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Jac.
The concrete felt odd beneath his paws, almost as if he had never felt it before. It had been almost a month since he had been to the city, and he was sure if he had missed it or not. Gold eyes passed over the broken buildings, the cracked streets and haze of rain that had been cast over the landscape. The man had looked in many different places along the coast, a tall tower and a network of caves to name the ones he remembered best. But the one he sought could still not be found. Walking slowly through the narrow streets he found that no he was no longer on a dyer search but a leisurely stroll.
He had begun to wonder if he would ever find their King, but just as he was beginning to give up on the idea of finding him Heath thought of the one who had asked him to search for Jac. The blind wolfess filled his mind’s eye and for a moment he held her there. It was important to find the King, to know that he was safe and find out why he had gone missing. Walking a bit faster Heath let something catch his eye, and looked through the broken window of a small store, or what was left of it. He paused, taking in the sight of the bottles that were left on the shelves. They spoke to him, calling his name and when he saw the large clear handled bottle he had to turn and run in order to break away.
That wasn’t who he was, not anymore. It was mature to know that alcohol was not his escape or the answer to the insecurities that ravaged his being. Instead the male turned down a dark street, and entered the nearest door. He would return to his search and find their leader and return home. Maybe he would go see Ruri, take his mare and see if she would want to meet her. He let the thoughts fill his mind as he entered the dim building.
300+
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Jacquez smacked his lips appreciatively, licking the spicy traces of meat from his claws. This city was a treasure trove, to be sure. Who would have guessed that sealed metal tins could contain food that was still edible? Humans had been gone for who knows how long, already little more than a fairy tale to the new generation of canines, but still traces of them could be found throughout the post apocalyptic territory. Being unable to read, the self-absorbed leader could not correctly identify the meal he consumed as pepperoni, but he relished the chewy texture of the dried treat, the finesse required to create such a snack. Humans must have lived as kings.
Scavenging for food like a common stray was all well and good, but how long was he to stray from his territory? Affairs should be left in Svara's capable claws, and dear Ruri had been separated from him before. She was surrounded by friends now, and she told him herself that she was happy here. It might have been careless of him to drift away for longer than expected, but... he had always been a creature who acted on impulse. His impulse now was to explore without any duties tying him down. And also to let his fractured knuckles fully heal, from when he had slugged a hole into the cabin wall. He was too impatient to try bandaging his only hand, and besides, it was just swollen and bruised and bleeding... Had Haku Soul actually been present during the briefing, the proud king would have happily busted his hand on the blue-eyed bastard's skull. As it were, the hand-built cabin took the brunt of it. And since his white-sleeved hand had all but healed by now, surely the drafty wall had been repaired as well...?
Carelessly, the tall dog swayed on his footpaws, weaving out of the old warehouse he had been perusing and out onto the cracked pavement. Rain puddles squished beneath his pawpads, the warm haze of evaporation bleeding the colours from the shadowy city. The humidity reminded the monarch of his southern home, rife with swamps and rain and sweltering heat. All he needed now was more booze... He had quaffed a dusty bottle of red wine that had been stowed in the box with the pepperoni, but that weak grape juice barely gave him any buzz. It was not the friendly looseness that he was accustomed to - it just made him need to urinate. A creaking sound ahead of him made his fringed ears snap forward - someone had entered the building in front of him. Eager for company, the one-armed man padded over the dark threshold after the silhouette, obsidian gaze peering into the gloom.
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ohhh they're funny!
How did he end up here again? Heath looked at the dimly lit room, for that was all it really was. He took a few steps forward, remembering the last time he had stepped through the door and the beast that he had met there. Haven had been the one to greet him, drunk off his ass. They had spoken of their sires and the hate that they shared for them. Looking at the dark wooden bar Heath noticed how his father hadn’t been in his mind for sometime, not since joining his new pack. It was the home he had found and the collie woman that kept those dark thoughts at bay, and now when he looked at the broken and half drain bottles along the back wall behind the bar that brought them forward again.
The door opened behind him, and his gold eyes found a tall figure standing in the doorway. There was a falter in his stance, slight and almost unnoticeable. Heath took a smooth step backwards, and felt the touch of the bar at his back. It was not from surprise but there was only so much room in the dive bar’s entrance. The black and brown hybrid looked at the one armed male that stood before him. “Jacquez.” The name passed his lips and he was too startled that the male was actually here to be happy to have found him. Instead of questioning him, for he had no right to question a king, Heath offered. “You want a drink?” If he had the missing King in his presence, he wanted to keep him. And he was no woman, so there was only other way.
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<3
"Now that is an excellente way to greet someone, Heath," the self-proclaimed king said with an insidious smile, sauntering without hesitation to one of the barstools. He had been in this bar before, several times - usually to purloin the flavored liquors that the humans had kept stocked during their time. He had his own moonshine whiskey station now, hidden in a cavern of the Pirata Grotto deep in his kingdom, but he was lacking the rare ingredient he needed most - the yeast. He could not ferment the mash without it, thus: he'd had no reason to return there, either. He could wander without responsibility.
After a moment of sniffing over the counter at the dusty stock and fingering through the bottles, he found himself curious as to why Heath was here. The coy-wolf had the underlying scent of his kingdom, but considering all the frequent trespassing he did without incurring any sort of negative response, Jac assumed he had become a sort of squatter. It never occurred to the mad king that Heath had stepped up and joined the pack while he was on his sabbatical. It definitely didn't occur to him that the reason behind it was his own Ruri. His mind was elsewhere. For the moment.
"Did you come here for the drinks as well?" he settled on, flashing black-and-brown male a knowing smile. This was the most reliable place to find alcohol. Haven had taught them both. The one-armed Optime looped his claw into the handle of a small glass flask, the clear liquid within it sloshing temptingly. "It looks like water... but it smells like fire," he remarked in a pleased fashion, his sensitive nose wreathed in the aroma of vodka. This dinghy, dirty dive bar was like home away from home to him.
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<3 !!!!
“I’m glad you approve your Grace.” Heath spoke, with formality and sarcasm laced in the words. The male held respect for Jac, even more so knowing the love Ruri had for him and yet it was hard to be as formal as a King demanded and deserved. The dog deserved it, but didn’t demand it. It made Heath want to give him titles, but also made the hybrid feel foolish once he did. Instead the male would speak it with a casual and humor filled tone. The red hued collie sat before the bar, and Heath watched as he took the bottle from the wall. They would find no whiskey here, for its last resident had cleared the place of it. The clear bottle looked heavy in his paw, and Heath torn his eyes away and searched for a cup.
The half sized glass sat between the males, and Heath took the bottle to pour for the King. Moving the glass closer to the other Heath spoke, “No, not exactly.” The scent of the vodka touched his nose, and he found that he wanted a glass more then anything in creation. It was his drink of choice. Fire indeed. But once it hit the stomach it was the caress of a heated hand along his spine. It filled the mind with a haze, and ease that wished all thoughts away. The numbness of the lips, the heavy eye lids and the dulling of every nerve. And just the scent made him crave its touch. “I was looking for you. They say that you have been missing.” Gold eyes moved from the glass that he had been staring at and to the face of the male.
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I fail! ;__; But now I can make hover-translations, yayy....
Jacquez had rarely used a cup before; utensils were a luxury in the south, and besides, it was an unnecessary step for a one-armed Optime to try to pour the contents of a bottle into something else he could not steady. But Heath deftly performed the task with ease, both men keenly drawn to the spicy aroma that wafted from the strong drink. Jacquez licked his lips instinctively, eying the glass as the amber-eyed coy-wolf nudged it closer to him.
Unable to resist any longer, under Heath's careful scrutiny, the monarch laced his fingers around the cup and tipped back his muzzle, quaffing the vodka in one fell swoop. He slammed the empty glass back to the counter, wiping his lips on his feathered arm as he barked appreciatively. "Phwoar, qui brûle! Je l'adore!" With a 'clink', the chipped old glass was nudged back towards the younger hybrid, clearly indicating whose turn it was to take a 'shot'. The stronger it was, the better it felt. At least, that was the mad king's motto.
It finally dawned on him that Heath had been speaking that whole time, not simply playing the bartender to appease the mad king. Jac paused for a moment, to let his short attention span backtrack, until he could focus on what was said. "Looking for me?" he repeated, tilting his head quizzically so that his fringed ears flopped to one side. He licked his lips, savoring the strong residual flavor before responding."Well, I have been out and about, 'seeing the sights', if you will... L'homme doit faire ce que l'homme doit faire, am I right?" His nonchalant answer was probably the best explanation he would offer... He had never had a solid reason to vanish for a month, other than wanderlust. Surely a nomad such as Heath would understand that.
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no fail. none.
The pour was seamless and effortless. Practice had made perfect with this technique. The city provided so much, and Heath had spent most of his time among the many dives that still stood. Gold eyes watched as the King took the glass back in one shot. The words brought a small smile, the French that Heath was so familiar with. The full shot glass slid towards him and he looked hard at the empty cup. Another pour; the scent, the sight, he could taste it in the air. The temptation was too great, and the male broke and took the shot. Admirablement He said with a brief smile. The guilt flowed, and yet the warmth in his stomach was comforting. An old friend that Heath had missed.
And another. Heath pulled the pour up high, the arch of the vodka flowing from the tapered spout. A nod, “Yes.” He had been looking for him, and now that the male had him Heath would make the King hear his plea. Return to the packlands, if only to bring a smile upon Ruri’s face. They needed him of course, but that was why Heath searched. It was to please the female, and the hybrid would do what ever it took to do so. “L'endroit d'un Roi est dans son Se conserver” he said with a light, almost teasing voice . It wasn’t his place to scold the high placed male, and so he wouldn’t.
“Ruri worries.” His voice more serious and said with more weight while pushing the glass towards the other male.
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Heath downed his first shot, and now the two men were even, savoring the burn that warmed their bellies, and feeling the thirst creep into their throats. Jacquez watched with greedy eagerness as the alcohol splashed into the clouded glass for a third time, his turn. He could never get enough, not really. Drinking made him more clever, made the words flow more smoothly to his silver tongue. Without it he was... normal. And that would not do. Not at all. His fiery tail waved behind him, thumping against the stool he sat upon, awaiting his next indulgence as his companion waxed poetic in their natural tongue. (Or at least, he believed it was his natural tongue - he had been able to speak snatches of French for as long as he could remember. He had no recollection of where he had learned it, though.)
Heath's last utterance, serious in tone and coupled with the return of the drinking glass, made Jac pause for a moment. His dark eyes squinted, studying the coy-wolf carefully, his white-marked fingers drumming on the bar counter. "Of course she does," he replied casually, as though it were the most obvious fact in the world. Ruri worried about everything and everyone, all of the time. It was her 'thing'. She had always been a fretful and clingy little one, only at ease when she was touching those she cared about.
"But... why do you know this? Why does it matter so?" The two had mentioned each other before, but he had dismissed it as Ruri caring too much for a stray again, as she had with Haven... and Heath the wanderer being charmed by her naivety. And perhaps that still rang true, but now the monarch was growing wary. Did this scruffy hybrid take advantage of Jac's absence and visit the blind girl more frequently...? He liked Heath, for his attitude and his accent and his good taste, but... there was a limit to how close others were allowed to get to Ruri. Huffily, he closed his claws around the glass, swallowing his share of vodka.
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400+
The hybrid leaned against the bar. It had been some time sine he had drank, and though the feels had not set in yet, the taste alone made him need the freedom and the lack of control that the vodka would bring. Had the King known it was his favorite? Did he want to have him fall from sobriety and into the faults that he tried so hard to correct? Correct for one woman. It was too good, and what evil could he get into when beside the leader of their pack? Besides, without it he was nothing but the memories that haunted him.
Gold eyes watched the high placed leader; the look on his face was not one that he had seen lately. The last time he had Heath had been trespassing. It was suspicion. The Dreamer’s look at him in this way. They had called him out on his faults and talked down to him even though they had been the leashed dogs under the command of a bitch. His King could not look at him in the same way, right? Jac would not think him a rogue. But, he had been gone and did not know where his loyalties were placed. Was this how he knew, and why it mattered? “I call your home mine as well, now… Svara had accepted me.” the words came as if they would dissolved the question that had been asked. But as he looked at the dog his face made his fear truth. There was no way to leave it unanswered.
“It matters,” the male spoke with a hard tone that leaked the truth. She made him so; made him someone that he had strived to be. Honest and true, and now Heath could not lie. “She told me to find you.” Eyes that had fallen to the bar looked back up the collie. “Asked.” he corrected. She would never tell him to do something. With the sweet woman is always a request and that was only one of the reasons he would not deny her. Something kept him from doing so, and Jac had just asked him to confront it and worse, say it aloud. “Bringing you home will make her happy. She loves you.” Ruri wanted Jac more then she wanted any one.
The glass was full, suddenly, and as if a friend returning to comfort him. The talk made him uncomfortable and the sparkle of the vodka winked and said that it would all be okay. Down it went.
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kick Miyu in the paaants~ because she never repliiiieees~
she is made of faaaiiil~ even if she triiieees~!
Heath had already quaffed his glass of vodka before Jacquez decided to grace him with a response. He waited impatiently for the bottle to be returned to his empty claws, but it did not come. Heath needed it more than he did, to cut the tension that only he felt. Sighing in a huff, the alcoholic king let his brief attention span return to the conversation at hand. Ruri had assigned the wanderer - no, packmate - to hunt him down, ask him to return. Well, he had never really left, just been living as a bohemian for a few weeks. Was he really missed that much?
"Yes, Ruri loves me." Jac smiled smugly, a satisfied gleam in his onyx-black eyes. If Heath was aware of that, then he would know not to come between the two collies. It was their comfort zone, both of them needing some sort of platonic love as a replacement for the family and friends they grew up without. But the mad king had not foreseen that his own frequent absences would force his Ruri to adapt and branch out, to mature, to... change. And he was not capable of changing. He would always be the same. He simply assumed that she would always be there too...
The self-centered man was never one to notice others' discomfort, though, and barely registered that the coy-wolf's demeanor and tone had grown stiff and closed-off. But his mind never lingered on one topic for too long, and soon he airily dismissed his suspicions. "So, you are one of us now! That is a pleasant surprise. I trust Svara did not give you too much trouble, eh? She can be sharp-tongued, but she means well, sometimes at least." The one-armed dog laughed at his own joke, unaware that his co-leader had deserted his kingdom. He needed to learn that he could not vanish for a month and expect his affairs to be the same as when he left them.
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<33333 no kicks, only hearts
300+
The burn. It raped his throat and then settled in his stomach with a warm buzz. It took a stomach laced with iron to keep the mass amounts of vodka down and happy. His had never been so ecstatic. He did need it, but when the King did not take the bottle and spoke those words Heath passed the cup over the bar top with a deliberate shove. The glass scrapped across the wood with an inappreciative voice and once it rested before Jac Heath filled it to the brim, and then some. A small amount fell onto the bar, and yet Heath cared more about the words that the King spoke then about the loss vodka. He had said it himself, and yet when the collie spoke the words they stung deeper then anything he had ever heard in his life. Why? Jac had every right to own such a thing, and yet Heath felt like the drink was revolting within his jut. The urge to cross the bar top and feel flesh against claw and teeth boiled among the vodka, but Heath kept his eyes calm and focused on the daze that he would soon be feeling. But still he could say nothing else on it.
“She was pleasant.” Heath assured him, like he would care. The bottle hit the oak and Heath let his eyes grace the red tinted male. He was shadowed in the dim like of the bar. It would have been dark if the lights worked, and now it was even less. But they eyes were keen to the dust atmosphere and Heath tried to see him for what he was. And why he was so loved. Focusing on the topic at hand Heath let his voice rise again, “But no longer a member.” He knew because her scent no longer lived in Ruri’s home.
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[html] http://i19.photobucket.com/albums/b171/ ... table1.png); background-position: bottom center; background-repeat: no-repeat;"> ooc: Since this is so outdated, I am ending it~ but you can have another if you want, because I love you~!
The aggressive tension in the air was evaporated at Heath's next guarded statement, although its blunt nature almost seemed like a retort... Jacquez grunted in surprise, brows furrowed. "Svara left the kingdom? For what reason? I left her in charge!" His obsidian eyes glittered with annoyance, stung that the unpredictable youth had left him high and dry. He had thought power would feed her ego, keep her happy - she had always been headstrong and bossy, so why not make it her official duty to act in such a way? But he had misjudged, it seemed, or some other factor was at play. He would later learn that Firefly's departure was the most likely reason for her disappearance - that, or Haku Soul had come to claim the rest of her scarred hide for his depraved collection.
No wonder Heath felt the need to bring his king back - they were without any nobility whatsoever to lead them! What if they were besieged? Growling under his breath, Jacquez Trouillefou rose to his impressive height, snagging the bottle from the dusty counter and taking a deep swig without waiting for the glass. "Fear not, Monsieur Heath des Miracles, I shall return to my land tonight. But first I must wet my throat!" He wiped his mouth on his white-sleeved arm, thumping the half-empty bottle back atop the counter. With an imperious flick of his feathered tail, the striking one-armed leader flashed a fierce grin at his new packmate, before striding boldly back onto the streets. He had work to do.
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