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TELL ME, ARE YOU FREE, WHEN THE FEAR FALLS ON YOU?
All welcome. Set along the eastern edge of Shattered Coast.
It was cold, rainy, and Andante had a goddamn hangover. The hybrid boy wasn’t in the most pleasant of moods, waking up with a pounding headache in some random little cove along the rocky coast. The worst part about it was that he didn't even have a clue how he could have wound up there. He must have been completely shitfaced the night before for his memory to have such a blank stretch. The thought annoyed him, and though he hated to admit it, it frightened him a little too. Usually the only time his memory skipped out on him was when he flew into a blind rage and beat the living shit out of anything that was nearby. And it was beginning to become a habit of his to console himself with booze once he regained his lucidity after such episodes. As fun as it was to kick someone's ass, at times he hated going berserk because Viola had the tendency pop up in his mind after he did. And the kicker was that she usually haunted his thoughts while he lost himself in the drinks. He just wanted her to disappear. Even putting distance between him and their old home couldn't make her go away completely, it seemed.
Dante looked around in an effort to find anything to piece together what exactly had transpired the night before. All he could spot nearby were two half-empty bottles of vodka lying within the cove and his hunting knife sticking up in the sand several feet away. He realized sorely that he had left his baseball bat and everything thing else back home, or wherever the hell else he had wandered to last night. He wondered vaguely if there was a body to be found somewhere nearby, but the combination of the heavy rainfall and his pounding head prevented him from scenting anything other than salt, water, and alcohol. Maybe he had dumped the damn thing into the ocean, he thought with a laugh. The simple action sent a sharp pain through his head and had his stomach start to flip. The doggish male groaned, pulled his knees close and rested his head against them. It didn’t do him any good, but at least he could block out the sight of that damn rain.
OH, TO BREATHE IN FIRE, AND KNOW I'M FREE
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Hope a hippie's okay. :3 Post is rushed, so not very good. >_<
The prince of deceit had been away from home for years, romping southern Canada with the peace-loving hippies that altered his state of being by the time he returned to Inferni. The years spent away had not left him nostalgic; the boy had so dramatically altered in mind and manner that Inferni was nothing but a distant memory in his absence. As Razekiel had learned, moving through life at a slow, content pace without the weight of darkness on his shoulders turned out to be much more enjoyable than how Samael was progressing. Although the straw-eyed prince had yet to see his brother, he didn't doubt that Samael had stayed the same since their last farewell.
He'd been back in Inferni for a month, restricting himself inside the borders as he tried to readjust himself to the dark, frustrating feel that the clan lands claimed in the midst of their misguided adventures. However, Razekiel was still a wanderer at heart; even while inside Inferni, the hybrid had barely been able to stop moving. There was too much nature for him to take in, even if a lot of it was dead and melancholy. Eventually, by the time he'd meandered Inferni enough to memorize it, he began to wander away from the clan to see what else this corner of Mother Earth had in stakes for him.
Unfortunately, Mother Earth called for rain, and that was what Razekiel was met with. The hippie didn't mind the rain -- actually, he quite enjoyed it -- but the constant, heavy downpour was more than enough to continually douse the cigarette between his lips. Weary of this, the boy wandered into a cove to breathe the toxic smell and, to his own surprise, found another set of eyes there... and the poor soul didn't look too good. "Woooah, man," the hippie smiled, stepping a little messily towards the stranger, "you look like you fell out of the groove, man."
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TELL ME, ARE YOU FREE, WHEN THE FEAR FALLS ON YOU?
A hippie is just fine, as is your post!  So sorry for being late, late, late.
The doggish male sat like that for a while, comforted slightly when his headache was reduced to a dull pounding that almost matched the rhythm of the rainfall. Sitting idly in the cove felt wonderful, but Andante knew he would have to get out of there eventually. He had just began to think about what his plan of action would be when a voice called out, so close that it could only have come from there in the cove. He winced at the sound, head pounding from the unexpectedness of it. He groaned, both from the pain and from the realization that he now had some unexpected and rather unwanted company.
Dante remained as he was for a moment, as if ignoring the presence of the stranger would make him simply disappear. Finally he resigned himself to lifting his head from its perch on his knees and turned his amethyst gaze to the stranger. He squinted at the man, taking in all of his unruly features: the piercings, well-worn clothing, dreadlocks, and the cigarette resting between his lips. The stranger was soaked, likely stepping into the cove with him to seek refuge from the downpour. That meant it wasn’t likely that the man would be so quick to leave Dante alone. He sighed, but sat up straighter. “Yeah, guess ya could say that,” he said, voice a bit raspy. He cleared his throat quickly, hoping to remedy that. His gaze drifted up to the stranger’s own straw-colored eyes, but the sight of that cigarette soon had his attention again. “Say… ya wouldn’t happen ta have an extra smoke on, ya?” he asked hopefully. He supposed that something good could possibly come out of this after all.
OH, TO BREATHE IN FIRE, AND KNOW I'M FREE
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He was eventually greeted by the stranger, though there was some pause that Razekiel hardly seemed to notice. When met with his odd, violet eyes, the coyote's smile beamed and he crept closer quickly when the stranger finally began to speak. He had an odd accent to him, a strange manner of speech that was oddly intriguing; Razekiel had, of course, never stopped to realize that his own mannerisms were rather unique to the world around him.
"Totally," the coyote replied, moving hastily to dig a hand into his knapsack. He felt around in it briefly before revealing a half-filled carton of cigarettes; he'd found it some time ago, as he always did. Rummaging through the humans' leftovers always revealed treasures. Razekiel tossed the lighter at the stranger but handed the cigarette carefully, as if the stick itself was made of gold. "So why the frown, brother? Establishment gettin' you down, yeah?"
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TELL ME, ARE YOU FREE, WHEN THE FEAR FALLS ON YOU?
The stranger made a quick approach and it made the hangover-dazed Dante a little weary at first. The man turned out to be a rather friendly and giving soul, pulling out a lighter and a pack of cigarettes without hesitation. This put the loner at ease and he began to relax as he reached out to catch the lighter, fumbling with it for a moment. When the cigarette itself was passed over, he held it carefully in his hand as he moved to light it. It had been a while since he’d enjoyed one of these and he didn’t plan to let it go to waste. He took a quick inhale from the thing and savored the warmth it filled him with. He exhaled with a slow and content sigh before looking back up at the friendly stranger and offering him the lighter back. “Thanks, man. I needed that,” he said, one of those rare, genuinely grateful smiles on his face.
Now that his head was somewhat cleared and he felt a little more settled, he was feeling more up to answering that question the stranger posed–that is, if he could decipher some sort of meaning from it first. This guy seemed to talk in riddles or something, bringing up some establishment into the mix that had Andante second-guessing what he was really asking. “I dunno anything ‘bout any “establishment,” but this is all self-inflicted misery right here,” he said with a slight shrug of his shoulders, motioning to the bottles of vodka lying a short distance away. Once you take in all the pieces of the puzzle, the picture should be crystal clear. As for the exact reason the alcohol was even in the picture in the first place, not even Dante could say for sure. He had his good few guesses of course, but they sure as hell didn’t make for pleasant conversation with strangers.
OH, TO BREATHE IN FIRE, AND KNOW I'M FREE
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"Oh, vodka! Sweet gifts of Mother Earth!" Razekiel hardly knew better than to proclaim his excitement without hesitation, his voice likely too loud for the aching stranger. The coyote wobbled hastily to the bottles that had been pointed out to him. Much to his dismay, however, they were empty and abandoned, and his shoulders sank quickly. "Bummer, man," was mumbled beneath his breath before the coyote quickly situated his glasses on his nose and turned back around.
Returning to his comrade, the hippie dropped to the floor quickly, crossing his legs and leaning back onto his palms. "So why the boozin', love? You got heartache, yeah?" Razekiel adopted a quick pout. "I drank myself silly with heartache once, man. It's a bad idea, man. You shouldn't do that anymore. Booze is meant to be enjoyed, man, and you shouldn't mess with the booze."
All of a sudden, his head began to whirl with dizziness, and the coyote put a hand to his twirling head and exclaimed through a grin, "Woaaaah, ah... hahaha! Groovy, man!" Clearly, it hadn't even occurred to him that he still hadn't even asked for the stranger's identity... nor presented his own. This was a common problem.
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TELL ME, ARE YOU FREE, WHEN THE FEAR FALLS ON YOU?
This is rambly and late. :[ 521
Andante immediately flinched when the stranger excitedly declared his love for the drink that had left the doggish male in such a sorry state, face immediately setting into a grimace from the noise. The unexpected outburst caught him off guard and that made the sudden throbbing in his skull feel even worse. He groaned and rubbed at his temples for a moment, hoping to soothe the sudden flare in pain at least a little bit. “Geez, man,” he mumbled miserably. If he hadn’t been feeling so miserable, he might have tossed a nasty comment the stranger’s way. Besides, being “stuck” in this cave with him during the downpour wouldn’t be any more pleasant if the two males started tossing insults back and forth. And the guy had given him a cigarette, after all. Letting a few unkind words fly loose wasn’t exactly the best way to show his gratitude.
By the time Dante lifted his gaze from the ground, the stranger had situated himself on the ground nearby. He hadn’t expected to see the curious man so close to him so suddenly after his outburst and was a bit surprised, but considering how focused he had been on the pain it was understandable that he would have missed it when the stranger shrugged off his disappointment from the empty bottles and returned. The hybrid boy arched an eyebrow curiously at the stranger’s question, remaining silent as he shared a brief tidbit about his own trouble with the fiery drinks at one point. When the man let loose a bout of dizzy laughter, Andante merely stared at him for a moment before grinning and shaking his head. This guy was certainly out of the ordinary. “Damn right, I shouldn’t mess with the booze.” Would he actually control himself and mess with the stuff in moderation next time? Not likely, but it was a nice thought to entertain.
As he thought about the booze, his thoughts began to drift again to the possible reasons why he would have gotten so goddamn drunk. It was usually linked to anger, and more often than not that stemmed from his last memories of his days in New York. Was it really heartache? Was this whole act of his just the way he handled it? The doggish male could hardly think of any other explanation. “I guess some sorta heartache’s th’ cause,” he began slowly, unsure if he really wanted to share this little bit about him with his new acquaintance. Dante didn’t often speak to others, and seldom did he open up to them when he did. But hell, he figured, what could it hurt? It wasn't as if there was anything better for them to do at the moment. “Probably was rememberin' my sister. Didn’t really treat her right last I saw ‘er,” he finally continued with a shrug. Yeah, nearly killing her wasn’t the best way to treat her. That was one hell of a roundabout way to put it. “Don’t really remember if that’s the reason, though. Memory’s kinda a blank. I really shouldn’t have messed the booze,” he commented with a laugh.
OH, TO BREATHE IN FIRE, AND KNOW I'M FREE
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"I guess some sorta heartache's the cause," his friend admitted, then mumbled on something about a sister. Razekiel was still flourishing in the dizziness of his head, but his grin withered a little as Andante spoke in such a melancholy tone. Though the spinning of his head had yet to cease, Razekiel tried to piece two and two together: What did heartache have to do with a sister? He'd said they'd not separated on good terms, but they were siblings, and all siblings fought a little. He and Samael had certainly had their unromantic bouts in their childhoods, though Razekiel now could barely remember them, if that wasn't obvious enough.
"Bummer, man... What happened?" His shoulders sagged some, a clear sign that the hippie still had a level of compassion and sentimentality even when buzzed and rambunctious. The coy was serious enough; his straw eyes looked at the stranger intently, smile for now faded -- but his torso wiggled in circles subtly, evident that his head was still twirling. "I haven't found my brother yet, man, and my sister's long gone. You should be grateful, man."
He paused briefly before extended a wobbly, unsteady hand. "I'm Razekiel. Razekiel Lykoooooi." And the wide, toothy smile reappeared. It had been a long time since he'd been called a Lykoi again.
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