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Other Half.

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Other Half.

Post by Zigan on Tue 15 Aug 2017, 17:23

"Why do you forsake me... after all I have done, everything I've suffered. You turn your back on me now, like some dog!"
The words echo's from wall to wall, a shout into the darkness bouncing around only to fall upon deaf ears.
"How could you do this!?"
Screams into the empty, nothing but the heavy splashes of rain drops upon the city streets answering him.

The streets were running red and soon they would be coming, dozens of them and they would kill him for sure this time. The rage was fading now, even the crippling panic seemed to be abating. Pain was on it's way, a hammer waiting to obliterate him into nothing but dust.
Thirteen bodies lay at his back, thirteen humans, each one killed as brutally as the next, each carrying a message. Zigan had received his own message from the very soldiers he had slaughtered and despite the fact they all now lay there departed from the world he was the one broken, they had destroyed him and now even the Archangel Michael who had been his companion has turned away, the killing to filled with hatred for him to condone.

Shaking he looked down to his hands. The soldiers had delivered him a gift, a warning. He looked upon it, a perfect heart. The heart of the one he had loved, now cold and lifeless. His reward for trying to give his kind a safe passage out of Ox Corporation territory. All he had fought for, each thing he had over come fell into oblivion, all of it pointless suffocating hopelessness descended washing everything away in it's wake.

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Re: Other Half.

Post by Syzygy on Thu 17 Aug 2017, 11:26




B E N J A M I N . N E K I S H U
f a t h e r || a l p h a || e l e m e n t a l
p r o f i l e


"Power should only be given to those willing to lower themselves to pick it up."

The fire snapped audibly and startled the wolf into attention. A massive head was raised swiftly and emerald eyes scanned the area cautiously. The skin between the shoulders and at the base of the neck tensed in brief confusion, threatening the heckles to rise in sharp points; but it was quickly washed away upon the realisation of the castle.
Benjamins body was warm in the flames as they tickled at his fur, running fingers gently through to caress the skin beneath. His jaws opened widely to yawn and the front legs were stretched so at it knocked some embers from the hearth. The noise caused his ears to prick at ends and orbs to scan the remnants which were scatter on the stone. His gaze swept the floor to the bed where He had left Kara and he smiled inwardly, getting to his feet. He felt wonderful, it was the best he had felt since escaping from the Laboratory. The brute had no idea how long he'd slept, nor did he care.
He jumped upon the bed ready to wake his sleeping lover by instead found the note.
He read it's contents, the feeling of sunshine in his breast swiftly fading as worry filled its place.
She's gone to find the others; and without him. A soft burner escaped his lips akin to a whine and in a breath of snapping and distorting, a man now knelt where the wolf had been.
The Shon of Mousey brown hair adorned his head in a messy array and he was nude.
He leapt across the bed and snatched his clothes from the wardrobe.
Ever since he had escaped the Laboratory he'd kept a stash of clothes here at Castle Blackthorne; it was their base now having lost their pack lands.
Within a minute he was dressed, and he ran out of the room still zipping his jeans.

Shadrack was downstairs with a smorgasbord of food for them, it was too much in all honesty, but he knew that Blade had an insatiable appetite and the man was use to serving his King.
He thanked the butler as proline as he could while shoving copious amounts of crossaints, cheeses, fruits and some weird shadow realm meat into his bag before racing through the portal and into the broom closet of the Pawn-Shop. The hideout chosen to harbour the secret portal.
---
Once he had reached the store front and burst through the doors, he stopped outside. Mouth ajar he sniffed the air making no effort to hide it, looking for her scent. People looked at the strange man but he ignored them well.
The sweet smell was easily recognised among the stench of city life as he turned upon his heal to head East. The stagnant scent of Blades leather coat was in the air too, though it was weak.
He had no idea where this would take him, but he needed to find his family, and he needed to find them now.

"Speech."
Thoughts.
Art/Code by Eclipse- Do not use without permission!

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Re: Other Half.

Post by Zigan on Thu 17 Aug 2017, 12:21

Time was precious now not that he could have cared even if he wanted to but it moved swiftly by and with it the window for his escape was rapidly depleting. Yet he could not take his eyes from the organ he now held within the palms of his hands, his eyes lost in the sight of it as tears swam within them, the scent of his mate thick upon it.
Nammia had been his anchor for a long time now, holding him from drifting away into the depths she had pulled him from and now she was gone. Michael was silent, he was alone.

Thoughts came and went in a haze but one persisted eventually cracking through the grief. The others still needed him, the ones he had left back in the place he called home. He had provided them with a safe haven and promised he would protect them. He had come back to Arcane and the surrounding cities to help his old family and to offer them sanctuary. If he were to allow his demise now at the hands of the ones that had ripped the love of his life away from him all of it would have been for nothing. All of the blood shed would have been in vein and he could not let that happen.

Closing one hand around the heart he tore away a length of his shirt with the other. Quickly wrapping the organ up he placed it in his fortunately baggy trouser-ed pockets before he rose to his feet looking for a way out, his feet carrying him quickly away from the scene of the crime and the sound of back up well on it's way.

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Re: Other Half.

Post by Cyndle on Sat 19 Aug 2017, 01:11

Swirls of orange and blue mixed within her optics as they peered down at the corpse beneath her, scythe in hand she gazed on silently with confusion and agitation a clear mask on her face. It had been some time that Cyndle had been traveling on her own, fleeing the memories her old home held, the pain of losing her grandmother ever present in her cold heart. Death wasn't something unusual or taboo for Cyn, it was as familiar as the home she grew up in but the distance between her and her only loved one was the cause of the pit in her stomach. See, it seemed that when one of her kind perished, it was harder to get to conjure them as opposed to the souls of others. No, instead shinigami would pass to another realm entirely because you couldn't have Death Spirits mixing with the dead spirits, that could only cause for some confusion. Her grandmother had lived for thousands of years and she took her death in stride but Cyndle was less then thrilled for her grandmother to go off to eternal vacation. One day she would see her again, but as she was only in her early twenties she had what seemed like a millennia and a half to go. She let out a sigh and brought her thought back to the surface and and the situation at hand, why had this man attached her?
 Kneeling down, with no regard to the general squeamishness that most people had with the dead, she placed her hand over his broad face, eyes mixing in a tornado of color as the mans life flashed before her. The trick was something of an inheritance, coming with her duties and lineage. All she needed to do was touch, and the dead's memories would come rushing back to her like a book being read on fast forward. She watched a tough upbringing with strict parents, a lonely teen who eventually signed up for something called the Oxen Corporation in a last ditch effort to please his father. "What is this Oxen Corporation? Cyn thought, prodding deeper into the depths of the mans life. The flashes of wolves being slaughtered along with what she took as other supernaturals, being locked in cells for experiments only to be discarded later. Reeling back, Cyndle decided she didn't feel for this man and the passing of his mortal life, and as his soul stood there with confusion written on his pale face she placed judgement quickly.
 Standing up, she turned to look at the spirit that seemed to almost cower in fear from her cold gaze. "So, you slaughter creatures based on what species they were born into? Does that seem right to you?" she asked, leaning her weight on the scythe that was easily 3 feel taller then her, with its blade extending far beyond what any normal weapon should. Ranging in almost 4 ft itself, the cold steel glistened as it hummed with power. Her head rested against its shaft and thick locks of raven black hair cascaded over her shoulder while uncaring eyes bore into the soul. "Had you been a better person then maybe you wouldn't have met your end by meeting me, as your last encounter." she said, her voice eerie as she talked in an almost sing song tune. In a swift fluid movement, the scythe was twirled around and the blade slashed a cut in the ground, opening the gates to the underworld.
 Cyndle extended her arm to the hole, ushering him inside. "Alrighty, Go on, you're dead. You reached the end of the road and messed with the wrong supernatural. I have to go track down this organization you belong to as they seem to have some..."She stopped for a moment, as if considering her words. "Some idea's that should be addressed." Cyn finished, giving him a condescending smile. The man was hesitant as if in disbelief, which was something that Cyndle got from time to time, but this man had hiy a nerve and she would not baby him for his own mistake. With an exasperated sigh, she strode to the man and grabbed him by the astral form of his shirt with the tip of her scythe. "I gave you the opportunity to go on your own, but noooo, lets not be easy about anything today shall we?" She said, her tone showing obvious annoyance as she pulled him toward the hole and yanked him into it, looking bored as he seemed to stumble and scream his way into the underworld.
 The hole closed as quickly as it had opened, leaving Cyndle standing there with a blank look on her face as if nothing happened. With a poof, the scythe was gone and she was left back in silence. "Well this place doesn't seem too welcoming.." she said, dusting off her hands and throwing a stray lock of hair back behind her shoulder. "I suppose I dont have anything better to do then see whats going on." The words were said with a shrug as she made her way into what looked like a rough part of a city. The streets were dirty and people were sparce, the place giving off the stench that death in a place like this only could. She was walking with no general direction before something sparked at the back of her mind, a pulling that was a known feeling, a large number of people had died. As a Shinigami, this perked her interest and pulled her into the direction her internal senses pointed. It wasn't long before she turned the corner so see the display of bodies. They were all grotesquely dead, their blood washing over her black boots as she stepped closer.
 All in uniform, she recognized them from the man who's life she had taken earlier, a small smile forming on her lips. The source of their death seemed to be a large bellowing man in the center, but just as she arrived he seemed to run off after ripping at his clothes for some reason she didn't understand. Hand opening, her scythe appeared once again she followed the same routine of ushering the lost and confused off to their eternal afterlife. Just finishing her duties, the sound of boot surrounding her caused her to turn around to a dozen men with guns pointed in her direction. "Well, what have I gotten myself into.." She sighed as if in peril, but the smile creeping on her lips was a hint that something was off. The team took little time to assess the bodies and  the girl with the large scythe and jump to conclusions but before they could pull the triggers, she was gone in a ghostly wisp.
 Cyndle wanted answers, she wanted to know more about this army like group and the ones they seemed to hunt. The wolf in her growled as she remembered the distinct memory from the soldier earlier, the wolf that was killed on spot for just being what she was. Ghosting through the streets debated on trailing the stranger to ask him questions that she had, but no one was inclined to provide her anything. So instead, she followed as an apparition to see if he would divulge information without knowing.
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Re: Other Half.

Post by Syzygy on Mon 21 Aug 2017, 13:07




B E N J A M I N . N E K I S H U
f a t h e r || a l p h a || e l e m e n t a l
p r o f i l e


"Power should only be given to those willing to lower themselves to pick it up."

The narrow alleys of Arcane seemed the safer route for now, it seemed that today, the streets were teeming with Oxen Men. He grumbled inwardly and kept to the shadows as best he could. Fingers curled tightly around the satchel over the shoulder and the right shoulder flicked up to readjust the sitting position.
Keeping his back close to the wall, Benjamin made sure to check the corners before taking them and still he followed the scent of Kara closely. Nose in the air he was glad she had taken the back streets to... Where ever she was going. A hand slipped inside his pocket and he pulled a crumpled piece of paper from within and read it once more in his mind, Karas voice forcing itself from the paper -

"Blaze,
 I hope when you read this you are feeling better, I am going to go out and look for Blade, Alleria and Tate as i fear they could be in the same danger we found you to be in last night. Please stay here and rest, I will return as soon as possible. If something comes up, call me-5485681002 
P.S.-I'm sorry for the past, I wanted to tell you in person but incase I dont make it back for a while just know that I really am sorry. Thank you for looking past my indiscretions.
Love,
Kara

A sigh fell past his lips, one that spoke of agitation and worry. He never had a phone, he didn't believe in this technology thing. So he needed to find one of those phone boxes. He had some change in his pocket, and prayed to the gods that it was enough.
As he made his way around the corner, his emerald eye caught uon a young woman with hair like a raven. For a brief second Benjamin was sure it was his former mate; “It can't be.
When the woman turned his disbeliefs were confirmed and upon instinct he slid back behind the wall to conceal himself. Back against the bricks, he peeked around the corner and watched her curiously for a moment.
He had been so caught up in who he thought it might be that he realized then that he hadn't seen the huge weapon in her hand. She couldn't be from Oxen, but then, who knew. He watched her as she seemingly spoke to herself. The brutes eyes narrowed in scepticism but he remained hidden; but the tell tale sound of thick boots against stone was cause for attention. Shit. Came the unbidden thought, he slipped back into the darkness of the alley and lay his head against the wall. He couldn't leave her to fend herself against the soldiers.
Teeth clenched tightly in the mouth before he dare look once more only to see the woman disappear, leaving the Oxen Soldiers bewildered but on edge. Great.
For a long minute he stood, back against the wall, eyes closed and ears attentive. He listened with short deliberate breath, measured so as not to disturb his hearing.
Slowly, the soldiers dispersed into the streets and Benjmain emerged from the alley, quickly walking towards the docks.

"Speech."
Thoughts.
Art/Code by Eclipse- Do not use without permission!

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Re: Other Half.

Post by Zigan on Thu 31 Aug 2017, 10:47

Long had he been known for his speed and his tracking abilities, in fact in some parts he had been renowned for them. They had always been his constant, his crutch. When life got hard he would run and burn into an existence all his own. It had never failed him but as the years went on he had learned that he had to rely on other things. He had learned to rely upon his love and his trust for Nammia. He could navigate anything with her at his side. Every awful thing that had happened she would sooth over and he would do the same for her. Now she was gone and he ran. He ran the way he always did hoping that at some point it would all cease to matter but that moment didn't come. His lovers heart burned painfully within his hand as he clutched it, acutely aware that it would never beat again.

He was distracted and distraught. The only reason Nammia had returned was because he had wanted to, needed to. He wanted to try and offer passage to his old family, he wanted to save them and save his kind but they had one by one turned from him, rejecting his offer and now Nammia was dead. She had died for nothing and he only had him self to blame.

Entering a street lined with bait shops and fishing equipment stores he didn't miss a beat, not slowing yet not paying attention. Another mistake.

A single soldier was also upon the street, separated from the rest of his men he was scouting the area.Reporting back any findings he made.

The soldier's gaze fell upon Zigan the same moment that Zigan saw him.
Out of his mind with rage Zigan sprinted across the street towards the man, his hands out stretching to lift him violently by his throat, fingers crushing the structure beneath them until the human's eyes began to roll back into his head, bloody froth forming at his mouth.

His anger had blinded him, he failed to pay attention to the hands of the dying man which had free's a grenade from it's belt. The pin hit the ground, the sound of it ringing in Zigan's ears a split second before detonation. Both bodies lifted clean off the ground, thrown in opposite directions a spray of blood and flesh raining down upon the streets.

Zigan flew backwards his back slamming through the double glazed store front of a closed cafe, glass shattering all around him shredding through flesh and muscle with ease.
Impacting against the serving tables they toppled, two completely shattering wood and metal hurled across the room, one of the metal table legs puncturing straight his torso splintering the collar bone.

Numb... just the feel of the heart within his hand. Burning in its stillness. It was the only thing that mattered now. And it was his fault.

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Re: Other Half.

Post by Cyndle on Fri 01 Sep 2017, 04:56

Her ghostly form moved silently behind the distressed man as he made his way away from the scene he'd run from. She wasn't sure why this all interested her as much as it did, but it wasn't often that her or her grandmother traveled away from home aside from performing their duties and why the hell not? "Maybe I can take down this group of murderers and be some masked hero...no, that's stupid I don't even know there people. I REALLY just need to go find me a bar and have a damn drink." She pondered, though the thought was quickly followed by the flashbacks of wolves being experimented on and killed. A loud huff was accompanies with an eye roll as she hated herself for having a conscious. "This is stupid, death shouldn't be able to feel bad about shit." Cyn basically pouted, though her thoughts were quickly pulled back to her temporarily stalking.


Cyndle watched the silent exchange between the uniformed man but it only lasted a second before the man she was following sprinted across the street faster then she had expected. Eyebrows shot for a a brief time as the life from the man drained from his body, hand automatically opening as the scythe appeared. "He's on a roll..." Cyndle mused, but she was starting to wonder why he was on such a killing spree this night. Sensitive ears heard the medal 'clink' on the pavement that followed up with an explosion that was deafening and made her cover her eyes. In this form the shrapnel passed through her as she stood there blinking. "What the hell..." her voice was audible to her and would have been audible to anyone sensitive enough that was near by though the explosion seemed to cure that problem.


As the light died and the dust and smoked whirled around in the air, debris littering the ground all around, Cyndle walked toward the scene, looking for the first soul to escort to the afterlife. Sobbing was heard only to her as the ghostly form of the uniformed man stood off to the side, making himself the first customer. It was as if her body faded into a solid form, eyes swirling as her power connected with the power of her scythe. He hadn't paid attention to her until Cyn made to within feet of the man, clearing her throat to bring his attention to her. "Congrats, you're dead and that was a helluva way to go out. Let me get you on to the next, no need to waste any time as i'm a busy woman." She bantered, dragging the tip of her scythe on the ground and opening the portal. "After you.." She said, with no intentions to follow. They would get him sorted, she was busy with this.


Turning around she looked for the soul, assuming the explosion had killed the other man but her search turned up nothing. There was no pull at the back of her mind that urged her to escort anyone. "He must have lived." She said with only the slightest sound of interest coming through her usually flat and bored tone. Boots crunched gravel and debris as she moved toward a storefront that had a large man sized hole in it. Face scrunching she felt a small sense of sympathy. "that's gotta suck..". Glass was now heard in place of gravel as she walked to the window and used her scythe to break the remaining glass so she wouldn't get cut. Inside the man lay thrown across the room in an obviously bad state. "Oh dude, I dunno if I can help you with this one..." Cyn said softly, as if more to her self while eyes lingered on the table leg sticking out of his body.


Slowly she approached to stand over him, looking over his battered form. "Ugh, I don't 'Do' living, I deal with dead...this is beyond me." She almost growled but knowing she couldn't morally leave him Cyndle knelt down to see if he was conscious. "Hey, can you hear me? Are you with us?" She asked, biting her lip as she also pondered how to get that table leg out without causing more damage.
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Re: Other Half.

Post by Syzygy on Sun 03 Sep 2017, 14:07




B E N J A M I N . N E K I S H U
f a t h e r || a l p h a || e l e m e n t a l
p r o f i l e


"Power should only be given to those willing to lower themselves to pick it up."

Gulls stood idly in the street, picking at the remains of a sandwich that was mouldy in the paper. The stench filled is nostrils like a sour pang, causing his nose to crease in disgust. His brows furrowed upon ignoring the smell, pulling deeper. He was never much of a tracker, he did have a keen sense of smell as any canine does, but it had never been his strong suit. He was made for different things.
The soft soles of his shoes made little sound upon the road, but as he descended down the hill, his feet began to pound a little harder. The docks were in view now and he was surprised to see a pile of corpses scattered upon the ground. Instantly he stopped. There was no one around and so he knew it was a fresh scene; he was obviously upwind as he could not catch the scent of blood but the crimson liquid was all around. Eyes shone like emeralds in the sun light as they scanned the area. His breathing lagged, become almost silent as he listened intently for any signs of people around.
Nothing.
A tongue slipped past lips that had gone dry and without a moment more hesitation he sprinted down the hill and to the pile. A familiar smell assaulted him immediately and he crouched to examine the dead. Even the deepest reaches of his mind prayed that Zigan was not among them. His scent was strong, almost over powering. He checked the bodies one by one, until there were none. Some of hem were beyond recognition, but their scents were there own. His friend was not here. An audible sigh past through his lips and he raised, eyes scanning the area with a deft accuracy.
Standing among the men, he had a clear smell of Zigan. He ran in the direction of the smell, following the scent trail as best he could. The wind was not in favour today, but it hadn't completely disappeared and before too long, two figures came into view a few hundred feet away. He couldn't ake them out but he knew that one was Zigan – and boy, was he in a rage. Benjamins lips pulled together in a hard line and he raced for his friend, legs pumping underneath him, he held the satchel at his back with one hand and reached deeply with the other to sprint and pull at his energy.
The brute had no idea what had made his former friend so angry, but this bloodshed was not Zigans nature, Benjamin had to find the motif; he had to help this man. They needed him now just as he needed them.
As he neared, he could hear the gargled moans of the man in Zgans hands. He could smell the blood thickly; and then he heard the familiar soft metallic sound. Deep green eyes narrowed in on the soldiers hand and his feet skidded beneath his body in unforeseen urgency; but it was too late. The explosion tore through the air, throwing Benjamins from his feet. It seemed an age before the ground pounded at his back, knocking the air from those cavernous lungs. The flames spread widely, attaching themselves to the building and part of the docks beside him, they'd have other wise burned his body had he been a mundane.
A deafening ring had stolen the hearing from him, and his head was filled with an agony that had no comparison. His chest convulsed as Blaze choked for air, sucking it in as best he could through the pain. “Zi-” He gasped loudly, exasperated, as he clambered awkwardly to his feet “-gan”. Stumbling, Benjamin used his hands for purchase against the ground, eyes scanning through a narrowed gaze to find the other male. He regained himself quickly, breathing heavily and forcefully to fill his lungs and ignore the heaviness upon them.
His feet had become clumsy, dragging along the ground as he ran towards the shop front where a woman now stood. It hadn't occurred to Benjamin that she shouldn't be there so easily, so quickly. He hadn't even passed the thought upon taking one last dig inside his determination and launching himself towards the shattered building. As he tried to clamber over window frame, he tripped and caught himself on the glass covered floor; ignoring it he push upwards, dumped his satchel and knelt beside the woman but not paying her any attention, his hands unhindered to touch his friend.
He felt the table leg, and fingered the area in which it pierced his body. Zigans torso was split open, his gut was bare for all to see. Benajmin snatched the hem of his shirt and threw it over his head, baring his chest and the markings upon it, his hand curled, nails growing thickly and extending as claws presented to drive into the fabric and slice it in half.
Hold this.” He instructed the woman, unwaiting for an answer as he shoved one half of the fabric into her hands.
He then disappeared into the satchel, taking out a lump of clothes, dividing them and shoving a white shirt deep into the open wound to stave the immediate bleeding. Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, Benjamins hand disappeared under the body of his friend with the other rag in his palm. He reached over Zigans body and grabbed one end and, pulling his hand out from underneath, connected the two ends, covering the wound to his torso.
Snatching the piece of cloth back from the woman, he wrapped it around the shoulder, beside the table leg – daring not to remove it. He then took a pair of jeans from the pile of cloths and did the same from the opposite side providing the table leg with some stability, he had wrapped the make shift bandage around the object.
We need to take him to the safe house.” He informed the woman, finally turning to look at her; but then – a thought, he raised at a measured pace to stand above her, arms curled in an offensive way, his own blood dripped from elongated claws and a low, ferocious sound escaped his lightly parted lips, as canines extended, slipping into view; golden eyes ablaze he threatened, “If you are not one of us, then I will give you two seconds to get out of my site less I tear you to pieces.
Benjamin had never been one to delve into theatrics, but nor did he have the time to waste on a mundane if that was what she was. The stench of Zigans blood coupled with that of the metallic tang of the grenade made it almost impossible to catch any underlying smells; and so he could not sense her supernaturalism. Surely, the scythe in her hand was a give away, but he was only noticing it now – a little too late.

"Speech."
Thoughts.
Art/Code by Eclipse- Do not use without permission!
[/color]

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Re: Other Half.

Post by Cyndle on Tue 05 Sep 2017, 01:00

"Well, I'll do my best, but hey at least if you die you don't gotta wander around until one of us finds you.." she clambered on, unsure of what to say to the man who lay dying before her. At this rate, he would bleed out sooner then later and time was running short it seemed. If he could hear her, then most likely he wouldn't know what the hell she was even talking about or who she was so she supposed that it didn't matter much either way what words she spoke. Her hand extended out to touch at the table leg where it exited the skin, wondering if she could move him with it intact until someone could treat him. Cyn was focused on the situation before her but the sound of foot steps outside the building caught her attention, looking up as a figure approached the storefront though the flying dust still in the air and the light from outside distorted his features until he clumsily climbed through the broken window.


Remaining in her kneeling position she appraised this man who rushed in with urgency. He didn't seem to notice her at first and for a moment she thought she had accidentally slipped into her astral form but upon looking down at her legs that were bent beneath her she could clearly see her physical body. He was quick in his actions, pulling the shirt from his body and baring his skin to Cyndle's silent appreciation, despite the situation. He was well toned and had the scars of a seasoned warrior along with intriguing markings that made her want to reach out and touch them. She had never been with a man but he wouldn't have been a bad start. Shaking her head slightly, she focused again as the new arrival acknowledged her by handing her a piece of fabric and giving her orders. "He's bossy.. Cyn thought, though she stayed put and held the fabric quietly while the man next to her worked fast in bandaging the other.


Once he finished his work, emerald eyes met her own mixed hues as he spoke to her like she knew what he was talking about. Her eyes must have looked slightly 'deer in the headlights' and she scrambled for words that would make sense."We need to take him where?" the question screamed in her head but Cyn didn't have much time to think, as she instantly picked up on the change in demeanor, noting his new stance and the threat that rolled off in more growl than words. He smelled of wolf, which she was half of and though his words were once again confusing she assumed that he meant the uniformed men or people like them, though that was an assumption. Regardless, the change in his body language immediately hit a nerve with Cyndle as she too rose form her kneeling position to stand with her scythe planted firmly next to her.


Temper flared as the blue and orange raged a storm in her eyes, raven hair moving to rest around her shoulders giving her face a darkened look. She stepped forward and allowed her body to fall into the same ritual as the male had, claws extending and canines lengthening as she exposed them. Her voice was low and even, though the menacing growl could not be mistaken, she would not be threatened by anyone. "If by 'one of us' you mean NOT wearing a god damned uniform and hunting people based on their species then yes, I AM one of you. However, you better learn some damn respect when you're talking to a lady because you never know who you may be crossing." She said, leaning in on her tiptoes to show she wasn't afraid of him, hand tightening around the shaft of her scythe until her knuckles turned pure white on her smooth porcelain skin.


With that, Cyndle backed up a few steps not in retreat but in disinterest in what else he had to say for now. Turning away she moved to stand at the unconscious mans feet. "I was only following this fool because he was the first one I've come across that I think might have answers for me. I didn't know he was on a killing spree and I definitely didn't mean to get this involved but the hell with it, might as well follow it through." Looking back at the other male she extended her land in the direction of the one laying on the floor. "Now if you're done making threats about shit that you may or most likely may not accomplish, would you like some help getting him wherever this 'safe house' is?" she asked, tilting her head slightly to the right as she awaited his answer.
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Cyndle

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Re: Other Half.

Post by Zigan Yesterday at 21:42

The numbness was not a long lasting one. The movement of Blaze wrapping his stomach and pressing around upon and inside of his wounds had started to rouse him though he was unaware of it to start with. The movement simply bringing him back closer to consciousness.
He felt cold, as though ice licked it's way along his flesh, covering him in a blanket of frost, causing him to feebly shiver as voices began to move around within his mind. One familiar to him and one not.
He could not hear the words that were spoken or even the tone of voice that were being used, he was just some how aware of them as waking became ever closer the more time that passed.
At first there was the bliss of confusion. He was unaware of what had happened or why it had happened and the pain was only just beginning to register.
A small part of his mind was willing him to stay there, fighting for him to remain inside the cocoon of oblivion where the stark reality of what he had to face could not crush him once again, the pain of Nammia's loss more then he could bare. Death was a kinder option, yet the body for now refused to succumb to it, he was being forced to reawaken to the never ending torment of her death.

As though he had been struck with lightning he gasped, eyes blinking wildly open, his hand still curled protective around Nammia's heart yet the other automatically shot up to where the leg of the table pierced through his upper body. Fingers wrapping around it he tried to find the strength to pull it but with the blood slick upon it he could find no purchase his digits slipping each time he tried to dislodge it, the strength not there to cause any real damage to himself, just a frantic panic at realizing something was punctured through his body.
The pain was returning now as though the damn that had been holding it back gave way, the slight tremble becoming much more pronounced as shock began to set in. His breathing which he was already finding difficult picking up the pace and becoming more shallow with each breath taken.

“Blaze?” now only just aware of those around him he called out to his friend, not knowing who the other was. He felt as though he were dying and he needed them to know. He wanted them to know what the soldiers had done. “Blaze..” he opened his hand hoping that his friend would see what was within it. The heart of his mate. “They...they killed her” he almost shrieked the pain of the words worse then the physical pain he was in. “t..th-they killed her, Blaze”
At least in death he would see her again, yet that didn't seem good enough to him. Even now he wanted them to pay for what they had done, he wanted their blood. All of it.
He tried to get up but it was no use, nothing worked the way it should, he felt heavy the pain was starting to fade, leaving as quickly as it had come, shock pulling him further away again. “Killed her...” the heart rolled from his palm his eyes beginning to fog over once again his mind fixating what they had done to her. “They did it...”

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Zigan

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