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Post by Volta on Jul 27, 2008 22:00:02 GMT -5
A ragged creature trotted in the shadow of the church. Huge and shaggy, with patches of black marring its snowy pelt, it dodged among the decaying tombstones. Occasionally it stumbled against the remnants of some long-forgotten monument, or its eyes (which shone an electric yellow, harsh against the harlequin pattern of its broad face) went wide and it stared, nose buried in the dark earth, for long moments into nothing. The span of its shoulders, the grace of its walk, the vigilant point of its ears marked it as a wolf—and a male at that, though it did not move with the assertive tread of the dominant sex. Instead there was something subdued about it—something not quite right—that invited a closer look at its physical and mental makeup.
The wolf, whose name was Davolta Marse, for reasons he no longer had the ability to recall, spoke to himself as he walked. His voice burbled like a stream, ran like rainwater down into a deep ravine, keened and turned back on itself like the wind on a summer morning. Low and dark, yet still somehow shining with what had once been called ‘warmth’ or ‘friendliness,’ this voice resounded against the tombstones of the dead, and stirred the grass that grew above their bones. These are the things that it said:
”Moldering bones that lie in the ground, forgotten stones gone soft and round… ” He was almost singing, whispering to himself. It one got close enough to hear these words, she would see what had drawn her to him from the first. She, this imaginary listener, would lay eyes on the difference, the ghastly alteration that separated him from her. A twisting scar cut into the right side of his head, stopping just above his eye. The stitches that pressed into his fur were only half-hidden by the piebald nature of his coat. Someone, or something, had sliced itself into him, subtly shifting his aura from that moment onward.
”And you never left, did you?” He was talking again; to himself, to the earth, to the dead. ”No… you couldn’t, or you wouldn’t. It’s warm in the earth, isn’t it? Close to the core, the pit of the peach… And it’s quiet. No more buzzing bees… Ants, maybe, or moles. Though I never knew a mole to cause a ruckus, I don’t know about you…” Davolta sniffed to himself, scratched his black-button nose with a massive paw.
”Do you miss the sky, though? I wonder… I do sometimes, that I do. It curls the night up and tucks the clouds away, until I ask them to come back…” So saying, he tossed his head back, shaking a bit of fur from his eyes, and gaped into the vast, near-cloudless heavens. “See? They’re hiding, just now. They’re making fog in my head, behind my eyes…” And he flopped down in the long grass, his head settled comfortably against his gangly forelegs, his mouth smiling sadly to itself.
”It’s just, nobody knows it but me.”
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Post by Lilith on Jul 27, 2008 23:09:48 GMT -5
we can't all be saints
A lithe, feminine figure bobbed in and out of the crumbling tombstones. The small gray she-wolf lifted her head above the stones, her lips pulled back over her teeth in a strange smile. She inhaled the scent of the wolf that she had been following as she closed her eyes. The scent of rot and decay may be gone, but the strange, morbid feeling of this placed lingered on, like a ghost. Although she had no idea of the concept of burial, she knew this place was different. She loved it. The gloomy, collapsing building struggling to stand in the background and the overgrown grounds were depressing. And the thought of the dark surroundings left her elated.
The she-wolf grinned to herself as she continued to bounce through the jungle of weeds and ivy, unconsciously staying in the shadows. The wolf was called Lilith. She had no lands to call her own, as of now, but she was not planning on staying homeless for very long. She was on the hunt. Looking for a third wolf to join her ranks. Lilith gave a strange grin as she thought of her mate. For a moment she wondered where he had gone to, but she quickly shook the image from her thoughts.
Lilith hopped along, feeling happier than she had lately. She was about to turn the corner around part of the wall that still stood when she caught a glimpse of white out of the corner of her eye. She looked up, but it wasn’t there. She stopped to look around, but saw nothing. "Hmm... it must be my eyes playing a trick on me in..." She turned her head to one side, then looked down. There on the ground in front of her was the black and white wolf she had been following. She blinked the image she had just seen away and flashed a coy smile as she approached.
“Hello,” she murmured in a sing song voice. Her dark grey eyes looked the black and white he-wolf over. “I’m Lilith.” She noted the scar on his face and was instantly intrigued. “What can I call you?” She walked around to face the male as she spoke. Lilith sat down and pulled her tail around her small paws and turned her head to one side as she waited patiently for him.
{Status; Complete; sorry it's short. I can't think, lol.}
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Post by Volta on Aug 15, 2008 19:06:23 GMT -5
As the gray wolf approached him, Volta questioned whether she was of the living. His hackles twitched as he looked her over, waiting for a sign that she had come to him in flesh-and-blood form. Had he been bolder, the piebald hunter might have waited until she grew still, then stood and brushed her shoulder with his nose, or reached a paw out to test the solidity of her pelt… but for now he relied on less invasive senses, and discovered two reassuring characteristics. For one, she carried scent, unlike the dead: each breath he took in her presence smelled of femininity, of the male who had claimed her, of sneaking ambition… Secondly, he sensed an aura around her. The edges of her fur gleamed with red, like iridescent drops of blood. This halo was immaterial; a product of his mind—but it nevertheless marked her as a breathing being. Whether or not she has a heart, though, remains to be proven…
Meeting her colorless gaze, Volta dipped his head in response to the she-wolf’s greeting but disregarded her introduction for the moment. Part of him remained wary of her company. ”You walk in the shadows as if they bore you,” he said, eyeing her carefully. ”And you carry a storm beneath your coat.” Aware that what he said meant little to her, and presented the depth of his madness, Volta bit the tip of his tongue. Feeling suddenly chastened, he turned his attention to the woods beyond her. False creatures writhed in the shade; the wind gave them terrible, whispering voices. She is the Devil, they told him conspiratorially. She drinks the blood of children, she stalks in nightmares. But he looked into her pallid eyes and knew that the voices lied.
”I have answered to many words, stranger—but my name is Davolta Marse,” he said crisply, choosing to be formal with the shaded female. Noting the collected way she held herself, and the certain bouncy tread she’d adopted upon entering this gloomy place, the black-and-white wolf grew curious. Glancing sidelong, so as not to intimidate or offend her, he opened his mouth a fourth time. ”What brings you to the den of the dead, I wonder?” One corner of his jaw attempted to smile in her direction, as though the two of them shared a secret. ”Do you hear them, too? Or,” and again, his eyes grew sly for an instant, testing her, ”did you come seeking someone like me?” He laughed softly in his throat, unaware that he had done so, feeling a little off-kilter. ”You don’t find my sort too often, I’m afraid.”
Let her make of that comment as she liked. He dared not move a paw until she set the tone between them more definitively.
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Post by Lilith on Aug 16, 2008 8:27:29 GMT -5
Lilith watched the male as he studied her. “You walk in the shadows as if they bore you… And you carry a storm beneath your coat.” Slightly confused, Lilith opened her mouth the question the wolf, but he was not looking at her. The he-wolf was concentrated on something behind her. She turned her ears back and glanced over her shoulder to see what was so interesting, but saw nothing. She turned to look at him again when he spoke. “I have answered to many words, stranger—but my name is Davolta Marse,” Lilith pulled her lips back into a grin. “Hello, Davolta Marse.” She would have said more, but the other wolf was already speaking again, “What brings you to the den of the dead, I wonder? Do you hear them, too? Or did you come seeking someone like me?” She turned her head to one side. What was he talking about?
“I was only taking a walk…” She grinned and watched him closely. This wolf was not like any she had met before. Although he was a bit odd, he was definitely entertaining. Then, as if he had been reading her mind he spoke again. “You don’t find my sort too often, I’m afraid.” For a second she looked shocked, but quickly regained her composure. Could he see her thoughts? But that’s absurd… She smiled at him. If he could, she could use that to her advantage…“I like the quiet surrounding the place…” She closed her eyes and listened to nothing. She got the strange feeling that there was something else around them, however. Her thoughts wandered back to the white shape… Could this wolf really have been what she had seen? She shook her mental self. Then she looked into his yellow eyes. “Are you alone, or do you have a pack to claim you?” He did not smell of any other wolves, but she decided to ask anyway. It was only polite.
{Status; Complete; Sorry it took so long. It's done now. ^.^}
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Post by Volta on Aug 23, 2008 14:58:25 GMT -5
{You know it's all good. I look forward to your replies whenever you can get to them.}
The whispering quieted behind him; though Volta caught the searching look in his guest’s eyes, he knew she would never hear it as he did. Did his behavior bother her? His eyes threatened to glitter at the thought—it amused him in a strange way, but the sound of his name on her tongue drew his mind from the topic. She seemed very pleased to meet him; the idea instantly made him suspicious. But then, how could she know who she had met, or what he’d been through? He certainly wasn’t about to tell her so soon into their introductions. Perhaps she only coveted his strength, his size… his forbidding looks. Wolves had come questing after him for these things in the past. But they had always regretted it.
Since then, he had learned to lie better, to move with more kindness…to avoid certain subjects.
The tilt of her head as he mentioned the dead indicated that she held little influence over the supernatural—either that or she was a stone’s throw saner than him, despite the surroundings she seemed to enjoy. Part of him itched at the prospect of teaching her how to listen, or deceiving her. Crazy as he could be, Volta knew he did not possess second sight, or the power of necromancy. He simply… felt things differently than others, which could sometimes be turned to his benefit. Other nights, he reminded himself, your senses make you wish for the dark and cold. Anything to ease the storms… He brought his forelegs up, pulling his body into a languid half-sitting position, and shook his head lightly. Enough melancholy. Fate had seen fit to grace him with company.
A walk… The harlequin male regarded her with interest. Why not take some greener pathway, or trot alongside the cheerful burbling of the stream that ran clear and pretty, far from these gravestones? Then came Lilith’s answer: ”I like the quiet surrounding the place…” And she even demonstrated for him. Volta smiled at her, almost wistfully. She could relax and ease her spirit in the very same place he feared to close his eyes. And she talked of quiet! When every stone shrieked its grievances to him…
Life was funny.
Their eyes met, wrenching him into the present once more. ”I am never alone, Lilith,” he said softly. ”But I submit to no one in this place as of yet. I sleep with the earth for my pillow. I sing to myself, and myself only.” Aware that he had rambled, the patterned wolf clicked his teeth and restated his answer. “I have no pack, to put it into shorter words.” The golden stare twisted to focus on the she-wolf. “Do you call yourself a queen?” he asked, ears flicking back submissively as if he already knew the answer. Will you claim me for your court? While she might have thought his question insubordinate, in truth he was bitten with curiosity. Where did she live? How many had she chosen to run with? Did she have family? Lilith brought with her a remnder of all that the yellow-eyed wolf had lost. He felt starved by his own nostalgia.
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Post by Lilith on Sept 13, 2008 14:02:08 GMT -5
She watched Volta closely. He seemed to be having a debate with himself. She tilted her head to one side, curious. What had happened to this wolf? She figured that it would be better not to question him about the scar. Seriously, though? Lilith would probably get pissed if someone asked her to tell them her life story. Give me one reason why I shouldn‘t rip out your throat! She had done it before. But the wolf was ignorant. He had deserved it. She surpressed the urge to laugh out loud, but instead smiled.
She looked at Volta as he answered her question. “I am never alone, Lilith, but I submit to no one in this place as of yet. I sleep with the earth for my pillow. I sing to myself, and myself only.” She watched him as he sat there for a moment, then spoke again. “I have no pack, to put it into shorter words.” She nodded quietly. She looked down for a moment. When she returned her gaze to the he-wolf, she realized that he had been staring at her. “Do you call yourself a queen?” He immediately pulled his ears back, and she knew that she really didn’t have to answer. She pulled her lips back into a smile and nodded anyway. “Aye,” she paused. The image of her mate and the forced itself to the front of her mind and she sighed. “My kingdom is not one to be desired, however.” She looked away at the dark trees. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something was there, but she knew there was nothing.
She tore herself forcefully away from the thought and back to the he-wolf. “I am on a quest to build my kingdom up.” She smiled, something flashed in her eyes. Glory? Power? It could have been a number of things.
{Status; Complete.}
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Cujo
Newcomer
A Beast of his own Class
Lurking in the shadows...
Posts: 27
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Post by Cujo on Sept 19, 2008 23:11:15 GMT -5
there are a lot of dreamers with swords, but only the strong can succeed.
Step by step, inch by inch. One foot in front of the other. Cujo was not one for stealth. He was visible; his scent obvious. There was no attempt to hide his heavy footfalls. He doubted he could have done so if he wanted to. It took enough energy to weave between the lines of tombstones. Let's not forget the eerie scent of the dead; it had a tendency to weasel its way into the nasal canals and burn out all the hair inside. The author vaguely remembers the proper name for the hair inside the nose; was it cilia? Yes, I do believe that is what it was. None-the-less, with the problems of his great size and his burning cilia, Cujo was already in a poor mood. A slight headache nagged in the back of his head. It was not a migraine, but at this point it could go either way.
Things did not look fortunate for those that must be involved in this up-coming interaction.
For lack of a transition between these lovely paragraphs, Cujo found himself finally inhaling something else besides the smell of crumbling human foundations. It was a rather pleasing experience, as it relieved his thoughts of this place being completely empty. Having wandered aimlessly for a few days doing things that I shan't describe as the readers would probably fall off their chair/couch, falling asleep and drooling all over their keyboard, floor, or cat, Cujo was pleased to find some signs of sentient life. Well, the squirrel he ate the other day had a lot to say before he bit its head off, but you know what I mean.
You can probably tell I need sleep and am extremely bored. Sorry, this only happens under these conditions where I will babble aimlessly IC. It keeps me entertained while progressing the role play.
He somehow managed to find his way around the church, following the scent of whomever had passed through. It was not until the scent registered that he realized the scent's owner. His brown ears flicked upward in slight surprise. He anticipated what Lilith would say; then his headache suddenly snapped at the back of his brain like a nearly-dead cat in a box. It was then that he heard the sound of voices. He sighed; now who would Lilith be talking to?
The great wolf loped over, making an effort not to trip over the rocks and fallen slabs of stones with human inscriptions written all over the front. He paused behind Lilith, probably coming in at a bad time. He frowned when he saw Volta; whether it was mistrust or unnecessary jealousy, Cujo would never admit. Without a word, Cujo leaned back into a sit and eyed the other wolf cautiously.
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Post by Volta on Sept 26, 2008 21:58:57 GMT -5
Something in this she-wolf fascinated Volta. He sensed in her the potential for… The end of the sentence eluded him, wriggling just out of reach, tunneling deeper whenever he moved to seize it. Violence? Part of him snickered and writhed at the thought, eager to bury its muzzle in warmth and gore—it snarled and was gone before he could recognize it. Dominion? Over what? Those who hungered for power were never satisfied; their eternal scheming bored him, or else reminded the wanderer too much of his brain’s own twisted logic. Independence? Nonsense; while the term once meant everything to him—glass cages and knifelike streaks of light, the smell of drugs—those days had died in him and he had been a free wolf for too long to recall their sting. Chaos was the closest word Volta could settle on—a two-syllable symbol of what lay beneath the stitches, biding its time.
Her smile, something whispered to him in a voice like poetry. It will too easily twist in a grimace. The rictus of death… Coming back into himself, the piebald wolf realized that his guest had turned just such a smile on him. She’d awarded his question with enough worth to bother answering it. Volta tilted his head at her expectantly, and took her straightforward answer without comment. His only acknowledgement was to tuck his tail between his legs for and craned his neck to the side momentarily—a gesture of respect hinted (but only hinted) at vulnerability in the presence of authority. Settling back into his original, more relaxed position, the wolf twitched his nose at her next words. “My kingdom is not one to be desired, however.” Oh? he thought, startled at this confession. It did not seem to fit the mouth who spoke it. He might have moved to question her, but the distracted look that came into her eyes made him pause. Volta did nothing to disturb his guest until her eyes found his again. While he appeared almost comfortable in her company, her proposal (if he could consider it such a thing; perhaps she meant as nothing more than a statement of intent) made the fur along his back ripple. For an instant his spine quivered like a hill of long grass whipped by the wind. His eyes, though, betrayed nothing.
“A noble endeavor,” he said, suddenly aware that these were the first words he had uttered since she’d explained herself to him. “If I may ask, what drives your paws? To what cause do you owe that smile?” The last of that sentence trailed as it left his jaws; the harlequin male spotted movement—some creature rapidly approaching them. When Lilith refrained from alarm he did the same, remaining seated and almost aloof. When the other wolf (he could have been no other beast, though the size and heft of him suggested that a bit of imagination had gone into his crafting) had settled—like a king, so close to the cloud-cast lady, something muttered—Volta nodded curtly to him and let his ears fall back politely. Part of him wished to detail the conversation, and to introduce himself, but he feared to speak ahead of Lilith.
Respectful silence proved to be his refuge for now.
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Ios
Newcomer
Cynical Spite
Posts: 43
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Post by Ios on Oct 4, 2008 20:51:33 GMT -5
……WHERE ALL ROADS END……
Thin shoulders rolled back and forth as a nimble creature moved her way through the underbrush outlining the crumbling ruins of man from so long ago. Each step in the moist earth left little trace of the she-wolf that had been there but it left its mark upon her staining white paws a rich sienna. This is where it had lead her, the end of all roads, when the roads of trees and rivers gave way to those of men, the thought of stepping foot upon such a dead hollow place made her spine twinge. The signs of nature trying to reclaim what was once hers only made the place seem all the more false. And yet even in a place like this a wolf as secretive as she could be found, and it seemed she was not alone.
Insipid gold eyes stared suspiciously at the three that conversed so easily in the foregrounds of man. Carefully stepping over every fallen twig, every misplaced stone, the she wolf slunk her way to the very edge of the forest shade, her coal pelt aiding her in her off-handed spying.
((Hi everyone~! Sorry its not done yet but I did promise I'd post by the weekend X3 I should be done here soon Omg sorry babe I've been juggling school among other things and not to metion trying to think of what else to put here BUT I CANT THINK OF ANYTHING! D: So I guess Im done which is so lame, sorry its terrible, hopefully I'll be more inspired in the next post :/ ))
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Post by Lilith on Oct 12, 2008 10:31:51 GMT -5
...but be the serpent under it.
Lilith narrowed her silver eyes at Volta, but quickly relaxed. She pulled her lips back into what looked like a warm smile. She shrugged. "It is nothing, my friend." She watched the male's expression as he watched something behind her. She turned her ears back as the sound of heavy footfalls met them. She smiled again and turned her head to see her mate plodding towards them.
{Status; Incomplete.}
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