on stranger tides

POSTED: Sat Sep 17, 2011 3:25 am

Just days since his acceptance into Cercatori d'Arte and Loviere was already a good distance away from the territory. It had overwhelmed him - the sheer magnitude of changing from a life of solitude to one where fellow Luperci were all around. The muscle of his Secui form coiled and released as he trotted forward. The young man knew not where he was, or where he was going. Just that he must go somewhere, to take a breather from all that had happened to him in such a short time period. He had left Octavian behind to watch his belongings. Though the members of the pack he had met so far seemed trustworthy enough, Loviere placed high value on what few things he had. On this journey he carried a simple pouch and in it, a small stone knife. He rarely used it. Only in his Optime form could he handle such a weapon. And in that form, he was at his weakest - crippled, to say the least.

He carried the twisted leg gently, allowing his other limbs to bare the majority of his weight. In the two years of his life, he had not yet mastered the art of three-legged travel and one small misstep might send him tumbling down. At the moment he did not fear meeting another wolf. There was little reason anyone might have to approach him, wasn't there? He was, after all, a lamed explorer with little for others to steal.

The scent of Luperci wafted through his nostrils and he flared them, breathing in the pungent smell that declared a nearby pack. He slowed his pace, carefully picking his way through the territory. He dared not go much further into this strange packland, but something had caught his eye. Skulls. He could see them now. Loviere crouched to eye the sun-bleached bone. He pawed at it curiously, wondering what such a thing could be doing there. Soft golden eyes scanned the surroundings and he saw numerous other such skulls. Feeling as though he had stumbled upon some strange site of macabre ritual, Loviere stepped backward, pawing the skull closer to him. The young carpenter had never seen an intact skull before, and he found himself wondering to what kind of creature it belonged.

He swatted it playfully, intrigued by his unique discovery. These skulls had once been living, sentient creatures. And now, what was this purpose they served? An adventure awaits, he thought. With childlike glee, he hopped to the next skull, prodding it lightly. It must have been an older specimen, for it split when he touched it. Loviere gasped, glancing around to make sure no one had seen him. He found himself walking down the line of skulls, wondering what strange purpose they served.

Words | 400+ ooc:// Cactus be invadin' Inferni. And eryeah... Lovi is kinda dumb.

POSTED: Fri Sep 30, 2011 3:37 am

The savage in man is never
quite eradicated

Sorry for the delay, work = my life. I should be faster during/after this weekend. Word Count » --

Paranoia had fueled Ezekiel for the past several weeks. His body ran on it, his mind raced; he imagined every shadow an enemy, every glimpse of moonlight the stag, and he grew to know hate as he had not known it in the wild. Society corrupted. People corrupted. He would have been better off if he had never left the forest and become a feral thing. Even the tribe to the north knew of war, and of politics and conflict. They knew of faith too, in its own way, and like his God they recognized the sacred value of blood. This was why he used red for his arrows, his sign, even the color of his horse. Blood, red, it was sacred.

So in a way, the painted skulls his sister produced were holy relics to be respected. Ezekiel had never seen them abused, so when he came across the massive wolf “playing” with them as a pup might, fury filled his mind. He did not enter states like his father; he was too controlled, too calculating for that. There was not enough wolf in him to make him mad. The Lykoi and Massacre blood had cancelled that out and turned him into a beast of reason and a beast of hate.

The transformation, so fueled by his fury, took only minutes to pass. The wolf continued to toddle along, oblivious. Ezekiel rose like a golden-black demon, his hair all on end. His Secui form was tall and thick, and his twisted snarl announced war. Yet he moved with stealth through the tall grass, and when the time was right, rushed from it. Bared teeth announced him as he rushed at the wolf.

POSTED: Sun Oct 02, 2011 4:21 am

He stared at a skull thoughtfully, eyes locked on the black sockets of the bone. It was like he could feel the emptiness where the spirit had once lived. He set it down gently, sadness filling his eyes. The glee with which he had felt upon discovering the skulls quickly disappeared when he realized that they seemed to be put on show. Like trophies. The spirit was gone, but in a way, he thought, disrespect of the bone was disrespect of the life that had lived inside of it. He felt suddenly guilty - he had treated the skulls like toys.

Had he not heard the advance of the golden wolf, Loviere would have gladly taken the skull to put in a more respectful place. He spun to face the aggressor. White hair stood on end, golden eyes widened in shock as the wolf came for him. This was the second time on this journey that he had encountered violence. Wounds from his last encounter were still wet with puss, and the bad leg was sore. Loviere braced himself, leaning to his left to take the maximum amount of weight off of the twisted limb. His young muscles coiled as a review of defensive techniques flashed through his mind's eye. In his lesson with Alyssum, they had focused mainly on battle with his knife, not his claws and teeth.

"Stop! Let us talk." It was clear in his eyes that this angry wolf did not wish to speak, Loviere thought. The young man attempted to harness his fear, but found himself trembling before the opponent. He backed up quickly, teeth bared. He was usually one for submission, but this attack was seemingly uncalled for.

Words | + ooc:// Shit post.

POSTED: Sun Oct 02, 2011 4:18 pm

The savage in man is never
quite eradicated

Dunno if you want any injuries, so I'm having him not be super "I WILL KEEEL YOU" yet. He's snapping at Lo's legs, but not yet fully engaging him. Word Count » --

Ezekiel drew short, his fur a golden-black flame all on end. He was far lighter than his father, both in build and in coloration, but his aggression displayed itself in many of the same ways. Amber eyes burned in a face streaked by red, rust-muzzle crinkled and showed teeth that desired nothing more than to strike at the offending stranger. The wolf stunk of fear. He spoke, but Ezekiel did not hear.

A low and rumbling growl was all the answer received before the Aquila launched himself forward again. He moved to attack with the behavior and technique of coyotes—he rushed in, snapped at a limb from the side, and rushed back again. If he did manage to connect, the blows were not meant to hold. Somewhere, his mind recognized that if he weakened the wolf and spilled enough blood, he would be able to take him with little effort. It was his medical training, this knowledge, and it had made him far more dangerous despite his smaller size. A rippling snarl announced his third attack, which took him to the side he had not struck at before.

POSTED: Sat Oct 08, 2011 8:31 pm

OOC Minor injuries are fine with me. / +yo numbah!

Sorry for the wait.

His eyes widened as he felt the teeth sink into his leg. Pain shot up his limb and he cried out in anger. He staggered backward, teeth bared. His mind raced. Blood leaked from his fresh wounds, staining his creamy coat. The masked wolf struck out at his aggressor, fangs aiming for the area where his opponent's legs bent. As the hybrid bit Loviere again, the man cried out in pain. He staggered back heavily, shakily planting his hind legs behind him so as to strengthen his stance. The long claws of his Secui form raked the earth anxiously as he searched for a way out. His inexperience glowed in his face as the blood dripped from his legs to the earth.

He opened his mouth as if to speak further, but this man had made it clear enough that he was not there to converse. He walked carefully, being sure not to put weight on his lame leg. His eyes never left the enemy as he picked his way carefully around. He just needed an opening, a clear path, and he could run. The long white hair upon his neck rose and he kept his mouth ready to snap if the stranger struck again. Loviere's breathing was quick, heavy, as the bites on his legs began to take their toll.

POSTED: Sun Oct 16, 2011 4:07 pm

The savage in man is never
quite eradicated

Word Count » --

Teeth grazed his elbow, but Ezekiel was faster than the cripple (he had gathered that, now, from the way the wolf carried himself). His amber eyes gleamed with anticipation and adrenaline. Red paws moved across the packed earth, his tail lashing high behind his back. The Aquila watched as the stranger continued to pace, to turn and to look for a way out. This was not what Ezekiel wanted. He wanted a battle. He wanted to feel someone against him, to know they were real.

This man only wished to run. They always ran. He hated when they can because he despised cowards and he despised knowing that they had left him in silence. The Aquila’s elbow was bleeding. He didn’t even feel it. Another deep, hateful rumble grew from his chest and while he did not move to attack, he turned to mirror the pace and allow a path to open—one leading away from Inferni. Once the stranger ran, he would chase; at least then he might feel something.

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