set to self destruct

Theodore Stone · 01-22-2011, 07:10 AM

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ooc;; sorry darling, got here first! 21.01.11

His hard work had paid off. Naniko had knocked softly on his door the morning before, a small smile on her sexy face. Teddy had wondered if his charms had finally worked on the pale woman but he had been disappointed when she knocked him back again. He'd perched on his bed with a hurt expression on his face until Naniko had told him what she actually came for- he had been promoted to Marbas considering the fact that he was a ninja-skilled warrior. Teddy had chuckled softly before stretching out and inviting the pale lady to join him. She had fast gotten used to his naked offers and she gave him a filthy look before removing herself once more. Still, the young warrior could not help the grin that had remained on his face after she left- he rarely ever expressed happiness but he thought now would probably be the right time to do so.

The pack hunt had gone successfully and Teddy was pleased that Liev had turned up. Although he was never friendly to anyone in this pack but Naniko and Demi, he had found the mans company entertaining to say the least. He was pondering over this when he decided it was time to start searching for some throwing knives. While he was good with weapons such as swords and knives, his throwing abaility was pretty poor. He was an okay shot with a bow and arrow, but he recognised he needed to work on these aspects of his skills. But he didnt want to go out of Anathema today- he knew that there had been an increased interest in their lands although he wasn't entirely sure why. Still, his promotion had made him wary of leaving his pack- who knew Teddy could be such a worrysome hen?

The tight muscles of his neck were annoying him and he rolled his shoulders to try and alleviate the ache. He hadn't trained with his sword in days, but he had managed to find a good enough whetstone to keep it clean and sharp. Wrapped in a soft sheep-skin he had taken from one of the mountain sheep a little while ago it was safe and snug at the back of his den. He didn't want to disturb the swords stewing process so instead he picked up the long bowstaff he'd fashioned not long before he arrived at Anathema. It had made a good walking stick coming through the mountains, but it was still ultimately a weapon. He picked the large length of woord up in his hands, smiling as the smoothness reminded him of the hours he had spent rubbing sand over the piece to get it this texture.

Though his arsenel wasn't very large- to be precise a sword, three daggers, a bow, a bowstaff and a small hand axe- he kept good care of each one of them and tried to train alternately with each. His strongest weapon was his sword and the daggers were just easy to use. He was a little rusty with his bow and the bowstaff was still a strange weapon in his hands. The hand-axe was never really used as a weapon but he was still well adept at using it. With a final nod of his head he exited the den and made his swift way round to the long slope that lead to the forest. It would be easy to practise here, but he had no one to practise with. He thought of Liev but refused to ask the man for help. So instead, he headed into the trees to see if they were of any use to him.

word count;; 611

Viking Sigurdr · 01-22-2011, 04:58 PM

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745 words. And you're awesome for being so fast Big Grin .

It had only been a day or so, since the large shadow walked into a new life, a new band of wolves. Not all of them were warriors, much to the surprise of the one-eyed giant, but healers, explorers, craftsman, and other things the bone washed male just couldn't comprehend. It made no sense to him, as he huddled in a dark space in the den he claimed for his own, how a pack could do anything else but fight. Watching from the open space adjacent to him, as shadows moved past the lit entrance, Viking tried to silently piece his thoughts together. How was it that wolves were allowed to specialize in anything but knowing a blade like the back of your hand? Where one could focus on something else besides the strength in their body, the loyalty in their leaders,, and the willingness to take the fall for a brother?

If that wasn't enough to stump the giant, clad in ripped bearskin pants and axe in hand, he wondered why the queen hadn't called for him. His former female leader was at the throat of every one of her warriors before the sun touched ever the grass, and he sat there pressed against the dirt wall with confusion marring his scarred visage. Ears flicked atop thick braids with agitation, coming to a decision as the giant hefted himself off the ground, spearing the sharp point of the axe into the dirt to help himself up. Removing the blade from the ground, 'King took a couple thundering steps before picking up his dented helmet and putting the final armored piece atop his form. As silently as possible, he ducked under the entrance of his cave, dim light spilling over his off-white colored body.

Ruby eye took a moment to adjust to the light, which was still darker compared to the day above him. Torches that hung on the sides of the tunnel flickered, playing against the silent warrior's fur as he made his way towards the main room. 'King scanned the area, and his eye landed on the entrance where the white queen slept, but no one emerged from the opening. Form turned and thundered towards the small, winding tunnel that led towards the surface of the earth. Light spilled over him, and Viking closed his single eye when he emerged onto the snow covered earth. Clumps of dirt latched onto his fur, but it did not hinder the giant, who made heavy prints into the white powder under his feet as he climbed a steep slope. The warrior decided it was best if he trained not far from his new location, in case the queen called for him. And he'd be ready, too, no matter what the giant was doing. Whatever her wish was, it was 'King's command to execute, much to the words she spoke that indicated otherwise.

Bone hued fur became dappled under the shade of trees, as the cliff broke off into forest. 'King's breath huffed through his nostrils, which flared into the clear, cool day. Though whether it was thick snow or stinging rain that fell from the skies, a warrior's training was never put on hold. The warriors of his homeland always had to prove themselves under the watchful eyes of the gods, and weather was meant to test their durability. Strength was everything, not just physical but in the very soul of a fighter, and one needed both for battle. As the scarred shadow pressed through trees and brush, he contemplated who, among the several unshaped bodies of those who had other duties in An..Anathema, just who might be a suitable sparring partner. The giant had yet to meet anyone face to face, as he still wandered out and about like a lone wolf. Today was just another one of those days, as rough hands pushed past smooth foliage.

And suddenly, Viking was not alone in the forest that very day, weapon in hand with intentions to sculpt the body and the soul. A large shadow was amongst the clearing, still moving among the tall trees towards a destination. The figure walked with determination in its black steps, and 'King stepped forward with intense observation. The warrior didn't want to draw attention to himself, but kept himself well in view of the shadowy stranger. In the small clearing, the bone hued warrior grunted into the cold air, ruby eye trained on the other, watching for any response.

Theodore Stone · 01-23-2011, 02:41 PM

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ooc;; <333

The smooth wood beneath his hands was soothing to the young warrior. If there was ever anything in his life that didn't make sense to him, or something that was going wrong or spiralling out of control, his weapons were the ones he turned to. They were uninhibited by emotions and they never did anything unexpected. They never said they were going to do one thing and then do the other, or change their mind at the last moment and chicken out. His weapons did what he told them to do and they were the most reliable companion Theodore had ever known. Not even his own brother was this reliable. Certainly not his father and his mother was weak willed enough to become her mate's doormat. So he was pretty much on his own with this one. Blue eyes gazed at the bowstaff and for the first time in a very long time, his lips curved into a trusting smile.

Though winter had been difficult and the recent hunt had given the young warrior enough protein to bulk back up again, Teddy knew he stull had to maintain the muscled body. Not only for the vanity of having a nice body, but for the useful fitness it brought him and the fact that he would always be prepared to go into battle. Even if it was just him on his own. He had heard Tayui, the elder wolf he had met a while ago, had chosen the rank tier he belonged to and the decision had confused him. She was old, perhaps not old enough to retire but certainly no spring chicken either. Still, it was her decision, afterall.

Strong arms spun the staff quickly above his head before he swung it heavily at a tree. The resounding crack elicited a groan of pleasure from the man- a real mans man. The crack and whip of the weapon flying through the air in his capable hands and its subsequent contact with the unwitting tree that had volunteered to be his target had a soothing affect on the young man and soon he had zoned out of the noises of the trees. He didnt need to hear them- he was safe in Anatheman lands. He moved faster and faster, the loose fitting trousers clinging tight to his muscled thighs as the force of his body moving through the air pinned them against his body.

The snap of a twig was his ownly warning and he froze instantly. The bowstaff had pause in the air, the hand holding it stretched all the way back and the staff pointing away from the intruder. The stance was finished with the mans left hand resting on the ground, his legs wide apart to keep his balanced. He had settled in an almost crouch that made it painfully obvious he would spring at any moment and rip the wolfs head off. Blue eyes took in the shocking appearance with a critical eye. At least he had two of them, unlike the giant in front of him. The bone white man was taller than Teddy, his build naturally bigger and therefore the muscles that bulged from the mans entire being were to be expected. The braids in his dull hair were an odd accessory and the battered helmet on his head were very stranger indeed. Without pausing, Teddy let out a warning growl to let the man know that the young man had no qualms in ripping his throat out.

word count;; 583

Viking Sigurdr · 01-24-2011, 12:33 PM

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589 words. <3!

There were no set feelings that came to mind when 'King picked up his weapon day by day. The axe was fairly large, nearly waist high to the giant, passed down from a father he never knew. Any hopes of seeing him now were impossible, and the warrior had to turn away from his former life and into this new one. His weapon, like the helmet he wore, was a representation of the Warrior Band, and the last traces that remain flowed through his blood - the king's blood. But a weapon wasn't simply something that one wielded and struck an opponent with, it was an extension of the arm, and the flow of the body guiding the weapon to where it needed to go. A weapon was strong, and limitless, and held no doubt when biting into its victim, drawing out a potentially deathly result.

Training, therefore, was to build the body to become a weapon, as well. Every fiber of a warrior's being, to Viking's standards, needed to be sculpted for battle - whether or not there was one on the horizon. The gods were constantly watching, as were the king and queen of the Band, who may as well have been gods themselves. It became ingrained into the minds of every wolf, then, that the gods were always watching, even if the leaders themselves weren't. This was one reason the bone colored wolf wandered out into the frosty morning, to hopefully prove himself worthy to be a warrior on these lands, under the protection of the celestial beings he believed in, even though the eyes of his former king and queen were not upon him.

A distant crack of a tree alerted the foreign warrior, face hardening as 'King listened intently. He knew it came from the black stranger in the distance, and 'King waited expectantly for the shadow to react to his, well, greeting. From within the trees, red-violet eye could see the male reacting, tensing up from where he crouched on the ground. The giant expected nearly every reaction, watching with a neutral expression when shocking blue eyes met his own single one, and once eyes had locked, Viking heard the warning sounds given by the shadow.

It was to be expected, too. To anyone else, they might have thought it a threat, or backed away instantly. To the bone washed male, this was the moment to show another warrior (judging from the weapon in his hand and the muscles that held the man's form) the sign of regard. On the wind, the giant scented that the male was part of the pack with a queen he now had the duty of protecting, and therefore, to the off-white colored fighter, they were brothers. Not by blood, but by a silent pact made under the eye of Thor, the mottled sunlight drifting through the trees - watching both figures that day.

Ears twitched as the shadow ahead remained growling, and slowly Viking positioned his feet at even angles from his body, standing straight as both hands gripped the worn handle of his weapon. Gripping it tightly, the giant angled the blade pointing downwards, lifting it up for the other male to see. After a brief moment, both hands slid near the end of the weapon handle and the blade whistled through the air and bit into the cold, hard ground. Both hands still on the hilt, the braided warrior's gaze dropped to the floor, showing - in his way - a warrior's sign of respect.

Theodore Stone · 01-25-2011, 06:53 AM

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ooc;; rawr!

Blue eyes locked onto the pinkish red of the other and a well of anger rose up in him. There was obviously something wrong with this half-deformed man, else he would have look away when their eyes met. But the red hue stayed locked with his own cool blue and he allowed the warning growl to deepen into a snarl. Though the man was bigger than him physically, Teddy knew that he was of a much higher rank than he was. If he had no respect then Theodore had no problem in teaching him some manners. Of course, he would have had to get over their first and he had seen the large axe the man wielded. Teddy had no such weapon and the bowstaff in his hands was for training purposes only- it rarely did much damage than break a few legs or ribs. That axe could cut him clean in half. Obsidian ears cupped forward to catch the growl the man sent in return and his anger appeared to subside a little.

At least the man had some balls. Of course, the young Marbas was angered by the man, no beasts, lack of respect towards him. But as a warrior, Teddy prided the man for defending himself. He stayed locked in his crouched position, waiting to see if the man would approach and introduce himself as it seemed protocol around here or whether he would simply attack. He didnt exactly reek of Anathema, but the faintest trace of Naniko on his fur made the young warrior certain he belonged to the pack. Blue eyes watched as the man dug his axe into the ground and finally averted his eyes. Thats better.

Now the man had looked away, Teddy felt it necessary to rise up out of his crouching position. The move was fluid and strong, his limbs unhindered by muscle aches or pains. The bowstaff came to rest by his side before he took two steps towards the beast. His face had returned to its usual lack of interest pose and his eyes cooled to a hard solidity that allowed no one passed. He was a warrior first and foremost and his posture and expression reeked of this. "And you are?" Came cold words as he came to settled a few yards away from the man. He would not be the first to introduce himself, and therefore the courtesy fell on the beast with his head still slightly bowed.

word count;; 411

Viking Sigurdr · 02-05-2011, 07:20 PM

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+3. Sorry for the lateness, and shortness <3. Late congrats, by the way! :3

From what King could see from his eye, though locked onto the ground, the shadow rose up from the ground. The giant had a feeling he would, too, after giving the fellow warrior the respectful and silent greeting. Viking grunted with mouth closed, lips pulled thin. Though his head was somewhat bowed, his senses were ever alert. The shadow was ever fluid in his motions, as the bone washed male suspected, and his head rose slightly to observe the other walking towards him in the dappled shade.

Then the shadow spoke, and Viking withdrew his blade slowly from the earth. As he yanked it back to rest at his side, idly gripping it in his large right hand, the braided warrior's head rose. Red-violet eye did not meet the stark blue of the other warrior, as the higher ranked warrior directed a question in the giant's direction. The warrior's pose was alert, wary, and strong - the traits every fighter should physically have, even when they weren't facing any danger. The shadow's voice expressed the same interest that Viking could see in his pose, cautious and with a hint of power in his voice.

"Viking," came his gruff voice, short and to the point. As he spoke, he lifted his free hand to his chest, fingers slightly curled, indicating his name to his physical form. Letting his hand then trail downwards again, scarred ears twitched as he said no more, silently breathing the cold air. He would wait for the other to speak again, and whether the shadow gave his own name or not did not matter to the giant. The large warrior already knew that the man held some sort of power, and were part of the same pack. In a way, that made them brothers, though by a bond that wasn't in blood. In the Warrior Band, the relations were the same. Brothers that fought side by side was the beginning of a certain bond, whether they cared for each other or not. The respect was there, as was the knowledge to die for sacred traditions. Traditions that wouldn't die even when a warrior has fallen and become one with the earth.

Theodore Stone · 02-06-2011, 02:32 PM

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ooc;; rawr!

The strange looking man had straightened upon the three words spoken to him and Teddy wondered where the man had come from. He didnt look like any of the wolves around here, although that wasnt really saying much. They didnt exactly seem to stick to any specie around here and appeared only to be of every different breed imaginable. Perhaps it wasnt that which made him different then. It was maybe his general mannerism that pointed him out as a foreigner. Someone who had not been born on this vast continent. He moved like a traditional warrior with traditional values and that made sense to Teddy on a subconscious level

His name was given, Viking, and Teddy nodded in reply. He was going to give the man his name, but thought better of it for the moment. He hadnt asked, so maybe he didnt wish to know. Instead the blue eyed man gave the red-violet gaze of the other a hard glare before his bowstaff came up in blinding speed. Aiming for the mans head, but not in a malicious or vicious way. It was a practise blow, aimed to get the mans response more than anything. The staff curved through the air as he brought it high above him.

If the man really was a warrior he would understand that the Marbas wasnt trying to harm him. A sparring session with someone who would hit back with just as much ferocity. Despite the mans lack of trust and occasional spike of dislike for the bone coloured man, he knew that with weapons they spoke the same language. He thought this through in a moment and watched as his staff bowed low in aim for the mans head. It wouldnt harm him, it might not even touch him if the bone coloured man was fast enough with that axe.

word count;; 309

Viking Sigurdr · 02-19-2011, 03:19 PM

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Sorry this took so long! <3 Trying to get my muse back. +3

Ruby eye carefully watched the man who nodded in recognition to the giant's name. King expected just as much, and nothing more. It was apparent to the shadow, and anyone else who would have crossed the large warrior's path, that he was not only a stranger, but a foreigner. He nearly stuck out like a sore thumb, and yet none of that mattered to the one-eyed viking. He knew only what he knew, and believed there was nothing more to learn - only to grow upon what was already rooted in his customs.

Straight, bone-washed shoulders tensed up under his ragged fur, and his head lifted as the shadow brought his weapon, an extension to his form, up above his head. Instantly, King's mind was working, knowing what the shadow was trying to do. It was already a step into the collision of their worlds, black and white, in mutual terms of the clashing of weapons. It was how warriors understood one another, learning of their techniques and ways simply by the swing of their arm, or the stern glance in their eye.

And Viking raised his own axe to meet the bowstaff that was now swinging down towards the giant's head. Both figures were of nearly equal stature, and quickly Viking's right foot slid back and dug further into the ground, bracing himself. Both large paws gripped and hefted the axe over his own head, hearing the satisfying 'CLACK!' when metal met equally sturdy wood, only half a foot from between his scarred ears. A small grunt was emitted, simply from the action, as King took the initiative to push the bowstaff away with his own weapon, taking a step or two back in the snow.

The giant relaxed the grip on his axe only slightly, but his blood was now coursing - every muscle ready for battle, as they were trained to be. Again, the bone-washed male positioned himself, in a stance that showed he was ready for this sparring session - the only kind of language that needed to be spoken between both large warriors.

Theodore Stone · 03-04-2011, 04:30 PM

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ooc;; no worries, equally sorry for the wait!

Teddy knew that the warrior was not going to take this as a threat. They had acknowledged one another and they had silently decided to test one anothers strength and skill. It was as simple as that and Teddy wasn't going to dwell on these matters anymore. He was about action and reaction, the simple process of analysing movements and where the best place to parry the blow was. It was easy once you knew to allow yourself over to the energy of the world, to slow your breathing and slow time down so that you had enough time to think of ways to get out of the nextpredicament. Critical blue eyes watched the bone white man as he did the same, centering his weight and shifting the correct muscles as he pulled the axe from the gound.

Raised by both hands the axe came as a very successful block to his swung weapon. Ears flashed back against his skull as their weapons cracked together, the noice rebounding off the mountains behind them so that it came out as many cracks of wood against metal. The impact resonated through the warrior but keen blue eyes did not missed the shift of the warriors right foot as the force of his blow pushed him back. It was satisfying and exilerating. Of course, the male wasnt going to stay there long and the bone coloured male easily swung his axe to the side. His bow swung wide.

Quick minded the man could see that Viking wasnt done. Though his grip relaxed a little he was still in the same position as before, ready for the next blow. Theodore's next move was simply- as if in slow motion his bowstaff was still swinging back from the dismissal from the other man. As it came to its natural arc Teddy paused for a split second before bringing the staff back round in the same arc, horizontal this time. Aiming for the mans ribs, the staff was held tightly at the end, the swinging motion would be hard to block but not impossible. Teddy was curious to see how the bone man would get away from this one.

word count;; 309

Viking Sigurdr · 03-08-2011, 03:38 PM

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Mmm sexy warrior fights. +5

The clash that resonated in the wintry forest that morning might have frightened anyone surrounding, but to a fighter it was merely an open gesture - to test ones strength against another. Whether scratches, bruises, or any sort of harm came to the fighters in question was merely a sign of weakness, of not defending oneself in time. Any skilled warrior knew that it took a bit of beating around in order to get to the top, which was favored highly by the gods.

And this test, which now took place between the opposite colored males, was one neither would lightly back down on. The giant held his position, silently anticipating the shadowed warrior's next move - as he was taught to do. King was sure the man before him knew what he was up against, retreating his long bowstaff back to its original position. Every muscle in his own, bone stained body was poised, single eye trained on the shadow's position, as the tip of his tail flicked a couple times apprehensively.

The dark warrior's weapon was raised above him again, as was the previous attack, but Viking had a small sense that the fighter would not use the same attack, in the same form, once more. As it came swinging towards him, however, ruby eye flashed in reaction - it seemed, to the bone giant, that the same attack was about to be made. Both of the male's hands clenched around his own weapon, pushing forward with the foot he stepped back upon and raising the worn axe above his braided head. In the next split second, however, the dark warrior's bowstaff changed direction, and came in a horizontal fashion towards Viking's now exposed, bare chest.

Having not sparred with another since the battle in his homeland, King's ruby eye widened as the bowstaff came into contact with the upper left part of his chest, where the old, blood-fusion scar ran. It only took that split second for the giant to realize his mistake, and the weapon that came in contact with his form symbolized more than just exposure - it was weakness. A well trained warrior never left room for another to attack, if anything only the illusion of false hope. A grunt came in response from the giant's throat at the contact, naturally withdrawing his arms into himself as he stepped back from the weapon.

Axe was poised inches from his chest, hands almost violently gripping the handle. Eye narrowed, but not at the shadow before him that landed an attack. Mentally, the bone warrior was beating himself up, knowing how disappointed the observing gods must have been. There was a silence that hung in the air, and it weighed heavily on his own, sturdy shoulders. His breathing became faster, feeling the small throb on his front where the bowstaff landed. The male was going to shrug it off, not about to back down then.

With a small leap in his own, thundering steps, Viking pushed off the earth and made a bolt towards the other large male moments after the attack, not waiting for the other to make a full recover. Hands gripped the higher part of the axe handle, towards the base of the metal, aiming the blunt end towards the top of the dark warrior's head. It was a clear shot, in this position, but a good warrior was ready for anything.

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