Born to Die [PeiPei]

[Django Santana]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 391px; height: 448px; background-image:url(http://i51.tinypic.com/ndsxoo.png)] This place reeked of the diseased. Not just the hospital. The entire dome stank of rotting, decaying humanity. It was disgusting; he had never felt so isolated in his life. Even when he was laying in the gutters in Chicago, at least there were the other homeless for him to pity. He was so much more than this place deemed him. If only they could see that he may have been infected with the Shifting Disease, but he would over come it. He would be the Cure that he and Dr. Lancaster had tried for years to discover. But for now he was forced to suffer alongside these beasts. The ones who had succumbed to the disease and allowed it to ravage their brain, turning them into savage beasts with depravity as their closest companion. Django stopped just short of the hospital doors and stooped down to pick up a shard long shard of glass that had come from the long since shattered windows. He wrapped his fingers around the shard, casting his eyes to the top floor. There were rumors that there were Viruses making the hospital their home. He had to admit, for seemingly mindless killing machines they sure had a taste for irony. But he wasn't here to ponder their reasoning. He was here to catch himself a pretty little Virus. The familiar itch began to rise, and the dull ache in his muscles became a series of violent spasms. He milled about in front of the doors for a few moments longer--trying to focus on anything but the pain--before wandering inside, the dank odor of rotting wood rolling upon in hot, humid waves. It was dark, and quiet. Almost peaceful. Well, it would've been if not for the subtle stench of death. He didn't notice at first, but after a while the all too familiar reek of decomposing flesh was cloying his nostrils. But he pressed on, and the smell got stronger. He backtracked and skirted his original path, to keep away from the smell of death. He wanted to be detected as alive as possible. It was an easy enough task to navigate through the dimly lit hallways as he'd been in and out of the hospital for months, learning the ins and outs. Finally content that he'd learned the hallways enough that he wouldn't get trapped as easily and die in about five minutes, he'd come for the ultimate challenge. Django stopped in a crossroads of sorts, where two hallways met. He thought it a fitting place. He took the shard of glass and dug it into the skin on his upturned palm, dragging it slowly across. He watched as his blood welled up and he kept cutting, tearing, until a steady stream of blood dripped from his palm. Django let out a shuddering breath, and with it just a whisper of a smile, the faintest trace. Come and get me. ooc --et voila!

[Pompeii Lenore]

She couldn’t decide if this was a trick. Not because it seemed unlikely that another shifter had wandered in where it shouldn’t; Pompeii’s sense of probability was hardly objective. No, the only problem here was that she couldn’t be sure that hint of shifter scent was real. Recently, it seemed, her nose and ears had learned how to do that lie thing for themselves. Served her right, borrowing tactics from shifters.

So she sat without so much as a blink, every part of her straining for a better sign. Just as it occurred to her that breathing wouldn’t be too terribly distracting, she caught it. A scent that was burned in her mind. A scent that had always accompanied her triumphs. Somewhere in this building, a shifter was leaking strength. Dying? No. The smell wasn’t that strong, and apparently the abominations knew to stop the liquid from going outside them. There was still opportunity for Pompeii to be what ended him.

She sprang into the hall in human form. Not the best for attacking, but her dratted claws would clack on the hard floor. This way left only the swish of her clothes.

The sharp smell made it easy to track him down, but she wasn’t satisfied with that. If she could smell it, so could the others. Not that she knew if they were even close; she’d gotten so good at avoiding them that she hadn’t seen a fellow virus in a couple of days. For all she knew, there weren’t any on this floor currently. She tended to believe they were all already tearing into her prize. Hers.

The thought grew more nagging the closer she got. There wasn’t a trace of them. She couldn’t hear them, nor smell them. It was too perfect, and she had no other thought than to get to the shifter before the perfection shattered. So when she stumbled upon it, alone and untouched, it seemed some great stroke of luck.

It was standing. Just standing, with one hand glistening red and the other doing nothing to fix that. She froze, watching and trying to make sense of this. Was it stupid? Had it realized how de-spic-a-ble it was? She’d always thought that was the case, but with the couple of shifters she’d managed to snag, they’d always been deluded into thinking they should live.

Subduing him quickly was no longer priority. Silent but not secretive, she slipped from the shadows and circled around carefully to get a better look. “You let that out, you stop running,” she said flatly. “You go to sleep and can’t wake up.”

[Django Santana]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 391px; height: 448px; background-image:url(http://i51.tinypic.com/ndsxoo.png)] It only took a few minutes for something to come shuffling out of the shadows. It was a decrepit looking thing, covered in jagged stripes, its large round eyes boring out from its skull. He watched it with a steady gaze, though his pulse was already spiking and he could feel the spark. It was a feeling that made his skin prickle with heat, goosebumps rippling along his skin. His pupils dilated, chest heaved with anticipation as he watched the thing as it considered him. He clenched his bloody hand into a fist so the blood poured faster from the palm, dribbling on the ground. He wanted to entice it. He knew how they worked--they were predators, most of them. Designed to hunt, track, destroy. But he was prepared, he knew what he was doing, and the thought of the chase drove him wild. When it spoke, it took him slightly by surprise. His brows lifted slightly and he smiled. "So it speaks," he said with a derisive snort."Looks like the Keeps' are getting better at making you things." he said with a cold laugh. "Actually gave one of ya some brains. I should be honored they sent a smart one to kill me." he said with a shake of his head."Maybe this time you'll gimmie a good fight." he said with a feral grin, spinning the shard of glass in his fingers. "Doubt it, though." With that charged forward directly into the Viruses reach, swinging the makeshift blade in a high, down-cutting arch aiming for it's face. ooc --wow he talks a lot for a dead man -shot- u.u

[Pompeii Lenore]

It didn’t care about the red, then. It seemed more interested in Pompeii…which was strange. It wanted to look more than it wanted to run. Why did the ones Pom found never want to run?

Oh, but it got worse. Unknowingly, Django had done all the antagonizing he needed to, just by smiling at her. It wasn’t even that she could read the mockery in the gesture; had it a genuine, happy smile, she still would have been riled. Pompeii had never seen a smile that meant anything good for her.

Except it said she was smart, and smart was a good thing. It was smiling, but saying good things? Her head tilted. Its words weren’t making understandable pictures in her mind, either. ‘Give’ was when you had something in your hands, and then put it in another creature’s hands, right? “She only knows how to do fi…” The issue was confusing enough that her mind was slow to wonder what to do about the abomination suddenly jumping at her.

The virus was silent as glass carved into her flesh; she’d never made much connection between pain and her voice. What good would it do, anyway? She’d tried it, once; she’d been bitten by a shifter, and so had tried letting out the loudest burst of mouth-sound she could, like the shifters did when their skin leaked red or there were crunching sounds inside them. Pompeii hadn’t been able to decipher any way that the noise helped.

Physical reactions were only useful as often as they were not, but somehow they were a part of her instincts when screaming was not. She arched back from the strike, finding herself looking at the ceiling with tensed shoulders. But Pom was quick to correct this baring of her throat, pining the shifter again with wide eyes. There was no anger in them; in fact, there was no anger even in the rumble that came from her throat. Warning maybe, though weak; it was almost aimless, given that even she didn’t know what purpose it was supposed to serve.

At some point, she’d had to accept that she was more dangerous in her four-legged form, as uncomfortable as it was. Some viruses could fight well on two legs; just another thing they told her often to make themselves sound better. Good thing they weren’t here.

In a blink the snarl was emanating from a long, reptilian snout, which then stretched wide as the canine virus leapt at her prey.

[Django Santana]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 391px; height: 448px; background-image:url(http://i51.tinypic.com/ndsxoo.png)] He felt the shard sink into what he assumed could be called flesh, and was quick to withdraw the makeshift blade and swipe it at the thing's neck as it reeled backwards. Their eyes met--the creature's wide, seeing and taking in everything. It was strange, in that split moment of eye contact, a sudden calm overcame him. Looking into the Virus's glassy, animalistic eyes--eyes that sought to understand--he felt a sort of serenity; all the aches and pains fled and his nerves were as cool and still as ice. But the moment was gone as soon as it'd come, and everything came rushing back in a crash of fire and agony. He stumbled backwards as the Virus shifted, long snout snapping at his hand. He pulled away a moment too late, the graze of air he expected to feel as the jaws snapped shut just inches from his fingers didn't come; instead he heard the crunch before he felt the pain, eyes darting down in disbelief to watch the crocodilian jaws close around his fingers. Blood dribbled from between her teeth, his blood. Django swallowed the scream rising in his throat, clenching his jaws so hard it made his jaws ache. He didn’t know what to do, struggling to think through the blinding pain. The creature’s hold only tightened and he started to panic, picturing her going into some twisted version of a death roll and ripping his fingers off. As the thought flashed in his mind he felt himself instinctively pulling back, until panic took hold and he started yanking his hand backward, hammering at the Virus’ head, stabbing at it with his makeshift knife (simultaneously driving the sharp edge further into his palm). With a sickening pop and a squelching sound he felt himself fall backwards, landing hard on his butt. He stared down at his hand, blood pulsing from the two gaping spaces where his fingers should be. Django’s ears started ringing, but it only took a second for him to gather his wits. He couldn’t hear over the roar in his ears but he twisted sideways and onto his feet, hauling ass towards the only exit he knew. ooc --LOL wow I found this half-finished post in a random post-it note on my desktop xD; SURPRISEEE

[Pompeii Lenore]

It wasn’t a good hold, but she judged it better than letting go and trying to grab onto more area. The assault on her face did nothing to change this. Pompeii only bit down harder, shaking her head and throwing her weight around, the urge to hurt him growing stronger…

Suddenly there was no pull. In fact it was almost like something invisible had pushed her, and Pompeii barely managed to land on all four feet. The moment she was stable her eyes were pinned on her prey, but her mind was too occupied to do much follow-up on all that staring. Her teeth were still attached to flesh. It was just that that particular flesh wasn’t attached to the shifter anymore. Pompeii had it. She had human in her mouth again. Not only that, but it was more than just a chunk of flesh from anywhere; this was a clear, undamaged part, those little pinchclaws.

Immediately she knew she didn’t want to spit it out. The whitecoats had never said anything about whether or not she could actually eat the abominations. It sounded wrong; there were plenty of things she wasn’t supposed to eat because they would kill her. No way to fight them, even. They just laid there and let you eat them but once they were inside you, that was the end. Pompeii figured it was because there weren’t any arms or teeth or claws in side of her. If there were she didn’t know how to use them. But she wasn’t supposed to even put those in her mouth. Shifters were dirty and ab-omi-na-tions and should be wiped out, true; but it was also acceptable to bite them. All these thoughts seemed to flash through her brain all at once, making it all the more worse to sort out.

Jaws clamped down like the flesh between them might detonate. But there was only the crunch of bone and a spurt of that strength liquid. Was it better than biting birds, or not quite as good? She didn’t know; it felt exactly the same except in her head. It was satisfying, though, unlike the fact that that she was going to have to chase the abomination instead of exploring this chomping further. Why couldn’t things just sit still while she was inspecting new things?

She bounded after the shifter, thoughts becoming itchy. Walls were good in hunting. Once the shifter ran through the door, it could run many different places, and she wouldn’t know where it would go until it did. It had been frequently mentioned to Pompeii that her mind did not move as face as other creatures, and she knew it was right. If the shifter got outside the hospital, she wouldn’t have a chance to try destroying more of its body.

With that in mind, the virus dog’s attacks grew urgent to the point of lacking much planning at all. Maybe she could bite away his ability to run, maybe she could drag him down with her weight. But it was hard to go for his legs or throat, and other than that she barely knew what did what. And so she leapt and snapped indiscriminately, trying to work despite the blood dripping in her eyes and just get him down.





o.o.c.- Just trying to leave it pretty open for you as to where and how she attacks him next ^^