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Sat Jan 12, 2019 5:12 pm
|WARNING: This thread contains material exceeding the general board rating of PG-13. It may contain very strong language, drug usage, graphic violence, or graphic sexual content. Reader discretion is advised.|
In the misty morning air he stood, the pale cream of his underbelly cutting through the gloom. The moors were always eerie but under the shadow of the thick aerosol, the effect was magnified. What slight breeze existed ruffled the boy's curly coat and lifted the tips of his dark tipped low lying ears. Jade eyes narrowed at the figure approaching the distance, the expression he wore was wary and his pale fingers and dark knuckles paused upon the knife he held. The water trickled silently past the deft blade, washing the crimson stain from its uneven surface. Steadily the figure drew near enough to be visible through the white mist and jade eyes softened in relief once the ruby eyes of his Uncle broke through. With a sigh, he continued his work, it didn't take long for the blade to lose all trace of its crime and soon enough it was left unceremoniously on the bank of the creek while Baptiste attempted to scrub similar stains from his digits.
'Simone.' The drop-eared dog sounded out, his eyes trained on the task at hand as opposed to the elder male. He didn't speak further, silence said enough.
Sat Jan 12, 2019 6:00 pm
The Son of Cerberus had heeded the call of his nephew, for it had been time for their hunt. They did not live in the same pack, but they had a routine that had been set up once they had met some time ago. They came to the other's aid at this time, to curb the urges that they both had been born with. They did not judge one another, they shared in their unpleasant urges, their unpleasant habits. Simone had been a bit more deeply rooted, for he had heard once upon a time that his own father had these same urges, and would kill for fun rather than for meat, for flesh. Sparta had been young when he had gained his strength and apathy, which had made Till tell him about whom he thought his real father had been. Sparta had been warned to never tell another of his true parentage, and he never did, for he knew the consequences would be harsher than anything else. He would not be as lucky as Krios was when he was exalted for his Bastard-blood. Sparta was the son of a murderer, a traitor. Sparta would not be exalted, but instead it was likely he would be culled for his blood, for his urges.
He kept his secrets and met with this Beast of Blood once a month. This would help both of them kill without being found. This would help both of them lead normal lives in their respective packs without being found out by the others. This is why they had come to one another every month.
His pale visage was hidden in the dense fog for some time, as winter's cold settled within them. He came along to their meeting point, not knowing that he was to be late until his bright eyes of rubies had caught the sight of the dog-boy. They were close in age, as far as the elder could tell, but their families blood had caused confusion amongst them to the point where they had settled on being Uncle and Nephew. Once his ruby eyes clashed with the jade ones he knew that the other knew that he was there. This was good, for the other seemed to sometimes be jumpy, and Sparta had been trained extensively to keep his footsteps light. It wasn't a surprise when the ghostly male would scare others with his sudden presence.
The accented tongue summoned him by name, and the tall, doggish ears of the male had folded back lightly on his head as he approached in his lower form. He had long been cleaned of the blood of their last kill, as had his scent changed once more from the iron of blood to the stench of long dead flowers and incense.
"Baptiste. Are you ready to hunt once more?" he asked his younger companion, wondering if they were going to go for round two, or if he was cleaning up for good.
Sat Jan 12, 2019 7:55 pm
Mon Jan 21, 2019 10:02 pm
They never talked about their future goals, they never talked about who they were seeing, who they liked, what their packs were like. The only thing that they talked about was their next kill. Even when they planned on meeting up, it was on the subject of their next murder and when it would take place. Spartacus had a nasty imagination and liked to also talk about what he liked to think was entertaining, like thinking about murdering whole families, tracking down every single member and killing them in cold blood, as if they never even existed. He never really thought about what would happen if he was caught in the act, because he didn't think he would ever get caught. He had a common enough appearance to throw off others with ease. The other, his partner, his "friend", was unique enough, but it would be hard to find the other if he was locked away behind the gates of the Vale. The same could be said about Spartacus. It would be hard for someone to find him in the depths of the Thistle Kingdom - Salsola.
The Son of Cerberus had the affliction worst than his companion, he thought, for the boy seemed to often be satisfied with making one kill, while Spartacus wanted to kill more and more. While it would, maybe, get them caught - becoming unhinged as such - he didn't think that someone would be able to track them as easily if they always switched their M.O. and they also moved in a strange pattern every time. Simone also did not think that there would be others who actively cared much of what the two "loners" did, not unless the wolves they were picking off were part of a pack, and even then, the two happened to be very careful about being near packlands and would often hunt away from any known packs in case of such. They also avoided those who looked like they had more riches than the common-folk, because that meant that they had more riches, more connections, more luperci who would miss them. They hunted hard, but they hunted smart.
A dominant tail flagged over his back as his hulking form danced lightly on heavy paws. He came closer to the other, but he did not shift up, Baptiste knew the male liked to hunt in his lower forms. It made him feel more Alive. "You won't get dirty this time. I need you to distract, not kill." he told the other as a wide grin that matched his true father's own had twisted on his own. "Since when do you care about just getting cleaned up? You getting soft on me, boy?" his words came out with a sarcastic growl as he rounded the boy with his tail still flagged. It was a challenge from Spartacus to the male, which was something that was often, and lessons were never learned. Sometimes, the boy picked fights just because he could, and since he had spent so much time as a child sick, his strength as an adult was always tested.
Tue Jan 22, 2019 7:00 am
Sun Jan 27, 2019 5:21 pm
At the accusation of his over-enthusiasm being his downfall, the secui male shrugged his large rolling shoulders. He still had a wide smile on his maw as he looked at the other. "We will cross that bridge when we come to it." he told the other, not really thinking much about his future and what would happen if he was caught vs how to make sure he wasn't caught. The other made a good partner because he was so careful, so meticulous with his killings, while Spartacus made a good partner because of his brutality and his easy disposal of evidence. It also was nice that Baptiste was still young and he looked like he would be forever young, and this was an easy way to make females worry about where he belonged and whom he was lost from. This was the feature he mostly used the youth for, because he did not have the short body, rather, in all of his forms he was lanky and tall. He looked much older than he really was and his bright crimson eyes did not garner trust in strangers all that well.
The male did not like the idea of being used as a distraction, and Spartacus let out an audible and dramatic sigh, along with a roll of his crimson eyes. The other didn't seem like they wanted to go hunting again, and it was painfully obvious that Spartacus was not in the mood to fight with the child to the point where he had no choice but to come along. Spartacus looked at him with a serious look afterward, and he wagged his tail above his back in a playful manner once more. "Okaaay, but what if we kept it alive for a bit longer? Had a bit more fun?" he asked the other with a cock of his brow. He knew of his "fathers" killing den that was so out of the way and so hidden that no one would be able to find them, much less find their victim.
"I never told you, but my father had a torture den, and it is not too far from here. It's hard to get to, but it's also hidden away so perfectly that we could easily start taking our victims there." he told the other as he let his smile widen to a wicked grin and his bright crimson eyes sparkled with an intense need within them. He wanted the other male to agree, or go home. He knew the other wasn't ready to go home yet, so he didn't know what the other male's stigma was. "Come onnnn, I know you want to, Bapiste, you cannot tell me that you don't." he spoke to the other as he started to absently paw at the ground.