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OF THE NEW WORLD ORDER
cakeSkulls, hollow, yellowing, grinned at him in the morning light like living versions of the memories, the nightmares, that he dwelled on so much these days. Bane stood a distance away, standing tall, posture-perfect, observing so much more than his surroundings. Once upon a time, these symbols would have awoken an anger inside the man. It would have been fuel on the fire that resided in his soul, the one he thought would never go out. These days there was such a lack of emotion that, at times when he let his guard down enough, it frightened him. He had used to care. When he had been young, he had cared too much. Each of these morbid tokens were born of a racism that he understood, because it was so deep-rooted in him as well. Still, this only made him wonder, now. There was nothing else there.
cakeThe only thing that raged in him now was the instinct. It slept for days on end now, lurking in his mind, benign but undetected. It hid so well that at times, he forgot the prophet's gift still existed within him. When Bane had woken that morning, it had gripped his mind so tightly he knew there was no denying it. Since the day the judge had spoken his sentence, Bane had lived in chains. Most would say he was free now; this wasn't the truth at all. First the Court had been his master, then the Commander, then the feverish jackal, the dying man with his strange words of fire and blood, the Sun God he had so fervently believed in. Now, his master was the instinct. Fate, destiny, resided in his head, in his soul.
cakeThere was no fire left now. In its place was ice, a man made of stone. A man who didn't even desire to break free. What would come would come, and he would live the rest of his life waiting for the day.
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What form is Bane in?
indent Gabriel had been hailed as a prophet once before. In the west, long before he had gained the scar on his face. That had been the price of his pride, and he accepted this as God’s Will. To be marked for what he had done, and to carry with him that burden. He owed everything he had to someone else. That was what he told himself each morning when the sun rose. It also allowed him the freedom to blame such terrible things on another source; the devil in his brother’s and his own blood was a trial. They had failed. He was being tried even now.
indent It had been Marlowe that alerted him to the stranger on the borders. The description let him know it was Bane. The peculiar man, whom resembled his mother all too much, interested Gabriel. There was a vague sense of danger within the fog of apathy he seemed to carry, and that, perhaps, was why he was so curious. Heading down to the borders, he found the man all too soon, a black pillar against white and no-color brown.
indent “Enjoying the scenery?” A glance was spared to one of the brittle skulls.
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OF THE NEW WORLD ORDER
cakeOptime. He's virtually always shifted.
cakeThrough the skulls, Bane caught sight of the halfling walking towards him. Bane was smiling, that same genial smile, long before the man could likely see it. The mid-morning sun streamed down on him, and yet he remained still as a statue, self-control keeping him steady, mind and body alike. Like his ancestors, the dark wolf was sensitive to minor shifts in mood; the instinct was always awake, always alert, and it spoke to him in ways most people wouldn't have been able to comprehend. There was no fear in the hybrid that approached him, and Bane understood that this wasn't only because they were on his lands.
cakeThe dark wolf was a dominant person. This trait had left him stranded in his youth, but Bane had grown up since then, and knew more of the world now, perhaps too much for being the age he was. His dominance didn't lend itself to a leadership role, it didn't make him want to start a revolution. It did straighten his back and make him walk with his head up, it did make him understand that he was a step above others, and that men like him were rare. Men like him, who were the only ones in this world who deserved true respect. He knew Gabriel didn't trust him. Bane could read it in those eyes, glasses or not, as easily as he could see the sky was blue. It hardly mattered. Gabriel spoke and the lack of weakness in his voice, in the way he stood, was a curious thing. It was no wonder the halfling reminded him so strongly of someone.
cake"I am, thank you, Gabriel of the Western Kingdoms," and as he spoke, there was a masked amusement in his voice. Whether this was directed towards the skulls, his own tendency to give people titles (in war, these were earned), or something else entirely wasn't wholly clear. His voice was as steady and respectful as his stance. These, after all, were not his lands. The fireworks were in his head again. "It's convenient that you would show up. I'm glad your less wolf-tolerant inferiors didn't notice I was here. I hope I'm not interrupting anything."
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indent Unlike their last meeting, Gabriel stood on two legs—he did this mostly to shorten the distance he had to look up in order to hold conversation with his companion. Bane was, by breeding, larger then he was. Most wolves were, though Gabriel had taken his size from that part of his lineage. This was untrue for his children, whom were both more like their mother. His siblings, in comparison, were a mixed bunch. At least, he assumed this; he hadn’t seen hair or hide of half of them in years.
indent Western Kingdoms. He had heard that term before, in some arcane literature, though could not recall where or when. Two eyes, both amber-gold and remarkably clear, remained on his younger associate.
“You aren’t,” he said, offering a faint and not entirely true smile.
“I’m sure you won’t mind if we stay outside of the borders.” Tolerate as he seemed, paranoia was a central part of Gabriel’s game.
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OF THE NEW WORLD ORDER
cakeSomething about this felt surreal. Something about this reminded him of the nights he had spent with the group of kids he had fallen in with directly after leaving his father. There had been so much Bane hadn't understood then, and he had made up for this by substituting his own reality. Now, he had returned to that place of haze and fractured memories as he stood with this strange halfling, this resolute, wary man with the wolf blood in his veins, the blood that ultimately meant nothing because it had been rejected. In the old city he would have been killed. To fraternize with the enemy was a great crime, worthy of the gallows or the guillotine. He had to remind himself they weren't the enemy any longer.
cake"Of course not." Bane smiled (through the murmering in his head) as he said this, as real a smile as he could manage. His curiosity had brought him here, and he knew it was the same thing that had brought Gabriel out from his safe haven. He didn't expect friendship. He thought of Siobhan and pondered the irony of the situation. "I wouldn't presume to expect an invitation into your home. It's not my place." It was enough to expect the man's time. "I did meet a few of your clan members, however. Corona the Golden and the young lady Siobhan. They seemed quite friendly." It wasn't a challenge, merely an observation, and he spoke idly as if he were talking to himself. He wasn't sure if the non-wolves here held a kill-on-sight policy here like they had at home, but there were always some who followed it regardless. In his head, the dead jackal spoke the ancient words to him and he looked up, quietly, to the sky.
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indent Gabriel, like Bane, lived in a reality that was unlike others. He heard the Voice, and he knew his purpose was Divine. It had cost him half of his family, and slaughtered more then he would like to admit. Murder was, however, so much an institution within their world that these things did not matter. I brought the water from the rock. Pride had been his sin.
indent Friends for Gabriel were few and far between. He was friendly with some, but had no one now to fraternize with. Once upon a time it had been Rurik, drowning in a bottle. After that, there had been no one. So it in a way, it was curiosity and loneliness that perhaps drew him; this was one of the few times he had not been cursed outright for what he represented and who he was. “Corona was raised with wolves,” he said, not finding the information dangerous. “She lived with our father.” Useless, pointless conversation. “Your leg seems to have healed,” he commented idly.
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OF THE NEW WORLD ORDER
cakeRaised with wolves -- this only proved further the two were hybrids, as if it weren't obvious enough already. Bane nodded slightly at Gabriel's words, calm and idle with his piercing blue eyes. From the tales the dark wolf had heard from his father, some of the coyotes of Inferni had never been friendly to wolves, and this he understood as natural, as nature's way. Wolves were larger, stronger, and wolves kept them down. It was intended to be that way. But then, humans had never been intended to destroy the planet and hide it away under their concrete architecture, like so much dust under a rug. Bane had never claimed to know everything. In fact, he would readily admit he knew nothing at all, and the more he learned the more obvious this became. Every day he was learning. Some days gave him more than others. Even the idle conversation he shared with this halfling brought him something.
cake"And quite well," he added, glancing down at his leg. He had almost forgotten how vulnerable the broken leg had made him, during their first meeting. Though he hadn't accepted it then, he had always known this place, his birthplace, was different than the old city. Where the midnight sun shone and the hot springs bubbled, under and over the earth. He still hadn't accepted this, really, and it would be a long time before he did. Bane smiled a curious smile then. "You could have killed me." It was obvious what he was referencing, and as he spoke, he looked up from his leg, half-clothed in the cutoff jeans he wore. Defense would have been possible with the butterfly knife he kept on his person at all times, but a disadvantage was a disadvantage, and he was perpetually curious. All words were things from which to learn, and this was what he ultimately wanted.
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The fact that their blood was mixed did not bother Gabriel; ultimately, his loyalty lay where it was due. Inferni had taken in its wayward son and Christian soldier, and raised him to their commander and chief. He owed them for this, and he remained diligent in this duty. Ultimately, his mixed heritage did not change the truth he had witnessed as a child. Wolves killed coyotes. Wolves preyed on those smaller and weaker then they were. They hated and brought ruin upon those who resorted to violence in order to survive.
Thus was the way of the world, after all. The words brought a peculiar smile to Gabriel’s face; it was his father’s smile, half-mad and yet all too aware. Despite what he wished to think, there was much of that man in him. “Does it bother you I didn’t?” Without waiting for a response, he let out a short chuckle. “You’re peculiar, Bane, and that makes you interesting. I wanted to hear more of your story.” A trinity of charms clattered around his neck, but the sound was familiar and did not bother the doggish hybrid.
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OF THE NEW WORLD ORDER
cakeWherever you'd like is perfect!
cakeBane's own prejudice was something he had been told to believe, and in order to survive in a world he relied on to save him, he had done so and believed. The reasons they had given him had made sense, and he had never questioned their morals. Everyone preyed on those weaker than them. The weak deserved to be preyed on, because they were weak; Nature dictated this. Ultimately Bane believed in the old edict that only the strong would survive, and only the strong were worthy of respect. Perhaps that was why he found this halfling, this entire clan, interesting. They were hybrids and coyotes, yet they were strong. Instinct, prophecy and the jackal's unconventional beliefs aside, of course.
cakePeculiar. Bane smiled when he heard this; it wasn't the first time he had been described in such a way. It was relative, of course. To him, the rest of the world was peculiar. Some were less so than others, and therefore easier for him to understand. Abruptly, he spoke, no hesitation in giving the halfling what he wanted. "'I have been mighty among mankind,'" Bane stated, louder than his normal tone, an authoratative voice he hadn't used in many months. "'And it is pleasing to me.'" And then it faded, back to his steady baritone. "And the Lion Goddess, with blood on her tongue, would not be appeased. She had seen death and she craved more. With the faithless lying dead, the mountains and rivers stained with red, she began to prey on the believers. The Sun God soon realised she would wipe out mankind, and He knew there was but one way to stop her: He had to trick her.
cake"Calling to His attendants, the Lesser Gods, the mighty Sun God ordered them forth and they produced for Him seven thousand jars of beer. With the blood of the slain they coloured it red, and they brought it to the fields where the Lion Goddess would viciously slaughter the remnant of the Sun God's faithful. They poured the beer in the fields and when the Lion Goddess arrived, she was fooled to believe she had already killed the men there. Looking at the blood, she caught in her eyes her own gaze and became affixed with her reflection. It pleased her and she drank deeply of the beer and fell asleep, abandoning her quest."
cakePausing then, Bane allowed the images that accompanied the story in his head to fade, and he glanced back at Gabriel. "I'm glad to hear you're interested in my story," he said finally. There was a very faint smile on his face. "But it's quite long, and I would like to perhaps overstep my boundaries and ask you a fairly personal question."
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They were too alike. Had Gabriel fully understood Bane, he might have seen this. It was that which would have either bound them further or turned them against one another. In Gabriel’s world, there was one God and one Law. If, by happenstance, his God and Bane’s own divine powers were the same, things might have changed. But the edicts and the mythology he listened to now was arcane, and belonged to another world (hadn’t Vienna, long before she left like the wind, spoken to him on such matters?).
A question. Gabriel’s eyes turned to his companion, sharp, amber-yellow, dangerous. They had always looked like that, even before he had killed. Long before a stranger had torn his brother apart. “Then ask,” he said calmly, offering no signs he would answer either way.
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cakeThere was nothing to reveal to the dark wolf that the halfling had even heard or absorbed his words. Fortunately Bane knew otherwise; it was simply patience, perhaps, and patience, if anything, was a virtue. There were still many things that Bane was uncertain about, and this hybrid was one of them, but he had nothing else to go on. The story fell into place so far, but his own lack of faith in the jackal-man's story made him a disbeliever. Time would tell, and he knew now that he had time. His story, their story, would be revealed eventually. The truth, his path, would be revealed eventually.
cake"Do you believe in God?" His blue eyes reflected the intensity he felt in his head as he asked this question. A part of him expected an honest answer, and an equal but separate part of him expected no answer at all. As usual, Bane's curiosity was from a more businesslike standpoint: though others may have seen it as otherwise, there was a purpose behind most everything he did. Knowing this, he stood calmly and waited.
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Something began to ring, however faintly, in his skull. A quiet resonance balanced between them but it felt out of sorts. Careful, the bell whispered, though the voice was not familiar. Had it been the Other, he might have understood the warning better. Both of his eyes remained focused on his companion’s, and he saw something equally precarious in them. Bane was not only peculiar; he was dangerous.
The question did not change his outward appearance much; but he smiled in a way that did not meet his eyes. “My soul finds rest in God alone: My salvation comes from Him.” How long since he had spoken that aloud? Long enough he could taste the fire and the ash in his throat. The charms around his neck betrayed him (two his own, one his father’s), but his eyes did not waver, nor did he think to speak this point aloud. Instead, his voice changed subtly, became formidable. “‘I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in me will live, even though he dies; and whoever lives and believes in me will never die. Do you believe this?”
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cakeBane is good at abrupt endings.
cakeThe answer Gabriel gave Bane was far more detailed, more personal, than the black wolf had expected. He watched and he listened, as he did always, as he had since he the day he'd learned that this was the best way to survive in a world that hid itself so diligently from those who lived in it. Since arriving in Nova Scotia, the former war doctor hadn't lost his upper hand. As far as he was concerned, he was the only one who knew what was going on, and he would bide his time as much as he needed to until the world finally revealed itself to him, so that he would understand more than he (anyone) ever had. He was an intelligent, dominant man who lived in an entirely self-sufficient manner, and it suited him well. That changed as Gabriel finished speaking, and for a moment Bane knew nothing.
cakeAll traces of curiosity or, indeed, anything, had vanished from his face, which was strange now. His eyes were clear, piercing as ever, but oddly blank as he simply looked at his companion. Things rarely surprised him. Bane had spent his life knowing his destiny; and now, it had been changed. He could hear the jackal in his head. It was a moment before he moved; then, suddenly, abruptly, it was as if the life returned to his face, and he was awake again. The halfling's words were almost a challenge, one Bane didn't care to take on at the moment. The screaming inside his skull was almost overwhelming; he needed to think. "Once upon a time, I didn't." A simple reply, as vague as Gabriel's had been clear. "Thank you for your time, Gabriel of the Western Kingdoms," he added with his trademark cordial smile. "I will visit you again." And he would, when more of his story came to him, when it made more sense. Or rather, when he accepted that perhaps it was already there, and that it already did.
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