(M) - Too bad it's just a dream.

Matteo Trovato · 01-23-2011, 01:38 AM

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+1117 Holy shat. :/ Too bad it doesn't count yet.

WARNING This thread contains: extremely offensive material starting with the 1st post, and graphic sexual content and possible violence later in the thread. Reader discretion is strongly advised.

So this was North America...? Young Matteo had never been outside of his home country before, Italy it was called, and a wonderfully warm home it had been. Here, in Canada, it was cold. Cold, and bright. Not very nice for albino eyes, the glare off the half-frozen snow. At least the clothes mother had sent with him were warm and comfortable. The Luperci-made fabrics were always nice and soft against his still thin fur, snug to his frame, but lined with warmth. Still, even wearing wolven boots, boy was freezing cold.

Still, this place seemed welcoming. It was a city, for one thing. It was nice and big and had plenty of places to go. He and Guiseppe, his brother, had taken residence, temporarily, in an old hotel. It wasn't the nicest place to be, but at least it was private and relatively warmer than the outside. Both coydogs had to use extra blankets the night before, though. It kept Guiseppe from being overly touchy-feely, but now a days, Matteo was getting used to his brother being so... to be completely honest, the night before had been lonely without a twin to snuggle up to.

And that morning, Guiseppe had vanished, leaving a note for Matteo telling him he'd gone off in search of rations. A likely story; more like he'd seen a piece of hot tail and had run off to get laid again. Sure, Matteo was used to being a last resort half the time, but it still stung that his brother wouldn't at least wake him up before running away... and that he'd lie to him. At least it gave the semi-albino some time to think.

Maybe that wasn't such a good thing. Snow-white boy wandered the streets of old Halifax, dazed and lost in his thoughts. Two nights prior, the two brothers had still been on the ship, coming to Canada. Guiseppe had been in a frustrated mood, and had taken it out on the white coydog. He'd been rough about it, rougher than usual, and because of that, Matteo was still sore. Bandages were tied around his torso, hiding away the scars and fresh gashes left there by darker-toned claws and teeth.

The Trovato boy wandered past some shops, open for customers to come in and trade. For a moment, one particular clothing shop caught his eye, but it was all human fashions. Nothing unique about it. Nothing nearly as eye-catching as the Italian fashions he'd been so used to growing up. Even his collar was fancy Italian leather, crafted with a white-gold buckle and shimmering silver d-rings and adjusters, contrasting the black hide it was made from. The thought of his symbolic accessory brought a pale hand to touch the buckled thing around his neck, stopping him in his tracks.

If Guiseppe came home, and found the younger coydog missing, he'd be angry. Teo was Guiseppe's prized peice of flesh, a trophy to use and abuse, then show off in public so he'd get attention. Normally, thoughts like that would've brought a bitter taste to Matteo's tongue, but recently, he'd grown so used to it... it was simply normal to him. He'd come to accept the fact that he was his brother's plaything, and of no use otherwise. Silently, he continued walking.

But wait, what was that? An empty shop nearby caught his attention, broken windows a horrible contrast to the beautiful stores back home. Inside, however, were plenty of interesting and ignored items. Most were broken, but boy could easily tell that it had been an antique store during the human age. Perhapes something inside would still be of value? The savage counterparts of his race, that lived here in the untamed, would surely see even the simplest of items as worthy trade stock, right? Naive boy wandered inside, glad for once that he wore crafted boots over his feet to shelter his tender paws from the cold floor and sharp glass.

Off he went, then, to rummage. A few nick-nacks caught his eye, but Teo kept searching. Nothing of value so far. The very back of the odd little shop had an interesting array of scents though. Curious, he went further inside, slowly so that his dual-colored eyes would adjust well to the darker lighting. In the back room of the store, boy found what was making the lingering smell. Hundreds of undiscovered scented candles and sticks and cones of incense lay wrapped, airtight, in jars, some recently broken open, thus releasing the intoxicating smell into the main part of the store. Intrigued, boy took a jar up, examining it. The dark navy sticks of scent inside were bound to smell nice, so with some serious effort, boy tried to open it.

No such luck. With a pout, he considered his options. Could I break it without drawing attention? Probably; the locals were probably used to the sound of shattering glass, from the looks of most of the shops. This was enough incentive, and quickly, boy shrugged and dropped the jar from his hands. It hit the ground with a sharp noise of splintering glass, aged and worn.

It hadn't been the best idea, admittedly. Matteo realized this when suddenly he felt a sharp pain in his calf. He jumped back, as if stung, and moved to check it out. Rolling up his pantleg, now torn, the poor kid found the problem. It was lodged nastily into his leg, just left of the shin; a two-inch long piece of jagged, musty scented glass. With a hiss of pain, boy winced, not enjoying the sight of blood on his white fur, yet again.

"Damn... that hurts." He knelt down carefully, leaning over to pull it out, doing so quickly with only a gasp at the sharp sting that it gave off. Dropping the bloody shard, boy moved to his coat pocket, one of many, and tugged out some extra gauze, previously grabbed in case he got his bandages on his back wet.

He'd gotten so used to bandaging himself, that the next part came naturally. Without so much of a growl or hiss at the pain, he wrapped it up neatly, then tore away the extra to be shoved back into his pocket. Satisfied with this, he sat back away from the broken glass to just relax for a moment, letting his pantleg fall back over his shin and ankle. Matteo slowly allowed his eyes to close, head lolling back against the shelf he leaned up against, resting a moment despite the chilled air and strong smells in the room. I'll just take a moment to rest, then be on my way again. I need to get.. back.. soon...

Valinta LeStrange · 01-23-2011, 05:21 PM

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814 words. BOOFUCKINGYAH. Do these count towards the pack game?

Valinta loved to explore. She could do anything, be anyone, when she explored. Right at that moment in time, in Halifax, she was a pirate captain plundering the shops of the land, for supplies and wares. Several ‘argh’s and ‘me hearty’s were uttered. Valinta wanted some clothes, and was going to get them from ‘Souls’ little shopping district.
Finding and putting on a shirt that wasn’t damaged by time or insects, Valinta faced a mirror, looking at her small form. Unassuming black hair that hung straight down framed an intelligent and inquisitive face. Her ears flattened and Valinta sighed, turning away from the mirror.

She hated looking at herself, she always had. Valinta didn’t see herself as beautiful, pretty, or cute. Just noticeable, only noticeable, she had always thought. It didn’t matter either way, though, as Valinta had no interest in any of the males she had ever met. And none of them showed any interest towards her.

Valinta would go so far as to say that some males hated her. Certainly some in Russia did. The young female would not be surprised if she were told that there was a price, or several prices on her head, back in the mother land. “That’s how life is, though, isn’t it?” she whispered tonelessly to herself in Russian. It was how life was. At least for her, it was.

But that was a different place, and a different time. There was an ocean between her and that country. There was only death, despair, and hatred waiting for here there. A chance at a new life greeted her upon coming to the shores of Canada. Where she stood then was completely different from where she stood at present. And so it would remain that she stood there.

Valinta shifted a few steps and smoothed down the purple shirt she wore. It was dark and had silver tracery on it. The long sleeves covered her arms to her wrists. It was beautiful, especially to a woman who didn’t really know beauty. Looking around, her eyes rested upon a pair of trousers, black, with silver pinstripes. Cutting a hole in them for her tail, Valinta tried them on. They fit perfectly, bringing a small smile to her face. Satisfied with her finds, Valinta exited the store.

A soft sound was heard. It wasn’t too far away. A shattering sound, as if someone took a piece of glass and hit it against something hard, that was what she had heard. Valinta faced the direction that it came from, and felt a damp, chill breeze blow her hair back, and bring a faint, intoxicating scent. She followed the smell and soon found herself in front of an old human antique shop.

Stepping inside, Valinta felt something sharp pierce the rough pads on her feet. Hissing in a breath, she looked down and saw pieces of broken glass all over the floor around the window. Jumping lightly over them, she grimaced as she put weight on her foot, then sat down to remove the painful little shard.

That scent was so powerful and intense that it blocked out the smell of her blood so close to her face. It was heady. Valinta saw a door and looked past it, inside a small room. A young boy with an odd collar stood in the room, surrounded by unopened jars of candles and incense, but for a few of them. That must have been the smell. They could be worth many things in trade, if she took some. This trip was lucrative, indeed.

But the boy intrigued her. Stepping into the room, Valinta looked at him. “Are you okay?” she asked the boy softly. He looked shocked, almost. It worried her, as he looked to be very young, younger than her even. It wasn’t something all that pleasant, when you yourself, considered a baby, saw someone that might be younger than you in pain or going through something painful.

Whatever the boy was feeling, Valinta wanted to help make it better. She could comfort him, couldn’t she? She knew the right words to whisper as she gave a warm hug. Her scent was even comforting to most people. Valinta was just a person that had to help others to feel like she was whole.

It was a quirk of hers, admittedly, but it was one that was often for the good. When someone needed help, or comfort, she was the first person to leap into action. But sometimes, it made her feel hollow and empty, because no one helped her like she helped them. It broke her in spirit, and made her hate herself a little bit each day.

But that could be shoved down into a spiteful little box in the back of her mind, as the boy probably needed more help than she did, and Valinta was determined to give it.

Matteo Trovato · 01-23-2011, 11:23 PM

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+347 Hover over the Italian to see translations. :3 Not that Val would know, but at least you will.

"Mm?" Eyes blinked open a moment, glancing over as a new voice filled his ears, questioning him if he was well. He blinked dully, then seemed to realize it wasn't his imagination. The girl before him was a pretty thing, with long hair, and nearly completely black in color, a contrast to his pure white fur. She really was nice to look at, though he felt a twist at thinking so; Guiseppe would be so angry with him, if he ever became interested in a woman. Women led to hurt, as his brother had told him. Don't ever, ever trust them. Never. He perked his ears upon realizing she'd spoken to him, musing over the obviously Russian accent that she carried.

"Oh, sì, io sono ... tutto bene." He paused, then shook his head a moment, clearing his throat. His voice had come out raspy, unused. Now it was clearer, as he corrected his language with a thick Italian accent. "Ah, sorry. Yes, I am alright." The boy adjusted a bit, then made a soft sound of surprise as she suddenly came over, wrapping her arms around him in a hug. He stiffened. Matteo wasn't the type to recieve such affections. It was strange to him, especially from a stranger. What odd people lived here...

Timidly, he allowed it, though he didn't return it. Teo sat motionless, his breath steady, forced so. Slightly, inside, he was cringing; her arms were loosely draped over his injured back, irritating the gashes that rested there, wrapped tightly in bandages and gauze. Eventually, he worked up the nerve to clear his throat, leaning back a bit in hopes she'd let go. Softly, his voice worked again.

"Mi scusi, signorina. Please watch my back. I am recovering from injuries." It felt weird... not good weird either, speaking out of turn. He'd been told so many times not to, and he only ever spoke out around his older brother; he was used to the casual conversations he could start with him. Speaking to a stranger like this was weird... "Si prega di lasciar andare."

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