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Post by imaya on Sept 6, 2010 0:18:31 GMT -5
((Okay, so apologies in advance for the randomness! XD))
Listen up, turn it up and rock it out party on, I wanna hear you scream and shout this is real, as real as it gets I came to get down to get some fucking respect taking it back to hardcore level you better be ready, put your pedal to the metal taking it back to hardcore level you better be ready, put your pedal to the metal.
Airbourne’s screech filled her ears as she walked down the street, nodding her head to the beat. ‘Blond, bad and beautiful’ was what she felt like today, and hell if the lead singer wasn’t getting her in the mood to do some damage! She was ready to party, ready to drown herself in booze, flirty glances and cheap cologne. She wanted to forget everything but the fact that she was in the prime of her life and was going to suck all the marrow out of it. To damned with the consequences!
…Now, if only she could convince the rotting squirrel at her leg to stop mimicking a bad porn video. There went her new boots!
With a yelp, Imaya shook her foot, glancing nervously at the dark park path around her. The squirrel was latched onto her poor ankle, showing it how much it loved her, and she shuffled over to a darker portion of the sidewalk. Darn her brother for calling her and getting her upset! This was why she liked to be calm and serene…but one glance at her twin, and all that went out the window. Dangit, she hadn’t wanted to raise a dead squirrel! She must have waved her hand by mistake when she thought of forgetting things, and…well, hello, perverted dead animal.
”Of course…why not?” Shake, shake. ”It’s not like I wasn’t trying to have a nice evening, or anything. No, why would I try to do that? My brother tells me that he’s decided not to get his eye fixed before he goes blind, a schmo comes over to tell me that tarot reading is the devil’s work, so I’m Satan’s Whore,” More shaking. ”But I should just take it like a man and sleep it off! Rub some dirt on it!” The shaking was getting pretty insistent now, especially when the darn thing started squeaking. Oh HELL no; it wasn’t…it couldn’t…freaking ew factor, man!
”AAAIEEEE! GET OFF, GET OFF, GET OFF!”
Thank all that was holy that the park was deserted at this time of night, or she would have up and died of embarrassment. It wasn’t enough that she couldn’t seem to channel her gifts well enough to raise a normal dead person; oh no, she had to be the lucky moron who raised dead animals when she got emotional! Gah, she had to get out of the park, before something bigger came back to life!
With one last kick that sent the squirrel sailing through the trees, the woman made a beeline for the exit, red streaked pig tails flopping in the wind. Her biker boots made loud clomping noises as she ran with the beat of her ipod, and she didn’t stop until she was surrounded by the smell of gas and concrete.
Whoof, who would’ve thought she’d appreciate exhaust over pine trees? Oh, her poor boots…and please, for all that’s holy, say that when she turned her head to stick her tongue out at the park entrance, she didn’t notice a dark form scurrying toward her? Frick, no! Go back to being dead, you stupid, zombie rodent!
And she proceeded to yowl just that, as she hopped up onto an iron fence and swatted at the chattering squirrel on the sidewalk. At three in the morning, the street was pretty empty, save for a few sleepy taxi drivers…thank God. That was all she needed; her face and the dead squirrel splashed onto tomorrow morning’s tabloids.
As for now…well, now, she was the proud owner of an undead squirrel-stalker. Huzzah and pass the fly swatter! Hanging onto the cold iron gate for dear life, she kicked at the balding animal.
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Post by Abigail Faraday-Brennan on Sept 6, 2010 20:27:14 GMT -5
Brennan sat quietly in the center of the park, soaking in the moon’s radiance. Boss sprawled beside her, his tongue lolling and his eyes spinning in crazy circles as he rolled happily in the grass. Poor guy didn’t get to see much greenery when they were on the road. But tonight, Brennan was between hunts and could afford a rest. A short rest, maybe, but a rest nonetheless. Unable to sleep, however, on such a gorgeous night, she had taken to the streets, unafraid of muggers or druggies with Boss close beside her and her staff slung across her back. The Big Easy just had too much interesting night life to resist.
After wending through a number of fascinating districts and cemeteries, she had eventually stumbled upon the large park. There she had walked until she lost all track of time, rambling aimlessly down the pretty moonlit paths. She had replenished a number of hard-to-find herbs during her travels, thanks the Goddess. That last hunt had depleted her resources a lot more than she would have liked. Finally, she had wound down enough to rest, and had plopped herself unceremoniously in the grass in the middle of a copse of trees. And there she sat, thinking and taking in the moon’s glow.
Until the woman screamed.
Brennan’s head whipped around in the direction of the shout, and she was on her feet instantly, her staff held at the ready.
Not tonight, she groaned as Boss righted himself and cocked his ears toward the commotion. I’m supposed to be on vacation…well, such as it is.
With a growl, the witch started quietly through the trees, leaping back when a furry, stinking shape sailed past her head.
What the hell? Was that a… She turned to look behind her, dumbfounded, as the rotting form righted itself, switched its molting tail in agitation, and raced back in the direction it had come from. …undead freaking squirrel?!
Staring after the leaping rodent in disbelief, she finally convinced her legs to move and followed quickly in its wake, wondering if one of the local witch doctors was up to a little mischief. She broke through the trees and onto the path several yards behind the miniature terror, just in time to see it make a beeline for a nearby pedestrian.
Oh for the love…
“Setz!” she ordered Boss as the little terror bounded through the park gates, chattering in excitement. “Bleib!”
Boss whined unhappily as he planted his butt on the grass and froze in place, but she wouldn’t relent. She didn’t need him ending up like Dozer… No time for that now. She shoved the painful memories aside and sprinted headlong down the dark pathway.
She caught up as it chased the hapless woman up a nearby fence, and shook her head wryly as the woman yowled and smacked at it with her designer handbag.
Well now I've seen everything...
Drawing her fighting staff back, she lunged forward with the sharpened end as the squirrel leaped into the air, skewering it neatly through the middle with six feet of ash and charmed silver. The rodent zombie screeched and struggled for a moment, finally falling limp, its tongue lolling from the side of its mouth.
Eying the decaying mass with distaste, Brennan gingerly wiped the thing off her staff with the toe off her boot, grimacing as an unidentifiable liquid seeped out. She turned to speak to the woman, but movement caught her eye, and she swore as the mini zombie twitched its ear and fixed its orbless eyes on her. Should she? Aw hell, the woman had already been molested by a zombie freaking squirrel. What would a little magick hurt?
And I can always invite her back to the hotel and whip up a batch of that Remember-Not tea to calm her down if I need to…
Drawing her personal power about her, Brennan focused her will, made a slight motion with her fingers, and the squirrel burst into flame. The dry fur and dead flesh caught quickly, and after a moment, only ashes remained. Eying the remains suspiciously, the witch finally relaxed, convinced that the zombie was not going to give an encore performance. Turning now to the woman, she eyed her calculatingly and decided that a little truth couldn’t hurt either, especially if she was going to forget all of this later.
“Hi,” she said with a rueful half-smile, holding out her hand. “I’m Brennan. Are you alright?”
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Post by imaya on Sept 9, 2010 14:47:07 GMT -5
”Oh for the love of Pete!” Imaya snarled, kicking at the clawing squirrel like it was a mini-football with eyes. ”Aren’t you supposed to listen to me, you stupid rapist squirrel? I brought you back to life, dammit! Now…stop! No, don’t climb up the—AH FOR CRYIN’ OUT LOUD!”
As the undead animal proceeded to scurry up the gate- duh, squirrels can climb; total brain freeze moment, man- she let loose a yowl of displeasure and let go, getting ready to make a break for the nearest building. Please, for all that was holy, say that there was a place open at this hour? Please? She’d be a good girl, she promised! She’d abstain from booze, from parties, from men…
Okay, so maybe not that last one, but she would try! God, if this got out on youtube, she was going to be VERY pissed off!
Not that it got that far, when an unfamiliar lady showed up out of thing air, barked something that sounded strangely Elvin, and the squirrel proceeded to spontaneously combust. Okay, so if that hadn’t just scared the ever living crap out of her, she’d probably be begging Pyro-Woman for some private tutoring. God knew how handy a power like that could be, when faced with some unhappy readings.
With a surprised squawk, Imaya danced away from the smoldering squirrel, eyeballs practically ready to pop out of her head and start singing the American anthem. When the zombie stopped moving, she let out a relieved breath, sank back against her previous perch and gripped the iron gate. She let her head fall back against it with a thud, and closed her eyes.
”Oh, I’ve definitely had better days. You’d think that zombies would be easy to control, when you’ve been calling them up every time your hormones go bonkers, but you’d be wrong,” A baleful expression on her face, the necromancer looked up and pinned the woman with a raised brow. ”But it’s always nice to know that I’m not the only weirdo in a ten mile radius. Nice fireball. Where’d you learn how to do that?”
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Post by Abigail Faraday-Brennan on Sept 22, 2010 20:05:56 GMT -5
Brennan’s eyebrows shot up as the young woman slumped against the gate and revealed that she’d been calling up zombies for most of her life.
Well, that’s gotta suck, she thought, trying to imagine how difficult puberty must have been for a girl like this. She stifled a laugh at the thought of this woman as a gangly teenager, slinking out of a high school anatomy lab with an army of undead, dissected frogs hopping in her wake. Oh, that’s really not funny, she decided, wincing. I wonder if she just avoided the biology classrooms altogether, or if she opted with homeschooling?
Finally gaining control of her expression, Brennan gave the woman a once-over, mentally amending her earlier impression of a preppy rich kid, out for thrills, who’d gotten caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. There was a chance that she was lying about reanimating the zombie herself, but what purpose would that serve? And if she hadn’t created the thing, then why was she reacting so calmly? Well, relatively speaking, anyway. No, there was some substance to this girl, and an edge in her expression that suggested that she knew a lot more about the world than Brennan would have originally guessed. With that in mind, the witch once again decided on a straightforward answer.
Taking no offense to the "weirdo" comment, she nodded a greeting to the woman before answering.
"Oh, it's just a little something my mom taught me when I was growing up."
Brennan silently thanked the Goddess that her mother had refused to teach her how to do it until she'd had enough control to use it without burning everything down around herself. She could only imagine what would have happened if something like that had been sprung on her from birth, as she suspected this girl's..."gift" had been.
"So..." she continued after a moment, looking anxiously about for signs of anymore undead, decaying rodents. "Does this kind of thing tend to happen often?"
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Post by imaya on Dec 8, 2010 22:20:13 GMT -5
”Damn, lucky you. My mom just taught me how to relocate a biker’s balls into his throat. Do you think anyone can make a fireball? ‘Cause that was just SWEET.”
Imaya knew that she was probably sounding like a psycho, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself. Blame it on adrenaline, or the mere giddiness associated with meeting someone as odd as her, but hell if she could make the babbling stop. Would the girl give her one of those ‘you just grew two heads’ looks and run away, like everyone else did? Bah, this was why she really didn’t have many close friends; they always seemed to take one look at her random personality and bolt.
Nobody liked to hang around people who were naturally volatile, after all. Especially when said volatility tended to make the local wildlife more…wild.
Catching sight of those wandering eyes, the younger DeVoux twin let loose a shaky laugh, smoothing her fingers through her now frizzy hair. ”Don’t worry; if there were more running around, you’d definitely know it by now. As for your question…nah, it doesn’t happen very often. Only when I’m trying to raise an actual liche, or when I’m really emotional.”
Which actually was often, but she wasn’t going to let Miss Stranger With The Fireballs know that.
Making a show of straightening her clothes and pointedly NOT looking down at her ankle- ew, ew, ew, she didn’t want to know what was staining the $200 boots she didn’t need, yet had bought with last month’s rent check anyway- she crossed her arms over her chest and pasted on a smile. ”So, how about we trade names, since you basically just saved me from being carted off to the Funny Farm? I’m Imaya DeVoux, resident Necromancer Light. I’d shake your hand and all, but…yeah, I think I have squirrel goo on my fingers. Ew.”
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