Recall the deeds as if they're all someone else's atrocious stories

[affections]

Who: Jules, Hasi & an unfortunate Candlelighter (closed)
What: Jules has the Hunger.
Where: Docklands.
When: A DARK AND STORMY NIGHT. Well, a night. And dark. But not stormy. (Any day works for me so WHENEVER HASI IS AROUND THIS AREA I suppose. )
Warnings: Violence, gore, death. A candlelighter being eaten.
Backdated to December 16th, bringing this post on over from LJ, because we're fabulous.

She'd put it off too long.

For days, pushing past two weeks and well beyond her normal time putting off feeding. The advantage of being merely the child of another hybrid, rather than a monster, meant that her need to feed was less frequent, could be staved off longer, but that generally required a stronger emotional state and peace of mind than she could even pretend to have, of late. Why she'd put it off, she wasn't sure; Baedal was confusing. Granted, discretely purchasing bottled blood had helped a bit, but it wasn't the same. It wasn't as satisfying as the sick crack of snapping bones to draw out the marrow, or wet ripping of muscle from bone.

That is, perhaps, why she is not more careful. Usually, there is something of a method, moving away from her own areas, careful actions to remove herself from suspicion, should it ever arise. Typically the people were isolated, and she lived on the move, so simply leaving in the night was easy. Simpler. (Perhaps it was no wonder that Em had considered her a monster all the while, despite reassurances. ) Here, there was no escape, just Baedal and the fog, and careful considerations to be made before a target could be selected. Things here were different from home, issues twisted around, and surely in the past she'd never have gone after someone who sought to kill the monsters around them, because humans were the weak and the tormented.

It wasn't difficult to lure him to an ally, she had to admit.
He'd screamed, at first; a pathetic sound, all too eager to condemn others to death, but far from ready to face his own. Her hand wrapped round his throat, and she gained a vicious satisfaction from sending a paralytic fear through his system as darkness spilled across her eyes like ink through water. This was part of what the monster craved, the panic of the prey and it's own pleasure at the man's shaking; the brief promise of release, before her teeth tear out his throat.

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[norea]

After Hyde, she started to look at everyone she met a little differently. In him, she'd seen the most vicious kind of carnage, done purely for his pleasure, watched him turn a person into nothing more than an emotionally broken plaything from the excruciating pain inflicted, and then finally, destroy the shell that was left. She knew it was the demon, partially, but those impulses could be in anyone, anywhere. And if everyone had the potential to be a so-called monster, no one was really good, no one was really elevated above those impulses.

But being confronted with it still plainly disturbs her. There's no brushing it off, here--she's all emotion, all instinct, and the sound of the destruction of that man's body will echo in her mind for days. She is steady only because she has practice being steady; she steps forward. Despite her better judgment.

"One of them," she echoes, head tilted to the side. Her gaze is fixed on Jules and all that blood, and her own voice is very quiet; she's naturally a lower soprano, but it drops a half-octave, maybe from the shock. "So this--is this a punishment?"

[affections]

When next she speaks, it's still with that voice, the one which comes naturally when she's like this, when it takes focus to sound like a normal human being. (The rest of the time, the pretense comes easily. More easily, at least.)

"Candlelighter." As if that should be explanation enough, but she's ducking her head, taking a few steps back like somehow that'll make a difference, as if Hasibe won't see her anymore if she just keeps on retreating. That's what she does best, after all. Run from conflict, evade everything and hope for the best. She might be a monster (hybrid, there's a difference) but she's a coward, as well.

She crouches back down, and with that motion, the black retreats from her eyes and those extra rows of teeth disappear back into her gums. Jules keeps holding onto that arm, though, inspecting the ruined flesh without an ounce of pleasure. The feed is meant to be when the monster comes forward, and yet-- somehow, that desire has wilted in the face of discovery. The need for the flesh is still there, still pangs in her gut, but the mere thought of tearing flesh away with her teeth while a friend watches is too repugnant. "In theory. It's better than taking anyone that's just conveniently walking by." Flat, but definitely human-sounding again. Hurt and bitter and utterly jaded, and all human. "It's meant to be, at any rate."

[norea]

"I know what he was." It's not snappish, but--curiously absent-minded (one could wonder how she knows, or furthermore, what she's even doing in this area, even if the present subject of questioning is Jules). Hasi watches the shift back to 'normal', wondering if she can really classify it as that. Which Jules is the real one? She thinks it's probably some combination of the two, perhaps more so the woman she sees without the teeth and black-eyed monstrousness that reminds her, ever so slightly, of Mitchell, but certainly she did not anticipate this.

She can make this into a scene, or she can make it something useful.

Hasi stops where she is, able to discern the identity of the man in question--no one she really knew, and thus no one terribly influental in the organization, but she knows they're starting to get sick of losing men.

"When you've finished with--the body," she says, with an evenness that sounds terribly forced at first, but eventually steadies out, "you should dump the rest in the water. They'll find him, eventually, but it'll buy a little time."

There's a pause.

"Now doesn't seem an appropriate time to discuss this." Not with blood all over Jules' face, no. "But we will have to."

OH HIDEOUS I thought I replied to this forever ago D:

[affections]

This reaction, or really, any reaction that wasn't outright screaming from anyone save for another hybrid, was completely... disarming. Bizarre. She just stares at Hasi, ignores the bead of blood rolling down her jaw to hang in a slowly expanding string that stretches until it snaps.

A beat. Then another. Jules licks her lips, glances from Hasi to her meal, and takes a step backwards, slowly crouching to grab it by the shoulder. "You aren't screaming." Or making accusations, jumping to conclusions, which perhaps she should expect, given her ties with Mitchell. However, the differences between vampires (as far as she knew) and herself, was that a vampire could leave its victims living and breathing, where Jules tore them into bloody ribbons. Still, she's hardly eager to question it. This disturbance chews through time, and if she's been come across once, than a second time wouldn't be all so unlikely. (And on another note, she can't believe that she was this careless.)

Her gaze stays on Hasi, almost suspicious, and she drags the body a little deeper into the shadows, before her fingers tear through the skin of his chest, ripping down to his hips with practiced precision before her hand disappears into the cavern of his abdomen. A nervous challenge? Almost.