life on the outside ain't what it used to be

POSTED: Wed Jun 04, 2014 8:37 am

Your characters' precise species: 90% coyote, 5% wolf, 5% dog
Your desired Auxilia tier: Miscellus
Your desired Immunes rank(s), if known: I have seriously no idea yet. ;_;
Your characters' cNPC, if applicable: Nothing to go in ranks.
Your characters' animal NPCs, if applicable: Bark (stallion)


Leaders only, please!

For two weeks Micah had camped in the mountains, far from inquiring d'Artisans curious for answers. Even so, he had not expected visitors for he found it unlikely they had discovered his departure until at least the last few days, if at all. He had been a ghost in his pack, present yet never called upon, and increasingly scarce in his last months of membership for a variety of reasons. Perhaps someone had wandered into his Thornbury home to find it empty and bloodied. Perhaps they had found the star on the back wall. If they had, Micah imagined they had shrugged and moved on with little concern whatsoever.

In the end, he did not rightly care what the d'Artisans thought in his wake. They would not come inquiring—the worthless coyote had never mattered enough to them to warrant more than a few seconds' concern. Why he had sworn to himself he would remain an ally of sorts he did not know. He couldn't do anything useful. Any aid he could provide would have been useless.

In the northern mountains Micah had holed up for two weeks, licking his wounds and worried for what he had done. Would the d'Artisans banish him? Had he made his decisions too quick, swayed by blood loss and weariness? Inferni was a dangerous place, he reminded himself, the sort of clan that spawns infant-killing fathers and coyotes too daft to know the difference between rat and pup. But so too did it boast kinder folk, people like him, coyotes who had sought to learn more about him than any d'Artisan had bothered. He thought of Sparrow and Snapdragon and Marlowe, of the tutor Kali he sought to join, of Vesper scarred and torn like Skye. Was he doing the right thing?

He not only needed to learn to defend himself—the latest scrap that took his teeth and scarred his arms confirmed that—but he could no longer hide behind guise of meek artist. Inferni would harden him, for better or worse. It would do him well.

If only he could settle his stomach. Was it anxiety, or was it hunger? Between the holes in his jaw and his battered ribs Micah had not eaten well since before the fight two weeks prior, and perhaps it was that desperation that cut short nervous procrastination and brought him to the skull-tipped Infernian borders at long last.

Considerably hollowed and scarred since his last visit to a claimed land, the hungry coyote stood two legged and bony at the borders, modest as always but lacking in his characteristic shakes and quivers. Bark, similarly scratched at his rear, idled near with the man's possessions attached to his saddle. Ponytail unhinged and white-streaked curls spilling wildly over his thinned shoulders, Micah touched at the bruises stuck beneath the skin of his side and gauged sensitivity. He could not call; it would hurt too much even now. He prayed to any deity listening, Mother Earth or otherwise, that his ribs hadn't been broken all along. They damn well hurt enough to be.

Unable to howl, the man connected eyes with a raven sweeping overhead, and as though prompted the bird turned its flight for a seemingly specific direction. Micah hoped that might work.

A wreck he was, made scrawny by hunger and his arms wrapped still from shoulder to wrist in bandages. Frame hung in place like a scarecrow on his pole, a hand stroking at the mane of his steed.

How fortunate was Inferni to learn one of its most outcasted Lykoi had finally come home.


User avatar
Lin
Luperci
passion, hope
& resistance

POSTED: Wed Jun 04, 2014 9:55 am

Hello I am awake. :3 (And in chat, if you see this!)

As she always did when thoughts threatened to rip her off her foundation, Vesper meditated and patrolled.

It was simple now to clear her mind of any thought but those that acknowledged her surroundings, to wipe all those racing worries away. She walked the same path she always walked and looked and scented at the world. She could recite it in her sleep, if she was bored enough: she would hear the creek, then scent the berries growing in the bushes, where her fur would catch if she did not step just so, and she would see this tree and the skulls hanging in it if she looked up.

This made her even a better scout than she had been, for when anything was amiss, she knew almost before she actually sensed it.

Vesper, Stark croaked, flapping past her. The absence of her nickname "boy" drew her ears up, and she lowered her shields enough to let some thoughts trickle in. This alone almost consumed her with anxiety, but the raven landed on her and preened her coat. Skinny Luperci at borders. Little, thinking coyote, but fur dark. And big horse.

Thankful for his thorough description, stunted though his speech was, Vesper smiled and continued along the borders as he took off and flew the way of the lingering canine. They had not yet called, but the old raven tended to note when someone was making a beeline for Inferni versus wandering past it.

Finally she caught a whiff of scent—Lykoi, and Cercatori d'Arte, though fade. She anticipated the sight of the dark, speckled coyote named Micah, but she did not expect to see a skinny and scarred thing past the border stakes. Her brows jutted upward, and she stepped closer and frowned.

Do you need help? Vesper asked with a note of genuine concern.




User avatar
Raze
Luperci
tatter-winged phoenix
cunning linguist

POSTED: Wed Jun 04, 2014 11:27 am

Attentive to her borders just as she had been at their last meeting, Vesper arrived with certain urgency and a frown to compliment her scars. Not the gruff frown of a determined leader as he had seen last, but one genuinely concerned and curious, a sight Micah realized rare for him to witness from anyone outsider strangers who did not already know him moronic. He tried to smile, however small, but it was a nervous and weary thing struggling to survive.

"No," he said, hesitating, ducking eyes and allowing himself one last moment of doubt and decision. The smile was long gone already. He procrastinated the decision further and squeezed eyelids together. "Y-Yes. I've left my pack."

He could find all the words he desired to lay out for her, and yet did not dare. For that Micah cursed himself, evidenced only by a grimace, for he had sworn confidence and a changing life and yet struggled still in its initiation. How long would it be until he could stand with some semblance of confidence among his peers? How long would it be until this ghost found some means of tangibility?

"Vesper, I, I want to stay," he said, unspoken language reflecting nothing but anxiety and insecurity: turned ears, sagged shoulders, downcast eyes. "I want to stay, please, i-if—if you will have me."


User avatar
Lin
Luperci
passion, hope
& resistance

POSTED: Wed Jun 04, 2014 11:46 am

He was nervous—but also different than before. A scout long before she became a leader, Vesper noticed these things. She watched him struggle with a smile and amend a quick answer with a single line: he'd left his pack.

Blue eyes widened a fraction, and she wondered at this thin, dark creature and his wounds. Had Cercatori d'Arte banished him? She could not imagine what the stammering Lykoi would have done, what would have warranted chasing him out with violence. Suspicion pricked her sharp as a thorn, but his voice was earnest. And wolf packs had failed coyotes before, hadn't they?

Of course, the Centurion said, surprising herself. But he was a Lykoi, and that in itself was almost enough to open the gates for him. Her voice, even and soft, became firmer with authority. What happened, Micah?




User avatar
Raze
Luperci
tatter-winged phoenix
cunning linguist

POSTED: Wed Jun 04, 2014 12:31 pm

She knew him so little, and yet her approval was granted so quickly. As if accustomed to failure he was thrown off guard, the whites of his almond eyes broad as he fretfully searched her for sign of deception and found none. Was it because he was Lykoi? Would his horrible bloodline be his saving grace?

Remembering his anxious tendencies, the coyote argued with himself the opposite. "Thank you," he said, appearing more a flaccid scarecrow than before when held tension replaced with relief. Out of respect the man thought to shift to four legs to better speak with her, just as he had done in their last instance, but the bruises in his side deterred the effort and the former d'Artisan instead made his way cringing to the ground and folded his legs.

The Lykoi had expected he would need to explain himself. The story had been recited a dozen times en route to the clan for sake of clarity, and yet all practiced words breezed from his head the moment they were needed. He sighed, then stiffened craned his side a fraction to find a comfortable position. "I was jumped... again," said Micah, not short of shame. "I don't know who it was, but... I, I need to fix things. I've met many from here, and they're—they're kind, like you said they would be. I think the people here might be able to help me."

"One of them has been teaching me to fight," he continued, unable to meet her eyes, "really teaching me, like she might want to help. And... and there are a couple others here I want to know better." He made a point not to mention her sister, just in case.

I want to have friends again, the man stopped short of saying. He said instead, "I, I want to change. I don't think I can do it alone, like I was trying to before."


User avatar
Lin
Luperci
passion, hope
& resistance

POSTED: Wed Jun 04, 2014 1:59 pm

The speckled man thanked her and settled on the ground at her level. Vesper, very still, watched him as he worked up the courage or clarity to explain himself. She did not know, truly, what she expected him to say; she didn't know him well and offered him a home on basis of his blood and her pity, though she was sure the latter would be unwanted.

Micah described another random attack, and the coywolf scowled. She said nothing, allowing him to finish his explanation. It seemed he'd found friends or at least kindness here, which soothed her faint concerns of his earlier mistreatment near Inferni. She nodded, and allowed a smile—small, as always, but genuine enough—to soften scarred features.

You are welcome here, she said. She grew more serious a moment later, adding, I am sorry that you were attacked and that you haven't found what you were looking for in Cercatori d'Arte. Skye seemed like a strong leader who would defend her members. She shook her head. As violent as Inferni is—you'll find we protect our own. At least I can promise I won't let something happen to you. And you'll have no shortage of teachers; you'll find the help you need to change.

She extended this offer warmly enough, then jerked her head as indication that he could stand if he wanted to. Her eyes flicked briefly to his horse, a large draft-time animal, and then returned to the dark coyote. I am curious, though—what do you have to offer us? What other skills? Cercatori had been a pack of artists, then traders, and so Ves was sure she would find some place for Micah. Not all of Inferni were combattants; even her brother preferred to craft and trade weaponry.




User avatar
Raze
Luperci
tatter-winged phoenix
cunning linguist

POSTED: Wed Jun 04, 2014 2:32 pm

"It's not her fault," Micah said quickly—too quickly, because he threw up his hands as if to stop her and spent the next few seconds doubled over in pain. "It's not Skye's fault. The pack has had a lot of trouble lately, a-and she's done huge things to fix them, I swear." Hunting down Judas, for one. Booting Belial from the ranks. Promoting her daughter and Kenna as her assistants, when Micah himself had never seen the Collins take on help for as long as he had known her. Frankly, he was impressed. "She protects her own. What happened to me, it—it wasn't even near the borders. It was a random attack. I don't even know his name."

His head dipped. "It's just—even after all this time, it was as if I didn't know anyone there. They are mostly families and were tight-knit from before I came. It's a wonderful place and a haven for artists, but... but I've learned nothing hiding in a haven. I've only gotten more scars, and it's my own fault."

"I'm not here for protection," he said when she detailed the defense the clan had to offer. "I'm... I'm here to learn how to protect myself."

And Micah supposed, after all, a pile of coyotes with a bad reputation might have a thing or two to teach about survival.

He sank the moment she asked his skills, pausing momentarily as he straightened gradually to his feet. "Nothing," he said flatly, thoroughly believing it, "yet. I can paint and sing and tend to plants. I used to tutor the arts in Cercatori d'Arte, but I didn't have many students. But I have eyes and ears and all of my legs. I'll, umm, I'll do what is asked of me, whatever it is."


User avatar
Lin
Luperci
passion, hope
& resistance

POSTED: Wed Jun 04, 2014 9:25 pm

lol this is so rushed sorry

The thin Lykoi jumped quickly to the defense of his former leader, and Vesper did not press it. She knew she, too, had failed individuals in the past—Willam came to mind, and Ombre, and Helotes though her mind flinched from that imagery. If he wanted to defend the woman, that was up to him, and she was at least glad there were no hard feelings or resentment that might cause conflict—not that Inferni was overtly friendly to any wolf pack.

She nodded, then considered his explanation, and stared at him with open interest—and respect. Good, she said, and smiled again. Her teeth were yellowed with age and sharp. That's a good sentiment. It'll only encourage growth.

When he confessed to having no skills, she waited in patience, and nodded once more. Plants and paint, she echoed. We have a greenhouse you might help tend. We have a rank, Signiferi, for those who help keep our images—like your Chaos Star. She glanced to the skulls, one bone bleached yet dotted with flecks of red that was too vibrant to be blood. You can paint whatever you'd like. I'm sure you'll pull your weight like any canine with all his ears and legs.

With this, she stepped back from the borders and shook her tail behind her in one sweep. Then I'll accept you into Inferni, Micah. You can take your horse to the stables and visit our healer if you need your wounds seen. We have a mansion or caves to sleep in; I'll show you around if you'd like me to.




User avatar
Raze
Luperci
tatter-winged phoenix
cunning linguist

POSTED: Wed Jun 04, 2014 9:39 pm

Welcome to Inferni!

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Pride by Titmouse!
  • Ranks! Remember: Inferni’s ranks are based on character behavior and activity. Read over our Rank Information for hierarchy information. The Rank Advancement page details how you can go about getting promoted! o:
  • What Else? Wondering what else to do? Check the website! We have games and baubles galore!
  • Confused? If you're confused about anything regarding Inferni or being a member of the clan, please PM the pack leaders!
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Inferni 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 joining Inferni, we'd love to have you!

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Raze

POSTED: Thu Jun 05, 2014 9:22 am

Despite appearances Vesper was as benevolent and thoughtful as he found a leader should be, deeply considering ever utterance to fall unceremoniously from his tattered lips. He had always known Skye to do the same, however gruff she could but, but it was the leadership figures of Juniper Peace—if they could be called that, really—that dismissed most complaints and inquiries as too serious or too grounded. Then again, rare was it to find them without smoke between their teeth and a loopy smile on their lips. At least one Inferni leader (and perhaps the second, as he would learn sooner or later) was neither blinded by racism nor a blithering idiot, and for that he was grateful.

"I don't have the star, but I could learn to tattoo the others," he said, ignoring the irrational rage that accompanied the thought. He, who had always rejected the long-standing traditions of Lykoi, permanently drawing their symbol into the skin of his kin? Micah thought he might shudder at the thought, then remembered the peculiar way he had signed his goodbye to Cercatori d'Arte on the back of his once Thornbury home. "I, umm, I appreciate the freedom to paint. I'll try not to get in the way. Thank you."

He did not admit it, but a restriction to his spraypainting might have been worldshattering.

"Tha-thank you again, Vesper. I re-really appreciate all of this, especially on such sudden notice." Micah took a breath, smiling with humbled relief and taking the reins of his dead cousin's horse. In a vague, sentimental way, perhaps he was bringing Lowry's memory home to his fellow Lykoi as well. "I-I don't know where I'll sleep, but if you could show me the greenhouse and your healer... I-I'd like to get patched up and get started right away."

He had a purpose, and so soon. Tending to plants was not of any great significance, but it was something assigned to him, something he could be recognized for. Something with which he could flood his mind and forget how the d'Artisans could have been resenting him, right that moment, simultaneously cursing his name and thanking their respective gods that the burdensome coyote had at very long last untangled himself from their hair and scattered.

Fingers around the reins tightened into a fist. Bark snorted, jerking back his head and halting at edge of borders, but with a moment's doting the stallion followed the pair of coyotes into his new home.


User avatar
Lin
Luperci
passion, hope
& resistance

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