I am your heavy eyelids
#1
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This regards the murder! For Onus, rahrahrah. Big Grin Backdated to Feb 1. Location: The Trenches.

He had been guarding the lighthouse ever since. He did not know how long "ever since" was, or how long he had been here, but it had become his duty. He had a purpose now, a purpose in life that would guide him until he found the truth. It might sound poetic to anyone who had not experienced such a thing before, but to Barthélémy, it was simply pure fact. He would remain here, watching over the rotting corpses and the maggot-infested wounds until he -- or someone else -- could find the answer.



Barthélémy would not waver in his resolve. Nothing could make him move -- unless such a "nothing" included spiders. He hated spiders. Barthélémy shivered at the mere thought, then frowned, clenching his jaw tightly. No, he could not, would not, budge. He would keep his eye on the bodies, however many of them there were, and make sure no one interfered with them. If someone thought he had killed them, so be it. It would not matter in the end anyways, because he would find out the truth. He would find the person who had left them in such a sorry state, with guts trailing across the floor, legs ripped entirely out of bodies and piled in a corner. There was blood everywhere, on almost every surface. Even now, as he stared through the doorway into the room, he felt nothing but a quiet calmness. He tilted his head, letting his eyes drift across the planes of the room once more. He would find the murderer.


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#2
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The wind blew harshly as he walked over the open land near the coast. His trench coat mostly deflected it though. The coastline had turned from gentle sloping beaches to high rocky crags. Sometimes the coyote couldn't help but wonder at mother nature. How easily one thing turned into another. How much diversity could lay in such a small place. The old human world had its wonders as well, but they were far different that this. Most of the time, when possible, he stuck to the cities. He simply felt more at "home" there (though a "home" was a far and distant concept for him). But he didn't mind coming out and exploring the wonders of the natural world now and again.



Onus' nose twitched as the scent of a wolf was blown to him on the air. Veiled eyes searched the area and in the distance saw an old lighthouse with a light figure standing at its entrance. Peculiar. What did a wolf want with a lighthouse? Why was he standing outside of it, unmoving, instead of going in. His direction swooped in the direction of the old building and its apparent guardian, wishing to investigate this closer. As he approached he said nothing, preferring to wait and see how the canine would respond to his presence.




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#3
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No matter how calming the stench of death was, it could not soothe Barthélémy's nervousness around strangers, even for a second. He felt the presence of someone descend quickly and silently behind him, appearing so suddenly Barthélémy yelped in surprise. His yelp was accompanied by a scuffling of his feet, which caused him to trip over the step to the lighthouse and crash into the door frame. He shook his head, feeling extremely disoriented and not liking this feeling. His eyes watered, causing his vision to go blurry. He squinted, trying to see who was there, realizing only too late that this... canine had been the cause of his misfortune.



He frowned, then looked over at the other creature. He looked pointedly into the room, then back at the creature, waiting for the male to say something. It was only then that Barthélémy realized the creature's eyes were covered with some sort of cloth -- could he not see, then? Barthélémy frowned, then coughed awkwardly. He pushed off the door frame with his shoulder and glanced back inside. "Ils sont mort," he stated plainly, not knowing if the other male would understand him or not.


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#4
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While the usual reactions he got from strangers were more tame and skeptical, he had frightened some people before. The loud yelp made his ears twitch and he watched as the other man stumbled backwards and hit his head. The question was this guy just always so jumpy or was he trying to hide something. The most dangerous criminals were cool and collected for the most part. So even if this wolf had done something wrong, he was obviously an amateur. Probably a crime committed in the heat of the moment if anything.



The blue-eyed man looked at him, then at the door, then back at him. Then he spoke in a language that Onus had no idea what it was or what he had meant. He only knew English, and since everyone else around here he had met did as well, he could only assume that this luperci couldn't. "Don't understand." That most likely hadn't been understood either, ironically. The male took one hand out of the pocket of his coat and pointed to the door. "What is in there?"




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#5
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Why couldn't the male see them? They were right there, right through the doorway, so close, so close. The other canine would not be allowed to enter -- not unless he had a very, very good reason -- but so far, he had not even looked. Had he? Couldn't he smell them? Barthélémy could smell them just fine. All of them, every single one of them, no matter how many there were. Barthélémy inched closer to the doorway, then stuck his head through it and gestured inside with a jerk of his head. "Venez par ici, examiner là," he said, pausing for a moment, then glanced back at the male. The stench was overpowering now, encircling him and tangling its fingers in Barthélémy's fur. For a moment, he felt calm, but was just as soon agitated by the male's lack of understanding.



But maybe that was Barthélémy's fault? Perhaps he couldn't see, but... it... looked like he could? The other male had pointed at the door, said something, but the words meant nothing to Barthélémy. He had already encountered this problem before: no one could understand Barthélémy, either. Barthélémy frowned, realizing how much of a bother this must be to the coyote as well. "Peux-tu voir? Ton yeux.... peux-tu les cadavres? Les corps? Il y a plus charognes...? Corps? Cadavres?" He didn't know if changing the words would work, but maybe there was something this male could understand, or at least, relate to? Barthélémy had to show him what was here, someway, somehow. He would make him understand.

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#6
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Hahaha, I thought there was a door, not just an opening XD A little PP, let me know if you want any of it changed!



His attention had been so focused on the male in front of him he hadn't though to sniff around. But as soon as the other gestured to look inside it hit him. The scent of death was emanating from the lighthouse. His nose twitched and for a split second his lips showed his pearly fangs while the other's back was turned. Onus stuck his head through as the foreign wolf muttered some words that sounded similar to "corpse". That was something he could understand. Christ. The inside of the building was a bloodbath. Bodies everywhere, mutilated, blood strewn all over, severed limbs in corners. He had not at all expected to come across such a murder scene here. It seemed his trip to these lands would not be a waste.



Quick as a viper striking he pushed the jumpy wolf against the doorway, invisibly staring deep into his eyes. "Did you do that?" he said as he jerked his head to the inside of the lighthouse. He doubted it. This guy didn't seem stable enough or mad enough for such carnage. "Know who did?" Whatever he asked wouldn't be understood, and whatever answer he got probably wouldn't be either. Unless it was through some further gesticulation.




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#7
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We can say the door was half-ajar! XD And 's cool.

It worked, it worked, somehow the male understood him. Barthélémy forced down a wide grin, not wanting to look weird grinning and staring at dead bodies. Instead, Barthélémy watched the other canine examine the room and began to shuffle forward, not wanting him to go in or touch anything -- or anyone. Barthélémy did not want anyone going inside and disrupting it in case it somehow helped him -- or someone else -- find the murderer. The arctic luperci had never investigated a murder before, so he was hoping he could find someone who would. He was content with finding the different people to do the job. He would stand watch.



Barthélémy moved to block the male's path, but as he went to move, the male suddenly turned on him, slamming him into the door frame. Barthélémy felt his head hit the door frame (again) and struggled for a few moments to breathe. The males fingers dug into Barthélémy's skin, causing him to whimper once more, struggling to get free. He whined, low in his throat, unable to bring himself to reply. "Han?" he struggled, shifting slightly and trying to relieve the pressure of the male's hands on his neck. He did not like this, did not like this at all. This hurt, hurt, hurt and Barthélémy did not like being hurt. "A-a... arrêt..." he whined, feeling tears well up in his eyes.

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#8
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The reactions the foreigner had to his being manhandled only reaffirmed the fact that he would not be capable of doing what had been done in the lighthouse. One passion killing perhaps, but there were a hell of a lot more than one body in there. No, the one he was gripping wasn't the guilty party. Onus slowly released his grip on the wolf and turned to walk into the building. He wasn't going to get any answers he understood from that male, so he would have to investigate the scene. The smell of rotting flesh was almost choking. Good thing he was used to the smell and it bothered him little more than any other unpleasant odor.



The coated canine knelt down to the closest corpse. With one hand he picked and brushed the maggots away from their feast to try and get a better look at the wound that ran across his chest and abdomen. Damn. The little pests had already done a good job of cleaning up whatever the original wound had been. The meat was smooth and wider than it would have been originally, though not by much. How long had it been since this had happened? Investigation always was better right after the crime. This body was also missing an arm. He leaned in closer to see if he could determine how the limb had been separated from the torso. It appeared to have been hacked off with something mildly sharp, not ripped out of the socket.




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#9
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The creature released his iron grip and Barthélémy felt his legs give out and tumbled into a heap on the floor. His heart was racing and his breath was coming in gasps, but at least he could breathe. He narrowed his eyes as he watched the stranger think, annoyed he had not apologize, or even glanced back at Barthélémy. "Bâtard," he muttered foully after the coyote, slowly pushing himself to his feet. That coyote's grip was strong! Bart hoped he didn't do anything to make the coyote mad and do that again, whatever he had done in the first place. But what had he done? He had showed the coyote the bodies and waited, and then...



Bart flattened his ears as he tried to think, tried to figure out what had made the coyote snap. Wait. Did the coyote think he had done this? Bart shuffled closer to the doorway, following the coyote to the ledge and stared in. He couldn't have done this! How could he? It was vile and gruesome and... and the coyote did not know that. But the other canine had let him go, which meant he thought Bart was innocent, right? That must be it!



Bart moved closer, watching as the coyote started to walk in, then bent down in front of one of the bodies. "Non!" he shouted after the coyote, then slowly moved closer. "Eille! Toé ne peux pas entrer là!" he protested, jumping to stand in front of the coyote, being mindful of the blood on the floor. He frowned, then shook his head, and pointed at the door with his paw. "Ne touché pas!" he demanded, his words coming out a little garbled.



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#10
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As he was inspecting the various wounds on this first corpse the jittery wolf called out something that could only be no. Onus really never showed any kind of emotion, but he was getting annoyed by this. He knew what he was doing. This was his life's work for fuck's sake. Hidden eyes glared up at the man as he pointed towards the door. The coyote slowly and deliberately shook his head. "No." This guy couldn't make him leave, he didn't have the strength or the guts. But he didn't want him trying to meddle in the investigation the whole time. "I know what to do. I'm investigating." How could he make this male get off his back.



He pointed to where his eyes were and then at the body. "Looking for clues. To find the murderer." The coated man pointed to his head. "Going to solve." Was any of that going to make sense to him? Hell if he knew. Onus could only hope that some of it had stuck. He stood back up, searching for the next place to investigate. In one corner all of the disembodied limbs lay together. He moved toward it. Was there some kind of pattern to them?




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#11
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What? No, it wasn't no for Barthélémy, it was no for the snoopy coyote! He was not allowed in here, not here, not here! Barthélémy needed to find someone who could find the murderer. This coyote was not allowed in here! Barthélémy started forward and began to raise his leg to paw at the coyote, but paused. This coyote was strong and what if he became angry at Bart again? Barthélémy flattened his ears, then frowned, shaking his head. "Non, toé non! Ne... ne... moé... p-p-as..." he replied, but felt his confidence waver as the coyote began to speak again. He recoiled slightly, staring at the other male in confusion. "J't'en câlisse!" He was tired of the coyote saying things he didn't understand and was past the point of caring. So what! Damn it all! Barthélémy frowned sourly and cursed under his breath once more, but in a quieter voice.



The coyote began pointing again and to this, Barthélémy shook his head. Why was he pointing at his cloth? Barthélémy knew he could not see (his eyes were probably all white like the crazy dingo he had met a year ago) and he wanted to hide it. Barthélémy did not mind that the coyote was blind. He did mind that the coyote was here touching things and ruining everything. The coyote was supposed to help Bart find someone to find the murderer! But he wasn't! This coyote was completely useless!



Again, the coyote pointed at himself, this time to his hat. And again, Barthélémy did not know what the male wanted. The coyote dropped his arm, then stood up and started to walk farther into the room. "Sorter!" he shouted, pointing at the door. "Toé fais massacrer le travail!"




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#12
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Oh, these two XD



The hair along his spine began to rise and stand on end. This little ingrate was not getting the message and he had no idea what else to do. He was working Onus' last nerve and that was an impressive feat considering how controlled the coyote normally was. This murder was serious though. There was a very dangerous murderer on the loose and the little foreign peon was meddling in his attempts to investigate the crime scene. Once again the wolf pointed at the door and said something in his native language. Black eyes glimmering under the cloth he rounded on him again. "You little worm! I am doing my job! I am trying to find out who did this! You understand idiot? Murderer! I am going to find them! I am going to kill them!" And you if you don't get out of the way.



A deep menacing growl rumbled in his chest as he turned away from the white man and went back to looking around at the light house. Why were the limbs that the murderer had taken off all piled over here? What kind of purpose did that serve? From the looks of it, most of them were arms. There was a spare leg here and there, but the majority of them were arms. Not only that, but they were all left arms. Now that had to say something. He just wasn't sure what that was yet.




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#13
Like an old married couple. But not old or married! :3

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He was mad. As in mad, not just mad, not just glaring at him or waving something like a hand or paw or something -- what? Was he yelling at him? Me? Why? Wait -- and idly threatening anyone. He was shouting, saying things in a language Barthélémy did not understand, but in the manner he most certainly did. His shouts were like his grip, how he had latched on to Barthélémy's neck and shoulders, how he did not let go, how Barthélémy thought it hurt, how the coyote had not agreed.



Barthélémy whimpered. He flattened his ears and shook his head resolutely. No, no, no, you are mean, very mean. His voice wavered in and out, a cyclical cycle that increased and decreased in intensity. Now, the waves were coming and they were bringing with them feelings of doubt and fear, perhaps for his life. He flattened his ears, then took a step forward, courage flowing up from his toes and settling comfortably in the pit of his stomach. If this coyote was going to be stubborn, he would, too! He shook his head in reply to the other's growls, frowning slightly. He saw the coyote begin to move toward the pile of arms and followed him, hovering nearby. "Je ne pense pas, m'sieur!" he shouted, trying to think of a way to get rid of this coyote. He did not have time to waste here, not with this annoying creature. Unfortunately, he could not think of anything else to say or do. This coyote was not refused to listen to reason, refused to leave, refused to do anything. Barthélémy sighed.


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#14
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The wolf was a sniveling little coward. He would pose no threat to him, even if he wouldn't leave. Though if he seriously tried to interfere with the investigation he would scare him off. Hopefully it wouldn't come to actually hurting him, but no one had ever died of a broken finger. He did his best to never hurt civilians, but when they wouldn't stop pushing him sometimes he had no choice. If they wanted to obstruct justice then they would have to deal with the inevitable consequences.



The foreigner continued to shadow him and yelled something at him again (if one could call that a yell), but Onus did his best to simply ignore it. As long as the annoyance kept his hands to himself he could watch and pout all he wanted. His mind ticked as he stared at the limbs. Left. Left. Why the left? Obviously the killer had had some reason for it, no matter how insane it may have been. Perhaps...they had lost an arm? And wanted to take it from others, even though they were dead? To a normal mind it wouldn't make any sense, but to the mind of a mass murderer it probably did. It was only a theory though, and one he wouldn't stake the whole case on.



An idea came to him. Masked eyes turned back to the whimpering man. Was he a member of a pack? Those that lived here should be notified that a killer was on the loose. He could easily do such a thing himself, but perhaps if he could explain it he could get this guy off his back. "Pack? You live in a pack?" The chances of him understanding were slim, he knew, but he didn't know how else to communicate. "Should warn them. Whoever did this is dangerous."




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#15
Perhaps Onus could get annoyed at Bart and chase him away so he could look through everything? If Bart hung at the door to watch, maybe he would be able to figure out that Onus is actually helping him through the powers of observation?!

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The coyote was ignoring him. The silence was oppressive, restrictive, suffocating him and pulling him underneath. But Barthélémy could not give up, now could he? No, he had to continue onward with his noble goal in mind, his justified purpose set atop the ledge by the windowsill so he could reach it later, when he had grown, was older and wiser. For now, he could do nothing but stare at it, so far away, but close enough -- close because he held it in his chest -- and far because he could reach and stretch and never touch it. It was just an idea, nothing physical, nothing real. Not as real as the fear he had felt, the sorrow, the anger, all the emotions contained in this little room. In this little place he knew was so important, but could not fathom why. But he knew. Oh, he knew what he knew. Unfortunately, the only thing he could truly know was how very little he understood, how limited his thoughts were, how restrained, how... unfortunate.



Bart watched with shadowed eyes, cocking his head to one side, then righting himself just as soon. He did not understand.



But he knew.



The coyote said something. Bart did not understand him. But he was expecting this now. The creature's foreign tongue was still that: foreign. He could not hope to communicate his desires to the coyote, and likewise, the coyote could not properly intone his own to Bart. "Tu... tu... tu...toé... toé... toé..." he said at last, pointing at the coyote each time. "Moi, moé..." he said pointing at himself. Then he frowned. "Mais tu... tu ne comprends pas..." he said sadly, ears drooping.



If only he knew.

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#16
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Haha, sounds good. Doing a little PP to have Bart try to block his way so he can get mad and scare him, that ok?



Hell, why was he even trying anymore? This language barrier was not going to be overcome no matter how much either of them tried. The saddest part was that Onus was doing exactly what the man wanted him to be doing. But the wolf couldn't see that and the coyote couldn't communicate it to him. And he had no idea what the other man wanted, he only knew that he was being a pest. Usually his fuse would have burned much quicker, he did not take well to others interfering with his job. Since they spoke different languages he had cut the other guy some slack, but the rope was quickly nearing its end.



For a split second the masked male thought they might be making some ground. With the repetition and the pointing he understood that whatever that word he was speaking was meant "you", and the other one he said while pointing to himself meant "me". However it fell through. The next words the light man uttered made no sense. He heard the "you" word in there, but the others went over his head. He heaved a sigh, this was a lost cause.



He moved to walk past the wolf to get to the other side of the room, but the wolf blocked him and their shoulders collided. That was it. Onus' lips curled into a snarl and his ears folded back. "Get the fuck out of my way." He snapped his jaws close to the foreign male's face. This time his intent had not been to touch him. Next time he might not be so lucky.




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#17
'S cool! :]

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Barthélémy was trying so very hard to try and communicate with the other creature, but the coyote was obstinate. He wouldn't listen. Barthélémy could see understanding dawn as he began to explain the difference between you and me, but once he tried to form a simple sentence, he could see it had been all for naught. The coyote seemed to be growing angrier with the second, and Barthélémy was concerned he might become one of the corpses lying on the ground. He inhaled quickly. He did not want to be a dead corpse. He liked being alive, thankyouverymuch. But he could not be certain if remaining here was in his best interest. Barthélémy was beginning to grow afraid.



He let out a short yelp as he felt the male bump into him, then felt the whoosh of air as the coyote moved closer to snap his jaws. Barthélémy could hear the sound as fangs collided, could smell the coyote's breath all over him. The coyote said something -- something foul -- so Barthélémy turned and ran. He tripped over the step on his way out, but did not stop or slow down. He ran, never once looking back, not wanting to know if there was a coyote running after him.

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#18
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Well, at least something had finally gotten through the thick foreigner's skull. Onus watched solemnly as the wolf scrambled out of the lighthouse as fast as he could. The coyote took a deep breath of the foul air. Now he could finally get some work done without that fool hovering over his shoulder babbling nonsense. A blind man could have seen that what he was doing was investigating this murder. That he was trying to figure out who had done it. The wolf should have been thanking him instead of being a quivering obstacle. No matter. The nuisance was gone now.



The vigilante stayed in the room searching the bodies and the scene until the sun dipped below the horizon. He found a few splintered pieces of wood that did not belong to anything in room. None of the floorboards were cracked or missing and all of the wooden fixtures on the wall were intact. Perhaps he had broken a weapon he had been using during the slaughter. It made sense that they would have had at least one weapon. From looking around, he was fairly certain that it had been the work of one person, not more. While brutal, the killings had been fairly uniform. That usually meant they had been committed by the same hand. Maybe they had come upon the group in the dark when the others couldn't see. Or the villain had tied them up and murdered them one at a time. Unfortunately the smell of death overtook any other that might have been helpful.



Onus pushed his collar up around his neck as he walked outside of the lighthouse. He had left everything in more or less the same place. He might need to come back here to search for more clues. Maybe once he had had more time to think he would be able to piece this all together more easily. Having done all he felt he could at the time he headed back off in the direction of Halifax.




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