I feel the air rush out from the center

Larkspur D'Angelo · 07-10-2011, 01:23 PM

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pray to your god, open your heart

Kikikikikikikiki. Oh he's wearing this now. And a knife on a belt. Forward dated to July 11th.

With the barn more or less completed, Larkspur felt as if his duties were finally worthy of the pack. Sirius had impressed upon him what Salsola meant early on, and now that he had contributed (and would do so further in the future) there came a nagging need to show his loyalty further. Anyone could build a barn; it would take dedication to have their sign cut into his flesh. The marks on his arms were proof it was not the first scarification process he had encountered, but he doubted this one would be able to resemble the prophecy cut in white. Even Wisteria, who knew about these sorts of things, could not explain it to him. She reasoned it off with magic, and Larkspur had to agree. Misery was nothing less than a prophet, after all.

Heavy steps carried him towards the area he knew to be the Crone’s residence, large feet kicking up dust as he traveled. Larkspur had taken to wear the clothing Eris had given him, finding it loose enough for him to move while gaining useful pockets. Not much was kept in these, of course, but he figured that Eris had wanted him to wear the silly thing and so he did. After all, there had been little given to him during their courtship—this was something public he could display, as he did with knife strapped to the belt.

The burly wolf stopped near the Crone’s home, and called out to her. “Crone?”

Tlantli Kimaris · 07-10-2011, 01:51 PM

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Tlantli doesn't have any shiny clothes, but she wears a lot of jewelry on her arms and has a lot of scars...and a belt...and that's it...

mall-caps;font-variantmall-caps;letter-spacing:4px;">THE SPARK OF DAWN

The ground buttons of the cactus burned the inside of her nose as they were inhaled, the powder causing her fire eyes to water while the drug began its work. The effects were quick — colours became brighter, shapes more shapely, and sounds more distinct as she listened to the world breathe — physical pain rose in the dead tissue of her many decorative scars, but she ignored it. She had a task. Momotztli would not protect her sister on his own; Eris was no more a true coyote than Tlantli was a wolf, but the Auxiliary deserved the protection of her Sun God, who would (of course) trump whatever corruption Larkspur's faith had seeded into her. With eyes opened to another world, she began the process of sacrificing in the name of the woman she called family. Fire consumed the flesh of a rabbit, sliced from belly to cheeks so that her God could find the parts he wanted without trouble.

But something distracted her. A booming voice, made louder from the mescaline in her system, rang out through the spiral-shaped home she'd made her own. Outrage flew into her set of vague emotions, anger so powerful that it brought her to her feet, staggering to the entrance. "" Her words came full in hateful Spanish, a language she spoke with such ease over the English words commonly used around her. It didn't help her now, of course; what she found outside of her home did not understand the sharp and quick words of her mother tongue. Large and dark, handsome in his own way though Tlantli would never tell a soul, was Larkspur with his pumpkin eyes. Her features set into a frown, fire eyes wandering over muscle and fur and overall wolven bulk. "Oh. Ess you. Waht do you wahnt, Lahrkspar." She had no time for the ramblings of an imbecile.

Larkspur D'Angelo · 07-11-2011, 10:36 AM

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pray to your god, open your heart

I feel the love <3

For as stupid as the woman thought him, Larkspur was hardly dumb. His simple ways were brutish, his faith archaic and savage, and his customs terrible and cruel. Those he had seen Eris perform were no different, but Eris lacked faith. She would be cursed with or without her gods. He narrowed his eyes slightly at the woman’s tone, but his gaze was dropped and his large frame did its best to show her submission. The briefest brush of his own muzzle against her face was given before he stepped back. Even if she was revolted by him, even she could not deny the customs put in place by Sirius.

“I have come fer th’ Mark,” he said firmly, knowing this was within her duty to perform. It was something he believed that he owed the Family, and unlike those who hid their signs as to better spy, Larkspur was hardly a forgettable face. His mark would be shown plainly and with pride—there was no other home for him to return to, now.

Tlantli Kimaris · 07-13-2011, 11:13 AM

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He'll probably have to duck or crouch to fit in. >.> She's small, and so is her home.

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She knew little of the ways of Larkspur, only that she did not approve of his influence on her non-family — she could not see the reasons behind Eris' foolish whims to be with him, but she was not a wolf and she had not lived the life that Eris herself had. Regardless, there was disdain within her for the larger, dark-furred man who was now outside of her spiral-shaped home. She watched his eyes narrow for the briefest moment before he dropped it away, her muscles tensed in disgust as he came closer to participate in the new custom of greeting another member of the family — she returned the action while he was leaned over, but stiffly. Sirius wasn't there, he couldn't see her denial to accept Larkspur in such a cold way, and she would have had no fear had the chocolate-furred man been viewing anyways. Tlantli often blurred the lines of hierarchy within the family lands.

It didn't surprise her that he wanted his mark, but she did snort out a laugh at the idea. "Essn't this whaye you haft your woman, Lahrkspare? She ess just ahs ahble ahs aye ahm." Of course, she didn't turn him away — her back turned to him to return to her den, a hand beckoning him inside of the small area. He would have to suffer with the confines of the space and the herb-scented air if he wanted his mark enough. It was her place to give it, after all — it didn't mean she had to accommodate the recipient with any special conveniences.

Larkspur D'Angelo · 07-19-2011, 04:03 PM

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pray to your god, open your heart

Slight PP with her motioning to a spot on the floor.

He did not miss her distain for him, but it was met with equal prejudice. Inferni had warped his view of coyotes and turned them into savages. Tlanti was no different, with her funny accent and too-thin body. If Sirius had not placed her in a position of power the wolf would have dismissed her presence entirely. Still, both the Boss and Eris valued the woman, and like it or not, Larkspur would need to give her the respect afforded to her rank.

He stared after her and saw he would barely fit, but did not desire to shift and make her wait further. Ducking low, he shuffled after her and once an empty space of the floor was presented, sat eagerly. At least then he took up less space and did not brush the ceiling with his back. “Eris has other duties,” he answered carefully, for he had no desire to see (much less let her brand him) the dark hybrid. Orange eyes remained clouded; he was worried she might not take his explanation to heart.

Tlantli Kimaris · 07-23-2011, 11:10 AM

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mall-caps;font-variantmall-caps;letter-spacing:4px;">THE SPARK OF DAWN

Though she had no faith in Larkspur's intelligence, he was capable of following simple commands and she appreciated how quickly he stuffed himself into her smallish home. With all of the elegance of a graceless man, she sat herself down near to him, gathering up what she would need to carve the inward-pointing arrows into his flesh. She paused at his words, glancing sideways while reaching for the alcohol used in cleaning the wound. "Ahre you sure? Duties...more importahnt than mahrking her mayte?" She snorted at the idea — Eris might have had other duties, but she wondered if they were truly so important.

Her fingers clasped around the knife as she waited for him to indicate where he desired his brand to be placed, opened eyes wandering him without a sense of shame. She still couldn't see what he offered Eris — he was large, but he was a wolf and though she did not see Eris as the coyote she saw herself to be, she did see Eris as a coyote. A soft clicking noise escaped her jaws as she shook her head. "Aye cahnnot see it. Aye cahnnot see why Aye-reese, aye strong coyote woman, would choose you. You ahre not deserving — you ahre a wolf." Her words were blunt, one hand reaching out in her attempt to push his face about as she studied it.

Larkspur D'Angelo · 07-28-2011, 12:58 AM

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pray to your god, open your heart

He's motioning to his right shoulder blade. Kinda like this positioning.

A rather bitter smile forced its way onto his face. Whatever else went on in the world, Eris would always be the center of her own universe. She was self centered and if not for her body and her magic, Larkspur would have found her insufferable. Both ears turned back at the woman’s voice, orange eyes glimmering with the faintest hint of aggression. Often he wondered about his mate’s duties as well, but in Salsoa, he was not able to question her.

Besides, they had an understanding. Larkspur remained still as the Kimaris woman’s hands played with his face, studying him as he might study one of the horses. A dull sort of humor bubbled up in response to this action. She clearly thought of him much like he thought of the beasts of burden in Salsola. “She is not a coyote,” Larkspur said plainly. If looked like one, he never would have chosen her. “Eris always chooses wolves.” Haku. Ouija. Whomever else she might have slept with behind his back. Suddenly, his face twisted with a deep anger and he looked away from the Crone. “Here,” the Arbiter said, pointing to his right shoulder. “On my back.”

Tlantli Kimaris · 07-28-2011, 01:16 AM

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mall-caps;font-variantmall-caps;letter-spacing:4px;">THE SPARK OF DAWN

His smile went unnoticed, and perhaps it was for the best, as she studied other things and spoke her accented words. There was no reason to play nice — they disliked each other, so why beat around the bush? It didn't matter in the confines of her home. All that mattered was his compliance as he allowed her to touch his face and study him like livestock. He disagreed with her claims — Eris was not a coyote, she always chose wolves, but the idea simply made Tlantli laugh until she caught sight of anger in the man's face. He turned himself away and designated a spot. She fell silent, an uncharacteristic display of respect and...sympathy? Something she had said had wounded him, opening up some deeper problem that she had no desire to learn about.

She moved, taking up a place at his back in order to better access one broad shoulder. "You see what you wahnt to see, Lahrkspare, but she ess aye coyote. Eterne saw it. Aye see it, in more thahn just her. She chooses wolves, but she knows what she ess — we cahnnot change our paths in life. Accepting them ess most beneficial." What words of wisdom she could muster, even while shoving someone's opinion back down their throat. She believed Eris knew she was, somewhere inside, a coyote. She had lived in Eterne without issue. She had learned their ways. Though she was more than just one of the fae-creatures, everyone made decisions of their blood.

As silence overtook her, she cut away the fur that covered flesh, getting right to work as the bone knife carved the lines of the Hand into the back of Larkspur — as she worked, she focused on the easy shape, unwilling to be distracted. It was easy to do a scar, but it took patience to do it well, and though she disliked Larkspur, she refused to harm the Arbiter. He was the pack's primary source of heavy labour, after all, and in the most distant sense, he was family.

Larkspur D'Angelo · 07-29-2011, 11:55 PM

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pray to your god, open your heart

Eris had only ever mentioned her role in Eterne as a princess. Yet she had come back. She had come back for a reason. No one gave up power without a reason; his sister had not, after all. Wisteria had been cast out with the same hate-fueled fire that had nearly killed him. In his mind all realms were like that of the Khalif—driven by fanatics and held together by fear. Salsola was no different; their god was Sirius, Loki reborn in earthly form. Eris was no god. She was barely even a person to him anymore.

Her thick voice brought contemplation to his mind, and Larkspur fell silent as he chewed over the words. Then a sharp pain cut into his shoulder, causing him to breathe in sharply. Hot. Wounds always felt so hot. Blood began to seep from the cuts, but he had been cut before. The pain separated from his mind. “When I was born,” he said slowly, as if the words were hard to form. Sometimes they were. “My fur marked me as…wrong.” Larkspur breathed out, finding that the sharp pain had become reduced to a dull ache. “But I changed my path. Eris did too.”

Tlantli Kimaris · 07-30-2011, 01:03 AM

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mall-caps;font-variantmall-caps;letter-spacing:4px;">THE SPARK OF DAWN

The process was a simple one, straight lines and hot blood and stained fingers as she worked to carve the mark into his shoulder over and over again. It was the same process as it had been with others: Sirius, Janos, Bastion, herself. The blood didn't bother her — in fact, the sickly metallic evoked an awkward excitement in the same way it had while scarring the Boss. She grimaced at the notion, shoving the undesired desires back into the caves of her mind.

Larkspur's voice distracted her for only a moment, her ears shifting to listen to each careful syllable. Something about his fur making him wrong — well, he was wrong, but she certainly wouldn't blame it on his fur. Having lived in the golden world of Eterne, she took a special liking to the black or white coats of certain wolves; black and white were not the colors of coyotes, as far as she was aware. She grunted a response to his final words, unwilling to argue with him — she didn't believe he had changed his path, for it couldn't have been his path to begin with if he had so easily pulled away, but arguing with something like him was pointless. Instead, she paused in her work, glancing up from the bloody mark just long enough to glance at one pumpkin-orange eye from the awkward angle at which she sat.

"Aye liek your fur. It doesn't mayke you wrong."

Larkspur D'Angelo · 07-30-2011, 01:22 AM

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pray to your god, open your heart

He had been scarred before; Misery had done that to him while he lay, recovering from a beating that had almost killed him. So drugged on opiates was he that the words he had spoken came in odd bursts. Larkspur did not remember them. When he had woken from the haze his arms had been cut open and turned white by magic. The pain had been incredible. Learning he himself had spoken the prophecy was even further proof that the dark god had claimed him. Larkspur and Misery alone knew what the words were. None living spoke the language of the dead, save those who had met him.

Larkspur turned his head to her voice, meeting one eye the color of the sunset. He did not find Tlanti attractive, both for her breed and her build (for she was too thin, too bony), but admired the veracity of her personality. The words she spoke cut him deeper than her blade, and he looked down at his white hands. A faint smile came across his face. Someone else had told him that, a long time ago.

“My sister thought so too. That’s why she came here.” To save a child that would have been killed to save her soul. Odessa was a bright little girl; if she had been born ill or malformed, she would have been a blight. Instead she was simply proof, to Larkspur, that even the holiest blood could fall.

Tlantli Kimaris · 07-30-2011, 01:41 AM

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She didn't know the inner world of the D'Angelo's mind, and had no desire to delve further into it than he allowed her to see. Their worlds were different, and his breed left her apathetic — his mention of his handsome pelt making him wrong, however, intrigued her. What world had he come from? What world marked another simply for coloration? Yes, her own world shunned the different, those of heavier build and lupus blood, but color seemed so trivial over genetics.

The smile she caught on his jaws surprised her, but as he spoke of his sister she realized what caused the sudden expression of faint joy. Family was important in her own culture, though she rejected her own sister for matters that would be deemed unfair by many, and she believed it was similar in every culture that family was a core importance to all. One small hand patted the Arbiter's shoulder, away from the still-bleeding mark, in a stiff gesture of false sympathy. "Family ess good. Aye wish maye own was in a better place." But no, instead it was in shambles. Baphomet had destroyed them, Astaroth had started to break them apart. Metetztli could do nothing, unable to produce his own heirs. Xochime was a slave. In the mind of the golden Crone, she was all that could save them — and save them she would. With this in mind, she returned to her job of cleaning and carving the wound, a determination showing on her face that rarely surface.

Larkspur D'Angelo · 07-30-2011, 02:22 AM

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pray to your god, open your heart

The world was vast, but pockets formed that were warped, skewed reflections of one another. To shun a pelt was just as easily to shun a breed. Khalif had driven that law into his head from the time he was old enough to eat meat. Starving and desperate he had held onto the only truths he knew—he was meant for such a fate, and that the gods were both cruel and merciful. How else could he have survived four years in a land that burnt their own alive?

Her touch made him shudder like a stallion, unsure of the unfamiliar woman’s intention. He craned his neck to focus one eye on her, hearing the tone that accompanied her lament. Something had driven her to come this far north. While he did not know the exact location of Eterne, he knew it was a long way away. “The only family I have is here,” the wolf said lowly, knowing he and his sister were dead to their parents. “Salvia thinks of you as family,” he added carefully, unsure of whether or not the idea of a wolf being related to her might be offensive. Perhaps it was.

Tlantli Kimaris · 07-30-2011, 02:38 AM

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How was she going to fix what had been taken from her family? It was hard to say. A successful tiacapan would do the trick, but there was so little faith that her brothers would manage to do such a thing and she didn't have the right gender to follow the ehecatl traditions. Still, she wondered if it would help. Would her firstborn be a saving grace to the family she prided? Maybe she'd learn the answer, once she managed to find a suitable partner. There were so few possibilities in Salsola — Itachi was unknown to her and pack cultural standards prevented her from forcing her brother to do the act. It left Sirius, the handsome and intriguing Boss, but she had her reservations about him. As far as she was concerned, he was as much coyote as she, but she wouldn't be strung along and used like other women might and so she avoided the possibility that he'd be useful to her.

Again, the Arbiter's voice drew her back to the real world, and she paused her hands as he spoke of his daughter. "Yes, aye know." She regarded the girl, and her darker brother, as an extension of her family — they were the blood of her non-sister, and had Eris' life been different, she might have still remained a cousin to the significantly different woman. "She ess a good girl. Smahrt. But she ess not a coyote — she never will be. There ess only so much aye can do to please her interests. Ahfter a while, it ess all lost. My world ess not for your kind." She had taught the girl her mother tongue, she had begun the lessons in her graceful fighting, but none of it would be fully recognized by the Crone. Salvia would have to fill in the gaps, something that would prove worth to her 'aunt' and the woman's cruel god.

Larkspur D'Angelo · 07-30-2011, 03:20 AM

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pray to your god, open your heart

Women’s roles as far as their duties to bear children were something Larkspur had never been faced with. He knew that it was expected; Wisteria had told him plainly about such a thing. Misery had wished him to make children, to give a legacy of true D’Angelo’s. Eris had something magical in her blood. Eris looked like Misery. He had chosen her for these reasons alone, and even now, he did not know how much he loved her. Not after what she had done.

He could feel her hands and they felt very real to him. More real than the sham of a mateship he and Eris held onto. For all he knew, she was out with Oujia or some other male right now. Larkspur turned his head forward to hide the dull anger within them. “I don’t trust coyotes,” he admitted lowly, one hand rising to trace the cross shaped scar on his cheek. “But Salvia trusts you, and Eris trusts you…and Sirius saw something in you.” And he trusted Sirius as much as he trusted Haku, if not more. “You must be a strange coyote,” he added, offering her a peculiar smile from over his wounded shoulder.

Tlantli Kimaris · 07-30-2011, 04:13 AM

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She had never adhered to the traditional. Women's roles were the same everywhere, but Eterne was matriarchal in style and the females there (at least amongst the upper class) were given freedom from the oppression of testosterone fueled decisions. She had no desire to be forced into the role of the typical woman — there was no need, not when she had so much control over her own life. Eris' desire to settle was seen as strange. The family unit was important, but settling was strange. At least to the eyes of a young woman.

Her face echoed the surprise felt as he disclosed words she had both expected and not expected. He didn't trust her kind, that was clear enough, but he knew others did. Was she strange? Was she so likeable that it made her strange? His smile was met with a twist of a frown as she tossed the thought around in her head. "Aye ahm no stranger than you, Lahrkspar. Why ahm aye the strange one? In Eterne, it ess not me who ess different, ahnd aye do not think Aye ahm the different one in Salsola." They were contrasts of each other, but she was more similar to him that either really considered. She didn't like to admit it. Still, as she considered that she might be strange, she exhaled a breath to disclose to him — a man she openly felt disdain toward — a fact she hadn't told even to Eris. "Maye mother, Nahualli, ess ay hybrid woman. Aye ahm...ay hybrid woman." Though she labelled herself a coyote, there was enough wolf blood there to have shown in the shape and features of her brother — the truth was clear enough that she was not perfect in the eyes of her own civilization, but there was no need to spread it around.

Larkspur D'Angelo · 07-31-2011, 12:39 PM

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pray to your god, open your heart

The pulsing heat in his shoulder was a thing that would linger. He knew that scars needed to be made, and knew that the pain now was something he would need to feel again. This did not matter. The bear had cut his haunch deeply during its final hour, and that incident had solidified a loyalty that Larkspur would never break. Until Sirius fell, the dark wolf would serve him. Unlike Haku, the poison-eyed hybrid was someone who would not go mad with demons in his heart. Sirius would conquer them.

Both ears flared back to listen to her, for he did not feel comfortable moving until she dismissed him. She spoke of her home, and spoke of her blood. He studied the shape of her face as best he could without being rude, and wondered if he had missed this because she willed it. Magic, after all, was a powerful thing. “I don’t know much ‘bout coyotes,” he still pronounced the word with the thick “kai-yoat” as it had been learned in the Appalachians. “, but I know they’re damned clever. So I’d imagine yer blood can be whatever y’want it to be.”

He shrugged and winced slightly, though it was a faint gesture he quickly tried to bury.

Tlantli Kimaris · 07-31-2011, 01:07 PM

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The warmth of his blood stained her fingers, a thing that was so familiar that it seemed right. Not because it was his blood. Because sacrifice was her greatest profession, and animals all bled the same way. So many animals had stained her golden fur, turning the sunlight shade a tarnished gold that washed away in the end. Still, she had begun to notice that they were darker, richer, than the rest of her — the lives of so many coloring them a more saturated shade. It was strange.

While she went on about family and blood, she didn't see the orange eyes of the Arbiter watching her, studying her. Her own eyes focused on the bleeding wound — it was more important than the rest of her surroundings. Some final lines were made, going over an already defined shape one last time, as he offered his own insight in the coyote way. His sentiments caused her to look up once more, focusing on his face with subtly narrowed gaze. Clever? Yes, they were clever, but did it really offer her the ability to be whatever she wished? The narrowed eyes closed and she released one of her strange, glassy laughs into the air. "That ess silly indeed, Lahrkspare; Aye could not be ay bird if Aye wanted to be ay bird, could Aye?"

And then as quickly as it came, her mirth was gone, left with stoney seriousness as she focused her gaze on him again. "Whatever magik she thinks you haft, ahnd whatever magik she has hersahlf...they ahre not the same. You should be careful, Lahrkspare; mixing magik, playing with fayte, these ahre dangerous things. You risk more than jchust yoursahlf by trying." It was known that she did not approve of her non-sister and the woman's mate, but she would not openly condemn them. Eris was a grown woman. Eris was a smart woman. But Larkspur had his own life, his own culture, that was far different from the beliefs Eris had grown to understand in Eterne — though she could make no true estimate of what Eris took from Larkspur himself, she knew Eris as a mirror of the Atototzli, and an uneasy knot had settled in the pit of her stomach as she worried about Momotztli's wrath should Eris' venture fail.

Words of wisdom finished, the remaining alcohol was poured over the wound, cleaning it of the blood that had been there. "We ahre finished." There was no goodbye as she collected what she had been using, moving to return it to its proper place. If he wanted to stay, so be it, but she had a sacrifice to finish and peyote to snort again.

Larkspur D'Angelo · 08-03-2011, 03:15 PM

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pray to your god, open your heart

Larkspur, for his simple ways, was not romantic. He did not believe that thinking about being something would make it true—but blood was another matter entirely. She could claim herself to be pure and he would never have known; she was slight and tawny and made of sharp lines. It was clearer in others to see their mixed blood. Sirius, especially, but Itachi, as well. He had compromised himself to follow those whose blood he despised. Perhaps he had changed, after all.

The seriousness of her tone made his eyes turn terrible. Fangs gleamed as black lips pulled away, yellowing with age. He showed no fury to her, but there was a deep rage boiling within his belly. “She does not believe,” he said lowly, as if this might explain everything. Eris had laughed openly at his faith. It would come back to her, this he believed, one way or another. The things growing inside of her would suffer. “My gods are not her own, but they will hurt her.” One way or another, they would come. Around his neck, the proof whispered still. Tak always spoke loudest when he came for blood.

Tlantli Kimaris · 08-03-2011, 05:08 PM

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She crushed up the dried button of cactus and worked to grind it with a solid stone against the surface of her shelf, expecting the dark wolf to leave without further question. Snorting up the powdered drug distracted her enough to realize that his scent didn't fade — the burning caused her hand to slam against the shelf area, and his voice startled her enough to cause the coyote to knock most of her belongings off. Fire eyes focused on the features of the dark wolf, wondering why he was still there. Didn't she say it was done?

He spoke of gods and she cleared her throat, bringing herself to settle before him with crossed legs. "She thinks she does not haft to believe. The Atotoztli, they ahre maye...mm, devout? That ess the word? They ruin much of life for her kind. Aye ahm not surprised she has no more faith. But she will learn. There ess only so much that aye cahn do to offer her safety -- Momotztli does not help her. Her lack of faith will ruin her, ahnd maybe your children ahs well." Salvia and Pandemic seemed healthy enough, not stained by the hands of Gods, but Salvia and Pandemic were not a product of a mateship that would go wrong; this new group had all of the dangers of being polluted.

Her eyes turned to the shape of a stone eagle she had never noticed in the past — had he always worn the necklace? "Aye do not know your Gods, but it ess...dangerous of her to disregard. Maybe she ess more foolish thahn Aye first believed." Her eyes didn't leave the stone shape, even as she voiced her disapproval of her non-sister's lack of beliefs, and a moment passed before she moved again. Muscles shifted, bringing the golden body closer to that of the charcoal Arbiter as she leaned forward to examine the pendant. A hand raised briefly, meaning to touch it, but something compelled her to stay away. Larkspur's Gods were strange, much like the dark man himself, and while she did not respect him, she feared them. "El águila. This ess...like the snake? Powerful, for your Gods? What does it mean?" Her curiosity wrote itself onto her face as she turned her head upwards to look at Larkspur's pumpkin gaze.

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