D E A D! [chels]

[claude]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=style, width:100px; background-color:#dedede;][atrb=vAlign, top][style=border:10px solid #eee; margin:7px; margin-top:-1px;][style=opacity:0.8][/style][/style][style=text-align:left; margin:5px; font-family:georgia; text-transform:lowercase; line-height:20px; font-size:27px; color:#444; letter-spacing:-3px;]IF WE CAN STAY HERE LONG ENOUGH, WE CAN PLAY WITH BLOODY MARY[/style]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=style, width:350px; background-color:#dedede;][atrb=vAlign, top][style=margin:10px; margin-top:-1px; background-color:#eee; font-family:arial; text-align:justify; color:#3d3d3d; font-size:10px; border-bottom:4px solid #3d3d3d; padding:4px;]One of Claude's favorite things about the Bayou...was the hidden, forgotten graveyards. Unmarked graves were incredibly common in this area, especially for quickly-done Pirate funerals. It was basically a gold mine. For the most part, the prince had given up his second job of selling the dead for profit. However, he had a slip-up every now and then and couldn't help but make extra cash by digging up some fresh bodies. He stuffed the last of the night's stash into the large, dirtied sack. It smelled horribly of death; but it was something Claude was used to (having done this a million times). He tied the open end of the sack and used a handkerchief he stashed in his coat pocket to clean off his hands, face, and shoes. A few spots on his clothing had gotten dirtied but it was hardly noticeable, being that his suit was black. He lifted the load of corpses over his shoulder and began making his way out of the secret swamp area. The Vampire prince pushed past the multitude of drooping, dying trees to make his way back to the abandoned outskirts surrounding the swampland. His loafers became quickly stained with dirty water and mud after trudging his way out. He exhaled. He hadn't given it much thought, but his life seemed to be on repeat. Being a prince was more work than Claude liked to do, really. Bars, brothels, graves, and his bed were the only places Claude ventured when he didn't have royalty shit to deal with. He was a pain in everyone's asses (which he knew well). He flung the sack of dead bodies onto the grass below his feet, digging through his pockets to find his box of cigarettes. Lighting it and dragging, he looked upward toward the night sky. In all honesty, the bastard had never given anything any thought unless it consisted of personal gain and pleasure. However tonight, with the bag of bodies and his lit cigarette, he was thinking of a new spectrum of things. When was the last time he had even seen his sister? Or his favored brother-in-law? He had taken a fancy to popping in on Castiel every so often just to piss him off...and he hadn't even done that in a while. He finished the smoke and flicked the remains beside the sack, murmuring a quiet "Fuck it." as he grabbed his goodies and began walking again. The land surrounding the swamp was wet with night-time dew drops, causing Claude's feet to make a squeaking and slushing sound as he went on. It was a while's away until he could trade these bodies for some new profit, but he was preferring a walk instead of his usual flying route.The Vampire paused right in his tracks when he caught a whiff of something completely unfamiliar. Animal, yet Human. Quite possibly a prowling Werewolf hunting for a meal that would be found in the open grasses around the Bayou swamps. Or a lost runaway Jast. Or a weak Human with their animal counterpart. The scent of Human wasn't as strong as the scent of animal- so if it were a Human and animal together, the Human was sick or weak and losing blood. Claude's nostrils twitched frantically, trying to make out the exact scent. Out of curiosity, he followed it. It could even serve to be a meal... [/style][classy=frame]SAY HER NAME INTO THE DARK, ACTIVATE OUR NERVE ENDINGS[/classy]

[style=font-family:ms gothic; font-size:12px;]made by RIVER! of CTL and OTE[/style]

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[chelsey]

Chelsey had never been a fan of bayous. They smelled horribly and the stink of the place tended to cling to her for days. It didn't matter how many showers she had, just like cigarettes, the smell just wouldn't leave. There was also the fact that they were very popular for people far worse than navy officers that tended to cluster around creepy places like these. Not that she was scared of course, it just tended to put her a little on edge, which was something she greatly disliked. She was already at a greater disadvantage for being a female paperjast, which was enough in itself to be discouraging. She'd been treated like garbage for most of her life because of this. Because in the eyes of many, paperjasts were nothing more than housepets or slaves. Many female paperjasts were horrifically treated, because well, they were female and had little to no rights. People felt they could do whatever the fuck they wanted because they were paperjasts. It was one of the reasons that Chels had such a great dislike for most people, as one could imagine. It had taken her years to even begin to rely or trust someone again, even if that person was a pirate. She owed Tyrin Schiller her life, as if he hadn't raided the ship she had been on, god knows how long she would've been stuck working as a slave.

It was because she felt she owed him such a debt that she was even here to begin with. Awhile back, a guy had been buried here along with some goods that had been too hot to keep around at the time. The man had once been a higher ranking Navy official that she and Tyrin had taken out during a fight. Not wanting his murder to be pinned on them, she hid him in the bayou, along with some goods she had obtained while in the area. She liked to think that the officer was making it up to her in the afterlife by being a place marker for the goods. Now that the Leonine had finally docked, she figured she could at least use the goods to help buy stuff for the crew. It was relatively easy to find the guy, as his body was one of the fresher ones. A new scent flooded into her nose as she approached the grave site, she hissed quietly as she recognized the scent of a vampire. Even though she herself, detested racism, she could not help but feel hypocritical for disliking vampires. She always felt uneasy around the bloodsuckers. It also didn't help that the bastards had such a high opinion of themselves.

What was it even doing out here? Burying it's latest victim or something? Chelsey hissed a little louder this time as she drew closer to the vampire. It was heading towards her, and the closer it got to her, the stronger it's loathsome scent. She also could tell that it had been playing around in the dirt, as the ground around here had an unfamiliar air to it. It also was or had been smoking, as the smell of lingering nicotine hung closely to it. Chelsey soon stopped in the middle of a clearing. She would soon be confronted by the vampire, who was just behind those trees. She wondered if the bastard had found her treasure or rather, if he had been dumb enough to take it. It should have been obvious enough that the body was a marker. Behind the scent of rotting flesh, it probably wreaked of pirates. It would take a moron to realize that it wasn't. But then again, the vampires she had met in the past couldn't exactly be considered geniuses. The albino paperjast sighed in irritation, placing her hands on her hips as she waited for the vamp to appear. Once she felt his presence close enough, her hand slowly slid from her hip to her sword, her fingers wrapped securely around the hilt of her sword.

She decided that the best way to deal with the vampire was to be straight to the point and tough. The last thing she needed was some brat trying to make her his next meal. The feline jast scowled as it approached. "So. Where's the loot, dipshit?" she spat, obviously annoyed. "And you better be honest and just hand it over already, I don't have all day bloodsucker."

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words: 724
notes: :U not bad for a first post.

[claude]

Claude dragged his sack of rotting loot further into the trees, sniffing quietly along the way. It was definitely a Jast he was smelling- and it was close by. He pushed through a few branches, stepped in a few mud puddles and stopped in his tracks once he caught the sight of his prey. He set his dirtied treasures right beside him and stuffed his hands in his pockets. He could hear her quiet hissing, though subtle. The prince's eyes scanned her over quickly; finding her hand gripping a sword at her side. And then she spoke. Claude stepped a few inches closer and rolled his eyes. The only thing of value he had acquired on this bayou hunt was a few dead bodies; why would that interest an albino cat Jast? He nudged the brown, muddy bag of corpses with the toe of his loafer. "If yer referrin' to this 'ere, I assure ya there's no value in it." A bayou was an odd place to hide anything worth money; though it was rarely visited by most people. "Check the bag, hun. Promise there ain't no gold 'er silver." he murmured in his deep accent.

The Vampire kept a calm poker face, keeping his deep blue eyes on the cat Jast in front of him. Most of them were rare finds, being that a lot of them were obtained by hunters or masters (or put into hiding). Claude pulled his box of cigarettes from his suit pocket again, pulling out the last smoke. "D'ya mind?" he asked, gesturing to the fag he held in his hand. He lit it before she could respond properly and took a long drag, exhaling a heap of smoke into the bayou forest air. The more he thought about it, the odder it was that a female Jast was this deep into the trees, carrying a sword and screaming about "loot." Claude turned on his heel and leaned up against a near by elm, dragging once more as smoke flowed from between his nostrils. "So wha'? Ya some kinda pirate? Trudging 'round in some dark bayou wit' a sword...and screamin' 'bout handin' over loot? Mm. Yer all too predictable." he snorted quietly and dragged. The Vampire prince was much too old to not understand most people. Though he lacked social skills, behavior was the easiest thing to get the hang of.

He straightened up and flung his cigarette, the muddy surroundings putting it out for him. With a slight interest, he grew even closer to the Jast, It wasn't often that you came face to face with anyone or anything with hair as white as fallen snow. Nor with a matching set of furry ears and tail. Claude was willing to bet she'd be worth a pretty penny- but he had no interest in Jast hunting. He may have been a horrible man, a criminal and a grave robber; but he would never sell a living being for profit. Money hardly mattered to him to begin with. Being a royal, he was already set in that department for life. His bright eyes traveled, catching directly onto her cleavage. If there was one thing he loved more than stealing dead guys, drinking blood, or smoking...it was a nice set of boobs. They were grab-able, soft, welcoming, even. Claude smirked a little and stuffed his hands back into his suit pockets. The bayou was no place to hit on a hot woman-cat. "If yer done 'ere, wanna hit up a bar? I know'n at the edge of the island. They make'a mean martini." he said with a toothy grin, his fangs bright white and lengthy. It wasn't often that Claude went to the extent of being nice while hitting on a female. "Mm. By the way. M'name's Claude. Might I 'ave yer's?"

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[chelsey]

The alino jast almost couldn't believe what this dumbass was spouting. It had to be him, who else could it have been to take the treasure? Her tall ear flicked in annoyance, her claws sinking into the leather wraps on her sword's hilt. Chelsey growled quietly, not quite comfortable with being called a term of endearment, especially by some vampiric bastard she'd never met before. Even if he had the voice of a gentleman, his attitude itself suggested otherwise. She wasn't about to entirely base her opinion of him based on his appearance, both out of not wanting to be a hypocrite and the fact that behind the horrid stench of death and dirt, he wasn't actually that bad looking. "Oh, is that so, babe?" she practically snarled at him, taking a step towards him. She realized quickly when she approached the bag that he was right- nothing in there had much of a value to her. It wreaked immensely of fresh and old death, and limbs. Was he some kind of graverobber? Or perhaps serial killer, looking to bury or unbury his treasures? It wouldn't entirely surprise her- the vamps she'd met in her day weren't exactly the nicest folks around. If this guy didn't have it, it was evident that someone must've dug up the goods earlier and made off with them.

In show of good spite, she cheekily sliced open the bag with a quick motion of her claws, a small smirk creeping across her face as the contents of the bag rolled out. It was quite literally, a bloody mess. Some of the appendages were rather fresh, as some of the blood splattered on her boots. Chelsey groaned in disgust, shaking the blood off and smearing the remainder on the burlap sack. He didn't seem to mind, though, only asking her if she minded if he had a smoke. Chels doubted he actually cared whether she did or not and only shrugged. She had long since become accustomed to the smell of cigarettes, though she had never been into them much herself. She was a casual smoker, she supposed. Great after sex or when she had had one hell of a day, though the latter was usually reserved for some sort of hard liquor and a warm bed.

Chelsey cocked a pale brow at the vampire. Was he being serious? Was she not famous, or rather, infamous enough to be known about? Or the fact she was pretty much dressed like a one? She flicked one of her ears, her hands on her hips. "Yes, I'm a pirate, y'limey." she retorted, blatantly ignoring the fact she actually found British accents to be somewhat charming. "As to what I'm doing here, is none of your goddamn business." she added, "Though what the fuck do you mean, predictable? How the fuck am I bein' predictable?' As for the screaming and whatnot, she hadn't done that until this brat had come into her range of smell. And she wouldn't really say she had been yelling, more like talking rather loudly. Using authority, perhaps. But definitely not yelling. "And I s'ppose the jackass with the big burlap sack can talk, mh?" she asked him dryly. She took a half step backwards as the vampire drew closer. While he didn't seem intent on attacking her, she couldn't be entirely sure, which is why she was hesitant to take him up on his offer. There was something about this guy that felt off. Maybe it was because he had been holding a bag of dead guys, though after a moment of consideration, she realized that he probably wasn't much worse than any other guy she'd ever dated or banged. Even if he was a vamp, she'd certainly dated worse.

She shrugged, moving her hands off her hips. "Eh, why the hell not? S'the first time we've hit land in awhile." she said to herself, rolling her eyes at the shorter dude's obvious attempts to flirt with her. She had long since become accustomed to being flirted with and even having her chest stared at. It was indeed, a lovely goddamn chest. If the man was bangable, she even considered it a compliment. "Best margarita, eh? I'll be the judge of that, pretty boy." Chels smirked faintly, sliding her hands into her own pockets. "Name's Chelsey Trager, pipsqueak." She started walking towards the closest exit to the bayou, her tail tail hitting Claude in the face as she passed him by.

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words: 749
notes: :ermergerd a repllyyy