What Lurks in Shadow

Draven Winterling

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Draven crept soundlessly down the alleyway, heading nowhere in particular. His only reason for being in such a place was that the area seemed to suit him and if anything, it was an excuse to get away from his so called responsibilities.

His eyes turned steely and cold as he walked, the venom in his blood slithering toward potency again. Ever since he'd thrown caution to the wind and given up his will to the venom, he'd found that it could take control more and more, whether he was hunting or not. He, however, no longer seemed to care what he was or wasn't anymore. Striving to be a good person in a cruel world had only proven to offer misery.

The echo of footsteps drifted through the alleyway, ringing sharply in Draven's heightened hearing and he glanced up quickly, his eyes fierce and foreboding.
 
Morgase had decided to take a break from taking care of Erik. Leaving him with a trusted friend she took some polyjuice potion and had apparated to Bleak Street. As she made her way down the alley she noticed there was a familiar looking boy standing not far from her. With a smirk on her face she walked toward him, deciding to strike up a conversation while disguised.

"Hi there," she began silkily. "What brings you to the alley?" As she slunk up to him her form was suddenly illuminated by a stray ray of light. She smirked at the boy, batting her eyelashes at him.


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((Draven is not a boy. He's in his late twenties.))

Draven eyed the woman who'd approached him, his steely blue eyes unusually bright in the dim lighting. Something about her seemed uncannily familiar but he wasn't in the mood to mess around with his Sight in order to figure out why.

"What do you want?" He asked impassively, returning her smile with his own wolfish grin. Ever since he'd given in to the Venom he'd been acting more and more like Ravus, picking up his tendencies so much that it was difficult to tell the difference between the two.
 
[I was not trying to refer to him as a child, merely a member of the male persuasion who is younger than herself.]

"I would say it is fairly obvious," Morgase said sulkily as she took a few slow steps toward him, letting her words linger. "I want to know what brings you to this alley." She smirked devilishly at him, eyeing his face. Morgase found herself almost entranced by his gorgeous blue eyes.
 
"Some would call it taking a walk," Draven said coolly, brushing past her and stepping further into the shadows. Thanks to his father, he'd never been a real big fan of eye contact and the very idea of being scrutinized was agony. So he preferred the shadows over solid light.

"I suppose others would call it running as well, since I'm here in the hopes of avoiding people." He added.
 
Morgase kept her eyes locked on the male as he moved, staring fiercely at him. "Well, I can leave if you want. But I am a firm believer in misery loving company. I know I would much enjoy your company, but I do not wish to impose upon you."
 
Draven stared at her and shook his head, chuckling coldly under his breath. "I am not good company to have but whether you stay or go is your choice. However much my brother might think it so, the Winterlings do not own the night."
 
"Winterling you say? Interesting name." Morgase smirked from where she stood, not wanting to make him uncomfortable by moving any closer. "You look oddly familiar," she said, eyeing him with her blue eyes. Morgase found it amusing to be able to parade around as someone else for a while.
 
"So it would seem," Draven said stolidly, grinning with a cold impassiveness, "I have a twin. Chances are, if you've met one of us, you've met him."
 
Morgase cocked her head slightly to one side, smirking. "If you say so. But I do not know where I would have met either of you."
 
"I wouldn't think about it too much. You'd have been better of not knowing us at all," Draven said darkly, leaning against the alley wall. "We have a nasty habit of killing those who get too close and an even worse habit of doing away with as many random people as we can in one night."
 
"Sounds needlessly vicious," Morgase said, still smirking. "Why do you kill everyone? Is there a reason, or is it just out of habit?"
 
For a minute Draven was silent, thinking carefully. "It didn't used to be this way," He said finally, running a hand through his hair, "at least not for me."

He shrugged, as if the conversation were a mere causal matter. "Ravus has always been like this. It used to disgust me but I could never really blame him considering...

"Now I'm no better. I suppose I could blame it on what I am but that'd be a lie. I fought it before, restricted myself to be as normal as possible, and I know it can be done, so I guess I have no excuse other than not really caring. If the world is nothing but pain in the end, why not end it sooner for those who can die so easily?"
 
"Seems like a rather cynical way of thinking. What if not everyone is as disappointed with their lives as you are?" Morgase paused for a moment but decided she did not really want to hear his answer to the question. In fact, she was not entirely sure why she asked it.

"So, what exactly are you then? You look fairly human to me."
 
"See for yourself, if you don't believe me." Draven said stolidly, pulling back his coat sleeve to expose his wrist. Though he was in complete control now, his veins were still blackened with lingering traces of venom and they writhed slightly like tiny snakes beneath his skin.

"Let's just say that I'm not exactly mortal anymore." He explained, his face draining of all emotion. "Can't get sick. Senses are heightened far beyond normal. I can take enough lethal blows for a normal person to die several times over, and walk away."

He shrugged as if the whole conversation was nothing more than casual chitchat. "It's definitely not something I would recommend, however, what I became. As with everything, there's a price to pay for it all. I only accepted it all when I'd lost everything else..."
 

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