la planete sauvage

POSTED: Thu May 28, 2009 5:19 pm

     The raven was perched on one of the large boulders that remained scattered amongst the plains of the Waste. Ezekiel had been watching the bird for what felt like hours, stretched out in the tall grass. Marlowe was busy tearing apart some sort of carcass, and cared little for the attention he had gained from the Hastati. Exhaling heavily and rolling onto his back, the blonde boy put his hands behind his head. It was a clear day, but puffy white clouds cut across his vision as they passed in a slow, occasional breeze.
     Despite the warm day and beautiful weather, Ezekiel’s eyes were dark. He had been replaying the battle that had broken his ribs and scarred his face for the past two months. His father had explained what Cwmfen had told him, but the fault had been his alone. It was stupid to have been caught off guard. Behind him, Marlowe let out a sudden noise, a wordless warning, and took to the air. Ezekiel rolled over and sat up, bangs flopping into his face as he sought the source of the disturbance.

POSTED: Wed Jun 03, 2009 3:55 am

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The wolven imposter that was Gaël could find little more to do outside of typical exploration. His experience with Halo, those first few moments when he was recognized as a wolf in a territory that would sooner eat him alive than hear the truth of his bloodline. Judging by what history of Inferni's members derived from sheer whispers and rumors, becoming acquainted with a majority of those in the ranks would not be easy with his size and appearance. How many wouldn't believe him? How long would it be before he could sleep at ease, with comrades and companions at the ready if trouble was to come his way? For once, he had broken away from Heath and Miriette -- Gaël could only imagine what they were up to or if they were surviving without their eldest brother... or if they were doing better than he was.

Needless to say, the circlet-eyed boy was a loner of sorts, but a loner in strange and fearful territory made his situation far worse. Gaël had little choice other than learning the foreign clanlands and trying to meet those he came across. The dark ponytail that rode along his back waved comfortably in the breeze as he moved, hands in his pockets and turquoise eyes aimlessly wandering and analyzing. The lands were darker than he might've preferred, perhaps, but he wasn't one to complain. A bird of some sort flew by shortly overhead, startling the big-boned hybrid. He gazed over his shoulder at the flying rat, not even able to get a decent look at it, and paused only to overlook the skyline there as well.

POSTED: Wed Jun 03, 2009 3:02 pm

     It did not take long to find the stranger. He was wolf-like, but not as much as his uncle had been. Still, the fact that he did resemble one so closely caused a secondary doubt to rise in the boy. He rose to his feet, standing a full head shorter then the dark male. This fact did not perturb him as it should have. Above, the raven let out a low warning, acting much as he was supposed to—that was his father’s voice, reminding him he could not afford to be so rash.
     Ezekiel heard this, but his head was spun with white noise. “Hey!” He called out, beginning to advance.

POSTED: Thu Jun 04, 2009 8:26 pm

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He probably should have known better, should have suspected something when the bird flew past rebelling his presence, but he hadn't. Gaël was as immature and inexperienced as yearling should be, though he hadn't been sheltered and the boy had seen and met many his age who had endured a thousand lives' tragedies before their first birthday. He took it for granted. Struck curious, the hybrid's peculiar turquoise eyes searched for the flying rat that had somehow escaped his perspective, and while the boy had no intentions of hunting down the annoyance despite the grumble of his stomach, might have been bored enough to follow it for the sheer hell of it.

Instead, however, a shrill shout from behind demanded otherwise. He turned, dark ears perking and low-swinging ponytail swiping at the air as he moved. Big eyes focused on the targeting, coyote-looking child; the quick reflexes of his father's had the yearling throwing his arms up in surprise and awkwardly stumbling backward and out of the attacker's direct line of targeting, though the whole motion had hardly been anything graceful or intimidating. Circlet eyes wide, the big-boned hybrid stared at his attacker, clearly perplexed and clueless. "Hey, I didn't do anyt'in! I'm just lookin' around!" Slow realization as to his previous encounters provoked more explanation, of course, though the yearling did not yet lower his stupidly defensive arms and shouted over them instead. "I'm part coyote! I live here! I did not mean to anger bird!" Gaël's voice was thick with his accent, though he struggled to sound normal and less foolish in the presence of others, but it was no use. Something told him that conversation wasn't going to be of much use.

POSTED: Mon Jun 08, 2009 11:18 am

     There was no doubt that the boy could have been a member of the clan; for as wolf-like as he looked, Ezekiel knew that it meant nothing. He did not see this, however. He saw a stranger becoming defensive, as opposed to aggressive. That struck him as peculiar. It was a sign that the darkly colored male was lying. Ezekiel’s hackles rose, and a deep growl began in his chest like a motor. His eyes focused on the boy with a predator’s intensity, and his hands positioned themselves low and loose—ready for an attack.
     With little more warning or provocation then that, Ezekiel rushed forward. He was, unsurprisingly, fast due to his size. One hand shot up with a short hook, intent on striking the stranger in the jaw, and the other went low, towards the gut. Though he did not have the same height or weight as the peculiar-eyed boy, months of training had fashioned him into a remarkable fighting machine.

POSTED: Fri Jun 12, 2009 2:46 am

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It wasn't much of a surprise that the little offender didn't even slow in his approach despite the argument the pitiful hybrid made. Instead, the creature made no sound and dived right into the action that Gaël should have expected all along, though the boy was clearly flustered. Though the big-boned yearling could have brought forth his arms and easily defended something, he did not; instead, the boy accepted both blows to his stomach and the underside of his chin. His opposer was powerful: Gaël stumbled back and helplessly tried to catch the wind that had been abruptly forced out of him.

He clenched his teeth and glared, but the boy did not fight back. "I'm not gonna fight you," the yearling grumbled, eyes glowing beacons of turquoise. He wouldn't end up dead, no, Gaël was not going to let himself fall until his father was taken care of. Instead, he straightened his back, vulnerably held out his arms, and tightened his frown and furrowed brows. "I have no reason to fight you," he darkly proclaimed. This boy was not his father. Words were useless, though; Gaël was well aware that his beatings were far from over, neither now nor anytime he continued to live in a clan where his face was treason.

POSTED: Fri Jun 12, 2009 3:27 pm

     Both blows connected, but the boy did not attempt to defend himself. He did not attempt to do anything. Ezekiel’s muzzle twisted into a hooked snarl, frustrated by the display. It was unusual—it meant something. His hands remained low at his side, and his eyes had gone hollow. “You sound like a liar,” the Hydra growled, his bangs flopping into his face. Ivory claws dug into the ground under his feet, and the coyote tensed his body again.
     “If you belong here then you better fucking prove it,” he spat, and rushed forward again. Still, he did not use his claws or teeth. He threw another punch towards the face, and kept one hand near his own chest, waiting for any sort of retaliation.

POSTED: Fri Jun 12, 2009 4:16 pm

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The opponent spat and hissed: Gaël's stance of defenselessness was not what the other wanted, as made clear by the insult and demand for evidence. The coyote gave him no time to make excuses before shooting his way again, and Gaël found no reason to interrupt and try to save himself. The yearling grimaced in preparation at the attack but buckled his legs and allowed yet another blow to the face. The little one was strong, but the hybrid did not back away or retaliate. Instead, he spit blood to the side and turned glaring eyes back to his abuser.

"How do I prove I'm not wolf?" He questioned to the air. A pause, but his burning eyes did not break their stolid gaze. "I have no proof." It was his battle to fight; there was no need to bring in Ryan's name or mention his meeting with Halo. One way or another, he needed to figure out how to gain their trust without the assistance of names and acquaintances; Gaël was part coyote, and that was good enough for him.

POSTED: Fri Jun 12, 2009 4:27 pm

If Zeke can get him down and get on-top of him, I'll bring Gabriel in after your post. :]
     The boy was not a fighter. Ezekiel knew that from each blow that was struck. Had he any fire he would have returned the blows, or done something. Blonde hair tumbled into his face, and Ezekiel’s eyes narrowed. What game was this kid playing? “Are you stupid!?” he snapped. All of the tension in his body coiled into a spring, and the Hydra’s fur stood on end.
     With a snarl, the coyote threw himself forward. He intended to take the boy down, get him in the dirt, and smack some sense into him. Though the other boy was larger, he was not defending himself. If he could get the wolfish male down he could force instinct to make him fight.

POSTED: Wed Jun 17, 2009 1:26 am

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This accusation was a new one, something perhaps he did not expect coming. Stupidity. No, he wasn't stupid; Gaël wasn't raised to be an idiot. The yearling had a sense of honor that instead was unlikely to resort to violence when he didn't need to. Despite his attack on his father and determination to learn skills in combat to eventually take the one-armed cyclops down, Gaël was a nonviolent being; a gentle giant of sorts, now being thrown to the ground by an expected, direct attack.

He grunted audibly at the blunt throb of his spine against the ground, pinned by the still-stranger and his nonsense. No, not pinned... Gaël was much bigger, but their strength had to be somewhere near to equal. Lying on his back put the yearling in too vulnerable a position -- this was much too dangerous to continue through peacefully. He would not fight, but he would not let himself be abused to no end by short-seeing idiots, either. Grinding his teeth together, the circlet-eyed yearling hissed through his teeth distastefully and finally raised his hand, aiming his fingers at the stranger's throat. A grab and a toss would be all it took; then he would get to his feet once more, and the idiot could continue to throw blows and punches until he grew tired and tried to make sense of it all.

POSTED: Fri Jun 19, 2009 4:43 pm

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Breaking my own post-order, so you're up, since I figure Gaël would likely speak up before Ezekiel. :]
     The sounds of combat had reached his ears by the way of the wind. Gabriel had made his way towards it quickly, slowed only due to his Optime form. What startled him was not that there was a fight occurring, but whom was involved. His son was atop the gray wolf-like youth, and they looked about ready to rip each other apart. One singular, loud bark escaped the doggish hybrid, and then Gabriel was on the two. With one strong grip he grabbed his son by the back of the neck and threw him off the younger man, snarling viciously in an unspoken demand.
     With his body between the two, Gabriel’s face jerked from one to another. “That’s enough!” Ezekiel scrambled to his feet, fur on end and eyes blazing, but he remained where he stood. If there was one thing Gabriel had taught his son, it was how to obey his commands—that was how the boy had earned the right to be a member of the Hydra. He turned back to Gaël and frowned, but did not ask either boy for an explanation. No doubt, they would begin explaining themselves all too soon.

POSTED: Sat Jun 27, 2009 12:52 am

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oh, I don't even care anymore that I posted with jefferson. augh.

His mind had been trapped in the ways of battle and reflexes; the bright-eyed boy was attentive to the danger this creature posed. Gaël could not call himself a peacemaker with the ceaseless bloodthirst he hardly wanted to bring up, but the yearling fashioned himself into a pacifist as much as he could, even if that was not what Inferni might have expected of him. He didn't want to kill a thousand wolves like they, not when they shared his blood. He cared little for the racism the clan maintained: Gaël had arrived there to learn to fight, to sharpen his skills, and to take down his father. He had no intentions of doing anything more.

An interrupting to this mindless spinning within his head was welcome. A third party, unsurprisingly unfamiliar to the inexperienced circlet boy, came and ripped the two combatants apart. Gaël could only scramble to his feet and attempt to dust the whole thing off his shoulders when his opponent withdrew, though fury still burned in his eyes. The yearling knew nothing about this new face, but authority leaked from his voice and his presence. The boy humbled himself immediately, though that was nothing short of normal, and kept his eyes at the ground. Somehow this was now his fault too, and he'd hardly done anything. That was the way things usually turned out. "Just a scuffle," he mumbled, averting his eyes. There was no need to point fingers and cause even more trouble for himself. "Dere was a misunderstanding."

POSTED: Thu Jul 02, 2009 10:35 pm

     They might have gone further then this, was it not for his father’s untimely interruption. Ezekiel was disappointed, not because they had not finished the fight, but because his opponent had not fought back. Grunting and flaring both ears forward, annoyed, the coyote watched as the Aquila tried to make sense of the ring-eyed wolf’s words, and then turned to his son. “I thought he was trespassing,” Ezekiel explained flatly.
     Though he was certain that Gabriel was not satisfied with the answer, and that he would need to explain himself further, Ezekiel did not. This had not been a simple mistake. He had wanted to see something that had not been shown. He wanted blood. He wanted to know that Inferni was not losing itself to weak-willed wolves who claimed they were coyotes.

POSTED: Sat Jul 04, 2009 4:48 pm

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___ Out of character stuff goes hurr.

     The wolfish boy spoke peculiarly—his accent was unfamiliar to Gabriel, who had not traveled further north then the old territories. His ears flared forward at this, puzzled, and then turned as Ezekiel offered the same lackluster explanation. He knew that there was something beyond this, but neither of the boys were giving him ground. Frustrated, he shot a glare at his son. “Ezekiel, go.” Though the golden-boy looked as if he wanted to say something further, he nodded and left, skulking off into the tall grass.
     Alone now, the Aquila looked to the unfamiliar boy. “I haven’t seen you before, so I can understand why he attacked you. If I hadn’t smelled Inferni’s scent on you I would have assumed you were a wolf as well.” That had been chance; the stranger looked nothing like a coyote.

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