we're radioactive [dorian]

[MONICA DIONE YOUNGER]

i'm waking up, i feel it in my bones

[/size][/color]

enough to make my systems blow

What did they say about going out at night?

She knew full well that it wasn't safe, that there were definitely other creatures that were prowling around the dark, who were looking to hurt innocent, frail mortal civilians for sport. It didn't matter who or what you are, the fact remained that you were going to be hunted. It seemed that every supernatural creature these days were looking for sport, and the hunters, mortals as they were, were no exception. It did not matter on whether you were innocent or guilty or not, the chances of you getting killed were higher whenever you stepped foot outside when the sun went down. It was the time of night when everything would come out to play, the hour of excitement and danger. Monica was indeed well aware of the fact, but an imperative assignment had forced her to stay after hours at college, and it was late by the time she decided to go home. After reassuring her worried, paranoid family that she would be fine, the tiny werewolf wandered out into the darkness.

She felt the danger before she smelt it, a sudden jolt of fear and caution spiking up from her chest. The sudden scent of unknown people drifted into her nostrils, and her keen ears did not miss the quiet footsteps of company. Call it a gut feeling, but Monica knew immediately that her life was on the line, and it wasn't a very pleasant thought. The wolf froze, mid-way between taking another step, and glanced around warily, fear lightning up her grey eyes. There was a swish in the air as a knife was thrown into the night, and she let out a small yelp when she felt it brush pass her, to disappear into the darkness. Well aware of how close she had been to death, the girl backed away, trembling. Only hunters would throw knives. Only them. No other supernatural creature would do so because their abilities did not require knives to kill, unless they were assassins. She then realized that perhaps these people did not know about her being a Younger, the daughter of a renowned family of hunters. They had to be new...and looking for entertainment. But no one else knew that she was a wolf but her pack...who tipped them off...?

The ripples of laughter from the shadows sent Monica spiraling back into reality, and she wasted no time in sniffing the air, counting. There were five of them, all young and inexperienced, but their numbers would bring her down. She was shit at defending herself, mutt or not. Reluctant to throw away any time, the brunette shifted, feeling her bones crack underneath the transformation, and her muscles rippling as they became stronger. It was as painful as a bitch, and she nearly cried out, but Monica knew that if she was going to survive tonight, she was going to have to endure it. When it was done, Monica broke into a sprint, her jaws clamped tightly around her bag. She heard the hunters following immediately, hooting with excitement.

Open space was what she needed. It gave her a fair advantage over these hunters, and deciding that the nearby park would be the wisest choice, she made her way there, the hunters following closely behind. As it was late, there were no humans wandering around the city at this hour, save for the occasional drunk hobo, so Monica didn't bother trying to be discreet as she ran through the city. When she reached the park, she tossed her bag onto a nearby bench and braced herself, growling. If she was lucky, she'd survive tonight, change into her spare clothing, and go for a nice cup of coffee after this. All this stress demanded caffeine.

As quickly as they came, the hunters were suddenly on her, stabbing and punching, silver knives flashing. She managed to bite down hard on the arm of one, but let go with a bark of pain when she felt the slice of silver along her legs. The pain was sharp and blinding, and the world spun when they buckled. She fell to the ground in a tangled, bleeding heap, helpless and defenseless as the hunters loomed over her, raising their blades.

TAGS dorian WORDS

[/b] - NOTES -[/div]

template created by NAGA for use on NIGHTMARE.[/center]

[DORIAN ISAAC REID]

• All the memories left by the day, And I'm questioning why •

If anyone's ever said 'there's nothing out there' or 'don't be afraid of the dark' they were lying. Dorian knew what laid in the shadows, hell, he's been the thing from the shadows, as much as he hated to admit that. However, he knew that he didn't have any need to fear things of the night, but weaker and younger beings than him did. He was a fighter, and a protector, so a gun shot wound wouldn't really harm him. But Dorian also realised that hunters were becoming more clever all the time, shooting bullets made of wood in places where it hurt. He's heard it and seen it, and only once was he a victim of this, so the supernatural beings were not the only things which needed to be feared. The male ran a hand through his sandy coloured hair, picking up his paperwork for the students which he'd need to see in the next few days. He'd worked late, and it was dark out already, the moon casting shadows all around the area which he was walking past and further. The street lamps giving off an eerie glow, his blue eyes following movement in front of him. Yes, there were people walking down this pavement, but it was still eerie.

Pushing his glasses up a little, he rubbed his hands together as if to warm them, though the cool nights air had little effect on him. The man always took a short cut home, but he never took his car. Two thousand years ago fresh air was all he had, and he was not about to constrict himself with a metal cage everyday. Turning the corner, Dorian wandered slowly towards the park, his thoughts on his brother being home from one of his 'missions'. He and Cyrus were as close as brothers could be, they loved one another irrevocably, and it was crazy how they still do two thousand years later. Of course, they move apart and come back together at different points, having a break never hurt anybody. He kind of felt a little sad for his brother. He had his thievery, yes, but Dorian knew how sad he was, losing the love of his life. Sure, Dorian had lost two of his, a few hundred years in between, but he knew that it was time to let them go, which was why he was less sad for himself.

The vampire was so deep in thought that at first he failed to notice the sounds coming from the park. He was far enough away to be shielded from view of whoever was there, and his forehead creased. Dorian felt a small bout of anger start to build in the pit of his stomach, and he knew that it would fester. The thing was, Dorian had always had a soft spot for those who are weaker. People who are attacked for no other reason than biased opinions and the deprivation of rights, human or not. It had always been a kind of a job to be a protector, but the sight before him made him feel sick. Five against one. He moved soundlessly towards the commotion, his nose telling him that five were human and one was clearly some kind of form shifter, he wasn't sure if it was of the full moon kind. Moving swiftly, Dorian's arm shot out in front of the man who was holding the knife to stab the creature on the floor. He could smell blood, but his self control was good enough to ignore it. His hand moved to push the man's arm back and break it along the joint before anybody could pull a weapon on him.

At the sound of the man's scream, the second hunter tried to sneak up behind him, and Dorian moves his elbow to hit him square in the face, hard enough to knock him over. Honestly, this kind of thing thrilled Dorian. He was a fighter, always had been. His brother not so much, but Dorian had always loved the feeling of it, the adrenaline, thought he knew that he had nothing to fear from these douche bags. Biting his lip a bit, he growled as a knife was thrust into his back, the pain there but but not something that would kill him, and he knew the blood would blend in with his checked shirt. A moment later, he had his fangs extended to scare the humans, because Dorian did not like to kill unless he had to. Which might be an idea, since those jackasses would just go around hunting someone else. He moved quickly, too quickly for them to catch on before he's knocked all of them out. One by one, skulls hitting the ground, and the satisfying thumps made him feel like he didn't care about any concussions they may get.

His next worry, however, was the wolf who was now back in the form of a girl. He would be able to sense if any of those goons woke up, so he moved to pick the girl up by her armpits, and moved her to sit onto the bench. He took her face into his hands, his expression worried as he looked her over, cuts and bruises starting to become more and more visible on her pale skin. "Hey ... are you alright?" Stupid question, but he meant apart from the obvious. Maybe there was some emergency bleeding that he couldn't know about. "You're bleeding." He murmured, casting his eyes down to her leg and kneeling before her, quickly casting his eyes to the hunters. One was stirring, but not about to get up. They'd be okay. The wound in his own back was already healing as the knife was not left in his skin, and he looked at the wound. "This ... it looks bad ... worse than I've seen ... are you allergic to metal?" This kind of ruled out the shifter possibility, and moved towards the werewolf. Through his worry, Dorian had not noticed how striking the girl was, for now he wanted her to stop bleeding.

• As you look to the sky, That it's cloudless up above our heads •

[/style][style=font-family:arial narrow;font-size:8px;text-align:center;letter-spacing:3px;text-transform:uppercase;]tagged momo/naga | words 1019 | outfit[plus jacket] |notes excited <33

template made by cupcakesss of Caution 2.0

[/style]

[MONICA DIONE YOUNGER]

i'm waking up, i feel it in my bones

[/size][/color]

enough to make my systems blow

To only say that she was terrified was a bit of an understatement.

Her initial bravery and bravado of thoughts had vanished the moment she saw those knives. It was then she knew that she was going to die a violent, cruel, bloody death at the hands of these hunters. She gazed up into their eyes, horror and terror alight in her grey orbs. She wasn't going to see her family or her pack member again. Momo wondered how they would kill her. Would they slit her throat? Would they all stab into her at once with those lethal silver blades? Haunted thoughts wormed their way into the wolf's mind, anticipating a variety of ways they would murder her. It did not matter whether or not she was innocent and clearly meant no harm. Why, oh, why had she not learnt how to fight properly? She wouldn't even hurt a fly. And she called herself a werewolf. It was what she was, but Monica didn't feel like it. She could not even defend herself from a bunch of amateur morons.

Lethargic and exhausted, her body stinging with cuts and bruises, she could feel herself weakening. Her body was already in the stages of transforming back into a human, the bones and muscles rearranging themselves. Her feral eyes were becoming human again, and her claws were retracting. In the process of transforming and too busy anticipating to die, she barely heard the new, sudden thumps of bodies falling onto the ground. The hunters were being taken out one by one. Too afraid to move, she closed her eyes tightly and held back a sob, thinking that she would be next. The brunette didn't even want to know who it was that was busy taking out the hunters. She just couldn't bring herself to trust anything, not at this time, not tonight. Getting herself beaten up was already bad enough.

As quickly as it happened, the fighting stopped. Keeping her eyes tightly shut, Momo felt herself being picked up. Her muscles tense, and she was quite ready to bite whomever that had the nerve to do so. It suddenly dawned on her that she was naked, and even in her state, a red flush spread across her cheeks in the darkness. The situation suddenly became embarrassing, being caught beaten up and now naked. Her lashes fluttered at the concerned voice. Momo opened her eyes to meet the concerned gaze of a handsome young man, her saviour. She shook her head slowly at his question, trying hard not to cry. Biting her lip, she watched as he examined her wounds, and at the worst one, the one at her leg. Fortunately, the silver hadn't penetrated too deep into her skin, but it still hurt like a bitch nonetheless. "I'm allergic to silver," she mumbled in reply, fighting hard to pull down the familiar choking feeling around her throat that indicated that the waterworks were coming. Her body was trembling, and she knew that she was in shock. What would Kenzie and the rest say if they could see her now? This was what happened when she forgot things, and never heeded warnings.

"I'll...I'll be fine." Monica said, trying to make her tone strong and convincing, but failing miserably as usual. "I'm just...it's just c-cuts..." Turning her head away from the boy, she buried her face in her hands, feeling traumatized. It had been so scary, so terrifying to have her life flash before her eyes, to know that she had only been moments away from death. Things would have been different had she known had to defend herself, and be a little bit tougher. Unable to take it anymore, her frailty caved under and she began to sob, becoming a blubbery upset mess in front of this mysterious stranger/saviour. She didn't care if she was embarrassing herself anymore, she really, really just needed a good cry, right here, right now.

TAGS dorian WORDS

[/b] - NOTES </3 aww momo.[/div]

template created by NAGA for use on NIGHTMARE.[/center]

[DORIAN ISAAC REID]

• All the memories left by the day, And I'm questioning why •

The sight in front of Dorian was pitiful. His fighter instincts had kicked in and the hunters had no chance, but the poor woman was naked and bleeding, and Dorian wished he had hurt the hunters more than he had. They called themselves protectors, but he was pretty sure that the girl laying on the ground now wouldn't have done anything to harm anyone. Of course, first impressions could be wrong, but Dorian didn't think so. She was naked and shivering, and he pulled her up onto the bench, his blue eyes filled with concern for her. He instantly shrugged his jacket off and placed it over her shoulders, wrapping it tight around her slim body. He was much bigger than her, so his jacket was almost like a blanket on her. Good, that would help. Allergic to silver. Dorian recognised that the cut wouldn't be fatal, but it being silver made it much worse. His hands touched her ankle so gently, as if she was about to break. He gave a disgusted look to the hunters still unconscious on the ground. Seems like he had hit them harder than he'd thought. Good.

Dorian took in a deep breath, his heart going out to the girl because she looked like she was about to break. The next thing he knew, her face was in her arms, and she was crying, and Dorian knew better than to tell her not to cry, that everything was okay, because it wasn't. She had been attacked and it was a big deal and Dorian got that. However, he didn't know how willing she was to let a stranger comfort her, so he was tentative as he inched closer. "I'm Dorian ... I'm not going to hurt you, okay?" He assured her, his blue eyes boring into her brown ones. "The wounds won't heal unless we clean them ... I can take care of them, or I can walk you home ..." He wanted to give her a choice, and deal with the cuts that affected her so badly. He didn't want to see this woman cry, crumble under her hands, it was actually kind of painful to watch and he hated that. He hated seeing weaker people being picked on for no other reason than prejudice.

Dorian had always fought for what he thought was right, through hundreds and even thousands of years, he protected what he believed needed protecting, fought in wars of which side he'd believed in, smuggled people when they've been treated so perversely that it sickened him. He was lucky enough to have had Cyrus by his side for all that time, but sometimes he had to deal with things on his own, and he could become angry and hateful. After all, having been alive for over two thousand years would make a man not just black and white, but all the shades of grey in between. Dorian wanted to help the girl on the bench, he had told her his name so they would no longer be strangers, it made someone easier to trust. It was kind of like that when he smuggled Anna's family out of the concentration camps in world war two, and he had been lucky enough to meet Joan, his wife who died in childbirth. But in essence, he had had to help her, and the trust went a lot way.

The hunters were starting to stir, and he knew that if they started another attack, he was not sure that he could hold back the strength of the blows. Really, Dorian was no killer, but sometimes it happened when you carried such immense power in your muscles and in your blood. He was lucky enough to have control over his vampiric tendencies and not feel blood lust at the smell of this girls blood. Age went a long way with monsters like Dorian. He ran a hand through his hair, and leaned in to take the girls hands from her face in his, a soft expression on his face, hopefully calming her. He had some calming tendencies, he had to learn to, especially when Cyrus had his fit a few decades ago, and no one could talk sense into him, but Dorian had come the closest. "I don't want to hurt the hunters ... and I would really feel more at ease if I could look over the cuts ... But if you're really against coming with me, I'll take you home or to a hospital, okay?" It was all up to her, Dorian was not the bad guy, nor did he ever wish to be.

• As you look to the sky, That it's cloudless up above our heads •

[/style][style=font-family:arial narrow;font-size:8px;text-align:center;letter-spacing:3px;text-transform:uppercase;]tagged momo/naga | words 772 | outfit[plus jacket] |notes ;DDD

template made by cupcakesss of Caution 2.0

[/style]

[MONICA DIONE YOUNGER]

i'm waking up, i feel it in my bones

[/size][/color]

enough to make my systems blow

It was a good thing that she was capable of being an emotional wreck, because the moment she felt that her tears were drying up, Monica began to feel better, The horror and shock about what happened would no doubt leave a scar, but she would always carry on, and things did get better all the time. That was what made Monica as a person, always looking forward and never allowing the past to get to her head. Her optimism and innocence had no boundaries, and for the sake of many, she was to keep it that way. Of course such things could only stretch so far, but for the time being, she was actually quite happy with being herself. Although the fact that she did need to toughen up was indeed pretty imperative...luckily there were people like Indy that could help which is now currently in another thread so hopefully she won't freak out so much next time

She looked up, her brown eyes meeting his blue ones. There was no sign that this stranger was going to do her any harm like the hunters just did, and he did save her after all. Logically thinking, if he wanted to indeed harm her, he would probably have done so already. She could smell that he was a vampire, a being that consumed blood to survive. Now, Monica had no problems with any of the other supernaturals, but she had always found the bloodsuckers intimidating with their fangs and all, and most of all, their even more intimidating diet. But this man...this man in front of her did not fit the stereotypical vampire. He looked like any ordinary human, and had she not the keen senses of werewolf, she wouldn't have known that he was a creature of the night. Yet, her gut instinct told her that he was safe, and Momo found herself relaxing. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hands, removing any last traces of tears.

"Monica," sniffled the little werewolf. Though she had already figured out that he indeed wasn't going to hurt her, hearing them from his mouth itself convinced her entirely. She glanced down at herself when he said 'wounds', and let out a low growl when she saw the open cuts on herself. Not to mention the fact that her leg hurt like a bitch too. She then thought on whether she should choose on allowing him to help her, or she could go home and treat them herself. The latter option was immediately tossed out of the window the more she thought about it. Her parents would freak at seeing her injured, and would probably never let her out again. Monica couldn't have that, so the only remaining option was to put her trust and faith into this Dorian person. It was all she could do.

She followed his gaze to the now stirring hunters, and cringed at the thought of being beaten up and being on the brink of death again. Shaking her head on whether she wanted to go home or go to the hospital, she replied with a swift "I'm coming with you." The brunette rose, shaky fingers clinging on to the jacket wrapped around her like a blanket. Her legs wobbled, sharp jolts of pain stabbing through them each time she so much as twitched them, but she held back a cry of pain, gritting her teeth. She leaned on Dorian when he moved to help her, trying to walk properly but with little success.

"Where are we going?" she asked, shuffling her feet when they began to walk. She was willing to go anywhere with him, just as long as it wasn't her home or the hospital. The last thing that she wanted was for her family to be alerted of her condition, and her status of a werewolf. The wounds should be healing up soon enough by themselves anyway...except the silver part.

TAGS dorian WORDS

[/b] - NOTES -[/div]

template created by NAGA for use on NIGHTMARE.[/center]

[DORIAN ISAAC REID]

• All the memories left by the day, And I'm questioning why •

Being a man, Dorian was naturally not excellent with comforting a crying woman, but he's had to do it a few times over in his past. Because he and Cyrus were very big on the whole saving people business, they would have to calm them down. But he figured that it was better to let her cry it out, after all, Dorian was a stranger and he didn't want to seem dodgy or anything. She was just a fragile young woman and Dorian's heart went out for her. He has personally never had any prejudices against werewolves, yet from earlier and by her scent he could tell what she was. It didn't matter, because to him anyone innocent was a potential friend. He'd never act any differently with any other species just because of a prejudice. That was not who he he was. Dorian gave her some time, watching her carefully as she wiped away her tears. He wanted to put a reassuring hand on her shoulder, yet he thought better of it.

Dorian's lips quirked into a smile when she told him her name, friendly and inviting much like he'd learned he should be when someone was distressed. "Pleasure to meet you Monica, though I do wish it was under different circumstances." He spoke to distract her from the hunters on the floor, from her pain, hoping that if he spoke to her she'd forget the need to cry. He wished he'd had a tissue of some sort to give for her nose and wet cheeks, but he did not. He gave her complete control over what she wanted to do. If she wanted his help or not, though Dorian had been hoping she'd take it. He would bet anything that she didn't realise just how old he was, that he knew how to fix any kind of wound because he'd been injured with them himself. Sure, he couldn't know what silver felt like in the bloodstream of a wolf, but he sure knew how to fix it. The relief was clear on his face when she declared that she was coming with him. Good. This way he didn't have to worry that she'd get into trouble.

The vampire could see the difficulty with which the woman was walking, the gritted teeth were loud in his ears, he could hear them. He frowned and stopped, looking down at her, and right now, he didn't really care that it might be forward as long as he didn't have to watch her walk in pain. "I can take you to my home, it's not far, and I've got things to clean that up with." He told her, eyeing the blood running down her leg from the shot, but they really needed to get a move on because he didn't want to kill any hunters in front of an innocent woman. Because Dorian might seem gentle and sweet, but he was a vicious warrior. Always had been, even when he was human he aspired to be a gladiator, a killer in his own right because it boiled his blood to be a good fighter, and that certainly had transferred onto now. He still liked blood shed, but only if it was that of people who do evil. He'd never touch an innocent person. He'd rather swallow a wooden stake.

With a small sigh, he spoke. "I hope you don't mind ... but it might be less painful to you if I carried you." He eyed her for resistance for a second, giving her a chance to truly say no, before he motioned for her to wrap an arm around his neck and he hooked his arm under her knees, one arm on her back as he picked her up to carry her bridal style. "There ... this will hurt less." He says, no strain in his voice because to his vampire strength she was barely there. He could smell her, feel her breath on his neck as he walked slowly, careful not to jostle her too much. "So, tell me Monica ... how did a little thing like you manage to get into such a mess?" He asked, trying to lighten the situation a little, offering her a friendly smile. "I really do hope that this is not a regular thing for you, hm?" He almost teased, trying to make light of the situation because he knew that small distractions were always best, plus it would make him seem less of a stranger, and more approachable.

• As you look to the sky, That it's cloudless up above our heads •

[/style][style=font-family:arial narrow;font-size:8px;text-align:center;letter-spacing:3px;text-transform:uppercase;]tagged momo/naga | words 752 | outfit[plus jacket] |notes so sorry i took so long!

template made by cupcakesss of Caution 2.0

[/style]

[MONICA DIONE YOUNGER]

i'm waking up, i feel it in my bones

[/size][/color]

enough to make my systems blow

Being the general, trusting sweetheart that she usually was, it did not take Monica long for her to put her entire faith in Dorian. Trust in another person tended to generally build up very quickly for her, especially if they had done something good. The male vampire's heroic actions had made the werewolf waste no time in trying to finding out who he was, and then put her life into him. It was what made her a person as a whole, but at the same time, dangerously naive. It was why her pack often kept such a sharp eye on her because she was simply that fragile, easy to manipulate and break. So far, nothing of that sort had traumatized her to such a point that she was a complete former shadow of herself, but only time would tell when it came to such things in this lifetime.

The werewolf couldn't help the silver tinkle of laughter at what he said next, and shook her head. She did wish it was such as well, but ah well, what can you do am I right. Though to be honest, she was surprised at herself for not bumping into the handsome vampire a lot sooner, Being out and about the city on a daily basis, Momo had met many, many people during her wanderings. It almost seemed as though her goal was to know the entire city's population, but really, it was just her sociable nature kicking in whenever she was outside. She practically talked to anyone and everyone at any time of the day just to lighten up any atmosphere. It didn't matter on whether the person she spoke to was rude or not, she was still damn well gonna talk to you.The nicer you were, the better you were and easier to talk to of course, but everyone was different. "It's nice to meet you too, Dorian." she smiled. "Thank you for helping me."

"I can live with that," chirped the tiny werewolf, feeling her old spirit coming back again. She honestly didn't mind going anywhere now, as long as it was with him. He had proven that he was trustworthy already, what with saving her from those hunters and all. And he seemed like a kind, gentle soul as well, so it was really a huge bonus for her. It saved the time she needed to try getting him to warm up to her. Momo often failed to understand why they wouldn't anyway. Life was too short for moping around, and if there was any chance she could make someone's day better by talking to them, she was damn well going to do it.

She turned a bit red at the the offer of him carrying her. "Eh?" she squeaked. Now, in usual circumstances, she would not have allowed this, but the current situation was currently calling for otherwise. Dorian's words made sense as well. Naive as she was, she was able to recognize logic when she saw it. Nodding, she wrapped her arms around his neck, and squeaked when he lifted her up. Her grip around his neck was vicelike, but quickly relaxed. "I was walking," Momo explained while he walked the both of them in the direction of his home, "And then all of a sudden, these goons appeared out of nowhere." She crinkled her nose and sniffed. "I wonder why."

"No...not really..." she trailed off, deep in thought. Things like this did often happen to her because of her lack of focus to constantly be on alert. "Actually, yes, kinda." the brunette admitted sheepishly. "Not as deadly as this one though...I am usually indoors by nightfall. What about you Dorian?" Her grey eyes looked at him curiously. "What were you doing out so late?"

TAGS dorian WORDS

[/b] - NOTES -[/div]

template created by NAGA for use on NIGHTMARE.[/center]

[DORIAN ISAAC REID]

• All the memories left by the day, And I'm questioning why •

Dorian was to hear the small amount of laughter from the tiny woman, and he offered his own smile. He supposed it was quite the funny notion, wishing to have met under different circumstances, but something told the vampire that they would have hit it off anyway. Though it was a little worrying at how easily she was trusting him, but that was easier too, since he did save her from the hunters. Dorian was generally a person who made friends easily, he had a big heart, no matter that he'd killed. He had only killed for the right cause, just those people who deserved it, and other that that he was very much a protector. He was someone who always went out of his way to make sure that innocents were not being harmed, and as chivalrous as that might have been, the male was positively vicious and merciless when he needed to be. Even he, sometimes, made the wrong decisions.

Nevertheless, he had an injured girl to deal with, and it was his pleasure to help her. He hated to see anyone suffer, especially so wrongly attacked. "Don't worry about it, you can thank me later. For now, we need to deal with your injury and get away from these men." He murmurs softly, looking around in disgust at the hunters. Monica didn't look like she could harm a fly, she was one young woman who multiple men attacked and that didn't sit right with Dorian, not at all. When he offered to take her to his home, she didn't even blink before accepting, and the vampire still found concern with that. "You seem very trusting of someone you met five minutes ago." He comments, curiosity in his expression as he eyes her. "I mean, that makes it easier for me to help you, but not everyone has the right intentions like I do." His voice is soft, guiding almost, his age showing through wisdom though he was sure that she wouldn't be able to guess how old he was.

Dorian picked Monica up easily, she was as light as a feather, and he was sure he wouldn't even get breathless as he carried her home. He would have to make sure that the general public didn't really see this because they might take it the wrong way, but the girl in his arms was not struggling or anything, so that also made the journey easier. Dorian listened to her voice, soft and calming as she spoke of the men who attacked her. "I think it's because of what you are." He murmurs softly, since her head was right by his mouth and she'd be able to hear him perfectly. Dorian smiled a little and looked at her. "Hunters, they think they have a cause to kill anyone not of pure human blood." He explains, though he is sure that Monica knows this. "They do get the bad guys, but sometimes, their irrationality makes them hurt the good guys too, and that's where I find my problem with hunters." Dorian finds that he likes talking to Monica, even though they barely just met, there was no way they can say they were still strangers.

Dorian had to chuckle when she said that these things did happen often to her, but he was glad that he was here for this one. That he could help her. Then the question came onto him and he sighed softly. "I was working late. I'm a counsellor at the school, and then I went to see my brother. We're twins, so that's always fun. I like to walk, so I was walking home. Nothing creepy." He grins a little and takes a turn, and then another. Soon, he was at his home. It was a strange thing, to walk to a house that he and his brother shared. Dorian had met Cyrus for dinner before his next mission, and now the house would be empty, and big and lonesome as it always was. He licked his lips and when finally at the door, he stopped. "Alright, I am going to put you down so I can get my keys out, okay?" He asks, moving to gently put her down. "Hold onto me." He tells her and unlocks the door, opening it. "Can you walk inside?" It really was a short walk to the living room.

• As you look to the sky, That it's cloudless up above our heads •

[/style][style=font-family:arial narrow;font-size:8px;text-align:center;letter-spacing:3px;text-transform:uppercase;]tagged momo/naga | words 731 | outfit[plus jacket] |notes <33

template made by cupcakesss of Caution 2.0

[/style]