Deathstalker, and the warriors from hell |
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Title was picked at psuedo-random off of a MST3K episode guide :P -- For Bronx, but if someone else is interested and I owe you a thread, drop me a line. -- Sorry it took a bit longer than expected to get up.
A single thought leaves a trace.
As long as darkness existed on this small ball of dust they called a planet, there would likely always be some sort of foul beast lurking in the grimy depths, ready to pounce upon even the most experienced paladins. But fortunately enough, none so boldly against evil seemed to tresspass this bleary, early morn -- in fact, the large female that wove her way through the rough trunks of second growth oaks that shot their trunks up like an upturned spider's legs. There was a misty haze that tainted the world, blurring the canopy above like a smudged lense and doing similarly yards ahead where things faded into grayish silhouettes before becoming nothing but a pale vision of what the fog obscured.
Oni's head swung slowly, dragging her gaze across the dim lands, silver eyes narrowing slightly as she did so. This place was new -- she hadn't been here before -- and so it was natural that the alpha was going to be a bit cautious about it. For all she knew, she could have just walked into a trap. The thought of it caused her pelt to bristle ever so slightly, dew clinging to the rough guard hairs even as she started once again to move. Her pace was slow, allowing herself to listen for anything that happened to be out of the ordinary, not that there would be as much warning as there potentially could be -- wet leaves were never as crisp as their fall-dried counterparts, quite obviously.
But the mystery of this place was what had sent her brain into dark contemplations. What was it? Why had none mentioned it before? Was Mount Shadow just never informed, and the Novians had kept the matter to themselves? -- After all, it was In their back yard, just as the Darklands were behind Mount Shadow. Hopefully, though, there were no coyotes to cross, nor other belligerent beings. -- But quite honestly, she'd only know with time.
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The day was growing dark, but not in a fashion that would be considered striking or even prolonged. Normally, the night would dip into its finest recesses via the startling red of the sun, the sky and its light very much suiting the dark, imposing form of Bronx, who moved with a somewhat celestial grace, despite the fact that his scar was paining him once more. He ignored it, and gave into his light but dignified limp. No; the night wasn’t being beautiful. Just because Nova Mountain’s Guardian neither cared nor worried about beauty when it came to scenery, he did recognise it, and this night was somewhat unique. For it was dull and the rain clouds dipped without raining. There was a subtle mist over the lands and it leaned and curled about the mighty base of the mountain, meandering through Whisper Forest as long-gone voices died in amongst the trees.
Quietly, but not intentionally so, Bronx finished his patrol. He had walked round the entire border of the territory that day – and the territory was huge. He didn’t feel too wearied, but his rugged black coat was damp from drizzle and his paws were beginning to move as if they had to be told. Normally, he would be interrupted several times by associates (or other) as he made his patrols, but not today. Bronx had been left alone to go about his duties; this time more than any other.
Bronx paused as his fierce eyes watched the opening of the dank tunnel. Then he entered; he wanted to visit this place again. Like last time, it was quiet and there were little to no wolf scents about. He walked about the grasslands, his eyes foreseeing his progress. He turned towards the shrouded forest and saw movement – shadows that were silent. Can you see them, he murmured in his deep, toneless voice to the powerful female wolf nearby who it appeared he had noticed only subconsciously so far. |
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This post has been edited by Bronx on Sep. 13, 2006 - 2:32pm
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Oni
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The only good thing about having 4 active threads is that it's easy to catch up. >.> Ahem. Note to sef, bug IT department.
A single thought leaves a trace.
This was all like some sort of eerie dream: the world was distanced, seen through wax paper that wrapped the world without wrinkles. Hollow ghosts of trees dipped their branches down like skeletal arms, trying to brush the ground with boughs that could not bend. The air, hushed and moist, whispered around the dreary leaves with the empty, ghastly sighs of the not-yet-dawn.
But she was not alone in the mists, not in the least. Apparently there was at least one other who dared to brave the unknown. A male voice broke the otherwise crisp air, calling out with a question that caused Oni to raise a brow. As if anyone could see anything useful in this soupy fog! The only thing she could possibly imagine him asking about was some kind of strange twisted branch formed into a horrid, demonic shape. Or maybe there was something she was overlooking -- perhaps there were coyotes here, as much as there didn't seem to be. Suspicion and curiosity enveloped her, and she took no more than two steps in the direction of the voice before an inky silhouette became clear.
Another wolf, needless to say, but it was one she wasn't familiar with. Though in all likelyhood it was simply another explorer out to investigate this strange, unfamiliar region, she wasn't going to be taking too many chances. But what was it that he had spoken of? Her low voice returned to him a similar question, "See what?" Concise, she skeptically drew her eyes around her again. Perhaps she'd attributed any feelings of being watched to this latest acquaintence of hers, and any unease to the lack of vision that the weather here had caused. What was she supposed to see? What kind of witchcraft was he peddling?
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OOC – yup, that’s a pretty fine system. And don’t say “bug IT department” to the IT department or they’ll make an annoying pun out of it.
Bronx glanced not into the dark fog but at the female who, although she was shorter than his almost unnaturally tall form, appeared to of a large and capable physique. After all, if he were to gaze into the misted trees once more he would perhaps see those dark shapes again, but how would he know that she could see them too apart from what was betrayed in her voice? He could see with more ease through her expression and her expression held evidence that she couldn’t see what he could. Her voice also told him this. Bronx then looked back towards the trees and the shapes were gone, hidden in the mist.
Of course, the stranger’s question may have been concerning the mist itself; it was rather thick and sturdy, but if one concentrated they could see what others couldn’t see in the smoke-like mass and tangle. The weather seemed to suit this territory which, as Bronx could see upon glancing briefly towards the distant and shrouded majesty of the Del Surs, was stooped in the shadow of the mountains, some of which seemed so tall that they positively leaned over the landscape.
I’ll take that as a no, he answered emotionlessly, his eyes still planted sternly on the forest. He paused, then drew back, glancing upon the female once more. I saw a number of unnatural shapes – you know, ghosts as a puppy or two would call them. Obviously they don’t exist, but I would be contradicting my own logic if I ignored them and insulting my own state-of-mind if I thought it was my imagination. He trailed off once more and began to approach the trees, no thought whatsoever of “big scary ghosties” on his mind, want to join me? he added as an afterthought, glancing back over his powerful black shoulder upon noticing vaguely that she too could be curious. |
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Heh. Pshaw, puns are fun :P As is rhyming, apparently O.o;
A single thought leaves a trace.
What could or could not be seen all depended on the eye and imagination of the viewer. Oni lacked severely in the imagination department when it came to fantastic tales and mysteries. Frankly, a lot of them made no damn sense whatsoever, and she wasn't going to waste her time decoding, not to mention creating them. After all, there were none she knew who particularly cared to hear or tell them in her presence -- yet another reason to put fiction in a small box and stuff it on some faraway shelf which would only be dusted once every ten years.
Why an adult would believe something so silly as the black male before her suggested probably would have, on any other occasion, given her a good laugh. But given the fact that the scenery seemed to be ripe for someone to spring out from some darkish blob of a shadow, yowling like a banshee on fire in an attempt to scare all those in the immediate viscinity, she could almost believe that maybe poor guy had spent a bit too much time with some nest of whelps. What made things slightly more believeable was the much spoken of illness, which had of course come barrelling through like the spoken of banshee, then disappeared like the wind once the cure was found. Perhaps he was some sort of leftover remnant of that?
She took another couple steps closer, attempting to define where fog turned to fur. He didn't appear to be the weakling sort, so her alternate theory #3, of the guy just being some coward caught up in some adrenaline-fuled dream was certainly shot -- besides, he was much too calm for that. "Shapes?" she said, raising a brow again, as can be expected. Her rough voice curled around a few short phrases, "I'm hoping that you're just trying to disprove the most unlikely ideas you could come up with first so you could get them out of the way. It might just be a variation in density of the fog. -- I'd suggest it was swamp gas, but I don't think that fits the location." The alpha shrugged a shoulder, eyes wandering in search of something befitting the title of "strange." She didn't notice anything. But as for his last suggestion, she mused, "Assuming I do, I'd hope you don't mind finding out you're seeing things..." She took another few steps --apparently she was coming.
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Shapes, yeah. Bronx gazed once more into the fog amongst the trees, his eyes narrowed but unblinking. He too did not believe in fairytales; or rather, he didn’t believe in things that could not possibly exist, because it went against all logic. God, for instance. Bronx did, however, have an imagination; one couldn’t really get by without an imagination, and imagination paired with creativity was extremely practical, thus Bronx was heaped with it. Stunning logical and reasonable, it felt it was not his place to insist that ghosts didn’t exist… after all, he had no concept of ghosts. He needed to understand them in order to dismiss them.
It could be a process of elimination, yes, he replied to the stranger, but who’s to say what exists and what doesn’t? After all, we can’t know exactly what a ghost is, so we can’t really dismiss it, can we… he mused vaugely, his eyes still wandering over the trees.
He then proceeded to walk forward with sinuous grace to match the quietness of the scenery, though his light limp remained. The fog loomed before them as they neared the trees, and mist wisped about their proceeding paws. The large Guardian entered the woods, the trees closing in around him, the wind seeming to creak in the branches above. See – over there, he murmured suddenly, gesturing with a nod towards the distant fog where strange dark shapes loomed in the mist. Then they disappeared. Hm. I’m not seeing things that aren’t there. After all, if they weren’t there, I wouldn’t see them, painful logic. What would you suggest they are? he soon asked, moving on to be a bit more inclusive.
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Oni
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Okay. That was simply foul. IE crashed right as I was posting. x.o Needless to say, this post isn't going to be as good. -- Okay, maybe it's a little better, but either way, it's damn annoying :P
A single thought leaves a trace.
The wolven Mulder and Scully wandered through the fog like some early episode of X-Files, searching for some beast that likely didn't exist, or so Scully would always say. Lacking imagination cut things down to purely logical thought -- certainly she could think up what someone might do if cornered by a bear, but more abstract thoughts completely escaped the large female. Since she was no storyteller, she didn't exactly see it as much of a loss. If a pup wanted some sort of fantastic tale, they could go bug one of the more child-friendly individuals that populated the valley like ants on a lollypop.
But even with her decision made in advance on what it was the two were seeing, or not seeing, as the case may be, her stride wasn't so arrogant, nor her words calloused and bitter. No, she was moving like she normally did, with her steady gait and furrowed brow. Her silver eyes drifted more than usual, her ears turning to greet every sound that was not made by her own pawfalls, but otherwise she was normal. This was all normal. Upon his next words, Oni's gaze shifted to him for a moment as she began to speak before slowly falling away to return to their search of the brush and fog, "I'd hope that our eyes will see with logic and not go dancing off into some fantastic land of myth. Are we going to prove the existence of ghosts or to figure out what it was that you say you've seen?"
There were shadowy things around, but much of what she saw wasn't of an otherworldly origin -- much of the shades were rather mundane things. Some were trees, tricks of the light through the fog and a broken patch of canopy. Others were the gnarled stalks of some unfortunate shrub that had in its climb withered to naught. Still more were simply an illusion of the lack of the whiteness, but still sufficiently blurred.
In fact, she didn't see much odd at all until the inky male brought to her attention a patch that vanished almost as soon as she got around to notice it. Certainly it was a bit odd, but she wasn't about to scream "gadzooks, a ghost" any time soon. "Shadows maybe, of one sort or another. But that in itself is obvious. Maybe a patch of air in the mist. Speaking of which, I doubt that any word of this is entirely believeable in these conditions. But who's ever heard of seeing ghosts on a bright summer afternoon?" Obviously, it was time to investigate a bit further.
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It seemed that this female sought to use logic and perhaps agreed with his logical tactics and way-of-talking. It was a very rare thing to come across, this shared attitude that both present wolves possessed, but the stranger did not seem surprised or impressed by the other and the same was said for Bronx. They were, after all, both living in the here and now, not to mention following yet another logical route that basically saw no use in positive or negative analysing of one another. He was currently indifferent towards the female.
Prove the existence of ghosts? Bronx glanced side-long at the smaller but still fair-sized female, wondering if that was supposed to be a contradiction of her own words. Hm, was all he said, moving further into the woods so that they were now surrounded by trees.
Bronx’s pace slowed and he came to a halt, glancing along at the female once more, a faint smile at her speak of ghosts in the afternoon, maybe you’ve been influenced by fairytales, he suggested jokingly, though… he gazed up at the trees, the tops of which were shrouded in mist, maybe it was something that disappears as soon as one looks for it. He paused. Like a mirage. He shrugged lightly with a slight frown, having clearly – and logically! – given up on the search. I’m Bronx, he proceeded almost as an afterthought. |
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Whoop. I like Fridays.
A single thought leaves a trace.
What had they come here to try to prove? What were they discovering? The difference between seeking to prove and seeking to discover was a fine line drawn in the striking shades presented by bias. If they went to prove, it would be assumed they were convinced already and that it was almost pointless to try to argue it. But on the other hand, if they just went to discover, it could be anything -- their minds were open to any sort of option, no matter how obsurd, but in the whole they were seaking purely reason.
But what had he chosen? He seemed to discount the matter entirely, and try to thrust the original useage of the word onto her. Nope, that wasn't gonna work, pal. A silver brow raised, "You were the one who first used the term, I do believe. I merely ask if you've made up your mind that's what it was, or if you're content to believe that yes, it might be some sort of mirage, or tree stump, or just another wolf passing by." She couldn't discount the last theory all together, as it was pretty obvious that she wasn't the first one here, nor was he. With the way the valley seemed to change over the course of a month, she never found it surprising when she came across a new scent.
Maybe the male really was still a hangover from when the illness ran through the valley... She gave the thought a stir, but didn't move the pot to the back burner quite yet. Her introduction was short, much like her name, "Oni, of Mount Shadow." But she quickly turned her attention towards the surroundings once again -- they'd need to keep their wits about them if they expected another spectre-sighting. She wandered over towards a particularly deformed and decaying tree, "I bet something like this could easily fool the eye. Not exactly supernatural, thus logical, but I don't think that'd explain shadows vanishing so quickly." She brought a large forepaw forward and hit a loose piece of bark off the tree just to see it fall.
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Unfortunately perhaps for the female, who seemed to be taking things rather seriously, Bronx was in less of a serious mood. Thus, inwardly, he was amused by her plain logic and apparent professionalism, though he himself had used logic in a philosophical sense. If this then that. This, therefore that. It was all part of personality to speak the way he did and he assumed it was the same with her – they had that in common, which was certainly a rare similarity, and that was perhaps why their efforts seemed to be intensified. There were no idiots around to say “what are you on about?”
So on the interior Bronx felt himself slightly amused, in a deadpan sense, by all of this. It was like two atheists were trying to prove the existence of God.
It was clear by now that these “shadows” were too difficult to catch and they weren’t puppies that were going to frolic around and keep trying. So Bronx sat down comfortably, not in a defeated or “I give up” way, but just to suggest that it was a little pointless to continue their chase.
Deciding to take a lighter tactic with the newly-introduced Alpha, Bronx smiled briefly, ever had any experiences with “ghosts”? |
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A single thought leaves a trace.
Apparently Bronx didn't have a scientific bone in his body -- or at least an attention span that lasted longer than three seconds. Oni was generally fairly determined, and would go out of her way to try to prove a point, but now the one who had initiated this whole situation was unwilling to go on with it. Honestly it seemed like a waste to her: they had a perfectly good mystery and now they weren't even willing to go and answer their own questions? Perhaps some issues were best left open for others to answer.
She was pretty much unable to have a non-serious conversation unless it was filled with sarcasm -- her brain wasn't wired properly to make her that friendly. Her eyes wandered a moment before they returned to things not so obscured by fog. "The closest thing I've met is one of my uncles, and that's only because he was not only white, but a bit of a creep, for lack of a better word." She rolled a shoulder in a shrug as she turned slightly. "And no hauntings in your past, I'd imagine?"
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Oh, he would’ve been quite content upon wandering deeper into the woodland (not that it was really big enough to wander too deep into anyway) to discover what these odd shadows were, but it was a bit of a waste of time. After all, they disappeared, so they weren’t shadows, and they certainly weren’t “ghosts” as they’d both surmised. It was Bronx’s plan to go looking for them to begin with, and Oni had followed his lead, so surely it was his call to point out that it really wasn’t worth continuing, if she was unable to do it herself.
Whether or not she had enough logic in her to actually realise that it was a waste of time to continue was irrelevant – Bronx had logic enough for the two of them. Never mind; back to the conversation. Ah, creepy uncles, he mused, there’s a fair few of them about the place. Oni had returned the question so he moved on next to answer her, when I was very, very young I heard my first echoes when I was alone in the mountains, yelling at nothing, he smiled briefly, I thought they were ghosts. How odd it was the things that one could remember.
He paused and then added with amusement, we can continue to look for these ghosts-that-don’t-exist and shadows-that-disappear if you want, but it’d be child’s play. Nothing wrong with a bit of child’s play, mind you. |
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Oni
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Whoops O.o; I coulda sworn I'd replied to this XD
A single thought leaves a trace.
So call her stubborn, but once she set out on things, she expected them to be concluded. Here they were midway through a journey and suddenly they'd hit a wall. But there wasn't much that Oni was willing to do about it at this point. There wasn't anything she really could do, honestly, that didn't make her look like some obnoxious little whelp bent on harassing all the adults 'til their ears fell off and their noses crumpled in from beating their head on a rock at each stupid little suggestion that the unintelligent, overly-imaginative minds happened to come up with. She wasn't like that. Oni wouldn't ever want to be like that.
Shrugging a shoulder at his response, she pondered responding again but decided against it. Bronx didn't seem like the type to care too much about her theories on why things were the way they were. -- Frankly, nobody here had quite impressed her enough for her to tell them both tales and her opinions. One or the other was what most got, and she was quite happy with the fractured picture that painted of herself. Nobody needed to know her, nobody really seemed to want to.
He continued speaking and her ears focused to listen to him, abandoning what had been officially deemed a futile search. Echoes were mysterious things. She'd not taken the time to particularly investigate them but she knew what was required to get some to ocurr. If she thought long enough about it, she'd probably figure it out, but she was never loud enough to have it be drawn to her attention. Now, though, perhaps she would go investigate this particular natural phenomenon when she went back to her mountain. As for the converstation, she gave a bit of a nod, and pulled the corners of her mouth into a sort of amused expression -- as amusing as she could muster. "Oh, then there must have been a whole pack of ghosts after you then -- all after the little black puppy..." She trailed off, almost like some kind of bitter storyteller -- honestly, she was pretty sure that's what created most of the ghost stories... Pups being unknowledgeable. She continued again after a short pause, "Time to head back to the rest of the valley then, I take it, if there's nothing here worth investigating?" She wouldn't be caught dead doing something relating to the play of pups.
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OOC – that’s alright. :P We finish this up now, hm? :)
Bronx returned the smile, well aware that being amused was perhaps something that Oni was not wholly used to. It was not that she seemed humourless (quite the contrary, in fact. They seemed to share a dark and deadpan humour at times), but Bronx knew first-hand of those who were blunt and straight-forward and didn’t tend to dip too often into the extravagant laughs of life. Oni had trailed off as if briefly imagining the sight of “the little black puppy” shocked and confused by the echoes and her imagination was probably right. Though one thing that few could even begin to imagine was the oddness of his eyes when he was a little one. They had been blue, of course, but almost straight away there had been a fiery orange colour around the edges that had of course taken full hold in the end. Very much a metaphor.
Sure, he said simply at her suggestion and got to his paws, taking a few steps back towards the tunnel and then gesturing with a sociable nod that she was most welcome to join him. They’d no doubt cross back into the Salvajes with words enough to say to one another – talk of these unknown lands and what would become of them – where they’d part ways at Nova Mountain and Bronx would vaguely note that he had met Oni, Alpha Female of Mount Shadow and, contrary to popular belief, she wasn’t that bad at all. |
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She was odd. That much was entirely clear, and there was not a damn thing anyone was going to do about it as far as she was concerned. There wasn't a single word that would ever convince her to sit around smiling like some of the daft individuals she'd crossed paths with -- as far as she was concerned, her arrogance was plenty enough to keep her company through the long winter nights. She didn't need to laugh or smile to keep herself amused -- even if in the process she was nearly torturing herself by dealing with the various annoyances that crossed her path. -- A few could relate. Most could not. Oni didn't care to enlighten them if their skull was too dense to penetrate.
But now with this little adventure over it was time for Oni and Bronx to return to lands they found more familiar. She gave a nod, confirming their changed direction, and then set off on the proper vector towards the pass. Games were done, theories trashed, and now things would just get damn boring. And so, before the fog would lift its veil from this new region, the pair set off back to the Salvajes. This week's quota for adventure was now filled.
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