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Lian Storm

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59 Setting the Bar High

About Lian Storm

  • Rank
    Feet Wet


    Billie Piper
  • RACE
  • JOB
    Collector of Information and Finder of lost ....things
  • 'SHIP:
    Presently None
    New York Transplant from Philadelphia
    Height : Five Feet . Weight : Seven stone ( 100 ponds)

    In the shifted Wolf form : Seventy Pounds ( 5 Stone )

    White hair with streaks of random red or black, Large hazel eyes and very defined features. She is usually found choosing comfortable fitted attire, denim or leather and perish the ideal of dresses ever.

    She bears a few scars unseen unless nude, one that is most prominent, it begins at her left shoulder blade and curves down to her right hip. She has no piercings, the only marking that is also on her changed form is a dark sort of tree shape on her right ribs ( right flank).
    Lian can be abrasive, cynical and often blunt in her dealings with most people. She has little time for fools, and often will make it her business to call them out. She has a history before the Event of being a Mercenary of a fashion. She is skilled at combat, stealth and has very little fear.

    She is also kind. There are those creatures who she without question feels protective of. That is not negotiable and will often be the least likely type of creature to need such.

    When she has defined the trust given, or earned, she is loyal to a fault and will never stray from that unless truly betrayed. Betrayal is usually a reason for the shift of her temper (which was legendary) and can end badly for he or she who considered betraying her.

    She has little filters, and there is rarely a predictable behavior with her. Her sense of humor is wild and her sense of her own self is complete.
    A Titanium vial that she wears on a leather thong.
    A charm bracelet with small charms from various places.
    A bank account - it was suggested she do this.
    A pelt. It is her own and required for her shifting magics
    Clothing : comfortable and usually changeable due to work.
    Presently none as of yet.


    * Information on the race as per guidelines *

    Skinwalkers were the witches or shaman of Southwestern tribes before the Nevus. Individuals that tended to shun all society and who were in tune with spirits, particularly animal spirits. After the Nevus event these attuned individuals developed a unique shapeshifter ability, they can alter their shapes at will to assume the characteristics of certain animals. These shaman are the only ones that turned into Skinwalkers during the Nevus event. They usually stem from the Navajo people, but deeply spiritual shaman and witches from other Indigenous Tribal Peoples have also been found to have changed. While many changes caused by the Resonance were spontaneously applied at random, the Skinwalker ability has only transferred to these indigenous heritage with this deep shaman link. There are two other well know skinwalker types — The Selkie and Swan Maidens. (See below). These sub-races of the skinwalker may possess different traits and abilities.

    Skinwalkers need the pelt or skin of the animal in it's ENTIRETY. A 'rabbit's foot' is not going to allow them to take on the form of a rabbit, feathers of a bird are not enough to turn into a raven. They need the whole skin — and there is nothing magical at all about these skins. They are just normal pelts and obtaining them will not give a 'non-skinwalker' the power to transform.

    *Mind touch with animals : wolves/canines
    * Keener senses ( smell, touch, taste, hearing, sight )
    * Nature lore and affinity ( knows the herbs that heal and kill )
    * Tracker expert/ subterfuge expert
    * Spiritual Lore ( as per her own tribe/clan)
    * Marksman
    * Combat/melee and hand to hand- Has been involved in fighting with blades, guns and hands. Training was of the on the job sort as jobs came. She moves fast, is agile and thinks just as swift when involved in close combat.
    * Writing and reading of course
    * Tracking/scout
    * assassin ( past and sometimes present )
    * Healing ( natural and field dress)
    * scary driver
    * Practical thinker
    * Cat like reflexes
    * Intuition
    Was pulled through the veil to Earth during the first resonance in 2010.

    - In a time long ago -
    Magic users were experimenting. Their goal was the harnassing of something that could be bred true, and used in combat during the wars. They worked tirelessly on this goal… and finally it happened. On a dismal night in long ago, the answer was stumbled upon, and the experiment conducted. Two creatures/individuals placed into a breeding force. The female escaped and eventually returned almost dead to her tribe....birthing child that took the rest of her own breath to bring into this world.
    . What was birthed was a wolf unlike any other that had come before her… for Fate made stepped in on paws that night. With the ability to assume two forms… that of a human and wolf. In time the girl child would begin to study her own spiritual paths,, seeking solace with some of the Heathens of the Wild and growing into her own in that arena.

    *side note* During the Victorian age ( poofy hair and poofy men) Those involved in the test were decapitated in their earth beds. *

Profile Fields

  • Primary
    Storm, Lian
  • All My Characters
    Sage Monroe, Alia Safina
  • Typist's Interests
    Writing, Reading everything. Pretty much anything creative. Mild dabbler with art.
  • Typist's Role Play History
    Tabletop - ten years
    Writing - over twenty
  • Role Play Sample
    ]I had to stretch out as the cab wove thru traffic. I trusted the driver because money talks and bullshit walks - and because frankly so far he had managed to duck the dark blue pontiac that had ghosted us for hours. And now all I could think about was sinking into a large claw footed tub surrounded by antiques and listening to some old jazz. Maybe even duck out and do a little shopping?

    I had while listening to some odd rave soundtracks been turning over in my head remembered places. There was Di Napoli's , which while not my type of cuisine- I tend to order in unless I am lucky enough to be close to flora and fauna, but I did enjoy the smells and the sounds when near it. A deep sigh was heard and I straightend up when my driver tossed " 43rd up ahead Miss" over his shoulder. Thank goddess, between flying and now sitting in this damned automobile I was stiffer then a ...well stiff. I lost my wit at these times and just wanted to stop being in motion.

    Chilly as it was I felt sticky from all the travel. While we had taken a scenic route, I had called to reserve whatever was open and *fortune* had it that a minisuite was indeed open. That meant privacy, room service and I would be up near the top of the quaint boutique hotel and not down amid the traffic and populace. Up where the balcony let you see forever....The hotel had become a godsend once I realized why it was called that.

    I like old movies....*...you know how to whistle doncha...you just put your lips together and blow *... By the time the cabbie jostled up to the corner I had grabbed my duffel and with a toss of another c- note and a whistle , I was out the door and striding swiftly to the foyer.

    Trust me, forget the Ritz, screw the best of the best, always find something quaint. When you walk into this place it just oozes another time , Wood work, real and finished adorn the walls, the stair case makes me want to just toss it and slide the bannister like a half punch drunk pup, and the service is top of the line. They spotted me and already a fellow wanted to take my bag and escorted me to the desk to check in. [ you know it would have been a wonderful thing to have the black mastercard when I was scraping to pay for arrows? ] And they are polite and warm even while you stand there for the usual small time to check in, they even brought me coffee. Not that shit they had in the airport but COFFEE.

    A addiction I think I got when I was traveling with Rod over in the European areas, they literally swim in the stuff. But it does warm you up and make you feel better. Though once I shift, I have a stomach ache for a few. I blame my biology for that. But all in all , no cars roared up, no odd strangers appeared and other then a very frou frou lady with far too many boas and a trench coat reeking of some rather pesky perfume that I wager cost more then my room for a drop, I was simply a world traveler seeking a bit of quintessential peace in a rather bohemian place. And...I had money. See that makes a difference. Means you get the treatment or the door.

    The young man followed me to the elevator and within moments I was standing in front of the door and sliding the key card in to enter. I tipped him and once the door shut I just twirled like a child thing as I tossed off my bomber and wandered this mini suite.

    I love these! You get a sitting room with a wonderful view, a huge bed and the bathroom was enormous! And the colors were so fundamentally noir that you never wish to leave, and the request I had made while enroute had indeed been heard. There was live plants everywhere...at least I could have a piece of gaia inside.

    While I settled in and wandered to run a bath , I opened the small note book and scanned my own writings. So Frostwire? Well what else do you name somethng covenish and owned by a cold hearted bastard?

    The owner I knew, well had known. And yes he is cold hearted , he is one of those nocturnal creatures. A really old fang. Gods had it been so long?

    The steam made the notebook go wimpy, an elemental way of saying - get in the tub and stop reading! Which was exactly what I did, I had been standing there with nothing on but a smile and now just stepped into this huge tub to sink in and just for brief moments be female.

    And when room service arrived that was where I was, one leg outstretched while bubbles slid like a lovers caress from the flesh, and the other was bent and half submerged..

    Without much though I rose and grabbed a towel to allow them entrance.. Did I mention they dont mind people ordering really rare steaks?

    So as the door opened this bright eyed fellow pushed the cart that was bringing me my nightly needfuls, and as much as I am sure the fellow sought not to stare..I do have a habit of not realizing that when you are wrapped in a towel and all legs that males of every species have to look. Somewhere there is a huge rule book on human etiquette. Its in there I just freakin know it.

    And that is about the time I blush. Because as long as I have been aware of myself, I forget at times that I am to their eyes a female and that I am different. The flesh that covers me is toned and looks nice and for the most part save of course my spine and ribs, unmarred. I have even really looked at myself in the mirror...but I judge as wolf not woman and thus I just sort of look like this elfish girl with really big eyes and alot of hair. This is why I know I would suck as a human, I see things differently. But for whatever confounded damned reason, I blush. No idea why really save that whoever triggers it- they blush.

    So there we were, and finally I turned and went to reach for the small money clip tossed on top of my jacket. I had to stretch and the breath I heard suddenly reminded me......towels are like hospital gowns...see what I am saying? Suffice to say the fellow probably felt he got the best tip of the night and then some!

    He was polite and kept asking if there was anything else I needed, which meant it took me almost walking him dripping and wet out the door before I leaned against it and laughed, For all the things I see and do , life always reminds me to laugh. That was a lesson I learned from a horse. Laughter defeats all things. And life , repeatedly has gifted me the humor to survive anything.

    Well save one....I am pretty sure the bubbles in my water have faded ...which meant more water , more of that bubble stuff and now meat. The night could not get better really. I had landed safe, and was in one of my favorite haunts, in a city that according to every song *never sleeps*
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  1. Lian Storm

    Yoga Butts

    Lian gave an almost absent shrug to the information about a dead hooker. Neither truly care either way whether he had or had not. When she had to be social awkward as it was she could be. When they met she had been social. Lian spent most of her time with people of few words and less drama usually so the blunt askance was appreciated. A small hand deftly caught the bottle and she studied him a moment as she continued to listen to this proposition. Not having to deal with idiots other than to end them did not bother her much. It was after all part and parcel of how she lived. Someone always had to remove the trash, she got paid and the trash disappeared. That was usually how it always went. Very few times save perhaps twice had the removal had to be public and clean. Those had been anomalies and though worth it just for the sheer challenge, they were not the norm. “Well, I am not a huge decorator, but the rest is pretty doable. Unless you feel the unusual urge to explain any of the aforementioned stuff, I really don’t need to know.” The wolf was used to working on little information. The fact was, in her line of work the less you know the less to clean up should something go awry. Thankfully that also was a rarity. That probably came from only working with those she got a good sense about. Boone may have appeared a stiff suit but she had noticed the movements and caught what some poor human would have missed. That told her more than all the words and ties and coffee ever would. “Color me interested. “
  2. Working on character for Ireland.....:)

  3.  My cast posting today!


  4. Lian Storm

    Yoga Butts

    Lian reached to tug the wayward tendrils into a leather wrap, in her line of work hair no matter the length could be a liability sometimes. She had memorized the location and destroyed the card because she was never one to leave anything in her wake. The personable creature that most saw was merely a shard of the truth, she was more often than not less than social. However one must do what one must do to survive. Though the yoga struggle had been wholly amusing. Things that impressed her – amusement, honesty and well lets face it the sheer absurdity of yoga pants in the world gone mad. … She had arrived earlier and sat within shadows against the warehouse external wall cross legged upon a dumpster. Large haze eyes had spotted the little sporty car with its occupant and merely waited for the proof of solitary arrival, Attired in dark wear, a old leather jacket her buffer against the sea’s icy breath, and at ease there amid the dirgish world of dark, she finally decided to slip off and make her way towards the automobile. The faint smell of hops told her the chosen libations and she grinned. Guys. Predictable. Also admirable that beer remained itself. Lian lifted a hand to offer a simple signal to identify her own approach, courtesy really. Well he was prompt. She however had arrived in her usual fashion, checking out the area. When you have ducked enough things aimed at you-you learn the wisdom of knowing the lay of the land. A svelte shadow of smaller stature paused distinctly ten feet from Boone. Well she had given her word to appear. She never broke her word, not even when betrayed. A persons word was at the end of the days all they had as a mark of their character. You don’t get far in this business If you are a questionable make. Lian knew that anyone worth their salt never accepts face value- she herself was a fairly good judge of people and she pegged Boone as one of those. Her own racial traits were doggedly handy in small ways. Smells, sounds even the very movement of air gave small indications to her sensory receptors much keener then if she had been just a human. Human- that was such a multi layered word now that everything had changed. She recalled when her kind had hidden in shadows, how their existence was but a rumor. Now the world had far worse out there. Far more obvious and far more deadly at times. Husky tones broke the weighty air between them. “Evening Boone”
  5. Lian Storm


    The world as you know it...is no longer known. Hey still healing it's the best I had
  6. Lian Storm

    BLOOD MOON - Empire State Building

    The ruffled head bobbed an approval of the bar’s demise. They were not tasty but in her line of work they helped. She was not human, not a single bit, and she needed protein. It was really that simple. The smell of magic was very heavy about Sarge but she was cool with that, after all she had a few tricks herself. The sounds above echoed shortly after the smell hit her acute senses and she followed his own gaze up as she lifted her hand to flash fingers to imply many. Okay a shit ton really. In her head she counted the ammunition again she had as well as canted to the muse voice that came from below. Before she could offer the fact it was probably the mouse lady, Sarge caught her attention and to his words she gave it, though her own ears were counting steps. The lot would catch a few trips in the glue and buy precious moments but as he made sure to impress the need to get to the elevator and the rest she merely nodded and turned to measure the distance to its doors. That familiar spark traveled up her spine and an almost gamin grin of pure joy lit those features. Yea…junkie… She followed him to the elevator walking backwards slightly and watching behind with that pistol held in a careful manner. Every shot had to count. Nothing yet burst upon them so she glanced to him before lunging into the elevator “See you on the other side partner” she slid into the box as the doors slammed and the thing rocketed downwards. The clip clattered near her and she scooped it up and prepared to unlight the way. If he wanted dark she could and would do it. Her nightvision was expert. Well….wolf…night vision …good stuff. She never had to wear one of those damned miner lights or carry a flash light much. Less to tote less to lose or have some sort of clue grafted from. Smart waif is good waif. As she steadied her stance and took out each light, she also listened to the above noise, even from her descent she could pick out the smell of blood. At least it reeked of Lycanthrope and not humanistic. That meant so far no Sarge steak for the beasties. The darkness fell hard and she braced as the floor of the elevator slammed down and shook her through her boots into her very bones. JEESHSUS…She released a long breath and then holstered her own weapon to dig out a blade small and sharp to help achieve pressure to pry the doors apart. While she worked she felt the tingle of warning again and paused as her fingers had pushed the doors enough to slide through. Some thing large struck the top of the box and once more shook it like a small earthquake. Damm…Lian released the doors and lifting one foot drug up on the wooden accent rail along the half way point in the wall of the battered box. Carefully pulling her other foot up she angled herself so she could use her pouch strap on one of the busted fire extinguisher holders as a brace for her hips, and reached to twist on the little key holder latch. If a Lycanthrope fell in, she was gonna blow its damned head off, if it was something else..well scent would really decide if she shot or not. Which lead to her leaned back and sniffing, sniffting enough to smell the mud and blood of her new ‘friend’. Lian held the edge of the security door or emergency exit thinger while her other hand dug for the lock pick. It took a few seconds once she worked it and the thing fell open to reveal the back of what had to be a body. Yea it was alive. Well sorta. Her hushed tones whispered “Sarge…get in here “ and she dropped the pick and reached for her weapon. She had a small opening between his shoulder ( it looked like his shoulder anyway) and the opening. Obviously, if he fell, the rest might think about stomping down here. Fudge kittens! Well hell, shooting ducks in a pond backward right? Lian slid her wrist with a twist past him and held that pistol steady once more trying to get his attention, “Get in here, I think the monsters like going down” Hazel eyes swept back up and she hoped he was conscious enough to drop down, then they could get out of this box and blow it. Hopefully with a batch of those nasty things inside. Hopefully without blowing them up. Did she mention explosives…yea she was not just stealing some information tonite ( well before the Lycanthropic meat heads burst in ) she had been leaving a message for the director. Listen sometimes small booms with little messes make a real important impression. She was not sure the why of the thing- just it paid well and frankly she lived for challenges. But right now that pay out really did not mean much because even if she got it, she would have to probably split it with some Lycanthrope who ate the guy….
  7. Working till Monday bleh

  8. Lian Storm

    BLOOD MOON - Empire State Building

    Hazel eyes wandered up and watched her new ‘friend’ stride down. Yup, military type, smelled about as good as she did. Well, killing things tended to have that splatter, and contrary to the telly shows it stunk when it was Lycanthrope innards or brain bits. Obviously, she moved to let him make the last leg- or leap down to avoid her slight amusement ( diversion) because again- wits. Pretty big fella and obviously already seen some action top ground. Lian was not surprised or shocked- let's face it you do what she does and he actually looks normal. This, of course, means she probably had a pretty frigged up way of life. But it was never boring. “Think I had a shaman or something sent a little message out before you tore up the floor up there. That is why I was heading down to check for who ever was still human” yea you can get the sickness, disease, infection, whatever they called it when those nasties bit ya. Of course, if they eat you that whole infection thing won't matter unless some rat or something eats your infected carcass. All the ingredients of a good horror movie right there. When he got down so as to have her look up, she struck out her own hand and took his without a concern for the mess. This was her job so it was par for the course, she just did not get the cool uniforms and shit. “ Lian. Good to meet ya Sarge. Welcome to hell” What an understatement. Her grip was firm, for such a wee thing she was always judging handshakes and eyes. Body language was something akin to sure-fire signals. No matter what the mouth said, that language unheard told you volumes. It could keep you from trusting the wrong person or getting shot in the back. When she released his own larger hand, she reached into the small pack at her hip and dug about bringing out the promised protein bar. “Okay so it is not a taco, but better than hoping for something safer to toss in your stomach. The door is down here, sorry for the bodies…they kinda pissed me off” Yea she had no patience for the meat head bouncers. It was obvious they had wanted to scratch that door down, why was a toss. Either they wanted to eat the poor people or there was something more hiding in the base level that no one but the dogs knew about. “Only saw those two when I got down here, most of ‘em where crawling through windows and the elevator shaft when I managed to duck down here. They had busted into one of the offices in a small group. They were hunting”
  9. Lian Storm

    BLOOD MOON - Empire State Building

    Lian rolled her shoulder and cocked that head listening to the words coming down from the very masculine fellow. Well hell, either militia or police? Either was possible and since she highly doubted anyone had suddenly realized there was a few missing bits of important information -ya know since everything just went straight into the doggie shitter-she was not really worried about getting arrested. Not that she had ever…okay maybe once…or twice. “Well I think there is a safe spot behind me, I spotted a big door…cant promise tacos and who the hell does soft shells? Anyway I probably have something in my pack” to be honest, she was sure she had a few protein bars and twizzlers..( dun judge). She was fair, if it was not one of those damned Lycanthropic meat heads, she was all about sharing is caring. Whichever Mister personality was, he probably was armed. “No worries, I sure as hell aint wasting ammo” Wisdom-use it wisely or lose it stupidly. She glanced back at the brain splatter and pile there by the door. Well, they would not be eating anyone anymore at least. Thing is, it seriously was weird to see two let alone a herd of those beasts working in unison. It was unheard of and just damned impossible. To work like a group or cadre of crunchies, they had to use intellect. Lycanthropes don’t get that, they have a brain, its just mushy and full of grim thoughts. Equal opportunity digestive things. Definitely not logic or strategy. The weird feeling that kept running along her spine told her magic of some sort was stirring, not the usual kind that she got used to after the sky had its day, but something that felt much thicker. Couple that weirdness with the red moon and it can only spell a connection of gigantic proportions- to whit-Lycanthropes with brains eating the city. Since it got less chatty, she turned her grip about on the pistol and checked it again. The glue was still shiny, probably gonna have to warn Mister Taco that it might be best to skip two steps, nothing spells friendship like gluing some poor guy to the stairs. It had been merely amusing diversion had it been needed. Fact is she was not going to just waste her own stash on random bad tempered dogs if she could use it in a more effective way. Destruction only works if it is encompassing. Well and it was a matter of pride that she hit what she aimed at. She heard another step above sort of and chuckled. “Well I took two down but from where I was, it looked like a damned army. If it’s a convention then they came to the wrong place for the hookers…oh and watch the second and third steps, they are glue” Listen sometimes a girl has to think with what she has on hand. Wits have kept her alive, and wits were gonna continue to be her best back up. People came and went but your mind was always there, ready to give you the most outrageous ideas and also cheering you on when you commit them. She really doubted she looked deadly to whomever was gonna come down, ripped jeans, briused up a bit and looking like the cat drug her about. But of course this was how she usually looked when she was deep into work. She just hoped that whoever had sent the day glo mouse was still alive, she was pretty much banking on some survivors down there holed up in what had to be a safer place than anywhere else in this building. Security would have been overrun pretty fast, lets face it who prepares for such an attack , let alone even expects it. Anyone who has to deal with moon leds, you know that full moons are a sucky time to do business, it can wait till the phase is over and they are human sort of again. But this magnitude of mangy mutts in the city and on a rampage but with a purpose-because of their actions and movements with such focus-was something that both should be feared by most and also made her curious as hell to know what exactly caused it because anything that powerful was something to get a look at. ( okay yea, pillage the village sort of thought form) Everything after all has a purpose.
  10. Two days off yay

  11. Lian Storm

    BLOOD MOON - Empire State Building

    There is went. That shiver along her senses that paused her step and had the slender female turn slightly to lift her head and scent the air, parting lips to let the air redolent of mangy reeking refuse, burnt fur, blood and cordite bring a thoughtful expression-which was followed by a quirk of brow as she heard the feet ( now elephants in the Empy building overrun with smelly oversized eating machines!) and gun fire. There beyond the stairwell door the smells and sounds swelled. There were she had left the two fire extinguisher yetis, there where tacs and glue had bought her ass time. But then again mangy eating witless monsters did not fire guns. See that took thought. That was what made werewolvies and their other werethingers different from most of us supernatural types. When they changed into heaving drooling masses, they lost the ability to reason. They had little to no intellect, they had no means to an end thought patterns. They knew eat-shit-feed-kill-maim-sleep-shit-shed-kill. You kinda get the gory picture? This made them both dangerous and stupid. The problem with most face offs- is panic sets in, fear. They are big and usually not the type to heed the word *stop*. The thing is, for all that their brains are useless, they are a weak spot. Making a head or heart shot with silver or at least a good combustible bullet was the best way to stop the progress of their pattern. Lian knew this, she also knew as she stood there, something, something that pulsed with madness coupled with that moon that was not really like your run of the mill moon out there had created a recipe for true shit cake. It was driving them sort of to run together. Were’s were not pack animals in spite of their animal of change. Wolves for instance ( she was a shifter and part of her was very canine ) were pack animals in their own way. For Lian this manifested in usually adopting people and things that she deemed as ‘pack’, this of course made up of friends and connections of the years, this was what substituted for pack in her world. Were’s however saw each other as a meal, as something to subjugate. This is where pack becomes moot. Pack is just another word for meal. Lian understood this, just as she grasped that with them moving in a flow towards the building earlier was a sure sign of something wrong and twisted. They just don’t hang out together. The fact they were moving as a herd or pack mentality was alarming because that amplified the dangers. ( this goes back to the fear principal. Lian failed to get that when she was born. Maybe next Christmas?) Her hand adjusted its grip on her pistol and she rolled that shoulder slightly. If anything was getting chased in this direction, glue on the steps notwhithstanding for a diversion, she was going to have to take those shots – which was gonna piss her off-she was trying to manage her bullet count. Breath left her body and a stillness poured over her momentarily as the wolf focused to the hunt. Or in Lian’s case, the shot or shots she would have to take with expert aim. Missing was not an option. Then as she lifted those hazel eyes to the entryway a churlish voice thick with masculine flavor belted out some sort of feckin remark about killing and stepping, and the head shook slightly. “Step up my ass! Don’t you dare shoot me dammit, I am not one of those damned freaks” Right and she was not eating anyone. It’s a well known fact in the world of wolves, humans tasted like ass plain and simple. Well that and she was not some monster trying to chew off flesh. “Friend or foe ?” Her luck it was gonna be some pencil pusher security guard who suddenly got a Dirty Harry complex….. Did she feel lucky? Every damned second of her life.
  12. Working next three days - ugh

  13. Lian Storm

    Gyre and gimble

    Now there it was the beast beneath the suit. Lian did not look from his own eyes for that dollop of humor that swirled was the only surface. Lian was a beast, small and usually underestimated, but a beast nonetheless. What others shirked she thrived upon and courted as surely as any lover. Boone spoke about his own predilection for endings and a very female smile tugged those lips before an inclination of that head came. Beast understands the beast. Killers always know one another. She was well aware most would never consider her in that category because it was not rage that brought the violence, it was a strange love of the game, the adrenaline, the challenge. Nothing more. The longest relationship that the shifter owned too even in business was Ollie. Boone was a bit like him in the looks department. Ollie had been dispatched to kill her, and she had been dispatched to kill him. They had alternately attempted to end one another as well as screw each other to death. It had been interesting till Ollie took a bullet that had her name on it from a whacked out agent with far too much alcohol in his head. Lian had skinned him…alive. [storm] Boone, I highly doubt you need yoga pants to separate anything[/storm] a hint of humor as she watched him withdraw the card. She had considered getting cards but she tossed phones constantly so that might have been a bad idea. And anyway yoga pants were just another body language translation for my baby needs a new step daddy. Lian reached for the card and arched a brow. Midnight, the witching hour, that time when the division of the night truly had stark differences. What happened before was tepid compared to what occurred later. [storm] Midnight is one of my favorite times Boone, I will most assuredly meet you when the clock strikes twelve[/storm] The idea of anything mysterious and possibly a little dark had her feeling that tingle along her spine that was damn near foreplay for the petite creature. Definitely far better than growling in the park.


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