Author Topic: Foolish Heroics [Slaving]  (Read 1294 times)

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Offline Fortune

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Foolish Heroics [Slaving]
« on: September 14, 2010, 08:54:02 PM »
Some OOC notes before I get into my post.

  • Please let Maelstrom post first before jumping in.
  • This thread was approved by Kotake and is part of a plot. I'm posting it earlier than i'd planned to, to beat closing borders, so there may be problems with...
  • Please forgive any inconsistencies that may pop up, i'm roleplaying Tybil in several threads at varying points in his time line so it's bound to happen at some point. Most likely in this thread, since I don't even technically know if he'll survive his trip to the BBO.
  • I will attempt to keep you updated if things have to change due to other threads via OOC notes.


So many things were about to go wrong. It was a miracle that he'd made it this far.

He'd only made it based on hearsay, gossip, and quickly fading scents. He was hardly a champion of a tracker, but something told him that he'd found the right place as the pungent scent of border marks assaulted him. His pace had slowed and his features had grown wary. This was a strong pack. Perhaps not unlike the Outlands, but without any manner of contact for him within. It would not be so easy to trespass, here. He fell away from the reeking border mark, ears against his skull, body forcing him to pace in unsteady trepidation. His mind was reeling. How could he hope to make a difference here? Suddenly, his entire plan was falling apart.

Could he possibly hope to save his beloved? He was but one being. No, instead he'd go down in history as that foolhardy creature that could never think straight. Oh yes! He had done wrong! But he did not want to be forever falsely remembered as he who raped a cold, still body. No! He got caught up in a night of love, and she had wanted it! It had been so easy to forget, in the heat of the moment, that he'd induced her longing... and yet, it would have been unlike him to take what he wanted from someone that was for all intensive purposes, sleeping. He glanced over his shoulder, eyes casting a look over the border. This was hopeless.

Looking back to his daughter, the single rock in this unsteady life he led, he was torn. She would want to follow where he led, but he simply... couldn't allow it. Closing the distance between himself and her, he placed a delicate nuzzle into the fur of her neck. "Maelstrom..." he started, pulling away to look at her, really look at her. "I... I need you to stay out of sight." She would know it not to be a request, but a demand. If he was to cross this border, if he was to be capture or killed... he wasn't going to bring her down with him. She didn't need to pay for a lifetime of stupid decisions.

He looked back to the border, swallowing deeply. It would be hard, to abandon her here. Perhaps it was the wrong decision? He would never know if he didn't try it. She... she could be his contingency plan. If things were to go truly badly, and she caught wind of it... he knew she'd do what she could to fix things. She'd be there with him, going down with the ship. Even though he'd told her, quite plainly, to stay away. She was truly his only loyal partner. His mouth felt dry, parting slightly to let air flow over his tongue that suddenly felt too big for his head. "I'll... come back for you." He couldn't look back now, couldn't look at her. Instead, he began walking forward, almost as if he legs spoke for themselves. Across the border, across the point of no return.

He would be back for her... though he might be back in pieces.


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Offline Fortune

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Re: Foolish Heroics [Slaving]
« Reply #1 on: September 14, 2010, 08:54:21 PM »
She followed him over hills, through fen, through rivers, around mountains.  Got utterly lost with him, lay in the grass stargazing with him on cold nights, and things were just about as good as they got in Maelstrom's world were it not for the fact that they had a destination in these travels.  If it made father happy, of course she'd follow, and of course she could wait for him, but when push come to shove and scents of strange wolves marked the grass, the fur on her neck bristled with anxiety.

She walked wordlessly beside the white Blackblood, dwarfing him in size but moving with tail low and muzzle tilted in his direction and blue eyes on him and she was simply waiting -- waiting for the inevitable shift in the status quo.  Just as she'd never want him to go in here alone, so Tybil would probably seek to protect his daughter and companion.  The difference was, while he would not obey her, she would obey him.

It was a march toward the bleak inevitable.

"Maelstrom..."

Ah.  We've reached it.

"I... I need you to stay out of sight."

Blue eyes a hair away from his, focusing furiously on his right cheek to maintain contact without challenge -- the same hue as his own.  To a stranger, Maelstrom would seem fairly expressionless at the moment; Tybil, however, would probably notice the slight furrow of brow and tension of jaws that hinted at her extreme upset.  Yet, she would not protest.  Only --

He nuzzled her, and she buried muzzle in the thick white ruff, making sure she knew every last tinge of the scent (in case she needed to go in and find him) and worry shifted to almost clinginess, seeking contact.

"Father...'she' abandoned us.  Is it really necessary -- to -- to risk like this?"

It was not a protest as much as it was the closest she'd come to pleading.  And yet if they were here, the chances of that plea having any desired effect were pretty much miniscule.  Unfortunately for the black-marked daughter, she was absolutely right.

"I'll... come back for you."

She couldn't speak, couldn't move for a second's time, could only stare dumbly as he walked away.

"Come back safe..."

Belated, and perhaps not even audible to his ears as the white Blackblood departed into the unknown land.  She retreated, jumped a small river (just in case anyone would be tracking her scent), found a fairly large set of flower-bushes and (awkwardly comical as it sounds) hid behind those to watch.  Tybil was faintly visible, and she was rather far, but it was fortunately a fairly unobstructed view.

Just in case.

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Offline Fortune

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Re: Foolish Heroics [Slaving]
« Reply #2 on: September 14, 2010, 08:54:39 PM »
Nine months he had been in Oukoku Kai, and at nearly two years old the behemoth blackblood felt as though he was truly fulfilling his purpose in life. He was eager to please, an intense desire to prove himself worthy as a member of Oukoku Kai. He had not done much as a Kyuu, but as a Slaver, he was proving his worth. Seven. The number of slaves he'd either brought into Death Valley by himself, or with the help of others. Heathens that would be forcefully molded into the mindset of Oukoku Kai, or would die in the process. Only the worthy ascended from heathens and into true Oukokans.

Alaunos stalked the border today, keeping an eye out for those that dared trespass beyond the line that divided the worthy from the unworthy. Those that knew their place would stay beyond the borders and would be greeted by a hawk. Those that didn't? Well, they might get a wolf like Alaunos if they were lucky. If they met a Slaver, they at least had the chance to redeem themselves. If they met another? Well, the tar pits would swallow them mercilessly.

Nostrils flared, his entire being tuning into a foreign scent. The male knew the scent of a native, and the difference between that scent, and one of a heathen. He prowled forward, head down, tracing the source of the scent, and tail held parallel to the ground.

He was hunting.

The Slaver camouflaged himself, hiding within the brush as he caught sight of Tybil. Cold eyes watched closely, observing for only a moment. There was no scent of a Hawk that would have allowed him into the packlands. No blood and no fresh scar upon his body. Lips peeled back, baring his fangs silently at the intruder.

You're mine, heathen, was his only thought before he erupted into motion.

There was perhaps fifteen or twenty feet between himself and the white and black blackblood in the beginning, but Alaunos crossed that distance silently in a split second. Maw open wide, the large blackblood would attempt to ram into Tybil, throw him off balance and to the ground before lashing out with his fangs, trying to latch onto the other's neck with his maw and drag him deeper into Death Valley. If Alaunos did not manage to ram Tybil or get him onto the ground, the Slaver would snarl violently, biting down and hoping to latch onto anything he could sink his teeth into. He'd crunch down hard, hoping to damage the muscle and rip up the flesh, shredding it like soft cheese.

There was no hope for this intruder, for soon he would be cast into the bowels of hell in a place called Oukoku Kai.

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Re: Foolish Heroics [Slaving]
« Reply #3 on: September 14, 2010, 08:54:55 PM »
Her words were lost to him, but he felt the meaning behind them all the same. She was upset, and he was, as well. She hid her emotions much more easily than he had ever been able to, but he knew. She'd been his since the very beginning, if there was something he didn't know about Maelstrom, chances were that nobody knew it. He held his head down, refusing to look back. If he looked back, saw her looking at him, he was sure that he'd lose every ounce of courage he had. He wouldn't be able to DO it anymore! He had to be able to do it, had to make something of himself... it was now or never, wasn't it?

This place was foreign. It reeked of its inhabitants, the smell strong enough to make one lose their head. He growled, a sound that didn't come from aggression, but rather worry. He looked around him, eyes wide, nostrils flared and ears straining. If he died today, he'd forever go down in history for his terrible deeds. Just this once, just this once, let him do something right! A plea to a universe that didn't listen... it never listened.

He hadn't gotten very far into the territory, still likely in Maelstrom's sight (though, perhaps a bit faint). A snapping sound drew his attention-- any sound or movement (or the illusion there of) was drawing his attention like a moth to a flame. There was no denying his paranoia. No, he was really paranoid, extremely on edge. He walked as carefully as if he were putting his paws down on a razor blade, tongue spilling over his lips, lolling for a moment before escaping back within.

His paranoia was well founded. From his left, an explosion of movement, of sound. The scent had been lost among all the other scents on the border... but his, the scent of a foreign heathen... they would come to him like flies. Tybil barely had a moment to react before the other Blackblood, larger than he, barreled into him with enough speed and force to knock him to the ground. He bellowed, more from surprise than anger, but the sound was swiftly cut off when he hit the ground. The wind was knocked out of him, and for a moment's time his vision blurred and swam in front of him.

Teeth snapped, hot breath and saliva hitting his face. As breath rushed back into his lungs, his vision came back into focus in time for the monster above him to dive, striking for his throat. Mouth wide, his chin pushed down, and he felt fangs snarl in the thick cloth around his neck, grazing the skin. If he'd had time to think, he might bless the humans for the first time since he'd met them... all the shame, all the hurt, but he'd earned the love of a little girl... and now... she had saved him, without knowing. It seemed that everything happened for a reason.

He kicked, hard, with his hind legs, attempting to dislodge his assaulter. If he could at least stumble him, maybe he could get out from under, regain precious footing. He wasn't a warrior. But he didn't want to die. Not now, not today! Hopefully sheer adrenaline and desire to continue living would be enough to get him out of a potentially deadly situation. His jaws snapped, flashy but blind... he couldn't really aim for anything that could really hurt the slaver, he was far too preoccupied with not letting himself die.

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Re: Foolish Heroics [Slaving]
« Reply #4 on: September 14, 2010, 08:55:28 PM »
The slim slaver toppled the other with relative ease, having the element of surprise on his side. The white and black wolf hollered loudly, probably more out of shock than actual pain. Teeth clamped around something and violet eyes flashed in triumph. With a mighty tug, the slaver jerked his head back, trying to haul Tybil into Oukoku. There was a sharp RIIIIIIIIP as the cloth bandanna ripped from his fangs, and Alaunos snarled. The cloth was probably in tatters by now, but still held onto the neck of the heathen.

The black and red blackblood released his hold as the other kicked. The blows glanced off his legs, but it made no difference. They were weak, panicked, but the Slaver let the other scramble away to try and regain his footing. Alaunos would lower his head, thick, rumbling growl deep within his chest. Tail was raised threateningly, and the male would stalk towards the outsider like he was hunting prey.

"Human cloth, heathen? Are you a dog?" he spat, eyes sparking with lips curled in disgust. The slaver would prowl forward slowly, eyes staring challenging into Tybil's. "I'm afraid dogs are not welcome within the glory of these lands," and he'd charge forward again, this time aiming to entirely rip the bandanna from the other's neck. Jaws would part, snapping down and trying to latch onto the cloth.

Once the last trace of human remnant was cast aside, Alaunos would snap down at the scruff of the other's neck, were the loose folds of thick skin would be easy to grasp and drag the other. If he managed to take hold, the Slaver would lock his jaws, clamping down and dragging back sharply, into the depth of Oukoku Kai and towards the Slave Quarters. If he did not manage to get a good hold, the male would snarl in anger and snap at Tybil's ear, aiming to shred it with his jaws as punishment.

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Offline Fortune

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Re: Foolish Heroics [Slaving]
« Reply #5 on: September 14, 2010, 08:55:43 PM »
The cloth about his neck tattered, damp pieces falling about his face as his attacker fell back. He quickly scrambled back to his feet, eyes rolling wildly towards Alaunos as he tried to back away. Wait. Too late to run from this now. Too late to wish it hadn't happened. Thoughts whirred through his mind-- it was time to live in the now. No more dwelling on the past, no more dwelling on steps he should have taken. His heart pounded, blood rushing through his veins. For the first time in a long time, he felt like a warrior again. The feeling was strange, but not unwelcome.

"I'm not a dog." His voice didn't sound like his own-- collected, without fear. Was that even him speaking? He was a being possessed. Or perhaps just a man on a mission. His movements lacked the fluid motion of practice, but he did at least try to dance with his would-be captor, eyes holding steady. He jerked back from the attack, though once he realized it hadn't been meant to maim him, his rigidity lessened. The cloth shredded and tore from his neck, leaving a strange, bare, prickling feeling where it had been for so long. It had served its purpose-- it had saved him just this once. Never again would it drag, never would it snag in the brambles, never would it draw the bulls to him-- so unsuited to be a matador. He watched as the other wolf dragged the torn cloth away and spat it out. The red reflected in his eyes for just a moment before he looked away. It was time to forget about it.

The remainder of their dance was short lived. He felt the teeth dig into his skin, not hard enough to really hurt him, but a hold that he could tell was good. His resistance was feeble, in fact, one could say he barely resisted at all. This had been what he'd wanted, hadn't it? He'd come here to find her. He had to accept the means of doing that included... getting dragged around. As long as it didn't involve death. If he complied, it wouldn't... right? "I'm not going to give you trouble." He spoke quietly. Would that be a weakness, in this strange land? Would he be beaten for being compliant?

How unusual that would be. Unexpected. He would walk, however, by the other wolf's side, head lowered. It had to be difficult to hang on so well, with them both being so large. In truth, he might have been able to get away. He might have been able to contend. But he was making the plan as he went, one step at a time. It was almost refreshing, dwelling only on his present situation. Living life as it came to him. For so long he'd been focused only on his past, the places he'd stumbled. Surely there would be stumbles in the future, but he had to deal with his footing now, or pay the price.

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Offline Maelstrom

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Re: Foolish Heroics [Slaving]
« Reply #6 on: September 26, 2010, 11:08:57 PM »
marking with persona
and if you feel just like a tourist
in the city you were born in,
then it's time to go
and define your destination,
there's so many different places
to call home
'cause when you find yourself the villain
in the story you have written,
it's plain to see
that sometimes the best intentions
are in need of redemption
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
played by Theral since March 27 2010. - tracker.

Offline Ren

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Re: Foolish Heroics [Slaving]
« Reply #7 on: September 30, 2010, 01:05:13 AM »
Would you like me to post one more time in this, or are we finished? :]


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Offline Ren

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Re: Foolish Heroics [Slaving]
« Reply #8 on: September 30, 2010, 01:32:07 AM »
:'D okay! I'll try to get a post up soon for ya~


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