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Humans Wereshifters Skinwalkers Fae Dragon Vampire Lilin Witches
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No Word Count // 3-3-3 Rating

Dead Before Daylight is an Alternate Universe Urban Fantasy role play in a world where supernatural creatures and humans exist side by side – at least, some of them do. Creatures like witches, pixies and satyrs live and work as openly as any human. They commonly hold positions of power in government and are afforded every right and protection.

Other creatures are not so lucky. Those believed threats to humankind and other benign creatures are still persecuted and oppressed. Beings like vampires and werewolves are still forced to live largely in hiding, as they are not afforded the protections of law.

Such blacklisted creatures have created a haven for themselves in the small city of Dawnbreak; but their sanctuary is becoming increasingly threatened by the arrival of outsiders. In the meantime a menacing power is lurking in the forests and increasingly beginning to threaten the town as people begin to go missing, and mangled bodies are beginning to be discovered in and around the woodlands.



 Point Blank, TAG: Donnie
Saturday morning was full of sunshine, melting snow and damp earth. Petrichor flavored the air as she drove into the village, window parted to let the tepid breeze wash in and flutter her white hair. It was pleasant, the warmth of the sun through the glass, sweeping up her arm and across her body as she changed direction with a curve in the road. The water of the lake glittered, speckled with a few ships out in the bay and its silvered presence disappeared from view as she entered the streets of the historic area along the shoreline.

The silver Dodge truck pulled into the lot of the sporting store and after a few moments the striking figure of the young woman driving slipped out of the driver's side. She was short enough she had to drop onto the road from her seat, her heeled ankle boots hitting the concrete softly.

Sunlight lit up the lily-white contours of her bare legs, the gently sculpted thighs covered by the hem of a black cocktail dress. Sleeveless and body contouring, it clung to her frame and emphasized the slightness of her, the deep V of its neckline settling between the milky globes of her bust. She adjusted it with a momentarily smoothing of her gloved hands down her hips and then collected her suit jacket from the passengers side. It was slid on fluidly, hair tugged free of the collar and collected to one side of her neck, its snowy length tousled into gentle curls tumbling down her chest.

When this unique customer entered the shop she was plucking off her gloves a finger at a time and tucking them inside the jacket, with only a momentary glance around at the threshold. Vermilion orbs inspected the layout of the shop floor, her black lashes flickering down the aisles until they stopped on her intended target; the rear corner of the store where a number of rifles could be seen hung on the back wall.

Her boots clicked as she cut a deliberate path to the hunting section, coming to the glass display of the firearms counter. Leaning forward from the waist, the albino craned to see the pistols laid out within one cabinet, hair spilling loose from her shoulder to coil against the top of the case. After a moment of silent scrutiny the Asian straightened up, folding her arms underneath her bust and shifting her hips as she adjusted her stance. Her pale throat flashed as she lifted her head, checking the nearby aisles and shelves for a cashier...


"I've seen that look before," Donovan said as he approached. "Now don't go gettin' your panties in a twist. We backwater folk have standards to," he said. "I think you were looking at good ol' Bessy, that right?" he asked as he approached the odd looking woman, toothpick in the side of his mouth to keep him from smoking in the store.


The red eyes settled on him as he approached, their scrutiny sharpening on his features, the toothpick, dipping down to glance at his hip and finally his shoes, then back up to his face. The inspection lasted only a second and when she met his own eyes the smile she gave him did not touch their hue.

"Mmhm," the albino nodded shallowly, turning to face him politely and letting her arms relax by her hips. "I need more stopping power."

That thing on the road had taken an axe to the chest without flinching. Not even a shotgun seemed appropriate...

Thoughts of that howl echoing out through the darkness made a shiver crawl up the base of her spine, her nostrils flaring with a sharp breath. Underneath the tang of gun oil and leather inside the store she caught another familiar scent and breathed it in again. Potently musky with a spice on the time of her tongue that was cool and overpowering...

Another wolf. This town was full of them.

Her eyes narrowed a fraction the lashes shading her irises a deep jasper as she inspected him a second time, now more thoroughly, right down to the strands of hair framing his face and the way his clothing fit, as if anymore clues as to the abundance of lupine shifters could be found hiding in his pockets...


"Stopping power for what? A bull? Bessy's not quite a woman's weapon... let alone one like you," whether he meant her slight of figure or the fact that she was a fox was left for her to decide. "I could show you a few more made for women folk."


The porcelain curve of her chin raised higher and she looked at him now almost entirely through her lashes. If she resented his implication, whichever version he meant, it was his only indication or her ire before she leveled a finger, pointing straight armed over the counter to the large, thick-barrelled handgun in the rear cabinets.

"The Glock, forty-five. " she corrected him with a slight tilt of her head and a dimple in the corner of her mouth. The look made her seem practically adolescent as she parted her lips just so...


Donnie turned to look at it and the girl. "Now that one there is a heavy one," he said unlocking the case and pulling it out regardless, he slid a cloth down to set it on top of it. "It's heavier when it has a full magazine however I like it about as much as a Desert Eagle. This one here is a third gen Glock so it doesn't have the special safety fixes of the gen 4 but still a good weapon," he advised her.


At first she thought he might continue to refuse, but the man took the gun out and laid it on the counter for her to inspect. She reached for it without hesitation, tiny little delicate fingers with their manicure sliding into over the grip as she took it into her hold. Finger poised off the trigger, she pulled back the slide to test its smoothness. The metallic -ch-KLAK!- of the hardware made her whet her lips thoughtfully.

The albino ignored any concerns about weight; usually she would have chosen high velocity rounds and speed loaders, but Shinju was not aiming at her kitsune kin this time. Speed had to be sacrificed for power.

The Glock still warming in her hold, she nodded after a moment, humming a soft 'mhm' with a nod to herself. It was placed back on the counter gently, the condensation fading from the grip where her skin had been.

"Steyr Fifty-caliber HS?" she asked next, eyes flitting across the wall behind him but not seeing anything resembling the chunky, black tripod rifle. Her accent changed the name to 'Sta-ya-ru' as it rolled off her tongue.


"Those are pretty mean little pieces. Not cheap either," he said shaking his head making no move to get it.


An arch of fine white hair dusting her brow line lifted, just a fraction.Her red eyes crawled over him again, paying attention to the way his shirt rested on the span of his shoulders, if it was tucked in, the way his belt sat if he wore one and even all the way down to his shoes.

He was none-too-subtly (however she suspect subtly was not one his man's talents) assuming her eyes were bigger than her wallet and Shinju let out a slow breath. Reaching inside the suit jacket, her white hand came out holding a bundle of hundreds, laying it on the countertop. Her hand lingered on top of the stack as her bloody eyes slashed back up to him.

"May I inspect those also?" she asked, her chin dipping to indicate the hunting knives in the counter cabinet beneath her hand.

Neither of them was addressing the fact she could smell him and she knew he could smell her. Neither were human. But neither of them were making anything of it just yet...


Donnie glanced to the cash that she splayed out onto the counter. It wasn't enough for the 50-cal but it was enough for him to nudge his nose into the air. "Pick that shit up and git on outta here."

Mindy G

Her fingers slid off the bundle and she slowly folded her arms, back straightening a fraction and her heels shifting into a subtle stance. The pose parted the halves of her jacket and her forearms lifted her bust with their support, making the neckline of the black dress beneath strain against the upper curve of the milky globes.

Her chin did not lift, instead her head tilted, deliberately exposing one side of a pristine neck to him. Her body language was never an accident, the pale young woman controlled her presentation to a fine detail.

"Is there a problem?"
she asked evenly, keeping her voice cool despite the warmth she was imbuing her visage, as if she were entirely ignorant of it.

It had been her experience desire was easier believed when it seemed subconscious rather than overt and she was wary the wolf might take offense simply because of what she was, so she went no further for that moment...


“Yeah. You didn’t hear me apparently. Ain’t nothin’ good gonna come from what her lookin’ to do and I ain’t gonna be the reason it happens. So pick up your money and take it somewhere that someone wants it,” he nodded toward the door.

Mindy G

Even though she made a show of taking a long, soft and deep breath to make her chest swell gently, the corners of her lashes flinched. It was gone in a heartbeat, easily missed if her target was looking where she wanted him to.

"Hm." the hum came from the back of her throat, making the delicate tendons there jump under the skin. She dropped her gaze to the floor, apparently contemplating the minute detail there.

When she looked at him again it was not directly. Not even when she brought her arms to her sides, bent at the waist and lowered her head towards him.

"Gomen-nasai." came her whispered apology before she straightened. "Very well. Please keep the money. In exchange for information instead."

Ever so gently Shinju lifted her chin, tilting it again to one side to show him her throat but there was a tangled look in her eyes this time. And her breathing had gone very still.


“Don’t know if you noticed lady. But I’m not hurtin for money,” he glared at her. “So pick it up and git,” this time he pointed at it and indicated toward the door.

Mindy G

The glare hardly worried her, nor did his repeated demand to leave. She stayed still, taking great care to stifle even the rise and fall of her breath.

Shinju was not used to being refused. Nor was she accustomed to her subterfuge coming up against such a granite personality. She could garner no indication that her approach was softening his decision, so the former wakagashira changed tactics.

Without reaching to retrieve the bundle on the counter, the young woman nodded as if she were acknowledging his wishes and turned with the quiet click of her heels towards the door. Her gait was unhurried as she crossed the store floor and reached out a small, alabaster hand for the front door.

Before she promptly twisted the lock and pulled the blind covering the window insert down to her waist.

Now when she returned to him, her feet had gone quiet, her very steps changing as if another person waded their way toward him.

"In my country, it is very rude to refuse a gift..."
her voice floated through the shelves as she took her time finding the firearms counter again. Emerging from the mouth of the nearest aisle, she was shedding her suit jacket to drape it over a fishing gear display. "However if you do not want money..."
The way she said it, the warmth bled out of the words, warned that the dynamic had changed and she was not playing nice anymore. A single fox within a wolf's den should be more cautious, but Shinju was confident she had assessed his body and musculature well enough by what she could see. He was older then her and not as quick with his reflexes, she concluded.

Her feet were shoulder-width apart now, toes out turned in her heels boots and the slender length of her arms rested by her sides as those red eyes pinned him like a moth to a display board...


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