[html]<style type="text/css">#ásmundrdec29 b {color:#4b525d; font-weight:bold;} #ásmundrdec29 {margin:auto; width:455px; padding:10px; padding-bottom:150px; border:1px solid #fff; background:url( http://i5.photobucket.com/albums/y199/l ... enshot.png) bottom no-repeat #8d9297; font:12px georgia; color:#bec0c3; line-height:12px; text-align:justify;}</style> Oh hello I'm super slow q_q I'm at crappy work so this is a crappy post. sorries <3
It had been a while since she had been this far north-east in the Inferni territory, but it served as a good and long walk and perhaps this was the reason why the girl found herself this far away from the caves. The war was more heated than ever and the hybrid woman seldom felt at ease when she wandered a bit too far away from Kaena Lykoi. She wished she could be a brainless soldier without life and meaning. She had wanted madness and greatness through battle and blood, but she found that her personality did not quite fit her foolish youth’s dreams. Life was no longer seen as her playground and it had edges that hurt were one not careful.
The bright sunlight seemed overdone, but she continued onwards in her aimless stride and let the rays warm her auburn fur and dark hair. Spring was well on its way and there would be no more sitting in trees watching the snowfall. The girl smiled vaguely as a memory passed and was lost in thought as she walked straight ahead and barely managed not to collide with the large tent half an hour later. It seemed to her that it had popped out of nowhere, as she refused to admit even to herself that her attention had been totally elsewhere. Now her ruby focus was on her uncle’s home and she walked around it to find the entrance to see if he was home. Her feelings were mixed, for it was unusual for her to seek company of those she did not know well. Raziekel was a relative she had barely interacted with until now.
[html] http://i57.photobucket.com/albums/g210/ ... lowers.png); background-position: bottom center; background-repeat: no-repeat;"> The post was fine! Thank you for starting, luff. :3
It was no strange sight to see Razekiel's tent leaking smoke at every possible exit the clouds could escape from. In actuality, it was more uncommon to see otherwise when it came to the red-faced prince and his dwelling. The scent that reeked outside the tent was undoubtedly marijuana, and it was so terribly plentiful that there was no feasible way to avoid the thick smell, even if it was quick to dissipate in the wind. There was no doubt that he was home, nor would he ever refuse a visitor, so when his ears picked up sounds creeping around the outside of his little dwelling despite the spinning of his head, the coyote wasted no time to poke his head out and grin at his guest.
"Oh hello, my little Halo!" It was Halo, right? He recognized her just faintly, knowing they were probably related one way or another but unsure at that moment exactly how -- though as far as the prince was concerned, all the world was his family. Her name had been mentioned to him at some point but the two had never directly interacted, much like Razekiel with the rest of Inferni. He was different from they, so until they began to poke around his tent or stop him in his half-brained meanderings around the clanlands, he typically stayed out of their way. Creeping out of the tent's entrance, the coyote spread his arms open wide, grinned around the joint still in his mouth, and didn't think twice about trying to wrap his arms around her in a fearlessly tight embrace. "You're like a little angel, man! I have heard so much about you! Oh, no, maybe I have not, I am not sure. But I would like to if I haven't, man!"
Releasing her, the coyote stumbled back and spun around a little, then breathed in the joint deeply. "What brings you to Razzy-man's pad, angel?"
[/html]
[html]<style type="text/css">#ásmundrdec29 b {color:#4b525d; font-weight:bold;} #ásmundrdec29 {margin:auto; width:455px; padding:10px; padding-bottom:150px; border:1px solid #fff; background:url( http://i5.photobucket.com/albums/y199/l ... enshot.png) bottom no-repeat #8d9297; font:12px georgia; color:#bec0c3; line-height:12px; text-align:justify;}</style> +300
She was already toying with the thought of getting the hell out of here. She recognized the smell from the Halloween party, though the memories of the light scented air was nothing compared to the thick layer of smoke and stench she was facing now. She was not allowed time to turn and walk away, because a red face poked out of the tent and grinned at her. Was it possible to actually live and breathe in there? Her jaw dropped slightly in surprise at this, but closed when he spoke. It shouldn’t be too strange that he knew her name. He should, being her uncle and all. ”Hello, uncle Razekiel.” the young woman returned politely, wondering how long she could stand this smell before becoming ill.
He said strange things and Halo’s eyes narrowed slightly with that usual suspicion of hers before they nearly popped out of their sockets as he hugged her seemed unable to recall if he had heard much about her or not. It was odd how much it saddened her to think that Kaena never talked about her to others. She wanted to be the perfect servant and grandchild for the older woman. It mattered little now though, because she was busy being shocked by that sudden move the man had pulled. She had the choice between turning into a statue and clawing his face off, so she remained still, feeling her hackles rise in tension and waited for the release.
”Don’t do that.” the girl hissed lowly between tight lips when he let her go. Razekiel’s eyes were golden and not crimson like Samael’s, but the girl still suffered from what had happened a long time ago. She had been unable to continue her foolish games because of that. Unable to deal with closeness in most ways. Raz’s move had shaken her core because it had come so very sudden. ”I stumbled across this tent and wondered if it was possible for any living being to survive so much smoke.” the hybrid woman answered stiffly, somewhat reeling away from the joint positioned in his mouth.
[html] http://i57.photobucket.com/albums/g210/ ... lowers.png); background-position: bottom center; background-repeat: no-repeat;">
She referred to him as uncle and he stashed away the information for later, though he still hadn't the slightest as to her parents were but believed the girl to be likely a grandchild of his mother. Kaena had produced quite a family, and he being somewhere in the center of it all made some benefit, awarding the coyote with plenty of familial connections -- fortunate, since most of the Lykoi family (and the Poers, on that note) were sentimental and attached when it came to blood bonds. Razekiel may have been more busied with his love for Mother Earth and the like -- where his other family lay, the sun and moon, the sky and sand -- to care more for the Lykoi family, but he couldn't be bothered with trying to remember all their names, after all. It was much easier to remember the general terms for nature rather than individual tags allotted by parents at birth. More than once, he'd mixed up Clover and Sage's names when they were children, and it had started from there that he'd found replacement nicknames for his loved ones.
He grinned obliviously and let go at her request, though the sound had little meaning in his ears. He became aware of her distaste for the smoke only through the mentioning of such; Razekiel was somewhat dense when it came to sensing emotions through facial expressions alone, especially when he was under the influence of such magical things. "I am just living life, angel-girl," he smiled at the sky, arms spread open and he spun in a small, wobbly circle. "I don't care if I don't live long, beautiful; I just want to live while I'm livin', man. Mother Earth will take the air from my lungs when it is time, and until then I fill them with the wonders of her bosom. She does not grow some plants for looks alone, man!"
The coyote breathed in, out, and in again, a goofy smile set solid on his face. "Do you regret the way you live, angel? I do not regret a thing."
[/html]
[html]<style type="text/css">#ásmundrdec29 b {color:#4b525d; font-weight:bold;} #ásmundrdec29 {margin:auto; width:455px; padding:10px; padding-bottom:150px; border:1px solid #fff; background:url( http://i5.photobucket.com/albums/y199/l ... enshot.png) bottom no-repeat #8d9297; font:12px georgia; color:#bec0c3; line-height:12px; text-align:justify;}</style> +300
She knew so very little about this uncle. There was Samael and there was Razekiel, and both two extremes in each their ways. This relative was the one that puzzled her most though, for she had never seen him thirsty for wolfen blood when the rest of the clan was screaming for justice. In fact she thought she disliked that. Samael could never again be loved the way she had loved him the first time she had seen him and recognized him as kin, but he had been the creature most similar to her hopes and dreams when she had first come to this place. This man here lived in peace and smoked his heavy shit, and Halo’s nose twitched; overwhelmed by the stench. Not to say she was not getting used to it though, because the German brothers in the mansion had the same hobby and did not always care to keep the smoke stench from seeping under the door and out into the hall.
She found him incredibly odd as he opened his arms wide and spun around. Her large coyote ears took in his words, but she was not certain that she understood. His question was rude and her face hardened. Not because she was taken back that he even dared to ask, but because she did regret many things that had been allowed to happen in her short life. Good for him that he held no regrets, but Halo did not like that either. She was a cruel being and when she suffered she wished others to suffer with her. She did not wish for him to live a happy life as long as she could not. ”You do realize that you look stupid while living life your way, right?” Ah, how smooth and lovely her voice sounded. It contrasted the cruel words she spoke so well. He did not deserve it, but Halo was seldom fair. At least she was honest and spoke from her gut every now and then.
[html]
Not even the slightest hint of a smile bent at her lips. Razekiel was growing used to this reaction, already knowing well that his behavior and actions were not generally accepted or smiled upon by a majority of his clanmates. Many of his family had already grown used to his behavior and expected it, but the only one who seemed to appreciate his change from the old-fashioned, bloodthirsty Lykoi was was his mother, though he could not discern her true feelings. She was not ashamed of him, she had told him that. He was who he was now, and although he was vastly different from the rest, Razekiel was pleased with the way he lived.
Her query was as sharp as her eyes, though when the hippie stopped to look at them, it occurred to him that they were such a darling red shade, and just briefly he was envious. As such, he failed to correctly hear her question at first, his head spinning all the while, and after some pause he gave thought to it. He settled back down, a smile on his face, and he spoke with smoke filtering through his teeth. "I am happy," Razekiel grinned, gazing lazily up at her, "and how I live is happy, man, but they say the second you judge another, you yourself are not."
He puffed once more. "You are beautiful, no matter how you feel."
<style type="text/css">
.razflowers b {font-weight:bold; color:#413037; letter-spacing:1px;}
.flowersooctext {font-style:italic; color:#674E58; padding:0px; font-family:verdana, sans-serif; font-size:9px; text-align: right;}
.razflowers p {text-indent:25px; padding:5px 10px; margin:0px;}
.razflowers {margin:0 auto; width:350px; background-color:#FDFEF8; background-image:url( http://i57.photobucket.com/albums/g210/ ... rtable.png); background-position:bottom center; background-repeat:no-repeat; border:1px solid #413037; padding: 0px 0px 0px 0px; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size:12px; color:#674E58; line-height:12px; letter-spacing:.5px; text-align:justify;}
</style>[/html]
[html]<style type="text/css">#ásmundrdec29 b {color:#4b525d; font-weight:bold;} #ásmundrdec29 {margin:auto; width:455px; padding:10px; padding-bottom:150px; border:1px solid #fff; background:url( http://i5.photobucket.com/albums/y199/l ... enshot.png) bottom no-repeat #8d9297; font:12px georgia; color:#bec0c3; line-height:12px; text-align:justify;}</style> +300
She wanted to rip off that smile that so easily found its way to his face again. It was as if he didn’t listen to what she said. Or perhaps he simply didn’t care. She could somewhat understand that, but that did not make it any better. In order to make herself feel better she had to wound others, but it did not affect the strange, stoned uncle. Would he have reacted differently if his brain had been unaffected by the large amounts of weed? Why did he insist on smoking stuff that made him act silly? Ears moved toward her skull as she thought about the miserable Halloween party where everyone seemed to be stoned or drunk or both. It had been disgusting to watch. She had not been able to recognize Kaena that evening and was secretly glad that Gabriel had entered the scene before she had been pushed to do anything stupid by group pressure.
She did not want her uncle to be happy. His words felt judgemental to her. What did he know about happiness? Her hackles flared for a moment, especially since his words rang so true in her ears. She had been happy in the past before the crimson eyed uncle had ruined her life. She could judge people as she pleased and did not need any fucking stoners to claim that it meant she was not happy. His next words were weird and she did not even bother to figure out exactly what he meant. She had once been beautiful, but Samael had taken everything away from her. She was a withered flower now and she was bitter beyond anything because she knew exactly how lovely she had been. Skin deep beauty was all she had, and though her appearance was no less stunning than it had been, she could no longer appreciate it. "Okay.." she muttered uncomfortably, looking away from her uncle's smoke.
[html]
Sorry, slow...
She was listening, he knew, but even under the dominance of marijuana, Razekiel recognized how empty his words were to her. Perhaps it was that she knew nothing of happiness or beauty at all, as if those things--those words--had no meaning inside her fragile little mind. What had happened to her that stole away such innocence? When he said those words, what were the things that she pictured in her mind? She was an angel in his eyes and nothing less, nothing more; Razekiel knew hardly enough about Halo to base such a decision, and yet this was perfectly normal to he. No, he wasn't her father, and nor was he there to lecture her or try to change her life. But damn, did she look so miserable, each time he saw her. How could one live in such a way? For many of the faces he'd come to know both fleeting and not, those that had shared in his drugs with him had done so to escape the real world and its pressures, to escape the type of misery Halo held on her face at all times. He didn't judge her for not turning in the same direction as others, to find an escape. He judged only the fact that she seemed incapable of smiling, and that he himself could never have lived that way.
"What is beautiful to you, angel-girl?" he said, straw eyes gazing into the furthest depths of the sky. A smile still held his face, though the prince felt his heart twist in the presence of such... nothingness. Her eyes were empty, though a dim fire glowed behind them. That was all the life he had seen in his niece so far. Briefly, just briefly, he remembered the "dead girl" Lolita. Perhaps she and Halo might have gotten along well. ...Or perhaps not, since Lolita had been damn stolid about his wandering near Dahlia and Halo's loyalty to Inferni. Best leave that at rest, then. "What we find beautiful is what makes us happy, says this poor man. For me, it is the world around us... The birds in the trees, the cold wind over the ocean, the first sign of life in springtime. I don't live a very happy life, man, but I make the best of it." He didn't speak much of the darker things in his head to common people. A concluding puff on his joint finalized that.
<style type="text/css">
.razocean b {font-weight:bold; color:#883E4A; letter-spacing:1px;}
.razoceanooc {font-style:italic; color:#B93B45; padding:0px; font-family:verdana, sans-serif; font-size:9px;}
.razocean p {text-indent:25px; padding:5px 10px; margin:0px;}
.razocean {margin:0 auto; width:450px; background-color:#FE9E2A; background-image:url( http://i57.photobucket.com/albums/g210/ ... zocean.png); background-position:bottom center; background-repeat:no-repeat; border:1px solid #233036; padding: 0px 0px 110px 0px; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size:12px; color:#B93B45; line-height:12px; letter-spacing:.3px; text-align:justify;}
</style>[/html]
[html]<style type="text/css">#ásmundrdec29 b {color:#4b525d; font-weight:bold;} #ásmundrdec29 {margin:auto; width:455px; padding:10px; padding-bottom:150px; border:1px solid #fff; background:url( http://i5.photobucket.com/albums/y199/l ... enshot.png) bottom no-repeat #8d9297; font:12px georgia; color:#bec0c3; line-height:12px; text-align:justify;}</style> +300
Her head tilted to the side and let dark auburn locks fall softly into her face. What was beautiful to her? Teeth grinded together as she considered his question. Eyes closed and she silently admitted that there was little beauty in her life. She seemed unable to appreciate the positive aspects of her life anymore. What was left was only that tight ball of hurt and despair brought to her by her uncle’s groping hands and thrusting body. If the hybrid woman had known the art of drowning her pain in drugs and alcohol she would have been far down on that road already. Her strict distance to those substances was what had saved her, for she had not yet experienced their effectiveness. She had watched it twist and alter her loved ones’ faces, and the sight had disgusted her.
The girl was surprised to hear that Razekiel did not live a very happy life. Every time she saw him he was all smiles and tranquillity. Was that not happiness? Was the sunshine on his face faked? She hesitated, but decided to attempt to answer the question that he had brought her that was still unanswered. ”Nothing is beautiful anymore,” she mumbled as she looked away from his figure. There was a soft relief left when the words died, but the temporary release Mew Sadira had brought the girl had died with the sound of the gunshot. She was still carrying around on that nasty little secret. She blamed Samael for everything now—wished she could let it out in the open and fall into an embrace of love. She wished she could give into that desire, but it was not possible. ”I thought your life was happy,” she commented dully, looking back at the stoned canine. Things were so rarely what they seemed to be.
[html]
--
A sad admission, ultimately; the prince felt a cold, sad rain wash over him at her words. How tragic, how terrible it was, to live without perceiving beauty. To see no love, no beauty in the eyes of another or in the smile of the sun on warm days; how was it possible? Razekiel frowned without hesitation, without the need to make himself appear content any longer. The tragic life she was living, his little neice, depressed him so. What was her story? Where had she come from? Even that, he did not know. Razekiel himself had been born into a cursed family with an absent father; from the beginning he and his two littermates had been said to be destined for something different, something great than the rest. Ahemait, with her disappearance, had ultimately failed; Samael, however, had made strides past the other bloodthirsty Lykoi. Razekiel, the last of the three, lived a life on drugs and booze, enjoying some false reality he constantly created for himself. It was a terrible way to live, and yet he found beauty and happiness in it. Halo would not be able to share in the same.
He dipped his head, straw eyes cast to the soil. It was not often that Razekiel felt so helpless, made aware that his words were meaningless to someone like she. It was an overwhelming concept that such different beings could be still related, but even that relation was distant. He and Samael, however, were not distant at all. "You are one like my brother," he said quietly, almost beneath his breath. "Samael is fated for great things, but a troubled life he found happiness in. I hope yours is more fortunate." Though her snide comment brought a twitch to his ear, he said nothing more.
<style type="text/css">
.razocean b {font-weight:bold; color:#883E4A; letter-spacing:1px;}
.razoceanooc {font-style:italic; color:#B93B45; padding:0px; font-family:verdana, sans-serif; font-size:9px;}
.razocean p {text-indent:25px; padding:5px 10px; margin:0px;}
.razocean {margin:0 auto; width:450px; background-color:#FE9E2A; background-image:url( http://i57.photobucket.com/albums/g210/ ... zocean.png); background-position:bottom center; background-repeat:no-repeat; border:1px solid #233036; padding: 0px 0px 110px 0px; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size:12px; color:#B93B45; line-height:12px; letter-spacing:.3px; text-align:justify;}
</style>[/html]
[html]<style type="text/css">#ásmundrdec29 b {color:#4b525d; font-weight:bold;} #ásmundrdec29 {margin:auto; width:455px; padding:10px; padding-bottom:150px; border:1px solid #fff; background:url( http://i5.photobucket.com/albums/y199/l ... enshot.png) bottom no-repeat #8d9297; font:12px georgia; color:#bec0c3; line-height:12px; text-align:justify;}</style> +300
They were all cursed—the taint flowed through their blood and made them terrible. She knew the stories about her blood line well, and it seemed it was as if some kind of god tossing a coin to see if a child would be great or mad. She had wished both, but she did not know how to pull the trigger and lose herself. Samael had shown her gruesome scenes—things that she could not be a part of. He had destroyed her and she was leaving an invisible trail of blood wherever she walked. She had once adored her uncle for the madness she had watched dance within eyes coloured in the hue of freshly drawn blood. Then he had turned on her and had turned real. She couldn’t get over it—how could she ever have wished to become something like that? How could she continue to long for it despite the deep self loathe that feasted away on her damaged soul?
The male’s words seemed innocent enough until the fatal name was spoken out loud. Crimson washed over her vision and made everything very blurry. It was that instant rage of hers that told her body to lift her arms and target him. Halo knew she was graceful when she danced with her sword or practised her combat skills, but there was no grace in her body as she threw herself at the stoned wolf. How could he say such a thing! Angry tears were suddenly running down her face in hot liquid streams and she resented herself for letting him catch her off guard. Fists flew against the man’s chest in badly coordinated, upset manner. "No!" She was not the monster here. How could Razekiel say such a thing?
[html]
Godmoding, with permission! :O
Indeed his words had been nothing but innocent, but with Halo's reaction he still felt no doubt, no regret in having admitted them. It was as if a curse ran through their blood, a genetic tendency for distemper that summarized the Lykoi family as one, with exceptions few and far between. She shrieked and lashed out at him, throwing confused fists at his chest; though he was alarmed at the sudden onslaught, the possibility of a violent reaction was not unheard of in the prince's mind. He had come to know the typical Lykoi well, and the coyote slept with his chiseled bone weapons at the ready each night.
In the eruption, her fists pounded only briefly at his thin, fragile chest—enough to knock the wind out of him, if nothing else—before the coyote seized her wrists and ceased the onslaught. He climbed to his feet, a stern look in his straw eyes, and the coyote pushed her backward. The prince, towering over her, fisted his hands at his sides and glared. "Perhaps you should go now, Halo," the Lykoi growled.
<style type="text/css">
.razocean b {font-weight:bold; color:#883E4A; letter-spacing:1px;}
.razoceanooc {font-style:italic; color:#B93B45; padding:0px; font-family:verdana, sans-serif; font-size:9px;}
.razocean p {text-indent:25px; padding:5px 10px; margin:0px;}
.razocean {margin:0 auto; width:450px; background-color:#FE9E2A; background-image:url( http://i57.photobucket.com/albums/g210/ ... zocean.png); background-position:bottom center; background-repeat:no-repeat; border:1px solid #233036; padding: 0px 0px 110px 0px; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size:12px; color:#B93B45; line-height:12px; letter-spacing:.3px; text-align:justify;}
</style>[/html]
[html]<style type="text/css">#ásmundrdec29 b {color:#4b525d; font-weight:bold;} #ásmundrdec29 {margin:auto; width:455px; padding:10px; padding-bottom:150px; border:1px solid #fff; background:url( http://i5.photobucket.com/albums/y199/l ... enshot.png) bottom no-repeat #8d9297; font:12px georgia; color:#bec0c3; line-height:12px; text-align:justify;}</style> Hope this was alright! poke me if not! She doesn't necessarily have to hit him when she tries to scratch him ;D
His grasp was hard when his fingers closed around her wrists. Ruby eyes glared, but she felt some sense return the moment he grasped hold of her. Disgusting male! The woman withdrew and shook him loose, watching him with gloomy eyes as he climbed to his feet. That fucking bastard. He pushed her backward and she let clawed fingers pounce after his form. ”Don’t touch me!” the crazed woman spat with that beautiful voice leaking with resentment as she backed away from him. Beyond this pathetic dope head cover rested the same madness that currently was rampaging through his brother. She was certain of this—bared her glistering white fangs at him openly when he told her to go. Why would she wish to spend a moment longer with the psychopath’s brother? ”Eat shit,” she growled grimly as she turned and marched away in hurried, furious steps. She wanted to draw her sword and slice him to bits, but focused on her senses as she moved away from the dirtbag, making certain to be prepared if he chose to assault her in any way. They were good at doing shit like that, the Lykois.
|
