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Post by Aftershock on Jun 3, 2012 11:29:11 GMT -4
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,500,true] | [atrb=background,http://i1189.photobucket.com/albums/z431/poshiloh/Hysteria/middle-1.png][scrolly:h(218),w(410),sy]
speech - thoughts - narrative
The day would seem to be coming to a close, with the shadows of the night tinting the sky in a purple haze, but it was welcomed gladly by the retriever who sat among the rubble of a burned down building, having made it miraculously to what was left of the second floor. The hard tile of what might have been a bathroom was slick from an earlier rainfall. It would have been easy for her to slip and fall off the edge, but she had not cared. Her life would end when the time was right, and she would not fear it. Everything came to an end, eventually; the day, the night, the life within any creature. It all would end. They may not want it to, and they may be afraid of it, but it did not matter. They had no control, no one did.
She closed her eyes for a moment as the warmth from the sun faded; a regular occurrence that was beginning to occur later and later, as it had since the start of this season. The cold night wind ruffled her fur, and her jaw opened slightly, taking in the scents it carried and enjoying the cooler breeze. Then, as if with a sudden purpose, she opened her eyes and stood, rapidly enough she could have easily had a paw or two slide and send her to her side, though this did not happen. One could call her lucky, though she knew it was no more a matter of luck than the fact she had simply corrected her footing fast enough that the slippery surface didn't do any harm this time around.
Slowly, steadily, she began her travels back across the tile to what minimal stairs there were, finding no point in moving swiftly. It would only cause her to slip more, and she didn't care if she arrived back at her shelter in the middle of the night. She was on her lonesome at the moment, but she liked it better that way. When she was alone, there was no one who would lie to her. She wasn't sure she could manage to live in a pack even if she tried, not after what had happened last time. The memory she tried so hard to keep locked away filtered through again, and she began ignoring where her paws were going, simply on autopilot.
'Now, now, what have we here? Little Fire's caught her first prey. I’m sure everyone will be just overjoyed.'
The large dog towered over her, still not full grown and small to begin with. But she'd had a fire inside her then, back before the brute broke her spirit. He’d fought her for nothing, teamed up on her with the rest of the pack. And what had hurt the most then, and still hurt now, were those two pairs of eyes, eyes that were entirely regular in every way, but she knew so well. Her mother and her father, the leaders, were simply standing there in the bushes, watching, hidden. She'd finally gotten away, sure, with her coat bloodied and torn nearly to shreds, but she didn't run to them. No, that was when she ran away, and she could hear them calling after her, yelling the truths that they had lied about. If she could not trust them, she knew, she could not trust anyone.
There was more, of course there was, but pain brought her out of it as her paw slid from under her, throwing her off balance and sending her flat against the tile, sliding along the slanted ground and tumbling down the stairs, softly yelping at the sudden, unexpected pain that flared through her ribs and her front right ankle. Probably just bruised, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt like hell for the moment. Rather than fight to get up, Vitae merely laid her head down on a charred piece of wood, closing her eyes to catch her breath, and to push the memories away again, before they returned, repeatedly, with more vivid details each and every time, as they tended to do.
open ...tagged seven hundred ...words --- ...playlist --- ...notes
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Post by tarnishedcopper on Jun 3, 2012 16:01:06 GMT -4
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=background,http://i47.tinypic.com/scfebb.jpg][atrb=cellPadding,25,true] What Doesn't kill you, makes you stronger. |
[/size][/center][/b]Sinister's pale honey gold eyes bored holes into the darkening expanse of the sky. He stood that way for some time; head tipped back, legs straight, stiff, expression hard, tail tucked neatly between his legs. Finally, finally, the male lowered his head, staring straight ahead, faint smirk crossing his maw as he took one step forward, and then another, his pawsteps near silent against the ground, tail returning to its normal position level with his back, if a little higher. No one would have been able to say that he had been so solemn before, for his expression now was full of a prankster's spirit, no trace of such solemnity on his features. He didn't have the care in the world to dwell upon the past. Why should he? Nothing really mattered to him, he was free. He moved forward once more, taking in the sight of the abandoned, lonely buildings standing like fallen sentinels, guarding the remains of a once lovely place. His molten gaze drifted lazily over the burned and charred buildings, no doubt an end product of the humans culls. It filled him with regret that the disease served as so threatening that the humans had burned house after house, body after body. But then, how much different was it than the infamous hydrophobia, or rabies? Rabies killed, and killed. Or so he had heard from his elders, storytellers passing their legends down from generation to generation. Sin had always had a flare for the dramatic, so, naturally, he was the one who told stories, stories he had heard from his elders, stories he had heard from those younger than he. It mattered not their age, if they had something good to say, he would listen. The Northern Inuit Dog picked up the pace, head high. Sinister gave a soft bark of laughter when the night wind ruffled his thick, heavy fur. The sun set, taking with it the torturous, murderous rays of light that so made his day retched. The male spotted a building ahead, nondescript as far as the other buildings went, but one thing was different, the silhouette of another dog, sitting atop the remains, or, what remained of the second floor. He watched as the canine stood suddenly, appearing to slip a bit, and then disappeared deeper within the house, and his eyes filled with curiosity. What dog was brave, or stupid enough to climb such a rickety building? He wished he could find them, commend them for such a feat. The brute started forward once more, heading towards the building, not rushing, but also not taking his time, for if he caught up to the canine, that was good, if not, too bad. He slowed upon reaching the remains of the door, and then padded inside, shoving through a gap, the edges of charred and scarred wood scraping his pelt, but all it did was tear some fur out, no big loss as far as he was concerned. Sin heard a yelp of pain, and he couldn't help but grin slightly. So the risky endeavor had finally caught up with the daredevil. He proceeded, and happened upon the prone form of a female, and upon closer inspection, she was alive, and seemed to be the one from the upper levels of the building. Rather than encroach upon her personal space, he backed up slightly, and then sat back on his haunches, head cocked to the side. "Are you alright?" He asked, his carefully orchestrated pranksters smile in place. Words: 586[/div][/td][/tr][/table][/center][/size]
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Post by Aftershock on Jun 3, 2012 16:51:49 GMT -4
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,500,true] | [atrb=background,http://i1189.photobucket.com/albums/z431/poshiloh/Hysteria/middle-1.png][scrolly:h(218),w(410),sy]
speech - thoughts - narrative
Flopped ears perked up a bit at the faint sound of footsteps, though they never raised off the sides of her head - it was simply not in her breed's capacity to do so. Her closed eyes shot open, their deep blue appearing black as she scanned the early night's dusky lighting. And there, amid the gloom, was a flash of white and some darker color, though twilight made it difficult to tell just what that color was. Even as the canine pulled closer and spoke, a soft growl slipped free and she shifted her aching body to its feet.
What's it matter to you?
Her voice was cold and harsh, not in the mood for games - one might go so far as to call it bitter, in fact. She shifted to brace her feet more firmly, head rising proudly, a small snarl still flashing in the darkness. She wasn't attacking, though - no, this wasn't aggression at all. This was undeniably a defensive reaction, as any might expect from a wounded animal. The only difference was, this didn't come from her being wounded. At least, not her physical wounds.
As she placed her weight equally on all four paws, though, she instantly regretted it. Pain shot through her ankle again and her right leg stiffened, a forced locking of her joints to keep her from letting it shoot off the ground, a soft whine bottled within where no one would hear it. The leg shook though, until she became accustomed to the pain enough to loosen the tense way with which she'd stubbornly pressed it into the ground. The weight on it was near non-existent a moment later, though she never brought the paw up off the ground. It was a show of weakness she wouldn't let herself show.
With a gruff exhalation, she set off towards the opening she had used to get in, trying to hide the limp as best she could, though her cautious eyes never left him, her attention never wavering even once. Like hell she was falling prey to false securities, such as someone caring - she knew better now. No one in this world cared, and no one ever would. It was a cruel reality that most didn't face, but she had had no choice and now she prided herself on the recognition of this fact of life - the fact that the only one you could ever trust was yourself.
It's a terrible shelter, but if you want it, it's yours.
sinister ...tagged four twenty seven ...words cut by plumb; sober by pink; missing by evanescence ...playlist ...yeah. tough nut to crack. she enjoys being difficult ...notes
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Post by tarnishedcopper on Jun 3, 2012 18:30:20 GMT -4
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=background,http://i47.tinypic.com/scfebb.jpg][atrb=cellPadding,25,true] What Doesn't kill you, makes you stronger. |
[/size][/center][/b]Upon hearing the soft defensive growl from the female, Sinister grinned, but didn’t back down, not even as she shifted to her feet. “What's it matter to you?” She asked, her voice cold, harsh, nearly bitter. He shrugged, the movement a rolling of his muscled shoulders, and gave a crooked, mischievous grin. “What’s it not matter to me? Is it so hard to believe in curiosity, chere?” He asked, chuckling, though if one listened close enough, or even watched close enough, there was a brittle quality to everything, every sound, look, and smile. But it was hard to see, because he was a great actor. Great enough that hardly anyone ever knew him. He tilted his head slightly, still grinning that crooked grin. The fae shifted slightly, head raised proudly, a snarl echoing in the darkness. “Easy, chere, I’m not gonna steal your cookies.” He said with a laugh, eyes glinting with amusement. The brute still didn’t back down. Backing down wasn’t in his itinerary, not now, not ever. The male shook his head slightly, lifting to his paws, stretching out a bit, his tail swishing faintly, before settling back into position raised slightly above his back. He shifted his gaze around the room, molten gaze darkening slightly, to a more dark honey gold color, before he turned back to the female, his gaze still holding that innate curiosity, and a bit of respect, more out of generality, and the way she didn’t trust him immediately. Trust killed. The Northern Inuit dog noticed how when she settled her weight onto all four paws, her hind leg stiffened, though she made no outward sign of pain. He couldn’t think it easy to take a fall and show no sign of pain, though it was commendable. The brute smiled easily, his ears swiveling a bit at the sound of a bird flying overhead of the building, before turning to face the female once more. With a gruff exhalation, the femme set off towards an opening she had apparently used before, her cautious gaze never leaving him. Despite her efforts, his keen gaze caught the slightest, and by slightest barely existent, sign of a limp. So the fall she had taken had hurt. “It's a terrible shelter, but if you want it, it's yours.” She said, and he laughed outright, not at her, though, but at the thought. Sinister, still chuckling, turned and pinned her with his molten gaze. “Nah, chere, I only wanted to commend the canine who had made it up to the second floor of this rickety old building, and it seems you’re the one who has done as such. I don’t desire for shelter. At least, not shelter built, designed, formerly occupied, or touched by humans. They disgust me.” He said, his grin turning bitter for a moment, before it was gone in a flash, and he didn’t expect her to have seen it. “I’m Sinister, by the way, but if you’d like, you can call me Sin. Not that I care either way, since you won’t trust me, and I don’t expect you to. Not only that, but I’m sure you wish to be rid of me. It’s a true shame I wasn’t born a people pleaser like my elder brother. Such a shame.” Sin said, his tone mocking towards the end, but in a sarcastic, pessimistic, joking way. If that made sense. Which it probably didn’t. Sin was, well, Sin. Words: 573[/div][/td][/tr][/table][/center][/size]
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Post by Aftershock on Jun 3, 2012 21:32:42 GMT -4
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,500,true] | [atrb=background,http://i1189.photobucket.com/albums/z431/poshiloh/Hysteria/middle-1.png][scrolly:h(218),w(410),sy]
speech - thoughts - narrative
She snorted at his response to her question - well, now, wasn't he a character and a half. The problem was, character did nothing for her, and if anything, his merely made her more suspicious. It didn't help that he was larger than her and she was injured - it was a situation far too familiar, even if the injuries were minor. Perhaps he wasn't using it to hide malicious intent - but she didn't care to stick around and find out. She ignored him, though, still refusing to answer his initial question.
She froze as he turned down the shelter, though, head whipping to look at him. Humans disgusted him? At least what they were doing was to protect their own. Perhaps they were turning on friends to do so, but did that matter? Was family not supposed to be more important? Another soft growl slipped out with unbidden words.
They are hardly the only monsters in this world.
Unlike him, she didn't bother to hide the bitterness in the statement - no, hiding it would be a lie, and to lie was a terrible thing. To lie was to do as his offered nickname suggested - to sin. And to lie lead to hurt, and hurt - well, hurt led to this life of hers. It had all started with simple white lies, and look where she'd landed. A victim, battered, broken and bruised - nothing more, nothing less. She wasn't suicidal - she would never try to take her own life - but her regard for life had long since gone out the window. Honestly, the way she lived, it wasn't life at all - no, it was mere existence. She looked away again as she slid through the gap in the wall, tossing a few more words over her shoulder.
If you think offering your own name will get you mine, think again, Sin. Even your name inspires distrust, let alone the dramatics you've got going. Lies and acts are no way to live. They only hurt everyone else in the end.
The footing, though, was far from ideal - even as she finished, she slid - and then hiding the pain wasn't possible for a moment as her injured leg crashed right into a solid two by four. She bolted the last few steps through the hole, whimpering softly and hopping to avoid putting weight on the paw - so much for just a bruise, that was definitely twisted, and twisted badly, even if she'd denied it the second she'd first put weight on it. She twisted, turned to face the hole again warily, paw hovering precariously above the ground as she cowered back, tail tucked down between her legs - she was vulnerable, after all. It was open enough to run, and she'd run through the pain if she had to, but she'd just watch for now - watch and pray she was wrong, that he had no ill intent towards her at all.
sinister ...tagged four ninety nine ...words sober by pink; cut by plumb; far from home by five finger death punch ...playlist --- ...notes
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Post by tarnishedcopper on Jun 4, 2012 22:32:16 GMT -4
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=background,http://i47.tinypic.com/scfebb.jpg][atrb=cellPadding,25,true] What Doesn't kill you, makes you stronger. |
[/size][/center][/b]Sinister smiled when the female snorted as his response, and he stretched himself out, shaking out his fur, and trying to get the kinks from his joints. He wasn’t as young as he used to be, still in his prime, yes, but not as young. So therefore, sitting still for long amounts of time got his joints to stiffen, harden, and most of all, hurt. Part of the reason why he rarely was still. He grinned when the fae ignored him, and he moved on, unfazed, not bothered. When she froze, he paused, and watched as her head whipped around to look at him, a soft growl slipping out with her words. “They are hardly the only monsters in this world.” She said, and he nodded, acknowledging this fact. “True, chere, true. But in my world, humans are my demons.” Sin said, shrugging as if he didn’t have a care in the world. In her statement, the male caught her bitterness, clearly she wasn’t hiding it, and he didn’t blame her. To be honest was a nice thing. The Northern Inuit Male smiled faintly, and shrugged again, rolling his shoulders before taking a few steps forward, not towards the female, but just to move. The female looked away as she slipped through the gap, tossing her words over her shoulder. “If you think offering your own name will get you mine, think again, Sin. Even your name inspires distrust, let alone the dramatics you've got going. Lies and acts are no way to live. They only hurt everyone else in the end.” At her words, he chuckled a bit, and slipped through after her, and then moved out of her way, more because she was defensive in stance, and he had no desire to fight. “I don’t think offering my name will get me anything. It is merely telling you who I am. Just as I am Sin, I am no one. Let my name imply distrust. For most don’t care to look beyond the name, so be it. I may lie, but I don’t act. I act to keep others out, to keep the demons from getting in. My acts have never hurt anyone, but my lies have. Oh, have they. But look at me, see that my lack of remorse is no act, for I have no regret, because the demons I gave my lies deserved them in the utmost way, in fact, I should have torn their throats out like the vermin they were, but the disease killed them for me. Pity.” Sin said, looking away, his gaze dark, brooding, angry with past memories. Words: 437[/div][/td][/tr][/table][/center][/size]
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Post by Aftershock on Jun 8, 2012 11:26:29 GMT -4
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,500,true] | [atrb=background,http://i1189.photobucket.com/albums/z431/poshiloh/Hysteria/middle-1.png][scrolly:h(218),w(410),sy]
speech - thoughts - narrative
Her eyes followed him warily, but he moved away - good. She didn't lighten up entirely, but her tail did raise slightly, as did her head. She was still ready to run - or limp - away as fast as she could should he try anything, her eyes wary as always. As he admitted to being a liar - not that she'd had any doubt, everyone lied - her lips curled up in a silent show of distaste.
They may have hurt those that deserve it thus far, but in the end they hurt everyone - the guilty and the innocent alike.
Her lips fell back over her teeth again as she spoke and stayed there. Her injured paw fell back to the ground, lightly touching down - testing it, really. A little weight it could bear, at least, before pain flared up, but it wasn't broken - that was her only consolation now. It would hurt, but she could run on it without doing too much more damage, if she had to. She was beginning to doubt she'd have to run, at least - though, heaven knows when she'd get rid of this canine if she didn't.
And everyone wonders why the world went to hell and never bounced back.
A a disdainful bark of a laugh, quiet and no long than a split second in length, slipped out of her mouth then. Everyone wondered - but she knew. She couldn't explain the appearance of the virus, but the fact that conditions had never gotten better, that was explained easily enough, at least in her mind.
Greed, hatred, envy and lies. they get in the way and no one can stand together; and so, we all fall. Humans and dogs alike - and everything in between.
Perhaps she was too young to make such statements with such conviction; with such certainty. Except, as young as she was in years, she'd grown up fast the second she hit a year old - being hunted by your own family did that, she supposed. She'd come to have strong opinions - and a strong sense of independence, a need to be alone. She wasn't saying she wasn't part of the problem - but she knew she wouldn't be if only her trust hadn't been shattered. As it was, she was one of those loner who looked out solely for herself, and that would never help - but, she wasn't sure she wanted to help. The world had gotten this way for a reason, and maybe it was time everything started anew; without everyone that was currently struggling to survive, herself included.
sinister ...tagged four thirty eight ...words haunted by disturbed; missing by evanescence; sober by pink; lithium by evanescence ...playlist eep! sorry it took so long! ...notes
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Post by tarnishedcopper on Jun 8, 2012 13:30:59 GMT -4
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=background,http://i47.tinypic.com/scfebb.jpg][atrb=cellPadding,25,true] What Doesn't kill you, makes you stronger. |
[/size][/center][/b]Sinister noticed how the female’s eyes watched him, wary. When he moved away she seemed to relax slightly, tail lifting subtly, head lifting as well. But only so much that he could just barely discern the movement. This female interested him. Not physically, not in that way at all, but more intellectually. Her view on things was…fascinating. She seemed to not mind humans, and yet she hated liars and the guilty. He was both. Pity. Despite her slight loosening, her eyes remained wary, and for that, he applauded her, mentally, of course. He grinned in response to the curling of her lips, showing her dislike. “They may have hurt those that deserve it thus far, but in the end they hurt everyone - the guilty and the innocent alike.” She said, her lips falling back over her teeth. The fae lowered her injured paw to the ground, seeming to put some weight on it before stopping. Almost as if guessing at the direction of her thoughts, or more assuming, Sin chuckled, grinning. ”True enough.” He conceded, still grinning faintly as his svelte tail curled slightly at the tip, swaying. ”And everyone wonders why the world went to hell and never bounced back.” The femme said, with a disdainful barking laugh, lasting no more than a few moments. ”I don’t care where the world went to, in all honesty. Because this world has been hell to me for a long time. So I suppose it’s only natural I shouldn’t mind the change.” Sinister said thoughtfully, his tone actually truthful as he sat back on his haunches, tipping his head back to gaze at the starry stretch of darkness. He wondered just how many stars there were out there. Would there ever be a chance of escape from this disease ridden planet? Not in his lifetime. This much he knew. ”Greed, hatred, envy and lies. They get in the way and no one can stand together; and so, we all fall. Humans and dogs alike - and everything in between.” She said, and he smiled faintly, thinking how sad it was that a younger female could know such things already. ”And so we fall.” He echoed, uncharacteristically somber before he turned away, molten eyes glittering with something like remorse. The Northern Inuit Dog drew in a deep breath, his gaze blanking for a moment as he looked down at his paws, and then turned slightly, gazing over at the stranger, his pale honey gold eyes still holding that remorse, that regret, sadness, and pain. Words: 422[/div][/td][/tr][/table][/center][/size]
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