[centre]// - K e e n a n
[Rip it out, Tear it down][/centre]

The girl in front of him danced over, purring in a voice of silk from between her soft rose lips. Keenan still felt edgy after having sex with the whore, Arcanzite still racing through his system. The voices hadn’t yet broken through the high of the drug, but they ran their fingers along his skin, probing him, begging him to listen. Snarling, he turned his attention back to the girl. Holy shit she was pretty. And dressed in nothing more than a few scraps of clothing, hair spilling over her shoulders; hips swaying gently as she moved. Keenan knew he had to bed this woman, whether it be in this alley, pressing her up against the wall, or back in his bed. Delicate hands framed his face, brushing over his lower lip. The girls hands gently traced down his neck, shuddering in anticipation, Keenan allowed his own hands to roam over her back, gently brushing the sides of her breasts as he moved.

Groaning with need, the feeling of her skin beneath his hands was unlike anything he had ever felt before. Leaning in to brush his lips against her mouth, trailing them along her jaw and down her neck in soft, teasing kisses. The girl arched into him, smiling with greed, Keenan called upon his element of wind, to gently blow the strands of hair from her face. Hands circling her waist, the boy went to hoist her off the ground, to lean her back against the wall, fingers brushing hungrily along the insides of her thighs. 
The emergence door he had just come from burst open with force, bursting outwards, hinges screaming in protest. Lucas stormed out angrily, obviously high off Arcanzite and edgy. Snarling, Keenan loathed Lucas with a cold malicious hatred. Keenan was the youngest, and therefore the one who got the blame for everything. Reisan was ok, at least, but Lucas? Growling, Keenan allowed the girl to gently drop from his grasp, hands retracting from her flesh to ball into fists at his sides. “What the fuck do you want Lucas!?” Words growling towards the startled form before him. 
All of a sudden, Lucas was yelling at him. “Get the fuck off her Keenan!” Before mouthing, “Girl! Tattoos!! I’ll get Reisan!” Confusion darted across Keenan’s face. What the hell did Lucas mean? Turning around to face the girl once more, he looked up and down her body. Inky shapes covered her from head to toe, swirling over her curves in intricate patterns. Silver light speared over them, as the full moon above broke through the clouds. Illuminating the flesh of the girl in front of him, revealing her tattoos for what they really were. It was her. The one who could free him from his curse, the one who could bring an end to the voices who threatened to destroy him, and all he had left. 
Laughter bubbled dark and malicious from his throat. The irony that such a dainty figure held the key to his salvation. Grabbing her wrist, Keenan yanked her towards him, hands hastily mapping her body, brushing over her breasts with a lack of tenderness. Crushing his mouth to hers, a coppery taste met his tongue as he tangled it with hers. This bitch would pay. When he was done with her, she would be on her knees, begging Lucifer to end her life.

[centre]// - R e i s a n 
[I have lived one thousand lies.] [/centre]

Blundering his way through the mass of dancing bodies, Reisan casually made his way back to the small VIP platform where he and his brothers had just spoken to Lucifer. Growling as a whore ran her hands over his body, the boy turned to her, fire licking dangerously just below his skin and smouldering in his eyes with a dangerous glow. Any mortal with half a brain would have felt the urge to flee, to get away from him, but the girl before him was drunk, pissed off her face, and high. The disgusting scent of weed laced her body, breath reeking of alcohol, most probably vodka. 
“Get your fucking hands off me, whore.” Reisan projected his voice towards her, adding all the hate and anger he could to the sound. Blinking up at him, she jumped away, reacting as though she had been zapped. A sadistic smile creased his lips as he smirked at her, before resuming his attempt to get to the lounge. Whisking a glass of vodka from the tray of the same topless waiter as before, Reisan lifted the glass to his lips, taking a mouthful. 
The clear liquid slid down his throat with a familiar burn, igniting his stomach with heat. Placing the glass on the small glass table before him, Reisan realized the one he smashed his fist through earlier had been replaced. Flexing the hand which had been injured, Reisan felt no pain. Glancing down at it, jagged scars replaced the open cuts from before, the brothers all healed with an unnatural quickness. But Reisan was the only one who retained his scars, the only others which adorned his bothers bodies were the deep gouges on their backs from where their wings were ripped out, and from where they had been cut by holy blades. 
Brushing the remaining flakes of dried blood from his skin, the boy looked up as his older brother yelled his name. Throwing his gaze from his hand to the face of his brother, Lucas shouted at him, “Reisan. Keenan has found the girl. She's outside; take her down to the gym. Keep him from trying to do anything stupid with her. I'll get some drugs to knock her out for a while. Go!” 
Confusion, shock and a few other unknown feelings registered at the words. “You had better not be fucking with me Lucas!” Launching out of his chair, Reisan grabbed the glass of vodka. Condensation perspiring to form watery droplets on the outside of the glass, coating his hand with a soothing coolness. Quickly downing the remainder of the clear liquid, Reisan leapt from the VIP platform to land softly on the balls of his feet. One of his hands drifted to the hilt of Everans, the holy sword warmed in his grasp, urging him to unsheathe her, urging him to spill blood on her gleaming surface. 
Reisan snarled warning to people, urging them to move out of the way, those who did not listen to him were thrown aside. Racing through the door Lucas had come from, Reisan unsheathed Everans, preparing to be met with battle. The blade balanced elegantly within his grasp, glinting wickedly in the silver moonlight. Onyx eyes detected the locked forms of Keenan and the girl. Growling, Reisan strode over to the pair, grabbing his younger brother by the shoulder, hurtling him away from the girl before he got his pants down.
“Fucking hell Keenan! Do you have to fuck everything with tits that walks!?” Reisan had no real problem with his younger brother. He liked him a hell of a lot more than Lucas. Over the past thousands of years, Reisan could always count on Keenan’s blade in battle. They had fought side-by-side in nearly every war, unstoppable when their two elements were combined. Reisan felt the fire element within him. Extending his hand, palm towards the ground, he earthed out, draining the overload of fire, watching it melt a small portion of the asphalt near his feet. 
Shards of amber and shades of red flecked in his eyes, a gold rim formed around his pupil, screaming a signal to those around him to watch out or they’d get burnt. Reisan felt feral. Being so close to his brothers for an extended period of time always did this. His orbs flickered to that of the small female form, leaning back against the filthy wall. Striding towards her, Reisan extended his hand to lock around her wrist. “You’re coming with me, Cursed One.” Snarling the words towards her, the boy couldn’t help but feel the fragility of her wrist, the delicate feminie skin, tanned and flecked with a spattering of freckles. It would be so easy to snap her wrist, to kill her in that moment, but she meant too much, she was the key to their curse. 
Not waiting nor caring for her protests, Reisan dragged her behind him, fury radiating out of his pores. Keenan slunk off into the shadows, probably in search of another woman to drown his pity in. Leading her through the labyrinth of corridors and doors, the boy led her into the gym beneath the club. They were deep underground now, the only sources of light radiated from the bright artificial lights, attached to the ceiling. Gym equipment of various uses stood in different parts of the room. Grabbing a conveniently placed coil of chains, Reisan towed the girl behind him, leading her onto the large padded floor space the brothers used to practice fighting on. Reisan sneered at his reflection in the floor to ceiling, wall length mirror which adorned the north facing wall. It was designed to allow those using the area to see themselves, how their position was, to correct it. Although, Reisan already knew he needed no correction in any element of fighting. 
The adjoining west facing wall was lined with a collection of weapons, all standing ready to be used. Over the thousands of years, the brothers had quite a collection of weapons; they had everything from executioners’ axes to small ninja blades. A decent sized support column stood at the start of the large platform. Looking over his shoulder at the girl, Reisan noticed that all she wore was a skimpy bikini. Sighing, he unbuckled Everans, before he drew off his shirt, handing it to her. It would be large on her; his muscular frame filled the shirt, making it emphasize the shape and definition of his muscles; but for the moment it would do. 
Rolling his shoulders, Reisan hoped she could see his scars, hoped she squirmed. A series of large scars adorned his back, but the two angled diagonally inwards, running from his kidney to his shoulder blade were the constant reminders of what he had lost. Turning to face the girl, he noticed she still held his shirt in her hands. “Put it on, before you catch your death.” Chuckling to himself, Reisan replayed his words, she was going to die. And he would make sure of it. 
The boy waited until she had put on his shirt, as he predicted, it hung loosely over her frame, falling to mid-thigh, the sleeves, which he usually wore rolled up, hung past her fingertips. Walking around behind her, Reisan grabbed both her wrists, cuffing them together with a medieval set of handcuffs he found amongst a pile of discarded weapons. Tightening them as much as he could around her slim wrists, making sure she could not slip free. The heavy iron, although aged, was still as strong as the day it had been made, holy runes etched into the sides made it useful to hold demons and mythical creatures of any sort. 
Once the boy had made sure she could not escape the cuffs, he chained her to the support column. Hatred glared towards him from the depths of her smoky violet orbs. Turning his back on her, Reisan bent to pick up Everans, unsheathing her before leaning the sheath against the mirror. Breathing deeply, he concentrated. Calling on his inner peace, Reisan felt the familiar heat of fire lick through him, blazing in his orbs, now completely red, flames dancing in his iris. Fire licked its way along Everans’ blade, singing in delight as he whirled around, practicing his sword work, cutting down hoards of invisible enemies. 
After about an hour or so, Reisan felt he had expelled enough of his element to keep from overloading. Sweat filmed his body, glinting in the soft light created by the flames still dancing along his blades edge. Murmuring his thanks, Reisan reached for the sheath he leaned against the mirror earlier. The soft leather, familiar and worn with centuries of age accepted Everans with pleasure. A sharp sting resounded through Reisan’s hand, making him curse. A large line of blood soon formed across his palm. “Fucking shit. Everans don’t be a bitch.”
Snarling at the weapon, Reisan heard chains rattle. Whirling around, the boy watched as the girl he had just chained to the column, strained against it. When her orbs drifted up to lock with his, Reisan noticed her canines had elongated into fangs. He couldn’t help but laugh when she snapped at him, proving that she was vampire. Holding her gaze, Reisan squeezed his palm, allowing crimson drops to spatter heavily against the blue mat beneath his feet. Holy blades always took longer to heal, so Reisan would have to put up with the pain. 
Striding towards the girl, Reisan lowered his voice, allowing fire to dance in his orbs, “Those little teeth don’t scare the big bad wolf, gorgeous.” Allowing himself to take her in, the boy finally realized something. //Damn she was pretty//. The swirling of her intricate thorn and rose tattoo amazed him. It seemed too beautful, too unnatural to have been penned. So how did she get it? Eyes trailing up her body, following her tattoo, Reisan's eyes came to rest on the ink at her breast. Lips curving in a seductive smile, Reisan had never met a vampire this young before.