• Last Seen: 10 yrs ago
  • Old Guild Username: Jiskastya
  • Joined: 12 yrs ago
  • Posts: 418 (0.09 / day)
  • VMs: 0
  • Username history
    1. Jiskastya 12 yrs ago

Status

User has no status, yet

Bio

User has no bio, yet

Most Recent Posts

Eh. It has been almost a year since things have crashed (over? I can't remember), and things don't seem to have changed much. I'm at the point where it is as it is until something else happens. I have no expectations anymore.

Yay! Can't wait to read it. Hopefully we will be able to get up to a more steady pace soon.
I know. It seems to go out about once every day at this point, although it always comes back up. I'm thinking I might want to make sure our story is completely backed up to our current point, just in case something bad/nasty happens. If it does, you'll come find me on Iwaku, right?

Also! Any chance you'll get a... well, chance to post?
Thank you very much! We got snow while we were opening presents, and now there's a good four inches outside!

How goes your break?
Merry Christmas, Pope!
Merry Christmas!
Hello! Merry Christmas! Are you on break, or still taking finals?
Written collaboratively

As the pup sits down, drawing out an object from somewhere that the King neither knew nor really cared, he continued to absentmindedly scan the forest. It was a strangely quiet place, especially in comparison to the forest he knew. Not many creatures would bother him or the Pack unless they were sitting on a fresh kill, but there was always something happening or moving in the forest, and it never did to be unaware. But here the most dangerous thing that ever moved was a bird or small rodent, things so harmless that the ward wouldn't even affect them. The King could get lazy here, if it was in his nature.

The smell of the meat drew his attention briefly, and he wondered for a moment how long it had been since he had ate. Whatever magic had caused his body to grow, it had seemed to finally break whatever had kept the hunger from affecting him. But he was not a whiner, to steal food from a pup. Especially not a wounded pup.

It took him a couple of minutes to realize that the pup had been holding an odd position for quite a while. The King didn't think much of his tendency to walk on two legs, but the pup had been holding a piece of meat tout towards his nose for a long time, not looking at it and hardly moving. Why was he doing this? Was it some sort of protection from things on the ground? But the King's feelers told him that there wasn't anything dangerous in the ground except a couple of small bugs. What did the pup want?

Gradually, however, it began to occur to him that the pup was trying to share. What he had brought was the “kill”, and he was doing as was proper, submitting the best portion for the alpha's consumption. Briefly the King considered refusing, pups always got to eat as much as they wanted, but perhaps, unable to properly communicate, this was the pup's way of trying to join the pack. The bite was hardly more than a scrap to him, but one of his feelers reached out, splitting open into the feathered tendrils, and wrapped around the piece, lifting it gently from the pup's paw.

For a long while the beast doesn't seem to pay the meat any attention, and Kir-Kon develops a few theories as to why. The top one he says aloud. “I guess it doesn't smell much like the meat you are use to eating, all raw and bloody. Maybe it doesn't smell good to you, hmmm? Well, I don't think cooking does anything bad, though I does removes some of the fat. You should try it.” He uses one hand to eat, keeping still for the most part between bites, and he is almost finished when at last he feels something. Turning his head ever so slightly he looks towards his hand and watches as those delicate little feathery bits from inside the tendrils help him scoop up the piece of meat. He smiles at this, slowly retracting his hand and licking it clean. He watches the beast, wondering what he'll make of the cooked hunk of flesh.

The King doesn't even bother to examine the food, once he had ensured that it is, in fact, meat. Satisfied, he moves it towards his mouth and swallows the morsel without even bothering to chew. He had tasted charred meat before, fire while hunting could prove an admirable technique against those creatures not used to the manipulation of flame, but this was far more delicate than any sort of charring. He caught a subtle pallet of other flavors before the chunk was gone down his jaw, lost forever. Only briefly did it occur to him to wonder if one of the not-meat somethings might hurt him, he had seen some plants do bad things to pups before they knew what to chew and what not to chew, but none of those plants had ever had a lasting effect on the King, and once he was briefly ill once, the plant never bothered him again. There was no sense in wondering about it.

“You just gulp it on down without a care. Either you're silly, you've had cooked meat before, or you're smarter than you should be. Being a beast and all. Not that beasts aren't smart, but. . .” He rambles on for a bit, downing the rest of his meal and emptying his juice jug. Licking his lips he puts the jug in the sack and tucks it back away into his tunic. Turning ever so slightly he reaches back to touch the side of the creature, slipping his fingers beneath the fur to feel the skin. “You're a tough guy. I can tell.” He pets the King's side a few more times before looking around. “At your size, you're going to need something more to eat than that. . .” He pauses for a moment, wondering if he should even bother, but as he has nothing better to do he decides to give it a try.

Standing up he brushes the grass and dirt off hi leggings and begins looking around for anything that might lead him towards some prey big enough to actually satisfy the large creature. He crouches ever once in a while, running his fingers over patches of ground that look like they may have tracks. He himself can't hunt the deer in the area, but he suspects that he may be able to coax the beast to follow, if he sends the right signals, and show him the best places to find food. 'After all, if he can keep fed around here, he's more likely to stick around, and he does break of the monotony of the day. . . .'

The King panted slightly as the pup touched his side, but other than that ignored his probings. He couldn't help but feel a little sorry for the pup, having only ten short feelers to sense the world. Then again, maybe he made up for the lack of them with strength in some other sense, or a sense that he did not understand, like how some of his prey animals were able to detect him at different times than others, for reasons that he could not understand. Either way, the pup seemed to make do. His pack all looked the same as him, and many of them survived into adulthood. Then again, protected by the ward as they were, perhaps that wasn't as much of an accomplishment as it might be.

When the pup got up the King nearly grabbed him. The pup had paid obeisance, and was a part of the pack, small pack though it was. Why was he wandering away now? He didn't go far fast, but it was clear from the pup's attitude that he wasn't intending to stretch his legs and then come back for a lazy afternoon nap. Shaking himself slightly in frustration, the King got to his feet. As a pack of two, there was no reason for them to stay in one place. It wasn't as though they had a territory. All the same, the King didn't like being subject to the pup's whims. He was a pup. His job was to watch his elders and learn from their actions, not wander away on his own and force the adults to follow.

Finally he finds a set that looks rather fresh, probably from the night or early morning. “Lining this up with my mental map of the woods, it looks like these three were headed for the stream a little ways from here. The grass in the area is lush, so they may still be around there. . .” Standing up he looks back towards the beast, stilling as he sees it on it's feet. “Sorry, didn't mean to get you up so quick.” Rolling his tongue around a bit he recalls the sound from before. After a moment if trying to work it out, he tries to imitate the “Come hither” sound. It sounds almost the same to his ears, though a higher pitch as he is a smaller creature, but it is good enough for him. He kneels beside the prints again, moving his hands around the area in hopes that the beast will be able to pick up the scent and get what he's trying to do.

Perhaps he had underestimated the sensitivity of the feelers on the pup's paws. The King watched with some curiosity as he grew slowly closer to the scent trail of a small group of prey that had passed through several hours ago, but it wasn't until he paused at the trail for longer than he had paused in the other places that the King realized this was what the pup had been looking for. Obviously scent wasn't this creature's strong suit, but he was able to track, if somewhat inefficiently. Was he still hungry? Had his pack not fed him enough? But, if he was hungry, why had he given the piece to the King? Although pups were rarely brought along on the hunt until they were old enough to not get in the way, pups were fed until they were full, as long as there was enough meat in general. But if the pup was hungry, he would hunt for him.

However, before the King could move towards the trail and start looking for his prey, the pup whined at him. It was slightly odd sounding and distorted, but it was clear enough for the King to know exactly what the pup was trying to say. The pup was summoning him, ordering him over. He was moving a split second later, one large paw hitting the pup's back and sending him tumbling onto his stomach. It was not an unnecessarily harsh blow, just enough to serve its purpose and knock him over. Then the King was on top of him, one large paw on either side of Kir-Kon's body. Obviously he had been to lenient with the pup, and a simple reminder would do it good. A growl rumbled in the King's chest, low and strong, before he snapped down towards the back of Kir-Kon's neck, fangs closing just close enough to flesh that the air brushed against him, without actually touching him.

Kir-Kon lets out a yelp at being knocked to the ground. For a split second he wonders if this is like the dogs of town, just getting over excited about something. Given the beast's size knocking him over could be an accident. However the second is over quickly and the youth can feel his heartbeat jump to full speed. The sounds coming from the creature easily Identify as angry and his teeth sink into his lip as he fights the urge to call out. 'After all, when has that ever done any good since the elder's death. No one bothers to even look any more when they hear my cries, except to laugh. And that aside, there's no one to hear me. I would just die here, alone. . .'

He does his best to keep breathing, his lungs freezing when he feels the snap, bare centimeters from the back of his neck. Automatically his hands snap around to the back of his neck and he curls into a fetal position, trying to hide as much of himself as he can. Despite the terror racing through him, a feeling that would have most people trying, hey does not shed a tear. He's been unable to cry for a while now, after having spent so many years doing so so often. Instead his eyes simply snap shut as he curls into a ball, and waits, praying he'll at least be able to walk after this.

The pup curls up tight between the King's legs, and although it is silent it also doesn't make any move to continue trying to dominate him. Satisfied that the pup has been reminded of its place in this odd pack the growls immediately cut off, and the King carefully steps away from him, moving over towards the scent trail. They are not of a variety with which the King is familiar, but they smell unmistakably of prey, a soft, leafy smell, mixed in with sweat, piss, and warm blood.

The King hesitates just before he would have bounded off after the creatures, wanting to bring back food for the pup, looking towards the creature.

It takes a moment for him to realize the beast is no longer above him. What at last he does figure it out though he slowly begins to uncoil. 'It didn't attack me. It didn't. . .Why then did it?' His mind flashes over everything he knows about pack animals, and after a moment he strike on a notion. Rolling carefully on his back he looks over at the beast. “Was I? Did you? Did I do something naughty?” His brows furrow at the notion, unable to come up with a better explanation. He looks at the King, watching him sniff around before turning his tendrils towards the youth, “Looking” at him. Kir-Kon slowly stands, keeping himself low.

The tumble had aggravated some of his wounds and he has to suppress a whine least the creature take it the wrong way. “All these little sounds we humans just take for granted, never know what it'll mean, hmm? Well, you don't seem to mind my talking, so I guess, ow ow ow ow ow, is the best I'm gonna get for expressing the burning sensation along my back and the stabbing pain shooting up my leg, hmm?” He looks off towards where the tracks lead, wondering vaguely if it was the scent of prey that distracted the large creature. He can feel the faint urge to flee, his heart still racing, but as the beast doesn't seem to be acting aggressive any more, he's gone back to being predominately curious.
i hope you aren't getting frustrated with me...

Finals week is next week. I'll see how time goes, but I may not be able to get you anything until winter break starts. But once winter break does start I'll have a month of time, completely free. You'll get a good chunk of my attention then, to do with as you please.
She was sorry?

It was the last thing that Ethan had been expecting to hear. He had been preparing himself for more vicious words, for more insults and affronts to his manhood. He had his response to her imagined accusations all prepared.

Of course, a small part of his mind whispered, she was only sorry now that he had decided to go along with her plan. If he had somehow run into her on the street, would her words be so polite? In many ways, it was just more of the same. But Ethan did his best to push those angry, frustrated thoughts away somewhere that they wouldn’t be recognized or affect his attitude. He was here to help her find a kid, and there was no need to make it any more complicated than that.

“May I come in?” he asked, still somewhat numb, before untangling himself from the cat and stepping into the small room, trying to avoid tripping over the creature. He sat in one of the uncomfortable wooden chairs, near a small desk that, other than a nightstand, dresser, and bed, was the only furniture in the cheap room. He sat stiffly, almost like a wooden chair himself, and his knees angled towards the door, his only route of escape.

“Well, I’m here,” he said, more than a little bluntly. Best to just get things out of the way. “What exactly do you want from me?”
For the first hour of the drive, Ethan was only ever a heartbeat away from turning around. His hands locked tight around the wheel, his gut churned, and only the thought that he had made his choice when he rented the car kept him on his path. After the first hour it got a little easier. He ran over the conversation with Bree that he knew was coming so often it almost began to sound like a mantra. He plotted out conversations, whole swathes of dialogue so that when they finally met again he would be in control of the whole situation. He checked the numbers over and over again, knowing that there was only so much aid he could garner from them, but unable to resist the compulsive behavior.

It didn’t take him very long to decide that he wasn’t going to tell Bree much about the situation. He wouldn’t avoid her questions if she asked, but nor was he going to offer information that she didn’t strictly need. Like the fact that Jacob’s father was getting closer and closer to committing suicide the longer his child was missing. If he told her, Bree would undoubtedly place the man under constant observation so that he wouldn’t go through with the act. And if they failed, for any reason, that kid’s soul would join his sister’s, resting squarely and permanently on the father’s shoulders. Ethan knew how unbearable that weight was just for Victor, what would he have felt if he thought he was responsible for the death of his own child?

Of course, Ethan saw no reason for them to fail. Once Ethan found out where the kid was located, he could help Bree find the one piece of evidence that had to be out there pointing in the direction of the kid. It would seem lucky, almost impossibly lucky, that they happened to come across it, but that was what Ethan did. He created luck. No one, except Bree, would ever need to know he was involved, keeping his identity secure. Then Jacob’s father would be able to testify against the organization and all its members, they would go to jail, and it would be over. No more guilt traps, no more feeling responsible. Bree would leave him alone, and he would be free.

Five hours after he started driving, almost to the minute, Ethan entered into the city limits of Boston, Massachusetts. He wound his way into the city, making his way towards a spot where the numbers told him there would be parking, before walking a couple of blocks to get a late lunch. He wasn’t sure whether or not his stomach would be able to handle it, now that he was closer to Bree all the tension that had been in his gut when he had started driving seemed to have returned, but he had skipped breakfast and barely eaten the day before that. He could feel the lightness in his head and, assuming he didn’t puke, the meal should do something to stabilize him.

As he sat and slowly worked his way through a cheap burger and basket of fries, Ethan began to think in a little more detail what exactly he was planning to do now that he was in Boston. He knew that he was going to have to find Bree. He was here, and he was committed to that. But he was going to have to find her at a time when she was alone, and when there was no opportunity for someone else to show up without warning. As little as he liked the idea, he was probably going to have to find her at her hotel, and wait until a point when she was the only FBI Agent there.

He paid for his burger and left the building, returning to his car just as the parking meter was running out. At the present moment in time, there was only ever complete certainty. Either something was, or something wasn’t. Because of that, Ethan was quickly able to find out that Bree’s hotel was to the north and the east of him. At every intersection he checked the numbers again, winding his way ever closer to her hotel. It wasn’t the most efficient means of travel, and more than once Ethan found himself trapped in a dead end he would have to work his way back out of, but eventually he pulled into the parking lot of a Comfort Inn near the Boston Airport. He settled back into his seat and waited for the chance to go up to her without being seen.

When the moment came he nearly let it pass. This was his last chance to back out, to run away and leave everyone to their own fate. But how could he turn around after going so far. He got out of the car aggressively, slamming the door to the car and locking it closed behind him. He knew what he was going to say. He had it all figured out. There was no mystery in the matter.

He walked through the lobby, nodding politely to the attendant, before heading deeper into the hotel. She wasn’t on the first floor, but she was on the second. He worked his way from room to room slowly, checking each number until the numbers finally told him he had found her room.

Last chance. Last chance. It was running over and over in his head. He knocked three times, before clasping his hands tightly together.

When the door open, he nearly froze. “Please don’t run, Bree.” In his head it had been a witty opener, something to break the tension that would undoubtedly rear its head as soon as she saw who was at her door. Instead it came out mechanical, sounding every ounce the script it was. He tried to smirk, but it came out looking far more like a grimace.

Why was he doing this? This was a bad idea.
© 2007-2026
BBCode Cheatsheet