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p, set in the university.
Everything was changing. The world itself would never be the same. Growing up was something Mati had looked forward to, but there were many things that she would enjoy to live without. She could manage being attacked while in her home, shifting, gaining true responsibilities, having a monster for a father, her mothers breaking their mateship and destroying the abstract notion of “love”. All were easily pushed from her vast mind and ignored. But she could not manage the idea of life without her brother. The mere thought of it, thinking about thinking about it made tears well in her eyes. After seeing him she had run to a place she felt was safe, for she had met a friend there once and his presence was still fresh in the stone walls. Violet eyes looked into the dark of the laboratory, her face wet with the prospect of considering life in her pack without her beloved brother.
Her large brown form sat on a dusty lab stool, and she lost her vision in the paper that sat before her on the black bench. Her pencil was dull, having been sharp when the sun was still sitting high in the long windows. Now it was faded, low and almost lost to the long shadows of the pending night. Mati didn’t like the dark, but it fit the feeling in her chest. She welcomed it, and cursed the large bright moon that hung in the foreground of the sky. The sun still held its reign over the atmosphere, but it wouldn’t last. Falling lower and lower Mati felt her heart sink with it, eyes falling to the paper and the image that she had scribbled into it. Hard charcoal lines accented the figure’s outline, and Mati shaded in eyes that she had even never seen. Her hand moved the pencil until they were dark and lifeless.
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Sorry for the wait!
500+
IT IS INEVITABLE
The male moved silently, slipping into the city as silently as a plague. Even bipedal the crow wolf retained that eerie fluidity. The black orbs drank in the scene of those large, human remains that rose like the skeletons of their pathetic existence. His cruel maw worked through the scents that were brought to him by the serving wind, sifting only for one specific scent. The pied Raven that followed his daughter had brought him news of Cwmfen’s life ever since the bird had come to her; now that he had arrived within these lands, the Raven had come more frequently. And that treacherous beak had told him of the one formidable creature that he had fought. His black lips twitched with a sneer. Love. If there were but one single downfall within the these creatures, it was that ultimate illusion of love. That black, mocking laughter echoed through his mind. And now Cwmfen and that masked coyote had grown intimately attached, more so, the Raven explained, than she had in the past. Well...there were ways of dealing with such things.
The fresh, warm scent that he found did not belong to that male. It belonged to a female. Silently, the shadowed figure tracked that scent, arriving at last within a laboratory. The emotion that emanated from the female seemed to permeate through the stale air of the room, stroking his maw with opportunity. The Korean’s step was silent as he approached her, the black orbs noting the dark things that occurred upon the paper. And he paused only when he was practically upon her. The pied brute knelt for his superior hight, his hand reaching out to grasp her chin. And his touch was surprisingly gentle, charismatic and alluring. “Why so troubled, young lady?” The tenor voice was quiet and assuaging, marred only be the cold emptiness that seemed to lack the ability of even feigned compassion. He wanted her violet eyes to meet his gaze and understand the danger of a female so young traveling alone in such a dark place. That dark maw breathed her scent.
Such opportunities.
His hand released her, but his fingers moved to brush away the moisture of her face as a lover might. The black lips curled in a hollow but nonthreatening smile, allowing the almost ageless, effeminate beauty of his face be known, the terribleness of that darkness subdued by deception. The black ears did not rise up above his head like the horns of some demon but remained relaxed. His gaze, the fierce intensity of those hollow eyes dormant, invited her to embrace the dark that now threatened upon her mind, invoked by the mood mirrored in those inferior, reflective eyes and the dark figures upon that pure, white paper. “The solace does not have to be out of reach,” that tenor sound tempted as his hand was returned to rest upon his knee. The black tail flickered behind him as the shadows clung to him, dulling the bright warning of that white fur that wreathed him. And that speech was only imperceptibly marred by the accent of his Korean tongue, as comfortable with this language as he was with the dark he offered now to this young and innocent soul.
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very much worth it :]
Would she be lost? It was a question that she could have drowned in. Mati always fought it, had since she had found that her beloved brother would no longer call her home his. For a moment she let it set in, allowed herself a moment with the truth and felt how it overcame her like a tidal wave. It rose, threatening and menacing, but before it could crash against her Mati pushed the reality aside. Ignoring that fate Mati focused on the drawing that she poured her unhappiness onto. It felt her anger and pain, the picture becoming ugly and as skewed as her emotions. The lines were harder to see, as the suns glow faded into shadow. The presence of night was a cloak against her shoulders, heavy but oddly comforting. It was a deceitful comfort, as she knew very well that she shouldn’t feel anything but fear in the darkness.
Then there was someone. He stood in the doorway, a shadowed outline that stood almost as tall as the door itself. She was unafraid, wondering if her tears had taken her sight. But as he moved, like fluid through the air or ghastly shaped smoke he approached with no reserve Mati knew his presence was truth. His smell was foreign, and Mati sat watching his movements through the dim light. He moved as if he owned every inch, touching her as if he owned that too. The gentle fingers against her chin brought her eyes to his, and his voice rang in her folded ears. His words made her feel embarrassed that she cried, but the calm that radiated him flowed easily through her broken form. And as she grew fixated on his eyes, the fear began to grow. Seeping into the cracked skin her sadness had opened so painfully. And still she gave no reaction.
Lavender eyes blinked as he touched so close, and the creature spoke again. Silence followed, and Mati only watched him. She wanted to read the aggression on him, wanted to see the threat that she should see. He did not lie, he would never lie to her, Mati was sure of that. But this beast's white collar hung around him like a fallen hallo, and the girl fought the urge to reach to touch its pure clean color. Instead she let her eyes stay upon the darkness that was his gaze. Her voice rose, but it was nothing more then a whisper. The tears gone, Mati could only proclaim the truth she knew. You shouldn’t be here. But another truth, she needed him to stay. Needed this solace that he preached, and her voice revealed that truth too. Just as night had come, so did he with the same deceitful promise.
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500+
IT IS INEVITABLE
There was a melancholy that seeped from the girl, and it permeated the air more distinctly than any other emotion—or perhaps it was merely the melancholy and the hurt that he could sense more acutely than anything else that may have been present within the air. He breathed in deeply like a drug and it infected his mind. Like fear, this emotion that was the substrate for darkness tempted him to invite her, and he, by simply offering that darkness, tempted her, invited her to embrace it. The black orbs watched those eyes, holding her there with a gentle and yet inescapable gaze, like the cold leer of a snake. And suddenly he could smell her fear. That sinister mind, subject to his innate, sinister desires, rose up suddenly like a black storm catalyzed by those emotions that wafted in the air. And yet he was still and unmoving, that emotionless facet unyielding in her silence even as that hollow smile was invited upon his cruel maw.
“Neither should you,” that suave tenor countered quietly, dangerously, that voice dripping with a black poison. “And yet here we are in the dark of Night.” The black orbs that had been still and unmoving for its emptiness suddenly flickered with something distant and unreadable, something that was almost mocking. Yet, it was too diluted, too obscured by the blackness of that emptiness, to truly read. And then it was gone into the nothingness. His lips parted slightly, those hungering teeth glinting in the darkness. Like his daughter, the crow wolf did not believe in mere coincidence. And he wondered what causality had brought him here to this mere girl that was so openly inviting to him. Like an open wound that invited disease, this girl invited him. And the pied brute was more than willing to infect her, to change this small part of the existing disease of these lands. The black brute was still as he watched her, that black, fathomless gaze watching only her eyes. She was practically a mature female.
Black tendrils of shadow tugged at his fur as he reached out once more to place his hand upon her shoulder. But a simple touch could tell him many things. The soft lines of her body contrasted with the harder lines of his battle trained sinew, and such a body could and would be made to yield. The tendrils of shadow were extended to her as his eyes strayed to observe her openly before returning to her gaze, the shadows wrapping about her mind and her heart like the worms of a decaying earth. But the pied wolf could be gentle, and he would be with this young and innocent creature if only to draw her near enough to strike. “There are secrets in the Dark—are you ready to accept the solace of the night?” That quiet tenor grated the air as he invited her. And then he rose as if to leave, his touch sliding from her frame. Like his daughter, this girl would be made to come willingly. And once more, it would be that illusion of choice that would lead them to him.
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Yes, his words were so true. The tenor’s call that spoke of her own fault, her own misplacement. Mati knew all to well, and as she sat before him and let the seconds ticked by it was more apparent that she should have been home. It was weakness that made her fall to a place that had been one of security to the female. This was once a place of safety, a haven that she had retreated to. But then, someone else had looked down upon her. It was his presence that made her feel the warm security. And it was this ones presence that stole all of that from her. Or did it run? Was it the shadow that trailed from each of his extremities that frightened all of the things that made this place one she had trusted?
Her eyes told her so. His face was nothing more then the vessel for the two hollow eyes that filled her mind, both black as the night itself. A lie. Night was more; it held the hue of her own gaze, the blue of the remaining dusk sky, and stars. He was nothing, nothing but a black hole that she would be lost it. If she let herself fall. He spoke of the night as if it something not to fear, but embrace. A host of the comfort that she so obviously sought, a deity that would lead her to a sacred place. He spoke as if he was its prophet, here to show her the way. His eyes moved over as if she was something to be coveted, something as sacred as the place he sought to take her.
His hand reached to touch her again, and her eyes closed at the feeling. Her breath was caught in her lungs, and she moved her ears and head back in hopes of retreating away from it. But her body sat still, as if to test the touch. To see if it did indeed hold the things he promised. It was soft, not harsh like she had been promised he would be. Had those warnings been a lie, to keep her from seeing what lay beneath the temptations. Was it to hide the truth from her? The Church girl should have known better then to draw her form from the seat, following the voice that trailed to her ears even as his speech was done. They hung in the air, wrapping her round soft form as if a tether around her being. She felt small before him, though her form could never be described as such. The brown young woman looked upward at the male, meeting the eyes that could hold her still.
Her voice returned to her, and it was her soul that spoke beyond what her mind could gather. It was a single word that told him that she was far from ready to find comfort in his darkness. No. It was yet another whisper, but strong in its own way. Mati Church was no child of the Night, unable to be blessed by the Dark. She was woman of the Sun, and would only find comfort in the Light.
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Aww, I did it again, OnO. But I'll just leave it this time... Sorry about that!
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A bit of powerplay, hope you don’t mind; if you want her to break away, there’s one deep scar on the side of his ribcage that she could agitate, ^=^ And oops, I keep forgetting to leave out colours, since he’s colourblind.
500+
IT IS INEVITABLE
Those black eyes held her. They watched the conflict that seemed to pass over the girl, and yet it was a quiet, timid confliction that he saw and felt. She knew what it was that was within her, and yet she was presented with a more currently tangible option. He presented it to her, and it could wash away what her tears could not. It could wash everything away—morals, emotions, and life. Those things...they were simply the delusions of mortals. The purpose of life was to produce young and die. Die. In the end, all things died, and Life was simply another control. What was the purpose of life? There was none, and so each creature could create their own. It was simply causality. The Korean had cut his own path, and he had found the darkness to be most efficient. He no longer remembered the light, nor believed that he had ever been a part of that path. No. It had never been that way. And now, in the dark, he could show life that it was not required. The Darkness did not require life. And through Cwmfen, he could bypass that purposelessness of life to create eternity. He sneered inwardly. And this girl, who was similar to his daughter, could be shown the darkness. Could be shown the emptiness. Could be corrupted.
But she, as he knew his daughter would, denied him. The dark waters of his empty soul grew dangerously still. The air grew still. The shadows grew silent, no longer whispering to him. Those black, fathomless orbs simply watched her, impassive and unpredictable. That single, uttered ‘no’ changed the situation. It changed his hunger, made those jaws hunger for her life. But the man was still as he watched her. He was without anger and without irritation. He was empty, filled only by that sinister intent and dark curiosity. The change was made manifest through the air and physically by the disappearance of that curled smile. But there was a sudden quiet sound, a mirthless grating in the air as two opposing stones might produce: laughter. Those black orbs flickered with something treacherous as he pierced those lighter eyes. And those jaws parted—but there was silence. And that silence persisted. But then: “But the Darkness is ready for you.”
Suddenly, the male moved, those movements eerily fluid as that black form cut through the air. And his movements were not awkward nor even aggressive. They were made with precision and with control and with celerity. He pushed her to the hard floor, the stool insignificant as it was knocked aside. As they hit the ground, his hands slid up her form to grab her wrists, pinning her down. He deftly parted her legs, pushing his knee between them and holding them down by placing his knees upon her thighs. There was a quiet growl that was emitted from his throat, his nose brushing against the pulse in her neck. He wanted to breathe in her fear, for it was that fear, not the girl, that excited him. And he waited for those initial moments, allowing anticipation to heighten and allowing the dark to wrap about her before he would allow her to embrace him.
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just in the end she needs to break away, and a little pp on my end too.
She felt the change, the moment the word slipped from her lips. They passed into the air, and she was able to watch the fade of his face and the emptiness resonate between them. Something grew within her, something that had been lost while she had cried alone, and something that was almost lost within his gaze. The fear rose, as did the beat of her heart. It was instinct, a voice that screamed to her. It said to run, the deep voice of a hero told her to run. Why had it been so silent before? How untrue. She had ignored it, and knew that it was this beast that made her do so. Run. She wanted to leave, and knew that she shouldn’t have been here. Shouldn’t have stayed whole he spoke to her.
She didn’t want the darkness, the girl wanted the sun. Wanted the light, at least the sight of stars, the moon she had once curse. The girl yearned to see it, wanted to sit beneath its glow. No. She spoke again, louder now and with deep seriousness in her voice. He needed to move from in front of her exit, and let her go. In and instant he was upon her, her back hitting the seat she had just seconds ago left and then falling to the floor. The contact shocked her, and drove the air from her lungs. She fought to breathe, opening her eyes to see the shadowed creature on top of her, claws twisted around her wrists. She inhaled sharply, screaming now. He pinned her, moving her legs in a way that was so foreign to the young girl that she hardly comprehending the meaning.
She felt the pain, screaming the name of the only beast that could save her. Onus. She called to him, wishing for the help he promised, wishing that he would come for her. She was innocent, her mind screamed. If it were true, he would come for her. She was sorry that she hadn’t heeded his warning, feeling the punishment of her foolishness. The beast took her in, breathing heavily against her soft form and watching as she struggled. As he moved against her Mati moved forward, teeth bared and looking for the face held his empty eyes. She fought him because her savior would not come, her voice sounding the struggle. The girl twisted her wrist from his hold, the pain of his claws shadowed by the freedom her felt. The paw reached to his chest, her own nails moving against it and downward. Fear rose, and the girl fought for everything that he worked to take from her. And again she spoke, Please no.
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500+
IT IS INEVITABLE
She had tried to resist him again. But words would not hold him back. The boundaries of packs would not hold him back. He was not able to be bound. Rules and laws did not apply to him—they were made for him to break and he could break them. It was what made him dangerous, for his existence did not rely upon the morals that bound the lives of others. That sinister curiosity that drove the emptiness within him was reason enough to act. And he had the skill to be control of each situation, to dominate others. To spread that darkness into a place already infested with that weakness. No, her words could not stop him. And she did not have the strength nor the skill to control this situation. He offered that to her, and she rejected it. It was a pity, he thought, for there were very few deserving of his attention. When one joined a gang, one could not leave. He had been a gang lord in Korea, and he knew quite well such situations. Rejection would merely warrant her death, and she was better dead an purged off the face of the earth than to be allowed to persist and further spread that virus.
The girl was easy to overcome, just as he promised that she would be. Even as she struggled against him, screaming for fear and dislike, his body was able to form hers to his pleasing. And a noisy creature she was, disturbing the silence of the shadows. And he breathed in her fear—how strong it was. And his body responded, the heat clear in his loins as he brushed them against her. But for the moment he simply allowed that fear to grow, to show her how inferior to him she was; and the mere suggestion of what he could do and would do could be enough, could be just as powerful as the act itself. Such a thing had been effective with Cwmfen those many moons ago. How similar this girl was to his daughter, and yet different. This girl was still inferior. Cwmfen, who carried his blood in her veins, was not. His jaws parted, split by a silent, snarling sneer as his teeth brushed against her pulse, that blood that was so fulfilling. The masked coyote had shared his blood with him, and it had been like no other he had tasted. And now, here, with this girl, he could threaten both her life and her innocence. And he could take them.
She called out a name. Onus. The black ears rose above his head like the horns of that demon. Onus—he had no doubt of who belonged to that name. He laughed then, that mirthless sound infecting the air about them even as she escaped from his grasp. And the pied brute did not respond to her clawings as if he did not register the pain, could not register the pain. The girl’s plea rang in his ears. The Korean’s maw moved to whisper in her ear, disregarding her snarling jaws. “If you can bring him to me, I’ll let you go.” Of course, that tenor voice promised nothing save for that. The manner of her release, the state of her life, was not included. And what if that coyote, Onus, did come? It was not yet time for anything, but he could show that coyote how futile it all was.
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Some PP Req, lemme know if you want anything changed
I HOLD SECRETS FLAME
The night was filled with unease. He felt it on his skin, in his muscles, in his bones. A shadow lurked in the city and he knew exactly what it was. Though where it was he could not decipher. Not yet anyways. The coyote stood on the top of a crumbling building, next to a gargoyle that overlooked the streets with him. He was crouched down, one hand holding the stone beast to help keep his balance. The wind whipped around his form, making his coat flap about his waist. Where are you. Corvus was in the city. The danger this placed anyone within the concrete jungle made the air thick and suffocating. He was waiting, just waiting for some cry of fear and pain to slice through it like a white hot knife. The man's free hand balled into a fist. If he had to wait that long to know, then he might be too late.
Then suddenly with a clarity he knew. One of his gut senses. They were impossible for the man to ignore for he had come to know how often they were correct. They hardly had failed him, if ever. With dexterity he descended the broken walls of the building and made his way to the ground. He jumped, legs taking in the shock of the impact, filling the man with a sort of electricity flowing through him. With a fast pace that seemed effortless he made his way towards the university. He had to hurry, there wasn't much time. The creature that prowled those hallowed halls was more deadly than any other. He had to reach him before a spirit was broken or a life extinguished. As he ran he rolled his shoulder in its socket. It was still a little stiff, but he had been working it daily. He would be able to fight. It wasn't as if he had a choice anyway.
Silently he entered the union, standing in the exact entryway that he had last met Mati Church. Almost as if on cue he heard her voice call his name. No. Adrenaline leaked into his veins and swift as a shadow the vigilante moved to the laboratory. His ears were pricked forward and his fur bristled, though under the coat one would not be able to tell. Veiled eyes took in the sight of the man of darkness on top of her. A righteous fury took him and he moved with deadly preciseness. Within a split second he was upon them and his claws sank into the wolf's flesh, using the force of his run and the strength of his body to throw the beast from her. He took his place between the prone girl and the dark man. "Mati go," his rough voice commanded softly. He stared at the crow wolf, his body ready.
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The pain of his grasp, and fear that he brought to her being filled her. It was so very different then his approaching façade, and the girl couldn’t understand why he had changed so. His promises, had they only been true if she submitted to his will? Mati wanted to lay still, show her submission and beg for his mercy and her release. But something inside told her to fight, a part of her the she had yet to recognize screamed for to not let him take her. The girl understood little of such things, being young an naïve but somewhere within her she understood, and fought the man from taking such innocence from her body. Fear for her life pushed passed that boding woe; so suddenly sure that he would take everything from her. And she didn’t want to die.
Her fangs did nothing to stop him, and she could only force her head away from his hot breath. His inhale sucked her in, the fear ridden scent that was lavished all over her form. Mati fought to breath and when she did, it was musk and blood that came to her nose. Bile forced its way to her throat, and she screamed again, but her voice was softer and it was released as a high pitched moan. His voice collided with her mind, and she understood them as they forced past the pure fear. In an instant she tried to catch her breath, saying his name with a breathless voice. Again and again she pleaded, begged that he would come.
The claws dug deeply into her arms, tearing the flesh and muscle. Crying out the girl was forced to close her eyes from the pain. She wanted it to end, wanted the finish that was his new promise. Dull, broken eyes woke to find the pied beast no longer looked down at her. No longer a shadow over her, but the dim light that only he could bring to the dark night laden room. He spoke her name, with a calm and security that only brought her more tears. Her legs ached, blazing with the pain from the pressure of the dark creature’s own. Unknowingly she moved with a strength she was sure had been ripped from her body forever. But it only brought her as far as a workbench’s cover. Her chest was too tight, and the hot air too thick. The blood from her arms showered the classroom floor, and her eyes followed the clacked figure, standing at the ready. Her fear did no subside, but fell upon the masked coyote.
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500+
IT IS INEVITABLE
Her fear was intoxicating, driving him forward. Where he could have been gentle, his touch had become brutal, a punishment for her refusal. Where he could have instilled a satisfaction within her, he was cruel. Her blood coated his hands as he tore mercilessly, and its scent was like a sweet perfume. He breathed it in, lifting his maw from her momentarily before moving his cruel lips along her neck, tasting her fear. It was no longer about her, about a girl that could embrace the Dark. It was about him and about a girl that would embrace the Dark. He would make her embrace it. She would feel it as surely as she felt him, as intimately as she was about to feel him. And the girl’s weakening screams were the invitation—they invited him closer and he did get closer. Perhaps now she understood the futility of resistance and the power of the Dark. The fur along his back and neck bristled, the white and black hackles rising like dangerous thorns that might pierce her soft flesh. The pied brute pressed his scent upon her, smothering her with black shadows and his distorted lust. He laughed, his body shifting as he prepared to penetrate her weak, innocent body.
The black auds swiveled, but he heard a little too late. The claws that dug into his flesh were familiar. A mirthless sneer split his maw as a slow, silent snarl distorted his maw. The one who came threw him from the girl, his claws taking a last bite of her flesh before he left her. And he left her almost willingly for the gift of this appearance. Deftly, the pied brute caught himself, staying upon his feet. But the force with which the coyote threw him caused his back to make contact with the wall. Righting himself, the Korean stood forward, the black orbs watching mockingly the girl that had taken cover behind the masked ‘savior’. That mirthless, hollow grating clawed the stale air of the room as Corvus’ posture straightened, regaining that erect posture that demanded submission. Remembering the blood and flesh that he had taken from the coyote, the male lifted his hand, a tongue flickering like a snake to taste the blood of that girl. It was the sweet taste of innocence, but it was not as fulfilling as the blood of the one that now stood before him.
The black orbs watched the coyote before turning to the girl behind him. “Thanks, Mati,” the tenor voice soothed, using her name as if he were familiar with her. For that he would let her go. Of course, only the presence of the coyote guaranteed that. With that silent, snarling sneer, the male turned back to the coyote. “Onus, is it?” The black orbs were fierce as he watched the blindfolded face. He would be made to pay for his intimacy with Cwmfen. Or perhaps it would be Cwmfen that would be doing the paying. “She’s an innocent girl,” he continued in the silence, but it was ambiguous. Of which girl did he speak? “But such a thing is not meant to last.” It was practically the same thing Cwmfen had said to Onus, but whether Corvus knew this was unknown. The black tail of the pied male flickered behind him as he laughed once more that horrible, grating laugh. And then suddenly—silence. The sneer was gone, and the emotionless façade was back in place. “How’s your neck?” As the last tenor sounds escaped his maw, the male had moved forward, sliding toward him as his blood soaked claws struck like the head of a snake, grasping at the place where he had bitten the male those moons ago.
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I HOLD SECRETS FLAME
Immediately he knew this would not be their final fight. This was only another meeting. Though this one would be different from the last. This time he knew what stood before him. His mind was steeled as well as his body. He knew what he was about to do to the girl, and that was unforgivable. Whether or not the act had been committed was now irrelevant (though he was thankful for her sake that it had not). The wolf would pay for his crimes. Maybe not today, but someday and soon. Onus noted that Mati moved, but did not leave the room. No matter. He knew that Corvus would forget her now. Forget her because he was here. He watched with some amount of disgust as he licked the blood his claws had raked from the girl. This creature was a vampire, feeding off the blood of others and darkness. The man would be more than willing to drive a stake right through the creature's dead heart, if he even possessed one.
Again with the banter. The dark wolf's words would not work on him. Words were useless. If he thought he was going to provoke him into some brash move then he hadn't learned much about him. "Corvus Vendetta," he stated with simple certainty. Cwmfen had given him his name. He said nothing to deny or accept his own spoken name. It was obvious the man knew it now. Those words echoed in his ears, but in a different voice. It didn't stir anything inside of him though. His mind was focused on his mission, a place where the few emotions he allowed himself were only burdens to be shoved off. "Only because of scum like you." True, Corvus was far from being the only thing in this world to corrupt innocence, but he certainly was an embodiment of it. He was darkness and everything that came with it.
At the question the muscles in his neck tightened, but more in response to the wolf's advance. A foolish move, going for the last place he had struck the man and caused such injury. Perhaps with a lesser fighter it would have worked, but Onus had been expecting such. Deftly he dodged out of the grasp of that bloodied hand. Now standing at the beast's side one leg kicked out at the back of his knees, hoping to take his balance and footing from him. If that succeeded he would move around to the back and wrap his arm around the man's neck right under his jaw.
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300+
IT IS INEVITABLE
The dark man did not respond to that voiced name. His lips twitched in a sneer. Once more his daughter was mistaken for ‘finding’ security within the arms of another. Dahlia de Mai would not protect her. This Onus could not protect her as he now protected this child. Her sense of security and confidence would make his work easier. And soon the coyote would see as well. Or perhaps that cloth that bound his eyes blinded him. And the pied brute exhaled sharply at his words in mockery and was silent. It was because ‘scum’ like him that people like Onus even existed, that innocence and goodness could even persist. It was because of him that the world was able to exist, and the world was his place to rule. For his deeds, the Korean would take what was rightfully his, however transitory those rights may be. And right now, the coyote had taken that girl. A black cloud rose broodingly within him, silently thundering.
The coyote dodged his attack, but the Korean could expect no less of this fighter. And having dodged his attacks, Onus had moved too far from him. The pied brute liked his fights to commence with proximity. And so the male did not dodge the swiftly executed kick that dropped him to his knees. The black orbs watched the girl as the blindfolded opponent came up behind him. The strength of the coyote was greater than what the wolf had anticipated, but Onus was close enough. Now upon the floor, the Korean had greater stability. For a moment, the bloodied hands of the crow wolf grasped the arm of the coyote that squeezed the air from him. Then he attacked, his left arm shooting back to elbow the coyote in the solar plexus and his right reaching up, those black claws grasping with an iron grip both flesh and coat. With a shifting of his weight and a slight lift of his shoulder, the male sought to pull the coyote over him, throwing him to the ground before he would return the favor and squeeze the air from him.
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I HOLD SECRETS FLAME
Just as he was protecting Mati from this beast, so would he protect Cwmfen. Nothing would stop him from stopping this man. No matter where he was within these lands, no matter who he attacked, Onus would be there to fight him. He knew that her pack would do nothing to protect her from her father. It was lead by someone who was not much better than the creature before him. Though Haku Soul was no where near as dangerous and powerful as this wolf. He was just a rabid dog that needed to put down, like all rabid dogs. But he would be there to stand between Corvus and Cwmfen. Whether or not he would survive could not be known, but he would be there.
There had been times he had wished to be a wolf instead of the smaller cousin, but at times it worked in his advantage. He was tireless in his training and worked his muscles everyday. For a coyote, his strength and power exceeded expectations. Many a wolf had not expected such from him and they had learned the lesson hardly, with spilled blood and broken bones. As he saw the wolf drop to his knees he used that strength to help cut off his airway. The elbow knocked the air from him, but the pain of the impact did not register. He felt the claws sink into his skin and knew that Corvus was trying to flip him over. Onus also dropped to his knees, using his body weight and gravity to help keep himself from being thrown. His left hand balled into a fist and he aimed to punch the wolf low in the back, near where his kidneys would be. At the same time his mouth opened, revealing his ivory sabers, headed to sink into the beast's right arm where it met his torso.
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300+
IT IS INEVITABLE
The coyote received the punch, signified by the soft rush of breath that whispered in the space between them. But the coyote dropped to his knees before the pied brute could throw him. A slight grin curled the corners of his mouth as the brute withdrew his hand, raking his claws along the other as he did so. Corvus refrained from looking back at the coyote, knowing that he would immediately close the slight gap that would be given by his neck; it would be dangerous for him to do such a thing. For a moment the brute struggled with Onus, unable to gain a good hold upon him. There was no way in that particular situation where he would have been able to avoid that punch, and he took it silently. The black mind was vaguely aware of the pain that shot threw him as he caught his breath, the coyote’s teeth sinking into him arm. Corvus’ jaws parted in that eerie sneer as he pushed his chest out to gain more air. But the coyote was still close.
And Onus gave him that opportunity. The wolf’s arms were long enough, and he reached both hands up to hold the coyote’s head to his arm as he threw himself back. He sought to crush the other beneath him, to force him to release his hold upon him whether it was because of surprise or pain or simply to attack again (and the crow wolf did not expect it to be because of the former two). The neck of the masked creature was close enough for the crow wolf to sense to the blood that pulsed with promise beneath that skin. As the effects of that punch faded, the Korean regained more movement in his body as he twisted about, his jaws seeking the face of the vigilante. They snapped in the air with an audible crack of thunder as his hand moved to remove the arm from his neck, using pressure points and pushing the finger to the point of breaking. He was not going to allow the coyote to conquer him, and perhaps tonight he would not conquer the coyote. But that physical proximity was pushing the Korean's patience. He was tempted to push this fight to the end. Yet, that control did not allow it, and he knew that the game was not yet over.
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ooc
I HOLD SECRETS FLAME
Onus had not expected to hear any reaction from the wolf at his punch, but the contact brought him satisfaction nonetheless. As the dark man's blood leaked into his mouth a sick pleasure settled into his chest. Now I have tasted you too. Now he was not the only one to have had the other's teeth sink into his flesh. Such a wound would not be as devastating as the one that had been given to him, but it was something. His one arm was still hooked around Corvus' neck, not doing as good of job of cutting off his throat, but it was still doing some. For a moment he flexed his muscles, hoping to give the man a bit of a choke.
Suddenly they were falling back. There was nothing Onus could do to stop the wolf from using his weight to push them to the ground. This was not a good situation, but it could have been much worse. The wolf's back was still to him, which would protect him from the most vicious attacks. He didn't fool himself, Corvus would still be able to do damage, but he wasn't in as much danger as he could have been. The wolf's jaws snapped before his face, though he was not concerned. He gave one more violent clamp of his jaw's around the man's arm and then removed his mouth, jerking his head back. Onus barely noticed the methods being used to move his arm, but he obliged anyway, doing his best to rake his claws against Corvus' neck as his arm moved behind the beast. That hand now moved to grab the back of the crow wolf's head. He also moved his head, his jaws snapping at the man's left ears, hoping to rip it.
While all this was going on he was slowly squirming his body out from under the weight of his opponent, becoming ready to kick himself free.
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Slight PP; let me know if you want it changed, ^=^
300+
IT IS INEVITABLE
He could feel his blood leaving him, flowing freely into the jaws of his enemy. “Do you like it?” the tenor voice snarled from beneath the coyote’s strangling grasp. The wolf was sure that the coyote would do as much damage as he had done to him if he allowed it. And the brute sneered. Were they so different?
Corvus fell heavily upon the other. For that single moment, although the coyote did not release the hold of his jaws, things were in his favor. As Onus’ arm came free, the claws raked along his neck. His own blood jumped from his veins, excited by the elevated heart rate induced by the lust of this fight. Crimson marred the pure white of his chest as if truly showing the warning and the tainted soul of the crow wolf. Just as Onus had, the brute pulled his arm from those jaws, provoking him to do the same, to hold on and rip his flesh, to be the same. Because we are the same, those black eyes soothed as they turned. And Corvus wanted the vigilante to see, wanted the girl to see, that all creatures were the same. That even this coyote, so devoted to justice, had dipped his soul in Darkness. He wanted them to see. Perhaps that was the purpose, the cause, of this meeting. But then the masked man's jaws, having given a final clamp, released his arm.
With his arm released, the man was moving immediately. The snapping jaws of the coyote caugh his ear as he pulled back, cutting the flesh. The Korean's jaws parted as his teeth flashed, but those teeth were only a destraction. His other elbow came up to catch him under the jaw as he twisted his body, not allowing much space to come between them. The bitten arm, urged by the sinister mind, was not subdued by the injury. With his elbow still extended by the attempted blow, the hand was allowed to slide by and grab the lapels of the coyotes coat. That bitten arm pulled back to strike a blow to his ribs, to rob the precious air from the vigilante. Corvus’ knees came up as he lay upon the vigilante, expecting that one of those attempted kicks would strike soon. Where a kick may not have achieved its goal, the brute brought his fist in for another hit, pulling his torso away from the masked man’s hands that may have sought to strike him in return. With his strength and weight he held the squirming man down by the fist that held his lapel. And the wolf could not help but note the position in which he lay over the other, and those black lips twitched with the vulgarity of that thought.
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PPing him rolling away, let me know if you want it changed 
I HOLD SECRETS FLAME
It was true, they may have been similar, but they were not the same. Onus didn't kill indiscriminately. He only killed those that had done something to deserve that fate. Such as taking another life or raping someone, abusing a child. Anyone who did such things forfeit their life as far as the coyote was concerned. He didn't believe that an eye for an eye made the whole world blind. To him it was justice. Wiping those that did not respect the lives of others from the face of the earth. He knew he wasn't pure, blood stained his hands, but it was not the blood of innocents. It was the blood of criminals, and their blood deserved to be spilled. It was worthless. Just as this man's blood was worthless. He would bath himself in such blood if it meant that people like the girl hiding here was allowed to keep her innocence.
The wolf's elbow caught his jaw and jerked his head back, but all he felt was a quiet throbbing where the hit had been made. Being pinned as he was, he was unable to avoid the hit to his ribs. Air softly expelled itself from him and he felt the throbbing, but he didn't cry out, his expression did not change. It was all part of battle and he had felt such things many times. It was only afterwords that the pain would be allowed to register in his mind. Soon Corvus' body had flipped and now they were facing each other. He was being held down by the lapel of his coat and he stared into those black holes the man called eyes. He saw what ran through the other's mind as his lips twitched. Disgusting. Quietly Onus focused all of his energy into one single move. Swiftly he brought one leg up to knee the wolf right between the legs, right where it would hurt the most.
He anticipated the release of the grip on his coat and rolled out from under the wolf. The coyote got to his feet, showing no signs of wearing down, ready to go again. The man's blood dripped from his mouth and claws.
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300+
IT IS INEVITABLE
The strength in that bitten arm had not seemed to wane. Even as he twisted that fist into the ribs of that coyote, the Korean seemed tireless. Each blow that was given was given relentlessly, mercilessly, as if he believed that the goodness in the man could be destroyed. And for all the strength, this man was still a mortal, and he could still be killed—he could feel it in every moment of contact. A sneer marred his maw, clawed his lips. His daughter had fallen in Love with this. The Raven had informed him. The black soul wanted to laugh. Had she ridden him like this? Those vulgarities brought that sneer. How easy it would be. How easy it was going to be. And such simplicity would not be due to his wooing, as he had begun to do with the girl that hid in that room. It would be due to his daughter’s will. He had promised the lighter brute whom he had met upon his arrival to these lands: she would come willingly, and he would keep her.
Of all attacks, that one was not anticipated. A hissing growl escaped the pied wolf’s jaws. His hands released the coyote as he moved back into the desk behind him, half standing half crouching. The black orbs were wild and feral for a moment as the snarl lost its mocking touch, becoming only a vicious, cruel distortion. His wrists were crossed before him, held in the air above his stomach as he breathed that hissing breath of a snake. Those eyes watched the masked enemy as the dull, red pain kept him bent over. But the pain was both excruciating and satisfying, that sinister mind held suspended, unable to chose a single response and wanting both. The black wolf’s head was held low, even in his optime form adopting that feral pose. There was a quiet growl that rolled in the room. And suddenly it turned into that laughter. Slowly, the Korean straightened himself with that gelid ease. It was as if he were enjoying some private joke. And perhaps he was. Perhaps the joke was that this was not the end. He stood facing the doorway with Onus blocking his way, but the girl was close enough.... The brute was still, silently challenging the male to come to him, to finish the fight that was not yet meant to be finished, to leave open to him the path to the girl, to allow that mission to fail.
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I HOLD SECRETS FLAME
Evoking such a response from the crow wolf was satisfying. Also had been hitting him in the place he had meant to use as a weapon against the girl. Against Cwmfen as well. He didn't know if any man could stand the pain of such a blow, especially unanticipated. He doubted he could. There was a sensitiveness to that area that could not simply be willed away. It provoked a instinctual response. You're not invincible either you bastard, he thought, stoic face set upon the seething, snarling creature. You may be other worldly, but you're made of flesh and bone just like any other. Corvus wasn't even able to come up with a remark to that, it seemed. That was better. He preferred his enemies silent, not blathering on. It didn't distract him, he just found it annoying. Like a fly buzzing at his ear. Certainly not a distraction and not enough to get under his skin. Just an inconvenience.
Of course soon the beast's growls turned back into the mirthless laughter that he so seemed to enjoy. Onus sensed it too. This was not the final battle. It was only another step along the way. His true mission tonight was not to defeat Corvus. It was to protect the girl. Silently he was being challenged to forget that purpose, but it was useless of the wolf to try. That purpose beat within his chest, stronger than the hottest flame. Slowly and carefully he moved his position be stand directly in front of Mati, never showing his enemy anything but his front. If Corvus wanted the girl, he would have to kill Onus to get her and he knew tonight was not that night. He continued to stare at those black orbs, his face unmoving. Leave. For tonight this was over. Their deadly dance would continue another day.
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