[M] Just like she's walking on a wire in the circus

P. Pascal | Shattered Coast

POSTED: Fri Mar 11, 2016 11:36 am

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.

OOC: backdated to Feb 24th-ish if good :3

Slipping quietly over the aging snow of late winter, Marcella Fauks adjusted her wolverine-fur cloak over her shoulders and glowered at the sun. It was blindingly bright but offered little comfort from the chill that pressed in all around her. Her toes ached. She despised this frozen land with its cold and its snow. Puffing a cloud from her lips, the dappled woman passed between the skeletal trunks of naked trees and headed toward the shore.

Ethereal Eclipse ended up being an ideal location for her Austringers, not that Zel would have expected any less. After all, she had been the one who had chosen it and if the woman didn't accept failure from others, she certainly didn't accept it from herself. She and Drachev had spent plenty of time and energy scouting the surrounding areas of the location they had chosen for their camp, obtaining crucial intelligence and helpful knowledge from loners and pack members alike. With their extensive surveillance, there was simply no reason that the location should be anything less than suitable when her team arrived.

And arrive they had, along with their captives and animals and supplies. It hadn't taken long for them to establish themselves in the area, settling in as comfortably as though they owned it. Which, she supposed with a gentle pitch of shoulders, they technically did by claiming the land.

Marcella slowed as she stepped out of Ethereal Eclipse and onto the rolling plains of the Shattered Coast, continuing east. There was a pack nearby and she was careful to keep her distance, giving it a wide berth until she arrived at the seaside, teetering on the edge of solid earth and the ocean's abyss.

[WC: 288]
Last edited by Marcella Fauks on Sun Jun 05, 2016 12:14 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Marcella Fauks

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POSTED: Wed Mar 16, 2016 5:09 pm

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Pascal weaved among the jutting stones, pebbles rolling under his broad, heavy paws. The wind gusted, ruffling his thick brown coat with cold salt scent, but the wolf only tucked himself against one of the many outcrops and waited it out. The coastline always looked as if some great sea creature had surged up and taken bites out of it; it had its mysteries, too, though Pas had mostly outgrown his childish curiosity once he'd outgrown his fear.

But it was both feelings that plagued him now, along with a dull and pressing need. He sought solitude and he sought memories of playing by the oceanside -- or sleeping by Giselle on a blanket spread on the sand while Gene played -- but when Pascal pressed onward it was with flattening ears and flaring nostrils. Nothing bad had happened to him by the sea, but its dull roars gave voice to the nightmarish creatures he'd seen and smelled in the cave.

He stopped and shook in the salt spray, sniffing again. He smelled a stranger, and the coyote-scent was enough to freeze him in place. He realized a moment later that he was exposed, and quickly turned to tuck himself into another stony bite.

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POSTED: Tue Mar 22, 2016 12:59 pm

There was wind here, along this line of earth and water. It filled Marcella's broad ears and sliced through her body like a sword. She pulled the wolverine cloak more tightly around her shoulders, shutting out the cold, but still her legs still tingled and her toes still ached. She glanced skyward and glared into the sun but the fiery celestial sphere had no cause for fear of this insignificant speck standing there on the little blue planet.

Marcella huffed indignantly and carried on across the stony coast, careful to keep her distance from the ocean. She wasn't sure what had drawn her here, to the edge of this wasteland. Curiosity, perhaps. The woman had seen many things in her travels, pursuing bounties and tracking rebels, but all of her jobs until this one had been far inland. Rivers and lakes were commonplace, but the ocean was rare. She supposed that it had a certain pull, though now that she stood looking out at it, it didn't seem all that different from staring out at the edge of a massive lake. Although the smell was certainly different. At least she could say that she'd seen it.

The woman twisted her head to continue on, her eyes falling upon a figure scurrying away from sight against a stony outcrop. She furrowed her brows. Marcella did not appreciate being spied upon. "Hello?" she called out, her voice clear and kind; sweet and warm. "I didn't mean to startle you. Won't you please come out and greet me?"

[WC: 261]
Marcella Fauks

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POSTED: Sun Apr 03, 2016 9:16 pm

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He pressed his shoulder into the jagged, salt-stained stone and flattened his ears as if that could make him smaller. The stranger did not smell of Inferni, and the glimpse of her showed a pattern of merle and tan rather than the tawny agouti of a full coyote, but his innate fear of strangers was still all the stronger in the aftermath of the war. Who knew when one might hurt him? He'd come to accept that he would never know.

The devil had come to him seeking help, after all.

The voice that called to him was like a siren's, and though he bristled with discomfort still, the wolf knew that he was discovered and peeked half his face out from the stone. His green eye passed over her quickly, and then he took a step onto the rocky sand, his tail sweeping low toward his hocks and his face a blank, malformed mask.

I'm sorry, Pascal managed, his tone dull as it always was. I -- you're close to Cour des Miracles. Not so close as to arouse suspicion in anyone who wasn't himself -- or Skoll, probably, though he'd confront this woman flirting rather than snarling -- but the excuse for his temperament was the only one he could find that didn't shame him so.

He sniffed and lowered his head, his thick nape bristling still. Who are you?

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POSTED: Mon Apr 04, 2016 10:31 pm

He seemed to her like a child caught misbehaving.

An auburn head appeared, verdant eye peering, before his body slipped out from the stony alcove. She watched him with a smile, mistaking his impassive expression and monotonous tone for defeat; submission. It excited her. Who had broken him? Was there someone to whom he already belonged?

"Miracles?" she chirped, her ears raised high above her head. Zel slid one hand from beneath the folds of her cloak and twisted a lock of inky hair between two digits. "Is that where you're from? I do apologize if I've come too close, my darling." Her voice was like warm honey.

When he bristled she thought she might be wrong after all, to think he was already broken. "My name is Marcella," She fanned her fingers against her chest and tilted her head. Shining strands of her dark mane spilled over her shoulder. "I'm not from around here." The dappled hybrid took a tentative step nearer. "And I'm afraid I've still so much to learn." Another step. Her smile deepened, her eyes smoldered. She flicked back the ends of her fallen mane. "Would you enlighten me?"

With disciplined restraint, Marcella resisted the urge to touch him but that didn't stop her imagination. He would be soft and warm against her palm, she thought, his jawline would fit comfortably between her fingers.

As though suddenly shy, the woman drew back again with a giggle. "Might I ask your name?"

[WC: 251]
Marcella Fauks

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POSTED: Wed Apr 20, 2016 1:31 pm

Ohjeez I've been dreading most of my replies/being meh at my threads but this will still be fun xD; POOR PAS
---------

Darling, she called him, and Pascal's ears flickered in something like disbelief. He blinked at her and focused on the motion of her hair -- though it was straight and flowed like ink rather than bouncing in the sunlit ringlets he'd come to care for. He nodded, guarded but uncomfortable, then stiffened when she took a step closer. She was tall, slim, strong -- but the kind, sky-blue eyes reminded him of Elijah, set in that merle face, if more focused. He did his best to hold his ground, fluff-furred and silent.

"Of course," the Margrave found himself answering. His impression of his pack was important, and if she was merely a wayward loner -- not a sniffing coyote -- she deserved to be enlightened. She might even need a home, he thought. "Where do you come from? What do you want to know?"

Her giggle twisted his ears again, and rather abruptly Pascal looked at the pebbled ground. "Pascal Sadira," he said.

Marcella, that was her name. Nice to meet you was on the tip of his tongue, but it pooled there like sour spit and he found his tongue tracing his lips.
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POSTED: Sun Apr 24, 2016 2:55 pm

OOC: Mwahahah! <333 butgod i know what you mean D: no worries here!

But for the ocean waves lapping the shore, taking her words out to sea, silence followed the cessation of her voice. Another jolt of excitement crawled from her toes and fingertips to her core, swelling her heart. She loved how rigid and impassive he became when she neared. He might not have reacted for the same reason, but it reminded her distinctly of the evenings she would spend with her boons. Him, in particular. Marcella resisted a pleasurable shudder. Soon, she told herself. That had become her mantra these past several weeks.

"You're a dear," she cooed softly, her mouth bright. "Far south of here, where the weather is much warmer than it is here." Zel glanced out across the rippling waves as though suddenly taken by a dreadful memory. "I wasn't treated very kindly where I came from. Tell me, are the Luperci here good people? Might there be areas or packs I should avoid?" She paused, glancing at the ruddy wolf again. "I've been searching for a friend but I'm afraid of running into danger." Lying came as easily to Marcella as breathing.

When his mismatched gaze fell to the pebbles beneath his feet, the dappled woman tilted her head to the side. Her inky mane spilled over her shoulder. "Oh, my darling Pascal." Saccharine words spilled from a wicked mouth. She lifted a dainty hand toward him, wanting so desperately to brush a rusty ringlet from his face. "Whatever is the matter?"

[WC: 249]
Marcella Fauks

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POSTED: Thu May 05, 2016 9:25 pm

300+ sorry i'm such a slowpants though ;_;

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She purred and called him a dear, and Pascal was uncertain whether she mocked him. He wasn't used to kindness and attention, especially not from women, and sometimes he was sharp enough to realize that smiles and winks were untrue things, meant for cruelty rather than kindness.

That there was a third motive was a concept he was too blessedly naive to consider.

South, Pascal echoed, and nodded. He looked out toward the Western Tangles, the territories that Skoll sometimes returned from bristling and hard-eyed on his "southern" patrols, but he knew she spoke of a place even farther south than that. On the mainland, he stated, though perhaps it was meant to be a question. Desert, jungle?

The tricolor woman returned her ice blue eyes to him, and Pascal reached up to claw at his hair. His posture changed a little, some small amount of confidence spurred on by her questions -- now he was not the one clueless here -- and an innate desire to help. While he did not think females helpless creatures, his storybooks and upbringing instilled morals -- chief among these kindness and chivalry -- and even the tale of his parents coming together was a similar tale.

There are many good people here, Pascal said. The Court is full of kind people. Arrogant, sometimes, he added, thinking of Skoll, but kind. He considered her next question, but his tongue faltered. It -- there are nice folk north, too, but... He looked at her and remembered his earliest suspicions. We warred with Inferni. I do not think all of them are bad, but they are a warrior people. Maybe you would be okay, he said.

Then she crooned his name again -- he was darling -- and his mismatched eyes lifted to hers before they fell on her brindled mouth. He swallowed and went stiff and uncertain again, wanting to shy away from her touch, at the same time not wanting to retreat.

Nothing is the matter. It was easier to lie than to be shamed.

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POSTED: Sat May 21, 2016 1:57 pm

OOC: ewgross sorry this is so late D: But we could wrap this up with your next post mebbeh?

She continued to weave her web of lies and desire, tugging one thread here and knotting another there. Slowly and slowly she drew them taut and secure and plentiful around them, waiting for the precise moment to spring upon him and watch him struggle. But Marcella was disciplined and she was dedicated; she could wait as long as needed to if she thought the outcome would be worth it. The woman blinked slowly, watching the auburn wolf curiously. And was he worth it? He was odd, clinical, in a way, but she couldn't say for certain why. Zel hummed a note between her lips. She would keep the game up. "Not desert," she purred, shuffling a smidgen nearer. "And not jungle."

Playing with Pascal was like toying with a fawn. It energized her.

Marcella heard him but his words meant little to her. The Court, she surmised, was another name for his home pack, and Inferni was a name she had learned of before. This was neither new nor interesting information but she thanked him all the same, smiling brightly and offering him an understanding nod.

He seemed to stiffen when she lifted her hand, his eyes falling on her lips. His reaction only made her desire burn more brightly and she allowed her hand to hover in the air between them. Zella clicked her tongue, a short and soft sound, and sighed sadly. "Would you lie to me, darling boy?" she asked, finally closing the gap between them. She touched the soft fur of his forehead with the tips of her fingers and traced the outline of his skull down to his jaw. Her cool eyes had lost their warmth, replaced with something else -- passion or seduction or eagerness. "Perhaps you're not so good a person as I thought you were, hmm Pascal?" Her tone was not accusatory. It was lascivious. Lustful. "Come and I'll give you a piece of where I'm from."

It was time to pounce.

[WC: 333]
Marcella Fauks

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POSTED: Sun Jun 05, 2016 11:40 am

00+ He will freak and run away in my next post :B

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The hum of her voice drew his ears like music until they almost trembled in his half-tamed curls, and Pascal found himself looking at her eyes -- cold blue, a color that was so strange to him. Elijah's eyes were a similar color, set in a similarly-patterned face, but they didn't have the same keen interest and fire in them.

Hers were predatory.

Some part of the lizard brain recognized this, but it was caught up with another fragment of instinct that flushed Pascal's skin and made his limbs faintly tremble. Memories jumped to Akantha, her golden curls and sweet honey eyes, but the sharp coydog in front of him was not Akantha, even as she clicked her tongue and lifted her fingertips to stroke his face.

No, said Pascal, and he didn't know what he was protesting. His eyes squeezed shut as if the pressure of her fingers on his forehead was tenfold, a hammer to his skull, and only opened to find themselves trapped in her icy gaze. He shook, almost uncontrollably. I am a good person. I'm sorry if --

He swallowed. His dark fur stood on end. There was a fire in his belly and it frightened him as much as anything he'd ever known.

He started thinking of demons and heard a voice screaming in tongues.

He could barely speak loud enough to be heard.

Ar-are you a good person...?

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