[html] OOC: Ok, so this is private for Ezekiel and Helotes until Columbine is dead, and then AW for the rest of IF to check out what happened. WC: 475
He was humming in his strange and high pitched way, and there was a film of madness clouding his red eyes. A twisted smile curled across dark lips as the dusky man prowled nearly silently outside the decrepit mansion, his hands twisting around an oddly sharp rock he must have found in the ground. Columbine Lykoi was a shadow of the boy he used to be. How had someone who had been so fiercely loyal and protective of his family evolved into a creature so twisted and hellbent on power and revenge? If the two had stumbled upon each other in some strange alternate universe, he doubted they would recognize each other as themselves. The struggle for identity - it'd always been one of his greatest problems. Was he Kerberos' son, or punching bag? Was he the protector or the victim? The strange juxtaposition of his roles was the beginning of his descent.
Helotes had never appreciated him. Jacinto had never been worthy. Ilusion never loved him enough. He was never his mother's favorite son, and dios, he'd never been good enough for Kerberos. ¿Me habrías amado si yo fuera diferente, Kerberos? the Hastati murmured, his husky voice riddled with lack of use and ill-disguised sorrow. Columbine was loath to admit it, but he was defeated: the dark man was ruined by his own inadequacies, his own self hatred, and so he would be forced to do something drastic.
Ezekiel was a poor leader as it was. Columbine could not have been the only clansmember who thought that: it was a poorly obvious fact, demonstrated by the appointment of Vesper to a position of power. Vesper! The dyke woman could not be trusted to be anything more than a scout, someone to call for aid if it became too dangerous. The scars that riddled her body told that story, though the little annoying voice that dwelled in the back of his mind reminded him that he looked the same. He didn't even have a chaos star, so ruined as he was by the actions of Kerberos! He could never stop hating that man - that man, that man, that man... He was the reason for all of this, wasn't he?
A loud, yipping, demanding cry flung itself from his mouth before Columbine could realize what he'd done. The call insisted Ezekiel come to him from wherever he lay and face a duel: it was a challenging cry and one that claimed the Infernian leadership as his own. He was a Lykoi, after all, was he not? Ezekiel did not carry the name - de le Poer, he called himself, and regardless of what blood he might carry he was not pure like Columbine, like the true Lykois. And plus, Columbine was infinitely smarter, infinitely stronger, infinitely better suited for the job he would demand as his own.
The meeting had ended only moments ago, and Ezekiel was intent on leaving the Mansion grounds quickly. He disliked lingering in this place, favoring his isolation after dealing with the sum of the clan. While not a man afraid of crowds, they unsettled him still. A loping pace had carried him out to the forest when a cry rose from behind him. It was an unfamiliar voice, but the tone, oh how that tone and its meaning filled every fiber of his blood with fury. Only once before had someone dared to stand against him; the only person he had ever considered a threat.
Yet his paranoia led to preparations. Ezekiel shifted to his Optime form almost instantly, rushing through the next few minutes in a blur. He was unarmed, nude, and full of righteous fury. Sand colored claws extended from red hands as his shoulders straightened. It did not take him long to find the perpetrator; it was the darker, larger brother of the Spanish Lykoi's.
Ezekiel’s lips pulled away from his muzzle, revealing stark white teeth. His eyes gleamed. A rock was in the taller man’s hand, and this was the only threat that he saw. Size hardly overwhelmed him; not after his sister’s fool of a lover. Not that dog, nor any dog of a Lykoi would take his place from him. Only one snarling warning was issued from him. Treason required no mercy.
Naturally, it didn't take long for Ezekiel to appear. How could Columbine have ever thought it would? The entire clan was mere steps away, waiting for the meeting to adjourn. So much had led up to this moment, and it left the cold heart in the man's chest beating faster, faster, ever fucking faster. He hadn't felt this nervous in a long time - the nerves were not something he anticipated, though the dusky man held his head high. An arrogant sneer curled across his lips as umber eyes fell upon the sandy Aquila.
What had led to this point? Was Vesper really worth this? Was proving something to Helotes really worth the danger Columbine was about to put himself in? The sneer deepened as Columbine subtly nodded to assure himself that this was the right decision, and not just an impulsive, spur of the moment sort of deal. Who was Ezekiel, anyway, to be a leader? The sandy man had not sought out the dusky Lykoi, and there lay his problem. The exalted Aquila's greatest danger sat right beneath his too-pointy nose, and the larger man felt his confidence growing as he locked eyes with the obviously furious leader.
Aquila, Columbine sneered, a mocking sort of exalted bow before him. You have proved yourself unworthy, as I suppose you know. I am here to claim your position as my own. His own words turned into a snarl as the significantly larger Lykoi adopted a fighter's position, his impressively muscular body attuned entirely to the blonde male before him. Columbine had no awareness of the gathered crowd, and whatever dangers they might pose. He was here for a reason, and that reason consumed him.
The reason, thankfully, quieted the murmuring voices in his mind.
If you have him attack Zeke, I'll have him disarm Col and then Helotes can come in?
The shadowy beast reeked of madness. It was a smell Ezekiel recognized; it was something akin to dry-rot, a sickly sweet smelling thing that overwhelmed even the repulsive musk of a male ready for a fight. All of the Aquila’s senses were aflame; his attention was focused on this threat alone. There was an advantage in size for Columbine, but Ezekiel had spent his life learning to fight. His smaller stature was a compacted body of muscle, lacking all but the faintest traces of fat from where he had store it for winter.
Amber eyes narrowed at the jeer, and he responded only with silence. When the attack came he would meet it—his body was attuned and prepared, steel springs coiled under a pelt of bronze and gold. Ezekiel was a man trained for combat, and versed in it. While his pelt did not show such terrible scars, this was a lie, much like most of his life. Skilled medicine had kept him from scarring. Skilled medicine had erased half of the scars on his face, deep as they were.
This liar, this king of savages and madmen, would not forgive an offense to his throne or his crown. When the dog came, he would cut him down.
[html] OOC: I apologize for the delay on this! I thought I would have more time as it's Spring break, but I've had less than usual - apparently I have a severe eye infection, so I've been running around trying to get that cleaned up! And that sounds good, I'd like to get Col killed as quickly as possible xD Death posts are the most fun. WC: 316
Ezekiel did not meet his words - perhaps it was because he was too stupid to understand? The sneer that marked his face curled deeper, and a vicious growl came from the madman's throat. There was no shred of sanity in Columbine's umber eyes, no reminder that the hybrid that once lived within this shell of a creature could have been good at some point in his life. For a moment the creature simply considered the soon to be killed Aquila, estimating where the best point of attack would lie. Should he go for the subtle beginnings, engaging the man in basic forms of combat? Or for the direct kill as a show of strength and dominance, as Columbine so clearly held? His hand twitched around the sharp rock he gripped, and the decision was made: the throat would be the first point of attack, and hopefully the last.
He crouched deeper, waiting for the moment in which he could spring and rip the man in two. Separation from the neck - what a terrible, yet quick, way to die! To cut the jugular is to know death and embrace the last few seconds of a pitiful life; Columbine could not wait to see the life slip from unworthy eyes, and feel the metallic liquid on his eager tongue. Blood and pain - it drove the crazed Lykoi man, and his eagerness betrayed him. His thoughts became disorganized as the madness curled around his mind like a cobra, squeezing the life out of his tenuous reason. With a face that spoke of insanity the male leapt forth, jagged stone extended, snarls and growls ripping from his coal colored lips. Columbine intended to reach the man and cut his throat immediately - there would be no need for an overt show of strength. It was simply obvious the Lykoi was superior to this de le Poer mutt.
(322)Gah sorry for the delay. There is a LOT of powerplay in this, but I wanted to move it along--tell me if you want anything changed. Nat, bring your boy in whenever!
A beast that had once sworn its loyalty to him now came armed, calling for blood. Once, it had been a cousin. Now, Ezekiel saw nothing but an animal. He detached himself now as he had before, and let a deep and terrible rage flow forth. Like his father before him, Ezekiel knew the madness of combat; but he was a different man from Gabriel. He was no prodigal son, no philosopher king. He was a savage creature that desired nothing but blood, fire, and silence.
The creature before him prepared for an attack and Ezekiel prepared equally to meet it. He saw the shift in weight as well as he saw the stone. It was obvious. Amber eyes locked on a pair of hellish red and he thought, briefly, of his uncle. Fight as if you intend to kill. Lord help him, he would.
As soon as Columbine leapt forward, Ezekiel moved to meet him. His size forced such a move; small as he was, the Aquila had long worked to develop methods to counter heavier and stronger men. Both of his feet remained light, and on his toes he hit the ground. One elbow struck out, jarring the darker man’s arm. It was enough; Ezekiel grabbed his wrist with extended claws and squeezed at a point taught to him by his own medic. The stone clattered to the ground.
The other shoulder rolled, blocking his throat as his head ducked low. His feet dug into the earth as he slammed his other elbow into the man’s chest, but even this blow did not slow the madman. Ezekiel was forced backwards. A clawed foot struck his leg low and he felt it buckle under the combined weight of their bodies. Instinctively, he positioned himself to fall and hit the ground without damaging himself—but he was now pinned under a beast that outweighed him and fought with only madness in it.
The meeting had ended yet Helotes lingered at the gathering place. He was casually observed as the others milling about eventually began their treks to where ever it was they were going. Helotes enjoyed these gatherings, and they were few and far between. But, when they did occur, it gave him the chance to see Inferni at its full strength, gave him the opportunity to gaze into the faces of the clan-mates that he had never even spoken to. Such was Inferni; so large and diverse that he didn’t even know everyone else that served under Ezekiel.
Helotes’ umber eyes flitted to Zana, who had wandered off a bit with Timori. Helotes gaze was soft, like a glowing coal; she was so beautiful, and he would soon let her know all his hearts and desires. Then his eyes strayed to his siblings; Jacinto and Omni, who looked lovely in her glowing pregnancy. Helotes was glad for them, excited to see what new life they would bring. All in all, the Lykoi’s life seemed to have taken a turn for the better.
But then, like a black crack running through the gleaming joys of his thoughts that high pitched cry rang out. He was not the only one to heart it, others ears perking as well, but he surely, along perhaps with Jacinto, was the one to fully recognize it for what it was. It was the cry of a desperate and hollow creature, one that was at the end of his rope, one that Helotes as one time called brother. And the summons was directed squarely at the Aquila, and there was no mistaking what it’s message was.
Helotes stood immediately, hackles already raised as he ran full sprint towards where the call had been issued. Ezekiel would surely come, no leader would back down from a challenge. But Helotes knew his duty, he was to protect the Aquila with his life. As far as he knew, Ezekiel knew little about Columbine’s battle prowess, but what he must know would not include what Helotes knew so well. Columbine lost all of sense of himself in battle, much like Helotes had done before Halo trained it out of him. There was no feeling of pain or broken bones, only the red hot fire of rage and only the blood-lust. Columbine outweighed Ezekiel nearly two to one, and now that he was being challenged unarmed only made his chances that much more grave. When it came to it, Helotes would not have come so earnestly, if he did not genuinely fear for his leaders life.
And finally he arrived, just in time to see Columbine’s enormous form coming down upon Ezekiel like a heavy cloud. Helotes did not yet see blood, but it would soon come, Columbine’s form obviously made as one to kill. Helotes rushed forward and slipped his arms underneath those of the Hastati’s and with all his strength pulled back, releasing Ezekiel from the brute’s form. Helotes slung the man around then so that he was between the dark male and the Aquila and quickly unsheathed his spear from the strap at his back. He pointed the sharpened, metallic tip at his brother’s chest, "Columbine, what are you-!" But he could not even finish speaking before the male lunged.
With lightning speed, Helotes snapped the sharp tip of his spear off the end as if the bow was nothing but a twig, and, gripping this blade tightly in coiled fist, swung outwards just as the insane male was closer than arm’s length. There was the unique yet subtle sound of metal cutting flesh, and a arching shower of blood as Helotes finished his swing. For a moment it seemed as if the blood had come from the blade itself, but then like a ruby necklace the hot liquid bubbled out of the clean slice through Columbine’s neck.
Wordcount :: +648
template by revo. <3 - Table and code modifications by Alex
The final moments of Columbine Lykoi's life were a blur of color, blood, insanity and treason. He could not stand that the last face he would see was Helotes, conquering him in a final and humiliating manner.
He would die at the hands of the brother he protected and loved fiercely. Yes, it was all coming back to him now in a flood of reason that drowned him as the world slowly spun to white. Attacking Ezekiel and landing on his smaller form before being wrenched off by his self important and muscular brother was a blur, though he knew that it had happened from the blood that poured from his neck. Of course it would be Helotes to deliver his final failure. After all, his dark brother was also the son of Kerberos, and it would only make sense that his father had some hand in his death.
And yet he could not bring himself to hate with the passion he held several seconds before. Frightened umber eyes darted around, desperately seeking the one face he missed the most. Ilusion....Ilusion, he thought though he could not form words, his desperate face seeking the only creature he still loved with a purity of heart that could not be rivaled. Oh, how he had missed her! Columbine hadn't smiled when she was missing, and he rarely smiled when she was around. But the lovely girl was his entire heart, and the doomed organ quickened at the thought of her being alone with only the weaker two brothers to protect her.
Columbine was collapsed on the ground and his moments were numbered. Each precious second ticked away at his unfairly shortened life. He did not want to die - he was not ready, he did not think it was fair - but there was nothing he could do. Helotes took away that option when he sliced through his own brother's neck like soft butter, ignoring all bonds of family in defense of... In defense of what? A mutt? A tawny creature that claimed Kingship when he had done nothing but been born into the role? The Hastati would die with his hubris intact. Perhaps the Gods would punish him for that sin first.
The world was spinning faster, and Columbine knew death stood beside him, waiting to carry the dark man away in its skull and crossbones chariot. With his last vestiges of strength the hanged man lifted his arm to his brother, allowing his hand to waver in the air. Hermano... the bloody creature whispered, fading eyes seeking the other as the brothers clasped hands for one final time.
It lasted several moments, and then the familiar death rattle came.
The shock of pain that rippled along his back was one Ezekiel welcomed. He was snarling, grinning, full of a terrible need to kill this threat to his rule and to his clan. Yet something happened he did not expect; another shape wretched the dark thing from him. Almost instantly Ezekiel scrambled to his feet. Fury emanated from his body, a physical thing that made his fur ripple like black-tipped fire. For an instant he was his father’s son, tooth and nail and all aflame.
Helotes had come armed. He used this weapon, something foreign and forged, to cut through the thick tissue of his brother’s throat. Ezekiel remained still, staring. It should not have ended that way, he though crazily, and a ripple of anger directed itself towards his Hydra. Helotes had done what his rank required, but the internal thread was one that Ezekiel wished to ruin himself. He forced reason to his mind, forced himself to switch from the very apparent fury into a collected, cold mask. Ezekiel was a man of two worlds.
With steady steps, his head high and his posture suggestive of his rank as it rarely was, the coyote watched as the last remaining threat to him from within died. “Hydra,” he said sharply. “If you intend to bury this, do not do so on my land.” His amber eyes lifted to Helotes’ own, cold and clear. This was the only way. “God be with you,” he added, and this was the singular sign of his grace—he could not show weakness so soon, could not thank the man before him for doing what he had done because it was not a defense to be proud of. He said nothing more, but watched; certainly, they would need to talk, but not here. Not now, while hot blood still stained Inferni’s ground.
Helotes watched in restrained horror as the male stumbled and eventually fell before him, his dark fur staining crimson and wet. There was a sickly sucking sound coming from the wound as Columbine attempted to breath. Helotes could do nothing but watch as the maddened coyote look wildly about, until finally a calm seemed to come over him. Columbine’s eyes came to Helotes’ then, and he lifted his arm, calling to him. Helotes recognized his brother then, and grasped his outstretched hand, and watched as his life slipped away from his physical form.
Helotes held onto the hand for a moment longer, his eyes never wavering from the face of Columbine. Then, he felt movement as Ezekiel neared him, but the Hydra did not look up at his leader as he spoke. Instead, he laid the arm across the dead man’s chest, and reached up to close his blank eyes. Helotes closed his eyes with a grimace and laid his large ears flat against his head as Ezekiel finished speaking with a blessing.
The beating of his heart finally began to slow, and he removed the wolf-skin pelt from his back and covered his brother’s body with it. The blood would ruin it, but he did not care, he just wanted to give Columbine some semblance of privacy. Then standing, Helotes finally turned to look at the Aquila, "I will dispose of it." His voice nearly wavering under the extreme emotion now coursing through him, but he saved face.
Then, Helotes became aware of the eyes of the others, but he could not bare to look upon them, instead he pivoted, eyes turned downward, to fetch the clan’s spare horse and cart.
Wordcount :: +282
template by revo. <3 - Table and code modifications by Alex
Word Count → idk :: Aw Ilusion is heartbroken, she can’t stand losing anyone. No even her crazy brother..
The meeting had come and gone and she moved away from the gathering, she looked to everyone she called her pack-mates lightly chuckling at the fact she had not spent too much time within their borders. It was stupid really; she should spend more time with her brothers. With her new sister that was going to bring new life into their family, but she stayed away. She was mourning the loss of her children like she always did in this month; she took the month to get away from everyone so she was not unbearable to be around.
She was walking back to the house when she heard the cry, her heart sank as she recognized who it was. Had he gone mad, she murmured to herself. Her ears flattened again her head as she knew what the call was for, she hoped all she was hearing was nothing but her own imagination. Sadly the movements of her other brother caught her eye, confirming what she was thinking. ”Lumby..” She whispered her body frozen as she watched her brother disappear in the direction of the call. He was going mad, she should have spent more time with him. Maybe, just maybe he would not have snapped.
Her legs regained control as she moved quickly to the sounds of fighting but all the sound then fell, leaving her with a hollow feeling in her chest. Her eyes searched her Aquila as he passed her, his eyes fierce and his stature showing his rank proudly. This just worried her more as he ignored her, her ears perking on her head only to fall once more t the sight her eyes came upon.
”No….” She whispered letting any breeze present take her words away as she shook her head in disbelief. This was a dream, a nightmare. She had to wake up somehow. She watched as Helotes covered their brother in his cloak, showing her that everything was true. She could not wake up from reality. She watched as Helotes got up, looking for something to carry their fallen brother with.
Her body last control as she moved to Helotes only to keep her eyes on the hot blood on the ground under his clothing. She moved to her brother and grabbed his fur trying to not hurt him but she was overwhelmed with sadness, her arms fell to her side as she let her always highly raised head fall to show her sadness. Tears falling from her golden eyes and she moved closer to her living brother. ”No, he can’t be. Tell me this isn’t real Ruddy.. Por favor..” Her words pleaded in a whisper, not caring of anyone saw her like this. She could not stand losing her family; she had lost her babies, her mother and now this. Now she lost her brother. ”no..”
She had not gone far when the dangerous call of the mad man rang out. She pushed Timori back towards the mansion with a snarl before turning back to the place where the meeting had just adjourned. Zana watched as their Aquilla prepared for the challenge but who was challenging him made her freeze. Helotes brother seemed to have come off his rocker and for some reason found fault in their leader's rule. The hair along her back stood on end as she weaved through the gathering towards the scene before her. Her fingers itched, the poison tipped darts she always carried were close at hand but she was torn. She couldn't kill her lover's brother could she.. and what would it prove if another killed him instead of the Aquilla himself. This had been a ranked challenge. She pinned her ears back as the battle began.
She was not prepared for what happened though, she did not believe that Helotes would take the life of his sibling but the dark hued Lykoi did just that. She knew that this was his duty in rank but now it seemed he had gone a step further for the clan, for his leader. She turned her eyes away as he gave the death blow, knowing now that Helotes had nothing more to prove to their lord. She heard the words of Ezekiel after the shock had worn away but she didn't want to stay to watch the aftermath and the gossip start.
With sad eyes she looked to her lover, the grief and distress apparent on his frame, the heavy load he now bore on his shoulders was easy to see. She took a step to follow him, knowing what he had to do and where he was going. Leaving the devastation behind she caught up with Helotes, slipping her small hand in his as she murmured. "You don't have to do this alone.." While she had little liking for his sibling she still loved him. She would not allow him to stand alone when darkness was threatening, not this time.
Sepirah hadn't been far away, out with Angel, the way she usually spent her time recently. She always saw him, and he never seemed to push her away. The dark coated Spaniard's ears picked up as a calling howl came about, calling for their Aquila. Having seen many encounters like this, Angel knew what was coming. He knew that Inferni would end up one member less. And for all his worth he hoped Ezekiel still stood when the sun set that night. And for several reasons. The current Aquila had never done anything to bring about doubt, Angel respected him and that alone was a set reason. But also, because Columbine had been a competitor. They'd stood side by side as Hastati, but Angel had never liked him. Now it was just himself and Max. And while he was still young, the snow coated boy showed promise.
Standing up after a few minutes contemplating, Angel turned to Sepirah, 'Come on, let's go see for ourselves'. Sepirah joined him with a solemn nod. At heart both were eager to know of the result and with a respectful speed they found the site of the commotion. A smile would have appeared on their lips if the situation were different. But for now their sighs of relief were kept internal. Walking over to Helotes, who eyes were down turned, he spoke, 'Lo siento por su pérdida, Helotes. Espero que encuentre la absolución en Dios'.
