Dark Storm Rising -OPEN-

I noticed something...

This is the first time I've done a werewolf transformation... I've done creatures shifting into other creatures before... but never a human/two-legged-to-monster tranformation before..... o.O"

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Ivan wasn't sure for how long he glided through the woods for. He wasn't even sure of where he was, nor of the creatures that dwelled here. All he knew was that he was only moments away from loosing capabillity to think rationally before settling into the mind of a Monster.

Amethyst irises reflected like shimmering mirrors as they scanned the area. Russian finally slowed to a halt in one of the deep areas of the forest; He could detect other living beings nearby.... but he didn't have time to worry about that at this given moment; he felt an ice-cold claw grip his insides and jerk.

A beam of moonlight that was released from the dark sky filtered between the leaves and shone its radiant light over the small area. Some would marvel at the gentle white light.... but Ivan's mind was more than elsewhere.

The Russian's eyes widened as he saw the beam of light and stumbled backwards until his back hit a tree. His heart began to pound much quicker than what was healthy, the pulse pounded hard against his ears; in fact, if one were to be listening closely, they would have noticed that Ivan's heart was racing at such a dangerous rate that it could be mistaken for two heartbeats...

His skin crawled in the most unpleasant way as his muscles began to slowly slither out of place and begin to form into a different anatomy. He groaned and wrapped his arms over his own chest, looking like he was hugging himself as his knees buckled and his back slid down against the trunk of the tree. Ivan kicked his socks and boots off before letting go of himself and managing to slip both his coat and cloak off of his shoulders. His teeth clenched, trying his very best to not cry out as his inner systems cramped and began to painfully fall out of their human place before shifting into their entirely new positions. The Russian stripped his shirt over his own head and tossed it to the side before pulling his knees to his chest and wrapping his arms tightly around them, his breathing becoming more labored and heavy. The flesh of his bare torso crawled.... rippled as the muscles beneath cramped and slowly ripped into their new position.

Suddenly, Ivan couldn't take is anymore. He threw his head back and cried out as an extreme shock of agony stabbed through his body; It felt like someone had tied a string to nearly every bone of his body and slowly began to pull in different directions, resulting in the sensasion of Ivan's bones being pulled out of their place and forced into a new one. The Russian clenched, writhing momentarily in desperate attempt to rid himself of this tormenting feeling. Ivan bit down on his tongue and shut his eyes tightly as his own eyes began to change, yet he couldn't surpress a long, drawn out whine of pain.

Off grey-white fur began to peek it's way through Ivan's hunched-over back, the white slowly bled to his arms and down his toreso like a virus. The Russian once more threw his head back and shouted as the bones in his face crushed together and began to merge into a more wolf-like appearance. Fange grew from his teeth, and his ears began to lengthen.

Sooner than one would expect, Ivan's body spazzed several times as the transformation neared an end. In place of the silver-haired Russian on the floor; a large silvery Wolf lay instead.

He didn't appear exactly like a wolf; if on were to look at him, they could easily tell this was no ordinary forest lupine. Werewolves' muzzles were thicker and a bit shorter. Their bodies were better muscled, their ears larger, and their legs were longer.

The creature remained whimpering softly on the ground, enduring the 'aftershocks' of the painful transformation. The wolf finally opened his lungs and took a long draw of breath, yet snorted at what he found traced in the night air.

Multi-colored eyes snapped open with a low growl as the creature shuffled to it's feet and sniffed the air. Ivan rose his front paws off the ground ever so slightly to get a better whiff.... but when he finally placed a finger on exactly what that stench was.... hackles rose, and that upper lip rippled upwards in a deep growl;

Vampire.

Ivan could detect other creatures there too, yet that foul stench of a vampire dominated the scene. He had caught the sent of Arthur Kirkland.

The Russian within the wolf began to feel himself slipping... loosing control of his new body as the sent of a Vampire triggered an instinctive rivalry. Bye, bye sanity...

The werewolf threw it's head back and reliesed a long, eerie howl from the depths of his chest before springing forward and bounding in the direction of Arthur, Alfred, and Gilbert.

Frothing jowls snapped and snarled, fur rose and black talons dug into the hard, dry ground as if it were sand at each long bound the direction of the three....

There will be sweet blood tonight...

"Lynette, you're not-" The Frenchman stopped once the Italian came into sight. He let out a rather impatient sigh, his icy blue eyes flickering to crimson red as they settled on the Italian. "Mon dieu..Feliciano, quite the troublesome one, aren't you?" The low, hostile growl began rising up the Frenchman's throat as he glared slightly at the Italian, who, by the obvious look of it, was targetting his sister.


“Your blood… It sure attracts men. How about we get to know each other?”

Francis narrowed his eyes in annoyance and glanced at Lynette, then back at the Italian, letting out a light hiss. "Enough, Feliciano. How typical of a newborn.." Hissed the Frenchman, a defensive glimmer flickering in his gaze. As much as Francis saw to protect yet scold his sister, he wouldn't be one to mourn much if he ever witnessed her death. The unwanted feelings would pass, as though they never existed, and the Frenchman would return to his nightly routine without worry.

"I'd prefer to put you in your proper place, however let's leave that for later, shall we, mon ami? Lay a single hand nor fang on my sister, and you'll leave with a broken wing." Scoffed the Frenchman, flipping back a lock of his blonde hair, rather casually yet in a haughty manner.

Arthur smirked, sensing the uneasiness he caused Alfred. Another reason why he was the stronger and smarter one of the two in this situation.

The vampire suddenly pulled his finger back and took a few steps away from Alfred, sensing another presence other than the male in front of them. 'Werewolf...' He thought to himself. Just when he thought this night could lead to his success in truning the Hunter into a vamp, that beast had to appear. Arthur wasn't scared, but if the the Hunter and wolf decided to turn on him, he would be in massive trouble. Alfred would be an easy target to take down, but the wolf was another different being all together.

[I wonder if this will lead to a fight... :l IVAN.]

The small Latvian boy sat crying in the empty farmhouse bathed by the moonlight streaming in from the broken window. Inside his head, memories of his brother were being relived. Eduard had lived like a dog, yet died like a sheep. He began to drift away into his past, The home were Raivis had once lived was warm and loving, now it had been transformed into coldness and regret.

He yearned to race into Eduard's embrace and hear his voice again telling him that everything was going to be alright. He wished more than anything to turn back time and prevent this living nightmare. The pain inside of him was growing ever so quickly by the moment. Slowly feeling along the ground, His hands met a long shard of broken glass from the broken window.

Slowly opening His eyes, He grasped the shard of glass with both hands and began raising it toward his throat. Raivis peered up at the full moon in the dark night sky, its seemed to be welcoming him into the next life. Without taking His eyes off the moon, He let his emptiness consume him. With all his strength, Raivis swiftly slashed his throat. Raivis didn't even feel the pain from the wound as blood flowed out from his throat, Nothing could ever harm him anymore than his shattered heart. Carefully He laid down on his side as his vision became blurred, He slowly closed his eyes for the last time. The body of the small child laid blanketed by the moonlight, a broken heart that the world forgot.
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After what felt like moments, Raivis was awoken by the cheerful sound of birds chirping from nearby. He groggily opened his eyes and looked around, to his suprise, He was laying in a field of flowers. He saw nothing but beautiful flowers for what seemed like miles, quickly He placed his hand to where the gash in his throat to find it was completley healed. A gentle breeze blew through the flower field as Raivis stood up. He looked up at the big beautiful blue sky and the shinning sun. He couldn't help but smile as He saw rabbits hop through the flowers, everything was peaceful here, just as he remembered how his childhood felt.

"Latviaaaaaaaa!"

The boy heard the familiar voice call his name and ran as fast as he could toward the voice. He saw Eduard smiling warmly as He ran straight into his arms. The Brothers were once again reunited and walked off smiling into the horizon together.

Well, then.

Latvia... that post. Just... Dat. Post.

It was amazing. To be honest, it snapped me back to actually reply to this thing. It makes me only want to kill our dear friend Feli even more kiddingkiddingkidding...maybe...

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“Werewolf….”

Once that fateful word crossed the British vampire’s mind, a harsh roaring bark thundered out from the treeline. Right as the noise made itself known, something large and silver sprang like a missile over the thicket of shrubs and collided into Arthur, knocking the British vampire backwards several feet. The creature landed on all fours behind the fallen vampire before digging his black talons into the ground. Jowls snapped together as the lupine twisted it’s body around to face the vampire, using his talons to skid to a halt. Even at first glance at the new creature, one could easily tell this was no ordinary forest lupine.

The werewolf’s upper lip rippled upward as a throaty, venomous growl pulsed between the creature’s bared tusks. The thick, bristled fur of the lupine rippled the color of silvery snow in the moonlight as he prowled slowly nearer to his ancient rival. The wolf seemed to either flat-out ignore the nearby hunter, or he just didn’t notice; those foggy, lantern-like orbs of amethyst were fixed on the vampire with a bitter, ancient hatred that flickered like hellfire.

In the haze of the earlier stages of the transformation, the Wolf knew no rash decisions. He saw what he wanted…. And he wanted it dead.

The silvery creature rose his front paws off the ground a few inches as an unearthly roar ripped from its shaggy throat. Ivan kicked off the ground with his hind legs and bounded toward the vampire, snapping those frothing jowls and aiming for the kill….

Ivan kicked off the ground in mid-bound, front talons up and aimed for the chest and jaws parted to meet the throat of the vampire when….

A harsh yelp shot out from the area, and the werewolf toppled to the ground. At first glance, one might have thought the wolf had been shot by some unseen bullet… but no. No blood splattered the creature’s fur.

Once the glass shard met the Latvian’s throat, Ivan – even in the flurry of the werewolf slaughter instinct – felt a burning sensation slash through his own throat. He hardly even noticed he toppled into the ground. Visions of the full moon flashed before his eyes. The moonbeams… that precious ray of light, shattering the darkness as if that army of black was not even there. Suddenly, an empty feeling engulfed the Russian hidden within the beast. A loud, drawn-out wail slipped from the fallen werewolf’s lungs; He knew what happened…. He felt this way when Estonia died:

Ivan knew that Latvia, his last Baltic, had fallen.

Even though the visions lasted only for a few seconds, those few seconds were enough for anything to happen:

In those few seconds, the werewolf was vulnerable to any attacks the vampire might try…

Francis snapped to attention at Viorica's sudden appearence, raising an eyebrow.

"Feliciano, Francis, let's stop this fighting, shall we? If I were you, I would make your way to the meeting right now before something..unfortunate were to happen.."

The Frenchman knew better than to argue, although he did his best to resist letting out a snappy retort. But of course, picking a fight with a high-ranking vampire such as Viorica would prove both disloyal and useless. The meeting was far more important than he and the Italian's little quarrel, Francis reminded himself, even the slightest bit amused at the thought.

Naturally, Viorica's rather intimidating presense alone automatically put Francis back in his proper place; the Frenchman cleared his throat slightly, glancing aside and giving a curt nod in acknowledgement. "As you wish, mademoiselle.." He replied quickly, glancing at her for a moment before swiftly shifting into his little bat form, now red eyes narrowed, tiny wings flapping rapidly.

((*le trying to cath up*.........))

Lynette looked wide eyed at the Italian & presumed to stand up, ignoring the sharp pains in her leg from her gunshot wound. "Back up before I shoot...AGAIN!" she said, balancing on her good leg to heep from causing more pain in the injured leg. She started to reach for her gun again, but soon another vampire appeared. "Merde," she grumbled, slowly backing away. She knew she was injured & was trying her best to avoid a fight, so as the two vampires & her brother were talking, she sneaked away back towards the barn to see if she could find something for that leg.

In an effort to catch up... this took me 3 hours to read through and think of a re-entrance. -le sigh- time for some drama!
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The Russian huntress heard the howling through the forest. She knew what it was and it was the werewolves. Ivana could hardly care for the furry beasts but a pain in her chest told her of something else. A familiar feeling of nostalgia went through for she recognize one of the werewolves' scent and shock came to her for she realized who the scent belonged to.

"Ivan... my dearest brat... you can't be alive... right?"

Ai need to know... she thought.

Wasting no time, the huntress darted through the woods until she saw a large white wolf. Watching it through the trees, Ivana analyzed the wolf. It was completely snow white but the wolf's eyes were a beautiful amethyst purple. Ivana recognized the eyes but still continued to observe the wolf.

She put her twin blades into the sheaths on her back and kept her grip on one of them in case the white wolf should attack her. The midnight hour was soon to approach...

Crimson eyes glowed into the dark forest, his fangs visible hanging out of his lips and looked at the french for mere minuted. Aware of the transylvanian presence and warning about the upcoming meeting. Not speaking any word, his red eyes shifted looking up at the direction of the moon... He realized there isn't much time till the sun, their known enemy is coming forth, there isn't much time to consider attacking another vampire. Looking back at the french, a smirk flashed on his featured and held his chin up high and looked at the youngest vampire around.

He took steps towards the youngest vampire and took her hand, kissing it. "As you wish, my maiden", he gazed at the french vampire and smiled. "In fact. We all should be at the meeting". He took steps again. "Is walking the quickest way to the mansion of flying?", he asked.

The Prussian smiled with faux gratitude towards the American hunter. "Really? Many thanks, fri--..." Gilbert's calm voice was interrupted by the rolling echo of an anguished howl and his face faltered in slight confusion. He turned his head 'round to the origin of a familiar roar that had not reached his ears in decades. Gilbert hadn't seen hide or hair of his species in what felt like an eternity. Didn't the hunters and vampires whittle down the population? He wasn't notified of any recent turnings either...the archbishop was fairly convinced he was the last of what little of his kind were left. Surely, these howls were a trick of the mind, just a hallucination. The moonlight was getting to him and was disorienting the sleep-deprived Prussian.

But he could sense his nearby kin. He could almost see the monster. What if it was a fledgling? Newbies were known for their berserk and unpredictable behavior. But what if it was a seasoned veteran? There was a saying that warned about two tigers unable to inhabit the same mountain. Should the other be aggressive and territorial, Gilbert would whole-heartedly battle to the death.

This was bad. Terrible. Dangerous. Risky. The list could go on and on.

Gilbert turned his attention back to the other two. "The vampire is right. There's a werewolf nearby. We should quickly relocate." He spoke seriously, the severity of the situation emphasized by his urgency. "We won't be saf--" Again, the Prussian found himself cut short by another roar. It was closer. Angrier. Then everything was a blur. He didn't react fast enough. He couldn't react fast enough.

The beast crashed through the forest and into the open, attacking the unfortunate vampire with vehement ferocity. As dynamic as its entry had been, Gilbert held fast to his calm demeanor but was speechless by the werewolf's brash front. Not only was it brash, but stupid and foolish.

Newbie...

Intervention would be clean and simple.

Gilbert, about to release the umbrella that shielded him from the light of the full moon, prepared himself for a light brawl when he stopped to watch the beast crumple on the ground in utter agony. The Prussian was confused if not sorry for the werewolf but chose to remain as a bystander until the time called against it. He didn't have to get sucked into a battle here and now, right? Right. So he waited. And waited. His revolting creature of a relative appeared. It was fortunate he was under the Church's thumb otherwise he would have torn her to bits. It was encouraged to love one another including thine enemies which never really made much sense to Gilbert, but what the hell. Rules were rules.

He flashed a toothy grin at Viorica, sharpened teeth prominently shown through the smile. "Fancy meeting you here, m'lady." The wolfsbane was losing its charm by now. He would end up turning like his silver friend if he didn't find shelter soon. "Since when were you afraid of midnight?" The male didn't stop for an answer. "A home sounds nice but," His red eyes flicked over to the other werewolf, "What about him? Surely you won't let him in while he's like that." He grimaced and passed the umbrella handle from one hand to the other. "If it's more convenient for you, most gracious host, I'll babysit him for the time being."