[M] Open for Discussion

Shawchert Menue · 01-01-2012, 12:42 PM

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WARNING: This thread contains material exceeding the general board rating of PG-13. It may contain very strong language, drug usage, graphic violence, or graphic sexual content. Reader discretion is advised.

WC: 350 OOC: Set in middle of Ethereal Eclipse, mid day?

He couldn’t stand the pack right now. And he wanted to move out a little further to see if Liam had shown his face near the area, he didn’t want Liam even in the Ethereal Eclipse, in which encircled Cercatori. It was a great place for anyone to hide so he moved through the forest, his ears perked for sounds of the monster. He did start feeling a bit better now that he was away from the pack. It seemed to release some tension he had, though he was still tired from lack of sleep. He had nightmares at night of his son, and Tamari, of Argul and Liam going after Orin, or Skye, or even Sky then there was Erzulie and Juliet. Those made him wake up screaming at night. He had been haunted by these dreams since he had let the stupid idiot go and he was kicking himself still for listening to Taliesin... well actually he listened to Skye who had told him to stop but it was Tal’s fault. She would have let Shaw kill the murdering bastard... He kicked a rock. Trying to get his mind off the whole ordeal. But what came was just as bad. Orin had left him. He was a desease to women. He couldn’t find a mate even if he tried. He couldn’t help but still love the white woman, and thought about her constantly.

So to try to get his mind off the two sore subjects he brought his hands to his flute. He was not so careless with it as he had once been just using it around wherever he went without a care. Things weren’t so simple anymore, but if Liam were around and heard the sound of Shaw’s flute, well it would serve a reminder that Shawchert was always watching, so taking up the flute he started to play a slow sad song. Moving through the forest, though not blind. He was still able to hear more than it would seem with the flute, as he was use to playing far more loud, upbeat tunes.

Mars Bartholomew Russo · 01-01-2012, 02:08 PM

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ooc: feel free to have Hurricane hit or miss in this first one.

He woke up, finally. He found that it had been harder and harder to wake up, and the ebony male was starting to realize that this was not his body, yet he was merely an extension of the body. The feelings he was feeling were not his own, and he knew this, and he pushed as many of the feelings as he could away, but one of them, the pure rage that Mars felt had only fueled Hurricane. The rage that was there, with the pack of murdering Artist was enough for the beast to emerge, his blood splattered white pants, and his nailed bat in hand. He spoke to no one whom was in Mars' home, not even Krystalle, and definitely not the children. Hurricane was on a mission for his better half, for what reason he did not know, for his thought had never been this organized. However, they were still erratic enough for this to be completely Hurricane. The ebon male had sought out ashes, for his pelt that had been 'bleached' white in his absence (that's what he believed) and he needed to darken it up with the ashes of a wolf, which was preferred, but he would settle for tree ashes and things of that nature as well. Hurricane walked out of Crimson Dreams, his eyes mismatched in pupil size and his shoulder fur raised on end. A sadist grin took his face that screamed 'MURDER'. Excited shivers ran their way up and down his back like workers working on building a train track, their hammers pounding at his spine consecutively to make shivers run up and down. It made his entire ridge on his back stand on end.

Sooner or later he would find himself enough branches and he would build a fire, burning the trees so that he could blacken his pelt, and ultimately cover the stench of Mars Russo, the man that lived in Crimson Dreams. It would take some time to gather the ashes, so he stood and waited for a long time, waiting for the logs to blacken and ash up so that he could roll in it. He waited, and waited, and the more he waited, the more angry he got. He stabbed his claws into a tree while he waited, trying to let out some of the anger he had, though it was nothing like him ripping into the flesh of a fellow Luperci. Hurricane had a feeling he was looking for someone, but who it was, was not the clearest of things. He knew that he was looking for someone big though. That's the only thing he knew. He knew that he knew that, and he followed that instinct. Hurricane did not believe that he was as small as he was either, he thought that he was almost a mountain, which fucked with his perception of things. Size did not matter to him, seeing as he had mated with the woman whom was much shorter than he was, and meaningfully got children out of the ordeal.

Soon he would dose the fire in water, and then he would roll in the mucky tar that was ash. It covered his white fur, dying it black, but anyone who knew what Mars looked like was able to know that it was Mars, just by his scars and tattoos if anything. They might not think it was him if only because his hair was not covered in tree sap, and therefore it laid flat on his head rather than sticking up like it normally did. Once he had been done with covering himself in the ash, he got up and retrieved his bat. The sound of a mournful flute then entered his ears, and he growled lightly, and started to follow the sound, his body moving through the shadows, but his pants more than likely giving him away with the stained blood and the white that it still had on it. He dragged his bat along the ground as well, the sound of crushing snow, and something dragging through it would alert just about anyone. Soon, he would see the flute bearer, and as soon as he saw the tan and red male, he knew that he needed to attack. He did not hesitate, and he picked up his bat and charged straight at the beast. No words, no warning. Hurricane did not need such things.

#738+

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Shawchert Menue · 01-01-2012, 04:30 PM

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WC: 244 OOC: i haven't got to use this table in a while!!

Shawchert played for a while, moving slowly through the forest. His mind clearing a little with the wonderful sound of his flute, but it would end as he heard the footsteps and something … draggin? Then he caught sight of someone, his playing stopped and so did Shawchert. He didn’t think he was in immidiate danger... that was until the blackened man came running after him. Shawchert didn’t recognize him, surely not right away, and with his life in danger as it was right now it mattered little. The smaller man came in swinging, shawchert didnt’ have time to grab for his sword as the club came smashing towards Shaw, he felt something rip off his neck, and heard the splintering of wood, then felt pain as he fell trying to get hit as little as possible. One of the spikes had cut open the back of Shaw’s hand but it was nothing, nothing compared to seeing his trusty flute in pieces on the ground. Shawchert rolled out of the way for any more attacks to give him time to pull out his sword. Anger rushed over the large man and he ran at Hurricane his sword ready to throw a blow to the smaller man’s exposed shoulder. Outraged for his faithful flute’s demise and the need for blood as he didn’t get what he wanted from Liam, he still didn’t know who the man before him was. He didn’t care now either.

Mars Bartholomew Russo · 01-04-2012, 08:08 PM

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ooc: No offense to you at all or anything, but could you try to give me posts over 300 words? It gets hard to reply to really small posts. :/

Hurricane was not able to place this anger, for the anger that he held for this being was so complex, so different than anything he ever felt before. This felt more like it was supposed to happen, while the others, they seemed like they were simply just an anger of another being alive, and being well, and this one, well this one was a deeply rooted, desire to destroy this man, to destroy everything he had, even if he did not have anything. First swing, broken flute. Those icy eyes had turned towards the flute if only for a second, because the sound it made was almost like the breaking of a bone, and the way his eyes had become, it was a weird almost fishbowl vision that had things looking slightly different. The icy eyes of the blackened wolfdog (for in all reality, Mars was a wolfdog, more dog than wolf actually) moved back to the beast whom was once his core side's Leader. To Hurricane, this male needed to be dead though, Hurricane knew no leaders, he knew not to protect anyone, he did things for himself, and to make himself feel better about his own life. The sadist fool only made the life that was not his a mess. Poor unlucky Mars. Except for, this whole thing right now, was all because of Mars. If he wasn't such a fucking crackpot mess of a mind anyways, he would not have this problem. Nobody else had this problem, not that he knew of at least. Mars hadn't met another like him. That's why he was always alone.

Hurricane looked at the male's face, the horrified look on it, and he smiled a horrible smile, one of insanity, of a killer, a madman. His fur was still standing on his shoulders, and some of the muck that had clumped in his fur had fallen out by the quick and movements of the male. He let out a mixture of a chuckle, and a snarl, an odd mixture that was much different from the many sounds that Bartholomew and Mars would make themselves. Possibly another trait of the piece of Hurricane that had existed in the male with multiple personalities. The other male had retaliated soon to the broken flute, and Hurricane was slightly unprepared for the sword that came from seemingly nowhere. His reaction time was slightly slow, and it left him with his opposite shoulder shallowly sliced. It hurt like hell though, and Hurricane realized that he needed to be more careful about how he was handling this male. He needed to kill him, but not to get himself killed. Hurricane needed to disarm the beast. That was what he needed to focus on.

Hurricane jumped back twice, putting a slight distance between the two so that he could come back around with another swing of his bat, but this time he had aimed his bat at the hand and the blade that was being held within that hand. If he didn't disarm him, then atleast he'd be able to do something to those fingers so he could not hold the sword. Hurricane could only hope his aim was not as off as the blind captain's cannonball that tried to sink the battle ship only yards away.

#557+

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Shawchert Menue · 01-06-2012, 06:04 AM

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WC:339 OOC: Sorry fight threads are my kriptonite lol trying to work at them hence why shaw needs fight threads lol.

Shawchert was scared, scared and angry. His mind was set on defending himself, but also teaching this mutt a lesson. As he pulled out his sword and went in for his attack, he recognized the man for who he really was, though that was up for debate in Shaw’s mind as he felt flesh on his sword before it was fully deflected away by the large bat. Why was he attacking him? He had done nothing to Mars, he may have been a horrible leader but he had stepped down from that possition long ago! So what was up with him and just attacking him? No words, only growls, and …. other strange noises. Shawchert didn’t ahve time to think about that as the club came swinging at his hand. It would have been spot on if Shawchert hadn’t raised and pulled it in. His sword but getting the attack instead, as he didn’t have the time Though the club was large, it was still faster than the brute anticipated and he felt his sword nearly fly out of his hands.

That was the last thing Shaw wanted to do was lose his sword at a time like this, so he was glad when he mad a save for the sword. Everything as as though in slow motion, but wasn’t. He took a few swipes at Mars. Though if they hit he didn’t know. He just knew he wanted to keep that bat from him, and if he were to do that he would have to keep it busy defending himself. He clenshed his teeth as he made the few sideswipes in hope that he would catch the other man’s side, or arms, something that would make him stop his attacks. He moved in closer as he swung the sword, though leaving his own body exposed with his atacks. Who knew how the black man before him fought, but Shawchert wasn’t aiming to kill like hurricane, no he was aiming to injure and run like the devil.

Mars Bartholomew Russo · 01-10-2012, 06:53 PM

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OOC: blah blah blah WC:423

There were not any other emotions besides anger raging within the male. He was growling and snarling as he had swung his bat at the other male, trying to be careful to not get hit again with that sword. He was feeling the pain, the stinging of the oxygen touching the wound. He growled as his shoulder bled, the red touching the ground, as well as the sword that was still within the hands of the other male. Hurricane stepped back again, and he grunted. There were swipes of the sword that were flying at him, and he kept on moving back, away from the other male, and he hit the bat against the sword to stop it in it's tracks. He was trying to get it to where the sword would get caught in between the rustic nails that protruded from the end of it so that he would be able to jerk the sword away from the male. If Hurricane was able to disarm the being, then he would be able to get in for some close shots. The few times that he was able to clash the club and the sword though, the sword did not get stuck, so Hurricane changed his strategy. He stayed just out of the sword's reach, and when Shawchert had left himself open on his left side, Hurricane was quick to take advantage of that, and he swung the bat towards the male's left side.

Hurricane continued to move back though, the giant was ever advancing as he swung his sword like a blind man swinging his cane. Hurricane was hit with the sword again, a thin line finding it's way across his lower torso, luckily, it was not deep enough to slice open his stomach and let his intestines fall out or anything gross like that. He had jumped back again and again, trying to get away from the giant. Hurricane noticed how slow the male was, so Hurricane quickly moved to the other sides of the male, first to the right, and then a fake out and back to the left, trying to confuse the brute and as he had done this, he had aimed his bat to hit the male wherever he could get to before he would quickly back away, and get out of range of that dangerous sword. Stupid fucking asshole. Nothing but a stupid fucking asshole. A traitor, a Liar. spoke the male, but what he spoke did not make much sense. Even to him.

Shawchert Menue · 01-13-2012, 05:01 PM

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WC: 378 OOC: PP ok for ear taketh just don't kill him lol :3

As Shawchert struck at the man, he knew his life was in danger. He knew how to use the club and well, and it seemed that he was trying despirately to disarm Shawchert. Shaw’s swings were well guarded, though only to a point so when he swung at Hurricane, he felt the blow of the club as it smacked right into his side, the claws of it digging harsh into his hip and he grunted in pain, but was relieved that it was pulled back quick as the black sooted male backed away, still wary of Shawchert’s own attacks and this gave shawchert a little hope as he continued to move, though with great pain as he tried blocking and swinging at him. As soon as the words came out of the man’s mouth Shawchert knew who it was, though it was a mask of the voice he knew, and the words were confusing to Shawchert for he was never a traitor, and never lied.... at least not to his pack mates. He blocked the man.... or so he thought. The attack was a feint and the club landed on Shaw’s shoulder, he could feel it dislocate and the pain that seered through it. Even the Adrenaline could not mask that pain, and he fell back with a roar of pain.

He still had his sword in his hand, but he knew this had to be it, he would try to defend himself, but to what, he felt immobilized, his shoulder was in seering pain and he couldn’t move it. He panted heavily, wanting to know why Mars hated him so much. There had been so much animosity for so long, and Shawchert never knew why. Was he truely that bad of a leader, or was there something deeper?

“M-Mars, please”

Shawchert pleaded, he was trying to get to his knees now, his sword in his mobile left arm, though the pain of his left side was hard on him as he moved. His hip, which was already deteriorating from his height and weight, had just taken a blow, so Shawchert was most exposed. He would defend himself, but even he knew that he might not make it out of this fight alive.

Mars Bartholomew Russo · 01-18-2012, 08:05 PM

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OOC: OOC: Yeah Mars' posts get long for little reason. This is a shorty thread i think. You could pretty much wrap it up in your next post can't ya? +10(1063)

Empty Hearts in Empty Places

Score. The giant had been hit with a sharp, raking motion of the bat. A smile found itself sitting on the darkened male's blackened maw. Hurricane let out a deep chuckle as he continued to use what instinct he had to get out of what he had gotten into. He had a disorganized thought pattern that was able to focus on one thing, so he was unpredictable to say the least. He was able to get another hit on the giant, a blow to one of his shoulders, the bat was sure to tear the flesh and fur from the male's body. He roared, and fell back, something that Hurricane did like to see. Those mismatched pupils were on the male as he got to his knees, to plead for mercy. Hurricane put a frown on his face at the words that he used. He begged Mars for mercy. So , he knew Mars. So what? Hurricane snorted, and his lips were drawn back to reveal those sharp fangs of his.

"Mars this, Mars that. I'M NOT MARS!" snarled the beast, taking a daring step forward, towards the kneeling Shawchert, a growl was deep in his throat as he approached the man, and he raised his arm, with his bat, but then he thought of something. He thought of how he wanted a trophy from this giant. Hurricane looked at the man's tan and red ears, and he smiled crookedly. He would have to extract the ear without damaging it with the shredding nature of the bat, so he suddenly dropped the bat, which had made the blue eyes of the other male raise to Hurricane, possibly thinking that he was withdrawing, giving up. This was not true. Oh, how Mars wished it was true, that he was able to come on cue, like a boss, but Hurricane, in the mind, had the bat still, and would threaten if any of the others came close. Not only that, but Mars did not like Shawchert to begin with. Hurricane was the most feral part of Mars, mixed in with something of an intelligence, if a weird one could be claimed.

Hurricane quickly descended upon the being, fangs bared, and an aim straight for the ear of the other male. Hurricane's teeth were able to catch onto the better half of the male's ear and he pulled and gave it the death shake to rip through the flesh of the male's ear. It was very much an instinctive thing, and he would later use the same tactic to take trophies, since the ear did come clean off. He could taste the blood that came from the ear, and it also touched his tongue. It was a curious taste, one that made him cock his head and back away. Hurricane removed the skin and fur from his mouth and he looked at the ear. "Get your damn facts straight. The name's Hurricane, you stupid bastard." growled the male, words that he never would remember coming from his mouth actually doing so. What little did Hurricane realize was that he was slowly losing this battle now though. He looked at the ear again, and then he looked at the male. "If I ever see you again, I'm taking another one of these. Or next time, maybe I'll just kill you and burn your pathetic existence." another threat, him trying to keep control perhaps. He was finding himself really intrigued about the blood he was tasting though, for he had never really...tasted the blood of a wolf, with all of the ones he had killed, he never ate them, or never really had to attack them with teeth. It pretty much was only claws and bat.

Mars then kicked out at shaw's face to knock him over, while he was dealing with the internal struggle that was starting to take place. Some sort of morality that Mars had was starting to actually kick in, and Mars was trying to take back control. Mars couldn't let Shaw be killed by Hurricane, because what happens if Orin finds out. The name echoed in Hurricane's head, and Hurricane snarled at the voice. "Who the fuck?" Hurricane asked, and he looked up at the treetops, as if someone was there. Hurricane shoved the fur and flesh of the other male into his pocket, the blood bleeding through the fabric and dying it red.

Hurricane snorted, and he picked up his bat. He swung at nothing for a minute or two, trying to get Mars and Bartholomew to back away from him, because he could actually see the two wolvens trying to conspire and get control. It didn't work though, because Bartholomew was able to distract him, and Mars kicked him from behind and got him out of driver's seat. To the outside looking in, you would see all action just stop from the body, and then a deep breath, and then a completely new person when the eyes opened back up again. Mars looked at the scene. This had been the first time he had ever been able to wake up in the middle of Hurricane's shenanigans. He was shocked, but for some reason, he felt as if this was to help Mars, rather than to hurt him. Mars slowly backed away, hoping that Shawchert did not realize that he was Mars. He knew that Shawchert did recognize him though. He did not speak, he was frozen there.

The male growled lightly, even as Mars, because he was trying to make Shawchert get up and run away. "I don't ever want to see you here again." the voice was normal, unmasked, but he wore a sneer, and he folded his mismatched ears against his flattened, but messy and dirty hair. His eyes were normal, with the tiny pupils that Mars always seemed to have, and the icy blue was as cold as ever. Mars was unaware of Orin and her issues with Shawchert that he had created, he had no clue of any of what just happened really, but from the looks of it, he was trying to kill Shawchert. "Run away, giant." Mars showed little mercy to Shawchert, he would barely wait for the male to get enough strength to get up and run. He was telling the male to run, because Mars really didn't know how long he had before Hurricane would return.

Mars speaks Bartholomew Speaks Hurricane Speaks

Well when he died, he took a part of you.

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Shawchert Menue · 01-20-2012, 05:46 AM

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541
OOC: Dang shaw is beaten

The second the words came out of his mouth seemed to be the worst thing to say. He could hear the malice in the voice of the wolf before him.... this wasn’t Mars? Did he have a twin brother? But this didn’t matter to Shawchert as he knew his life was in danger. He didn’t know what he did to deserve such treatment, but he knew this was the end of the end. He wouldn’t see his children again. He cringed as the man stepped forward, bat raised but he didn’t continue, in fact he stopped, but this scared Shawchert all the more, though his heart lifted as the man dropped the bat, and he thought he would be allowed to leave, but then the dark male descended upon him and bit. Shawchert yelped a pitiful earsplitting cry as one of his ears was taken and bit off. He couldn’t hold back the tears of pain though he wouldn’t continue to cry, his ear hurting and his mind crying out for help, he knew all was lost. It seemed Mars must have had a brother or something, hurricane who would come to random starengers and attack them? A few faces flashed in Shawchert’s mind, Argul, Liam, a few other loners... so it was entirely plausible that Shawchert would have the worst of luck with random wolves like this one. He heard the threat, and that made him wonder why the wolf, who had an upper hand, would let him leave nowm, but he wasn’t going to argue, he started moving to a standing position.

Before he could get up, he was kicked full in the face and he fell backwards again, holding his bleeding nose, but saw as the Hurricane male started hitting at the air, finding nothing, was he crazy? If Shawchert had enough strength he would have used this to his advantage, but right now it was all he could do to get back up again, and try to move away before he was noticed. He watched the strange act as he pushed himself away a little, out of arms reach first, then saw as the man stopped suddenly and Shawchert froze, as though Hurricane wouldn’t see him if he didn’t move or breath. Then the man turned to Shawchert without a word, his eyes seemed different, but he couldn’t imagine what was happening right now. As the man spoke Shawchert gaped, but only for a moment. It was an invitation to go and fast. Shawchert wasn’t one to argue with a little bit of luck. Getting to his feet as best as he could he hurried away, trying to make distance from him and the black and white man. So many questions ran through his mind, and then his wonder with how he couldn’t keep an upper hand. He was well trained and yet... by the looks of him he just got his ass beat by his mother.... a very brutal mother. He moved for as far as he could until the pain of his ear and him running into a tree with his dislocated shoulder brought on shock and he fell to the ground. His only thoughts were, he hoped he got far enough away....

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