drinking wine made for disaster
#1
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Gabe. Pre-dated to around April 3, we'll say. Also, this post is kind of bleh.


Once upon a time he and the Inferni leader had been on better terms, possibly the best in the history of the two packs. Phoenix Valley and Inferni had never really gotten along, though the origins of the bad relationship branched back to Iskata's reign. Although the cyclops had been very fond of her, he knew long after her death that she -- and her family, having gotten to know DaVinci well as a subleader once -- had a bad tendency to make trouble. She and her children never fully thought out their intentions, and Jefferson had known DaVinci to approach Inferni borders completely undaunted like his mother had, demanding answers or peace of mind. With both DaVinci and Iskata gone, Inferni and the Valley had primarily been left to themselves. With the exception of an attack on Xeris -- something Jefferson figured she'd probably asked for, anyway -- the cyclops was surprised how few interruptions there had been.


With the rise of the war, Jefferson's suspicions had spiked once more. At first he had assumed the war was Inferni's fault, that they'd gotten in Haku's conceited way somehow and, put bluntly, pissed him off. Biased due to his daughter and half-sister in Dahlia, the cyclops had warned his members to run any Inferni members away and take no heed to their words, but a meeting with the Rosea had taught him otherwise. Jefferson didn't know of the immediate details, but it occurred to him that Inferni was the victim in the war and that Haku's reign was the reason for its waging.Perhaps it was out of the goodness of his heart or the need to be informed for the sake of his pack, but Jefferson had left Phoenix Valley for the northern clan that morning.


He hadn't expected what he first found. Ashes, charcoal remnants of whatever had stood there before, marked the innards of Inferni. It was barren, empty; no souls lived there still and the air choked with smoke. Unafraid, the cyclops stepped past what had been borders and ventured on, following the dead land north. Inferni and Phoenix Valley may have been enemies, but if there was any sign of Inferni life that had somehow been left behind, then Jefferson knew what had to be done. When had this happened? Why?


At a point, the ash and shadows ended and a new skull-topped stake stood, away from where the borders had once been. It seemed they had relocated and he breathed a sigh of relief before questioning himself on it. There was no need to dodge Inferni now, if a tragedy had occurred. The clan was too proud to burn down their own territory without taking something else with it. Could he help? The cyclops didn't know; he wasn't sure he wanted to. The brute still had questions that needed answers regardless of what dead land stood behind him, and with a point to the sky he sounded a non-threatening call, a sound of peace. Sorrow, worry lurked in its echo.


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#2
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400+.

On the night of April First, two years after Gabriel de le Poer had destroyed the entirety of the land over the mountain, he had woken to smoke in his home. Panic had set in, panic because the smoke was unfamiliar and unwelcomed. When he had climbed to the grassy rise atop his den, he had seen it in the south. A line, not a brushfire. Orange and yellow snaked across the territory—his home—and Gabriel had become a man possessed. He had flown towards the source, ignoring the ache in his shoulder, ignoring that he was rushing into disaster. He could not recall if he saw anyone else; as soon as he had gotten past the bulk of the burning, he had caught his scent. A terrible noise, a snarl, a growl, a roar, had broken his throat in two and cast the smoke out of his lungs.

He had run, and he had run until he could not run anymore. Haku was long gone, and Gabriel was in no state to face him. By the time the Dahlian border had loomed in the distance, Gabriel was exhausted. He had turned back and made his way towards home. Sometime during that night he slept, for when he woke it was late afternoon. After returning to Inferni, he had spoken to clan and moved their borders north. This was not the end of the clan—they could be reborn from fire, and that fire had not been cast on them without reason. Only after things had been sorted out had the Aquila made time to hunt, taking down a small doe and eating his fill.

Sometime after that he must have dozed off, for a wolf’s cry woke him. Almost instant the coy-wolf was on his feet, moving towards the source as drowsiness left his body. What he found surprised him, for of all people, it was Jefferson standing at his border. Still reeking of deer musk and the smoky smell that now clung to Inferni, the amber eyed hybrid slowed his approach and came to a halt across from the umber wolf. Gabriel looked tired; Jefferson looked as if he was carrying an unwelcomed weight. Thinking back to the short term stay of Davinci, Gabriel wondered if this was why the Cyclops was here. “Yeah?” He asked, his throat worn and raspy from breathing the devil’s smoke for two days.



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table by sie
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#3
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It was nothing but dead land now, what charred remains laid behind him. Jefferson cringed at the thought of enduring such horror and having to deal with the aftereffects. As the pack's leader and guardian, all that happened would be on his terms, his rules, his commands. The cyclops knew he was certainly capable -- ensuring the pack's welfare was always his top priority, whether or not it was apparent or his members were in danger -- but thus far, Phoenix Valley had been left to itself and remained a land of peace. If a wildfire were to break through, would they know what to do? Would they be able to get out safely, or would their lives be held entirely in his scarred and broken hands?


Gabriel appeared promptly, as Jefferson expected. In the wake of such peril, he himself would not have found sleep even if he'd tried -- the cyclops being a moderate insomniac anyway -- but Jefferson sympathized with the heaviness of the Aquila's eyes and the sag in his shoulders. He had seen Gabriel as a pure enemy only once, and now was not that time. There was no need to drag Inferni through more drama, nor introduce it to Phoenix Valley by meddling in the ways of the war where he did not belong. The cyclops had come only in peace. "Gabriel," he said slowly, weary eye sliding heavily on the land behind him. "I walked through what's left out there when I found it. If any of yours were left behind..." He trailed off. The cyclops hoped he'd been lucky to have found no bodies.


Turning finally, green eye set on the Aquila. "Was this Haku?" A small, subtle pain lingered in his tone. That creature had been his brother once.


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#4
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Gabriel could not remember how long ago it had been since he had seen the scarred wolf. The last time they had fought, and it had been he who had turned back, running from the opponent. They were not enemies, and though there might have once despised one another, Gabriel’s battle was with another man now. He had to destroy his shadow before he even considered destroying something far greater. He watched the man before him, read his weary eye and understood that the carnage of war was being felt far beyond their own borders.

They had been lucky. The only body to be found in the fire was a wolf, one trapped and left for dead. Haku’s man. One short shake of the scarred coy-wolf’s head confirmed they had lost none of their own. Snake had been a close call, but he had made it out of the blaze and retreated back to the mansion. It was only the question, one which he was certain Jefferson knew the answer to, which caused a dull fire to spring up in his eyes, burning brightly with an anger unmatched by anything he had ever felt. “Yes,” he answered flatly. “He’s lost his mind, Jefferson.” Certainly, anyone could see that now.



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table by sie
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#5
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From what he was informed, he and Haku had never really gotten along in the first place. Apparently there had been some distaste in the air between he and Haku's father, Lisichka, for obvious reasons: The cyclops' father had disappeared, and his mother had moved on. Jefferson had been young once, and from his understanding Maluki had not been the most mature nor mentally stable of folk. As far as his interaction with Haku went, it had been limited and the two had barely known each other before Maluki had up and left. Haku had been able to recognize him years later despite the growth of age and scars, and from there no brother-life relationship had ever been formed.


"I'm not sure I've known him as anything else," he dipped his head, green eye scouring over the charred lands once more. For some reason it repeatedly drew his attention back as if each glance needed to verify it was still dead and gone. Tattered ears flattened briefly and his gaze became sympathetic as it was returned to the Aquila. They had not been on good terms once, but it was clear to Jefferson that Gabriel was as concerned with Inferni as the Patriarch was with Phoenix Valley -- they would both go to extreme measures to ensure its safety. "What happens now? Have you brought him down?"


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#6
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Gabriel could not see Haku as anything but what he was. He could not see the beast as a man, and could not see that man as a boy. He saw the road before his eyes and he saw a path drenched in blood. To imagine sharing a mother with that thing was deplorable. If he had been challenged by such a monster in his family, Gabriel would have destroyed him.

He had done so once before, after all.

Unsure of what the cyclops meant, Gabriel’s eyes narrowed slightly. He was unusually paranoid, and filled with suspicion for all outsiders these days. Still, it was painfully apparent that Jefferson was not here for any foul purpose. For this reason, Gabriel allowed himself to relax slightly. The tension slid out from his shoulders and sunk deep into aching bruises, hidden under that thick, charcoal brushed fur. “Not yet,” he admitted with bitterness in his voice. “He’s cracking. He’ll fall soon enough.” And certainly he would, though at this point even Gabriel could not predict the storm brewing within the Dahlian borders.

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table by sie
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#7
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Although he still knew relatively little when it came to both Inferni and Gabriel's ways, he could sense an obvious difference in the Aquila's presence. Jefferson guessed it was more than exhausting boggling on his mind; had the cyclops been in a similar position, the brute would have been seething and erupting, impatient when it came to emergencies. Gabriel held himself in a collected way, however, one that Jefferson sensed was well practiced. Haku would crack soon enough, yes, but to both he and Gabriel alike, that wasn't enough.


The cyclops' green eye browsed over what stood behind the Aquila, what Jefferson had yet to see for himself. "You've moved north," he observed, then returning his eye to the Inferni man. "...I'm sorry this happened to you." It wasn't much, but his words were earnest. No leader -- especially one so concerned for his land and people -- should have to endure and regroup what Inferni had already been through.


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#8
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Without the mask, and without the walls, Gabriel would have collapsed. He had broken once before, in a church over the mountain, and stabbed himself through the hand to prove something. What this had been, exactly, he no longer remembered. There was no martyrdom in his actions, only a self loathing that had never fully left his heart. This might have been because of those dark smudges on his soul, some which now might have been placed there by Haku—his shadow—in the two years they had known one another. Eventually Gabriel would cut those out. On that day, the blue eyed monster would perish.

An obvious statement, and a quiet gesture of sympathy. Gabriel did not care for this. He needed no sympathy. “You had nothing to do with it,” he coughed, rubbing his tongue against the roof of his mouth. It tasted like ash and smoke, and he hated it. “How’s the Valley? I haven’t heard much from your pack since Iskata died.” A slip, though he did not realize it. He had forgotten in these troubling times that one of his crimes had not made it to the surface. As far as he was concerned, she was buried under the ocean’s waves.



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table by sie
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#9
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Jefferson spoke out of sympathy, but he should have known better. It was not exactly thanked or welcomed; there was a confirmation of sorts that he and his pack had been uninvolved and was thus faultless, but that was hardly a response. The cyclops twitched his ears, unimpressed with the lack of emotion in the Aquila's response, but it was no use. He himself would probably have been no different: numb, but perhaps Gabriel was always like that.


His next words were somewhat more positive, however, until the mentioning of Iskata. Jefferson was aware she and Gabriel had never been on good terms, thus her name on his tongue was more than a surprise. Jefferson had led the pack in her stead for well over a year now, and he'd been surprised if any of the neighboring packs were not yet aware of the changes. He'd gotten himself involved with most of the packs at one point or another -- the only pack Phoenix Valley still sparsely knew was Cour des Miracles, and that was only because the cyclops' son lingered there and had made it clear he wasn't welcome.


Jefferson cleared his throat and sighed. "They're a quiet bunch. They don't want to hurt anybody, so they keep to themselves." He hated to admit it, but, "With Iskata and DaVinci both gone, we haven't had anyone to drag us into trouble. I prefer it that way."


What he didn't understand was how Gabriel knew Iskata was dead, when not even the cyclops himself did. Perhaps the Aquila had assumed, as had Jefferson, that someone like Iskata could not simply disappear from a place she was so dedicated to. Death was the only other option, and thus far the cream-colored wolfess had not proved them wrong.


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#10
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Like his son, Gabriel was a soldier before everything else. He had excelled in this, and the natural leadership that he had inherited given him strength to become Aquila. For well over two years Gabriel had taken the coyote clan and turned it from the rag-tag bunch of savages they were perceived as and into something much more. Offense was not his goal, and never had been. Wars got people killed, and they had seen this twice now. So, by all accounts, the fact he became numb was not obscene. It was, if anything, typical.

Amber eyes sharpened, and turned hawk-like, as they focused on his companion’s scarred face. Not that long ago, they might have been enemies. A common danger negated their foolish pride. “It’s probably better that way,” he echoed, white teeth shining against his dark muzzle. “You get one or two people that stir things up and everyone gets dragged into it. Haku’s a prime example,” he grunted, sparing a glance towards the south. After a long moment, the Aquila turned back to the Patriarch. “You two are related, yeah?”

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table by sie
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#11
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They were related, all right, but that relationship meant little to Jefferson. DaVinci and Iskata had not been the extreme Haku was now, but to Jefferson--who had never wanted to lead a pack in the first place, and at first knew nothing about charisma or having so many depend on him--it had been an overwhelming process, keeping the subleader in line while his mother wasted away in depression. Jefferson hadn't known what to do. Still in his mind, he believed he was not supposed to be there leading a pack, serving only as a placeholder until someone else came along or until he chose the pack needed disbanding. So far he was not considering either option, and now that DaVinci had moved on to do his own things, Phoenix Valley had calmed again to the point that Jefferson actually felt capable of managing it.


When it came to Haku, the Patriarch could only be grateful he hadn't been in Cercelee's position. They had fought, not long ago, when Jefferson came to talk him out of the war at Dahlian borders. Perhaps the cyclops had seen it coming, or at least he had not counted out the possibility of it happening. "Half-brothers," he nodded, gaze distracted. "Had I known the war would get this bad, I might have gotten more involved with stopping him, but I doubt it would have made much difference. I don't know if we had a relationship when we were young, but there isn't one now. I don't consider him my brother, not what he is now."


His ear twitched as he fell silent briefly, then turned an earnest green eye back to the Aquila. "How is Ryan? Zana?" Ryan was one of few Inferni he cared for, and with the disappearance of DaVinci, he didn't know what to expect. Zana, on the other hand, he didn't know what to think of at all.


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#12
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Those who were thrust into leadership were often the ones most suited for the task. Gabriel had been chosen twice, and once by abandonment. Kaena had been a competent leader, but she was too caught up in her own head to prove effective. In a way, her leaving Inferni was the best thing for the clan. It had been only because of this that Gabriel had the chance to lead, and he had led well. Over the mountain, through the fire, and through two wars. Neither of which he had begun, though he certainly intended to finish them. Rest could not come until that blue eyed beast’s head was on a pike.

Gabriel was not old enough to recall his mother’s shadow, but had he been, he would have drawn a comparison in Haku. In a way, Dahlia de Mai had followed in Jaded Shadows footsteps nearly completely. Jefferson’s words were those not of indifference, but of ignorance. Like many of the wolves in the area, he had not fully understood that they were fighting a demon. Gabriel’s eyes darkened, focusing on the scarred man’s face, trying to read the runes there and understand what they meant.

The posed question caught him by surprise, and Gabriel blinked, head pulling back just slightly. He considered this for a moment, unsure how best to answer. “Ryan and Zana are with DaVinci. He came here very briefly with them, but I think the war scared him off. They have kids now,” he added, grunting the information out. However fond he was of his cousin’s daughter, there was still an issue with her suitor of choice.

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#13
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Pretty sure Gabe completely misunderstood Jefferson there. >>; Want to fade to an end with your post, maybe?


Jefferson could not exactly be ashamed of the happenings involving Zana; she had been under Iskata's care first, and DaVinci's next. Had the silver-furred nuisance not been a subleader, Jefferson might have been more concerned and watchful for the little girl's status, but he'd foolishly trusted DaVinci in that he was capable of taking care of her. Ultimately, because Zana had been a member of Phoenix Valley, she was still under his authority and responsibility; he had never really considered it before then, especially because DaVinci had let her go as rapidly as she'd been handed into his care. His pack and Inferni had been warring, but when he heard Zana had been moved into the coyote clan's care, he knew she would not be mistreated, but the environment perhaps not as keen for her to grow in. She had been Iskata's daughter and DaVinci's sister; he knew better than to meddle in their familial affairs, and if his subleader had not tried to rescue her and never brought it up with the leader, then Jefferson was not going to get involved. In addition, he'd heard that Zana was being raised by Ryan alongside her pup, and the cyclops trusted the de le Poer girl and her maternal capabilities. Zana was probably better off with a mother figure like Ryan and an adopted sibling than alone, in Phoenix Valley, with an irresponsible older brother.

Jefferson was surprised to hear that DaVinci had returned, however, and somehow ducked under the cyclops' range of sight. He certainly had not ventured to Phoenix Valley without the leader's notice, there was no possible way; Jefferson was far too keen and alert when it came to foreign scents and strangers around his home. There was a vague confirmation that DaVinci had stayed in Inferni, but Jefferson supposed that was best. It avoided the useless conflict the ex-subleader's romance carelessly brought, and it kept Gabriel from stalking their borders for blood. It was good to know the family was safe, at least. "Good to know," the cyclops grunted, finally. "If he shows up again, tell him it wouldn't hurt to visit." They had been friends, after all, and Jefferson didn't have many friends.

The Patriarch sighed, finally, and glanced over his shoulder. If he didn't leave soon, he would have to travel in the dark--and with one eye, though he was used to it, night traveling was taxing. "I should go. Gabriel... any problems you have with Haku are mine as well. You have our support, should you need it."


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#14
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     “I’ll tell him,” Gabriel said shortly, secretly hoping he would never see the brat again. Since childhood he had hated the boy, finding him obnoxious and headstrong. Such attitude would not settle well against him, and he sought to stamp it out at the source. Even Hybrid, who was renown for his aggression, knew how to show respect around his leader. Certainly, many of the Inferni coyotes had not been used to showing such things, but Gabriel was a wolf by and large and still expected it. Having his right to lead challenge infuriated him to no end. He had struggled to hold Inferni together. He had fought wars over it.
     Then, though he did not expect it, Jefferson offered not only his aid, but the aid of his pack. Struck by the motion, Gabriel blinked owlishly. Then he smiled, perhaps the first true smile he had done in a long time. It did not meet the shadow lurking in his eyes. “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind. When he falls, the world will know.” He imagined there was a shift in his scarred companion’s face, but perhaps it was a trick of the light. The two exchanged nods of farewell and Gabriel watched the cyclops make his way east, losing sight of him past the tree line.




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