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darling take me home to the castle made of skulls and bones
It was here that he had been reunited with Kaena, and it was here that he allowed his soul to decay. The alcohol numbed his mind and drown his thoughts, though it did not bring back the voice of the Angel. Sunlight filtered down through the cloud cover, barely breaking through the pale white that muted all color. His mind did not dwell on such things though. Seated on the sand, peering out across the waves he held the cool glass bottle in his hand, resting gently against his leg. When he rose the world swayed, so he remained where he was, closing his eyes to the hellish barrage that suddenly seemed louder within his head. Always, louder and louder as the years went by. Soon he would hear nothing else save the shrieks and cries of the damned, calling out to him from beyond the mortal realm.
They screamed as they were torn apart, feeling their flesh rip and burn in the sulfuric lake. He could smell the heavy scent, and he could see the flames, billowing around him and clouding his senses with impenetrable smoke. He was already in hell. He didn’t need to die to see Lucifer’s grand work, though the Angel’s voice no longer seemed to call out to him. Such things tore him apart from within. The wind picked up loose strands of his dark hair—head low and resting on the arm perched across his knee. He was too drunk to walk, and he had a small cache within the nearest cave to keep himself in such a state for a time. Skin stretched tautly over bone, it wasn’t as though he’d be doing much else any time soon anyway.
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Delayed. Work has been a royal pain in my ass. D: +5
Her feet moved in a languid stride that German Shepherds displayed, making any Shepherd's pace look effortless and gliding, even when shifted into Optime. Her feet didn't have a port of call to rest, for Talitha had been traveling for quite sometime now like this, her otherwise journey worn soles still felt restless of themselves. Always had to be moving, no matter what. There was always something to see, to hear, to meet, to experience, and it felt like Talitha was starting over from square one for the sixth time already with returning (it was Gabriel who sent her off last time due to the Dahlian war, but it was still another tally mark against her for lack of loyalty). For once in this bitter world, Talitha wanted to make a name for herself, maybe even a shiny, impressive title to go with. Everything transitioned so smoothly in the beginning, as she was first blossoming into the iron-fisted daughter Gabriel bore until the incident occurred, and from that point Talitha couldn't seem to break herself from a vicious cycle that consumed her mind and soul like a black hole. There was no welcome back party of her, no one even seemed to vaguely remember who she was, or what she even did. Worthless, her conscious said, and would toy with the prospect of why she came back in the first place. If daddy wasn't the Aquila you wouldn't even be here again, what could you possibly do that is of material worth to Inferni? Her conscious was already starting to work its way to making low blows.
Whiskey was her elixir to transcend her into a woozy land of haze and endorphins, and the cure to put her conscious at bay. Her journal was absent in possession, as Talitha spent the several days returned to write her fingers off for sake of clarity and to actually write again. To replace worn pages was her silvery flask, although disappointingly empty. The last taste of whiskey lingered on the back of her tongue, and it wasn't enough fuel to keep her driving. What was already in her system was bound to wear off or take no effect, so maybe her wandering did have an underlying purpose to find that glorious substance to make the world a more tolerable place. Sensing the salty, balmy breeze and how the ground beneath her feet became soft and sinkable, her heart leaped against her chest as Talitha was met with a creamy smear of sand and a horizon of water. Freezing up and stopping in place, she blinked, and her unusually long ears twitched and flattened out of dawning realization. Of all places to end up, why did it have to be a place that reminded her so much of that evil entity that took her sanity, took her innocence, took her virginity for heaven's sake?
There was something her nose was picking up on that the rest of her senses didn't get the hint of, and that was the alkaline like scent of liquor. Talitha was blessed with a mixture of the genes from shepherd, coyote, wolf, and red wolf to have an insanely acute sense of smelling to her nose, and even if it was finding a bottle of rum hidden within a meat locker, Talitha would find it in two minutes flat. With that teasing scent came a figure in the distance, and her fingers gripping her flask rubbed against it, a gesture that was like soothing her container to let it know it was alright, there was a hopeful means to fill it. Despite how the scenery alone was beginning to gnaw at her paranoia, Talitha took the risk in order to make her effortless striding right down to shore side. Funny, how alcohol was a means for confidence, how alcohol could make her face her fears like it never even phased her in the first place. The figure held no mass, no meat to him, with long midnight hair that Talitha first assumed it might have been a female who looked tomboyish, but there was his masculine scent mixed with the scent of sweet liquor upon him.
Talitha wasn't able to get any notable facial features from him (due to his shadowing hair), but as cynical as Talitha was, there was still a touch of boldness within that made her come right up to him, and her arm extended to wave her empty flask around as if she was a beggar asking to spare some change. Giving a striking smile and fluttering her crimson eyes, it was like a leeching alcoholic and some attractive assets that would hopefully get her what she longed to devour. "Care to spare a sip of a shot or two?" Talitha didn't need much drink in her to get her going, and judging from his possession, seemed like it would be some good stuff to kick her off a swag or two.
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darling take me home to the castle made of skulls and bones
Madness grew with such chemical reactions. He could see the beach turning to fire and ash, and the ocean to burning sulfur. His skin was aflame, ripping from the bone as devils tore at him with elongated claws. Steadily, reality was torn from the coyote—if he’d ever even had a proper grasp on it in the first place, since his birth. He was the son of the devil, marked by the beast, and born of a mortal woman that he loved above all else. Fingers drove into the sand, feeling the grains against his skin, yet it burned like fire. Gaze lifted as a figure approached, this one different than the others. This one smelled of Inferni, and reminded him of Gabriel—dear Gabriel and his holy fire. He smiled wickedly, even as she drew nearer, holding out her flask to him. He raised the bottle in his hand, offering it out to her.
“Take all you’d like. I’ve got more,” he said, leaning back on his hands in the sand. He couldn’t properly focus on her, though he wasn’t particularly concerned with trying. She looked like her father and that was all that he needed to know. “Little Lykoi, what are you doing away from home?” he asked, words heavy with drink. Of course, he couldn’t recall if he’d ever met any of the brats before in his life, or even if he’d even known about her before, but with a face like that there was only one man that could have sired her. It was unmistakable, unless he was imagining things.
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+5
It was like the theory of holding your hand out to ask the universe to provide you with wealth, well-being, a suited mate, whatever you aspired to ask for, and the universe would respond to your request with whatever you wanted, just as long as you were fearless in going after what you desired. At least that is the sort of belief system that Talitha was catching onto, though. Her request was provided easily and without any interrogation, as the withered looking Lykoi raised his bottle to her, to which with a small smile of gratitude she eagerly accepted. "Why, much obliged." Tipping the bottle to where the alcohol would pour directly into her flask with as much carefulness as possible, the hybrid would top off what she could for the time being and return what was left to the drunkard on the shoreline. There were several dribbling rivers that weren't caught in the silver container, to which Talitha would lap them up quickly before a drop of such would go to waste. Tasting the metallic, burning sensation of the alcohol, she relished in licking her lips in the strong aftertaste.
Giving a gesture of light cheers of thanks with raising her flask to him, the hybrid gracefully fell indian style in place next to him (keeping a comfortable space of distance between, but still relatively close next to him). Lifting the flask to her lips thereafter, there was a gulping swig taken, fire trailing down her throat and shaking her head as the inferno of liquid scorched down her throat, raising back up in what felt like an invisible plume of after effect to burn her throat, and then travel up her nasal cavity to trigger her eyes to water. Good stuff. The lithe and bony Lykoi questioned upon her whereabouts of straying so far at home, and letting the question sink into her mind momentarily, Talitha then gave a careless shrug with a snort. "I ask that to myself everyday. Indecisiveness? Wanderlust? Dissatisfaction?" The possibilities were endless, and even though it was really such a simple question to answer, she just had to make it difficult for herself. "Home was never a fitting nor constant word in my vocabulary. No rhyme or reason to it." Talitha been robbed from the Hell's Coast, her birthplace, when she was very young with the fire that destroyed the original territories of Inferni, countless time left these lands in order to avoid confliction, sent off by Gabriel for her protection, leaving because she couldn't stand the hysterics that happened with war, domination, and so on and so forth with a whole array of excuses and reasons.
Taking another swagger from her flask, an eyebrow quirked as she narrowed her crimson gaze toward the enigmatic Lykoi beside her, catching more of a frontal view of his facial features (or what she could still see from beyond the drape of his long hair, which was quite elegant for a male to wear). "And I'm assuming you're the type of man who is sentimental and loves to take longing walks and moments alone along the beach, right?" It was dry humor, her voice only hinting slight amusement, but it was evident that for an individual such as he, his demeanor and approach did look a little offset from the rest of the scenery. Maybe Talitha shouldn't be so prejudice in the first place.
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