Big, friendly giant
#1
Halifax. A lovely city. A place that had always been very lucky for him. How many had he met here? Bart, Light, Drakien, Lorenzo... There were probably more, but Sebastian's memory wasn't all that reliable when it came to his many conquests. He knew he had met plenty of handsome, willing men in Halifax, and that was enough to encourage his return.

Today, he wore black jeans and a black leather, spiked collar. It was practically indecent, but he had hardly ever worn it before. Who knew, perhaps it might attract his kind of company. His everpresent satchel slung around his shoulder, bouncing off his hip with every step. The Italian had chosen to forgo his bow and arrows today, instead carrying his daggers in their sheathes on a leather belt around his slim waist. Fur neatly cleaned and as silkily soft as ever, Sebastian felt himself to be quite a fine-looking specimen on this sunny day, even with the slight chill that began to taint the air.

The Italian sauntered down the Hydrostone district, delicately ambling over the thick roots that had overgrown the roads, peering into cracked windows where they existed to peek into the houses. Most abandoned and left to rot, naturally. The foxy artisan made his way to where the bigger buildings lay, the empty street almost eerie in its silence.
#2
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Word count: 665 // Since you didn't, I'm gonna note here that this is backdated to September 1 :3. I am wordy today! o.o





Jimson had been walking most of the morning, fighting his way through the most recent tangle of thick forest he in which he had found himself. He found himself reminiscing for the forests back home -- the trees here seemed overcrowded, the vegetation thicker and more difficult to get through. At home he might have to worry about disentangling himself from blackberry brambles, but for the most part the woods weren't quite as dense and were a good deal easier to navigate. Or maybe it was just because he was tired -- he'd been walking for the better part of six months, not in any particular hurry, but still on the move most of the time. He had never been any sort of traveler, always staying at home to watch after the sheep or tend to the small garden his family owned. The furthest he'd ever traveled was to the little bazaar his community put on once a month, hauling wool and skin and cheese made from sheep's milk to trade with the other farmers.


He cursed as a vine wrapped itself around the bottom of his staff, which had served more than anything as a walking stick since he left, and jerked at the weapon to try to free it. When his tugs were met with resistance, he gave one might pull and when the stick came loose, crashed to the ground. "Damn it all," he muttered, pulling himself to a sitting position. The great white dog breathed a sigh of relief as he reassured himself that the bow and the quiver full of arrows that had been strapped to his back were all still in one piece. Not that he was any good with the ranged weapons, but he usually managed to strike down enough game to keep from starving to death and if they were broken, he did not know how to make more.


Jimson rose unsteadily and rubbed his rump, his pride wounded. That fall had hurt more than it really should have. The fluffy dog poked his staff around on the ground and was rewarded with patches of concrete that had been consumed by the rabid vegetation up here. City coming up, then. He had been in absolute awe the first time he'd come across the ruins of one of the human urban centers; now they were old hat, although they were useful for scavenging supplies. He continued toward the city with that thought in mind, and soon the forest thinned out and he could see low houses and shops through the trees. He headed toward one of the shops, stepping carefully to avoid tripping over any broken pieces of concrete or stepping on anything sharp. He'd learned that lesson in the first abandoned city, as well, when he'd sliced open one of his paw pads and had spent almost a week nursing the damn thing until he was able to walk again.


Now, peering in through the windows, he found a shop that appeared to have cans and jars on the shelves and let himself into the dusty space through the loose front door that squeaked loudly on its hinges. The sun filtering in through the grimy windows gave him enough light to see by, and he perused the shelves of cans, every once in a while picking one up and depositing it in the messenger bag that hung at his hip. Nearing one of the windows, Jimson accidentally knocked a few cans down in the process of pulling one off the shelf. He sighed and bent, gathering the cans in his arms. When he straightened back up, he came face to face with a small (compared to himself, anyway), foxy face staring in the window at him. He cried out and dropped the cans he was holding in surprise, one of them landing squarely on his toes. "Ah, dammit!" he cried, picking his foot up too quickly and throwing himself off-balance, finding himself once again on his rump.





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#3
Oops. Yeah. Forgot to mention that. D:





Sebastian naturally followed his ears in this city. Faint echoes of muted exclamations of sorrow and the tinny ring of metal on stone was enough to entice the slim Italian to the source of this new noise. People were interesting. Desiccated buildings and plant life decidedly less so. Most buildings were long since pillaged by roving luperci, the plant life uninteresting. People were always interesting. He saw a brief flash of white fluff disappear into an abandoned shop, and that was enough for him.

Sebastian picked up the pace, rounding the corner and wiping away some of the dirt on the clear glass with a leaf before he leaned in close to take a peek through the glass.

Damn. This guy was big. Yet another giant to add to the collection. Big and fluffy. Not much else could be seen from this vantage point until the big guy straightened up, his gaze happening to fall upon the peeping Italian. Sebastian waved.

It was apparently not the best response he could have given, judging from the way the big fluffy monster yelped, dropped his cans and fell backwards. Sebastian immediately burst out laughing, clutching his stomach as he bent over in the paroxysms of laughter. Small giggles still issuing from his mouth, the Italian stepped inside the shop and leaned on the counter in front of the fluffy white male.

"Am I really so scary?" he asked playfully, giving the giant a warm wink. He was adorable, really. Lots to snuggle with, too.
#4
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Word count: 333 // No big! Big Grin





Lifting his lips in a grimace, Jimson massaged the toes of his right foot that had been accosted by the edge of the metal can he'd dropped. He wiggled them to work the pain out -- they were far from broken, though he thought he might end up with a bit of a bruise. What in the hell had been in that can, anyway, rocks? Geez. His gaze snapped up as the door announced that it was being opened, and fell upon the red form of the canine that had startled him so, who was still giggling a little. "Am I really so scary?" the other male asked, with a warm smile and a wink as he leaned on the opposite side of the counter. It was then that Jimson noticed the spiked collar around the small male's neck. A little odd, he thought -- back home, no one wore any type of collars. They were thought to be a symbol of darker times, when canines were oppressed by humans, and so were shunned completely. Jimson said nothing, though -- this one looked wolfish, which meant that he probably didn't have many, if any at all, domesticated dogs in his ancestry and wouldn't have the same association. And maybe he just liked the way the collar looked.


The white giant chuckled and grabbed the edge of the counter, pulling himself up. The Pyrenees was used to dwarfing most people, but this tri-colored stranger was even smaller than most, barely half Jimson's size and a good two feet shorter. "Terrifyin'," he teased in his country drawl, before bending to pick up the cans once more and replacing them on the shelf. "Y'just took me off guard, 's all," he said, turning back to face the russet male. "Din't hear y'come up." He adjusted the strap of his messenger bag and held a massive paw out. "M'name's Jimson, by th'way. D'ya often make a habit o'sneakin' up on people?" he asked with a crooked smile.





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#5
Sebastian grinned up at the white giant. At least he was friendly, as was fit for one with such a large smile on his fluffy face. Gods, but he was fluffy. It was difficult to tell what sort of a body he even had underneath all that fur, beyond the fact that he was big and solid. Emphasis on big. Almost Jazper-sized in fact, and on par with Aro and Torok when it came to height. Who knew, perhaps today he could get another eight-foot-tall member for Casa di Cavalieri.

Sebastian shook the proffered hand, flashing his white teeth in a bright smile at the handsome fuzzball. His own hand was lost halfway down his forearm in Jimson's grip. Partly because of his sheer size, and partly due to the fluffy fur. Sebastian certainly wouldn't mind cuddling with that. Neither pillows nor blankets would be needed with this beast. His lack of clothing was a bonus.



"Salve, Jimson," he said warmly, barely managing to maintain a firm grip on the big dog's hand. "I'm Sebastian, of Casa di Cavalieri. Pleasure to meet you." Once he had extracted his black hand, Sebastian gave Jimson a neat, extravagant bow, letting the tips of his ears brush against Jimson's abdomen. "Not usually, but I did not think I was so unnoticeable." Really, foxy fur and small size were hardly common in these areas. Sebastian was almost totally unique.
#6
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Word count: 340




Jimson smiled at the other's statement. "I wouldn't say yer exactly unnoticeable," he commented. "Y'just step quietly, 's all." He chuckled at Sebastian's courtly bow, stepping back a pace or so to give the small wolf space as he felt the other's auburn ears brush his middle. He wondered if Sebastian was a wanderer, as well. It did not seem likely, though -- the small male had his own distinct smell, but he also smelled of other canines, implying that he spent a bit of time in close proximity to others. That usually meant at the very least a pack, more probably a family.

The dog's heart wrenched at the thought. It had damn near been a year, and yet still he felt such an intense pain when he thought of his family. So many lost. Out of the twenty-three family members that lived together in the big old farm house, only Jimson and two of his brothers had been spared from nature's wrath. He still had not adjusted to sleeping alone at night, to not having puppies in his face when he woke up in the morning and under his feet all day. The family of sheep herders had not prescribed to any particular religious system, but such an unjust act had left Jimson wondering. Such horrible things could not just happen at random -- where was the sense in that? There must be some greater purpose, some reason that such a horrible thing had befallen his family. And with that came guilt, because most of his loved ones had been so good, so it had to have been something Jimson or his two surviving brothers had done to bring on such bad tidings. He just had yet to figure out what, exactly.

His reverie was broken as a sudden sneeze took him by surprise. He blinked a few times and sniffed, smiling at the red wolf. "Sorry," he apologized. "Dust's gettin' t'me. Whaddaya say we get some fresh air? Y'know much 'bout th' area? Anythin' interestin' 'round here?"




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#7
"Good to hear," Sebastian said brightly, his liquid accent rolling his R's in his throat. "And here I feared I might attract no attention today." Oh yes. With his fox-like fur, tight black jeans and spiky leather collar, he was the very model of modesty and humility. Not to mention his rather suggestive walk and manner of carrying himself as he sauntered throughout the city.

He waited for a response, offering a charming grin to the fluffy giant. And waited. The Italian's smile waned slightly as Jimson's eyes glazed over a bit. He was on the point of clicking his fingers in front of the huge male's face (assuming he could reach that high) when a colossal sneeze made him jump slightly in shock.

Oh, and the big guy wanted some advice. Well, no-one could say Sebastian Auditore da Sabini was not an accommodating individual, always happy to lend a helping hand. His grin grew slightly wider and he gave Jimson a sagely nod.

"Of course, handsome." Sebastian winked and turned on his heel, padding out the door with his hips swaying slightly more than strictly necessary. "We can talk as we walk, si?"
#8
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Word count: 300 // Jimson is so sheltered and confused XD.




"Of course, handsome." Jimson blinked, taken a little off guard at the accented wolf's compliment. He appreciated it, he guessed, but he found it a little... odd? He did not often expect such a turn of phrase from someone he'd just met, and another male, at that. "Er... thanks, I guess?" he muttered before grabbing his staff and following the petite canine out of the door of the shop.

The golden afternoon light glinted off of what windows were left in the area, and Jimson had to squint for a moment after exiting the gloom of the old storefront. It really must have been a quaint little district in its time, the buildings constructed so that the siding appeared to be stone, little shops like the one he'd just investigated interspersed amongst residential houses. Canines were lucky, he supposed, in that as they evolved intelligence and thumbs they were left with what had been used by the humans before them. He knew many still lived in the old way, roughing it in the woods and shirking any form of human civilization, but many also lived as he did, taking advantage of supplies and buildings that were already there.

"So, d'ya live in th' area?" he asked genially as the pair of canines strolled down the street. "If y'don't mind me askin'." Jimson wondered what the pack concentration was like around here. He'd already had to wind his way around several -- it wouldn't surprise him at all if there were even more on this little peninsula. The last thing he wanted to do was accidentally wind up trespassing without realizing it -- he could take on one or two wolves at a time, he felt confident, but if a whole pack got after him he would go down pretty quickly.





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#9
Sebastian's attitude to that in one gif




Huh. Jimson sounded rather puzzled by the compliment that Sebastian had so blithely thrown his way. Perhaps he was one of those rare wolves who either didn't know homosexuality existed or one of those idiots who took issue with it. Or he was closeted. Sebastian preferred the third option. He wouldn't mind taking another beefy eight-foot-tall man to his bed. That would be, what his third so far? Big guys were nice, especially when they were as fluffy as Jimson.

Sebastian strolled down the street alongside the fuzzy giant, his hip occasionally nudging against the big doggy's leg. Jimson certainly didn't waste time talking.

"Si, I do," he confirmed. "A mile or two north of the city, in a pack called Casa di Cavalieri. Jazper Rhiannon-Knight leads us, along with the newly promoted Alyssum de Fonte." Sebastian paused to inspect a patch of poison ivy, delicately stepping over the plant.

"Most of us are warriors of one sort or another, though it is not a requirement to join," he continued. "We are sworn to keep the peace in the peninsula, and I believe we have done a good job so far." Hard to say no to a pack full of accomplished warriors, about five of whom were over eight feet tall.

"Ah, but I am not here to advertise. This city is called Halifax. Many loners reside here, in small groups that cannot quite be called packs. It is a popular resting stop, and there is a bazaar of sorts that sets up every so often in the greater part. Many merchants there." Sebastian looked the fuzzy beast up and down. "Ah, and I would advise that you do not linger too long on your own. There are several gangs, pickpockets and cutthroats who might think it wise to steal from you." The artisan chuckled at that. There were plentier of easier targets, in his opinion.

"Is there anything in particular you'd like to know? Other packs, territories, me personally?" Sebastian raised a curious eyebrow at the massive male, hopping over a particularly large root that Jimson wouldn't even have to check his stride to walk over.
#10
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Word count: 349 // LOL




Jimson liked the red wolf well enough so far, but the smaller male seemed to have a neglect for personal space that was beginning to rub him the wrong way. He understood being affectionate -- he and his father and his brothers had exchanged hugs, pats, and other benign physical contact on a regular basis, but that was his family, where personal bubbles didn't exist. The Pyrenees struggled for a way to politely resolve the situation, and came up empty. He settled for moving marginally in the opposite direction every time Sebastian's hip touched him.


He nodded as the wolf described his pack. "Pack full o' warriors, huh? Sounds like a lotta responsibility, peacekeepin' fer the whole peninsula. What sorta warrior 're you, then?" Sebastian went on to describe the city, and Jimson made note to remember the bit about the bazaar. Could be interesting to see, at least. He grinned at the next admonition. "I appreciate th' warnin'. There'd hafta be a good group of 'em t'accomplish anythin', but I'll be sure'n keep an eye out." He paused as they begin to pass a large, crumbling church, stopping to appreciate the site. "Ah, now that right there's a pretty sight. Always did like churches 'n such, even when they're comin' t'pieces. So much care put inta buildin' 'em, an' they were so important t'people, an' yet they fell jus' like everythin' else when th' humans went." He glanced at Sebastian as the wolf asked if there was anything else he needed to know, seeming to emphasize his last two words. This man was pretty close to just flat-out odd, Jimson decided. He decided to stick to safer topics than the personal business of the smaller canine -- when you asked about personal things, people tended to expect you to give personal information in return, and he wasn't particularly in the mood for that can of worms. "Are there a lotta packs in th' area? Other'n Casa d' Caverleeri, I mean. I know I've had t'maze mah way through claimed terr'tories so far, is th' whole peninsula like that?"





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#11
Shameless and flirty as he might be, Sebastian was no fool. Nor was he one to push his affections where they weren't wanted, shallow or sincere as they might be. As Jimson shifted away each time the Italian's hip nudged against his leg, Sebastian very deliberately took a small step away. Gods, some people were far too afraid of offending others.

"Mmm. Not entirely full, but mostly. We are not known as an official peacekeeping force, however- it is a duty our leader has taken on to himself, and we mostly stick to the southern belt." To the north were wilder packs that jarred with his delicate sensibilities. Particularly that one filled with coyotes or some such. Or did they not accept coyotes? Sebastian couldn't remember, nor did he particularly want to. Leave the savage, primitive luperci in the dust of the Dark Age where they belonged. A part of him missed Europe for that- the more cultured, refined, forward-thinking atmosphere and people.

"I prefer my bow," Sebastian answered, somewhat absent-mindedly. "If I have to, I have my knives and fists in close combat. Do not grow complacent because of your size," he added warningly. "It's true that there are easier targets around, but a well-placed arrow from any bandit could prove fatal. Plenty of windows and buildings to ambush anyone from." Ah, it was a mistake the larger wolves made so easily. A pity that the value on speed and skill had diminished.

"Ah, yes. The churches. There were many grand churches in Sabini." Sebastian looked it over appreciatively, looking over Jimson as well. "Did you know that when the humans lived in Sabini, the centre of one of their very biggest religions was there? There are enormous castles and huge churches dedicated to it all across the land," he said proudly. "You could like fit every luperci in the peninsula into the castle where the leader of that religion lived, the Castello Sant'Angelo." Yes, fine. He was proud of his country's achievements, regardless of the fact that they were completed by a totally different species.

He winced slightly as Jimson butchered Casa's name, but continued on regardless. "Ah, yes there are. Eight or nine all across the peninsula, I believe," he nodded. "Cercatori d'Arte, Cour des Miracles, Inferni, AniWaya, a few others. All of them with foreign names, funnily enough," he mused. "If you should wish to see Casa di Cavalieri, feel free to do so. We're a few miles north of the city." Sebastian jerked his head in the direction of the pack, offering Jimson a friendly smile. "Why, if you joined, I think you might be our fifth member at least eight feet tall," he chuckled. He felt smaller all the time, surrounded by these giants.


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