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table © Alaine
ooc: I'll NPC Alaine in this thread, probably, or I'll post in her account after you :3 I'm assuming that the hotel is empty but for the three of them XD
BACKDATED to Nov 15
There was a scent on the breeze, a scent that carried through his fur and simmered in his bones as the young man gazed across at the old hotel. The building's gaping eye-holes fluttered with ratty materials, stained tears dripping down its peeling skin in depressing mascara streaks. The youth eyed it speculatively, felt the growing storm brew between his ribcage. This place had been home to him once, but now he returned to its crumbling embrace as an outcast, a vagabond. A stranger. The wind ran cool fingers through his ever-tousled bangs, sweeping them momentarily clear of cold sky-blue eyes. The time had come.
Four paws had become useless, so he shifted, felt the integral snapping and reconnecting of bones, the transition having become smooth from constant use. The checkered scarf, previously tight, was now loose about his humanoid throat. Fingers, each tipped with a wickedly curved claw, flexed pensively as he started down the slope towards the metal gate.
It screamed on its hinges as he pushed it open, the sound renting hollow silence and spilling the caws of uneasy crows, disturbed by his large presence, up into the heavens. The scents of those who had passed through here assailed him instantly, the dwellers of the Chien Hotel staking claim to what was theirs, and inevitably, no longer his. Perhaps, if he'd spent more time considering the vague smells, the young male might have noticed one unexpected - One that would change this meeting indefinitely. She had been here. In the back of his instinctual mind, a dull red alarm went off, but the wolfdog filed it away as impending pain. He sought only his mother in this place - His mother, and answers.
Caillen had to stoop to walk in through the doorway, for his immense size filled up the frame, casting a long and jagged shadow down the hallway. With stone in his heart, the manchild mounted the stairs, his large footpaws surprisingly silent on the old and rotting wood. The hotel groaned around him, settling its concrete roots deeper and deeper into the sucking ground. He came upon her door, and pushed it open; Alaine sat by her bed, tinkering with some flowers she had probably recently picked for some sort of herbal brew. There was a moment of complete silence as her emerald eyes swung towards the doorway. "Syl- Oh. Oh, god." A moment of confusion battered at his mind, but Caillen's cool blue gaze remained clear as he gazed down at his birth-mother. A boiling rage, deep and potent, simmered in those pools. "Caillen? Och i gcuntas Dé! My boy, my son-". She was walking towards him, and the male's nape was bristling - He could see it in his minds eye, that man's hands sliding over her, the sickly tormented images ripping through him as her fingers stretched out to rest on his arm-
"NO!"
The snarl ripped through him, and Alaine faltered, and he could see the illness in her eyes. She was sick. Mentally, physically, there was hardly a difference anymore. The rage was shivering through his very veins, and his fisted hands shook. "I know it, máthair. I know everything." And there was such disgust in his voice that a chocked sob swelled in his mother's fair throat, her hands lifted in shock to her slender maw, the flowers forgotten as they fell to the floor. Caillen took a step forward, his presence filling the room, his anger swelling to crackle in the oxygen around them. Alaine seemed to shrink back against the wall. "You... You let him touch you... You have betrayed me!" The fury spoke with a sharp tongue as his tone whiplashed the air, and the slate giant's fist splintered the wooden door-frame in his grasp. He took a deep, shuddering breath, as Alaine began to silently cry. For some reason, her tears served only to infuriate him more. The boy suddenly felt an overwhelming pain engulf his heart, a deep sadness as he looked upon her, fueled by that horrible anger. "WHY?! Why have you DONE THIS?!"
Speak think walk
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table © Alaine
ooc: Okies lovely. :3
WC: 700+
A creak, a groan, a door opening and then pausing as if suspended in time, deteriorating wooden facade its best show for the living. Slender, beautiful, a caramel and ivory statue planted into the hardened wooden floors, claws clicking lightly in betrayal of their owner. Sylvie had been only a few doors down from Alaine's quarter, investigating the emptied haunts of the old hotel-living canines, the lilac princess' hope for locating something useful high. Alas, she was unable to complete her simple quest, her easy search for methods of reviving Alaine's mental state unto it's most functional. The scent of him drifted into the torn old windows, assailing the cracks in the frame with a vigor unusual for the soft-spoken dreamer. His light, airy scent was mingling with musk, decorated with hints of iron blood and pained flesh.
The nightmare had engulfed her once cobalt knight, enveloping him in shades of black and blue, bruises newly formed upon tendered flesh and soft soul. With each new herald to the arrival of the now massive wolfdog, Sylvie found herself wishing him away in favor of simple solace. Wishing the exuding anger she felt to be spirited off to a place calm and collected, light and relaxed, until the demonic nightmare within those blue skies was lost once more to an innocent dream.
The gate protested harsh treatment, the Hotel's creaking floors cried out in a chorus of angelic pain, the stairs she had once so enjoyed playing on bent to the weight above them. Sylvie had put down her occupation, a toy from their childhood, warn and unused for so long, and now stood at the threshold behind the tall, handsome colliebeast, violet orbs trained on the markings dashed across powerful back, the agitation made obvious by ever twitching tail and clenching fists. Sylvie heard Alaine's words, beginning with the start of the moonspun young lady's name, and ending with surprise and relief, slipping into a tongue she knew not. A will to touch the boy perhaps overtook the elder collie woman, to ensure he was real. Caillen responded in kind, snarling out his angry reprieve.
Sylvie stood stunned at the scene before her, rooted to the rotting wood and stone building while he, he dared to confront his mother with all the anger he could muster, talking about knowing everything. Sylvie's bright, fiery eyes narrowed. This could not be true, or he wouldn't be here tearing into his mother, but consoling her, attempting to soothe the pains the lilac colliedog had so painstakingly worked to dull over the past few days. He was a pained child, temper grasping the sanity of his mind and twisting it into a dark tantrum, a yearning for explanation not ready to be given. His was a hurt body, sickened with rage unfounded. Sylvie did her best to intervene... calmly.
"Caillen." Came a stern, simple hook, lilting tone dashed with that familiar french accent grasping at the attention of the angry brute. "For what reason do you have to make such a racket? Betrayal, you called it? Your mother has done nothing of the sort." Sylvie sympathized with Alaine. As it were, the raging bull that was Caillen was spouting about Alaine having found someone she cared for, at least enough to enjoy his company on a chilled eve. He was tearing his mother down for something that no creature could live suitably without- love. Companionship. That wondrous thing that kept bringing the gypsy child back from her traveling bands, back from the warm summer eves alone, watching the fireflies dance to a song she dreamed she once knew. "If you are on a witch hunt for a betrayer, start with me."
Gliding into the doorway came Sylvie, slender form dappled with natural curves, lilac fur a mottled chocolate fit to entice any man without difficulty. But oh, did her words ring true. She was the original betrayer, the satanic incarnate that so continuously tore their little family apart. Her worry about falling for her adopted brother, her fear at being left behind herself had propelled her forward into the world, and left him behind instead. Wanderlust had taken her in it's stead, but now, finally, the itch in her paws had completed stopped, and she was ready to confront the massive slateblue merle. Ready to take whatever he could throw at her, and do the job he had failed to do himself both innocently and without any regard.
Protect her mother.
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table © Alaine
ooc: <3 WOO
His words hung, impregnating the air with their venom, and Alaine was staring at him with such shame in her eyes that neither of them could speak, and then-
She was there.
Sylvie had come.
He turned slowly. That soft voice, that logical voice, that feminine french voice, flowed over his flattened ears, sweeping through his body like the cold bite of steel between muscular shoulder-blades. Cold blue eyes, sharp with the bite of winter chill, finally met sparks of fiery violet, interlocking with a mesh that was familiar and yet so painful to him. She had come back, and there she stood - Stood like she belonged here, here with his mother where he should have been.
Behind him, Alaine shook her head, her tear-filled emerald eyes filled with warning for her foster-daughter. This would prove to be too much for her son, she could feel it. And most hated of all, his were becoming the eyes of his father. The mother sensed her own presence becoming as that of a fly on the wall; Caillen would get no argument from her, and he knew that well, for just one look at her damaged mind. Sylvie, however, would prove a much better partner in this dance of pain and fate.
His eyes caressed her, quickly. She was the haunter of his dreams, and he knew her well. Knew her even as he loathed her, and loved her, cursed and craved her. Blue eyes were hungry and hateful. He knew her well. "Sylvie." The word was spoken as though he named a murderer, a fiend or assassin. Something to be held at an arms length. Caillen wanted to pull her to him, shake her senseless, kiss her and hurt her. His body trembled with emotion, but those wintry optical portals were painfully clear. "Was it you who did this? Who corrupted her?" His accented tone was harsh and gravelly, a man's voice now. One hand gestured roughly to Alaine, who cringed, flattening her miserable form against the wall. Caillen's eyes did not leave Sylvie's. "Was it YOU who had her SHAME herself this way? NO. You know NOTHING of this. This is FAMILY business, not business of yours." Alaine gasped in horror at his hateful words, and perhaps Sylvie's treatments had been working, for she rose now to take a step towards her son. "Caillen! You do not mean this thing you say! Sylvie-" Her voice was hushed and horrified. For the first time since Sylvie's entrance, the youth's eyes returned swiftly to his mother, a snarl ripping apart his maw with sharp ivory teeth bared. "DO NOT TELL ME WHAT I MEAN, MATHAIR! YOU HAVE NO VOICE HERE, FOR WHAT YOU HAVE DONE." With a moan of pain, Alaine's face became dark with shame again.
Speak think walk
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table © Alaine
ooc: Ooooh, omnom. <3
WC: 900+
His slow turn, his flattened ears, his frozen eyes of a once beautiful sky now marred with clouds threatening to rock the conscious world with an emotional storm, a hurricane of anger and confusion, lust and love, familiarity and dissent. He stood as if she had shot him in the back, vying for his death in favor of his dam's mental stability. Though Alaine was not her blood mother, Sylvie believed her now to be as close to a mother as she ever had and ever would have. The only person to welcome her back into their life with open arms, compassion unexpected considering the state in which Sylvie had found her, Alaine fast proved to be the mother she never had. For who else would forgive transgressions as quickly as the one she now called her mother? Movement from Alaine momentarily gained a glance from the lilac lady.
Sylvie took note of Alaine's reaction to her arrival, feather-duster lashes hiding violet gems for but a moment too long to be a normal blink, her warning well heeded. Sylvie would tread carefully in this dance of danger, this concert of emotional spray, threatening to spill over at any moment. Sylvie had been born, however, in a world where even the slightest ill movement could bring death, a mere pawn to spectral villians bound to the earth by little more than a happy will to live without children, but with servants. Drawing on how she used to handle her... first family, she took up the role of a logical scholar, faithfully listening to Caillen's words. His choice of speech spoke volumes beyond the original meanings of the phrases themselves, deeming her mother corrupted, shamed, as if her attempts at garnering the love of another in a way not unlike how Sylvie and Caillen had once been was the bane of her existence. Like a pimp correcting his merchandise. Violet eyes narrowed at him, hands planted firmly on the curve of each hip, frowning in a manner unfitting a young, yearling lady of her beauty.
Sylvie huffed a moment, just a moment, at Caillen's rage-filled reactions, his stinging words about family business merely taking the form they deserved. Sticks and stones would break her bones, but words would never hurt her. Not anymore. "If you ask me, Caillen... you are the one who doesn't belong in this business." His hotheaded reactions were not at all what Alaine needed right now, as fragile a mindset as she was in. One would have thought a raging bull such as Caillen, claiming that he knew everything... knew everything. "Shame. What is shameful about her situation? If you know everything as you so claim... you would know that Alaine and Daisuke have a great relationship. You would know that they consensually joined together, with no regret..." Ivory and lilac arms crossed over silky white chest, pert breasts pressed beneath the gesture as gently curved hips slanted to one side.
"They met as dear friends and left as more. But... do you know this? Your mother fell pregnant... and miscarried." Sympathy shot through amethyst facets as her gaze shifted to Alaine a moment, apologies abound before vanishing again into the flaming orchid stones, the anger evident in her eyes, and yet not on her tongue. "And now here you are, snapping at her as if no one could have your mother but yourself. A selfish, bratty reaction, cursing your mother for finding someone she enjoys and then bearing your siblings dead." She said icily, caramel and creme plume twitching agitatedly. She knew what she was getting herself into. The look in his eyes... it reminded her of that terrible night... the night her innocence vanished with the warm summer breeze, stolen with no remorse, no consensual feelings.
"It is you who should be ashamed, Caillen." She stared at the once joyous young man, seeing, for a moment, the whelp he once was, with too-large paws and over-sized ears, stuttering persistently over everything except story telling. Her love, her light, the adorable babe she so adored as she grew, so cried for in every instance of pain, yearning for his comfort, his protection. That sweet dreamer was lost, blind to the truth in favor of a terrible spin on his once noble quest to protect the women in his life... when they didn't need protection. And then, when they did, he was unable to be there. This time he wasn't needed, wasn't required to protect his mother from anyone. "After all... it's not like she had anyone here." She narrowed her eyes at him again, this a stab directed at him, though she shared the same stab. Both of them had left their mother all alone to wallow in the dark depths of her mind, searching for sunshine. Daisuke and his golden fur fit the profile well. He was a nice wolf, she had heard, and Alaine had met him previously, enjoying his company long before Caillen had ever left her along. Alaine spoke highly of the golden brute, and Sylvie respected her opinion. And so, once again, Caillen was the tall, handsome brute he was now, his eyes flashing wild and tongue cutting flesh as if tipped with a blade.
"And now... I must ask you to leave." If he wouldn't go peaceably, she would find methods to make him leave. With how he glared at her, his own eyes sick with mixed personas, she might be able to exchange herself for Alaine, and lead the boy out of the hotel... for a time. "You can come back once you have regained your sense." She said sternly, motherly... almost a spitting image of Alaine, barring her obviously differently colored pelt and contrasting eyes. And now, she would see how he would react.
Speak think walk
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table © Alaine
ooc: 900+ words?! YOU GO GLEN COCO
(Powerplay approved by Sylvie)
He could hear her sharp intake of breath, and desperately hoped it to be one of hurt; but upon falling bitter sky-blue gaze on to her countenance, Caillen found it only to be Sylvie's stiffening of her resolve, her preparing for verbal battle. His hide prickled with suppressed anger, that this heathen, this wench, this traitor dared stand between him and his mother. HIS mother. And yet there it was, magnifying the pain - The thorn that had been embedded in his heart since the pup first laid eyes upon this beautiful damsel. The sharp tugs of puppet string on his stony blood-pumping organ, and she the puppeteer behind it all!
And she dared tell him that is was not HIS BUSINESS?
Perhaps it was delayed shock at her appearance, or at her resilience to his ferocious and unexpected anger - Perhaps it was surprise that she dared continue to speak. Whatever the reason, Caillen was deadly silent as the collie-girl, now a young woman, reprimanded him. Her tongue slashed grievous wounds in the mental armor he had taken so long to prepare, but this was a bane for them both, for now the rage flowed freely through him, coursing like the waters at high tide. She spoke of Alaine and Daisuke, and the youth's mind became a black hole of disgusting erotic images, twisting grotesquely through his conscious until he craved to claw his eyes from their sockets, his fists trembling, his entire frame shivering with the need to rid itself of such horrible and carnal thought...
Sylvie crossed her arms, and dropped a bombshell.
Caillen's world momentarily exploded. Pregnant. Alaine had been pregnant? Miscarried? A dry breath rattled in his chest - Sylvie continued to speak, something about him being a brat, but he had stopped listening. He turned, slowly, to look at his mother; Seeking, desperately, her denial, her disproof of this thing that his foster-sister had declared so rationally. Emerald eyes, wide and hollow, gazed back at him, and he saw it - Her nights curled in horrible pain, the knowing of her shame so livid and constant that it had stripped her insides clean of feeling, the knowledge like an acidic paint peeler. Many nights she had waited for Caillen to come home, for Sylvie to come home, but she had found only loneliness and despair. Miscarried. There was a dull roaring in his head, and it took Caillen a long moment to realize that the sound was actually coming from him.
"-ARGH! ENOUGH!"
But Sylvie had not had enough, and she finished her stand with dagger-words, throwing them with perfect aim like a hatchet to his chest. "After all... it's not like she had anyone here." For a moment, he saw red - Deep red, clouding vision. The damsel continued to speak, but the male was no longer listening. He moved lightning-quick; One second, standing between the two women, central to the room, the next with both hands placed on the wall either side to Sylvie's head, his larger frame forcing her against it, his lightning-blue eyes and glistening white fangs only inches from her own fate. Behind him, Alaine had sprung to action; She hovered behind him, grabbing at his arms, trying to pull him away from her, but Caillen was stone. His eyes gazed directly down into hers, filled with a horrible pain that spoke of months of searching, months of feeling as though something had been torn from his chest.
"And what would you know," His gravelly voice vibrated between them, hot breath spilling into her face, "About sense, huh Sylvie?" Those wild eyes stared down at her, and for a moment they were filled with desperation, a horrible desperation, "What would you know about shame? About being there?!" The words were hissed between huge incisors. Alaine's claws dug unexpectedly into a muscle in his arm, and with a snarl of pain, Caillen jerked away from Sylvie. The movement flung Alaine off of him, and she stumbled onto the floor, face streaked with tears. "Stop this! Stop this madness!".
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table © Alaine
ooc: xDD I just found a lot of muse there, is all.
WC: 800+
He roared in protest, but Sylvie would not have it. It was rude to interrupt someone while they were speaking, after all. And finally, moments after her request was completed, the male was upon her, forcing the ivory and caramel damsel against the wall as both of his heavy paws smacked against the wood on either side of her head. Ivory daggers were so close to claiming purchase in her face, hot, ragged breath sending goosebumps up and down silky furred body. And yet... Sylvie didn't even flinch. She stared back at the much stronger fellow, defiance roaring within orchid petal eyes as a forest fire claimed the light shade of those gentle orbs. Caillen was embodying her once terrifying dreams of a russet-hued beast determined to kill her, doing whatever he might to try and scare the maiden into a conformist's stupor. She refused to give in, even as his words brought white incisors closer and closer to her maw.
"I know I have more sense than you do right now." She said icily, returning his hot breath with her own, chocolate nose twitching in slight annoyance. Caillen really needed a mint. "And as for shame... for being there..." She said slowly, deliberately. "You know not what kind of shame I felt to be tossed away by my own mother." He knew of her story, he knew better. She had always been envious of him for the fact that Alaine would never rid herself of her boy... despite he being as much a bastard child as she. "I've been here for nearly a week now. So the better question is... what do you know about being there?" Alaine's claws interrupted their words, causing the raging brute to whirl away from his once dearest friend, sending his mother sprawling onto the ground with a cry.
Sylvie moved to assist Alaine, crossed arms falling in favor of reaching for her mentally unstable guardian. Stooping into a squat, silky plume dragged upon the snarled wooden floor as lilac damsel hoisted her foster mother back up. "Are you alright, Alaine?" She said quietly, patting the cream and ivory female's arm, both of her flopped ears trained on any movement from Caillen. She hoped the poor woman was, considering what she was going through right then- both mentally and physically. Her demons were back to haunt her in the form of her once angelic children as they stayed nearly claw to throat with one another. For a moment, Sylvie considered her foster-mother's condition before turning to Caillen, now between his powerful bulk and Alaine's frail form.
What was she doing, staring death so defiantly in the face? What was he doing, thinking such terrible thoughts in regards to what made life worth living? What were they doing, fighting over something so completely lost in translation? What... what were they even fighting about? It began with something as simple as Caillen's belief in Alaine shaming herself by finding someone to fill the void in her life the pair of them had so caused. And then it escalated into a pissing match. Who was the better child, Sylvie, the foster-daughter who so fervently desired to traverse the world and leave her loved ones in her absence, worrying constantly about her safety? Or Caillen, the slayed dreamer that once brought so much happiness into the lives of the two females, but now only brought fear and worry?
Was she still the stricken princess she was then, constantly in distress when faced with even something so simple as a hug? Was he still the bubbling dreamer, afflicted with an adorable stutter and a sweet, sheltered disposition? They had seen so much more of the world since their departure from one another, and ultimately, from Alaine. What did Alaine think of all this, cowering in her grief-stricken world of dark sunshine and broken hearts? Sylvie's resolve hardened, but her thusfar frozen heart, the bruised flesh ever-beating within her, pumping her life with each second seemed to shatter, dispersing into a million pieces, leaving only a single, painful shard in the core of her battle-stance'd form. No more would she stand idly by.
The princess was no longer accepting her fate as a damsel in distress, one of two weaker persons cornered by a stronger opponent. Like the stories Caillen once spun for her enjoyment, the soft, moon-spun young lady took up the role of the valiant prince, determined to do whatever she could to protect her cream and ivory damsel from the viscous beast. In hand to hand combat, she would surely lose... but if she could kite the slower hybrid... she stood a much, much higher chance of chasing him out. "I'll ask you one more time. Please leave." She said sternly, eyes burning violently. Though she lacked a weapon, or even the upper hand, Sylvie would protect Alaine at all costs... Caillen had not only failed his quest... he had become the very thing he once sought to protect the pair of collie girls from.
He was the viscous beast.
Speak think walk
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table © Alaine
ooc: this shit is bananas, b-a-n-a-n-a-s
Her tone matched his in potency, though where his was an inferno, hers remained icy daggers. For the briefest of moments, it was just the two of them, pressed together against the cold hard timber of the Chien Hotel. Gazes locked, each spitting danger and emotion. He could feel her slender body, inches from his own; She was stiff, but he could hear her pulse, almost feel it as cold blue eyes speared through feisty violet. And then his mothers nails were biting into his flesh, and the world was spinning as he threw her off, as Sylvie slipped past to crouch beside her on the ground.
Caillen stood in the doorway, the snarl still frozen on his maw, tiny beads of blood oozing out of the five pinprick clawmarks on his arm. They were ignored. He was breathing heavily, body still trembling in an unstable way.
Alaine allowed herself to fold into her daughter's protective embrace, and she rose unsteadily from the ground where she had been shoved. She nodded mutely to her daughter's inquiry, emerald eyes frozen still on her son, wide and haunted. Caillen returned her gaze, and saw himself reflected in those depths, and saw, worst of all, that fear.
That old fear. That hated fear. He had seen it in his mother's gaze on very frequent occasions, and a strange chill settled in the marrow of his bones as he found himself the object of it's direction. That old fear. The fear that he had inherited from her, the fear that he had spent the majority of his life trying to defeat. It had taken so long, even so long after their arrival many moons ago at Cour des Miracles land, to chase the final remnants of that terror from Alaine's eyes, and now it was back - Destined to stay, indeterminately, lurking in the depths of her beautiful emerald eyes.
He felt as though he were being torn apart. She had betrayed him, and yet all of this, ALL OF THIS, was his fault. It was all his fault. The weight was crushing, asphyxiating. His entire mentality, his total psychological complexion, was being un-stitched at the seams. Caillen didn't know who he was anymore - He was no longer the protector, that was clear. Blue gaze darted to Sylvie. She had replaced him here. There was a windstorm of rage and crushing guilt battering at his mind - The need to hurt something, preferably himself, the need to wreak revenge, the need to be a champion again. Who was he now? He'd lost his identity.
In the end, it was her words that made up his mutilated mind. He hated them. He hated them both. They had done this to him - Him, the prodigal son! Him, who had given his life to protect them! He had been nothing but giving, ready at every corner to throw his life down for them! And Sylvie, she knew that... It was HER who had done this. TRAITOR! He would have given everything for her. He'd loved her, with everything he had, and what had she done? Left him.
Left him.
Alone.
AGAIN.
With a feral growl, the likes of which would be more befitting a monster than the considerate Romeo this male had once been, Caillen rested his gaze on Sylvie's. His eyes were so intensely bright that they appeared fevered, leaping with frozen blue flames. "You broke me, Sylvie Ciel," They were the words that would hurt her most, and they were the pure truth - His voice was cracked with torment, one hand risen to point directly at her, trembling as it was in the air. "Know that you have done this tae me, cruálach bonnán..." He spat the words of his innermost heart, felt it tearing asunder. The finger dropped, and his gaze now landed on Alaine: "And you, striapach - I have ended this. The golden dragon will nae see you again, or I will kill him."
And with those parting words, the youth turned silently from the room, his world dancing in shattered mirrors about his feet. Alaine sagged in Sylvie's arms, and began to sob brokenly.
Speak think walk
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table © Alaine
ooc: Bananassssss~
WC: 900+
As Sylvie stood her ground, assuming the position once held by the cobalt knight before her, Caillen growled once more, his eyes burning in conjunction with her own. His words rang true, and Sylvie felt herself falter. "You broke me, Sylvie Ciel," Broke me... broke me... destroyed his beliefs and his reasoning in one fell swoop. Left him behind too many times. Took him for granted... she had always believed he would be there, no matter when she left, or when she returned... never truly appreciated him for what he was. He held her heart in his hands for as long as she had known him, though she hadn't seen him as much as she so wanted. In an effort to protect her dreamer from the nightmares of the world, she had sent him to experience them alone.
And she knew it.
The results of her actions would plague her for the rest of her life. And she knew it. But if there was one thing she also knew, it was that these transgressions were capable of being forgiven. And if there was one thing Sylvie always did... it was forgive. Forgive and forget was a phrase attached to the gypsy damsel for as long as she could remember. She had forgiven her parents, her assailant... and now, she needed to forgive herself... and hopefully garner Caillen's forgiveness in return. Life would not go on in a civil manner if neither things were accomplished, but sitting here, listening to Caillen's words... such a chance seemed far, far away.
For though Sylvie had no idea what on earth Caillen was saying, the tone in which it was said was an utter insult. An accent, naught noticeable until now, danced over his words, that childish stutter gone. Sylvie could not understand it. As Alaine collapsed into her arms, sobbing, Sylvie watched with muted eyes as her once beloved friend slipped out the door, vanishing into the darkening hall of the creaking Chien Hotel. Torn, Sylvie looked to Alaine, and then to the empty space where Caillen had been. She was the one being left behind, left to care for a broken woman while the one who so broke her walked away unscathed. Was this what it felt like, when she didn't come home to Caillen and Alaine once again? Her heart was already completely disintegrated, broken shards of a once frozen crystal, dull with lack of use... but she wasn't yet done. What was left of her soul cried out to do something.
And something she did do. Sweeping Alaine off her feet, Sylvie carried the light fairy woman to the bed she had been occupying the past few days, setting her down upon its soft, feathery form. Retrieving a blanket and pillow, the younger collie dog took a deep, heaving sigh, and spoke. "Alaine... please stay here. I will return shortly... there is... something I have to say to him before he leaves again." Giving the crying female a quick nuzzle under the chin fluff, Sylvie covered her up and headed for the doorway, pausing a moment to recollect herself before vanishing into the darkness. This time, this time she would indeed be coming back.
Racing down the staircase three at a time, the nimble sylph agilely dashed out the creaking doorway to the Chien Hotel and out onto the overgrown lawn, nose to the air in search of that familiar scent, that ever prevalent smell that clung to Caillen as the scent of the ocean so clung to Sylvie. Once more she took to her feet, claws digging into the frozen earth while tongue lolled in a pant. The adrenaline was truly kicking in now, and Sylvie found herself wheeling around tree trunks without so much as a glance in their directions. Left, right, left... there! A hulking form lumbered ahead of her, the scent a match for her quarry. "Caillen!" She called, still running to catch up to him.
Sylvie refused to just lie down and let him leave without a decent goodbye simply because he was pissed off. She needed a better reason than that. She needed to convince Caillen to return to his senses and not make threats about slaying Daisuke. She needed... she needed to see him as not the slate and ivory monster that had been terrorizing its own mother, but as himself. And though he was very, very angry, Sylvie hoped that, through it all, she could still see that inkling of his old self somewhere in those flaming amytal gems, that vibrant orange mop, that twitching frown. What had taken such a hold on her dreamer? Her pace slowed as she finally caught up to him, panting lightly as violet gems waxed in and out of a roaring flame. "I know this won't help, but..." she said, shaking her head. "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you when you needed me. I hope that, maybe, you can forgive me... and see that your mother being with Daisuke... it's not bad as you make it out to be." She sighed a little, frowning softly.
There wasn't much else for her to say, to do, or even to think, that could possibly change the brute's mind beyond that... and so the lilac and alabaster marked beauty bowed her head a moment and turned away, intending on returning to the Hotel to comfort Alaine and reassure her that she was still alive. "Take care of yourself... we'll miss you." She said finally, beginning her trek away, slowly at first, one hand raised in a gesture of goodbye, before her hand dropped and she started walking at a more normal pace, the tears welling up in her eyes left unchecked in the darkened evening light. It wasn't like Caillen would see them... well.
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table © Alaine
ooc: i am derp, hear me roar
Down the stairs. Through the hall. Out the door. Through the garden.
The open gate shrieked its banshee dismay as the lone figure, his stride long and desperate, emerged as a ghost from the old hotel and headed in a direct line for the forest. His mind was loud and cluttered, and the breath in his ribcage was short. All he knew was the desperate feeling of claustrophobia, and the need to be gone from this cursed place.
The traitorous trees offered him no solace. Their gnarled, jeering faces snarled down at the poor broken fool. With each step of distance that widened the gap between him and the wretched place, the boy's anger dissipated. He tried desperately to cling it to him, a cover for the swelling maw of pain that otherwise threatened. He felt invisible hands choking his throat, and saw behind shuttered eyelids two glowing emerald orbs filled with fear.
A strangled sound came loose from maw. It sounded small and weak. Caillen didn't know who he was anymore.
The moan didn't seem to come to an end. The slate youth blinked, and then realized that it was his name he could hear, in a voice that had haunted his dreams and nightmares for so long now. His pulse pounded in his ears, and he turned slowly, watching as Sylvie slowed her run and finally came to a stop facing him.
The trees around them whispered. A soft wind toyed with scrappy scarf, the same he had warn since he was a pup. It ran cool fingers through the feathery bangs of the young woman opposite him. She was beautiful, perfect. The hand of loathing tightened around his throat. She spoke between pants, and Caillen's sky-blue eyes kept pinned to her reluctant gaze. His words had clearly hit home, just as hers had. They had wounded each other with memories and infatuation. He remained silent until she had finished, that loud and infuriated voice buried deep down now, so much so that he wondered if he would ever be able to conjure it forth again. All he knew was a fear, a fear that he would never truly be able to explain to her. He feared himself.
He feared what he was fast becoming.
She bowed her head, and turned from him with parting grace. He could smell the salt of the tears she hid. The fever-pitch of voices in his head suddenly became very, very silent, and all he could hear was the pumping of his own blood, and the faint crunch of her feet breaking frosted ground.
Once again, he moved without being entirely sure of why - One second, he was watching her walk away from him, as he had done so many times in so many dreams, and the next, her fur was warm where he held it tightly in his fist, the bones of her arm feeling slender and fragile in his large hand. The connection was momentarily electric, and having tugged her around to face him, Caillen quickly dropped the elegant limb. His eyes looked up to the sky, then to her face, then to the side, the ground; Edgy. Pained. "Sylvie..." Rough voice broke slightly, and he shut his eyes tight, as if searching for whatever specks of inner peace he had left. Absent of its fury, his face looked drained, strangely exhausted.
"I didn't... You just... I... Can't..." His face formed a frustrated snarl. He couldn't look at her tear stained face - It would ruin him. "Take care of her." Came the gravelly but quiet words. Caillen couldn't speak her name, not yet, but they both knew of whom he was referring to. With a jerky movement, he pulled the worn checkered scarf from around his throat and threw it to the ground at her feet. He had worn it since the day Alaine had found it, and Sylvie's yellow bandana, in an old trunk in the Chien Hotel - It smelt strongly of him, a strangely warm smell of clean rain and pine trees. His neck felt exposed without it, but it was a part of his old identity, a part of him that he didn't feel he could reclaim. "I need tae go away for a while." To his ears, Caillen's voice sounded hollow, a false calm he didn't feel. "Take it, give it tae her if you will." Maybe he would come and reclaim it, once he'd sorted out the mess in his own head.
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table © Alaine
ooc: <3 End?
WC: 700+
It seemed that she was getting away.
Escaping the pain of her lost love while he looked on, silent. For a moment, she believed he had finally heard her. And then his large hand was tight around slender arm, stirring within Sylvie a cauldron of fear. Would she really be back to Alaine today? As he spun her, she consented, an electric feeling dashing up her body before he finally released her. He refused to look her in the eye, to see the drying tears streaking silky caramel and cream cheeks. Her tears were stopped, frozen in time as Caillen's actions betrayed his feelings. He had calmed down considerably... regained much of his sense. True to her word, she would have allowed him back into the Hotel at this point. His exhausted face slipped from expression to expression while Sylvie patiently awaited his verdict, stiff and cold in the chilling night air.
Sylvie watched vaguely as Caillen stumbled over his words, an indiscernible phrase mangled by the situation. She rubbed her eyes quickly, doing her best to clear her face of the salty water. A comprehensible phrase left him, regarding his mother, still waiting alone in the hotel for Sylvie's return. She nodded slowly, eyes closing a moment, violet gems lost beneath chocolate lashes. "Aye... I will." She said softly, wondering if this would be the time to leave him be... until something fluttered down upon ivory footpaw. Amethyst gems opened and looked down, surprised to see Caillen's scarf sitting upon her toes. As she bent down to retrieve it, Caillen spoke, explaining his need to leave for a little while. Sylvie sighed quietly, and wrapped the worn checkered scarf around her own neck, the long fraying piece of clothing obviously too large for her... but it held fast to Caillen's scent... at least something to remember him by. "Please... come back sooner or later..." She said softly, almost begging the larger male, toying with the trim on his scarf while staring at her feet.
She would miss him, despite that heated fight, miss him, despite having left him behind, miss him no matter what happened. Silky plume swished agitatedly while the previously snappy miss came down off her angry tangent, taking the time to breathe away from caring for Alaine as a moment to balance herself. "And watch out for the traveling caravans... they have a tendency for trouble..." She reflexively rubbed the back of her neck, fingers easily dividing silky fur to feel the long scars hidden by her thick ruff. In lupus or secui form, Sylvie would never be able to hide them, while in optime her mane grew long enough to cover the spots without hair. She didn't want Caillen to be subjected to the same thing she had been... though his sheer size would likely fend off any attacks. Her eyes slipped shut again as chocolate nose vanished for a moment within the thick scarf, memorizing any changes to his scent before she once again looked Caillen in the eye.
"Take it easy, Caillen..." She said quietly, gently, one slender ivory hand settling onto blue merle muscle, gently touching the now scabbed pricks from Alaine's claws, inciting a moment of tenderness for the broken-hearted female. How many times had her heart broken in light of him? Too many to count. It was a wonder the crystalline muscle continued to beat, continued to stay attached to a soul pulsing with as much pain as itself. A dull ache settled into Sylvie's chest as she retrieved her hand, eyes on the ground, fairy maw directed in the same direction, floppy ears low to her head. This would be goodbye once again, wouldn't it? It was always so much easier to leave without saying goodbye... without having to feel the breaking of her bruised and torn heart each and every time. She sighed quietly, glancing up at him again.
"I... I lo... I hope you find what you're looking for."
She smiled wanly, corners of her mouth quirking upward to form the slight, sheepish grin, before once more she would turn and start back to the Hotel. Alaine would likely be worrying herself sick, wondering if they had fought enough to harm each other on her behalf. She almost wished he would chase her again, but that would be asking too much too soon. Both of them were emotionally drained, dripping invisible wounds cut by the daggers of verbal abusers and vagabonds- only time could tell if he would return again.
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