Post by Akante on Feb 1, 2012 0:04:33 GMT -5
Mara. said:
He slogged through the marshlands with an inexorable, unhurried step, a skeletal and scarred kelpie-like monster too handicapped to avoid reeds and mud and every pitfall enough to remained clean and unmarred. That dusky dark pelt was as much swamp matter as fur now, a few vines carelessly draping that strong curve of spine and everything else from brambles to burrs prickling in the pelt; water and mud paved a sheen over increasingly-gaunt ribs.
It was difficult, finding food in unknown territory, hunting without eyes when you could just as easily run headlong into a tree's trunk. The storm that had destroyed his island had obliterated Mara's known world, and now he relied on tricks and speed-gestured mental maps and another's eyes. Perhaps without his accompaniment, the island monster would have starved by now, for that matter. If nothing else, one thing had become clear:
he needed a new island.
No mind was given to the inhabitants, no attention even put forth towards El Dorado; he did not stop at the border as much as he paused in place to survey his new land, on the fringe of that ten-mile island at ED's heart. Those scarred cheeks shifted as his jaw clenched, tongue licking out over thin, dry lips. Presumably Theta was still with him, but who knows?
This would do.
Theta said:
He'd followed someone. That was new. That was different. There'd always been no one to him, nothing but the howling wind and rustling leaves. Anyone who had been around was either hunted or a Forest Demon. Mara was... neither of these. Perhaps it was because he was blind that Theta found some solace in what was unusual company, or maybe it was the fact that there had be no one for too long. All he saw was an older male who hadn't done anything to hi yet, even allowing (in his own way) Theta to follow him. In the end it was likely that in a twisted way Theta had mistaken what was and what should be, slapping on the title of 'father figure' and accepting it despite how wrong it was.
It lead for quite a little predicament.
Still, he was glad to be free again. Out of that promise-help-bad-people place. They'd left that long behind, whispers of something going wrong. That was fine by him. If a hive of the Forest Demons fell he was happy to accept that. To move on and live as.... he wanted to? Hardly. The sham of a life he had was likely not something any would chose to live for the comfort. Nothing but a boy riddled in physical and mental scars, stunted, withered, bitter. There was nothing truly good left save a childish need to cling to something. Anything. Whatever he could find that was better than everything else, for now it seemed Mara had become the object for his misplaced affection.
Grumbling as they pressed forth he walked behind the other, letting him push through the worst of it and then following his tracks. He wasn't stupid. He knew how to take advantage of something like that, and so he did. The blind beast was for now his metaphorical bulldozer, clearing the path whilst Theta carefully picked through broken vines and reeds. The thought to guide the other never occurred to Theta, or if it did it wasn't something he offered. Mara was the teacher here. The one who knew how to remain unseen. Blindness was obviously no hindrance there, which was just as well. The young boy had no concept of what it was to coddle another.
As Mara stopped Theta would press slightly closer to him, still retaining some distance though. Trust was not complete. "Here...?" Not so much a question on location, as a question of why. Broken English though would likely prevent full comprehension on the other's part though, just as it had at various times during their first meeting.
It lead for quite a little predicament.
Still, he was glad to be free again. Out of that promise-help-bad-people place. They'd left that long behind, whispers of something going wrong. That was fine by him. If a hive of the Forest Demons fell he was happy to accept that. To move on and live as.... he wanted to? Hardly. The sham of a life he had was likely not something any would chose to live for the comfort. Nothing but a boy riddled in physical and mental scars, stunted, withered, bitter. There was nothing truly good left save a childish need to cling to something. Anything. Whatever he could find that was better than everything else, for now it seemed Mara had become the object for his misplaced affection.
Grumbling as they pressed forth he walked behind the other, letting him push through the worst of it and then following his tracks. He wasn't stupid. He knew how to take advantage of something like that, and so he did. The blind beast was for now his metaphorical bulldozer, clearing the path whilst Theta carefully picked through broken vines and reeds. The thought to guide the other never occurred to Theta, or if it did it wasn't something he offered. Mara was the teacher here. The one who knew how to remain unseen. Blindness was obviously no hindrance there, which was just as well. The young boy had no concept of what it was to coddle another.
As Mara stopped Theta would press slightly closer to him, still retaining some distance though. Trust was not complete. "Here...?" Not so much a question on location, as a question of why. Broken English though would likely prevent full comprehension on the other's part though, just as it had at various times during their first meeting.
Rita said:
[[ EXCITE~ ]]
She closed in on the last portion of the borders that she had yet to mark as her own. The bitch may as well have been glaring at the most terrible of all archenemies, with how she grumbled and cussed. The scar on her shoulder ached, her mind churning thoughts of disgust at the very idea of what she'd done. Made a pact, however loose it may be, with the same bastard who had dared to assault her? A rapid shudder and snarl and the female whirled herself around, gazing into the land she could now call her own, without anyone rightfully contesting it. Goddammit, she'd earned this. Even precious little Emila couldn't hold her tail high against this. That smug grin spread wide, and Rita huffed before turning back to look outside, where she'd cast her past aside and left it to burn. Let the fires consume it ravenously, for all she cared. The future looked prosperous, and that's all she gave a damn about.
A moment or two passed, and the female found herself still staring into the oblivion of the outside world. A quick few blinks and she shook herself out of the hypnosis, her head turning to gaze down the borders a bit. No one there. A low gurgling growl slurred from her core, her auds flickering tentatively before she turned to the other side. And there. She saw them. Two of them. A quick inhale and she prepped her body for a stride, her thick legs carrying her the few thirty yards or so until she neared the brutes. The bright red and black one had been the first to catch her sight, and so she went to plaster on her alluring mask. But as those sweet twinkling eyes met those hollow sockets of the other, her transformation faltered. She stood still, her tail twitching to lower itself, and almost just as quickly raising itself hesitantly. A confused, questioning look took the place of her facade.
"Luck hasn't been too kind to you, now has it?" More or less stating the obvious, though her tone offered support. Understanding. You belong here, friend. Mutant. Beast. Her attention switched over to the other, the glare in her eyes asking him all too harshly, "And you?" How has fate treated you two? Considering their rogue state, and the very fact that they were upon her borders, she'd assume they wished to spit luck in the face. To castrate it and make it suffer. "Where do you wish to go...?" Where do you wish to go, with your life? Are you truly satisfied with where you are? Or do you want more?
I can give you more...
Mara. said:
They were both broken and scarred, some retarded chunks of wolf that assembled Frankenstein-style to be roughly one whole and healthy animal. The boy's presence made Mara uncomfortable not because he offset the dire as a person, just by...existing. Anyone did, really. It was a wariness brought on by the vulnerability of sightlessness, a handicap that would always be a handicap to anyone, (whether they pretended otherwise or not) short of godmod. That wild-animal aversion (alone = safe) hindered if not prevented any trust in Mara being returned mutually, and so he let Theta follow only ambivalently, as he could just as quickly round on the shadow with a vicious assault of skinny jaws snapping to send him away.
But he hadn't, yet. That was something. Right?
More than the island monster had ever given anyone else in many years, at the very least.
"Here...?"
Head turned, an ear flicking to draw in the words that might come; the darkling wolf mused over this single one, considering it with something close to thoughtfulness with a demeanor that could be mistaken for inattentive distance.
"Yes."
Returned absently, but simply; he took the other's question as something like "is this the place?". There was no hesitation, no indecision, and maybe they shared a common feature in the way the most important parts of their speech were the empty spaces in-between the lines, absence louder than words.
He had not told the other to beat it and leave him to his island.
"Luck hasn't been too kind to you, now has it?"
Mara had whirled at the approach, paws scuffing up a spray of water and assorted refuse from the marshy, boggy earth, with the speed of that paranoid reaction. She would not catch him off-guard; fur bristled, crinkling along his spine to stand on end, along with that tail. It was not the stance of one prepared to roll belly-up in submission, make friends or attack.
On guard.
En guarde?
As her tone did not promise violence, so his regard was in kind -- but if this newcomer had the perception to see how scarred this one was, damage that went far beyond missing eyes, so she might understand how dangerous a wounded animal could be. Altruism was eclipsed by that basic need for defense and security, an immutable choice.
I am willing to hurt you and anything else that poses a threat.
"Where do you wish to go...?"
A rough reply: "This island." Jerked muzzle towards the land before them, in indication. Hoped that it truly was an island, and not just a peninsula or coastline; he'd walk its circumference to be sure. "We need a new one. It'll do."
We.
Theta said:
"Yes."
There was a sense of frustration at the misunderstanding, he didn't overly enjoy others not knowing what he meant. Answering something totally different to what he'd intended. Sometimes the mistakes went unnoticed, miscommunication acting like a strange stand in that in his mind worked. The scarred boy had a the simple tendency to take words on face value, subtexts meant nothing to him. Not when words meant little to him in the first place, body language meaning far more. Before he could say more, blundering to establish his real question, someone else came. It was enough for him to raise hackles and growl loudly, shifting closer still to Mara in what was either the desire for protection or the offer to fight with him.
"Luck hasn't been too kind to you, now has it? And you?"
Luck was not a concept he knew, and if he did he'd likely simply scorn it. Loathing it for the hand it had given him life. Instead of answering he instead made a gurgling grunting noise, looking to Mara for some sort of lead. Did they attack? Run? Why were they simply standing here? The very concept of such totally baffled him, leaving him grasping for the tail ends of answers that continued to elude him. Always in sigh but never truly in reach. It would have been annoying were he not long since used to it. He accepted and ignored the fact, instead shifting uncertainly on his feet as his heart hammered against his chest. He was torn, but as Mara spoke it eased the situation somewhat. He didn't have to deal with it.
"This island. We need a new one. It'll do."
Were he more acute in the use of language he'd notice the use of one particular word in that sentence, as it stood all meanings went over his head other other than the fact this was about to become home. Home was not something he'd had since.... ever. The thought of it now rather scared him, enough to wilt ears as he fixed his gaze on Rita. "Demon...?" And her answer now was so very important to him not flipping the shit on her. Perhaps he could live here, but if there were Forest Demons he would remove them. He'd kill them and steal their eyes. Mara had asked after all.
There was a sense of frustration at the misunderstanding, he didn't overly enjoy others not knowing what he meant. Answering something totally different to what he'd intended. Sometimes the mistakes went unnoticed, miscommunication acting like a strange stand in that in his mind worked. The scarred boy had a the simple tendency to take words on face value, subtexts meant nothing to him. Not when words meant little to him in the first place, body language meaning far more. Before he could say more, blundering to establish his real question, someone else came. It was enough for him to raise hackles and growl loudly, shifting closer still to Mara in what was either the desire for protection or the offer to fight with him.
"Luck hasn't been too kind to you, now has it? And you?"
Luck was not a concept he knew, and if he did he'd likely simply scorn it. Loathing it for the hand it had given him life. Instead of answering he instead made a gurgling grunting noise, looking to Mara for some sort of lead. Did they attack? Run? Why were they simply standing here? The very concept of such totally baffled him, leaving him grasping for the tail ends of answers that continued to elude him. Always in sigh but never truly in reach. It would have been annoying were he not long since used to it. He accepted and ignored the fact, instead shifting uncertainly on his feet as his heart hammered against his chest. He was torn, but as Mara spoke it eased the situation somewhat. He didn't have to deal with it.
"This island. We need a new one. It'll do."
Were he more acute in the use of language he'd notice the use of one particular word in that sentence, as it stood all meanings went over his head other other than the fact this was about to become home. Home was not something he'd had since.... ever. The thought of it now rather scared him, enough to wilt ears as he fixed his gaze on Rita. "Demon...?" And her answer now was so very important to him not flipping the shit on her. Perhaps he could live here, but if there were Forest Demons he would remove them. He'd kill them and steal their eyes. Mara had asked after all.
Rita said:
The violent shuffle and rebuttal of motions might have startled the she-wolf, had she not given much care to his reaction in the first place. The domino effect seemed to topple onto the males, and almost just as quickly the tri-colored companion to the beast reacted with nearly the same mechanisms and tactics. Bravo, dear lads. Maintaining a relatively 'safe' distance away from the two males, her faint grin still glimmering, she kept her posture. Thick legs held her tall, muscles taut and covered by a healthy coating of scruffily fur. Raised eyebrows intensified her glare, where pale, dull eyes bore down on her two subjects. Her two recruits. Victims? Their fate rested in her paws, so to speak, and so she couldn't deem them subject to her fury, love, or patience until she knew exactly what these brutes were capable of. Each of her pawns deserved their own distinct portion of her very being, and it all depended all too heavily on their own contributions and potential.
So what were these two aiming to accomplish? To prove?
As the dark, shaggy male completed his defiant whirl, his stance on edge, it would settle in. Goddamn. With a flicker of her ear, Rita would completely acknowledge the extent to this beast's marrings. The scars caressed his body all too comfortably, like a child clinging to its mother's form for a sense of stability. Were these bearings of the monster given in glory or shame? A silent 'hmph' and the Captain took a casual step to the side - a step neither in dominance or submission. A neutral conversation would ensue, right?
"This island." Oh. Her ears perked forwards, her gaze lightening up a bit. Just what was it about this territory, her precious, glorified land, that he could possibly desire? "My island... Our island?" Would he be willing to join her, to admit his willingness to follow her ways in order to obtain his rightful place among this island. "We need a new one. It'll do." Oh, so now it's we? The Captain cast a glance over to the other male, who seemed to be satisfied with what his counterpart had said. Seconds passed, Rita having been generous enough to give them some time to add any words they saw fit. And with not a single syllable stirring the air, she took a slow, silent step forwards before letting her words echo, "It'll be more, given the proper tools," 'It'll do'? No, El Dorado will surpass his expectations if only he'd submit to it. A creator needed his tools in order to build his masterpiece. Would these two be willing to become such tools? "Are you willing to prove its magnificence?"
Magnificent...? Oh yes.
"Demon...?"
Demon? Her gaze then shifted to the black and red and white male, her eyes questioning his words. What about demons? After a mere millisecond of observing his questionative glare would Rita understand. These two seemed to be a perfect pair of dice, ready to roll and establish a bet - if only she would cast the right deal. "The light that shines here consumes any demon who dares to even think..." We, the beasts of El Dorado, destroy the immortals.
Because we can.
Mara. said:
Theta's growl solidified his placement on the island dire's mental map, rewriting white lies and a sense of space. The dark animal lifted his head, and his tail further by a few inches as the other sidled closer to him -- was that protectiveness or mistrustful threat? Maybe it could be both in some damaged, distorted way, needing company on some basic social level but rejecting it just as powerfully. At the core, Mara was a creature of scars and contradictions.
"Demon...?"
"If there's any, we'll kill them." It could be mistaken for soothing, though it was more of a coarse promise as much for himself as for the boy; Mara had no interest in overseers or doctors. They'd left that bullshit at that ruined forest. This change meant autonomy, no half-promises or compromises.
"My island... Our island?"
No sounds, strengthened or displaced air belied an approach from the unknown female, so the dark wolf listened cagily. He could never be truly certain that his mental map was accurate -- that, if nothing else, made precarious encounters far more stressful and touchy. On some level, maybe he'd hope to nudge his follower into being surrogate eyes, offering the surety that his own missing organs never could. A code? Could he trust Theta enough to step away from the paranoid possibility of the other male lying to him? The idea was there, but for now it went untouched.
"Our island."
He leaned gutturally on the word, with a twitch of the muzzle to indicate his follower. No. He'd be no simple shareholder. But tacked on --
"We're not interested in the territory disputes." This she-wolf had better not expect any level of obeisance or even subservience in general, but likewise, she'd find no competitor here. "Just sovereignty."
"It'll be more, given the proper tools, are you willing to prove its magnificence?"
Magnificence? Seriously?
"It's an island. Dead earth." Some measure of contemptuous smile dragged his mutilated lips back, an expression all teeth and dead air. "I don't see much else it could be besides food, home and solitude."
"The light that shines here consumes any demon who dares to even think..."
Whelp. Bitch was crazy.
But that was okay -- they were all a little crazy here.
Theta said:
"If there's any, we'll kill them."
Yes. He nodded in agreement, not thinking that the other couldn't see such a motion. Demons needed to die. Forest Demon's especially. They were bad bad people, ones who always hurt people just because they could. He was no priest. He didn't seek to clear the world of all that was evil, he did it only for his own security. His own paranoia driving him to it. This was a world full of demons in which he'd found a singular grounding figure; Mara. The only one to be trusted.
"My island... Our island?"
"Our island. We're not interested in the territory disputes. Just sovereignty."
Territory he understand, but sovereignty was something that had never held sway over the wild beast. He was something that only lived to a beat that was his own, one like the druids of old who worshipped the moon. Dancing covered in the blood of those they fore open in their henges. He moved only to this beat, and now it seemed Mara had joined him. Apparently they were to stake some sort of claim to not-demon-but-looked-like-demon's land. She was likely miffed about it, as was mildly clear. He ignored her though, rumbling quietly in his chest now and then whilst remaining otherwise silent. Home would be nice, he wanted one of those.
"It'll be more, given the proper tools, are you willing to prove its magnificence?"
"It's an island. Dead earth. I don't see much else it could be besides food, home and solitude."
The words made no sense, or if they did he appeared to ignore and shut them out. In the end they had no real relevance to him, not in his own mind at least. Mara of course made the most sense, broken meanings slipping through every now and then. Food, home, solitude. What else did you need from something but those three things? He could think of nothing other than protection, which was in the end what he saw Mara as. Protection.
"The light that shines here consumes any demon who dares to even think..."
With a growl off approval he moved to walk around Rita. He needed no permission, just as Mara did not. He paused only for a moment whilst making a series of soft noises and looked at Mara, sounds issued so that the other knew where he was and thus where to go. It was becoming a habit, the once silent boy chirping, grunting, growling. All so that No Eyes could find him. It was an odd sense of perception. One almost unexpected from him.
Yes. He nodded in agreement, not thinking that the other couldn't see such a motion. Demons needed to die. Forest Demon's especially. They were bad bad people, ones who always hurt people just because they could. He was no priest. He didn't seek to clear the world of all that was evil, he did it only for his own security. His own paranoia driving him to it. This was a world full of demons in which he'd found a singular grounding figure; Mara. The only one to be trusted.
"My island... Our island?"
"Our island. We're not interested in the territory disputes. Just sovereignty."
Territory he understand, but sovereignty was something that had never held sway over the wild beast. He was something that only lived to a beat that was his own, one like the druids of old who worshipped the moon. Dancing covered in the blood of those they fore open in their henges. He moved only to this beat, and now it seemed Mara had joined him. Apparently they were to stake some sort of claim to not-demon-but-looked-like-demon's land. She was likely miffed about it, as was mildly clear. He ignored her though, rumbling quietly in his chest now and then whilst remaining otherwise silent. Home would be nice, he wanted one of those.
"It'll be more, given the proper tools, are you willing to prove its magnificence?"
"It's an island. Dead earth. I don't see much else it could be besides food, home and solitude."
The words made no sense, or if they did he appeared to ignore and shut them out. In the end they had no real relevance to him, not in his own mind at least. Mara of course made the most sense, broken meanings slipping through every now and then. Food, home, solitude. What else did you need from something but those three things? He could think of nothing other than protection, which was in the end what he saw Mara as. Protection.
"The light that shines here consumes any demon who dares to even think..."
With a growl off approval he moved to walk around Rita. He needed no permission, just as Mara did not. He paused only for a moment whilst making a series of soft noises and looked at Mara, sounds issued so that the other knew where he was and thus where to go. It was becoming a habit, the once silent boy chirping, grunting, growling. All so that No Eyes could find him. It was an odd sense of perception. One almost unexpected from him.