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ooc: :I be careful. she's been practising throwing knives now, since the last escapade with Haku XD
wc: 400
Dusk. The world was pregnant with expectation, the sky heavy and lidded with the incoming bruises of night. The buildings of Halifax city soared, scraping heaven with rusting and crumbling claws or iron. The corpse of the city surrounded her, it's husk empty in the twilight, the peculiar mingling of day and night that set all predatory senses alight with sometime instinctual, something that stirred deep in the gut as mineral canine eyes reflected the dying light.
But still the sun clung to the horizon, a desperate golden eye glaring out at the city in blinding spears of light. The woman walked silently, her footpaws ghostly on the old bitumen that snaked with weeds and crawling tendrils. Thick auburn curls tumbled, unbound, down creamy shoulders, died blood red by the setting sun. She moved with the poignant grace of a dancer, her small, lithe body pausing only to cast brilliant emerald eyes to the horizon. Home, the Chien Hotel, waited for her beyond the city, but something drew her to remain in the cradle of Halifax. Night was not a terror to her, it was a blessing, as was the way of most of her kind. There were no human associations of evil to accompany the darkness, and animal eyes could adjust so as to see almost perfectly.
Though bare of all clothing, a leather strap ran over one shoulder, between two humble breasts, ending in a bulging leather pouch. It's content clinked faintly in the silence, the soft cacophony of small glass bottles dancing against one another, muffled only by the smothering of various leaves and materials and tools. The bag seemed heavy, but the collie-woman bore it without thought, a familiar and comforting weight that bumped at the curve of her hip. Right at the bottom of the leather satchel, Alaine had fastened a small pouch made of sheep intestines, beaten till the skin was smooth. It contained a necklace, the likes of which had never been matched in quality the entirety of her life. Alaine had almost forgotten it's origins, but it had remained with her always, and held great sentimental value to the Apothecary.
The stars began to blink, winking down knowingly at the solitary wanderer. Momentarily entranced by their beauty, she climbed a fallen pylon to sit atop a tall concrete slab, the sun at her back at the moon lighting her surprisingly young face.
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Gabriel came to the city to burn.
He would not have done so without knowing the beast was dead. Yet the beast had been slain by his own blade, slain in both body and soul. Pieces of him had been scattered to the four corners of the earth—Gabriel had taken a choice few for his signs. A jawbone, a necklace, the humerus, a rib. He kept nothing for himself. The beast was tainted and had left his marks on the warrior’s face. Trophies were meaningless to him.
He had carried these prizes in an old bag, one he had carried back from Utah. Its contents were much lighter now. Conor had the necklace. His mother had the jawbone. Two more victims had to be repaid.
But there was work to do.
The coy-wolf had found his supplies scattered throughout Halifax. It had taken nearly the entire day for him to do so. Cleansing would not take as long. Kerosene and matches stolen from a camping supply store was all he needed. Gabriel stood outside of the grim room and stared down into it. His right hand, the hand of Stigmata, the hand of Christ-is-Lord, moved high to low and east to west over the objects before him. The words Gabriel spoke were ancient, made to expunge demons from the world. This was what he believed he needed to do now.
Like the first fire, and the fire after, Gabriel did not spend long setting it. He watched the flames burn high, watched them rise higher, and remained there until they had burnt to embers. No part of the demon’s cache would linger. He was gone for all time (though his blood still coursed through living bodies, a fact Gabriel did not ignore).
Smelling of smoke, carrying a bag burdened by his dead enemy, the Aquila moved through the city. In his youth, such places had called to him. Now, in his fifth year, the husks of a crumbled race did not suit his needs. Gabriel was a creature made of blood and bone and fang, of the desert and of war. Humans were too soft, too weak, too proud. All of these things he looked down on. Yet he still walked through the place as if he might have owned it, fearing nothing now that his Shadow was dead.
The gold-black beast, not truly wolf, not truly coyote, found he was not alone. His feet slowed to a stop and he paused to linger and admire her beauty. Even at this distance, he could appreciate something so finely crafted.
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ooc: sorry for machine-gun posting. got nothing better to do today than lurk xP
wc: 429
She wasn't sure how long it took for her to notice him. He could have been standing there for seconds, minutes. Hours. But she sensed it, that slow prickling of consciousness that slides across one's skin, the intense feeling of eyes bearing deep into the flesh. She sat still, looking at the stars, but knowing of his presence. Then, so swift so as to blink would be to miss it, one ivory hand had slipped from within the healer's leather pouch and withdrew, holding in-palm the small herbal dagger concealed there. A the same moment, her body twisted to face him, hand extended, dagger-tip pointing like an accusatory finger towards the onlooker. It took a moment for her emerald eyes to adjust, to focus, twin lenses of jade flecked with fear and mistrust. Just a moment, for her watcher to swim into vision.
Her hand trembled slightly, but the woman's body remained perfectly still, a cream statue of femininity atop the cold plateau of concrete.
Alaine wasn't exactly sure why the dagger hadn't whizzed from her hand and scored him, right between the eyes, as she'd practiced. Her hand was skilled with the light-weight weapon now - She'd made it so, having grown weary of being at the mercy of a fate that seemed glibly entertained by taunting her so. The Apothecary had felt herself becoming no less than prey, for she was in the world of wolves and coyotes, a world where collie blood held no stead in the aims of battle. She'd entertained the art of knife-throwing for some time now, since the blue-eyed demon had almost claimed her, since the last time she'd felt true and heart-dulling fear. He was too far away, perhaps, to small a mark for her to have hit. The weapon would have been wasted, having not met it's target.
No, that wasn't it. The woman rose slowly from her seated position to stand, that dagger never ceasing to point to the stranger, a loyal compass pointing north, north, north. A light and hollow breeze toyed with the air between them, tossing her curls playfully, pulling a lazy cloud of ash and dust to swirl about them daringly. He smelt like smoke, and faintly of the forest. Her emerald eyes narrowed beseechingly, warily.
"Who goes there? Pray, tell me, and come unarmed." Her voice wavered out into the clean silence, melodic as was it's nature, foreign (and distinctly so). But recognizable, perhaps, or soothing, perhaps. The dagger glinted cold ice and dying flame in the light of the sun and the moon.
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Even as the blade found his body, like a compass needle pointing to true north, Gabriel could not break his gaze from her. There was something utterly hypnotic about the way she looked. It was not simply her figure, which was smaller than a coyote and silkier then a wolf. Her coat was copper and chestnut-crème, white and ivory and not meant for the world they lived in. Gabriel had met many strange breeds in his years, including dog-hybrids, but she did not look like them. Purebred, most likely. A rarity in these lands.
The wind turned and twisted, making dust-devils in its wake, taking his scent and giving him her own as it came. It took him several long moments to realize where he had smelt it before, and the knowledge left him relieved. Another victim saved from the beast. He did not recall her face that night, only that she had been there, and she had called for him.
So now, hearing her voice spoken, he smiled wistfully. It was a beautiful voice, and tugged at a memory he could not place. “I don’t carry weapons,” he said, and raised his hands to show her. In the center of his right palm a scar stood out, marking him as an apostle forever amen. “You were the one he was attacking,” Gabriel added, as if this might place her in his memory, and his in her own.
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wc: 582
To her words, the stranger smiled. She could see him now, as the dying sun inched lower, lighting the man's golden fur like cleansing ethereal flame. His smile was made of sharp white diamond, and the healer's suspicious expression remained - Smiles meant little to her but the baring off teeth, be in friendship or no. However, he complied with her request, revealing palms empty but for the cupping of a sole scar, slashed like lightning across calloused flesh. The collie-woman found herself momentarily transfixed with the puckered line of flesh, her emerald eyes darting between it and the flinty gold of his own gaze.
He spoke. His words were gravel, deep baritone swell, bearing enough weight that the silence itself paused to listen. She knew from the husk of his words that the stranger was used to making himself heard. A man of presence, then? A man of status? Jade highlights flickered momentarily with interest within those transfixed forest-green orbs, the only sign that Alaine was relenting in her dominant stance. For what dominance had she here, in this no-mans land? The dagger in her hand glinted still, matching the cold and dangerous sheen of his teeth.
However, it was his second sentence that made her shift, lithe dancer's frame stiffening in a jolt of surprise, memory run ragged through her mind's eye. Of course, of course she had seen him before, although not in a body such as this. Then, he had been an avenging creature, with the fire of vengeance to light yellow-gold eyes, and demon blood on his tongue. Now, he was a two-leg, and as he melted forward from the shadows the Apothecary found herself giving swift appraisal. He had a lean, muscular build (A fighter? A lover?), covered in thick, unruly hair, tossed as hers was in the meandering breeze. A wolf? Not quite, for in that stance was a mixture of bloods, as in hers was a foreign oddity, a forest-nymph from another land. Another world, perhaps. It was indeed a surprise that such a slender frame could live and breath in such a harsh place, but Alaine was tougher than she initially appeared.
"You saved me." Perhaps there was gratitude in the lilting music of her voice, but it was hard to tell. Not a question, but a statement - Her lips remained poised in thought, emerald eyes measuring the male a moment more. Then, slowly, the dagger that pointed at his breast lowered, till the white dove of her hand was limp at the enticing curve of a feminine hip, the cold blade kept in palm but for now rendered useless. Not to be deceived - For in a moment, a split moment, she could hurl it anon and split atoms mere inches from his head.
Something about his voice, his stance, rekindled a whispering murmur within the chambers of her memory. Little known to Alaine, this man had been her savior on more than one occasion.
"... Who are you?" And how is it that I know those eyes? With elven grace, the woman returned to her seated position, not wishing yet to grace the man below with her direct presence. It was safer to remain up here, elevated above him by the cold bone of concrete, than to meet him eye to eye; not yet, did she dare such a feat. Something about him made the air tingle with danger. Her emerald eyes trekked the masculine lines of his face questioningly.
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There was a moment where he was certain she would kill him outright. Doubt lingered in her face and her body remained ready to slaughter him. This was good, though. Now she would not need to fear the beasts of this world, who preyed on the weak and sought to swallow their pure hearts whole. Haku was dead, but there would be another. Oh certainly there would be another. Gabriel knew this because Haku had been his Shadow, Haku was the wolf inside of him, and the wolf was not dead and never would die—and the wolf was the metaphorical monster, the beast that would destroy and slaughter and seek the end of days.
His ears twitched at her voice, a musical thing, and he was grateful that she remembered him. If not he likely would have been dead where he stood. His own hands mirrored her movement down, lowering to the thick fur around his thighs. A shock of dark hair, hair that had once been a deep gold marred by red and pale straw, twisted in the cooling air. Gabriel did not look anything like himself. The coyote had been chased out by the more aggressive and savage wolf and this had been the only reason he had survived.
He made no movement, cautious even now. He lacked speed in this form, and doubted he could escape the knife—and if he could, it was not a chance the recovering warrior was willing to take. “Gabriel,” he said. An archangel of vengeance, chosen by God to slaughter the wicked and bring them to justice. He sometimes wondered if his father had known this when he had been named. Ahren had always been able to see more then he should have. That was, perhaps, why he had gone mad.
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wc: 300+
Still her gaze lingered, the piercing mineral green unable to tear itself from the portrait of this half-stranger, this avenging and yet somehow terrible man. The muscles in her stomach remained clenched, her tense form unable to relax whilst the collie-woman observed him. The air itself thrummed with the energy of not moving, of staying perfectly still.
The dust settled. "Gabriel." His name sounded funny in her lilting voice, tasted strange on her tongue. Jade optics narrowed, an illusionist feat considering their strange hue. Gabriel. The nymph rolled it on her tongue, testing for familiarity, her mind strangely conjuring thoughts of water closing over her head. The sinews along her bones tightened, slivers of steel, that peculiar name resounding heavier and heavier, until she could see the ocean sky growing dim as water separated her from it, the weight of something - a necklace - bearing down around her slender neck.
Absently, one ivory hand rose to encircle her throat, as if testing the silken arch there for the heavy weight of a metal noose.
She remained poised atop the concrete pylon a moment more, suspended there like some cream and ivory siren, before dropping down to the earth to land lightly on the balls of her footpaws. Her eyes never left him, and when she straightened, the man was clearly taller. As she'd known he would be, Gabriel was twice as formidable when one was level with him. The dagger danced lithely between her ivory fingers, still held as a harmless thing at her side.
"I knew you once." The words surprised her, but they felt true, hanging between them in the thick twilight air. She took a step closer, emerald eyes running up and down the man's dangerous frame. "You, he, was different then... Perhaps I am wrong." Doubt pervaded Alaine's broken memory. This man was a killer - She could tell. She could smell the death that surrounded him. A frown marred the woman's foreign, pixie figures, casting shadows over the jade eyes that sought his own; This man was danger, but she got the deep and settling sense that he would not harm her. The hesitant wind teased auburn ringlets to dance about her face, and the healer tucked them behind one floppy ear.
A pause, and then: "You have his eyes, the boychild... I think I knew you, once."
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I am so sorry for the delay :[
Sound was the single strongest trigger within Gabriel’s memories. He did not recall images, or names, or sometimes even faces, but he recognized tone and vibration. Often he connected sounds with images. Many of these were terrible things. Still others were better. Her voice was one of them. Though he could not remember why it made him think of it, he recalled the smell of the ocean.
His amber eyes followed her body, lithe and graceful, but still he remained motionless. Even now he recognized the danger in her body—the way her muscles were poised to strike. Despite the raptor-intensity in his eyes, the dark-faced man carried no violence in his body. He had made a vow never to kill women. He would not break this. He did not wish to.
Then the words pulled at those memory strings, and they tugged, nay, ripped open a place he had long ago closed off. “We found treasure,” he said quietly, his eyes going hazy with time. “You were a princess.” And once, he had been a prince.
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ooc: not a problem! hope your load eases up sometime soon :3
wc: 300+
His voice shivered over her skin. The woman watched him with owlish emerald eyes, pupils dilated in concentration amongst the glorious foliage pigment of her iris. Tense, wary, unsure. A broken thing - An abused thing. His own eyes were of puritition amber, glowing coals in the growing darkness. Cool night air swept her clean, tossing between them like ghosts. Like memories.
She watched as his eyes lost focus, saw a different time, and felt her own perception dragged with it to the bleak memory of two children on the brink of a vast ocean. The soft lapping of waves. The tentative thrill of excitement, fresh-born friendship blooming like a desert rose there on the pirate sands. Slender ivory fingers fell still about the blade, her posture straightening, tense muscles easing to fluid surprise and limpness.
"You are he. Omra súile... Princeling."
Husky accented whisper hung in the cool air, filled with surprise. The foreign beauty held still, watching the handsome stranger a moment more in a mixture of disbelief and sudden, shocking awareness. How time had changed him... How time had changed them both. She took a hesitant step closer, peering at him now with an inquisitive air, the beginnings of a confused smile sweetening her pixie features. Then, struck by a sudden thought, she turned to rummage through the leather satchel at her curved hip, dagger and all sense of danger momentarily forgotten as her fingers sought out the secret pouch sewn delicately into it's side. Therein, the cool sensation of rare minerals slide against her fingers, and she withdrew the treasure from its depths and held it out for observation between them.
The necklace glittered, spilling over the palm of her hand like liquid gold. Emeralds of varying sizes caught the dying light of the sun and refracted pinpoints of jade on her cream and ivory pelt, sparkling like the internal light of her eyes as the lithe dancer lifted her gaze from the enthralling object to observe his reaction. She had kept it, all these years, tucked away from sight and mainly out of mind - Not even her son knew of it's existence. And, over time, she had forgotten it's origin, until the jewelery served only as a reminder of the princess she'd once been, the life she'd once had. But it had never lost it's brilliant luster, although her beauty had.
"I kept it." The words sounded strangely vulnerable. Did he know how important this artifact was to her? Emerald eyes kept close vigilance.
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I suck pretty bad.
Even though he could remember her, he could not recall most of what had occurred. Treasure, yes, and water and a voice that sounded like thunder. His memories had been slipping for a long time now, even though he would not admit such a thing. He could not recall much before the first fire. Some, but not all. Gabriel knew little in the ways of psychology and could not reason he had blocked out everything that was, to him, worthless. He was dehumanizing. Places of light and of love were worthless to him now.
He wondered, briefly, if he could have loved her once. She was beautiful. It was a selfish thought which he dismissed. There was no room for love in his world. There was only room for blood. Even as she brought out her secret, even as gold and glittering jewels spread among her hand, he thought of that night. Of her scream. Of how Haku’s blood had tasted in his mouth.
There was no more room for love in him.
Yet his eyes brightened, and his face smiled fondly as if he too remembered only the sunlight. “Where did you run off too?” He asked quietly.
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<3
wc: 300+
If he recalled the object, it appeared to have no instantaneous significance except, perhaps, as proof of the link that had once bound them together. For some reason, Alaine felt relieved - She'd have been disappointed to think he may have wanted the necklace back. It glittered in her palm, greedily sucking up the last vestiges of sunlight, the burnished gold warm and alive against her skin. She gazed at it a moment, before slipping the stolen thing back away amongst the folds of her leather satchel.
There was an eery brightness to the man's eyes, almost feverish. She recognized, with a prickling of uncertainty, that those illuminated amber eyes had rested upon her. Pondering something she couldn't surmise. Mystified by the dangerous secrets locked behind that gaze, Alaine held her peace until he spoke.
The lithe foreigner considered Gabriel's question a moment, her emerald eyes grazing his features, uplifted in a mask of fond revere. She wondered if he knew the warping of his own mind, that which she could detect merely by his gaze, his air of other-worldliness. Unconsciously, she was attracted to him - Physically, her body was warm where it faced his, for he was handsome and build strong. Wise, perhaps, by the years she perceived in his countenance. But the Apothecary's heart sensed a different unbalance in the Inferni Dictator's entity - Something dark, something that scathed beneath his plastic smile like shadows moving predatorily in deep water.
She wondered, anon, what had happened to the princeling. Perhaps the world had been as cruel to him as it had to her.
"Away." Emerald gaze lingered on him, drawn by the dark hair that swirled about his features. Shadows clung to him obediently, as if he were some sort of twilight liege - She, by comparison, was dyed soft gold and tranquil mauve by the sunset. "Far from there... Far from here." And run she had, from the demons that had chased her, and somehow found her again in the form of the cobalt-eyed Beelzebub. And had it not been for he, perhaps she'd no longer walk the lands of Nova Scotia, a memory born only by the minds of those she'd briefly touched.
Shallow pools of jade alighted on the bag at his shoulder. She could smell the death therein, and sought not to know the contents, but merely to show she was aware of them. He had become a killer, no doubt a mercenary. She had become a concubine to poor fate, and another broken heart to mingle with the masses. Perhaps there was something linking them, still. "What of you, Gabriel?"
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He sensed sorrow, and he sensed the same darkness she felt in him, and he knew that God was as cruel to those who did not know Him as to those who did. Strangers suffered. She was a friend to him once, but a stranger now, even though they were bound by that silly little thing. Gabriel might have spoken to her about devils and demons and found she knew them well. It would not surprise him. The world was vast, and the creatures in it equally as terrible. Nothing supernatural had to exist in order for evil to be done. Gabriel believed in sin, but he believed the sinners responsible—not the Devil, not anything of that nature. People alone were evil. That he knew as truth.
His name fell from her lips and sounded like a spell. It sounded righteous, as it was supposed to be. He took heart in this, and closed his eyes as he smiled sadly. “I’ve been running since I was a child. Ran all the way to the other side of the world and back just to fight monsters.” A pause. His eyes opened, raptor-like in their intensity. “He’s dead.” She deserved to know if she did not. The beast had almost claimed her, as he had claimed so many others.
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wrap this up soon? we can have another one if you're feeling up for it, post-miscarriage for alaine. she might be a bit mentally unstable :I
wc: 300+
The paladin seemed to draw strength from his calling. Alaine watched, intrigued by each phantom expression that dared show itself in the concrete angles of his serious face, wondering how long he'd been wearing the mask that hid mortality such that it blended, seamless, with his own face. Gabriel had become handsome since his gangly youth, but more than that - He had become more of a wolf. Her mind recalled the boy's awkward coyote frame from memory. So much had changed in him.
The sad smile, however brief, made her think of the boy he'd been. Her own maw twisted wryly.
His words did not surprise her. Alaine could see it in his eyes, now opened, their depths simmering with the ferocity of obsession. Of course he had run his whole life. In a way, so had she, but she'd been running away. He'd been hunting for something. She wondered if, in the end, he'd managed to catch whatever it was, but by the drawn look of his lancing gaze, assumed not. These monsters he spoke of would always exist, regardless of their destruction at his hands. In her case, they were monsters of the heart - Things that could not be vanquished, but could be conquered, gradually and with time for healing.
His next words froze her stiff. Emerald eyes balked in the glare of his fierce amber ones. He's dead. Her gaze tore from his own to linger on the duffel bag, pupils dilated as a painful montage of brief, heart-stopping moments ripped through her mind. Running. Blood matting her hair, pooling in her scratched-up palms. The stench of rotten breath warming the back of her neck. The blue, blue abyss of Beelzebub's flat eyes as they reached into her brain, paralyzing her body with fear...
Without conscious thought, her hand had begun to finger the throwing dagger again. Tentatively. He's dead. Unaware to stop the small shiver from rippling down her smooth spine, the lithe female allowed her gaze to draw away from the bag, staring momentarily at the echoes of the sun that had finally sunk below the horizon. Gabriel had killed the monster, Alaine was certain. She wondered briefly if he had enjoyed it, picture the man's sharp gaze filled with the fires of primordial and carnal pleasure as he took the demon's mortal life. The mental image unsettled her greatly, and she unwittingly took a step back and away from him.
"It's late." The healer's musical voice sounded strong, a lot stronger than she felt. Lit now by wane moonlight, the dagger in her hand glinted like ice. "Is somebody waiting for you?" He probably was part of a pack by now, as was she. Perhaps he even had a mate and children awaiting him in a home somewhere. Emerald eyes slid uneasily past the shadowed male, refusing to meet his own gaze. "I have tarried here too long..."
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Once my current threads slow down, yes!  Finish with your post?
The reaction did not go unnoticed. He caught her fear-scent, saw her hand move, saw that she knew now he was not the noble prince he had once been. Time had changed both of them, himself for the worse. Gabriel’s eyes remained sharp as he watched her, the moonlight burning against his back, wolfish in his own right. Her voice moved him and he wished to hear her speak more, but she would not look him in the eye. Whatever they had—whatever they might have had again—was lost.
Gabriel shut his eyes and exhaled into the dark. “No, but there’s something I must do.” He did not know his sister was gone. He would find this out when he reached the borders of the dog-pack and found her scent gone, just as he would find that the woman he spoke to now lived there. His eyes opened, capturing her profile in their sight and holding onto it as if he would not know the form again. “Will you be all right?” Gabriel asked quietly, though the dagger told him the answer well enough.
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awesome. stick this in the archives once you've read it? and let me know when you're up for that thread <3
wc: 300+
Alaine could tell that he noted her inability to retain eye contact, knew that he would recognize the lithe woman's suddenly stiff body language as an emotional withdrawal from him. Strangely enough, she cared enough to peer across at him fleetingly, seeking some sort of understanding in his brilliant amber gaze. But Gabriel appeared impassive. Her heart sank slightly.
His words settled heavily in the pit of her stomach. The death-smell curled about her coral nose, unfavorably tainting the cool westerly breeze. The healer-woman didn't inquire the matter - An unspoken acceptance of privacy seemed to draw between the two half-strangers; His business was his own, and she'd not endanger herself by seeking to find it out.
"So be it." Alaine's voice, rather than being blunt, seemed regretful. Perhaps disappointed that this meeting between them was so fleeting - Perhaps aware that here was danger and potency, wrapped up in the figure of a man, and that she was going to leave him without a backward glance. Emerald eyes dipped in the sharp moonlight and glittered like the blade of her dagger. Perhaps she would never see him again.
The two stared at each other in silence a moment, her mind sketching his features and branding them into memory. He spoke quietly and she remained still for a moment longer, jade eyes filled with a strange light. "Perhaps, in time. As I hope you will be." The cryptic answer brought a quick smile to her maw, for she knew that had not been his intended question. The smile was genuine, momentarily lighting up her pixie face so that, for the briefest of moments, the years melted away to reveal the beauty she'd once been when she'd run with him along stolen beaches.
"Goodbye, princeling."
And then the woman was gone, a silent shadow that melted back into the darkness, the only thing to note her previous presence being some dainty paw-prints in the dust.
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