Skin Deep

From the number of disturbing noises, Isalien assumed that the creatures were losing, and despite the grotesque nature of fights she had to try very hard to refrain from looking through the barrier to watch. She wondered why Beal was killing them; they had no power she could take. Her face drained of color more and more as she continued to listen to the fight, fretting about how the other beasts would react, how vigilant they would be in their attempts to kill her after this. The water may have had something to do with the loss of color, too, but she hardly noticed it was cool.

Finally, silence fell outside the barrier, and shortly afterward she felt the barrier near her repel something. Probably Beal trying to get back in, so she wasted no time pulling on the sopping wet clean t-shirt and wading through the water towards the shadow outside the barrier, squinting through until she finally saw that it was Beal. Her palm connected to the barrier and it opened without hesitation, allowing Beal to return inside.

Isalien backed away and plunked back into the water. She didn't particularly want to be seen with nothing but a wet shirt on. Around Beal was a swarm of something she really hadn't wanted to see; nothing but life energy, bright and burning, taunting her with its closeness. She just gaped at the energy swirling around Beal for a while, conflicted.

"... Life energy. You... want me to use life energy," she muttered, ducking further under the water. "I am not meant to take that, though. I have never taken that. How do I take it and use it? Life and power are different."


So she said, but truthfully she wanted it. She wanted to try it, because she knew no bodily harm would come to her from taking it. Other consequences were completely forgotten.


"Can you come here? I would rather not move just yet."

((Blood and violence, yay! I enjoyed the violence. ))
 
Beal stepped through the barrier and observed as Isalien hurriedly got back into the water, he almost grunted in amusement even if he didn't know what the big deal was. Which reminded him of his pants, being ripped to mostly shreds now. She beckoned to him and he only complied because he had wanted to get into the water himself, now covered in more grit than before.

He didn't walk directly toward her, he veered to the side and hopped into the water. The resulting splash was that of something that had a very large amount of mass, which he did have. His feet sank when he stood on a muddy portion of the river bed. Extracting himself from he mud was quite annoying because he kept sinking but he finally stood on mostly rocky footing. The adjustment had brought him closer to Isalien, who's face was barely above the water. From her he looked at the power that swirled around him. It seemed different from straight life force, it seemed when he would drain it out of a person it combined with the power that came from their flesh, or something to that effect. Perhaps it was converting biological mass into energy....In any case he had the energy.

Beal's face remained stony as usual. He splashed water onto his in an attempt at getting some of the grit off. He still didn't know if he could breath underwater, when Beal's consciousness first started to emerge he wasn't aware of most of the things his body could do and he felt there may be more to discover. When he'd ditch Isalien, that's when he'd test it out. For now Beal held his breath and dunked himself underwater and when he came back up shook his head like a wet dog. Beal appeared to not pay her any particular mind, he had gotten what he wanted from the ordeal, to fight and destroy the beasts; he started scraping the blood from his arms and the small puncture wounds he had gotten. If she wanted the power that burned around him, it seemed slightly like mist now due to him being rib deep in water, she could take it. Unless Beal wanted to taunt her with it, which he started considering.

((Violence is what Beal's good at. :B))
 
Why was he meandering around in the water? She would have tip-toed closer and taken it, but he kept moving, so she just stood there with her armed crossed, staring at him plainly and trying valiantly not to giggle when he got stuck in the mud. There were little puncture wounds on his arms that were the only wounds she could see, but she wasn't surprised at the lack of wounds. She was more surprised that they were there in the first place; the monsters bit hard-- she still had the scars on her left ankle to remember that, but he had fought werewolves without a getting a scratch.

Isalien blew bubbles in the water, waiting for him to hold still, but after a few seconds she became too impatient and took action on her own. She inched her way closer to him sideways in an attempt at modesty, reaching out the hand that wasn't across her chest. Her fingertips warmed as they neared the odd energy, and her eyelids fluttered in relief from both the warmth and the security that was literally at her fingertips. Then one foot slipped into a muddy shallow ditch on the bottom just as she was close enough to absorb that energy. She would have yelped in surprise, but her mouth was underwater so the only result was a muffled squeak, lots of bubbles, and flailing limbs.

She righted herself by pulling backwards and away from Beal. She looked frustrated, balanced on the toes of her left foot to push herself further out of the water and leering at the energy billowing around him.

"Could you hold out your arm? I don't want to get stuck again," she mumbled, tilting her head up to keep her mouth out of the water.
 
Beal could tell Isalien was having a tough time but made no moves to help her, instead trying to scrape the grit from his back but found it difficult. He'd get out in a minute rub against a tree or something.

There was an excess amount of squeaking and flailing and splashing behind Beal and as he turned around he saw Isalien drown briefly. When she would come back up out of the water she would see that he was watching her with his arms folded across his chest just watching her. Briefly it occurred to Beal that he'd never seen a female naked, he wondered if this was something worth worrying about. He decided it wasn't since what some one looked like when they were naked had nothing to do with them being killed. Beal unfolded his arms and bent down in the water.

He found what he was looking for, a porous rock which he used to scrub at his skin. It appeared different when he looked at his skin compared to Isaliens. When he looked at her skin he could see pieces of dead skin sloughed off by the water or whenever she brushed against something. But his skin didn't do that, he shed no pieces at all. He didn't know what to make of this observation so he just let it be. Mumbled words came to Beal's ears and he faced Isalien...she was so short, or was standing in a pit under the water. With an annoyed sigh Beal held his arm out to the floundering girl.
 
She felt Beal was looking at her the same way he'd look at a half-dead piece of roadkill trying to latch onto his leg for a free ride, which in and of itself was enough to make her avoid eye contact, but combined with her attempts to keep her shirt from floating to the surface, she wanted to just beach herself on the bank and lay face-down there until the sun came out. Before, he had ducked under the water for some reason or another and she had locked her arms by her sides, keeping her shirt tacked down. What a strange person; he seemed clueless about normal things like embarrassment, but clueless seemed a weird thing for a monster to be.

No, that wasn't right. He wasn't a monster. Not yet. No more than she was when she was drunk on her own fear. He stuck his arm out to her despite being annoyed, giving her something to do other than think. She focused on his arm and eventually reached out with both hands, gripped it, and pulled herself over the mud-ditch so that she stood on the same rocky soil he did. As soon as her feet touched down, she figured out she could stand normally and only have her chin in the water. Much better than tip-toeing.

Isalien looked down at the puncture wounds on his arm under her fingers and wondered if they hurt. Did he even know what pain was? Yes; she had seen him wince before and grasp his chest like someone had poked his lungs or heart. It wasn't her business, but if she got the time she would ask anyways.

Until that time, though, she was tired of being wounded and constantly bleeding and having to move cautiously. She was anxious about drawing in the unique sort of energy and went slowly, passing her fingertips over his arm and concentrating solely on any changes she felt. The energy that was a fine mist over his skin took little urging to soak into Isalien's fingertips, but for an inanimate and bodiless matter, it seemed just as hesitant to enter the girl as she was about accepting it.

She felt little more than a boost of warmth and energy like she'd had a good amount of caffeine and taken a run, but she continued absorbing the mist, hoping she would feel more changes.

"It feels strange," she noted. "Don't you ever use it or feel anything from it?"

((Pantslessness is an unstoppable trend. *sheds pants* Yeah~ Pants are stewpid.))
 
Beal's arm supported her weight as if it was an iron bar fixed into place. She settled down in the water on the same patch of solid area he was standing on. He could tell she was thinking thoughts about him and his eyes narrowed in suspicion. She was looking at the punctures on his arm; Beal extracted his arm from her grasp and put his other arm out. The shallow holes did hurt, it was a cold kind of pain like coming out of the water when it was windy. Those beasts had been different from the werewolves, he couldn't place how. It wasn't the first time he'd had a wound, it would probably heal in a few hours.

Isalien was starting to draw the energy from him and it felt like the breeze was taking heat from his skin and was doing it slowly. The slowness was making him impatient, then she asked her question. Beal decided to answer her "I feel it's potential. A small portion of it nourishes me in place of food. Afterward it burns away..." She was taking it so slowly, Beal felt impatience akin to trying to feed a baby who only took little bites, not that he would ever be able to make that comparison himself. The sooner she had enough power, the sooner she could get off him, he didn't know if she'd try to take that little fire inside him. Beal flexed something inside himself. The result was a gush of the energy that had taken residence inside him, causing a slight breeze. To the proper eyes he would appear to be emanating a blueish-white flame, while his body remained dark.

((I was doing it before it was cool.....Beal's pants are all tore up. It's just so hard finding clothes in his durability league.))
 
Isalien paid little attention when he pulled his arm away from her and held out his other. She just moved over and grasped that arm with one hand after glancing at him curiously. His gaze was suspicious, though, something she took note of. Red eyes looked a bit menacing at all times, especially when they were glaring at you, but aside from making her look quickly away Beal's glare had little effect on her.

The energy nourished him? She didn't feel nourished yet, but she was beginning to feel more lively, and increased her rate of absorbing the life energy since she felt less wary of it now. She was standing just in front of Beal, so the flare of energy that came from him was impossible to miss. For half a second, she panicked. Had she done something, accidentally taken something he didn't want her to take? That usually never happened; her control was nearly perfect when she absorbed power. Her fingers settled on his arm again, no longer taking the energy.

"What was that for?" Her voice was a mix of confusion and indignance. "What is that?"

Even though the flames were invisible to humans, Isalien could see them entirely and seemed perplexed by them. What was that energy? Life? Power? Part of her wanted to move away from Beal and escape the odd flames, but slipping was still a possibility, and an underlying cause she didn't consciously recognize was that physical contact had become so rare in her life that she accepted the close proximity easily. If it was a touch that didn't involve harming her or Isalien stealing someone's power, it was a welcome thing despite any awkward circumstances. Later she may have understood why she didn't move, but the flames were distracting just then.

 
"Just take it already." The life energy had been altered as he extracted it, his body transforming it some how to be more easy to use, more efficient in hands that knew how to use it. Beal didn't know anything about it, just that it looked slightly different when he saw the energy inside some one before he took it. As he responded he noticed an emotion in her that was similar to the fuzziness he had detected earlier. Which made him realize she wasn't feeling afraid of him.

The realization was shocking to him. Even the most arrogant of the Wizards and Magicians had feared him when he was bound. The tendons in his arms flexed momentarily as his shock turned to irrational anger. He tried to keep his face still and inexpressive as he took both of Isalien's hands in his and leaned closer to her, gritting his teeth as he said "Just take it." And with that Beal began pushing the energy at Isalien, insistently trying to force feed her the energy through her hands and mouth. He wanted to be done with her.
 
((I don't think Beal realizes what he's just done...))

She was going to comply with his request until he grabbed her hands and leaned down, gritting his teeth like she had done something very upsetting or annoying. What did she do? She hadn't done anything on purpose! What was he doing? She didn't have to wait for an answer to her silent question.

Despite the darkness, Isalien's wide green eyes seemed to reflect light when she automatically accepted the energy that pushed itself at her, soaking into her fingers and seeping into her open mouth even when she was exhaling. That never happened. She always had to try to take it, even if a participant was willing, but never had it invaded her when she was only expecting it to come to her at a slow creep. Her hands tensed inside Beal's; the whole ordeal was painful, like she was sucking too much air into her lungs and holding in there for too long. Yet with every exhale, she wanted more of it. As much as it was painful, it was equally as addictive and exhilarating. It felt like she would hurt more without all of it than she would taking all of it in. There was so much of it; inside of him, outside of him, and floating near her all at once. And she wanted all of it, whether she could handle it all or not.

Forgetting the situation and not caring just who she was dealing with, Isalien stood up on her toes again, getting herself as high out of the water as possible. Just like she had with the mages in the school and many other victims, she tried to access any power inside of Beal through his mouth, but being on her toes didn't put her quite close enough, something that annoyed her. At least the power outside of him could still be inhaled through her mouth, even if she couldn't access the inside. But it was still in there taunting her.

All the while, her fingers burned from the rush of energy, mimicking the burn in her wounds as they knitted together torturously slow. It was an unwelcome mixture of pain and a warm tickling sensation, but she was too drunk on getting more power to really care about that. And no matter how she twisted or leaned, she couldn't get high enough to reach his mouth.

"It's not enough. Not enough and not fast enough," she whispered breathlessly, panting in an attempt to drag the power in faster. It wasn't really working, not with the power she could feel inside of him as well. "Please come closer, just a little bit closer."

((If humans could see her, she probably just looks... well... hungry. And not for food, either. He's created a monster. If I don't wear pants to school but wear underwear, does that count as indecent exposure? *ponders deeply*))
 
Isalien started pulling at the energy now, like he had wanted. She kept getting closer as the energy flowed, which didn't concern Beal because that's probably just what she did. But Beal realized something was different in her demeanor. She was desperately tugging at the power. Beal pushed it out faster, there was still plenty of energy in him from the beasts.

Even as the last pools of the beasts energy rushed from him into Isalien she leaned ever closer. The desire for more power was fierce inside her and Beal thought he could respect this portion of her personality. She was now sucking at the void inside Beal which wouldn't part unless he delved deep into himself, she was trying to get at that little flame inside him. She was practically begging him to come closer. It looked almost as if he was going to come closer, but he only whispered. "No" and pushed her gently. For him it was gently, but to her she would go flying backwards into the water. "That's all you're getting." With that he climbed out of the water and removed the rags that were hanging over his legs that used to be pants. He tossed them aside and shook himself like an animal, sending droplets everywhere. He appeared to have forgotten all about Isalien.

((Access denied. I'm willing to give an inspection to verify decency?))
 
The word "no" briefly registered before he shoved her away. Water went up her nose, and she inhaled once out of shock, but she popped out of the water and coughed it back up, moving to shallower water to make it easier to do so. The source of power had gone and taken the desire for it away from her, too, something she was grateful for. Her hands splayed flat on the surface of the water and she stared at them blankly. She felt warm and energetic, and confident in her capabilities to kill for the time being.

In place of her wounds, she saw, there was nothing but flawless unmarked skin, cleaned of blood and sealed like they had never existed. Fascinating. Was that what life energy could do? Unfortunately she'd had to pester Beal to get it, but at least she had gotten it in the end. Even if there was still power left in him; she didn't blame him for pushing her. She would have done the same. Her eyes flicked up to locate and apologize to him, but all she got was a view of his naked body. Color flew to her cheeks even when she had turned her back to him to block the sight.

"Beal! What--??" she exclaimed, her voice skipping up an octave. "Can't you-- cover yourself, o-or just-- just turn around for a minute, don't face this way! I'll get you some clothes if I have any that will fit you."

Any apology was lost in embarrassment as she shielded her eyes and blindly maneuvered her way out of the water before speed-walking back to the cabin with her hands over her eyes, hiding all but the ground until she knew he was behind her. She peeled off and wrung out her shirt and laid it on the grass to dry before disappearing through the door.

Seconds later, she stuck her hand out the door and tossed out a pair of athletic shorts that looked five sizes too big for her and a massive shirt with an angry stick figure on it that must have been free. A small towel shortly followed.

"Put those on. Have you no modesty?" she called to him from inside. "And don't come in here. I've only got one towel; I threw it out there, so use it."

Rustles from plastic bags echoed around as she dug out a package of beef jerky and chowed on it, still naked and standing there to air-dry.

A question popped into her head and out her mouth before she could stop it. "Were you raised with people?"
 
Beal watched Isalien's flustteredness with a little bit less apathy than normal. He watched her go into the shack, his head turning as he did with the eerieness of an owl. Maybe if he needed to fight her at some point and she managed to gain tremendous amounts of power, he could just take his clothes off and then kill her while she was distracted. This seemed like a good tactic, Beal stored it away for potential use.

He was wiping off some of the blood that hadn't washed away in the water and inspecting the small scratches on his leg while Isalien's voice came whining out of the shack to his ears. Then out came some shorts, a shirt, and a portion of cloth. Beal picked up the shorts and wondered if they would support him well. He pulled the shorts on and found they were inadequate so he cast them off. Staring at the shirt he decided it would do for what he needed and proceeded to rip it apart and fashion something that looked like underwear to keep his dangly bits out of harms way during a fight. He scooped up the shorts along with the fuzzy cloth. "What good will modesty do me?" he talked to her as if she was an idiot "Can it stop arrows or swords?" He stood in the doorway of the shack as she was asking her last question, throwing the shorts and towel in her face.

Raised with people? All Beal could remember was terrorizing civilizations, and confusion, and that he had been created for a purpose. Try as hard as he could he couldn't remember being a child, he felt like there was a memory just out of his reach related to what he wanted and he pushed to reach it but couldn't. Without realizing it Beal had put his hand to his head in his efforts to remember. When he did realize the gesture he made it seem like he was just running a hand over his hair and across his horn. Beal did remember, vaguely, being around people that wanted to control him. It was a memory from the beginning of his consciousness. He had been a hunter, created for tracking and killing all manner of prey. Be it magic, beast, or spirit. One day though Beal became self aware, gaining consciousness of himself and his desires and his real name, he didn't remember much from before that moment. After the people had realized this, they tried destroying him, which they failed at doing.

From what little he remembered before his awakening, Beal decided he had never been a child and was just created the way he was. How or where, he didn't know. But being raised didn't necessarily mean he had been a child. Once again he had been lost to the world in his thoughts, staring into space, and came from his silence and answered her question. "That doesn't concern you" he said with smoldering eyes. Something inside him insisted there was more than he was remembering. Her inquiries were making him question his existence, kicking up a convoluted dust ball of emotions. Most prominent was rage, rage at the fear he felt for potentially not being who he knew himself to be.

((Dude I just had an awesome idea))
 
Something hit her face while her mouth was still open from asking him the question. She dropped the beef jerky and caught the towel before it could hit the ground. Surely he hadn't been raised with people. He was shameless. Isalien clutched the towel to her front, throwing a sulky look at him before picking up the beef jerky and finishing it off. Her stomach still growled.

"From your perspective, clothes could be your disguise so you wouldn't draw attention to yourself until you started killing everything. From my perspective..."

She paused, watching him carefully. For a moment she thought he'd been deep in thought, but apparently he'd just been scratching his head or something. Unless he had just played it off as a head-scratch. Weird. There was nothing wrong with thinking.

"From my perspective, I need clothes to blend in, too, and to protect my skin. And men tend to get strange when you walk around indecent, if you're a girl, but you..." she glanced down at his makeshift underwear, then sighed and rubbed her forehead. "are obviously not a girl. We can find you something more suitable than that, you know... That sad thing won't last long."

After that, she left him to his own devices while she hid under her blankets and changed blindly. A few times, she grunted in frustration, not being able to locate what she needed. Beal spoke after a little while, and she poked her head out to look at him. She didn't know what she felt about his statement. True, his past or future was none of her business. But at the same time, he was so odd and violent and most of all, similar to her, that she was curious about him. Isalien realized he was looking at her, though she couldn't figure out what kind of look it was. Probably angry-annoyed as usual. She sighed and retreated back under the covers to finish dressing.

"You're right, it has nothing to do with me. But it does concern me. You kill things and take their life; I take power and then destroy whatever I want to destroy. I've never known anyone else seemingly meant for nothing more than to kill and destroy. I've met some people that are very good at killing or destroying... but they all had families and hobbies and schools, too."

She crawled out clothed in a shapeless black dress, her face contemplative.

"I suppose I had a family once. But all I remember is the smell of something sweet and warm. After that it's just memories of people telling me this and that about my existence, and sometimes I remember things, tiny things, that I don't remember doing, seeing, smelling, or thinking."

Her arms crossed over her chest stubbornly now, but she refused to look at him. Small hints of fear grew from the anxiety about what he would do or say after her next statement. More than anythings she was afraid he would just ignore it and leave her answerless. Isalien wondered if all the energy she'd consumed had made her this hyper and chatty or if she was just pleased that someone was with her.

"That's why it does concern me. If there is anyone else with the same experiences... I want to know. And you're the only one I've met. I want to know."

Quickly, she shrugged and walked towards the door, stopping to look up at him lightly, as if she hadn't just been talking about something important to her.

"Oh, I need to go to the store. You need clothes, like it or not, so that you'll have them when you go off after destroying the school. You're not an animal or monster meant to walk around naked, just someone... different... that likes to kill things. Also, I need underwear. They took mine and made me wear stupid ones that I hate. Will you put on those shorts and come with me? You don't have to wear a shirt, for now. I'll buy you one there, though."

She blinked. Horns. He had horns. How was she to hide those? Without thinking, she reached up to touch one while thinking of a way to hide them. It wasn't near Halloween, so lying wouldn't work....

((Like whut? Enslave the male oppressors of the world and staple their penises to their foreheads like unicorns? I like that idea~ ))
 
Beal grunted and pulled his head away from her and took a step back. Pride swelled in him and stoked anger at her last words, anything else she had said was forgotten in it's torrent. "Who are you to tell me what I need or who I am?" A rumble thrummed from his throat as he grabbed her by the front of her dress and pushed her against the door frame. Her words had struck a nerve that had only recently been been uncovered, and she had pretty much jabbed at it, even if it was unwittingly. "I abide by no one's rules but my own. I will do what I will for my own reasons and I'll destroy anyone who tries to stop me."

Hot air rushed fro his nostrils and he released the girl and stalked away from the shack. The words were slow to process through his angered haze, only small portions made it's way through to his mind. While he tromped away he made no efforts to soften his footsteps. Already his feet would leave deep footprints in the earth but now they could be felt in the earth as he trudged amongst the trees. He didn't know where he was going, he just went.

After few minute her words started sinking into his mind and eventually his thumping footsteps ceased and he simply stood in the wood. So she felt alone and was reaching out to the closest thing she could relate to; him. Beal grimaced at the concept, it was funny in an ironic way. Why should it concern him? Why should he care? Because she's the only one who has ever wished for your company. Don't be stupid, she only wants me around as a shield and a forager to get energy that she can't. She just asked to know more about you. It's a lie, she only wants me to provide her with energy and to protect her frail form. Isn't that what a man is supposed to do for a woman? I am not a man. Then what are you? An animal? A monster? I'm a killer. Are you? ....am I? Beal grimaced.

A growl ripped from his throat and his face contorted into a hideous snarl. His arms and his hands blackened and his claws emerged. He lashed out at everything around him, trees were ripped around, branches snapped swiftly off. The ground was torn up from his feet digging into the earth as he slashed and tore and knocked down several trees around him.

((Uh wut? No that's not what I was thinking of...))
 
It wasn't Beal's anger or violence that had frightened her. Sure, she had automatically readied herself to let loose an explosion, but that was instinct. An instinct she had managed to override, thankfully. No, what she feared was that in becoming too comfy with someone unpredictable she had really set herself up for emotional hazards and affected someone else with her carelessness born of premature... premature what? Hope? Friendliness? Not that she hadn't seen that coming from five miles back, because she had. She knew that she was desperate for something or someone to place hope in, and she knew that she became too comfortable too quickly with strangers, mostly within the confines of her barrier. In the end, she knew the outcome would be similar to this, and she feared that he had left for good when he marched away fuming. But how could she hate Beal, or even dislike him when he had proven that he could control himself for the most part and had even gone beyond that to feed her the energy she hadn't the capabilities to take? There was no way she could hate him. It wasn't his fault, entirely, that he was volatile. But it wasn't her own fault, either.

Isalien looked down at her feet. She had yet to move, and sighed when she saw her knees shaking. Always a scared rabbit, even when the fear wasn't of her own bodily harm. Emotional fear was worse, anyways. You could kill an enemy, find the exact point of pain, and eliminate anything that could cause more pain. But with her emotions, she could only tremble and stay confused. Killing an emotion was impossible, almost.

A racket from somewhere off in the forest jolted her, bringing her back to the present. If she hadn't known any better she would have assumed someone was chopping down the trees and going at them with weed wackers. But after seeing how angry Beal was and how unlikely the whole weedwacker situation was, she decided it was probably Beal having a fit.

At least he was still there inside the barrier. Isalien shut her eyes briefly, quieting her mind enough to decide on her next actions. Beal still needed clothes; he might not want them, but she wanted to give him something to keep when he had gone, for helping her and refraining from murdering her in her sleep. And if he didn't want them, she would probably wear them herself. She also needed underwear. And shoes. They had taken her shoes and given her sandals, which were lost at some point.

Isalien took a deep breath and left her home. She started to walk in the direction of the chaotic ruckus, but she decided against it. It was better to leave him alone for a few hours. She could smell her own fear now. He probably wouldn't even be here when she got back. But he was right. It was his own life and she shouldn't tell him what to do. Especially since she hadn't known him for a day yet. That was a heck of a lot more time than she spent with anyone else, though.

"Beal, I'll be back in a few hours! I'm sorry!" she shouted, wondering if he could even hear her. Probably not; not with all the noise he was making. "Just don't leave, okay? Please don't leave." Had she just sniffled? No way. She did not need to sniffle over something she knew would happen. It made her angry, even though he probably couldn't hear her to make fun of her silently for sniffling. "And I can tell you whatever I want to tell you! It shouldn't matter to you anyways, what I say or tell you! So I'll tell you again that you need to wear clothes because you aren't an animal or monster or some heartless thing that kills everyone, even if you let yourself act like one! So there! Idiot!"

With her emotional rant done with, she wiped her eyes roughly on her sleeve and stormed off through the barrier towards the convenience store less than an hour's walk away. It would give her time to think. And she had no lack of power; she could protect herself. Besides, it was almost daylight. The beasts would be gone to bed by now probably.

Ten minutes into her walk, Isalien heard a howl. If she hadn't been angry and sad, she would have stopped to look around. But as it were, she kept walking, her hands fisted and ready to kill whatever tried to harm her. She might actually enjoy it, too, and refuse to feel any fear as well, she thought rebelliously against some invisible force.

((Oh... What was your idea, then?))
 
Beal was having an identity crisis, and didn't want to admit it to himself. If he wasn't who he thought he was then he'd have to find out all over again. Who he was now was so simple and easy. Kill, destroy, consume. He needed no one, everyone feared him and he fed on that fear. Too powerful to stop.

Beal's fists tore through the trunks like a sledgehammer through drywall. Trees had been felled, the bark stuck to the sap on Beal's skin and chunks of the trees littered the area. He did hear her and her insolence only aggravated him again. Another tree broke apart as his shin collided with it. All the birds and small creatures had fled the area as soon as he destroyed the first tree and the insects even avoided the anger boiling off him. He had heard the howl too but he didn't stop destroying the trees to listen.


Several minutes passed and all the nearby trees had been leveled or made holey. Beal's body was sticky with tree sap and now he was covered in all kinds of leaves and twigs in addition to the bark. He looked at his fists, he hadn't even made them turn black so his knuckles were slightly red. Grunting he turned around and walked out of the woods back toward the shack. Isalien had indeed left and the clothes were lying on the ground where they had landed. Glancing at his self made clothing he snorted with satisfaction as it was still intact, as if the clothes on the ground could understand it's meaning. Then he proceeded to tear the clothes apart in spite and left the the scraps in a pile. Satisfied with his massacre he walked toward the barrier and stared out of it. He should leave....nothing could stop him from doing what he wanted....

((Ah maybe throwing Beal into the Many Shades of Reality. :P))
 
They were hard things to track. No power to sense, and few noises despite their large size. Unless they wanted to be heard. It also meant there was no way to know how many of them were out there. But the howls were beginning to overlap; she estimated more than five. Many more. Most of them only howled as leaders, giving orders to their younger friends who silently obeyed.

Panic was far away, but fear threatened to come closer. For now, though, Isalien was still angry and drunk from that anger as well as the decent amount of power in her reserves. Seeds of doubt had been planted concerning the newness of the power. It didn't entirely feel like power... After all, power had never healed her or energized her like this. Could she expel it as she did power? Or would it just... flop?

The first pair of eyes flashed and disappeared, the second shortly following, far ahead in the underbrush. She didn't understand how they were so quiet, or how they managed to not get stuck in the bushes as they moved through them. Isalien looked up at the sky. It was still dark. That wasn't a good sign. It would only take minutes for the battle to finish, and that was not short enough a time for the sun to appear and chase them back to their dark home. Unless she could hold them off that long. Either way, she was beginning to realize that the energy she had consumed was different from the power she normally consumed. Wasn't it?

She was so caught up in her thoughts that she didn't hear the first beast approach her until it was feet behind her. Isalien spun, but the thing only grinned at her, not even growling. Another approached her, again from behind. It was too late to come up with a plan to stall them. Might as well put up a fight before more of them approached. She would have more of chance if she could attack them one at a time. Reaching deep into her reserves, Isalien inhaled and began her fight. The stench of fear filled her head, but she ignored it. She couldn't afford for that fear to multiply. Not in this situation, yellow eyes all around her now. Why had she left so impulsively?

Her hand was shaking as it raised, and both the beasts closest to her snarled, sensing the struggle to come.

Isalien didn't waste any more time. She slashed her hands through the air, once behind her and once in front of her like she was holding a whip in each. To her eyes, she was. Thick ropes of power were attached to her hands, five thinner strands from her fingers connecting into one that moved with her will as well as her hands. The closest mutants tried to yelp, but the noises were only emitted as gurgles where their throats had been cut by the sharp, burning energy.

Like a dam bursting, more wolves leapt forward, each one meeting the same fate until the blood of ten wolves had splattered the ground. It took them a while to bleed out, and in the mean time they attempted to take Isalien to the ground, jumping at her and snapping at her legs. For the wounded beasts, she was too quick for the most part, only getting caught around the ankle by one wolf. It helped that she zapped them all in the eyes with stray energy when they tried to attack her after she had slit their throats. The ones that had caught her ankle --why did they seem fond of attacking ankles?-- earned a hiss of pain from Isalien, but she grabbed it by the fur on top of its head and basically blew up the top of its skull. She kicked it away and continued fighting off attacks from all sides.

How many were there? She had estimated, in the beginning, much more than five. But now she had fought ten, and yellow orbs danced all around her, making her dizzy. There was no way to count them when they were all circling her like vultures.

Her distraction and rising fear resulted in a pair of jaws snapping at her forearm. The teeth missed the delicate skin and vital artery in her forearm, but her ears caught the sickening crunch of small bones breaking under pressure. Seconds later the pain radiated from her hand, still caught in the mouth of one beast, all the way up her arm. It was a two-sided pain, fiery on top of a crushing, throbbing pain. But she got revenge, setting loose a burst of energy inside of its mouth. There was no flying brain-mush, but she heard the sound of the pulverized organ, and the soupy leftovers did drip out its nose. Unfortunately its jaws stayed locked around her small hand even as it sank to the ground, dragging the fangs through her hand until they had nothing left to hold on to, each tooth slipping either off one of her fingers or off the short webbing between her fingers.

Eleven. One had jumped onto her back as she bent down trying to lessen the damage to her hand as the other mutated wolf fell, so there was no time to refocus her vision after the pain. She reached behind her, touching both hands to the belly of the wolf. Those two wounds was the goriest yet, spilling blood and innards over her back before she leaned backward and dumped the dying wolf onto the ground. Briefly she felt the harsh sting of deep scratches on her back, the cool air on her skin reaching her through the rips in her clothes.

Twelve. And there were still more, going around and around, coming at her one at a time, probably waiting until she ran out of power. She felt it wouldn't be long now until that happened. Isalien gritted her teeth, wiped sweat off her forehead, and stood there contemplating her next action.

The beasts just stared at her, somewhat curious at how suddenly the girl had stopped to observe the trees above her. They figured out her plan collectively as soon as she sent power flying at the bases of five trees in the area, and it startled them. They scattered, forgetting their mission in their panic.

Exactly what she had known would happen. Isalien took off back towards the barrier. She had mosied along for about ten minutes on the way out, so running... running would take significantly less time considering she was fast. But she also hurt... There was no use worrying yet. Two yelps came from behind her after the thunderous sound of trees smashing into the earth had echoed around the forest.

Less than thirty seconds later, the wolves had caught up to her. She looked behind her but only saw a multitude of shadows and little yellow spots chasing her. She had figured out that she could manage to use the energy as power, but it was reckless. It was still new. And to her dismay, it began to heal her as she ran, though she would have rather used the energy for attacks. Healing hurt almost as much as being wounded in the first place, especially in her hand. But her ankle was the troublesome part; Isalien tumbled to the ground, shocked from the pain of running while her ankle repaired itself.

Almost immediately, crushing weight fell on top of her, and teeth sank into any part of her that stuck out while she was curled into the fetal position. Shoulder, upper arm, waist, hips. One even tried to bite her head, but its jaws wouldn't open wide enough.

She peeked at them all, all at once right on top of each other and crowded around her, and only one saw the gleam in her eyes of fear, anger, and excitement. It wondered briefly why she was excited. Isalien sucked in a breath, dug deep into her reserves. If her reserves had been a well, she would had dug through the bottom of it to gather every ounce of energy or power left inside.

Then she let it explode out of her being like a bomb. Even for eyes that couldn't see power, there was a light that flashed briefly, illuminating the flying bodies that landed around her loudly. Most of them were still after that.

Standing cautiously, Isalien counted them. Eight. The ones closest to her had their fur, skin, and the outmost layers of fat and muscle burned completely off. The ones that had been crowded around her were raw and bleeding, stunned but most of them still breathing. Well she wasn't going to stand around and gloat at them; she was so pumped with adrenaline that she ignored the pain until she had ducked under the water of the creek outside the barrier and then entered safety. She collapsed blindly onto the cool grass, panting rapidly, only thinking of how close she had come to being dead.

And still there were howls in the distance. But they were different from the howls of the hunt. She had killed more of their brethren. Isalien growled. Just how many of those things could live in one forest not far from human life without being discovered?

Slowly her mind began to work again. She assumed Beal was gone after the hissy fit he had thrown. Not surprising. But still disappointing. At least she was still alive, though she had no idea if she was still wounded or if she had been mostly healed.


((Hm. How?))
 
The sounds of howling hen hwere many. For a brief moment Beal considered leaving the barrier to destroy the beasts before they could find Isalien. Then he washed the thought away with another swell of anger but remained standing at the barrier. He could feel the commotion of energy at the edge of his senses, the energy that was being used now had a certain tint to it, which allowed him to identify it as Isalien. So they had found her Good he thought maybe they'll finish her off for me.


Beal turned and started walking away from the barrier, preparing his indifference, when the cluster of lives and the beacon of energy started getting closer. He watched as they got closer without turning, he could see some of the lives fading away and the pain from the wounds that Isalien aggravated as she ran, yet they were healing from the energy even as she did so. Isalien fell and suddenly her energy was crowded with those of the wolves. Beal turned around and walked toward the scene. As he approached to observe with his eyes there was a swell and then flash of energy. It seared his sensitive eyes briefly and he grunted as his eyes readjusted to the darkness of the night. Before his eyes readjusted to the night's darkness he could tell Isalien had dragged herself onto the grass.

She was panting and covered with blood and sweat and a little bit of fur and twigs stuck to her dress. Beal stood over her and stared down with a stony face.

((Not sure, he could be someone the people are trying to save, he'd be different, less killer maybe. Or I could probably use a different character but none come immediately to mind that would fit so well. I'm a little tired right now so my brain isn't working as good as it could be.))
 
Isalien laid there on her stomach for a long time with her eyes shut, fighting off sleep. She was annoyed. Again, she had run out of energy, and with Beal gone, she would have to go back out and find it herself. But the wolves were still out there, and she was so tired... When she finally opened her eyes, a pair of feet blocked her vision. She flew to her feet and seconds later landed on her butt, staring at Beal like he was some sort of ghost. He was covered in flakes of wood. Later she would remind herself to be annoyed with him, but she was too relieved to see him to be annoyed just yet.

He stared at her the same way he would stare at boring dirt, but it didn't particularly affect her. He was still there. But that was no reason to get excited. Don't get too happy, he was probably about to leave. The tiny grin that had snuck onto her face disappeared, along with the light in her eyes. No reason to expect anything out of him aside from not killing her. She trusted him that much, at least.

With a grimace, Isalien wobbled to her feet and brushed past Beal to wade into the water yet again. She hadn't been clean for an hour and yet she was already completely covered with blood from head to toe. She wasn't sure how much of it was her own. A piece of intestine that had been stuck in her hair fell out when she fluffed it, and she picked up the piece and hurled it at Beal with surprising gusto. It landed near his feet with a squish.

"I got that for you. I figured you would like it better than clothes anyways. You're welcome."

She sucked in a breath and submerged herself, staying under for a while to rub the blood out of her hair and off her face. It gave her enough time to wipe random teardrops off her face. She wasn't entirely sure where they had come from, but she usually never knew that anyways. Isalien guessed that she was upset over being so happy that Beal was still there combined with the sadness that he was probably about to leave.

((Hm. Help how? Would he be a Shadow? I'm not a my posting-best right now. No one can be creative 24/7, especially when it comes to creating characters.))
 
Once again she was out of energy, which would mean she would probably want him to get her some more power. Which really wasn't all that much of a hassle if he got killing out of it, a squish by his feet distracted him and he looked down at the piece of intestine. She was mocking him. He wasn't amused. Gah she was so helpless.

The prospect of battle, though, distracted him from Isalien's weakness. There were many of those shaggy beasts out there, definitely more than three. Maybe this time after he got her power again they would go to the school and finally destroy it. You mean like a team? Shut up. He got closer to the barrier and peered out at the beasts. Oh, it seemed there were a few out there that were slow and wounded, not a real challenge but they would help me get the power faster.

His knees bent and his legs flexed and soon he was sailing through the air. Already he head picked out one that was making it's way back to wherever it had come from. Before the beast knew what was happening, Beal's deceptively heavy body smashed down on it and his claws were deep inside the fur and flesh. The wolf thing didn't even have the chance to get a whimper out before it's innards were too dry to produce sound and it was dead. The energy from the life force again swirled around his body, the stuff really seemed potent, he made a note to closely examine the next body he reaped. Looking around he swept the surrounding forest with several of his senses and could detect there were several wolves who's attention he had caught, a few of them were wounded but it appeared some scouts had been sent. Nine of them, five wounded and four scouts. It appeared the deaths of their comrades was getting to them.

A beast was approaching, a fresh scout. Beal crouched briefly he launched himself straight into the air. The wolf quickly approached it's fallen brother and sniffed around, only getting getting a scent that made it think of coldness. As the beast tilted it's head back and began to howl, Beal came back down and smashed into the beast and again stabbed his hands into it's body and drained the life from it. This time the beast had managed to alert the other beasts, and abrupt end of the howl made them come running. Not just the ones that had been close by, but some of the wolves farther away started coming as well. Two down....


((Help, like, keep him from fully becoming a murderous beast-man demon looking thing, or something. Shadows are the freaks that work there right? He might be one of them, perhaps an extremely taboo experiment one of the higher ups was doing with their pupil where they combine a person with controlled Darkness or something and he's a faulty hybrid prone to bouts of violence and conflicting personality, clinging onto his humanity. Something like that; Isalien is getting sassy :P))
 
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