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 Posted: Thu Jan 21, 2010 5:26 pm
Keegan was not necessarily a gambling man. He never bet on things unless he liked his odds, and he more often than not never bet on things he didn't already have insider information about. It was called caution, and it had served him well thus far in his dealings. Someone had to be business conscious, Bree wasn't exactly spouting out ideas. No, taking charge was his role. And when he'd learned of the recent fortunes attained by their former acquaintance Kraken, well, it certainly opened a few doors for the two.
So much power, so much potential. Why, it was like having a personal army at your disposal without having to maintain them. A mass of brute strength he could call on at the simplest whim. That was definately an enticing business proposition. He just had to secure it.
Females were well-known to be crippled by the disease of self-obsession. They always wanted to be pretty, or clever, or something. Men were not so afflicted. Kraken in particular was engulfed in retaining praise for any move she made. She liked the power, the attention, and to be fawned over. So of course, Kraken enjoyed being in the company of those whom had no other choice but to adore her and serve her. Such blessed souls, such divine givers, these openhearted bearers of devotion were, of course, slaves.
They'd already obtained Nelos. A female they would be more than glad to be rid of. Living so long in the company of Bree left one in absolute shock when the two realized Nelos was a creature that was never silent. Literally never.
"...and it's not even sunny. How can you expect me to follow your stupid plans if I can't even-"
"Shut up! Shut up, shut up, shut up! Your incessant chatter is meaningless!"
"Well I never! Some brat of a wolf you are aren't you, and I'm supposed to just-"
The rest was lost on the male as he grudgingly bared forward. Leave the nonsense to Bree. Although his sister was rare of words, he had a feeling if ever she were to erupt into a rage, Nelos would be the one to bring it about.
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Posted: Fri Jan 22, 2010 4:52 pm
 Edgar once heard someone say "Hope was a thing with feathers", which left him to wonder if there was a bird called Hope he was supposed to be seeking out in order to obtain hope - non-capitalized, that is. Would that explain why even when he had found a pack to stay in for a short while, he had never felt "at peace"? Not that Edgar knew what that felt like either; born disgraces don't tend to know intangible notions like love, grace, and in this case even hope, unless they were born lucky - and really, who had ever heard of a lucky misfit? But perhaps Hope would know and teach him about things beyond his linear, uncontrolled, boring life. He supposed it'd be nice . . .
Really, Edgar didn't recall when he decided to move away from YMCA. Animosity wasn't exactly open, and the alpha had never been condescending to him. But did being disliked need to be spoken aloud? After all, Merrill had alwasy complaiend at his lack of energy and horrid smell, his inability to keep himself clean and lacking the care neccessary to do so. Nag, nag, nag . . . He had done well and fine on his own in this current lifestyle; but of course, being the beta, she had to exert her apparantly power over him, a mere vagabond.
Or so they thought. Or so they all thought . . .
His mind separated from the physical realm for several heartbeats, wrapped up in darker illusions of what could have been, his ears twitched to the sound of voices. Wolves, two of them. Yet . . . His whiskers twitched, bringing his mind back once more. Three smells? Strange . . . Gray eyes began to scan the immediate area, catching three moving forms just a little off from his position, yet heading as if towards his direction. His fur bristled. Would a confrontation occur so soon? He wasn't in any mood to fight as usual.
Perhaps the stench would just scare the maway, like it normally did to fuzzy woodland creatures.
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Posted: Thu Jan 28, 2010 6:17 pm
As if Keegan's day couldn't get any worse, an awful, seriously awful, stench seemed to be trying to choke out his senses. If he were more sensitive he was certain he would have gagged, perhaps even teared up a little. It just drove his nose mad, and not the good kind of 'genius' mad. It was the bad kind of 'do stupid things because you're a crazy fool' mad. Not the image he wanted to portray at all.
Nelos seemed to have fallen prey to it as well, as for the first few minutes in days there was actual silence behind him. Sweet glorious gods!
He assumed his sister was fending off the same foe as he and Nelos, as he heard her sneeze a few times before falling silent again. What on earth could smell so foul?
Shutting his eyes against it as if it were some type of poison gas, the blue male spurned in the direction that caused his nostrils to burn the most. Despite his mind falling into panic mode at his actions. He was in command over his body, not the other way around. Similarly he had the same authority over Nelos and Bree, and the two were soon at his heels, albeit with much disdain.
It was slowly beginning to dawn on Keegan that this was no dead animal, or creature escaped from Hell. Eyes lighting upon brown fur, he was almost entirely disarmed in his shock.
"You there! Tell me what's with this odor business?!"
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Posted: Thu Jan 28, 2010 7:26 pm
It was like one moment there had been nothing there. Then a blink. Figures. Blink. Three figures. Blink. One really blue one, one really brownish one, one really silvery one. Blink. An eyeful of the blues - wingy. The blue wings demanded answers, so Edgar supposed he had to give them, even if colors were a bit haughty to be asking for much of anything these days. They hurt his eyes honestly, so he had to look at the dirt. Dull brown and not as harmful; better!
"I smell," the overgrown rat-wolf rasped, clearly having gone without water. "But it usually repels. You like the smell of death?" A "yes" would seem out of place for him and his feminine comrades, but Edgar felt the need to ask anyway. "Mayhaps you've come to bring me to hell at last. Mother always said I'd be brought there, always said so . . ." But really, how was he supposed to know that dead rats by wolves would kill them? It was just meant to be a scare, not start a plague . . . Not that the end result didn't come out satisfactory. Teasing nullified.
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Posted: Thu Jan 28, 2010 8:02 pm
Being so close to the source of the smell particularly bothered Keegan's senses, but even Bree seemed to let such things go as she stood staring at the absolutely silent Nelos. This had to have been a world record with the brown female. Keegan and Bree were so surprised that it actually made the smell a bit more tolerable.
Actually, a lot more tolerable.
This could easily work towards there advantage. Sizing the male up, Keegan didn't really think there'd be much trouble should Bree hassle the male into joining them on their journey. If nothing else they could dump him off with Nelos, and let silence reign over the land.
And Hell, who ever said work was easy?
"As a matter of fact, that's exactly why we're here."
Bree tore her gaze from the current captive to narrow her eyes at her brother. He was always sticking his nose where he shouldn't, but to be so absurd as to start into this? It would be a pain, true as that. But a pain she would have to deal with, knowing his tendency to push things off on her.
"I expect you've got everything packed already? Said bye to the Missus? Any more dead s**t you'd like to roll in first, or maybe you'd rather not risk any stink rubbing off?" Keegan liked to be rude, in an upbeat and cheerful voice. It made his days go just a little bit better.
"No time to waste now, no one wants to be late to die."
And after all, being with Kraken was about the same degree of Hell as being dead.
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Posted: Fri Jan 29, 2010 10:44 am
He considered Blue Wing's words almost thoughtfully with a zombie-like stare. Huh . . . He had never thought Death would be so colorful in pelt and language. Maybe he got bored for long periods of time and learned other tasty insults like "dead s**t". Edgar never knew excrement could be living or dead; of course, such knowledge would be privy to Death himself after all. Blue Winged Death - perhaps The Hope with feathers he had sought out for so long? Funny to be hesitant now. Maybe he did want to continue his miserable existance as a blot on the land after all . . .
"I have no missus," the rat replied lamely, "no pack of my own, so let's get it over with. Is Hell far from here, Blue-Winged Death? And will dying be painful? Edgar was no less reticent with him than he was with any other living creature. He eyed the two femmes still with that vacant look, wondering briefly if they were Death's right and left paws come to do the dirty work for him. "Perhaps a quick mauling will do. Should I lay down and expose my neck and stomach, or do you not care that I stand as I die?"
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Posted: Mon Feb 08, 2010 2:52 am
The new comer's hesitation was evident to Keegan's little party, but none dared speak. Bree was silently pleading with spirits to rectify the matter, while Nelos was furiously counting in her head in an attempt to distract herself from having to actually breathe. The blue male was pleased, he enjoyed awkward moments. They were always easily taken charge of.
"Hell can be wherever you want it to be, but for you, it's a bit of a trek from here. As for dying, well, I'd rather not spoil the surprise." If he was lucky, maybe Kraken would kill him. Keegan imagined after a few too many wrong answers or poorly fumbled song verses the blind princess would turn upon this new-found merchandise and tear him to pieces. But then again, one could never really be sure of such things. Despite this oddly rat-like wolf's foul smell, he seemed to have his head on well-enough.
Besides, the idea of getting close enough to him to actually bite him, let alone taste his flesh, was enough to offset the typically cold male. Scent had never been a defensive-mechanism the blue wolf had even considered before. By God, this was a learning experience.
"Now quit your gibbering, and you best keep that charming breath of yours to yourself."
Really now, he could smell it from here.
Nelos fancied she would just faint. And for a brief moment she did. Whether it was from the smell, or her success in not breathing, Bree didn't bother to determine. All the vagabond cared about was how many times she had to kick her prisoner in the face before the orange pelted slave began to stir.
Keegan didn't notice, but then again Bree hadn't expected him too.
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Posted: Mon Feb 08, 2010 3:26 pm
Hmm . . . Apparently Death's paws were not without their own humane (wolfish? wolfane? wolfid?) flaws. Perhaps live souls taken under his wing to escape his clutches down under? Edgar wouldn't have blamed them. Still, he crinkled his fleshy-colored muzzle with a frown as one of the females, the browny-orange one, saw fit to faint before them. Almost self-consciously, Edgar sniffed himself, pondering for a moment if his smell could even kill . . . No, no, the femme was up after some coercion from the silent silver one. If his scent could kill, though . . . A minor thrill went through him at the fantasy.
Yet his outward appearance remained as haggard and listless as ever as he bobbed his head obediently towards the winged-blue hope, speaking only with his head hung low so that the ground would be the only victim of his breath. "Yes, sir . . ." He wondered what "a bit of a trek from here" meant, but that meant expending more energy to takl which only caused more disgust, so for now he decided to hold it back. Wouldn't be wise to piss Death off after all.
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