Gathering in the Dark

Subject: Gathering in the Dark Thu Jul 16, 2009 1:32 pm

Darkness slipped across the sky with greedy fingers and hungry eyes, devouring the light of day with the violence of a beast, chasing the ball of fire from the world, bruised and crimson, until the cool façade of night crept across earth’s surface silently, cruel shadows shifting beneath the tangled snarl of wild foliage and fringed sycamores that chased the last ebbing rays of the dying sun back to its midnight grave. The crisp air grew heavy, scented with unclean blood and decomposing flesh. The hyenas of the night, the sadistic and feral, fought amongst themselves in vanity and pride, bickering and boasting like the uncivilized beasts they were. Between these gatherings of wanderers and trouble makers wove a lean figure, pale beneath the pallor of silver spilling moonlight set free from the clouds, slinked amidst the teeming soiree of feral demons. With shadowed stealth, with perpetual calm, and the smooth rolling strides of flexing sinew and toned muscle, the lithe muscular figure moved with a feline’s elegant swagger, a sleuth predator hunting in the still hours of dark.

In these lands of struggle and starvation, time was being thrown away. Tossed aside like the remnants of a poorly constructed and long forgotten meal, these savage souls lived every night as if it were their last, because it very well might be. The time promised to them had been stripped from their bones, and they silently waited, impatient and restless, for the heart in their chest to cease its’ painful rhythm. In the territories of the rich, it was not much better. Perhaps you could find a meal, but there was no one to share it with. Lost within their own minds, the individual fell to the ways of betrayal and shame, eventually finding their way here as a means of forgetting what wrong had been done to them in those lands that offered false promise. Fire and Ice was falling, rotting from the inside out with selfish leaders and wolves that couldn’t be trusted. Where was the honor? The justice? Had it all been forgotten? Thrown away like the garbage that had been thrown in these very lands of trepidation and turmoil? Where was the compassion felt between pack mates, and where was the trust? Lost in the black souls of kings and queens with greedy jaws and in the hearts of forlorn children? Waste.

A low hiss escaped the jaws of our figure, silver eyes burning through the darkness with a fury unmatched by any nearby rouge. Kissers pulled back to reveal dull and yellowed teeth, worn and stained from the years of life that seemed to have been wasted. Spitting upon the ground, the feline canine moved forward, turning her gaze back to her path. Something must be changed; a link in the evolution of this broken circle of death and destruction must be removed, but no one else was willing to step up and take the responsibility. No one wanted to become the source of more pain and torment, even if it was for the betterment of these lands that Loki, perhaps even Fenris had forsaken. Give me your soul, I’ll give you peace.

Slipping through the shadows cast by the clouds above, this unknown mistress slipped through the night unprovoked. Few stopped her anymore; those who bore scars spread her message to others who did not know: ‘Leave me be, you worthless waste of a wolf! You mongrel vagabond!’ Snarling and sneering, she marked them with her jaws, she tore them with her talons and beaten, defeated, they ran into the depths that they came from, tail tucked and skin seeping at the seams. Confident in her dominance over these flea-bitten scavengers, the woman moved effortlessly through their ranks, earning a well-deserved nod from a few, from others receiving nothing at all but the burning hate that smothered their soul. She was not the only one here that commanded respect and tolerance. She was aware of a group that lingered in these lands, forming a loose knit society of family and friends. Never did she seek out these wolves, she merely flitted about their borders like a ghost, peeking in and slipping out whenever she pleased without trying to draw too much attention. There were some that looked interesting enough, but sometimes being alone was more convenient. Nares to the barren earth, she searched for them now, assuring herself that they hadn’t found the interest in tracking her down. Confrontation was little these days, but even she couldn’t match a pack of seven, ten, or perhaps even more. No one was willing to offer the information she needed.

Reclining upon a small incline, the old wolfess looked about her with mild, but chilling, interest. She would shake life into the territories of Fire and Ice, leading a vigilante group of nobodies with nothing more to do than sit and plan destruction. No, not destruction. Renovation. Fall, fall into the ashes so that you may rise again in the full glory you so deserve. Leave this life of chaos behind you. But where to start? Dial tilted downward slightly, looking down her slim nose at the heretics. Were they worth her time and effort? After all, she could not do this alone. Kissers raised to show just the tips of her canines; the look of disdain. It would take great time and much effort, but perhaps the prize was just worth it at the end.

OOC// Officially open and ready for business.

Subject: Re: Gathering in the Dark Thu Jul 16, 2009 2:03 pm

She hadn't belonged there. It was too grey of an area for her dark heart. So shortly after the chaos consumed she left Hamara. It was for their own good. She would have had a difficult time bowing to another...it just wasn't in her genes. So here she was, a shade floating across the barren waste...looking for something. She felt the tug on her heart and cursed softly. "Damn you Jinx." It was happening less often but it was still there. It was a small comfort to know that her sister was still alive but she still felt that her twin ruined her life. She left because she loved Jinx and didn't want her to suffer in darkness when she was plainly light...but hated her at the same time for leaving and costing Minx her own future in the pack as future queen. She couldn't have let her go alone. She loved her sister. Then there was the fight and Minx couldn't return home. Grandfather's anger and what he would do kept her from it, no matter that she was his favorite.

She set her pace and continued on into the eveloping darkness. The scent of rotten flesh came to her nares and the squabbling voices of the rouges of this land. Head up she looked down her nose at them in disdain. Fithy, rotten, mongers. Lucky for Minx she had never had to stoop to the level of decaying flesh. She was skirting the turmoil when a flea bitten male caught sight and turned toward her, malicious intent in his eyes. She stopped and turned toward him molten eyes challenging as she slipped her daggers from their sheaths. This had happened before. Filthy, unworthy, vile beasts. Who did they think they were daring to try and touch royalty? The bru saw her challange and turned back to the squabble. She was more of a challange then his loins thought was worth.

Daggers neatly in place she flicked her tail and moved forward. A familiar scent came to her nares. She stopped and inhaled, sorting out from all the unkempt and rotted flesh. It was familial...but who? It wasn't someone who resided at home but she knew the scent. Her mind was whirling as she followed the smell. A small breeze brought fresh spore to her and she looked upon a small rise in the terra. Ebony ears flicked forward. She knew this wolf and she let her dulcet tones loose.

"Aunt Havoc?"

Subject: Re: Gathering in the Dark Fri Jul 17, 2009 6:47 pm

melusina.jpg picture by megan_starr9
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Mmmmm... so good to be back. It's too bad that I'm flying solo this time.

Golden gems glowed fiercely in the darkness, the shifting shades of her luxurious pelt so like their shadowed surroundings that they almost appeared disembodied. Slinking down, she moved in an almost serpentine manner, which one would know as a truly apt description had they ever the misfortune to see within her twisted interior. Impossible as such a thing was, it did not take much to see that beneath this fem's surface lurked a deceptive and conniving mind, for the fatale looked about her in a manner that displayed such a plotting frame of thought. Every glance assessed her surroundings, figuring a way to make it fit her plans, to make it work towards her gain and no one else's.

From the view which she now took in, however, her eyes narrowed in disgust. The rabble before her was a far cry from what she was expecting, for the last time she had approached these lands, the organization had been at least bearable. Nothing, of course, could top the Caligae as far as discipline and skill, but they had been mediocre. This was barbaric, and she wrinkled her nose in response, turning to depart. However, one last glance back made her stop, and her ears pricked with newfound interest. Perhaps this was not so hopeless after all.

Her merciless, molten gaze had fallen upon the leader of this group, for she could tell at once that this was the post this fem had claimed. Set apart from the others, she held an aura of authority and power that showed her rank clearly. Perhaps it was her careless distaste of her followers that set her apart. That was not what made Mel stop, however. It was her eyes. Her frigid, intense silver orbs reminded her so much of her Commander's that she had to check this out. It was true that she held little respect for Atrix, but that little set him apart from the rest of the world, which she scorned for it's weakness and chaos.

A prime example here, she thought, stalking down the slope and into the border of the group. Slowly a lip lifted, revealing ivory canines. Let one of them approach her. Crimson was a much better color than white, and she relished in the thought of wetting her mouth with their blood. True, it would be dirty, but she had killed worse. None approached her, however, her eyes dangerously surveying them. Perhaps it was her stance, honed from puphood for one purpose and one alone... death. It was the carriage of a warrior, an assassin, and she bore it better than most. It was really too bad that Dante had become weak, turned to a sniveling pure by his sorry excuse of a sister. Both were a disgrace to their blood and their family. Melusina was embarassed that she shared their blood, and Daes as well. And Dante had been so delightfully demonic, too, when they had first come upon these lands in their training days. He had even murdered an alphaess. Atrix had praised him for that, Melusina knew, though to hear him tell of it, it had not taken much skill. She wondered how the lands fared now, and how her temporary home, Jabbar, was holding up. She hardly cared enough to find out, though.

Her mission here was simple enough. Yet she found herself sidetracked, intrigued as to why such a fem would be wasting her time in a place like this. Well, no time like the present. It seemed that she was not the only who was approaching the strange fem, however, for another walked up beside her. Melusina's lip twitched with amusement as she saw that her companion also had a wide berth around her, her challenging eyes causing the surrounding brus to back off. Hmm, seemed these two were family, judging from the approaching fatale's greeting. So her name was Havoc. How... appropriate.

Diplomat that Melusina was, she knew her way around an introduction, and her ability to veil her emotions was as natural to her as breathing. Knowing that pride was often frowned upon when making first impressions with a leading figure, she lowered her head, pose changing from challenging to respectful in the blink of an eye. She would wait for the familial greetings to finish before she herself spoke, an uncommon stroke of manners on her part. She did not want to mess this up. It would fit nicely with her plans, and would not hurt her goal here either.

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Subject: Re: Gathering in the Dark Tue Jul 21, 2009 2:26 pm

It was still hours before dawn, but the desert was illuminated by the clear sky above, every star a path, and the moon the inevitable destiny we all must face. The shadows were one-dimensional and moved with graceful silence, slipping between the dunes with sleuth and silence despite the tension in the air. Bodies in every shape and color were scattered from horizon to horizon. Lovers, madmen, and the forgotten gathered in one large group, speaking and snarling until the silent night turned into a storm of its own. The moon was not nearly as harsh as the sun, and those who had been here long enough learned to adjust quickly. Nocturnal beings ruled the desert, turned the unforgiving sands into an oasis of resources and services. Silver eyes studied the scene, wandering over the self-righteous rouge and pitiful peon with little interest and far less care. It reminded her of other times, long ago, when she had watched other souls not so different but certainly more self-respecting.

Amused with her own thoughtful mood tonight, the woman stood and shook out her thick pelt. It had grown in quite well despite the injuries and illnesses she had sustained last fall. Torn muscle had been repaired and retrained, so that it quivered with strength and endurance under a coat of healthy obsidian. There was still a slight limp in her gait, but as time went on it was becoming less noticeable. As doubtful as she had been in the beginning, she found herself thanking the hybrid living in Jabbar for her skill and care in treating Havoc’s lame body. When the crone saw the girl again, she would have to extend another thanks. Stretching the stiffness out of her joints, Havoc turned to look at the dark horizon. She wouldn’t return to Damean’s ignorant rule; she refused. If she ever set a foot across those borders again, it would be on business and only if she couldn’t find another soul to do the work for her. Loathed those lands, she did. Untrained, unorganized wolves laying around in laziness and troubled only with solving their own individual problems; Jabbar was a joke. She loved the white betess, Akiko, as she loved her own sisters, it was true, but Havoc could not stand idly by and watch the chaos any longer. Akiko may not forgive her, but the old woman could live with that knowing that she was doing all she could for the white female’s benefit.

Tossing aside the thought, she put her grayed nose to the loose soil once more, searching for a previous trail. She was acutely aware of how close she was traveling to Despair’s group. The other scents were mingled and unrecognizable, but the delicious smoky flavor of Despair’s skin was all too familiar to her. If she came across him now, she would have no way of explaining to him why she was not still residing in Jabbar. Of course, she could ask him the same question but as a general rule, you didn’t question those who had muscle to back up any claim they made. She didn’t remember Despair as the forceful sort, but before now she had no reason to think of him as an enemy rather than as a friend. Perhaps a compromise could be made...

Her hackles raised when she detected someone too close, crossing that invisible line that few dared to pass anymore. With a snarl, she turned on the shadow behind her, daggers bared and bodice already launched in the air. The sound of two bodies colliding was muffled by the sand, but there was nothing to stop the sharp clip of jaws snapping together like a steel trap. With immense grace and ease one wouldn’t think possible for a wolf of her age and stature, she had turned her body ever so slightly mid-jump, knocking the intruder to the ground with her shoulder, then neatly side-stepped to contain their writhing form beneath her massive body. The words that escaped their tongue weren’t what she was expecting, however. “Aunt Havoc?” Startled, the woman sheathed her knives and let her silver eyes study the familiar face staring back at her. “Minx!” Coarse with shouting orders across battlefields, the surprise and affection in her voice was clouded with a thick harshness. “Child, what are you doing here?” Stepping back, she helped her niece to her four, jaws tugging on her scruff with a gentleness rarely seen of the woman. “Answer me quickly, girl. I haven’t the time to play games.” Her voice was rough and irritated, eyes hard and cold, but there was a slight tilt in her jowls, a small smile that spoke of an affection never lost in time. Minx had lived with her long ago, farther back then she would like to remember. She studied the wolfess carefully, noting how much she had changed in the few years they had been apart. Pride stirred her old heart but she turned away for a short moment to cast a glance around the area. Where was Jinx? She took after her mother and Beau exceptionally, what with her kinder and more virtuous ways. Havoc hadn’t judged her. Not all wolves were made to reign for chaos and destruction. Some had to keep control in a world too corrupted for its own good.

Rather than another familiar face, she caught the eyes of a stranger perhaps paying too much attention to the women. A low hiss passed her larynx, but she turned her attention back to Minx, merely keeping the stranger in view. It made her skin crawl, the wolves of this land. Irritated, she chided her niece half-heartedly, one eye trained on Melusina as if trying to place her. She had little doubt she may have seen her in passing. Havoc walked the territories too frequently. “It was foolish of you to approach me so quickly, you know that. And careless! Are you aware of your worth to these vile beasts?” She snarled, nipping the girl’s nose in reprimand while she cast another cool look in Melusina’s direction. She was still there.

Dipping her nares to Minx’s shoulder, she gently pushed her to the side offering her full attention to the vixen at the edge of the conversation. Banner lashing behind her in annoyance, Havoc tossed a sharp greeting her way, “Is there something you need, witch?” Silver gaze trained carefully on the other’s pose, Havoc lifted her dial slightly. There would be no mistakes here about who had the respect. Tongue flicked over her dry chaps briefly, wetting them while subtly showing her teeth. It would be dangerous, invoking a fight with Minx so near. Diplomacy, as much as could be expected in this desert, would be the key to keep tensions low.

Subject: Re: Gathering in the Dark Tue Jul 21, 2009 11:27 pm

The impact of her aunt's bodice upon her was not forseen, Minx had been totally unprepared. The breath had been knocked from her and she prepared to launch a counter if she had made a mistake and the elderly fatale proved not to be her aunt. As soon as her lyrics left her lips Havoc was reprimanding her for sneaking up on her and helping her up. Yes, this was old Aunt Havoc. Minx felt annoyed and foolish that the elderly fem took her off her feet so easily. She vowed never to let it happen again. She shook her pelt and and began to answer the grizzled woman's demands. "Aunt Havoc. I have been roaming for a while now...." she paused as she saw her aunt's gaze searching for the one who had always been there but walked with Minx no longer. "Jinx isn't here." There was a bit of guilt that flooded her eyes and she looked away toward the form which had roused Havoc's hiss. "We parted ways soon after we left Grandfather's lands." Her lyrics were cold and hard remembering when she and Jinx had parted ways. It was bittersweet. Minx didn't understand why they were so different and yet so the same. And the pulling feeling in her chest that connected her to her sister was a lifeline and a curse. Golden eyes flashed with shock when Havoc gave her a dressing down once more and was nipped on the nose. Of course she knew her worth, she did not belong with the vile scum that roamed these lands. She had just been happening through to search for a better place..one where she was sure to be appreciated. She just couldn't go home. As much as she was Grandfather's favorite she would be punished for deserting her home, her place, even if it was for the love of her sister....Grandfather wouldn't understand. Minx was the shadow, Jinx was the light. Minx flinched away and licked her ebony feature, feeling a bit foolish to be disciplined like some young pup. She moved from the pressure of Havoc's nares and watched, hackles raising as she listened to the words fly from her aunt"s maw.

She looked at the fem and stood at the ready to aid her favorite Aunt if the need arised. She would finish telling Havoc the story of her being when there weren't such nosy neighbors. Minx hated eavesdroppers. She stood head high and licked her teeth, flashing a bit of ivory, echoing Havoc. If the fem was wise she would make sure her manners were intact..especially dealing with Havoc. She stepped a pace or two further away giving the dark deamon that was her family more room to strike if nessasary.

Subject: Re: Gathering in the Dark Wed Jul 22, 2009 10:19 pm

Bloodeye had traveled all the way to these desolate lands from her new home in Jabbar; however, it wasn't like she hadn't inhabited this place to begin with. She had originally come here when a supposed 'great leader' had riled up a band of rogues, but she hadn't stuck around long. Nothing but a power hungry mongrel, she had been. Bloodeye didn't even care to remember her name. But, she was interested to know if any of the rogues still resided here, and if they were up for a little trouble-making challenge.

Striding through the dusty lands, she came over a particularly large dune to look down upon a teeny gathering of wolves. A couple seemed to be squabbling before recognition kicked in, and then they turned upon another wolf who had joined them. It seemed the duo still awaited upon the seated wolfess' words. Well, she might as well join in the introductions, and she looked over her shoulder to see if Zaiaku was still with her. He had agreed to come, seeming eager to find out what would happen next, and strangely drawn to her, like she to him. She gave him a few moments to catch up and take in the scene, then set forward at her own pace.

Coming nearer to the trio below, she noticed something familiar about the dark, elderly female. Had the older woman been a part of Damean's pack for a short time as well? She could have sworn she'd seen her, but only very briefly. Either way it didn't matter, she was neither on good nor bad terms with the femme, it all depended upon this meeting. She trotted closer to the group, giving the smallest of howls to announce her arrival, then seated herself at a comfortable distance so she would be no threat, and would not interrupt whatever conversation had already begun. Scarlet orbs quickly surveyed the femmes before her, wondering about each of their strengths and assets, and if they would be interested in such an endeavor as the takeover of Jabbar.

Subject: Re: Gathering in the Dark Thu Jul 23, 2009 7:41 pm

The lone lands, it wasn't his first time being there either. Having traveled through the desolate place, in order to reach Jabbar. Which had been hours ago, something he had just come to realize. All that had occured had been within the time span of a few short hours. His arrival, meeting with Jaded. The on to Akira, only to stop before an interesting fem. Naturally, her beauty caught him. It was more then that though, she was as smart as she was beautiful. It amused Zaiaku to think that a deadly combination, and he let a smirk dance across his maw. The plan of taking over Jabbar had happened quickly, and seemingly out of nowhere. He had been curious, if anyone of the wolves had noticed his own disappearence. It would be simple to think he left because he cared nothing for the land, and would rather be elsewhere. But his companion must be different, she had been in the lands for longer then he. Much longer then himself.

Ah. To return to the land he had previously tredded on, and for only a short while. He could recall these parts, but it didn't matter to much. Mitts carried him along side Bloodeye, blue hues occationally drinking in her frame. How could he have happened upon such a fem? For him, her looks were enough to capture his attention. But her mind seemed to fill him with want, the fact that she had approached him with such an offer. It was easy to pick him though, for he was not loyal to the pack yet. Zai himself would've done the same, had he been in such a situation. He padded up next to her, lanterns moving about the scene below aswell. Three more vixens, having their own issues. A smirk, and the nothing once again. They were about to receive even more things to bark about. Three vixen. He held no doubt of their strength, but would four fems an one bruja be enough? Doubt was not in his mind, only logic.

Blue lanterns followed Bloodeye's frame as she descended, before slowly following after her. She was smart, and he knew she must be strong. Two down, now what of the three faes. From his guess, they weren't weak. He knew these lands were not for the weak. Zaiaku seated himself next to Bloodeye, smirking a little. He felt like her bodyguard more then anything, though he doubt she would need such a thing. Confusion of emotions still filled him, and still disgusted him. As far as he was concerned, he was just another conspirator. It had been to short of a time, to really develope anything for the vix next to him. There was interest, but that was it. Orbs averted from her finally, and returned to the other three. So much in so short of a time, what would they think of everything. He smirked again, which seemed to become a trademark now. Everything was happening fast, but it depended on them now.

Subject: Re: Gathering in the Dark Thu Jul 23, 2009 10:41 pm

melusina.jpg picture by megan_starr9
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Still as an ebonite stone, Melusina watched the exchange of blows impassively. Familial ties.... such strange things these were. Sometimes they made one weak, yet more often, it was these blood bindings that brought together packs, and all wolves knew that the larger the pack, the stronger it was. Her own 'family' was an example to that end. No, it was not loyalty that caused problems... it was affection. Therein lay the true downfall of the wolven race. For to grow attached was to become biased, and in the hands of a worthy opponent, such bias would prove a most useful weapon, ultimately leading to demise.

Finally the two had finished, however, and such thoughts were shaken from her as their attention was trained upon herself. Now things were to get interesting. She was treading dangerous territory here, but obviously she was halfway in. They were not leaping at her throat, a most hopeful omen.

Her auds twitched back as a howl rang out suddenly behind her, quiet yet still distracting. Waiting for this to clear, she stood, lowering her head. Her expression remained carefully guarded, however, neutral in all aspects. Aiming flat golden eyes at the femorah who had adressed her, she tipped her head even further, then stood straight, tail remaining low, however, in the assumed position. She was subordinate here, that much she knew. Pride she had, but thankfully reason and wit was also on her side.

'Is there something you need, witch?' The fem had a temper like her own dear mother. Luckily Mel was used to dealing with such congenial natures, and kept her tone polite, no anger or irritation staining her pitch. "Greetings, milady. Havoc, is it? My calling is Melusina. I would not call my request a need, more of a desire. I simply wish to be given the chance to join this," She gestured with her tail, "whatever it may be."
Short and to the point. She had never really been one to mince words, and this fem seemed an impatient sort. Luckily, Melusina was the opposite. Though most snakelike internally, she did not strike right away, hoping to hit her mark. Her way was that of a cat.... stalk, patiently moving bit by bit, until she was close enough to her goal that it's escape was impossible. Small steps, though this was larger than most. She knew an opportunity when she saw it.

It seemed that others had found the gathering to their interest, also. Melusina saw out of the corner of her eye a duo, hessian and fem, waiting their turn. The bru seemed to constantly have the same smirk pasted on his face. The amusement that he found in this sorry group was beyond her, but he would probably do well to keep his thoughts in check when addressing Havoc. Such amusment could easily be misconstrued as an insult. Then again, the fight that followed might be quite amusing. Such things so often were.

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Subject: Re: Gathering in the Dark Tue Jul 28, 2009 6:34 pm

The land of the damned and dangerous had never been so entertaining and delightful, always the lands of doom, gloom, and gore, it spread out like the cotton sheets of an adolescent child, torn and tattered with anger, stained with blood, sweat, and tears only to show the worn spots like blemish on the shifting sands. Under the hunter’s moon, it hissed and came alive, the fire starting at the edges and working its way to the center. Fire licked at furious tears, soothed the abandonment and invoked dangerous ambition. Blood boiling and skin crawling, the woman dressed in ebony and gray cast a glance to the star-strewn sky, brandishing a wickedly amused grin while all the tempted to shout thanks for Fenrir’s slight reward for her working in His name. Never the faithful child of gods and war heroes, she then quickly hastened to the project at hand. Eyes, so cold and carelessly cruel, touched every soul in this lovely gathering of deceit, arrogance, and curiosity with slight amusement and growing thoughtfulness. Across the desert she could hear the chorus of the banished and blamed, the notes falling on the high, lonely bars for a few seconds before another restless soul would join in bass, low and hissing like a writhing serpent, poised and ready to strike the heart with a poison too sweet to be resisted. Lips pressed to the glass gingerly, each soul fell upon their own greed, laying out like the worthless wares that they were, ready to be sharpened and shaped into the perfect toy soldiers of a far more cunning raptor. Whispers in her ears, accelerants for the malevolent heart, loosened the tightly trained follower until all knots were severed.
Garnished with a new hunger teasing her lips, Havoc cast a glance to her niece- lithe and lean, subtle and sleuth-and wondered if she had received training before her departure. Trieansti, despite his arrogant nature, had been quite wise, insisting all be properly trained by the age of two, and providing for the pack by the age of three. Doubtful anything had changed, but eager to cover the bases, she gave a simple nod to the child, the child in her eyes a priceless extension of herself. The news of Jinx was sobering, though there was a silent part of the woman’s attentive soul that was not surprised. There was a deep restlessness in their lines, particularly in those that were born of a higher morale. Beau, her sister and closest confident, had once been unbearable-intolerant under the dark shadow of cynical minds. The twins, however close they may have been, perhaps saw the same disheartening end. Lips pursed, jaws tight under the soft skin that lingered there. “Many things can change in a few short years; perhaps you would be interested in an enlightening conversation at a later date?” Rough, calloused with too many years on the battlefield, her voice slipped over her tongue with an air of quiet possession that hid in the deep tones and polite formalities, slipping like smoke into the sultry air. Parental protection and tedious lies danced among her memories, carefully categorizing a new set to which tell her niece. She was adored by her family, perhaps it would be better to let her see them as the heroes they were said to be, and keep the monsters chained in the closet-particularly Trieansti. The muscle gracing her jaw line tightened noticeably into a grimace, and then melted away into the familiar, cool complacent mask of chilling amusement.

Melusina never escaped her mind or eye, but lingered at the edge of the crone’s consciousness like a fox, stepping to the beat of a very dangerous game-though well-played on her part. The irritation and unsettlement faded, leaving the tense muscles in her feline fame loose and lax to straighten her spine and shoulders until her stalking prowl lifted into a less threatening stance. She would listen to what she had to say, a sweet curiosity tickling the growing, greedy desire deep in the heart of Havoc. What mind lurked behind such a deliciously golden-defensively guarded but confidently direct- gaze? In all logical aspects, this could be a waste of her time, the precious subject ticking by while chaos grew and gained territory over the land of Fire and Ice. But, Fenris had been kind to her, delivering such valuable souls to her selfless, though disastrous cause, and because of that a small window into Havoc’s world opened, and all the terrible contents laid out before their growing gathering in a pattern of seething anger and beloved affections.

The new couple at the farthest edge of this distorted circle was also noticed, though the cruel shine of her moonstone optics lingered longer than necessary on the female, stroking the familiar figure with slight recollection. Havoc’s lip curled over her right canine, Cheshire grin seeping from the cracks of her imperfect mask of indifference. My, how interesting this night was becoming. Locking her eyes with the other woman, Havoc took a single step in that direction almost tempted to leave the sly fox in her hindsight for the moment. The Queen of Hearts, hanging on the arm of a black nine, and with her army of cards lost to sight? Her memories of Fathom were fogged, dimed by short visits and long years of travel, but she clearly remembered one of her dearest friends, Brutal, and her established pack-Deadly Nightshade. Hadn’t she met this empress, this queen in red, there on the neutral grounds of alliance however brief the exchange? But she walked Fire and Ice now, and that interested the old woman far more than a well-played game of cat and mouse. Had she joined the reign under the King of Jokers? While in Jubbar, had she mistaken a seething and sulking demon for a known and respected Queen of long ago? Thoughtful and undecided, she let her reluctant gaze turn to the male, and quickly regretted it. He hung at the scarlet woman’s shoulder like a jackal, smirking as if there was a joke he felt too selfish to divulge. Unable to halt the twist of her kissers into a smouldering snarl, the prowling huntress turned sharply away from his leering, ugly face with a short clip of her jaws, threat hanging at the back of her throat. “I’ll be with you shortly. A moment, if you please.”

Still burning and writhing under her India ink and ash-touched silks, the woman hissed in impatience while Melusina, the fox in the waiting wings, saved her voice for the quiet air. She spoke swiftly, and kept her breath of noise short, a very clever move to make. Impatience and irritation soothed in slight, Havoc thought over the request curiously and studied the woman, her hidden motives and careful guard. She could be useful, but in what way? Was she the disposable pawn or the careful, deceitful rook? Reclining upon her base, the crone pulled her tassel around her front pistons, tapping at the loose sand with silent thought, ticking off pro’s and con’s until at last she turned her head slightly, letting her voice lash at the ears of her niece. “Minx, come here please.” Back turned on the younger female, she did not bother to rouse herself and turn to inspect the distance between them. Controlling the situation with cautious but dominating steps, she moved the four souls on her colorful board to her leisure and comfort. “I hunted early this morning, the carcass is cached there,” Her dial motioned to the outcrop a few yards away, “Treat yourself, dear niece, and our visitor to a meal. We will speak of the more pressing concerns of your involvement after I tend to this pair, Melusina.” Lips pressed gently to the brow of the young woman as she passed into their circle, hidden words whispered for only Minx to hear. “Invoke a useful conversation for me, please.” Sending her niece to spy on a stranger was a dangerous move, but they would be watched carefully from the corner of Havoc’s sight. She allowed a short time for them to slip from the circle, then beckoned Bloodeye and her companion with a tilt upward of her jaw.

Subject: Re: Gathering in the Dark Tue Jul 28, 2009 10:59 pm

Minx gave her aunt a curt and formal nod as she heard Havoc's lyrics requesting a word later. She would have never spoke more than she had in the presence of these strangers. Grandfather taught her better. She held her dial high and looked upon the minions with an indifferent aire. These three weren't your typical scum that you found scurrying around these lands like the vermin they were. They had a more well tended fascade to their appearences and manners of a sort. Obsidan auds flicked forward as she heard the approach of a pair and her molten eyes echoed her aunts as the pairs image appeared in them. A white vix with her dark knight in tow, what maliciousness seemed to lay behind his eyes. Minx's eyes narrowed slightly at his smirk and then relaxed. The dark bru was a wicked one that was plain to see. Her nose twitched ever so slightly. He would learn to obey, else Havoc would have something to say about it. One thing Minx knew was to never underestemate her aunt. Her form may look elderly and grizzled but she was power. Her gaze then fell on his companion and then back to Melusina. That fem reminded her of a snake. One that lay in wait for the right moment to strike. Interesting....she mused.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Havoc's call and she padded over to her at once, her ebony pillars and ashy coat floating as she moved. She nodded at her Aunt's gift and paused auds catching the slightest words as Havoc pressed her lips to her brow. She knew what it meant and responded with a smile and a "Thank you Havoc." Before looking at Melusina and parting her lips with innocent honeyed lyrics. "Come Melusina, let us fill our bellies." Black velvet paws moved off into the night toward the carcass and out of the informal gathering of wolven. Keen nose soon found where the food was cached and it was a welcome meal.
She looked at Melusina and then went to work on the carcass. Meat delcious on her tastebuds and her belly warmed by the sustaining food. She paused in her eating and asked casually. "Where are you from Melusina and what is your story? I haven't seen many of your caliber here in these lands. Most are the scrawny vermin that barely eek out a living." She was genuinely interested, she had to be to follow Havoc's orders. She licked her maw in all casualness and watched the fatale with interest. Minx had age on her side and a look of innocence but looks are decieving. Her belly was satisfied but not full as she awaited the words of her companion. She never ate until she was full, Grandfather's rules. If you were too full how could you fight properly? She thought fondly of Grandfather, the menacing figure who seemed to have softened just for her. But that didn't soften his training...he worked her harder for it. Her thought flitted on that tangent for a moment while she waited on Melusina's words. Fate brought her here and fate brought Aunt Havoc back into her life. Something was in store...something big.

Subject: Re: Gathering in the Dark Wed Jul 29, 2009 6:18 pm

melusina.jpg picture by megan_starr9
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Havoc seemed impatient, and it was slightly amusing to see the fem give way to such a trivial emotion. It was impatience that led to haste, which gave way to mistakes. It was one of the first lessons which she had learned as a pup, forced to sit for hours in complete silence and stillness, a punishment for the haste of youth. While inopportune most of the time, however, her mood did give Melusina another step up, though. Havoc appeared less irritated after her own short response, and Mel knew that ever move that she would make in the coming times would be assessed carefully. She appeared a wiley demoness, those fathomless silver eyes concealing years of experience with deciet and conflict. One thing was for sure, though... Melusina was not going to make her reading an easy one. No wolf had ever succeeded in fully figuring her out, and she wished to keep it that way. This was why she was here. She was the best.

She was not in yet, but it was close enough. She did not relax her guard, merely dipped her head in thanks. Silken lyrics showed no emotion, merely acknowleding. "Thank you." She was hardly hungry, but partook anyway, tearing off a small section. As she did so, her mind ran over her position. She couldn't believe how easy this was going. Of course, she wasn't going to start counting her chickens, but still, she was enjoying a small measure of victory in her accomplishment. Even if this fell through, however, there were countless backup plots running through her mind. She knew that at least one other pack would be easy to enter... Hamara. Dante had slain their alphaess on their last venture here, but Mel had not been seen on those lands. They were weak, of course, for packs such as that one relied on their leaders. Ha. That was a call for trouble, depending on a single wolf to keep a pack running smoothly. True, the Caligae had their Commander, but Atrix held the loyalty of his followers out of strength alone. As soon as he grew weak, another would be at his throat, ready to take the title themselves.

Minx broke her reverie, however, and forced her eyes to once more travel over the dark-hued fem who had accompanied her. This time her look was somewhat calculating. It only lasted a split second, however, barely visible. Then she was back to her carefully guarded self. This vix was curious... a bit too much so. Mel had little desire to talk about her past, and an even smaller willingness to discuss it with Minx. However, she would keep a civil tongue. Minx was family to Havoc, and therefore enjoyed a certain privelidged place here, as far as Melusina could tell. There was definitally affection between the two of them.

"My story is hardly interesting," she said, smiling slighly. "And I come from a pack to the east. There isn't much to tell about it other than it wasn't really a satisfactory environment for one such as myself. I require a more interesting atmosphere than that which they provided." She brushed it off, then grasped her turn. "As to the question of why I am here, I could ask you the same thing. I myself am intrigued, and I know that your Aunt is here, but neither of you seem the type to be dealing with such low beasts as these." Melusina herself had associated with such brutish creatures herself, but mostly it was on a purely militant front. Much of the Caligae training was made up of fighting and, much of the time, killing disorganized loners such as these.

Her motives in asking these questions of Minx, however, were not purely for curiosity's sake. She had a similar goal... information. She wanted a reading on Minx, and perhaps, after gaining such an insight, she would be able to see more of Havoc as well. Information was equal to power in situations such as this.

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Subject: Re: Gathering in the Dark Wed Jul 29, 2009 6:51 pm

Obsidian auds flicked forward and she gave the appearance of genuine interest. The words that were caught by her ears were ones of casual dismissal. The vix before Minx didn't want to share her past. That was okay, she knew how to play these games. Grandfather had taught her well. She smiled at Melusina's question and the lie slipped off her tongue with effortless ease. "Training. These rougues and fleabags make for interesting opponants at times." She smiled. This fem was more than she appeared to be also...Minx thought. Havoc would find this information interesting. Although would this fem be benificial or be one of those power hungry vermin that will take when the time is right. Alot of darks are that way...a constant fight to be on the top.

She licked her maw. "East huh? I have never been east." she said using her innocent guile. "What is it like out there?" Her body language was curious. She was a young wolf and hopefully Melusina would thing she was naive, which was far from the truth. She played her age as a strength. She hoped Aunt Havoc was making headway with the pair that showed. The male with malice in his eyes made her wonder what his intent was. She looked back at Melusina hopefully.

Subject: Re: Gathering in the Dark Sun Aug 02, 2009 11:51 pm

In her wake she had left only confusion. Her lithe
paws left little imprint on the sand dunes that she now traversed. The stale wind bit at her nose and made her mouth dry. She had little tolerance for the heat when she was here before and nothing had changed. Casting her gaze about she saw that this land was as desolate as ever. Glancing behind herself to her companion she motioned him forward and picked up the pace. Despite the empty wasteland there had been recent activity here. Lengthening her stride she kept up a brisk walk. Tassle lashed and the wind whipped her reddish fur, embedding sand into it as it went. An added annoyance
to this place. "If the rumors have flown true then we shall soon be there." She stated in a plain voice. Last time she had found a large party here it had been Sephiroth and she long since had dismissed him from her mind.
****
Soon enough there they were, a gathering of wolves in a rouge place. Something that was not unheard of but unusual. Coming to a halt in a few yards a way her tongue slid from its cavity and licked her chapped lips. "Are we interrupting?" Her lyrics were smooth and her face was flat except the slight glint of amusement shone in her cool hues.

Subject: Re: Gathering in the Dark Mon Aug 03, 2009 12:43 am

"Now now, lets not be bothersome" he said with a quaint grin on his muzzle. He took a few small steps foward and held his crown high as if he considered himself equals with the newly aquainted rouges. "My name is Ace" as he bowed his head in respect. "And this is my companion Tourniquet." He turned his head as if to present the femme to the audience. He then proceeded to sit down on the dry soil, during which the joints in his haunches popped and cracked like a fire, making the hair on his spine stand on end."So the rumor of a rouge encampment prove to be much more valid than we had first perceived."

Subject: Re: Gathering in the Dark Tue Aug 04, 2009 11:26 pm

melusina.jpg picture by megan_starr9
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The vix did not push her for information, a wise move. Small pink tongue shot out, cleaning the last vestiges of gore from her jaws, before she sat down, taking her ease, silver-flecked tassle tucked lightly about her paws. Much like a cat, she lifted one paw daintily, cleaning it with care. It was as much a habit as a way of stalling, a surreptitious way of putting off her own answer. She could form lies in an instant, another trait of her upbringing, but this situation called for a level of care that was as of yet unnecessary. She had to tread softly here, otherwise the ripples that she caused could betray her true intentions. To give such a gathering of vipers any clue at her purpose would be to ruin everything, and this would not be forgiven. She had missed her mark only a few times before, but this mistake would likely be her last.

Finishing her thought process, she lowered her paw slowly, placing it softly upon the soil before turning her attention back to Minx. She nodded, as though taking note of the fem's story, though the explanation was hardly of interest to her. It was more the fact that she too had dodged around the answer, keeping details hidden and her answer vague. This dance of words would likely get tiring soon, and Mel was quickly getting annoyed with the pre-interview. Would she not have to answer these same questions as soon as Havoc was finished? Still, her training won out, and patience was the only thing that kept her from snapping at this fem's inquisitive nature. Such a thing would hardly be... opportune.. at the moment. Everything had a reason for happening, and for some reason, she was to get to know the niece of the lead harlot. Perhaps a useful connection, perhaps a useless one. It never hurt to try, no matter how bothersome the task. Conversing with such fems, however, always put her in a particularly nasty mood. While they were at the same age, years of fighting and warfare had increased her in age to an appearance beyond a few years.

Training? This was her purpose here? Oh, joy. So her aunt was to oversee her advancement in tactics, teach her the 'ropes', per say? Now Mel truly pitied Minx. She had long since completed her own training, and had been conquering lands since she was a pup. Her first real full-scale fight had been at age six months.... long before she had been full grown. Perhaps it was arrogance to think this, but compared to her, the fem before her was merely a whelp. Of course, not to be underestimated, but not to be feared either. Nay, her only threat came from Havoc, though Melusina's own impression of that particular fatale had also lowered considerably due to her obvious tie to Minx. Nay, if she played her hand right, this would be easy as a stroll through the woods.

"True enough, one or two would perhaps prove a worthy opponent." She glanced around, eyeing the starved, flea-bitten mob with distaste. "While others look as though one blow would be enough to put them out of their misery. A pretty sorry group, this."

"Aye, what have we here?" It was muttered, but Minx may have heard her. Two more additions. It seemed that the moths were finally coming to the light. Whether they would be burned or rewarded, that was the question.

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Subject: Re: Gathering in the Dark Thu Aug 06, 2009 9:07 pm

kill your idols Sunlight fell from the dusky, melancholy blue sky in long golden slivers; peering between a wall of soft white clouds, it beckoned a forbidden glimpse of heaven. The evening was brisk and delicious, with gentle traces of autumn reeling into view. Even the air carried with it the invigorating taste of languid coolness and the faint but mesmerizing perfume of rotting leaves, sweetly churning into the earth like a melting pot of decadent spices. This fresh taste of winter to come trickled down like cool October ale sliding down the parched throat of August. The feeling was inviting; rejuvenating; a punch of wintry ice spiking like a lance through the scalding heart of summer. From the prevailing darkness of a gloomy forest, a sleuth-looking creature shifted through the barren woods of acid white limbs; his shadow, tall and flighty, thrown like an angel’s wing beside him. There was a distinct recklessness to his quick movements, and an even disdainful expression on his face. For despite the smile that curved smugly at his soft boyish lips, there was an element of wanton mischief and danger and devilish impatience that shadowed his serious features; darkened that mysteriously cold and penetrating stare; tempered with his otherwise kind and gentle nature.

For a moment he stood tall and unmoving, with the sun falling down his form like the eyes of gods, ever so watching. He tasted the air, took in the scenery. Moved his eyes toward the distant horizon where earth strained to reach for heaven with perpetual shades of grey and noted how the mountains sloped up and down like the great back of Jonah’s whale with faint wistfulness. How the clouds languidly rolled overhead like a lazy lovers’ stroll down memory lane, the distant whistling of thrushes and sparrows, eulogizing the start of a new sunrise; the soft murmuring of the volcano, imitating a dragon in slumber resonating from behind him. Everything was set to the pace of a clock patiently ticking. The earth was slow; he could hear it breathing like a steadily throbbing vein buried deep beneath its molten core. Too slow for him, this world was. He couldn’t even rest if he tried. He couldn’t even sleep when he wanted to. As days turned to nights, and weeks turned to months, he was still there standing; a boy trapped in time; a man with a hat and a lit cigarette in one hand, swallowed by the shadowed obscurity of the night, waiting beneath the stale glow of a lonely lamppost for what seemed like an eternity, for whoever it may be. Oh, if only he could open his eyes and see; that it was he who was still sleeping; he who was still lost and fruitlessly dreaming—always from the outside dolefully looking in…

Lysander always evoked a sense of restlessness, a sense of urgency: a kindling fire that fed off pride and ambition and adventure. Harbored within his fiery spirit was a scathingly nervous energy that refused to cease; refused to be tamed; like the ecstatic quivering of a feverish bow climaxing against the harsh strings of a violin. He had the temperament of an angry musician. Quick. Fidgety. Impatient. Unpredictable. Compulsive. Stoic. Restless. A dreamer with nothing left to dream. Even his appearance reflected the very turmoil of his inner being. Whenever he moved, the long hairs along the length of his spine bristled with the play of anxious muscles underneath. Dark and swarthy, his high cheekbones were sallow, matching the complexion of his golden skin. In his relentless pursuit for knowledge and truth, his eyes glowed like sunlight dancing off the coils of a wild rattlesnake hissing to the rhythm of a desert song. His fur was wild, unkempt and disheveled, as though he’d just been kicked out of bed right after having sex, and the dirt beneath his nails had been there for days. It lent him the appearance of a gypsy: shaggy, tall, dark and sinister—the life of an orphaned stray. The faintest breath of wind was enough to lift his roguishly black locks and they whipped across his brow as though he were a twelve year old child standing above a high cliff, contemplating the mysterious depths of the deep blue sea. As he gazed out into the vast open wilderness, he suddenly realized how alone and isolated the world looked—and the small significance he played in it dawned on him as effectively as spit flying into the ocean. He could care less of the golden treasures that pompously hid beneath the crooning smiles of kings and queens. Could care less of the valiant knights and cavalries that strode in on their gallant steeds, wearing emblems of Right and Wrong; golden lions set against a flag of vibrant maroons and reds that screamed ‘god save the queen!’, versus white unicorns pressed against royal blues and silver the colour of polished tin . . .

Would you preach alongside God or shun the light to dine with Lucifer in hell?

Much like the romanticized hero of Sherwood Forest—the winsome Robinhood who stole from the rich and gave to the poor—Lysander was not weighed down by the gluttonous desire of The Ego; shackled to his self-image like the preening Narcissus who coveted the affections of none other but himself. No, he was a free man. Bound to no one but the soil he walked on that would soon recycle and consume his flesh when he should grow frail and old and dying; lover to no one but the cold midnight wind that strung icy kisses along his firm jaw and down to smooth hardness of his chest. And this sense of freedom... this simple way of living... it was his ecstasy... his drive... his sweetest revelation. Lifting his tall ears to the murmuring sigh of a breezy wind, an icy chill danced along the curve of his spine, sighed like a cold sultry whisper against the back of his neck. To his sudden inward surprise, a black feather happened to fall from the sky. Whisking over the ground, it settled like a floating ghost next to him. Moving his gaze to one side, he glimpsed the eerie sight of a large, swarthy black bird just within a length of his reach. It started to snow then, and the white crystal flakes fell down in dazzling sheets, caressing his face, touching his ears, putting a delicate cloak of silver about his firm toned shoulders. Leaning back with a soft smirk, the tall male coolly reclined into the firm trunk of a lone tree. His smile curved like a cunning shadow pulling to one side of his mouth; fleeting, thief-like. His breathing was soft, gentle, spilling from his lips like slow curling smoke. Musing aloud, the low, husky lull of his timbre voice filled the temporary silence between them… “NEVER LOOK INTO THE EYES OF A RAVEN FOR TOO LONG. MIGHT STEAL YOUR SOUL, AND FLY AWAY WITH IT.”

. . . .

Snapping vile, twisted jaws, haughty vengeance hooked in heathen grace, unrest gripped the bleeding horizon in the cunning hands of a starving, ruthless violence. Reeling the spinning, vast temptations so kin to its name, a black midnight dipped it’s dirty, searching fingers deep into the insomniac silence, the weaving bewitchment of soiled velvet falling in long evergreen ribbons down into the rolling, heaving hills. Smirking plaintive vulgarity, scarlet hair tousled carelessly, Laike lounged among the hissing, festering cattails, hungry eyes smoldering an impassioned, loveless blue, his reptilian tongue and keen, wandering eyes trailing the black sky as if tracing feline curves in a sweltering fantasy. Restless with a fevered temper, thrust from the fatalities of his own flailing demeanor, he grazed the teeth of a malignant angel, daredevil passions and Geminian fickleness threading through the stakes of gambler felony, all teeth and tongue in its bold, blatant affections. Brushing hips with a biased, masochist fate, he shirked authority with an indifferent sneer, feigning a brute’s cut-throat loyalty. A modern age Dionysus, sweet wine and silky women all the way. Lashing the vermilion, moccasin tongue of a paramour deviant, he dogged aristocratic flanks, treading the outskirts, mocking and arrogant, as aloof with this mafia tyranny as he was with love itself. They were lost children, the lot of them, suckling still at their brash, half-naked Christ like babes to bare breasts, needy and devotedly foul, and their bitterness outweighing their greedy affections only when necessity flashed its brawling mutiny. Forced from the loins of vagabond hags, they lived like writhing rats in dripping, festering sewers, their bodies slick with filth, their minds and mouths filmed over with greasy, grotesque propaganda, thieving half-grown maids from their velvet beds in the dead of night, raping and pillaging, plundering man and woman alike, devouring angels and martyrs with the mongrel jowls of a devil’s hunting hounds. In all truth it was the gutter of Venice, where only the most barren and wretched of animals paraded themselves, bare-bones and waggling tongues, a kingdom of predators and prostitutes, whores and horrors. Its sickly charms and wily pleasures existed only in the vilest of its cavernous carnage, and Laike, in defiant disgust of its charlatan Queen, his impulsive, cruel whip the stain of the family name, evaded the most crowded of its ill-ridden halls entirely. Never had he witnessed such crude, pointless violation, lacking anything of the beckoning nature, inviting only a reckless, hare-brained bloodlust to rile an already rabid rage. Never had he watched the possession of such furious gypsies, in their snarling mentality, ruled and raided by the only woman who could outmatch them in sickness and cruelty. In the animal rivalry of his own sadism, Laike, ravenous, murderous, enjoyed it, relished it, the hot-blooded wretchedness of its vermin infested waters likening something of horrific fascination to a starving, heroine-hacked mind. Likewise, he waged a Carpathian war against its own thieving cunning, spitting barbed anarchy into every open, naked ear as if welcoming the challenge of a provoked, seething Fire and Ice.

He lied sleek and exposed in bold, distinct definition, caged chest heaving with shallow, smoky breath, the silken musk of his scent capturing and alluring in the cool evening air. Ever one to wallow among a mellow, simmering intensity, the inferno of his burning love and equal, infectious rage clawed voraciously at the flesh of his inner calm, but for all the world’s eyes, he was languid, careless, and recklessly proud, the swelling lion who lies basking in the royal incandescence of his sleeping savanna. Haughty and ghoulishly benevolent, racing time on a ragged winged mustang, he huffed subtle, passive aggression, the lethargic melody of exhausted strings a haunting hum in the smog of his mind. Sleep was far from possession at the serpent's hour, and indeed, beyond the hounding starlight in its caress of the blue, chilling moon, predator and prey dancing a feisty, doomed waltz, the clash of teeth and fleet-foot pound hushed and drawn.

Laike slithered from the splicing darkness of the hanging willow, power shivering and arrogance stifling, and Lysander appeared, brash and amused, dauntless and dangerous as ever. How long it'd been, since they'd spoken, met face to face, and yet, but for the tyranny of boyhood ascending into manhood, little had changed. Dark hair tossed in careless attraction, his bold, cold stare sharp with a predator's precision, he was cunningly lean, deliciously muscled, and acutely at ease, the contours of his sleek, toned frame rippling with a calm, sensuous strength, bronzed skin slick, his razorblade smile that of a Macedonian king strutting the pallid marble of a crumbling, star-struck Vienna, wickedly hungry and altogether beautiful, bare and brave.

Haughty, sweltering gaze flickering to his ragged, smirking brother, he stalked close, a brooding corruption and sneering rebellion in his carnivorous devil's play slinking along the belligerence and tell-tale recklessness that so defined their strenuous, wild, bloody brotherhood. Rippling a degenerate, elegant nerve, he circled with a lethal, jackal smile, hell-cat charm and harsh regality splayed along his up-front danger and heretic fury with a slaughtering, roaring ease. Challenge blazed in his heathen-cut-throat stare, an agonizing blueblood malice that riled Laike's animal nature to the murderous, ravenous breaking point. He was feral, fiery, a killer creature with a demon's chuckle, his mongrel bark equal to his succubus bite, his gluttonous affections and hellion desires far reaching those of a lusting, feasting Lothario. Laike had grown, handsomely so, frigid masculine beauty befitting of a prince with no home to call his own. How much had time changed in the anxious breath of life, love and bittersweet deception, how little they'd foresee these coming events of loneliness and doom and inevitable desperation that separated their family in a throbbing swell of anguished bleeding hatred and despairing idle destruction. Vindictive, vindicated, icy hurtful forlorn thrashing in an ocean of obsessive misery, the arms and bonds between trust, pain and unconditional love had shattered with the betrayal of their mother, the disappearance of their father and the abandonment of their oldest beloved sister, all left to the faded world of a decaying past where memories would soon leave them forever numb, bitter and unfeeling to the starved realization of buried truths and hidden lies. His cold, piercing gaze burned with a smoldering daring intensity, suddenly softened to an icy calculating hush of boyish sensuality, surrendering masculine pride and harsh meticulous stoicism with the brooding hidden compassion of an older man who longed to embrace his younger brother. But in the startling chill of beckoning silence and the crooning rasp of the heartless enveloping night, he found no voice, no reason, to justify a single act of merciful love. The sultry edgy quietness ensued hungrily between them like a waging covetous war between fire and angst, rabid defeat and equal surrender. Growling lupine with a luscious, dare-devil hiss, rough and husky, delectable in its attractive, drawl, he taunted, he mocked. “ALWAYS LATE FOR THE OCCASION, LAIKE? AREN'T YOU A ROTTON LITTLE SHIT."

Regarding him with cool, sly malice, undaunted and deliciously provoked, Laike grinned, a smile so slathered in animal vigor and beastial prowess it lit his face in an arsonist's criminal sharp, sweaty bangs falling across his dirty brow, careless and wild, a feverish hunger burning through his tyrant blood, urging riot, tempting havoc. Slithering swiftly to his pacing feet, scarlet furs rippling a soft, teeming power, fang-filled sneer dripping a searing, cunning allure, he chuckled a deep, rumbling humor, biting back with a wicked, wolfish pride, sarcasm and venomous. “NICE TO SEE YOU TOO, ASSHOLE.”

to be continued

Subject: Re: Gathering in the Dark Sat Aug 08, 2009 1:46 am

Though she felt restless as she waited for the other wolves to sort themselves out, she stayed put in silence with patience that was not common to her. But it was not too long before the elderly femme and her kin were finished with their initial friendly squabbling, and the other stranger was dealt with. It seemed they were soon sent off, though they did not go far. Bloodeye was not bothered, and glanced to Zaiaku, grinning slyly to him before stepping forward as she was beckoned by the older, familiar wolf. She nodded her head in greeting, glad it was finally her turn to be acknowledged. She was about to speak when two others appeared seemingly out of nowhere. The fur of her shoulders and spine rose, infuriated by their obvious interruption.

With a slight growl, Bloodeye snapped her jaws first in the direction of the red-tinted woman, sand flailing as her paws moved swiftly towards Tourniquet. "Yes, as a matter of fact you are!" she raged, tail lashing in the air. Then came the male, even more abrupt and thoughtless than his female companion. He stood tall, his head raised to that of equal status to those around him. He was overconfident, and idiotic to underestimate the situation he had walked in upon. Bloodeye snarled, lips raising as she rushed him, snapping her jaws toward his neck threateningly. Stopping with a loud clashing of fangs mere inches from his hide, she spoke in seething tones. She despised being disregarded by ignorant fools.

"Welcome, Ace and Tourniquet," she hissed, saliva bubbling at her lips, her moodiness showing through terribly in this moment, "Now that you've found the rogues you so valiantly sought out, stand back and shut your jaws. You can wait your turn, like a wolf with any sense should do." Her eyes were narrow slits of fury at this point, but, satisified by her own rant, she whipped around and marched over to Havoc. Her eyes watched the other newcomers warily, unsure how they would react, but more intent on getting acquainted with the elder femme. "Apologies, lady," she said loud and gruffly, unable to keep the anger from controlling the volume of her voice, "My name is Bloodeye, and my companion, Zaiaku."

She nodded over to the ebon hessian who had come with her, glancing upon his sapphire orbs a moment before turning back to Havoc. "We both come from the way of Jabbar Junayd," she stated, orange-tipped tassel swaying, "I believe I might have seen you there for a short time...?" It was spoken in a statement, but question lay beneath her tone, wondering if Havoc would answer her truthfully. If she had found someone who might not be fond of Jabbar, then all the better. Why else would she have been there, only to come here if she was not satisfied by the lands, the wolves or its leader, Damean? Little did Bloodeye know he had returned, but that would not matter. He had already left, a flaky leader in her opinion, someone who could not be trusted, and should be expelled from his throne. But it would take a lot of work...

Subject: Re: Gathering in the Dark Sun Aug 09, 2009 10:11 pm

Blue lanterns swung about the scene, moving over each of the vixens. It was clear to him they didn't appreciate his smirk, the one that told them he was thinking of something. They were right in their guess, he had been thinking of things. At once, his features took on a calm and blank stare. The mockery gone. Left with nothing but observant oculiars. Patience was something Zai could admit he had, he found it quite useful at times. He did not care to much about the little things, and watching the interaction of the three before him was enough to keep him entertained. For a bit. The dominate one, that she-wolf that poured dominance over the land. He watched her silently, knowing well that she was the one to speak with. The other two were of no immediate concern, One being a new arrival as well. The mischevious, and calculating trademark smirk was gone. Change for a more studying one, reading what was before him like a human would a book. No lyrics would flow from his maw, not unless necessary. Bloodeye could deal with the speaking, he was fine with being the bodyguard for now.

Just as plans had set in motion inside Bloodeye's crania, so did scheme's begin to form in his own. For the most part, he would play along. Act innocent, however a dark wolf did. Be the bodyguard, or any other character necessary. His own plans would come into affect later, for now he would go with Bloodeye's. To think, that in such short of a time, he was offered the chance to become king. Naturally, he expected obstacles. In fact, he knew there would be many. Ones to set him back quite a lot, and others that were petty. The patience that he had kept him from lashing out like Bloodeye, though his hues darkened toward the other two. He withheld a smirk that would've came due to Bloodeye's reaction. She was definitely amusing, and it was clear that there was an attraction. A weird, sinister one. Though wasn't that expect among their kind? Nothing simple, not like the pures. His composure didn't differ when Bloodeye lashed out, but his lanterns glowed brightly. The thought of blood being spilt filled his mind, and made him smirk briefly.

Once his companion settled, Zaiaku took a step forward. Invading the distance between the newcomers and Bloodeye, his gaze flowed over them before resting on Havoc. A light dip, charming yet mocking, to the dark fem. The respect was there, but it was light. Just like any, Zaiaku was able to show it, but not fully to any yet. The fact that the dark fem was surrounded by authority, was enough to make Zai give a bit of respect. Just as he had Akiko in Jabbar. Sapphire oculiars turn on the two newcomers once again, reading them with showing it. His stare was blank, even his eyes showed disinterest. He stood between them and Bloodeye, for a reason of course. A bloody fight, while interesting, wasn't what was needed at the moment. Though he'd enjoy seeing how Bloodeye fought. Returning to face Havoc once more, he looked past her to the dunes beyond. A desolate place, for uncaring wolves. Few would last long, the few that were weak.

Subject: Re: Gathering in the Dark Thu Aug 13, 2009 9:22 pm

GIVE ME YOUR SOUL
AND I'LL GIVE YOU PEACE

In the darkest corners of the world, noble trash and forgotten royalty gathered amidst the wandering vagabonds and silent psychotics, dust piling in a forsaken corner of the torn universe. In the dark of night, they tossed and turned, nightmares casting their curses to the haunting halos above their heads, slowly slipping down to choke the breath of defiance from their poisoned lungs. Baring teeth and ambitions, the svelte shadows gathered under a single pair of eyes, writhing in their own agony and angst. Lips turned; wrinkled upwards exposing the full set of teeth, canines and molars stained a startling orange from blood and age, razors dulled to rounded points. No quick death to be had in these exposed jowls, they damned treachery and misfortune, snarled in the face is disrespect and hissed under the solemn breath of challenge. Loose sand compacted under worn mitts, talons digging deep into the skin of the scorching desert, into the veins of damp earth and tearing up the flesh in seething vehemence. Ears twisted on the broad skull in one swift motion, snapping back against the curve of her nape. Whipcord lashing against thick air, striking against the curve of her hips, the crone – the death goddess, the old heiress of a thriving kingdom slain by her own hand, the whispering muse in the mind of seduced kings, the knife in the hands of warriors on the battlefield – squared her shoulders, rose her proud crown high, and arched her satin plume over her narrow waist, stiff with indignation so that she became still as a proud tree would against the bitter winter wind, spreading her writhing, seething veins over the heads of the group gathered, the cloud of dissonance seeping into the atmosphere. Biting words shot from the mouths of demons and witches, pressing their vexatious vocals against the bare of her ear drum, however hidden now it may be. Discord and chaos slipped into her grasping hands, the tide of tension growing higher, wider, and steadily more suffocating until at last she broke through its darkest waters with a single snarl, a word that rang out above their own with hissing irritation and barking demand. “Silence!”

Moths to the flame of change, they swirled at her feet, gathered in the most childish of ways, bickering amongst themselves and trying to claw their way to top with brutality and brashness. Deep in her chest, she could feel it building. It burned, it twisted, it knotted in the deepest corner of her chest with undying determination until it sought out her lungs and engulfed them in a flame much stronger than the attraction to fame and glory. The lowest, deepest of growls whispered brutal malice against the roof of her mouth, sliding over her tongue with surprising coarseness until it arrived in still, silent air. Flashing against the shadows of a receding night and the violence of a coming dawn, the woman, the warrior, the vampire, mother and lover pressed upon their ignorance with her quietest of curses, the cold silvern eye of her father - and his father, and his mother’s – the cruelest of glares to curdle the blood of wolves. Generations of blood, shed and spilled, did not grant these wolves an authority close to hers. Months of casting down the rats in the halls of ruins did not lend pardon to their fearlessness. ‘I’d like to see you try...’ How dare you? Against the grain, her blood vaporized in her circulatory web, flowing back as her hot, flaming temper turned into a cold, biting emotion of a heartless woman – the mother a murderer, the lover an assassin. Lips couldn’t pull back in any more disgust, any more disdain for the slithering snakes daring to spit poison her way. On their bellies, looking up at God and cursing their existence on Him, for their mistakes. Held against the stone wall, the demon in her writhed against its restricting chains, gnawed at the metal locks that kept it caged. “An act?” The calm was discomforting, smoke slipping past her raised jowls. Hackles rose in a sharp line along her spine, dark mane on end to adorn her already broad shoulders in the pelt of luxury that spoke of health, of youth, and of strength no matter how old the bones may be. Glare cast down in the pair, as if they were the lowest, smoldered silently after that. Watching them with the most unreadable of expressions, the cogs in her mind worked furiously to decide on spilling their blood as an example of her act. But on cue, on the worst of luck, her grandson slipped onto the scene, breaking her calm and disrupting her order. She shot forward, jaws clutching tight to his scruff as her legs wrapped around his shoulders, dragging his lean body down in a swift act of damning punishment and shame. He lay beneath her in agony and embarrassment, his boast a bare, dead branch on her thriving tree. Teeth at his throat, she stood on his masculine chest, her weight on his until his movements became no more, and those bright blue eyes stared into hers cold silver, awaiting trail and judgment. “You dare!” The filth of his saliva on her chin made a shiver run up her spine, one of thrilling madness and chilling anger. The sweat on her skin became cold, the growing growl seeping into nothingness. Her words thrashed upon his ears, knives in his heart. As if this snake had one…
“You depreciate my word for yours? You have no authority to grant pardon! You are just as worthless as your treacherous mother, just as foolish. If you were not my blood, I would spill it for your blatant disrespect. You bring shame to the Synical line, just like her. Would you try to murder me too, if it was at your benefit?” She crooned, a mother’s agony feigned as mockery. “You press on my patience too recklessly. Get out of my fucking sight.” He was shoved aside, disposed as her attention turned again to the two strangers. Her snarls grew again, jaws – stained with familial blood – snapped in their direction out of irritation, and none more of threat. “I’ve had enough of this. From everyone.” She cast a dark look Bloodeye’s way, warning her to hold her tongue. However right she had been in her opposition, Havoc despised the discord that reigned under her nose. She turned to Tourniquet, the woman nearly saved by Laike’s lechery, and brushed a cold glance over her companion, Ace. They were both fools, as far as she had thus seen. Stepping into the boundaries of a gathering they knew to be malicious and no less than demanding attention. Well, they had it. She felt every set of eyes boring into their ignorance, her own in particular. The male was far too brash for his own good; at least the woman had some tact, however mocking it had been. “What makes you, a child, so damnably brave?” Her lids narrowed, brows furrowed in discontent before continuing. “Why were you seeking our presence in the first place? And how confident you did so! Did you think we were to welcome you with open arms on your own word?” She scoffed, rolling her eyes to the other intruding soul, a male sent by Laike. Her lip curled, though her fires had been fed by the sweet taste of her grandson’s blood on her tongue. “I am Ereshkigal, the Rogue Queen here.” It was all she offered, her waning patience returned to the younger ebony fatale.

Subject: Re: Gathering in the Dark Fri Aug 14, 2009 12:49 am

A glance was spared for her more brazen companion before being locked onto the hateful harlot that was now making a scene with her hissy fit. It seemed that if the attention was not upon herself she took it into her own paws to make it so. Amber oculars were hard now and her mouth pressed into a thin line. The she wolf moved on to spew her insecurities at Ace, more violently then at herself. Talons unsheathed themselves and sunk into the grainy soil casually. The muscles under her coat flexed and relaxed and her gaze did not drop from the she wolf. It seemed that most of her attention was focused on Ace now. There was a deep yearning in her to rake her claws across her haughty mug but she kept herself in check. However she did not know what Ace would do, knowing his temper not to be as level as hers.

True he had been bold the way he presented himself and sat down before these rogues, but that is what they were rogues. They were not a pack and neither of them owed allegiance to anyone here. Eyes still following Bloodeye she almost sneered in disgust as she went to the "lady". A mental snort of derision. Touniquet pegged her as a power hungry usurper. She would grovel at the leaders feet and just as soon stab her in the back. How charming that there was one of those here. Her view was obscured as a ebon hessian deemed it necessary to step between them and her. She gave him little heed for in the moment where response would be necessary the "lady" had stepped forth to lay her own words on them.

A mere ghost in the background, again as Ace took the brunt of the abuse. Again just a mere glance towards him to see his reaction. Surely he would not stay quiet and as this dark femme progressed, surely she would not either. There was only so much that one can expect of a wolf like Tourniquet and lying down and taking such words was not on the list. The fur along her spine spiked and her lip twitched in anticipation of revealing her canines. Stepping forward towards Havoc her own snarl rent the air, more vicious sounding than percievable from the more 'dainty' looking fem. Locking a battle glare on Havoc her eyes flashed dangerously. Sand whipping around her form. "Let me apologize for our brashness my queen, but if I wanted to serve under a tyrannical bitch I would join a senseless witch like Akira, whom you so dubbed." Another snarl burst from her chasm. "We are not dogs for you to command and as I see it your would be worthless without your sorry souled followers. So a little more respect for the commoners my queen." Pausing. "As for your fawning wench over there..." She indicated Bloodeye "Take a snap at Ace or myself again and I shall show you and anyone else for that matter, just how hard I can shut my jaws." As if to emphasize her point her jaws closed with an audible crack. Every word seethed with venom, no she was no puppet and these two witches were fools if they thought she could be controlled by intimidation. Her body was quivering like an arrow, ready for flight, ready to plunge into the heart of her victim. "The packs may be ignorant Havoc, but they are not weak. Without us you will gain no hold on these lands." Lyrics were now, less angry and more sensible. Tassle lashed widly in wide angry swipes. Tourniquet wondered why Havoc did not have the same attitude towards Bloodeye. Perhaps it was because they have briefly known each other in the past? As a last remark to let it sink in she added "I do not play well with favorites."

Subject: Re: Gathering in the Dark Fri Aug 14, 2009 1:16 am

Bloodeye smirked with satisfaction as Havoc moved away from her only to rant at the two arrogant, interruptive wolves that had come along. It was amusing, just to see how alike they were in the situation. Bloodeye had never tolerated insolence, and it was clear that this elderly femme did not either. Then her auds perked forward intently, listening to every bit of information that she offered to these unsuspecting fools. So, she had claimed these lands, and was Queen of the territory? Then she went on to give more thorough explanations of why she was here and what she intended for the future. Her hackles rose, quivering with anticipation; this was perfect! This woman had all the same great ideas that flowed through her own mind, they were on the exact same page.

Her eyes narrowed, and she clawed at the sand, attempting to contain her excited anxiety. At last, Havoc, or Ereshkigal as she now wished to be known as, turned her attention on Bloodeye. Her attention never wavered as Ereshkigal spoke to her. She chuckled as the femme spoke of Damean; she didn't need to be told, she already knew he was a fool. Then she mentioned something that Bloodeye thought nobody in these lands could possibly know of. Memories flooded over her, of a most confusing and infuriating time in her life. Yes, she had been allied with Brutalis Silveria Nightshade, a fearsome ruler of brute strength. Nothing had gone wrong there. Yet the traitors had always chosen her own pack over the alter's, and she had dealt with them left, right and center. Even the father of her children was a no good, filthy ditcher, leaving while she was almost due to bare pups.

Few wolves had been loyal, though she did remember a few faces, and a few names. Glacier had always been there, and Earthshine had been a great help in raising her children while their father was absent. Another brute, who she'd been quite fond of, had also shown great loyalty; she had trusted him enough to allow him the honour of naming her only son. But what had become of any of them? Her children? She knew that Earthshine still roamed, it was just in his nature... but the others? She assumed them dead, after the attack, and the fire that had ravaged her packlands. She had only been able to save her dear daughter, Blackeye, but the rest of the lives were unknown to her. Fire and storm had driven her far from those lands, and she'd never gone back, afraid of what she would find.

Shame filled her eyes as she looked to the ground, her chest tightening as she remembered all of the loss, her failure... forcing it from her mind, she blinked her eyes, looking back up to Erishkegel's eye level. "So I was," she spoke quietly, so different from the tone of her recent outburst, "A Queen of the past... the lands of Fathom have burned, and many perished, many of my own. Whatever remains is a mystery to me..." She was still having trouble keeping the sorrow from her voice, but she needed to be strong, and remember that great things lay in the future. She could give no more information than what she knew, so she said no more on the issue of Fathom. She had been a strong ruler back then, with much respect, but she felt she had done so little for them, truly, and she had allowed them all to die, helpless to change a thing. Maybe it would be different here.

"Well, honestly, I never knew my destination," she told Erishkegel calmly, on how she'd come to the lands of Fire and Ice, "I just wanted to find somewhere to start over. I suppose I just ended up here. As for my reasons for leaving Jabbar Junayd, well... how very similar they are to your own ambitions." A great, sly look came upon her face at this moment. Did this elder femme understand the possibilities that lay before them, with their own two minds already thinking on the same path? They both were not fond of Damean Jagger, nor of the current situation of the packs, and the changes in mind were merely upon the horizon. She was sure, now, that her motives to overcome Jabbar with Zaiaku at her side were no longer a far off dream, but something of reality.

Suddenly, searing anger rang in her auds, venom dripping from each word that spewed from Tourniquet's mouth. Bloodeye turned her head, ears pressed forward, nose wrinkling in the beginnings of a snarl. She knew by now that Erishkegel could well handle her self, and would say nothing on her part but back her up if she needed it. However, as she was addressed, fury raged back through her and she took a threatening step towards Tourniquet. She would not stand idly while threats were tossed her way. Lips peeled back, revealing once more her deadly canines to the femme. "Just try me, girl," she beckoned, snapping her jaws in a taunt toward the alter, "Perhaps if you and your partner had shown a little sense, you would not be under the scrutiny of others. Pack or not, we are wolves that demand respect, just as you do." With that her tail lashed the air, ready for whatever was to come.

Subject: Re: Gathering in the Dark Mon Aug 17, 2009 1:28 pm

~MINX~

Molten gold eyes shifted as the shadows came forth. She had noticed them and was sure Havoc had too. They approached her aunt, haughty words flying. Minx shook her head slightly and narrowed her eyes. Tsk...tsk..tsk. She thought to herself. That is no way to get on Havoc's good side and you didn't want to be on her bad side. She looked at Melusina. The fem was not giving her any info so Minx was not going to waste her time any longer. "Well Melusina, shall we go join the party?" She stood and gave Melusina one last look and padded down the hillside on silent ebony pillars.

She came upon the party, a young goddess of darkness, the night her shroud , the moon her scepter. Obsidian auds forward catching all the harsh words of favoritism and threats. She decided that the less people knew she was Havoc's niece at this point the better...at least for now. The tension was obvious between the white and the black fem. She stood silent and watched. This was not her battle but Havoc would be sure to take the end of the black vix's nose if she wasn't careful. Rude didn't go over well with her aunt. She stood silently catching just from what the other's were spewing out of their mouths that Havoc had told of her plan. Melusina was soon to find out, ahh well, trust is earned not given freely.

OOC: MY POST SUCKED Razz

SORRY GUYS

Subject: Re: Gathering in the Dark Wed Aug 19, 2009 12:28 am

His auds stood on end, listening to the epitome of ignorance. His quiet smile turned into a simper from ear to ear, showing all of his fangs.He chuckled, then peered at Havoc."Disrespectful? Did i not bow? Show cooperation?" He snickered once more."Well queenie, or whatever it is you may call yourself, judging on how you greet newcommers I would say your more of a dictator looking for a false thrown." His smile still remained. Glaring at the femme without wavering. Her snarling and yelling would not phase him, she held no power."As for those misfits you call followers, as my companion had said, it seems as though your worthless without them so if I were you i would quit the tough bitch act." He quickly turned to Bloodeye. He laughed."And you. Snap your jaws at someone else. To me your just a pawn in this big game of chess and you haven't learned that the pawns are first to go."

He returned his attention to Havoc,any other words tossed from his mouth to Bloodeye would just be wasted saliva."Take not the word of my friend lightly. She may be small but her punishment is worse than the gnashing of teeth. Oh and one more thing Ereshkigal." He leaned forward with his smirk threw the clouds, all his muscles tensed and flexed. His mouth starting to salivate with excitement. He peered into her eyes as if looking for a soul. "I'd like to see you try and rip out this disrespectful tongue of mine."

Subject: Re: Gathering in the Dark Wed Aug 19, 2009 9:53 am

It was all beyond entertaining, from the dark 'queen' to the snapping newcomers. Not to mention his companion, who would willingly rip a couple of throats out. He wasn't in the least surprised to get a reaction from a group of vixens, though it seemed even the other male couldn't keep his cool. What lyrics could he contribute to the madness? Zaiaku was calm as ever, though it seemed to be a weird calm. Every fibre of his body was willing to fight, but his mind withheld his actions. After all, he came here for one reason. Whether it meanth having to follow a tyrannical b.itch, or someone else. Either way, he'd worm his way into power. While the other wolves were spitting acid, a smirk crossed the dark bruja's maw. It seemed like a scene from back in Tartarus, though he had been the alpha at that time. His beta was fighting with some lesser wolves, all the while Zai was calm and distant. Though he focused on the group, his lanterns seemed elsewhere. He was told later that it was unnerving, by one of the healers that had been fighting. He hadn't snapped back then, but it was clear that he could. Even if he seemed calm.

Blue lanterns moved over the group, coming out of the distant gaze. Orbs lay on the male speaking, and Zaiaku smirked once more. He might've chuckled, but decided against it. He was no minion, no follower. Nor was Bloodeye, that much was apparent to him. She knew what it was to hold power, to be an alphess. As did Zai himself. Even having left that position, Zai was no follower. Leader. His gaze seemed to go distant once more, but the smirk stayed. How much was he like this Damean? By his knowledge, the bruja was a ditcher aswell. Though Zai had different reasons, and it wasn't like his beta wasn't willing to take the throne. Hues glowered for a moment, remembering the loyalty in Jabbar's beta. Perhaps that's what made them different, Zai's beta was loyal to an extent. Damean truly had followers, loyal minions. As did Zai, untill his leave. Tartarus went on without a care, but Jabbar had gone under stress. Zaiaku snapped back to reality, and continued to watch the scene with mild interest.

It was all idiotic. Zaiaku easily played along with the 'follower', but it wasn't likely to stick out. His intentions were to take Jabbar with Bloodeye, this Ereshkigal was just helpful. He wouldn't follow under her rule. Then again it was Bloodeye's choice to come to the desolate lands, though it seemed a good place to plan. He wondered if the pack noticed the disappearence of the two wolves, though he wouldn't be surprised if they didn't. He was a newcomer, so it was easy to brush off that he fled. 'Probably couldn't handle the pack' Zaiaku smirked at what they could've said, knowing it would go along those lines. What of Bloodeye though, she had been more then just a newcomer. Though Zai didn't know of the 'King's' return, a distraction. The matter now was whether a right would occur, a stupid useless fight it would be. Zaiaku didn't need to fight Ereshkigal yet, so the two newcomers would be outnumbered. Were they foolish enough to attempt it? Strength only went so far when numbers came into play. His gaze shifted to the vixens who had returned from their dining. He smirked again, he wouldn't mind seeing it happen. The two newcomers ripped limb from limb.

Subject: Re: Gathering in the Dark Thu Aug 20, 2009 3:10 pm

Bloodeye continued facing Tourniquet, ready for her should she choose to get physical, but her eyes had turned in Ace's directions. So, he had finally decided to speak up? And what foolish, worthless words he spoke. If he had heard of the rogues that roamed the desert, then he should have known better than to come here if this was how he was going to behave. An infuriated burst of laughter exploded from her when he attempted to belittle Erishkegal; it did not matter what she would be without her followers, for now she had them, and she knew that any one of them would more than willingly enjoy ripping the limbs from these undisciplined pups. Besides, even without them, Erishkegal was more than capable of handling outsiders.

A sly glint entered her eyes as he demanded her to snap her jaws at someone else. "Like you?" she snapped, jaws clanking in his direction, "Heh, who do you think you are? Do you believe your thoughts mean anything at all here? Don't insult me, you mindless, insolent whelp." She was more than ready to defend herself, but she was not going to further bother with Ace. She would see what 'punishment' Tourniquet could deal, that was, if she was a wolf that made good of her threats. Bloodeye knew that if both of these wolves did not either back down, or put up a really good fight, they were each going to die a horrible death, piece by piece. And she herself would enjoy every torturous moment of it.

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