[M]- On a Dark and Stormy Night...
#1
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WARNING This thread contains: graphic violence and strong sexual content starting with the 1st post. Reader discretion is advised.
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Thread Information
Date: Mid-November (Backdated. Way back.)

Setting: Atlantic Ocean, on the Black Pearl Tongue

Time: Close to Midnight

Character Form: Optime

Outfit: Black cargo pants, black leather collar. That's it.
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+734 - This post hints to sexual content and rather intense violence. Just a warning. The paragraph that's worst for this is marked with "☻", in case you want to skip it. It's not important to the scene, really.

Hunger. It was a gnawing pain in his stomach, far worse than the turning sensation brought on by the rocking boat. Outside, on-deck, the force of the storm could be felt like a hurricane, battering the wooden ship like hell itself had broken loose on the open ocean. The only proof of the storm inside the cabins and underdeck though, were the constant leaks in the ceiling and the sloshing effect the waves had on the vessel, casting the crew and passengers around like ragdolls at times.

Enough dramatic scenery though. Down below deck, in one of the less glorious cabins, a young male sat alone. His knees were pulled up to his chest, face buried into his legs and arms hugging around them tightly. Matteo Trovato tried as hard as he could to overcome the sick feeling he had, biting back the occasional whimper as the ship pitched especially hard to the left.

They'd been at sea for nearly three days now, and Guiseppe had forbidden the younger twin any sort of real meal since casting off. Matteo was still debating the likelyhood of surviving the trip, thanks to his brother's cruel treatment. He'd expected no less from the darker male, though, considering the reason they were on this damned ship in the first place.

☻ The memory was still fresh; his brother's claws digging into his back, the growls of pleasure loud and obtrusive in the younger Trovato's abused ears. His own cries of discomfort mixed with unwelcome pants and whimpers for more. The sudden feeling of dread and horror as their father walked in, just as Guiseppe hit his peak. The mortification of reaching his own climax in plain view of his father's horrified stare.

The pain of abandonment when his mother refused to help him out of the situation. The guilt of being shamed in the eyes of both his parents and the Lord. He could remember the bitter hatred in his older brother's eyes as they received their punishment, and then their exile. The older Trovato hadn't said a word to him the entire time it took to reach the docks, and even after they got on the ship, it was abusive act after abusive act.

Matteo was bruised and sore all over. Sitting as he did hurt him, though it was better than laying down and irritating his still healing cuts and scratches. Albino eyes opened and glanced up into the dark room, wet and empty aside from the bunks that were built into the walls. Four of them. One belonged to his brother, the rest were left empty. The floor was Teo's bed for the entire trip, as a punishment for crying on the first night.

With a sad and bitter glare, the young lad tucked his chin into the crevice between his knees, tail curling tighter around his waist. How had it come to be this way? Guiseppe had told him nothing would come of their nights together. He'd told him that it was all a game, and no one could be hurt by a silly game. Matteo had believed every word. Now he was seeing things in a new light, one that was at the far end of a chain, just out of reach.

He was a slave. He was his brother's item. A toy to be played with, abused, and then put away for later. Simple as that. Slowly he was coming to accept this fate. There was no way his father would ever let him come home alone, not that he'd be able to escape his older brother's clutches long enough to get away, and there was no chance of escaping the nightmare that had become his life because of it. He'd finish the ship ride to Canada (if he survived the entire way) and then he'd start his new life at the end of a leash, his brother holding the other end with an iron grasp.

Sighing shakily, Matteo curled tighter into his corner. Oh bitter seas, strike us and let us drown. I want nothing more to do with this horrible thing the Lord calls a gift. Where's my sunshine behind stormy clouds? All I see now is rain. Rain, and blood. Slowly, pink and blue hued eyes drifted shut. Outside, the thunder crashed loudly overhead, followed by a blinding flash of Lightning. The storm, like the voyage, was far from over.

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#2
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While traveling was something that the man had begrudgingly gotten used to, it seemed that life across the sea was not a life for Dresden. When he had come across the old port town months ago, he marveled at the docking ships as a way to forever escape his troubles and leave his past behind. As much as it pained him to do so, he saw it as a necessity. Put as much distance between him and Kobol as possible. So to the two-toned male, fleeing across the ocean had appeared to be the best option for him.


The warrior had tried to find a place for himself within the strange new societies, but to no avail. After spending weeks alone in the forest surrounding a small town, Dresden finally admitted to himself that this had been a terrible idea. He missed his beautiful daughters, missed having a purpose in protecting them and the tribe as he had been raised to do. Now the once proud warrior was reduced to nothing more than lost and sorry vagabond. Even if he could never have his old life back, it brought him some meager sense of comfort that he would at least be closer to what he once had if he went back.


So now he was returning to his homeland, once again forcing himself to suffer through the unsteady and turbulent travels by boat. The uneasy feeling in his stomach was much better handled this second time around, but with the ferocity of this storm, Dresden was unsure how long that would remain true. The Husky male had spent the last two nights bunked up in a small cabin with an argumentative couple and their two adolescent children. After being awoken that morning by more bickering and nearly punching out the jackass male, he knew that it was time for a change. He put on the long, black coat he had bought weeks before to cover up his weapons, grabbed the bag that temporarily held his bow and quiver and left the room without another word.


First instinct had him fleeing above deck. It was idiotic and didn't last long, considering the stormy conditions outside, but the damage was already done. His exposed fur was nearly soaked through, his leather coat all but ruined by the moisture. He probably looked ridiculous, dripping wet wearing only knee-length shorts and his coat, the latter open to keep his daggers in easy (and comforting) reach. At this point, he could care less what he looked like, as long as he could find some place to sit his ass down and dry off without having to listen to anymore inane arguments.


He returned below deck and began what he hoped wouldn't be a pointless search for a quiet, empty cabin to lay low in. As he moved through the rocking ship, it seemed like this might indeed be a lost cause, most of the cabins full up or containing people just as loud as his last roommates. He tried his luck with yet another door, one that had no sounds coming from behind it. Three sharp knocks on the door before he pushed it open, glancing inside. Icy blue eyes peered through the darkness of the cabin, spotting a figure curled in on itself in the corner. Well. Not empty, but it would do. Hopefully the pathetic figure in the corner there didn't have numerous loud roommates running amok through the ship at the moment. Even if he did, beggars couldn't be choosers, and Dresden had certainly been knocked down to the level of beggar.


He stepped into the doorway, free hand bracing against the frame as a particularly nasty wave rammed into the side of the ship. "Damn storm," he muttered under his breath, closing his eyes for a moment until rocking of the ship steadied itself again. With a displeased sigh, he opened ice blue eyes and once again sought out the figure in the corner. "Would you happen to have room for a temporary bunk-mate in here? Having some... issues with mine at the moment." Dresden shifted his bag from one hand to the other, hoping that he would say yes, but careful to keep his aloof features free of any sign of that hope.


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#3
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The lullaby is a real Italian lullaby called Fate la nanna, coscine di pollo. It's one of those slow, sad-sounding lullabies. Listen to it here.

Matteo's silent prayers were broken by the voice of a stranger. Dual-colored eyes blinked open and he looked up at the husky standing in the doorway, looking more dull than afraid despite the curdled fear settling into his stomach. It wasn't that the stranger was frightening in appearance or anything. No, actually, Matteo found the man to be attractive in his own way. He was dual-toned like most Huskies were with ice-colored eyes and markings far more attractive than that of any coyote or wolf. Teo had always appreciated the markings dogs could have; far more appealing than blotchy grays, browns and blacks.

The other male spoke in English, a language that Matteo had come to understand as a pup, despite Italian being his first tongue. As far as he could tell, the soaked male wanted to bunk down in his and Giuseppe's room. Who was he to say no?

Rather than speaking, he glanced over at one of the empty beds and then back at the husky, nodding his timid approval. Once sure that his point had been made, he curled in on himself again and closed his eyes, opting to fall asleep rather than to remain awake in the company of a total stranger. Softly, under his breath, he whispered an Italian lullaby, one his mother used to sing to him as a pup. Hopefully, he'd fall asleep to it, and by the time he'd awaken, the ship would be docked or the storm would be over, and he'd be back on land yet again.



Fate la nanna coscine di pollo,

la vostra mamma vi ha fatto un gonnello,

e ve l'ha fatto con lo smerlo in tondo,

fate la nanna coscine di pollo.


Dormi, dormi coscine di pollo,

che la mamma cuce il gonnello;

te lo cuce con tutto il contorno.

Dormi, dormi coscine di pollo

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#4
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Che bella!


He further studied the quiet stranger as he stood in the doorway. Clothed in shorts and, interestingly, a collar, curled up like he was trying to keep the world out. White fur left him looking almost ghostly in the dim light of the cabin. Icy eyes met the stranger’s two-toned gaze as he looked up, following his gaze to one of the empty beds. Then there was a nod, and that was that. Dresden had wanted peace and quiet, and it looked like he quite literally got it. “Much appreciated,” he said, nodding back in thanks.


Dresden made his way to the indicated bed, dropping his bag onto the floor beneath it. He slipped out of the soaked coat, folding it half-heartedly before tossing it on top of the bag. Then with a sigh, he settled himself onto the edge of the bed. His gaze drifted about the room for a moment, finding this cabin to be just as uninteresting as all the others. Idly, he noted that there was another scent lingering about the room, one that differed slightly from the stranger in the corner. It looked like Mr. Silence here wasn’t alone after all. He wondered where New Bunkmate #2 might have wandered off to. The warrior shrugged the thought away and pushed himself farther onto the bed. He sat up, leaning against the cabin wall with legs stretched out across the bed. He folded his hands across his stomach and closed his eyes. There it was, sweet silence, save for the white noise of the storm.


There was another sound, however, one that the husky nearly missed. Quiet whispers. Eyelids slid back open and icy blue eyes turned toward the whispering figure. “You say something?” The question was tossed casually into the still air. Hell, he couldn’t deny that he was curious about whatever the male could be mumbling about, but he wasn’t about to outright admit that. The husky male wouldn’t have been surprised if he was answered with silence. His new bunkmate didn’t seem all that talkative, though the warrior couldn’t hazard a guess as to why, aside from the possibility that he didn’t understand him at all. But he seemed to understand him well enough when he came knocking at the door. He could just feel free to ignore the question if he wanted. If he took offense to it, though, Dresden would have to wonder why he’d even let him stay in here in the first place.

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#5
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Poor Teo, nervous wreck.

Matteo's ears picked up every sound the male made as he walked over to an empty bunk, claiming it for himself. When the bag he'd been carrying dropped to the floor, the sound made Teo jerk a bit, startled. He continued whispering his lullaby even as silence overtook the room again, the newcomer having made himself comfortable on the bed he'd claimed. It wasn't until the boy heard the other's voice again did the whispering stop dead, eyes snapping open but face still hidden from view. He waited a moment in silence, and then another...

...and then he looked up, eyes trailing over to the huskey. He'd been addressed. It was rude not to answer. So, in his heavy Italian accent, the boy mumured his reply softly. I was singing, sir. I apologize. He looked almost afraid for a moment. Normally, if Giuseppe caught him mumbling like that, he'd be smacked or insulted. He dreaded the idea that someone else might do that. The trip on the boat had been hell compared to being back home, where things were kept secret from their parents.

Without Carissa and Draco there to protect him, Matteo suffered many more totures, ones that made him scream out. As such, the normally shy lad had suddenly become a terrified wreck, so obviously abused and tormented. Just talking to anyone was a burden, now that Giuseppe was the only voice left to hear most times. This stranger was the last thing he'd expected to have to deal with.

...what if Giuseppe had sent the guy to keep an eye on him!? Oh God in heaven... if I make a mistake... and if that's the case... Giuseppe would maul me! The thought alone had Teo's already wide eyes widening just that much more before he lowered his gaze to his paws. He'd keep his mouth shut for now, as long as the other male didn't continue speaking to him. Conversation was dangerous.

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#6
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As soon as the words left his lips, the whispering stopped. A silent moment ticked by, then another, and still no response from the ghostly man in the corner. Well. So much for that. Then, unexpectedly, accented words drifted softly through the air—an explanation, an apology. Dresden’s attention turned back to the stranger. “Singing? Hmm.” He considered that for a moment, scrutinizing the other. “Don’t apologize,” he said, waving his hand, dismissing it. “Sing if you want. Sing loud, sing proud.” He paused at that, instantly regretting the words. It wasn’t as if he minded the singing, no, but he didn’t need to go encouraging him to start up a racket. Though, judging from the other’s unnervingly timid demeanor and unnecessary apology, he doubted that that would really be a problem.


The silence that he’d previously believed to be so sweet now twisted into something more uncomfortable. The stranger’s nervous behavior had a way of stirring up Dresden’s own nerves. The warrior was usually unfazed by social situations, but there was something about stuck in a room with an obviously frightened individual that was beginning to put him on edge. Indeed, beneath the rattling of the boat and the pounding of the waves, the comparative silence between them became terribly palpable. He felt like if he made any sudden moves, he might send the skittish fellow into a nervous breakdown. What the hell could have happened to this guy to make him so fearful?


The husky awkwardly scratched at a spot behind his ear, eyes searching about the room as if something distracting would present itself to him. Unfortunately nothing magically popped out of the dull room, and his icy gaze wound up returning to the frightened stranger. “So, uh. The name’s Dresden.” He was grasping at straws to begin with, but introducing himself seemed like a step in the right direction. It was only polite, considering he’d let him stay in the room, despite his obvious discomfort. He hoped that at the very least he could show the other male that he could rest at ease. Another look at his frightened expression and avoidant gaze told him that probably wouldn’t be so simple, but Dresden could see no harm in giving it a shot anyway.

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#7
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La la la~

The other didn't seem to mind the idea of a song being sung, despite Matteo's original fears. He told the boy to sing loud and proud if he wanted to and for a moment, Teo considered the idea of singing the lullaby out loud. It might put him to sleep quicker at least. Rather than doing so, however, Teo sat back against the wall a bit, still holding his legs but no longer curled as tightly as he was before. At least this guy didn't seem too dangerous. Maybe he'd be friendly, like the servants back home, or the brothers' cousins. Maybe.

The man introduced himself as Dresden. An odd name, to be sure, but still suitable. Matteo looked up at him and nodded. My name is Matteo. He'd be more formal about it, except manners didn't strike him as being too important, other than the very basics. As soon as names were shared, though, boy went back to his la-la land. He zoned out, a particularly rough wave knocking him back into his curled position. Progress was slow.

Then he started singing. It was whispers at first, like before, but slowly the boy eased into a soft, quiet song, the same one as before. His voice was lovely, gentle and innocent, still young and fresh but lovely to hear. He couldn't sing a rock song with that voice, but a lullaby suited him perfectly. He stared at his feet as he sang, Italian words rolling smoothly off his lips as he eased into the tune, enjoying his mother's melody for him. Dresden had given him permission, so why not? It certainly seemed to help.

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