[html] This is thread #4 of my current plot grab bag. Please see the link so you know what's going on!
!@#$%Anselm may have had nerves of steel, but even he was a little on edge here. The old office building, a skyscraper in its own right, was eerie in its state of abandonment. While many of the smaller buildings he had seen appeared to be ravished, plundered, and emptied, this place looked like the humans might just come waltzing back in any second. Some slightly yellowed printer paper was scattered about on the floor, but many of the desks and cubicles were strangely intact.
!@#$%On all fours he tiptoed throughout the streets and paths that wove their way through the office prison blocks, and occasionally he would poke his head inside. Along the walls were poor renditions of meadows, people, and animals, drawn by human children whose parents chose to showcase their silly art at work. He couldn't comprehend the meaning of these pictures, especially since some offices had actual photographs--which were much more accurate in their portrayal of reality. Human families smiling together in fancy dress watched him with strangely vacant eyes. He did not like the feeling at all, and he wasn't even superstitious.
!@#$%Somewhere up on the tenth floor (out of a good fifteen), he reared back on his hind legs and propped himself up against a window sill. The door to this manager's office and been wide open, but the fancy leather chair and golden trinkets on the desk failed to capture his interest as much as the view outside. Only now did he realise how truly high up he was--and it was certainly mind boggling. One ear flicked as he thought he heard something outside, and he now jumped back lightly to the ground and turned about. His ears pressed forward as he scooted underneath the desk and peered, with blood red eyes, out into the hallway from underneath it. Had he really heard something?
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-Steals- 602
How long had it been since their pack meeting now? Almost a month? And the dark male had still not seen any of the action that Haku so fiercely had spoken about, the more days he counted, the more unrealistic and distant this war seemed to become. But then again, he hadn’t been on this land for much longer, so maybe it was all natural, considering he hadn’t bonded with anyone yet. Mew had stolen a little place in his heart, but it wasn’t big the room he had made for her there, he could easily throw her out if he had to.
Sick of always ending up at a beach or by the ocean, the midnight-blue male had taken a different route today, trying to avoid the water as best as he could, he was too tired to worry about getting sand and salt in his pelt again, and the water had started to bore him. The human cities looked like the perfect place to kill off some boredom, but he couldn’t quite say that he was too impressed with their architecture. No wonder they had been doomed, closing themselves up in stone cold buildings, surrounding themselves with false artefacts…shivers ran down his spine. There were though a couple of buildings that fell too his liking, but they were back in Dahila, the nice little cottages in the vineyards, they were still linked to the nature and there were nothing false to them.
Desaevio sniffed the ground outside a building tall as a small mountain, what was the purpose of such large constructions? The ground smelled of nothing and rocks, of insects and death, of garbage…and something else? Something unfamiliar, but at the same time not unknown, another wolf perhaps? Des followed the smell inside the building, usually he didn’t bother with trace hunting, but the last days being so boring, the quick male would do anything to be entertained, even follow a trace of a smell into the unknown.
He had never been inside one of these stone constructions, and as he started to get deeper insider this one he almost regretted it, but at the same time he was intrigued by the many artefacts that surrounded him. He had to be careful and look where he put down his paws, because parts of the flooring were covered in shattered glass. He stopped to sniff again, the scent brought him higher and higher up the building; did it lead to the sky?
Desaevio stopped for a second, his ears flickered. An almost soundless dunk could be heard from upstairs, in a millisecond he had moved almost five feet backwards, bumping into a door behind him; it made an awful squeaking sound that made his ears want to fall off. Then it all went deadly silent, he waited, had it been this quiet before? He felt that the past seconds had transported him in to another dimension, a twisted one. What before had looked like interesting objects, now looked hostile, and the corridor leading up to the stairs looked dark and dangerous. But at the back of his head, the little angry voice was trying to push him forwards, the little voice who always had been in lead of him during his many battles and many hunts. Slowly he was convinced, and with sneaky and careful steps the dark warrior with the bloody eyes emerged, moving towards the stairs, towards the origin of the scent that had led him here in the first place. The little voice was now in charge.
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!@#$%A little lubricating oil may have made all the difference, but the maintenance crew that walked these halls and addressed issues like squeaky doors had fallen years ago. Left to the hands of time alone, things here were anything but smooth. Anselm felt himself exhale as the creak died down--it was below him, still, and he doubted that it was the wind. For such large paws he now moved with remarkable silence and grace, and he took several steps back and then wound his way around to the front of the desk, over along the wall, and finally to the front door of the office. Whoever it was, he was not going to get stuck or cornered inside.
!@#$%Unlike the nameless spirit below, Anselm had all too much experience with these kinds of buildings. He understood that the floors all followed a similar pattern--he knew where the fire escape stairs were (how he'd gotten here), he knew where the useless elevator shafts were, and he knew where the main stairs were. He could tell where the floor was weaker (although not shifted, it was not so much of a concern), and he had some sense of how support beams worked. He could look at a building's exterior and know if it had been structurally compromised to a degree where it was unsafe. This one had looked relatively okay--the roof was still intact. That seemed to be the biggest factor right there.
!@#$%A hollowed-eye portrait of the company's CEO watched as he now quickly trotted along a back hall, then down various corridors. By the end of it, his scent would be just about everywhere--and that was his goal. If it permeated the entire floor, he would be that much harder to pinpoint. Then again, he didn't even know if his "guest" was coming to investigate (or really, why anyone else would be here to begin with, especially this far up). Scooting down one of the hallways that branched off into at least half a dozen cubicles, he crouched down low, mostly obscured by a browned fallen plant and simple distance from the stairs. He could see the entrance to the stairway he had taken, and he would have time to react if he heard anybody coming from the other way. Now it was time to wait--and Anselm was good at waiting games.
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SORRY!!! I’ve been working on this reply the whole weekend, just couldn’t get it right >.< -528-
Slowly, sliky black paws prowled ahead towards the stairs, trying not to abrupt the objects around the dark shadow. Red eyes gleamed in the dark, merely registrating all around them, their focus was only on the staircase in front of them. His head hang low, his nose filtering the scents that hang to tenderly and faint in the air. The hunter, the warrior, all of his senses were at their peak. He nearly didn’t blink, all of his energy was focused on tracking. He could feel a slight throbbing in the back of his head, blood pulsating, nourishing his brain.
With light steps he had started his ascension of the stairs, he noticed that there was a bit more light up there, but he kept his steady going and didn’t submerge to the urge to rush up to escape the darkness. Slowly the brightness of the room above started to reach his face, he squinted his eyes, trying to reduce the amount of light that was seeping through them. He stood still for a couple of minutes at the top of the stairs, trying to orientate, trying to listen for clues, trying to catch the trace of whomever was up there, or what.
Just incase he forgot where he had come from, he squirted in the corner of the stairs. He would continue doing this on every corner he turned, he didn’t want to get lost, or end up walking in circles. Sniffing the ground around him, the midninght-blue male continued his journey further on the floor. For the moment he wasn’t following any particular trace, just trying to understand and trying to memorize his whereabouts. He had only been walking through the main corridor on the previous levels of the building, and had therefore not been exposed to the laborynth of rooms and corridors that existed, but that was about change.
Some rooms were big, some were smaller, and some rooms weren’t rooms at all, just small cubicles that were a part of a larger square. Desaevio sniffed around confused, not necessarily because he was lost, but because of the environment; it made him feel insecure. He sniffed the ground again, walked a little around himself trying to catch the trace he had followed, he hadn’t forgotten about it, the impressions of his surroundings had just confused him so much in the beginning. But he was back on track now.
He smirked a little as he noticed that catching a pure strain of the scent was going to be hard, not just because the smell of the other seemed to be everywhere, but also because there was this rotten cold smell of decaving things around him. He would have to rely on his other three senses; hearing, sight and pure instinct.
Still he stood, only listening, trying to catch the beating of a heart or maybe a bad calculated breath, or just something moving out of an uncomfortable position. But as far as he could hear, there was nothing, only the usual silent noices; the wind creaking in the windows, silently knocking, wanting to get in.
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!@#$%It was a game of cat and mouse, and they were both dogs. The gods couldn't concoct something more delightful if they tried, he reckoned. But, oh, how he was mistaken! He'd now caught the scent of this stranger, and he knew it all too well--Dahlia de Mai. Of course, the thought of tormenting this fellow or taking him out now jumped to the forefront of his mind, but that wasn't twisted enough. Anselm didn't always operate so simply. How much more fun would it be to simply toy with him, to see him panic? In battle one knew the enemy... in this desolate labyrinth, he could become whatever monster he pleased with only a bit of imagination.
!@#$%Wide eyed, he watched as the dark wolf appeared tentatively by the stairs. He seemed disoriented and perhaps a bit confused--once the other glanced away, Anselm scooted off quickly further down the hall. As he moved, he purposefully allowed his shoulder to bump against one of the office doors. It creaked loudly and Anselm grinned. Taking an immediate left into the land of cubicles, he entered one at once and jumped lightly onto the desk. Some papers shuffled around, but he ignored them.
!@#$%What he did next could not be accomplished as gracefully or quietly if he didn't train as religiously as he did. From a standstill, he crouched down low, then sprung up into the air. His momentum carried him over the top of the cubicle and he landed, as predicted, on a desk on the other side. They were all set up similarly enough for him to know that this would work. He now jumped down to the carpeted floor once more and exited the cubicle, only to weave around past another. Following the hallways meant that it would take much longer to get here, rather than leaping over the top. It was a manoeuvre designed to perplex and confuse.
!@#$%Crouching low and becoming deathly silent once more, he tiptoed forward and squinted down the hallway, this time under the cover of a toppled office chair. If he saw Des moving past the hallway toward the creaky door, he'd know his plan had worked. If not, he would just have to pull some more tricks out of his sleeve. His ears pressed forward as he listened intently.
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Sorry for the the spelling, I’ve returned my PC and am awaiting a refund of the money I spent on it so I can buy a new one…so I’m posting from my work, writing on notepad >.< -564-
Danger, danger. But the little voice in the back of his head ignored it. It would not let this body succomb to fear, so while his heart was pumping the adrenaline through his body, the angry voice , his other self, was leading him with curious steps forward in to the grey light
It felt intoxicating, being back in this used role of his. A craftsman by birth, but a hunter for life. The game had just started, and he realized now that the other didn’t want to be found; did he want someone to play with? Or was it all evil trickery? Whatever it was, Des didn’t give it much thought. He felt he could pull out whenever he wanted, and had it not been for the voice, he might not even have walked in to the building.
The other was clearly smart, Des thought, standing with his eyes closed for a second trying to filter out the many old smells and the sounds of silence. A sudden squeek woke him up from his concentration and bloody red eyes burst up, penetrating the surroundings around him. He lowered his head, his ears pierced to his head. A slight growl could be heard coming up from his throat and pressing itself through his teeth. The furr on his back had slightly risen, the defensive position was instinctive.
A door ahead of him was silently taunting him with an awkward gleam that had not been there before. The dusty flooring bare witness to the movement which had happened while he was “blind”, had he been that close to the other? These unfamiliar surroundings were clearly clogging his mind and senses. And though he didn’t want to admit it, they confused him a bit. With his head hanging low, he walked towards the gleaming door. Even though his eyes were fixed on it, he kept on looking to his sides, both for attackers and for clues to where the other might be. He didn’t want anymore surpises. With steady careful steps, not hurrying at all, he neared the door.
Des sniffed the door, and finally he got what he had wanted; a pure sample of the others scent. Another suction of breath, ah yes, he had him. Carefully the dark male let the door open, but without letting his head inside the room, like before, he didn’t take any risks. The grey room looked dead and empty. Cubicle upon cubicle, rows and rows of the same boring “rooms”. He stood there for a couple of seconds, just looking inside the room. But then, as by a mechanicle twist, he turned around. It was too simple, far too simple. He reminded himself that this was a clever one, a trickster. Someone who didn’t want to be found wouldn’t make easy faults like that, if they were afraid, they would lay still, if they wanted to confuse him, well, they would do what this one did; plant false traces.
Had he been four years younger, simple tricks might have done the job confusing him. But years of experience had to count for something. He looked at the door vis a vis the one he had almost walked through, his teeth unsheded, growling. He turned his focus ahead and let his dark shadow pass the doors. He wasn’t stupid either.
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 He had to admit it would have been hilarious if he could have captured the wolf in one of the stupid offices, but he'd honestly doubted that anybody would fall for such a thing (other than a young puppy, maybe). It wasn't like he intended to do much after the fact anyway--he knew better than to strike a cornered beast. Odds were the wolf could shift, too, so it would be trivial for him to transform and use his ever so helpful opposable thumbs to open the door and be free. He wouldn't be stuck there, left to rot, was the point.
Maybe things weren't going that well, but the other growling was enough to elicit a raucous chuckle from him--it was throaty and sounded rather malevolent. Intentionally he projected his voice, and then he went back to moving again. He scooted along the carpet quickly, zigzagging through the cubicles and around to the second staircase. Go on. Chase me, he beckoned, although he said nothing aloud. Let the scent trail do the work; he was biding his time so he could figure out and set up his next "trick."
He moved down the stairway at a dizzying rate, keeping to the outside perimeter so that nobody could see him if they glanced down the centre through all of the stairs. He had a destination in mind, but he was thinking now that if he went that far, Des might give up or use the distance as an opportunity to "escape." Just to be sure, after a couple more floors, he cackled again--and then he leapt over some debris blocking the door to the sixth floor. Four flights down didn't seem too excessive, but he honestly wished to get to the first. Or maybe even the basement.
This floor was a little different, he noticed as he glanced around. Less cubicles, more meeting rooms. One was large enough to have a stage and multiple exits. Obviously, this was where he went next. Crouching down in the rows of seats that were high enough to conceal him not shifted like this, he lay in wait, listening carefully to see if the other wolf was even following him. |
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