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We are a feral dog game set in Japan, based off the Ginga Nagareboshi Gin and Ginga Densetsu Weed manga/animes (though you do not need to be familiar with either in order to play here!). You can read more about the game here. If you already have an account, login - otherwise feel free to create an account and join us!
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Black Sun


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#1
Nosferatu

Nosferatu
  • South Alps
  • 49 posts

Du erscheinst in meinem Traum
Du liebkost mein schwarzes Herz

[OCC: [p] Djavol]

Spendest Licht dem Lebensbaum
Du befreist mich von dem Schmerz


The darkness of the Forest of Despair was very well suited to the old man's tastes; the protection from the sun's harsh rays made him capable of functioning in the same, flawless way as he did in the cool nights. Of course, it was not as much the heat of the sun that disturbed him, despite his fur being long and thick, but rather their way of making him more or less blind. It was not always such a good thing to have so many characteristics similar to that of a vampire, but even though Nosferatu became slightly handicapped in the light of day, he would have never admitted himself being an invalid or anything close to such a disgraceful title. One would have guessed that a canine of his age would have enough confidence to not get upset or hurt whenever his flaws were exposed, but this seemed to be a very sensitive subject; after all, was he not an awful, deformed monster? The gross-looking claws, the abnormal teeth - they had both been the cause of pain in the past.

However, Nosferatu was not the kind to spend his days dwelling on the past, that was the occupation of wretched, miserable souls, and if anything one could not call him miserable. High above the trees the sun shone, but had in addition to being obscured by the foliage also been covered in a grim looking cloud - alas, only one! There was no hope for a totally hidden sun, nor any rain, or a delightful storm to lighten up the mood. "A terrible thing; both giving and taking life," said Nosferatu as he lumbered through the forest, not caring if any dog or other creature heard him speaking for himself. He was old enough to be permitted to have a few monologues every now and then, and it was not like he was a delirious old fool or an insane mutt spouting out his nonsense, no, simply an elderly gentleman in need of a voice to break the dreary silence. Perhaps he could find a rabbit with a nice throat he could sink his teeth into? It was worth an attempt, as it seemed like the daylight would not disappear any faster if he continued to sit in silent idleness.

Word Count: 453




"I shall rise from my own death, to avenge hers with all the powers of darkness."

#2
Djavol

Djavol
  • South Alps
  • 27 posts

It wasn't often that the smaller dog was without her larger friend.

Akuma provided the smaller dog with protection and what she craved, what she desired. The Rottweiler was as fearsome as they came and with his company she could enjoy the blood lust that welled up in her -- in them both -- with steady regularity. However, that didn't mean she always had to be at his side. Some days he would rather nap than follow her whims, some days she wanted privacy to think and to plan. This pack was a good thing in that it gave more protection. It gave them a purpose, tasks to fill their days with; Akuma did not have to strain himself to keep her safe every waking hour of the day.

At the moment, she was not availing herself of that extra protection or of the watchful eye of her companion. She had decided on a walk. The enforced idleness was nice for weary bones and having a spot that was 'home', even if it were temporary, was a previously undiscovered pleasure. However there weren't many chances to practice their favorite games and hone the skills that they had improved over their time together. They certainly couldn't prey on members of the pack and wanderers were not as common here in claimed lands.

In short, she was bored.

She wasn't quite sure just how taking a walk through the darkened forest -- still dim even with the sun shining brightly in the sky -- would cure that boredom but stranger things had happened in her life. That was when she saw the other that had chosen to walk this same path. She might have seen him once or twice; a large, black dog. An older dog. Djavol wasn't stupid enough to assume age meant weakness though. The leaders of this pack weren't stupid enough to accept someone that couldn't benefit the whole. He had to have something that they kept him around for.

She just caught the faint muttered words. She could ignore it, and him, but she was bored. Why not engage him? Who knew what could come of it. "Perhaps not so terrible at times," she commented in response to his statement.



#3
Nosferatu

Nosferatu
  • South Alps
  • 49 posts

Du erscheinst in meinem Traum
Du liebkost mein schwarzes Herz

[OCC: [p] Djavol]

Spendest Licht dem Lebensbaum
Du befreist mich von dem Schmerz


Nosferatu had recently found himself in the company of another dog, vastly different when compared to himself; the cunning Frenchman Dupin, whose presence could make anyone feel like a fool. However, the vampiric old man seemed to be more or less immune to such feelings, perhaps even immune towards all kinds of provocation - it surely seemed like it when all he would do when confronted with an array of harsh words meant to upset him were to answer calmly, or simply show his sharp fangs in a grotesque grin which would either end all discussions or at least make the other partner noticeably on edge. He was not dependent upon the Plotthound's presence although it was nice to have such a sly comrade at your side, and he did in fact enjoy the occasional moment of solitary silence.

"Perhaps not so terrible at times,"

The voice came as a surprise for Nosferatu, but he was hardly shocked by it; he stopped in his tracks and looked over towards the direction from where the sound had come. He beheld the smaller dog, scanning her body as if he was trying to figure out if he had seen her before, dwelling just a little bit too long when his gaze fell upon Djavol's neck. It seemed almost voluptuous in nature, not because he was attracted to the Nordic Spitz but because he fancied the thought of penetrating that beautiful throat and drinking the blood that would surely flow; and this desire in itself could surely be seen as something concupiscent. However, Nosferatu was old and very much capable of restraining himself, and so he brushed any such thoughts aside. For now. "Perhaps," he began slowly, sounding like he had just awoken from a deep sleep. "Without it we would all be dead, but its foul rays have the nasty habit of hurting my eyes and setting my body on fire." Of course, he did not mean literally on fire, but it sure felt like the flames of hell reigned beneath his fur whenever he dared to stand in broad daylight.

Just as Djavol didn't think of Nosferatu as a weak old dog he didn't think less of her because of her diminutive size, although his old habit of regarding anyone younger than himself had yet to die out. He rarely, if ever, let anyone know about this but it could sometimes be assumed judging from the grim expression that would appear whenever he was in the same vicinity as some "young cur". Seeing as he had a few years behind him, Nosferatu had met many different dogs and, indeed, there were some respectable youths out there, but none of them would ever be able to compare to the debonair qualities of a mature gentleman or gentlewoman. "May I inquire about your name? It is troublesome to have a conversation without knowing one another's names." There was no doubt that the young female was a member of the Southern Alps, no one else would be allowed to tread these lands for too long, and he could smell the familiar, not too nice smell on her. However, he was unable to recall her face - not even her throat seemed to jog his memory. "I am Nosferatu, hailing from Hungary." Nosferatu's hearing was still in good condition, so he had been able to catch the accent in the other dog's speech.

Word Count: 644




"I shall rise from my own death, to avenge hers with all the powers of darkness."

#4
Djavol

Djavol
  • South Alps
  • 27 posts

The brown eyes watched with a cool indifference as the larger dog stopped and then turned towards her. His own brown eyes -- brown eyes with a strange tint to them -- observer her with an expression that she could not immediately name. It was not hatred nor pleasure. No, it bordered more on a greed that, if she thought about it, was faintly familiar; a greed for something other than possession or for lust. Then it flickered out of existence in the blink of an eye. She might have thought she imagined it if it weren't for the pack that they now resided in. It was very likely that he did have a desire for blood, for flesh, or for the simple act of rending flesh and draining blood to watch it pool against the floor of the forest. Regardless of if he did or did not, she felt no fear. The time with her companion had given her a feeling of safety that was sometimes imagined more than reality -- it was hard for him to protect her, after all, if he was not here. But also, there had been one rule that had come amongst the members of the pack. Wanderers, enemies, prey, they were all fair game... but leave any dog that was joined with the Southern Alps alone.

The small female continued to watch and listen as he spoke. The prick ears shifted forward a tiny bit in as she focused more upon his words. She was not young enough, nor stupid enough, to take them seriously but they were interesting nonetheless. "I see," she demurred at first, head tilting just slightly to the left as she took in the larger dog. "That does represent a quandary." The words were mild; not much feeling nor interest in such a so-called quandary. she did not know this dog very well, after all, and he certainly had not provided her with what her own Akuma did. She might feel more concern or wonder for his plight if he did so one day.

That line of thought and pondering was derailed when Nosferatu spoke again, questioning her in a formal manner that the Nordic Spitz was, in all honesty, not very used to. The time spent with Akuma had been her talking and him attacking. They spoke to one another in the language of blood and with orders; they rarely held long and meaningful conversations. It was almost odd to hear such cultured words coming from another canine. Djavol remained where she stood, giving the older dog her attention but not drawing nearer to him yet. For all her confidence in the orders of the leaders of this pack and her surety in her own safety, she still wasn't tempting fate by getting too near to him just yet. For after all, you catch more flies with honey than with vinegar, she reminded herself. Cultured, polite words could be just as deadly.

"Well, I will admit you're quite right," she conceded to the black dog, although she had gone quite some time without knowing Akuma's name. Then again, they were a wholly different pair. It was best to not judge normal interactions based off their own. "My name is Djavol. I was born and raised in Finland, before I was brought here. My companion and I have recently joined." Already the pack life was boring her. However, they had a greater freedom in a way now that they could remain on this land. No one would question their taking care of trespassers or spies in a violent manner here.



#5
Nosferatu

Nosferatu
  • South Alps
  • 49 posts

Du erscheinst in meinem Traum
Du liebkost mein schwarzes Herz

[OCC: ]

Spendest Licht dem Lebensbaum
Du befreist mich von dem Schmerz


The female's lack of fear or anxiety when she watched him didn't bother Nosferatu in the least. He was not the kind who savoured such feelings in others, it was simply not something he took pleasure in. Sure, sometimes it could be amusing, but most of all he just found it annoying. Looking like he did, a frightened yelp, a quivering voice and a tail between a pair of legs were the standard reaction he received; it became predictable very quickly. A lot of thing became predictable and dull as one grew older but this, too, Nosferatu had accepted in his usual indifferent way. "Ah, I have grown used to it. Age brings all kinds of pains to your poor body, but you will get used to it." This statement made the vampire seem even more of a supernatural being than before - indeed, the sun was one of his worst enemies, but with so many other things he had come to accept the pain that it brought him. He didn't spend time in the sun unless he had to, and unlike real vampires he did not burst into flame as soon as its rays locked onto him. The way he spoke was not arrogantly, but with a kind of gruffness that suggested that if he somehow lost a limb, he would shrug it off just as easily as he did everything else.

"Well, I will admit you're quite right, My name is Djavol. I was born and raised in Finland, before I was brought here. My companion and I have recently joined."

It was not like Nosferatu was the brightest of canines, but he was far from stupid. Sporting his own kind of intelligence and wits it had been quite easy for him to make it to where he was now. Life had smiled at him most of the time ever since he finally got away from those godforsaken scientists, the few obstacles that had followed had rarely proved to be of any greater trouble. It was hard to see the foreign mutt being perturbed by anything, but he too had his weaknesses - his hate towards sunlight was one. "Nice to meet you, Djavol," he said, quite oblivious to how polite he might seem to the Nordic Spitz. To Nosferatu this was simply what was natural, while to others his somewhat old-fashioned way of speaking and the odd little quirk of never using contractions while he spoke must have seemed quite weird. "Ah, another European." For a moment it seemed like he was about to drift into thought, but his gaze that had yet to linger away from the female remained steady. "Did you use to be a working dog of some sort? I hope you do not mind me asking." Maybe the reason to his inquisitive nature was innocent, or maybe he wished to know because such dogs had a special flavour to them. It could as well be both reasons, for why should one of them eliminate the other? Besides, it was simply polite to small talk a bit, and getting to know one's "comrades" was always a good idea.

Despite this he would not ramble off about his own past unless Djavol expressed a desire to know, for putting all the focus on oneself was quite the rude thing to do, and if there was something that the large dog had it was manners. Manners that partly concealed his blood-thirsty nature, but manners nonetheless. "Then that explains why I did not recognise you," said Nosferatu with a nod. The truth was that he was somewhat behind when it came to the new members. Of course he heard of it whenever someone new appeared, but he could not take the time to memorise, even less meet all of the new faces that appeared in their territory from time to time, asking for admittance into the pack. As much as he wished to, he was no leader and so this wasn't something that was expected from him. One could be sure that he did know the number of dogs in the pack, and if anyone noteworthy came into this wonderful, deranged family then Nosferatu was sure that he would hear about if from Dupin.


Word Count: 785




"I shall rise from my own death, to avenge hers with all the powers of darkness."

#6
Djavol

Djavol
  • South Alps
  • 27 posts

Djavol's eyes rose up towards the canopy of the trees, flickering towards the sky where the sun hovered high in the sky before going back to the black dog that was before her. She had never before heard of any canine that was bothered by the sun in such ways but then she would be an idiot to assume that she had heard of everything. As much as she was confident -- over confident in many ways -- she at least knew that much. A non-committal sound issued forth from her throat, almost a hum of sorts; not quite agreeing with his words but not dismissing them either. She had never been injured so badly or suffered the loss of anything so important to her. In a younger mind, even a cunning one that had seen plenty of death (and reveled in it), it was hard to attribute these sorts of situations to herself.

"And you as well," she dipped her head just slightly. She didn't think she would ever care much for any of the dogs in this pack, not really; not in the same way that she cared for herself. It never hurt to be polite though. And Djavol had learned how to be polite many times, for some dogs were easily swayed by kindness and politeness while others it was easier to enrage into action. So it had behooved her to learn different manners of luring dogs to their doom. That wasn't the case here, of course, since this dog was older (and potentially wiser) but also was a member of the pack but it still didn't hurt to return politeness in kind.

The much smaller dog shook her head at the older male's question. "No. At least, not for long." She had not stayed with the humans much of her short life. Long enough to learn some things but she had been one of the dogs to dart from any opening available to her and never look back. Why stay with the demanding, infuriating humans? They certainly would never approve of her tastes if even many of her own brethren often found it to be distasteful to lure a dog into the waiting jaws of her comrade so that she could watch their demise. "I was brought here after I turned a year but I did not stay with the humans for very long afterwards." She had journeyed on her own and then she had met Akuma. Things had been just wonderful since then.

She nodded in agreement with his words. That was why she, too, had not known him. "And yourself?" It was only polite to ask, after all. And it would tell her more things about the dogs in this new pack. So far, none of the ones that she had met had been anything other than pretenders -- dogs with a thin veneer of some kind of mask over the real monster beneath. There might be more normal ones for all she knew but, so far, that was the impression that she had. It delighted her, in a way, for Djavol was very familiar with pretending to be something you were not in order to deceive others. She only hoped that the promise of enemies to lull and then draw their fangs upon would be more than just a promise.



#7
Nosferatu

Nosferatu
  • South Alps
  • 49 posts

Du erscheinst in meinem Traum
Du liebkost mein schwarzes Herz

[OCC: ]

Spendest Licht dem Lebensbaum
Du befreist mich von dem Schmerz


It might have sounded silly for someone to have the sun as one's weak point. Indeed, that awful ball of gas was Nosferatu's true enemy, while the occasional dog, or even human that came in his way were just silly hooligans that would never be able to achieve the same kind of status as he. To him the giant star was male; the moon, female, his constant companion and lover. No canine bitch could ever hold the same kind of gentle beauty as she did, no one shone as brightly, yet softly, nor had they the same air of mystery about them. It was a pity that the jealous sun always had to chase his beloved away with a broad grin, and then proceed to blind the vampire with its ungodly rays!

"And you as well,"

If Nosferatu had, or had ever used to have someone who stood him close, he certainly didn't seem to act like it. There had been many different dogs in his old life, right now he had a companion in Dupin, but the death of the other dog wouldn't have hurt him too deeply. One could assume that the St. Bernard mix would have felt some kind of sorrow over such a death, but whether it was because he grieved the loss of a valuable companion that had been able to help him gain what he wanted, or if he grieved because he actually missed the mere presence was up for debate. Death was a depressing thing, but Nosferatu had been forced to accept the truth that all living things ceased to breathe at one point or another early in life, and it did not bother him; still, losing a comrade that had served him well was still worthy of a moment of silence. He wouldn't cry - it was probably physically impossible for him to shed even a single tear - but despite his brutish appearance and behaviour, there was still an ounce of romance, perhaps, in the old man, something that gave him a kind of respect for the living things around him. This was something that was well hidden from most, and it seemed absurd to think that a dog such as Nosferatu who could rip the throat open of a defenceless puppy if he had to, was also able to "grieve" his victim shortly after the deed had been done. He always turned his back on the scene, looking seemingly unperturbed while licking some blood off of his dark lips.

"No. At least, not for long. I was brought here after I turned a year but I did not stay with the humans for very long afterwards."

Nosferatu nodded slowly. Like so many elders most of his movements seemed to be just that; slow. "I see," he said and sounded only slightly absent-minded. There was no reason for him to drift off into his own thoughts, and though it happened that he did sometimes he was not so dumb as to stray too far while being in the presence of someone he didn't know well. The reason for his contemplating demeanour was the humans. Nosferatu himself had never lived together with humans, at least he had not had an owner, so he could not call his stay in the laboratory for living "together" with them. "I cannot blame you. One should rather stay away from those creatures, than become their allies." It did not interest him to gain the love of humans - they could not love something as hideous as him, neither were they capable of giving him what he wanted. It was not acceptable for a dog to attack other animals or humans in order to drink their blood and devour their flesh, and even if he found a disturbed human like that, what use would it be? He was perfectly fine on his own.

"And yourself?"

He had not dreaded this question, but neither had he anticipated its coming. Nosferatu had known that it would come, though, and he fixed his gaze more steadily upon the female. "I used to be a wild dog for a short while, but I was only a puppy and that life ended quickly," he began to explain as the images of the immemorial past appeared before him. "A human found me and my family, and the humans, being stupid as they usually are, began to refer to us as wolves." Nosferatu could not help but smile wryly at this. It was typical, and even more laughable seeing as neither his mother nor his siblings had looked anything like wolves except perhaps for their fur colours - one could blame this inaccuracy on the fact that the person in question had been too far away, and surely too scared or ignorant to figure out exactly what they were, but this mattered little to the "wolf". "They killed everyone but me and I was brought to a facility where they tortured - or experimented, as they called it - dogs and other animals. After a few years they moved me to Japan, but I escaped, and now I am here." Nosferatu told his story rather matter-of-factly, though not devoid of emotion as it was evident that he bore a hatred for mankind, but he did not expect to receive any pity from Djavol. He was not so proud that he would show offence upon hearing her apologise for his rough past, he would still behave politely, but one could be sure that he'd feel a bit irritated. After all, it was gone, the past, there was no need to shower him with apologies or to dwell eternally on something that would never return.


Word Count: 1,000




"I shall rise from my own death, to avenge hers with all the powers of darkness."

#8
Djavol

Djavol
  • South Alps
  • 27 posts

For his part, Nosferatu did not attempt to convince her of his predicament. That earned him quite a lot of esteem in her eyes. Perhaps not much when really looked at, but higher than many dogs. She couldn't even begin to count the amount of canines that had wasted countless amounts of time in their attempt to convince her of something -- that what she did was wrong, that humans weren't all that bad, that hunting rabbits was more of a challenge than hunting deer, that a dog of ill health should be succored and healed rather than ignored or disposed of. On and on it went and always she had just tuned them out. She had little time to waste on the opinion of others and she certainly wasn't going to waste her time arguing. So Nosferatu's lack of argument or defensive attempts to assure her that it was true definitely stood out. Perhaps it was true. It meant little to her, though, seeing as she felt very little connection to her current companions.

Djavol gave a slight tilt of her head at the response to her leaving the humans. It was not odd that he shouldn't like humans; not really. She had met plenty of dogs that disliked them. For every pampered and loving family pooch she met a disgruntled and jaded dog that had ran off. It was not very strange. Yet there was something in the older dog's demeanor. Not just because he agreed with her decision to take her leave of them. It was the fact that he spoke of them as creatures, not as humans; something to coolly size up and align oneself with or go against, yet still below himself. It was not a way that she had ever heard the humans referred to as before and it intrigued her. Certainly there was no love lost between her and humans, although she really had no personal qualms with them; she had just found them to be insufferable and boring. Far better to live her life on her own than under their rule.

Djavol curled her haunches beneath her, training her brown eyes directly on the black dog. She was prepared for just about anything that she could be told -- after all, she had heard of many depravities that had been visited upon dogs by humans or by other dog. She was not immune in the least to the cruelties of the world though there were still many more that she had not even dreamed of. She did not bother to interrupt the male's story, no matter how incredulous it might sound or how unsettling it might be. After all, she had already decided to be polite... and the way that he told it spoke of neither dramatics or master storytelling. Instead he just spoke as if he had explained this before many times and while he hadn't grown weary of it, it was just simple facts, although there was a hint to the tone of controlled emotion; anger, possibly, or a deep and burning type of rage that had grown cold and festering. That meant it was either true or it was true to him. It would do no good to sit and question and though she would not admit it, she did find it a bit fascinating in the same way that watching blood slowly but steadily flow from a wound was fascinating; a morbid fascination.

As he finished his story, Djavol did not rush to give consolation or to apologize for things that had happened. Why should she? It hadn't been her that had taken the older dog and done these things. She hadn't even been born when those atrocities had been committed, most likely. "That is quite unsettling," she finally settled on for the moment. And it was. She had not liked the humans but she had never known that they could and would stoop to that level. "A terrible thing indeed. Yet you survived and you escaped; that makes you strong and cunning." And that certainly required praise and admiration. Perhaps it was odd that she should feel admiration simply because he was standing here now, yet in her world the strong lived and the weak died. That he had lived through these experiments, whatever they might be, and then escaped and now lived in the wild meant that he was a strong animal; a fighter and a survivor. Age clearly did hold wisdom and cunning of its own.




#9
Nosferatu

Nosferatu
  • South Alps
  • 49 posts

Du erscheinst in meinem Traum
Du liebkost mein schwarzes Herz

[OCC: ]

Spendest Licht dem Lebensbaum
Du befreist mich von dem Schmerz


There was rarely any advantage to be had by fervently trying to convince someone else that one's own opinion, beliefs, etc were true or the right ones. Sometimes, trying to use the soft side of others for one's own benefit could prove to be fruitful as there were those who were much more prone to being sympathetic than most of the members of the Southern Alps - Nosferatu knew this very well, and one could only guess how many times he had tricked fellow canines to listen to his sad stories about the cruelty of the world, only to get a hold of the red juices flowing in their veins.

While Nosferatu bore a considerable amount of animosity towards the humans, there was still some kind of respect to be seen in him from time to time. It was a foolish thing to underestimate any enemy after all, and he respected the ability of his foes, no matter how terrible, imbecilic, or unnatural he thought them to be - for there was much to respect, even fear, in the apes who held their stick-like machines in their paws, pressing only a single claw at the trigger to unleash a discharge of lead. Many times had the small turned out to have the ferocious fighting spirit of a bull, the idiot to have intelligence far surpassing his superiors, or the old cripple to have teeth as sharp as a vigorous youngster. He never feared his foes, for he expected every possibility, and he could only feel fear while in a state of uncertainty.

A while after Djavol settled down, so did Nosferatu. His story had been told countless of times before to those who were willing to listen, but never had he forced his past upon someone else. Such an action oftentimes had the possibility of rending his story incredulous, and as such he would gain absolutely nothing from re-telling it. When they came to him with curious questions about his appearance or his odd accent, he would satisfy their hunger with the simple facts and sometimes, in the case of especially gluttonous canines, he would give them minute details of his staying in the laboratory which they would have never been able to dream up themselves. Perchance there was a bit of untruth in some parts of Nosferatu's stories, for the passage of time has the nasty habit of distorting memories slowly without letting the owner know, but if so the old vampire was wholly unaware. Some things he had forgotten altogether. There were a couple of years that appeared almost like blank slates, with only a handful of disorganized events scattered about - the faces of dogs or other animals, the sound of the scientist's soothing yet so menacing voice, a yelp from one of the females being held close to his cage, the distant sound of birds singing outside, rain pattering against the windowpanes - while others were a lot more detailed. Whether he thought back on the former or the latter, he was able to reconstruct each memory vividly in his mind. It was the paintings made by the most exquisite and expensive of materials; his own blood.

"That is quite unsettling, A terrible thing indeed. Yet you survived and you escaped; that makes you strong and cunning."

His eyes had been focused on the other dog all this time nearly without blinking, but now the eyelids moved slowly, as if they, too, had no need for hurry. "It is," Nosferatu said quietly, the deepness of his voice rendering his reply to something sounding more like a humming than actual words. He did not speak nor stir in his spot, and for a moment there seemed to be no sound whatsoever to be heard in the dead forest. The older dog watched Djavol with something that could be described as contemplation, though exactly what thoughts stirred inside the head of Nosferatu no one could, or should, know, and when he came out of his slumber he appeared exactly the same as before with the same unintelligible expression on his face. "Yes, the ordeals I have survived and the things I have seen have shaped me as a person, and I cannot say that I am unhappy to have experienced them. Perhaps I would have tread a lighter path had the beginning of my life been filled with less misery, but who is to say that it would not have turned out for the worse in the end?" Nosferatu tilted his head slightly and softened his unrelenting gaze. "Many times the good of this world are ignorant of the horrors around them, and thus ignorant of many other things that are connected to those horrors - perhaps it is not always so, but more often than not the ones in the shadows can view both the darkness they are in and the light beyond without staggering, while the others stand in the light looking into the darkness without being able to see the contours of our world. They only see a black void."

Nosferatu did not mean to say that every creature dedicated to the evil "path" had to be intelligent. There were many, many cases where it was exactly the opposite - yet he, and probably Djavol herself, had the knowledge of both the dark and the light sides of life while the dogs who had been brought up in safety, with love surrounding them and terror being completely absent, had only experienced such a small part. It was hardly enough to warrant them a long or successful life in the wild, so instead they remained shut inside a house or apartment, unaware of the reality they would never see. And the dogs of Ohu, though some of them had experienced tragedy, could never quite understand the minds of their enemies. Nosferatu was quite firm in this belief. "You yourself seem to be rather strong and cunning, Miss. The wilderness is harsh enough normally, and in this part of Japan it is even more so - being able to survive here and join the Southern Alps as well, shows that you are a valuable ally." Nosferatu doubted that the leaders of the pack would accept her if they didn't see something in her or thought her to be useless. Even though he thought she looked small (then again, almost anyone did to him, and he had to remind himself of his own size and that he was the exception rather than the norm), he knew that, as mentioned before, that looks could be deceiving. He could already tell that she had a fair share of intelligence, if only by analysing her behaviour. Perhaps he should have asked her the reason as to why she had joined, but did not want to appear pushy or take over the conversation completely.


Word Count: 1,192




"I shall rise from my own death, to avenge hers with all the powers of darkness."

#10
Djavol

Djavol
  • South Alps
  • 27 posts

Djavol listened with most of her attention, though some was for their surroundings. Though she had lived most of her life by leeching, in a way -- depending on the protection of another, mostly -- that didn't mean that she ignored general safety when she was alone. She doubted any dog would sneak up on them unnoticed but it was always good to be aware of your surroundings. It was a testament to how intriguing Nosferatu and his story was that she gave him almost all of her attention in the first place. If he had droned or been dull she probably would have dismissed his words to a buzz in the back of her head while she thought on other things. It was also a sign of how intriguing he was that she listened to his words as well. Djavol rarely had time for things such as philosophizing or contemplating what ifs. She preferred the temptation of luring another dog, lulling another dog, and then seeing the red splash of blood against the ground to spending her time hashing out deep statements. For once, though, she was willing to listen and to contemplate on the words being spoken.

"I don't believe I ever thought of it that way before," Djavol finally spoke, her tone musing. "Yet it does make sense if you do pause to think about it." Certainly she had viewed some dogs as inferior simply because they couldn't see things the same way that she had. Perhaps it was those pivotal moments in life that prepared you for that. Certainly she had not experienced anything close to what Nosferatu had but she had never been an idealistic dog focused on doling out good services and living for honor. Maybe it was simply because she had been raised from the start to hunt and so had an early exposure to blood and death; who knew, really.

A slow smile curled up the edges of her muzzle; it wasn't exactly a friendly smile, though it did hold mirth within it. She was strong and cunning, in her own ways. Her diminutive statute, however, meant that she was at a clear disadvantage in many cases -- namely in hunting larger game and in fighting. The problem of hunting game was not such an issue, at least for the most part; she could feed herself on smaller mammals and birds and once Akuma had joined up with her she could catch enough to sate his hunger as well. The fighting had been the problem. The blood lust that she felt meant that she could never fully ignore the desire to see the blood spilled; she had to come up with a solution and it had been a lovely one indeed. "Perhaps not quite so strong physically," she finally responded. "Not in comparison to one such as yourself, certainly." Nosferatu towered over her, after all. Many of the Southern Alps dogs did. "My companion and I presented a nice combination that was not something a wise leader would ignore." And no one called the leaders of the Southern Alps foolish, that was for certain.

"As I suspect you presented something to them that they could not ignore as well," the smaller dog nodded a head at him. With the things done to him and with his great size, surely they had jumped at the chance to have him join and help them towards their goals. Djavol's appeal was that she was cunning, that she didn't mind bloodshed and that she held the metaphorical leash of Akuma. All it took was her leading the Rottweiler towards the slaughter and the rest was done. It was hard to resist the addition of fighting dog with such skill and dedication and Akuma wouldn't join without her. A perfect pair for such a pack. Add in the fact that Djavol was good at hunting and their fate was sealed.


#11
Nosferatu

Nosferatu
  • South Alps
  • 49 posts

Du erscheinst in meinem Traum
Du liebkost mein schwarzes Herz

[OCC: ]

Spendest Licht dem Lebensbaum
Du befreist mich von dem Schmerz


"I don't believe I ever thought of it that way before, Yet it does make sense if you do pause to think about it."

Perhaps a dog from the opposing "team" would have come up with some sort of argument to counter Nosferatu's own, and he would have listened to it. Yet he would not really take the opinion of the other into account, for he was so resolute in the beliefs he had. Likewise he had a belief that it was important to listen to others; again and again he would listen, and most of those time he would maim and continue downward his own path instead of diverting onto another. There were not always a fork in the road allowing you to steer onto another path, sometimes there were obstacles hindering you, and Nosferatu did not feel like going through a forest just so he could get to the brighter side; he had no reason to. Most likely it was impossible for him as well, since as soon as he had tasted the blood of another dog he had been deemed a lost cause. If someone tried to come and convert him with silver crosses and bowls of holy water, he'd bite the crucifix in two and let the water flow together with the blood.

"Perhaps not quite so strong physically, Not in comparison to one such as yourself, certainly. My companion and I presented a nice combination that was not something a wise leader would ignore."

Nosferatu nodded while another smile crept across his mouth in response to Djavol's. "To be mentally strong can be just as desirable as physical strength, if not more at times," he said and his smile lingered while the female gave him a compliment. "I see." It was a good idea for a smaller dog to pair up with a larger one, which Nosferatu guessed was the case here, or a dog who in some way complemented or otherwise aided oneself. In the vampire's own case it was important to make contacts with different individuals for future purposes. "You must be quite the duo then," he added, though he didn't know what standards the Southern Alps had. The few members that he knew of or had met seemed to be of some value, yet there were many more he did not know existed. However if the leaders had chosen him, then they obviously had a good eye.

"As I suspect you presented something to them that they could not ignore as well,"

"As for me, I have had experience with leading minor packs in the past, and I know a thing or two," he said while he listened to the rustling of the leaves as a wind blew through the forest, a sound that seemed to resemble the rattling of bones. "My big stature must have won them over as well, and my claws are longer and harder than that of a wolverine's. Besides," he opened up his mouth a little wider to reveal the long fangs, almost making it look like he was grinning at Djavol and her words, "you would probably want to have these on your side rather than against you." Nosferatu closed his mouth and gave it a quick lick. Of course, there was another little detail of him being a cannibal, but seeing as he had been told not to spread such around he kept it for himself. There wouldn't have been a reason for him to do such either, rather it was only interesting to have it remain a secret and see if anyone was shrewd enough to guess his true "identity". Maybe Djavol herself would merely be intrigued if she heard about it, yet Nosferatu couldn't ignore the possibility of her spreading the word around and getting some of the less hardened dogs a terrible fright - as amusing as it would be, it would be undesirable.


Word Count: 702




"I shall rise from my own death, to avenge hers with all the powers of darkness."

#12
Djavol

Djavol
  • South Alps
  • 27 posts

OOC: This is way shorter than I would like it to be :( I am sorryyy

Though Djavol was not one to preen underneath praise, though she quite enjoyed it, there was still that prickling of happiness that one got whenever someone gave a compliment. She was mentally strong, or so she believed. At least, better than most of the idiotic canines that she had run into in her life. There had been very few that had not earned her loathing for their idiocy and idealistic thoughts. So far, even a few of the Southern Alps dogs that she had encountered really had rubbed her the wrong way although she would follow the rules and not instigate a fight between any of them. Nosferatu, at least, carried the weight of years and the heavyset dignity of one who had hard-won his wisdom. That earned him more attention than she might normally have given.

Her brown eyes watched the larger canine as he recounted a bit of his own experiences. Certainly if she were forming a pack, which Djavol really had no desire to do for a bit of surprise, she would have selected a dog such as Nosferatu. His stature alone would potentially demoralize enemies and when you added in the... alterations that he had undergone, he presented a pretty package. The edges of her muzzle quirked a tiny bit in response to the revealing of those longer fangs. "Oh, indeed," she offered the words in a falsely honey sweet voice, perhaps betraying a bit of her own little quirks in that. She enjoyed watching the final moments of another dog's life. What would it be like to watch teeth such as those pierce another dog's skin?

Well, maybe that could be arranged one day. For now, Djavol would keep that little thought tucked in firmly in the back of her mind for another time.

One ear twitched a little and she gave her head a slight shake. She focused her attention back on Nosferatu as a whole, not on those fangs that he had covered back up and on possibilities. Earlier words of his teased at her mind and she tilted her head just a tiny bit. "Where did you lead before, if I might be bold enough to ask?" It was not common for many dogs to accept a lower rank after they had led in the past. She wondered what packs he had taken the helm of, how long it had lasted and why he had stepped down - was it death, old age, or just the desire to be in the background rather than the fore? This older dog certainly was proving interesting and enlightening.


#13
Nosferatu

Nosferatu
  • South Alps
  • 49 posts

Du erscheinst in meinem Traum
Du liebkost mein schwarzes Herz

[OCC: ]

Spendest Licht dem Lebensbaum
Du befreist mich von dem Schmerz


"Oh, indeed,"

Nosferatu was not unable to appreciate the occasional sarcastic turn, even though he was hardly of that nature. Neither did he seem to be overly cynical. Of course, some cynicism always resided within dogs such as him, it would be difficult to find a dog within these borders that did not appear the least bit cynical at one time or another in their ways of thinking and acting, but in the vampire it was more hidden, not on purpose but because that was how he was made. His outlook might have been a grim one, but that didn't mean he lived a life of constant displeasure - on the other hand he rather liked life, though a lot of things could be better. Nosferatu had no desire to dwell on the past for any extended amount of time, it was unproductive, and he'd leave the endless sulking to the younger generations. Djavol's words, or rather the way she had uttered them, amused him as well as pleased him. If she'd express the wish for them to go hunting in the future he would have gladly obliged as it had the potential of becoming a great feast; for Nosferatu it would be a literal feast, as he'd drink the blood of their victims, while Djavol would enjoy the slaughter itself.

"Where did you lead before, if I might be bold enough to ask?"

Perhaps it would be safe to tell her about his "secret", but it wasn't something he'd reveal after just meeting her once, and since he did not yet have an idea about the violence delights she indulged herself with, it would remain a secret, for the time being at least. It was not like he was itching to reveal it to the rest of the world, he was not plagued by obsessive compulsive thoughts about making it known, the only thing proving to be a nuisance was the terrible urge of killing. "I am afraid that the packs I have lead before have been of small sizes, and certainly their members were much less... apt to fighting than the Southern Alp's members," he explained as he began to reminisce. "Nor can I say that they possessed any other noteworthy qualities, but for a time they were my families. Eventually I would lose my position when the packs would gradually thin out, because of casualties, diseases or fights, or even because some would leave for Ohu in hope of a better life there." Something Djavol would most likely fail to realise was that this story was false; to an extent it retold the truth in as much that there had been times when lives had been taken because of accidents, illnesses or brawls with other minor packs, but the most important detail of all was withdrawn. The demise of the small packs had not been because of these causes, but had been brought upon its members by their leader's own fangs.

"It might not sound very impressive, I admit, but I lead both of these packs for a long time. Suddenly, bad luck came out of nowhere and would wipe out most of us. In the end there would be only me or a few others left, and they would choose to go a different route than I." For all the lies he had been feeding Djavol, Nosferatu was inching closer to the truth. The awful calamity striking the packs had been himself, and the first time there had been survivors - the second time no one had managed to escape. His heart was not filled with sadness over this, perhaps there was a certain amount of regret, but in general he seemed to be quite indifferent to these two occasions; sometimes he'd think back and miss the good old times and wish he could go back in time. Like a normal dog would regret eating their treat too early instead of saving it for later, he regretted his past decisions. "Have you experienced the pack life before, Miss, or is this your first time?"


Word Count: 728




"I shall rise from my own death, to avenge hers with all the powers of darkness."

#14
Djavol

Djavol
  • South Alps
  • 27 posts

Though Djavol was cunning, perhaps even a bit wise for her age, she had the unfailing belief that most youthful creatures had that she was fairly immortal. Though she was careful and cautious - for she liked the spilling of the blood of others and not her own - she still felt often as if nothing could touch her. One day, a hard-learned lesson would be sure to change that just as she would learn to do a better job of hiding her desires. It was no secret from the leaders of the Southern Alps pack in how she and Akuma operated and so she saw little reason to fully hide it from another who could claim membership in the same pack. In working with other dastardly figures, however, the thought hadn't occurred to her that someone might use that sort of information against her. They might agree with her desires, might hold them as well, but if someone wanted to use information against her it could be easy to do so. The right word in the wrong ear was all it took - not every dog, even in a pack such as this, took kindly to those that enjoyed watching another dog bleed its life out and those that didn't even do the work to see the culmination of their desires. As a younger mind, the thought had not come up to her in the least yet.

But if this great beast of a dog asked, then reservations or lack thereof would disappear as fleetingly as they might have come. She would say yes with very little hesitation.

Again, as before, Djavol listened with her attention focused on the older dog as he spoke and told his story. She had never been someone to disregard those that were older, unless they were completely incapable of taking care of themselves and being a burden. Otherwise, she viewed them simply as what they were - an older dog. In this older dog, she was finding a vast history of experiences. She might not care too much, at least not initially, but Nosferatu had lead a long life so far. Even more, he didn't seem to be in the habit of preaching at someone. Djavol was a temperamental sort and a long-winded story could be bad enough - if it sounded like a lecture she would lose all focus and attempts to pretend as if she were listening. Nosferatu told his stories clearly and concisely; she liked that.

"It is impressive to lead any pack for a long period of time, is it not?" Djavol countered the larger dog's words with a question of her own. She knew very little about actual pack life. She had spent her time with humans before escaping and her only companion was the Rottweiler that she had met up with. Until they had found the Southern Alps pack there had been no need or even desire to join. Curiosity had been the main reason they had even looked into this one - curiosity and the thought that here was a place where there could potentially be more opportunities to attract themselves some victims. "Two lead two for a length of time speaks of skill, certainly." It didn't hurt to flatter the old dog but she thought it might be at least a marginal bit of truth that to lead two different sets of dogs for an extended time would take some form of skill.

At Nosferatu's own question she shook her head. "No, this is my first time." Djavol did not like coming off as overly inexperienced in anything but in this she supposed there was no harm in admitting to it. After all, many dogs joined a pack with it being their first time and they, like she, had instinct and the general mindset of canines to be able to adapt to it well enough after some time. She was content to let that lie, but decided against it. Nosferatu had been quite open with his own past so far. "I had lived with the humans for a part of my life before I ran away. They were not cruel to me, but I viewed them as a bit boorish and brainless for all that." She had never wanted to listen to them and had felt restricted by the humans in both the physical sense and the more metaphorical one. It was only until she was out and traveling the countryside that she had felt freer.


#15
Nosferatu

Nosferatu
  • South Alps
  • 49 posts

Du erscheinst in meinem Traum
Du liebkost mein schwarzes Herz

[OCC: LOL I have absolutely no idea how this post got so long. XD]

Spendest Licht dem Lebensbaum
Du befreist mich von dem Schmerz


Perhaps it was unneeded for Nosferatu to act with such a caution; for after all, who would dare to snuff this great golem out after they had learned the truth? If someone disliked his... "profession", he would have gladly met their bared fangs with his own - if there were more than one, however, it might be more difficult. The lone, strong warrior did not always prevail over the small and many, as we all know from those fairy tales our mothers would tell us before bedtime. Something that they forgot to tell though, was the story about the black dog stalking through the night with fangs like daggers and claws like that of an overgrown wolverine. In a way, he was not so different from Djavol in the sense that he too believed, to a certain extent, that he was immortal. Every beast had their weakness or weaknesses though, and Nosferatu was no exception, he knew of the extent of his powers and the fact that he could be overthrown if enough dared oppose him. However those who dared should take into account the kind of monster they are dealing with, for in the heat of the battle with the strong smell of blood in the air, its metallic flavour burning on his tongue, spurring him on to mow down his enemies without thought or regret, there would be numerous casualties.

"It is impressive to lead any pack for a long period of time, is it not? Two lead two for a length of time speaks of skill, certainly."

It had never been a thing of Nosferatu's to preach to others, for what good did it do in the end? Youngsters having to listen to some old man trying to stuff their heads full with their ideas, the right ideas, would in most cases (unless they were easily influenced) not heed their words and simply roll their eyes at the senile mutt. It was not so difficult to understand this reaction, for even the Romanian thought such behaviour to be grating; not to say that he was hesitant to speak of his opinions when he wanted to, and being of such a great age as he was he had many things to tell others, making it easy for him to fall into some kind of ramble. However, Nosferatu was far from a poet despite of all of the minute romantic qualities he might have held deep inside of him. He saw little reason to pity himself, draw his recollections out more than necessary with unneeded details, save for the times when his conversational partner actually wanted to hear such things, the only thing making his retellings seem long-winded at times was his peculiar habit of never using contractions. Whether this had anything to do with his origin or his age or something else entirely was unknown, and he never seemed to realise this quirk himself.

Smiling slightly at the compliment, he nodded slowly, as if not sure whether that was such a great skill or not. Nosferatu didn't doubt that Djavol's nice words were true, though one could hardly blame him if he had thought her to be insincere, but there was an annoyance in him regarding those half-forgotten times. It wasn't like he doubted his own skill, oh no, to him there was no better suited leader for a pack than himself, so great were his delusions that he believed that even a vampire lusting for the throats of his underlings could lead them and allow them to prosper. "I guess that is true," Nosferatu said, not meaning to sound bashful. Instead, he seemed to have drifted off in his thoughts again, making his words appear like they came from far off. "In the very least, it is a good experience to have with you. The fact that life chooses to sometimes ruin your great progress mercilessly is seldom something you can do anything about. There are many dangers in the wild, even for canines such as us." Not to mention that Nosferatu was one as well, could even be so for this pack - also, never to forget, to himself.

"No, this is my first time. I had lived with the humans for a part of my life before I ran away. They were not cruel to me, but I viewed them as a bit boorish and brainless for all that."

There was no need to judge Djavol for her lack of experience when it came to pack life. Once upon a time Nosferatu, too, had been a lone wanderer lacking much knowledge when it came to the world, even less the wilderness. The dogs and other creatures that he would find on his travels seemed to him strange, otherworldly, as if sprung from a dream, for the world he had known for the majority of his life had consisted of white walls, slippery floors, men in white coats with strange masks over their mouths, and the dismal howling of animals in pain. "There is always a first time for everyone, even I was young and inexperienced once," he said. At the mention of the humans, Nosferatu could not help but smile ever so slightly again. "I think that description fits them well. If they are not cruel, they are stupid and dull. The intelligent ape seems to be a rare species indeed, or perhaps most of them live in some far-away place, isolated from the rest of their society." Of course, Nosferatu wasn't too serious with his little theory, but it would not be so strange if it was true, would it? One could say that the very scientists that had subjected him to experiments had been intelligent, for surely no man could have used those kinds of tools if they had been lacking in wits. "In a way, though, I think they are not as different from us as we would like to think. Many of them seem to have a desire for the cruel and morbid... whether they would like to admit it or not is another matter, but it seems to be a desire that resides within many creatures." Nosferatu went on with his speculations, allowing himself to look away from Djavol for a moment in order to see if, somewhere, there hid an animal that he could use to prove this theory, yet this eerie forest with its desolate appearance displeased him.

Word Count: 1,148




"I shall rise from my own death, to avenge hers with all the powers of darkness."

#16
Djavol

Djavol
  • South Alps
  • 27 posts

Djavol's own attention shifted minutely as Nosferatu's did as well. The much smaller dog did not fully take her eyes off of him, partly out of respect for the older dog and partly out of the general instinct to keep him in her sights at all time, but her gaze did shift to just somewhere over his shoulder as if she were waiting for something to appear. Her ears, however, remained at alert, their direction pointed unerringly towards the older dog. When he began to speak again, his words sounded quite humble and his tone just a bit distant and dreamy. As if he were ready to fall into one of those rambling reminisces that older dogs often seemed to. As interesting as he had been so far, Djavol did not think she could patiently sit and listen to something of that nature if Nosferatu chose to begin telling stories of his youth and dogs he had once known. He did not, however, slide down to impart some long, rollicking story about his younger days. He merely continued on in the same vein as he had before. In that much, at least, he seemed far better company than most older dogs that the spitz had encountered.

"Hm," was Djavol's only initial comment on his words, however; a non-committal, considering noise. She had not truly experienced life ruining her plans or her progress. She had been thwarted here or there by circumstances but never had she lost all of her plans in one fell swoop. Such things had always been the case for other dogs and never herself. Despite her general self-assurance that such things would not happen to her, she supposed that proof of the fact that it could was sitting just a scant distance away from her. Nosferatu was a veritable library full of a long life of experiences. The longer you lived, the greater your chance of encountering things. "I can see your point," she acquiesced after a long few minutes of consideration. The little female gave another pause before indulging in a fairly toothy grin, not a very common expression for her despite all of her joy experienced in watching the lifeblood of other dogs splashed out over the ground in a wondrous display. "And it is even more dangerous for canines not like us." It was the most she was willing to admit to, even if it was fairly common knowledge between all the members of the pack that most of them were less than normal, safe dogs.

The female uttered a laugh that was a bit harsh; not without humor in it, but a bit less mirthful than a normal dog's laugh might be. The thought of the older dog before her as being young and inexperienced was an alien one. Like most young creatures, Djavol had a hard time imagining a dog that was so far advanced in age compared to herself as anything young. The world was owned by the young and the strong. It was difficult to think that any dog that could be considered an elder had once been one of those youths that owned the world that she now currently viewed as her playground. Djavol could not help the slight pleased smirk that made its way onto her muzzle as Nosferatu agreed that her description of the humans fit them well. She certainly thought so. They were crude beings that relied on their eyesight, could never see what was in front of them, and thought that they ruled anything. Such egotistical mania they indulged themselves in. When they weren't doing that, they were being simpering fools who thought that every single thing on the planet was there for them to coddle and care for as if dogs and cats and wild creatures hadn't existed without their aid before. Simpletons that never learned; that was her overall opinion of the humans.

"I have not personally experienced their cruelty, but I have seen the results of it. I have certainly experienced their stupidity. I am inclined to agree with all your thoughts on them." The thought of meeting a human that was intelligent, as intelligent as any dog that she had ever known, was such a foreign concept to her. Of course, she did not have Nosferatu's experience on meeting scientists. She could not know that the humans that had imprisoned and tormented him had been considered the brightest of their kind. To her, there was no such thing as a capable, dependable and intelligent human being.

The brown eyes shifted again, following Nosferatu's own gaze as he appeared to look for something. The forest was as dead and still as it had appeared when she had first set paw into it, however. A curious place. She knew that there had to be game and predators; it was still a healthy and thriving area. However, you would never know that from the utter silence and darkness that seemed to manifest from the very branches of the trees themselves. A dark, desolate, depressing place indeed. A fitting home for a pack such as theirs. "Yes, I believe it does," she agreed quiet readily with his statement about cruelty residing in all creatures. There was little doubt of that which rested firmly in her own soul. Though Nosferatu stated little about himself in that light, his hints and actions made the little female quite certain that he was the same way. "Many creatures won't admit it. Not just the humans." And that rankled a bit. Djavol had always been forced to be careful about her little interests and desires. Most dogs seemed to frown on her luring an unsuspecting victim into waiting jaws, only so she could enjoy the show of their death throes.



#17
Nosferatu

Nosferatu
  • South Alps
  • 49 posts

Du erscheinst in meinem Traum
Du liebkost mein schwarzes Herz

[OCC: New table pic! Also changed my previous posts to have this table, since inconsistency is bad.]

Spendest Licht dem Lebensbaum
Du befreist mich von dem Schmerz


"Hm, I can see your point, And it is even more dangerous for canines not like us."

A grin, hanging all askew appeared on his face as Djavol came with her statement preceded by her very own, wicked smile. It was always an interesting sight to see two malevolent creatures converse or otherwise interact with one another; like a car crash, one knew that it would be best to look away, to spare one's own innocence lest the mutilated bodies scar one's psyche till the damage was irreparable, but there was something fascinating in watching the two dogs, perhaps because - just like a terrible accident - it was uncommon to behold a scene such as this. Of course, if one stayed in these territories long enough one would soon see more demons discussing atrocities or planning heinous crimes, but to the great and ordinary mass it was a rare sight to behold. "Naturally, they have much to fear beyond mother nature's own wrath," said Nosferatu with a nod as to further approve of Djavol's words. Not all supposedly "evil" canines had the intelligence to outsmart their adversaries or their victims, but then they usually had the brawn to win a fight; if not, then they owed their survival to their wits. If they had neither? Well, then perhaps their lust for bloodshed would give them a victory against an opponent that opposed the idea of killing, and thus they emerged victorious not because they had any skills to speak of, but rather because they were lucky. Nosferatu did not disregard the notion of luck, but to him those without any redeeming skills were merely pawns that could be got rid of in favour of the more valuable pieces.

Djavol's laughter did not offend the older mix, for how could one not see the humour in imagining the hulking vampire as a pup or a youngster? If he had been around the same age as the female then he would most likely have laughed at this idea as well, had an elder brought the topic up. It was well-known that most young creatures thought of themselves as more or less immortal, and they lived in a world separated from their elders where they believed that it was they who had the power to change it to their liking; surely, this was true to an extent, even an ageist like Nosferatu could not deny so much, but what were they without their "superiors"? Indeed, without those old fools the whelps of today would not even be alive! But for as much as he disliked the young canines of today, there were still remarkable similarities between him and them. Though Nosferatu knew deep down that he was not immortal, a belief that he would live on forever still resided within him alongside his thirst for power, which might not have been as great as his longing for blood, but nevertheless great in its own right. Aside from all of this, he had all of the positive characteristics of an experienced canine; there was no doubt that Nosferatu had delusions of grandeur, but he was far from as reckless as the youth that he both loathed and envied.

"I have not personally experienced their cruelty, but I have seen the results of it. I have certainly experienced their stupidity. I am inclined to agree with all your thoughts on them."

"Yes, even if one has not been the victim of their cruelty, it is very easy to see how their actions change the world and its creatures," said Nosferatu, his floppy ears flickering slightly as he looked askance, as if he saw something moving in the corner of his eye; but it was nothing, simply a phantom from the past. Seeing as Djavol had not stayed with the humans for long, it was no wonder that she knew very little of them and their different kinds. Not to say that Nosferatu was an expert on the subject, oh no, but he had seen his share of humans in his stay at the laboratory, and it was only foolish to deny them the intelligence they so clearly possessed. But simply because a creature knew how to do their job splendidly, it did not mean that they were worthy of being admired in general; the ragged old man could admire their actions and their creations while also fearing them and look upon them with disgust, but as a whole the human race appeared to him as a blemish on the world, a fascinating one perhaps, but still something they would all be better off without. The vampiric dog was an ambivalent and not to mention complicated being, the only thing set in stone was his undying love for the taste of blood.

"Yes, I believe it does, Many creatures won't admit it. Not just the humans."

For a short while Nosferatu had stopped in order to take in the surroundings, but without lowering his own guard; though he doubted that Djavol would be able to do him any greater harm, or that she had any reason to do so, it was nonetheless unwise to underestimate someone, especially a cunning female that had decided to join the Southern Alps. The forest might have been depressing to most, but to a creature who was most active at night it was a welcome sight, a small sanctuary in the midst of the southern territories. Both the darkness and the silence pleased him, though the small quantity of prey was somewhat annoying. "You have no issues admitting it, I am sure," was Nosferatu's reply as he looked directly towards Djavol once again. Obviously, from what one could tell from their short conversation, there was no doubt that she understood what he spoke of very well. Most of the members of this pack ought to agree to Nosferatu's theory, even those who were less of the malicious kind and more of the misunderstood would give a brief nod in agreement. "And, of course, neither do I."

Word Count: 1,093
Table picture by Klomonx




"I shall rise from my own death, to avenge hers with all the powers of darkness."

#18
Djavol

Djavol
  • South Alps
  • 27 posts

That wicked grin remained upon her own jaws for longer than it rightly should have as Nosferatu's own countenance split forth into his own grin as she spoke. It was a disconcerting sort of a smile and yet even as she thought that the smaller female had no desire to pull away or to run. Like called to like, after all. She couldn't help a slight, cruel chuckle at the older dog's words. Oh yes. They had much to fear though many of them seemed to not know it. Djavol was not fond of dogs that were idiots but at the same time she preyed upon those that were stupid enough to fall into simple luring traps. Her own fun would be stinted if those same, infuriating individuals did not know well enough to know that there were things to fear besides winter, starvation and the bears that were the largest of predators in these lands really.

Despite what could have been perceived as rudeness, her laughter did not seem to affect the larger dog at all and that was to the good. Djavol was not quite so trusting that she would count herself as worried if she did offend Nosferatu but she was certainly cautious enough that she would not want to anger him. Though she trusted in her speed and her judgment, it would be a bad thing to make an enemy of a fellow pack mate - especially one that had Nosferatu's size. Though she could not claim that she was growing fond of the older dog, there was a connection there; perhaps the simple feeling that came of knowing that you were both 'on the same side' so to speak or perhaps it was a bit more. Nosferatu certainly hadn't come out and said anything, much like Djavol herself had not, but his... habits seemed to trend towards some of Djavol's own. She would not turn down another companion who could provide her with the metaphorical thirst of hers that never seemed to be quenched.

The white and brown dog gave an agreeable nod to the older dog's words. Humans were everywhere, it seemed. One would be hard pressed to not come across them or across something that they had altered. Djavol was perhaps not old enough - or damaged enough by the humans - to wonder what the world would be like without them but she certainly wished there were less of them. "Yes, that seems to be the case. At least there has been little sign of them here." Although Djavol was not foolish enough to believe that could last, she was certainly young enough to hope that it would. She was not a puppy but she had not lost the concept of hoping for something that was impractical or impossible either, a thing that often was only lost with a bitter and harsh reminder of what life could truly be like or with advanced age.

The small female gave a snort at Nosferatu's words. Oh, a part of her didn't like admitting it but it was a perverse sort of feeling; a liking to keep what she was hidden so that she could trick and fool the world. At the same time, to the right sort of individual she had no problem admitting what she was, what it was that drew her and what she liked. The world was, excuse the expression, dog eat dog. If others were too stupid to realize that then it was none of her concern. They would be the ones to perish beneath her will and the fangs of another (unless that dog was small enough for the spitz to do the deed herself). There was another of those harsh chuckles. "No, I do not. Not to the right set of ears. As I suppose neither do you," she agreed to his words as well as including him into her own sentence, pointing out that he most likely wouldn't admit it to the wrong animal; not unless he was assured of his victory. The old dog seemed far too clever a beast for that.


#19
Nosferatu

Nosferatu
  • South Alps
  • 49 posts

Du erscheinst in meinem Traum
Du liebkost mein schwarzes Herz

[OCC: ]

Spendest Licht dem Lebensbaum
Du befreist mich von dem Schmerz


There were much to gain and little to lose for Nosferatu if he chose to form some kind of alliance with Djavol. Their similarities would provide them with enough reason to refrain from betraying one another, for why alienate a partner when you could create so much chaos together, as opposed to throwing the other into his or her own little pit of chaos? Nosferatu was not the kind who sought to torture every being he came across, either - though an inherent desire to taste blood, even from the closest of comrades, he was not attempting to rid the world of anything. Not even the extinction of humans was on his list, even though they were rightfully despised by the old man, for he knew that there was no way that any canine could ever hope to achieve such a feat. Of course, wholly impossible it was not, but to him it was merely a waste of energy and time. As for the canines themselves, Nosferatu bore little ill-will towards them, and why would he want to get rid of them when they provided him with such delicious juices?

"Yes, that seems to be the case. At least there has been little sign of them here."

Another smile, but this time fleeting, appeared on his countenance. Djavol's words brought up more theories in his mind, and as he imagined the former humans of these territories being torn to shreds by the dogs who now inhibited the lands - or their ancestors - a sense of pleasure settled itself over him. Yes, this was not such a bad place. The darkness little disturbed him, whether it be the murkiness of the forest or the dark atmosphere covering the Southern Alps; both the "tangible" and the metaphorical gloom were welcome. The fact that humans seemed to be absent, perhaps even wholly so, made it all the better. Nosferatu, too, wasn't so stupid to believe wholeheartedly in this, yet it would have been a pretty thing if it was true. "We would surely be blessed if they were completely gone from here," he eventually replied. "But if some remain, I believe that it will not be for very long." It was easily assumed that Nosferatu would have relished in embracing the throat of a human, and rightfully so, but there were infinite dangers in taking such liberties. Killing a dog could be dangerous indeed, in the case that the victim in question had friends who would go out of their way to avenge their fallen friend, but the chances of getting away with murder on a fellow canine were much greater. They had no tools at their disposal like the humans, and the latter seemed to have an almost scary account of each individual in their society. If one went missing, they would know, and they would not rest in their searches.

"No, I do not. Not to the right set of ears. As I suppose neither do you,"

This was as good as a confirmation of the other's dark desires. Naturally, Nosferatu could not know exactly what it was that made just Djavol tick, but it was easy enough to speculate as to what it was. Most of the dogs who found themselves in this kind of company had a penchant for the macabre, for gore and the other vile sides of life, so it was not strange to come with assumptions that she too had some kind of love for stealing lives away. While Nosferatu did not really have a desire to kill per-se, his need for blood oftentimes made it hard for him to leave his victims behind alive. It didn't bother him though, if anything he seemed to be quite neutral on this point. It would have been a lie to say that the sight of death did not excite him in the least, but it had little to do with being pleased that he had successfully eliminated a foolish creature than it had to do with being able to view a landscape bathed in red. "Of course not, why deny something that is so obviously a part of our nature?" Many were those who would have liked to disagree, but they were not present to hear this discussion. "I am somewhat curious as to the combination of you and your partner, if you would not mind telling me?" If Nosferatu had been right, then Djavol would not mind going into details, and even if she did not yet feel safe enough to reveal such secrets then there were plenty of time to make her do so eventually. Patience was something that the vampire had an over-abundance of and he would not become irritated easily. At the off-chance that his interest would gradually die out, it could always be rekindled in the future. In any case, there was nothing to fear from trying to get more information out of the spitz; if she proved to be interested, then perhaps Nosferatu would even reveal his own secret.

Word Count: 908
Table picture by Klomonx




"I shall rise from my own death, to avenge hers with all the powers of darkness."

#20
Djavol

Djavol
  • South Alps
  • 27 posts

Though Djavol had joined this pack with a partner in crime, so to speak, she was not against forming other alliances. Everything in the world was there for her pleasure and her gain, or so she liked to believe. Akuma provided her with the sport and the craving that she desired. If another dog could or would do that then she would double the amount of entertainment that she viewed. Greed was definitely not an unknown quantity to the spitz and she was still young enough that she had not fully learned that excess could be damning in the right situations. She did not voice her thoughts out loud, however. Not quite yet. Though she was young and sometimes had the belief of the young - that she was invincible and no harm would come to her - she was still cautious about certain things; her personal cravings were one of those things. She had learned that testing the waters often got her farther in her quests in life than plunging right in. She had not yet gathered enough information from dipping her paws in to take that plunge just yet.

The tiniest of frowns flitted across the brown and white dog's face at the older male's words. She inhaled a deep breath through her nose and then exhaled it in a quick gust of air, almost a snort. "I suppose you're right. From what I've seen and known of them, they never content themselves to stay where they are." After all, hadn't her own humans carted her across the waters for reasons unknown? She had heard from other dogs, here and there, about how mankind seemed to always be pushing further and further throughout the lands. That they had a relatively human free sanctuary was a blessing but one, if Nosferatu was to believed, that could not last forever. Well, she supposed if you took in the fact that there once had been humans here - the very heart of the Southern Alps gave claim to that very fact - then it made sense that they might return again. She was not out for the slaughter of humankind. For one, they had never done anything overtly bad to her save be boring and stupid. For another, her own diminutive size had given her a perspective on life that many other dogs did not have. She knew that she could not overthrow a dog Nosferatu's size. How would she then overthrow a human which was taller and had things at their disposal that she did not understand? Another dog she would not hesitate to want to see their lifeblood slowly drip out but a human made little impact in her wants and desires. "Hopefully they will stay themselves for some time yet."

The spitz gave her head a brief shake and then allowed a slight smirk to work its way onto her muzzle again. One ear flicked slightly in amusement. "I believe there are many that would argue with your words, but I wholly agree with them." Of course, most of the Southern Alps dogs would not argue with their words. They were all one of a kind for the most part, just different levels and variances of that kind. Most dogs she had met, however, had been appalled and outraged rather than understanding. That smirk grew just a little bit at Nosferatu's next question. There was another brief pause and a wondering of if she should give him the answer he desired or keep him in the dark. It was not out of a desire to be cruel or teasing that she considered this. She just wasn't sure if she would trust him - in so much as she ever trusted anyone. "I am the pretty lure, the bait, for the trap," she told the older dog after another moment's thought. The Leaders already knew and there were surely worse crimes amidst the members of the pack than her own, or so she liked to believe.

Djavol stood from where she had been seated for this discussion. She put a certain bit of something into her expression, her stance, her movements - something that conveyed acting rather than truth. She adapted a cocky, snarling countenance. "Come and fight me, you think I can't take you? Coward!" The expression changed into something more flirty and she paced a few steps forward, practically slinking. "Such a strong male, maybe we should go and have some fun," she put a lilt into her voice before she gave her entire body a brief shake, the false emotions falling away back to her normal expression. "Snap." She grinned just a bit. Her acting was better when she was trying to lure someone but it got the point across quite well, she felt.





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