shed a little light on it
#1
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razekiel lykoi
3 years (june 6)
male
luperci
you know how to contact me. :3


How funny; how long had it been? How long had it been since he'd known a family beside him, siblings behind him? A year, two years. He was one of Inferni's spawn, one of the deadly three siblings that had were born with a reputation. He'd been one of them once, the bloodthirsty creature that Inferni was so infamous for, but many moons had passed since those days. Many hours had shifted by, many memories had been formed, many faces had been met and left behind. He'd had a thousand experiences away from his dark and deadly homeland; he'd had two years of peace and comfort away from the snarls and teeth. Just like the sun and moon that wind around the earth in a ceaseless dance, of course, those days had passed. Razekiel had grown. Grown, blossomed, loved, hated. He'd done it all.


Home was not what it used to be. He was Inferni by birth; he always knew which way Inferni was, which way his family was waiting for him, but he had never ventured back. By the time he did, it was too late; the ground was ravished, trees destroyed, life numbed and silenced. Bleeding Souls had been burnt to the ground. Such devastation, such death choked him to the core; the creature had simply fallen to his knees and cried. There was no amount of retribution worth the amount of death and embers that had once been Bleeding Souls... had once been his home. The home of a thousand animals, plants; the sun's favorite place to shine.


Incessant meandering had brought him up and around Halcyon Mountain, the only remaining sanctuary of the former Bleeding Souls land. He walked and smoked on Drifter Bay, planted a few seeds in the Waste; as his hand pushed unfertile soil over the hopeless seed, a chill ran down his spine. Such a thing was unlike anything else; Razekiel had killed, thus he knew the chills of death. What slid down his vertebrae was the unique sense he knew from nowhere else; the tall boy lifted his head to breathe in the air. He knew the smells suddenly, the eerie feelings that drifted past that could have been a thousand ghosts and ghouls. The hybrid stood tall, pulled off his rose-tinted glasses, and grinned.


The old, staked skulls at the territory's edge was a welcoming sight. The prodigal boy straightened his vest and bandana, cleared his throat, and released a joyous call into the air: I'm home! That said, he rolled something grainy and foreign in his fingers, lit it with a lighter, and sat contentedly at the ground, facing away from the territory with his back stiff against a skull-mounted stake. The sunshine was beautiful today...

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        It was the scent of smoke that originally caught his attention. They were all hard-wired to respond to even faint traces of the particles in the air--since the dawn of time, wildfires had been a part of life (or perhaps death). Those that failed to rise from deep slumber as the first tendrils of smoke tantalised their noses would quickly be suffocated and consumed by it. This particular flavour of smoke, however, was of particular interest to the tattooed hybrid. Though he'd found a handful of others willing to share his stash and watch lazy afternoons vanish into peaceful nights, he hadn't found anyone else yet who'd deliberately procured the substance on their own... save Maserati.


        Perhaps some part of him strongly hoped it would be the dark girl with swirling red accents--he missed his daughter, even more so now that Ryan was gone. His nose was held high in the air testing the wind carefully as he padded on all fours towards the coast, his heart skipping a beat in anticipation. But alas, it was not his child who would return today. A call rang up, and though he did not recognise the owner he understood the message. He diverted his course slightly and made his way to the source, shifting on instinct from his halfling form to that of the bipedal optime.


        His ears fell back once he caught sight of the man, who seemed so very at home lounging against a stick that embodied the darkest parts of Inferni's mission and code. They pricked forward again as his twin red eyes took in further detail. The splash of colour on his face could easily be mistaken for drying blood, but coupled with the golden eyes he could recognise his progenitor at once: Kaena.

        He strode over casually, though the wolfish part of his blood bade his tail to elevate slightly on instinct. As he neared, however, it was all too clear that his gaze focused on the joint and the smoke that spiralled away from it rather than the other man's eyes. Plopping down rather easily across from the male, he simply grinned. "Looks like I've found some good company," he mused. "You're one of Kaena's kids." A statement, more than a question, followed by another: "Anselm de le Poer. One of Gabe's cousins... or something."


hurray! Omg him and Anselm will get along great!!!
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#3
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AHAHA they will if Anselm has the patience for hippies. <33


It sure as hell didn't take long to get a response, but the more peachy Razekiel smoked, the less he seemed to really care if anyone wandered over in the first place. The air was rather fresh, wasn't it? There weren't many birds around, but those that were lingering made such beautiful music... Of course, the sickly-sweet scent that rose with his drug of choice stirred around the softness of the breeze, but before he could even begin to dwell on how perfectly grainy the soil was and how satisfying the sound of its crunch was, he was approached.


Razekiel brightened a subtle, wide grin at his visitor, whom he did not recognize. That was to be expected; he hadn't been home in years, not to mention his home had migrated noticeably. If he was lucky, there would be even a couple familiar faces in the old Inferni. His greeter, of course, did not strike him as a malicious, bloodthirsty animal that Inferni was supposedly known for; had the clan shifted to more peaceful terms as he himself had done? He certainly hoped so; Mother Earth could use all the love it could get. "Yeah, she's my mother, man," he grinned, shrugging his shoulders. His manner of speech was slowed and easygoing, but innately contented and earthy. The hybrid extended his arm, offering the smoking substance to his new companion. "Sounds like you know a lot of people, man. My old name's Razekiel, but I was born in a different Inferni." All smiles.



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lol, I think if he's toasted too, he'll be plenty patient enough! XD
@&#&$Anselm's teenage years were a blur because of foreign substances, some more exotic than others. Some he'd found disturbing--especially those that made the body and mind crave more while they were in short supply; he'd place stimulants or strong depressants in this category. Others held mystery and intrigue, but as time puttered along he found them less and less worthy of pursuit. His relationship with psychedelics had been a fruitful one (at least in his mind), as he'd come to accept parts of himself he'd otherwise tried unsuccessfully to bury. The male rejected all forms of religion, and it was entirely likely that his experiences with mushrooms and LSD were the closest he'd ever get to spiritual "enlightenment." Still, he felt his "vision quests" had served their purpose, so to speak, and so he strayed away from those things now, too.
@&#&$Time and time again, he found the drug that betrayed him least was this one--he was rather fond of Mary Jane; she never took away his coordination, smudged out his memories, or left him sick the next day. Good ol' Captain Morgan would leave him feeling warm and fuzzy for a few hours, but the next day he was a mess and he was practically useless while under the spell. Though he'd never embraced all aspects of the stoner culture per se, he was still always down for a good smoke.
@&#&$Thus, he gratefully accepted a couple of puffs on the stranger's joint. He pulled the smoke in deep and inhaled thoughtfully, one brow quirking in amusement over the other's lazy drawl. Passing it back in turn, he remained silent for several moments before exhaling a billowing cloud of white smoke into the air. When he spoke again, more continued to pour from his mouth--tiny wispy waterfalls that fell between pointed teeth. "That's my job," he said with a grin, figuring even if the fellow was half burnt-out he'd see the advantage of a wolfish looking hybrid amongst Inferni's ranks immediately.
@&#&$A pause as his brows furrowed--"Old name?" That one had almost slipped by him. Was there a new name? Shaking his head a bit, he shrugged dismissively--it didn't matter. If Razekiel wished to be addressed by anything else, he'd make that clear soon enough (maybe). "But ah, yeah, the one before the fire. I was never at that one, but I can't imagine it's much different," he mused. "Inferni was the only group to 'survive' the migration; all the other packs fell apart and the wolves formed new alliances. Several of those packs have already dissolved in the meanwhile," he explained, figuring Raze might be curious as to what had happened during his absence. "Gabriel's been leading ever since. Kaena came back within the past year and she's now second in command.
@&#&$"A bunch of others have come and gone.. some of your siblings, I mean," he frowned, not even sure how well the coyote had known any of them. "Corona was here maybe a year ago... Molochai blew through briefly, but I haven't seen him in a few months again. Samael's still kicking around somewhere, I think." He exhaled, searching his now-foggy mind for details. He wasn't entirely sure what had happened to that oddball, though he wasn't sure he cared. "Andre's dead," he stated, though the darkness in his tone hinted that it wasn't exactly an accident. "Other 'n that, Hybrid's been around since they all came over with the fire," he added. His little monologue was delivered somewhat sporadically and drawn out, not with the usual efficiency Anselm would deliver such information. It seemed to fit. "So, uhh, where'd you go?" he wondered; surely this fellow would have all kinds of zany stories.
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Inferni had burned with the fire, this Razekiel and his slow-moving intellect had already pieced together. The fact that the clan itself had relocated and survived against all odds was intriguing but little surprise in the end. Before Anselm could move too far ahead, of course, Razekiel found it necessary to fill him in on the question briefly raised. Perhaps the fellow hybrid would appreciate it: "Mother Earth called me Marsh Sunflower for a while," he rolled his shoulders, then leaned to accept the smoking joint once more. "I didn't last in that scene so I went back, man. Too much stuff going on to keep me there." He didn't deserve the earth-loving name any longer, either. Perhaps he was too impure for a name of the earth.


He smiled mildly at the barrage of names Anselm threw at him. Many of them were fuzzy and faceless, but a few lit vague but still-breathing memories. He'd been close to Molochai once, when the sun-loving idiot was in his childhood; Molochai had been his stand-in father for some time. What was his father's name again? Ah, it didn't matter... Razekiel couldn't remember him anyway. Kaena had apparently gone and come back, a quaint little tidbit of information that Razekiel oddly found amusing. He laughed aloud when it had been announced; his mother had always been dedicated to the clan she founded, possibly more so than she was for the countless spawn she'd brought about. The Gabriel he mentioned, however, did not spark even the slightest of memories. Ah, soon enough they would meet, of course. Samael he knew well; no one in their right mind could forget Samael. Razekiel had always wondered what his brother had been up in his absence.


After the many names stopped, Anselm moved on. Where had he been? Well, there was plenty of story for that. "I got tired of being stationary, if you know what I mean, so I took off. Mother Earth was callin' me and I answered the call, man. Burned some rubber. Admired the scenery for a while." He inhaled deeply on the toxic thing in his fingers, mused about it briefly, and released the resulting puff of smoke into the air. He admired the smoke, the sun, the clouds, and then finally returned to his story. "I lived with a bunch of choice blokes. Broke my leg and they fixed me right up, so I stuck with them. I learned all about Mother Nature and all her beauty, man. It's great, you know?" Another pause for cloudy admiration of the milieu. "We smoked a lot. The sex was great. They had wolves, though... that shit didn't fly, man. Things got bad, so I beat it." Another nonchalant puff of smoke.


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        Anselm listened with rapt attention, always more receptive to the idea of "story time" while flying high. His typically pictureless imagination ran rampant, filled with still scene shots like an old film without sound. Usually, his ideas were formulated in language and occasionally numerals. Razekiel, he mused, seemed like he just might always be on some alternate plane; the fellow was quite spacey indeed. Something about any of Kaena's kids being called "Marsh Sunflower" struck him as delightfully hilarious, and a dumb, complacent look washed over his face at the thought.


        As the younger man continued, the red-eyed wolf's face contorted into a frown--not one that was unkind or aggressive, but perhaps one that was simply confused. "Dude, I have no idea what you're talking about," he admitted, though the sound of his own voice was enough to make him laugh. "Hah!" he exclaimed, slapping him lightly on the back as the grey coyote finished his last few lines. "You seem alright with me, though. I'm sure Kaena and Gabe would be interested to hear you're back," he added. (As an aside, he'd always appreciated nature what he perceived as "well enough," so the concept of anything more than that just seemed foreign--also, since he initially left his birth pack, he'd been more than happy to settle in Inferni; the itch to move on a larger scale had apparently died with his youth.)


        More than a couple things about the coyote struck him as very peculiar--were he in any other state of mind, he'd probably delve into the "too much stuff going on" and "things got bad" parts more deeply. For now, though, he just nodded with blunted enthusiasm and somehow worked up the energy to rise to his feet. He offered Razekiel a clawed hand, hoping perhaps he'd get another hit for help with a lift so they could go find one of the leaders. "Ah, yea; we had an issue with a damn wolf ourselves less than a month ago. He thought it was a good idea to trespass and take our decorations," he said with a pout, crimson gaze lifting to the piked skulls.

        While they walked, he decided he could brief the new clan member (with 99.99% certainty) on their status with the other packs. "Couple'a packs in the area you have to look out for, too. Dahila de Mai in the west, their beta is a real shit bag. He'd probably kill any clan member near them on sight. And more recently we've got Phoenix Valley in the south stirring up dust, but that's been quiet for awhile... hopefully it's just settled on it's own." The last thing they needed was a huge conflict going into the cooler months. "Other 'n that the other packs in the southwest don't seem half bad. None of 'em are looking for trouble, at least." In this place, that counted for a lot.


-supa tired, sorry this sucks.- D: maybe edit leader needed after your next post or something, and feel free to power play them walking to the caves to find Kae or Gabe/passing the thing around/whatever! and uh, if you want the powerplay i did removed just let me know o:
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#7
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the powerplay's fine. ^^


Somewhere along the line, Razekiel began to notice that Anselm was hardly coyote-looking at all; this concept didn't seem to bother him, however, mostly because the pacifist's brain had already registered the stranger as trustworthy Inferni folk. Despite fangs and claws and a reputation to boot, the creatures of Inferni were still -- and always had been -- a tight-knit bunch, bound by familial connections. They kept their enemies close, but their enemies closer. The clan was almost ironic, however; one would assume those accepted by their standards and considered members would be trusted and approved, but Inferni attracted such shady and unnatural creatures that no one in their right mind could consider them all to be safe. Anselm, however, was on Razekiel's good side... though at this point, he really did not have a bad one. Wolves weren't even there -- wolves didn't even deserve his bad side.


Razekiel couldn't even be bothered to frown when Anselm declared his confusion openly. Instead, the grey-furred hybrid made some slow laugh and bright smile, shook his head, and shrugged. He was alive to be alive, not to be necessarily understood. That was the way the winds blew. They walked. He stiffened at the mention of wolves, however, but his smile remained. Everything about the packs seemed to breeze over his head easily; there was no evidence of comprehension in his simplistic expression whatsoever. "Mother Earth wanted these conflicts to happen," he smiled, puffing at the joint before handing it to Anselm once again, "She is organizing their removal through us, my friend. Everything's gonna fall into place someday."


He literally paused midstep, made a contentedly contemplative face, and reached around his back. "Keep the smoke, man. This makes me want to play a song. Perhaps 'the man' will like it." 'The man,' being whichever leader they happened to run into. Razekiel pulled his guitar from the sling around his back, positioned it, and began to flick something lighthearted on the strings and hum something only slightly tone-deaf alongside the strumming.


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#8
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Hooray! Also, Lin, I am ~80% sure Raze & Gabriel have met before, but Mel would remember better than I would. XD



       It was a lovely afternoon, even to the monochrome hybrid. She remained on the coast, the sun beating down on her back as she stretched out on the sand, her single eye half-lidded as her mind wandered, her thoughts coasting over nothing in particular. It was a welcome change; as of late the hybrid woman's head had been consumed by all sorts of twisted scenarios. Being with Fatin here in Inferni was wonderful, really—but there was still that pesky matter of Jacquez to deal with. Kaena simply could not bring herself to discuss the coppery dog with her russet woman. Molochai's departure seemed inevitable; though he had claimed to want to remain permanently, after catching up with him she had not seen him so much as once.



       Sighing heavily, she lifted her head from the sand, brushing away her daydreams. A sound drifted to her, and there was something about the strange call that gave the hybrid woman pause. The silver coyote heard something familiar in the voice at the door, and she blinked her single searing eye several times as she attempted to identify the stranger. She could not, though neither could the silver canine identify the tingle of recognition creeping up her spine. Inhaling the air sharply, she could smell nothing. The wind was out of her favor, blowing her scent inland from the bay. She could smell nothing but the salty, fresh scent of the water.



       Still, the coyote woman could no longer simply sit here in the sand and bask in the sun, could she? No, either way there was business to attend to, so she stood up fully, rearing to her hind legs in one slow movement. That was the last procrastination within her; when it came to the clan's business she was rather swift-moving, and this time was no different. Her two legs carried her quickly to the source of the sound, but she found she did not have to walk as far as the borders today. Two familiar faces came into view, heading toward the central point of the coyote's territory, some twenty feet behind her.



       Her single eye widened at the sight of the second face, less familiar then Anselm's but still undeniable. Razekiel? Her sable ears folded against her head and she stopped short, giving a short little shudder, that sun-yellow eye blinking rapidly as if he would dissolve again right before her eyes. Anselm's presence was all but forgotten, Kaena's complete attention focused on the lost child, one she had honestly thought she would never see again. "Razekiel," she said warmly, the tone of her voice as if he had never left at all, as if there were just hours instead of years stretching between the present and their last meeting.

Thanks to Akumu for the table!
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#9
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-feels like she's dying.- ;; stupid cold.



@#$%&It had taken a little bit, but Anselm was beginning to realise what was so "off" about Razekiel--the way he spoke of the earth suggested something godlike and divine, hinting that the planet was more than just a provider of the air they breathed, the water they drank, and the food they consumed. Indeed, he now saw many parallels between the way the coyote spoke of the earth and others spoke of imaginary, omnipotent beings. Immediately he was puzzled by it. The planet was something concrete and real--he could feel the ground beneath his feet and the cool breeze against his fur, so in that sense Raze's belief system didn't seem as abstract as others he had encountered before. He couldn't decide if this seemed more logical or if it was more disconcerting because one could be so tempted to think it logical.


@#$%&"We've all got our own paths to take," he concluded easily, though the statement was extremely vague. Anselm didn't believe anything else crafted their destiny, but if anyone else wanted to think that way he couldn't do much to stop them. He'd never even realised how strongly Gabriel subscribed to his god, but of all the vices a clan member could have he didn't think this one was major enough to warrant any further thought or fuss. Beyond that, he was now growing pleasantly distracted by the docile tunes the masked man produced from the guitar. "That is simply fantastic," he exclaimed, gesticulating toward the instrument as his tail swung behind him with the beat. He'd seen instruments littered around the cities before, but he'd never heard one actually played.


@#$%&It didn't take much longer for Kaena to find them, and he lifted a hand lazily in greeting as he exhaled another lungful of smoke from the dwindling joint. The matron addressed her son and he remained silent, flicking a bit of ash off the end of the joint before holding it out to the second-in-command. He wasn't sure if Kaena would approve or be interested at all, though after their night playing cards with the guys he suspected she might.
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"Right on, my brother," the peacelover grinned at Anselm's response, as simplistic and quick as it had been. Razekiel raised his hand and flashed the symbol for love briefly, smiling mildly over it before returning to the strumming of his guitar. Anselm seemed legitimately impressed; clearly Razekiel doted on this, though he paused his singing only when Anselm praised him and once more when a second visitor appeared before them.


He recognized her, of course. Kaena's face was hard to forget, though perhaps in his childhood Razekiel had never noticed how grueling and sad her many facial scars and weaves were. Perhaps they had collected over the years; Razekiel knew his mother to be fierce, though the woman had always been kindly and maternal (to some extent) to her own children. He'd ducked out of the way of her rage as a yearling, but now that he'd grown, the dizzied hybrid was mildly pleased to find no hints of anger in her shocked expression. He was, after all, some sort of ironic prodigal child.


"Well, look at you there," he grinned, twisting the guitar back into its former position riding his back. He took a few shameless steps forward, apparently too fried or stupid to remember the acts of respect for elders and leaders, but picked one of very few small, dying flowers from the dust in one sweeping motion and contentedly plucking it behind his mother's ear. Clearly, the son did not realize how little the waning plant fit in such a place. "You haven't aged a day, have you? All the earth's sunlight preserved your beautiful face." He clapped her on the shoulders boldly and smiled. His breath, or what could be smelled of it, reeked of marijuana and oozed slow, lofty words. His movements, of course, were a bit loopy as well. "Sorry, boss. The wind came callin' and I just had to answer the call, man."


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#11
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    He was not so different. The hybrid woman had only known her son until about his first year, but he was almost fully grown then. His coat was darker than she'd remembered, and it seemed that age had stolen the lightness from his fur. There was russet on his face as well to break up the relative monochrome of his coat, and the hybrid could not help but openly stare with her single yellow eye, taking him in. He did not look so different, but now there was a guitar on his hand and an achingly familiar scent on the wind, the tell-tale glaze of Razekiel's straw-colored eyes. The hybrid woman's gaze shifted to Anselm, surprised as if noticing him for the first time. His hand extended out to her, his fingers clutching the source of that smell.



    Though Kae hadn't tasted any since she'd been living out and on the far coast, she shook her head, denying the itch to inhale that abrasive smoke. Razekiel was here; she had not seen him in longer and he was infinitely more important to her than getting twisted. So she smiled at Anselm, liking this new discovery—she hadn't known the hybrid was one to partake, and she would have taken him up on the offer sooner if she had known. "In a minute, sure," the coyote said quietly, her attention turning back to Razekiel. The shine of her eye told all, and only the fact that Anselm was in good with the hybrid matron had kept her cordial. Anyone else she might have just growled at for trying to take even a second of her attention away from Razekiel.



    He spoke, his voice drawling and good-tempered, the softer side of Razekiel showing foremost before anything now. He had his rough patches, no doubt—they all did—but it seemed he tried to put his best foot forward. He lived up to his name, indeed. He pushed the instrument behind him, the melody that had drawn her closer to him ceasing, and came forward, bending to pick something and stick it behind her ear. When his fingers had left her own touched it lightly, feeling the tiny, withering flower stuck there. The gesture was entirely endearing, and the hybrid woman seemed to melt, the most genuine smile she could muster oozing across her scarred features, her ears half-mast. An outsider to the scene would have certainly thought she had indeed taken a pull of the joint, so elated and sickly-sweet was her smile.



    He spoke again, words that would have been a dead lie from any but her children. Only they could call her pretty like that and mean it, and the smile remained plastered to the hybrid woman's face. His hands fell to her shoulders and his touch was wonderful; until that moment the hybrid had half-expected him to disappear and leave her alone with Anselm and the faint memory of a wonderful dellusion wandering through her head. "Oh no, no apologies... I was afraid I wouldn't see you again," she murmured, pressing forward to wrap her arms around his ribs and encase him in a hug.

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theme song of this thread: We Are All On Drugs by Weezer xD


      Though he had seemingly faded into the background, Anselm was more than content to watch the scene unfolding before him. He absently wondered in small elliptical patterns around them, drifting nearer when anybody spoke and moving a small distance away, distracted, when there were no words to be heard. Eventually he realised that it was standing still that seemed so uncomfortable--meandering about was fine, but wouldn't sitting be even better? Plopping rather abruptly to his butt a couple of metres away from the two Lykois, the tattooed hybrid flashed a winning grin to nobody in particular (just in case they noticed his sudden descent, he didn't want them to think there was anything wrong) and took another merry drag.

      The way Razekiel addressed the Centurion was delightfully comical--his words and mannerisms suggested a reunion of buddies or chums more than that of a mother and son. The scarred woman took it all in stride, though, and he found his blood-red gaze drifting to the puffy cumulus clouds overhead as they embraced. Somewhere amidst the fog of his mind swam memories of Ryan; their reunion had not been as sweet or as smooth (either time). Maybe the try three would prove to be the charm... there would be a third time, right? The golden male sighed wistfully, though perhaps a decibel louder than intended for the sound of his own breath startled him somewhat, causing his ears to prick forward then fall back immediately. Similarly, his eyes widened then pulled into a frown; half a moment later, he'd returned to some loopy neutral state, eyes now more glazed over than narrowed and ears at a lazy half-prick.

      He now sat with his legs stretched out in front of him, propped upright by his arms. One palm rested flat on the ground and the other was arched slightly with the joint held loosely between two fingers. The tendrils of smoke that wove away from it died off slowly in intensity as it was forgotten, leaving it to fizzle out half-consumed so that it could be sparked again later when the time was right.
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#13
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LOL


His mother was sympathetic as he expected, welcoming the reeking boy into her arms. He was the prodigal child, the one who wasn't supposed to return; in his stead Samael had remained, or so he was told, but his sister was still unsurprisingly missing in action. Would she return? He barely thought of it, but he expected not. Ahemait was a stubborn one, the trait all three siblings originally shared but had been whittled away during his time spent with the peace-loving Juniper Peace. What would his mother think of that? She had a violent history, a great family of which she was the Matriarch; somehow, as he squeezed her body against his and smiled mildly to himself, such reservations were hardly worth the worrying.


"I'm changed, boss," he grinned as they parted, rolling his shoulders. "I'm a drifter at heart, but the wind's stopped blowing. I just need a place to crash, man. The winter's gonna be cold." He smiled sheepishly; the boy was thin, foul-smelling, and an out-of-place pacifist from a bloodthirsty family, but he possessed some sort of nonchalant, unknowing charm. Razekiel had, after all, been unconsciously popular with the ladies of Juniper way back for a reason. "I won't cause trouble, boss. Mother Earth loves the peace, man." He flashed a two-fingered peace sign. As a final convincing argument, he added, "I'll make myself useful if you don't mind extra weed in the premises, man."


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Hoorayyyy! I would consider you accepted now. Big Grin We can continue this thread here or fade to black, whatevers you guys want. ^^;



    Anselm had been pushed to the background but he did not seem to mind it too terribly; he was a favorite of Kaena's for a reason. He seemed to get her, oddly enough, and he seemed to understand that the only thoughts in her head were for Razekiel, and also that that had absolutely nothing to do with Anselm himself. It was simply natural for any mother to be completely focused on her child after a very, very long time spent apart. Razekiel sidled closer to her and she wrapped her arms around him, squeezing him tightly for a moment, her golden eye half-lidding as she inhaled his familiar scent. It was different now, far more earthy and tinged with the green spice of marijuana, but still unmistakable as one of her own.



    The pair withdrew from their embrace, and Kaena took a step away from the younger coyote, her golden eye roving over his ashen fur and taking him in all over again. He was different, no doubt about that—but Kaena could only look at his face and see the quiet and almost cold Razekiel she remembered in her head. Still, no matter who had returned to her, she had one of her own back again. "Of course, of course," she said, unable to even dream about sending Razekiel off elsewhere. What kind of mother would do that?



    The hybrid coyote listened to Raze speak, marveling at his words. Where had he learned to speak in such a way? He had been gone a long time, and no doubt seen an odder part of the world in his travels. Smiling, the hybrid woman nodded again. "You've always had a home here," she said to him. That was all there was to it—Lykoi and Inferni were practically synonymous, and at present there were two in their bloodline unwelcome on clan territory. Neither of those two would be returning anytime soon, the hybrid woman knew it.



    Kaena smiled again, the mention of the plant sparking her attention back to Anselm for the moment. He was sitting some feet off, looking rather dazed and spun away, and Kaena flashed him a wild smile, twisting up her scars and showing off her killer's teeth. "Not at all, always been a fan," she said, tossing her head at the joint Anselm's hand still clutched. It was true; Kae did like to partake in the use of illicit substances. She was not one to do it every day, as she only appreciated them once in a great while, but she loved feeling messed up, as it was the best way to quiet the roiling thoughts in her head. "You have fire to light it?" she asked either canine, rather unceremoniously plunking herself next to Anselm and patting the earth so Razekiel might sit beside her.

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A fade out works for me! Sorry about the wait ): -Fails hardcore.-
@&#&$The hybrid's ears flicked as he caught bits and pieces of their conversation; it didn't seem like Razekiel intended to stick around forever, but then who did? At least the drawling man was honest about it--it was far more treacherous, he decided, to pledge unwavering loyalty only to up and vanish a few weeks or months later. Beyond that, Inferni was the "home base" of their family. The Lykois, Holocausts, and maybe to a lesser extent the de le Poers (for their strong wolf influence) would always be welcomed home with open arms--the rest of them would understand the intrigue of exploration and the call of duty elsewhere. (Of course, there were always outliers and exceptions--traitors, mostly.) Falling in line with his acceptance of Kaena as an "aunt-in-law" of sorts, he supposed he and Razekiel stood the potential to form such an abstract bond as well--cousins-in-laws? Perhaps; he'd always been awful when it came to familial terminology.
@&#&$His own train of thought successfully derailed, he started a bit, a huge grin spreading across his face at Razekiel's "offer." As long as they didn't mind? The idea of minding was so preposterous he couldn't help but snicker a bit. His mind drifted far and wide, as he mentally took the journey that carried him from his den to Inferni's perimeter, then through the breadth of Arachnea's Revenge, and finally to the city limits. From there he went down countless streets and alleys, through several parks, and even took a short cut through the occasional gutted building. Finally he arrived at his "home away from home;" Maserati's old garage with her crop of marijuana plants taking over the back yard. He'd have to harvest those soon; Razekiel would have missed this growing season, but the prospect of having his drug of choice galore right back home seemed absolutely fabulous. It hadn't occurred to him to even use the drug here until this day, much less to introduce it to their existing vegetation, but now that they had Kaena's blessing he supposed everything was fine and dandy.
@&#&$All at once he felt the second-in-command's eyes on him, and he peered back at her inquisitively, then smiled in comprehension as she took a seat nearby. Handing the partially consumed joint back to "Marsh," he simply shrugged at the woman's question. "Not here; back in Halifax," he admitted. "Though it occurs to me I might enjoy having some supplies on hand around here now, too," he said with a grin, eyeing Raze as his tail flopped just once lazily behind him.
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