The Path of Daggers

POSTED: Tue Mar 25, 2014 1:25 pm

333 for linboo <:3

Kali's trip to Halifax had been fortuitously wealthy in her opinion, though from what she had heard about the city she should've expected to come out with a little something of use. As it were, she had emerged with not one, but two new weapons: a tomahawk and pronged brass knuckles; neither of which she had handled in training before, but she ogled at and cradled them now as if she had just birthed two precious children.

It was early afternoon in the Sugarwoods, a cloudy sun casting very diluted light on the refreshingly cool lands below. Hades walked along slowly, picking a path of his own since his rider was otherwise preoccupied with polishing her new weaponry. Rook followed, his own pace inconsistent as he would stop every now and again to sniff, dig, or pee-mark a tree. Kali didn't pay attention to either of her companions, as lovingly involved as she were in removing ancient grime from the shaft and blade of her throwing axe.

It gleamed once as the clouds shifted past the sun, and the Luperci was abruptly encouraged to test it out. She hopped down from her stallion, inattentively looping his reins on a low-hanging branch before eagerly choosing her target—a sap-leaking tree forty yards away.

Appropriating her stance, Kali threw the tomahawk with severe force and it flipped before embedding itself with a sharp SNAP into the brittle, winter-recovering bark of the tree next to the one she'd actually been aiming for. Despite missing her target, when she jogged up to the tree, she was satisfied with the angle and how deeply it had lodged itself.

Smirking, she needed quite a bit of arm strength to rend it free again, and she returned to her original position several times as she tested the weapon over and over again. So giddy was she with the weapon that she hardly even paid attention to her surroundings. She didn't even notice Rook who seemed curiously intent on one direction...


User avatar
Cheshire
Luperci I know the devil wears a leopard coat Ghost of the Saber Tooth Tiger Tru Blood
A Storm Exists
Superbia
Eyes like the Basilisk
Vicious

POSTED: Wed Mar 26, 2014 4:39 pm

In his younger years Micah thought himself useless among his sisters, each as headstrong and confident and beautiful as the last. He was the mangy one, equally creative yet without nature orient, with a pelt matching their shadow in which he stood. They were their father's favorites, Razekiel's girls, and Micah was the black sheep who resented his sire, who thought himself above the smoke and sex of Juniper Peace when at heart he was the weakest, the most insecure of them all. Storm Lily confirmed it time and time again in her wisp and intangibility, the voice in his ears that refused him a measure of growth.

But with Mistral at his side, the ghost had vanished. Months had passed since the runt's spirit was seen or heard from. Perhaps she knew it pointless to whisper accusations in his ears with that child nearby, thinking him beyond her insults while he had greater significance in the life of the rescued orphan. He had been hero to her, at least for a time. He had found confidence, found solace in himself. He had done something right.

But it spiraled out of control as quickly as it started. Belial. Lowry's death. The accusatory stares of his packmates, his friends. The murderer's brother in Halifax. Mistral's sudden departure.

The horrible, plaguing loneliness she left behind.

He strayed from home again and again. The ghost had returned, appearing in spurts, vengeful for the distraction of Mistral. Micah would hear nothing of it, refusing to believe himself crazy any longer; if Lowry appeared as no ghost, than neither should Storm Lily. She hated every second, and yet vanished again the moment Micah disregarded her blabberings to follow an echoing snap in the Sugarwoods. Anything to get his mind off her, off Mistral, off Lowry and off everything.

The d'Artisan found first a warrior with weapon in hand, and second a haughty mixture of dog glowering at his approach. Shaken but swallowing rising anxiety, the coyote touched at a tree and stood in part behind it, wary of the tomahawk darting his way.

He managed no words, not under pressure of the canine's stare, but a sound near an introductory "Umm," slipped out.


User avatar
Lin
Luperci
passion, hope
& resistance

POSTED: Sat Mar 29, 2014 1:47 am

The handle of the axe whizzed again from her open palm, burying its blade for the twenty-seventh time and for the eleventh time in her actually intended target. She was smiling when the dark figure, a few trees to her target's left, made his presence known and the shape of the rawboned shadow came into focus. Her grin lessened but did not subside completely, turning her surprise into some sort of smug indifference as she strolled forward to collect her tomahawk again.

Kali seemed at ease, if only because she knew it would take a fool to want to plague her if they had been watching her long. Her smile had faded completely by the time she set a strong, slender hand on the weapon's handle and then wrenched it gracelessly free. Can I help ya, stranger? she asked the tapered Luperci, frankly and openly studying the features of his mixed heritage with her confident lantern gaze.

She stood with the axe cocked on her shoulder, half-ready to be lobbed into his face, and her hip popped to the side as her tall ears pressed attentively in the older male's direction.


User avatar
Cheshire
Luperci I know the devil wears a leopard coat Ghost of the Saber Tooth Tiger Tru Blood
A Storm Exists
Superbia
Eyes like the Basilisk
Vicious

POSTED: Thu Apr 03, 2014 1:26 pm

She was the intimidating sort and he of humility and cowardice. He focused not on her smile but on the shine of her fangs behind, the way they caught the light in single glimpse in such fashion of the weapon in her grasp. She did not speak until tearing tomahawk free of the bark, a splintering noise not unlike what he imagined how his own bones might sound while she shattered them for his careless interruption. These parts had been dangerous lately. What was he thinking?

Of course he knew she was no murderer, at least not the one sought with his d'Artisan brethren. She made her analysis known, and beneath her auburn eyes Micah felt not exposed but without points of interest. He shouldered no weapons, wore no trinkets, carried no muscle. In any company the Lykoi appeared average; in hers, he was insufferably simple.

Think fast, he told himself, almond sights focused on the teetering axe atop her shoulder. "Just... Just admiring your, umm, throwing arm," he said, a partial truth. Fearing it might have been more accurate.

Raising his hands, the granite man backed gingerly from the tree and attempted some semblance of a smile. "Y-You're talented. I-I did not mean to disturb. I was only passing through."

A glance over his shoulder signaled his nervous intention to move on.


User avatar
Lin
Luperci
passion, hope
& resistance

POSTED: Mon Apr 07, 2014 6:02 pm

Kali's expression did not change in the wake of his nervous speech; she didn't suddenly become open and mindful of his sensitivity, nor did her expression harden in immediate distaste for his verbal weakness. She appeared unaffected entirely, her eyes flitting about him in an unabashed manner, taking in every uninteresting part of him because it had become habit to do so. Orange eyes trailed up the curves of his long, cinched hair, and then looked up into his dark face and warm, nervous eyes.

If you're gonna be ah admirer, I say stay, slim. Watch a while longah. She blinked at him slowly, smirked in bold, casual toothlessness and then turned away from him, striding back to her original position. She couldn't care less whether he remained or not, but Rook seemed attentive to the stranger's presence regardless.

She concentrated and poised to throw her axe in a beautiful flurry of spins—more spectacular because she wanted to show off in case he was still there—and then watched in satisfaction as it buried curve-deep into her desired tree rather than the one beside it, behind it, or hitting her mark upside down or backwards.


User avatar
Cheshire
Luperci I know the devil wears a leopard coat Ghost of the Saber Tooth Tiger Tru Blood
A Storm Exists
Superbia
Eyes like the Basilisk
Vicious

POSTED: Tue Apr 15, 2014 9:04 am

She reminded him of the winds, a fleeting thought that had the Lykoi cursing his earthchild upbringing. But her mood swept about even yet unstable, powerful and bolstering at times when she swung that axe yet unmoved and indifferent when faced with interruption. Alerted to his presence the two-toned woman regarded him with a glance reading like the drag of fingertips, soaking in his every inch of granite fur without shift in composure like the embrace of a breeze redirecting itself around him.

She was dangerous, most certainly, but not in a fashion his instincts should choose to flee. The woman extended a casual invitation to remain and set back to work. Wary under the continued sights of her bulky companion, Micah lingered under pressure not to upset her, and set his hands in the pockets of his sweater to cease the nervous fidgets there.

She moved with not only a certain power in her body that he lacked, but a confidence and charisma that allowed for intimidating presentation. The Lykoi would not gape but watch for a time in silent analysis and muted admiration. The axe buried in a place peculiar yet purposeful, and Micah shook his head.

"Where did you learn to do that?" he asked at long last, modest. "Umm, if you don't mind me asking, I mean. Are you from a family of warriors?"


User avatar
Lin
Luperci
passion, hope
& resistance

POSTED: Fri Apr 18, 2014 11:52 am

*picks up micah and puts him lovingly inside of kali's pocket forever*

She moved to retrieve her tomahawk, a glimpse of teal hovering in her peripheral. Do what? she asked, looking again towards the demure peppered male, inwardly pleased that he had not left after all. She put her hand on the embedded weapon and began to wrench it free. Throw'ah axe? It jerked free and she let the weapon hang limply in her hand as she faced her polite admirer. She noticed his hands were in his pockets, which bothered her, but she brushed her distrust away, too confident in her own prowess to be worried much about his scrawny limbs.

Y'could say that, Kali shrugged, peering up at him steadily as she wondered if he were some sort of extremely unassuming spy. He wouldn't be the first of his kind... Military, she offered curtly, trying not to think of Scintilla and instead concentrating on his curiosity—a trait in social individuals that she wasn't fond of. But this m'first time handlin' one'ah these. She spun the top-heavy cleaver a couple times in her hand, gazing at it fondly.

I'm teachin' m'self—if ya must know. Not that there seemed to be anything left for her to learn. Her aim and dexterity was probably attributed to her many months work with a whip and self-training, rather than whatever she'd learned on Scintilla—not that this would make much of a difference to her visitor. She was looking down at her tomahawk, still rotating it slowly in her palm. Are you a spy? she asked abruptly, casual and yet somehow demanding, without yet looking back up at him.


User avatar
Cheshire
Luperci I know the devil wears a leopard coat Ghost of the Saber Tooth Tiger Tru Blood
A Storm Exists
Superbia
Eyes like the Basilisk
Vicious

POSTED: Sat Apr 19, 2014 11:18 am

With humility he nodded his clarification of the axe, though the male was unsure what else she could have mistaken him for referring to. She spoke of something called military—a word he was unfamiliar with, and earned a slight knit in his brows—before exposing herself as a novice with the axe. Micah thought to voice his blatant disbelief in the statement after observing evidence of decent skill, but the male pulled his lips taut and nodded instead as if he had any semblance of what she was talking about.

"I'm, umm, impressed," he said and, realizing that she might misinterpret the stutter, added, "really, I am. I-I can't do anything like that. I've tried to teach myself but, well, I haven't gotten any better." Was it smart to be revealing that to a woman so rough around the edges and clutching a weapon?

Startled from her inquiry, the Lykoi frowned heavily and stared like a hare catching sound of a predator. "What? No!" he gasped in a panic, jumping to his feet and holding palms out at his chest in a pitiful, nonthreatening show. "I-I-I was just passing through the area, and—and I heard someone here, th-that's all! Things have been hell at home and I didn't want to go back a-and—"

Fisting his hands, the Lykoi ceased at once to collect himself. Taking a sharp breath, he continued. "N-No, I'm not a spy."

Then, withering, he added, "I'm not much of an anything."


User avatar
Lin
Luperci
passion, hope
& resistance

POSTED: Fri May 09, 2014 11:16 pm

Her axe stopped spinning, and she finally looked up at him, coolly moving closer in a way that wouldn't immediately be apparent.

He blanched, upset by her forwardness and startled into babbling by her accusatory query. And Kali believed him, for either Micah was a very talented actor or he really was as feeble as he seemed. Kali cocked her head slightly, narrowing her vermillion eyes as she scrutinized him further, searching for any sign of deceit; she searched for any reason not to trust him, and her gaze remained for a hard, long moment.

And then she simply relaxed. The tense set of her shoulders declined, and she licked her chops thoughtfully when her vision dropped momentarily to his feet before flitting back up to his face. "Ya aren't much of anythin'," she agreed in a quiet voice, meeting his shy, brown eyes with unabashed directness. "Y'know you can always change that though, right?"

She was standing very near to him now. Her brow was quirked, and her arms had crossed just beneath her breasts. The tomahawk hung limply against her taut belly and she looked up at him in placid fullness. "What's yer name, slim?"


User avatar
Cheshire
Luperci I know the devil wears a leopard coat Ghost of the Saber Tooth Tiger Tru Blood
A Storm Exists
Superbia
Eyes like the Basilisk
Vicious

POSTED: Wed May 14, 2014 10:39 am

She agreed with him—not that he expected her to do otherwise. Though, oddly enough, it was nice to hear his reservations were not completely unfounded and Micah so tired of ingenuine disagreement and insistings that he was underestimating himself or having a bad day. No. Micah was a damned and useless fool and he would not be lied to about it.

When she met his eyes the almond hues rolled away, finding the soil and his toes and anything in between that was not her stare. He had been wrong to approach her—what was he thinking? Clearly she was the dangerous sort, and far more confident and capable than he in more ways than one. What nerve had he to intrude on her business when he would have been of no use to it?

"I've tried," he said, tone distant as if long since surrendered and given up on the cause. "A few people tried to teach me self-defense, but I just don't have the natural talent. I'm, I'm good with my hands, but not with a weapon."

"Mi-Micah," he answered her final query, startled by how close he realized she had come. "Micah Lykoi, fruh-from Cercatori d'Arte."


User avatar
Lin
Luperci
passion, hope
& resistance

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