it's trouble and it's in our road

Larkspur D'Angelo · 12-19-2009, 09:51 PM

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    She was gone.

    Larkspur had realized it the day he had finally returned from the city, crushed by the rejection. His head spun wildly, and a great rift had cracked his skull in two. There was still his horse, still what he needed to survive. She had left him that. Why, though, she had left, he did not understand. He had needed her. There was no further instruction, nothing to tell him if he had done wrong.

    Until he saw it.

    Perched on a stone, offset amongst the snow, was a small and beautifully detailed figure. It was no larger then two inches, but it radiated power. The eagle was made of a material that Larkspur did not recognize, and he almost dreaded to touch it. But she had left it for him, because that was the Will. As he reached out, his large hand hesitated only momentarily, afraid the icon might hold a dangerous power, but found it cold and lifeless. This did not change its power in his mind; Larkspur knew what he was cradling was can tah, and that alone was power. She had left him with purpose, but not left him alone.

    Under his hair, which now had begun to turn pale blonde (and thinned considerably from the damage) his Jack-O-Lantern eyes suddenly turned terrible. There was power in the stone god. Tak had chosen him, just as his aunt-mother had. He would find his redemption through the guidance of this artifact. Slowly, and carefully, the large wolf wrapped the icon in sinew and placed it around his neck. Only then did he feel its weight, now magnified, and realized that Misery’s teachings were true.

    Larkspur needed an heir, and he needed to ensure the D’Angelo name no longer be tainted by weak and worthless children. The black wolf’s face twisted, and turned wicked.

    In less then an hour he was moving, four-legged, and approaching an unfamiliar pack. Though he had scented them before, he had never made a point to find the source. Now, confident that he was immortal, the large wolf did not attempt to hide his presence and began scenting the very palpable border.

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Haku Soul · 12-22-2009, 12:07 PM

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How rude. 300+

Why, why, why had he waited so long before he had taken the throne. Had he known she was this weak he would have done it ages ago. A low, unconscious snarl erupted from the wicked Rosea as his large paws thundered across the landscape, trailing the border as always. His weakness and the blunt excuses he tried to soothe the dark spirit with were beyond disgusting. Failure was so close and left him negatively charged – darker and more twisted than ever. He could see them plot against him in the shadows – the pack that he had saved and served for so long! A clawed hand was rasping through his spine and caused his heart to raise its speed nowadays. It was unnatural and it was wrong, for Haku Soul had lost his ability to fear long time ago. Something was definitely off.

Perhaps it was his life force rising temporarily before death – perhaps it was an illusion of life only to be taken away much too soon. Lips twisted at this though, for he was never emotionally unstable. He was supposed to be empty. There was nothing left in the house of ghosts except for the forever weeping child sending echoes of misery off the walls. The large secui almost tripped over his own limbs when a dominant scent other than his caused his nostrils to explode. The annoyed rumble died down in his throat as the King of Dahlia de Mai instantly lowered his muzzle to inhale the scent of an unknown male. What the fuck. Head rose and blue orbs gazed furiously out into empty space for a moment before he exploded into motion.

He did not waste time erasing the loner’s scent with his own until hot crimson was all that was left. A large form painted with black and odd, almost unnatural patches of blonde with hints of orange. The twisted Dahlian’s speed lessened slightly, but he was beyond aggravated, really. ”What the fuck?” the chocolate coated Rosea tossed out with disgust. This was surely a plot of some kind! ”You want to die?” he hissed out between fully exposed fangs as ripples of delicious taint danced up his spine and filled his head with pitch black. Who was this man? The man was too distracted by these strange emotions raging within to ponder why he had not gone straight for the man's throat already.

Larkspur D'Angelo · 12-22-2009, 01:45 PM

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The thundering of an approaching stranger drew the burly wolf’s attention. Larkspur lifted his head, but his body failed to move into motion. It no longer feared pain; obvious by the sacred words carved into his arms, more so by the taunt and well-worked muscles hidden under thick fur. Like the stranger before him, Larkspur believed he was invincible. He had one thing on his side that the other man did not—the power of the can tah—but even so, he could read those baby-blue eyes clearly.
Without moving, or giving hint he intended to, the D’Angelo’s fire-fed eyes focused on the stranger and attempted to swallow him whole. Larkspur could sense the darkness radiating from the man as clearly as he could sense the power rippling through the stone eagle around his neck. He did not fear it, but he recognized it. Keeping his stance neutral, but refusing to break his gaze, the large wolf spoke. “No,” he answered simply. “I ain’t lookin’ for trouble.” He knew they were there by now, of course. Everything Misery had taught him had sunk in, and turned him deceptive. This was how to survive. “You mus’be the Dinh here.” His thick accent, a drawn-out speech that held the mountain-twang of long-dead moonshiners, fell in step with the peculiar language.

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Haku Soul · 12-22-2009, 02:21 PM

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300+

Unlike most aggressive, dominant canines, Haku Soul did not always let his throat rumble away when ignorance got the best of the weak. A twitch was all the chocolate Rosen gave as the shit eyed man’s voice attempted to contradict his recent action. It was not rare for a couple of complete morons to waltz deep into claimed territory just to boast about with their innocence. Haku always made sure the border was heavily marked. This man before him could not possibly be oblivious of the land’s ownership, and he was satisfied in an odd way when the large stranger did not dive straight into pretended ignorance. This did not soothe him in any way though, because the man had already been caught doing the crime and would have to suffer the consequences. Haku was not fond of allowing pointless conversation to stretch, but he refrained from charging at the other for now.

Large secui paws slowly brought him closer and he stalked slightly to the side to have Dahlia at his back. ”With your actions you beg for trouble,” the male hissed with poisoned voice, holding the stranger’s eyes with ease. The trespasser’s accent was filtered out as it held no importance to the Dahlian male. Haku flexed his muscles slowly, alert and ready to strike with the speed and aim as that of a snake. An insignificant part of his damaged brain silently wondered if the Dinh was the head of a pack in another language and wanted him to revel at the fact that he finally was free of Cercelee’s poor illusions of chains. His surprise was hidden away without ever reaching any surface as he realized that his vibrating anger was not beyond control. He was still standing here, still the supreme master of his own body. He did not want this to be an illusion. "Who are you?" he asked, loathing himself for not moving in to taste the oddly coated stranger's blood faster.

Larkspur D'Angelo · 12-26-2009, 06:06 PM

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Larkspur’s paws had not crossed the border. He had stopped short, intent on finding his information without breaking a landmark he did not believe in (the Khalif had never explained borders to him beyond the rules he knew) and had only learned of such through Misery. He did not miss the tension in his chocolate companion’s body, and he did not doubt that very soon he would be faced with the same aggression he had come to expect. So, slowly, his large body began to tense—waiting for the coming blows.

Only when Haku’s burly form placed itself before him did Larkspur move, taking two steps back. “Larkspur D’Angelo,” he answered, and focused his peculiar eyes on the man before him. “I only came to see what this place was,” he further explained. The scars along his forelegs shifted, runic letters and bizarre words that he alone understood, pulling tight as his muscles tensed and shifted his weight under him.

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Haku Soul · 12-27-2009, 04:31 AM

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They all wanted to mock him. They danced along the borders until they thought he would no longer see, then they would break in and stir up their usual mess. His sapphire gaze did not soften once the stranger turned out to actually have a name. The name was not strange to her and he was of course left wondering if he was in close family with either Naniko or Addison. The secui wanted to close in and see what else the brute before him possessed other than the size. ”You’re on the borders of Dahlia de Mai,” the male revealed as a quiet sigh grew in his chest. The pack of flowers and everything nice – except for the man now controlling it. He was too late for everything and was certain not to get anywhere with the remaining flock. This man in front of him was free, and the desire to finally break out into loneliness was too a desire.

”I’m Haku Soul, Dahlia’s alpha.” His voice found disgust as that last word was spoken. Cercelee had let the m fall and he was now wearing her withering crown. Why the demon insisted on this was now beyond him. He knew so little of what was lurking in his own future. The blindfold would soon drive him mad. What could the pack offer Larkspur’s curiosity? Lands filled up with emptiness and deadly jaws made by man. They had animal corpses dancing further into the lands to frighten the remaining members away. These lands were empty.

Larkspur D'Angelo · 12-28-2009, 06:53 AM

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    The stranger approached him, moving with no lack of purpose. Larkspur knew his intentions, so clearly displayed in the ritualized dominance. Even in the Khalif, they had known of such things—especially Lakrspur, so tainted by his dark fur. Except now he recognized that the grip of evil was strong here, grasping onto any and everything it could. These people allowed it and more terribly, embraced such a thing. Even in the Khalif they had fought against the Black, knowing it to be wicked. This was why he bore bleached fur and holy signs. Misery had shown him the path, but it was now necessary for him to embrace his destiny.
    Now, staring into the eyes of a devil, Larkspur realized he was not alone in this. He saw the glimmer of that same knowledge in the scarred wolf. Furthermore, the heat radiating from Haku’s body was not his own, but Tak’s fire. That was what he saw in the man’s eyes, just as he had seen it in Misery’s. Had he known the truth of the matter—had he known it was the fever-bright gaze of madness—he might have been wary. Instead, he felt no fear, but a familiarity that was unwarranted. Without a doubt, he was facing down potential disaster. Like all fools, for this was what he was, Larkspur only stared into the face of an unknown and terrible storm.
    The storm’s voice spoke, but it was not the thunder he expected. Orange eyes darkened, then refocused on the bombardier blue they were facing. “Ay, dihn then. Y’carry it,” he added, though he recognized that the man’s power was not his own. Slowly, as if waiting for a physical reaction, the burly wolf continued. “I dun’t plan t’keep you, but I’m lookin’ for m’kin.” Misery had not brought them here for nothing.

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Haku Soul · 12-30-2009, 05:27 AM

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Though he experienced pleasure whenever he came across a being with similar darkness lurking behind the scenes he no longer looked for them. More often than not they held different values than he. Corvus Vendetta had understood, but had also challenged him by taking the life of one of Dahlia’s pack members. It had been a disrespectful act and it was a shame that someone else had managed to force the life spirit out of the black man’s body before Haku had managed to reach him. So few of them understood. There was beauty in destruction, beauty in those who carried out the necessary deeds. Yet it was so rare for them to appreciate the certainty that they were not the only one on a quest larger than life. What this man’s path withheld, Haku knew not, but he knew the potential standing in front of him, disguised in blood and flesh and an absolutely hideous fur coat. Different, altered potential, but no less potential in its glory.

If dihn held the meaning of leader, then yes, this was correct. A court nod was given to the black, orange and blonde stranger. Silence was about to regain its grasp when the man spoke again, revealing a quest. Kin he said? ”A girl of D’Angelo blood lives within these lands,” the secui answered, uncertain if this was an answer that could help the other. The way the other spoke refused to show Haku certainty of the meaning behind the words spoken.

Larkspur D'Angelo · 12-31-2009, 06:49 PM

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Without a doubt, more then one devil had his claws in the world. Tak was the name by which Larkspur knew his own. There were others, too, whose names he could recall, but did not matter here. Haku, certainly, was not one for arcane words or the power behind them. He bore signs that carried power, but they were without purpose, as Larkspur’s own were. One ear flicked at the mention of a girl, and just as swiftly, his face shifted like a summer storm. Orange eyes turned sharp, vicious, and the mirth of ignorance was washed away.
Larkspur was uneducated, but he knew his purpose now. “Would y’allow me ta speak wit her?” he asked, deep voice now solemn. Though he did not understand the way of typical wolves, the Khalif knew that a dihn’s word was law.

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Haku Soul · 01-01-2010, 09:15 AM

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SSWM 326

Haku was a lonely wandered driven insane by a voice coming from within. Whether or not the demon was real was not a question the King of Dahlia could question. He did not see the demon’s power and dark intent as clearly as he thought. He knew that he had been offered freedom and immortality; he knew that he had been given a strangely beautiful purpose in life. Death lurked behind every living being on this earth and Haku’s task was to end their wandering so that death could catch up and feast on their souls. He revelled at his own insanity and had found impossible, blissful beauty when he had finally gotten a glimpse of his one and only master bathed in crimson. Kaena Lykoi had carefully avoided him lately, and the dark hearted creature ached to toss her through holocaust a second time. It was such a shame how ignorant she was, but none of them knew worthiness in the same manner that Haku Soul did. He was messiah and no one ever knew.

Larkspur’s eyes found life in a different manner as the Dahlian male’s words reached his pelted ears. The demon’s jaws snapped together and watched the change with interest. Had he been a foul beast of use then Haku would gladly sacrifice Addison D’Angelo in exchange for her services. Whatever the young woman would think of this did not matter, for Haku’s word would be law. Arrogance and confidence ran strong within the brown Dahlian’s body. He was unable to perceive the world as anything else than his for the taking. ”What is your business with the female?” the Rosen had to wonder, though he did not have any particular reason to deny the male a dialogue with the woman if she was about. Curiosity had to be satisfied and Haku would not follow sense or logic if he did not feel like it. A family reunion or something more?

Larkspur D'Angelo · 01-05-2010, 08:20 PM

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    For all of his ignorance (and it was much, in truth), Larkspur could read the man before him as easily as the men he had seen before. The Khalif were simple—they knew blood, lust, and the madness of devotion. All of these things existed here, and he knew this. Misery had tried to explain the ways of the world and told him, oh so many times, that the Khalif were not exactly wrong. Tak was indeed dark and terrible, and his great clawed hands reached wide over the world. All of the devils that had come from his hands sunk into the earth, and into the men that roamed them. Even if Haku was not black, as Larkspur was, a great devil lurked in his body. He bore no signs, and this made him twice as dangerous. Larkspur came with his flags on display, his holy words on his arms and the can tah around his neck radiating power.
    But there was no fear in Haku Soul, and this was what Larkspur respected. He might have been a monster (and by all accounts, he was), but monsters were not unfamiliar to the blackened wolf. Four years of torture, as serving his family as omega, ruin, as something less then dirt, had left his mind shattered. It was his body that had suffered less, stealing food, fighting in order to survive. Four years spent praying for a stranger to cross their midst, to be chosen in order for him to live, and by Tak it had happened through some miracle, he had survived for so long, then in the fourth year there had been no strangers. Only an empty pyre and his body to serve the greater good.
    Misery had saved him, and for that, he had given her his life. She had left him with only a vague task, and one he intended to follow until he fell dead or found her again. “It is my purpose to educate her,” he explained, finding the phrase alien. It was his aunt-mother that had told him this, when they found the rest of their family, to tell them the truth of the Khalif, of their heritage, and of the madness that they needed to embrace in order to survive. Black fur had to be cleansed. Larkspur was making himself holy. “As with the rest of my family. She will come to no harm—this I can promise you.” His eyes, focused with intensity, spoke no lies.

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Haku Soul · 01-06-2010, 04:34 PM

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SSWM 413

Haku had been chosen by a mistake. Ignorance had let his mother set free a devil inside her child’s body, and there it settled and grew along with its vessel. It had feasted off the child soul and made first introductions. Haku Soul was standing here now, unaware of how obvious his darkness was in the lit eyes of the oddly coated male. Haku could not distinguish the different shades of what Corvus Vendetta had spoken of as the darkness. He knew ambition and talent where it was to be found, but had found few that exploited and learned from their dark powers. The large brute before the Rosen seemed plain, but there was also a mission. Larkspur revealed his purpose and though it was not Haku’s business what this education consisted of he was of course intrigued and wanted to know. The D’Angelo females Haku knew of seemed nothing special though. They were the same wolfen garbage as everyone else. Once upon a time Haku had know a Meth with blood of D’Angelo and de le Poer – this if his memory served him true, and she had been beautiful. Insane and beautiful. Years had passed and he assumed she was dead.

He discarded the possibility of worth in the general D’Angelo blood, and that was where his interest ended. Addison was free to do whatever she wanted. Whether or not she was close enough to hear any summon was a different question that Haku could not answer. Although he cared little, he had noticed by her fleeting scent that her adventurous spirit was strong within her. She was a wanderer and he wondered when the day came that Addison would not return to Dahlia de Mai. Haku stepped back and to the side, as if unblocking an invisible door leading into Dahlia and the possible family member. ”Then be my guest, then..” Haku was not about to be more helpful than he felt like. This was Larkspur’s quest, not Haku’s, and the Rosen was an egocentric creature with time and effort for his own plots and games and little more. Blue eyes kept studying the ruined pelt. "Though.." He could see that the man was originally black and thought it a shame he was ruining the majestic fur by adding highlights. ”Why have you ruined your pelt with dye?” a last question would have to be answered before the loner could see his little cousin.

Larkspur D'Angelo · 01-06-2010, 04:53 PM

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The children of the Khalif had learned very early on that those people who were chosen belonged either to the light, or the dark. White fur was pure and holy, and black the opposite—sick and wicked, and the guidance of a much more wicked lord-god. Tak’s name was not known in these parts, and by all rights, did not belong here. Only his family was entitled to that knowledge, and they had lost their way. Education was necessary in order for them to grow, to survive, and to know that they were truly not part of this world. Larkspur had been given a task, and he was also charged and challenged to blend in here. Haku’s question, following that barriacades removal, only served to remind him that he was failing in this task.
Turning his head to eye the dyed fur (which was growing out much more quickly then he liked), Larkspur considered how to explain such holy devices to an outsider. “It is part of my task,” he offered, then turning his face back, found the darkness familiar in his companion’s eyes and explained further. “When Ah finish it, m'fur will turn white. Dis was an attempt ta further t'process.” Even now, though, he was aging. His muzzle was turning white, something he could not see yet.

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Haku Soul · 01-06-2010, 05:32 PM

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SSWM 450

Two sets of belief shattered together now. Haku followed no specific path other than that of his own personal demon. People had created religions and gods; created horrors with names that caused shivers to creep up fragile spines. Haku’s taint had no name and kept no track of its records. It was the ninth son unmentioned by human books, for its job had mainly been to pull certain strings and watch worlds succumb and turn into ash that suffocated the remaining survivors. It was old as time itself yet younger than what one would think. There were no rules and there was no ultimate truth. Still though, Haku Soul was blind. As he had found earthly pleasure in Kaena’s reluctant warmth he had seen, though he did not understand exactly what it had been. As the moment had lasted he had understood the world and understood every purpose of every living creature, but the lack of exposure to the true source dulled his mind and made his eyes blind once again. He did not understand this man’s world and what he believed in. He just knew what he thought of it. He thought of is as foolish.

”Black fur is sacred to some,” the secui darkly murmured, this of course loud enough for the strange Larkspur to hear. In his dreams Haku was black like the starless night ruled by invisible nightmares. His eyes were burning embers of red and blue and he was complete. To see a creature seek the supposedly ideal colour for light suddenly seemed to disgust him and he felt his lips draw back to reveal yellow fangs with their light touch of decay. Why did they all refuse to do what their demons told them to? Corvus had failed to understand that he and Haku had been kin. Not by blood, but the darkness within them held the same early beginnings as Lucifer was thrown down from heaven with his beautiful wings broken. They had broken his wings and refused him the throne that should belong to the one with strength enough to see through weakness and strength; to appreciate potential in every form. Anger whistled through the secui’s body, though it did not belong to Haku.

”You seek salvation? You want to become pure?” his voice was incredulous, for yet another one seemed to believe he was someone different. They never wanted to understand. Haku did not know the world that Larkspur D’Angelo came from. He only knew his own and he knew that being given a dark passenger was a blessing that few received. Black fur was a gift, especially if the same colour lurked within the heart.

Larkspur D'Angelo · 01-07-2010, 02:03 AM

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    No, there was no need for the names or the holy signs that Larkspur knew and obeyed. There was no need for him to damage himself as he had—ruin his fur and carve white signs into his arms, where they shown as fresh as the day Misery had branded him. She had not let him shy away from the pain, and instead warned him that to not face it head on would result in disaster. As with all things, he had believed her. He had believed her so ultimately that even when his flesh had cried out and burnt away, he had been silent. All of the pain he had felt in his life, these marks were perhaps some of the worst. Except he could no longer remember them. Pain was forgotten by the brain, and Larkspur did not remember any pain; he recognized it, and knew it had occurred, but now could not remember what it had felt like.

    This Haku Soul seemed offended that Larkspur had ruined his coat. Sacred. His ears rose to a crown atop his head, and his eyes sharpened considerably. This man was not of Tak, but he knew Tak’s color and sought to make it his own. Perhaps it was not simply his family he had been sent here to educate. Perhaps it was his role to spread Tak’s Will as he supposed it always had been intended.

    Around his throat, the can tah whispered.

    Larkspur heard, and obeyed.

    “It was t’path put b’fore me,” he explained, lifting his head just slightly. “There’s two roads, n’either I’m chosen for one, or fer another.” For Tak or for the White. Of the two, it was Tak’s will that was strongest, and the one that even his Aunt-Mother had never questioned. “A prophet gave me tha fur and tha marks I carry, but Misery ain’t bound by anything but the Line.” It was the only way to explain himself, and explain it without revealing his dark-God’s name, without revealing more then he intended. Except Larkspur found kinship in the blue-eyed devil, and now sought to understand him.

    “Y’can make yer fur black, y’know,” he said, advancing slowly, despite the bared teeth. “It’s eas’r then makin’ it light.” It took time, but it could be done. Just as it took time for his to turn white, and even this was not permanent. Within the month it would grow out, even though age would prove master in turning his fur to that other holy color: white.

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Haku Soul · 01-10-2010, 04:42 PM

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SSWM 508

It was unclear to Haku what the cause for that burning anger was. There was no such thing as two identical monsters. They bore on their religions, their beliefs and their complexes. Gabriel was a monster hidden behind a deep religious faith. Corvus had been devoured by his own ego. Haku represented insanity. He saw things that he was not supposed to see. He saw the departed souls return in their failed attempts to hunt him. No, he had swallowed them whole and they could only stare at him with eyeless sockets painted in red. They were damned and they were his forever until his immortal body crumbled and was finally eaten up by the decay. Larkspur spoke of paths and Haku followed that understanding. They all had their own paths that they were supposed to follow and that should be respected. What was upsetting was the attempt to gain the wintery coat that symbolized goodness and purity. That was wrong. It was wrong for a black man with potential black in his heart to strive for something like that. Haku still did not realize why he seemed to care so much about this, for other monsters never listened. Although they were all kin through darkness they shared few bonds and they walked their lonely roads in quiet solitude. That was how it worked.

He did not understand the oddly coated man’s split path, but this was because it was something he could not understand. The black man’s voice continued and the Dahlian male picked up a name that he remembered well from the past before salvation had reached him with its black fingertips. That line had carried darkness in its original form, but the impressions he once had had of the D’Angelo line had been lost as he had seen potential wither into nothing. Misery had been dark just like her lovely daughter. Haku still did not know that the girl’s fate had been sealed by all eating fire. He imagined her spread chaos somewhere in the world. Addison and Naniko held no potential in their hearts and he had actually doubted whether or not it was the same D’Angelo line. The earthen toned male’s focus returned as the male revealed that fur could be made black. This was true. Haku had never gone further than to let dark coal disguise the warm hued colour of his fur, and this had been only so that he could travel willingly through the lands and find victims to kill. There was no interest in attempting to change his colour because this was his one and only true pelt.

”It would be nothing but an illusion,” Haku replied with some distaste. ”It would be foolish,” he added, his shortened tail whipping through the dry air. It was much easier though. He did not imagine Larkspur would ever reach his goal of becoming white like a cold moon. It was such a shame how a pristine coat had been ruined for such an odd purpose.

Larkspur D'Angelo · 01-12-2010, 05:41 AM

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    Larkspur knew rage, and he knew hate. He had seen it every day for his entire life, when his parents and his kin had turned against him because of what he was. Tak’s chosen heir—Tak’s blackened messenger. Misery had promised to make him whole, but she had left him only with the vaguest of ideas and the singular stone entity that would be his power from this day forth. When the bird found its voice, when it rose from a whisper to a shout, Larkspur would know his way and know it well. Places of great power could make themselves known even in the wastelands of a place like this. A portal, a thinny, a door that was not a door; these were signs that Larkspur looked for and things he had learned to recognize. In time, he would know them fully. Four years had given him what he needed—four months alone, with only the can tah to keep his mind whole, would push him over that final ledge and into the realm of pure truth. He would know then what his destiny was. The white fur on his muzzle, and the way his fur had rejected the dye, was proof enough of that.
   Had Haku been able to warn Larkspur of the weakness of his family’s line, his education would have become much more aggressive. They needed to be taught and be judged. Those who were weak were not worthy of the families name, and he would grant them one chance before bringing down all ten thousand years of judgment on their unworthy heads. He knew the way to purity, and the way to make things right. Fire, above all things, could do this. Larkspur feared flame, as it had intended to claim his own life, but he did not fear it enough to abandon it completely. Like everything in House D’Angelo, the Jack o Lantern wolf with the white holy signs burned into his arms was a contradiction. They would survive atop a tower of cards because it was built on bones and blackened boughs. They would survive because it was the mad ones who always do, in that peculiar way that fate seems to honor.
   And indeed, had he been able to speak to this man, had he been able to read his mind as clearly as he could read his eyes, he would have told him this. He would have found a brother in another madness, in another legacy built out of the dead. Larkspur respected Haku not because he was the alpha, not because he had shown him violence and threatened his well being, but because the darkness inside of him was so familiar it could not be ignored. One day, when Haku Soul fell to his own madness (for this was the way of all things, from first generation to last), he would be pulled into the ini and Larkspur would speak to his spirit and those of all the past dead through the dream catcher. He would not understand all the signs they would show him, but he knew that they would come. They had come before, and would do so again.
   Fate was predictable, in so many ways. “Ay, but they’re be a truth in all illusion, eh? M’coat won’t change n’less it chooses to, n’there’s no way it’ll do that n’less m’path turns one way or another.” He had continued to move forward, and now stood next to the much larger Secui male. “D’you wish me ta go look fer her or would ya rather escort me?” His peculiar twang, though thick, had begun to waver. It would, over the next few weeks, fade nearly completely—carrying only the drawl of the mountain folk that had inbred their madness into each generation born over the Catskills. Larkspur was no different. His grace was a pathetic act in an attempt to hide what he truly was.

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Haku Soul · 01-21-2010, 05:44 AM

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Truth in all illusion. Was that right, then? What was he on top of Dahlia with his mock crown? He was the rising joker that had yet to form that well known grin that would speak of insanity and death. Haku had cradled his insanity and had watched it grow out of control and spread its jet black wings. Madness was a beautiful thing and it was meant to be embraced for what it was. Was the crown on top of the Dahlian man’s head true? For better and for worse he was Dahlia’s king, and it was true that he was a creature formed by delicious darkness that was intended for something greater than a life in service for lowly beings. His fur was that of warm chocolate and his eyes of a colour that would forever blaze with intense warmth of a rarely seen forget me not blue hue. His charming appearance had always served him well in the past, but scars were beginning to crawl into his features in an attempt to better reveal the ill being within the beautiful blue gaze and caramel coated body.

His mask was slowly being peeled off by constant wearing, and perhaps a transformation would come sooner than he believed. Nothing was predictable for the Dahlian man anymore. His vision of the future was blurred. ”So your path has not been decided yet?” the man now wondered, wishing the darkness in the trespasser’s pelt was the result of a bitch black inside. Haku was in dire need of true soldiers. The path of the antagonist was usually lonesome, and while he accepted this fact he did not close his eyes when he saw other creatures like himself. Darkness was different in every being, though it gave them all abilities to release havoc upon the world. Larkspur’s choice of dying his fur suggested that he sought absolution in the light instead of surrendering fully. ”I will escort you for now,” was the next thing the beast said as he wanted more from the black brute.

Paws weighted the snow down as they ventured into Dahlia’s lands. While the man was full of numerous questions and wonderings, he remained silent as always until he found anything worth bringing up. The creatures here created useless conversation to fill in the gaps of silence between other beings. Larkspur’s words had been well chosen enough to be worthy company for the man that usually sought company only in death and destruction. ”What is the path of D’Angelo?” he suddenly wondered and glanced over to the creature with the hideous fur. This madness was new to him and he asked despite not expecting a satisfactory answer. If the D’Angelo line had a higher purpose then it was a shame how the present family here had withered.

Larkspur D'Angelo · 01-21-2010, 06:04 PM

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In Character

Larkspur’s truth belonged to fever eyed prophets and a dying God. He saw madness in every face, and welcomed it. There was only the truth of the Khalif, and this was what he knew. Misery had tried to show him the world outside, but without her presence he was left to fall back on his teachings and his wolfish instincts. Deception was something he was learning slowly—something that he had not been taught, but was required to survive in places like this. Except, of course, when he stared into the face of madness and knew it as his kin. The scarred wolf, with those peculiar eyes, might not have looked mad to others, but Larkspur sensed it. He sensed it just as easily as he sensed a coming storm, or the shifting of the earth underneath him.

Haku seemed to be puzzled by his explanation, and Larkspur set his jaw, waiting for the questions that would come. He did not believe that it was of note; none knew their path, for the wind of ka was unpredictable, and he had no right to try and challenge it. What was would be. Larkspur could do no more to change the future then he could to make his fur white. Instead of answering, though, Larkspur only nodded shortly, and fell in to step with the alpha male. Having not been raised or trained to hunt (for truly, his family had expected him to whither and die within hours of his birth) he did not walk in line, step for step behind the wolf, but instead at his side, as if perhaps there was no difference between them.

In Larkspur’s world, there was not. His eyes turned hard, as if the Will-o-Wisp light in them suddenly struck against metal and sparked high and fast. “There ‘re two,” he said flatly, and felt the stone around his neck grow heavy, whisper, and warn him. While he might have considered Haku companion, and perhaps kin-folk with strange blood, he could not share everything that belonged to the Khalif. “One’s white, and one’s black. If yer black, then by our laws, yer evil.” You belong to Tak. That holy name would not cross his lips, not around Haku, not so soon. The mad faith that held him even now would not allow such a thing to pass. “I’m here to do what needs done,” he added, and smiled in a peculiar way. Even though he intended to find himself purified, the whispering can tah was reassuring, and told him there was a far greater force at work.

Haku Soul · 02-03-2010, 08:20 AM

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Some blood lines were rumored carrying madness and inner decay. Haku had always been alone on this path, though he had never truly questioned the nature of his darkness until this very moment. Larkspur came from another world. There were no black or white, no hidden signs that Haku could have followed. It had just always been and his family had always been unaware of the dark hole that evolved within the boy with the beautiful blue eyes. How his mother had found the truth he could not even start to guess. She was the only one that knew though. So few had noticed and now when the beast slowly revealed itself to the world it was too late. Cercelee had been foolish to let him roam about under the protection leaders automatically received by being on the top of a pack hierarchy. Haku had committed a disgustingly high number of sins and the world did not even know!

Larkspur spoke of laws and the chocolate coated male gritted his teeth visibly. This was unknown territory for him and the man’s limited imagination struggled hard to picture a community where the dark matter that festered in the heart of those worthy to be possessed was well known. There were rumors of de le Poer and Lykoi in ‘Souls, but that was it. What became of the black wolves in Larkspur’s homelands? ”And what becomes of the evil there?” the man questioned darkly; actually interested. Larkspur offered sweet fairytales, though he could not consider them anything more. He knew not whether or not his own sickness would or had infested the offspring he had brought into the world. The demon had been given to him by an ignorant mother; it had not been granted him by birth.

He knew there were things he could not yet see with these mortal eyes. It would come though.

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