the sun don't shine down here
#1
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Optime form; starts at Sm. Family #4, where she and Citlali will be living (once I get that sorted out), ends at the general commons.
HAI ANATHEMA!
WC→344

Living in a cave system made her wonder if the creatures of her new family were cut off from the world around them, recluses to their world beneath the ground, as if they eschewed more common lifestyle for the darkness. She supposed it wasn't so entirely bad; the home she had chosen for herself and Citlali was intricate enough to allow for separate bedrooms as well as storage, and she found it magnificent that such a thing was possible. During her youth in Eterne, she had lived much like any other Eternian, with a house. Caves were unique. Caves were different. Momoztli didn't reach down there.

The petite coyote placed her satchel against the small amount of bedding she'd dragged into the den, flame-colored eyes glancing into the depths of the other areas. There were scents she was wholly unfamiliar with. Truly, there was an entire group of like-minded Luperci hiding beneath the ground. A faint smile passed over her features. How interesting. How queer. "Cómo magnifico."

Letting Citlali work to his own devices, Tlantli Kimaris made her way out of the caves in the search for life; perhaps she wanted to talk, or simply to explore and study. She had no purpose as she entered the loop leading to the homes of other pack members. Light steps took the coyote forward, the clink of metal jewelry passing through the air. What was more interesting than simply the fact that Anathema lived beneath the ground was that their home was so large. She hadn't even taken time to explore the other half of the system, knowing only the area where the other members of the family lived.

Coming to the end of the loop, she peered into the large common room, running small fingers through her scruff of mane as she studied the area. Out of curiosity, she moved to the wall of the room, rapping her knuckles against the wall gently. The construction of the caves turned over in her head, and she wondered how exactly they had made them so large.



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#2
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HIDE YOUR INNOCENCE BEFORE THEY SEE RIGHT THROUGH

-snatches thread!- wc: 396



The past few weeks had rendered the expansive and intricate cave system of Anathema much less intimidating and confusing to the young pup. Jackson had been reunited with his father and his sister, after nearly a month apart. Upon his arrival, he kept close to Ravesque at nearly all times, eyes wide with wonder at the curious sight of the fire-lit caves. As he got used to the dim expanses of the caves, the young boy spent most of his time trying to convince Agony to follow him on some grand adventure through the caves where they would discover riches and fame, and make everyone jealous of them! Yet his stubborn sibling would have none of that.



Well, Jackson would just have to have all of the adventure for himself, then. Papa had left their family cave earlier in the day, and the youngsters had remained behind. But now Agony had fallen into a light slumber, and Jackson didn't feel the need to join her in a little puppy nap. Instead, the little hybrid boy snatched up his favorite stick in his tiny jaws and took off through the caves to start his own adventure. Maybe he could find his papa, and they could adventure together!



A peculiar clinking noise caught his attention and he stopped in his tracks, floppy ears perking up slightly at the noise. What was that? Was it the mean lady he met when he first arrived? Or some fearsome creature lurking through their halls? Determined to find out, the pup bravely hurried forward, the quest to find his father now forgotten. The boy bumbled along through the large hallway, following the strange noise all the way out to the really big cave papa had brought him to before.



Wide blue eyes were quick to spot a stranger knocking on the cavern's wall. Jackson furrowed his brow in confusion at the sight. What was she doing? Did she make those weird sounds before? As the boy considered this, an idea sprang to his mind. Maybe this lady had made those sounds by hitting the wall. Maybe the cave walls could make all kinds of noises! Wanting to try it out for himself, Jackson hurried over to where the stranger stood and wasted no time in repeatedly swinging the stick held in his jaws against the solid rock of the wall before them.


YOU MUSTN'T DISAPPOINT THEM
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#3
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Kinda crappy...I r sorry. ;~; Jackson is so kewt. <3 Pardon her horrible accent.

She didn't notice the presence of anything at first, so fixed upon searching the walls for something to lend knowledge of the construction that her flame-hued eyes closed. It wasn't until another had joined in her rapping that she returned to reality. Confused, she scoured the air around her, searching for a body that wasn't there. A huff escaped pale golden lips. Was she hearing things? No. It was simply smaller than she had expected. At her feet, pounding on the wall with a stick, was a monochrome puppy bearing dog patterns.

"Why, hallo there, leetle one." Her words were soft, but not weak, and a smile passed over her features for the briefest moment. His attempt at replicating her sounds was charming. A jangle of metal accented the thud of the wall as she ran her fingers through the mop of dark mane settled atop her head; the bracelets she wore had been payment for time in Barbados, alongside a few pieces of coin that had added to her attempt to leave the island. It offered music to the percussion, and brought yet another smile to the Eternian's face. "It seems that Anat'ema has ahn musician in you, leetle one."

Her petite body took an inelegant drop to the ground in order to be at the boy's level.



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#4
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HIDE YOUR INNOCENCE BEFORE THEY SEE RIGHT THROUGH

Es all good. <3 wc:323



The continuous rapping of his stick against the wall resounded with the faintest of echoes throughout the large cavern that made up Anathema’s common room. While it didn’t make the same weird clinking noise he had heard before, the action created its own unique noise that still pleased the boy. Who knew that the walls could make so much noise? He was sure glad that he decided to go out on his adventure instead of staying with sleepy-head Agony. He would have to tell her all about it and make her jealous. Then she would have to follow him on his adventures from now on, right? The thought was another cheerful one for the optimistic puppy.



The noise up above that had inspired his own actions came to an abrupt halt, and after another vigorous swing of the stick or two, Jackson ceased his own noise-making. The blue-eyed boy stared up at the lady beside him, who smiled down at him and said hello with some funny sounding words. With the stick still held tightly in his jaws, the boy returned her greeting with the silent and vigorous wagging of his spotted tail. When the strange clinking noise sounded again, this time without any pounding on the walls, the boy’s eyes widened. His floppy ears did their best to perk up and pinpoint the noise, and after a moment he determined that it had come from the loops around the woman’s wrist.



The stranger spoke again and dropped down to the ground. The hybrid boy eyed the woman’s bracelets for another silent moment before turning his gaze to her smiling face. He opened his mouth to speak, promptly dropping his stick. He scrambled to stand over it protectively, and once satisfied, he returned his attention to the other. “I’s not leetle,” he protested in his best approximation of her unfamiliar accent. “I’s Jackson,” the boy stated proudly, beaming up at the strange lady.


YOU MUSTN'T DISAPPOINT THEM
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#5
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Sorry for the wait! 300+

His mouth relinquished its grip on the stick long enough to speak, though his small spotted body loomed over it as if to protect precious property; the whole effect was oddly comical to the coyote female, and she held back laughter with some difficulty. His protest only pushed her amusement further. He wasn't 'leetle'. He was Jackson, so very proud of the fact. Her smile, reserved for few, spread further across a petite maw. "You are Jak-son. Aye am Tlantli. You liek musik, leetle Jak-son?" Her fingers pushed shaggy strands of dark mane back between her ears, and again the metal bands loosely hung about her wrists made a pleasant clink clink sound.

He was young. In silence, she wondered where his parents were hiding. Did he have a mother and father, or was he alone like she and Citlali were? Metetztli was in Eterne. Perhaps he was dead. Perhaps Baphomet had taken him away from them, as he had taken Xochime and tried to take Tlantli herself. It was her hope that her pseudo-father still lived. He'd need to see the children brought back by the two men she had traveled with. This boy probably had such hopes in his own parents, but would they be there to see them? Ruddy eyes focused on mono-color spots with vague curiosity.

"So, Jak-son. Wehre do you come frahm?" Question asked, her body twisted to face the rocky wall again. One delicate hand rose to rap against the surface, ears swiveling thoughtfully. Back to her task of understanding. Caves were strange, but now they were home. She'd need to learn about them soon enough; sooner was far more pleasing than later. "Do you haft parans here? Madre y padre? Maye parans ahre home, in Eterne." Rambling came out with ease, even if it made little sense to the little boy.



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#6
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HIDE YOUR INNOCENCE BEFORE THEY SEE RIGHT THROUGH
And I'm sorry for MY wait. wc: 311



With amusement written all across her features, the strange lady repeated his name in a funny way and then introduced herself as Tlantli, a mouthful of consonants the boy could doubtfully reproduce. “What’s musik?” he asked, staring wide-eyed at the trinkets on her wrist when they created that delightful clink sound again. How did they do that? Yet Tlantli was full of questions of her own, and the hybrid pup answered eagerly.



“I’s from New Brunswick!” The previous moment’s uncertainty was now gone, replaced once more by some his youthful pride. He had been born in the cult pack that many of Anathema’s founding members had fled from. Jackson himself had only experienced two months of peace there, most of which he couldn’t remember, before the ever-suspicious Tribunal turned his world upside down. His father first fled with one of his sisters, and a month went by before a friend of his father’s brought Jackson here to reunite with them. Esmeralda was still missing, but the hopeful boy just knew she would be here any day now. Perhaps the boy’s pride had more to do with being able to answer this lady’s question, rather than being fond of his turbulent origins.



The woman rambled on again in her strange accent, and the boy took a moment to try to decipher her words. He had no idea what a “madre y padre” was, but “parans” he could figure out. Parents. He nodded, though she likely wouldn’t notice as she examined the cave wall once again, and he dropped himself unceremoniously into a sitting position, still guarding over his precious stick. “Papa lives here wit me an’ Agony.” He pawed briefly at his stick. “Mama’s dead.” The words were delivered matter-of-factly, but his feelings were betrayed by the touch of sadness that flashed to his features, a rare thing for the rambunctious boy.



YOU MUSTN'T DISAPPOINT THEM
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#7
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He seemed as eager to answer her questions as she was to ask them, and it surprised her to hear he didn't know what music was — or at least didn't know what the accented word meant when it came from her mouth. Before she answered, he continued to talk, telling her how he was from New Brunswick (a place she didn't know). As Tlantli rapped on the cave wall once more, she mulled over the members of Anathema. They all came from such different places, it seemed, but none of them — that she'd met so far, at least — were from a region near her own home. How she longed for the sunlit civilization that held the head of the Kimaris family. Metetztli would be so proud of her, she was certain. She'd make him proud.

The news about Jackson's family caused her to pause and look at the child. His father was there, with someone named Agony, but his mother was gone. Though he spoke with such certainty, she could tell he felt sorrow. One golden hand reached out to pat the pup atop his black-and-white head. "Aye ahm sorry for the lost ahf tu madre, your mother." It was strange for the coyote to feel such sympathy for another. "Mi padre, maye papa, he ess gone. Like your mama. But aye have a new papa, a better papa." Her explanation of her own situation was there perhaps to give him some hope. He could find another mother. A replacement. It was so easy in childhood.

Her bracelets jangled gently. "Musik ess what worlds use to communicate. You haft never see drums or geetars?" It was shocking. Eternian life was built on celebrations, and music was such an intricate part of those, that she didn't realize the rest of the world might not understand.



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#8
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HIDE YOUR INNOCENCE BEFORE THEY SEE RIGHT THROUGH
Hi, my name is Jenny, and I have a tendency to disappear for weeks at a time. >_>; wc:354



The news of his mother’s death produced a reaction from the woman that Jackson had seen numerous times before. First there were sad looks and sorry’s, then pats on the head or sympathy nuzzles. As Tlantli reached out to convey her sympathy, the boy stared up at her with wide blue eyes and turned his look of sorrow into a sad smile. While such words and actions were beginning to lose their potency to the boy, he still appreciated them. His sibling may have found such displays of kindness to be annoying, but Jackson knew the people were just being nice. Maybe they didn’t really understand or care, but it was nice for them to say sorry anyway, and Jackson was glad for it. Tlantli was different than the others, though. She said she lost her papa, so she understood what it was like. He tilted his head up and gave a quick lick to her hand to return the gesture. “I’s sorry your papa’s gone too.”


His ears twitched briefly atop his head, and he went back to pawing at his stick once more. “I think I has a new mama. But she’s mean.” He supposed that Naniko was somewhat of a step-mother to him. Papa seemed keen on spending time with her, but Jackson did his best to avoid her when he could. The white-furred leader had been mean to him when he first arrived at Anathema with his father’s friend, and the encounter stuck out vividly in the young boy’s mind. He wished she would just leave them alone. He and Agony and Papa were just fine together, and when Esmeralda finally joined them, that would be all they ever needed.



He pushed the rather somber thoughts from his head and focused instead on her latest question. Communication. Drums. Geetars. He frowned for a moment, trying to concentrate on his memories of New Brunswick. “Drums!” he said brightly. “I ‘member drums, when I was reeeeally little.” He remembered vague beats and shuffling bodies, and not much else. But that was okay with him. He remembered, and that was the important part.



YOU MUSTN'T DISAPPOINT THEM
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#9
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Though she hadn't expected it, he seemed to feel sorry for the death of the golden coyote's father, though he had died long before the child was even born. Tlantli found that she felt nothing in the way of concern for her father; after all, he was dead and he wouldn't realize if she missed him or not. She'd been so young upon his death that she didn't recall personality. Only appearance. Her head shook slightly as the child spoke, hand patting his smaller head briefly as he moved on. His new mother was mean. It was a shame, really, as he seemed to be such a charming child.

On went the conversation, from parents to music, and she laughed as the spotted boy came to realize what she spoke of when talking about music. He remembered drums, from when he was very small. She gave a single nod. "Drums ahre liek your hartbeat, deed you know? If a group of Luperci sit together, liek aht aye festaval, ahnd drums play, the sound ahft the drums will make their hearts become one." An interesting belief, one that may have proved fact if she had decided to study it. Her attention turned to his stick. "Aye think you could be liek aye musisian. Aye haft never played musik, but many others haft, ahnd many others ahre very good. You could be one aft them."



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#10
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HIDE YOUR INNOCENCE BEFORE THEY SEE RIGHT THROUGH

wc:302



Jackson was glad that the lady didn't as him about his new, mean mama. As upfront as the boy had been with the subject of his family, he didn't like discussing it at length. It brought with it unpleasant feelings and the boy didn't like to harbor those at all. The coyote woman gave him another pat on the head and said nothing. Words weren't needed here, taking up space and time. It was enough for him to know that she understood his feelings, unlike the numerous others who offered their apologies. He decided that he like this lady, with her kind words and gestures and musically clinking jewelery.



She asked if he knew that drums were like a heartbeat, and the boy shook his head. He'd never heard of that before. How could that be? Did drums have hearts too? He listened, wide-eyed, as the woman continued speaking. The boy pictured a group sitting together as she described, ringed around a freshly kindled fire and giving life to the beat of the drums. There was that familiarity to it again, something the boy had likely seen during his first few months but hardly remembered. With the mental image and her explanation, her meaning became clear and the boy began to understand how the drums could be like a heartbeat. "A heartbeat!" he repeated with enthusiasm. She suggested that he could be a musician too, and he was so caught up in the sudden excitement that he nodded furiously in response. The boy leaned down to pick up the stick in his jaws once more. Then he turned to the wall and knocked the stick against it a few more times. The boy turned blue eyes back to Tlantli, tail wagging furiously, searching for a sign of approval from the woman.



YOU MUSTN'T DISAPPOINT THEM
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