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InactivePermalink Reply by ✓ Rory Douma Avery on April 24, 2018 at 19:11

The first word out of his mouth was no; he was not going to show tonight despite being told otherwise, but Cornelia gave him no choice. He had not been with the faction for a long while now but since the moment he joined he was nothing but disagreeable and combative. Especially after finding out that the woman that once hunted him was the sister of the Nephilim ambassador. Throughout his life, he had escaped a great many things but the Bradford’s were the ones he seemed to keep running into rather than away and even though Cornelia made him stay he was still an enigma to the faction. Up until now, no one save Cornelia had seen him and he wanted to keep that way.

Had I had the power to have my way, you would only see me when the warriors were needed when it was time to fight. Yet here I was standing before my bathroom mirror trying to shave with the shakiness of my hands; I wish I could say after all those years of war I walked away unscathed and though my body looked just fine my mind was…. Was not mine anymore. I dropped the shaver in the sink, letting and listening to it rattle around after cutting myself for the twelfth time, huffing and closing mine eyes as I clutched the sink’s edge to steady everything about me that was moving and beating rapidly. I felt as though that alone had taken hours and I pondered how I would get through the night with the people and loud noises all around with my impulses, on a battlefield the response I would have to it all would be fine, appropriate but at this event… I shook my head. I not going.

The more he told himself he was not going the more he seemed to prepare for the night as if he was. He pressed, folded and wrapped his kilt around himself. Managed to finish shaving though since his face was already half shaven he finished more so to balance things than for the meeting and before he knew it he was walking out the confines and safety of the abandoned church he called a home. Taking three physical steps forward for every mental step back he made before just stopping and staring up at the faction building, telling himself to turn around and go home, but instead with a steadying breath headed inside.

I had been here for nought but a minute before a chilling voice ran down mine spine. I had not heard it so close up before but I knew whose it was well enough. I took a calming breath before glowering down at her, purposefully softening my face and eyes once my eyes fell upon her. I gave her a scrupulous look shaking my head ever so faintly, pretending, playing a fool as if I knew not whom she was and what she was speaking of “I believe you have me mistaken.” I gave her faint demure smile, clinked my beer bottle to hers and with a curt nod excused myself as I moved as far away from her as possible. Calmly I slipped through the crowd and headed towards the door, but was stopped by the start of the meeting, trapping us both in here on opposite ends of the room. I took another steadying breath, praying I stayed calm enough, far enough away from her and most of all that I was not introduced tonight as the newest member of the faction because there was not a doubt in my mind that she knew my name, and everything else about me.

NephilimPermalink Reply by ✓ Clarissa Bradford ~Admin~ on April 28, 2018 at 21:26

The reception hall began to fill, faces after faces would continue to follow the other until a rather noticeable queue for the bar formed; Clarissa was unaware of the masses that formed her faction. Maybe she was extremely naive with the sense of belonging that she automatically assumed that the faction only consisted of those she interacted with; and that was not even a small handful compared to crowd she stood in. Maybe they were recruiting more members? A ‘You should join us’ so to speak. Whatever the meeting was called for, she found herself completely and utterly distracted, and to be frank, bamboozled. The meeting held little significance for her before she even walked through the front doors, but now, mentally, she definitely wasn't completely present and for that sake, she hoped Cornelia wouldn't ask her to speak; as for now, her evening gave her something much more exciting. She knew not if the redheaded man was real yet but she still felt a sort of adrenaline pump through her veins. A feeling she hadn't felt in a long, long time - real or not she knew she wanted to rid him of her conscious or subconscious mind; and her mind gave her a series of interesting methods to do so.

Oh how her inner, and forgotten, assassin rejoiced.

Clarissa could feel his eyes upon her, analysing her in an attempt to prove that he didn't know her; she snorted at that until he dismissed himself after clinking his beer bottle with her own. “Oh, I very much doubt that, Firecracker.” She mused softly, she knew and remembered all of her prey. She kept a journal of their names and how they met their demise. If any other police authority found this log book, she knew her sister had no power in freeing her.  She allowed the liquid to bypass her tongue once more to overcome the shock that her body was experiencing. As he walked away, she watched a few others glance at him which had never happened with previous encounters with her successful victims; that confirmed his status. Lavender flecked eyes took in his demeanour, wandering from his fire like hair to his boots and she slowly shook her head. “He still wears that bloody skirt.” She laughed internally to herself, she could only assume he wore such a thing as it gave him freedom of movement if and when it came to an unpredicted altercation; she refused to believe he wore it simply for fashion. But who was she to judge, as the judgement came from a woman who only wore black.

The familiar sound of her sister’s voice rang in her ears as she announced that the meeting had officially begun. Rissa removed herself from the bar to head towards the outer ring that formed around the small podium that Cornelia stood upon; in fact, she positioned herself in the right position to be able to see him and for him to be able to see her. Rissa offered a small wave to Siobhan who stood a few people down the line; glad to see that she turned up after the last few rather dramatic weeks, and months. The words in which her sister spoke sounded as if she were underwater due to the lack of attention Clarissa had for them; it was like everything was in fast motion but her and her prey were in slow; every now and again, she would glance between him and Cornelia, as for now, they were the most important people in the room. Rissa knew all too well what the consequences were if a Nephilim hurt a fellow Nephilim, thus she knew she would need to keep her game on the downlow for a long time.

She thought back to when she was eighteen years old when she was given the mission of ridding the world of Rory Avery, how she tracked him down to church and how, at first, she raided his place of residency to gather as much intel as she could before making her first move. The fresh faced Clarissa Bradford came across nothing worth of value besides something that caught her eyes for nothing more than vanity; a red jeweled necklace that looked significant in his life and something worth of value if she wished to sell it - yet she couldn’t do such a thing once the pads of her fingers ran across it. To this day, over ten years later, she continued to wear the necklace which made a devious glint, shimmer within her eyes as at long last, she made eye contact with him. Quickly taking the opportunity, with her free hand, she reached up to the base of her neck and grasped the necklace by the chain and with a gentle movement she made the red stone swing from side to side.

Clarissa only hoped that from where he was standing, he would see what she was doing; and she was sure, once he did, his reaction would be enough satisfaction for one evening - until the next round. That was, of course, if he didn’t get pulled up to introduce himself.

InactivePermalink Reply by ✓ Rory Douma Avery on May 18, 2018 at 1:48

If there was one thing Rory regretted in his life than anything thing else it was losing that ruby necklace, he had not the honour of meeting his parents, only ever heard stories from the priest and nuns that raised of their brave sacrifice. That necklace was all he had of them, the only thing that was not just a story but was actually tangible, graspable, but since he lost it, it had become like everything else about them. Just another story, a memory that like all others hurt to think about. He thought he lost it on the battlefield one day tore the field apart just to look for it, when in fact it was stolen by one of his comrades who later felt bad but rather than tell him he took it or even lie and say he found slipped it into a pocket of his army pack. If he knew it had made it to Evermore with him he would have never taken it off or let alone let it out of his sight. 

I feel Clarissa's steady gaze on me as I purposely ignored her, forcing myself to focus on the meeting and laying in wait for the prime opportunity to make my escape. As the minutes passed though I could begin to hear the clicking of the clock as the seconds melted away and people thought I was crazy for hiding away and saying people wanted me dead. I was not crazy there was actually another Nephilim in this world that wanted me dead. Who has for years. I let a sharp breath from my nose as I looked away from where everyone was looking to collect myself before looking back again until I bright gleam swinging in the distance caught my attention. I, at first, just looked to spot what the distraction was but once my eyes focused on the swinging necklace I know found that i could look away. Like a hypnotist swinging there charm to hypnotize their "victim," my eyes stayed glued on the jewel even far after the swinging had stopped. I was well aware of those near me wondering what or who I stared at, some speculating that I might be staring at her chest but all my emerald eyes saw was that ember stone hanging from her neck.

At that moment it was as if the world around him had faded, all he saw was the necklace and soon his blood boiled, numbed him, enraged him, heated him up and clogged his ears. He was so caught up that he did not even notice he name had been called out to welcome him to the faction. They were not calling him up to speak thankfully because there was no way in hell any of them could get him up there. It was not until a random Neph was taking his hand to shake it and welcome him that he broke his gaze away from his necklace and focused on what was happening presently. Greeting a few people with a forced, fake smile but keeping a watchful eye on Clarissa full aware of the fact she now knew he was Rory Avery the one person to ever escape her alive, as they had announced his name. He waltzed around the floor as everyone began to socialize once again, smoothly avoiding Clarissa like two magnets pushing each other away: one misstep from her and Rory would vanish just like he had in the past.

NephilimPermalink Reply by ✓ Clarissa Bradford ~Admin~ on May 26, 2018 at 12:51

It was almost as if she could hear the soft ‘tick tock’ everytime the necklace around her neck swayed from side to side. The soft movements of the sway was extremely soothing and it was easily understood how something like this could make one go into a trance - however, it was not the clear rhythm of the gem that gave her satisfaction; it was the idea of the war which it would start within his bloodstream that pleased her. Once she had attained his attention, she slowly stopped the necklace from dancing before allowing it fall and rest peacefully at the base of her neck as the speeches began. Clarissa groaned internally, she knew what her sister could be like and she hoped that the speeches would be short and sweet; for Rissa had better places to be. Her lavender flecked eyes roamed the room once she pulled them away from Mister Avery and it infuriated her that her twin, Isaiah did not attend. She muttered under her breath as she planned giving him sweet hell for allowing her to attend something like this alone. Every now and again, she found her hands meet in a series of claps as they introduced new members and just some of the achievements that their faction had accomplished in the last year.

Once the speeches were over, she moved over to the bar once more and ordered herself a beer or four because she truly needed them. With a beer in hand she turned her back to the bar, leaning back upon it as she watched Rory meet and greet fellow faction members; the sight alone made her smile, an amused exhale bypassing her lips as it was very obvious that he was trying his best to ignore her and to not make eye contact. Oh how wished she could overly pretend to be his friend in front those in the reception hall, however, she believed that would be too much for those that know her; she was never that friendly. That notion was supported by the fact she had not spoken to a soul, not even her sibling since she arrived at the meeting; and she didn't intend to. The beers that she ordered didn't last long, the liquids soon found themselves running down the back of her throat and into the depth of her stomach. Once the last bottle found the countertop, Clarissa shook her body a little and decided she needn't be here any longer; a hostess went to grab her leather jacket as Rissa went to say her goodbyes to Cornelia and Siobhan.

Muscular shoulders shrugged on her jacket, delicate fingers removed the strands of hair which got caught between the jacket and her back before she weaved her way through the crowds; which were getting louder as alcohol continued to be served. Clarissa could not pass Rory without some comment so she diverted her path for a split second so that her fingers could just brush his broad shoulder; her lips moving ever so softly so her voice could murmur a small string of words. “I will see you soon, Mouse” Despite knowing he wouldn't make direct eye contact with her, she couldn't help but wink at him before vacating the building. She knew her evening plans would now change; she would follow him to see where he had been hiding all this time since arriving in Evermore, thus, she found herself lurking within the comforting shadows waiting for him to emerge.

InactivePermalink Reply by ✓ Rory Douma Avery on August 9, 2018 at 17:10

There are moments in life in which we can all relate to each other. Moments of regret, moments of despair, moments of great loss and sadness, even moments of hate. It is here, in a moment of both regret and despair that people might have found Rory actually relatable. That necklace that swung around Clarissa's neck was not just a family heirloom, it was, in fact, the only he had of his parents. It was the only thing that told him he had been loved, that he was thrown away or forgotten. Even when the nuns and priest that raised him told him how his parents loved him how they loved him it was the necklace that to him confirmed that as true. It ate away at him, the idea that Clarissa of all people had such a precious thing of his; he had not even the slightest idea of how she had gotten because he was sure he had lost it at war and suddenly a shivered rattled down his spine. A shiver that those around him seemed to notice "excuse me." He said through the husk of his voice his heavy accent saturating the air. She, without even doing anything directly had gotten him to do something he always tried to avoid doing and that was recall his time as a soldier, recall those vial memories of war. 

I need to get out of here, I needed air, I needed to escape before I did something I would regret. Yet, I froze right before I could get out as an icy voice crept up my spine and held me in place. I stared straight keeping a phlegmatic look about my face. Tightening my jaw before I found I could move again. I sighed in relief that she was gone but could feel my lips pull down in a slightly frustrated frown. She had my necklace. I HAD TO GET IT BACK! But, how? Admittedly she was more skilled at hunting than I, so what was I to do? I stood outside and stared up at the night's stars in the thought of this. The only way it seemed to get it was to get in close to her and that... That was not something I should do. I was not the smartest man but I knew better than to get close to her. 

He stood there a moment longer before beginning to walk, clearly lost in thought but not enough to be oblivious to his surroundings. He was a sceptic, after all, most would categories him in with the alien enthusiast and anti-gov'ment blokes who raved about them watching their every move. Of course, there was more than met the eye with this story though, while I could not tell you why the others believe the gov'ment was after them and wore tinfoil hats to protect themselves from an alien probe I could tell you exactly why Rory lived in an abandoned church. It goes back to being raised in one, a church was his first home and to this day the only place he still felt safe. He stared at the abandoned building a sad smile playing at the edges of his mouth as he walked in. He looked around, letting his hand graze against the stained glass that still remained here. Closing his eyes and just taking a deep breath wishing he could recall a time in which there was peace in his life. Except he huffed as he opened his eyes because that time for him really did not exist. Just came and faded in faint moments throughout his childhood. Those memories holding one thing in common, the church he lived in. So here he was miles away from Scotland still living in a church because he found it helped keep him grounded and sane, while the rest of the world found it insane. Perspective was a fickle mistress... 

NephilimPermalink Reply by ✓ Clarissa Bradford ~Admin~ on August 22, 2018 at 18:42

The shadows engulfed her, suffocating her form as she became one with the darkness; her back pressed up against the brick wall of the building opposite the hotel and her head using the brick as support. She had never been a fan of bumping into ghosts of her past, especially ones that made her feel inadequate or a failure to those she was trying to impress; and this redhead did exactly that. Whilst she waited, her overactive mind returned back to the day when she returned back to The League’s Headquarters, the moment after she realised Rory was long gone, that she had lost all traces of him to finish up the League’s vendetta against him and his way of life; her vibrant purple tinted eyes closed as she remembered the harsh words which were coated in venom which were spat her way - the way in which her tutor, Lachlan scowled her and trained her harder than ever; the beatings were something she had never endured before. Just the mere memory caused the Nephilim to curl her fingers just to dig her nails into the palms of her hands in an attempt to pull her back to the present day. Of course, she was angry and upset that this male caused her to go through such torture but she was, in fact, grateful for him slipping through her fingers; for she learnt a lot from this one particular failure. Clarissa would even thank him - and she made a mental note that she would - as he was the reason as to why she came one of the top Assassins.

Clarissa took a rather deep inhale, before exhaling it out as she turned on her side to keep her eyes upon the entrance of the hotel; she had to remain alert as many of her fellow faction members were coming and going, nevermind the general public who wished to stay at the hotel as guests. Despite having to learn how to be patient when it came to things like this, it was one virtue that Rissa truly struggled with; so much so that she began to pick at the cuff of her leather jacket, and her tongue clicked against the back of her teeth - however, she doubted he would be much longer, back when she knew every single thing about him, she knew social gatherings like this weren’t something he enjoyed. “C’mon Avery, I’m getting bore--” About time, the red headed Nephilim finally emerged, causing her to take a curious step forward. In this moment in time, she didn’t really know what she wanted to do with him - she had developed as a person since arriving in Evermore, and the natural instinct to kill had simmered down, yet her old self still resented the fact he lived. For now, she would get great satisfaction in toying with him, like a cat would a mouse.  

Her head tilted as she watched him come to stand still, staring up at the night sky; she wondered what was going through his head right now before she began her prowl only to find him approach yet another abandoned church. “Creature of habit” Rissa muttered to herself as she hid behind a tree, she glanced up at the wonder of the building, the field that surrounded it before approaching and investigating some of the graves which loitered around the Gothic building once he entered the church. The pad of her index finger traced the engraved name upon the stone as she slowly inched her way closer; she used each tombstone as a way to bide time to think of what to do next. Clarissa rolled her lips together in thought and crouched down to pick up a medium sized rock before storming towards the grand wooden doors of the church; slowly, and as silently as she could she opened the doors and rolled the rock through them. The echoes of the rock hitting and skidding the ground rang through the church's walls which caused the assassin to smile before she stepped inside. “Yoohoo, anyone home?” She taunted flirtatiously.

InactivePermalink Reply by ✓ Rory Douma Avery on December 28, 2018 at 19:19

All the leaks and creaks about the church ticked and tocked in a rhythm that plagued his mind of all the repairs still undone in this place. Yet every step forward seemed to cannon into two steps back resulting in him feeling like he had gotten nowhere though that was far from the case. He let out a defeated sigh as his mind stormed letting the familiar sounds of the church lull him to sleep. Many might have been concerned about Clarissa coming, following, hunting and while he was no different he was a little less paranoid about her following him here. This was his territory his turf and if there were one positive from being born in the middle of a violent turf war was he knew how to protect his land. In turn, knowing how to protect himself, as crazy as he may have seemed to people this was something he knew he was not out of his mind about. He knew Clarissa lived in Evermore and the paranoid voice in the back of his head convinced him she would come for him and while his friends, if he had any, might have laughed, scoffed and scorned him to shame he would have in this one night proved them all wrong. Yet, of course, he had no friends, no family, no one... No one to miss him, mourn him or care.

My heavily depressed thoughts came to a sudden halt as the sounds of thud and scratch barreled in and interrupted the natural melody of the sounds of the church. I cocked my head to the opening my eyes and sitting upright listening to see what the next sound might come. Trying to figure out what just saved me from me, my mind. As silent as the night, I rose and stuck to the shadows from above. Peering down upon the pews of the sanctuary until Clarissa came into view. My parents necklace still swinging from her neck. "One more step and you will have hit a landmine," I warned from above like the phantom in his opera, moving from that spot to another heavily shadowed spot above. "I only warn because you have what is mine and if I am to ever get it back I need you not blown up." I bellowed from above once more before making myself known to her. Letting the stained glass windows that were illuminated by the moonlight grace my skin. "So you have found me. Now what?" 

NephilimPermalink Reply by ✓ Clarissa Bradford ~Admin~ on January 18, 2019 at 21:01

It didn't surprise her that he didn't present himself straight away after she called out to see if anyone was home; despite knowing very well that he was somewhere in this abandoned church. In her time in Evermore, she had driven passed this church on multiple of occasions but never once, and never in a million years would she have chosen, out of choice to ever visit. The pads of her finger tips dragged across the chilled and rather damp brickwork which indicated the churches neglect for many years, her eyes caught sight of a few broken windows, which consequently allowed water to continuously drip onto the floor. In any other circumstance for anyone else, they would have left straight away; it was like a scene out of a horror movie, an evil lair where a poor individual would likely meet their end. Yet with Clarissa she had seen a lot worse, and for an Angel child, maybe she felt a sense of home, however, despite her relation with the angels, she would never have been accepted as one with her livelihood; but to see Rory picking this place for a home, despite his history, it was a very good choice to stay off her radar for a whole decade. In fact, maybe it even infuriated her that she didn't even try to find him in such venues and that he was so close to home for such a long time; after all, it wasn't like she ever forgot about him, he was the one that got away.

With every step, she was conscious of what could happen - Rissa had realised that she was now in his territory that, in many senses, he did have the power to take her down; and if he was, in the 10 years still under the impression she would come for him before tonight, extra precautions would've been taken. Thus, when his voice finally chimed, and echoed throughout the cold walls of the church, she was not surprised that her next step could indeed introduce her to her own demise; how ironic would it be to die at the hands of her prey. Lavender glistened eyes narrowed slightly in the direction where his voice was coming from and of course he decided to stay in the shadows for a little while longer; why? She had no idea, it wasn't like she didn't know what he looked like. Maybe he did it for effect, to show her that it was he who was currently in control. Clarissa crossed her arms over her chest as she stood in the very vulnerable position of the said landmine on the next pavement slab; however, the reason why she did move was purely out of the idea that maybe she could threaten him with it, if it was a landmine in the first place. Although, if she recalled, Rory was not a violent individual and would much rather resolve their issues over mead and bread.

In all honesty, she had not thought that far ahead - she had no idea what she was going to do now that she had located him; but she knew that she didn't want to kill him straight away, she would want some fun with him first. Rissa wanted to toy with him, she wanted to make him regret ever running and slipping through her fingers; but how? Clarissa tilted her head as he finally came into view, her lips rolling in thought. “You really have lived long enough without it, don't see why you would want it now” She shrugged, her gaze dropped to the jewel around her neck. “It's never left my neck, a part of you has always been with me” A smirk found the corner of her lips as she tried to make the rather creepy remark, sentimental. Clarissa clicked her tongue against the rough of her mouth as she decided to ignore his question about her next move. “Dare I even ask how long you have been living this close without me even getting an inkling that you've been here?” She tilted her head, rolling an index finger to beckon him closer. “Don't worry, tonight isn't the night I finally get you, we'll have some fun together before that”