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Post by Akante on Feb 1, 2012 1:17:50 GMT -5
OOC: All I ask of anyone joining is that they a) not hold this up, and b) do so for purely IC reasons.
It was a mysterious and often disquieting empathy she had for all that was evil, all that was hateful and insane and cruel in the massive prehistoric world, like a charmer weaving synchronized with the snakes, unafraid of even their most virulent venom, wearing their discarded skins in mute adoration. This wicked hive of poor violent men and the brutal monarchs that controlled their lives, this vulgar obscenity extreme enough to breach the almost imperceptible line that divided beauty from ugliness, and once she'd felt it call to her somehow as it grew. Cynicism had long since progressed to the black wisdom it took for her to realize it had only been belonging she reached for by coming here at all, something like the smothering wetlands full of crawling things that eyed her with undisguised hunger as a puppy, something that was barren and thriving in all the wrong ways and gorgeous in its unholy misery. Everyone grew out of that silly claptrap someday, did they not? Violence and suffering lost their glamor and their games lost forbidden spice and dice when rolled ceased to affect the stakes, villains getting weary of their rape-pillage-burn lifestyle and deigning to settle down, raise a nice family, meander to the park to feed its pigeons some stale bread. Shiva lingered around the borderline like a grayscale wraith, standing oddly erect on long thin legs, observing and waiting with a wide and depthless patience, the dissonance between intent and action so great as to be palpable. Supposed she should have been frightened. Knew there were a thousand cleverer ways to do this, that pursuing one of those could yield infinitely better results, even a success. Realized all of this in a heartbeat and decided with an eerie, somehow challenging laziness that she didn't care. Years of sentry work had awarded her to ability to pick out this little weak spot in patrol, a bruise on otherwise toughened skin, and she didn't make a wild break through it like some sad piss-soaked slave who believed their lives mattered, but rather shattered the boundary in a swift stride, eating up land without a care in the world as though she was doing nothing wrong at all. Two tiny skulls were clutched gently in her mouth, visible as she tilted her head watchfully upward; apparently the she-wolf was bringing her children along for the ride. Palla and Yane, two months old forever. There was something genuinely unsettling about this picture.
Silently the timber sat, her pelt gently soaking in the rare presence of the sun. The wolf had managed to find a spot, a single blimp on the blueprints of this pack, where the sun could break through the canopies, spawning a rather decently-sized patch of grassy greens. A soft breeze brushed up against the she-wolf's pelt, the most comforting of disruptions. Nose up to the skies, the only notion of life within this statue was the minute heaving of her torso - the calm breaths in and out. Copper eyes remained close, her paws planted firmly into the soft, waving grass. Tail curled around her rested position, caressing her forepaws as though shielding them. Despite how serene this scene may look, the Marquis could not be absorbed in this visual haven. The screeching of the forest's birds, the disgusting croaks of the toads and frogs, all these nuances shattered the precious illusion that Ru was trying so desperately to keep alive. Positioned relatively near the border, the female inhaled deeply, taking in the breezes that came from the outside world. So fresh, clean. Yet she frowned. Alteron was her home, and would continue to be so. How could the outside be deceiving her like this, trying to tempt her into death? Furrowing her brows, Brushfire opened her eyes, lowering her head to gaze outwards. Why?
Pawsteps. The rustling of twigs. The scent of someone. Near the borders. Uncomfortably close. Auds perking up, every nerve now on edge, the she-wolf stood up tall. She gazed in the general direction of the stranger, and before knowing who it was, she lifted her head briskly. A howl, a summons, echoed through the trees. Her melodious call would attract the Arms, the Sentries, and perhaps anyone else who saw her summons as something of interest. Whoever was here, at the borders, needed to be confronted. Whether it was an intruder gone too far into the territory, or a member too close to the outside for comfort, Brushfire knew she needed to be there. Eyes wide, her trail set out in front of her, she let her lithe body leap forwards, her slender legs taking long strides as she pulled herself away from the one place deemed paradise within Alteron. Her soft body pushed past the walls of thick vegetation, the stench overwhelming compared to the appeasing scents from before. Lowering her head, the Marquis quickened her pace, ensuring that she'd arrive quickly. Before anyone else dared to. If she wanted to become one of this pack, if she wanted to finally call herself one of them, she needed to physically show everyone she was. And part of that was taking on the duties assigned to her and her rank. And, as the Marquis, it was her obligation to maintain the borders. Brown paws treaded hastily on the rotting soil, the timber soon breaking through the last wall of leaves before she set her gaze on the one who ventured too far.
Eyes widened, head lifted up, Brushfire's lower jaw dropped slightly. Stutters were all that could escape her lips.
Shiva.
Swallowing after several moments of hesitation, the Sentry took delicate steps forward. Her gaze remained glued onto the other, the one who had once worked under her. This ex-Reeve, ex-Assassin... ex-Sentry. Shiva was one of Brushfire's own. Despite their occasional differences, the timber couldn't look at the other she-wolf without feeling some sort of connection. Only a few had managed to dig their way into this timber's heart. And Shiva...
Eyes lowered to the arctic-mutt's maw, noting the two tiny skulls entrapped. Flattening her auds, Brushfire lowered her head in empathy, she continued forwards, attempting to close the gap between the two. Positioning herself slightly in front of Shiva, somewhat between her and the outside, she hoped to halt the other. Stutters escaped her maw, once more. "Shiva..." What to say? The other's intentions were clear. But how could she do this? "I'm sorry..." I'm sorry for your pups, so fragile and lost. I'm sorry that I've let you fall without offering to pick you back up. But most of all, I'm sorry because, "You know I can't let you do this..." Eyes looked up at the dark mutt, as if pleading for reconsideration. This moment of privacy between the two wolves would only last so long, therefore this patience would wane completely, soon enough. Why was Shiva doing this to the Marquis? Hadn't Ru already lost enough? Claymore. Talon. Was it because of Ru's most recent doings that this sort of revenge was being sought out upon her? Tension rose in the atmosphere, and as the seconds ticked by, Ru could feel her heart pulse rising. She knew, with each passing moment, that she'd have to fight her lost comrade. She'd have to fight to keep her here.
She would not be losing one more wolf.
A growl rumbled in the small timber's throat, her brows attempting to furrow as her gaze on Shiva hardened. It was a warning, for the first few seconds. A warning for Shiva, because Ru wouldn't be able to wait much longer before offensive actions became necessary. Responsibilities had the timber tied down, and until she managed to break free from the chains, she'd obey. Her maw spread into a scowl, her muscles tensening. And before she knew it, Brushfire had leapt forwards, maw wide and eyes glaring at the grey-masked mutt. Just back down, turn around... please... Her assault was aimed for the left shoulder, hoping to snag on and keep a firm grip, whirling her body around so that she stood parallel, facing the same direction, with her fangs hopefully sunk into their targets. If she struck, she'd tug back as viciously as she could manage, giving one final, harsh tug before letting go and leaping around to reposition herself in front of Shiva.
In front of the traitor...
Interruption; a cry sounded, reverberating in the muggy air, and still the old Reeve didn't startle or panic, didn't much react at all until the source of this alarm suddenly showed up, stepping in front of her, blocking the path from A to B. Her masked face remained impassive beyond a brow that might have raised in mute skepticism had the wolf possessed these features at all, but she did halt in her tracks momentarily, one paw suspended almost delicately above the ground. Sorry, said this relic from her younger days, her vitriolic days, I'm sorry, sorry, sorry - and finally the grayscale laughed, a burst of derisive mirth that might have found voice had it not been muffled by the items she was carrying. How cute, that sympathetic gaze, how hilariously naive... She was still giggling when the sentry dove at her, not managing to hold on as planned but definitely to land a good bite in the shoulder. A sensation of weightlessness in her brain then along with the pain, of a cable snapping, something floating into a horizon; just like that, the charming courtesan was gone. Over Shiva's long muzzle broke a truly hideous grin nothing like the affable smile always coupled with that theatrical voice, the persona she'd used to engage her fellow nobles before she'd withdrawn into her bone-littered den for months and cost herself said status in the pack. Pale blue eyes gleaming and wide, hers was the face of a maniac who has for a moment in time let go of all inhibition, little wolf skulls in her mouth contorting this expression all the more horrifically. And Shiva whirled on her attempted captor like a snake, dropping those skulls at her own paws and lunging, an asylum break-out coming for its victim knife-first, jaws opening lightning-quick to slash brutally into Brush's face, a mauling retaliation that would at the very least gouge out an eye or part her from a nice chunk of her lips if it landed. She would fuck up that beautiful siren face, which likely had a lovely scream, and the pure violence against someone she'd once operated beneath and conversed pleasantly with during recruitment was startling. How much of everything this fresh traitor did and said and thought was just make-believe? You'll want to go back to your prince, sweetheart. It isn't safe here.Either way, hit or miss, she'd use the distraction to snap back (head looping down to snatch up those skulls again) and sprint for the territory's edge, shoving the maybe-bleeding wolf aside if necessary, intending to disappear into the distance and lay down some necessary distance between she and Brushfire. Even if the little whore could not catch her... she had still called for backup. There wasn't a lot of time, not anymore. Well well this was an interesting development into Collide's day as a growl ripped through the air. It was breaking her from the calling of her stomach as she was stalking a brace of rabbits in the bushes. There was little else to eat her in the land of Alteron surprisingly and while the beginning of Collide's day had been laying around for a bit as she thought over the whole situation with her and her ranking this was about to beat that in amusement. The Brute Raider knew that in her bones as the rabbits scattered before her and the wolf with shades of grey upon her pelt looked up and her ears swiveled behind her to catch the whispers of words behind her. Now now, she couldn't miss this due to the broken hearted air of the words that were being spoken. And so she took off at a healthy trot towards the noises that she heard, however what greeted her when she broke through the underbrush raised her blood. Collide grinned nastily as the Sentry was attacked by a wolf she had never seen around here. All that she could see was that the sentry, Brushfire or something like that, but was attacking the other wolf, for what reason she didn't know, but she knew the side to get on. It would all be clear in a moment as the scrape that the tri-color wolf had landed on the two tone's shoulder shook the mainly black one out of it. She took off from a dead stop then, her large paws digging into the ground, the nails leaving deep trenches as she propelled herself towards the wolf that was grabbing up skulls from the ground. Collide didn't care for a moment about the life's story between the two, rather all she cared about was the ladder of power and she knew that capturing an escapee like this would be able to get her a notch up a rung perhaps. Whatever it would do she just knew the loyalty must be shown so that it was not suspected that one believed otherwise. All a game of political tiptoe don't you know? But this was full out war. Something that she could handle without a moment's thought. The Brute Raider of Alteron was true to her rank name as she was aiming to simply bowl the mainly black and silver wolf over without a single thought. It was mindless, fighting was, but even then Collide had her teeth ready to bite down on a leg that came into reach when she hit the black and silver wolf. The aim was to hit her, but if Collide couldn't she would just as soon snap at back legs in order to begin the bloodletting and the crippling that would be needed to allow other wolves to catch up to the situation. Hopefully at least the pretty little Sentry back there would book some serious ass and get the hell over here. That much would make a whole hell of a lot of difference as to what happened. Through all this, only two words rang through the Raider's mind. War and traitor. The time was now.No longer did Swiftkill have any desire to stay hidden in these aged jungle ferns. So many opportunities for freedom passed her by, like whizzing cars on a busy freeway. Alteron was boring, Alteron was redundant, Alteron was a fraud. Great Kingdom my ass. This place was lost, just like the inhabitants that rotted slowly into the scenery. No wonder Rapier was never allowed to touch an ounce of power in the olden forests of lavender; She couldn't lead, direct, or organize if her life depended on it. And it most certainly did. So began the wandering of the ex-elite guard, shuffling closer and closer to the border's edge. And then she heard it: a twisted howl from the borderline. What could that be? An attack? An escape? While the selfish wolf would have skittered away from any attempt of being recognized or known, Swiftkill snarled with the thought that someone needed her help.So the burgundy slave broke into a full-on sprint towards the sound. She could hear snarls in the distance, and, coming onto the scene, hid herself a safe distance away to observe the situation. Brushfire, you foolish girl...lime eyes narrowed in disgust and betrayal. Hadn't she come to her in the past, seeking help, seeking redemption from the evils of this pack? How far had she fallen since then? Then ears swiveled to an impending smash to the escapee. She was at the perfect angle for the strike. Diving out of the bushes, bounding to the scene in less then a few steps, her head set in with such fury as she charged Collide. Muscles flared beneath rippling fur, eyes and tattoos glowing in the dark with such ferocity as a deep, throaty growl filled her chest and rumbled throughout the battlefield. If she impacted, it would be on the brute's side, stopping the raider from any further advancements upon Shiva. Regardless if she threw Collide to the ground as she forced her to stumble and trip to the side, the words would slip out of her mouth harshly in haste, "GO - RUN.""I WILL WARD OFF THE DEMONS FOR YOU." Not for the blackblood, not for Alteron, but for Shiva. And only you.[quote author=Sunrush[Rp] link=topic=36669.msg260820#msg260820 date=1306025676]
Ooc||
Will be acting as Scythe had lead them to Alteron's borders.
This is apart of the Swiftkill escape thread and has been approved by both alphas.
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They had finally reached it. The shadow of death...something that was forbidden, a land masked with mystery and death. A place where true fear came alive and at this very moment fear had struck her. Pae eyes glanced at the tale moss covered trees, birds chattered away. It was an uneasy feeling being in these parts. A brisk scent filling the air, choking almost. The musky stench of the borders clung to her nose, teared her eyes. Her paws pounded to a stop. The center of danger, or something close to it. Alteron. "We'll need to be quiet, or we'll be done for before we even get deeper within this rot." Her voice a low whisper as if there were creatures lurking about. For all Sun knew there could be. Lips clenched into a fine line and jaw growing taunt, the female pressed onward. Never looking back. Thoughts raced through her mind, fear starting to be pushed aside by anger. They were here, her mother was here. Swiftkill had been held prisoner here and now they were here to rescue her! I'm coming mom, hold on. "I WILL WARD OFF THE DEMONS FOR YOU."A voice! A slight panic struck and ears perked as she lowered herself against a thicket, pale eyes glancing over to her group. Motion her head for them to follow her. "Hear that?" Her voice still a low mutter, barely audible. Shifting uneasily, Sunrush peered from the grassy thicket. Managing to catch a glimpse of what seemed to be four figures. One rather large from the rest. Set apart from the group. Her pale blue eyes widen and her jaw dropped just a bit. It was her. Mother, Swiftkill. But... What was going on here? From the looks of it, she was trying to force something to the group. Yelling at another figure to run and another waited on standby. "She's there. I see her. She's....it looks like she's aiding in an escape. We've got to move, we need to help." She whispered back to them. Paws seeming locked in place before clawed at the mossy-dirt beneath her. "Our pack will remember and speak of this day of great bravery and vigilance. You all have been very brave and I would like to take this time to honor you. This won't be easy. On my word....1......2......3......-" Her voice breathless, eyes focused intently on the figures. "CHARGE!" A growl and Sun sprang from the thicket. Paws set and barreling towards the scene of wolves. Ready to bash into all and any that got in her way to save her mother. Jaws spread wide and teeth set to sink into Collide's back if Swift wasn't able to throw her, and if her mother did...well she'd just settle for trying to ram into Brushfire. We are menacing, we are strong. [/quote] [quote author=Bloodrayne [RP] link=topic=36669.msg260833#msg260833 date=1306026872] It was time. It had taken - what, days - to travel to the haggard land of Alteron, the remnants of what Rayne had remembered of her home... gone, but the thought flickered in her mind like a distant thought. She would get home - she knew she would, and they were going to bring Swiftkill back with them no matter what the cost was. With the others, Rayne crept silently through the reeds and thorn-covered brush, her yellow eyes looking out over the mucky forest like little flickers of candlelight. "We'll need to be quiet, or we'll be done for before we even get deeper within this rot." Rayne's eyes looked about, but she never moved her body. She remained in her position, body tense and ready to fight, hackles slightly raised, and black ears pointed forward in anticipation. The black and red wolf's heart was frantically beating in her chest. They had made it to their destination, and they were close to fulfilling what they wanted to do for so long... "I WILL WARD OFF THE DEMONS FOR YOU." Hawk-yellow eyes grew wider as she continued on with Sunrush and the others. Her heart skipped a beat, and why? Rayne was an assassin. She was used to such missions. But no... now she understood why - this was different. This was mission as an assassin. This was a loyal wolf trying to rescue her family with the help of others. Bloodrayne had grown up with the Coven first, but most of these wolves were second. "Hear that?" The almost inaudible voice of Sunrush filtered through the group and Bloodrayne gave a silent nod. And then they saw them. Four figures... and the biggest... it couldn't be - no, it was. It was Swiftkill from the stories she had been told over the years. And Ray was here to rescue here with the others. Her body shook with anxiousness and anticipation. But not just that - this was a fight. Two wolves against Swiftkill and another. Ray pulled back her lips in anger. "She's there. I see her. She's....it looks like she's aiding in an escape. We've got to move, we need to help. Our pack will remember and speak of this day of great bravery and vigilance. You all have been very brave and I would like to take this time to honor you. This won't be easy. On my word....1......2......3......-" Bloodrayne's body grew tenser than before, her muscles ready for this - her body - her soul ready for this. She wanted this and she would do anything to help them. "CHARGE!" And from that, just as Sunrush did, the red and black assassin lunged from the thicket, a blood-curdling snarl escaping her open maw, ivory fangs flashing in even the barely lit jungle. And as Sunrush went for Collide (if she went for Collide, if Swiftkill wasn't able to throw her), Bloodrayne lunged toward Brushfire. Bloodrayne would use her weight and lunge towards the timber, her jaws snapping. The assassin would aim, in hope, for the smaller wolf's throat. If she succeeded, she would bite down into the timber's neck, hopefully enough to break the windpipe. But if not and Brushfire dodged the attack, Rayne would hope to fasten a hold onto Brush's scruff instead with her jaws and shake her around like a ragdoll. If Sunrush charged for Brushfire instead, Bloodrayne would aim for Collide. The assassin would use her weight to try to barrel into Collide's side and knock her across the forest floor. If she succeeded with that, she would quickly look to Swiftkill and the other escapee, and as soon as she would, she would turn back to the heart of the battle. No words needed to be said to show that everyone was here for them... That was what they were for, weren't they? [/quote] ((I need to get Yellow's pass sorted out, but since I'm only playing her for this escape, I'll do this on my main. Her new player can sort that out. ~__~))
She followed the wanderings, robotic dance the easy tango she'd long since grown used to, carrying timber and Blackblood away from the epicenter of that hellish jungle. Mind was a blank slate at best, idle curiosity expended only in the guarding of the prisoner -- it was her job, after all. That job was supposed to move out past the borders soon, that much had been hesitantly accepted from the Blackblood -- a good week of weaving together a perfect little real-life inception to mindfuck the Centurion into believing that the King had planned for her to escort Swiftkill out of the premises on a mission to keep her from these alien valley wolves that would want her otherwise (and return, of course; but that implication could be broken later). Those valley wolves were wrong. BAD. They shouldn't be here. They were...outsiders. A mild frown at this, and yet -- ears lifted as Swiftkill turned and sprinted. The soldier tore after her, throat convulsing in a violent snarl, warning, DO NOT DO WHAT YOU ARE NOT SUPPOSED TO DO.The assault on Collide would only raise suspicions, the soldier quivering, every muscle rigid - eyes fixated on Swiftkill (lucky for Shiva, because this was her job and at the moment that eclipsed any random escaping wolf) with a virulent green flame, green as the Blackblood's own in this dim light, some genuine hurt perhaps amid the suspicion -- because they were supposed to go on their special mission...why would Swiftkill want to escape...? Yellow, contrary to how it could seem, was not actually stupid. Perhaps on some level, she had to know -- the signs overriding the possible confusion, escaping ex-noble and strange brightly-colored foreigners invading into the mess, yet...Stockholm's influenced both ways. "Escape?" The timber questioned harshly, muzzle snaking forward, suspicion evident and dangerously prevalent in the tone of the word. And maybe, just as likely, on some level, she wanted it to not be so. Were Swiftkill to do nothing to re-secure those lasso-ropes of security-silvertonguing, the growing alarm would throw back that scarred head in a howl, an alarm, and then whirl to aim to sink teeth into the red and black girl who'd stumbled into the chaos; even if others didn't make it here immediately to that alarm, they could certainly follow the organized escape, give those soldiers and assassins something to do -- if not, then...who knows? I have no idea what Swiftkill would do or say, so I guess that'd have to wait for next post. There was a horrible cold of anxiety creeping over the white female as the group crept towards the heated jungle. The sudden change of atmosphere did not help the knot twisting in her belly. She was afraid- who wouldn't be? Showing up in the face of the enemy, not knowing what awaited ahead. Maybe Swiftkill was hidden deep within the doom and gloom? Angel wanted to be out of here as soon as possible, but she wouldn't show it; keeping up the poker face was easy. "We'll need to be quiet, or we'll be done for before we even get deeper within this rot."And they did go deeper; the warrior trainee supressed many shudders, eyeing the flora of Alteron. Stinking and muddy, everything some dark colour. She missed the plain-ness of the desert. "I WILL WARD OFF THE DEMONS FOR YOU."Crapmuffins. As the group crept into the thicket, Angel stuck close, shoulder-to-shoulder with Bloodrayne. "Hear that?" Knowing everyone had, the white female didn't bother to answer, merely narrowing her eyes in an attempt to get a glimpse of what was happening. It was quite a ruckus, and she could smell a couple of wolves. They came closer, until she could finally see two blue-eyed greyscale figures, one grey and orange one, and then the one they were looking for, maroon giant with some grey and yellow thing next to her. She waited to see who the enemy was, particularly attentive on the one beside Swiftkill. Friend or foe? "She's there. I see her. She's....it looks like she's aiding in an escape. We've got to move, we need to help."
"Our pack will remember and speak of this day of great bravery and vigilance. You all have been very brave and I would like to take this time to honor you. This won't be easy. On my word....1......2......3......-"This was what they'd been waiting for. "CHARGE!"Feeling all that hot energy uncoiling, Angel broke cover and hesitated a mere second, eyeing Yellow before making a split-second decision and leaping at Brushfire, whether or not anyone else had gone for her yet. Propelling herself forward in few strong kicks of her legs, she pulled up as much force as she could, preparing to slam into the sentry whilst trying to grab her muzzle, ear or neck at the same time, to drive her teeth through skin while the enemy was thrown backwards by the force of her leap. Time to use those white shredders. At first there was no chance in hell Scythe would ever step foot in the forest ever again, but there was no choice. She had to lead the way for the Blackbloods to find Swiftkill who supposedly served no purpose but a prized slave. Everything was familiar, yet she felt like a ghost. Scythe hadn't been there in so long, the place was just a memory and fading. She felt odd in the situation, like something was telling her to turn back and get out, just like before. She couldn't. Not if she wanted to gain the trust back of Sunrush for what she had done. She needed to make it up to Zack too... if she could just be a hero for once. To step beyond the lines and become someone special in her life. It was a very small chance, but it was worth the try.
There was a shout, and Scythe didn't hear what those words were since she was deep in thought. The shout snapped her back into reality like flick of the finger tips.
Hear that?
Scythe followed Sunrush immediately as she came into the thick brush to see what was happening. Teal eyes tried to stretch and cream toes tried to bring the body up, but she still couldn't see much of anything. Crap. This was probably the moment, and Scythe stepped back, looking at the others. One was angry, pulling lips back to flash their weapons, ready to fight. Heart pounded loudly, and eyes looked back at the opening for a glance before peering upon the group once more. Scythe could sense their were ready. The timber mutt wasn't exactly ready, but she had to be. There was no say in this.
She's there. I see her. She's.... it looks like she's aiding in an escape. We've got to move, we need to help....Our pack will remember and speak of this day of great bravery and vigilance. You all have been very brave and I would like to take this time to honor you. This won't be easy. On my word....1......2......3......
Scythe's heart wrenched in a stop.
And then it came.
CHARGE!
In a flash they were gone, and the small timber had no idea what happened, but she bolted forward once she regained her tension. They were aimed at the ones trying to interfere with the escape, and Teal eyes met with someone she thought she'd never see again. Brushfire. She stopped for a mere second before eying Swiftkill. The one from the very tales she grew up knowing. This was all surreal.
Scythe swallowed harshly before making her way to the Ruby beast. "Swiftkill! .. Do not worry about protecting the escapee. I will lead you both out. We've come just for you.." Then eyes set one someone she hadn't seen before. Or... rather someone she was sort of familiar with, but didn't know her name. "Lets go!"
Scythe couldn't fight. Who was she kidding. The least she could do was get them out of there before fat Queen or her father decided to see what the commotion was and set their plans ablaze. They'd all be doomed. It was selfish -- wanting to live. But the timber had something to live for. Her pups, trying hard to have Zack forgive her and perhaps rise again. And maybe a home to go to. This was her time to shine. Now was the time to prove she wasn't here for Alteron's behalf, she was here for the Blackbloods who were good to her until she shattered their trust. A trust that was already cracked.
The guide would turn, holding her head back though to see if the two of them would follow, or at least Swiftkill. This needed to happen now, and fast.
[quote author=Rylen [rp] link=topic=36669.msg261181#msg261181 date=1306077470] Rylen never ventured too deep toward the borders, it would seem too dangerous to her, too far toward everything that was "outside" and while Rylen did not fear it she had forgotten it. Yes, despite being a raider of what she considered high quality she was becoming more and more unfamiliar with the outside, unwillingly trying to remember how fresh air tasted in her mouth she did for a change venture to the skirmish of the border where the air was better and the trees not as close. The heat was almost tropical at this time and the air as well but this was Alteron for you every year, every month and day every living second was breathing in the stinking air. She felt miserable in these surroundings, but that was what drew her to stay. The mental suffering of wanting to leave and be so writhing and trembling in the motions of pain was all a part of a good joke. Rylen could hardly imagine herself living outside of this place, mostly due to the fact that so many types of people, so many distinct types of pain she had yet to try in here and it was fundamentally just a question of time before she would get bored of that and search for new adventures in a different corner of Alteron. But always in Alteron. No place would ever fit her needs better, stay alive but only just staying alive, holding on to the very edge of the verbum and then once in a while letting go to fly, fly down and falling in the air. But wolves did not fly, they only fell and they fell fast and landed even harder on what would be pain the next selected word and it was the flying mid-air conscious movement of trivial forces between verb and hurt that she - truly felt alive. But it would appear that others were not as satisfied with the empire and buildup of pain. Rylen hadn't been called forth by a howl but rather the noise and the calling, the loud noises were the biggest sign however and she could not see through it. She was curious, very curious actually and she didn't waste time to come toward them to see it, to see what she was about to miss. Adrenaline bumping as she had a very good thought of what was happening here at the borders. Either someone was trespassing or someone was trying to escape and Rylen had yet to experience these things, but she was eager to. Eager to be bitten and bite back, cause some real damage to the cause of evil and pain~ She was oh so lucky as ever. Both were happening right here and now. She smiled and came in dancing to the left right as the red and yellow haired bitch came charging with five other big doggies hailing after her. Blackbloods.Rylen didn't snare or got angry but took a slight move to her own left to move aside from the charging group, her eyes fixing slightly around from member to member - Then her eyes laid upon a beast she recalled. Scythe. "Oh dear, I am afraid I can't let you go sweetie~" her voice petted for the words and nursed around them as she charged toward the dark little female, attempting to set her teeth deep within her throat. Not to kill, but to ultimately set her out of this fight and let her stay bleeding on the ground, not even able to drag herself away. If she succeeded (as unlikely as it was) she would set off toward Swiftkill. She still had business with her. IF Scythe dodged her however Rylen would move after her again and snap after her, keep her dancing and busy. Rylen would enjoy herself, laugh sweetly in the dance of death. But she wouldn't deny the little female the right to come and take a bite at Rylen, oh no not at all. She wouldn't get to keep all the fun to herself. [/quote] The planets aligned in one burst, a supernova of activity and flashing canines, ripping the universe apart as the gates of hell swung upon from the darkest depths of the infinite cosmos - - and the arch-angels blew their trumpets before vanquishing sin by draining the blood of the damned. Itak. Scythe. Angel. Another blackblood, younger, whom was unrecognizable. Perhaps more were on the way. Had Scythe brought her family here, brought them here in the attempt to rescue Swiftkill from her own personal prision? The slave - no, never a slave, always free in the end - skipped a beat in such shock that she stopped charging towards Collide completely. And stood there. Dumbfounded. Blinking with complete confusion on her face before deducting to the obvious conclusion. Yep. She was officially hallucinating. "Escape?"Yellow's voice triggered a response from the blackblood. No, no, no! Even in Yellow's own oblivious mindset, there was no way she could completely twist this situation around. Yellow, her eyes fought back tears from seeping out, you poor, dumb old guard you. The soldier need closure; the soldier also needed to be freed. No doubt she was a broken weapon, which meant her demise would be soon. She had to be saved, no matter the cost. No matter the lie. It was worth it. "YELLOW!" Swift twisted to face her friend, her enemy, and barked out an order, trying to make it as simple as possible so she wouldn't fight back, "THE MISSION. It is time for the mission." And for a second, the scarlet wolf hesitated, wavered for a second and swallowed, "You must focus only on the mission. If you stop doing your mission, just for a moment, you will be punished."A tear slid down her face, staining curly, matted cheek fur. It had to be said, had to be beaten into her head. Oh please help me..."The - the King will punish you over and over and OVER" - tears now streaming down her face, guilt wrenching her heart as she stared into the lifeless, probably terrified eyes - "AND OVER AND OVER! DO THE MISSION OR BE PUNISHED. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?"She would then snarl as she tasting salt in her cotton mouth, glaring into Yellow's eyes, green striking green like a match striking its box, "MISSION AND REWARD. NOT MISSION AND PUNISHMENT. NOW, YELLOW. NOW SOLDIER. NOW, YOU BITCH." Oh, I'm so sorry Yellow...please forgive me...oh god, oh please...I'm so, so sorry..."Swiftkill! .. Do not worry about protecting the escapee. I will lead you both out. We've come just for you.."Hackles raised sharply. Without another moment's worth, she turned, charged, lunged at Scythe in such rage that it almost looked as an attack. Mouth was twisted, contorted into a mangled mess of fangs. She would not touch the ex-Alteronian, but would glower, glow with such disgust and hatred for Scythe's words as drool seeped from her mouth onto the forest floor. The message was staggeringly clear - how dare you, you coward."Lets go!""NO SCYTHE!" She hacked, trembling, "If I don't fight for them, then who will?" And with that, she spat onto the dirt before calling out. Who was she calling? She tried to make it mocking, normal for the Alteron jungle, insulting and taunting as her voice ringed out. It sounded like Rapier - or perhaps some snotty noble - but to those in the battlefield, they would know that it was a fraud. Claymore! Get your ass over here, NOW!"Oh dear, I am afraid I can't let you go sweetie~"And then Swiftkill leaped. Her fangs aimed at that grinning muzzle of Rylen's, aimed to clench onto it and snap it until her brains leaked out. While improbable, the morbid thought was all Swift could think in such bloodlust; she wanted revenge, she wanted all these maggots to fucking die. I fucking hate you and I hate this jungle and I will rip your insides apart until you beg for the mercy you denied to the wronged.For if she could not save them, if she could not save them all, then she would rather rot in this jungle like the rest of this spineless filth. Virce had been making quick work of her freshly caught lunch when she heard the call ring out. The female paused, bloodied teeth still clamped around an equally bloody limb with her ears pricked attentively. What was this? There was some sort of alarm, a cry of concern. And from the borders no less. Interesting... Interest piqued, the red soldier rose from her laying position and dropped the mangled leg to the ground, bits of gore still clinging to her muzzle and chest. A pink tongue ran briefly over the mess, a half-hearted and subconscious attempt at cleaning the mess before she took off at a quick lope towards the signal. Was there an intruder? An attempted escape? Either one would have been a welcome source of excitement in an otherwise humdrum day. What reached her ears next was a cacophony of voices as diverse as the scents she picked up. The soldiers eyes narrowed and her pace quickened, arriving just in time to see the battle already unfolding before her. She only had mere moments to assess the mess before her. Familiar faces were blurred in close combat with those unfamiliar, those that instinct named intruder. Words flew everywhere, tainting the air just as potently as blood was bound to. Escape... mission... charge... What the hell? She spotted Scythe, the little princess standing out amongst the larger ... Blackbloods! Virce formed a vague notion of what was going on and that was all she needed in the split second it took her to launch into the madness. She wouldn't waste her breath with conversation, she'd let her teeth do the talking. The blackblood flies were swarming around Brushfire and Collide, so it was there Virce would go to even things out. The soldier charged, the fresh spilled blood of her kill sported as grisly warpaint. The element of surprise would hopefully be on her side as she made a strike for the white female (Angel). If things went as she planned, she'd strike sidelong into the white blackblood, throwing all her weight into her and aiming a bite to the side of her neck or the junction between it and the shoulder. If she hit, she'd dig her teeth in then quickly wrench her head away, seeking to pull and tear at the fur and flesh before darting back and around for another strike. If she somehow failed to meet her mark, she'd go for a crippling blow at a leg, seeking to do the same damage. If she missed entirely, she'd pursue the white blackblood, teeth bared to hit whatever or even whoever, she could get. Let this cacophonous symphony continue with her mad notes in the mix. His little hole in the jungle wasn't too far off from the insanity taking place, so naturally he had heard the snarls and howls and justifiably come to the decision that he would stay far away, thank you very much. There was no reason in the world he would opt to willingly place himself in a cluster fuck, so he settled down in his hollowed out shell and heaved a sigh. It was almost relaxing, despite the clamor, for he knew that today nobody would come to torment him—clearly they were all busy. He rested with few cares for a while, eyes slipping shut even as he listened to the roars and screams, just in case they decided to come his way and he needed to clear out. Fortunately that didn't occur—though after several howls—help, help, shit, who the hell cares—another came that caused his eyes to slowly open. His good ear flicked and stiffened, weary legs gradually pushing him up into a sit. That howl, tainted and impure, twisted into a mockery and by one who didn't truly understand how things worked here—Swiftkill. Furthermore... it had pulled at him. She was calling him. What the hell for? And, it had come from the source of all the racket... He sighed. He had to take solace in knowing that the slave wouldn't call him for a piss poor reason. She wouldn't call him to beat on him. She wouldn't call him to kill him. He'd done nothing to her—whatever she wanted... maybe... maybe it was important. His snout wrinkled and he looked down at his paws, internally weighing the consequences. Chances were, he was heading into Hell and would soon find his intestines viewable. Being disemboweled was hardly a charming prospect. Perhaps he could come near, simply... see what all the hubbub was about. Then he would decide whether or not it was worth risking his life over, right? Some might have called him a coward, but he called it being rational and wise. Two qualities so many seemed to lack, if the volume of the voices was anything to judge by. So the broken knight stood, shook out his dull pelt, and began loping towards the border. Things were about to get real exciting, so he took the few fleeting moments to enjoy the peace—perhaps the last peace he would have. He didn't have a death wish, but he couldn't truly live in this jungle, either. It was a double edged blade, and he had long since grown weary of the persistent twilight. Still, it was the only home he'd ever known—even if it had become infinitely less welcoming as those who had been his friends withered and disappeared. He paused once he was near enough, creeping along like a wraith. He had never been good at much, but keeping out of sight was his specialty. It was, perhaps, the only reason he was still alive in the first place—an ability to fly under the radar. Squinting, he settled among the foliage and turned towards the sound, eyes focusing on... well, yep, a cluster fuck, just like he'd thought. It took a moment to discern what was happening at the border, yet once he had, his pulse picked up. Those... those were blackbloods, come to take back their leader, no doubt... really, it was about time. But why... why would Swiftkill call him? Surely she had no sympathy or interest in his welfare? That's when he saw her, amidst the maelstrom, and in that instant time seemed to freeze. Scythe. Even his heart seemed to stop, breath caught in his throat. When everything resumed, he sucked in a gasping breath, rising from the underbrush like a being possessed. Scythe. His one true love in this god-forsaken life, the one he'd risked his everything for... and she was here... alive. Why the hell would she come back here? After everything? After what he'd done to make sure she would be able to live her life? After all the sacrifices and the hurt? Without even realizing it, he'd begun to move, drifting towards her like a heat-seeking missile. He was only briefly aware of the battle taking place around him, of the blackbloods that piled onto Brushfire, who he still viewed as a friend—she knew what had happened, and she had said she'd help him escape. He wasn't worried. He didn't even think about it. All he wanted was Scythe. His sister. Something threatened her, and his steely eyes snapped to Rylen as if he were changing his sights. He wasn't trained well for this. He wasn't a being of warfare. But his bond with Scythe was unbreakable, and the raider attempted to get between him and her—so without a sound his pace picked up, and he launched at Rylen as she launched at Scythe, fangs flashing and aiming to sink into her hind leg. He didn't know much, but he knew enough from watching hunts and attempting it on his own that this could possibly slow her down. He wouldn't hold on long even if he succeeded, just long enough to unsettle her before he dashed past, fur brushing against his sister's as he did. He had not come this far for nothing. He had not done everything for her to see her back here, to watch her get pulled back down into the shadowy depths of Alteron. He had protected her all this time, he had ensured her safety—he didn't regret it. Scythe, I would do it all again. I would do it all for you.He whispered against her ear, almost soundlessly, " What are you doing here? Go!" The Gamma had hung back for a few heartbeats, entering in after the other members of the rescue party; there was no vague fear that some strapping young buck of a wolf would insult his courage and fortitude (he was here, was he not?) but only that he might be too late. Strategy mattered more than appearance; even as a younger member or two charged in along with his sister, Bloodclot skirted the 'arena', sky-blue eyes shining fiercely in the dim light, ensuring above all else -- that they had a route of unobstructed escape. The powerful Blackblood would streak around and into the chaos in time to see his sister -- his mother -- no time to stop, no time to freeze, function over heart-wrenching recognition, no words spared but path set to assault the she-wolf attacking his younger-cousin-by-a-few-generations, weight aimed to try and bodyslam into Virce -- to knock her off her course, stagger her, thousands of years before anyone could shove the barrel of a gun aside but nevertheless holding some kin to that defense. Pupils contracted and brow rippled with the adrenaline rush, the fury of seeing someone try to hurt his kin -- and that was why the guard had come, wasn't it? It was because Sunrush asked, it was because he wanted to demand answers from his mother, protect his sister, keep everyone safe -- but what it boiled down to was family.Jaws would slash forward twice more: once for Virce's eyes, then a swift recoil and lunge to try and grab her jaws and HOLD ON, incapacitate the Alteronian wolf long enough for an ally to seize the opportunity. Or at least for Angel to escape out of harm's way.
((Ninja'd. Doesn't really affect Shiva, though? >>;  ) Hell broke loose in the next few moments and it would have been a blatant lie even in all her charisma if the grayscale wraith had said she'd seen it coming. A shout had commenced it, a demand so low and loud it was almost a roar, and this was urgent to a wild animal in combat, snapping that frigid gaze toward their source and a fraction of time later forcing her body into a mad lunge away from the raider who had crept upon her without her knowledge, using her attack on Brushfire as cover. Panting briefly, Shiva was momentarily puzzled at her own unusual inattention and much too serene with the knowledge that Collide's tackle could have ended very badly for her indeed if not for Swiftkill's intervention. She was a cunning devil, a FAST devil, but cunning and fast sometimes did not matter when one was being accosted and outnumbered so viciously. And then because this situation clearly wasn't bizarre enough, out of the great beyond exploded titans, giant wolves whose underbellies her angled shoulders would only graze, who came for her attempted captors (or murderers) and took them by storm, their powerful rush focused and determined. Considering the sentry and the raider were overwhelmed by these massive bodies, perhaps Shiva would be allowed the clearance to stumble freely back, eyes narrowing and muscles quivering with exertion, with... a question, briefly visible flickering in the static ice-blue? Why would you do that?The answer came in a shutterclick of cold logic; her ragged gray fur, the crazed look on her face, the thin frame of her body... she looked exactly like an escaping prisoner of this wicked hive, didn't she? It was all she could do not to resume laughing at the grand fortune of it all, but Shiva played it up instead, casting Swiftkill a pretend worried face as if to say but what about you, I don't want to leave you here alone, except she totally would, greedily using this distraction to her advantage as Collide had used her own for hers. The forest of Alteron may have steadily ate itself, but it was nothing compared to its lupine denizens, who would have brutalized each other for a buck-fifty if possible. The chaos raged on, and those same eyes which had once asked a question to her savior now glimmered in genuine love of its beauty, appreciation creepy in its sincerity. But she was above this game now, this game with rules penned by morons, this game with ONLY rules and no way to win or even to play at all. Stagnant and vapid; the she-wolf would find her mad harlequin's amusement elsewhere. Shiva broke into her run again; she would not notice until it was too late that she'd dropped Yane, his little skull landing on the fertile soil and resting forgotten. Nobody was coming after her, all beset by or simply busy assaulting these rampaging blackbloods, and so it should be no real issue to reach the territory's edge and cross it in a bound, this ex-Reeve who was a living goldmine of valuable information on their kingdom, a huge liability they were allowing to fly right out the window, a capricious creature who might very easily spill it to a third party for shits and giggles. Bringing up the rear was a brown male who launched himself through the undergrowth with power, a grey form blitzing past him heading back towards the borders. He locked golden eyes on her briefly, but noted how she didn't lunge for him, merely away from the fight. Had she been going the other way, for help, the Guard would have attempted to catch and slam her to the ground, but for now, he left her alone, on the tail of his uncle as he too finally engaged. His uncle had made sure they hadn't all launched into a trap, and Glory had lingered at his side though he longed to be shoulder to shoulder with his mother... And then he saw her...someone he only vaguely remembered as a pup. Swiftkill!Everyone was fighting someone, everyone focused on another and locked tooth and nail with one another, and a grey form that met Scythe in the midst of it all, mouth moving as words were exchanged, and he charged forward, snapping at Rylen as she aimed fangs at their guide. True, they had found Swiftkill. True, she wasn't needed anymore. But it was simply wrong to leave her to the demons of Alteron when it obviously had terrified her to return here. The Alteronian grey, however, as well as Swiftkill rounded on the other female, and so he skirted that battle with quick paws and ended up launching himself toward Bloodrayne where she was taking on Collide, and he sought to sink teeth into her tail to grab and thrash, shaking head from side to side if he managed to grab it. If not, he'd try to slam his body into the other, attempting to knock the breath from the girl, battering her senseless, teeth at the ready. He snarled, bristled up and as angry looking as he'd ever been. Bloodrayne was family, adopted in, but family still...his cousin. And as the youngest of them, no matter how well trained she might have been, he wasn't about to let her fend for herself when he was perfectly capable of standing beside her in battle. [[ >> So much for last night's thought of 'I can wait until tomorrow after work to post, it shouldn't get too bad'... lol right. xD]] Sky blue eyes over black tattoos peered out from beneath a layer of mud and muck. It was habit by now, that before entering enemy territory or near an assassination target, that the azure assassin would cover that bright blue fur in a thick camouflage of dirt and grime. The brightness of his coat was a liability, and one that he had by far learned to overcome. Soon after Scythe had signaled they were nearing Alteron's borders, the Delta had paused for only a second to roll in boggy layer of mud. Perhaps Nightfrost then looked to be the odd one out in a pack of pristine wolves, filthy and muddy (and probably a tad smelly too, but the scent of wet clay was nothing out of the ordinary, until it came from a creature), but he did not care. What mattered now was the mission- to save Swiftkill by any means necessary. When Sunrush had given the command to charge, Nightfrost had not hesitated, but instead of darting straight into the battle like a warrior, the Delta gave way to assassination routine. Paws moved quick as a viper strike, despite his size, quickly circling around the fighting wolves and aiming towards the actual objective of this mission. Soon he was no longer running in from outside the borders, but charging outward from his new position. Mud sprayed as the large hybrid barreled into the fray, uncaring if he knocked any of the enemy fighters as he rammed forward, quickly approaching the epicenter. Scythe seemed to be yelling at Swiftkill to run amidst the chaos and blood and snarls, but the red and grey blackblood with eyes like green acid snarled a passionate reply. "NO SCYTHE! If I don't fight for them, then who will?"Tension and frustration mounted at her refusal. They came all this way for her to refuse to come? But no, that wasn't exactly it, so instead Night aimed to butt his head against Swift's rear with an urgently snarled, "Then we'll take them with us, but we need to MOVE! NOW!" Before the rest of Alteron heeded the raised alarm and swarmed on the party of fighting wolves like a hornets nest. |
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Post by Akante on Feb 1, 2012 1:21:09 GMT -5
[[i'm hoping i reacted to everyone who attacked brushfire... correct me if i missed someone~]]
Shiva was... different.
Something had managed to take over what Brushfire had once known to be this she-wolf. Nothing changed as words were spoken by the Marquis. Not even the slightest flinch in the other's face, no sign that the timber could interpret as true thought. Only laughter, unnerving, burst through the escapee's maw, and Ru could only wince. What was so funny about this situation? And so she charged, ready and aiming to strike at the ex-Reeve's shoulder. Fangs met flesh, though she failed to hang on as tightly as she had expected. Ripping through the skin, shedding not nearly enough blood to deter the traitor, Brushfire swung around with more force than she had planned. Catching her balance, eyes glaring ahead towards Shiva, she barely had enough time to register that a counter-attack had been launched. Ducking, with just enough speed to ensure that those deadly jaws grazed just above her eye, Brushfire tumbled to the ground and rolled. Eyes searched for and met up with Shiva, just as she was picking up her pups' skulls and darting off into the distance. No.
From the corner of her eye, the Marquis could see a grayscale figure sprinting into the scene, and it only took a mere second for her to realize that at least some backup had arrived. Picking herself up off the ground, the timber sprinted towards Shiva, knowing that every second that passed by meant she was closer and closer to succeeded in her escape. Having come so far, after proving herself to her monarchy, Brushfire wasn't going to let everything crumble beneath her with her responsibilities as Marquis. But, almost instantly, a maroon figure barreled past the small she-wolf, cutting her off and nearly setting her up to tumble and fall. Copper eyes gazed over, her legs still sprinting towards Shiva, and the identity of the Blackblood was confirmed. Swiftkill. Oh no. Two escapees. Only two to stop them. And with the statistics added up, Brushfire and this grayscale Alteronian were greatly outmatched. A growl rumbled in the Sentry's throat, hoping that such an act would empower her - awaken those feral fighting instincts that lay dormant inside of her. Knowing that it was more important to keep Swiftkill contained than Shiva, Ru skidded and launched herself over to the maroon Blackblood. Paws outstretched, aiming to grab a hold of the Slave on her lower back, near her rear. If successful, she'd aim to clamp her jaws shut in her flesh, near the spine, and throw her head from side to side. Her lower legs would attempt to claw and kick at Swiftkill's hind legs. Anything to halt her. Anything to hold her back. Words were blasted from the tattooed wolf's maw, but they were all a buzz to the Marquis. This fight, so surreal and confusing, was played out as though some unknown force were in control of Ru's body. Everything was so... different.
"CHARGE!"
Eyes widened and auds stood tall. Suddenly she could hear the thundering paws of wolves, large wolves. And lots of them. Shock caused the she-wolf to let go, only to see a hoard of Blackbloods diving into the scene. Attempting to send another howl into the air, calling for more backup, her call was cut short as she leapt to the side, dodging the charge of the Blackblood who seemed to be in charge. Panting, head turning frantically in attempts to assess the current situation, her eyes met those of a red and black she-wolf, whose deadly jaws took aim at the Marquis. Ducking, once again, the timber she-wolf tried to quickly slither away, only to feel the sharp, piercing pain of fangs digging in right between her shoulders. A cry, a loud, shrieking yelp, echoed through the trees as Ru felt her body being shaken violently, her legs and body curled up for the majority of it. By the third thrash, she jerked limbs out, hopefully throwing the assault off-balance and yanking her flesh free from this Blackblood bitch. If she was successful, with blood streaming down through her otherwise pristine pelt, the she-wolf darted off a few paces, whirling herself around to face her opponent. One of the many that now surrounded her and the Raider. Her heart pounded, her chest heaved. Everything, it was so impossible.
And another assault. Turning to face the other Blackblood, this one white, Brushfire snarled viciously - a sensation she'd been unable to feel in so long. She leapt to the side, whirling around and snapping her jaws in the general direction of the bitch that tried to attack her. Was she purposely trying to land an attack on the white Blackblood? No. She tried to keep herself as far as possible on the dodge, backing herself up and as far away as she could from a possible counter attack. It was then, in mid-turn that her blazing eyes saw someone she'd never think to see again. Scythe. Had she returned home? Or maybe Claymore had lied... and she'd never left. "SCYTHE!" Help me!
"... We've come just for you... Let's go!" Eyes widened. No... no. A single second ticked by, and no sound came to the Marquis's auds. Was she truly alone in this fight? Sure, the Raider was here, but ever since her initial entrance, Ru hadn't seen her. A flash, and Brushfire could see another one of Alteron. Rylen. The Raider went straight for Scythe, and the timber wasted no time in setting out for the next wolf she could find. And, lo and behold, her eyes rested upon the star of this phenomenon. Glaring at the maroon Blackblood, Brushfire charged, slipping in and out of the gather of wolves until she made her way to the escapee.
"The - the King will punish you over and over and OVER. AND OVER AND OVER! DO THE MISSION OR BE PUNISHED. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?"
Growls ripped through the Marquis's jaws, tears streaming down her bloodied face. How could this be happening? Why was it happening to her? How could she possibly handle this? Eyes searched for the target of Swiftkill's words, and found Yellow. A Soldier. Confusion overwhelmed the creature, and, not taking the change of letting Swiftkill's words sink in, she'd scream, "YELLOW! Does the King allow his members to ESCAPE? To LEAVE? Fight now, fight here! Keep the prisoner HERE! The King will reward you! If you let them leave, he WILL PUNISH YOU!" At that she hurled herself at Swiftkill, "NOW, YELLOW! NOW!" Don't let there be one more traitor in the mix. Coming around from the back, jaws aimed for the tattooed bitch's nape, the lithe Marquis allowed her tiny frame to launch through the air, aiming to land square on the Blackblood's back. Assuming she struck, she'd let her tiny body, in comparison to her opponent's, plant itself firmly. Claws would try to dig in as far as they could, jaws snagging into the nape, yanking and pulling and hoping to draw blood. Tear flesh. Do something. Even if Swiftkill tried to snap back, which would be difficult at this angle, Ru would not let go. The confusion, the uncertainty, and even the desperation, it all tumbled together to fuel her. To keep her ignited through this fight. Should her initial strike miss, she'd spin her body around in mid-air, keeping her tail away from being snagged. She'd attempt to charge the Blackblood again, and again, and again. She jaws snap or body charge, the Marquis would merely use her light frame and agile legs to dance around it, hoping that sooner or later one of her assaults would land. And she would bite. And claw. Do whatever damage she could.
At this moment, Ru could only hope for a miracle. She knew that she would not be getting out of this, at least not with Swiftkill. She knew the inevitability of the wolves' escape. All she could hope was that the backup she'd called for would arrive soon enough. And so Ru would do whatever she could to stall this escape. She'd endure whatever she had to in order to keep them here just a few seconds longer. Inside, she whined. Cried. Why did these tests, so cruel and inhumane, always have to be dealt to her?
Collide was shocked by the sudden roar, but she didn't let it stall her for more than a few half seconds as she kept barreling towards Shiva. She was almost oblivious towards Swiftkill and so when the blackblood had stopped she had been thankful of that. That much she had been lucky for, however, when the rest started pouring in all she did was pour on the speed. This would give her time to get away she calculated and while that had been a good ide ashe was not even strategizing when she had unleashed the speed that was in her muscles. This was becoming a clusterfuck of attacks and attempts against her for even being in the vicinity of that damn slave. In any rate she didn't care, she knew that she couldn't take on all of these blackbloods so her quarry was not Swiftkill, but rather the escaping Shiva. One target at a time she told herself. The attack by Sunrush missed because of the explosive burst of speed and so because Sunrush had attacked her but missed and so Brushfire was the blackblood outlands alpha's target. And for that Collide was insanely thankful as she raced on by. This was not going to allow her to get out unscathed she knew but she had to focus. Still not her quarry she religiously spoke into her mind. Collide wasn't going to stop for any of this. Let the other Alteronians deal with the damn blackbloods, she was going to go after the quarry that she knew she could get. That was Shiva. Over and over in her mind she repeated this even as the next blackblood lined up to take a chunk of fur out of her tail. And that's all he got. A bite down on the end of her bushy tail which caused many fur pieces to be ripped out of the end. Pain rocketed up her nerves, but she didn't slow for more than a moment to grimace before continuing at a breakneck speed. There, finally out of the fray of blackbloods. So with that realization Collide put on even more speed. She wasn't a raider for nothing. Barreling across the ground towards the ex-Reeve with more speed than she'd been using before. The blackbloods should have been worried about the precious Swiftkill and so Collide would likely be over looked. She wasn't keeping that damned maroon failure so she wasn't supposed to be a target. She had never stopped running and so she should have been right on top of the black and silver wolf without a problem. The time that the ex-Reeve had taken to stand there would have been her downfall hopefully thought the Brute Raider as her right front paw crushed the little skull under her weight. She was going to tackle straight into the black and silver wolf if she got the ability to do so. Or if she missed that then she would work to get her jaws around some part of that traitor. She was going to get Shiva. That was her only goal here. Single-minded yes, stupid, no. She wasn't going to die over the life of a slave. [dodged sunrush completely and some tail fur yanked out by morning glory. never stopped running towards shiva for more than a half second and is attempting to tackle into her or at least get her jaws on some portion of shiva. therefore completely ignoring the blackblood issue.] [quote author=Bloodrayne [RP] link=topic=36669.msg261799#msg261799 date=1306149986] And her jaws closed shut in an iron lock around the muscle and fur of Brushfire's scruff. The blood-chilling cry from the Alteron sentry only made the red and black assassin grin as she shook the timber's body around like a toy. But, by the third wrenching shake, the little timber sprayed out her limbs and that little movement helped dislodge the hold that the red and black assassin held. Replacing her jerk, almost a violent jerk, the timber fell from Ray's grip and skirted away. The assassin, with the timber's metallic blood dripping from her jowls, pulled back her lips once again and, with red-pink tongue lapping over blood-stained teeth, snarled toward her smaller opponent, the snarl echoing off the surrounding trees that could rattle even bone. Her yellow eyes were narrowed on Brushfire, her black ears perked straight, tail erect, and body stance similar to that of a snake about to strike. The Alteron timber, with blood dripping down her coat, had run after Swiftkill in the other group after dodging an attack made by Angel. The timber had cried something to Scythe and Ray glared at the rusty brown and white female through the corner of her heated eyes. But what did she care about this now? Again, without hesitation, Bloodrayne charged into the fires of battle, her opponent still the same - the timber with the bloodied face and tear-soaked cheeks. Just as Brushfire jumped into the air, so did Bloodrayne, in hopes she would knock the little timber straight out of the air. If it worked and the two fell to the ground, Brushfire first, Bloodrayne would snap her jaws down in hope to grasp a hold on the timber's neck. If she made it, she would bite down with an iron hold until she could hear bones cracking under her grip. She wanted this timber to suffocate, or her neck to snap. She preferred either. As an assassin, she was taught to never let anything out alive in a mission. And damn, she would not. [/quote] It was only by the grace of luck (and maybe proximity to Swiftkill without assaulting the red Blackblood?) that kept the cavalry from attacking Yellow, surely; it could have easily upset that tenuous question posed to the red dire, dashing the precarious house of cards that Swiftkill had built in the thought-maze of the loyal soldier. "YELLOW! THE MISSION. It is time for the mission."Those vacuous green eyes, questioning, perhaps jaws even parted, slender triangular ears tipping forward -- mission...? Their mission, now? But why so chaotic? Why so many? What was this other wolf doing, this 'escaping?' creature, everyone acting so -- so irrational -- the sheer amount of action a blocker for the Centurion's logic, brain stuttering over the conclusions logical and illogical and she hesitated -- at the same time as Swiftkill, almost in unison with the captive, the soldier, the she-wolf stood torn and divided. What was there to do, what was GOOD? WHAT WAS-- "You must focus only on the mission. If you stop doing your mission, just for a moment, you will be punished."The first part clear, second almost muddled and mottled into the background and white noise but PUNISHED stood out like red, like orange, some bastard fire-child white-hot and loaded with connotations in-between the letters, it made her nauseous and cramped her stomach, tendrils of some always-present fear snaking through psyche and body, somatic effect with the stress evident from the growing tension in body and features, taut around the eyes but body stilled, too still "The - the King will punish you over and over and OVER--AND OVER AND OVER! DO THE MISSION OR BE PUNISHED. DO YOU UNDERSTAND? MISSION AND REWARD. NOT MISSION AND PUNISHMENT. NOW, YELLOW. NOW SOLDIER. NOW, YOU BITCH."and the others here all had their little dramas to play out and motivations to fulfill, neglected sons and glory-hound children and loyal daughters, loyal sentries but Yellow was unaware of them because the words were a whipan echo to some other time, some BEFORE that had been lost in the fog, senseless overreaction the progeny of repressed and forgotten memories that Swiftkill did not know, could not relate to, memories that had been broken but left remnants in the halls of the feral mind like a shank broken off on the inside in the flesh OVER AND OVERface contorting, jaws emitting only some horrible, strangled whimper, begging as much as reacting, please no-no-no don't, no more pain, PLEASE--, jerking back as if to dodge some punishing jaw -- and maybe here lay some rarely-seen root to that oddity of persona, a revelation that could be better appreciated in other circumstances. Maybe this was what had turned wolf to machine, because storms only break reeds that cannot bend, tie the reeds down AND THEY'LL NEVER SNAP--and in that white-hot fear she simply ceased to think, and moved to follow. Following was safe. Thinking was dangerous. Swiftkill was familiar, and the word would be followed, because she could not figure out whose word to follow anymore. It was a regression to the purest state, wiping away those seeds of individual thought an analysis that had begun to sprout even in the limited confines of the bottled mind. A terrible snarl at Nightfrost as he lunged to butt towards Swiftkill, timber-wolf's jaws stayed only from assault because his own never opened; and somewhere else, Brushfire was screaming at Yellow but they were only words and Brushfire no longer existed. Too late, too late; that semi-sophisticated system was gone in the soldier's mind, razed clean, Swiftkill's threat mirrored to old hurts and fusing in some nuclear explosion of demand, terror the radiation. Assault on Swiftkill -- in the blink of an eye the timber was streaking forward, a patterned arrow homing towards the Sentry. Yellow would attack Brushfire in a frenzy-- those jaws snapping everywhere, body used as a 'weapon', a blocker, with little regard to personal safety because 'Yellow' did not exist, there was only PUNISHMENT and the action needed to stay afloat, to create some illusion of control, those jaws at some point in that frenzy striking down towards a foreleg to slam jaws down on it and WRENCH IT; be a GOOD SOLDIER but GOOD SOLDIER was no longer the same, Scimitar was gone and had been gone in her world for a long time, as had Afzhal, as had Old Master -- there had been some paradigm shift, in a memory that consisted only of Swiftkill, a reset button triggering confusion on who was the one to please. Perhaps it could seem as if she were attacking Bloodrayne, had one not seen her streak towards Brushfire a heartbeat before the other wolf; for the Centurion's sake, hopefully they had. Bloodrayne was fellow soldier, aid and not enemy, because Brushfire was THE ENEMY, not for any personal fault but because she was attacking the one giving orders and to defy the one giving orders was too dangerous to comprehend. The growl pitiful, the lunge puny - - yet Swiftkill would not fight back. For she knew the tricolored female had the chance of redemption; she knew that Brushfire wasn't like one of them, she couldn't be. Brushfire's teeth would grab hold of her shoulder, digging in and shaking - but only hardened green eyes would beam back. How far have you fallen, my angel? Soft, comforting, like a mother watching her child steal from the cookie jar. Not a whimper, not even a wince of pain - while it did hurt, one must remember that the blackblood was an ex-captain and one of the best fighters and strategists ever produced from the elite guard - A ghostly whisper, still staring, shameful and hurt, "Ru..." a pause, light kiss to the air, "You are not one of them. Don't do this; don't be a fool." A breathless stop, when she smiled, yes, smiled, ever-so-warmly as her gaze softened with such integrity and hope like a sunburst ray, gleaming - "You are better then this. I believe in you." Don't lose sight of who you are. Don't forget - DON'T YOU DARE FORGETWhether the message was delivered to the sentry or not, when she let go and the raize to both Collide and Brushfire began, the words would slip out to Yellow, and then to Scythe. Swiftkill would only let the lost toy soldier run her course: there was nothing that could be done to protect anyone from her. Swift just prayed, prayed that Yellow didn't attack one of the blackblooded warriors. That would be quite unfortunate. Then she'd observe Claymore's entrance to the scene - yes, everyone is here - I'm almost done. Almost.Now, to ensure the safety of her kin and the escapees. "Then we'll take them with us, but we need to MOVE! NOW!"Fangs would bare itself at the assassin, and she would get close to his face. Too close, too close for comfort, like a drill seargant, growling but with wet eyes, (whether or not she had succeeded in biting Rylen's face was irrelevant). "I can take care of myself, Mudface," way to go Swiftkill, your tact knows no bounds, "But I'm afraid, they" - a gesture to Scythe and Claymore - "cannot. So here is your new mission, boy - you get them out - all of them." No casualties would go under her name tonight. A grin, almost a bit too loose around the edges. "Or we all die. Right here, right now."She'll let him think on that one for a bit. A glance up to Shiva's predicament. Collide was gaining on the poor woman, and - oh no - she dropped a skull onto the ground in the midst of all the chaos. And Collide was on the path to crush it. Cracking out of her chest like fresh bone snapping, roar full of pumping boiling blood bubbling over the pot, enraged with liquid fire pouring out of her flesh wound - I WILL NOT LOSE ANYONE HERE TONIGHT I WILL NOT - the ex-slave ripped off the ground and tore across the battlefield, stained with tears, sweat, and blood splattered, an art student's failed attempt at abstract work. Collide may have been FAST, but Swiftkill was FASTER.Swiftkill was pissed. Her eyes zeroed in, a fighter jet with a sniper on the side, perfect aim and precision at the target and planning each slight change in direction to be accurate. Only one shot, only one shot, and she took it.Bullet shoot across, mouth fully exposed to find a mess of twine teeth swiftly trying to tear open Collide's hocks in a single snap of the jaws. If she did indeed succeed, tendons and small bones could shred like wet paper, knocking the raider to the ground and separating all muscle control from the brain. The grey beast could tumble, fall like a marionette losing string power, collapsing in a heap of fur and hindering her useless and out of the game. Even if ripping, not grabbing, ripping any part of her back legs, Collide could no longer be able to participate. If she were to avoid the attack, she could still loose, however. Swiftkill was right behind the raider. Logically, unless she wanted to be bulldozed over by four feet of lean, compacted muscle and bone, which could still result into her still falling to kiss the earth, she would have to dodge or change her course. However, if Collide were to do such a thing, she'd move farther away from the target Shiva, which could most likely end up with the wraith slipping across the borders. Either way, her steadfast running was her ultimate doom in the end. Checkmate.But did the speeding bolt of light stop then? Could she simply stop then? Of course not. This was Swiftkill, leader of the blackbloods, Captain of the Elite Guard, Ex-Alpha of The Outlands! To stop was not in her vocabulary, it seemed. Regardless of Collide's counterattack, she would speed past the raider, mocking, reverent, before scooping up the little dropped baby skull before veering to the side at the border's edge. She now stood, raised above everyone, on a slight hill with roots curling around her feet. Green acid flickered back and forth at the commotion below, the fighting, the bloodshed, always about her, never could these goddamn outland warriors leave her at peace to her own demise. A toothy grin with a wink to the crowd. "YELLOW!" A bark, muffled slightly, "Let's go."[bleh, shitty]
NO SCYTHE! If I don't fight for them, then who will?
Scythe growled at her. What the hell was she doing? Being a hero no doubt. As old as she was, she was a feisty little bitch. "You're a fool! They're fighting for you to get your ass out of here! Are you gonna let their battles go in vain?!" Teal eyes rolled as her body went forward again. She had ignored the voice Brushfire had spit out at her.
Oh dear, I am afraid I can't let you go sweetie~
Eyes widened as she saw the light and dark female now standing guard in front of her. Shit. What now. Scythe was shaking bad, her limbs uncontrollably jittering from the amount of adrenaline that was shooting through her body now. Her heart was about to explode! A flash of fangs came at her and Scythe immediately ran the other direction, back into the chaos. Ruby coat shot past her and toward the other wolf. Blurred tunnel vision caused Scythe not to see much of anything until a tree hit her in the face.
The timber shook her head to try to remove the pain and grasp what was going on once again. Chaos still, the snarls and shouts, the screaming and the smell of blood. It made her sick. That was until a familiar scent hit her face like a ton of bricks. "Brother?" Orbs moved quickly, snatching Claymore's figure toward Rylen where he attempted to make a blow on her with Swiftkill. A smile came to her face, and she almost wanted to cry. But now was not the time, Scythe. There was much to do still, and they were in danger.
Claymore then came her way, feeling the fur brushing against her. Scythe was in a trance now, feeling safe again and that the world was right. Had to be.
What are you doing here? Go!
The sister growled at him. "No! I've come to far to turn back now. I'm getting you, Swiftkill, every and anyone else out of here! I have to set things right with the Blackbloods again... I have to repay them..." Scythe moved back to look in Claymore's eyes. "Help me, brother. It's your time now."
Scythe saw Shiva start to run for it, and she almost went after the ex-Reeve, but there was more work to do. She still needed to convince Swiftkill to move her ass out. Not even Nightfrost could get her to boot. She watched as Swiftkill darted for Collide with such determination. That was it. The opening. Brushfire was already ganged up on, and Rylen (assuming) was a little damaged. Only four though, against a group of blackbloods. Just showed how weak Alteron had become. Not even a long-term sentry could fight them off. Pathetic. She wondered what the outcome would be if Rapier and Swiftkill had actually battled their differences out. Who would become victorious?
Scythe would follow Swiftkill, darting around to that point. She had noticed a figure named Yellow, who went for Ru. Didn't matter who the figure was, but Swiftkill had faith in the creature, so she did too. There were four of them to save, and the timber would make sure they, and the Blackbloods were lead out safely. "Swiftkill, we have to do this quickly. I don't want anyone else getting hurt and I don't want more of them coming. Then we'll really be in trouble. So please.."
A plea.
[Ignore anything concerning the tail. Not changing a finished RP post.]
Weeks of never-ending solitude had comforted the midnight soldier, shadows upon shadows encasing her in Alteron's deep folds. Her trophy, such a beautiful thing, was rotting away. Stench of death and the Traitor's long-ago scent mingled on her breath, her face. Second skin. Her constant companion in the dark and wet. Bones still attached by clinging fur and dried skin littered about her nest. Black paws pulled them together, nestled comfortably into her chest. "Poor poor Cue-tail. You need companions...fleshy maggots make good snacks." Harsh and loving, almost. Whispered. Her toy was breaking, but it had served it's purpose.
Zodiac had been hidden from Alteron's denizens for her solitude, the creeping shadow of their worst nightmare. Boring, unneeded. No longer. Sounds reached those velvety ears, soothing to hear if not concerning. Intrusion. What rabbit had crept down Alice's hole into the Queen's lair? Hrmmm, rather, rabbits. Rabbits.. What the hell was going on, to disturb her so from her from her self-induced daze? An opportunity was something the black beast would hate to miss. On your four, Soldier.
Rotting fur and bone lay forgotten as shadows grew larger and then moved, heading toward the ruckus with near-savage intent. There were only two possibilities for the chaos coming from this direction. First. Idiotic as it would seem, someone was trying to force their way into the ranks of the rotting jungle. Unlikely, this gathering was huge. No one was stupid enough to launch an attack...escape. Every wolf that called the temperate jungle their home knew of the black stench that hid in it's recesses, guarded closely. Or maybe not so closely. The blackblooded wolf was trying to escape.
"YELLOW! Does the King allow his members to ESCAPE? To LEAVE? Fight now, fight here! Keep the prisoner HERE! The King will reward you! If you let them leave, he WILL PUNISH YOU! NOW, YELLOW! NOW!"
Yellow...soldier. Fellow companion. Or not. Liquid silver glared at the gray and yellow toned wolf, watching her. Attacking! Attacking whom? It did not matter because the crimson and black wolf was also attacking Alteron loyals. "Zodi sees four potential allies...potentials." Collide, chasing another. Rylen, engaging Scythe; traitorous bitch, and her sniveling brother was here too tsk tsk. Virce engaging the giant white wolf. Brushfire was in danger, barely missing the red and black's leap and managing to unsuccessfully deter Swiftkill's movement. Fleeing Shiva.
Eight Alteron inhabitants besides herself, one an escapee returned, another her blood royalty trying to join his sister. And the escaping Shiva. Reality check, five against seven.
""YELLOW! Let's go."
Sneaky sneaky. Such a good Soldier, the lying Swiftkill had brainwashed that one. Her own was being attacked, Brushfire and Collide, the closest. Attacking Shiva...too much chaos, information overload. Red and black flashed again, and her gaze locked on Bloodrayne. Yellowed fangs bared in a sadistic grin as her rank in Alteron's world overcame her. Soldier. SOLDIER. Zodiac barreled around knarled roots, her lanky frame carried easily with her long legs. She would attempt to clash fangs on the assassin's left shoulder, attempt to rip and shred the fur and taste the salty liquid in it's purest form. Most were escaping, or trying to. Where were the others?
If she happened to make it out, hopefully with a new trophy, she would be making a report to her superior. Oh yes. This biggest secret of all, this mass escape and trespassing by the Blackbloods and Alteron traitors. She would tell.
Tattle-tell, tattle tell.
-
[If there is any confusion, I shall try to make it clearer. c:] Suddenly, the foray exploded. There were shouts everywhere; Angel later picked up on Swiftkill's arguing with Scythe and Nightfrost, but she wasn't concerned with that at the moment. Later she'd wonder why on earth they were taking so long. She kept herself level-headed as long as possible, gulping in as much air inbetween moves whenever possible. Stay calm. Don't be afraid. The orange-flashed sentry was assaulted by Sunrush, and the white trainee stepped back to growl a little encouragement, whatever bloodlust she had boiling up. That was over in a flash- the sentry escaped the alpha's grip, and Angel had tried to get her own, but missed, outranked in terms of speed here. A snarl greeted her, and if her face was not already deformed, her gums were suddenly flared out and eyes widened in the appearence of some fairy-tale wolf of nightmares. She had no hope of grabbing the sneaky bitch, but she tried; leaping once after her until- WHAM. Something red flashed towards her, and the warrior was taken by surprize, but not quite knocked over, just unsteadied. Being unsteadied threw the tide of the battle into her assaulter's hands though. While Brushfire swerved and went somewhere else, the white one shifted her focus to Virce, getting back on her feet and swinging herself backwards in time to narrowly miss sharp jaws aimed at her neck. If her focus hadn't been on the sentry, Angel wouldn't of been in the bad situation she was; the first attack missed, but then the female let out a wrenching scream as she felt teeth ripping through one of her front legs- then suddenly, nothing. Just a horrible pain. Her attacker had wrenched her head away- Angel didn't dare to look down at the wound. Instead she looked up when she was ready to see the Alteronian bitch probably occupied by Bloodclot. She felt a rush of gratitude for her relative, but that was overrun when she realised she was shaking. Don't look at your leg. It'd only make the pain worse.....and yet, she looked. Like a child searching for a christmas present, only this wasn't something you'd put under a tree. The purple-eyed female had never had an injury this serious before, and a thousand worries spawned in her mind; what if she never walked again, what if it fell off, what if it rotted awayShe looked up again to see whatever attacks Bloodclot hit or missed on the red bitch. If either hit, or neither, she'd run in as steadily as she could on three feet, feinting an attack on the other female's shoulder, before suddenly leering up towards Virce's ear in hopes of shredding it to nothing. Revenge. Take that, asshole. A weaker wolf would have been fatally slowed by taking a bite to their shoulder, but the grayscale had been bitten many times in her desolate little life, knew how to switch off the pulsating pain if it hadn't struck bone and wasn't currently spewing bright arterial blood like a busted pipe, though in that case doing much of anything about it at all might very well have been an exercise in futility; so long folks. She ran and she did so now with practiced gusto, having flicked one blue eye backward and met the rather pestering sight of that stupid raider fuck in hot pursuit; the knowledge however did not halt her and pressed her on if anything, throwing her over upraised roots and through boundaries jackrabbit-quick. Shiva would not be caught, Collide would not be shaken away, so implacable were they both, so set upon their own individual goals, and the chase for the few moments it lasted was bloodless, though all the while she could hear the brute snarling and panting just behind her. Before Swiftkill's intervention, she might actually have wailed for the help of this maroon mutant herself like a proper manipulative bitch, pulling out her bag of facades and rifling around in it for a moment and coming back up with an old favorite she nevertheless so rarely received the chance to use: wounded gazelle gambit. In other time and place, Shiva would have been the woman who bloodies her face and tears her clothes and directs the summoned police trembling and weeping to a man who has crossed her but is completely innocent of the assault she'll pin on him for it. Nobody will ever know this because she was frighteningly precise and she smiles with her swollen face as he's beaten and as well makes sure to catch his gaze when he's led stumbling away in handcuffs. But all of this was so seamlessly unneeded; like one of the dozens of trespassers too fettered by mortal terror she'd neutralized, all she had to do here was run. Would not deign to roll around in the mud with this hound; there were foxholes as deep and wide as the world to burrow out of sight inside. If only this old legend truly knew the viper she was fighting for, how the little skull she'd grabbed had gotten that way! "Ciao," she hissed breathlessly, that mad mirth victorious and infuriating on her face, to the raider pursued by a foe engineered to be faster and stronger than she was, the raider who would either veer off-course just long enough or be torn apart by the furious monstrosity even if she did eventually reach Shiva. She did not blame the grunt for bungling; it was in their nature and never realizing when they were outmatched lied right there as well, twisted in with the brainless violence and hard knots of muscles as though a strand of DNA. She took flight, legs coiling mid-run beneath her and propelling the wolf onto a massive fallen tree, obsidian claws pushed outward for traction upon the thick scarred wood. One strong shove against the hold fueled by her own momentum, one flash of that whitish-gray like burning snowflakes, and she was gone, end take, set obscured by smoke, curtain beginning to roll. A little uglier than she'd have liked it, a little less theatrical, but it would do. [[this is torture, you guys. XP]]
Jaws met flesh, claws grasped pelt, and the Marquis held on tightly. At this moment, she knew of only one thing she could do at the moment. Hold on. She had to hold on, keep a grip on what she knew and what she understood. Right here, right now, it was just Swiftkill and Brushfire. Swiftkill was escaping. And Brushfire... she was stopping her? But she had to, right? It was her job, her duty, as the Marquis. Loyalties sworn over to the Black Prince, to his Alteron, the timber felt no other option was possible. And so she continued, jaws clamping as tight as they could, though her fangs only felt the thick scruff of fur between her grasp. A whine gurgled into her snarls, which had diminished in volume. The impossibility was sinking in now, and all she could do now was close her eyes. Brows furrowed in pain, in confusion and aimless desperation, she would feel her grips on the Blackblood loosening. She tried to stop it, but something stopped her, first.
And it was then she opened those tear-stained copper eyes, slowly, and they met with hardened, yet soft, green eyes.
"Ru..." Her whimpers loudened, her eyes shutting tightly as she buried her face into the scruff she had snagged. No, please don't do this. You know why I have to... "Please... don't..." Don't cause anymore doubt. Brushfire had seen what happened to those who let others escape. She'd seen the trial, the horrid mutilation beset onto Cue. And even though she knew she'd done everything in her power to stop this attempt so far, she couldn't help feel that others, including Rapier, would not see it that way. Teeth loosened and shut, loosened in shut, in a sort of gentle gnawing, on Swiftkill's scruff pelt. Her paws kept their firm grip, holding her steady atop the massive wolf. Jaws snapped at her hind legs, almost knocking her off. The sentry didn't turn to see who it was, but only scrambled to reposition herself. She was not leaving, not now. Ru had lost so many friends, not even counting those she was going to lose. Claymore. Talon. The others... How could she stand to lose another, especially one who held that viewpoint that she so desperately wished to someday see? "You are not one of them. Don't do this; don't be a fool." The fight around her seemed to blur into nothing. Auds flattened against her head, tears streaming relentlessly down her cheeks, she opened her eyes once more to look at the Blackblood. "You know why..." I have to do this... you know why. The next words came out, unplanned and unheard by the Marquis, herself, "Please... don't leave me..." Don't leave me to be all alone, Swiftkill. "You are better then this. I believe in you." You're the only one who thinks so. Such a precious gift, and now it was all being yanked away from underneath the lithe, bloody timber. She felt her grips upon the large beast loosen, her body slowly starting to slide down and off. Don't leave me... I can't do this alone, without you. She knew if she returned without Swiftkill, she was as good as dead. Whichever way one viewed it, from Ru's mental standpoint to the assumed position of the pack, Ru feared it all. She had entirely different motives to keep the Slave here, but they were motives, all the same.
Copper eyes gazed up with lost, craving, desperate eyes. Don't leave m-- Jaws clamped shut on her hind leg, once again, this time she barrelled off, eyes wide and maw screaching to the skies, "Swiftkill!" Who else could she call to? Who else would actually answer her? Either way, the cry for help was instinctive. Fangs tore away at her leg, flesh peeling off. Eyes looked around hastily to find the face of her assailant, but as soon as they rested upon Yellow - you traitor - a new set of fangs claimed a hold on Brushfire and tore her away from the Soldier's grasp. She yelped, pained, and flailed her legs despite the streaking pain up along the muscles of the now-marred hind leg. The stench of that one Blackblood, the red and black one, filled Ru's nostrils and before she could cry out for help, before she could even attempt to fight back, she felt those fangs aim and attack, snagging on her upper neck, just below her jawline. Her instant reaction was panic, fear, and so she coughed, eyes wide. Attempting to pull herself free, she only felt the pressure increase, the pain skyrocket. Curling her body around, she attempted to kick and claw at her assailant's face with her hind legs. Her tail twitched, the horrifying stings, the pressure, the loss of oxygen. Blood began to seep, to stream, from her neck. That warm, crimson lifeblood spread into her pelt, causing her fur to clump and stain. And this Blackblood only tightened her grip. Once-innocent eyes began to roll back, her maw opening as if trying to gasp for air, but only disgusted gurgles exited. The strain, it began to take its toll.
And then came her backup.
She felt a jolt, and eyes attempted to refocus on what was happening around her. A large, black figure had bolted right into her attacker. Coughing, choking, the Marquis hoped that this might loosen the grip on her neck, or at least distract the Blackblood long enough for her to yank free. If unsuccessful, she'd continue kicking, clawing, pushing, until something happened. It was now two against one, the red and black bitch would have to give way. If she succeeded, in one fell swoop the she-wolf would pull herself away. Flesh tore away, blood seaping, and yet the timber force herself up. Staggering away, head turning frantically as her eyes tried to focus - as they were blurry, now - on the status of the escape. She couldn't make out any figures, just yet, but that maroon blur up ahead was unmistakeable. Attempting to run, the Marquis stumbled for a bit before picking herself back up. Everything around her was spinning, her chest uncomfortably warm from the loss of blood, as well as the blood that now completely covered her chest, having streamed down from her neck wound. Auds stood tall, then flattened, then swivelled. She couldn't concentrate. The only thing in her mind right now was getting to Swiftkill. She had to make sure she didn't leave her. She had to.
Dainty paws fumbled as the she-wolf strode onwards, probably bumping into someone's fight here or there. Probably getting a scar from someone trying to stop her. She could smell the edge of the borders from where she was, it was all so close. So uncomfortably close. Yet she pushed onwards. Her awkward pace picked up, her head lowered and eyes shut tight as she tried to focus. Swiftkill would not leave her. One way or the other. If she'd somehow managed to catch up - what are the chances? - she'd stand tall, feeling her legs shake from underneath her. Everything... it was all so impossible. Could it... possibly not even be real? Eyes would search for her, probably landing upon someone else. "d-don't..." She couldn't say anymore. She could feel the strain of speaking, the uncoorperative muscles in her neck. Blood seeped from her maw. And the Marquis gave one last look around, trying to find someone. Someone to stop, someone to fight. If she was going to be defeated, she would be defeated after making a dent. Everything began to spin, and spin faster. Blackness faded in from the outside of her peripherals, yet it disappeared more and more with each time she blinked. Numbness... She wouldn't go down, not like this...
She was stronger, right...?
[quote author=Sunrush[Rp] link=topic=36669.msg263035#msg263035 date=1306270388] Teeth let go of Brushfire. She wasn't a real target, only in the way of that female who was the real prize. Body staggering back, Sunrush peeled her eyes about. It was a chaotic mess of blood and fur. Here they were and what she was afraid of all this time, pale eyes glanced at Angel that seemed to be hurt rather badly. "ANGEL!" Family instincts taking over as she watched the female go back for a second attack. Be careful, kid. A frown pulling her lips. Mayhem everywhere. She was looking for one person in particular, a flash of maroon and Sun followed it, dodging snapping jaws and flailing bodies. "MOTHER! WE NEED TO LEAVE NOW!" Her voice was strained and her teeth were almost bared as pale blue eyes looked to Swift, almost pleading to her. Stop trying to be the hero, there would be others to come. They crawl in and snap the team in their faces. They wouldn't stand a chance. They needed to move now. Or else. "Zodi sees four potential allies...potentials."Ears flicked to the shadowy voice, what the fuck was that? Sun turned her head finally noticing that another had arrived. Yet, she stood on the outside of the fight seemingly judging it before trying to turn and attack Rayne while she was caught up. Sun wouldn't have any of that shit, not now. The blackblood-mutt sprang into a sprint for Zodiac, teeth bared and aiming for her legs or tail. If and when she caught up to the female that was barreling into Bloodrayne, then she'd try and bite down on her back leg, cripple and tackle her. But if Zodiac somehow managed to move her long legs out of Sun's reach the female would barrel towards her and try to pin Zodiac down on her stomach. Stay down. [/quote] [quote author=Bloodrayne [RP] link=topic=36669.msg263170#msg263170 date=1306278205] (If there's any confusion with this post, just PM me on my Royal account. I'll be happy to clarify.) The taste of the rusty orange, brown, and gray timber's blood was hot against her lips and pink tongue, the metallic tang thick and sweet, like the first bite into a juicy piece of meat. And as the Alteron wolf struggled to get herself free, Bloodrayne only increased her bite, her blood-soaked fangs digging deeper into Brushfire's neck, a bone-rattling snarl rushing up from the pit in her stomach, reverberating through her throat and into the timber's thick fur, a warning to stop her struggle. Her flails with her back legs hardly did any damage against Bloodrayne's thick coat and muscles. And then, as the gasping cries began to turn into distained gurgles for air, Bloodrayne grinned, some of her bloody molars visible. And just as she thought she'd soon taste the sweet nectar of death in this timber's pelt, did her hawk eyes flash to her left, her pupils dilating to almost nothing but the size of a pin prick. [If Sunrush's attack on Zodiac's legs wasn't successful] She saw the other run at her, lips pulled back, jaws open, and fangs dripping with sticky saliva ready to latch on to her, Bloodrayne released her hold on Brushfire's neck just in time to spin herself, like the quick slither of a snake away from the oncoming dire, one in similar size to Bloodrayne than that smaller timber, Bloodrayne turned to face the black female, at least one yard away from where stood before. A vicious snarl ripped from her open jaws, Brushfire's crimson blood dripping down from her fangs and chin to the forest ground, which was already a path of dirt with roots and grass clawed up in the heat of the fight. And she snapped her jaws snap several times, similar to the sound of a bear trap closing, before she opened her mouth once more to rub her pink tongue over her back molars, dripping with a mixture of blood and saliva. The red and black assassin lifted her head up, showing her full height of four feet, her head high and eyes narrowed like the head of a viper snake ready to strike. And then she saw the streak of a maroon, tan, and gold pelt rush towards Zodiac in hopes to barrel into the black dire. If the attack worked, Bloodrayne knew that Sunrush could handle herself, but even so, Bloodrayne would wait for a small signal from her Alpha that she could before jumping back into the fight. She would run back to her previous meal, pull her head up, and then lash it down with jaws outstretched, hopefully to grab the hold of Brushfire she had before. She would finish what she started. If Zodiac dodged Sunrush's attack, Bloodrayne would lunge at the black dire as quickly as Zodiac would have dodged. Her long, sleek legs would carry her weight forward and Bloodrayne, with jaws open, would lunge at her opponent in hopes to grab anything of hers. If she did, Bloodrayne would either push or pull (if lower, like legs, then pull/ if higher, like neck or shoulder, then push) to the ground and then she'd let Sunrush finish her off if she so chose. If Sunrush was able to stop Zodiac long before the black dire was able to come close to landing with Bloodrayne's shoulder, Ray's attention would be solely on Brushfire and nothing more. With a malicious grin formed from her jowls still holding down Brushfire, she would tighten her grip. She would make a good trophy... and to make the game even more fun... and so her trophy would not escape... Bloodrayne, when close to hearing the last breaths of her victim escaping her, would let go, and snap down at Brushfire's front leg that was facing her. She would hope to grab hold of the limb, and bite down in hope to snap the bone. This way her trophy would not slither away... [/quote] Fuck, thought Collide as she raced after the little black and silver wolf. She wasn't going to catch her and then a thundering was heard behind her. Oh shit this can't be good she thought as her ears swiveled back to focus in on the sounds behind her even as the Brute Raider kept rushing forward towards the ex-Reeve, maybe she'd get the girl. She didn't know and when she managed to focus in on the sound of paw steps upon the ground, more like paw stomps, she knew that she had to move or get steamrollered and so the Brute Raider saved her own skin first. This was not going to go over well with the higher ups but she didn't really care. She'd rather have a boat load of scars from punishment than be left to die here on the borders of the forest because she was stupid enough to let one of the blackbloods get a hold of her. Even now she would turn out better than Brushfire would, maybe even come out of this without even a scratch upon her body minus some missing tail fur. And so Collide twisted to the left and ducked behind the nearest tree even as the blackblood managed to barrel passed her. There was nothing she could do otherwise and as the slave raced for the borders there was nothing that Collide could do but watch for a moment as the once leader of the blackbloods called for her minions. For some reason she didn't want to get into the fray yet, but she would slink along the bushes, the rustling avoided by being a few inches beyond them to the point that she was not touching the foliage. Collide would dart from tree shadow to tree shadow to stay out of the line of sight for the moment. She'd have to get some sort of vengeance upon these idiots that had ruined her. Collide could think of nothing else as she surveyed the scene, Brushfire incapacitated, just her and Zodiac left it seemed. This was going to be a clusterfuck when it was all over with. If she was lucky she'd get off with minimum punishment. But the rest of Alteron. She'd rather not be them. Just then there was an opening by the brown wolf who had assaulted her before. She would get him. And so the Brute Raider immediately went forth, adrenaline running through her veins as she raced towards the brown wolf with dreadlocks in an attempt to bowl him over. With everyone else preoccupied there out to be no one in her way, especially since she'd come out of the gloom to attack him. This was her way of getting revenge on messing with her capture of Shiva. She was aiming to take out his legs from under him or at least to snap and tear at some portion of his hock, disable him, get him stuck here. That would be the perfect way to handle this and then offer him back for Brushfire. It didn't seem like the red and black one was going to leave her behind anyways, might as well get some collateral. [dodged swiftkill, and went after Morning Glory, attempting to bowl him over or shred his hocks with her fangs.] Virce's body collided with Angel's, throwing her off balance but not completely over. Virce recovered from the collision, not catching her initial price but when she made a secondary strike for one of the female's legs, she was treated to the momentary taste of fur and flesh before it was spiced with the addition of blood. Her bite had sank deep into one of Angel's legs in the brief moments of the contact, she had shaken her head savagely, ripping into the sensitive fur, flesh and possibly even nerve before wrenching away, seeking to take strips of bloodied flesh with her. A crippling blow had been landed, at the very least enough to slow the blackblood down. Virce leapt back with whatever grisly remnants of a chunk she had taken; just in time to narrowly miss a serious body slam coming her way, courtesy of a large male. Coming to the defense of his comrade, no doubt, trying to save her. Too late, handsome, but not too late for a dance with me. He made a go for her face first, her eye region in particular, which she managed to evade, but as she jerked her head away to avoid his teeth the second go round, she felt his teeth slash her muzzle as he attempted to grab hold. He hadn't caught hold of her muzzle, but pain seared across the top of her muzzle, small bloody cracks of her own blood beginning to surface amidst the war paint and angel blood. She leapt to the side with a sizzling snarl and would move to follow after him, seeking immediate retaliation before he got too far. Just as his teeth had graced her face, her jaws opened to catch a piece of his, a fang filled kiss in return. She'd aim for the upper part of Bloodclot's face, hoping her teeth would either catch hold and snag, maybe ripping into an eye and/or some side of his muzzle. If she caught any part of him, her head would give another powerful jerk to ravage whatever piece of him she got. If she fell short, then maybe she could settle for a taste of his neck. A streak of white, caught in her peripheral, the little white angel stumbling her way over for a laughable attempt at revenge. Having attempted to keep in step after Bloodclot, Virce was a moving target and Angel's teeth would likely only catch a minuscule amount of her ear as she moved past Angel after Bloodclot, a small rip. If she had landed a good blow to the male's face, enough to stagger or stall him, she'd make a quick aim for some other part of him in close reach. If not, she'd attempt to retract momentarily, quickly sidestepping and getting ready to go at him again. Angel should have been significantly slowed for the moment, so Bloodlcot would be her main focus, but she would try to keep her eyes open to any threat from both. |
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Post by Akante on Feb 1, 2012 1:23:32 GMT -5
[quote author=Rylen [rp] link=topic=36669.msg263606#msg263606 date=1306337894] Mildly confusion baring on her eyes as the red wolf moved out of her way and two new came to vision. Claymore She barred her fangs and attempted to bite after him as he started this fight. She felt his fangs on her but Rylen would forever be Rylen ~ "Good sweetie, but that ain't hard enough., his fangs were barred into her leg now and her own bite was attempted on to his skull or ear (she couldn't reach anything else.) She would smile the whole time in bliss of everything and then Swiftkill attacked her as well. Rylen's face was no longer upward so Swiftkill bit deeply into her shoulder blade and pain and surprise would force Rylen to let go of Claymor if she had bitten him. The chaos starting to spread faster than she could count to ten - One - two - Rylen watched the wolf step toward Swiftkill and Rylen recognized colour, ferocity and the traits of red - three - four - She recognized the word mother, the wolves standing around their slave and she realized immediately what was happening. It was a rescue to save Swiftkill and whatever or not personal issues were raised in all of this mess Rylen would recognize that it was HER they went after, her whom these strangers had been searching for. They would not leave without her it was clear in the way they pleaded for her to come with them. Rylen moved - five - six - She would run past them all, to her surprise she found it easy for whatever they would attempt doing on her she would not recognize pain as anything but pleasure. They could bite, but Rylen was moving forward anyway. - Seven - Eight - Rylen would run toward Swiftkill her goal obvious to the surroundings, just awaiting snaps and bites to hit her and she was well aware of every bite, but it didn't end her own fight. She was attempting to bite after Swiftkill, moving up to block her away to the borders. She no longer cared about Shiva who had already gone too far away, but Swiftkill was still here and the others wouldn't leave before she followed. The longer they held her back the more time they would buy to the rest of the pack to come and help. The more time the others would have to come and stop the rest, chase them, kill them whatever they saw fit. But Rylen was attempting to bite deeply into the slave's front left leg, trying to grasp her fangs around. - Nine - And hold. If she got her fangs around the leg of Swiftkill she would hold her ground, her body was welcoming any bite and attempt to have her let go, even if she should die in this very attempt of keeping the slave where she belonged she was not ready to let go. She felt her body embraced by the battle, she saw in the corner of her eye Brushfire badly injured. But Rylen had no time to think or stop, no time to re-think a situation that was already caused, no time to realize that Brushfire was badly injured or who was going to aid her, she aided herself in the gore that was to come. If Swiftkill avoided her bite Rylen would strike again, continue to stand in the way of Swiftkill and the borders and attempt to bite her shoulder that was a better place to try and hold as any other. Rylen could only try and hold the beast, the mother, the slave, the former-alpha, the giant, the red, the baby killer, the beast. It was all up to her now, her mind was blocked from the rest now because everything was setting out of place, everyone was colliding with each other and she was ready to collide with Swiftkill. She was not allowed to leave. She never would be. - TEN - [/quote] [[Since in Bloodrayne's post she said she was going to eventually go for Ru after she either brought down Collide or handed them off to Sun I figured i'd just post, if I need to edit, I will. Short.]]The call for help had sounded, echoing through Alteron, even as far away as Jayley was she could hear it, someone was trying to leave... no... escape? Frowning, suddenly she rose, that would certainly not do. The Crown did not allow anyone to leave, let alone escape. And why would any true Alteronian want to leave? What excuse could be adequate enough to appease the Crown? The people? The little dire mix huffed as she began to jog towards the caller, wandering who the hell would want to run away from a life here. Jayley was content with her life in Alteron, in fact, despite what people said, it wasn't all cruel all the time, maybe the young little bell just saw the light in all things (ha), or the silver lining on the storm cloud. Or perhaps, just maybe, possibly, the place wasn't as fucked as it seemed? That or she had never really pissed off anyone who could wreak havoc on her life.... That might be it. She chuckled lightly at the thought before lightly picking up the pace as she tried to get to the borders in time while still saving energy. It wasn't long until the sounds and smells of a battle hit her senses... So this was no longer a simple Alteronian escape? Lightly she crept up the small hill that led to a cover of brush and fallen branches, peering lightly through the rubble to see what was going on. One was fleeing, being chased down by an Alteronian, the slave Swiftkill was there, fighting off more of Jayley's people and a bunch of Blackbloods she didn't know where there, tearing up the small opposition of Alteron members there. Swiftkill was yelling at a Solider who seemed under a trance, following her orders, Brushfire, the little sentry was yelling too, trying to stop her. Someone had called Swiftkill mother.... They had came to get her? Oh that would not do. Fangs bared she was about to lunge out when her thoughts were broke and she looked back at the battle, Brushfire was laying gravely wounded and the red and black one would soon be back on her for the killing bite. Shit! Damnit Jayley!, she thought to herself as she slowly creeped around to the bush closest to the crawling invalid. Gently she dropped to the ground, purple eyes narrowed with a bit of concentration, "No loyal Alteronian will die tonight..." she whispered to the bleeding wolf, under her breath mummering "Hopefully..." Then lightly she rose and grabbed the other fiery colored female and dragged her ( or attempted to) with some amount of stealth her lithe frame luckily actually possessed, under the bush and away from the fights and potentially out of sight. Hopefully that would work, if not, at least the little timber might have been moved a bit from the battle. How galant. Purple eyes turned to the fight scene, she felt as if the little timber was a little safer so she found herself searching for an enemy to dig into. Her eyes fell onto the other raider, Collide she thought it was dueling lightly with a smaller brown male. Eyes flashed and she began to move that way. Everything was so chaotic, but his focus was, for now, being Bloodrayne's backup. But just as a huge black beast leapt for her, a grey patterned wolf leapt for him, and so it was truly on now. He didn't see her coming, and so when she dove for his back leg from behind the only warning he had was the feeling something was there, and yet teeth still connected on his foot as Morning Glory moved to turn around. With a snarl of pain and rage, the guard knew what had to be done, and ripped his foot free. Better gouges than broken paws, but it hurt like hell to do that...and he would whirl and attempt to lunge for Collide's face if it was still low to the ground, or her legs if she'd raised her head when he jerked his paw free. If he got her face, he'd snap and attempt to mangle whatever he could, and lunge forward to slash and swipe at her chest with wide paws, hoping to inflict pain and drive her back and away from him. If he got a leg, he would do the opposite, and try to yank her feet out from under her that way. If she dodged him entirely, the brown tricolor would bristle and snarl at her in a fierce display, back left paw held slightly off the ground behind him, yellow eyes alert for any signs of weakness, and then he'd surge forward again. Jaws wide and dripping with saliva and he'd try to grab her neck. He wanted this finished, and somewhere in the din on battle sounds he heard his mother encouraging Swiftkill to go so that the rest of them could follow. Every second here was a chance one of them might not make it back. Every second meant more injuries, and the likelihood that more Alteronians would emerge ready for battle from the undergrowth. It needed to end, one way or another. They hadn't come to kill all these wolves, but if it came down to it, they'd make sure the last breaths they had were between the jaws of a Blackblood. ((Reading two pages of posts just to respond... geez, guys. XD Also making the assumption that Brushfire passed out sine Akante said she was going to. Let me know if that's not okay.)) His attack on Rylen hadn't been for naught, though she scraped him as he dashed past her. It was fortunate, perhaps, that she'd made a grab at his ear that no longer existed—just another scar on top of many. Her attention was soon diverted and he was permitted to pass on, a long desired but never expected rendezvous with his sister. Blood wicked into his fur, but the injury was minor—far more minor than the original ravaging that had rended his ear from his body. Where now was the foul orange creature that had taken it from him, and robbed Rylen of her prize? It didn't matter anymore. Soon this world would be left behind and he would go on to the next. One way or another. His sister refused him, a growl causing him pain to his very core. He nearly returned the growl, but he hadn't the heart to chastise her. Even after everything he'd done, everything he'd endured in this fetid, rotting jungle, he couldn't bear hurting her for throwing it all away. Part of him was just overjoyed with her presence, though he feared for her—he feared for them. He didn't understand her debt, couldn't understand it—not now, perhaps later. Blood began to clot on his skull, corners of his mouth pulling back in a sort of grimace. No matter what Scythe may have done, she needed his help now and he would never deny her. " I will." He whispered in return to her plea. He would help her. If this were his time to shine, his time to leave... had she come with thoughts of him after all?... he would go. He would go with her. His eyes lingered on hers in that brief moment before she turned to trail after Swiftkill. He began to follow behind, though he forced himself to look away as they walked through the ocean of churning bodies. All around them there was turmoil, crashing, blood escaping, the smell thick and overpowering. He lost Scythe in that moment as he stared openly at the bodies that wove around him. Never touching. He wasn't even there as far as they were concerned. He was a ghost. He was unimportant. It was surreal, to exist on a battlefield where nobody knew you. His eyes passed over Brushfire, and then returned, watching her in silent horror. Here, she was a beast he was unfamiliar with. A snarling, bloodied, crying beast he had never known his friend to be. Still, he was unaware of the true monster she had become. If he had known, things might have happened different. If he had known how ugly she truly was, he might have left her. But he didn't know. She was not without redemption, in his eyes. Yes, she had taken the bait of Lucifer, but she still might rise, if she only dreamed for it. For a brief moment he tore his eyes away from the bloodied scene, seeking Scythe—there, safe. He was no longer worried for her, not for those precious few seconds that he floated through the destruction, pausing near the sentry he had known for so long. Whether she had collapsed at Bloodrayne's feet, or towards the border, he stood over her looking down in disbelief. He could hardly recognize her, but he still did—faintly. " Stop. STOP." He spoke to those who listened, those who might still harass the fallen angel. It was unlikely that anybody still cared to listen. For all anyone cared, she was dying, and should be left to it. He cared. He dipped his head, almost oblivious to the turmoil around him. He nudged at her prone form, backing away in horror as she listlessly settled back down. No. A nervous glance was cast around him again—checking to make sure all was well. As 'well' as it could be. Once more he approached Brushfire, this time attempting to weasel under her. Even if he managed to get his body beneath her crippled form, when he would attempt to lift, he'd find himself unable. He hadn't the strength. Regardless of which way he failed, he'd cast a pleading eye to those around him. Swiftkill. Her blackbloods. Any of them. Help. " Help. Take her. TAKE HER." He pleaded, he cried to them, and it most certainly would fall on mostly deaf ears. Bring her with us. Who here cared for his plight or his wishes? Who, except perhaps Scythe, perhaps Swiftkill? Who, perhaps Brushfire? And she... she would die here, but he could help her. He would help her. He just needed help. He needed somebody to pick up the weight. He waited and hoped that somebody would listen. Still, he could not wait forever. If nobody responded to his plea, he'd regretfully turn from Brushfire's body and locate Scythe, zeroing in on her. It was time for them to go. The border was wide open, and everyone was too preoccupied to pay attention to him. He hoped somebody would retrieve Brushfire, that she would be close behind. But if she was not, it no longer mattered. He had to save Scythe. He had to make sure she got out again. And she... well, she had to make sure he got out. " Go." He murmured again to Scythe, and with that he began the run for the border, bounding strides not as effective as Shiva's, but he was as much of a wraith when everyone elses attention was directed elsewhere. It was time to disappear. Collide felt triumphant as she managed to connect with one of the brown one's feet and as the wolf snarled she knew she'd gotten him good. Definitely her goal and so she was satisfied but before she could clamp down any harder upon the foot it was wrenched free of her jaws. Her teeth would leave some nasty gouges upon it but she would be content with what she had managed to do. Sure it was not exactly breaking a foot, but that really wasn't her goal here. Her goal was collateral for Brushfire should she be take and so when the blackblood whirled around she had already retracted her head in readying for the next attack. But Morning Glory was quick and managed to grab her right front leg just under the joint before she ripped it out of his teeth. That would be leaving a scar she felt, but what did she care. Collide was quick now though and immediately as Morning Glory's jaws were ripped from her leg she snapped forward. She was aiming to scrape some of that nice brown fur right off of his face if she got the chance. Really that was her only goal, maybe take out an eye with her fangs if she got lucky. But for some reason she didn't think her luck was that good. And so whether or not the attack actually hit she would lunge forward, her fangs seeking the flesh of his neck or shoulder into which to dig into. It would be a shame if she got him off without a single scar. Definitely not what she was looking for even as her front leg protested from the wound within it where he'd managed to rip a chunk out of her. No point in adding too much fluff here, it was pointless. After all a fight was a fight. [kept it short~ went for his face and then his shoulder after she got a chuck ripped out of her front leg.] It was complete and utter chaos, and blue Delta was stuck in the middle. Spit and snarls echoed around him, blood and guts and saliva coating the ground where springy green moss had once grown pure and bright. Ferns were drenched in thick, pasty life fluid, and the carnage was a terrible thing. Sky blue eyes sought his fellow assassin, Bloodrayne's coat drenched fully red with the blood of the Alteronian sentry who lay in a cumpled heap at her feet. Attention was brought towards Swiftkill as she spun on her heel, snarling at him. Him who was there to help along with their other packmates who risked life and limb to come to her rescue. "I can take care of myself, Mudface," the maroon wolf spat, and the blue devil snarled in return, tension high and adrenaline pumping in his ears. If you can take care of yourself SO. WELL. Then why are WE the ones rescuing you? were the only words echoing in his mind, but Night did not vocalize them, scarred brows furrowed angrily. "But I'm afraid, they" - a gesture to Scythe and Claymore - "cannot. So here is your new mission, boy - you get them out - all of them. Or we all die. Right here, right now.""So you would sacrifice your rescuers, your family, for THEM? The ones that held you captive?" he spat, resentment and anger and emotions running high. "Scythetrill was wrong," Nightfrost growled to himself as he turned away from Swiftkill, ears pinned flat against his head, uncaring if she heard or not. "You aren't worth saving." Not worth the emotional pain and strife her capture had caused for her family. Not worth the blood spilled today, the injuries acquired attempting to rescue her sorry ass. The scarred beast sprinted towards Claymore and Scythe, maw open and tongue lolling as he raced across the battle field. Scythe, he knew, the gray male, he did not. But their interaction, fearful and worried but all together seemingly relieved spoke loudly to him. The serf had not attempted anything against any of the blackbloods, and likewise, none had seemed to attack him, ignoring the timber hybrid in favor of the attacking Alteronians. It took only a few moments for him to reach them through the throng of chaotic fighting, but it seemed like an eternity as he dodged and wove around fighting wolves. The Delta opened his mouth, preparing to ask who was actually on their side that seemed to trickle out of the forest, when Claymore shouted, appearing to be nearly in tears, horrified as he watched Bloodrayne tear into Brushfire. " Stop. STOP." And Nightfrost swung his head towards where Claymore indicated, seeing his fellow assassin ready to give the killing blow. No hesitation. No mercy. In that moment, there was a swelling of pride in his chest for her. Perhaps it would be horrifying to witness for another, but Nightfrost was an assassin, as was Bloodrayne. They lived by a different set of rules and norms, of blood and death and survival. But it was Claymore's desperation that broke his attention. He was trying to lift the bloodied sentry, but he was too small, too weak. " Help. Take her. TAKE HER." Pleading voice did not fall on deaf ears, and Night once more sped across the battle to Clay's side. Wordlessly, he crouched down next to where the gray timber/dire hybrid was attempting to lift up the bleeding wolf, allowing for Claymore to move Brushfire onto his back. They headed towards the borders then, Nightfrost moving a bit awkwardly with the limp body on his back (assuming that Clay had indeed helped him carry her, of course. If not, well, he would struggle for a few moments to lift her himself before succeeding and then carrying her just as awkwardly). Head would turn, eyes focusing and counting to make sure the party was gathering together and running away from this fetid hellhole. [SO. Uh. This is kind of assuming that Bloodrayne and Jayley will get distracted by one another over Brushfire when Night and Clay slip around them? Or something. I'm kind of confused but trying to work with it, lol. xD] Too much happening, too much. The whole shebang was a cluster-fuck of teeth and fur and blood. But it was if nothing else exciting to behold. Split second too late, the gray female was gone, leaving everything behind but the skull clasped tightly in her jaws. Zodiac vaguely remember the female's name to be Shiva, ex-Reeve. Oh, the mighty was falling. Alteron was rotting at it's core. Poor thing.
Silver gaze flared with life as it met with the assassin's chilling gaze, a comical caricature of a snapping bear after fish. An insane giggle trickled from the black beasts throat, eery among the savage snarls and spattering of blood. But alas, their dance was not to be, and the last the shadowy figure saw of her opponent was her intent to hunt the Sentry down. A painful searing on her tail - her TAIL had the Soldier yanked to a painful standstill, a loud CRACK as the bones in the tail were broken, leaving a half limp thing - before rearing up and half-spinning to meet the blonde bitch head on.
Bodies collided with a lung-clearing whoomph before sharp teeth sought Sunrush's muzzle, or face, or even an ear to try and wrestle the mutt into submission, if her teeth were to grab hold of anything, savagely tugging and shaking to rip something. Anything.
"Stop. STOP.............Help. Take her. TAKE HER."
Claymore. The fallen prince. What the hell was he doing? "Run run, little wolf...your tail will be mine to play with."Whispered under breath, between attacks. Quick gaze noticed him and the big blue lifting Brushfire and attempting to carry her away. Away from Alteron? No. No. The situation was clearly getting out of control, and quick like. Where were the other soldiers? Hell, the other sentries? The handful that had shown up had only gained the help of one other. Not that it mattered since three Alteronians were taking their leave, whether by choice or not.
All of this thought and observation had taken place within seconds of each other, and now the fight was still on.
The black wolf turned her attention back to the yellow-haired dog, for if none of her bites had hit, she would jump away and glare angrily at her tail. Glare viciously at Sunrush. She vaguely remember this one calling the Slave Mother. Mother. "Mother..." Zodiac wouldn't let this one escape. Even if she had to chase her down. Circling, ready for another launch, if only she could get a hold on the bitch's legs and break one. Alteron needed something for it's loss. The daughter of the Slave was a welcome substitute.
Maw opened wide as she closed in once more, lunging in for the left front leg, crush it in the powerful grasp. Or, if Sunrush were to dodge it, the shadow would aim to slash open her side or belly, anything to gain the advantage, even if it left herself open for return attacks.
Nothing spared, nothing gained.
[quote author=Sunrush[Rp] link=topic=36669.msg266190#msg266190 date=1306593508]
Ooc||
I won't be here Sunday and most of Monday.
______________________________________
A broken tail, her efforts left the female with a limp tail. The mutt heard that smooth loud crack, but it wasn't over. Sun drew back as the black female reared back for a bit of revenge. Her teeth lashing out at Sun, trying to grasp a hold of anything that her jaws could get, but Sun moved back and to the side quick enough to only receive two gazes on her muzzle. Bleed not heavily enough to act as problem and possibly not deep enough to leave a scar. That fucking bitch, a low growl rumbled in the pits of Sunrush's throat. Take her ass down. Pale eyes watched as the black female taunted Claymore, a growl rippled again. Oh how Sun just wanted to tackle her into a tree. How she just wanted to knock her fucking teeth out and with that rip out her fucking tongue. This one wasn't even frightening compared to whatever else lingered in the stanky jungle. This one only wanted to seem frightening. Where's your upper hand now? And again the female turned her gaze back to Sun, leaping out of the way, yet circling back for more. Leaping at her with jaws opened wide. Teeth clashed with the side of her leg, though Sun did let her get a real grip. Spinning around her rather quickly so that fangs would glide against her back. The black beast left a medium gash on her upper back. My turn. With her close position behind Zodiac, Sun would proceed to charge her, but this time she wouldn't try to knock her down. An almost fatal mistake that had been. She rear up and almost mount her as she tried to grab the back off her scruff, slowly pulling the females head back seeing if that too would crack. However if Zodiac tried to run or dodge with Sun still being behind her, the redish female would make a charge at her from the side and try to grab Zodiac by her throat. No escaping. [/quote] [[changing all my posts, because apparently ru's already been promoted. just to make this all the more interesting. summary of post: ru passes out~]]
INHALE!
Her attempt had been successful in escaping the assassin's murderous jaws. The lungs which seemed to be suffocating inflated desperately, taking in as much air as possible. To whom she had to thank? She had no idea, and for right now, her stumbles and flimsy pawsteps would have to be thank-you enough. Whoever had done it, that mysterious black wolf, they were distracting the black and red Blackblood. The Marquis would not waste these precious few seconds, and attempted to proceed onwards, hoping to catch up to the whole reason hell had broken loose. Sure, Shiva may have instigated the escape, but if it hadn't been for Swiftkill's decision to join in, perhaps these friends of hers wouldn't have made such a grand entrance, fangs slashing through every other wolf present. The warm, putrid stench of blood overwhelmed the small timber, and she didn't even know the majority of what she scented was her own. Wet and warm, her chest heaved each breath, her eyes blinking fervently as she tried to focus in on what was happening around her. Chaos. Pure chaos. Fur flashed this way and that, and even though she couldn't see clearly, she probably wouldn't have been able to, anyway. As for right now, only one wolf was her focus, and as her eyes strained to gaze forwards, that distinct maroon pelt caught her attention. And she set off.
Despite the fact that Brushfire could now breathe, the strain of doing so seemed to be more difficult than it had been when under the Blackblood's powerful jaws. Now, she was tempted and teased with the air that lay so readily available, but each time she took a breath, her neck seemed to explode. The heat and pain, so sharp and merciless, shot up her neck, down her chest, and she could feel the warmth of her own blood steadily pouring out onto her burnt-orange pelt. She could feel it start to trickle down her forelegs, but she paid this no mind. Small, copper paws pushed onward, eyes no longer open nor focused on Swiftkill. She relied on her previous glimpse to lead her to the Slave, to be a correct target. Tears seemed to jump out of her closed eyes, mixing with the blood and streaming down to her neck wound. Had her injuries not been so grave, had the pain not been so intense and numbing, she probably would've cried out at the burning from the salty content of her tears. But everything was all a blur now. Everything was painful. Each step sucked all her strength, even as she tripped, fumbling forwards and probably crashing a few times. She could no longer tell up from down. The rush of warmth, the lack of sufficient blood to her head, it threw all her senses off balance. Every moment she convinced herself she was walking tall, straight forwards, she found herself diving nose-first into the blood-soaked, rotten soil. And so she'd pick herself back up, convinced she'd made some progress when, in all actuality, her assassin lay not too far behind her.
And within what seemed to be several minutes, though was only around twenty seconds or so, a whoosh from behind startled the Marquis. But before she could even gasp in shock, as if she had the desire to, fangs reintroduced themselves to Brushfire's raw, bloodied throat. Her body tumbled and rolled, falling flat on her back once again. This time she kicked only once or twice, however her lack of strength barely allowed her to even lift her hind legs. Now she simply twitched, her eyes squinted shut, her auds pinned against her head. The pain and pressure was even worse than before, and soon that numbness that had overcome her body began to warm up. In an instant it froze, her body shaking into shivers. Everything... it was all so cold, now. An uncomfortable sensation - the timber had never experienced a chill like this. But soon her hearing faded, and the buzzing of the battle zoned into nothing. The warmth of her blood streaming from her neck disappeared, and she barely noticed when those fangs let go. She barely noticed when they made contact with her wrist.
And by the time the assassin attempted to clamp her jaws shut on her wrist bones, the she-wolf had left. Darkness had filled in where panic and chaos had recently reigned.
Hello, abysmal darkness.
"So you would sacrifice your rescuers, your family, for THEM? The ones that held you captive?"Wrong, wrong, wrong...so wrong, so lost, so confused. Scythe was her rescuer, and Swiftkill only wanted to rescue Claymore from this jungle abyss. "Swiftkill!"Okay. There was room for one more, she guessed. "Scythetrill was wrong, you aren't worth saving."A rumbled growl, a nasty comment thrown right back at him, "No. I'm not." I'm not some glory trophy that you desert morons want to wave around. I am my own being, my own savior, and yet my own demise: and I would not have it any other way.Fast forward to Swiftkill standing at the border's edge. Claymore's cries were heard, and radioactive green bolted upwards to see. A throaty grumble, only to be heard to herself, "Idiots."And yet, as she'd observe the scenario unfold, as the tricolor Marquis - no, ex-Marquis - blacked out in a pile of blood and tears, crying for redemption, falling into oblivion - she smiled. The dirt-caked assassin trying to gather her up - well now, looks like old Mudface came around after all! In her short-lived moment of peace, eyes focused on the brown princess stumbling over her words in anxiety, hasty and worried and so scared - At that moment, Swift would embrace the child, curling her head into the fur of the skinny girl. "Oh Scythe, do not fear..." and with eyes making contact, fierce and alive and burning with the fire of the ex-alpha's soul, "No one will be left behind. Not while I am still breathing. Go. NOW." How many lives were at stake? Scythe, Claymore, Sunrush and Brushfire...the black and red youth, the lost soul Yellow...Angel and Bloodclot, Morning Glory and Mudface... ...oh. And herself, perhaps. CRUNCH.A savage snarl, cursing herself for zoning out, eyes swiveled to take in the raider, who was currently dug into her shoulder. While the aim was at the leg, the coddling of Scythe made Swift bend down, making the shoulder where the leg would have been. And of course, it was the already wounded one. Perfect.Pupils dilated as they made contact to Rylen's. A growl, teeth fully exposed with drool dipping down, most likely onto Scythe if she hadn't attempted to escape yet. Usual wolf behavior, challenging the Alteronian to let go immediately or face the consequences. If Rylen let go, if she did slink off the blackblood dire, then Swift would not pursue, would not lay one fang upon her pelt. If not, however... Jaws would crack open, slowly, as to try and intimidate, eyes pleading with tears forming, don't make me do this. Then, Swift would try and encircle her mouth over the neck, over the windpipe. Once in the grasp of Swiftkill, there was no turning back. Swiftkill would snap Rylen's neck, smashing the windpipe and tearing out the esophagus, ending the raider's life in one split second. No way could the wolf dodge the attack if she did not leave beforehand, for escaping the jaws of a blackblood, let alone Swiftkill's, was a very difficult task. Even if she didn't die immediately, tearing at the throat in any way, shape, or form could prove very fatal in the near future. And then, tear-stained face, possibly with blood and entrails curling over the tongue, the female would let out a bark towards her daughter. "Itak!" Because to use the name everyone knew her by in enemy territory was too dangerous a game to play, "Call them back, please."It was time to leave. At such close quarters, his grip on her leg as flimsy as her own had been on his, jarring his teeth in his mouth as she ripped it free savagely, there was no chance to dodge the fangs that came for his face, but the brown wolf dog tried. He jerked back, pain lacing through and across his face as she connected, and just as swiftly brought teeth down onto his shoulder as he brought his forequarters away from her. His neck would have been caught if she hadn't sunk teeth into the lower part where his leg bent, but that placed her in a prime position for the Guard to lash forward and attempt to grab the back of her neck and sink teeth in there, a mirror image now to Swiftkill's own attack on Rylen. If he succeeded, Morning Glory would thrash her, rip up as much of the top of her neck as possible and hold her there. His fight was too evenly matched to gore her throat all around as Swift was trying to do to the other Alteron attacker, but if he got a grip on her, he'd not easily be disengaged. Perhaps it wasn't a fatality! but it would leave scars and she'd be hurting for her mistakes. Should she have let go and try to back away, he'd go for her head and face, using large, wide paws to grab and pull her face to his own so he could shred ears and muzzle, or at the very least, get in a few more good bloody wounds, his own on his foot, face, and shoulder bleeding and throbbing, somewhat hindering his vision, and he squinted out of one eye where the blood was trying to drip down into it. And then a voice cut through the din of battle, his ears swiveling for it though he didn't dare let eyes wander from his mark, especially if she was within his own grasp. "Itak! Call them back, please."His mother's name, called by his grandmother. Should they flee now, he'd need to disengage, or throw off this grey attacker of his. If he couldn't...they'd have to leave him behind, and he could not...no. Would not ask them to stay to save his hide. But that would come when it did. For now, his ears were alert for his Alpha's voice, waiting for the command to move. Collide was victorious then as her glittering saliva and blood coated teeth and fangs snapped in on the male's legs. It was always a gamble and it seemed that she'd gotten what she was aiming for. It was a little low on the leg and so as she jerked back in an attempt to rip up the leg even more, just for the sole purpose of messing up that leg enough to leave a nasty scar. That was quite possible, but what she gained in response was Morning Glory being able to grab her neck at the base of her shoulder. The thick fur there gave her some of a cushion but he still managed to bite down into the skin. It would not bleed much like this, however the Brute Raider wasn't interested in letting the male have her for too long. The brown male started thrashing around before she could get loose and so Collide was wounded. In the process of the thrashing her skin was ripped by the fangs and teeth of Morning Glory leaving several gashes. Collide began to calculate and when he went back and forth she timed it right and yanking back she would rip her neck from the blackblood at the easiest point, where the gashes had already been opened and the teeth were at the mid point between the ends of the cuts. Some more of the gashes would be ripped open even more though and she would be missing some skin in a few areas. She would be left with some pretty hefty scars from this but that wasn't the point of getting free. As she got free she would take no time and immediately the counter attack would begin by way of taking advantage of the fact that Morning Glory's head would likely be not in front of him, but perhaps slingshotted to one side by her pulling her neck loose in the middle of a thrash. Due to her being taller than him by a few she would lunge forward at the moment that she got her neck lose and attempt to catch his own neck in her jaws. Only for her she was more likely to get the side of his neck and some of the top. Returning the favor she would bite down as hard as possible and then jerk backwards while thrashing her head from side to side, attempting to rip a good chuck of skin and maybe flesh off the side of his neck in pay back. If she missed his neck she would recoil and then go for the face with her left paw coming up to smack into the side of his face or neck and raking forward with her claws. She would hope to cause some damage that way while she would snap at his face with her teeth again. The blood she was losing from her leg and neck was causing her some weakness, but not enough yet to severely impact her but a fight for too long and she'd be in trouble. It all depended on that blasted Swiftkill now. [just ask if you need clarification!] [quote author=Bloodrayne [RP] link=topic=36669.msg269361#msg269361 date=1306959358] A sadistic smile, the blood-stained teeth glittering in the bare but dim light of the forest, the blood of the Sentry potent against the assassin's black snout. Ray's hawk yellow eyes turned back to the unconscious timber who, had tried to slick away, had slipped away. With a snap of her jaws, her red-pink tongue lapping over her ivory fangs, she stepped forward to finish what she had started. But no, the wolf colored a dark and light gray she had seen before had stepped forward, over Brushfire, and soon lifted his head, "Stop. STOP." Her malicious grin vanished, her yellow eyes stared bitterly at the fallen prince of Alteron, and she did not stop as she continued for Brushfire. Step out of the way, tiny, Bloodrayne said to herself, her hackles raising, and her lips pulling back to reveal her blood-stained ivory fangs once again. He smelled of this jungle but was he on the side of the Blackbloods? If he was, why was he helping this tiny little weasel? But as the fallen prince lowered his head to stare at Brushfire, Bloodrayne stopped in her tracks and stared, confused at him. He nudged the unconscious timber, and he backed away, with pale blue eyes wide in horror, and then he looked about. He then approached Brushfire and tried to pull her up onto his form but he failed... miserably. Bloodrayne tilted her head to the side. Why was he helping her? If he was on their side, why was he helping an enemy? Was there even salvation for her... redemption for her? And she watched, the questions buzzing in her head, as he looked around, pleadingly, to everyone around him. " Help. Take her. TAKE HER." The fallen prince cried. And... what was this? Bloodrayne's gaze lightened. Was she feeling remorse? No, but this wolf, on her side, must hold something dear to the unconscious Alteron. Whatever it was, Ray couldn't end her life now... but she could offer her help, even how much she regretted to do so. She watched as Nightfrost rushed up to the Alteron prince and (depending whether or not Nightfrost got Ru on his back or Claymore helped him) Bloodrayne just watched. She was aware of the fighting, yes, but more aware of Claymore and Nightfrost. Bloodrayne would watch as the two struggled for the borders and then Ray turned her head to see who was in trouble. She saw the flash of emerald green eyes, the unkempt maroon coat, and her opponent - her small opponent. "No one will be left behind. Not while I am still breathing. Go. NOW." She had heard her aunt yell to Scythe, the brown princess... was she the sister of the gray boy? Bloodrayne shook it off, pulled back her lips in a throaty growl and lunged forward. If Rylen had missed Swiftkill's attack, Bloodrayne would jump in to be Swift's backup. Bloodrayne would rush, and using her weight over the two foot wolf-dog (where Ray was over two feet taller), she would try to push Rylen down and try to snap down at her neck. If she succeeded in grabbing Rylen's neck, she would snap her neck like Ray was close to doing with the little orange timber. When that task was completed, or if Rylen had missed and possibly run off, Bloodrayne would turn her head to Swiftkill, eyes sharp and hallow. "And you won't be left behind as long as I'm still breathing." She said to her aunt, and she hoped the aging Blackblood caught on to her message. Go on with Nightfrost and the others. We will back you all up. We, all will make it home.[/quote] |
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