(P) Tomorrow, Today, and Yesterday

Gotham Phoenix · 03-12-2011, 03:55 PM

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+651- Now with a pretty new table! Big Grin

How had it come to this?

Gotham had, out of pure habit, travelled far away from the borders of Crimson Dreams. His chested had ached the entire time he'd been moving, up until the very moment his paw landed outside of the territory. It signalled to him his sudden need to get away, to leave behind the stress and drama of his mother's pack in favour of some normalcy. That loner lifestyle had just about settled onto his shoulders during the time he'd been away, and jumping head-first back into the packlife scene had been a horrible mistake.

He needed time to adjust. He needed time to decide. He'd returned under the assumption he'd be comfortable there in the Mansion, beside his siblings and parents without any worry or fear. He'd been so very wrong to assume such a thing was possible. The traitor, Nuki, had made that very, very clear. And now, he was left with a bitter regret, eating away at him moment by moment.

That was why he'd left again. He didn't plan to be gone long, just a day or so to clear his head. Still, the temptation to run and never return, to leave his troubles behind him... it was strong. It was what probably got him so far away from home now, as the black lupus-formed boy gainted over the ridged rocks of The Trenches, headed full-steam for Blackmoore Castle. The old structure still had plenty of places to hide away and explore in. His mind was set to waste away the day doing care-free things like this, so why not?

When the castle came into sight for the first time ever, boy's breath was taken away. It was huge! Beautiful! With a delighted grin, boy started down the hill towards the towering stone building, amazed by the sight of it, and the idea of being able to freely explore without worries of being chased away. It was far bigger in person, and this would be the first time Gotham had ever bothered to come close enough to enjoy the truely amazingly qualities of such an ancient building.

As our black prince approached the main entrance, a feeling of eerie injustice creeped down his spine, making his fur stand on end. I heard it said that a Lord of some sort still haunts this place. Maybe that's him? Now thoroughly spooked, but incredibly excited, boy left his troubles at the door and slid inside, tail swaying behind him.

The hallways were beautiful! Lined with smooth stone and intricate sculptures, it was hard to think that this place was as old and primevil as it was. Gotham's paws carried him onwards through the halls until he reached a ballroom. The entire room was mostly empty, save for the old decorations set up dozens of years ago. His paws tapped against the floor with an echoed 'tak tak', sending up tiny amounts of dust in his wake and leaving clear pawprints behind.

As he reached the center of the room, boy smiled. He could imagine the dances that could've been held here. Dozens of Lords and Ladies, all paired up in elegant clothing, spinning and dancing the night away to a live court of talented musicians. The Scottish Lord from the legend would stand at the very far end, his beloved bride at his side, smiling and having fun. It would truely be a wonderful event. The image almost eliminated the dreary thought of the bride never making it to Canada. Only a Fantasy.

Still, Gotham stood there in the center of the ballroom, and for a moment the boy closed his eyes and lost himself to his imagination, sitting down and imagining the beautiful ball- nay, masquerade ball! He imagined them as Luperci, not truely sure what humans had looked like. It was good enough for him though, as the hummed along to an imaginary song.

Micah Sunrise Lykoi · 03-12-2011, 05:17 PM

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Thanks for starting!

So that was where his sisters had been hiding, was it? A land that smelled of blood and death, with the skulls of their wolven victims lining the borders on stakes like some sort of trophy collection. It was disgusting, even for the boy who rejected all his hippie parents and culture had tried to force upon him, and no amount of — oh, an acorn, how strange for it to be around this time of year! He stopped, mid-trot, began, stopped, began, his chocolate eyes forever on the small seed. He wanted to touch it — no, he didn't need to, it was just an acorn — but it's an acorn. It's out-of-season. A moment's hesitance, and then a shameless gallop onto the little thing, pouncing it like he would them when he was just a pup. Brilliant! Ah, yes, but it's still just an acorn. And so he moved on.

...What had he been thinking about? Oh. No amount of deep thinking or meditation would rouse a reason in him to understand why his earth-loving, skirt-twirling, pot-smoking trio of sisters would ever find reason to feel comfortable in such a dark place. Of course, he had no background to believe the land they stood on wasn't just another Juniper Peace, he supposed, but the hippies he knew well from his childhood would never submit to their typical orgies if a skinless skull was staring down at them. Or several, at that.

Micah knew he had nothing to gain from this place, despite the continent's somewhat crowded population as what he had witnessed elsewhere in his travels. So many packs, and so condensed and close together. How were they not at constant wars, fighting over dominion and land? Juniper Peace had been a transient pack, throughout his childhood to the point where he broke off from them somewhere in central Canada. He had witnessed warring packs, fighting for the most idiotic of reasons, and had been a piece of that war more than once when the peace-loving pack of Junipers meandered stupidly into claimed land, too high on pot or life or rainbows to know any better. More than once they'd had to run with their tails between their legs, barely escaping with their lives.

And so he tread carefully, intimidated by so many creatures living so condensed and close together. He feared every step would put him into the danger of trespassing; he traveled constantly in his four-legged form, red-tipped nose always at the ground, always ensuring there was no set scent he could step over. He could not help but worry. For some reason, he simply just could not stop worrying.

A grand, black castle fell into his view when the boy finally lifted his nose from the ground. After ensuring there were no claiming scents in its surrounding area, he proceeded with the utmost caution towards its door, but froze in the threshold. He found another scent, just a vague one, in the dusty air; ears flipped and tail tucked, he backed away onto the lawn again and sat, waiting, staring at the door. He sat there for some time, but nobody came out. Micah didn't want to trespass. He didn't want to get in trouble.

But eventually he wandered in still, every step the most silent he could manage, his thin and scraggly coyote frame creeping in the shadows, watching where he stepped. He did not want to get covered in dust, after all, so he stepped with a spring in his step, jumping at every creak and groan from the walls and floors. Chocolate eyes gazed at all he passed, and in he passed into what appeared a ballroom.

It was there he found what appeared to be the other visitor to the castle, and once again ears and tail tucked as Micah began to back off. However, it was at that moment the dust caught up in his nose, and in one graceful sneeze did he announce his presence. Caught, he ducked closer to the ground, ears still back, and spoke. "Hello," he said, brown eyes wide and attentive. "What are you doing?"

Gotham Phoenix · 03-12-2011, 06:00 PM

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OOC here!

Dancing royals of every sort went along with the music in the Phoenix boy's head... until someone very real sneezed, and the scene fell apart. It fell apart so brutally because Gotham had been surprised at the sound, showing in the way his body jerked, and his eyes snapped open. Those same blue eyes turned to look over at the coyote crouched nearby, beautiful shades like the evening sky dancing with the music that still hummed in his head, but no longer sounded aloud.

"Oh, hello." Faint Italian accent chimed out, a friendly tone used. "I was imagining what this place could've been like if the legend hadn't been true. Back in the past, y'know?" He smiled that feral wolf smile and tilted his head. "I'm guessing by the posture that you don't live here either. My name's Gotham."

Some company could be good, considering the young prince's home-related stress. The coyote boy before him wasn't a threat, and despite being pure (if only a touch diluted somewhere down the line) wolf, boy felt no illness towards the stranger. In fact, Gotham took a moment to muse over the thinner male's build and coat. Were all coyotes so thin? The Marino-born lad wasn't so sure, since he'd barely anything to compare with. It left him to wonder if this guy, if he were luperci blooded, was as thin and lanky in his optime or secui forms.

As Gotham lost himself to thought, he trained his ears to listen for a response, eyes wandering over the other's frame, taking in the flecks of silver on black and those chocolate-colored eyes. Yeah, the boy was having one of his closet moments again, but this time it was more related to his company's interesting build compared to his own rather than finding the coyote to be attractive in that way. That's all it was. Really.

Micah Sunrise Lykoi · 03-13-2011, 01:14 PM

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The fellow explorer was clearly also an intruder to the castle; as Micah focused, he picked up the scent of a pack not too terribly far away, but one whose scent he recognized as almost friendlier than many others he'd passed by. The black male, though a similar color to Micah himself, however nearly doubled him in size and girth, clearly a much healthier black-furred individual than the measly coyote. He considered again how terrible he was at hunting and fending for himself, spending a moment daydreaming at looking that healthy thanks to the pack lifestyle, but he shook off the thoughts and offered the stranger a feeble smile.

"I'm Micah," he replied, straightening up as Gotham's gentle tone eased him out of his anxiety. "I don't really live anywhere, and I'm not from around here either."

The Lykoi crept a little further into the ballroom, eyes wide as they drank in everything that fell into his gaze. It was dusty at best, but the ballroom and castle itself were surely beautiful in their time. Humans were such strange creatures, but they had made for some interesting architecture — and what wasn't interesting, he spray painted graffiti on. So it goes.

Moving a little closer to Gotham, the coyote sat himself down, still gazing from place to place. "What's the legend?"

Gotham Phoenix · 03-13-2011, 05:24 PM

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OOC here!

Gotham smiled as the smaller canine came to sit nearby, tail sweeping across the dusty floor. "E 'un piacere conoscerti, Micah." The boy's Italian was amzingly clear despite his never having been to Italy before. A beautiful harmony of Canadian and Italian, Gotham was by far a poster child for a Dreaming Prince.

"So you've never heard the legend of this place? It's a rather sad tale. If you don't mind a moment, I'll tell it best I can." Gotham smiled to the Coyote. He'd never been one to tell stories before, but somehow it felt... natural, as the words came off his tongue in what could've been a great tale-spinner's tone.

"The story behind this castle is one of tragedy, really. A Scottish lord sailed here generations ago, back before luperci were ever around..." The Phoenix lad's eyes shone with admiration as he continued his story. "...the Scottish Lord built this castle from the black stones from his homeland, and intended it to be a gift to his future bride. It took a long time to build, but when it was done, he sent for her to be with him here in Canada." He glanced over at Micah, smiling. "I don't think Canada was a country at the time, so I guess it didn't have much of a name yet."

He mused over this a moment, then shrugged and continued. "The bride was to reach this place by boat, just as the Lord had. Sadly, tragedy struck, and that boat is said to have never touched American shore." He paused, as if giving the fallen lady a moment of silence. When he spoke again, his voice was ominous, matching the tale perfectly.

"The Lord continued waiting though. It's said that he still waits here inside the castle walls for his bride to arrive and receive her magnificant gift. She'll never come, though. If the Lord is here, than he'll still be here for the rest of eternity, wandering the corridors, wondering what has become of his late lady." A wry smirk made it onto the young wolf's face then, and he turned his attention completely to Micah, eyes sparking with a sly mischief. "I heard once that if you stay the night in the Castle's main chambers, you'll be able to see the ghost of the Scottish Lord wandering around the room. No one's ever dared to do it though. If they have..."

He looked away, purely for effect. "Then they never made it out alive." He left it at that, looking over at Micah out of the corner of his eye, waiting patiently for the coyote's reaction. Yes, telling stories, especially ghost stories, was by far an appealing thing to pass the time with.

Micah Sunrise Lykoi · 03-23-2011, 08:54 PM

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@_@ So... many... threads...

Ears perked at the foreign language — surely his sisters would have gotten terribly excited and distracted by it, but not he, no, he was not like them, no, but my it was lovely-sounding to his ears — but before Micah could ask what those words meant, the dark-furred stranger delved into a fairytale. His attention held, Micah opened his chocolate eyes wide at Gotham's words, soaking them in one by one, all the while the Italian still whispering in the back of his mind.

It was a ghost story, Micah realized, only a few lines in; the Lykoi could easily predict its outcome, and yet at its end the male realized his fur stood on end and his tail had tucked away. It was a love story, wasn't it? How could something meant to be so beautiful, turn out to be so terrifying?

And on that note, how could a grand castle built as a gift of love, age into something so eerie? At the mention of wandering ghosts, Micah sunk into his shoulders; his eyes darted from side to side and he backed up against the wall. Much about ghosts frightened him — not for just the story, but for the fact that they had indeed haunted even he. His hatred for his father was not founded only on his sister's murder — it was founded on the fact that Storm Lily was always with him, one way or another. She showed herself at times, whispering horrors all of Juniper Peace would wail in fear of. It terrified him; she was not a humble guardian or a protective older sister, she was a ghoul. She was a reminder, a terror.

"Re-re-really?" he stammered, then caught himself and puffed up his chest. A clearing of the throat. "Ghosts aren't so bad," Micah determined. "We should do it."

Gotham Phoenix · 04-03-2011, 05:48 AM

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New table. :3 Sorry for the wait.

Gotham Phoenix

Hook, line and sinker. Gotham was loving every little reaction he was getting out of the coyote, and in the end, when the little guy decided to take on the challange, Gotham grinned. "Think so?" He laughed softly, almost hotly, and stood, tail sweeping up some dust. "Sembra divertente." The Phoenix lad trodded forward, as if leading the way out of the ballroom to start on a hunt for the master's chambers.

He glanced back, wry smile in place, somehow still the charmer he'd been telling the story. "Think those limber legs of yours can keep up, il mio amico strano?" He gave a soft laugh, then sped off in a quick-paced trot, his claws tapping against the floor as he went, sending echoes of the sound bouncing off the walls around him.

He'd never leave the coyote behind, though. If Gotham found that Micah had lagged behind, or if he left the guy behind in any way, he'd stop, backtrack and loop around with a playful tease or friendly reminder of the story. Anyone else could say Gotham was being a bit of a bully, but really, he was just setting a good atmosphere for the night ahead; keeping Micah on his toes would prove to be an interesting challange at best.

Micah Sunrise Lykoi · 04-24-2011, 04:46 PM

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No, I'M sorry for the delay! Tongue

The Phoenix boy eagerly turned and began to lead the way; as if absorbing his confidence, Micah perked his ears and raised his tail like a waving flag, gingerly trotting after his newfound companion. Other than his sisters, he knew no one in the area, and was usually much too nervous to go about introducing himself to complete strangers — so any progression in making himself known or comfortable was a great step in the right direction for the salt-and-peppered boy.

As he considered this, Gotham called out once more and took off in a run across the house, kicking up dust and grime into the coyote's brown eyes; Micah wiggled his nose irritably before finally sneezing. With a furrow of the brows and a determined smirk, the Lykoi boy scratched his claws against the woodwork and sped after the black Phoenix. Of course, he was still only Micah — there was no "surprising" speed in his run, no "interesting" maneuvers around the furniture, no "skill" displayed in his chase. He could hold himself in a run, but presented no above-average abilities that caught him up to Gotham. Instead, he kept up with a maintained distance, but was unable to move any faster.

His smile waned rather quickly, disappointed and embarrassed, and he soon slowed down to walk once more. The confidence displayed before seeped from him, ears and tail hanging and humiliation in his chocolate eyes. Whenever Gotham returned to him, the Lykoi boy kept his eyes on the floor and sulked. "I'm not a very good runner," he mumbled, barely audible, trying to hide his panting breaths. I'm not a very good anything.

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