It was just after sunset as Lanya headed out of the Slytherin common room. Her hair was pinned back at the sides but the rest of her raven locks flowed down her back, drifting in the wind as she made her way purposefully up the stairs and towards the library. In her arms, she clutched a few books. The common room was a tad too rowdy for her this evening. One of the fifth years set off a few pixies for fun and giggles. But the fourth year needed to focus.
Her parchment and quill were all neatly tucked into her satchel at her side. And her wand stuck out in front, ready for her to grab at any moment. She kept herself alert for any attacks that might come her way. As much as Hogwarts had made her feel included, there were still those who would go out of their way to harass the vampire. She usually took evening classes and studied one-on-one with certain professors. This kept her out of the daylight but also kept her from interacting with most of the other student body. Lucky for her, she was quite adept at Charms. This proved helpful when taking her two courses she couldn’t reschedule. The professors all knew of her condition but the student body was mostly kept unawares.
Lanya entered the library and found a table. She sat down and opened her books up. From her bag, she pulled out a roll of parchment, a quill and some ink. It was time to do her potions essay over sleeping draughts. She frowned, not seeing a book that she needed. Since she was allowed to wander the library at night, she knew exactly where the book would be. After making her way around the shelves, she frowned when it wasn’t in its proper place. The vampire glanced around and saw the book she was looking for. Unfortunately for her, someone else had it.
She walked up to them. “Excuse me. I could really use that after you’re finished.” she said, nodding to the book.
The android was sent in a glass container, offline. It looked almost like a perfect human, save for the openings in her forearms and the purple optics. But her skin and hair seemed real, and her voice was robotic, yet still had a hint of realism to it, as if someone was pretending to be a robot. She needed to be fully tested and optional in a month, so it was important for her to be turned on as soon as possible.
“Okay. Fine you want to know why I left?” She asked as she put her hands over her stomach. “I’m finally pregnant and I don’t want to fuck it up this time okay?” She said quietly. “Please don’t tell anyone. If word gets out there’ll be too many people telling me to abort it or want to take it…” She sighed. “I don’t want my baby getting hurt because of me…”
Sabella was out on the haunt for some ‘nutrients’ when she smells the delicious smell of arousal, she moves through the clouds heading to the smell with a happy hum. Sabella gets to a window where the smell is coming from, she uses a spell on the window to unlock before opening it up. She gets in and smiles happily. “Hello~ nice to meet you~!” She said happily.
The orphanage was obviously a little run down, even as the staff bustled about and the children played and were educated. It was clean up day as a potential family was coming today. Everything had to look prim and proper, the children had to look their best. A pair of twins cleaned themselves up, as best they could being connected at the sides. Everything they did, they had to do together.
Eventually, the time came. When one of the staff members was leading around the potential parent(s), introducing children as they went. The twins stood up properly, the twin with longer hair pulled it back from his face. Maybe this was the one… Once they were walking past the conjoined twins, the staff member gave them a dismissive look and continued to walk.
“I’m sorry about that, we have plenty of normal children.”
The twins just watched quietly, knowing it was useless anyway. No body wanted them.
“Is that Ollie’s tummy? Does this tickle Ollie?” She said playfully as she kissed her son’s stomach. She didn’t realize someone was in the doorway. She was too focused on her little one. Becca was just glad that her room in the tower was big enough for baby supplies.
Alex was sitting in his apartment, all the lights off. He was holding a glass of fine scotch that he gulping down rather then savouring. The operation had gone down badly. One agent dead, two injured and four civilians had been killed in the blast. A sob caught in his throat and a tear ran down his cheek. It wasn’t any ones fault apparently. The brass had already ruled it a simple factor of being in the field. Alex didn’t understand how anyone could see it that simply. People had died. He gulped down the rest of the scotch and was contemplating another glass when there was a knock at his door. He froze and his hand went to his gun on the coffee table. He wasn’t expecting anyone so who could be at the door.
It had only been a few weeks since the twins decided to leave the orphanage. They had found a small alley to hide in, collecting a few things from garbage cans and nearby stores to make their shelter and home. Staying out of sight didn’t matter, as no one was looking for them, but also impossible when you had two heads but one body. People stared where ever they went, made pickpocketing harder, not impossible though.
For now, they were setting up their cot for the night when noises from the end of the alley disturbed them. Hesitantly, they looked at each other before approaching the noise.
“..Hello..?” The twin on the left called out, while the twin on the right clung to his brother’s arm.
“Is… is that an omega? That isn’t going to be a fair fight…” The whisper kept going around the growing crowd. It was true. Bruce had been put into this fight because he refused to obey any of the alphas. They thought that maybe if he was given a chance to ‘fight’ and truly see that he was beneath them that he’d calm down a little. They didn’t know about his wolfish condition, or the fact that no matter what Bruce wasn’t going to fight back.
Bruce was tried of taking orders from everyone just because he was omega. It wasn’t even like he was a good one either. His father had ruined that for him…
Loki hadn’t had much luck lately. He had had a scrap with another feline shapeshifter that had left him with a damaged wind pipe that meant he couldn’t sing. With his voice damaged he wasn’t any help to his band and he was left to sit on the sidelines while his band played on, the backup singer in his place.
Sighing he sat at the bar bandages on the scratch wounds coating his arms sipping on lukewarm tea while he sulked cringing as he swallowed feeling sorry for himself as he tucked his dark hair behind his ears.
The night was young when a tall, black haired man was sitting in the back room of a bar with a cigarette in his mouth, a glass of Whiskey in his one hand and a bunch of money in the other hand, Andrew, the name he was called, sat in a large chair and observed some of half naked women which were dancing and touching themselves in front of him. It was eventually a normal view for him since he came here at least two days of a week and booked different girls to have some fun for a couple of hours.
“Be good to yourself, girls.” He demanded harshly, showing a naughty smirk.
The pup looked up, some what in shock. This wasn’t his cage or even his home. He physically felt to tired to even whimper. His ears were flattened against his head, hidden by the fluffy pillow. His tail felt stiff and he could barely move it at the moment. He finally glanced at the human sitting next to him in confusion. That wasn’t his human… h-his human wouldn’t have given him such comfy pillows. The pup didn’t remember that it was his owner that had done this to him.
The three-year-old twins ran quickly away from the SSP officer, both of them with tears pouring down their cheeks. Not really looking where they were going, they both bumped right into someone, and tried to run off before the person grabbed their arms.
“No, off, bad person gonna hurt us!” Cecil cried, trying to squirm away.
Kevana tried to hit the person to have them let go. “Off, off, off! Gotta hide!”
a lone figure stands amongst a field of roses, his posture that of a broken man and his skin covered in a myriad of scars, slashes and other wounds. as blood drips from behind the rusted mask he wears, a slight whimpering can be heard from him, its sound almost like that of a young animal separated from its mother. he collapses to the ground, and begins to bellow loudly “WHY, WHY, WHY!?” he screams in clear agony as he starts tearing at himself with his bare hands, opening gashes in his legs and arms as if trying to end it all