OOC Hey! It's Ruki! :D Been workin' on a new skin, which is why I haven't posted much, and it's finally done! Mostly anyway. Change it to Umber Fields and you should see all the fun. There are bound to be a few kinks in the display, so please tell me if there's anything wrong, or if something just looks odd to you, like if the font's too small. :C I'm thinkin' it might be. Staff ppl should pm me with 100x100 icons. Also the mini-profile circle images are 125x125. I thought they were 100x100 at first, but no, I forgot about the circle border edits. |D Couldn't have gotten it done without the codes from the people in the credits, so silent shoutout to them. Staytuned for more weird updates. Might do some re-arranging of the boards. Anywho, hope you like it!
OLD: 4/04 Ruki says: NEW SEASON! Spring has started! We might start advertising places again now that midterms are over for all of us, and posting is back up. Not exactly OOC news, but Enheit Alpha Sinead has PUPPIES. If you wanna adopt the last one, the adopt thread is HERE! Ody and Raven have their own rules for this, so read them and adopt a pup if y'all want. SPRANG BRAAAAKE.
2/26/15 WHY HELLO! Guess who it is again. Ruki. I've been busy condensing rules and tips into a handy updated guidebook here on THIS PAGE! with the help of my fellow staff buddies. It's super important to read and make sure you get all the fun info down. The newest rule is about ALPHA ACTIVITY, so be sure to read the Lands and Territories section. The gist of it is that yall leaders gotta post once a week. If you don't POOF. No more land for you. This is a new rule, but if you haven't posted within the next few days and haven't been active in a while, you best get on that 'cause yo' land's 'bout to be snatched.
IC Spring is here at last and the land is beginning to flourish with new life once more. Young animals are plentiful and slowly others are rousing out of hibernation. April showers rain down, and springtime flowers are budding out from their winter beds. SPRING will last from April 1st - June 1st
In the dim presence of the moon, red sprayed earth glints in the light; Bodies lunge, falter, and crumple under its watch. But the heavens are not the only spectators tonight. They twist and turn, combatively dancing with great effort, the crowds jeering on with rabid enthusiasm –shouting for blood. A shaggy, ashen, beast lumbers into the valley, its rock walls amplifying word of his arrival. A few heads turn, either by recognition or surprise, but he is otherwise unnoticed as he ambles into the gathering, blending with the mass of wolves. He monitors the spectacle, briefly analyzing the combatants before he wades his way to the center of one gathering, and forcefully presents himself as the next tribute. Another wolf joins him, not of his own free will, but forced by his master.
Fane first learned of these fights during his tenure as a sklavin many years ago, and even now, as a free wolf, he continued to participate. They were once invitation only –a specialized gauntlet to test the mettle of dominors and slaves alike –but now, like so many of the old ways, the rules had changed. Bets could be placed on winners, earning whatever was forfeited, be it the battered warrior or even land itself. No longer was there honor to be had, not that Fane cared either way. He was not here for trinkets or power. He was here for blood. The shrill cry of an announcer signaled the beginning.
The other male was smaller, and frightened, clearly not wanting any part of what he was drafted into. Fane did not care. Wasting little time he rammed his shoulder into his cowering opponent, easily knocking the stunned canine to the ground. Blood filled his jaws as he lunged into the other’s throat, a satisfying crunch echoing his foe’s swift defeat. The crowd went silent, not expecting such an abrupt end, before erupting once more in cries. Fane dropped the now dead wolf, licking blood from his maw, grinning smugly. “Next.”
Another soon stepped forward, another male, but one around the same size as Fane. He seemed undaunted by what had just transpired, earning him a small amount of praise. The two squared up, circling each other before abruptly clashing. Rising off their hind paws they tore into one another, both trying for any exposed or targetable surface. After a few minutes of warm-up, tangling and untangling, Fane decided he’d had enough. The next time they made contact he dug his incisors deep through the other male’s cheek, tearing a chunk of flesh off with it. Dazed by the pain, he stumbled, leaving him exposed; an opportunity the ashen male hastily took advantage of, ending his opponent’s struggle with a final fatal blow.
The fights continued in a similar manner after that. He would toy with them, wear them down and slowly strip them of exposed skin and resistance, before finally drawing everything to a gory finale. Gradually, as the crowd circling him grew larger, wolves brave enough, or stupid enough, to confront him became less and less common. Fane stood there, coated in shimmering maroon, stomping a paw into the wolf he just fell, wishing the creature was the Enheit male who sparked his rage in the first place. “What? No one else? A pity.” Flashing his now dripping fangs a sadistic smirk caressed his features. “It was just starting to get fun.”
If you don't want them to fight/not fight immediately then Fane'll walk out to some side corner to just exist angrily and Deci can find him and talk to him there for your post. c: Whichever you like best <3
The charcoal behemoth approached slowly, savoring the unmistakable tang of death on his tongue as the dust rose around him with each step that he took. The ululating cries of both excitement and agony met his eager ears as he crossed the crimson stained earth, each hair standing on end as he grew closer to the gathered crowd. Corpses littered the ground in various states of decay, the heckling cackle of crows as they argued with vultures over the ruined flesh like music to his auds. Sin – everywhere, there was sin. It clung to their miserable pelts like muck, draped around their shoulders like the coils of an anaconda, slowly tightening with each day that passed. Ah, they reeked of it. Decimus strode through them as if he were a God himself, and eagerly the crowd parted for his mass, perhaps hoping to see him mangle an opponent. His size alone was formidable, and how he would have loved to feel the hot spurt of blood across his tongue…but no, he was not here to partake today; he was here to watch.
Normally Decimus would not hesitate to rip apart those deserving of the retribution he readily offered. They were scum, all of them, and it would be a blessing if he ended their miserable existence. And yet he had left Palais in Suden so that he could come here, so that he could observe the way those smaller and weaker than himself fought so that he could teach her. While Decimus used brute strength and savagery alone to his advantage, such would not work for a slender, delicate thing like Palais. He would need to watch the ones who were small and quick, those who relied heavily on cunning and speed. However, it seemed as if he’d picked a poor day indeed for his task.
A single ebon-hued brute stood in the midst of the desperate crowd, a pile of pathetic bodies surrounding him. Decimus watched as he took down one opponent and then another, quick but ruthless. This was not the small creature of sharp wit that he’d desired, and yet still Decimus was amused by the male. It was so very clear that he was not being forced to participate by a dominor, nor was he doing it to prove a point. No, he was doing it because he enjoyed it, and it was something that Decimus related to on a far deeper level than any other reason. Slowly he stepped forward until he was foremost among those gathered. The crowd tittered and shifted, perhaps thinking that he meant to challenge the deranged brute, but they were wrong. Decimus had no intentions of wasting his time with this one, simply because he had a sneaking suspicion that they would enjoy the feel of pain and blood too much for it to even be considered a fight. An amused smirk found its way to his maw, stormy eyes glistening with pride as he beheld the raging creature before him. Beside him someone snarled angrily, jostling Decimus in his attempt to return to his original place. ”I want him next,” the overconfident brute growled, and Decimus flicked his gaze dismissively towards the much smaller male. Then, without warning, he struck. Crouching low he lashed out with open jaws, ivory canines stained red as they tore into the throat of the offensive animal. The brute screeched and tore away, leaving the majority of his neck in Decimus’ jaws as his pathetic cry morphed into a wet gurgle. Decimus turned away before the body had even touched the earth, the metallic liquid that filled his mouth so intensely satisfying that he nearly groaned aloud. He suppressed the sound as his gaze once more returned to the dark male, his eyes alight from his fresh kill, muzzle still stained red.
”I know of very few who gaze into the face of death and enjoy it,” he said, the deep baritone of his voice slicing through the tense silence. ”Truly, you impress me. What is your name, butcher?”
No matter how many he slaughtered their sacrifice could not placate his restless soul, unsettled in ways he had never experienced before. Ordinarily when he repressed his impulsive nature it was done for personal gain, but this time it was disturbingly different. When Sinead pleaded he faltered and heeded to her wants, acting against his own gnawing hunger to wrench her consort’s heart out through his skull. Why had he complied? Sure, he had sworn himself to her, but it was a false gesture, nothing more than something to keep his mind off his steadily growing confusion. He planned to end her as retribution for saving him, making him feel weak, but the longer he remained in Enheit that goal slipped further into the swirling quagmires that were his thoughts. He couldn’t explain it, and the longer he considered it the more furious he became. A catcall from the crowd brought Fane back to reality, but before he could lash out and silence the whelp another beat him to it.
A formidable wall of canine stood clutching a chunk of what once belonged to the neck of the smaller wolf now crumpled and writhing on the ground. The movement was skilled, precise, as if he had done the same to plenty before. Fane stared at the dark-coated brute, mildly impressed by his vicious tactic. This guy was the first creature he saw tonight who seemed to have any talent at all, not to mention the sheer sense of danger he emanated. There was a glint in his eye as he spoke, as if warning all to tread carefully. He had Fane’s curiosity.
”I know of very few who gaze into the face of death and enjoy it, truly, you impress me. What is your name, butcher?”
Bloodlust dripped off his very being, something Fane was sure the other didn’t need the pile of surrounding bodies to detect in him as well. “Fane. Not that you’ve heard of me.” He grinned toothily at the other’s comment, wondering just what the beast before him was after. It wasn’t like he had anything to lose by playing along. It was evident no one else here was even worth his time. “I could say the same for you, beast. I’m shocked to find a dominor with a pair still lurking in these parts.” Running his eyes across his features he searched his mind for any shreds of information that may lead to the brute’s identification. Faintly he remembered a few whispers of alphas to the west being hulking black beasts, but never heard much more than that. He kept that thought close as he continued, parting the silenced crowd as he exited the center, deciding he was thoroughly bored with the pathetic competition tonight. “So, what’s your story, you here to gawk or did you have business with me?”
Decimus dipped his head in silent agreement, for it was true that he’d never heard of the dark brute. There were very few wolves he encountered whose name he would be bothered to remember, but perhaps this one would be different. Indeed he seemed to radiate a darkness that Decimus wholly related to, and this alone piqued the behemoth’s interest. ”My name is Decimus,” he informed the other male, before a short bark of amusement slid from between his teeth as Fane’s next comment reached his auds. It did indeed seem as if the dominors skulking around this place were particularly unimpressive and cowardly, something that Decimus thought was a terrible waste. He could only imagine how they treated their sklavins, which once more brought his thoughts back to Palais as Fane began to move through the crowd.
“So, what’s your story, you here to gawk or did you have business with me?”
”I came here to observe,” he replied as he strolled alongside beside Fane, taking immense pleasure in the way that the crowd parted before the two. It was not only his size or ferocity that lay at the heart of the cause; they flicked their gazes to Fane as well, unease stirring within their cores. Together he imagined that they were quite the sight, two large, dark beasts who walked so confidently atop the blood-bloated earth. ”I have a sklavin who I must teach to defend herself, and I must learn how it is that those smaller and weaker fight. Due to size and strength alone, my style is much more…ruthless than hers could ever be.” He grinned, knowing without having to ask that Fane would understand, for from what Decimus had seen, his style was much the same. Calculated, to be sure, but cold.
”I am the alpha of Suden, and now that I’ve seen you, I am itching to collect you,” he murmured, almost to himself as his gray eyes darted sideways to observe Fane. ”You would be a wonderfully ferocious addition…and yet you reek of the dry lands.” His words held no hint of insult or slight, only curiosity and slight disappointment. He’d done his research on the packs, and the musky scent of earth and dust that clung to him suggested one in particular. ”Einheit, I’m assuming? I hear that it is ruled by a feisty little she-wolf.” When he’d first heard that both Einheit and Irrsin, both large and notable packs, were ruled by femmes, it had been disappointing. He’d originally hoped to ally with one or the other, perhaps both…but the sex of the alphas alone made this idea less than appealing. He was careful not to allow any of this disappointment to taint his tone; he did not yet know how Fane felt in regards to his alphess, and it was far too soon to stoke the fire. Instead he stopped a good distance away from the gathered crowd, watching as two inky black crows squalled and squabbled over the few remaining bits of a corpse.
”Has she sent you here, or do you come purely for your own enjoyment?”
Bodies parted like frightened cattle before the pair as they walked through the mass of spectators. Heads turned, and those brave enough or stupid enough to lock eyes with either male quickly averted their gaze once noticed. It seemed Fane was not the only one capable of instilling fear into the unruly crowd, as both he and his companion seemed to create an equal amount of discomfort; something which satisfied his tempestuous soul.
Decimus, a name which still rang no mental bells, announced he was here to observe, not for sheer amusement, but rather for pointers. The notes were not for him, he assured Fane, but rather for his sklavin, who evidently was not nearly as massive as its master was. Learning that the brute was alpha of Suden was far more surprising than learning of the male’s purpose within the Streiten, but not overly so. His size and daunting aura perfectly fit the bill for a leader within Ravensbruck and his demonstrated skill in combat proved he was able to defend the position he appeared to hold. He offhandedly wondered if Sinead knew of this beast from the West, and briefly contemplated telling her of his potential. Almost as if Decimus could read his mind his current home was brought up in conversation.
Now that I’ve seen you, I am itching to collect you. You would be a wonderfully ferocious addition…and yet you reek of the dry lands. Einheit, I’m assuming?”
He smirked at the other’s curiosity though found his desire slightly off-putting. Previous… experience made the male jaded, apprehensive of anyone who saw him noteworthy. The only thing to come from praise was enslavement, yet a part of him still appreciated the mention. No one ever saw any worth in him, any positives, until those who captured him mentioned his ferocity. He guessed it was his sole redeeming quality. ‘Sinead seems to think otherwise.’ , a voice whispered from the back of his mind as he scowled inwardly.
I hear that it is ruled by a feisty little she-wolf. Has she sent you here, or do you come purely for your own enjoyment?”
A feeling resembling irritation swept through him at the mention of Enheit’s alpha, though Fane was unsure why. It wasn’t due to dislike of the she-wolf, nor was it the implication that he was here simply to act out orders as if he was a mindless drone. No, it was much more complicated than that, and he didn’t quite understand why, and that only ruffled the male more, not that he let it show. “As an alpha yourself you should know it’s taboo to talk to outsiders about pack affairs.” A small grin crept across his bloodstained features, stopping as his companion did. “No, she did not send me here. I don’t think she cares much for bloodsport, but I’ve never bothered to ask. Though she could hold her own here if she wanted. Feisty is a bit of an understatement.”
He chuckled lightly at his comment, wondering just what Sinead would think of him if she saw how compassionless and brutal he truly was. She was a dominor who kept slaves, and he’d heard of how she’d treated a girl called Chalandra months ago, but still, she didn’t seem as ruthless as most in her position were. He knew she had an idea of his violent past, having very, very, briefly mentioned it during her nursing him back to health at least half a year ago, yet she never inquired more than that. Fane wondered why he suddenly cared so much for what she thought of him, hell, he’d even complemented her earlier. Wrenching himself from his thoughts he continued responding.
“Enjoyment’s a word for it I guess. Today was more like wasting time than anything.” The pits were sort of like an odd combination of anger management, training, and pleasure to him, but tonight’s rounds were rather lackluster. He sighed, clearly disappointed in his recently won matches. “Not one of ‘em even drew blood. What’s the point in a death-match if they’re the only ones even close to dying?” Fane rolled his eyes languidly, expressing the number of fucks he’d given today. “Don’t get me wrong, filleting other wolves is fine and all, but is it too much to ask for them to put up even a little fight on their own? You understand, right?” Not that he needed Decimus to understand, but man, it’d be nice if someone did for once.