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[stalkthenight]

New Footage of Ana de Armas in No Time To Die Trailer #2

[stalkthenight]

ohthelux​:

WHO : @stalkthenight​

It was unlike the male to arrive later than the rest, but the recent lack of time within his schedule caused his presence to be delayed, or entirely missed because of a variety of responsibilities in his life. There was only a modest sigh released from his lips as the black mask was adjusted on the bridge of his nose, an obstruction that he would have preferred to do without, but there were only so many rules he could ignore that evening. Lux slipped through an open gap between the party goers, his eyes roaming for the cluster that their pack naturally formed while in public, but there were no recognizable faces upon a mere glance. Others would have been intimidated by a room full of unknown inhabitants, but it only prompted his remaining senses to take over, seeking out those by their natural scent. It would have been easier for the male in an open area, with the combination of not only species, but faux essence that women, and men alike chose to over use when they knew others would be within close proximity. While he was ready to bypass a group of chatting women, the scent of one in particular hindered his pace from moving forward, a gaze set on the brunette to confirm who he assumed was under the intricate mask. Lux continued onward to step around the woman at Adella’s side, clearing his throat to announce the interruption of his shadow as a hand reached to settle along the small of her back. “Nothing left for the imagination, huh?” Though the statement muttered out from a causal smile, his attention briefly fell to the silk material that hung from her frame, a daring ensemble compared to what he saw on his path into the crowded room. With the abrupt noise of an opening champagne bottle, Lux followed the echo it produced for those that could hear further than the mortal ear, only to find a joyous commotion surrounding the bar. “I want a drink  — but do I want to deal with that?” 

-

Adella always had certain expectations of herself when it came to social events. Although she held no sway position in her pack, being well liked and respected was important to her, both from the pack but also within the supernatural realm. From a young age she had been taught by her parents the proper etiquettes when it came to socialization, grooming her for a position at the Alpha’s side, leading by example just as much as the alpha. Events like this were a much political games as council meetings, especially when wolves were facing scrutiny at the moment from the rest of the species. However, she had been trapped in a rather long and painful conversation with a warlock, who seemed more concerned with her legs than the actual mundane topic of the conversation, and his less than impressed girlfriend. She must have been sending out massive “HELP ME” into the cosmic universe for a familiar scent and heat to come up behind her and unintentionally rescue her. “Excuse me,” she stated to the couple, letting the hand guide her away from the conversation. 

“Don’t you know seduction is half the work when it comes to power,” she teased back. “Plus, you should want your artwork on display,” she stated, referencing to the chest piece Lux had done for her back when she had had a little too much to drink. Moving her hand behind her, she grabbed onto Lux’s hand and snaked her hand into the crook of his elbow while begrudgingly dragging both of them towards the rambunctious crowd situated at the bar. “I don’t want to deal with that,” she started, “but I need a drink and I owe you one for rescuing me. Though twenty minutes earlier would have been nice, where have you been?”

[stalkthenight]

xylahawk​:

◢

With remaining rooted in place the only option Xyla had to take in order to have her request — practically a plea — successfully fulfilled, she could not occupy herself as she usually might have in dealing with a swirl of new energy. That is, shift around in place or interact with objects upon the nearest surface as she might have done in the safe enclosed territory of her library. The other’s answering narration quickly took precedence, rising like air bubbles to the top of the Xyla’s molten interior. The movements of partygoers attending the ball were no more that fragments in her peripheral vision, faded into the distance beyond the tending of the woman’s hands. Biting down on her bottom lip, Xyla was limited to fiddle through visual means alone; eyes darting from the ground to skirting around the expression in front of her. The fact that much of her face was obscured intrigued and frustrated Xya’s bottomless curiosity to understand all she could. Only the stranger’s eyes and lips could be defined in their true form, although perhaps makeup played a part in blurring the lines of truth slightly. Nonetheless, Xyla could focus on nothing else until the moment passed and she was released by whatever invisible chamber had stolen the air from the room with her tucked away deep inside of it.

The returning wedge of distance broke whatever spell had gripped and dizzied Xyla’s focus, finally enabling her to shake her head as if erasing feelings was as simple as scattering etch-a-sketch traces. “Agree to disagree, then,” she mumbled in perfunctory surrender, dark eyes readily averted to the bar top as she re-acquainted herself with the tangible sensory overload of her surroundings. In truth, Xyla could not deny there was immense poetic value in what had been said. Nor could she openly pledge she had not based entire interactions with people over a wordless yet powerfully communicative glance. It was what admitting to such was attached to that she was more reluctant to approach, and therefore settled on solving the dryness of her lips and mouth by fixating on the more inviting prospect being spoken into existence. Grateful to have an excuse to leap from one subject to another, she lightly chuckled with an inadvertently coy tilt of her head. “Mhmm. Taking advantage of the open bar is the only thing I really planned on doing tonight, actually. I mean, clearly I didn’t come to play dress-up, if this—“ cue nearly dislodging her mask again with a thoughtlessly animated gesture towards her face that risked coming too close, “— didn’t make that obvious enough. I was drinking a, uh, Hemingway Champagne…?” She withheld the urge to cringe at how the title sounded aloud, in the sweet timbre of her voice, lilting upwards at the end like a know-it-all bibliophile might mention a lesser known book title that everyone ought to know yet realistically didn’t. A baseless claim that rarity meant better than the week’s bestseller, just to appear smart. Oh, you haven’t heard? Too many one-sided conversations dealing with exactly such characters made it glaringly obvious when she barely even toed the line of such behaviour. “Just champagne and absinthe, really. Nothing special,” she went on elaborate in a murmur, waving her hand dismissively before setting it down upon the bar and drumming her fingertips in a random rhythm. “I was thinking of a Maiden’s Prayer next. Extra gin.”

-

There was something almost mesmerizing about the woman in front of her, so bewitched in her spell that she wondered briefly if something other worldly had compelled her here. She dismissed the thought rather quickly, solidifying within herself that not knowing was better than knowing at times. Adella shifted in her seat as she focused her attention on what the other woman was talking about, a voice barely heard over the cacophony of intoxicated patrons that surrounded them. An eyebrow quirked up as the woman went on about various cocktail ingredients, which surprised Adella and her limited knowledge of alcohol.

“You know your liquor,” Adella stated, clearly impressed, before searching behind the bar for a bartender. She managed to flag one over and then ordered for both of them: A Maiden’s Prayer for the woman, and a glass of Shiraz for her. It dawned on her that of the many mysteries surrounding this stranger, not knowing her name was one of them. “I’m Adella, by the way,” she said, extending her hand out to the girl, “Do you have a name or should I just call you Pretty Eyes for the rest of the night?” With that said, she was immediately thankful for the mask which concealed the inevitable cringe at the line. 

[stalkthenight]

xylahawk​:

◢

   To say Xyla was caught off guard would have been an understatement. Expecting only a sign of either confirmation or denial that the gold outline of her mask was positioned less than perfectly had been all she had prepared to respond to. To which it would then be her turn to either fumble through a ‘thank you, just checking’ or a ‘thank you, could you please help me with it?’ being the natural course of action to follow in the aftermath. Any plans Xyla might have clung to with a thread of confidence were forced to rapidly unravel in the wake of the beguiling masked woman she had before her, intimidating Xyla in more ways than one. Her stomach clenched at the thought of having to speak up again, to dare argue with the statement so matter-of-factly presented it almost felt wrong to not play Devil’s advocate and submit to the dangers of temporary indulgence.

No wrongdoing. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Xyla clenched her teeth when yet another intrusive thought not of her own orchestration piped up, seemingly anticipating Xyla’s knee-jerk reaction which would be to brush the comment off and try to politely yet forcefully refuse the positive light being shed upon her. Blinking dumbly on the spot, Xyla raised her chin a fraction to prove the point to herself: eyes were eyes, nothing special. And she discovered the stranger’s eyes were green. Just a colour, of course — and one found more commonly in the landscape of life. Green like spring’s renewal through resurrection; signs of life after winters months of blanketing white, cold, and darkness. Green like a patch of shamrocks, faintly bleached by the harshness of sunlight. Green like the symbolic flowing robes worn over the full breasts of Goddesses associated with harmony, hope, and peace drawn on the tarot deck covers which Xyla had once snuck a browsing peek of at whilst passing through Portland’s more spiritually esoteric district.

Regardless, despite a lifetime of experience, Xyla never fared well being looked at — no, examined. For it was the unusual edge of intimacy to the regard which had enticed such a reaction from inside of her — as if she were an object of study pinned to a slide beneath an emerald encased microscope. It made her bare forearms prickle and her lips twitch around a sheepish smile as her face flushed with heat so suddenly she could only hope her earlier applied coats of concealing foundation and bronzer betrayed nothing of the sort. “Right, well, I don’t— thank you, I mean. That is quite— very flattering, but I… believe eyes are for seeing, not to be seen, y’know? It matters more what they do, not what attention they grab, right? I mean, I think… I think that’s…. uh, a better way…” swallowing hard mid-sentence, she willed herself to string together a train of thought more coherent and unbroken aloud. Only one matter truly held relevance, and it was towards that point she hastened to direct the conversation back on the track of. “Anyways, if you wouldn’t mind, could you uhm, help me get it un-crooked…?”

-

Adella would have given just about anything to be companion on whatever internal journey the other girl went through between her uttering the compliment to the other girl actually replying. The seconds of silence seemed excruciatingly longer than they most likely were, and she wondered if maybe she had been to brazen in making such a bold statement. So when a smile creeped over the other woman’s face, Adella felt the tension she didn’t know she’d been holding dissipate. It wasn’t like her to fluster girls, or anyone really, though Adella usually favoured the company of men. Her intention had been only been to aid the other in an uncomfortable setting, but it was her that had been disarmed by the girl’s magnetic and unpredictable social presence. 

“Sure,” she rasped out before placing her drink back down on the bar top. With the clearing of her throat, Adella reached forward to gently grab onto either side of the girl’s mask. “See I believe eyes are more than just tools we use to see others,” Adella said softly, fingers toying with the mask in an attempt to adjust it, “you can tell a lot about a person by looking into their eyes.” As she said that, her eyes briefly flickered to Xyla’s, as though she was punctuating her point with a look. “What’s in a look if not a statement, or story, in fact our eyes are the only truth when we talk.” 

Adella finished adjusting the mask and then let a hand wander to tuck a stray strand of hair behind the woman’s ear. “Almost nothing need be said, when you have eyes,” she quoted before pulling her hands away and looking at the woman’s mask, “there, that should do it.” The realization dawned on her that she may have been bordering on too much eye contact and so she pulled back and feigned looking for the barkeep. “What are you drinking?” she asked with a glance in the girl’s direction, “gotta take advantage of an open bar when you can.”

[stalkthenight]

xylahawk​:

    With an expression smoothed by concentration, from her perch beside the open bar, Xyla took a lavish sip of the opalescent elixir placed in front of her. Death in the Afternoon. Nothing like gulps of a ( pretentiously requested ) made-to-order Hemingway Champagne to curve the edge of even the most thorny of nerves. Clutching the thin stem of the cocktail glass between her thumb and forefinger, the crystalline vessel felt uncomfortably foreign in the precarious pressure of her grasp. It seemed the theme of Xyla’s chosen stance that evening; bearing in mind a critical study towards every extravagant detail decorating the venue’s surroundings — outshined only by the radiance of its guests — which all together shone a blinding spotlight upon pre-existent feelings of her being out of place. Imposter. Accordingly, as soon as the remaining liquid was rushed down her throat, she immediately placed the object back down upon the bar top and scuttled away from it. Fraud. “Quiet, now,” murmured beneath her breath, Xyla inquisitively cast her gaze around the room as she navigated the outskirts of the portion of floor dedicated to dancing. Dazzled by the sight of effortless elegance performed by each stranger’s step, her stomach knotted as she promptly pivoted to direct herself back towards the bar. Not remotely close to the state of inebriation needed to dare undergo ice breaking of any sort, Xyla once more waited her turn to order behind a small gathering of partygoers. Giving into nervous habit, she reached upwards to rub the back of her hand across her eyes only to find her destination blocked by the forgotten presence of her mask. With her knuckles ungracefully colliding into the face covering’s obstruction, the hidden clips keeping it in place beneath her hair shifted in response to the disturbance. Fudge me. Only able to guess how severely or slightly askew her adornment was without a mirror, in a haze of embarrassment, she was forced to engage with the first set of eyes caught with her own in order to test the recent displacement’s noticeability. “Uh, so, y’know… theoretically,” she began, uneasily clearing her throat, “when you look at me, what’s the first thing you notice?” 

-

Although she would never admit it, there was something about a lavish party that Adella just adored. Maybe it was the excuse to dress up, or maybe it was that the cocktails always seemed to hit differently, but whenever these events came around it transported her to a different reality. One wherein she wasn’t inherently a beast, something that children who didn’t know any better feared. It wasn’t that she hated being a wolf, it was that sometimes being aware of the supernatural, being supernatural, well that was exhausting. She leaned with her back to the bar, elbows propped on the bar top as she surveyed the crowd before her. It seems as though, for the most part, everyone was enjoying themselves (and behaving). It was always a gander that the species would co-mingle, and she felt some sort of protectiveness over the fragile peace that was established, one that was desperately needed after the month they had had. 

It was perhaps Adella’s perception that drew her towards a woman across from her at the bar. There was a familiarity in the way the woman fidgeted nervously, seemed like she wanted to be almost anywhere else than here, and with the rambunctiousness of the crowd, she couldn’t really blame her. With that, Adella turned and picked up her drink before making her way over to the woman. It had taken a lot for Adella to feel comfortable in social settings after the wolf awoke, and so she thought if she could alleviate some of the social anxiety. She was thrown off guard, however, by the girl’s initial question, coupled with the most striking pair of greyish brown eyes she had ever seen. She recovered quickly, and leaned with her forearms against the bar as she took a seat next to the other woman, body angled towards her.  Meeting the girl’s eyes she searched as to what kind of answer the girl was looking for. When nothing about her face gave it away, Adella chanced to say, “Your eyes. It’s like running through a fog in the forrest.” As she said it, she averted her eyes and then took a sip of her drink. “Also, your mask is crooked, but your eyes make everything else go away.”

[stalkthenight]

theorichards​:

Most nights, most waking moments it was a delicate balancing act to keep two worlds from colliding. The wolf and more prominent portion of him cared little for cages be they his own ribs or the thought of being confined behind metal bars like an animal. That of him which was human had to lie rather skillfully every day to a mother that loved him to keep her unaware of the monster inside his bones born with him at the same time he first drew breath and of the world she wasn’t allowed to know. Other wolves, most at least, hadn’t this struggle fighting to natures that were meant to war within him. This night however lines were blurred and the world dove deep into shadow and deeper mysteries while maintaining a cover that allowed even humans to be in a word anonymous. Never before had the man cared for this kind of thing, stuffed shirts and the paper face on parade but for Theo Richards it felt different this year. Perhaps he was getting the appeal of being able to be himself as fully as he could be within the confines of the masquerade. The world was alive and full of decadent delights bordering on near debauchery. It was something to behold. Sticking out a hand he grabbed a flute of champagne lifting it to his lips. “Here is to tonight. May it be worth talking about” @taintedstarters​ / winter solstice masquerade

Adella watched as the crowd around her mingled and drank, humans and supernatural alike. This was one of the few things things the council planned yearly that Ellie actually liked, and without a doubt it was very much needed this year. They were still reeling from the events of the last month, and although Adella usually looked forward to this night she found herself on edge from all of the things that were still unknown. With the music and alcohol flowing though it made it easier for her to be distracted. Her hand reached for a champagne flute around the same time another hand grabbed one and she let them before taking a glass for herself. With a nod and the raise of her glass she said, “hear, hear.” She took a long sip and looked around before adding, “though for my sake, I hope i can keep it in line for one night. How have you been?”

[stalkthenight]

Adella Perez:  50th Winter Solstice Masquerade look

[stalkthenight]

ofandrewdavenport​:

Andrew was glad to see some of the pack taking him up on the suggestion to enjoy the moment. They walked the vendor stalls and seemed to be enjoying the Christmas cheer without worry. That was his job to do. Even if for a second he might have cracked a smile at the sight of a lawn ornament shaped in the form of some kind of dog, Labrador or something, and it was its tail wagged with Christmas lights. The wolf was internally rolling its eyes at the cheesiness. But that moment seemed to be caught by another pack member and he sensed half a moment before her hand wrapped around his upper arm and she was at his side gently trying to redirect the alpha in the direction she had come from. He allowed himself to follow her.

“I have a feeling I’m going to regret whatever you suggest,” He said half of him just being stubborn to the whole Christmas yuletide of it all. His eyebrow cracked in a ‘really’ at the suggestion of wood chopping competition. “So pretty much, who makes the better lumberjack is what you’re suggesting right now.” If anything, Adella had managed to achieve an honest laugh out of the alpha and gotten his mind off the rogue pack for the moment. There was a lightness in his tone, an amusement as he responded. “I’m not sure what’s actually worse right now, you’re being serious about doing this, or the fact that the event has a wood chopping competition.”

-

Adella looked back at him with a teasing glint in her eyes as she navigated them through the busy crowd. “When have I ever suggested something that wasn’t fun?” she called out over her shoulder. With a shrug and a nod, she weaved in between bodies, gently pushing people aside as the wolf effortlessly made their way back towards the area she had seen this ‘attraction’. “Yeah, pretty much, wait until you see what the winning prize is,” she said as stopped and looked around, letting go of Andrew’s arm in the process. “Hey, don’t know it till you try it.” Her eyebrows furrowed as she looked around, “I could’ve sworn it was around here somewhere.... oh! there it is,” she exclaimed as she pulled the male back into a walk and towards the woodchopping stand. She had a teasing smile on her face while she waited for the male to notice the Siberian Husky plush to be won. 

[stalkthenight]

callme-quinn​:

Everything that happened that night had gone by in a blur. He was the type who liked to live and exist in solitude but when it came to the pack things were different. He hadn’t been in one for most of his life and this had been as close to a family he ever knew. It aligned with his need to protect others and his instinct to fight others. Quinn had been hurt before trying to defend and protect before, but not by other werewolves. It still hurt and he still walked away with it covered in blood and in pain. He just tried to pretend it hadn’t affected him though. The healers and his own abilities to heal had helped him once he’d gotten to safety, but he still had questions. He still needed to know what had happened exactly. He took a seat in the steam room trying to avoid conversation, despite the words swimming around in his head. It was easy for him to just try to stay invisible, till he realized someone had made their way over to him. “Before you ask, I’m fine” Quinn replied as he kept his focus on the table top, trying to avoid that topic in case it was coming up. “ What the hell happened that night?” 

@taintedstarters​

-

The storm had damaged part of her little shop’s entryway. The storm, or the feral wolves, honestly it all blurred into one at this point. She had contractors working on it right now and, although Adella was one to supervise any activity in her shop, she found herself at the Steam Room on a much needed Java break. The wolf girl ordered a coffee with her usual one cream/one sugar combination and turned to leave. Her eyes caught a familiar figure sitting at one of the tables and Adella paused, catching her bottom lip between her teeth. Without much thought to what she would say, she made her way over to the other boy, the question as to how he was quick to be swallowed back at his less than conventional greeting. 

“You’re telling me you don’t remember,” she asked softly, as she took a seat across from the boy. “Those feral wolves attacked you. I don’t know why, or how, I wasn’t with you when it happened but we all felt it...”

[stalkthenight]

ofandrewdavenport​:

location: capitol hill, annual winter light show

It was hard to imagine the events of the last week had happened. The main streets of capitol hill were lit up for the holidays and people buzzed around from vendor to vendor, oohhing and ahhing at the displays. It was definitely a change from the raging storm and for those who knew it, the injuries and deaths that had taken place. But this was the world that mixed supernatural and human alike. It was for a moment an escape from things and with tensions boiling, he’d insisted that the store was shut down for the evening, no inventory or excuses of work for the night, and no one should have been back at the pack house. He wouldn’t force the issue but Andrew thought they all needed an evening. 

Though some might say he was calling the kettle black. Everyone liked christmas lights, even he could admit that seeing the twinkle of lights cracked a smile. But he wasn’t big into the holidays. He wasn’t a grinch by any means,just didn’t get into the whole thing. He’d come because he was worried; call him paranoid or too overly cautious, but they hadn’t been able to pick up the rogue packs trail since that night. That didn’t sit well with him or his wolf side. It would be stupid to attempt anything here, but stupid is as stupid does. Andrew found himself trying to appear like he was browsing but the alpha remained on alert as he did.

@taintedstarters​

-

The air was cool and the sky was still overcast. Still, it was nothing outside like the previous week and Adella took comfort in the atmospheric change. She too had concerns about the lack of trace from the rogue wolf pack, but she wasn’t one to shoot a gift horse in the mouth and if there was momentary peace then she was all too happy to bask in it. As such she found herself perusing the stalls of this Christmas market, very happy to fall into the stereotype of dogs liking shiny things. Her family had never practiced Christmas in the traditional sense, being devout of a different faith, but she still took pleasure in admiring the lights, the food, and the holiday cheers that this time of year brought around. It seemed to be, by all accounts, the only time of the year people weren’t absolute shit to each other. 

Even though Andrew had been the one suggesting they all needed a night off, she was surprised when she saw his built figure partaking in the holiday cheer. Well, trying to at least. She could feel the tension coming off of him like waves. “You know what I think would help you relax,” she started as she approached him, wrapping a warm hand around his bicep to gently pull him in the direction she’d just come from, “wood chopping competition. What do you say?”

[stalkthenight]

adella + august 📱

august: So far I'm in the clear, wbu?

adella: Same. Couple close calls. Pack's a little on edge.

[stalkthenight]

adella + august 📱

adella: hey, you die in any fights lately?

[stalkthenight]

THE BEAST HOWLS IN MY BLOOD (link)

A WIP character intro playlist for Adella Perez (WIP)