It was falling near midnight, the time where they swarmed around the bars, usually. Avina had watched the lousy bar from across the street, before deciding to plunge in for some drinks, and for victims.
She passed by the men smoking a joint, the smell ripe and thick, and she felt a tingle whorl in her head, with a cloud-like feeling. She concentrated on the small-figured man drinking alone, and her face molded to a triangular, sharp-jawed, young man, and her chest lost it's endowments, but her hips remained, and it was not noticeable quite at first, but she would appear androgynous, and would appear trans-gender.
She sat a stool, well away from the man, but while he was still in earshot. "I want what he's having," she pointed at him. A glass and several shots were slapped in front of her with a clink. The beverage was poured, but Avina slurped the beverage without the shot glasses. It rushed all to her head for a moment, but it passed. Whatever it was, it was strong. Humans and their peculiar creations, she thought. It felt weird calling every being a human, as she use to identify as one herself, but it all changed on the eve of her arranged wedding.
She listened to the gossip a rowdy couple and a drunkard shared. "Th-them attacks..." he exhaled from a generous serving. "They say it's Alex Portings, that one. You know 'em? A stoner he is," he laughed.
"Alex! Long time, no see!" Avina rasped loudly as she approached the drinker. "Those killings, have they been good? Good pay, right?" she gushed casually. He gave her an awkward stare, but it held something between anger and nervousness.
"What?" he said. The couple turned to her, too, clearly disgusted at Avina. She took the form of a man in a dive vest and ripped, stained jeans, but her voice was feminine, and that wasn't something she could change.
"Forgive me, I didn't introduce myself!" she forced laughter. "I'm that little bitch from hell!" she shouted as she slammed a fist into his throat, and gripped his collar. His teeth shown fangs and his eyes were a hunter's eyes. He punched her on the jaw and she fell back from the blow.
The bar lit up in bets and chants while the bartender called for no fighting. She kicked him in the pelvis, and pushed into his stomach, and slid out her brazen dagger. She held it to his throat, the lapis gleaming as it yearned for his blood. He dug claws into her chest, and she felt her shape growing unstable, and a light began to glow as she phased back into her true form, with breasts growing, and her face becoming softer, and curly brown hair tumbling down. Her clothes even revolted back to her aboriginal black, silken dress.
She felt a glass bottle crash and bust against her head, with blood oozing down from cuts, and heard screaming. She even felt some human punch into her side as she fell down. "Call the cops! Dial 911!" a particularly revealed woman shouted. Another woman groped a phone.
Avina punched a human opposer in the jaw, and he fell down unconscious. She felt extreme pain in her neck as the supernatural strangled her, and she gripped his own throat harder, but couldn't resist his strength, and her dagger flew to the ground.
Jack is an average, unassuming guy. He stands bashfully, avoiding eye contact as he looks around at everything except the person he's speaking with. A closer look. however, will reveal more.
Beneath this carefully neutral appearance, Jack's body is lean and efficient. He's slow to anger and behind his bashful demeanor is an assertive individual observing his environment with an almost predatory nature.
Post by Jacksoπ Flεtchεr on Nov 17, 2015 2:05:10 GMT -5
The young man had walked into the bar and plopped himself down on a stool as if he'd always belonged there. The bartender had furrowed their brow and, noting his young appearance, promptly requested he show some id. "Sure thing, pal." Jack had told him, handing over the fake he always carried with him. He always made sure to keep up to date on such important documents, having the latest and greatest fakes money could buy.
He didn't usually go out of his way to break the law, being rather indifferent to the entire concept, but this particular one he found rather silly and Jack took no small joy in circumventing it. Taking his license back, Jack ordered a couple beers and a tray of the establishment's cheap nachos.
Jack had then turned his attention towards the bar's occupants, paying attention to what was happening, what was being said, all the while managing to look rather engrossed in his nachos and beer. He strangely didn't feel like killing anyone tonight. Maybe he was coming down with something. The young man felt his forehead and, not detecting much warmness, went back to his nachos. An apparently transgender individual sat somewhere near him, briefly, but Jack didn't pay them much mind. There were nachos to be eaten.
However, his attention was swiftly drawn when she proceeded accuse a man of being a murderer and attack him, changing shape before the young man's very eyes. A brawl then began to break out, with the woman being lost in the fray. From what Jack could tell, though, she wasn't doing too well. Some other supe, likely a werebeast, seemed to be throttling her. Well, a large bottle across the man's face was Jack's answer to that. After procuring it from behind the bar, he'd made his way over, deciding to throw his lot in with the woman.
The young man swung several more times, busting faces while deftly avoiding any serious injury himself. Jack didn't have any formal training, but he made up for it with some decent speed. Anyways, he hoped his efforts would be enough to give her time to make it back to her feet and, hopefully, keep her from being killed.
"On your feet, please. I can't very well handle them by myself!" Jack implored the strange woman, trying hard to keep the smile from his face when he felt a man's cheekbone give way beneath a heavy thunk from the large bottle he wielded.