[M] Hiding it all behind the smiles

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.

(342) Set in the Great Village, for Vesper Vicira, I meant. I forgot what date you wanted to have this on… remind me? Jan 15th

The red star brought floods to Inferni that remained even after the aftermath subsided. He still came across fallen trees and splintered wood in the forest from time to time. He was surprised the trees weren’t chopped up and used by then by the Luperci in the surrounding packs. That would have been the smart option. Sometimes he had thought to go out there with his axe and a horse cart and start chopping away. It would have been the sane thing to do when he was frustrated, rather than going out there to look for someone to hunt.

Despite the Great Village's proximity to the Bay of Fundy, it did not see that much water damage from the red star. While the rivers, lakes, and bays around the country swelled to accommodate the huge mass now sitting in the bottom of the ocean somewhere, the water had not come up far enough to do any real damage to Inferni’s village. It had been the earthquakes and tremors that had given Inferni the most trouble. If anything, the Great Village’s homes sunk a little further into the earth.

Izual had been standing at the edge of a cluster of trees, eyeing a smoke cloud emanating from one of the sunken houses. From where he was, he could see a gray body, and he could definitely identify the smell. Marijuana. He eyed the Coyote, assuming she thought she was well-hidden and unnoticed. However, the smell of weed was a hint on the wind for a great distance from here. If anyone else wished to follow the scent, it would surely lead them here.

She looked like she was hiding, but she wasn’t doing that great of a job. Izual could have given her some pointers.

”What are you doing back here and why aren’t you sharing?” The Massacre man called out to her, walking towards what he assumed was her hiding place. He eyed the edges of the house’s rooftop with wonder, but right now, he was more interested in herbs than architecture.

328 words. Perhaps the 15th?

Muscles relaxed and body sank back against the mossy side of the house, breath steady as glazed eyes fluttered shut against the sharp sunlight. She'd managed to forget how much she missed this.

No, that was a lie. It was a bald-faced lie. Her body had never let her forget, even after she'd revoked the drugs, the alcohol, after making such a fool of herself at the gathering--after she realized that they were in danger.

But it was so hard. She couldn't relax, couldn't breathe some days. Maddox was dead, and others would die too if the vitriol of their enemies was any indication. Vesper's paranoia was justified for once, and it made Vicira feel afraid. These weren't arrogant, disillusioned Courtiers they fought now. It was war, war declared by unknown enemies, and she just needed an hour to forget and suppress this terrible anxiety thundering in her chest.

Vicira coughed badly, doubled over, then smoothed dark hair and took another drag off the badly-rolled joint.

She was ashamed of her dependency, espeecially after weeks of sobriety, but even she would later admit that she'd not chosen the best hiding place. At least most of her close neighbors wouldn't care; Kennedy might have been concerned, but he didn't know her well enough to raise questions, and Kallistos would have joined her had he not been preoccupied.

She thought she would be left well enough alone, until a deep voice called out, and she jumped up and struck her head on the overhanging roof and uttered an Oedipal curse.

Peering around the corner of the sunken building, Vicira glowered at the rusted coyote. In peacetime, she might have invited him without hesitation and seen what kind of game she could have made with the deranged man, but she was in no mood today.

"I don't think it's any of your business, Bellum," she said smartly.

(000) of Feb or Jan? I forget >.<

He missed the part where the woman jumped and banged her head, but he did hear the bump and the whispered curse. Despite Vicira’s tone not sounding so inviting, Izual closed the distance between them anyway, and sat – or rather, laid - beside her behind the house. He laid on his side, though, because he was too tall to properly sit and not have to bend inward awkwardly. Instead, he lay in the frozen grass, looking as comfortable as ever, paying more attention to the joint in her hand than the actual scowl on her face.

”Nonsense,” he said. ”Everything’s my business.” And while a grin stretched on his face, she ignored him. And then the grin faded slightly. ”What’s wrong?” He could sense it in the air between them. It hung heavily like a ceiling about to cave in, sagging and swollen with old water. And even though he wasn’t versed in counseling, he asked anyway because the feeling between them felt wrong. Usually, she was wary of him, but today she just didn’t give a shit. She was loathed him being there, and he wouldn’t go until he learned why.

00+ Apologies for the wait. January, so it'll be in the middle of the conflict.

See galleries for credit.

Ignoring her warning, the rust-streaked coyote came around the side of the house and settled easily in the grass beside her. Vicira curled her lip at that but directed her attention elsewhere, staring at the stretch of broken asphalt and grass that led through the village. Perhaps if she ignored him long enough, he would go away -- or do something that justified a violent response.

Instead, Izual asked her what was wrong.

The fuck you think, Vicira asked smartly, and flicked embers in the grass before she took another long drag. Maddox died. We're in a war with enemies we know nothing about. There's a whole fucking lot wrong, so all I wanted as a smoke and to be left alone. Her hand trembled, so she stuck the joint between her teeth and curled fingers in the wet grass.

(200+) gotcha!

Normally when someone exploded in a manner such as Vicira, Luperci got the picture and left. However, such was not the case with Izual. It took a lot more than cursing and sharp words to send him off – unless, of course, she blatantly told him again to get lost, and instead of averting her gaze, looked directly into his eyes and requested it. Then maybe he’d get the hint and take his leave. However, her curses and sharp words bounced off of his soul like hail raining down on rocks. There was no damage, and Izual couldn’t even truly fathom how to properly sympathize.

”Ooooh,” he growl-purred. ”Sounds like we should do a little hunting.”

From what he had seen of her during their last hunting excursion, Vicira could exert the same energy now on a different enemy. One that mattered instead of some Wolf-loners crossing into Inferni turf. This time they could do it with a goal in mind – in the same of something.

”In the name of Maddox, in her memory.” He grinned, resting his orange eyes on her extra-chilled blues to read her emotions towards his little suggestion. He still wanted her to share, though, before any excursions were to be had.

00+

See galleries for credit.

Izual's suggestive growl might have made another's hair stand on end, either from fear or excitement -- but Vicira glanced coldly at him. Truth be told, the offer wasn't an entirely bad one; it was action, and certainly better than scaring off harmless scavengers or smoking and feeling sorry for oneself. But she wasn't a fool, either.

You can go do what you want. We don't know anything about these wolves, but I do know that they're trained. Soldiers.

She flicked an ember from the tip of the cigarette and leaned back against the house, thoughtful, pensive. I can't fight, she said, though it wasn't a grand confession. What damage she'd done to the trespassers they'd gone after had been on instinct -- wild, dominating instinct -- and not skill. Obviously not, since she'd almost gotten caught.

So go have fun, murder some wolves, however you get your jollies, Vicira said dismissively, and took another drag with more aggression than she wanted to show.

(000) oop! Izual let that slip xD

Seeing how she acted when they chased off - no, killed off – those trespassers had given Izual the impression that she liked to blow off some steam in the way that he liked sometimes. He was sure offering a suggestion of killing their enemies would rouse her, but instead she just brushed it off like it hadn’t been something she enjoyed before. This frustrated Izual and he sat up, straightened, and crossed his arms, staring at her. ”That’s not what I saw with those trespassers…” he rebutted.

And so what if they were trained soldiers? Basilio was, too, and even though Izual came close to dying in their duel, he didn’t. He wouldn’t even if there wasn’t an explanation that was holding a stranger back. He wouldn’t allow himself to be defeated – and that certainly wouldn’t happen if Vicira was at his side – right?

”Ok, so it doesn’t have to be them,” he said, referring to the soldiers. However, he held his tongue afterwards because he realized just how daring he had become in this conversation. Instead of suggesting killing off their enemies - which was a socially accepted suggestion - now he suggested something much more sinister to the Aquila’s daughter. He fell silent and was somewhat fearful of what her answer would be.

(--)

That was different, Vicira retorted.

Or was it? She had play-acted at being terrifying to drive wolves away from their home, and she certainly hadn't wanted to kill all of them; she'd stayed her hand against the woman. There was an undeniable thrill to killing, but that had quickly been turned on its head when she had been captured. One's appetite for blood quickly soured when it was one's own blood one smelled.

They need to be afraid of us, she said, and dragonlike blew sour smoke from her nostrils. Besides, I almost got killed that time, too. Why should I be in a hurry to do that again?

Then Izual casually suggested something else, and she glanced at him, flicking the remnants of the cigarette into the grass.

You're a sick fuck, she snapped, but it was evident that—whether because of her opinions, or because of the cloud of marijuana—her heart wasn't into it. Her face wrinkled with disgust but it was the disgust of one looking at a dying beetle, not the horror of staring a murderer in the face. And you realize that killing random wolves is going to lead back to us eventually, right? I should tell Vesper.

(000) thought it was a good spot to end! Thanks for the thread :D

He hadn’t meant for that to come out that way, but he hadn’t been fearful of the consequences. Luperci reacted to him and a lot of the things he said with disgust and rejection. Vicira was no different. Maybe except that she was the Aquila’s daughter. That was the only pull she had. He rather enjoyed his life in Inferni, even though he didn’t participate much.

She reacted just as he thought she would, and instead of becoming angry or defensive like a normal Luperci might, Izual smiled wide and genuine. The smile of a madman, truly. ”You can,” he spoke, sitting up. ”Just remember who saved you from getting your pretty little head ripped off by that loner.” And then he snorted, his smile fading. Then he stood and walked away, leaving her there in the solitude that she wanted in the first place.