He shook his head and fixed his cap with a quick twist forward, standing up and brushing himself off. "Thank you, I didn't get to... formerly introduce myself earlier, I am Algus Ivorfeng." He nodded and began to pick up a few books and place them in small piles on the ground until he picked up a certain book, handing it to an over hanging vine and it slowly made its way across the room to his guests. "Here's the tome, I could make out bits and pieces but I think Donald may have a little more luck than me, considering it has to do with him. His family name I could understand, but other than that the book is, as the figure of speech goes, all Greek to me." He joked and opened a small refrigerator. He pulled a few bottles of water and some frozen noodle packages from it, tossing them to his vines for holding while he set the microwave up. "You don't mind instant foods do you?" He asked as he dropped about five bags of noodles into a microwaveable bowl.
He didn't like this man either. For some odd reason, he felt an immense brooding hatred for anyone who wasn't Dawn. She was so serene, they were all so occupied.
He could hardly even stand looking at the man, let alone replying.
"I'm not hungry". He sounded hostile, and he meant to. He didn't say thank you. That phrase was not part of his vocabularly toward those he despised. He looked over to the vines on the wall, they were creeping him out. He though about making them wither and die, but he decided against it, Dawn may think he was nothing but a bully for that.
"I'm a bit of a researcher, and I tend to get... immersed in my work sometimes. I really do appreciate you all digging me out like that." He said as the noddles boiled in the microwave, the monotonous motor sounding throughout the room. "If anything I really want this 'end of the world' bit to be bypassed and maybe... I don't know, put under the table for the next small group that has to deal with it comes along. History can be postponed, but it cannot just be stopped. The beginning of ever end always starts a new beginning." He said as the vines left the water on a table that had sprouted up in the middle of the room, the bed slightly moving into the wall and a few chairs also rooting themselves in. "Sit please, I don't think you all wish to stand." He looked between Dawn and Adrian, noticing the hostility that Adrian was focusing towards him. "You helped me, and I intend to return your due kindness." He smiled and tried to seem more like a host should, as far as humans go.
He raised his eyebrows a bit in surprise before his eyes darted away and he touched his scar. "It was this wasn't it?" He asked as he heaved a heavy sigh and the timer went off, signaling that the noodles were done, a pair of vines opened and fetched the noodles, setting them in the middle of the table. "I'm not a werewolf to my brothers and sisters... just a mutt..." He looked down at the table and began to scratch on some of the wood, the vines outside rustling again. "If you don't wish to stay I can understand... but I just want to be trusted again... I want to save this planet because even if every being on earth hates me, I still want to save it because it's my home too." He said looking up and his multicolored eyes staring between his guests. Sad, yet hopeful... hoping that they would see him as an ally and not an enemy and have to go back into this little hovel again.
"As long as you're helping us, you're a friend, and that makes you welcome with us," Edward said. He'd never seen a werewolf, but he'd heard the stories. Ok, so he'd seen the movies, which didn't mean a whole lot.
"This is quite the place you have here. I'm a bit of a researcher myself, or trying to become one. You seem to have books of every kind here."
He He walked around and Hex jumped up on a shelf and pointed out a volume entitled, Dark Magic of Belway
"Could this be something we might need?" he asked, taking it off the shelf and blowing dust off the cover.
Donald had stared at the first tome intently. All russian, starting from the point of when Ivan the Terrible laid his curse upon the Jackovitch's. He picked it up, trembling, and sat down. He flipped through the pages, and saw pictures of people he saw on his family's wall. He saw his Aunt who moved to Romania and was killed by Vladmir the Impaler. He saw his Uncle who was a leader of the communist party. He saw his grandparents, who migrated to America, his parents, and finally...
He huffed. He wanted nothing to do with any of this. He was tired, confused, lost. He couldn't even remember his own last name. Then he started thinking about all of the people he'd hurt.
Did they deserve it? No...it was Alexander...controlling him. But why would he have chosen Adrian. Adrian was weak, useless. Unless he had a skill he never realized.
Then he thought back on the magic he had performed. He had disintegrated three structures entirley, taken control of countless minds and used them as pawn against their will, terrified teacher and students alike with his mere presence, and managed to teleport himself and others on multiple occasions.
All of these were skills even the most accomplsihed witch struggled to acheive, and yet he had performed them without so much as a second though. He started to think harder. Each time he had done these acts...hadn't he been experiencing and intense emotion? Wasn't it true that when he cleansed the chapel, he was angry; and when he destroyed the tower, scared. He looked in a mirror and eyed his hair.
The lone streak of intense white ran from left side of his hairline down to the front middle. The rest of his hair was black. When he had been freed, his hair had returned to black, save for the one line of silvery white. His eyes had also remained red. He sensed some of his instability was still inside him.
He couldn't use it though. He was angry at everyone here, yet no energy explelled itself from his body. None at all. Perhaps anger was the wrong emotion...but he had never experienced anything other than anger, fear, hate, distrust...those were all he knew.
He sensed the others were still uncomfortable around him, and he felt unworthy in their presence. He had tried to kill them, even control them as pawns...yet they took him in. Even though they had shown kindness to him, Adrian could not lower his guard to anyone besides Dawn.
Dawn...she seemed so serene and complacent. She was calm and cool, warm and good natured...but sheltered a raw power that had been a match for Adrian.
Donald was confused, but not nearly as much as Adrian was. He was cursed with an addiction to a substance Adrian did not understand, yet he managed to act calmly in the face of certain death. He had not thanked Adrian for saving his life, and frankly, Adrian didn't expect him to. He had wronged Donald before, so many times. He had punched him, almsot taken his mind, and nearly killed him...he didn't deserve any thanks.
Edward was an odd fellow. Adrian did not understand the arts he praticed. He tried to control his fire. Alexander had taught Adrian that fire was a means of ultimate power, the apex of the elements, the most undeniably powerful substance on earth, and so Adrian feared his own strenght. He was terrified of the fire inside him. He had burned enitre structures and injured countless people with the rouge element he once held dear. He would never use it again, it was only good for destruction.
Finally...the werewolf. Adrian remembered what werewolfs were like. They wer elowly scum, he had seen it with his own eyes, Alexander had taught him it. His hatred grew ever stonger for the quiet and timid werewolf. He would not speak to that one...ever.
In fact, he refused to speak to any of them out loud. From now on, he would speak through his mind, it was the only safe place anymore.
Posted on 2009-04-27 at 22:29:16.
Edited on 2009-04-27 at 22:32:40 by Babaloo
Donald took his nose out of the book. It was time for a break. As he walked around, he got closer to Adrian, and he noticed that he edged towards Dawn. There must be something about her that enthralls men, he thought. He felt unappreciated by Adrian. He had rescued him from Alexander's slavery, even to the point of having his brother taking refuge in Donald's body. It didn't really bother him though. Adrian was still a male, and that meant a heightened sense of pride. Men just don't thank other men like that.
Donald looked at the werewolf. He was a strange fellow. Had his nose in books, when he was one of the best hunters on the planet. It just didn't make sense. He then realized something, and had to ask.
"After what happened today, could we not talk about brothers for a little bit? I'm still a little shaken up at the fact that mine isn't dead, and that he just tried to kill me."
Donald sat back down next to the book. His jeans and shirt were covered in rubble and soot. He wondered if they all would be expelled for the destruction of a good portion of the school. And possibly any injuries caused.
Adrian saw the way Donald eyed him, and he knew exactly what he was thinking. Years of invading the private sanctums of others had taught him how to read the face like an open book.
He inched a few feet closer to Dawn, just to see the reaction from Donald. He knew Donald didn't trust him, and that he expected a hearty 'thank you' from Adrian, but he also knew Donald figured he wasn't saying anything for the wrong reasons.
He wouldn't bother explaining anything. It would probably just offend everyone more, and the way things were, he already despised most of them. The werewolf most of all. Every movement the werewolf made put Adrian on edge.
He didn't trust their kind, not since his childhood. He kept his mind extended at the very reaches of the werewolfs mind, not entering and undetectable, but ready to pounce should he move to attack Dawn or Adrian...the others he could care less about.
He glanced back over at Donald and read the slightest hint of yet another emotion on his face. Jealousy. Perhaps Donald thought Adrian was attracted to Dawn. She was beautiful, but Adrian knew his bounds, line he would not cross. He had, on multiple occasions, threatened this womans life, and he knew he hadn't a chance with her. Therefore he showed no emotion, but he could sense she felt it...
He looked at her for a breif moment, examining her soft yet determined eyes. It wasn't her beauty that wooed Adrian, as it was for the others, but her power and grace. It confused Adrian that someone so strong would refuse to use that power to gain an advantage over others, and he was determined to find out why.