Swolligator
Butcher of the Sands
- 1,955
- Posts
- 14
- Years
- Age 32
- Syndicate HQ
- Seen Jan 30, 2017
Dylan O'Connell aka Derek Hoechlin
"What the 'ell is goin on?"
Manhattan, New York, United States of America
June 25th, 2013
Dylan looked up from his sniffing in time to see two men walking swiftly towards then, breathing in, he could smell the fragrant oaky odour they exuded, setting them apart from the pollenated air around them. They were both Fey, making the hair on the back of Dylan's neck stand on edge. Baring his fangs he let out a low growl, knowing full well this had been a trap set up by the Fey to capture them both; and he would not go down without a fight. It wasn't until he heard one whisper to the other "He's a werewolf." that he realised it might not be a trap after all.
"Welas sent us, you're supposed to follow us." The smaller one spoke in a rather effeminate tone, piquing Dylan's interest. He knew that Fey came in many shapes and sizes, but a Fey like this with that kind of voice, Dylan was sure he should have been born female. Still, he stayed rigid, muscles contorted and ready to jump if either of them did anything. But the weird thing was, they didn't seem like they were here to capture them, rather he was supposed to follow them.
"Ignore him, and any hesitation you might have about following us. I'm Demetrius and The Queen would have our heads if we did anything bad to ya." The taller one added in, at this though, Grigori let out a sigh, placing a hand on Dylan's shoulder.
"Down, boy," he spoke gruffly, "He's an emissary from the Downworlder population here in New York, he's here to guide us," Grigori talked as if he had met the man before, but in reality, he only guessed from the title the man gave that that's who they were, "…apparently," He added cautiously.
"But… but… I told you we were going to be kidnapped," Dylan whined, his eyes growing larger into a similar puppy-dog fashion following his brief and one sided conversation with the one who introduced himself as 'Octavos'. The kid talked too much, and smelt horrendously of Fey, but Dylan thought the boy to be nice, a bit too nice for his liking, but nice none-the-less. "They're totally gonna kill us, Grigori!"
Rolling his eyes, Grigori grabbed the whining boy by his elbow, pulling him backwards through the reflection of the sunlight like it was something he did every day, and the two soon went from the brightly lit day of central park to what resembled someone's play dungeon. The stark contrast hurt Dylan's eyes for a bit as they struggled to readjust, but he could soon see a collection of other's around his age closer to him with four prominent members sitting up on seats like some sort of royalty.
"What the fook is goin on 'ere?" He said rather loudly following the rather aggressive conversation the four prominent members had amongst themselves, presumably about himself and the others that looked just as surprised to be here as him. "Hold up, what da hell is goin on? How the hell are we suppose to summon a demon?" He said rather loudly.
Girgori tried elbowing Dylan in the ribs to shut the boy up, but it didn't work. "I mean, I only flew in the otha day an' already I'm being kidnapped by fookin Fey, and who the hell are you guys? Sittin up there in ya seats, don' I get one?" Dylan was getting more lost widly by the second, overwhelmed even, he knew little about how the Downworlders were run in Ireland, much less the democracy here in New York, and Grigori wasn't surprised the pup hadn't been killed already.
"Dylan, heel!" Grigori growled, grabbing the back of the boys' shirt to restrain him from walking forward and getting his throat ripped out by the Prudent One.
"What the 'ell is goin on?!"
Manhattan, New York, United States of America
June 25th, 2013
Dylan looked up from his sniffing in time to see two men walking swiftly towards then, breathing in, he could smell the fragrant oaky odour they exuded, setting them apart from the pollenated air around them. They were both Fey, making the hair on the back of Dylan's neck stand on edge. Baring his fangs he let out a low growl, knowing full well this had been a trap set up by the Fey to capture them both; and he would not go down without a fight. It wasn't until he heard one whisper to the other "He's a werewolf." that he realised it might not be a trap after all.
"Welas sent us, you're supposed to follow us." The smaller one spoke in a rather effeminate tone, piquing Dylan's interest. He knew that Fey came in many shapes and sizes, but a Fey like this with that kind of voice, Dylan was sure he should have been born female. Still, he stayed rigid, muscles contorted and ready to jump if either of them did anything. But the weird thing was, they didn't seem like they were here to capture them, rather he was supposed to follow them.
"Ignore him, and any hesitation you might have about following us. I'm Demetrius and The Queen would have our heads if we did anything bad to ya." The taller one added in, at this though, Grigori let out a sigh, placing a hand on Dylan's shoulder.
"Down, boy," he spoke gruffly, "He's an emissary from the Downworlder population here in New York, he's here to guide us," Grigori talked as if he had met the man before, but in reality, he only guessed from the title the man gave that that's who they were, "…apparently," He added cautiously.
"But… but… I told you we were going to be kidnapped," Dylan whined, his eyes growing larger into a similar puppy-dog fashion following his brief and one sided conversation with the one who introduced himself as 'Octavos'. The kid talked too much, and smelt horrendously of Fey, but Dylan thought the boy to be nice, a bit too nice for his liking, but nice none-the-less. "They're totally gonna kill us, Grigori!"
Rolling his eyes, Grigori grabbed the whining boy by his elbow, pulling him backwards through the reflection of the sunlight like it was something he did every day, and the two soon went from the brightly lit day of central park to what resembled someone's play dungeon. The stark contrast hurt Dylan's eyes for a bit as they struggled to readjust, but he could soon see a collection of other's around his age closer to him with four prominent members sitting up on seats like some sort of royalty.
"What the fook is goin on 'ere?" He said rather loudly following the rather aggressive conversation the four prominent members had amongst themselves, presumably about himself and the others that looked just as surprised to be here as him. "Hold up, what da hell is goin on? How the hell are we suppose to summon a demon?" He said rather loudly.
Girgori tried elbowing Dylan in the ribs to shut the boy up, but it didn't work. "I mean, I only flew in the otha day an' already I'm being kidnapped by fookin Fey, and who the hell are you guys? Sittin up there in ya seats, don' I get one?" Dylan was getting more lost widly by the second, overwhelmed even, he knew little about how the Downworlders were run in Ireland, much less the democracy here in New York, and Grigori wasn't surprised the pup hadn't been killed already.
"Dylan, heel!" Grigori growled, grabbing the back of the boys' shirt to restrain him from walking forward and getting his throat ripped out by the Prudent One.
"What the 'ell is goin on?!"