[Noah St Cloud]

[nospaces]

[break][break][break]

[attr="class","NoahLpostlyric"]Stopping to smell the roses has given others[break]
the chance to catch your scent[break]

[break]

[attr="class","NoahLpostingbox"][break]

OOC: sorry this is a little long and rambly! Let me know if you'd like any changes c:[break][break]

---

[break][break]

There was that strange feeling in his ribs again. A sort of lightness to them, as if they had become hollow like the bones of a bird. And with the sensation came the ability to know where the people in his life were.[break][break]

Noah sighed, fingers tapping against the steering wheel as he drove out from the main city and back towards his neighbourhood. The clairvoyance (more like a tracking sense than an all-encompassing omniscience) was one of the weirdest, most random abilities he borrowed. Not because of the nature of the gift. No, it was simple enough to understand and not staggeringly unique. Pretty useless to him, really, though it was nice to be able to check in on Tawny. Usually in her apartment. Or at work. Once or twice at a bar or café where he could then bump into her and take her home…[break][break]

At any rate, what was strange about the gift was that he had no idea whom it belonged to. He tried to focus his thoughts on the general idea of them, hoping their gift would lead the way, but it seemed he needed to know their face for it to work. There would be no hunting them down to tell them to quit it. Or to ask whether they might like to join Blackstorm. Or both. He could only hope that it was as annoying for them as it was for him; that he was like an intrusive thought, slipping into their head, snatching the gift away when they were trying to use it to locate someone else. [break][break]

Once or twice they’d interrupted him while he’d been borrowing different gifts. Knocked them right out of his hands and shoved theirs into him instead. The culprit remained elusive. Irritating. Almost as much as that gifted who’d scarred his side and gotten away with it –[break][break]

He blinked rapidly, lips parting.[break][break]

Oh. There she was.[break][break]

As soon as she’d entered his head he got the vague impression of somewhere earthy. Sunlight filtering through leaves. Birdsong. Woods. Los Eurosia’s National Forest. If someone laid a map in front of him, he’d be able to point at her exact coordinates without hesitation. [break][break]

A disbelieving huff of a laugh escaped his lips. He swiftly switched lanes, no longer following the usual route to his abode. He’d searched for her, after he’d healed. Frequently returned to the spot where she’d attacked him and thereafter visited places he imagined would appeal to someone who loved plants. He’d even spent a couple of soul-sapping weeks lingering around S.C. University’s campus, forced to endure being approached by oblivious, arrogant kids who weren’t old enough to drink yet; she’d looked to be that age. [break][break]

Yet his efforts had been fruitless. From her reaction when they first met, he grudgingly came to the conclusion that she’d hightailed it out of town, terrified of running into him again. And he’d been coming to peace with that! Almost ready to accept that she’d slipped through his clutches and would never be seen again. [break][break]

Until now. [break][break]

The tracking sense proved his theory wrong, and he mentally kicked himself for not having realised sooner that he could use it to find her. Maybe she wasn’t such a coward after all. Maybe, a year after they’d met, she’d plucked up the courage to come back.[break][break]

Or maybe she’d never left at all. Because she felt safe. Because she thought she’d killed him. [break][break]

His grip tightened on the steering wheel, his lips tugging mirthlessly into a darker smile as he pressed down on the accelerator. He would be more than happy to prove her wrong. With the homing gift, he would find her as surely as a compass pointed north. The woods would be a good place for her to die. Lots of cliffs she could stumble off and rivers she could fall into. He could make it look like an accident as long as he covered his (literal) tracks.[break][break]

Tawny would disapprove. [break][break]

His smile faltered. The thought of her seeing his actions and recoiling almost made him reconsider. He cared about her. He knew that now. He cared very much about her wellbeing and her opinions of him. But… she wasn’t always available to him. And at those times he needed projects to occupy himself with. Little distractions to stop him from ruining their tentative ‘relationship’ by appearing too clingy and kicking her door down. If finding the person who’d almost killed him and ‘roughing them up a little’ prevented him from doing that, she’d understand, right? She knew he liked a fight. And – fine – he supposed he could compromise. He wouldn’t trek through the forest with the intent to murder some helpless kid. He would simply… seek justice. And if plant-girl was as flighty as last time – if she attacked him first–[break][break]

Well, anything he did in retaliation would be self-defence, wouldn’t it?[break][break]

Fifteen minutes later, he'd parked his car on a dirt track surrounded by trees, out of sight from the main road. She wasn’t too far away. Good; it would be a shame to trek through the woods for hours and be worn out by the time he found her. Bad; the road was close enough that she might decide to run for it and there was a small chance someone could drive by, a kind stranger with no misgivings about helping an apparent damsel in distress.[break][break]

He stalked carefully through the brush, watching his step to ensure he didn’t step on any dry twigs or leaves that might betray his presence. He could feel he was getting closer and his heartbeat quickened with a familiar, building exhilaration. He hoped she would fight. He hoped she would run. [break][break]

And there she was. A glimpse of autumnal red amongst the swathes of greenery, less than a hundred yards away. He froze, holding his breath, as he watched the girl who’d attacked him delicately pick her own way through the woods. He’d forgotten how slight she was. How young… It had been difficult to match that image to her when he'd been bleeding out on the concrete. Stupid kid. She was about to learn that actions had consequences. [break][break]

It was a shame he’d established that he couldn’t attack her outright. [break][break]

He resumed his slow creep forward, manoeuvring more squarely behind her with his muscles coiled and ready to dive one way or another if she suddenly shot vines at him like last time. Maybe it wasn't so wise to approach her in an area overflowing with plant life. But then again, all it would take was one little cut for that gift of hers to be his. [break][break]

Once he was close enough to hopefully freak her out, he leant against a tree and relaxed his posture, just watching her for a moment and sizing her up until finally deciding he was ready.[break][break]

“Hi there,” he called out, though he barely had to raise his voice at all for it to reach her. He was grinning so hard it hurt his cheeks and once he had her attention he wiggled his brow. “Long time no see.”

[break][break]

[attr="class","NoahLPostTag"]Tag: Seth Perry

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[googlefont=Mr Dafoe:400|Roboto:400,400i,700]

[Seth Perry]

Isn't it strange that a gift could be an enemy?
Isn't it weird that a privilege could feel like a chore?

---

Today was absolutely gorgeous. As Seth walked through the forest slowly, she let her hand trail along the bark of a tree. This tree was old, and it stood taller than the surrounding trees. She watched a squirrel run up its trunk, shaking the leaves when it reached the branch it was destined for. She smiled and continued her walk.

Seth was used to the silence of the forest and the solitude that had settled over her life. Today, she was struggling with the loneliness of it all. She was usually content with her camp, with being able to fend for herself out here, but there were still days that she longed to have Jason here with her. It had been a little over a year since his disappearance. She knew that she was avoiding thinking about the truth, the fact that he was probably dead. If he was still alive, still out there somewhere, he would have at least contacted her by now, wouldn’t he?

Pulling out her phone from her pocket, Seth tapped the screen. Jason’s smiling face still greeted her when the screen lit up. She used her thumbprint to unlock the phone, and opened her contacts. Her finger hovered over Jason’s name. After a few seconds, she sighed and hit the button on the side of her phone instead, locking the screen and slipping the phone back into her pocket.

A voice called out from behind her. So close to her. Seth spun around, and was face to face with the same hunter she’d run into shortly after arriving in Los Eurosia. He was leaning against the tree behind her, looking extraordinarily pleased with himself. A cold chill ran down Seth’s spine. She thought the forest would be safe from danger, that the hunters wouldn’t find her out here. She was wrong.

She vividly remembered their last encounter. She’d left him bleeding, unable to chase after her. But he had done something to her. She hadn't been able to use her gift for some time after that. How he’d managed that, she had no idea.

Immediately, she tested to be sure she still had control of her gift. The roots near the hunter’s feet started to move. She backed away, slowly and steadily. She was going to run, to get away from him, but she had to make sure he wouldn’t be able to follow.

”Not long enough…” She spoke quietly, voice shaking with the fear she was trying to push down. She could do this, she could protect herself from this man.

She intended for the roots to tangle around his foot, to trap him or at least slow him down, but she was unsuccessful. She was going to have to rely on her vines.

Without wasting any more time, Seth shot thorny vines toward him, willing them to wrap around him and contain him, but something was wrong, something wasn’t going right. She tried again, and realized whatever he’d done the last time, he did again.

”Shit.” Her eyes widened with the realization, and Seth knew it was time to run. Even without being able to use her gift to stop him, she knew this forest, she’d been spending most of her days here for the past year. She was hopeful that she could lose him behind her easily enough, and she headed deeper into the forest.

---

Noah St Cloud
Let me know for changes any changes or if I made too many assumptions!

[Noah St Cloud]

[nospaces]

[break][break][break]

[attr="class","NoahLpostlyric"]Stopping to smell the roses has given others[break]
the chance to catch your scent[break]

[break]

[attr="class","NoahLpostingbox"][break]


Green eyes wide with panic, the girl whipped around to face him and Noah met her stare greedily, all-too eager to drink in the sight he’d waited a whole year for. It warmed him, to watch as any shred of security she’d held drained away. His heart continued to thump at its anticipatory tempo but he didn’t move an inch as she took her first steps backwards. Her voice shook. His grin widened. It was all so immensely satisfying. And they hadn’t even reached the revenge part yet![break][break]

Like the first time she was still brave (or stupid) enough to attempt fighting him. He felt the ground vibrate as nearby roots moved towards him and he tensed, preparing to dive away before they could wrap around his ankles. If she intended to trap him, he doubted the switchblade in his pocket would be able to cut through the thickest roots quick enough for him to prevent her from escaping. But whatever she had intended, it seemed to fail. Perhaps she was not quite strong enough to lift the roots out from under layers and layers of compressed dirt. Perhaps plants had a will of their own and the old trees were stubborn and harder to control – questions he could have asked her, if she hadn't been so determined to be difficult.[break][break]

She launched another attack, this time performing a move he was more familiar with. She was fast. Despite having expected it, when he shoved away from the tree to dodge the thorny vines she shot at him, some still hit their mark – one curling around his arm, another finding his leg, sharp enough to slice through the fabric of his clothes and scratch his skin. The old scar on his side tingled, his flesh seeming to remember the last time he’d faced her and wanting to remind him, too, that it wasn’t a grand idea.[break][break]

But with the scratches came the power. It surged into him, replacing the previous lightness of the clairvoyance with a cool sensation akin to standing in the shade of a leafy canopy. A faint scent of petrichor… The vines around his limbs slackened. She swore, realisation visibly thundering across her features, and he held her gaze smugly. That’s right, sweetheart. What’s the plan now?[break][break]

She bolted. [break][break]

He laughed, the sound echoing through the trees. “Hey! That wasn’t very polite!” He tugged himself completely free from the remaining tendrils. “Don’t you know how to say hello?”[break][break]

Did she truly expect to outrun him? On those little legs? He chuckled and shook his head to himself, carefully stepping over the roots that had meant to hinder him. He would give her half a minute as a head start. Let her wear herself out. She was sure to leave an obvious trail in her haste to scramble away and he was in no rush; it was a glorious day and he’d made no commitments.[break][break]

Though… if he waited for too long she’d get her gift back. And part of him wondered if there would be other hikers around, taking advantage of the sunshine. Had she come to the woods with someone? Was she running to them for aid? And he didn’t have the tracking gift anymore. If she hid well enough, maybe he would lose her.[break][break]

“Shit,” he echoed her previous statement, and took off running in pursuit.[break][break]

He tried to cast out his senses, hoping to find a root or a bramble in her path that he could raise to trip her, but there was plant life everywhere; he struggled to home in on a single organism. “Y’know, I seem to remember telling you to be careful with how you use your gift!” How did he throw vines at her last time? He’d missed, obviously; he’d had no idea what he was doing and his aim had been laughably bad when he was in pain. She might not have even seen him do it – but how did he do it? “I see subtlety is still lost on you!”


[break][break]

[attr="class","NoahLPostTag"]Tag: Seth Perry

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[googlefont=Mr Dafoe:400|Roboto:400,400i,700]

[Seth Perry]

Isn't it strange that a gift could be an enemy?
Isn't it weird that a privilege could feel like a chore?

---

As Seth fled from the hunter, she wondered how he’d found her. Did he spot her the last time she went into town and follow her? Wouldn’t she have noticed that? She was so paranoid about being found. However, lately, she’d felt safer than she had since before Jenna went missing. She’d been hiding out in Los Eurosia for a little over a year and aside from the first incident with this particular man, she hadn't had any other encounters with hunters. Maybe it was a false sense of security that had somehow made her make a careless mistake.

At first, she had been headed in the direction of her camp, but she realized that was probably a mistake. She veered, instead, toward the river. It meant she had to loop back on the path a bit, but when she glanced around she didn’t see the hunter. She briefly considered trying to make it to John, but she didn’t want to bring danger to his doorstep either.

Even though she couldn’t see him, Seth could hear the man laughing at her, and calling after her. Chiding her for being impolite, for not saying hello. Was he for serious?

Seth rounded a large tree that had fallen what seemed like many years ago. The large trunk was big enough for her to duck behind and try to catch her breath a moment. She was quick on her feet, but she wasn’t used to running for long periods. Her lungs ached and her stomach cramped from the effort. It wasn’t long before Seth could hear him calling out to her again, echoing the same statement he’d made to her the year before.

With another gasp in, Seth pushed herself back up. She had to keep moving, she couldn’t let him close the gap between them. If he caught her, he was going to kill her. She knew it. She wasn’t sure how she’d do it, but she was certain that she was about to die. Her only chance was to make it as far away from him as she could. She hoped he was unfamiliar with the forest and wasn’t good with navigation. Maybe then she’d stand a chance.

Before making it to the water’s edge, Seth had another stitch of pain in her side. She groaned and leaned over, trying to catch her breath again. Was it always this hard to run? She looked around in desperation, and came up with a new plan. She’d climb a tree and hide out above him.

There was only one problem. Without use of her gift, she wasn’t sure she could climb these trees. Her gift had always made it easy. She’d reach for a branch and it would move to meet her, or a small knot in the bark would appear for her to grab onto. These trees were old, and their lowest branches were far above her reach.

“I see subtlety is still lost on you!”

His voice was so much closer than she’d expected it to be. She had wasted too much time, and she was too exhausted to keep running through the woods. She needed a better plan, but nothing came to mind.

”I’m not fond of dying and doing nothing about it.” Seth called back. She thought she could already see movement and was sure she was out of time. If she tried to run again right now, she’d only make it a couple steps before folding over again. Maybe she could distract him long enough to get a second wind, or long enough to come up with an alternate plan.

---

Noah St Cloud
Let me know for changes.

[Noah St Cloud]

[nospaces]

[break][break][break]

[attr="class","NoahLpostlyric"]Stopping to smell the roses has given others[break]
the chance to catch your scent[break]

[break]

[attr="class","NoahLpostingbox"][break]


It was not graceful. Running through the woods was a regular occurrence for Noah (perhaps even enough to be considered a habit, part of a fitness routine) but he was used to the trails around his home in West Hook. Paths that were clear, or that he’d made clear by frequent visits. And usually he wasn’t chasing someone down as though his life depended on it.[break][break]

His stare flit rapidly across his surroundings as he ran, latching onto anything that could indicate which path the girl had taken. A scuff of dirt here. A strand of hair there. A small cluster of flattened grass patches. The visual confirmations were vastly appreciated, but truly he was relying on sound to follow her. Her footsteps thumping against the earth (light, far less audible to him than his own but too panicked to be completely silent), along with the occasional swish and rustle as she brushed past or through foliage – they would make his mission successful. [break][break]

There was a new sound though. One that was building. And a smell – the unique aquatic musk that belonged to running water. Was there a river up ahead? Good news for him if she couldn’t swim. He could corner her and have some fun threatening to dunk her head under. But he supposed a poor swimmer was unlikely to run towards water in their time of need. Maybe she hoped the rush of liquid over stone would cover the sounds of her running through the brush – because it was.[break][break]

He strained his ears for more movement. Slowed when he heard nothing besides the water. Had he lost her? Shit. Not now! She could disappear for another whole year! He’d learned nothing more about her in their second encounter. Nothing he could use to find her again without supernatural aid. Was she hiding? He needed her to make noise, needed that tracking sense back–[break][break]

”I’m not fond of dying and doing nothing about it!”[break][break]

Excitement sparked anew within him, a wave of relief beneath it. She was close, and he took off again in the direction of her voice while he called back, eager to keep her talking.[break][break]

“Who says you’re going to die?” Considering the context he imagined he didn’t sound very convincing. Especially since (had he not met Tawny) he very much would have been trying to murder her.[break][break]

Beneath his boots the terrain was shifting from leaflitter and grass to moss and dirt and stone. She really had ran towards the river.[break][break]

And there she was again. Bent over and panting. Found for the second time that day.[break][break]

As he’d hoped, she seemed to have worn herself out. He skidded to a halt as soon as she came into sight, holding up his hands slightly with a breathless, pleased smile on his face. She was only ten metres or so away. So close. “Easy there, tiger.” He licked his lips. “Let’s not do anything too hasty, okay?”[break][break]

“Right. How do I–” He flung out an arm towards her and a patch of nearby brambles responded, whipping out in her direction. They missed. Decidedly not wrapping around her limbs as he’d hoped and intended. The moss on the trees around him and on the ground between them, however, seemed to grow a few inches plusher, which of course did not help with his goal of entrapping and harming her.[break][break]

He blinked down at his arm and at the greenery blanketing the floor. “Huh.” He clucked his tongue, raising his eyes to narrow them at her. “We might have to do this the old-fashioned way.” Using her own gift against her was a very poetic idea but, failing that, his knife would do the job just fine. Without further preamble he strode towards her, ready to lunge and either pull her to him or tackle her to the ground if she tried to bolt again.


[break][break]

[attr="class","NoahLPostTag"]Tag: Seth Perry

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[googlefont=Mr Dafoe:400|Roboto:400,400i,700]

[Seth Perry]

Isn't it strange that a gift could be an enemy?
Isn't it weird that a privilege could feel like a chore?

---

What had she been thinking? As soon as she’d spoken, she could hear him approaching faster. Maybe the rustling branches she’d seen hadn't been him, and she’d just given away where she was. As much as Seth wanted to take off, she was finding too hard to even catch her breath to think about it.

”Who says?” She echoed. ”Are you kidding me?” The hunters had probably killed Jenna and Jason. They definitely killed their parents. And now, he was asking why she thought she was going to die? The absurdity of his question was enough to confuse her for a second. It had to be a trick, intended to do just that to her. To make her pause so he could catch up.

It seemed to be working.

When the hunter got close enough that they could see each other, Seth swallowed hard. This was it, she was going to die today. She was out of options, and too exhausted to keep going. Maybe it would be for the best. Maybe the world didn’t need her in it.

Then he started moving his arms. Was he using her gift? She made an attempt to shoot vines at him, but as expected, nothing happened. It couldn't be a coincidence, could it? This was the second time she’d ever met this man, and the second time she’d lost control of her own gift.

She was glad he’d missed. She was standing there figuratively rooted in place, wide eyed with realization. Was he going to try to kill her with her own gift? Seth’s sense of self preservation was kicking back in. It didn’t matter if she was exhausted, if her side hurt and her lungs felt like they were pulling in fire. It was better than being dead.

“We might have to do this the old-fashioned way.”

Seth felt goosebumps rise on her flesh. No. She wasn’t going to let him get her this easily. She moved to take off again, turning to continue her trek towards the river. She had to be faster than him, right? She was small but agile. She could do this. Except he was too close to her already, and the rock she stepped on was slick from the moss he’d just thickened.

”Shit!” She felt her foot slipping, but she regained her balance before she fell. It didn’t make much difference, though. It had slowed her down too much.

”I’m sorry, Jason…” She whispered, wishing he was here with her now. He would have been able to save her. He would have removed the air from this guy's lungs if he had to, anything to keep her safe.

---

Noah St Cloud

[Noah St Cloud]

[nospaces]

[break][break][break]

[attr="class","NoahLpostlyric"]Stopping to smell the roses has given others[break]
the chance to catch your scent[break]

[break]

[attr="class","NoahLpostingbox"][break]

OOC: he attacks! I moved Seth around quite a bit in this so let me know if you’d like it changed c:[break][break]

----

[break][break]

Although clearly winded the girl attempted to bolt again. Had she not immediately stumbled, slipping on moss and momentarily losing her balance, Noah might have respected her will to keep going. [break][break]

He darted forward to snake his arms around her waist. He could have sworn she’d whispered something but it made no difference to him; whatever prayers she made would reach no god’s ears. Only his.[break][break]

Smiling wide, he hoisted her up. Slammed her down onto her back. The urge to shout ‘K.O!’ was incredibly tempting and he had to bite his lip to muffle a laugh, mindful that his memory-surfing not-girlfriend could end up watching someday. It was all very precarious. Very risky. He had to be careful. How could he make it look like he wasn’t enjoying himself as much as he was?[break][break]

If the floor had been concrete he might have expected the girl’s head to split open. The moss, however, was a far more forgiving surface and he supposed it was better that way; a cracked skull would surely make her less talkative. He wasted no time swinging his leg over her body, straddling her before sitting back heavily on her stomach. Hopefully his body weight would be enough to keep her down.[break][break]

He snatched her wrists. Pinned her hands above her head. [break][break]

“Such naughty language,” he purred, and for a moment he did nothing. Simply watched and appreciated the sight of her trapped beneath him. Giving her the room to struggle as much as she liked. To realise how much weaker she was and how futile her efforts were.[break][break]

With a contented hum he moved her wrists together so he could grip them both in one fist, allowing his left hand the freedom to lift the hems of his sweater and shirt to reveal the lower half of his torso and the finger-length, horizontal scar on the side of his waist. “Look what you did,” he sighed, brows drawn together forlornly. “This scar – you gave me that. Not very nice of you, was it? Almost killed me. And for what? We hadn’t even introduced ourselves…”[break][break]

He released his clothes so that they covered his skin again, and he leant down closer to brush her hair out of her face. “C’mon,” he murmured softly. His thumb and finger gently grasped her chin, forcing her to look at him. “Tell me your name. Tell me you’re sorry.”


[break][break]

[attr="class","NoahLPostTag"]Tag: Seth Perry

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[newclass=.NoahLpostingbox a]font: 400 13px Roboto !important;[/newclass]

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[newclass=.NoahLPostTag a]color: #fff !important; font: italic bold 10px/100% 'Times', sans-serif !important;[/newclass]

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[newclass=.NoahLpostname]position: absolute;font:400 60px mr dafoe; letter-spacing:5px;color:#6f80a3;margin-top:5px;margin-left:110px;[/newclass]

[googlefont=Mr Dafoe:400|Roboto:400,400i,700]

[Seth Perry]

Isn't it strange that a gift could be an enemy?
Isn't it weird that a privilege could feel like a chore?

---

Panic filled Seth’s mind when he grabbed her, quickly sending her to the ground with a force that knocked the remaining air from her lungs as her body collided with the ground. He had a smile on his face that chilled her to the core, and she was certain this was going to be her last moment. She gasped to catch her breath as he pinned her there, his weight on her not making it any easier to get air back into her body.

Seth tried to wriggle free, but it was pointless. The more she struggled, the more tired she felt, and he wasn’t budging. Just as she moved to try to punch at him - the only other thing she could think to get him away - he grabbed hold of her wrists and pinned them up over her head. Her eyes were wide as she stared up at him, terrified that this was the end for her.

But then he chided her for her language. Confusion crossed Seth’s face as he watched her. She was still squirming, her feeble attempt to get out from under him. Was he playing with her? ”Go fuck yourself.” She spat out the words as tears started to blur her vision. She couldn’t get free from his grip, no matter how much she struggled against him.

He shifted, moving her hands together. She thought it might be a chance to get away, but his grip was still tight enough to keep both her wrists still in just one hand. He lifted his shirt, and Seth could see the scar he was pointing out to her. What she’d done to him the year prior. He said she almost killed him, and right now all she could think was that she wished she had succeeded.

He brushed her hair back and she winced, she wanted to turn away but his hand steadied her face and she couldn’t.

“Tell me your name. Tell me you’re sorry.”

Why was he doing this? Why didn’t he just kill her and get it over with? Seth was desperate to find a way out of this situation, but she wasn’t willing to go along with whatever twisted game he was playing.

”I’m not sorry.” More tears blurred her vision, she couldn’t turn away but she tried to focus on anything other than how close the hunter was to her face. ”If you’re going to kill me, just get it over with.”

---

Noah St Cloud

[Noah St Cloud]

[nospaces]

[break][break][break]

[attr="class","NoahLpostlyric"]Stopping to smell the roses has given others[break]
the chance to catch your scent[break]

[break]

[attr="class","NoahLpostingbox"][break]

(cw: Threat, a knife, and moving clothes without permission. Give me a nudge for any changes!)[break][break]

Tears gathered in her eyes. She squirmed and swore at him but her attempts to escape were weakening and he wondered how long it would take for the wetness in those eyes to spill over, for the last of her bravado to shatter as she broke into sobs that shook her entire body. He would savour each one. Taste the salt and fear. Draw them out until she could cry no more.[break][break]

Although she almost seemed to encourage him to kill her by asking him to get it over with (and the concept was alluring), he wouldn’t. He wasn’t allowed. And though it was all very lovely, trapping and distressing her after waiting so long for a single scrap of vengeance, it didn’t exactly provide him a justifiable excuse for hurting her. 'Self-defence' wouldn't be so easy to claim while she was unarmed and captured beneath him. [break][break]

Perhaps, if he closed his eyes while he did it, he wouldn't get in as much trouble? He would miss out on the exciting visuals but Tawny wouldn’t be able to see them either. But then again, would her imagination conjure up worse images than the reality?[break][break]

Whatever he wound up doing, he decided he wouldn’t tell the girl beneath him that he wasn’t going to kill her. Not yet, at least. He’d let the worry and terror build. Let her imagination run wild.[break][break]

“I understand,” Noah continued in the same soft murmur, gazing down at her intently. “I’ll tell you a secret: I don’t like apologising either.” His hand slipped away from her chin to stroke her cheek instead. Warm. From the exertion of trying to escape him, he supposed. “And honestly, even if you had said it, it wouldn’t have changed anything.” He tilted his head to watch his thumb brush across her freckled skin. “I’m not the type of person who forgives.”[break][break]

Still keeping her wrists enclosed in one fist, his other hand dropped to her middle and found the bottom of her top. Idle fingers played with its edge. “You will be sorry though.” He pushed the fabric upwards to expose her midriff, then reached into his pocket to retrieve his knife. “And I will hear it from you.”[break][break]

The blade flicked out from its sheathe with a barely audible click. Mostly matte black, the silver serrated edge caught the light and glinted prettily enough that he paused to admire it for a moment, turning it one way then the other. [break][break]

With a quick, coy glance back at her face, he then gently trailed the flat of the blade across her stomach, careful not to cut her – a move he had done plenty of times albeit with blunter knives and far more consenting partners.[break][break]

“Last chance to make your case,” he cooed. “You can tell me all the reasons I shouldn’t do this… all the people who might miss you and come looking… Or maybe, if you have any final wishes, I can do my best to grant them for you.” He lifted the knife from its leisurely, harmless stroll across her stomach to line up its serrated edge with the left side of her waist, not yet pressing it into flesh. He hummed. “Maybe using this isn’t fair… I should try to use your gift instead, right? Would you prefer that? Would it make you feel closer to nature?”[break][break]

He grinned. “Speak now or forever hold your peace.”



[break][break]

[attr="class","NoahLPostTag"]Tag: Seth Perry

[newclass=.NoahLpostingbox]background-color:#fff;color:#8d9295;text-align: justify; width:450px;padding:25px 45px 45px 45px;font: 400 13px Roboto;[/newclass]
[newclass=.NoahLpostingbox b]color:#6f80a3;[/newclass]
[newclass=.NoahLpostingbox a]font: 400 13px Roboto !important;[/newclass]

[newclass=.NoahLPostTag]float:right; margin-top:20px;width: 195px; background: #4c5884; background-image:url(https://i.imgur.com/tEQLti3.jpg);padding: 20px 15px; color: #fff; text-align: center; font: italic bold 10px/100% 'Times', sans-serif; letter-spacing: 5px;overflow:hidden;[/newclass]
[newclass=.NoahLPostTag a]color: #fff !important; font: italic bold 10px/100% 'Times', sans-serif !important;[/newclass]

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[newclass=.NoahLpostname]position: absolute;font:400 60px mr dafoe; letter-spacing:5px;color:#6f80a3;margin-top:5px;margin-left:110px;[/newclass]

[googlefont=Mr Dafoe:400|Roboto:400,400i,700]

[Seth Perry]

Isn't it strange that a gift could be an enemy?
Isn't it weird that a privilege could feel like a chore?

CW: dark themes/violence

---

As she lay in the dirt, pinned beneath the hunter, Seth wasn’t sure if she was more terrified or relieved that all of this was finally going to be over. She tried to convince herself that she was at peace, that she could die and it wouldn’t change anything. She was all alone, and she was tired of living in fear.

This isn’t what Jason would have wanted for her, he wouldn’t want her to just give up. He was the one who taught her how to fight, how to defend herself with her gift. It wasn’t working though. The hunter had done something, he’d taken it somehow. She didn’t have Jason to get her out of this situation.

The hunter seemed intent on toying with her, drawing this out. That horrified Seth more than just the thought of dying. How long was he going to play this game with her when they both knew how it was going to end?

His hands felt foreign on her skin, wrong. She turned her head away from him, but his fingers still trailed down her cheek. The tears she’d been doing her best to hold back were beginning to slide down in slow lines, creating glistening trails as they ran down her face. Even if Jason was still out there somewhere, she was never going to see him again. She wasn’t going to see her parents. Would they even know she was gone?

He confirmed that apologizing wouldn’t have helped her. Seth began to tremble beneath him, her fear mounting as he pushed up the hem of her shirt up, exposing skin on her abdomen. Seth kicked her legs, attempting to get a grip on the ground and push herself free. Until he pulled out the switchblade from his pocket.

The panic coursing through her intensified as Seth saw the hunter contemplate the blade in his hand. It was dark, it had a serrated edge to bite more viscously into its prey, his prey. He was a hunter and she was just his prey. Seth froze when she felt the cold of the metal touch her bare skin. Her breath came in fits and starts and her tears quickened, dampening her cheeks more thoroughly.

Seth listened to him taunting her. He was going to make her apologize, even though he’d already told her it wouldn’t make a difference in the outcome. Then, declaring it was her last chance, he stopped trailing the blade and held it steady, poised and ready to attack at any second.

”There’s no one..” She spoke in a hoarse voice, barely above a whisper. Her throat felt like it was raw after gasping for breath not long before. Her whole body ached now, and she didn’t know if it was from the tension that was continuing to build up or from being slammed to the ground. She knew wouldn’t feel anything soon, so whatever pain she felt now mattered very little.

Saying she had no one to miss her was only a small lie. She hadn't called her parents since arriving in Los Eurosia. For all she knew, they may have already assumed the worst. Jason was gone. There was no way she was going to mention them and potentially send hunters after them. They were human, but they had a gifted child. The best thing Seth could do for them was leave them out of it, keep them out of it. She regretted not learning what happened to him that day, but she suspected even given five more years it wouldn’t be long enough. There was no one else she could think of who might truly miss her. She was on friendly terms with the park ranger, but they didn’t know each other well, and he’d probably just assume she just up and left. It wasn’t like she was supposed to be living out here anyway.

The hunter continued on, saying how maybe it wasn’t fair. None of this was fair! But then he mentioned using her gift on her. Her eyes darted back to his, with terror and confusion written deep into her expression.

”You’re a hunter, how can you use my gift?” She’d been wondering about it since he made the moss grow. It hardly seemed important now, but she needed to know, she needed it to make sense. The hunters were supposed to be humans who thought that Gifted were dangerous. So how was the hunter doing it?

Maybe if he actually answered, she would have time to think about another way out of his grasp. Or, perhaps he would just laugh in her face and get on with it. She didn’t know which thought scared her more.

---

Noah St Cloud

[Noah St Cloud]

[nospaces]

[break][break][break]

[attr="class","NoahLpostlyric"]Stopping to smell the roses has given others[break]
the chance to catch your scent[break]

[break]

[attr="class","NoahLpostingbox"][break]

(cw: Noah being a creep + violence/blood - give me a nudge if it's too much and too soon!)[break][break]

They were mesmerising – the tears he’d been hoping for. They gleamed as they slipped down her temples and cheeks and into her hair. Her struggling continued, her form trembling beneath him and her breathing irregular in her panic, and his pulse fluttered in response, heating his blood and quickening his own breaths. While there were some lines he would never cross, he considered prodding at them. Putting the threat of them in her head even if he had no intention of doing such things. Would she shake more violently if he swiped his tongue over a wet tear track? Would she cry out for help? How much terror could her little heart take before it gave out?[break][break]

Perhaps that would be going too far… He expected the angel on his shoulder, Tawny, would be far more disgusted than amused if she found out.[break][break]

Quietly (so quietly he might have missed it had he not been enraptured by the entire display) the girl told him there was no one she would be missed by. He tutted and sighed. “How sad…” Indeed it was objectively pitiful, but not in a way that truly moved him. Honestly, her answer was unsurprising. He could very much believe she wasn’t the type of person who had many friends, since she’d been so quick to attack him for no real reason. But then – she could be lying. Playing martyr. Thinking she was saving loved ones by denying their existence. Not that he would want to track down whoever she mentioned; his quarrel was with her and her alone. But if there was truly not a soul he could dump her on when he was finished (he’d decided he couldn’t leave her to bleed out in the woods once he’d harmed her; that would nearly be as bad as killing her directly), what could he do instead?[break][break]

Leaving her outside a hospital perhaps seemed like an obvious choice, but that could go wrong in so many ways. Being prevented from leaving, cameras catching his face or the license plate of his car, the girl screaming to everyone who would listen that he was the one who’d wounded her… No, hospitals were to be avoided. But bringing her to one of Blackstorm’s gifted healers would make things far too easy on her. Being healed supernaturally felt good. She wouldn’t suffer enough for his liking. And bringing her to one of the medical professionals he knew (Mattis, or perhaps even Esha who had stitched his own wound) had the potential to backfire. They would likely be horrified by his actions and unwilling to help him in the future.[break][break]

The only option left, it seemed, was to sew her up himself.[break][break]

The girl spoke again, the first part of her question producing a bewilderment that wiped the smile from his face. He blinked rapidly. “A hunter?” The very thought was absurd. Appalling. Without other gifted around he himself would technically be considered giftless. Why would he want to rid the world of them when they were so integral to his contentment? Though – perhaps it wasn’t all that far-fetched of an assumption. He was on good terms with at least one hunter, had once wondered if he’d be tempted by the bounties offered if he didn’t have his inheritance to keep him comfortable, and he had chased the girl through the woods in a very hunter-like fashion and was now holding a knife to her body.[break][break]

He chuckled, shaking his head. “No. That’s hilarious, but no. I’m afraid you’re mistaken; I’m not a hunter, sweetheart, I’m simply a concerned citizen who looks out for gifted individuals like yourself. I keep them safe. On the day we met I was trying to help you but you decided to royally piss me off, so here we are.”[break][break]

“As for how I can use your gift… well, it’s because I’m gifted too.” He shot her a wink. “Pretty cool, huh? And my gift proves that you’re the asshole here; if you hadn’t attacked me first, your gift would still be yours.”[break][break]

His lips pulled downwards into a slight frown, noting that holding the knife in his left hand against her left side had made his arm cross over his body at a bit of an odd angle. He tutted again and laid the knife on her sternum, reaching up to swap her wrists from one hand to the other so his right was free to hold the knife. He lined it up with her waist again, smile returning. “That’s better. Let’s begin, shall we? And do try to hold still – the goal is to leave your internals intact.” [break][break]

The infliction of his own wound had been fast, like the lash of a whip. Hers would have to be slower. More precise. He wanted to reproduce his scar, not cut through to her intestines and make her bleed out in minutes; it was what the law of exact retaliation demanded. [break][break]

His heart pounded. With dark, hungry eyes he pressed the serrated edge more harshly against her and, slowly, began to drag it towards him, slicing through layers of skin and flesh. Blood swelled from the cut and streamed in glossy scarlet streaks down her side, dripping into the moss beneath her.




[break][break]

[attr="class","NoahLPostTag"]Tag: Seth Perry

[newclass=.NoahLpostingbox]background-color:#fff;color:#8d9295;text-align: justify; width:450px;padding:25px 45px 45px 45px;font: 400 13px Roboto;[/newclass]
[newclass=.NoahLpostingbox b]color:#6f80a3;[/newclass]
[newclass=.NoahLpostingbox a]font: 400 13px Roboto !important;[/newclass]

[newclass=.NoahLPostTag]float:right; margin-top:20px;width: 195px; background: #4c5884; background-image:url(https://i.imgur.com/tEQLti3.jpg);padding: 20px 15px; color: #fff; text-align: center; font: italic bold 10px/100% 'Times', sans-serif; letter-spacing: 5px;overflow:hidden;[/newclass]
[newclass=.NoahLPostTag a]color: #fff !important; font: italic bold 10px/100% 'Times', sans-serif !important;[/newclass]

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[newclass=.NoahLpostname]position: absolute;font:400 60px mr dafoe; letter-spacing:5px;color:#6f80a3;margin-top:5px;margin-left:110px;[/newclass]

[googlefont=Mr Dafoe:400|Roboto:400,400i,700]

[Seth Perry]

Isn't it strange that a gift could be an enemy?
Isn't it weird that a privilege could feel like a chore?

CW: dark themes/violence

---

Seth couldn’t reveal how much she regretted that she would never get to see her parents again. She’d never be able to tell them that she loved them, or thank them for supporting her unquestioningly over the years. She knew that she was lucky to have her mother and father, to get along with them. She felt guilty that she wasn’t a better daughter, and she wished that she could at least say goodbye to them. But she’d learned the hard way that sometimes, that just wasn’t an option. She wasn’t willing to put them in more danger just to make herself feel better.

There was a shift in his expression when she asked how he could use her ability as a hunter. Seth almost missed it through her bleary, tear filled eyes, but his smile faltered, however briefly.

”You’re not a hunter?” She echoed back, trying to process what he’d said. It didn’t make sense. Last year he’d been the one to approach her. This time, he had sought her out all the way out here, in the forest. It had to have been intentional. There is no way that this was a coincidence.

This wasn’t her fault. It couldn’t be. She wasn’t the bad guy.

Or was she?

As he shifted again, Seth’s tears came faster. She thought back to the year before. She had thought that he was going to attack her, so she attacked him first. And today… He’d even asked who said she was going to die. He was right. She was responsible for the situation she was now in. She hadn't given him a chance, she was so scared he was going to hurt her that she preemptively attacked so he wouldn’t have the chance.

”Please.. If you really aren’t a hunter, please don’t do this…” Seth’s mind was reeling with the new information he'd given her. Trying to make sense of it, and reconcile that what she'd believed about him was false. ”I thought- I thought you were a hunter. Please don’t do this!” She repeated herself, panic rising inside her more quickly now.

He told her to be still, that he wasn't trying to do internal damage, but Seth was unable to control her trembling body, she couldn’t stop herself from trying to jerk away from him when she felt the cold metal of the blade pressed against her skin once again again. She felt the intense, sharp pain that came when he applied more pressure, puncturing her skin. The teeth of his blade digging into her, separating the skin in a precise line. He was no longer toying with her. The tears were flowing faster, harsh sobs shaking her body. She screamed out in pain as the knife moved, carving hungrily through her flesh.

"Stop! Please? Please stop.." She wasn't above begging, though she doubted it would be effective at saving her now. Was he going to stop? Was he going to leave her there, a bloody mess on the forest floor?

"I'm sorry!" Seth screamed out an apology. He had been right again. She was sorry. But it wasn't like she could take back attacking him, twice. She couldn't fix this.

The adrenaline that had been coursing through her body was fading fast, and now she was just left with pain and utter exhaustion. Seth's muscles slackened. She was still trembling uncontrollably, but the fight was drained from her spirit.

"I'm sorry…" She repeated the words in a barely audible mumble.

---

Noah St Cloud
Let me know for changes.

[Noah St Cloud]

[nospaces]

[break][break][break]

[attr="class","NoahLpostlyric"]Stopping to smell the roses has given others[break]
the chance to catch your scent[break]

[break]

[attr="class","NoahLpostingbox"][break]

(cw: dark themes, blood)[break][break]

Noah loved hearing them beg.[break][break]

No matter who it was, where, or why, the languid feeling that fell over him each time was a high he couldn't help but chase again and again. Having such power over someone (and them recognising that fact, pleading with him) made him feel good on days when not much else could.[break][break]

The apology she’d denied him was ripped out of her in a scream. [break][break]

Before he’d pressed the knife into her skin she’d been confused. She’d thought he was a hunter and had said as much. It explained why she had been so quick to lash out when they first met, but having a reason didn’t excuse her behaviour. Didn’t make him forgive or relent.[break][break]

The debt was almost paid. He carved into her carefully, with the attention to detail he’d cultivated from a year of whittling all sorts of palm-sized trinkets, and once he was done – once he was satisfied – he finally released her wrists, lifted the blade away, and sat back to admire his work. [break][break]

“There we go,” he breathed. Again, he brushed stray hairs away from her face and cradled her jaw, stroking his thumb across a wet cheek. “That's it; it's over. Good girl.”[break][break]

He moved off her, no longer straddling her body but sitting alongside it while he wiped his blade on the moss, clearing it of blood. If he truly wanted the punishment to reflect the crime, he ought to encourage her to stand and force her to walk as he had done, staggering through the streets in search of aid. And yet, her second apology had been much more muted. Barely audible at all.[break][break]

The lazy contentment curling at his lips faltered. He frowned down at her trembling form, the seeping wound a sharp contrast against her pale skin like rose petals scattered on snow.[break][break]

“Oh,” he sighed. The crimson liquid was puddling beneath her as well, the thirsty moss unable to absorb it quick enough to dull its gleam. “That’s… a lot of blood.” Had he bled so much? At the time he’d been so focused on finding Esha’s apartment that he hadn’t been monitoring the quantity that poured from him at all. On the redhead beside him, he’d made the cut the same length and depth as it was on him, but he hadn’t factored in her smaller size. Perhaps she had less blood to lose…[break][break]

His eyes widened. Shit. He would be in so much trouble if she died now.[break][break]

“O-kay. Right, let’s try to stay awake, shall we?” He flicked the blade back into its sheath and tucked it into his back pocket, then pulled his thin sweater over his head. He promptly folded the cloth and pushed it against the cut on her side before reaching for her hands, placing them on the sweater and applying pressure. “Keep pressing,” he ordered, “and I’m going to need you to start naming things you can see, or telling me about yourself.” Would that help to prevent her from fainting? Having tasks to occupy herself with? Probably not, but at least it would make it more obvious if/when she did faint.[break][break]

He shifted, readying himself to slip one arm under her knees and the other behind her back. Would she let him pick her up? Perhaps she’d still resist or try to run again despite her sorry state. “I wasn’t – I’m not trying to kill you, I was just – getting even.” The chase through the forest had been relatively short, but how long had he walked before finding her? Less than ten minutes, he hoped. He glanced in the direction he’d come from, seeking the path he’d taken. Could he get her back to his car before she passed out? Could he get her back to his home before she died?




[break][break]

[attr="class","NoahLPostTag"]Tag: Seth Perry

[newclass=.NoahLpostingbox]background-color:#fff;color:#8d9295;text-align: justify; width:450px;padding:25px 45px 45px 45px;font: 400 13px Roboto;[/newclass]
[newclass=.NoahLpostingbox b]color:#6f80a3;[/newclass]
[newclass=.NoahLpostingbox a]font: 400 13px Roboto !important;[/newclass]

[newclass=.NoahLPostTag]float:right; margin-top:20px;width: 195px; background: #4c5884; background-image:url(https://i.imgur.com/tEQLti3.jpg);padding: 20px 15px; color: #fff; text-align: center; font: italic bold 10px/100% 'Times', sans-serif; letter-spacing: 5px;overflow:hidden;[/newclass]
[newclass=.NoahLPostTag a]color: #fff !important; font: italic bold 10px/100% 'Times', sans-serif !important;[/newclass]

[newclass=.NoahLpostlyric]font-size:8px; text-transform:uppercase; text-align:right; letter-spacing:5px;color:#8d9295;margin-right:20px;margin-top:40px;[/newclass]
[newclass=.NoahLpostname]position: absolute;font:400 60px mr dafoe; letter-spacing:5px;color:#6f80a3;margin-top:5px;margin-left:110px;[/newclass]

[googlefont=Mr Dafoe:400|Roboto:400,400i,700]

[Seth Perry]

Isn't it strange that a gift could be an enemy?
Isn't it weird that a privilege could feel like a chore?

CW: dark themes

---

Seth was feeling light headed. The tension had melted away from her muscles, leaving her sore and aching all over her body. She flinched away from his hand on her face, and the pain from sudden movement made her cry out again. Any amount of movement tugged at the edges of the broken skin, causing bright spots to dance around the edges of her vision and sharp pain to shoot through her abdomen.

Even when he no longer had her pinned, she laid there with heavy tears streaming down her cheeks, taking ragged breaths and trying to get her mind to work, to create a plan to get her away from this man, not a hunter. What was he then?

A monster?

She forced herself to look down at the wound when he commented about the amount of blood she was losing, the effort pulling a pained gasp from her lips. She could feel it seeping out, was aware that the ground was damp beneath her, but it was so much more than she had thought. Panic filled her thoughts again. She was going to die here, and no one would ever know. She leaned her head back against the ground, biting back another exclamation of pain.

Seth could hear him - the tone in his voice less malicious than it had been before - telling her to stay awake. She watched him remove his sweater, putting her hands on top of it over the wound to staunch the flow of blood pouring out of her body. She didn’t fight against him, but each movement was agony. She felt oddly out of body, like this wasn’t really happening to her. She was starting to feel more light headed. He instructed her to keep pressing, and she tried. Her hands, dirty from the struggle on the forest floor, were quickly covered in crimson. It felt warm, sticky. She didn’t think she was pressing hard enough to make a difference, but she didn’t have the strength left to press any harder.

”If.. If you aren’t a hunter.. who are you?” It wasn’t what he told her to talk about, but what did that matter at this point? She was just the girl who was going to bleed to death in the forest after what was apparently just a terrible misunderstanding. ”Why did you track me here for.. revenge?”

As strange as it was, Seth believed him that he wasn’t actually trying to kill her. At this point, if he wanted her dead it was as easy as walking away. She’d bleed out or a wild animal would get to her in no time, if she was left unattended. He could have done anything to her, still could do anything to her. She was a crying, trembling, bloody mess. When he picked her up, she groaned in pain but made no effort to stop him. If there was a chance of her surviving, she had to depend on him now. ”It hurts so much..” Her eyes fluttered as she spoke. ”It’s so cold.” She mumbled, suddenly feeling like the heat was seeping from her body along with the blood that she’d lost.

---

Noah St Cloud
This feels like a bit of a mess, Let me know for changes. She’s barely hanging on, so feel free to assume whatever!

[Noah St Cloud]

[nospaces]

[break][break][break]

[attr="class","NoahLpostlyric"]Stopping to smell the roses has given others[break]
the chance to catch your scent[break]

[break]

[attr="class","NoahLpostingbox"][break]

(cw: dark themes)[break][break]

The mistake, Noah decided, was that he hadn’t played with her enough.[break][break]

Slicing her open had been too hasty. Too soon. He should have allowed her to reach the river. Should have watched her scramble and slip some more, frantic in her attempt to flee him while he happily strolled along in pursuit. Maybe he would have seen her try to use the water against him somehow – crossing it, jumping in, or perhaps unveiling a second nature-linked gift to warn him away. And once he’d had his fun tormenting her by simply being there, he should have herded her back towards his car. Let her get close enough to the main road to give her hope of a rescue before he shoved her down and revealed the knife. [break][break]

But he’d panicked. Believed she would slip through his fingers and fade into obscurity again and thus acted accordingly; chasing her down, enacting his revenge as soon as the opportunity presented itself…[break][break]

Too hasty. Too soon. Her ashen face and quivering lips told him as much. Her death wouldn’t have been an issue, had he not promised himself to reduce such bad behaviour. [break][break]

Weakly, she asked him questions of her own rather than follow his orders. He didn’t mind; at least she was talking. He scooped her up bridal style, ignoring her groan as he began striding back the way they’d came without delay, gaze scanning his intended path for anything that might trip them or otherwise cause hindrances. It was a blessing she was so light. Had she been a larger person, he didn’t think it would be possible to get her to ‘safety’ in time.[break][break]

“You bet I did,” he replied cheerfully, as if she’d asked him something as mundane as whether he’d ordered them take-out. “Fair’s fair; you almost kill me, I almost…” He glanced down at her, his lips pressing together in a grim line. ‘Almost’ was the key word. Hopefully he was only almost killing her. He smiled again, tried to make it lazy and relaxed even though he felt the strain to it. “And I already told you, I’m–” [break][break]

A concerned citizen, he meant to say. But her eyes had fluttered closed. She mumbled that it hurt. That she was cold.[break][break]

“Noah!” he blurted, picking up his pace. “I’m Noah. C’mon, it’d be rude not to tell me your name after I’ve told you mine.”[break][break]

Limp in his arms, she didn’t respond.[break][break]

He swore and tried to run.[break][break]

---

[break][break]

OOC: ~to Noah’s house!~


[break][break]

[attr="class","NoahLPostTag"]Tag: Seth Perry

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