Monsters in the Moonlight [Seasonal Event]

{this takes place right after her resurrection, before she finds clothes ;)} Her feet seem to be on auto-pilot as the naked newly re-Ascended woman trots quickly through the snow covered  settlement under the protection of moonless night. An alabaster, muscular figure flits quickly between the buildings, leaving only footprints in her wake. It was obvious she’d been dead at least a couple of weeks - long enough for the seasons to change and snow to fall, but other than that, she can’t determine an exact length. Sometimes the snows come early, sometimes they come late… Clouds shield the moon, so it’s just useless to even try to calculate the cycle, she’ll have to find someone and ask. Alas, with the falling temperatures, no one is out and about. Except, perhaps monsters and those miscreants who are up to no good. She leaves the settlement behind and heads for the Glade on the way to the Woods, intending to bypass some of the typically heavier snowfall in the Fields. A light melody enters her head and she rather unconsciously begins to hum the tune as she continues to travel through the bare area (is that still a bit of gourd shell from their massacre on the ground?), without a seeming care in the world. Everything seems just a little bit darker now; Wessex finds she doesn’t mind this season change at all anymore. WESSEX She whispered back, I am the storm

For @Ru'in  and any!
Uhhh Odd for wonky character tag reasons

Ru'in was often in the glade, as it turned out, not that he'd let anyone know. It was close enough to the Woodlands—and thus the small cabin that he'd built for himself—that the trek wasn't too arduous even in the snow. Then again given his bulky frame and ability to turn into a lumbering pachyderm the snow didn't much bother him anyways. So why was the monstrous man here? The man who thought that the bubble was literally hell (for he did remembering dying, along with the rest of them)? The glow stones. They reminded the monster of a time when he could create. When understanding the world seemed like a worthwhile venture and use of his time. And, because they were stone, the man's clumsy and awkward fingers could not break or shatter them as he did with so many other things. With so many other people. Content to simply sit and stare at them as the snow fell silently around him, Ru'in's respite from Hell was rudely interrupted by the sound of hummming. It grated against him the way silk might catch against particularly rough sand paper and immediately a scowl appeared on his monstrous face. Lamenting the days when if he sat very still he could turn to stone, Ru'in instead glared into the darkness wondering what fresh demon was coming to bother him today. ru'in And I don't want to see another night Lost inside a lonely life while I'm here.

A fresh demon. Literally. How apt! She doesn’t know she’s doing it; in the way that they can mimic breathing, can eat and then… shit it out again?... can be “normal,” she can also be absent-minded. Apparently. Maybe it’s a little bit of brain fog? A little bit of revelry in the fresh air, being naked as the day she was born and not feeling cold, or the miracle of a second life? Regardless, she is both remarkably cheerful and remarkably nude, and though that’s not the first time the two have happened at the same time, it is, well, remarkable that it is happening now. For multiple reasons. She probably would have walked right through the Glade, nodding to the glow stones as she walks on by - but the hulk of a man sitting and staring at them as if they might get up and perform is… unusual. Wessex stops rather abruptly, which causes her humming to stop too, but she doesn’t make any move to talk or approach - just stands there, white as fuck against the darkness, watching Ru'in watch the rocks. This should be... interesting. WESSEX She whispered back, I am the storm

A naked woman? After all this time, that was what demonic sort of curse he was going to tackle this night? With a snarl on his lips, Ru’in smirked at Wessex. “Narrr.” He grunted, shaking his head dismissively. The monster’s unique brand of sexual repression was quite hostile, and rather than feeling or desiring anything at all for Wessex, where warmth and hardness should have been, Ru’in only felt the cold pit of rejection and death. “Go. Not in the moohd.” He added, heavy brows furrowed together. His words were guttural and ill-formed, but a spectar of the night did not deserve his attempts at well-articulated words. It—she—didn’t deserve anything. Picking up one of the glow stones in one of his monsterous hands, he threw it directly at her chest. He expected that it would simply cause her to ghost away, or, whatever demon was toying with him might get the message and leave him be for one night. ru'in And I don't want to see another night Lost inside a lonely life while I'm here.

Wessex probably would have kept right on walking if @"Ru’in” hadn’t lobbed a glow stone at her chest. Really, she would have just left the ugly, monstrous man alone. But no, he had to be petulant - provocative - whatever you want to call it. Especially because sex is the last thing on her mind. Her brow furrows and she kind of just stares at the rock as it hits her bare breast and bounces off, falling to the ground. Really? What, he thinks she’s in the mood to deal with him and his male repressed sexuality bullshit? Amongst the glow stones, no less? A grumble starts deep within her, surfacing as a low, guttural growl and bared fangs. Her fingers begin to twitch, itching for a weapon of some sort - but no, she’s got nothing on her but her own skin. Keeping two eyes firmly on the Outlander, she picks up the thrown stone and places it gingerly back next to one of its peers. Wessex likes to think they prefer each other’s company. WESSEX She whispered back, I am the storm

Aaaaand welcome to shitty postland.

She is trim and toned and though her breasts give a light wobble, nothing else on her moves until she chooses. But the monster's eyes are not on her womanly figure, but instead her face, and his gaze is not one of shuddered-in sexual longing and awkwardness, but a fierce hatred and limitless annoyance at this world and all that are in it. The monster watches as the apparition-made-flesh nestles the stone back where it came from. A deep frown creases his large lips and he glares through the darkness. The only thing worse than an annoyingly sexual demon come to plague him when he only wants to be alone with his thoughts, is one who seems to want to pick away at his patience with a silent stare of her own. "Not in the MOOHD!" The man roars, suddenly thrusting himself to his feet. He towers above her, but he is sure that a demon won't be intimidated. But that's fine. He isn't here to intimidate. He's here to force her to leave, even if that means playing her stupid game. With a loud grunt, Ru'in moves to punch the woman squarely in her jaw. If this is some sort of concentration-apparition, perhaps a blow to her head will force her back into whatever temporal hiding place she came from. ru'in And I don't want to see another night Lost inside a lonely life while I'm here.

Oh New Gods, if Wessex could hear his accusations of sexuality, she would probably topple over in laughter. She’s just naked, no need to get worked up about it. Trust me, she doesn’t even remotely want his dick. Even if she did, the demon wouldn’t be able to feel it. Who wants to be a succubus if they can’t even get off? Lame. And Wessex isn’t lame. It isn’t really until the hulk of a man moves to punch her that the Ascendant does anything notable other than watch him with a mildly amused-slash-disdainfully curious expression. A deep roar erupts from somewhere within his barrel-wide chest, he leaps to his feet, and all of a sudden Wessex is on high alert - she answers his cry with a roar of her own, letting her monster meet his. It's meant to be gutteral, but somehow words form and she finds herself yelling back, "Not HERE!" Not in the Glade. Not by the Stones. But of course, that isn't terribly cleary. Yelling rarely is. There’s strength in him, but not a lot of speed; he might be able to knock her senseless if something lands, but she doesn’t plan on sticking around long enough to let that happen. Wessex ducks under his flying fist, takes a couple of steps to the left, and then pops back up again. Her hands instinvively grasp for weapons that aren’t there, and when she finds that they aren’t, her fists clench in both annoyance anger. Shwiiiiiing Wessex can feel something different happened. Parts of her slide open, as if triggered by something - and it’s a very weird feeling, though not painful. Rather than looking down and splitting her attention between this new thing and the swinging, petulant child, she brings her hands up - and is more than surprised to find that metal blades precede her knuckles. Rather… long metal blades. Huh. Well that's new. WESSEX She whispered back, I am the storm

Odd