The lovely bones

Halo Lykoi · 01-03-2012, 03:07 PM

[html]

sswm 335 set behind the mansion, late afternoon

Depths of scarlet peered through dark curtains of heavy, feminine lashes down to the frozen pond. A good stomp with her foot hasn’t awarded her with a satisfactory crack of broken ice. Were the temperatures so low now? Hands rubbed against her arms, but the chill had yet to dig into her strong bones. Her blood flushed strong through her veins, and kept her comfortably warm. She didn’t feel the desire to retrieve isolating clothing like her half-sibling’s was forced to do to protect against the cold. Despite having grown accustomed to the glorious piece of silk tied around her curved hips, she loathed the idea of putting on clothing that could risk limiting her in any way. As long as it wasn’t strictly necessary, she refused to add more to her usual amount of accessories.

Instead of continuing her short lived attempt to break through the ice of the pond, the woman moved to take advantage of the pure white snow that had fallen during the night. With care, she scooped a handful of snow and rubbed it against the red lines where sharp claws had pierced skin the day before. There were stains of coagulated, maroon blood scattered through her pristine coat as well, and the sooner she cleaned herself up the better. The frozen rain burned against her broken skin, but it was a good fire, she thought. Lips curled with a distinctive smile, and though it would be difficult to hide the rough treatment that had been given her, she was in a rather splendid mood. She didn’t mind the ache at all.

Heavy bangs of dark copper fell into her lovely face as she slowly washed her cuts with clean snow, reminding her that she really did need to lessen the length of her hair. While she liked to keep a heavy fringe and some length, too-long locks obscured her vision more often than not, and she didn’t appreciate it.

Ezekiel de le Poer · 01-03-2012, 09:23 PM

[html]

The savage in man is never
quite eradicated

Word Count » 557

The journey to the old lands had only taken a few hours, and kept them there for a long day. Coming back had been harder, traveling through fresh fallen snow, but Viggo’s sheer mass allowed for paths to be made. Ezekiel was grateful for the stallion’s size, and upon their return this morning, sent him and Oblak off to rest. As a free-roaming herd within the clan’s boundaries, there was little for them to fear. The horses were smart enough to recognize the borders and linger within them, for their own scents marked such lands and thus as much as they belonged to the coyotes, they belonged to the horses.

Myrika had ridden off with the loose horses trailing behind her, perhaps eager for Eira to join them, and Ezekiel had seen that Kaena was settled. While age had indeed crept up on her, the old woman was hardly any less fiery than a yearling. A part of him suspected that if he were to abandon the clan she herself would claim his title and be welcomed back for it. Some odd sense of respect was still held for the grandmother by all her descendents…especially now that she was a great-grandmother again, as he had come to realize was the case.

Ezekiel had left the building through the kitchen, intending on meeting with Enkiel for an update regarding the various members who had come to the medic with issues. He was cut short by an all too familiar shape, and slowed.

While they quite resembled each other in build and strength, the shift of color between them was a stark one. Ezekiel was golden and bronze, the color of the sun, of metal…and she was a reddish-brown of blood, of earth. Once, they had been equals. Not now, though. He kept himself carefully indifferent to her around meetings, around other clansmen. Only the incident with Cypress had been a slip, but his mood had been quite foul that day and she an easy target. Halo received no quarter from him; it was by his hand alone she yet lived, and he had never let her forget such a thing. It was a double-edged blade, of course. He kept a dragon tethered by keeping her alive. One day, she would turn on him again. He would be ready.

The Aquila advanced easily, no fear present in him. She would not strike now, not with others so close. In public, they had an understanding. A set of amber eyes narrowed, however, upon seeing her pelt. Halo never looked half so disheveled. It was not in her nature, for she was a beast of pride. So what…

Helotes? The scent clung to her fiercely, and he was the only male perhaps capable of besting the woman in combat besides himself. Had they truly been training with such ferocity? He and Max, and even Vesper, often practiced in such manners, but not with the intent to draw blood. There was no need; it only served to slow progress. The Aquila closed the distance between them and eyed her wounds with a frown. “Training, eh?” His gaze drifted towards her own. While it was not a challenge of dominance, his wolfish blood always implied such things. Coyotes were less demanding of such submission, as long as their own internal rules were followed.

Halo Lykoi · 01-04-2012, 09:46 AM

[html]

sswm 1087

Was it her hot blood that insisted to turn the wet lines burn with fire instead of cold? The hybrid’s exotic appearance allowed her to draw conclusions of pride, and the thought herself to be closely related to the creature of gold, crawling through a deep red sky. It pleased her to think herself mightier than others. Although these shallowly drawn lines on her body were proving another truth not as exhilarating and unique, they were nothing. In fact, although they would be unfavourable to her splendid appearance during their short existence before new, healthy skin would bind the lines together, the ability to appreciate the memory in the flesh was most prominent. What were a few scratches? She had received far more in return, she thought, hoped.

Pristine white turned watery within her creamy palms, and absorbed an innocent pink appearance as dry knots of blood were coached out of her silky coat. It was the only disadvantage she found in her fascination with the red matter. It could leave such a mess, was one not careful. And, depending on the material, there was always the possibility of a long lasting stain. She couldn’t have that. It was necessary to keep a lovely appearance up despite unfavourable cuts and bruises here and there. Her rank encouraged her to join with violence, and there was no shame in the fact that she had allowed another’s claws to cut into the softness of her skin. They were results of her aggression, and it had been necessary for her to mark the darker male as hers, even if he wasn’t.

For her darker purpose, she had her hopes up, and did not wish for damage control. The approaching footsteps did not belong to a woman, but a man she loved to hate. Those were two magnificent feelings on each their side of the coin though. Her handful of snow sweated against the woman’s merciless fingers, curling fist-like and pressing the already hard packed snow into harder, forced ice. The stream of merry drops leaped from her clutched hand, wasted. How unfortunate that their paths were to cross. The two of them played their roles well, and interaction was not something they sought out. Or so was her belief. Though it was Ezekiel that was the one in the habit of showing up near her, always seemed to run into her while on his way somewhere else. Coincidence?

Teeth grinded together for a moment before carefully closed lips, though the tension in her jaw was there to let him know how uncomfortable he made her, if he decided to look. She didn’t move to acknowledge his presence straight away, though as he closed in, she was forced to adjust her body language, and cage herself of the free grace she wore when the Aquila wasn’t around. It was only he she had to answer for, but she knew well that this might be about to change. Although she didn’t have the sense of control over the clan as she had in the past, she had of course taken note of the changing standings within the hierarchy. But there was nothing she could, except spin her web and hope the right individuals got caught by cruel threads.

Perhaps Ezekiel would have sought to harshly put her in her place, had he known, but he didn’t. And, even if he did understand her unkind intentions, how could he dare to judge her for feeling this way? She felt forced to act because he rewarded temporary appearances and short-lived dedication for a short lifetime of loyalty and unfaltering dedication. Why did the man insist on closing his eyes to the ones that did not belong here? Hot, bloodied eyes bubbled with the emotion of her negative thoughts, but she didn’t lift her gaze to inspect if the stern appearance on his face had changed any after the most recent clan meeting.

His voice made soft ears twitch with the sound, as if it had been most unexpected. Why the fuck did he bother? What alliance there could have been between the blonde and the brunette had been broken long ago, and she wasn’t interested in sorting through the pieces and mend them with the magic of friendship and rainbows. No, the petite looking Triarii thought it more likely that he was ere to shun her, for whatever. It didn’t fucking matter. Scarlet hues darted to trace the outline of his form. She was fairly certain that she could take him, when the time was right and she wasn’t stuck in her most unflavoured form. But the thought of another challenge wasn’t prominent on her mind. It was the same as pressing her face against the glass of a jewellery shop. She might ache for the pretty things she saw, but it didn’t mean she would be able to afford them, nor could it be promised that they would match her colours.

He could believe her new markings had come from training, if he chose. She didn’t give a damn what he thought. The ruby hues of her eyes could have been appreciative and hungry had their relationship been something different. He had been the first inspirational source she had found, once she had found Inferni at last as a young girl. Alas, a small eternity had passed since then, and she scarcely remembered it. But her body was internally marked as well, and it would take time before the exhilarated heat in her blood to drop to more normal levels. She didn’t have much more face to lose in his presence either, and there were none in immediate closeness to overhear their words. Only in this sense, she was liberated when with him. She had already lost all when she had lost the challenge.

The worst of the initial tension left her face, so to ensure that it stayed rather pretty despite her lack of love for this man. Although her soul was dark and wicked, her shell alone was sweet and innocent without the intensity of angered eyes. ”Do you hate me, Ezekiel?” It made sense for him to loathe her as she did him. But why did he bother to keep her around? Was there already a plot in motion to remove her from her place once Helotes’ training drew closer to an end?

Ezekiel de le Poer · 01-04-2012, 11:00 PM

[html]

The savage in man is never
quite eradicated

He is only assuming that she and Helotes slept together, as a note. :>

Word Count » 868

Ezekiel often suspected that Halo, as he believed the rest of Inferni did, underestimated him. He was not his father—his deeds were not backed by brute strength alone, but a savaged and cunning thing that had grown out of desperation. Paranoia and hate had sunk in from broken ribs and an eye that should have gone blind, from the battle that had nearly cost him his life. Seeds grew in fertile soil; he had seen and faced a thousand demons since then, each more terrible than the last. A blackness, a wrongness seeped into his heart and soul. Long ago, Ezekiel had turned cannibal. This was hell. What more could he do to survive?

Yet he smiled at her so plainly, so honestly, that it was hard to imagine such a thing. Here was a beast wearing a mask shaped by years of false promises, of broken hearted vows and betrayal. Did one see cruelty on his face? No. Slips occurred, around the eyes, around the scars, but who did not have scars these days? The blonde man might have regarded her as if she was his sister, for the look of familiar delight he gave her. This was why he was even more dangerous than his father, than his sister, than this warrior-woman before him. Ezekiel could lie, and he could lie so well that one might overlook it for truth. It was because, he had realized, he was underestimated. He did not ooze the slickness that fell from Sirius, who was a bold-faced liar and a talented one at that. He did not reek of arrogance like Halo. No, he was a man overlooked…and he had come to realize that the more these people thought of him as weak, or stupid, the easier it would be to tear their eyes out.

Well-trained eyes could see her body respond to his presence. She forced some stance of submission in her movements, but it was done crudely, as if she had never known such a demand. How different she was to him now. Once, a long time ago, he would have lifted her high and seen the world crumble before them. She had proven to him her intentions were not so grand. Like all women, she was petty and weak in such ways. Me, not us, not we. He supposed this too, was natural. Women were scorpions. He had once heard a story of such a creature, who had promised not to sting the beast that carried it across the water…yet it had, for this was its nature. Such lessons were not lost on a boy who had read of horrors laid out in wars and hellfire and the great and terrible wrath of This Our Lord.

He had read a thousand tales, within the Bible and the books gathered from abandoned cities, that told him of such things. Hell was a place of hierarchy and devils a thousand, each with names and faces and roles assigned to them. He knew how to hunt, interrogate, and confirm the presence of witches. Invocations lingered in these holy words, scrawled in Latin so that those of God’s Hand might best understand them. While the belief passed on by Gabriel had not been a domineering one, Ezekiel had clung to it with desperation. The possibility that such evils came from within alone was terrifying. The possibility that he could not one day confess and purge himself doubly so; he was a sinner through a through, and he would see a thousand more darkness and deaths before the end of days.

Though her face was crafted with careful lines and careful drawn marks, he sensed the underlying tone of it. How could he not, when he did the same? Inside of himself a ghost roared and demanded to sate its hunger, to feast upon her as well he should have a millennium ago. Yet he had let her live. He, even then, knew that there was a need for her. So what if she conspired and tried to run laps around him now? Did she think he did not listen to the birds, to those lesser people that she paid no mind?

She had marks on her in such places, though, that even a man who had not been with a woman in years could imagine their source. Even if they had not slept together, she and this warrior of his, the coyote’s mind spun with the thought. It was not one of delight, or even envy. It was one of the conspirator and one of the cannibal ghost within that saw now how to exploit such a situation. He said nothing of her liaison, nothing of the way she carefully overstepped confirming such a simple question, and smiled at her yet.

“Do you think I should? You and I both know you’re far too valuable to be cast aside, even if I did.” His eyes glimmered darkly, and closed as he shrugged once. “Did my father ever tell you about our God, Halo?” He asked suddenly, looking at her. Speaking her name made his lips draw back from his teeth slightly, the tips of ivory daggers glinting beyond black lips.

Halo Lykoi · 01-09-2012, 01:38 AM

[html]

sorry for superfail length, but i blame sswm and I loves this thread and wanted to reply, so there.

Red tones seemed attracted to his frame, though the woman herself was not. It was unfortunate that he’d found her in her current state. Numb hands scoped up more snow, this time placing a fair amount of white on top of her injured shoulder, and it took only a moment before pink soaked into it and ruined the pristine blue-white. According to the screams from inflamed nerves, there shouldn’t even be a shoulder left. But it was pain and that was something she was able to handle. Familiarity didn’t worry her, and despite appearance and feel, the puncture wounds would heal and fade away behind the warmth of her exquisite pelt.

”You shouldn’t,” the she-dragon smiled; a simple though beautiful lie. It was a question she shouldn’t have asked, but regret served no purpose. Once he had been someone she had looked up to with fire in her eyes. Now, the fire was fuelled by other emotions—darker. Well-sized, copper wrapped ears shrugged as he mentioned God. She was careful not to adjust her relaxed yet dutifully submissive frame. ”Does my Aquila have a message he wishes to express?” However, the purity of her smile lost its brilliance, as upper lip lifted just slightly to reveal one elongated canine.

Ezekiel de le Poer · 01-12-2012, 06:17 PM

[html]

The savage in man is never
quite eradicated

Short posts are easier for me to write, lolol. UNLIKE SOME PEOPLE, GOSH.

Word Count » 394

One might think (as he would come to see not long from this moment) that Ezekiel and Halo were creatures who might have bound themselves together. Both were beautiful in a savage, terrible way, and both in a physical condition better-than-average. For these reasons alone, these surface-given truths, they might have produced children with genes and abilities to match and surpass their own. Yet inside of them lingered beasts; a dragon and a cannibal ghost could not suffer each other to live, nor could one consume the other. She had tried. Ezekiel had driven his point to the bone, though he had not taken her life—she was indebted to him in this way, and thus a tool like the rest of those who served under the flag of Inferni.

She smiled to show it was a lie, and he smiled to show he knew it. There was no honesty between them in words, but in body, oh how plainly they spoke. He admired her tenacity even if it infuriated him, even if it filled his mind with paranoia and caused his stomach to doubt what he knew. A single tooth gleamed out from her mouth, and he smiled and curled his whiskers up to show his own teeth. Instinctively, his tail bristled and turned brush-bottle—but he did not raise his voice or his hand to quell her insubordination. In fact, his voice was downright low and lovely all things considered. The silent rage was something he had learned to live with, the shadow to his sister’s violent outbursts.

“My God is one of love, dear Halo. It gives me no power to hate you. Whose hatred is covered by deceit, his wickedness shall be shewed before the whole congregation.,” he quoted, eyes gleaming. Daggers laced his words, a warning despite his own intentions. Did she suspect he imagined her to be forming a coup? Perhaps now, when he could smell the man on her. As if reminded of this: “Where did Helotes run off to? I suspect his wounds are far worse than yours. They should be looked at before an infection strikes.” Another flat smile, another word laced with two meanings. He so badly wished to see the color of her soul, though he imagined that, like her father, it would be black when he tore it from her belly.

Halo Lykoi · 01-21-2012, 06:56 PM

[html]

>:|

”I'm not interested in listening to your religious passages,” the foul woman spoke as she turned her face fully from her superior. She’d rather spend these few more moments of afternoon on her own and her pain. Her mind pushed away his words, for she didn’t want to interpret what lay beyond the quote. Ezekiel could do whatever he wanted, as long as she didn’t have to be around to deal with it. She enjoyed the belief that she had a say in this matter. In a sense, she knew it was likely that she was waiting for the inevitable. She had unleashed once and only once, but that was enough. Soon, she expected, he would force her to bite his hand.

She also loathed how he stuck his nose into affairs where it didn’t belong. ”I’m not the clan’s babysitter, Ezekiel.” she responded, keeping her pupils away from his form to avoid falling further into their gradual display of superiority. She didn’t hold the position to win such a game, but it wasn’t possible for her to lay down so easily, belly-up. ”If his wounds trouble him, he should be bright enough to go to Enkiel on his own. I certainly don’t care.”

She could care more about the Hydra’s current condition and whereabouts, but in a way, she was in a fuck-all mood. Helotes had only come to her for one thing, and she had only accepted in the hope that a message would be received by a most disrespectful rat-woman. Truly, had Zana just managed to hold her useless tongue, Halo would not have lifted a finger. She had even been kind enough to issue a warning, though unfortunately little miss pygmy has decided to ignore it and go ahead with her ruthless behaviour.

Ezekiel de le Poer · 02-05-2012, 02:13 PM

[html]

The savage in man is never
quite eradicated

Word Count »

Few understood the need or the reason for his faith. A man of science would have scoffed; they were primitive things, these canines, and what good did hope do for them? He had never heard the Voice or seen a vision, but there was a desire within him to believe that what he did here ultimately mattered. As it stood, he had little to ground him to this place otherwise—if he truly did not care for things like responsibility and duty he would have fled Inferni and gone after the sister who abandoned him thrice over now.

So the golden coyote continued to smile that thing, embittered thing, and quite enjoyed watching her squirm. She hated him; this he believed. Perhaps one day he would understand why, and seek the sort of madness that drove her to hate those whose simple sin was to break away from a place that could not bind them. Weakness still lived in Inferni; they lacked the common unity that came from a singular enemy.

“See to your own, then,” he commented, amber eyes roving over the wounds on her body. “It would be a shame if anything happened to you,” the coyote echoed, and moved to leave her. He walked without true hurry, though his pace was brisk. It was time to sort things out himself.

Login




Remember me Lost Password?