_sabretooth_ (_sabretooth_) wrote in parabolical, @ 2008-07-30 07:48:00 |
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Current music: | Motely Crue : Dr. Feelgood |
Who: Sabretooth aka Victor Creed (Open)
Where: Strolling down the street near the Hyperion Hotel
Why: Leavin’ a calling card for Logan
When: After dark
Status: In progress
Rating: NC-17
Just a quick note. Victor has no loyalty to anyone but himself. He’s after Logan and anything in his way is fair game. Vic’s got the same healing factor as the runt, so he won’t go down easy. Proceed with caution or run like hell, either way it’s your funeral. He doesn’t keep his inner beast on a chain like the whimperin’ pup ya’ll are use to.
Been a long damn time since Creed and the man called Wolverine crossed paths. Too damn long if ya asked him. Few to many birthdays had passed without their annual meet and greet. Victor missed the squirrely son of a bitch. Always put up such a fight before whimperin’ off ta his corner.
There ain’t nothin’ more entertainin’ then poking a Wolverine with a stick. Angry little things too. When they come unglued they are vicious. Sabretooth was countin’ on it.
In one clawed hand he held an apple. Big, juicy softball sized thing, couple bites already taken out of it. In the other was a Polaroid picture that he was shaking back and forth as his hulking legs powered him down the street. As the minutes passed and the picture came into focus his apple grew smaller and smaller. A deep, dark chuckle rumbled in his massive chest when the lifeless blue eyes appeared on the piece of film. Stopping on the street corner he admired his handy work. All you could see in the photograph he had taken was her big, blue eyes splattered with blood. Big piece of tape slapped over her mouth had a message for Logan. Been too damn long, Runt.
Consider this the stick. Well, the first of many. Now it was time ta go give ‘im a good sharp jab in the ribs.
With the apple clenched in his fanged smile Victor tucked the picture into the envelope. His stride continued as he made his way closer and closer to the Hyperion Hotel. Had it on good authority that was where the boy was hangin’ out these days. Shame too, he’d love ta get his claws on the Weather Witch. The information was confirmed as he got closer. Ain’t gonna get much business with their place smellin’ ta high hell of wet Wolverine, Victor thought as the building came into sight and the stench of Logan hit his overpowered senses.
The last bite of his apple was taken and the core got tossed over his shoulder, hitting the concrete with a splat. Rolling his tongue over a single fang he grinned, it was a wild, untamed smirk of a man with no conscious.