Once upon a time, I was in control [Draeg]

[† Demon †]

I ramble.

So much for her will. So much for her sanity. The pain in her heart, in her soul, in her mind was growing. Corridors were crumbling. This had to be done. And so it was. The mixture didn't take too long to find; once given to her by her mother, she knew of its power. Soon enough, she had found herself inside the castle, moonlight willed to life by the pregnant halo. The dark femme took her drug with pain and it hurt her to do it, but she had no choice. There was no way she could resist the urge of her addiction. Above all, the Bitch held true, keeping claws in her neck and shoulders; whispering sweet lies into her ears. Ghostly mist rose in the castle, and outside, thick rain drowned out the rest of the world. She knew it was going to rain, the air was thick with it. Her left paw ached, and she knew that was a sign of the 'poison' working. It wasn't unusual for it to ache now; it was just as it she was arthritic. In truth, she might have been; the ebony beast was stronger on her left side and for a good deal of time, it showed. Quiet rain made it obvious no one would be around, and she was alone. So very, very alone...

That was when her body began to shake. It shook without her controlling it, shook as if she was breaking down. In reality, she was. Slowly, she could feel her madness breaking out, she felt it seeping into her mind. Each sun, she could see herself daring, feel herself getting closer to the edge of reality. The drug was done, and her paws reached into thick dark nothingness, running through it before she grabbed onto something tightly. Teeth clenched, and she shut her eyes, pinning auds back to skull as a sudden ambush of voices hit her. Most seemed like nonsense, none she could really understand, a babble of information which she cared nothing for. Soon the noise level grew to that of rush hour traffic; a thousand accusing voices screaming at her. Her grip tightened, and she felt a claw dig into her paw. Good pain. Quietly in the babble of noise, her eyes opened and she was met with a sight that nobody would have wanted to see in this time, this place, or in this drug induced madness.

Leohlic. But not the healthy male who had once been of Balkar, no. Leohlic as he had been when Demon found him. But in all that truth as he stood now was worse. The cancerous bile of his madness consumed nearly half his face, rotting it black and showing the pale bone and red muscle beneath. The rest of his body was like that too, half and half. Like he was molting. Like he had been hit by a truck. But his face was the worst, because his eyes were still there; mad, grinning eyes that flickered like fire. Demon recoiled physically, jerking back as the corpse grinned from tinted maw with yellow, and rotted teeth. It's mouth opened and it spoke, a voice cracked and horrible; like listening to a varg who had been shot through the throat. What's wrong Demon? Don't you remember your dear old friend?[/color] Demon felt hackles on the back of her neck rising. No, this was wrong. Wrong. Then, divine inspiration came-- kill the thing. Get him out of here. Sudden snarl broke her face, and Demon swung claws toward the wolf.

But a heavy paw caught her own. The wolf was now as angry as herself. Powerful body (Leohlic had always been psychically stronger than Demon) twisted the paw down, and Demon let out a growl before her form was slammed to the ground. Bile filled face was close to her own, and she was choking on the stench of madness... not to mention the paw around her neck. Grinning like a devil, Leohlic's hell filled eyes met her own. Your eyes have changed... funny, they once looked sane... like Kanis'... Twisting did nothing, the grip was too strong. Demon coughed and bared her teeth, growling out a one word response to the mention of her father. "Wench.." Leohlic laughed, a mad laugh that echoed that of something birthed from hell. Part of his face flecked off and now his teeth were bared in a never-ending grin. yeah, he was. A damned good one. You take after him, you know... with all your filthy lovers. Fury suddenly overcame her. With a surge of anger, Demon kicked Leohlic in the chest and sent him back. He fell hard and hacked, lifting his head up as dark shadowed fell over his face. Across from her, Leohlic rose and snarled, pointing an accusing gaze at the femme. You are nothing. I MADE YOU THE WAY YOU ARE! YOU HAVE THE MARK OF INSANITY! Her left paw began to bleed, pouring blood onto the floor. Slamming her optics closed, Demon screamed. "Leave me alone!" You are alone...

Poisoned eyes immediately reopened. Suddenly, she was no longer in the castle, and the scent of madness was gone. Instead she was in a place she had only once been before. The area between Ge-Rad, and Koran. The trees were at her back, but she could not make them out clearly-- thick fog hung everywhere, and a decent foot of it circled her paws. This was no problem for her though; she enjoyed the rush of oncoming storms. Yet, it was very quiet. So quiet in fact, that it was unnerving. Demon looked around, dark fur-covered muscles rippling with this motion like ghostly shadow. She could not see what lay before her, it was drowning in fog and hidden from her view. But dimly she could make out a form moving toward her. As the moments ticked on, she was aware that her paw was still bleeding. Leohlic had left her go, but made her remember what he had done. Above all others, what she had done. Demon felt something stir in her, a feeling she didn't know how to describe. And then, the form across from her become clear and confusion danced in blood-stained pools that reflected in her optics.

"Draeg?"

[Draeg]

Draeg could hardly see in the dense fog that covered the whole of Ge-Rad, shrouding his vision and rendering his sense of sight nearly useless. It was late and by all rights the Dragga of Ge-Rad should be asleep alongside the rest of his family, however the amber varg took his newfound duties very seriously and had wanted to get one last patrol in before turning in for the night. The thought that someone might sneak into Ge-Rad to steal the packs prey without asking Larka’s Blessing was an all to real threat, one that Draeg wasn’t looking forward to and wanted to avoid at all cost. It had yet to happen of course, just about every varg that had come within the pack’s boundaries had joined the pack and become a member of Ge-Rad. But still, that didn’t mean it eventually wouldn’t happen.

Giving the air a quick sniff the amber wolf scented the air for any foreign scents that might betray an intruder in his land and reveal their whereabouts to him so that he might drive them out before they gained too much of a foothold for him to rid himself of without resulting to drastic measures. The fog impaired his sense of smell even worse than it had his sight, the moisture in the air diluted many of the scents that had hung in the air and clung to the dying vegetation making it difficult for Draeg to determine whether anyone had crossed the invisible boundary line that made up of the borders of Ge-Rad. He was about ready to call it a night when a familiar, yet clearly foreign, scent reached his nose causing him to lift his tail thoughtfully as he struggled to recall the identity of its owner, however try as he might the scent was too weak for Draeg to determine its origins.

Deciding to investigate he padded outside the boundaries of Ge-Rad and into the no-mann’s land, but not before taking the time to renew the scent markers lining his territory. He moved cautiously through the trees, completely alert and wary of his surroundings less he find himself in the midst of an ambush. After a time he became distinctly aware of something screaming out in the distance along with the familiar scent of blood which filled his nostrils and caused his jaws to salver, craning his head forward and peering through the mist the amber varg was soon able to distinguish the form of another varg lurking in the mist. Moving cautiously through the fog he drew closer, the dragga’s eyes widening in recognition as he recognized the stranger to be his friend Demon, the lead warrior of Koran. “Demon?” he growled as he made his way over to the ebony-furred fae. “What are you doing here?”

Looking at her Draeg noticed that she was trembling violently and that blood seeped out from her left paw and onto the ground, the fur around her injured limb soaking up the crimson liquid while the rest pooled on to the damp ground around her. A look of confusion was plain on her beautiful features and it was to Draeg that she had no real idea where she was, curious as to what she was doing so far from her home within the boundaries of Koran the Dragga of Ge-Rad cast her a questioning look before bending down to tend to her injured foot. “Better get this cleaned up.” he sighed, rolling his soft tongue along her injured foot in an attempt to keep it clean. “Trouble at home I take it?”

[† Demon †]

It was him, but it was different. Demon had never before figured that another wolf would see her in such a state; well all apart from her mother. The wench had spoken of these sins, but never had she been caught. Demon felt some unearthly feeling, something cold. Cold. They were cold. Maybe that was why the fog was still here--it was cold. Demon didn't know if she was out of the castle or back in between the boundaries. Perhaps they were only in her mind. Not one to know, nor care now, Demon could not help but look back at Draeg as he now was licking her wounds. She had sharp pain, yes; but she found comfort deep within it--the stinging thrill was superior after all. If he had not become enemies with Nocturnia, she would have asked him what he thought about about her and Nocturnia. But his opinion, for bearing that of the hate kind, was stuck. Stuck yes, without a doubt, but maybe -just maybe- Demon could persuade the male otherwise. Diverting orbs of green, she watched as iris-less eyes stared back at her, and in her surprise she heard his voice distantly-- a voice from a dream it seemed. Clear but distant, but still there.

How strange this had to look. Demon was in a mess. In her den the fight had happened--she had done it all herself. her beautiful dark pelt was a mess, she had tried to choke herself, and dirt clung to her fur. Opium stunk in the mists of her scent, and, unsurprisingly, there was a dim gleam of insanity in her eye. For all of it, she look like a psycho. She looked like she felt disheveled and broken. For a moment, she pondered on backing away, but didn't. No, she stayed where she was, paws keeping her as upright as possible, a slow rocking motion caused her to sway. Looking at Draeg's mist-tainted form it did not surprise her that he had come to find her; after all, she had been screaming. Partially, she knew she had been caught, and accepted, but she had to be sure the little wolf wouldn't tell of her darkest secret. It hurt unless you second guessed things; because then they would turn around and attack your back.

"I can see you Draeg... but you sound so far away... Draeg, what--"

During this, her light purred speaking, she reached out with her right paw; scarred from her own worst nightmares. Yes, he was seemingly unreal; but perhaps she could still touch him. Feel him. Demon did not know what to expect, but it certainly wasn't what she got. No, as her paw reached what was 'real' Draeg's nose, she was met with a sudden cold. And then, same a blast of noise, images and pain that cut her off in a sudden breathless yelp and due to her being standing, she fell onto the earth. Jerking like she had been electrocuted. Her paw went back and she ran her pink tongue over the stinging patch of burnt fur. Startled eyes stayed on him as they suddenly saw a thousand things he had. She saw his birth, his parents; all these years danced through her pretty little skull like a runaway train.

She saw Firefly, she saw Cwen, she saw hundreds of different faces of who had once been of this world. She saw herself for a moment, and then she saw Nocturnia. He had been thinking of him. Oh Tor, it hurt, she felt all the pain he did at the sight of his enemy in his mind. And then she saw the sky, powerful and dangerous, saw the lightning bolt. It crashed between her shoulders, and she would have screamed but she had no time. The pain was gone, and the dim smell of electricity; charred fur and flesh remained. The green in her eye gleamed with confusion, and her left ear was ringing. Surprise was replaced with understanding for her sweet, sweet drug, and yet there still lingered some fear. Fear of what she now knew. Had seen. Had felt. Tilting her head slightly, as she licked her left paw, she spoke fast, and panicky.

"I saw it. I saw it all... how you grew up, Draeg. How are... no... why are you here?"

Snitch. Friend. He was something of the two. Demon did not know which one yet, but dimly she was reminded of something she had once been told. A soul who tastes the beauty of man's ways cannot loose the addiction the easy way. True love of the drug would hold them to it until they found another obsession. Once before she had met with someone who had claimed to have taken the 'poison' and had seen their own death. A graying male who spoke of revenge. There had been no belief in those words though. Demon thought the varg was mad, and maybe he had been. But by Tor's head, they were all mad here.

[Draeg]

Just one look at Demon and Draeg could see that the green-eyed femme was a wreck, her fur looked as though it had been meshed and mangled together during some kind of scuffle and she reeked of some strange foreign scent which blotted out her scent entirely, she swayed on her paws and she had a wild look in her eyes, the normally her poison green orbs were unusually dull and dark red circles could be seen tracing the rims of her eyes.

As she started babbling incoherently, mumbling to herself and speaking to him in a strange manner, as though she wasn’t even sure that he was actually there and she was distant from everything around her causing Draeg to wonder if she had lost the last semblance of sanity that she had possessed sometime after his visit to see her in homepack of Koran. That had been the night he had accidentally wandered within the pack’s boundaries during a particularly hard hunt, he had been successful in making the kill but he had wandered too far within the packs territory for comfort. While there had stumbled upon Demon fawning over her newborn son, a pup with fur like his mother by the name of Lestat, the two had chatted for a while and shared a brief meal before the amber varg had been forced to return to his place in the woods to tend to his mate and current Drappa, Cwen, who had also just given birth only days before. Draeg blinked in surprise as Demon suddenly reached out with her injured paw and pressed it against his nose, apparently trying to determine whether or not he was really there or not. She drew it back almost immediately, collapsing to the ground with a yelp shortly afterwards and writhing about wildly, giving Draeg the impression that she was in agony.

Before Draeg could even make amore to help her it was over, Demon lay on the ground caressing her injured paw with her soft, pink tongue as though the merely touching the amber varg had burnt it. Casting his friend a questioning look the amber Dragga waved a paw in front of her face when she entered into a strange trance, trying to draw out a response from the scarred femme and determine whether she was all right or not. He made to speak but she cut him off, words of confusion spurting from her maw at rapid pace so that Draeg could barely understand what she was saying at all. “Whoa, one second! Calm down for Garm’s sake! I’m here because you were making a ruckus just outside my pack’s territory so I came to investigate.” He explained. “Now what exactly are you talking about? How could you have saw how I grew up? And what’s wrong with you, with your scent?”

[† Demon †]

bad post today--writers block.

There was something distant in her, something so far out there that she knew with startling clarity what was somehow going on. She had always been able to analyze at a distance; something which might be considered cold to some vargs. It was natural for her though, it always had been. When she had seen Frecne falling apart, she got out before it collapsed. She watched a mutiny, an assassination, and above all else, a murder. And she had felt nothing during any of it. It had not mattered then, and she knew it would never matter now, if the events decided to happen again. There was a horrible sort of distant, silent thing that lived in her; it seemed to detach herself from reality--more often these days too. It was one of the main reasons she had formed her own little world. Only recently had that reality begun to slip into this one. Draeg couldn't see it--he could not see Leohlic trying to strangle her, and he (and she, herself, even though she might not have accepted it) could realize that it was actually her. That was her madness, and she was fighting it. The madness, however, also granted her insight. It was a great awakening for the ebony wolf.

The anti-tor sat there, licking her paw, and watching this male. Silently, she listened as he spoke; listened as the confusion in his voice came out. He didn't have to explain--Demon could feel it deep inside of her. To touch him? For all of it, Demon understood. She would not have wanted to put herself in his position. Draeg had seen her rough life and understood the music that she alone heard. And it was severely haunting that she had been through it all, and was not even that old. She had just reached into the life of Markaz at that point, and even that was tainted by madness, and addiction; hatred and sorrow. She knew shortly she would have to find a way to escape her madness--she could not do it here. They would see it. And they couldn't. On came his voice again, and without a single blink, she kept her poisoned optics on his own, looking into the reality of his soul. A question was asked, and the dark female shifted dumbly; fleets of though in her eyes. She understood. She always had.

After a pause did he speak again, and he asked about her scent. Another shift, but this was not dumb. This was quiet and understanding, all too real. As he spoke to her as though being friends, a smile passed over her mad looking facade. A genuine, unique smile of innocence. And that turned her worn, dark madness into something she once had been, could be. It was like looking at an angel from a dream, an angel who would only exist in another reality. When her shadowed maw did open, her voice; still rough from earlier, came out quietly. "For all my problems, this is nothing. I am caring for myself as much as I can... and I will tell myself of your friendlyness..." She paused, a smile glittering behind the fading madness within her orbs. "It's an honor to know you still call me a friend, Draeg.. and even though I've done a horrible thing lately, I believe you as one of my truest..."

Rising from her shaky haunches, the Bitch nearly stumbled again, but caught herself inches away from collapsing. In this reality, she could see other thoughts behind the words Draeg spoke; just as he could see a shadow of madness, which was purely her own, behind her.

Maybe they were both mad. Only time would tell...

[Draeg]

Shifting about uncomfortably Draeg couldn’t help but shuffle his paws awkwardly beneath him as Demon kept her gaze focused on him, her lime-green eyes peering deeply into his own amber ones as though she were trying to look into the very depths of his soul. She remained this way for a moment or two, the whole time never blinking once, before finally shifting about slightly upon hearing his first question, a flicker of thought passing through her bloodshot eyes and notifying the Dragga of Ge-Rad that his friend was at least, for the most part, aware of her surroundings. Draeg watched as the black furred fae shifted herself once again in response to his next question, smiling warmly at him as she quietly spoke in an unusually rough tone of voice.

The fact that Demon was actually smiling alone was enough to surprise the amber furred he-varg who was more accustomed to seeing his friends darker and more cynical side, usually when the Koran warrior smiled in the past it had been a sinister sight more often then not brought on by her rather frequent moments of madness that often possessed her for a various periods of time. However her smile was different this time, sincere, innocent, similar to ones she had given him during their night together in the manmade walls of the stone den. Draeg felt his face grow hot as he vividly recalled his night with black furred fae, recalling how, through a mixture of seduction and some primal instinct, they had mated within the ancient stone structure. He still hadn’t told either Cwen or Firefly about the incident and something in the back of his mind told him that he should keep it that way, though by all rights Draeg had done nothing wrong chances were that neither of his mates would be too thrilled to learn of his little fling with Demon despite the fact that it had been before he had met them. Or had it been after? Draeg couldn’t remember, like all lera the memory was beginning to fade so that he could only remember fragments of what had happened though he could still recall all most of the memorable parts.

After a moment of reflecting on his thoughts the amber varg concluded that it probably didn’t really matter now anyway seeing as it had only happened once, he and Demon rarely saw each other these days and nothing had resulted from their night together save for the disintegration of the fae’s relationship with her mate for which Draeg still blamed himself. He couldn’t help but feel his chest swell up slightly with pride as he listened silently to his friend’s words, returning her smile as he watched the madness shone wildly in her emerald orbs slowly begin to fade from view. “Regardless of what you may have done since our last meeting you are still my friend, I am both pleased and grateful that you still consider me to be yours considering the pain I may have caused you.” He growled, his bushy tail wagging back and forth with pleasure.

Demon staggered to her feet and Draeg quickly jumped to her side as she nearly fell back to the ground, placing himself firmly against her side the amber varg did his best to support the black drappa’s bulk and keep her from collapsing again. He felt awkward about being so close to the she-varg that had been his lover for one night especially now that he had acquired himself not just one but two mates and six pups in which he was constantly struggling to please, however Draeg quickly shook the feeling off. Demon was injured and obviously wasn’t herself this night so there was no harm in tending to her injured paw or keeping her upright for the time being, and in either case she hadn’t aimlessly wandered into Ge-Rad without Larka’s Blessing so no harm had been done. “Careful now, I don’t want you falling over and hurting yourself especially when you’re so far away from Koran.” He growled kindly. “Now could you kindly tell me what you meant when you said you saw how I grew up? Have you gained the power of the Sight or did you go the vale of shadows to pay Mayan a visit? And what happened to your scent, you smell like nothing I’ve ever smelled before.”

[† Demon †]

im suffering from majoooor writers block. my brain was stumped. i tried though...i really did!

The silence was murder. Literally. Something was stirring in her, a memory of some sort; it sent anger through her spine. Eyes of amber came into her mind, flooding each corridor with the haunting gaze, a voice floating on the wind. She could hear it; yet, as before, it was just like a dream. This was natural for her, memories would come and go--whether she allowed it or not. She watched in silence, a lover, a family, and above everything else, a destruction of sanity. She felt nothing. The anger faded, orbs dilated as she turned back to Draeg. It was a horrible silence, a distant silence. It wasn't well-known about their little fling, Demon hardly remembered it herself these days; her mind blocked it. Only the truly horrible memories would come back, the ones that 'opium' allowed. Above all else, she was slowly drifting into nothingness, turning into something she had killed many years ago--her dear ol' daddy.

Demon sat there for a moment, regaining her surroundings once more. The smell of burnt fur cut into her nostrils, a cringe on her face. Pinning her ears around slightly, every sound relentlessly passing through her skull, she watched him. For all of it, she knew of his thoughts--the thoughts of what had happened many suns ago; between them. A smiling figure appeared in her mind, nothing but a cruel glimpse at what she had done many days after. It was then she realized he had asked questions. Spinning her black head back round to face him, she avoided his gaze. The questions slowly coming back into her memory. He made it sound like he thought she was mad. This made her chuckle. Maybe the Bitch was mad, maybe she was insane. Who knew--she certainly didn't...and that was how she liked it.

Feeling his form against her, she gave a weak snarl. Yet, gave in to the help hastily--she was too 'out of it' to care. In reality, this femme was too independent for her own good, she had to be. Nobody had been, or was there for her tortured little soul. She had learned to be a one-varg army, and that was her fun in life. Destroying others lives. A smirk stole her lips after a while. For it all, Demon prided herself on being one of the only femmes in the valley who had not only a reputation as 'evil', but as a 'varg-eater'. She had had four litters already--each passing into death very quickly. Maybe a fifth was to come; she truly hoped so. It was her only dream to plague the world with her evil...and what made it better was that the father of these cursed wenches would be no other than fellow dark-sider, Nocturnia Diiore. It was perfecto....And planned.

"It doesn't matter what I said earlier." A pause followed. This tone was snapped, and harsh--as though telling him to watch his place, and his tongue for that matter. She cared not for his status; he was out of pack lands, he had no special rights here; and he never would in the eyes of this beast. She threw all logic for titles and labels away. A real wolf earn their ranks through fights, and leadership--not by popularity. This is what she felt he had done...along with many others who thought in similarity. The thin line between good and evil was slowly being crossed again; her darker side rearing its pretty face once more. For it all, Demon was sure that it hadn't sucked enough energy from her yet; it needed a victim...Draeg.

She laughed. A cruel, yet crystallized laugh--something that would send shivers down any spine. Optics flashed dangerously. She was poison; the warning was clear. For all to see. "Me? Possess the Sight? Ha!" She paused, cruel laughter dancing like fire in its emerald casing. "Any yahoo can claim they have the Sight. It's all a bunch of nothingness, and useless pup tales. We are varg. We fight for our right to survive--tooth and claw. NOT magic, or whatever poison they call it nowdays..." She smirked. There was truth in her words, deep down at least. Yet, no one would want to see it; the insanity would be too great. Once upon a time, Demon would have believed in such rubbish, but she had grown braincells since then--it appeared that this Dragga had not.

Moving herself from the leaning post entitled Draeg, she turned her back to him. Orbs sparkled as she watched into mists; the swirling cloud forming faces. She saw Leohlic, Kanis, Darkling, and many more. They haunted her every moment--real goddamn minions of Wolfbane himself. She snorted. Her thoughts her absurd, and unthinkable to any normal mind it seemed. Yet, what was normal? For it all, she could be the normal one--the rest really insane. Although, it was highly unlikely...she was unique. "Oh, and as for my scent...why should you care? After all, we both know how obsessed you are with that little memory of yours...oh! whoop-di-do. Draeg, Mr. high and mighty...he got to have a go at the man-eating Demon...he got to taste the newest slice of her pie..." She paused, anger flaring up in secondary spurts, rather than its usual minute spurts. A growl forming in her throat. "I'm sick of it Draeg...!"