Cure For The Itch [Open]

[Rosalie Howard]

She's a r e b e l
She's a s a i n t
She's salt of the e a r t h
And she's d a n g e r o u s

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Rosalie hovered near the edge of the rooftops, staring down at the dark street below. Waiting was such a tedious game. Time drips past at the speed of a tortoise, because it knows you are waiting.

A light breeze whipped through her loose blonde hair, causing her to tut loudly as she pushed it our of her face. Being a flawless killer was no where near as easy as they made it look in the films. Heels weren't that easy to walk it and skin tight leather pants were so unbelievably restricting. Not to mention always getting long hair in your face, or stuck in your lipgloss.

Rosalie tugged a hair band off her wrist and so quickly that if you blinked you'd miss it tied her hair into a high pony tale.
She had opted for boots for her hunt tonight, rather then the strappy heels many of her kind clip clopped around in. Although they did have small heels on, she couldn't resist.

She shifted closer to the edge, her eyes closed, listening intently to the sounds of the night. She needed to kill, she needed the rush of the hunt. Rosalie was a cold blooded killer. She felt no pity, no saddness for those she killed. They were her food and that is all they would ever be.

With the exception of one human, her brother. He was still hanging on, dangling by a thread suspended somewhere between life a death. His fragile mind was almost a decade in the past, he'd never quite woken up from the war. Always screaming about the bombs, screaming at their dead father to get his gas mask on.

Rosalie had visited him that day, well evening. Sat by his bed side and read to him, read the letters their mother sent him while he was fighting. It made him calm, her voice combined with their mother words, it lulled him into a peaceful sleep which Rosalie often hoped he wouldn't wake up from. He deserved to move on, to where ever it was people went after life. He of all people deserved a break, a release. He'd done enough in this world.

She sighed loudly, taking a step back away from the edge. There was no way she could hunt properly tonight, her mind was all over the place. She needed to eat, she wanted to eat, but her brother kept drifting into her mind.

Rosalie wasn't really a sentimental person, as many would have you believe. She just had a very good memory, which isn't really uncommon in her kind. But what was uncommon was the clear memories she had of her mortal life. Most immortals lose that after a few years. Rosalie's reasoning was that part of her mortal life was still with her reminding her everyday.

Dipping her hand into her pocket she pulled out her mobile and quickly dialed Jake's number. She wasn't expecting a answer, he was usually hunting, or arguing with someone.

"Jake, babe, i'm hunting, could use some company, come find me" her tone was lightly inviting, although she knew as soon as he heard it he would click that she was distracted and hoping that his company could focus her mind on the hunt.

She sighed again and moved into the middle of the rooftop where she flopped down and laid on her back staring up at the clear nights sky.[/blockquote][/blockquote][/size]

[size=0][blockquote][blockquote][right][IMG]http://i67.photobucket.com/albums/h294/kinkjuice/new%20icons/lj3198.png[/IMG] [IMG]http://i67.photobucket.com/albums/h294/kinkjuice/new%20icons/lj3199.png[/IMG]
[size=1]She's a [color=FF3300]r e b e l[/color]
She's a [color=Firebrickred]s a i n t[/color]
She's salt of the [color=Darkfirebrickred]e a r t h[/color]
And she's [b][u][color=Red]d a n g e r o u s[/u][/b][/color][/size][/right]