--- NO CONTROL THIS TIME , open.

[CORA ADELLE RUSKOV]

I CAN FEEL THE ANIMAL INSIDE
MY RESOUND IS WEAKENING
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night had long since cascaded over the mountaintops of california, coating the warm lands in a layer of cold darkness. the lands were empty, except for the chirp of the crickets, but even they were cautious as to what lie hidden in the vast forest. these parts were not safe, even with the bustle of the city surrounding the nature escape, and every being knew so. had the pretty little blonde been conscious, she would have strayed as far away from the park as possible, knowing that inevitable danger lurked there. to her misfortune, however, her physical needs had demanded otherwise of her. anyone who wandered across her might have thought her demented, or even possessed, as she writhed in the dirt...unaware of her actions.

through the eyes of someone, cora could see a young woman being stalked...by what, she did not know. she couldn't have been much older than cora herself, maybe twenty, at the most. cora attempted to look around her to see what was ailing her, hunting her...but she saw nothing. in fact, it was as though cora herself were doing the hunting. she tried to stop her, it, whoever....but it chased the girl on. as she escaped from sight, cora felt the being stop and heard it sniffing her out. she thought the girl might be safe for a moment, until it started off again, seeking the victim out. she screamed, begged for her life...just as cora was screaming for the creature to stop. everything turned red, bright red. cora was killing the girl and she couldn't control herself.

a layer of cold sweat had formed over the blonde's delicate features, causing her to wake with a jolt. in her dream, or whatever it was, she felt the girl's life fading at the sake of her own hands. even now, as she woke, she could taste the crimson of blood in her mouth...and the worst part was, she enjoyed it. no, she needed it. what was wrong with her? these past few years had been a roller coaster for her, even since she found out who her true parents were. even her dreams weren't safe, as they only served to remind her of what kind of monster she was.

taking a moment to regain her composure, cora attempted to squint through the darkness. despite the lack of light, she knew the place well: torrey pines. what had she possibly been doing here? before she landed in such an unconscious state, she recalled going for a run. in order to confirm this fact, she located her phone (which had fallen to the ground beside her) and used the light to illuminate her outfit. as she glanced down at her jogging outfit, cora's expression turned to horror. what was once a pleasant white and purple outfit was now stained a deep crimson, just as she had seen in her nightmare. no, no, no, this wasn't happening....again.

fighting back the tears that threatened to stain her already dirty face, cora brought herself up from the ground. a pain in her mouth led her hand to the sharp canines that told her she was still hungry. but for what? she knew damn well, but refused to admit it aloud. when she first began to have her urges, cora did absolutely everything to try and tame them....diet pills to curb her appetite, gorging herself in a variety of foods, and even seeing a doctor. nothing extinguished the hollow feeling in her gut. well, not until she fed for the first time. finding herself in the same condition as that first night, she truly believed she had killed once more...especially after such a nightmare.

clumsy to her surroundings, the young woman stumbled a few times as she tried to regain her balance. another death meant she'd have to leave the city and start life anew once more. she had endured that enough growing up in foster care, before she knew what she was. she wasn't sure she could handle the life changing events once more. she hadn't gotten more than a few yards before she found herself on the ground once more, having tripped over something large and lifeless. with a shaky hand, cora held her phone over the corpse, whatever it may be, and embraced her heart for the worst. she was no killer...not by choice, anyway. relief flooded over her as she caught sight of the deer, mangled as it had been. a deer, it was only a deer.

cautious fingers traced over the deep flesh wounds, looking at each large bite mark. she had done this, yet she hadn't been one hundred percent convinced just yet. as the vixen looked over the dead animal, she could feel her adrenaline starting to pump throughout her veins. she was still hungry, that was it. but no...she wouldn't let herself give into such barbaric measures. it was disgusting, to say the least. though she wanted nothing more than to feed, and then escape the forest, cora forced herself to sit next to the deer. she was an animal lover, believe it or not, and she had killed this innocent animal for who knows what reason. she was still trying to figure that out. she placed a hand over its intact neck, letting her fingers intertwine with its soft fur. "sorry my friend. this was not me...it was the monster inside me." she bend over the deer's neck, finally letting the tears get the best of her as she rested her head on the leaves beneath them both. why was god punishing her like this? what had she done? no, she was wrong to question god…as she had stopped believing in him long ago.

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tagged - - - open!
notes - - - meep.
lyrics - - - the animal ,, disturbed.
word count - - - 952.

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[AZRIEL]

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TO KNOW ME AS HARDLY GOLDEN
_{IS TO KNOW ME ALL WRONG, THEY WARN}
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Azriel sits alone, stoic and stony-faced at the end of a long dock. His eyes close, dark lashes sweeping down across stubbled cheeks, as if it were possible for the angel to enjoy this moment of silent peacefulness. The warm, dry California breeze picks up off the waves of the ocean, ruffling both the mop of chocolate coloured hair atop his head and the feathers of the great white wings that rest idly on his back. Every now and then a feather will dance wildly out of place in the wind and the wings will shift—almost of their own accord—and resettle again. These wings that are so very precious to the angel, though unperceived by the human eye, have a particular aura, a sort of vibration all their own. If a human could see these wings, note their size and shape, their color even, perhaps they would remark on the burnished spots, where it looks as though they've dulled from wear over the centuries. Pristine white along the swooping arc that forms from the joint at his back to the very highest point of the wing, and then less and less white as the feathers fall into place downward, until they reach a sort of dark golden hue at their edges. If the colour of an angel's wings is a reflection of the state of their soul, what must Azriel's wings say about him?

The angel's shoes and jacket have been shucked off, the bottoms of his jeans rolled up and his feet now dip into the surface of the water, the lap of the waves tickling his soles. He tries diligently to bar all thoughts from his mind that aren't peaceful or serene, but it's a losing battle from the start, so instead, the angel thinks about his current situation on Earth. Peaceful and serene are a far cry from his existence in general, but he’s already decided that this stay on Earth will be positive. No one likes a brooding complainer. The angel shifts, leaning back, placing his hands on either side of himself, and he stretches his body out, starting with the tips of his toes and ending with his wings. They stretch out to their full length and flap a couple times—not enough to carry the creature attached off, just to loosen the joints and tendons. The white pinions flutter and settle back down, draping themselves around the angel, and he huffs a sigh of a sort of strained contentedness. Sure, his life is a shit-show, but why bitch about it when you’re on vacation? Azriel makes the decision right then and there to try and legitimately enjoy his 'vacation'—within the bounds of acceptable behavior for an Archangel, anyway.

Azriel heaves one last sigh and then stands, taking a second to dip down and roll his pant legs back, then grabs his boots and yanks them on one at a time, lastly flinging his jack over his shoulder. He doesn't have an immediate plan but to enjoy himself, and even though that shouldn't be a scary thing to the angel of destruction, somehow it is. He shrugs on his jacket and glances around to make sure no one is watching him and then, with a few graceful beats of his wings, he shoots up into the air, rising until he blends in with the low-hanging clouds, and flies through the evening sky. Once over the vast forest, he dips down and grazes over the tips of the trees, and the complete freedom of the act makes the corners of his mouth turn up in a little amused grin. Flying has always made the angel feel better, regardless of what was going on in his life. Azriel probably could have kept on flying through the night if it wasn't for a flash of color that stands out in contrast to the dark greenery of the forest floor. The angel stops up short to get a better look, and is met with the sight of a rather young looking blonde kneeling in the dirt.

The smirk leaves his face and he lowers himself through the trees a relative distance away from the girl, not wanting to scare her off. His wings fold in tightly, and he takes the short walk necessary to close the distance between himself and the young woman. A hand reaches up to brush an errant strand of hair out of his eyes. "'Scuse me miss, are you all right?" the angel asks in his gravelly voice, tinged with a sort of Southern accent. Azriel realizes probably a little too late that he's not exactly dressed for hiking, and his presence in the middle of a forest might raise some eyebrows, but upon closer inspection of the blonde, he somehow doesn't think his attire is all that bad. She's covered in blood, kneeling before a slaughtered deer and... is she crying? Yep, definitely crying. "Well, hot damn darlin', are you hurt?" 'Hot damn' might be a strange phrase to hear coming out of an archangel's mouth, but the sight in front of him is beyond the norm—in every sense of the phrase. Azriel takes another cautious step towards the woman—he wants to go right up to her, bend down and see if she's injured—but he knows better than most how finicky humans can be when they're hurt, and scaring her won't do anything to help the situation.

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_{STATUS: completed || TAGGED: cora || WORDS: 907 || MUSIC: the funeral}

[CORA ADELLE RUSKOV]

I CAN FEEL THE ANIMAL INSIDE
MY RESOUND IS WEAKENING
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if there was one think cora refused to do, it was embracing the beast that she was. she was different, horrifically different, and she wasn’t about to encourage that part of her. she wasn’t a stupid woman, by any means. quite the contrary, actually. but cora had begun to condition her mind into thinking ignoring the hybrid she was would eventually make all of her issues go away. of course, they wouldn’t, but denial was the only way of coping she had come up with thus far. without the aid of her phone, her gaze could have easily cut through the darkness to find her way. and just as equally with ease, her strength and agility could have led her out of the lost predicament she currently found herself in. instead, she allowed her mind to panic temporarily, wondering just how she was going to find her way out in one piece.

despite her efforts to cease the use of her heightened senses, cora could not escape the involuntary responses of her body. she had long since soaked the fur of the deer with her tears, growing cold in the breeze as she lay still. it wasn’t until an unfamiliar scent caught her attention, causing the blonde to life her head. she should have been concerned with the intruder that was coming her way, but as always, she remained cool and collected. though she would refuse to admit it, the hybrid knew she would have the upperhand if it came down to a struggle(that is, assuming her opponent was mortal). scanning through the darkness, she attempted to find the source of the new scent, wondering what it could be. it was pure, like something fresh and clean….nothing that had been tainted by the evils of the world….like a calm cologne that was meant to wash away fears and worry, but intimidating all the same. she enjoyed it, briefly.

having been lost in her thoughts and the calm nature of the forest around her (despite her frightening attire), cora hardly noticed the stranger appear before her. where did he come from? she was surprised that she hadn’t heard his arrival, as she had smelled him, but she chalked it up to her being distracted. she jumped as he presented himself before her, quickly getting to her feet. she wasn’t necessarily concerned about her own safety, but rather the idea of her losing control. if the beast she was felt threatened, there was no telling what would happen. brow furrowed as she attempted to hide her worry, instead acting as though she were upset with the man for intruding. he was tall and handsome, almost comforting in a way….but she did not embrace the company of strangers. she had only found out what she was in the last three years or so, also learning of the vampire mother and lycan father she came from. what other ghastly creatures lurk in the night? she did not know, and did not want to find out.

cora attempted to brush a the dirt off her clothing, or rather brush the dirt into the blood on her shirt. perhaps in the dark he wouldn’t notice the blood, and instead would think it was dirt. fat chance, but she could hope. ”i’m fine….just found this deer. someone must have…killed it. hunters are such monsters.” she muttered through her russian accent, searching for the words. of course, that explanation didn’t make a lick of sense, but it wasn’t like she had to answer to this guy. besides, it wasn’t like she was standing over a dead body – it was a deer….just a deer. she kept her eyes upon him, taking a moment to observe him closely. he didn’t appear to be the serial killer type, but then again, he didn’t exactly look prepared for a hike in the woods. hell, who was she to talk? she looked like carrie over here.

she allowed a long moment of silence to pass as she tried to figure the man out, finally finding an answer to his question. ”i’m fine. its not….not my blood.” she looked back at the deer with a silent apology, finding her thoughts straying once more. the supernatural gene could not have struck a more improper person….a guilty hybrid. but perhaps that was just what mortal earth needed – sympathy and appreciation for their weaknesses. ”look, i don’t know if you’re looking to rob me, kill me, or otherwise just have a good time…but you should know neither of those three things are an option. i’m armed, buddy.” was she really? technically, no. unless a cellphone could be counted as a weapon. but she did have her weapons of supernatural destruction if it came down to that. ”do you enjoy sneaking up on young women? “ she couldn’t help but be blunt and slightly rude…not wanting to be mistaken for someone easy to target. it was all just a defense mechanism for her, one which had gotten her far in her life among foster homes. if only she knew what she was dealing with.

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tagged - - - blahhh, next one will be better.
notes - - - meep.
lyrics - - - the animal ,, disturbed.
word count - - - 846.

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[AZRIEL]

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TO KNOW ME AS HARDLY GOLDEN
_{IS TO KNOW ME ALL WRONG, THEY WARN}
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The girl stands up, immediately shying away from him, and Azriel's brow furrows. She brushes herself off as if the stains marring her clothing are no big deal, and the angel takes a step back, trying to look as non-threatening as physically possible--not an easy thing for a 6'5" archangel. Her explanation of the mangled deer carcass on the forest floor seems highly unlikely to the angel, but he doesn't press her, instead noting the Russian lilt of her words, the way she spits them at him like an accusation. He holds up his hands, palms facing outward in a gesture of complete surrender. He's not looking for any kind of fight, and he sure as hell isn't looking to hurt an innocent in the middle of a forest.

At least, Azriel thinks, exhaling a sigh of relief, she's not seriously injured. He might be an angel, but he was built to destroy, not to heal, and that makes this encounter all the more complicated. He can tell by the way she's looking him up and down that she's wary of him--not scared, just cautious--and he can appreciate and even understand that. He feels a little awkward, like he's just intruded on a private moment for this girl, and he begins to think of some sort of excuse to back away from her, leave her to her own devices, when she has her little monologue, tells him she's armed. His dark brow jumps in a sort of amused surprise and he has to stop himself from laughing. He doesn't mean to laugh at her, he knows she not trying to be amusing in the slightest, but the thought of him attempting anything untoward with her truly is funny to him. "Whoa there, ma'am, I can promise ya I don't mean no harm. I just wanted to make sure you were alright; you're quite the sight to behold, all covered in... not your blood. Chivalry hasn't quite died out yet, ya see." The angel gives her a sheepish grin, and scrubs a hand over the back of his neck.

She asks him if he enjoys sneaking up on young girls and this time he doesn't even try to hold in the hearty laugh that rolls out of his throat and carries through the trees. The thought of him sneaking up on some poor unsuspecting woman and taking advantage of her--because she's been pretty clear on what she is expecting from him with her accusing words and wary eyes--is just the funniest thing to the angel. He laughs for a good minute, belly aching, wings rustling around jovially at his back, and man, does it feel liberating. It's probably completely inappropriate for him to carry on so, but he can't remember the last time he's truly laughed, and he's helpless to stop himself. He manages to control himself, and reign his little outburst back in, and he looks back to the girl, face now semi-serious. "I'm sorry, I've had a weird past couple of weeks..." he says, and his voice lowers an octave or two, slightly embarrassed. He attempts to look sheepish once more, hoping he hasn't offended her.

"Ma'am, I can't say that I've ever had the opportunity or the inclination to sneak up on any young women. I can honestly say that this has been a singular experience for me... " he glances toward the deer, then back at the blonde and then shakes his head a bit, eyebrows raised in confusion, bewilderment... a general disbelief of the kind of malarkey he manages to get himself into. His wings flutter and stretch at the thought, and he takes a moment to bend his neck one way and then the other, still unused to all the muscles and tendons this human body has. "Do you make it a habit, running around the middle of the forest in the dead of night....?" he's about to make a comment about how she's covered in blood that's not hers, but decides it's wiser to keep his mouth shut... for once.

The angel shrugs off his jacket and offers it out to her, saying "Are you cold? You can have this, if you'd like it," hoping that it'll be seen as a sign of truce. The air out here in the forest is much cooler than it was by the ocean, and the woman's clothing looks thin and porous, and wasn't he just rattlin' on about how chivalry wasn't dead?

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_{STATUS: complete || TAGGED: cora || WORDS: 749 || MUSIC: the funeral}

[CORA ADELLE RUSKOV]

I CAN FEEL THE ANIMAL INSIDE
MY RESOUND IS WEAKENING
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though cora was a bit of a loner, and attempted to stay out of the spotlight, she did know how to speak her mind when it came down to it. this fact had gotten her into plenty of trouble between school, bullies, and her foster parents, but she didn’t much care. so while she was fairly uncertain, and frankly intimidated by the towering figure standing before her, she did her best to put her grown-up face on. overall, she was a fairly polite and caring person, but rude and stand offish comments always seemed to be the best defense for her. by her way of thinking, if she put herself out there, she’d be less likely to be taken advantage of. wasn’t that how the world worked? stand up to a bully once and they’d leave you alone forever. cora glanced over him warily as he held up his hands, noting that he was gesturing of his peace. the air about him seemed calm and lacking relative darkness, not like the demons she had seen before. her nose led her to believe he was far more than a mortal, having lacked the stench of insolence. her expression softened slightly as she watched him, ensuring equal distance was kept between them.

the young russian was quite skilled at getting out of awkward situations and avoiding the annoying crowd when she ventured into town. she knew just what times of day san diego rested and which stores would be the least crowded. if at all possible, she attempted to stay away from the bustling city. for someone who loved to live under the radar, san diego wasn’t necessarily the best place for her to be, but she was searching for answers. she had caught wind that there was a coven and pack stationed here, and those supernatural beings were the only ones who could help her tame her cravings. so while she was quite talented with getting out of sticky situations and avoiding the rest of the world, it seemed like she couldn’t figure out what to do next, in this situation. here she was, in the middle of the dark woods, with blood all over her. and this random guy just appeared before her. what exactly was she supposed to do? cora ruskov was an intelligent woman but even she was lost. ”like i said….i’m fine.” she did her best to bite her tongue, but couldn’t help herself.

”chivalry is an excuse men use to get to the heartstrings of women. its quite dead, actually.” she had yet to meet a man who didn’t have the same objective on his mind as all the others. but this man didn’t seem that way at all…he seemed rather uninterested, actually. mind you, she was no aprhodite, but cora was a simply beautiful woman. she had men after her, wanting her, as though they were hypnotized. she knew a part of it was due to her gift curse of supernatural life, but she just didn’t know what was causing it. to have someone that wasn’t instantly doting on her was actually enjoyable. hell, she even kind of liked the fact that someone was showing some genuine care for her. not like she would ever admit that, though.

cora couldn’t help but scoff with the roll of her eyes as he began to laugh. who the hell did this guy think he was? she attempted to ignore him but his laughter continued on for far longer than she had expected…only lengthening her awkward silence. ”funny, i didn’t know i was being comical.” her words were dripping with sarcasm, glancing away from him as she searched for a reason to escape the moment. screw it, its not like she needed to give him a reason to leave. they were out in the open and she was a stranger…she could do as she pleased. she heard him speak just as she was turning to leave and couldn’t help but grasp the opportunity to be sarcastic once more. ”sorry, should i have asked your permission first, before going for a jog?” despite her outfit, it was clear that she had not been jogging for the last couple hours…even if that was initially on her schedule.

the vampire blood in her ensured that she was always cold to the touch. unfortunately, she didn’t enjoy the cool comfort as much as a pureblood did. she did her best to stand her ground, but shivered slightly in the cold breeze. as though on cue, she glanced up as he offered his jacket. cora was reluctant to take it but knew she wouldn’t have much energy left if she had to wander back home cold and shaking. taking a step forth, she snatched it from him and drew it over her shoulders. ”just for a minute…i’ll give it right back.” he was either trying to gain her trust to trick her or he was the real deal. ”thank you.” she muttered, reluctant to accept help from him. she took a deep breath in with the welcomed warmth, burying herself in the jacket. there it was gain, his strange scent. her nose was keen, thanks to her lycan father, but she had never smelled anything like him before. ”who are you?” and by who, she meant what, but she wasn’t about to ask that.

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tagged - - - azriel.
notes - - - meep.
lyrics - - - the animal ,, disturbed.
word count - - - 891.

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[AZRIEL]

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TO KNOW ME AS HARDLY GOLDEN
_{IS TO KNOW ME ALL WRONG, THEY WARN}
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This girl is a firecracker, and if anyone can appreciate that, it's Azriel. Never once does she look like she's afraid of him, hell, most of the time she just looks annoyed that he's there. Azriel has always preferred Heaven to Earth, simply because the majority of his time spent on the latter is filled with death and destruction. It's always been easier for the angel to stay in Heaven when he isn't on a mission, so he doesn't have to see the results of his handiwork. It hurts him too much to see Earth, and the comfort of his brethren in Heaven is a salve to his heartache. But that doesn't mean the angel has never spent any of his free time on Earth--there have been a handful of times Azriel has walked among the humans, observed them, even become friends with a few of them. It has never been easy for the angel to let anyone mortal in--if he lets them in, he'll get attached, and if he gets attached, he'll have to watch as they grow old and eventually die, and that's just too much for him--but it's not completely impossible. It'd be easy to assume that because he's the Archangel of Destruction, he's stony and cold, but Azriel is truly a gentle soul. He's not the type to dote over an injured animal or cry over spilt milk, but Azriel does care deeply about humanity.

The few mortals he's befriended over his many centuries have always been strong-willed and stubborn, probably because like often attracts like, and Azriel just happens to be a bit pig-headed about... well, most things. But this girl, the angel likes her fire, the way she isn't taking any crap from him. It's refreshing. Azriel smirks again, as she matter-of-fact-ly tells him that chivalry is indeed dead. He manages to hold back the chuckle that threatens to escape his mouth, and instead shakes his head a little. "I'll make you a deal, how 'bout you keep your heart-strings, and I'll go on foolin' myself into thinkin' I'm a gentleman," he says, and then he gives her an innocent wink.

He actually does feel bad for laughing; truly he wasn't laughing at her, just at the situation. The thought of hurting anyone makes him feel weird, because if he had it his way, the angel wouldn't hurt a fly. If he could have chosen his destiny, it probably would'a been something more along the lines of archangel of leaving humanity the hell alone, but he really didn't get much of a say in things, and anyway, that's not really Heaven's MO. Interfering and meddling is pretty high on their to-do list, and what's an angel to do? Azriel isn't prepared to go against his own operating system just yet, so he'll shove on, doing as he's told. The girl is beginning to look altogether done with his crap, and she turns, ready to leave. Azriel shuts his mouth and takes a step closer, a hand reaching out, not wanting her to run off thinking he's a big jerk. Really, he shouldn't care what this human thinks of him, but he does, and when she whirls around and spits another sarcastic remark at him, he doesn't come back with some smart alecky rejoinder like he'd usually do. Instead, he holds up his hands again in parley. "I'm sorry ma'am, of course you don't need my permission for anything."

He's relieved when she takes his jacket--he sorta thought she'd tell him to stick it up his ass or something--even if she does snatch it away from him like she thinks maybe if she gets too close he'll bite her. He doesn't say anything though, and when she thanks him, he cracks a toothy grin. "You're welcome. Keep it as long as ya need it," he says, taking another small step closer. There's a fallen log just to the left of him, and he steps over to it and perches atop it, wings shifting to avoid the brush and branches that stick out all around them. His smile doesn't dim as he watches her huddle down into his jacket. He's only wearing a dark green t-shirt underneath, but the temperature outside doesn't bother him either way. His form may appear to be human, but it's makeup is angelic, and angels just happen to be made of tougher stuff than most. The blonde turns her attention back to him, asking him who he is, but the way she asks it, he can almost hear the question implied underneath her words, and he grins. It's not like the angel hasn't thought about the idea of this girl being more than just a human. He can see it in the way she moves, her scent--even though most of it is masked with the smell of blood--and the way she appraises him like she's sizing him up for a fight. If Azriel was any other angel, this girl might've had a much different experience, as most of his brothers are the "smite first, ask questions never," types.

"I'm Azriel, pleased to make your acquaintance, ma'am," he says, holding out a hand for her to shake. He doesn't bother giving himself a fake name--really he doesn't bother doing much to hide what he is. If the girl asks, he'll tell her, and more than likely she won't believe him, but angels are pretty shitty liars, so what's the point in trying? His wings rustle as if in agreement, and he smiles at her again. "What about you?"

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_{STATUS: complete || TAGGED: cora || WORDS: 935 || MUSIC: the funeral}

[CORA ADELLE RUSKOV]

I CAN FEEL THE ANIMAL INSIDE
MY RESOUND IS WEAKENING
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at this point, cora was working so hard to convey her bold energy that she wasn’t sure she’d be ready to quickly defend an attack if one came at her. that was the thing about her; always getting wrapped up in the situation. sometimes, it was actually humorous. of course, not to her, but to those in her wake. she was a book-smart type of girl, always looking for opportunities to read and enhance her understand of herself whenever she could. despite a broken home in her younger years, she had always done well in school and achieved great honors. if it wasn’t for learning of what she was, she probably would have moved onto a high rated university. ah well, she had plenty of years ahead of her for that. after all, she was going to look as though twenties forever…she could pull it off. likewise to her great marks in education, cora was rather clever with plans and tactical situations. the blueprints for a situation came easily to her…it was the execution which tended to elude her. like now, she tended to get stuck on the details of her first move. thus far, she had been lucky, but one day, it was going to get her in trouble.

with all the damage done to her soul (and not by her own accord) over the years, it was becoming increasingly harder for the blonde to trust much of anyone. everyone she seemed to let into her life always let her down or faded away. friends had always been few and far between and with no real family, her biological parents dead, she had nothing. nothing but a fat inheritance which she could have done away with. by the way she lived, many would have thought cora barely had a penny to her name. most of her time was spent outdoors, enjoying what nature had to offer her…that is, what part of nature she didn’t destroy. she had a small apartment in town above a nightclub and she tucked herself away when there. her place was filled with mismatched furniture, a small television, and a goldfish. the only thing there that actually indicated some sort of life was the photography scattered throughout the house. photos lined the walls, camera equipment covered her tables, and she had managed to turn her walk-in closet to a tiny darkroom. had she had anyone to show the place, they would have seen just how creative she was. instead, this was the façade she put on for the rest of the world…this one she was displaying for the man here.

”yeah, we’ll see.” she wasn’t in any position to tell him what he could and couldn’t do and she certainly wasn’t about to continue arguing about the archaic means of chivalry. besides, this was the first time she had ever seen the guy and she sure as hell didn’t expect to wander across paths with him again. san diego was one hell of a big city and she’d be surprised if she ever crossed paths with anyone on more than one occasion…especially considering the fact that she attempted to stray from the city whenever possible. if anyone were truly looking for her, on a regular basis, they’d be better off looking out here or near the ocean. after all, those were the places she enjoyed taking her camera and capturing the beauty of the land. nothing in the city could offer beauty like that, so she had no reason to be there.

cora couldn’t help but feel as though the man before her was from a different time. he appeared about as normal as any other joe that walked down the street (minus his scent, of course), but he talked far too politely for someone of this day and age. mine you, there was nothing proving her theory, but something hinted at her….like something was just off about him. it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, but she was growing increasingly frustrated with not knowing. it was typical for her to be so cautious as to want to know everything about everyone else, without releasing any details of own life. she wasn’t selfish, by any means, but rather thought herself better off by knowing the dirty little secrets of the world…while hiding yours. ”it was kidding…but whatever.” more like being sarcastic.

if there was one thing cora really hated, it was taking favors from others. she hated the idea of being in debt to anyone, even if it were something as simple as offering a compliment, or a jacket. she had grown up taking care of herself and felt it in her best interest to continue doing so. however, her current situation led her to take the man’s ‘favor’. she wasn’t sure what his agenda was, or why he felt like offering his clothing to a stranger, but she was just happy to have the warmth. it saddened her to know that it was already fall and the weather was growing ever colder. it was partially the warmth that led her from new york to san diego. she hated witnessing the death that winter brought along…at least here, things were slightly more preserved. ”why are you so kind to me? i’m nothing but a stranger to you. most of the people here won’t even say hello when you pass them on the street, let alone do what you have done.” she told herself she didn’t care and that she needed to be wary of him, but really, she was curious.

she felt her mouth go dry as he spoke, wishing she had the bottle of water she started out her run with. her expression changed with his words, holding back the urge to gasp. she knew he couldn’t have been mortal, but was he really the angel? ”the azriel? you can’t be an angel...” she steady her voice, letting the harsh edge fade slightly. as rude as she had been, she was lucky he hadn’t smited her right then and there. cora leaned in to shake his hand, moreso out of worry for her safety than anything else. the last thing she needed was to piss him off further. she forced herself to take a breath before returning his introduction with her own name. ”cora ruskov.” she hadn’t bothered explaining herself any further…only hoping she wasn’t going to be subject to any scrutiny. half of the supernatural world wanted her dead for betrayal her parents had done in creating her. the other half wanted to use her unbridled power to defeat the other races. either way, she knew she was a dead woman. she only hoped her life was not going to be over on this night, at the hands of an angel. then again, that’s if he was telling the truth.

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tagged - - - azriel!
notes - - - meep.
lyrics - - - the animal ,, disturbed.
word count - - - 1136.

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[AZRIEL]

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TO KNOW ME AS HARDLY GOLDEN
_{IS TO KNOW ME ALL WRONG, THEY WARN}
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Truthfully, it doesn't bother the angel that this woman is being so cold and sarcastic with him. He knows better than anyone how it feels to never trust another person, to constantly put up a front of cold indifference. Hell, it'd only taken him a couple thousand years to even speak to a human, so he can empathize with her in this moment. His wings stretch and rustle, a sort of subconscious reflex of being in an awkward situation. Even though the great white and gold pinions don't actually interact with the tangible world on Earth, that doesn't stop them from acting just as they would in Heaven. They're as much a part of him as anything else on his physical body, and they've always been the thing to give away his mood--at least in Heaven, anyway.

She catches him off-guard by asking him why he's being nice to her, and his dark brow furrows, and he chews on his bottom lip for a moment, contemplating his answer. It's never occurred to the angel that he could be anything other than polite to those he interacts with on Earth, so it's a strange thing when someone questions just why he's behaving the way he naturally behaves. "I s'pose kindly is just sorta written into my DNA," he responds with a shrug, crossing his arms together over his chest. Even if he weren't an angel, Azriel thinks he'd still be the polite sort. He thinks it might have something to do with the fact that the first time he walked among humans was during the Civil War era of the United States in the Confederate south. It's where his southern accent comes from, and all his southern charm. He picked up his human behavior from the likes of Rhett Butler and Scarlett O'Hara, and it resounded with him in an big way, that Southern sense of politeness and hospitality.

She's thrown him off a little, but he recovers pretty quickly when her expression turns incredulous and she tells him he can't possibly be an angel. He chuckles softly, tucking his chin under almost as if he's embarrassed at his notoriety, and then he glances up at the woman for a moment before closing his eyes and focusing. It can only be the span of a breath, maybe two, but it feels like an eternity for the angel to make his wings real, tangible and completely visible to the young woman standing before him. They rustle and open, spreading themselves wide around him, as if waking up from a deep sleep, making themselves known in the world around them. In the dark lighting of the forest, the pristine white at the top of the joint glows radiantly, growing more and more dim as the white fades to gold. "Azriel the angel, at your service," he says, uncrossing his arms and leaning forward, like he's bowing to a crowd. He omits the Archangel of Destruction part of his title because he's learned the hard way that it doesn't sound very friendly, and he's not interested in scaring the wits out of this poor girl anymore than he already has--supernatural blood or no. His wings resettle delicately, folding up against his back and he's surprised when she takes his hand and introduces herself in return. "I'm pleased to meet ya, Cora Ruskov," he says, parroting her name back to her as if to taste it on his tongue, and he finds he likes the way it sounds. He releases her hand, dropping his own only to cross it back against his chest.

It's not like he doesn't see the shift in her demeanor, the way her cold contempt turns to something that looks a little like fear--he sees all of it, but he won't mention it--it only saddens him. This is one of those things that's always gotten in the way when he's tried to make friends in the past. He can be as kind as the day is long, but it still doesn't change how people tend to view him. Even if they aren't aware of his angelic origins, he's got a sort of aura, something that intimidates those he's near, and if he could change that he would. Azriel wants to be close to humanity, but humanity would rather stay as far away from the Archangel as they possibly can. He doesn't blame them, but it's still a tough pill to swallow for the kind-hearted creature. "I'm not gonna smite ya, if you were worryin' about that," he assures with a chuckle, as if the business of smiting is a funny thing. Azriel has never really been the smiting type--he just doesn't have that holy rage in him like his brothers. "I tend to be a little softer than some of my other, more zealous brothers." The angel scrubs a hand over the back of his neck again, closing his eyes briefly to will his wings back into their own dimensional plane--they can be a little intimidating in their own right.

He gives the girl an inquisitive once over, noting the way she stands and how she holds herself, and he finds himself curious about her. This is the first time he's ever had a run in with a human in this manner, so up-close-and-personal, and he finds it interesting in a way that most wouldn't. Almost every other time he's had a conversation with a mortal, they've been in the middle of some bustling place with other people scurrying around, and there's always been some sort of cushion, a safety net of watching eyes there for the human involved. Azriel imagines that this private meeting of the two would be unnerving to anyone in general, and certainly to one of the supernatural blood, as he has come to suspect of Cora. Part of him is curious about her lineage, and part of him would rather stay in blissful ignorance, because what he doesn't know, won't make him want to smite anyone. "Well, Miss Ruskov, now that we're properly introduced, it would certainly put my mind at ease if you allowed me to see you out of this forest, but that's only if ya don't mind an old crow like myself slowin' ya down." The angel stands to his full height, and then leans down slightly to brush some debris off his jeans. He's given Cora full control of the situation, she can tell him to go buzz off at any point, and he'll (for the most part) honor that wish.

That doesn't mean--if she does tell him to buzz off--that he won't fly around over the forest, keeping a wary eye out, just to make sure she gets out alright, but what she doesn't know, won't hurt her. Angels may suck at lying, but omission... well, it's just a sight easier to get away with.

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_{STATUS: complete || TAGGED: cora || WORDS: 1,150 || MUSIC: the funeral}

[CORA ADELLE RUSKOV]

I CAN FEEL THE ANIMAL INSIDE
MY RESOUND IS WEAKENING
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

when it came to the world that thrived among the mortals, the hidden world of the supernatural, cora had seen only the tip of the iceberg. in retrospect, she actually knew very little about her kind. to be truthful, she knew nothing of her own kind and seemed to know more about those around her than anything else. thus far, she didn’t quite understand what it meant to be a hybrid, seeing as she had no one else to compare herself to. from the note that she was left by her parents, she gathered that she was the first of her species, a special girl who was bound for greatness and the hands of destiny. cora wasn’t too sure she believed any of that mumbo jumbo but the letter, and a handsome inheritance, were the only thing possessed from her parents. while she wanted to believe everything her mother had written to her on her deathbed, she wasn’t sure she could trust the word of a woman she had never seen face to face. she supposed she could wrap her hands around the vampire-lycan aspect of things, having always been interested in sci-fi movies and such. it should have been just as easy for her to believe in angels and demons, but that was a whole other story. as of this moment in time, she thought it in her best interest to believe only what was before her eyes.

those who were truly pure-hearted, with no other objectives in mind, were a rare find in san diego, let alone the world. cora looked out for only herself, for the most part, but only because she knew she was a target to most of the immortal race. if she was not careful, it would surely lead to her early demise. but she differed some a selfish person in the sense that she would help out where needed. if it came down to a life or death situation, she wasn’t above helping those in need. no, she was nothing like the rest of the city who needed their fancy lifestyles and gadgets to thrive…she loved her simplicity, however, would have appreciated a friend. she just wasn’t sure looking for friendship in total strangers, especially with the dawning of a war upon them, was the best idea. ”i can’t imagine you have that notion returned all that often.” maybe if he went somewhere south or in the middle of nowhere, but certainly not here.

the last thing cora had been prepared for was to see an angel in true from, spreading his wings before her. she knew little about them, other than the lore of the bible, but she couldn’t even be sure what was true. three years ago she had been a normal mortal woman, looking for her place in a world she clearly didn’t fit into. she had heard of dracula and seen rise of the lycans, but never dreamt such things could be real. if she had been told that today, she would be peering at an angel, she would have had a hard time believing it. yet, here she was. without even noticing, a faint smile had blossomed across her lips as she watch azriel’s wings unfold. they were beautiful, like something straight out of a storybook or an immaculate dream….picturesque. it was dark and even despite her excellent eyesight, she was sure anyone would have been able to see the unearthly glow that he seemed to emit. if she had ever wanted to take a picture of anything so badly, it would have been this. but lacking her camera and having some sense of tact, she knew the moment wouldn’t have allowed for it. she fought back the urge to act like a school girl, instead, suppressing her surprise the best she could. ”well that’s certainly the way to make me a believer….wow.”

she couldn’t help but laugh slightly at his comment about being at her service. what was she supposed to do? bow? somehow, shaking his hand didn’t seem like the appropriate thing now. after all, here he was, a servant of god…and what was she? just a mutt with muddled blood. ”forgive me if i seem a bit lost about…all this….as of three years ago, i was just your typical lost kid who grew up in the system. now i find out that all these monsters are real, angels are real. it’s a bit…much. “ she half hoped he could provide some answers to her. it probably wasn’t the smartest of her to divulge so much information but she couldn’t help but feel comfort in his presence. ”are you sure you’re really azriel?” she half joked, unsure if that was really proper for her to do around him. still, for someone so kind and seemingly gentle, it was hard to believe he could be known as a counterpart to destruction. she may have been blind to the real nature of the world for most of her life, but that hadn’t meant she was without the faith of the bible.

”glad to hear that…i’ve done enough running from the world.” she emitted a soft sigh, happy to hear that she was not in danger. even if she had been, however, she doubted she was a match for an angel. being what she was, she needed to force herself to understand that a large variety of people were always going to want her dead, no matter what. so while she was safe for today, she knew she might as well accept the fact. she was half surprised that the conversation switched to the abandonment of the forest rather than who she was. then again, perhaps he already knew. wasn’t that what angels did? watch people from the boughs of heaven? well, truth was, she didn’t know what they really did. ”as much as i find the forest peaceful, i suppose i should be getting home.” it wasn’t like she really had anything to return home to, but she thought it would seem odd if she chose to stay put. despite her feeding off the deer, she still felt an incredible hunger…something that she would not disclose to him. for all she knew, she was just another monster to him that needed to be put down. ”i’m clearly not much of a people person, but i wouldn’t mind your company. besides, if you don’t walk with me, you’ll never get your jacket back.” she remembered the warmth it had provided, snuggling inside of it. she seemed altogether a much happier woman, but she was more relieved than anything else. she tried to hard to put up this front that sometimes, it was nice to let it down and skip all the exhaustion.

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tagged - - - azriel!
notes - - - meep.
lyrics - - - the animal ,, disturbed.
word count - - - 1123.

[/blockquote]
[/blockquote]

[AZRIEL]

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
TO KNOW ME AS HARDLY GOLDEN
_{IS TO KNOW ME ALL WRONG, THEY WARN}
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Azriel is altogether pleased when Cora smiles at him as his wings unfurl instead of cowering in fear. His own smile spreads, white teeth gleaming in the darkness of the forest along with his wings. Her laughter is a welcome sound, and he chuckles softly along with her. Though this situation is far from ordinary for either of them, the angel is pleased that--at least now that Cora knows he's not going to smite her--it can be mostly entertaining. His expression sobers slightly when she tells him that all this--the existence of the supernatural, the angels and the demons, all the stuff of dreams and nightmares and legends and myths--it's all new to her. He certainly can't empathize with that feeling, though he knows that it must be difficult for one's world view to be completely rewritten so suddenly--the angel has seen it happen to more than one mortal in his centuries of existence, so at the very least, he can sympathize.

His grin reappears when she asks him if he's sure that he's the angel Azriel, and he looks down, as if to check, patting his chest and then his face before he looks back up to her. "Last time I checked, anyway." His head tilts to one side, observing Cora's face when she tells him she's done enough running, and his brow furrows. Who exactly has the woman been running from, or even more appropriately, what has she been running from? It kind of makes sense to him now, why she was so skittish and wary of him when he first came across her, and a slight frown turns down the corners of his mouth. Though he doesn't know hardly a thing about this woman, he's always had a sort of uncanny sense of people's character. He's always been good at telling when people are pure at heart, and to him, Cora seems to be someone who, at her very core, is a good person. Azriel is a firm believer that supernatural blood does not automatically make one a monster.

He takes a step closer to her, his head tilted downward, warm chocolate and caramel eyes appraising her curiously. He inhales, analyzing her scent and is disappointed when all he can smell is the blood covering her shirt. "I have to ask, for the sake of sating my curiosity--but please, don't feel obligated to answer..." He takes another step forward, moving slowly, carefully. "I know you're not a demon, you don't smell..." he pauses for a moment, considering a polite and adequate way of describing the way a demon smells to him, and he's drawing a blank; they smell like the worst kinds of things in the world to the angel. "well, you don't smell like one of them," he finally says, lamely, with a noncommittal shrug of his broad shoulders. "I'd wager you're not exactly human though, either." He says this with a little guffaw and a wink, and even though this subject isn't one he takes lightly, it's not something he's willing to immediately condemn a person for like 99% of his brethren would.

He takes another slow step forward, noting the way her lovely blonde hair is bound up in a little band--and without much thought, he pinches a couple strands in between his fingers, dips his head and inhales briefly to catch her true scent, then drops the hair and pulls his hand back. He hadn't meant it to be an intimate moment, but the way his index finger grazes over the line of her lower jaw as he draws his hand back... it's a gesture a lover would make, and the angel immediately realizes he's crossed a line he didn't mean to, and his cheeks blush bright red. He takes a long-legged step back, and begins attempting to stammer out an apology when the full force of her scent registers in his mind. She smells lovely and spicy, sort of like the exhilarating combination of cinnamon and the smell of the Earth after it rains. This realization only causes the angel to blush a deeper red and thicken his tongue to the point that he's speechless.

"I... I'm sorry," he finally manages, running clumsy fingers through his mop of chocolate brown hair. "You smell very nice," he adds with a sheepishly crooked grin, hoping a compliment--even such a half-cocked one--will help allay his embarrassment. He turns toward the west and then tilts his head back down to Cora, extending a hooked arm in the true fashion of a southern gentleman and gives the woman another one of those unintentionally self-deprecating smiles he can't help. "Shall we?"

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_{STATUS: complete || TAGGED: cora || WORDS: 781 || MUSIC: the funeral}

[CORA ADELLE RUSKOV]

I CAN FEEL THE ANIMAL INSIDE
MY RESOUND IS WEAKENING
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

there was no denying that cora wasn’t worried about the intentions of the angel before her. but as before, she was reluctant to show her fear and instead, offered up something else: friendliness. it was not an emotion she wore often, or perhaps even well, especially with the morons in the city of san diego. still, it felt nice to be able to relax slightly. after all, her face was far too pretty for brooding and frowns all the time. she knew better than to completely led her guard down, but so far, she had become more comfortable around him than just about anyone else in the last few years. perhaps it was the idea of an angel of the lord in her presence that protected her thoughts and fears. if she was going to be safe around anyone, it was likely to be him, right? even if he was an angel of destruction….thus far, she had seen nothing destructive about him other than the way he had destructed her protective wall.

cora smiled lightly at him as he seemed to check himself, finding slight humor in him. if he didn’t know any better, he probably would have considered her bipolar, or something of that sort. it was as though a switch had been flipped, causing the petite blonde to be much more lively than her previous state of defense. ”i feel like i should be asking you for an autograph or something like that….i’ve never met an angel before.” it was true, he was the first…and she wasn’t even sure they were real up until this point. if there was anything she could appreciate about the moment, it was the fact that her mind had strayed from the horrible dream and the reality that she had killed yet another innocent creature. though it was not a human, she could not help but feel the twinge of guilt. she had to admit she was also slightly relieved to have avoided any questions from her regarding the blood on her clothing and mangled deer. he had probably figured her situation, or maybe knew. either way, she wasn’t about to bring it up randomly. if there was one thing cora was usually upset about, it was the fact that she couldn’t choose her own fate. she was told by man that she was special as the first of her kind; a force not to be reckoned with. but all she had ever wanted was a chance at a normal life. as soon as she had turned of age and escape the foster system, she had another burden placed upon her shoulders. and unlike many of the other supernatural beings, she couldn’t even reflected upon what she was. she wasn’t in the wrong place at the wrong time when she got attacked…nor did she choose this life. instead, she was born into it, never able to escape.

just as though he had read her thoughts, azriel began to question her. of course, she felt no threat in his words, but was still uneasy about them. she was slightly surprised that he didn’t know what she was, but cora was also relieved. how was she to answer that question? she didn’t even know what she was. others had told her she was a hybrid, a halfbreed…any number of things. all she knew was that she was just a mutt with no family. she waved her hand at his politeness, acting as though his question wasn’t out of place…even though she was uncomfortable with answer it. ”the truth is, i don’t really know what i am…” of course she knew the technical name, but she didn’t know the logistics. all she knew was that she had an insatiable love for flesh and bone. ”my father was a lycan and my mother was a vampire…” as she let her voice trail off, she offered up an uneasy laugh. ”that sounds so ridiculous.” it was the first time she admitted her lineage aloud and here she was, telling it to an angel. ”all i want to be is normal.” she pleaded, mostly with herself, but it was almost as though she were asking azriel to help her. who was she kidding? he was no genie.

it had been some time since cora had last felt the hand of another person, whether mortal or not. she certainly had her fair share of suitors after her but after an unfortunate run-in with a boyfriend of hers, she chose to steer clear. the last thing she wanted was to harm someone else she care for…not again. when the angel reached for her, she made no indications of fleeing though she had to admit she was worried. a quizzical look graced her features as he grasped her hair, seeming to enjoy the moment. she was nothing short of confused but let him do as he pleased, leaning into his touch slightly as his finger grazed her warm skin. as he began to speak of an apology, cora shook herself from her thoughts, scolding herself silently for letting herself become so vulnerable. it was a not a moment she regretted nor was ashamed of, but she could feel her cheeks flush red along with his. the halfbreed smiled at him reassuringly, shaking her head slightly as he began to mutter. ”you angels need to learn to loosen up.” she joked, only hoping it wouldn’t be taken the wrong way.

cora smirked with a small laugh as he offered his arm, wondering just how old he was. it was gesture she had seen in old fashioned movies or something than friends did in a joking manner. still, she felt obligated and hooked her arm through his. ”you know, i have to admit this is not how i expected my evening to turnout…let alone my first encounter with an angel.”

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tagged - - - azriel!
notes - - - blahhh.
lyrics - - - the animal ,, disturbed.
word count - - - 976.

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