bust through the firewall into heaven
#1
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Thread Information
Date: 25 April (backdated)

Setting: Bâtons et Pierres > Halcyon Mountain, just outside of Anathema's borders.

Time: Late afternoon

Character Form: Optime


Word Count » 453 Gory elements in first post, not point of thread and more of an aside, no m-warning but covered via css. :o Highlight to read.

my road to hell is surely paved

Children hadn't come to her yet, but another child had, and this first thing, this yet-unnamed and nebulous idea that existed between herself, Sirius, and a select few other individuals had occupied the majority of her time. However, there was still downtime, still time when the pack did not sit at the forefront of her conscious mind. The sable-hued coyote also thought of her actual children rather than the metaphorical thing that was the pack. Her belly did not swell with them again, despite the attempts she and Larkspur had made, despite the rituals of Misery. She would catch and gut a hundred squirrels if it helped, and she had done just such a thing, though her chosen prey had not been squirrel. She had requested a favor from Sirius, asking the man to help her fell a mountain goat. Larkspur's goats were cared for and domestic; their feral and strong spirit would not do for these purposes.


Now she had what she needed, and the woman hadn't moved very far from the kill site. The goat itself still lay there, torn apart. Its ribs had been separated and its liver rather nearly removed. Eris did not pay attention to those other parts that she did not need. It didn't much matter to her what happened with the corpse, either -- sacrifices could be eaten. The liver was their power, and so long as she had that, the flesh was immaterial to the sable-shaded woman. Her arms were coated with blood, flecks of it splashed onto her face as she leaned forward to this thing. The purple dagger, for once brought along rather than left behind in un-prepared-ness, sliced into it, and Eris pried it apart, inspecting it carefully, insuring it was free of odd coloration or strange deformity. It was, and, pleased, the hybrid looked over its markings, her fingers sliding over its smooth, cold surface. She did this over and over again, her claws drawing lines and scratching through the firm flesh of the organ, shredding it to bits slowly.


Her mind blanked and wandered, giving over to purer thought with the flesh beneath her fingers. Her ears folded back and her eyes-half-lidded. This continued for several long minutes until her claws struck against the stone she'd laid the liver upon, and she looked down in surprise, finding it in pieces beneath her fingers. Salsola would work; they would not fail. But there was something else, something darker lurking in their immediate future. Her ears folded back, troubled, and she looked to the corpse of the goat again, watching as a crow pecked at its flesh. It swallowed the strip of flesh and cawed once, seeming to give her no notice.

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#2
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WC: 385

It occurred to him, sometime between her first mention of the idea and the further discussion of it, that he was not happy. He was content with this life, but it did not challenge him. Anathema did not challenge him. He was going through motions and not living as he had once done. Naniko was a woman with little ability besides her charisma, but that paled when she was compared to others. Theodore was strong, yes, but Larkspur was not blind and so he was aware of the blue-eyed man’s infatuation with Demi. The girl had approached him about lessons not long ago, and while she was a good pupil, he had noticed she spared glances at her intended anytime they had passed.

So this idea had settled back in his mind, in the part that was as clever as it was cruel. He waited. He listened. Larkspur was not stupid by any means, and he saw the potential in this new kingdom. Eris was terribly smart, and she contained magic within her. She would no doubt be followed to the ends of the earth. Her cousin, crafty thing he was, had bewitched their daughter and shown hints of his potential to the brute. The D’Angelo wolf knew he would not be able to follow a weak leader, but he trusted Eris—if only so much. Doubt would remain until he was shown otherwise. After that, his loyalty was infallible. It had become this way with the woman, even if he caught unfamiliar scents on her pelt, even if she spent much of her time with other men. He was utterly devoted to her.

Though rare, he was in his lupus form. A trot carried him through the forest, belly full with the remains of his meal. Salvia and Pandemic had accompanied him but since departed. The two had begun observing his hunts, and soon he would allow them to assist as well. Four legged, he moved with the steady gait of a wolf, strong and fast through the forest his pack owned. The scent of fresh blood rose with the wind, and to it he turned, recognizing the musky scent of goat. When he broke from the thick underbrush and found the woman, her artifacts did not perturb him. He had seen far worse.


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#3
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Word Count » 384

my road to hell is surely paved

The hybrid did not know what to make of this shadow she had seen, this dark and ominous thing now lingering in her. Chartreuse eyes stared at the corpse of the goat unhappily, a scowl plainly displayed on the coal-hued woman's face. There hadn't been anything else to see; she would have seen it. Rarely were things so clear-cut as to give her something to avoid, and even in the certainty of their new home, she did not know why exactly it would work, or how things would play out.


Her fingers were drawn to her lips, licking the remnants of liver from it. She would go to the corpse later, when hunger gnawed at her stomach, but she might not return to the cave shared with Larkspur and the children tonight at all. These things needed to be mulled over, and though the hybrid acted on instinct now rather than guidelines, something in her demanded isolation. The distractions of her children would not do. She loved them dearly, more than she had expected, more than she realized was even possible. It was for them she wanted this new place. Of course, it was primarily a desire for power in its own right that drove her toward this new place -- she would make it how she pleased.


The sound of footsteps drew her attention, and she listened carefully, recognizing them for who they belonged to only when Larkspur was very nearly through the bushes. His lupus form was less known than the Optime form he seemed to prefer, but the hybrid was not bothered by their disparity of form; her chartreuse-shaded eyes flicked to him expectantly, and she smiled toothily, though it faded quickly.


“Good coming our way,” she said simply, rolling her shoulder in a shrug. There was bad, too, though -- the hybrid sat for a moment, wondering if this shade was their lack of children -- perhaps it would persist, despite their efforts. The thought very nearly startled her, though she kept it disguised from her face, instead sending her eyes downcast and her ears folding back.


“Maybe little bit of bad mixed in,” she said, making no further conjecture as to what it was. She didn't know, and if she had been meant to, she would have seen it.

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#4
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He could not see the future; only listen to the voice of the unformed as it whispered sweet nothings from the can tah around his neck. Sometimes it warned him against danger, other times prompting him to aggression, but he would listen to it without question because it came from his god and his Aunt-Mother. Misery had become a ghost once more, and Larkspur wondered if this was due to his own failure to produce children. These doubts clung to him like a shade, though one might never know with his constant appearance of compliance. As a child, he had learned to hide. He still did so as an adult.

She promised good, and staring at her with impassive eyes, Larkspur read her face. She doubted, and she saw the bad in the coming days, and this fed into Larkspur’s own silent angst. He did not approach her, perhaps out of self-defense. Even if they were not mates, in some way he considered her in debt to him—so smelling those strangers who were less than such on her pelt only served to turn him against her. Yet they had produced strong children, and he would continue to strive to do so.

All that mattered, ultimately, was that the old ways were restored.

“That all?” He asked flatly. An unspoken question remained, though he did not know how best to put it forth. English was his second language, and he was barely fluent in that.



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#5
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the world shudders as the worm gets its wings

What little of the future the dark woman could see was murky. Nothing she saw was ever clear-cut, nor mistakable for reality. The closest allegory to what she saw were the hallucinations and wild fancies drawn from the mind by hallucinogenic drugs. Perhaps this was the value in the mushrooms and peyote so cherished by Eterne. They were easy, they were natural -- not everyone could stroke dead flesh and drive themselves to the quiet frenzy she did. Though there were no overt signs of madness on her face, surely it swirled in her head, surely it colored her thoughts and plagued her mind. Spirituality did not begin to explain the fervor for murder that existed within the sable-shaded woman.

Her eyes, brilliant chartreuse-gold, turned on him as he spoke, and widened ever so slightly. Her mouth twitched, lip moving as if to speak, but no noise escaped her throat. Instead, she rolled one shoulder in the ghost of a shrug and simply stared back, gaze as flat and blank and challenging as his own. She did not belong to him, and this thought drifted to the surface of her mind, glaring and underlined and louder than all the rest, between her ears. She dared not voice it, however; the thought stayed where it was, throbbing in her mind as loud as any spoken word, and yet she remained silent.

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#6
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pray to your god, open your heart

Word Count: +3 ●

Once, and only once before the time with Eris, had Larkspur seen the world beyond. He had been young, ignorant, and the visions had nearly driven him mad. By retreating inward, by forgoing the quest for knowledge and living as a savage, he had saved himself. Yet now, now as life had allowed for him to focus less on survival, he had crawled out from that well and begun to change. It was slow, subtle, but it was there. No longer did his eyes stare stupidly, oblivious and devoted to the world as he had once known it. Now he watched with the slowly-growing wisdom of a predator learning his prey through observation.

He felt little for those he called packmates, those he called equal and superior, and he felt little for Eris that was not made by their bond. Love was a frail concept, one he did not understand. He was unsure of how to deal with her womanly behaviors, and this is why he allowed others to do so. Her loyalty to him mattered little, he supposed, just as long as she bore him strong children. It had never been his goal to control her. He might have, had he been his father, had he been taught such things. Misery reinforced only that he needed children and he needed to provide for her—nothing more, nothing less.

After her duties to him (and this meant children, and their rearing) were satisfied, he would care little what or whom she did. “You 'n Sirius leave Anathema a lot,” he finally said, orange eyes passive, unreadable. “Where do y’go?” It was beyond the Dampwoods, and Larkspur did not tread close to Inferni even now. He hated the coyotes and feared the capabilities of the clan, recalling that terrible fire and the fear it had struck within his heart.

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#7
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the world shudders as the worm gets its wings

What secrets she had spun with Sirius were theirs alone for the moment. The coal-hued woman hadn't spoken of their scheme to anyone, though she had been vertiginous with pleasure at the thought of this uprising. It was a quiet and bloodless rebellion, to be certain, but it was one nonetheless -- this was not one packmember sneaking away in the night. She intended to take an entire contingent with her, and it would not do to have their plans unearthed until they were more prepared.

If it were anyone other than Larkspur, she would not have considered speaking on the matter. Yet he had given her children, he had provided for her, and in some twisted way, maybe he did own her -- or at least, part of her, in that he owned half of Salvia, Wretch, and Pandemic. They were his blood as much as hers, and the existence of the children bonded them more surely than any flimsy mateship crafted on words and feelings. Brilliant chartreuse yellow eyes considered him for a long minute, pondering whether he suspected her of adultery and whether he cared, whether he suspected their true intent, and twenty other scenarios.

“We follow the mountain, past the coyotes and to the edge of the water. There's a little thicket there we'd like to call ours soon enough. Will you come?” The question was posed simply and succinctly, and though there was a vague apprehension in her that he might be angry that he hadn't been told sooner, the hybrid thought she knew his answer already.

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#8
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pray to your god, open your heart

Word Count: ●

Orange eyes, stupidly brilliant in the ways of feral beasts, watched her with the same intensity he might study an unfamiliar animal. She was still very much a mystery to him, despite having known her intimately over these past several months. This was why her words surprised him. It did not sound like a trick, and while he wondered if this was not a half-truth, he found the answer was not what he expected. It seemed that the lanky coyote with the emerald eyes had been plotting with the dark witch.

Had he any loyalty to Naniko, he might have found this idea upsetting. Yet she and Teddy had proven ineffective leaders, both giving into temptations of the flesh and balking from their duties. This made them weak. Larkspur saw within this realm of possibilities and answer to his own unhappiness. His ears lifted slightly, betraying this interest. “Yes,” he answered, knowing that to stay without her and without his children would be disastrous. He would not abandon this woman, even if she abandoned him in her heart. “Yer both plannin’ t’lead?” Eris lacked physical strength, but she had earned his respect in many ways. Sirius was different; Larkspur saw him only as a babysitter, and doubted the hybrid’s abilities even now.

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#9
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the world shudders as the worm gets its wings

There was a strange relief in the dark woman at his simple answer, free of ifs and buts and demands. He would follow her, as she thought he would, and they could continue this seemingly fruitless quest for further children. Eris was not so easily discouraged, and the shadowy hybrid did not wish to give up so easily on further children, strong and proud and made of herself and Larkspur. There were others who would suit her nicely, but their blood would not mix together quite so cleanly, she suspected. Sirius was half-coyote, and Ouija, dear to her as he was, was part of a different branch of D'Angelo, one kept distant to Larkspur and Misery both, matching reality to their blood relation. Her hand stretched for him, faltering just an instant as he posed the question, though she continued reaching and stroked the fur of his mane appreciatively, her chartreuse eyes still wandering over him in a guise of pleasure.

“Yes,” she said. It was not whispered in quiet but spoken in confidence. She allowed the following silence to speak what she would not -- Sirius's mind was what had propelled him to leadership rather than his body; without saying, it went that she then valued Larkspur's body over his mind. “You would hold a rank of high esteem, of course,” she added, sniffing this as if it needn't be said; in truth, perhaps it hadn't. Mate or not, father of the leader's children -- for certainly, Eris had presumed the children would accompany her, Larkspur or not -- would hold a high rank in their midst, as per the laws and culture that had begun to take shape between Sirius and herself.

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#10
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pray to your god, open your heart

Word Count: ●

Even as she approached him he saw hesitation, as if he might burst into flame under her touch. This saddened him, for Larkspur recognized his own faults and hated them. He had been an outcast in the Khalif, and looked down upon by Dahlia during Conor’s reign. Even in Anathema, where he did his best to promote the old ways, he was looked upon as a stupid man valued only for his physical skill. When she finally did touch him, he sighed slightly and leaned into her hand. Touch was valued because it was rare from others; only Eris and his children touched him these days.

It did please him to hear her plans for her position, as well as his own. Larkspur did not mind serving, but he disliked the idea of serving so many. His eyes glittered with the unspoken desire for power. Truth of the matter was, Larkspur might have been capable of throwing his weight around and finding himself a rank high up in most packs. He did not desire to lead, though, recognizing it was not something he was capable of. He needed borders and laws to keep him happy. They had none here. “I hope y’two pick wolves better than the other packs I was in did,” he said quietly, the slightest whisper of aggression rising in his tone. “Won’t do to have Sal n’ Pan learn from weakness.”

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#11
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the world shudders as the worm gets its wings

The sable hybrid knew little of leadership; she was experienced only in holding a false sort of power, command over her pseudo-siblings and the canines in Eterne. That was a power given to her only by virtue of Mantus and the other Kimaris canines; it had disappeared as quickly as their favor for her soured. This would be a different beast entirely, and the coal-hued woman did not think it would be so easy as to lift her fingers and command. She needed to earn the respect of those in the pack, or so Sirius had told her. There could be no abuse of power in this place; those under her command would be loved as family.

Of course, They would never equal Salvia, Pandemic, and Wretch, she knew -- maybe even Larkspur and Sirius, too, but they would come closer to her than she had allowed many of these Anathema canines. They would be hers, and she would be bound to them in much the same way. In that way, they would be a web of strength, all as one. She would have no disjointed pieces, though she certainly wasn't stupid enough to expect them all to hold hands and live happily forever after in peace. There would be quarrels and fights to settle eventually, and she anticipated trouble as much as she did success. At his words, she nodded and smiled faintly, her fingers still trailing through his mane. She was unafraid of his aggression, though perhaps she ought to have been -- he outweighed and outmuscled her by a great deal.

“They'll be surrounded by strength and stability. That's what we'll make this place of,” she promised, fully intending to make this so with all of hwer power.

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