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Private, Pendzez. Hill of Graves.
Ever since his intial meeting with Jantus, Jefferson had been growingly curious of the dead ghouls in the pack's cemetery. Its locate was thankfully remote and out of the way; though the trip to visit it was a bit tedious, the cyclops was grateful that the cemetery was hidden within the trees out in the distance where "dropping in on it" was unlikely. It was difficult to preserve and protect a bunch of unspeaking graves when they had no mouths to scream with and the Patriarch was further distracted by tending to his still-living underlings, but regardless Jefferson always worried that something unfortunate would come across the graveyard. The last thing he wanted, ultimately, was to come across the boneyard strewn apart and completely ruined, the graves disturbed and corpses unearthed. The cyclops had seen many lifeless things in his time, many dead by his own fault, and with that experience he knew the respect necessary for those dawdling in the afterlife.
As he had expected, however, the cemetery was eerily silent and untoyed with as it always was. The graves were unmoved and stilled, the air chilled with the beginnings of December, and the earth hardened from the cold. The air in the cemetery was always slightly colder than that in the surrounding area, mostly due to the noticable lack of sunlight that the wall of trees bordering the boneyard cut off in their canopies. He wondered briefly about Skoll as he walked through, taking a few minutes to stare listlessly at the dead man's marked grave before wandering on, mind clouded with the musings of a one-eyed idiot curious about the afterlife. He smirked, very quickly, as he wondered if the dead bragged about their life adventures with one another after they'd passed on.
That smile faded quickly when he thought of Iskata, however. Her life hadn't been easy in the least; there was nothing for her to brag about. She was raped, her children hated her at one point or another, and she's struggled with Inferni for most of her life. Somewhere along the way, the poor woman had died, but the cyclops had never found out how or why or when. Such questions bruised innocent thoughts every day, yet Jefferson knew too much time had passed for he to ever find out just what happened to the blind woman in the end and why she'd never come home. If she had just made it back, perhaps he would have been visiting her instead of some long-lost hero he'd never even heard of but the rest of the world adored.
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Pendzez walked into the Hill of Graves, a place where the humans were buried when they died. He was reckoning that he was gonna find some spirit butterflies here, but no. Instead, his four guardian spirits didn't even enter beyond the fence line of the cemetery. It was strange. Why would the spirits avoid coming into the cemetery. Were they able to see ghosts? Were they afraid of ghosts? Pendzez didn't believe in ghosts, since he believes that spirits are butterflies after leaving their physical body. He was a higher spirit, but he was still physical, not spiritual.
Pendzez walked along the path, picking up a scent of another wolf, luckily a Phoenix Valley, in the area where he was. He looked around, finding a familiar wolf that he hasn't seen in a long time. It was Jefferson. Pendzez seemed pleased to see the leader after a while. He began to approach the one-armed cyclops, "Hey jefferson."
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Needless to say, Jefferson hadn't prepared himself to see hide nor tail of any other living creature in the boneyard, sans a scavenging and misled squirrel or two hastening to finish their savings before the first snowfall. Jefferson had the wonderful tendency to focus very deeply on this and in doing so, losing all notice of the outside world around him. Thus, when he was alarmed by a voice, the cyclops nearly jumped several feet in the air and, in turning to look at its source, immediately thought he was seeing a ghost.
That aside, however, he calmed fast and exhaled deeply. "My God, Pendzez," the cyclops breathed, a hand to his chest to steady himself, "I thought you were a goddamn ghost for a second there." The cyclops had heard plenty about Pendzez in recent months; in fact, the white-furred male had made himself prominent amongst the pack members, who seemed to think of him very highly. Jefferson himself had little conversation with the Nuncio -- as far as he knew, Pendzez hadn't gone looking for him and was able to handle himself well, thus the Patriarch did not worry for his safety. "You know someone here, or you just like the feel of graveyards?" Meeting in a cemetery was a little beyond eerie, to say the least.
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Pendzez at first wasn't expecting to see a living soul here in a ground, not even the leader, unless he knew someone that lies here. He thought that there would be numerous of spirits hanging around here, lost without the king's guidance, but he found none. No butterfly was in sight. Not even his guardian spirits passed the graveyard fence line. What was it about a graveyard that would frighten them.
Pendzez seemed startled when Jefferson jumped, thinking that he was a ghost. He then recuperated from the scare. Pendzez was about to give a little giggle, but he didn't want to be disrespectful. "Not even close enough." Pendzez thought now to be a good time for a conversation, which he hadn't for a long time now. "I just came for a walk." He still wanted to know what was scary about graveyards to the spirits.
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Pendzez was still rather stiff, just as Jefferson remembered him to be. The white wolf had been more casual and leisurely before the cyclops had taken on leader ranks; the first conversation the two shared, when they both had joined the Valley just days apart, had been brutally honest and almost philosophical. That had been over a year now, yet Jefferson still remembered it like yesterday -- mostly because he and the white wolf had barely spoken more than in passing since. They were on two different worlds somehow, and yet physically bound to the earth so conveniently close to each other at that very second.
Jefferson wasn't a skeptic and didn't believe in ghosts, but the cyclops was still affected by the eerie flow of air even in the stillest of cemeteries. Taking a leisurely stroll through an area completely devoid of sunlight and all happiness was not exactly his way of spending free time. For the sake of curiosity and shooting the shit, the cyclops glanced down at a tombstone as his palm was laid atop it. "What do you think of the afterlife, Pendzez?" The white wolf had some interesting opinions to accompany his jolly demeanor -- his answer would be an interesting one, regardless. Even after all this time, Jefferson was still the die-hard analyst he rarely revealed himself to be.
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Pendzez remembered when the two first met. The day seemed to be long ago now. Pendzez was young then. Now, he's was more mature, taking his responsibilities more into action. However, him and the cyclops existing in two differing realms, yet the worlds were linked together on one earth, bounded closer than they think. However, the two need to speak more to each other more often.
Pendzez wasn't really one to say ghosts exist, however he was starting to think they are is the spirits are too scared to come into the cemetery. Afterlife was a some way another form of life after dying. Pendzez had no reason to think that afterlife was real, however is that what the butterflies are? Afterlife for the dead. "A place where the spirits may live after leaving the physical body upon death."
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The answer he received was less than glamorous, but the Patriarch kept his opinions to himself for once. Pendzez had some interesting opinions on different things; perhaps the cyclops had been expecting something more out of him, something Jefferson could argue with. He wasn't surprised when the white wolf kept his lid shut, however. The way Pendzez was restricting himself, Jefferson could more easily see why he'd first been mistaken for a ghost.
"Uh-huh," he trailed, but the Nuncio didn't continue with anything further. Jefferson frowned, bent down, and dusted away dirt and grime from the face of a headstone. "The way I am, I wonder how many spirits are trying to damn me and how many are trying to stop them... and how many of them I couldn't place a name for." That was the curse of amnesia: he could have been staring into the headstone of his own brother's grave and not known a thing. Maluki was the oldest of five; Jefferson was the oldest of none.
He glanced over his shoulder. "What ever happened to your family? Your sister?"
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Pendzez was one to have many opinions about subjects differing from the afterlife. When it came to the fates of every living thing on this earth, he can not give any reasons, since he doesn't not control nor predicts fate. He's merely a guide and a king of spirits. The white wolf could tell that Jefferson was waiting for something from the arctic wolf, possible something he could make an arguement with. However, Pendzez didn not say anything, yet, that will get Jefferson speaking about it.
Pendzez listened to his leader as he spoke about the spirits, whether they want him dead or those who want him alive. "Spirits don't try and damn the living. In the afterlife, they do what they can to help nature grow. When they have done good enough work or when they think they're ready, they can be reborn into a new body." It was like a lecture, however Pendzez didn't want Jefferson to think he was being challenge by someone who was younger than him.
Pendzez looked at a tombstone that was infront of him. "My sister is alive. She lives in the Crimson Dreams pack now. As long as I know she is safe." Pendzez smiled at the thought that she was gonna be alright, meeting new friedns in that pack, particularly the leaders as well. One's world cannot live without friends.
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Ah. There was the opinionated response he was waiting for, a response the one-eyed idiot had, most likely, been trying to stir out of him unconsciously. He nodded understandingly as Pendzez spoke; interesting opinions or not, the white wolf was unafraid to declare his beliefs and quick to defend them. Ultimately, Jefferson could respect that.
The concept of rebirth and reincarnation, however, brought a twitch to his ear. The cyclops himself thought the idea was rather silly; it was nothing he'd ever thought too hard about. Through his single green eye, Jefferson saw each entity as a single soul, a single life form that could not be duplicated; what creature was once damned remains so. The creature that had killed Iskata would remained damned for as long as its soul remained in a cycle of reincarnation. At the same time, the wicked Maluki had not been reborn into what was now Jefferson -- but the Patriarch was just as unforgivable for his sins even if the memories could not surface.
He snapped back to consciousness after a long while lost in his thoughts. The cyclops rose again to his feet, sighed, and shrugged. "Reborn? I'd hate to think of the damned and dead humans being cycled into the bodies of my kids." He pointed an eye at Pendzez, the new father. "Who do you think got recycled into your pups, Pendz? Butterflies and squirrels?" He rolled his shoulders and glanced away; no, Jefferson was getting sharp instinctively again. There was no need, and he was quick to restrain the sarcasm he'd been working to damper, for Geneva's sake.
Jefferson cleared his throat. "At least you can trust her," he muttered, forcing some sort of warped smile. "I wasn't so lucky." With Mew and Haku untrustworthy, Laruku dead, and the rest of his siblings out of commission, Jefferson had barely any relatives to turn to with trust -- even despite the multitude there were out there.
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Pendzez somehow saw that Jefferson respected Pendzez's belief's. Pendzez wasn't really surprised. He noticed that, ever since Geneva became a sub-leader, Jefferson has been somehow more... kind and less grumpy. It was noticeable, however, Pendzez knew that Geneva was a great influence on him. Pendzez knew that one day he would be more happy, even if it's in strange ways.
Pendzez remained silent as he somehow got the idea that sinners become become reborn into innocence. That was wrong. "Evil and damned have no place in the afterlife. Those that remain evil are bound to the darkness that is in their hearts. There is light and there is dark. It's up to us to decide what path we choose."
Pendzez can always trust his sister. Though they have not seen each other in months, he can still trust her. "She is someone I can trust. She has not lied to me once." Pendzez had sympathy for the cyclops. "Who was she? Your sister?"
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Pendzez was quick to correct him, which the Patriarch partially expected; there was no way the righteous, just white wolf would let his leader get away with accusing his newborns as plausible demonic spawn. Jefferson's tattered ear twitched some, unimpressed by the Nuncio's response; so it was up to Jefferson himself whether or not he was good enough to be reborn when the afterlife was ready for him? Bullshit. The cyclops had little faith in spirits, but when it came to his own fate, he knew it didn't fall in his grasp. The cyclops had barely been able to grasp what had already happened to him, what with the amnesia and such. Redemption for his sins was already long past. "Well," he shrugged, "solved that loophole." And that was the end of that.
"I have several siblings, most of which aren't around and all of which I don't remember from my youth." Green eye glanced over the headstones. Were any of them buried here? Was any of his family resting beneath the soil, potentially inches away from his feet? Even if they were, the cyclops probably couldn't identify them, nor ever put a face to their names. "Two of my younger step-siblings live in Dahlia, but neither of them are trustworthy. My adopted brother is dead." Laruku had been adopted, yes, but Jefferson couldn't remember it. They'd been close once, but that was just another memory and experience his amnesia had robbed from him.
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Pendzez looked to a tombstone that had a name of a human, his title, and his year of birth to death. Leaning down in front of the stone, the white wolf examined the stone. A formal tradition by the humans, which wolves have adopted. Pendzez had no hatred or anger to the cyclops, nor does he show jealousy, however he didn't want to have his family insulted, even if it's someone higher than him. Jefferson showed no belief in spirits and the force of light and dark, even no redemption of sin. in his voice. He chose to remain quiet.
Pendzez listened on as the Patriarch explained about his family. He lost most of his siblings, those who are alive he can't trust must be hard to have family like that. "Soul? One of them ain't Haku Soul?" The name was in his memory, so was the wolf.
[html] Pendzez probably shouldn't know Jefferson's real name, btw. He's never told him. But I'll go along with it.
Jefferson glanced at the white wolf quickly when Pendzez was able to produce his last name from the blue; Jefferson knew himself to be Maluki Soul, that was indeed his birth name, but it was known only to a few individuals. The cyclops had never introduced himself as a Soul but simply Jefferson; he was connected to that family by blood alone. The Maluki they'd once known no longer existed, replaced only by the one-eyed monster that didn't deserve the family that had once loved him. Thus he was, and never would be, Jefferson Soul -- but simply Jefferson. He was simply a Soul by the blood in his veins.
"Yes," the cyclops said slowly, a suspicious eye falling on the white male. Not only was Jefferson alarmed that Pendzez knew of his indentity -- or half of it, anyway -- but he also knew of Haku. He couldn't be blamed for this, however; it would be more surprising if he didn't. Haku had earned himself quite the reputation, and most likely many of his underlings and comrades could see correlations between the cyclops and the Dahlian leader. "Haku is my youngest step-brother, as far as I know. I'm sure you can see why he can't be trusted." He sighed. "To think he leads a pack and everything. How someone like him can do it, I can't imagine." Somehow, he was doing something right -- Dahlia had far more members than the Valley, and it always had.
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OOC: If your talking about Maluki Soul, that wasn't what I was talking about. I was talking about Jefferson. He would have mention his last name when the two first met right?
Jefferson seemed surprised when Pendzez gave Jefferson last name. Why would he give the white male a glance at the mention of Soul. Then again, did Jefferson even mention his last name? Pendzez was sure now, since it was a long time ago when the two first met. However, the Patriarch seemed explain more about Haku.
Jeffers mustn't really like Haku if he wasn't trustworthy. Pendzez remembered his first encounter with Haku, but it wasn't really nice, since Pendzez was chased out. It would have been obvious, since Pendzez kind of walked in without permission. "I can see that he can't be trusted, I think."
[html] Nope, Jefferson has never introduced himself as Jefferson Soul. XD He doesn't consider himself as part of the family since he's not technically Maluki anymore, thus he is just Jefferson. :3
"Well, the only thing we can do is wait and see," the cyclops resigned, heaving a long breath. Haku was mystifying in his own way; Jefferson had barely met Mew, but at least the two of them had already decided their conflicts and parted ways peacefully. As for Haku, however, the cyclops simply couldn't predict. Whether or not family ties mattered at all to his half-brother were beyond him, but considering Haku had not once shown his face or hailed for the Valley leader since their initial meeting, well, Jefferson could only assume the worst.
"But," the cyclops continued, turning his single eye to Pendzez, "that's why I have members like you and Tyrone here. In case of an emergency, I know who I can trust with characters like my brother running around." He glanced away and sighed once more.
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Haku was some kind of a being, more than a mere wolf. There was something else that resided inside the chocolate wolf that was not of the light. Pendzez only seen Haku once, but that first and only encounter was enough to convince Pendzez that he was of the dark. One more servant for the Dark Spirit. However, those bound to the dark, are someone Pendzez can change.
The white wolf turned his gaze to the leader. Himself and Ty were considered to be trustworthy to protect the pack is Haku came to cause trouble. "So, to simplify what you said, you can trust me and Ty to deal with Haku if he came to cause trouble?"
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Jefferson paused. Why did this need repeating? The cyclops wasn't so open and willing to give out his personal thoughts and beliefs often; the fact that he had to go over it a second time brought a twitch to his ear. This was, of course, because Jefferson was easily perturbed -- a cranky old gimp, as he was. The cyclops considered his handicaps to be enough reason to be grumpy, and thus he was.
"Correct," the hybrid responded, planting his good hand to his side. "Though I don't see that as happening anytime soon. Haku's been doing some odd things lately, but he's never really regarded the Valley for anything. I doubt he'll be pestering us anytime soon, although with his current behavior, one can never be so sure."
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Maybe we should finish up? It's been open since mid-November lol 
Pendzez at the tombstone in front of him, the writing that was engraved on it to signifiy that someone was resting in peace here. The stone of cement it felt like from the roughness, just like some wolves in this world To the arctic male Luperci, Haku was considered to be one of them. "Though, I can't shake the feeling that something is gonna happen sometime soon. I feel he would be part of the cause. Best be ready for when that happens."
Pendzez then stood up, stretching his legs and arms so he could get back to his duties of the day. With a mlight turn, he turned his crimson orbs upon the Patriarch "Well Jefferson, I must attend back to my duties. Farewell for now, til we meet again, friend." It was then that Pendzez did a formal bow and took his leave upon the old road that lead out of the cemetry.
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