Final Descent [Joining]

[Zane]

I'm not crazy....

The sky was alive this night, boiling with color and intensity. Blood red gashes slashed through the clouds, setting them aglow like deep purple bruises against the god's skin. The slim wolf smiled at this display, pleased with the images of carnage such colors conjured in his mind. His fiery eyes were blazing in the coming darkness, full of the indulgent memories he carried, full of the desire they caused. Inclining his sculpted head toward the heavens, the wolf called out, his voice haunting and cold against the land's blanket of serenity. It didn't take long though for his voice to echo back out of existence, for the wolf could never keep his song up long. Soon enough he was overwhelmed with the memories, with the desire, with everything that had caused him to howl in the first place and when that happened the male was more inclined to erupt in a fit of private laughter then continue to entertain the forest with his ghastly melody.

Turning away from the painted wounds, the wolf walked slowly toward an area that was growing even darker then the sky. The hellish lands of the Balkar pack stood out like a burnt scar upon the ground, casting out both a sense of despair and an equally strong ora of foreboding. One that warned any and all creature to stay far away, provided they wished to continue living. Yet it was these qualities, these devilish intentions, that drew the wolf closer. That called him home. Slinking down the small hill from which he stood, the male walked on small agile paws. His lithe body was covered in a pelt as dark as the abyss, flawless in it's color, dark as his mind. His ears twitched alertly, moving this way and that as they teased the air for any sounds, any movements he might find interesting. Plastered upon his face was was a cracked and twisted grin. Sharp teeth jumped out from beneath his dark lips, cruel and vicious in the shape, dripping with saliva in their insatiable hunger. With his movements the scent of death mingled in the air, wafting off his pelt in small waves. Remnants of his past kills, of the company he kept, of the places within which he often dwelled. Though most startling of all were the wolf's eyes, intense and bright with a hidden fire. Their orangey hue stood out like bright lights against his skin, luring the naive and lost to come ever closer.

Sharp, inky talons dug into the soft earth as he went, slithering across the ground. The wolf's body was hunched, bent low in a perpetual stalk. His chest all but scraped the dead grass, shoulder blades jutting up like small mountains from his back. Though smaller in stature, his form was trained to near perfection. Light muscles lurked under his dark cloak, ready to spring into action, ready to participate in even the longest of runs. The wolf was no fighter, that much was evident, but he knew his strengths. He knew them and he used them well.

Nearing the boarder of his new intended home, the wolf stopped once more lifting his dark nose to the slight breeze. Everything was thick with the scent of the Night Hunters, making it difficult for him to discern was an old trail and what indicated that another soul was near. Moving still slower, the wolf intertwined himself into the landscape, slinking between trees and brush as he went. Suddenly his voice came, low and hissing in nature. "Night Hunters...", he whispered. "Where are the feared Night Hunters? The infamous Balkan fighters..." His words slurred together, melding into one rushing breath. Still each work seemed drawn out in syllable, passing between his teeth with the same techniques as the fork-tongued reptiles. "Come out, come out where ever you are...", he breathed. "I ask for the blessing of the pack. I ask for you to bring me home."

....I'm just a little unwell.

[Carnage]

Cover up your face
You can't run the race
The pace is too fast
You just won't last

Shadows flickered across the uneven terrain, gaining ground over the retreating light. In this perpetual game of cat and mouse, darkness was always the victor. Even with the coming of the dawn the demons could rest assured knowing that the shady contender was merely picking its battles, waiting for the prime moment to strike and claim control over the land once more. The cowardly sun was on the run now, his fleeing form blazing a tell-tale trail across the sky. Sprawled across the heavens was a canvas of orange and yellow, with vibrant reds and magentas distributed throughout; clouds with golden lining billowed lazily along, caring not which side held reign over the domain.

The impressive display put on by the retreating Fenris held no sway over the Dark Lands. Appropriately dubbed, the cursed territory did not tolerate the sun's rays. Gnarled trees curled protectively over the hardened ground, acting as a barrier between the Land of the Damned and the outside world. Emerging from the portal of trees was the colossal form of a hell-spawned Lacan. Trumping through the forest his steps were not careful or calculated. He lumbered on without direction, moving where he pleased. With his size rivaling that of an ursine rather than any sort of wolf [save of course, for the current First of the Balkar, Carcharoth], there was not a soul that could heckle him or give him gall. His stride was long and confident, he feared nothing and had no reason to fret over many of the issues that faced the average Varg. Sheer strength and the power of intimidation went a long way when a desire plagued your mind. His bodice was cloaked in a thick pelt of ebon and flame, the lighter hue shone preternaturally in the waning light now that he was out in the open.

His leizurely stroll was interrupted when, unexpectedly, a foreign voice erupted on the wind. Cracking through the sky it left only the eerie stillness of silence in its wake after the final notes of the melodical call fizzled out into echoes. Large,pointed auds pricked up instantly, pinpointing the location of the unfortunate Kerl. Lucky for the stranger he had been courteous enough to utter Tratto's Blessing. The pleasantry, in truth, held little merit in Balkan Lands. Rarely did the brutes themselves bother to request passage, rather, they stormed upon foreign grounds unwelcome and unhindered. Of course, this did not stop them from using it against wary passerby when they failed to offer such a civility. Of course, in these lands, even the smallest misdemeanor was punishable by death without so much as a trial.

Without further hesitation he quickened his pace, his long, ebon talons tearing through the turf beneath his massive form, leaving tread marks and upturned earth where he had passed. Charging through the trees, his breath surged in deep exhalations; the corners of his mouth pulled up into a smile as his maw hung wide open. As he neared the border, hushed whispers drifted to his ears on the wind. he was being beckoned, called forth, as desperate dabblers in the occult attempted to summon The Dark Lord from the deepest reaches of hell. This stranger would find himself more successful than the other fools, though he might also find himself to be more foolish and unfortunate. He would get his wish, the arrival of his apparition. Caring not to slow his pace and make a stealthy introduction, the brute rushed full-speed towards the dividing line of the territory, threatening to plow down the trespasser where he stood. The ground quaked with his ungainly approach, the tall grass was whipped into a frenzy behind the black and orange streak of muscle and cunning.

Locked in his sights now was the stranger, the space between his light, agile form and the hulking, unstoppable mass of the brute was closing quicker by the second. His heart pulsing to match the rhythmic pounding of his large paws against the earth, Carnage slowed only a few yards from the stranger, kicking up much debris in the process and sending up a wave of dust. Peering down at the grinning fool, he found himself stricken by deja vu. He had seen this male before, the cunning snake has slithered his way to the Stone Castle. He had made his acquaintance already, and had even been anticipating this reunion. "My, we do look familiar, don't we?" his rasping vocals boomed from his throat as he towered over the smaller male. "You should be careful when summoning demons, boy." His voice had turned stern, and despite him having met the younger male before, his attitude now was unbiased. "There's no rule to dictate that they'll be on your side." Fiery eyes narrowed against their equally bright counterparts. "Now.. what exactly was it you expected to find here?" His sides were still heaving with his deep breaths, his stance was the epitamy of dominance with his muscles tense and rigid, his thick plume draped proudly over the orange patch on his lower back as he anticipated what, for Zane's sake, better be a worthwhile reply.

[Zane]

The forest rumbled around him, booming with the coming effects of whomever his words had summoned. Licking his dark maw, the wolf looked on ahead, his bright eyes wide with anticipation. Pulling himself up into the typical stance of his brethren, the male stood tall to meet the charging force, for he did not know doubt, he did not know fear. Rather the black mann saw the world as a claim-less landscape where everything had a price, a turning point, where everything was up for grabs. Within his own clouded mind, the wolf saw himself in control. Better yet he saw himself as a needed force, an intricate part of the world's turning. Without him, things would soon become unbalanced, lost, devoid of the stunning beauty he so often sought.

As the pursuing beast finally crashed through the chocking foliage, the wolf took in a sight that while familiar to him was no less impressive. Towering over his own streamlined body, the Balkan male loomed down at the wolf, muscles packed upon his massive form. Fire as bright as his own eyes blazed out against the demon's coat, igniting him in a vibrant glow. "Why Carnage...", he hissed in response to the first gruff words to come from the monster's throat. "I've missed you too. No doubt that was one of my chief reasons for venturing to these....picturesque lands." Flashing his teeth at the mann, Zane crouched within his shadows, comforted by the extra darkness they brought. Though it seemed that would be the end of their familiar pleasantries, for soon enough a second statement was issued by the powerful wolf, gruff and chiding in nature. "Yesss..", Zane murmured in response, breath wisping between his teeth. "Just as the demons must be careful...even in their plane of unquestioned greatness, for there are those that care little of alliances who may one day rise to stab them in the back." Though fear was not a working category in his brain, the male was fluent in where the 'dangerous ground' was. He often found the thin ice of a situation, treading it with practiced ease and finesse, craving the anger that sometime came from his opponents, wanting to see the emotion well within them like a volcano waiting to erupt. Still, mind games were not for today's meeting...sadly the wolf had more pressing matters.

"I come for a simple business arangment...", he slurred. I kind of 'I help you, you help me' sorta situation. You see...I may be 'lost' to some, but I'm not so far gone that I haven't hear the wind's whisperings. There is something brewing, I'm sure. Something that will call the packs to action." He paused for a moment, eying his surroundings. "Though I could be wrong. I do have a bit of a one track mind at times...focusing on only...a few strong desires." Though the wolf had started this moment sounding strangely lucid, it hadn't taken long for such qualities to fade. Soon enough his speech degraded into its characteristic utterings, whispers and thoughts that often he was the only one to understand. "I search for a place of inhabitance.", he finally hissed. "Traveling from place to place is well in good...but I've found the need for a permanent location. A place within which I can truly be at peace with my secrets. You see...there are many yet to have learned to stay away from the dark corners of the earth, that do not understand the concept of misplaced curiosity...and so I am often bothered, bothered in my meditations. But here? Why...no one would dare stray into Balkan lands, would they?" Stepping up closer to the hulking mass, Zane tilted his face up to meet that of Carnage's.

"In return for refuage...", he continued. "I can offer the Balkan pack my services. I'm no scrapper, sure enough...but I've got my skills. Skills that may well prove useful in the future. Times when perhaps...more of an example needs making. Perhaps more then the normal 'rip and tear' tactics of the Night Hunters can offer." The wolf's eyes were aglow with their hidden fire, fueled by both the moon and the male's own blazing ambition. "I'm not particular...", he slurred. "I'd serve for any group that you have, any plot that you have burning in your dark hearts...in return I ask only for a place in these lands. A chance to be welcomed...as much as possible, until I am ready to venture out again on another errand. Surely the Balkar can find a spot for my humble soul." Customary grin plastered against his face, Zane watched and waited. Eager to see the result of his words, whatever they happened to be.

[Carnie, hopefully this works out alright. I'm don't know if it will rub the Balkar the wrong way or what...but I wasn't sure what else to say. Feel free to PM with concerns.]

[Carnage]

As the sinuous mongrel spoke his name, his features remained rigid, his expression baring no change at the male's recognition of his name. Clever flames danced sporadically in the lithe male's eyes, his cunning coming aross strong in the smile that alighted his maw. There was no doubt that the smaller male had potential, his streamlined body mixed well with his lean muscles. He had the appearance of a sneak who could travel quickly over lengthy distances, his swift sprinting leaving no trace of where he had been only moments before. There was a Balkan division dedicated solely to such finesse; the Nihtgenge served as the emisaries of the Night Hunters. Their footfalls went unheard while their senses took in every detail. Defamation plagued their titles, though it was they who retrieved the pack's most valued information. Carnage could easily see the conniving, secretive form of Zane easing his way into a Nihtgenge position.

The male's words, at first, held a sense of desperation. He seemed to be clinging to the fact that they had shared an encounter prior to this one, as though it would shift Carnage's thoughts or alter his motives. As far as the fiery Lacan was concerned the slate had been wiped clean. They had met off Balkan territory where they had shared a brief exchange of petty words. No real information had been revealed, none of consequence, anyway. This mann would be put to the test like all before him, the Balkar did not rely on word alone to gain admission. Even after new members stalked through the dark forest, eyes would be upon them, watching them closely, intently, for days, maybe even weeks.

Incessant mumbling bubbled forth from the maw of the wolf before him. His tone had changed drastically to one of arrogance. He had something that the Balkar could not live without, or so he said, and his calculated words seemed to hint at betrayal should his request be denied. With one fluent motion the male raised his arm, his massive paw swept through the air, his claws forcefully impacting the male's sleek face. His expression had grown animated, his glowing eyes wide with the frenzy that now enveloped his mind. "Don't you think for a moment that you hold any leverage over this pack!" His harsh vocals tore against the night's stillness, his hackles bristling and iron fangs on display. "You have no claim to haughtiness, Zane. You have proven nothing of your worth. Run your mouth off again and there's nothing to stop me from ending your existence right now. Then it will be your blood that paints the night sky!"

Regaining his composure somewhat, he ignored the rage burning through his veins like liquid fire. In truth, the Balkar were in need of new members. They would be fools to turn away wolves with potential just to preserve their high standards, though a great deal of the time that is what ended up happening. Despite Zane's knavish attitude, Carnage could see the the affliction burning behind his bright orbs; the calling that each Balkar could be identified by, a certain wickedness that consumed each mind. "What do you know of politics?" He questioned, raising his voice, though he was also curious to hear the male's response. "You might be surprised at the dregs that drift into the Devil's Realm," he corrected, for despite the Balkars' reputation, their prestige had fallen short of its usual standard, causing all sorts of riffraff to stumble through and question the existence of monsters.

"If it is refuge that you seek, then refuge you shall have to earn. If you are indeed as 'humble' as you say, then there may be a place for you here. If instead you wish to contest with the members of this pack, then you'd do best to leave before you are rendered unable." There were already enough egos circling around the polluted terra, a new recruit exhibiting the same conceit would not be tolerated.

[Zane]

So intent on on watching the behemoth's face, Zane didn't see the crushing blow until it was too late to avoid. Crashing into his face with a force unknown to the younger male, Carnage's orange paw made contact with the unstoppable energy of a steam engine running full throttle. Zane's finely boned skull snapped back in response, cracking against his pointed shoulder blades and then flopping forward to bump into his chest and remain there, limp, hanging from his thin neck. Moments passed while the wolf stood there, all but motionless. It seemed that for all intensive purposes that he'd been knocked lifeless, with his bright lantern eyes shut behind the dark shades of his lids the wolf disappeared in the shadows. He neither stirred or spoke, yet his mind was alive with activity. Zane had never felt pain before, not in this manner, not with this intensity. This new development was certainly a vibrant one, he though, filing his entire body with the tingling sensation of bruised flesh. Now it seemed he had a taste of his own actions, how they felt to others, how they were perceived by others...and it set his heart on fire. What excitement there seemed to be in pain, what frantic feelings it unlocked. With the simple swipe of the beast's paw, he had opened Zane's gift to a whole new level of possibilities. Now knowing how it felt to be on the receiving end of such punishment, the poisoned wolf could better refine his talents, teasing them into perfection, until this raw feeling was part of his practice. His techniques before had always been so precises, focusing on specific spots, slow and smooth...but now, now he knew the power of blunt trauma. Of the glorious things it too could bring about.

Raising at last to the plane of reality, Zane lifted his head to the Balkan male. His eyelids split to reveal blazing orbs of light, ignited by passion and excitement. They bore into his attacker as blood ran down his face, pooling around the bottom lid and spilling over to meet the corner of his mouth. His lips, at first motionless, now began to twitch up in their customary grin, perhaps passing for hesitation by someone who didn't know better. "My my...", he hissed, a sentiment to both the bear's sudden temper and the new feeling burring white hot in his head. "It seems I was horribly misinformed...who was I to even suggest such things to one as strong as yourself? After all...I'm the one now spilling lifeblood. Laughing softly, the male's tongue flicked out to wipe some of the warm blood from his face, grin ticking up another notch higher in incomprehensible delight. "Do consider me...enlightened.", he breathed.

Carnage's next words had been those that Zane was counting on. The trial, a test of his skill and dedication. Perhaps out of his own lusting heart, or in a desire to truly prove himself...the slim male was all too eager to display his competence in whatever the Night Hunters could offer. "I'd gladly do any task you ask.", he slurred. "Whatever shows to you that I am indeed dedicated enough for your ranks. As for my in-pack behavior, I assure you...my dealings with other members will be business at best. I can't help myself you see...can't hold it all in and I'd hate to cause an uproar here. It is such a pretty land, I'd hate to...ruin that. I will keep to myself." Unfolding his limps, Zane stood up next to the towering Carnage, holding normal posture for the second time that night. "So what is it you want?", he hisses, eyes sparking at the thought. "How can I prove myself? What do you want?"

[Carnage]

Fiery optics blazed in the darkness as he watched the ego of the smaller male deflate with the force of his blow. Carnage's bright eyes were the only lanterns still aglow, the other guiding lights had abandoned their posts, casting their minion in complete darkness. The behemoth's features lit up in a grin, his fangs peeking out from behind his dark lips. His toothy smile was invisible to the sulking male, whose closed eyes were turned down towards the ground, his whole frame sagging in defeat. Carnage wondered if he wasn't rethinking his decision to venture to the end of the world, reconsidering his potential as a member of the elite Balkan force.

For an eternity the Varg sat, the still air around them void of any word or action until the lithe male finally lifted his head, reclaiming his proud posture. Appearing in the night once more were those two, gleaming beacons, burning with desire and a madness that Carnage could not quite place. What had sparked such a reaction? Perhaps the blow to the head had knocked some sense into the misguided brute, opening his eyes to the violent world that awaited him should he pass admission. Slowly Zane's lips twitched up into a smile, his fangs stained red with his own blood, much to Carnage's satisfaction. His words hinted at sarcasm, forcing a growl from the brute's throat, though he was successful in suppressing the urge to once more send his paw flying through the air to make contact with the male's already bruised face. For every inch Zane's smile grew, Carnage found himself growing more agitated. He found it impossible to tell whether or not this clown, this fool was putting on a show of defiance for the sake of his own enjoyment, or whether his mind really was so warped that he could no longer help himself. "Consider yourself lucky," he sneered.

As the male offered up his eagerness to be put to the test, Carnage merely smirked, though outwardly it appeared more as a grimace. "What is it I want?" His voice was cool, much calmer than the roar he had exerted only moments before, and though his words formed a question, they were spoken more like a statement, drawn out, as though he had turned the question around and was now throwing the inquiry back to Zane's attentive ears. "Loyalty. Humility. Promise. These are not mere wants, but expectations. Should you fail to meet them, you have only failed yourself. What is the concern, do you think, for one more festering carcass to these lands?" His smile was gone, the scowl dissipated as his face took on a very grave and dangerous expression. Let this fool smile if he wished it, things would be different for him when he met the others. When he realized he was cased in with the true monsters. "Don't think that the end of this discussion marks the end of your trials. The test is on-going. Each day you make it through these lands alive, you may count as a personal victory alone." Part of Carnage wanted to see him struggle to survive, he wanted to see the hardships wipe the idiotic grin from his molded face. But he also wanted to see him succeed, to see him flourish in the forsaken lands and find his place amongst the gnarled territory.

[Zane]

The smaller wolf's had begun a steady throb, blood pounding just below the skin. With each new second, as the male's grin crept up as high as it could go, the throb deepened. It hammered in his flesh until Zane was sure his cheek may crack open of it's own accord, exposing the raw, bruised flesh beneath. Yet it was a delicious feeling. One he could not help but reveal in, soak up for all it had to offer. The brute before him was definitely strong, that much was clear. With one swipe he had bestowed this mark, this pulsing sensation upon the wolf's previously untainted form, sending shock waves right to the bone. It was this, more then anything that really brought the slithering varg out of his crazed delirium, this...display of power. For a moment, Zane's eyes focused sharply in on Carnage's face. And for that moment, the cunning beneath his swift tongue was revealed. For there was a streak of smarts in the male, sharp as a knife and just as deadly. In his lucid moments, the workings of Zane's mind could be put to great use, great employ, by anyone with a tendency toward the corrupt and evil.

It was perhaps for this reason that the off-centered male was able to save himself from further ravaging. In those few seconds of close scrutiny he was able to reign in his otherwise out of control desires, to see the bigger opportunity in making well with the lumbering beast. In the end, he would make a better ali then enemy and furthermore Zane needed his favor to enter the pack's lands. He would have to control himself in order to gain such things, for a least the short periods of time that would be spent in Carnage's company. It was a daunting though, one Zane was not quite sure he could pull off. It was hard for him, hard to keep those desires locked away and hard to resist the urge to push his opponent just a bit further. To see what more could be drawn for them with one more comment, one more flick of his tongue. As the light began to fade in him, bringing the wolf pack to his half crazy state of mind, Zane wondered how long he would truly last in the dark confines of Balkar land. How long before the thrill and excitement coursing through his body pushed him full over to the side of uncontrolled.

"Of course.", he finally hissed, acknowledging the brute's words. "I am most lucky indeed. What a chance I've been given....an opportunity to prove my worth." It seemed that was all that he could muster, all that he could offered without once again stepping toward the line that could not be crossed. His orange eyes shone brightly in the darkness, alive with their hidden fire. Bending slightly upon his forelegs, Zane found himself bowing in the shadow of his aggressor. It was not a gesture often preformed by the lithe wolf, and yet seemed appropriate for the time. The larger wolf was a being of pride, demanding respect from those around him. If Zane could appease that sense of self, then perhaps he would look at the better when looked upon by the wolf's equally blazing eyes. "Allow me to pay you your respects.", he whispered quietly before rising once more and slipping up alongside the great male. Zane paused only for a moment before continuing on into the shadowy brush. "You have given me great allowances on this day.", he said. '"I assure you that you will not regret it." He then stepped past the towering male, his tail flicking slightly behind him. Within moments the shadows had eaten Zane alive, devouring him and his slurring voice until at last he too was little more then another nightmare hidden within the murky forest depths.

[Ok, I hope this is works. I tried to make it seem like Zane was genuinely trying to get on Carnage's good side - and he is! - without totally being out of character. I'm grossly out of practice though, so let me know if something needs changing and I shall do it.]

[Carnage]

Awesome post, Zane. The genuine respect came through perfectly, as I know it was a difficult feat to have your character accomplish. You did a great job though, and are now officially admitted

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