08-20-2012, 09:41 AM
[html]
ooc.
Dear GOD, I am rustier than....a rusty thing.
Backdated to the morning of the 19th.
ic.
Though his footfalls were quiet and his passage through the area went mostly unnoticed, Thaddeus Dahmer couldn't shake the unease that coursed through his body. He was not used to travelling in this way – out in the open without sticking to the shadows. And to make things worse, the dusty cowl he wore served only to make him even more conspicuous. In the urban lands of his former home, his clothing would have aided the male in blending into the background. He would move amongst the shadows, leaping from roof top to roof top as he chased his quarry. And at the end of the chase a life would be ended with a swift leap – silent and deadly. No one would see him coming, and certainly he wouldn't be spotted leaving. Not unless he wanted to be. That was when he wanted to send a message. But now? He didn't even travel through the tree tops, forcing himself to stay on the ground and out in the open. It went against all his training and Dahmer had to ignore the shouting in his head telling him to take to the trees. Instincts that would take a while to control and ignore. It was all bred into him, rules and behaviour instilled in him since he was a young pup.
He shook his head forcefully, the hood of his robes falling forward and casting his face in shadow. That was then. He had turned his back on all of that. Memories threatened to break through his careful control, and the massive brute fought hard to keep them at bay. Not now. He paused in his step, bringing a gloved hand across his eyes as he struggled for possession of his wayward thoughts. He had no time for this! With practised discipline the young male reigned in his thoughts and pulled them from the painful avenues they sought. It was more important to focus on the present – the future, even. He couldn't dwell on the past and its damaging properties. He couldn't take any of it back, the wolf knew that all too well. But he could remove himself from it and set out for brighter horizons. Take comfort from the positives. He was able to leave intact. Physically, at least. And he was better off in some circumstances, wasn't he? The male boasted a particular set of skills and possessed tools of the trade, both mental and physical. And above all, he had his honour. Something that had stuck with him from the beginning. Something that had led him from there to here after all this time. The negative things would certainly continue to haunt him for some time, but for now he needed to force it to fall along the wayside. There were more important things to focus on.
Dahmer halted his steps entirely, his shrewd eyes seeking out potential danger. There was nothing to note, aside from the breeze through the trees and the soft sounds of activity caused by the lesser animals. Since he wasn't hunting, their noises meant nothing to him. The male took a deep breath, relishing the fresh air around him. There were no screams of terror or anger for him to hear, The crashing sound of pursuit was absent and the stench of fear hadn't bombarded his nostrils for weeks now. He had finally escaped. There was only one last thing he needed to do to leave it behind. It took him a few more moments of thought, and a great deal of concentrated effort. The male's next actions were symbolic in many ways – their true significance important only to him and perhaps a few others he dared not think of.
He moved slowly, as though gravity suddenly increased. The large wolf's movements were careful and deliberate, as though a great deal of thought went into every flex of his muscle. And it had. He slowly peeled off each glove and tucked them carefully away in a compartment of the bag that had been on his shoulder up until a few moments ago. Unconsciously, the male patted the pouch where they now lay, unsure of when he'd ever use them again. But that was what he wanted, wasn't it? As if to confirm this thought he barely wished to acknowledge, the male nodded slightly and continued in his labours. His next actions were even more hesitant and careful in the extreme. After a few moments of deliberation and long familiar motions, Thaddeus Dahmer's most important tool was removed from his right forearm. Instead of packing the hidden blade away immediately as he had done with the gloves, the scarred male took a few moments of quiet reflection. Somehow the removal of this crucial weapon felt like the most significant thing he'd done so far. Even more so than simply leaving his former home. Irreversible, somehow. Even though he knew he could go back to it any time he wished – putting it away as he did now felt final. But he did it anyway, pulling the belt to the compartment tight. From here on out, everything seemed easy. The male quickly removed his robes and other dressings, packing them away as well. He was now completely bare, save for the pack that held all his belongings. His entire past.
Certain he was on the outskirts of a claimed territory – a place he wished to call home, the werewolf pierced the sky with a polite request for company. This was another new sensation for the former assassin. To call out for someone, deliberately giving away his position. But how else were they supposed to find him? He certainly couldn't step past the boundaries and seek out a pack member. No matter how things worked in his past, Dahmer was entirely aware of decorum. No, he would wait patiently for someone to come to him.
Pale blue eyes squinted at the sun as it filtered through the branches and leaves around him. He set his bag aside and concentrated further, determined to complete the last step to his ritual. Several moments later he was on all fours – a form he had not been in a long time. Dahmer was surprised – he had expected to feel panicked, like an outcast in his skin. But as he stood there, feeling the ground firm beneath his paws he couldn't find a trace of anxiety in his body. Somehow, in spite of everything, Dahmer felt as though he was exactly where he needed to be. Who he needed to be. He was comfortable and even glad to have shed his former self. It would all catch up to him later – in the hours before sleep, his anxieties would seize him again and he would toss and turn amongst a sea of doubt. But for now, all he could feel was the sweet sensation of relief. With this emotion guiding his actions, the male nudged the bag that possessed his past up over his head and onto his shoulders before stepping forward and into his new life.
[/html]
ooc.
Dear GOD, I am rustier than....a rusty thing.
Backdated to the morning of the 19th.
ic.
Though his footfalls were quiet and his passage through the area went mostly unnoticed, Thaddeus Dahmer couldn't shake the unease that coursed through his body. He was not used to travelling in this way – out in the open without sticking to the shadows. And to make things worse, the dusty cowl he wore served only to make him even more conspicuous. In the urban lands of his former home, his clothing would have aided the male in blending into the background. He would move amongst the shadows, leaping from roof top to roof top as he chased his quarry. And at the end of the chase a life would be ended with a swift leap – silent and deadly. No one would see him coming, and certainly he wouldn't be spotted leaving. Not unless he wanted to be. That was when he wanted to send a message. But now? He didn't even travel through the tree tops, forcing himself to stay on the ground and out in the open. It went against all his training and Dahmer had to ignore the shouting in his head telling him to take to the trees. Instincts that would take a while to control and ignore. It was all bred into him, rules and behaviour instilled in him since he was a young pup.
He shook his head forcefully, the hood of his robes falling forward and casting his face in shadow. That was then. He had turned his back on all of that. Memories threatened to break through his careful control, and the massive brute fought hard to keep them at bay. Not now. He paused in his step, bringing a gloved hand across his eyes as he struggled for possession of his wayward thoughts. He had no time for this! With practised discipline the young male reigned in his thoughts and pulled them from the painful avenues they sought. It was more important to focus on the present – the future, even. He couldn't dwell on the past and its damaging properties. He couldn't take any of it back, the wolf knew that all too well. But he could remove himself from it and set out for brighter horizons. Take comfort from the positives. He was able to leave intact. Physically, at least. And he was better off in some circumstances, wasn't he? The male boasted a particular set of skills and possessed tools of the trade, both mental and physical. And above all, he had his honour. Something that had stuck with him from the beginning. Something that had led him from there to here after all this time. The negative things would certainly continue to haunt him for some time, but for now he needed to force it to fall along the wayside. There were more important things to focus on.
Dahmer halted his steps entirely, his shrewd eyes seeking out potential danger. There was nothing to note, aside from the breeze through the trees and the soft sounds of activity caused by the lesser animals. Since he wasn't hunting, their noises meant nothing to him. The male took a deep breath, relishing the fresh air around him. There were no screams of terror or anger for him to hear, The crashing sound of pursuit was absent and the stench of fear hadn't bombarded his nostrils for weeks now. He had finally escaped. There was only one last thing he needed to do to leave it behind. It took him a few more moments of thought, and a great deal of concentrated effort. The male's next actions were symbolic in many ways – their true significance important only to him and perhaps a few others he dared not think of.
He moved slowly, as though gravity suddenly increased. The large wolf's movements were careful and deliberate, as though a great deal of thought went into every flex of his muscle. And it had. He slowly peeled off each glove and tucked them carefully away in a compartment of the bag that had been on his shoulder up until a few moments ago. Unconsciously, the male patted the pouch where they now lay, unsure of when he'd ever use them again. But that was what he wanted, wasn't it? As if to confirm this thought he barely wished to acknowledge, the male nodded slightly and continued in his labours. His next actions were even more hesitant and careful in the extreme. After a few moments of deliberation and long familiar motions, Thaddeus Dahmer's most important tool was removed from his right forearm. Instead of packing the hidden blade away immediately as he had done with the gloves, the scarred male took a few moments of quiet reflection. Somehow the removal of this crucial weapon felt like the most significant thing he'd done so far. Even more so than simply leaving his former home. Irreversible, somehow. Even though he knew he could go back to it any time he wished – putting it away as he did now felt final. But he did it anyway, pulling the belt to the compartment tight. From here on out, everything seemed easy. The male quickly removed his robes and other dressings, packing them away as well. He was now completely bare, save for the pack that held all his belongings. His entire past.
Certain he was on the outskirts of a claimed territory – a place he wished to call home, the werewolf pierced the sky with a polite request for company. This was another new sensation for the former assassin. To call out for someone, deliberately giving away his position. But how else were they supposed to find him? He certainly couldn't step past the boundaries and seek out a pack member. No matter how things worked in his past, Dahmer was entirely aware of decorum. No, he would wait patiently for someone to come to him.
Pale blue eyes squinted at the sun as it filtered through the branches and leaves around him. He set his bag aside and concentrated further, determined to complete the last step to his ritual. Several moments later he was on all fours – a form he had not been in a long time. Dahmer was surprised – he had expected to feel panicked, like an outcast in his skin. But as he stood there, feeling the ground firm beneath his paws he couldn't find a trace of anxiety in his body. Somehow, in spite of everything, Dahmer felt as though he was exactly where he needed to be. Who he needed to be. He was comfortable and even glad to have shed his former self. It would all catch up to him later – in the hours before sleep, his anxieties would seize him again and he would toss and turn amongst a sea of doubt. But for now, all he could feel was the sweet sensation of relief. With this emotion guiding his actions, the male nudged the bag that possessed his past up over his head and onto his shoulders before stepping forward and into his new life.
[/html]