every artist is a cannibal every poet is a thief

POSTED: Tue Oct 30, 2007 1:05 am

PROZACS28th okay?

PROZACSThe wolf's paws carried him heavily through the territory at a steady jog, head low, tail fanning lazily behind him. Lately the two-legged form had been the norm but now he wanted speed and agility, two things that escaped him to some extent when he needed those opposable thumbs. This was nice, sort of a return to nature, a return to his roots, his ancestry. They had, after all, been the wild ones so many years ago, howling to the moon and hunting the caribou and the rabbits winter and summer alike. Tsunami was half-running for a reason, but what reason that was he was unsure. Running from the thoughts that trailed him like a hungry predator. No reason to distract himself right now. Right now, he was still readying himself. Rome wasn't built in a day and all that. Not that he'd ever been there to see it.
PROZACSThe mountain loomed like a living monolith beside him. It demanded attention and respect and the gray wolf gave both unintentionally with his semi-submissive pose and single watchful eye. Of course, he wasn't going to go through Inferni territory, not after learning of the horrors they'd committed against Aremys. As if losing an eye and fucking their once-leader weren't enough reasons to keep his distance. Ha. Who was in charge there now anyway? He had no reason to think it wasn't Kaena. My, how backed-up on the times the ghost-watcher was.
PROZACSAnd then, there it was: the ocean. Despite nearly being swallowed by its hungry waves, Tsunami still found it beautiful. It slowly spread out behind the trees, and he could see the sand, yellow-white in the mid-afternoon sun. Nice day, it was, nice to be far away from civilization, from the lands claimed by packs and the lands that, once upon a time, had been. Reaching the sand, the gray wolf tilted his head upwards, breathing in the air and the saltwater smell that had clung to his fur -- no, his very skin -- for so long after being washed away by Mother Nature. He was alone; there were no scents that were recent enough to worry about. Head heavy with thought, he plodded through the sand, leaving large footprints in his wake, and settled to sit mid-way down the beach. Perhaps he would start a fire and camp here tonight. But he had hours to think that over before the sun set. It was kind of unfortunate; when you least wanted to think about life, all you had was time to do exactly that.

POSTED: Tue Oct 30, 2007 8:08 am

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29th would be better, but it doesn't matter much.

It was the most logical thing to do, really. Gabriel and Faolin were generally busy and he couldn't really spend time with them anyway without risking a lecture and the only thing worst than a lecture was spending time with Andre. He still had no idea where Rachias had run off to and could only hope that she hadn't disappeared like their mother and Eris because who else did he really have for company at home? Sometimes solitude was nice; in fact, he was sure he didn't mind it most of the time, but loneliness crept up on him when he didn't expect it and he just needed something to keep himself occupied with. Home was already too familiar; the corners had been pawed at and he had buried bird bones all over the place. Time for something new.

Granted, the stretch of beach that extended beyond his family's reach was not so new, but there was still more left unexplored there than at home. And he had found footsteps. Fresh and funny-smelling and kind of familiar in a way he wasn't able to pinpoint. Two of the three wolves he'd met had been from Storm and this one kind of smelt the same, but not as strongly - maybe he was new? Like Castor had been to Clouded Tears? None of the previous encounters had given him any reason to doubt or fear wolves and he was still close enough to Inferni that he felt secure anyway. So he followed the stranger wolf's trail until he saw the grey shadow on the horizon.

The grey coyote child sort of crept around in a wide circle after the other came into view half because he wanted to practice being quiet and half because he was curious as to what the wolf was doing. But he was just sitting silently and so Arkham went closer. Hey, he said from several feet away, 'Chu doin'?

POSTED: Tue Oct 30, 2007 3:14 pm

PROZACSthe 29th is fine too. :]

PROZACSTsunami wasn't naive. Perhaps one day in the past he had been, but no longer. That, like so many other things, had come to pass. He knew all along that coming back here was, essentially, facing his demons again -- maybe, in hindsight, that was why he kept doing it. Retracing his steps to dive headfirst into the fire again, just to see if he could take it. It burnt him until he was naked and thrashing -- but to succeed, to survive it, it was a drug like no other. Success wasn't something he knew very well, but trying was. Trying was something he'd never be able to stop doing, because it was akin to breathing, and somewhere in the mess in his head there was strength. A fountain of it -- where the fuck did it come from? Man, he didn't know, he felt like he'd never had.
PROZACSSo he wasn't naive. All that meant was that what he really was, was a complete and utter fucking sadist. It was good to be here, though, quiet and alone, like he really had nothing to worry about, no ex-lovers who had killed his children... the ones he'd never known because he was a bad father, always had been, probably always would be. Just like his own dear old daddy. This was almost painful, but it was something he had asked for, the way the structure he had set up in his head while away was falling apart. Or maybe he had never set anything up. Maybe being away from his problems had just let him forget for a while. Out of sight, out of mind, and all that jazz. Maybe he was the issue here. Hadn't it always been that way?
PROZACSIt felt like he was trying to push a car from the mud on his own, pulling his mind away from his thoughts. Someone was there, but the strong wolven instincts he'd inherited from his ancestors didn't scream of danger or blood. This meant he was relatively safe, before he even looked, and when he did, all he saw was a face to match the scent his nose was drinking in: a coyote puppy, small and grayish, with red eyes. Red eyes. He spoke, and Tsunami smiled. He had always liked puppies. No matter if he'd never been able to admit it. No matter whose they were. Not that he knew this one, of course. my, my. Hello, he one-eyed wolf offered the child, vaguely wishing he'd brought his eyepatch with him. Hell, whatever, kids these days weren't afraid of nothin'. I'm just sitting, thinking. Admiring the ocean. What're you doing?

POSTED: Wed Oct 31, 2007 6:12 am

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He found himself staring even though it shouldn't have been an unfamiliar sight, but maybe that was exactly why he was staring in the first place. Newly reddened eyes turned briefly towards the ocean at the other's response. Ah like the ocean too, he said, Buh I dun like t'get wet much. N'm'dumb sister almost got carried 'way once. Though he really didn't think Rachias was dumb and still kind of thought it was partially his fault she had almost drown or whatever, but they were both fine and he liked to think he could take things in stride, even if it had been the first really scary thing that had ever happened to him.

Ah d'no, he said of himself, suddenly rather sad that he had nothing better to say than that. He wanted to say more; he liked talking and he missed having someone to talk to, even if it had only been a few days. Arkham looked up again and stared at the stranger's face. My mum only had one eye too, he said, Buh she's gone now. It still confused him as to why; Gabriel never did explain. It wasn't like she was dead, right? Where did she go? Did he even really miss her?

POSTED: Sat Nov 03, 2007 4:35 am

cradle me in your crooked heart
The child watched him. Tsunami returned the open stare with a kind and calm expression, like floating underneath the roaring waves and the angry sky, like drifting off when he had almost drowned. There was something clawing at the back of his mind, inside his skull, the skull that had somehow endured a million attacks from within and many from without, as well. It was like a raccoon gnawing on cable wires, like an itch on the bottom of your foot that you couldn't scratch because you were in an office meeting and you couldn't take off your shoes. somethin' familiar about him, hmm, sunshine? The story was familiar. Things he could relate to. Tsunami had also once had a dumb sister, but Apollyon was now nothing but another page, and a brief one in that, in that dusty history book of life. And he had also been swept away in the ocean's grasp, hovering serenely so far underwater as if on a cloud.
So his mother was gone. So was Tsunami's -- both of them. And his dear old dad, who had torn up the one-eyed wolf's chest and stomach when he should have died, but Tsunami didn't care about him. He was dead now, anyway. Endymion had said so. The story ended there. He felt bad for the little kid. Reminded him a bit of Bane. And the eyes, those red eyes. look a little closer, baby. Yeah, just like Bane had been when he was a child. She's gone, is she? Tsunami cared. Really. No matter what the voice in his head insinuated in private. The gray wolf wanted to save the world, or change it, or ... do something good to it, anyway. All children should have mothers. All children should never be left behind. And this one seemed lonely and talkative because of it. Despite the disorganised thoughts, the burly gray wolf looked peaceful outwardly. Caring. What about your father? He spoke with a sensitive undertone; this might have been a touchy subject for the child, for all he knew, and he didn't want to scare the kid off. It had been a while since he'd been around a puppy.

POSTED: Sat Nov 03, 2007 5:00 am

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Arkham decided that wolves really couldn't be all that bad if all of them were like the ones he'd met. They had all been kind enough, understanding, and willing to put up with the random kid that needed company sometimes. Even the ones that had seemed somewhat hesitant at first still hadn't just turned away at the sight of him. Gabriel probably had his own reasons for being suspicious of them, but the child had not yet met the prejudices of the world first hand and was more than willing to trust the kindness of a stranger, whether wolf, coyote, or something else entirely. Hybrid or demonspawn.

Yeah, he said simply, nodding. Gabriel -- he's muh oldest brudder -- said she's gone, so ah guess she's gone. And his father? Muh dad lives with wolves, he explained earnestly, He visits sometimes, buh I dun see him much anyway. He furrowed his brows and kept staring at the ocean, Rachias thinks h'wunt c'back now th'mum's gone. I d'no. I d'no any'thin' 'bout 'im anyways. And sometimes he thought that a curious thing, but no one else in his family had fathers that were around anyway so how was he supposed to know that wasn't the norm? Or that it was the norm, but a very unfortuante one? It was theraputic telling the grey wolf about himself for some reason. Some things he didn't really realize for himself until he said them outloud and young as he was, the red-eyed pup wasn't one for imaginary friends to spill his heart out to. He looked back to the stranger. M'name's Arkham Lah-koy, he introduced politely, Wassyur name?

POSTED: Sat Nov 03, 2007 9:19 am

cradle me in your crooked heart
Just another broken family. Dime a dozen these days. The state of the world, of this part of the world -- it made the gray wolf wonder sometimes why he kept coming back. He had answered that question so many times in his head that it felt like a broken record now. He came back because he belonged, and he had never really belonged anywhere. Sometimes he didn't even belong within the confines of his own mind. It was possible the kid's mother was dead. Tsunami had always known the truth. Rain had always been up-front about it. She had been a good woman.
Besides his typical concern for the whole of wolfkind -- especially the defenseless, the adorable, the puppies -- there was probably another reason altogether why Tsunami had asked of Arkham's father. The answer already lurked in the back of his mind. Here, sitting before him, was a hybrid puppy with red eyes that the gray wolf felt he'd looked into so many times in the past. He wasn't facing it because he didn't want to believe it. Everything the kid said about his father just further cemented the fact. Holy fuck. aren't you just a fucking genius, sunshine? Mischa was laughing. Tsunami smiled. Still outwardly calm. Vaguely, somewhere, he wondered why this coyote-raised child didn't hate the wolves. Nirupama Tsunami was very much a wolf, body and mind and culture, and a large one at that. probably 'cause his daddy's in clouded tears, baby boy. Laughter.
Arkham Lykoi. He knew that surname. Really, this kid was pretty cute.
I'm Nirupama Tsunami. It's nice to meet you, Arkham Lykoi. If you don't mind me asking a personal question, do you know if your dad's from Clouded Tears? He wanted to listen. Half for himself, half for the hybrid-child, who seemed to have no family left but siblings, and the one eyed-wolf knew well how that felt.

POSTED: Sat Nov 03, 2007 9:47 am

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Maybe it was because the instructions of hatred had weakened as Kaena had aged or maybe it was just because he had always been doubtful of everything until he'd seen it for himself and what he'd seen left him feeling too secure, perhaps, and undeterred. One of his ears perked at the name of the pack and he reached back into his short memory to pull out the corresponding memory. The furrow in his brows deepened as he thought. I think so, he answered decidedly. Castor had been from Clouded Tears and Castor had had a similar scent to the one that had sometimes lingered at the den entrance. The more he thought about it, the more certain he was.

Yeah, he settled and cocked his head curiously at the much larger grey canine. D'y'know 'im maybe? he wondered, sounding more hopeful than he thought he would. Finding their father was his sister's dream, but that didn't mean he didn't want to know also. The other parental figure was a ghost in the night, dropping food at their doorstep of wisking his mother away for an evening. He never stayed or spoke to them and he wasn't sure he'd recognize him even if he saw him. Ah dun even know his name, he added. And he had more questions because one thought lead very quickly to another and there were so many things he didn't know. Where're you from?

POSTED: Sat Nov 03, 2007 11:32 am

cradle me in your crooked heart
boy, look at what you missed out on. The sun was smiling on Mischa but not on Tsunami. He was stuck in a perpetual rainstorm that perhaps would never go away. For some reason, he wasn't surprised. The day he had learned that Laruku was a murderer, he hadn't been surprised -- his love (unspoken, because fear was the greatest restraint of all) had never been able to save the red-eyed hybrid. His love had never been able to sort out the mess in the other male's head. Tsunami had never been able to save him, or really even help him. He had made many mistakes, sure, but he had tried, he had thrown his heart into the fire with all the faith of a believer on their deathbed, waiting for the gates of Heaven to open for them. To no avail. He hadn't been surprised then and so he wasn't now. The remorse of a lifetime lived wrong was perhaps what he was reflecting on as he looked away from his ex-lover's son and at the ocean and the faraway sky instead. Laruku had played the biggest role in his life in the past few years. For a while, Laruku had been his life. He knew he needed to get over it -- no, he knew what he needed to do first. Then move on. One way or another.
you're gonna kill his daddy. Oh what a tangled web we weave. sounds mighty familiar, sunshine. you know... and she went on, and she always would, you could kill the boychild now and get your revenge...
The boy's hopeful question brought the smile back to the one-eyed wolf's face, and he looked back at the puppy, shifting in the sand to make himself a little more comfortable. How very naive; no child ever thought their parents were bad, exactly, because few understood the definition of bad, or of evil. But Laruku was a murderer, and his was the body that had digested Tsunami's son. He decided in that split second that the truth wasn't the best route to take right now. At least not the whole truth, anyway. There was too much under the bridge to separate the necessary details from the damaging ones, and perhaps this child was best separated from his father for now, as much as the realisation depressed the yellow-eyed male. Oh, I'm sure we've met. I just heard of a male from Clouded Tears having a litter with an Inferni female, so I figured you must be theirs. Maybe one day he'd offer his whole story. Children needed time to be children. For now, he'd do what he could, offer his friendship if the boy wanted it. He seemed lonely. Probably didn't have many friends.
But as for me, the ghostwatcher went on, hoping to change the subject, I was born in Storm about three years ago. I've come and gone a lot since then. You know, I've got a son who's only about five or six months older than you, named Bane. He's gone also, but I know he'll be okay. liar. Winters were long and harsh, and if Bane didn't find someplace to spend the next few months, he might freeze to death or die of starvation. Tsunami had never been able to talk any sense into the child. He's a good fisher. Learned it from his dad. D'you know how to fish?

POSTED: Sat Nov 03, 2007 8:28 pm

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He might have remembered Gabriel telling him that his father was dangerous if he tried, but even if he did, no one had ever explained exactly why and he was a skeptic for all new information that couldn't be shown. Some things didn't have answers, he knew, but most things did, and this was certainly one of them. If someone was to be deemed dangerous, there had to be a reason. An easy conclusion would be that his father had done something so horrible that the adults would not yet deem it appropriate for him to know, but there was also Rachias's undying certainty of the goodness of their sire and her enthusiasum was hard to throw off, even if he knew now that it had been wrong before.

And what if his father really was a bad person? It would be a numbing fact, but he didn't really know him, right? It was hard to him to think that he would miss someone he had never known or feel bad for being the child of a parent who had commited horrible crimes; they were too abstract of concepts and he wouldn't be able to fathom them until he finally did find out for himself. D'y'know his name? The grey wolf's simple words were a strange comfort even though Arkham thought it strange that anyone should refer to his mother as simply "an Inferni female." She was the queen, or had been, but he figured that that Tsunami just didn't know any better.

Large grey ears perked again at the mention of Storm, Storm? D'y'know a lady named Phasmar? A son, also gone. He disliked how it was such a vague word. He hardly knew what it meant, no matter what context it was used in. Why'd he leave? Where'd he go? And fish? No. I d'no how t'fish. Zit hard?

POSTED: Sun Nov 04, 2007 6:35 am

cradle me in your crooked heart
Tsunami was fairly ignorant to the inner workings of Inferni and he planned to be for as long as possible. Though he couldn't hold anything against individual members simply for belonging to the clan, he couldn't forget the horrors they'd committed in the past. He had never had any reason to believe Phasma was a liar, and the grapevine was constantly whispering -- as it had in the past, it still was now. He knew of this kid's mother (if, indeed, it was Kaena) and figured that, given the things he'd heard, it was probably better this way. How your opinions changed with age.
His name? Sure, he knew Arkham's father's name. Laruku Tears. And I have another son who's gone, too, but your daddy killed that one. And then he ate him. Sorry, was the gray wolf's reply. Of course, there are never any monsters under the bed. I can't help you. His voice was sympathetic but firm. He had nothing else to say on the subject for now. Anyway, the child wasn't his responsibility, and whomever was raising him now -- Gabriel? -- would decide when he learnt more of his father.
The mention of the dark angel's name was a bright spot in the conversation. Even to a child, Tsunami's smile would have given away the obvious. Phasma is a very good friend of mine. She's my son's mother, actually. Ironic how Arkham knew of her. Why not? She was worth knowing. Bane -- that's my son's name -- he was the adventurous sort. I don't know where he went. He wanted to find himself, he wanted to see the world. So he left. probably also wanted to get away from you. Tsunami knew the child probably figured this was a very vague way to describe a vague situation, but life was never as clear as you wanted it to be. Fishing's a little hard at first, but it's easy to pick up. There was a drought here a year or two back, and I couldn't find any prey animals to hunt, so I fished a lot. You just gotta be quick. But I guess if you don't like getting wet, you probably wouldn't like it too much. Tsunami himself hadn't fished in a while. The ocean, lately, had pretty much been one of his least favourite things. He'd get over it, and hopefully it would be easier than the other things he was working on.

POSTED: Mon Nov 05, 2007 5:19 am

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There was a lot of history he didn't know and more still that he might never know. His mother had been old and she had been through and done a lot. The clan she had helped found had been dragged through time in a similar fashion, with blood and tears. It was the same for pretty much everyone else. There would always be a past because time never stopped, but they were still individuals weren't they? Arkham didn't know about any of it so he couldn't think to imitate it. Maybe madness ran in his blood, but he didn't know that either. Did it matter? Probably not, but while the cruelty and madness seemed to already run thick in his brother, he was yet an untainted child as far as anyone else could tell.

He was disappointed that he could not be provided with a name, but he couldn't hold it against the grey wolf. If he didn't know then he didn't know, right? But he smiled too when the other did; it would appear that there was a mutual fondness for the black lady and a friend in common was always a good thing, right? Arkham cocked his head, If she's yer son's mum, doesn't that make her yer mate? It was silly that he had that nuclear family equation in his head; after all, was his own father his mother's mate? He didn't even know. Did they have to live together to be? Were there other requirements? It just seemed like such a comfortable term and so appropriate. If only he knew.

How d'y'find y'self? It seemed like a strange thing to set off and do. And back to that fishing thing. No, he didn't like getting wet, but he knew he would need to start learning to hunt for himself soon. He wanted independence just as much as any other kid, but he had known that he had to grow into it. Was he there yet? Was it time to learn yet? He didn't know. The ocean's too big, he said, R'there other places to fish? He had yet to stumble over a river in his short life.

POSTED: Wed Nov 14, 2007 10:06 am

cradle me in your crooked heart
Mother and father, kids, a house with a white picket fence -- the equation seemed so deeply engrained even in this fucked-up society that you could give a kid a murderous whore for a mother and an estranged child-eating cannibal for a father and he'd still believe in marriage. The implied innocence of it made Tsunami want to laugh, and not in a condescending way. Phasma was his friend, probably his best friend. He'd just fucked her once while wallowing in the void of an overwhelming bout of self-pity following the ruin of a mutually abusive and wholly and thoroughly screwed up relationship. If you could call it that. Mate? No, he replied easily, with a slightly wistful smile he didn't notice he was wearing. Not yet. The words spurred a sort of how'd-that-happen?! reaction from various parts of his brain. He had said them before he could think of what he was saying, and he moved on before he could really study the thought process behind it. Phasma was too good for him either way. It's usually much more complicated than that, unfortunately. Move on, he told himself.
Finding yourself is a learning process. It's about getting to know yourself, discovering why you are who you are, finding independence and standing on your feet without anyone's help. Again, vague as all hell. The scarred wolf remembered the days when the world was black and white, literally and figuratively. Sometimes he missed it, most of the time he didn't. It's different for everyone, and everyone goes through it eventually in their own way. Tsunami had spent most of his life finding himself. Lately he had begun to learn who he was. Bane, much like his father, was a wild child who had to find out everything on his own. Like his father, he wanted to change the world. Unlike his father, he was optimistic. He'd come back after conquering some faraway country. Either that, or he'd die in a ditch with a heroin needle sticking out of his arm. Lots of other places to fish. Have you ever seen the Yawrah River? It's to the west, near the wolf packs. Good fishing this time of year. The kid was kinda young -- it'd make sense if he'd never been away from the beach. It was, after all, a big, bad world out there.

POSTED: Thu Nov 15, 2007 2:56 am

Moreso than the rest of his litter, Arkham seemed to be going about the world in his own way. His brother fell into the footsteps of hatred and madness and his sister was chasing after the ghost of their father. He didn't really understand either of their obsessions, though the latter made slightly more sense than the former. He liked to watch clouds fly across the sky and number each star when they came out at night. The coyote offered the grey wolf a lopsided grin as if to encourage an amendment from "not yet" to "soon." Things were complicated, apparently, but complications could be fixed -- most things could be fixed, right? He was still stuck in a world where most things had solutions, even if his mother was gone.

He seemed to recall Castor saying similar things. Discovery, surviving, and that sort of thing. It sounded somewhat appealing, actually, and he thought that maybe he would set off to "find himself" when he was older -- it was inevitable anyway, right? Independence was something everyone strove for; he knew he would get there eventually and he wouldn't have to eat everyone else to do it like Andre claimed. And he got kind of excited thinking about it; he didn't know who he wanted to be, but he could hope that he liked whoever he ended up as.

No, he said of the Yawrah, I 'aven't gone too far th' way yet, buh I think m'sister has th' look for dad, so mebbe I'll go visit soon too. The grey pup scratched an itch behind his ear with his foot. 'Zit hard t'find yer'self? 'Zit fun?

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