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    Brandgefahr | PG13

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    Karmzy
    Sixth Year
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    Brandgefahr | PG13

    Post by Karmzy on Fri Jul 06, 2012 3:36 pm

    This thread is rated for violence.


    Brandgefahr - Fire hazard
    Materials, structures or processes that may result in creating a fire, permitting a fire to grow undetected, or preventing people from escaping a fire.


    This is the Church, This is the Steeple

    The church, in itself, was magnificent. Stained glass windows with different images from the tales of this faith, a child held high with a golden halo, a shepard with a long wooden staff, sunlight showing through clouds onto the image of kneeling followers.

    The sky itself did not seem to agree. Thick clouds rolled, thunder threatened as the storm started to form, swirling in anger at her daring. For the reason she was here. Lightning hopped from place to place, eager to strike her down for her sins. For her madness. Her audacity.

    Candela didn't care.

    Girl and panther stood in the shadows of the alleyway, watching the members of the same group of radicals exit the familiar white van with the black cross. She'd researched these three leaders obsessively, tracked their every movement, mapped out their schedules from the moment they woke to the moment their head hit their pillows every night, waited patiently for them to call their little band together.

    This was that night.

    The storm had brewed as she waited for the others, a ragtag group of around twenty members, to get there, seemingly a warning against whatever she was planning.

    It wouldn't work. Not tonight. Demonboy did not fear lightning, and neither would she.

    Her fingers flexed through the iron lined fingerless gloves, moving against the familiar leather texture. They would work. She had faith.

    A dark chuckle bubbled up from her throat at that thought.

    Faith.

    The skies opened, and she was soon soaked with the tears of the angels, already in mourning for the loss of innocence. Shame. Hers was lost so long ago, just as she'd lost her mother.

    Open the doors, and See all the People

    A streak of lightning illuminated her as she made her way to the main entrance, highlighting the flames on her leather jacket, the midnight black of the panther's fur, and a flash of fang from both. Thunder crashed as she pushed the door open, stepping into the light of the candlebra lit place. She paused to take in the beauty of it, marble and wood in harmony, the look of the stained glass when lit by thousands of candles, the simple comfort of the red velvet cushions on the alter, the smooth touch of the wood on the confessions boxes.

    "This is a private meeting!" growled one of the leaders in German. He was in his priest garb today. Touching.

    The room had turned and looked at her, each of the human's faces closed off in judgement. She stepped father forward, allowing for the door to slip closed behind her. A quick twitch of her fingers, and the exit was locked. She'd already seen to all the others.

    Taking a measured step forward, then another, she made her way up the center isle, straight toward the man. Puddles of water remained where she stepped on the wooden floor, boots against wood the only sound in the suddenly silent room but for the whispers of shadows.

    "Forgive me, Father." She said, her voice carrying despite the fact that she was speaking in an even tone. Her brown eyes, decidedly between dark and light, glistened in the candle light as they stayed on the man. He was the one in charge here. "For I have sinned." She came to a stop before him, nonplussed by the fact that he was at least a head taller than her, her eyes staying on his as she moved forward. His green eyes stared back, completely enraptured as they dilated as well.

    "I've sinned a lot."

    Close the Doors...

    There was a gasp, and suddenly they were all aware of the panther padding down after her, claws clicking with every step. Curling its lips back in a snarl, the great cat looked from one side of pews to the other, seemingly undecided. The only ones who payed no attention were the vampire and her priest. Pressing her palms against the man's robe-clad chest, the young halfling pushed him backward gently, guiding him to sit on the alter.

    "Stay." The man nodded, though he could barely understand the language, the command stayed the same.

    She moved to Nightmare's side, looking one way while the cat looked the other, and switching at the same time. "Which ones do you want, Nightie?" The halfbreed's own eyes caught on a girl her age, also wearing a leather jacket, but there the similarities ended. Her hair was auburn, her skin a luminescent pale that reminisced of moonlight, her simple white dress and the golden crucifix chained around her neck a beacon of chastity. Her bright brown eyes widened as she realized she was the sole occupent of the vampire's focus, and it was her that showed the first indication of fear of the girl, rather than the panther. Curling into the side of the older boy who was obviously her brother was the thing that sealed her fate, the simple instinctual lean toward comfort the final nail on her coffin.

    Nightmare was already in motion on the other side, pouncing onto the nearest man and tearing out his throat with ferocious speed and strength. This was where the panic officially started. It took him crumpling to the ground beneath the cat for the crowd of humans to panic and run, but not for the door. They returned from their shuffling with weapons of brute force, the guns having already been moved to the van in preperation for another attack. Those who went for them returned empty handed, unable to get to the door.

    "Papa!!"

    "Vater."

    Looking away from the crowd of armed humans for a brief moment, gaze lingering on one who seemed to think his silver cross would be enough to fight her off, she looked over at where the voices had come from. The girl was tugging at the front of the priest's robes with growing distress, the boy standing over her shoulder and keeping an eye on the fight. The way his fingers twitched belied his urge to yank his sister away, to take her somewhere safe. Brothers all had the same little tells.

    They were suddenly in motion, attacking before they could be attacked, panther and child moving as one. It was laughable, how easily they fell. She only needed to incapacitate them, and Nightmare would come and take them out. A dagger to the side, a kick to the knee, a chop to the throat, and suddenly the army of humans was a smear of dead and still breathing bodies, ripe for the panther's picking. Some were lucky enough to have met the panther before the girl, getting killed rather than left to bleed - any unfortunate enough to dare have a pulse was torn into by teeth and claw.

    The blood had seeped into the soles of her boots, leaving red footprints as she made her way back toward the small family before the alter. The brother automatically placed himself between her and the rest of them, taking an easy defensive stance. The glint in his blue eyes did something to her, compelling her to do something she'd never thought of doing when getting this far.

    She hesitated.

    ...And Hear Them Pray...

    He ran forward, pulling a stake out from the inside of his jacket, her hesitation all he needed to slip under her guard.

    Nightmare pounced, taking the boy down and dealing with him easily. Her eyes lingering on the boy's glazed over glare before she turned back to the girl, stepping over the body heedless of the blood that pooled around her boots. Leaving more footprints, she moved forward, her gait predatory and slow.

    "Father." The man, for the first time, moved in recognition. The girl scrambled backward in shock, tripping and falling backwards, hands splaying out to catch herself and splashing into a pool of her brother's blood. The stain spread through her white dress, and she shrieked as she realized what it was, trying and failing to get away from it, only finding herself in more as she panicked.

    Candela watched with a strange kind of detachment as the girl ran off, trying the door before running around the room, changing direction every time her eyes landed on a dead body. It was only a matter of time before the panther rose from its feast of the boy, stalking after the innocent.

    Turning from this, the young vampire hybrid reached up and caressed the Priest's jawline, bringing his attention down from the stained glass portrait of the sun through the clouds. She met his eyes as his daughter's screams reached its zenith, compelling him to his knees as they were drenched in silence once more. A single tear fell from his right eye, the only proof that somewhere behind the monster there was a human, a father.

    A weakling.

    Her fangs lengthened, glinting in the candlelight as she leaned forward and sank her teeth into his jugular. The taste was heavenly, hatred, desire, sorrow, obsession, and pure, unadulterated fury. The mixture went straight to her head, causing her to drink deeper, almost drain the man of his blood.

    His heart was pumping weakly, struggling to get the blood into all the parts of him that needed it, but she was already away, licking her lips as she reached into her knapsack and pulled out the bright red tanker. Unscrewing the lid, she poured the amber fluid over the bodies, humming a soft tune as the familiar overpowering scent of kerosene filled the air, the amber and crimson making multicolored swirls as it spread across the wooden floor.

    The thunder she'd nearly forgotten about got louder the more cases she opened, the more kerosene she poured. The wind whipped around the place, whistling and rattling the windows. The supposed warning was only more encouragement.

    She reached into her pocket and pulled out the box of matches, carefully selecting one. A bolt of lightning hit the ground outside, the sound bursting into her eardrums as the bright flash of light seared the image of the stained glass heavens into her eyes, causing her to blink for the briefest of seconds before she recovered.

    Lightning. How amateur.

    Open the Doors...

    It was unfathomable how small the reaction was, the friction turned chemical turned heat as the head of the match ran along the side of the matchbox. Miraculous in itself. Such an amazing, beautiful thing to happen from the smallest of motions. Friction to Fire, easy as she could snap her fingers. It was a reaction she had studied and put into a two perfect prototype, until Hothead had destroyed those.

    Thunder shook the chapel as the small flame slipped from between her fingers.

    Infinite and immeasurable; the transition from an instigation to breaking point, from mistake to intent, from revenge to slaughter, all held together in the handful of seconds between the match and the kerosene. For that moment, that brief smattering of heartbeats suddenly accelerated with anticipation, there was silence.

    Then came flame.

    The blaze was sudden and immediate, skipping along the kerosene like children robbed of childhood, holding hands of orange flame and laughing bursts of yellow fire. It overflowed like hopping chocolate frogs and lapped at her boots like the friendly greeting of the Great Lake, Red tendrils of flame, so much like the giant squid, reached out of the liquid flame, waving before catching and engulfing the pile of bodies just as the squid would.

    She watched all this with a vibrant fascination just short of obsession before the cry of the priest brought her back to herself. Turning toward him, she made her way back over, footprints burning with kerosene just as a certain halfdemons had once. The thought pleased her.

    "Wh-why-"

    "It's his birthday today." She said conversationally as she sank down beside him, crossing her legs underneath herself as the puddle of kerosene slowly made its way to the more flamable parts of the room. The pews just next to them went up next, and though she couldn't feel the heat, she could see it in the sweat pooling on the priest's forehead, the way his eyes flickered toward the flame and his body tried to ease away from it on its own.

    "Wh-who-"

    "His name is not something I would slander on the likes of you." She snarled, Nightmare padding out of the flame in agreement. "Still..." She continued, resting her elbow against her knee and placing her chin in it as she looking off into the distance. "It's not like you'll have much more time to say it, is it?"

    "M-mer-" His eyes widened as the alter went up next, flames growing to reach toward the high, domed ceiling. Nightmare came and laid on his chest, resting her chin on her paws and watching him with wide amber eyes.

    "Shush." Candela chided, though his voice had all but died when the panther had taken residence. "A year ago, your group had an assignment. Take out a famous wizarding landmark. Grimmald Place. I live there."

    "I-It was supposed to be empty-"

    "You think that matters?" She snarled, shocking the man into silence. "My brother is still dead. As is your group. As you will be... soon enough." Nightmare shifted closer, eyes locked on the man's hastening pulse. He didn't have long, whether by the blood loss from the left open bite or the fire quickly closing in.

    "P-Please... M-Mercy...."

    The air was suddenly full of laughter.

    Great rolls of it, from the bottom of her belly, the simple absurdity of those two words hitting her funny bone over and over. "Mercy?" She repeated, pausing for breath as the pews behind her went up too. They were now surrounded on all sides by walls of flame, not that the girl noticed. "You think that now is the time to be begging for mercy? Well... better late than never I suppose..." Nightmare's tail flicked in warning, and the vampire's eyes lingered on the fame embroidered collar around the panther's neck. A Prototype. They should get going.

    "You are fortunate tonight, Father." She murmured in an after thought, rising to her feet. "My brother was a fan of mercy, and it is his special day... Say hello to your god for me. Nightmare?" The panther lunged forward, and the priest moved no more.

    She stood there for a moment, looking up into the mosaic she had only just noticed, eyes tracing the intricate designs and colors. Shame she hadn't been here in time to take a picture of it. She was sure Liksie would love it...

    Nightmare brushed against her leg, then pounced into her arms, shrinking down to kitten form as she reached her master, burrowing into her hold. Karma brought the small kitten to her lips to kiss her soft head before walking into the flame, through it, and out into the rain.

    ...and They All Walk Away

    She stood in the rain for a moment, letting the water streak over her and put out the flames still clinging to her. She looked up into the sky, a smile on her face.

    "You understand that I can't just leave it standing, don't you?"

    Nightmare curled into her arm as she pulled the small device out of her pocket. She eyed it for a moment, before flipping off the safety and pressing the red button, activating the C4 that had been there since three weeks ago.

    Humans really should be more observant.

    The ground shook as the very foundations of the church were blown apart, timed explosions from the base to the bell tower hidden in the steeple. The bell, now heavily dented, crashed to the ground to her right, landing with an impressive sound on the van.

    She didn't flinch.

    Her attention was forward, watching the approaching sirens and reveling in the way the combination of firelight and sirens reflected off the stained glass made patterns across the landscape. It really was quite beautiful...

    Moving now, at an easy pace, Karma made her way back into the alley she had come from, disappearing into the shadows as the first cop car showed up.

    It was a whisper from the darkness, snatched away by the wind, caressed by the rain.

    "Happy Birthday, Jettie."


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    Djinn
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    Re: Brandgefahr | PG13

    Post by Djinn on Wed Aug 08, 2012 8:02 am

    No one noticed the other figure present that night, despite the fact that he was illuminated by both firelight and flashing emergency vehicle lights. Nevertheless, he was there, flames reflecting in his eyes giving the illusion that they were their natural color rather than the brown of the flesh mask in which he was bound.

    He opened his mouth to speak and the rain pouring down with vengeance, as though to drown out both being and words,

    "Fuinseog go luaith,
    Deannaigh a deannaigh,
    Mortals beag,
    In a bhfuil muinín agat?

    Tá do shaol dar críoch sin.
    Ní féidir leat insint?
    Nuair a bhíonn go léir déanta,
    Beidh tú sruthán go léir i Ifreann.

    Gníomhais maith den sórt sin,
    Agus mar sin ach, mar sin cothrom,
    Tá teacht ar fad chun naught
    Do do Dhia nach cúram."

    Djinn raised his chin, a smirk pulling across his features. A flash of lightening caused his eyes to gleam with white-hot light. "Well done, child," the demon intoned.


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