Your characters' precise species and species percentages: 53.125% Northeastern Coyote, 33.75% Plains Coyote, 3.75% Eastern Timber Wolf, 3.125% Great Plains Wolf, 3.125% Mackenzie Valley Wolf, 1.5625% Dog, 1.5625% Red Wolf
Your desired Auxilia tier: Whatever
Your desired Immunes rank(s), Whatever
[html]
I've come to burn your kingdom down
Nephilim loved and worshiped his brother and he would do anything at all that Messiah told him to do. He followed his older sibling faithfully. He didn't even spare a second thought as to whether or not he should do what was instructed of him. Messiah's words was law. And it was because of that that he had left behind the rest of their family in order to find this great clan of the fiercest warriors that he had been told to seek out. Or well, it was the two of them that were seeking it out. Their parents had spoken fondly of the place when they were around and Messiah had passed on the stories to Nephilim. It was like some sort of paradise, some sort of Heaven, that they were seeking out. It was the Promised Land that they sought out.
They had wandered hither and thither, Nephilim following after his eldest sibling with ease. Nephilim only knew the name of the place they were heading but little more than that. He trusted in his brother to take him to exactly where they needed to be. He figured that Messish knew exactly where they were going and so he felt no sort of unease in taking his sibling's direction.
The mangled looking male walked about on his fingers and toes, creeping along the ground that he was currently sniffing at. Expiation had taken place and the male with the fractured mind was set on seeking it out. He considered all bloodshed to end up being expiation, it was the only way he knew to explain it.
The male whined deep in his throat and glanced to his sibling. He knew they were close but he was having trouble pinpointing just where the scent was coming from. There wasn't a body that he could spot in the distance but he was fairly certain that was the direction that the scent of days old blood was coming from.
Nephy scuttled a few paces forward before stopping and scenting the area again. He closed his eyes as he inhaled deeply, getting his bearings and picking out which way to go. His eyes were lying to him, or so he believed. It was because of this that he kept his eyes closed as he moved ahead and just followed his nose.
After a bit more scuttling about Nephilim ended up running face first into a stake. He yelped at the contact and quickly scrabbled his way backwards as he opened his eyes wide to take in what had assaulted him. Yes, he thought he had been assaulted rather than him having just simply walked into something. The male tilted his head and stared at the piece of wood for a long moment, seeming to wait for it to spring into action once again.
When the post didn't move the mauled male crept slowly forward once again. He sniffed at the offending object and realized that this was where the scent he had been tracking was coming from. His tail wagged excitedly as he realized he had found what he was after. He didn't realize it was Inferni but rather it was the metallic scent he had been tracking since he had first scented it.
He gaze slowly rose up the post to see a blood caked skull grinning down at him. Nephilim reached up feebly and batted at the skull to try and knock it off the pillar. He didn't seem to understand the proper use of hands and fingers. He refused to grasp things but sought to knock things over as if it was only a paw he possessed. Actually most of his movements were reminiscence of if he was in his Lupus form rather than his Optime one. Once he had the skull knocked to the ground he pulled it close to himself with the side of his hand. He laid upon the ground, settled on his knees and forearms with the skull settled between his hands that were flat on the ground.
The male growled as he set about cleaning the blood off the skull. He licked and gnawed on it as any canine would do with a bone. For now his quest was complete. He had found the blood and now he was sate on sating the hunger that had spurned on the hunt.
<span class="name">Nephilim de le Poer</span>
<br/>
<span class="quote">Behold the wretched Nephilim, cast down<br/>
Upon the eighth day from infinite height, <br/>
Shorn of arched wings, of iridescent crown, <br/>
Of even (sole grace) memory of flight</span></span>
</div>
Wheee notes for self. And anyone can come to greet them whether they need someone to greet for Immunes titles or can accept (unless Sie wants to throw Myri at these guys. Otherwise, I can thread with myself. xD
Your characters' precise species and species percentages: ~87% Coyote, 10% Wolf, ~1.5% Dog, ~1.5% Red Wolf
Your desired Auxilia tier: Misceleri for now (Bellum later?)
His parents' description of the land, and the tales of a few loners -- one wolf offering atonement in word as well as blood -- had led Messiah finally to the land of warriors, the haven for coyotes. The shift in the land told him that, as they finally reached the marshy moorland beneath the foothills of the mountain; they were close now. He wagged his tail and licked his chops, posture eager as he clutched the handmade shiv given to him by the dog near Amherst. He was tired of walking on two legs, but soon -- soon all four paws would touch the promised ground of his rightful home.
A whine shuddered in Nephilim's throat, and Messiah's smile wavered as half-lidded eyes flicked to his mangy sibling. He could smell the blood, too -- and it stirred him in a way that few other things could. Still, he only scowled at the darker de le Poer and watched as the other mauevered forward on fingers and toes -- at least until he ran into a stake with a yelp.
Messiah yowled with laughter a moment, giddy at the sight of the skull as much as mocking of his brother. He jogged forward and grinned, ears pricking as he scanned the border, the stakes, the wolves dead and bleached under the sun. He ignored his brother as the fool nibbled hungrily at the skull, only standing a moment with hands on his hips as he surveyed the new land, inhaling deeply. Finally.
The willowy coyote let up a yapping call for one of the great warriors of their parents' clan, eager to seek admittance.
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Ehren wasn't the type to scout the borders for hours, but one could say it was in his blood to be vigilant. He'd been out for a pointless walk, mostly, soaking up the sun when he heard a call, near to him -- it was requesting an Infernian. His head almost snapped up, craning in the direction of the coyote howl; so unlike that of a wolf. Swiftly, he gathered himself, standing and heading briskly towards the source of the sound. The hybrid wasn't far, and it seemed he was the first one to arrive on the scene and, two. It was two. They were heavily scarred, and he quirked a brow upon seeing one gnawing on a skull clearly knocked from the borders, seeing as the stake above had nothing atop it.
Taking this as a minor offense, but not enough to be truly aggressive, he raised his tail, a show of dominance over the two loners. He had his pack by his side, he reminded himself, there was nothing to be afraid of. Those skulls are Inferni's property. Ehren said first instead of greeting them, his tone curt. Of course, he meant well, he wasn't about to try and verbally (or psychically) attack potential joiners, unless the male found it absolutely necessary. But he was also headstrong, not about to sugarcoat things for them, either. Looking from the darker pelted one to a coyote he noticed had strange eyes, he continued on.
What's your business here? Rolling his shoulders and folding his arms, he tilted his head at them, trying to soften his expression a little, as it had previously been hardened at the first impression of them. The mix had not greeted anyone at the borders beforehand, and he couldn't deny it was a bit jarring for this was to be his initial experience. He'd imagined himself to be a lot friendlier than this. Kali might have given me some of her personality, and not just her skills, he thought, the twitch of a smirk appearing for a split second at the thought.
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<td class="name">Ehren Siegrist</td>
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His brother's laughter was ignored as Nephilim had found himself a prize. It wouldn't be the first time that Messiah had laughed at him and it most certainly wasn't destined to be the last. It seemed that practically anything Nephilim did could cause his older brother to laugh at him. It was an amused laugh rather than a derisive one and so he knew that he was safe for now. His prize was to be his own rather than something stolen from him. It wasn't like the time that Messiah would steal things away from him. Of course those had been body parts with flesh still attached them, Nephilim's own flesh. The mangled male's wounds were caused by himself. It was why his limbs were wrapped in hide to prevent him from chewing on them.
Perhaps that was why he was left with the skull as the bloodied treasure was keeping him occupied and distracted him from tearing at the bindings to get to the healing flesh that was beneath them. Nephilim had already lost a toe, as well as the tip of his own tail, from his habits. Granted those had been lost during the trauma of his first shift. Nephilim had seen them as being misshapen and had freaked out and bit them off to get rid of the offending body parts. Those weren't like the other wounds that were caused when he was hungry. It was why he scuttled about and acted as if he still maintained his lupus form as his Optime form freaked him out. It was his broken mind's way of self preservation, fooling him into thinking he was something that he was not.
The male lifted his head at the sound of another's voice. He glanced down at the purloined item then up at his brother, watching for Messiah's reaction to know exactly what to do. Still he couldn't help to curl his body possessively over the found item. 'Mine.' His lips moved but the sound of the word refused to make itself known. Even though he hadn't put voice to the thought his body clearly showed it. Not only did Messiah act as a caretaker for him but also as an interpreter during these situations. Messiah always seemed to know exactly what he meant to convey when he was unable to do so for himself.
Nephilim kept a wary eye on the Infernian hybrid as he used his snout to nudge the skull along the ground, himself crawling behind it, to slip behind his elder brother. He was forcing Messiah to guard the stolen skull and himself. Nephilim peered at the unknown male through his sibling's legs for a long moment before he finally bumped his his against Messiah's leg in order to draw his brother's attention downwards. 'Not coyote.' Again sound refused to surface as he spoke. 'Not wolf.' Though the other male was both of these things in combination of another Nephilim was picking up on what the Infernian was made predominantly of, a trait inherited from his mother. No, this male was made up of something that Nephilim had no name for. He only knew of coyotes, which were holy, and wolves, which were evil, but had no experience with dogs or jackals. In his mind they simply didn't exist. There were only two kinds of canine and this clan male belonged to neither of them.
They aren't pure either, but certainly dominantly coyote as their parents wouldn't accept otherwise. Any pups that looked more wolf than coyote were culled at birth.
<span class="name">Nephilim de le Poer</span>
<br/>
<span class="quote">Behold the wretched Nephilim, cast down<br/>
Upon the eighth day from infinite height, <br/>
Shorn of arched wings, of iridescent crown, <br/>
Of even (sole grace) memory of flight</span></span>
</div>
Always the borders of a warrior's kingdom were watched -- because someone smelling of the marsh and woods of the clan approached, tail lifting in a clear display of dominance. Messiah pressed his ears down and went as far as to crouch like his brother, setting his blade down as he did so as indictation he was not threat. At the same time, narrowed eyes studied the odd features of the other, and nose drank in the mingled scent of more than simple coyote -- not what he had expected.
Messiah smiled suddenly at the brown male's statement, dismissing his worries quickly with a nervous laugh. "Ah, he's just hungry. He'll put it back when it's clean and he realizes he can't swallow the whole thing." The lie came easily, in part because it wasn't quite a lie -- Nephilim didn't want to give up the skull, but even if he didn't drop it in favor of other food once the last flecks of blood were licked clean, Messiah would make him.
Soon the scruffy, dark coyote shuffled behind him, rolling the bone along, and Messiah adjusted his posture -- standing a moment, protectively, even as he left the shiv on the ground. His ears remained flat in the presence of the Infernian, but they flicked upward briefly as his leg was nudged. He crouched back down to his sibling, listened to his concerns. Red-gold eyes flicked back to the dark-muzzled hybrid, and he flattened his ears again. "He's a dog," Messiah told Nephilim, and glanced sidelong at the other. "Inferni is a coyote clan. Maybe your ma was a coyote?"
He scratched at his jaw then blinked and swallowed, grinning nervously. "Oh -- we're here to join Inferni," Messiah said -- and grew more animated, bouncing lightly on his paws. "Our parents were great warriors of the clan before they left. Our pa is Priest de le Poer, and our grandma is Talitha, and our great-grandpa is Gabriel himself, who once led the clan." He'd heard stories of his idols several times -- and supposed that their great lineage of warriors alone would grant them entrance. "I'm Messiah, and this is Nephilim," he finished, proud but self-conscious.
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Studying the posture's of the strangers closely, still a little suspicious of the green-eyed coyote, Ehren seemed to put this aside, take a chance and lighten up upon the explanation that one of them provided. His tail swished behind him, lowering ever so slightly to a less dominant and more alert position, and he let his arms fall casually at his sides. He raised his brows as it was proved the two had gotten some information of Inferni beforehand, and appeared somewhat wary of his heritage. It was true, dog was the most dominant in his blood, but he was 'yote enough -- even if only barely. Neither of my parents were purebred. The Tribunus supplied easily, as this wasn't the first time he had been asked. But you're right. My mother was more than half coyote.
The surname he'd been hearing quite a bit of nowadays showed itself to him once again. A grin flashed on his muzzle, becoming more accepting. He liked Agrippa and Kali. Messiah and Nephilim couldn't be that bad, if they shared blood with his friends. But he was also aware that the two females were new recruits themselves, like these males could soon be -- given that they confirmed they were here to join the ranks. The short history on this 'Gabriel' seemed to float right over Ehren's head, it might have meant something to a more devout Infernian, but the hybrid only truly cared about the current members, not the ones of the past. Ah, you're in luck. Some of that family have just joined. Besides that, there haven't been many to carry that name in the clan, recently that is, of course.
At least, not that he knew of. But he knew the most important ones, the ones that showed themselves around the territory on a daily basis. He wondered briefly if Vesper (or Myrika) would show her face without being prompted by his own call for her. When he had been accepted, it had been Nathaniel's howl that brought a leader to survey the joiner. However, one thing he'd learned about Vesper so far was how vigilant she was, she could have already heard Messiah, and was just taking her time to head this way. You say you wish to join and provide for Inferni like the ones before you. He stated, his tone not quite skeptical but not quite eager. What skills would you do that with? Ehren asked, genuinely interested in where they wanted to be placed -- in the lines of war, scouting, or the unspecified.
Maybe their bloodline would lead them to Bellum, after all, that is what the current de le Poer members had chosen. But while kin was important, it rarely set destiny or fate in the hybrid's eyes. He was living proof of this, coming from a peaceful town all the way to the fires of Inferni, his sheer passion and enthusiasm bringing him to the land. Ehren had set his own destiny, but he then considered, maybe in a way Messiah and Nephilim had too. They could have lived their life as loners, as outcasts, instead they went to the clan, seeking to leave their mark on it like Gabriel had. Perhaps he could admire that, somehow.
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The tendrils of her family stretched far and wide, well beyond Inferni's borders and into neighboring packs, and even beyond that -- to the west, there were many of them. The redhead thought Ithiel, she thought of her many cousins -- even her sister, even her daughter. Maybe even her mother, somewhere far away. They scattered to the wind -- some drawn back here to Inferni, some never heard from again. Some sent children in their stead; some children came to Inferni despite their parents wishes. She knew just such a canine, one who'd not quite disobeyed her father, but hadn't heeded his words, all the same. Myrika would not be here today, if she had listened -- whether that was desirable or not, she had yet to decide.
The borders called, however, and there was little time to contemplate what might have been. Her life would be so different it was not possible to contemplate, had she not joined Inferni -- had she not met Vesper, had she not borne children. She might be bones in the earth somewhere, buried beneath what had been Thornloe once upon a time. The scents of newcomers were in her nose before long, along with one of Inferni -- Ehren. She followed the scent as she'd been drawn by the sound, and was along quickly enough to catch the tail end of what Messiah spoke -- their name, and the name of their grandfather.
The tawny-hued woman approached, offering a smile to all, but speaking nothing. She appeared interested in the response to Ehren's question, though she knew it frivolous enough -- it hardly mattered with most coyotes, let alone ones that shared old blood with the clan. It was a formality, and one that helped her assess each new addition to the clan -- but it did not determine whether they gained a new home or not. Her eyes lingered on the darker of the pair with the skull, peering curiously but without annoyance. Their skulls had been smashed before -- a little cleaning would do them no harm.
Nephilim whined as Messiah talked of putting his treasure back. He didn't want to give it up. It was his precious. He found it so he deserved to keep. Granted he didn't take into consideration that it hadn't been lost in the first place so it could never be truly found. Still, it hadn't been properly been taken care of in his opinion so that made it his as he was treating it as it was meant to be treated. This clearly wasn't the first skull that the barely adult male had licked clean. He had taken the spoils leftover from his brother's rituals. In his own way Nephilim was making the wolves part of him and therefore purifying them. It was more than just feeding a hunger, it was a holy thing.
Nephy looked up at his brother in obvious confusion. He didn't know what it meant to be a dog. 'Good or bad?' He questioned his sibling, trying to figure out the proper reaction to this sudden uncertainty. Nephilim seemed to have forgotten that it was this "dog" that barred the way from Inferni. He should have been considering how to impress said dog in order to gain entrance but instead he was looking to his brother to see if they were to attack or not. Or, in all actuality, if Messiah was going to be the one to attack or not.
Nephilim was once again glancing up to his older sibling as them having family here was mentioned. He chanced looking hopeful that their grandmother or great grandfather might have returned to these lands and that they would finally get to meet the legends that they were brought up on stories of. Or perhaps there would be one of a differing name that their mother had idolized. And so when a woman approached silently Nephilim ended up creeping forward, forgetting all about the skull. In fact he forget all about trespassing and borders. He only had hopeful eyes for the woman as he made his approach, crawling along awkwardly on fingers and toes. 'Halo?' He silently questioned the woman, lips moving but no sound being emitted. While their mother had not the blood of the great families she had been raised among them as if she was one of their own. In that sense Halo was spoken of as the grandmother from Symera's side.
He grinned as he looked back to his sibling, his mind clearly made up as to who this woman was. 'Messy. Halo.' What there was of his tail thumped against the ground happily. When looking at his brother he noted the skull on the ground. Nephilim was quick to go and retrieve it in order to bring it over to the woman to place at her feet. 'Expiation.' He grinned proudly up at the female, waiting for praise to be showered down upon him for a job well done.
Nephy is lucky of who his family is or no one would want him
<span class="name">Nephilim de le Poer</span>
<br/>
<span class="quote">Behold the wretched Nephilim, cast down<br/>
Upon the eighth day from infinite height, <br/>
Shorn of arched wings, of iridescent crown, <br/>
Of even (sole grace) memory of flight</span></span>
</div>
Hmm, Messiah voiced as the dark-muzzled dog admitted his heritage. His mind did not easily wrap around halves and fell more easily into black-and-white—though not to the extent of his brother, who looked to him (as always) for his judgment. Good if the coyotes let 'im in, I think, he replied. It was clear he did not think of Ehren as coyote even if he boasted a fraction of the holy blood. Somewhat antsy at the thought, he rubbed his skinny arms and peered at the dog—but when Ehren smiled, the expression was returned with a broad and animated grin of his own.
Hear that, Nephy? Family! the young coyote exclaimed, and beamed again at Ehren. He only slightly calmed as the other questioned his skills, and one foot went to nudge the shiv in the earth. I can kill our enemies, he said, happily.
Then another caught his eye, and apparently his brother's—a tawny coyote with rich red hair. Messiah stared at her, his wildly flailing tail stilling and dropping. He did not answer his brother's mouthed words, only stared—and quickly raised an arm to rub at the back of his neck, gaze dropping to the earth and tail tucking slightly.
Hi, Messiah greeted, his animated energy manifesting itself now into nerves. Oh— he interjected, and glanced at the slinking dark thing that was his brother. And where I go, Nephilim goes, he added, just remembering the interrogation about his skills. Nephilim was young and boasted little—he was an idiot, really, as far as the red coyote was concerned—but this was his home as much as it was Messiah's.
And damned if Messiah would let Nephy part from him.
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<a target="_blank" href="viewtopic.php?f=10&t=453">IF Maintenance</a>
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<strong class="if">Inferni</strong> is a coyote-only clan first established in 2002. With a flexible hierarchy and tons of co-ranks, Inferni's ranking system and coyote culture are unique amongst 'Souls wolf packs. If you're interested in <b><a target="_blank" href="http://inferni.soulsrpg.com/policies/joining">joining Inferni</a></b>, we'd love to have you!
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The smaller, darker coyote of the pair moved strangely -- though in Optime form, he moved on hands and knees. This was possible for their kind in two-legged form -- it was necessary, in some cases, but he did not rise at all as he came on. When he stopped to speak, no sound came from his mouth, but his muzzle moved, all the same. Myri did not read lips and did not even know such a thing possible -- she glanced toward the taller of the two, curious but not questioning outright, for the darker of the coyotes had turned around and was now mouthing at him, too.
She understood, too, and nodded. Where you go, Nephilim goes. Inferni did not have any enemies at present -- but there was always that lurking possibility, too. The redhead was not a war general, but she understood soldiers had a use, too. Inferni had more old women and seamstresses than it did soldiers. Welcome to Inferni, she said. If there are any enemies needing killing, I'll let you know, she added, tacking a smile onto the statement. It worked with most -- as many of questionable stability as they allowed within Inferni, the clan had not yet exploded into flames. Singe, with his pyre, seemed more worthy of close watching than this pair. Myrika Tears, the Aquila.
Does he speak? the redhead asked, nodding at the crawling two-legged coyote.
Nephy nodded his head when Messiah declared this male to be good. He trusted his brother's judgment in these matters. If his brother said someone was okay then they were okay by Nephilim as well. He just went by whatever he was told by his brother. It was the only way that he knew how to function. His brother had always been the driving force in his life. It was his eldest brother rather than his parents that had taught him most of his life lessons. It was because of this that he always looked to his sibling for direction.
The mangy male whined excitedly and his rump wiggled. It was clear that he was taking his cue from Messiah. If his brother was excited over this prospect then so was he. Why should he not be? To the cautious observer it would be obvious that Nephilim took all of his cues from his brother.
Or at least most of them as it had been his choice to end up approaching the female and not a prompting of his sibling. But his excitement at whom he assumed this woman was ended up quickly quelled as she spoke her name. He hung his head low, chancing a glance at his brother and expecting to see mocking there when it was announced that this female wasn't Halo after all. No wonder he followed his brother's direction. This is what happened when he did not.
'Where Halo?' He mouthed the words to the woman first before repeating them once again for his brother's benefit, looking in Messiah's direction. 'Where Halo?' He frowned when it was asked if he spoke. The question wasn't directed at him but to Messiah instead. 'I am speaking!' His voice sounded shrill in his own head even though a sound still wasn't produced from between his lips. 'Tell her I am speaking!' He demanded of his brother.
<span class="name">Nephilim de le Poer</span>
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<span class="quote">Behold the wretched Nephilim, cast down<br/>
Upon the eighth day from infinite height, <br/>
Shorn of arched wings, of iridescent crown, <br/>
Of even (sole grace) memory of flight</span></span>
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Finishing this off. I don't think anyone else should really need to reply again, but I'll wait for someone else to ask to archive it. ^^
The redheaded woman welcomed them, and Messiah grinned even as his ears fell back shyly. Thank you, ma'am, he said, all courtesy and gratitude—genuinely, too. She would change his life for the better, he knew it. And okay, Aquila. I want to keep the world safe for our kind and learn from your warriors.
Even at being welcomed, his nerves did not fully fade, and when Nephilim turned back toward him and began to mouth wildly, Messiah had to bite his tongue to keep from insulting and berating him. Not now, he said, a bit of an edge to his words. He can talk, he added to Myrika. He doesn't make noise but his mouth moves. I can understand him. His tail was nearly tucked, a frown twisting his features. I'll tell you what he needs and I'll take care of him.The idiot.Come on, Nephy—we're Infernians now, we've got to go find a place to settle down and then you can ask your questions. He gestured to his brother to follow him as he crept into the coyote territory with one last shy smile aimed at his pretty new leader.
See 
See