Be Not Fearful

Razekiel Lykoi · 11-03-2011, 06:44 PM

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Enter Razekiel, stirring up fun. 8D I set up a few chances for people to interact with Razekiel if they wish -- either grabbing a mask or having him dance briefly with them -- just PP it as long as it's quick. Big Grin

Eager to allow festivities to continue unhindered by his appearance, the redfaced coy had sneaked his way into the bonfire party, tending to the background as he observed his fellow Ichikans with an admiring smile. With great interest his straw eyes glued to those he did not know well; Shiloh in particular held his interest. Razekiel had been briefed of her presence, basically as a refugee from AniWaya. This came as no surprise to him — he had offered sanctuary to Ralla and any others of her pack seeking to duck out of war's way, and the coyote sensed no harm in Shiloh's presence ... especially considering the rather pitiful way she carried herself. He longed to wrap his arms around her and coo that everything would be all right, but for the time being, Razekiel pulled at the scruff on his chin and resisted.

Jace was the pregnant thing he'd heard she was, and Pripyat and Wretch had seemingly grown since the coyote had seen them last. Jefferson had asked Razekiel specifically to watch over the scarred man's son; the cyclops had since vanished. What had he left the coyote to do? Certainly the Seiryu would be no suitable step-in father, and Pripyat would never look to him in the same way he did Jefferson. He sensed a deep-set leader's charisma in the blue-eyed hybrid, birthed most likely from his experience as the Patriarch's son. In silence the coyote observed the chemistry in the air, and smiled sheepishly to himself when the bonfire erupted with trinkets Pripyat had thrown in.

Cackling quietly to himself, Razekiel ducked away into hiding; he pulled the pointed, wide-eyed mask from his satchel and slipped it over his eyes, then painted long lines of red and gold over his cheeks. An assortment of necklaces and bangles of varying teeth and beads jingled great noise as he danced back to them, arms thrown in the air and grin wide and wicked.

"Come all, come all, my children of the earth!" he exclaimed, beckoning them with bent fingers and a booming voice, "Be silent, be silent; do you hear the whispers of the dead? They sing with the spirits of Samhain!"

A great cackle burst forth in his display, the man a witch doctor in tone and act. For those that gathered, he stepped in the center of their circle, moving and twisting constantly with crooked grin and spine alike. "The departed are among us, my friends! Quickly, hide your eyes before they see your gaze alive!" Dipping a hand into the satchel at his hip, the man tossed varying masks out into the small crowd from them to grab; decorated in paints and beads, the masks were crafted mainly from bark yet decorated and shaped into frightening shapes.

"They envy us this night," the coyote mumbled and crept, pausing only to cackle. "They envy our flesh, our ability still to love, on this one frightful night. Do you hear them?" He cupped a hand at his ear. "They dare us to proceed and prove ourselves still worthy of the muscle and bone the Mother still allows us! Come, come! We must show them the life in the living!"

Beckoning, he invited them to dance; those that hesitated he grabbed, spun and danced briefly with amidst hearty laughter and twinkling eyes. Kicking heels and knees, they circled the bonfire with howls and chants, their voices united like the most haunting of songs. In his hands he clutches jars of rice, shaken enthusiastically to the beat; when he drew near the drunken, sloppy Nayru he burst into laughter and tossed the jars aside, instead taking her and guiding her in the wild, bouncing dance.

"You are not so light on your feet tonight," he winked to his drunken co-leader, then turned and wrapped his arm around her back, raising his other hand to the sky. "They fear us, my Ichikans! Now, hide your eyes no longer! Cast those masks into the fire and calm them!" Pulling his mask from his eyes, the coyote tossed it into the grand bonfire with a grin, allowing the others to do the same before chanting, "Sing with me, one last time!" and tossed his head into the air, releasing a long, soulful howl for them all to join.

Razekiel soon burst into laughter and dropped rather quickly onto his ass, exhausted yet beyond delight. Trying to gain his breath, the male grinned sheepishly and waved at them all, denoting they could return to their own festivities — his own little act was complete.

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