more bombs are coming

POSTED: Sat Apr 04, 2009 12:14 am

     The air felt peculiar. Ezekiel had realized that not long after he had begun to make his way home, having left the woad-painted female behind. He ached from their play-skirmishes, which he had (as of yet) failed to mention to his father. Coupling the two sessions was more then enough to cause the skin under his fur to be bruised and sore, but he understood the need for such strenuous and involved work. His body would adjust.
     What perturbed him was the sensation of being watched. It had begun not that long ago, and it was a sensation that set his hair on end. While he could not justify the feeling, he was certain that someone had to be out there. Someone coherent, sentient, that was aware of how to stalk and tail a living creature. A predator, of no doubt, and one that for whatever reason found interest in the coyote. Ezekiel, in his lupus form, was no doubt at a disadvantage against anything larger then himself. He stopped, quite suddenly, and his large ears swiveled wildly. There. He heard something.
     To be more precise, he heard someone.

POSTED: Sat Apr 04, 2009 4:24 am

http://i233.photobucket.com/albums/ee19 ... e_copy.png); background-position: bottom center; background-repeat: no-repeat;">
Yay~~ OuO And he’s in his Secui form, ^=^ lemme know when you want Cwmfen to pop in
300+


He stirred in the darkness like a shard of mist, his silhouette softened only by the whispers of the night. He had had a taste of what sort of things inhabited these lands, what sort of things his daughter may be associating with. But he had not met anyone who seemed to recognize him, and none who bore the scent of his daughter. But of course, the question had never been raised, and he would not raise it yet. The Korean knew how to play his games, knew how to be patient. The snake was still coiled, but now it was poised to strike. A sneer tugged at the corners of his mouth as he leered at the darkness that clung to his fur. He listened to its whispers....

Someone was there, they said.

The black claws tore the earth as he traveled in that eerie silence, passing like a wraith even as he shifted his course. The black tail flickered behind him, melding into the tendrils of darkness that concealed him. Only the white of his torso stood out dimly, like the warning of a poisonous creature. And perhaps he was poisonous.... There. Ahead he saw the creature in question. The black maw twitched as he breathed in the coyote’s scent. It clicked immediately. Cwmfen. The black ears pushed forward, his hackles rising in anticipation. And he circled about the creature in silence, watching him as he passed. The black, fathomless orbs held no intent, but what was about to happen was undeniable. With purpose, the Korean snapped a twig, and his movements ceased, momentarily assessing the reaction of the thing. A swiveling of ears. But that snapped twig was all the warning allowed in this game.

Like a leaping flame, the powerful haunches shot him forward, his colourless form cutting the air with the merciless hunger of a knife’s blade. There was no sound, for the male was ever silent. The shadows seemed to leap with his form before they fell back and died pathetically upon the cold earth. But the earth was not so cold as that empty soul that sought now this boy’s blood. The larger male sought to crush and mangle, to destroy and shatter the shell that carried the boy’s soul. But he would not bring Death upon him yet, now he would not give it. Perhaps he would ask about his daughter’s scent upon his fur, perhaps he would wonder at her whereabouts. And then he would kill him. But now the Korean brute would be allowed to play. With that cold, mirthless sneer upon his parted jaws, the black talons reached out with unforgiving intent as his form came upon the boy with that intent to crush him. The jaws would follow suit, and those cruel jaws would be satisfied.

POSTED: Sat Apr 04, 2009 3:08 pm

     He had been raised to believe the world was wicked. He had been trained to listen, to be aware, to know his position and be aware of the settings. All of these things could not outweigh experience. Ezekiel had a fraction of a second to realize the air had turned when the man came at him. Had he been completely unaware, he would have been frozen, for the stranger was massive and a shadow (save the peculiar white collar) and came without warning. That millisecond saved him. Move!MOVEMOVEMOVE!
     All four feet sprung, and he rushed out of the way of the body. His speed, that God-given speed, was all that saved him. He felt the heat from the stranger, saw the flash of his teeth and the intent of his game, and for the first time in his life was afraid. There was something hellish in this man, something mechanical, something that was wicked and that would seek to destroy him. Ezekiel recalled all he had been taught, and all that instinct told him, and swallowed the fear. It settled in his gut like a lead weight. Above all of this, though, Ezekiel was a soldier—and his face locked in with the jarhead’s intensity, with the absolution of all his mistakes and training, and knew that the enemy would seek to destroy him.

POSTED: Sat Apr 04, 2009 4:57 pm

http://i233.photobucket.com/albums/ee19 ... e_copy.png); background-position: bottom center; background-repeat: no-repeat;">
300+

His prey was smaller and thus weaker, a coyote and thus lesser. The boy was quick, like a mouse. But the Korean was the cat here, and his being was built for the killing of such things. The claws that had aimed for the thing caught nothing, tearing the earth instead as he landed with a heavy but silent grace. Already his body was turning, even before he had completely set himself upon the ground. The black orbs watched their quarry as the jaws snapped like thunder about the air. The air shuddered from the shock of it as he moved forward. And the pied brute saw the look in the boy’s eye, saw his posture. That laughter echoed within his mind. So this was a little soldier boy? Perhaps this thing was a playmate of his daughter, who had taken to that life of war. The crow wolf did not believe this young thing was more than that, if that at all.

The brute may have been large, but his sinew was wound tightly about his lean frame. And the endless training of his culture’s martial arts made him quick and powerful, even in this secui form. His movements were light and precise, each attack ending with a power that sounded with a snap. He smelled the other’s fear as he closed in, drank it in like a drug. And the Korean did not wait for the other to make another move. He would attack first and he would rise victorious—as he always did. Propelled with a speed and agility that far belied his appearance, that shard of darkness that held the light as a warning moved head on. He did not waste his time with maneuvers he did not require, but his trained body was ready to move with smaller thing, to adjust. He used his great head bringing it up to catch the coyote’s jaw like an uppercut, the movement brief but powerful. He wanted the thing beneath him so that his claws would be satisfied.

POSTED: Tue Apr 07, 2009 4:58 pm

Feel free to have Corvus bloody him up. I want Ezekiel to get a scar (or two) on his face from this. Then I can use that picture you sent me for him. :]
     Tristan had taught him about weapons, and how in battle, it was not these that failed, but the men who used them. His father had furthered this knowledge (though unarmed), and told him that surprise was the best advantage. To be caught unaware meant the enemy was better; and then you were either lucky or dead. Ezekiel had never really imagined he would be in such a situation. He was training without the threat of war, for he underestimated this place. He had underestimated the people; that someone would seek to ruin him without provocation had never even crossed his mind.
     The man came for him with a seemingly unnatural speed. Ezekiel tensed and tried to read his opponent, but his inexperience prevented such a thing until it was too late. A heavy object collided with his jaw, and he balked, staggering sideways. The force was enough that he felt his feet leave the ground. Time raced; he hit the dirt and realized he was vulnerable. There was no time left. The coyote scrambled and managed to get his belly on the ground, to protect it, and knew quite suddenly that if he did not get away soon he would be dead.

POSTED: Tue Apr 07, 2009 10:38 pm

http://i233.photobucket.com/albums/ee19 ... e_copy.png); background-position: bottom center; background-repeat: no-repeat;">
Okay~ ^=^ Slight PP I think; let me know if you want it changed!
300+


His maw caught the other, the satisfying impact resounding in the air, then deep within him where the still, gelid waters of his soul were held. A ripple once, then stillness again. Where no other emotion would move those waters, such contact, such fear, moved them. And the thing fell, unable to counter him with an attack or even rise to move away. He sneered. It was young still. And it was too bad that such a young seedling had to be cut down by the cold darkness of the sudden frost. But, as did the frost, the pied brute did not discriminate, did not hold mercy within him. And as the young thing struggled to scramble away, he heard only the frantic clawing of those paws, and they only pleaded for him to come and take life. The darkness laughed. And he laughed too, that mirthless grating sounding upon the air like a snarl.

The large crow wolf leapt, crushing the pathetic thing beneath a single paw as those cruel jaws snapped down near the boy’s face, intent upon cutting him, perhaps even to crush the bones that shaped his features. And it was given like warning, as if he despised how this creature fled in the face of darkness. The claws dug into the other’s back as that suave, empty tenor murmured, "Why not embrace this Darkness?" with alluring tones. Then the jaws were still as they lingered on the back of his neck, lingering dangerously as that quiet grating sounded. Then they opened and closed about it with a crushing force—but not too roughly. He wanted that life to linger a while longer and understand what this sensation was. As the great paw lifted, the maw rose and shook him viciously as if he wanted the thing to break, to rip apart.

POSTED: Wed Apr 08, 2009 12:18 am

Feel free to PP any additional wounds on his body. After that you can also come save him. :]
     The most traumatizing thing Ezekiel had lived through was the great fire. He remembered it, but just barely. Even with all of his training, all of his scrapes and bruises, he was shocked by the sudden and brutal violence. Something tore his face open and his world was, for an instant, filed with hot white pain. He was aware of the sensation of warmth, and that he was bleeding, and that his left eye was blurry.
     It was the voice that made cold reality wash through his body. Even with the weight on his back and the nails in his spine he felt that sudden sobriety of the situation. Then something rushed through his chest, above the lead in his stomach, and he was filled with a terrible rage. He snarled, and a series of loud coyote yelps managed to make their way out of his chest, violent sounds, but they pierced the darkness and in some futile way, he knew that if there was any chance it would be with that sound.

POSTED: Wed Apr 08, 2009 1:03 am

http://i233.photobucket.com/albums/ee19 ... e_copy.png); background-position: bottom center; background-repeat: no-repeat;">
Haha! Okay, ^=^ Are a few broken ribs okay? Also, once Cwmfen comes in, Corvus will probably disappear in the next post, ^=^;; Is that okay?
300+


The male’s tongue pressed up against the fur of the coyote as his jaws held him, tasting the blood that leaked into his mouth. It was like the blood of a lamb, and the blood of youth, the life of youth, was somehow much more satisfying. Yet, it was not quite so satisfying, he decided, as the blood of that blindfolded creature. His blood was different. That life was different. And he would kill it one day too, just as he would kill this insignificant boy, this boy who carried the scent of his daughter upon his fur. And the sinister mind did not once forget that this was what it was about, that he would, before he crushed that life, question the boy, knowing that there was the possibility that he would get nothing. And the Korean did not care. If there was no satisfying answer, the scent upon his fur would be enough. That much the boy had already betrayed to him. And he wondered how much more he could squeeze out.

And the boy snarled, and the man could feel his rage like the hotness in his blood. But as those yelps sounded in the night, the black auds that rose upon his head like the horns of some demon were were offended by them even as the man was all at once amused, not once thinking that those sound had been raised like an alarm, betraying his position. But then, the coming of another was no consequence to him. They would all be crushed. And then, as the male gave a final squeeze of his jaws, releasing only scarcely before the life would be crushed between them, he decided not to ask questions, that he would play the game with only the scent to lead him. The male was patient, and his body required nothing so soon. As the boy’s body hit the earth, he pursued it, his movements almost unhurried as he moved, the great paws treading upon the body as he leaned down upon it. The full weight of the lupine secui was pressed upon the insignificant frame of the young coyote. The pressure slowly increased upon his ribcage as he pressed, the progress slow and unrelenting as the black claws hooked themselves mercilessly in the skin, holding him there. He wanted to crush the life slowly, to feel it leave him, wondering what this youth would feel like as an empty shell crushed beneath him. Snap. One of the ribs gave way, then—Snap! another, and with that mirthless laughter, the male pushed for another.

POSTED: Wed Apr 08, 2009 1:16 am

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v515/ ... fenban.jpg); background-position: bottom center; background-repeat: no-repeat;">
300+

The black fae walked quietly, easily. Her soul was at ease, encouraged by her regular meetings with Ezekiel. She enjoyed the boy’s company. His eagerness to learn and her own eagerness to learn with him was something she had never felt before. And they were good practices, their techniques practical for use in the world whether it would be for self defense or war. And soon, when they had comfortably covered the more basic of the skills, the female would push the boy to try knew things, and she knew that he would be great. She could only hope that Dahlia would not be pushed into War with Inferni. Once, the female had almost encouraged it, needing war to fulfill her passion for the martial world. But now she made an effort to lessen the tension, for she did not wish to face Ezekiel as an enemy. Of course, if it came down to that, Cwmfen would cut him down to bring victory to her side. She was a warrior, not a civilian.

She had lingered upon the these lands that night, watching the sky. She was comforted by the regained ability to shift, for the wounds head been healed long enough. But the spar had made them a bit tight, and they tugged at her now, more so than she liked to admit. For a moment, the woad bound warrior rested. But she was forced from the earth by a serious of calls, rising upon the distant air like an alarm.

She recognized that voice immediately, and she was already running toward it before she realized what she must do. But what she found there the female had not expected, and it stopped that graceful lope in its tracks. The crow wolf. He was crouched over the fallen body, but her eyes were riveted first upon that form. "Corvus," she breathed, and fear flickered in her heart, her eyes traveling over that powerful body with that familiar mixture of fear and admiration. But when the white eyes saw the body of her friend beneath the paws that sought to crush him, she snarled, a challenge held openly as she faced the shadow from her dreams. For a moment the fear was chased away as her tail raised above her and her ears pushed forward. But she did not yet leap, for she knew that in this form, as she had been with Hybrid, she was at a disadvantage. But at least if her father chose to go after her, Ezekiel would be spared.

POSTED: Wed Apr 08, 2009 3:24 am

     Snap!
     There was a sharp and splitting pain in his side. It was as if the wind had been knocked out of him with a knife, and the boy gasped, was struck again, and his mind was enveloped by white light. Only then did it occur to him that perhaps this was his test, as Talitha’s rape had been hers. This was God’s Will, and this was what He was doing to test the limits of faith.
     It was her voice that broke through the demon’s laughter. Ezekiel’s eyes snapped open and for one brief moment saw nothing but white, and then he was encompassed by the darkness. The coyote knew that the woad was a warrior, and knew she was formidable, but he did not know if she could fight this madman. He did not realize she recognized the pied wolf and he did not recognize that this had been his goal all along. What flooded his mind was instinct, the need above all else to survive.
     With a snarl, he whipped his head around, blindly striking out for any portion of the wolf. Even if it meant nothing, he would try.

POSTED: Wed Apr 08, 2009 3:40 am

http://i233.photobucket.com/albums/ee19 ... e_copy.png); background-position: bottom center; background-repeat: no-repeat;">
500+

Corvus did not look up even as the sound of another’s approach met those horned ears. The black orbs watched the pitiful creature beneath him, watched as he intended to crush the life slowly from his body, to force it out with every cracked rib until he was either too broken to continue or one of those ribs pierced a vital organ. The paws were knowing of how he crushed the boy, and the maw lowered to the bloodied, bruised body, brushing against the damp fur as if in that feral need to inflict some additional wound. But then the voice made him pause, and a knowing sneer split his wicked maw. The large crania lifted from the boy’s proximity as he turned it to look upon his daughter.

The crow wolf had not seen her in two years, and he had trailed her since then, following old and cold trails—until now. The orbs, those empty, fathomless orbs, penetrated into those white ones, searching her, stripping her down and violating her, making her mind his own. And for a long moment, he was silent until he finally relinquished that gaze to observe her body openly, that body upon which he would soon satisfy himself. Those woad lines were lost in his colourless vision, and he saw only what she was beneath them, stripping her of her protection and her glory. But her body did not disappoint him, and he laughed, the sound as mirthless as ever, holding within it a new, sadistic pleasure.

He breathed in her scent as she snarled, and he pulled his tail between his legs, a gesture that completely mocked her. He knew he could kill her, that he could rape her and keep her, but he would let her have this boy. It would be his gift to her. The black tail lifted again as it waved in the air like a hissing snake, and the maw lowered suddenly as if in an acknowledging bow. But the jaws parted as those teeth bit the shoulder of the boy, tossing him closer to her feet. Worthless. And then he backed away into the darkness, just as he had done with the masked creature, leaving behind only his laughter as he melted into the night.

POSTED: Wed Apr 08, 2009 3:51 am

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v515/ ... fenban.jpg); background-position: bottom center; background-repeat: no-repeat;">
300+

Cwmfen was afraid, and she was afraid of him as she was afraid of no other creature. Why was he here? But she knew why he was there. He was there to find her, and to take from her what he had created her for. She tried to move beyond her fear, but when he looked at her, she was frozen there. How did he find her? And this she did not know, would never know. All she knew was that he would find her. He would always find her and he had. She had been a fool to think otherwise, and she knew it now. The crow-wolf would learn where she lived, which pack she had joined—if he hadn’t already. There was no question in her mind why Ezekiel had been the one made to suffer this night. And he would do it to anyone and everyone until he got what he wanted. But as the white orbs saw the fallen boy, she found the will to take that single step forward, snarling her warning. If he didn’t move away from him now, she would attack.

And then he laughed. The white orbs looked into those eyes that drew her in, that looked over her body with that empty, terrifying pleasure. She had allowed certain males to look over her before, but none had looked at her with such eyes. And she hated it and that laughing noise, felt the hate that was the strongest thing she had ever felt. And yet, she challenged him, almost welcomed him, to come and do what it was that he wished. And she wondered if she felt that way because she wanted to draw him away from Ezekiel or if she simply had become like him. But then the male was backing away, throwing the younger boy at her feet, before he disappeared like a nightmare in the waking.

She stood there, watching the space until she was sure that the wind had carried her father away. And then the fae ran to the boy’s side, a soft whine escaping her. The woad bound maw leaned down, touching the boy lightly upon the cheek. "Ezekiel...?" The alto melody was strong as she called to him, attempting to break through whatever thoughts the boy may have been feeling. And she felt a great shame for the first time in her life that she had brought this upon him.

POSTED: Wed Apr 08, 2009 4:14 am

I totally want to have a follow up to this with Gabe and Cwmfen once these two get back to Inferni. :]
     Nothing but air flew between his teeth, for all too suddenly he was falling again. He landed in a heap, coughing and nearly unable to breathe. The coyote whined and his eyes remained closed, blood seeping over his face. It was warm but unwelcoming, and Ezekiel hated the feeling. Not until someone came close to him did he try and move, paws digging into the dirt, but the pain shot through his body so sharply he was unable to move.
     Forcing his eyes open, the boy was greeted by white eyes and blue symbols that were akin to warpaint. In this moment, however, Cwmfen was not a warrior. She was his savior, his angel, and he knew that if not for her presence he would be dead. Weakly, his tail gave a wag. “I,” he began, only to have his breath cut off suddenly and leave him gasping for air. It hurt more then anything he had felt before, and he was positive that something inside of him was broken.

POSTED: Wed Apr 08, 2009 4:37 am

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v515/ ... fenban.jpg); background-position: bottom center; background-repeat: no-repeat;">
Yes~~ n___n I can start one for us either tomorrow or Thursday, ^=^;;
300+


Cwmfen quietly, gently, eased the boy’s effort’s to move, pressing her maw into his shoulder. She saw the wounds from her father’s jaws and knew that he could have done worse. Ezekiel could have been dead, but instead, he would live. Perhaps that was crueler, for he would suffer now until the wounds were healed. And, the female decided, they would definitely not be able to continue their sparring practices for a good while now. The female gave the boy a sad smile. "I’m sorry, Ezekiel, that this had to happen to you." The warrior, a simple creature, would not have been troubled so deeply if this had happened to a stranger. "Wait here for me," the soft melody continued gently. "I’ll get you out of here."

The black fae took several steps back, unwilling to leave his side for even a moment even though she knew that her father would not return tonight. Closing her eyes, the warrior began the processes of the change, willing her body to fit the shape of that bipedal form. She knew that with each minute that went by, the boy was left to suffer in the cool night air, but she had to shift, for it was the only way she could return him to the lands of which he was a part. When the transformation had been complete, she walked back to Ezekiel, kneeling at his side. Her hand gently ran over his torso, and she felt the broken edges of his bone pressing against his skin. Unfortunately, she knew nothing of setting bones, but she was sure that someone in Inferni would. "Stay with me—this will hurt." The warrior warned him as her hands carefully lifted the boy into her arms. And then she was moving, utilizing the grace of her body to ease the boy as she traveled.

Dead Topics

cron