 20, 2011 22:16:14 GMT -5
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,padding-left:16px; padding-top:0px; padding-right:0px; padding-bottom:0px; background-image:url(http://i51.tinypic.com/2nbr3oi.jpg) ] Sastre Quicksilver And without you is how I disappear
And live my life alone, forever now… - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
“I do say so. Thanks.”
The next thing she knew, Curran was just sort of staring at her, studying her, no doubt. It didn’t bother Sastre, really, since it was a genuine, curious sort of stare, rather than the lascivious ogling she’d gotten used to during her months in captivity. So, instead of making a big deal out of it, she simply remained silent, standing stock-still and waiting for him to finish his apparent examination. She knew what he was seeing, and how drastic a change it was from her former appearance, but that was the whole point, really. Lily was dead. She was Sastre Quicksilver now.
When he was finally finished studying her, Curran launched into a series of questions, all of which Sastre would rather not have had to deal with. She waited with polite silence until he was finished, then simply shook her head.
“I’d rather not have anyone knowing I’m alive. It’s complicated,” she told him in an even voice. “And you have my word that I won’t tell anyone what you’re doing. It should be fairly easy, since I don’t intend on running into anyone that I used to know.”
Returning her attention to her hummer, Sastre took a last minute look over all of her equipment. There wasn’t much, really, as she’d been trained to travel light. In fact, one of the biggest aspects of the training she’d undergone was to make her entirely self-reliant, using her surroundings and environment as much as possible to get the job done, without having to depend on a lot of weapons or gear. Of course there were always the essentials; things that you just didn’t find lying around, obscure ritual components, and the like. Content that everything was in order, she returned her attention to Curran as he spoke once again.
“Actually, why don’t you take the lead on this one,” Sastre said, crossing her arms over her chest. “After all, you were here first, right? I don’t like the idea of waltzing in and stealing someone’s hunt. I’d be more than willing to lend you a hand, though, if you don’t mind.”
That said, she leaned against the side of her hummer, trying to ignore the heat, which was made even worse by the long-sleeved shirt, pants, and long grey trench-coat that she insisted on wearing. Right then and there, Sastre decided that once this job was wrapped up, she was going to head somewhere a bit cooler for her next hunt… She wondered what Canada was like this time of year?
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Post by Curran Aiden Pettelli on Jul 11, 2011 6:38:37 GMT -5
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Curran took what she said with a small, grateful, smile. She may not wish or want to see anyone again, allow them to carry on thinking and believing that she was dead, but there was always that chance that she might run into someone she knew. After all, she had run into him in the middle of nowhere right? So yes, Curran was glad for the promise. It wasn’t that he was ashamed or anything of what he was doing – it was the link with his sister that the loupe was trying to avoid, the questions that would accompany the inevitable should he ever slip up. The boy was still unwilling to let the past go and accept the fact he was not responsible for his sisters possession.
Yeah... sure he answered in reply to the offer of help. Help was always welcome, if not always apparent in the more obvious of places. I mean, i’d really appreciate the help. he smiled a little, and finished scratching the back of his neck, dropping his hand to the strap on his shoulder. uh... do you wanna go in my car... yours... or take both? Curran asked, looking the hummer over with an appraising eye.
Unlike Sastre, Curran had not spent most of his life learning to fight the monsters of the night. If you wanted to get technical, for many hunters, and for many of the ones he had come across in his earlier life, He was classed as one of these monsters. Being hunted was one of the reasons his family had moved to the states in the first place. No. Curran knew very little about hunting, about the correct equipment – perhaps that was part of the reason why the young men chose a compound bow as his weapon of choice, the arrow heads made of different metals, and engraved with spells from a witch he had tricked down. Perhaps this was why, other than single gun and a head full of nonsense that he believed he knew, the young man thought he could easily taken on the creature in the woods.
Curran would soon find out that he was very, very, wrong.
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Post by Sastre Quicksilver on Jul 27, 2011 20:19:11 GMT -5
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,padding-left:16px; padding-top:0px; padding-right:0px; padding-bottom:0px; background-image:url(http://i51.tinypic.com/2nbr3oi.jpg) ] Sastre Quicksilver And without you is how I disappear
And live my life alone, forever now… - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Moving past Curran, Sastre made her way to the driver's side door of her hummer.
Deep inside, she was having serious misgivings about joining forces with the young loup. It wasn't that she didn't trust him, or even that she disliked him... It was just that she'd spent so long building up this new, lone-wolf (no pun intended), tough-as-nails hunter persona that she simply wasn't used to having a partner. True, she and Florian still hunted together frequently, but that was different, though she couldn't explain why really. It just was.
Still... What could it hurt, having Curran along? Even if he wasn't an experienced hunter, he was still strong, and fast, and had senses that she just couldn't match, despite the grueling, nightmarish training she'd endured.
"If its all the same to you," she said, looking back at him over her shoulder, "I'd just as soon take my hummer. It's equipped with just about everything we might need, and its been modified to be pretty much indestructible." As she spoke, she reached up and patted the top of the vehicle almost lovingly. Climbing up into the driver's seat, she reached over and opened the passenger door for him.
"Shall we?"
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