Character Name: Grayson
Character Birthdate (including year): September '05
Whether s/he is a regular wolf or a Luperci (not applicable to non-canines): Luperci
Gender: Male
Your e-mail: weatherhaven@peoplepc.com
How did you learn/hear about 'Souls?: Random find
Initial post:
Finally, he had found what he was looking for.
It was the Optime's firm belief that - if luck were indeed to exist - that it was nothing spontaneous, nothing innate, nor was it a gift bestowed by a higher entity or could ever originate from whatever item. Finding the territory hadn't been all that difficult. The scents of wolves laced the land like protruding veins, heavy enough that he knew he was nearing a population despite managing to miss meeting anyone during his long days in the forest.
Finding a pack in his condition would have been quite the feat if he had been someone else, he decided rather smugly. The mystics said that he would be needing a lot of 'luck'.
There's that L-word again.
They kindly tended his wound and then prayed. For him, he remembered. His nostrils still stung from the horrible, disorienting incense that refused to leave his coat, a warm piquant afterthought of the overpowering aroma the mystics constantly shrouded themselves within. Would he always be marked as having contacted that eclectic group by the unnatural spiciness wafting from his ashen coat?
It was an unsettling thought.
But luck! He hadn't needed theirs. Luck. Pah. What a stupid thing to believe in. You made your own luck. You made your own life. It was simple...there was nothing external about it.
The lean Optime hadn't realised he was leaning against a gravestone until a small tickling made him blink down at his elbow, where he saw a bright yellow gardenspider frantically trying to navigate the matted gray hairs. He chuckled, wondering when he had stopped paying attention and entered a cemetary, of all places. With a grunt, the traveller who called himself Grayson pushed himself off, forgetting about the arachnid and the wet crimson imprint he left on the stone. He forgot that he was, essentially, trespassing. He just wanted to find someone, ages-old law be damned.
Besides, they can't kill me if I'm already dead.
No. Not dead. Not yet.
He took a step, then fell quietly into the leafy detritus, slinging a muscular arm over a decrepit statue of what might have once been a gargoyle in an effort to catch himself. His flesh ached over the hard rock, and as his muzzle was pointed at his chest, he caught a hint of something sweet and rotting from beneath the dirty bandages there, lingering on the edges of the spicy incense smell. "Fuck." Gray's other hand clutched listlessly at the burning wound behind the cloth. His arm slipped - he was soon lying on his belly.
"Fuck...luck," he mumbled into the cool decomposing leaves.
Hey! Welcome, and please do not mind Haku, we are all happy to see a new face!
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The smell was always something that burned in his nostrils whenever the first molecule entered his scent chamber. When was the madness going to end? He followed the invisible trail into Flander’s field. If it was a bloody coyote that was out to fuck about more, he would make sure it would never leave the land ever again. The lilium was in his optime form himself for time being, ready to slice and dice with black claws he had inherited from his no longer so dearly beloved mother. He was getting tired of it all, yet he still somewhat followed the shadow’s touch. It was not that entertaining any longer.
The first visible trace he saw was crimson, then simply a feet away, an ashen and crimson wolf with flushed bandages. The chocolate male flickered his ears backwards as blue eyes took in the scene. It was not the smell of flowers combined with blood that created the strange and sickly sweet scent. The male could not help but bare his fangs at the stranger that seemingly had been embraced by the aged creature in stone, then had sunk down to sleep together with dead leaves and wildflowers. What the fuck is this? No, not the friendliest welcome message to a seemingly dying creature. The Dahlia wolf did not even know if he was conscious. Haku was skeptical though, the smell and the looks of the other male. He needed help.
Haku could get help, but not before he knew what this was all about. What was the trespasser doing here, and then, what had happened? They had enough to struggle with here as it was, so he did not take care of a man with a hunting party or deadly grudges following in his footprints. He took care not to lean against the bloody grave stone, but moved sideways closer to the other male, waiting for a reply.
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[<3! ^^]
The position was starting to get uncomfortable. Gray steeled himself, then levered a side of his body with one arm, pushing himself up enough to see the wolf clearly, slimy leaves sticking everywhere. His dark soil-brown eyes squinted suspiciously at the other Optime, whose own earthy form was flickering in and out of existence, as if purposeless, as if a dream. He knew he might be hallucinating - that damn incense was muddling his brain; he couldn't tell if the guy was real by scent alone.
Gods, he hoped he was real. He'd be damned seven times over before Cassos won this round.
The ash male's jaw grit in resolve, a bit of teeth showing, but unaggressively. "What th'fuck does it look like...t'you?" he slurred, breath catching suddenly. Gray lowered his head, clenching and releasing a fist as the pain gradually simmered. Knowing that it was in his best interest to be cordial to the stranger whose door he had just stumbled through, Grayson added more humbly, "Look...I need help. This wound...I've been poisoned. I can't..." Another surge of pain. The fist he had been clenching was slammed into the litter. "...I'll make it worth your while." His unblinking gaze rose and met the intense blue stare.
Promising.
A heart? Ah, I like you already. Slightly power play now, I hope you do not mind.
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Dark eyes stared back a few moments after, as the male pushed himself up a bit and turned his head towards the Dahlia wolf. The gaze was unable to focus properly at its target, and the cocoa and cream coated man flattened his airs completely. Eck. Fangs flashed slightly back at the defeated trespasser in an automatic mirror response to the obvious misery the other male was going through. A tawny ear flickered sharply to take in the response. Normally this would have given the leader some freedom to be nasty, but he could skip that chapter today he supposed. Worth his while or not, Haku had been chilling the whole day, so at least something was happening so that he could keep his mind off other things. Yeah, yeah, the male replied dully as he crunched down beside the apparently poisoned fellah.
The stranger did probably not like what happened next. The Lilium pushed the other over on his back and then took hold of a gray and crimson arm and pulled him up in a simple movement while another arm wrapped around the back. Haku wrinkled his nose as the invisible tidal wave of sickness crashed into his face. He placed the male’s arm around his neck and shoulder while holding on to the wrist. Oh this was oh so very cozy! It did not matter if the male could walk or not, because Haku would drag him along anyway. Poisoned, eh? How? Can you tell me what kind of poison it is? Tell me about your injuries. Some parts were obvious and easy to inspect, but Haku was not a medic. Oh no, so far from it. He needed to know more, and he wanted to male to talk, to not lose his conscious.
Thankfully they were not far from the Berwick town, and the male quickly started to move, one step at the time, but fast enough to make the tour uncomfortable for the male. Anyways, who would poison anyone when it was so much easier and merrier to simply rip out their throat?
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[Yays! and no probs. I hereby give my permission to power game/bunny Grayson for da rest of da thread.]
A low grunt and possibly a curse - the only sounds to escape his throat at the abrupt movement. Gray's neck prickled. He hated feeling so weak. Although the manhandling was a sour frosting smeared on the proverbial cake, it was necessary and he allowed himself to be half dragged through the remains of the human grave markers, his numb legs scrabbling for purchase. His 'saviour' likewise did not appear to be too incredibly enthralled by the fact, but Grayson didn't really care. He would have to resign himself to this and whatever else, if he were to have any chance at all.
This morning, when he had awoken under a sweep of blue-slate clouds boiling over the thick canopy, Gray had first felt the warning effects of a toxin delivered nearly a week prior. An ominous heaviness had settled over him like a suffocating cloak, and a tingling had begun in his fingers. He was feverish, shivering despite his thick pelt and the mild summer temperature. The colours of the forest and sky seemed to blend together, moreso than before, like an amateur watercolor painting. He knew he had to move quickly; if help was not found in the next six hours, he would die. Once in the blood, and depending on the dosage, the plant-based poison took it's time destroying the central nervous system. The victim gradually lost motor control, sometimes even their sanity. The pain could get excruitating. By the time the fever and numbness set in, your moments were few. The immunity Grayson had built to this particular dirty favourite of the assassins from his homeland helped him fight the effects for perhaps a day or so longer than an unexposed wolf would have been able.
Cassos must have thought it would make for some fun, trailing his prey at his leisure, allowing Grayson the mental and physical anguish of a slow and helpless death. Everything was a game to that bastard. But now...now Cassos was likely miles from here, probably dead, though Gray would prefer that his allies had left the brat alive, for reasons of his own.
As he thought about it he realised, not for the first time, that he should never have run. He should have stayed in the clearing they dumped him in and simply waited for them to show up, and faced Cassos. It should have ended there. He had been a coward to run. He had nothing to loose. It should have...
But...he found a pack, hadn't he? Someone who was willing to help him. If Cassos was alive, and if he survived this - which of course, he would - they'd face each other again, on even ground. Maybe he had run sensing it would be a gamble he could win...
His chest was a pit of fire eating away at the bandages. The world was indescribable. The numbness was spreading. Even at their breakneck pace, even as branches and shards of rocks broke the skin on his ankles, as it finally started to rain, Grayson felt very little. There was just the pain, and a vague awareness of a solid form supporting his. He willed his legs to keep moving, wherever they were.
"A gash...my chest." He responded quietly after a minute. His voice, normally guttural, was practically a growl as he forced himself to speak. "In my pouch, there's...a white flower. Th'poison. Antidote...t'be given while I'm unconscious." The pouch he was referring to was on his belt, the sole accessory he wore. A sheath holding a short knife and a bolas accompanied the pouch, which had been sewn on. Any healer worth their salt would recognise the flower for what it was and be able to formulate the life-saving elixir. "We there yet?" he rasped with the merest trace of an odd chuckle.
500+
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A slight tap of appreciation rose in him as the male had not caused additional trouble by trying to push away or reject his rather harsh movements when he had gotten the stranger up from the ground. Of course, Haku was the only salvation the other could hope to find at time being. Haku himself had only been carried there by the unpredictable current, and of course, one must not forget a sensitive nose! The defeated male’s feet mostly dragged along the surface, but it could not be helped, as he was the size of his savior plus a slight bit more. He could always have tried to lift him up on his back, but it was not very far to the first houses in the outskirts of the long dead city.
The rain bribed him endlessly by covering him in numerous of diminutive caresses, cooling the body that was heating up by the heavy burden he was halfway carrying, halfway dragging away deeper into the land named after the cursed flower. The cream sprayed face with the black nose in the center lifted slightly up towards the darkening mood of mother earth, and he let his tongue leap out to catch one of the soothing water drops as he tried to make the decision where to actually dump the KO’ed body. The poison’s nature remained unspoken of, and the only other apparent injury was the chest. Blue eyes wandered down to the crimson chest. Haku had something similar himself, the healed gash running sideways down his chest. There was no Deuce to help them here now, but it was the poison that seemed to be the most fatal.
Antidotes were useful things. Houses as well. Right, left, the male took half a second to gaze at the lonely buildings. Aye, soon there. The last breath that carried the words died, but movement turned into life again, and he chose the left building. One was as good as another, he supposed. He dragged the other male inside and laid him gently down on a hideous carpet on the floor in what probably had been the living room. The house was completely empty though. Well, well ,well. Antidote. He mumbled the word as he let his hand enter the pouch and search out a white flower. He had probably seen it before, but he had never taken care to notice the floral life. It was meaningless.
He laid the flower quickly next to the sick male and left his side for a small moment. He took a quick trip outside and called out for his aunt, wherever in the world she was. The possibility that she was away and out of reach was very present, but all things went as they had to. Dush boom bang, and Haku was on the some younger man’s side again. Tell me what to do with the flower. It was a demand. Unconscious, fine enough, but he wanted to know what to do first. Fingers brushed over the crimson painted chest, picking on the bandages. Fuck this building, he wanted some cloth.
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The carpet was threadbare from years of digestion by mites and mildew, and possibly stampeding paws by those who had taken the house for themselves. Gray continued to clench a hand, letting his sharpened claws cut into the soft flesh. Droplets of water clumped his fur with the blood. He was floating. The unforgiving floorboards beneath the pitiful stretch of tasteless carpet went unnoticed.
When the blue-eyed stranger's order floated through, Gray gave him a look that almost asked 'are you kidding me?' He grimaced and swallowed, closing eyes which had become worthless as all they offered him were confusing shadows. "Grind th'stamen - th'pointy thing stickin' out...in half'a cup of water. Must be exactly...half'a cup. Then...there is a mushroom. Tiny. Blue. Grows on trees, like a scale. Can't miss it." He paused after the recital, ignoring the frightening ghostly blobs that were converging on him behind his lids; the voices whispering in the background.
"Find one...squeeze the liquid outta it, in-into the water, then apply directly...into m'bloodstream. But wash your hands afterward. 'S'poisonous, right 'nough." And there went the last of the lucidity.
For he was no longer floating, but tilting. Grayson slammed a hand on the floor with surprising strength for someone in his condition, the force reverberating briefly in the wood. An attempt to stabalise himself, but he kept tilting anyway. "I'm going t'fall off!" He yelled in alarm, eyes clamped shut and arms splayed, muscles trembling. There was an ocean waiting, a black ocean. Black as ink. Faces swimming in it. He was going to fall right into that ocean, those faces.
Gotcha, gloated a familiar tone.
"No...No. Ya don't. Ya've lost." Clearly, Grayson nearly had the having-to-be-unconscious part covered. His head rocked, whiskers, lips, and brow twitching spasmodically as he fought off whatever demons descended upon him in his dark night.
500+++ Also, I live in Europe, and it is way late (4.am), so, I do apologize if this post just.. does not make much sense.
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Oh, crap, he wanted Susquehanna here. Even at this time he allowed himself to let his thoughts dance in childish rhythms. Bleh. Blue. Whatever. He absorbed the words that were spoken, then he turned his back to the dying optime and left the building. Back to the trees. Tiny small blue stupid things, wasn’t that so? Annoyance seeped into his system as Haku’s version of poison for time being. He felt so bloody ridiculous knowing shit, running around glaring at trees. He was at his third tree when he figured he actually was looking at the mushroom, and he sliced off the utter skin of the tree, just to make a bold point out of his frustration. Merely because he could, he visited a couple of buildings to gather what he meant he needed, plus a cup, because he had been retarded and not checked again if the trespasser had brought one of his own with him.
The Lilium’s fur rose by instinct as a yell escaped from the living room, but the man’s face broke into a choked laughter. Of course, it had to be terrible, and this was all a life and death thing, but .. He could not point his finger at it. Noo noo, someone had lost. Hallucinations. No problem with the unconscious part then. Pointy thing sticking out, check, right, water in the cup would be nice. Swish, boom, Haku was back with water. So, flower with pointy thing, he followed the odd instruction given by the dazed male, taking care to squeeze out the liquid. The stranger had said one, but they were so small.. No, okay, he would just take one.
One should think that it would smell good with both flower and mushroom in it, but.. Well, Haku was not fond of perfumes and all that. He was too simple. Yet, he surprised himself today too, as he had every day the last weeks. He was helping this man. It was not like him. The thought came to him first now. What would have been typical for the chocolate male to do, would actually have been to sit and watch the stranger die, just to see the soul depart from the body with the last breath. The male poked the other canine a few times. First arm, then face, then a last couple of hard pokes on the top of the bandage. Apparently not awake, the only reaction was a moan as he poked the gash. God, he felt stupid. He felt like a child.
Directly into his bloodstream. Well, that was the single thing he trusted would not be a problem. He had seen his aunt in action, and he had been so extremely fortunate to actually find a hypodermic needle. It was too small to room all the liquid, but it could probably be used several times. It was the only option he could think of. Directly into the blood, mhmm. He did as his family member had done when he had watched her do her magic, but he skipped the shaving of pelt on the small area and the antibacterial liquid. Three times he plunged the needle into the male’s arm(other places were probably even better, but he did as best he could.).
There, nothing more he could do now about the poison part. It would not surprise the male if the other died anyway. Maybe he should have used the liquid of two mushrooms, just to be sure. The rain had increased in strength and was diving to the earth like bombs. Hands were wiped clean by the storming water within moments by simply holding the hands out from the door. He used the opportunity to let his hand groom through his mane, and the fingers dug into the too heated fur in his neck.
The bloody bandages were removed and the gash somewhat cleaned with a wet piece of cloth that might had been a towel before he ripped it into smaller pieces. Then fresh bandage were added, several rounds. He was not a doctor, but it was now a dramatically lesser chance for the wound to catch infections. The pack’s medic would have to do things properly whenever she arrived, if the guy still lived. Haku sat down with his back against the wall and gave a deep sigh. It was raining and the day would soon be over anyway. It could not hurt to stay here together with the sick canine. The werewolf crossed his arms and closed his eyes before opening them again, awake as always.
More mushroom? he could hear himself ask. Silly Haku.
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[Wouldn't that be 'way early'? :p *shot* Nah, it was awesome. I'm going to use my ability to manipulate space-time and warp this ahead a few or so hours. I can change it if you want though.]
"Thank you."
The scratchy voice was a modicum above inaudible. He didn't know if the other man had hung around; his vision apparently had not returned, and the acrid incense spice and unusually powerful sweep of new rain and mouldy walls once again hindered his nose. He had his ears, hearing nothing but the cold water pounding the broken pavement beyond the open door, and his sense of touch of course - but that was muted. Grayson squirmed against the carpet, hissing when the gash pulled. The pain was good.
The concoction Dahlia de Mai's Head Scout had prepared coursed still in the gray male's body, lending him his precious little life. Time had passed since the administration, although of how much he was uncertain. Their place in time, as well, he could not discern. How long had he been out? Gray only remembered a wash of dim colour that could have either been the real world, or the dreamed. He could remember...talking about the antidote, the tones from his throat sounding too far away. He remembered the yellow spider.
He swallowed thickly, unseeing eyes staring blankly at the ceiling fan. He tried not to think about the eerie familiarity of blindness.
"Name's Grays'n," he introduced quietly, just in case he wasn't alone. He had an inkling he wasn't. "...Or just Gray."
Fine! Early! =D
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The male did not answer. Oh, well. There was nothing else to do but wait. If The male died, Haku would dispose of the body straight away. Who knew, he did not doubt one or more of the members would have thought he was the guilty one no matter what he had to tell. Oh, was this Haku starting to feel slightly paranoid? He had never seemed to care about silly thoughts from silly creatures, so why start with it now? It was that goddamn girl.. Screw females. Skyblue eyes hid behind thin eyelids, and he let his thought dance freely and hide the world away. The dark voice inside his head had been silent for a while. Last incident had been the red eyed ghost that had brought him and Firefly to the innocent coyote. That coyote had been slaughtered. He had liked it, he had liked to see her cruelty, the resemblance between them. It was beautiful.
A voice caused his eyes to shut wide open from his rest. Time had passed, it was darker, but he could not determine how much time had passed sine he had let his mind drift off into the clouds. Grays’n, Grayson. Gray. Aight. So, he was alive after all. One less body to bury, the chocolate coated Lilium supposed. Neither of them did move. I am Haku, you are currently in a pack territory. His voice was slightly darker than he had intended it to be, almost like a warning, but against what, the male could not tell. Feeling better, mate? Better be a bit polite before the more direct and less pleasant questions were to arrive.
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As soon as Hanna heard her nephew's summons, she got up and began gathering the things she could think of she might need and stuffing them into her bag. She was in the infirmary already, so that saved her a little time. The slight note of... not desperation, but a request for her to hurry, made her more assured in her movements. More precise. She gathered needles, antibiotic pads, sterile gauze, and--she glanced around--her needle and horsehair thread, as well as the various packets of herbals that were strewn about the counter. She made yet another mental note to have someone who could write either label them for her or teach her to do so herself. Rushing out the door, she followed her nose to the place where Haku and the stranger were, expecting the worst. She was a bit surprised to see that the grey male had roused somewhat. He didn't look in too bad a condition, though in the failing light she could see a large gash in the man's chest. He didn't seem to be a youngling, nor did he seem old. He was probably around the female's age. She stepped in the building just as the stranger introduced himself. Grayson. Fitting name for the gunmetal pelted one. Her nephew introduced himself and asked if Grayson was feeling better. She intercepted the impending answer. Wait to answer him till I'm finished with you. She crossed to the man's side. I'm Susquehanna, Hanna for short. I'm the pack's medic. What's going on? Her mismatched eyes traveled from one man to the other, not caring who answered as long as answers were given.
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[Short...! D:]
A frown on his face, Gray blinked sluggishly toward the feminine voice, taking in her close scent and authoritative timbre. Truth be told she had startled him, coming out of nowhere like that while his senses were suppressed, but the traveller merely appeared dazed. "I...came t'your border for help." Over the border, more like it. There had been that dangerous undertone in Haku's reply. Grayson made to shift on to his elbows but faltered, a grimace streaking his argent brow. He slowly lowered himself, expression showing nothing but what was to be expected. "I feel...better. Wouldn't be alive if it were not for him," he nodded at where he suspected Haku to be, keeping his gravelly voice level and gently grateful.
Susquehanna. She must have been a healer. What was the first wolf's position in the pack, then?
"Are we in a house?" Must have been. Grass didn't feel like this. He carefully ran a hand over the wound on his chest, noting the fresh bandages that already itched, and exhaled.
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The female arrived late and interrupted it all, taking command without as much as a single greeting. Cream painted darkened by the lack of proper behavior from the lower ranked wolf, family or not. True, they were not too strict in the hierarchy, but he had expected much better from her, as the other male was a trespasser and stranger without knowing anything of the members’ status. He slowly got up and glared obviously at the apothecary of Dahlia. Just because she was a medic did not mean she was the ultimate in command, especially when it was obvious that the other male was outside of any grave danger(it seemed) for time being.
Haku got up on his legs in a flash. He fell silent as the male answered and ended with a question if they were in a house. Yes, an empty building. The Lilium answered quickly and started to walk towards the open door. If the lovely superior lady does not have any questions for me, then I will be outside, waiting eagerly in the hope to be of assistance. His voice was mocking with sharp edges as he strode past the black female without bothering to wait for an answer. What they both chose to make out of this was their own choice, but he placed himself outside on the stairs, instantly getting soaked by the still weeping sky.
He closed his eyes and faced the sky, waiting.
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The female's shoulders sank as Haku strode out the door. She'd not meant to upset him; the medic side of her brain took over and demanded she make sure the situation was secure before niceties. She motioned for Grayson to give her a moment, then walked to the door, finding Haku on the steps. Come inside, Lilium. I didn't mean to snub you, dear, but when a call is put out for the medic, the medic is who arrives, not the Filix, nor the aunt. First priority is finding out what's happening and how I must help. There will be time for niceties after the patient is on his way to recovery. A dark hand subconsciously went to the young man's mane, combing out tangles in a motherly fashion. Come on. Before I have to heal you, too.With a smile and a gentle pat on the shoulder, Hanna turned back inside and walked to Grayson's side. The gash had been covered in rags, but needed cleaned and stitched shut. She turned to her satchel and withdrew several strands of horsehair and the needle she needed, as well as a couple antiseptic pads. She took another section of towel back to the door, wet it thoroughly, squeezed out the excess, then went back to Grayson. Hanna gently removed the bandages, then used her towel to remove some of the dried blood from his chest. She ripped the top off the package of alcohol pads, and gingerly dabbed at the open cut.
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Grayson did not flinch when the alcohol seeped into his wound. The stinging was a far lesser pain than he had the unfortunate fate to experience hours earlier, thus he took it in stride, thankful that the worst had passed. An arm was draped across his eyes...the room was spinning again, he could sense it despite his sightlessness. The vision loss was customary, a side effect of the antidote and probably the original toxin as well. It would return to him, in time. He would have liked to see the faces of these wolves, but that, too, would come in time.
"Nice t'meet you, Susquehanna." The words were calm, if weak, with none of the strained breakable quality of before. Grayson paused to bite his lip as nausea twisted in his gut, despairing of vomiting on the female. Barf was doubtless nothing new to the medic, but nonetheless he'd rather keep whatever was left in his stomach where it belonged. When the moment passed he gave a controlled sigh, focusing his mind into a further state of relative tranquility. A rare moment.
"What...do you call yourselves?" Referring to the pack. He was listening intently for a sign that Haku had recovered from his fit and was back inside, but his ears were full with the downpour and the pounding of his blood.
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