she's broken [ open, death ]

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    [center][fancypost=background-color:;border:0px;width:500px;text-align:justify;font-size:8pt;line-height:1.4;]/tw for blood n gore + sorry + this is on mobile so apologies if parts make no sense


    Slender limbs propel a petite figure across the terrain, branches grasping desperately at the creature as she passes. It is nightfall, the sky a deep, dark blue-black hue and a gentle wind disturbs the trees. She is not sure where she is going, but the pale ivory moon is full tonight, and she just cannot fall asleep when it casts everything in a glowing silver light. Something is calling to her, but she does not know what. Whatever it is, she cannot resist; allowing her half-conscious mind to operate on autopilot as she drifts gracefully through the wood. The crickets chirp a sweet symphony, singing in harmony with the whispering wind. It is peaceful.


    Imperia does not stop to question the motives of this unknown force until she arrives... somewhere. It is a dark clearing. Massive trees loom around the clearing, their branches like fingers as they stretch out across the night sky. The girl hesitates, looking about her person with rising panic as she suddenly realizes that the crickets no longer sing and the wind is no longer blowing. Everything is still; quiet. No. No, no, no. She must leave now, but it is already too late.


    Just as the gunmetal grey lupine turns to make her escape, a figure melts from the shadows, pale eyes gleaming silver in the moonlight. It is a massive canine, fur as inky black as the darkness surrounding it. "Bonjour, ma petite." rumbles a a deep baritone. The honeyed words chill her bones, freezing the paladin in place. She wants to scream, to run away. But she cannot. She is powerless before him. She always has, and always will. "S-salut, Papa," chokes the girl in reply, forcing her body to turn and face him. She cannot meet his gaze. "I-I did not expect to meet you here." her voice is meek, delicate frame trembling as she senses his approach. Imperia need not see him to know that he now loomed above her.


    "Why did you run?" his voice was now a growl, rumbling in her ear. Peri squeaked, sinking to the ground in a submissive crouch, licking her lips in a silent plead for mercy. "Maman et moi were devastated." Blizzardclan was not safe - she knew it. She knew she should not have settled down, instead opting for a life on the run. He would find her. He always did. "D-désolé, Papa. I did not mean to--" her panicked response was interrupted by a forceful kick to her stomach, knocking the girl to the ground with a sharp cry of pain. But she did not get up or try to escape. She lied there, curled up in a ball, her entire body trembling in fear. "No!" Monsieur Arceneau roared, teeth flashing in the moonlight mere centimeters away from her face. "No excuses you pathetic little brat!" he kicked her again, this time in the skull. Her jaws clacked together, pain shooting through the nerves in her teeth and neck aching in protest to the unnatural movement - she was sure something had broken. "Papa! Please! I-I will come home! I--" claws sunk into the flesh of her belly, interrupting her frantic bargaining as her flesh burned, a copious flow of blood soon oozing down her silver pelt and staining the ground below. Imperia was crying now, word caught in her throat.


    "You know the punishment for disobeying me! I thought--" he paused to grasp her throat in her jaws and toss her limp form to the side as if she weighed nothing. "--I taught this to you long ago! You ungrateful, worthless little worm!" Monsieur Arceneau emphasized every word with another kick, another chunk of flesh peeling away beneath his claws. The brute was not satisfied until Imperia no longer made so much as a whimper. The pain was unbearable - windpipe damaged and bleeding, the soft flesh on her underbelly torn, and not to mention the several ribs and bones that had broken from the force of her father's fury.


    Tears dripped noiselessly down her bloodied visage, too weak to ever cry out for help. Peri had known that this day would come. Monsieur Arceneau would never let her escape - no, her entire time here had been too good to be true. She should have never run from the Exiles. She should have stayed. The drunken beatings were never so severe, plus she had Katherine to keep her company as her wounds healed. But freedom had tasted too good. What a fool she was.


    [fancypost=border-width:0; font-size: 8pt; text-align: center; line-height: 95%; width:450px;] ✧ — THESE WOUNDS, THEY WILL NOT HEAL /[color=#fff] TAGS

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    IM GONNA CRY MY BABY PERi im at least 76 levels of shook rn
    TRACKIN G



    ------------------>intella



    ic;;

    The newcomer was out on a nighttime stroll; something she made a habit of ever since joining BlizzardClan. These nighttime strolls offered the ex-loner of about 10 moons some peace and mindfulness; as much as she was enjoying her new home, Intella still had her old ways of solitude pretty ingrained in her. Which was rather understandable; more than two thirds of her life had been spent peacefully alone, after all. She'd leave and explore, and take in the crisp night air as soon as most of her clanmates laid to rest for the day.


    Just as she was admiring the nighttime noises, bathing her lungs in the clean nighttime air, she picked up on something terribly, horribly wrong. A strong, metallic scent rushed over her, however far it was; sinister noises could be heard in the distance; her meditative state was entirely broken, and Intella was flooded with urgency. She had to do something!


    The way the inventor saw it, she had two options, if it wasn't already too late that is. She could rush back to where everyone was, and wake them all one my one - something rather inefficient due to her lack of the ability to scream out and make an uproar. Or, Intella could advance, and most likely die herself as well. Neither option really seemed like the best idea, in all truth. Unless, perhaps there was another way...


    And then, the engineer finally thought of something that might just maybe, just possibly, be the most efficient. She knew the outcome would probably be grim, but... she had to try something, whether she would succeed or not! Pulling her sack off of the base of her tail, it was time to get to work.


    Intella took the small wooden tools she had carved out, and grabbed a rock. She got her little box of gun power she had snatched up from the old abandoned junkyard she used to reside by, as well as the remains of a bird skeleton she had cleaned out as the shell of a new invention she had been planning...but you could always get another bird corpse. This was urgent.


    She essentially finished up within a few minutes, having made rockets out of bird corpses before. She attached some extra pebbles, hoping to make enough noise between the rattling and little explosion to wake someone up in time back at home, struck one of her matches, and set it off back in the direction of camp, and watched as the pebbles dropped in a trail. The explosion, at worst, could only scorch and not seriously injure someone.


    And now, it was time for caution up above. She packed her things and took to the trees, waiting, slowly advancing in a way she couldn't be spotted.




    ooc;;

    ajewfbvkeasdbkf I'm too new to really know who she is so hope you don't mind aa ;; i just had this idea for her to try, lmk if it isn't really open open yet


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    [font=georgia]He has always loved the night sky. So distant, the stars, but they seemed so close, sparkling in the deep midnight velvet of the firmament, playing out their dramas in the black stage of the night away from everything. The stars never seemed to change and Aleksei always wondered what stories they had seen throughout the universe. A lot, he knew, as they have shone on for so long. Too long--he wondered if stars could die. They did, he was sure. Everything ended. Something in him told him that even the flames of the eternal stars one day would go out and collapse in on themselves.


    Tonight, the light of the full moon seemed to absorb the heavens in its silver cast. It was interesting to him how the moon seemed to block out the glow of the star sometimes. Usually at this time of the night, Aleksei would be bundled up with his brother in their room, blankets tucked around them, but he could not waste tonight, especially since the moon provided enough light for him to be out at night, starwatching. Sure, there was the problem that some of the stars couldn't be seen in the silver lunar glare but...it was peaceful at night. Quiet. Silence, except for the low hum of insects in the background. There was a small sound of contentment from his jaws and he half-closed in his eyes, satisfied, pausing in his steps.


    However, the tranquility of the night was broken by the sounds of voices. Voices--he wasn't sure who and a low rumble of irritation came from his jaws, teeth set against each other. Aleksei knew he had anger management issues. This reaction was expected by him and he had half a mind to find whoever was disturbing the night and do something to them. Swallowing his ire, he set off at a steady pace to find the cause. As he neared the scene, the voices--one grew more familiar. Imperia. Another one--unfamiliar. The sound of pain.


    There was a slight touch of concern for the silvery wolf. Admittedly, Aleksei despised her meek attitude towards life, always cringing, always hiding, but she had shown him some sort of real kindness by offering him the books and music. Did that count for something? He had thanked her, but was the debt repaid? He took no stock in words. Only actions. Aleksei's steps quickened as the scent of blood crossed his muzzle. Blood, all too familiar. His jaw set slightly and he burst onto the scene, coming out of the shadows like one of them given physical form. The dark creature barely registered Intella's presence in his rush to get to the scene and his blue gaze instantly snapped towards the wolf standing over Imperia's form.


    His head shifted slightly to glance over the silver wolf's body. Crumpled. Blood. It took less than one second to gauge the situation, judge what happened and a rumbling snarl was in his throat as he lunged for the wolf. There was no sound except for that growl ripping from him as he aimed to tackle the larger creature, hoping to headbutt Monsieur Arceneau hard with his horns and possibly knock him down with the attack. There was a familiar heat in the back of his throat--he was going to light this bitch on fire and watch him fucking burn. Aleksei might be smaller than the wolf, but he had surprise and sheer rage on his side and the intent on doing something.

    [center][font=times new roman]"COME AND MATCH THESE HANDS, BOY"
    [c] Paxdad Productions

    [center][fancypost=background-color:;border:0px;width:500px;text-align:justify;font-size:8pt;line-height:1.4;]/feel free to kill him/powerplay


    A shaggy black figure erupted from the shadows, moving so quickly that Monsieur Arceneau had no time to raise his defense. "Grck!" a strangled noise gurgled in his throat as something rammed into him. The ebony wolf was tossed the ground with a sickening crack of some of his ribs. "What in the--?!" exclaimed the male with fury, gritting his teeth and forcing himself to his paws. Who dared attack him? It certainly could not be a friend of his worthless daughter's - the worm was not nearly attractive enough to even get people to look at her. Who would ever want to interact with a pathetic creature who could not even say three words without stuttering? Bah, if only he had been given a son, instead.


    Eyes the same steely hue as Imperia's flashed with anger, locking on the unusual dragon-like creature. Pfft, an ugly little runt was challenging him? Hah! "Bad choice." Monsieur Arceneau said with a growl before launching himself at Aleksei tactlessly, jaws snapping as he lunged for the throat. He had brute strength, but he was not very smart. Years of beating up women and children had filled him with a dangerous arrogance, though he seemed to forget that not everyone was as submissive or defenseless as his wife and daughter.


    ...


    Meanwhile, Imperia was fighting to maintain consciousness. It was odd, the feeling that was dying. As told by the faded scars peppering her silver pelt, the paladin had suffered beatings for many moons; this time, however, it was different. It had hurt then, but now she could quite literally feel her life ebbing away with each weak heartbeat. She was dizzy... almost weightless. It felt strange. Should she let go? The train of thought frightened her, and she pushed herself as far from the edge as she could manage. Her vision cleared for a moment, long enough to see an obsidian figure engage in combat with her father. How odd... the horns, the short stature... it looked like... "A..lek..sei?" croaked the wounded wolf, a surge of blood gushing from her throat with a frail cough.


    Why is he here? Imperia was sure he disliked her, and yet here he was, fighting off her father. It is finally time someone stood up to him. Such a shame Peri would never get the chance to do so herself. She had been too weak. Too weak to protect herself and her mother. Too weak to speak to others even though she knew she should not be afraid. Did death always resurface so many regrets? It was touching that Aleksei had arrived (despite being unsure whether or not it was simply for the fight or because he actually cared). "Ple..ase.." please what? Kill her father? Save her? Comfort her before she died? She lost consciousness before she could finish. It did not hurt so bad anymore...


    [fancypost=border-width:0; font-size: 8pt; text-align: center; line-height: 95%; width:450px;] ✧ — THESE WOUNDS, THEY WILL NOT HEAL /[color=#fff] TAGS

    [center][fancypost= bgcolor= opacity: 0.5; borderwidth=0px; width: 440px;][align=justify]Volkan wasn't the type of wolf to go strolling around in the night. The problem he knew was he couldn't be able to see where he was going in the first place. Only he felt somewhat confident in himself to go stroll around on his own, just for practice. He was able to slowly adjust on not relying on his eyes anymore, but the noises around him, the smells of nature, the careful touch of the ground beneath him. Just a lot of time to focus on everything else around him.


    He slowly began to venture down into the darkness of the woods. His hearing honed in on the silence of the trees, but also heard the soft floor of his paws touching over, feeling bits of grassy spots and leaves. After wondering around, avoiding trees and rocks, his pelt prickled when he heard voices, really loud ones. It sounded violent, like a fight was going on. His uneasiness waved over him, his pace quickening for a while before smell of blood flooded into his nose.


    Touching around a bit, the obsidian wolf felt something warm and and sticky. More blood... The fur along his spine spiked up, catching Imperia's scent all over it. His ears flicked around to hear her breathing, worry flushed over him as he sense her there, lying on the ground.


    "Imperia!" he barked at her in fright, going over to her side. The smell of an unknown stranger was lurking, as well as Aleksei's. He must be fighting the stranger...and he had harmed one of his clanmates. A burning rage began boiling inside him, the wolf's black form slowly brightening red and orange, his back almost bursting into flames. The bandage around his eyes couldn't stand the heat and instantly burns off, his amber eyes glowing bright like the blazing sun. He had to calm himself down a bit so he wouldn't burn her when he was so close to her. He took a long breath and exhales, staring down at her. "Don't worry, I won't leave your side," he reassured her.

    [fancypost=width:50%; text-align:justify; font-size:9; font-family:georgia;]The smell of blood was all too familiar to the Head Medic, who dealt with injuries and blood on the daily basis. But something about this was different, she knew, just from the way it seemed to crackle in the air, suspended in grief and shock. The voices were what drew her near as well, as she began to leave the Medic Den late that night, the quiet murmur growing louder and louder as people joined the fray. It didn't take but a few brief seconds of thought before the panther was jogging as quickly as she could towards the source of the sound and chaos, moving as quickly as she could without launching herself straight into the fray. She still exercised caution, as she didn't know what she was about to walk into- and it was nothing good. Aleksi was facing off someone she couldn't even recognize, and though she had no concern for Aleksi himself, knowing he was a strong fighter, her gaze ultimately dropped to Imperia.


    Oh, Imperia. She did not know the feline well and for that Lottie was now impossibly sorry. She knew just by looking at her broken form on the ground that there was nothing that Lottie could have done to save her. They were, for once, too late to save her. It was a sickening feeling that gripped her heart and dragged it down, but she still exuded her calm air as she quickly ducked in between the chaos to join Imperia at her side, lowering herself to her belly to meet the dying feline eye to eye. "It's going to be alright," Lottie murmured softly, and though she was lying, her voice remained sweet as the Panther gently reached out with a delicate paw to brush Imperia's cheek in an attempt to soothe her. She wanted to almost snap at Volkan for speaking so panicked to Imperia when she obviously wasn't going to make it, but it was not her place to speak.


    Imperia looked unconscious, but it didn't prevent Lottie from soothing the young creature anyway. Automatically, she was looking over her injuries, making checklists, doing everything she would have done if she had been going to save her. Broken ribs, gashes on her sides- the bleeding would have had to been stopped, and then her sides wrapped tight to keep her rib cage from moving too much. A few weeks of rest, she might have been okay. But the injuries to her throat, crushed underneath the weight of jaws in an area so delicate- she doubted even the powers that some held would have been able to heal it. Prolong it, perhaps, but not heal it. The Medic's gaze drew back and forth between Imperia and Aleksi. She knew her duty as a Medic was to her patients, but what was to be done when she knew they would not make it? When they were already unconscious? Was it morally alright to leave her on the sidelines to assist someone still alive? Even if that someone had attacked her not even a week before?


    "Aleksi, do you need help?" She didn't want to distract the young son of Sweetopheila, knowing that he had skill in battle, which is why she risked the question in the first place. Lottie wasn't great in battle, per say, with very little practice, but her size alone could pack quite the punch when it came down to it. Yet, she could not help herself from still lingering at Imperia's side, protecting her patient even til the very end. In part, this was her fault. It was a dangerous way of thinking, but perhaps if they had been here sooner, something could have been done. But that thought she knew, deep down, was only a comfort to herself. Even if they had gotten here sooner, would it have changed Imperia's fate? Would it have done anything at all?
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    [center][fancypost=borderwidth=0px;text-align:justify;width:575px]/ lol @ me, i couldn't fall asleep so ended up replying <3


    Knowing that Benjamin Roe hardly slept was probably public knowledge by now. He was constantly plagued in his sleep by the screams of dead friends, or the images of leaving behind the alive, yet bloodied bodies. A childhood like his own had resulted in an adult who experienced trauma from the past. The wolf never really openly announced his own problems, but it could easily be guessed that something bothered him. Something kept him awake. Sleep was like a rare commodity. It was hard for him to grasp it, hold onto it — save it. Sleep was like some sort of dying patient to him, especially in the recent weeks. There was no surprise then knowing that the medic wasn't tucked away underneath blankets of his own, or besides Lorraine — no. He'd been wandering, like he normally did when the territory was blanketed in moonlight. The stars winked at him as they normally did, yet his head was far off somewhere. The occasional inhale of smoke was instinctive, thoughtless. He was, what appeared to him as, alone. For hours the only sounds had been those of the obsidian shadows, and the occasional brush of wind as it swept through the growing spring leaves and vegetation. The skinnier lupine though had stopped in his tracks as the once loud chorus of crickets silenced, and in its place, actual voices arose — immediately shattering what peace there'd been. His paws were suddenly pressing into the ground, his ears swiveling in all different directions — secretly hoping to himself that it'd just been his tired mind playing tricks. A living dream, an audible illusion. Without warning, wind was pressing him back, picking up his thicker coat and smacking the stench of blood across his face. The sticky, sweet, metallic scent of it had him convinced that this was no dream.


    There was the faint sounds of familiar clanmates, and then something — someone else. With a quick shaking of his head, as if to rid himself of whatever grogginess that'd settled over him, Benjamin had begun to lope through the night. The lit cigarette still pressed in-between his canines, the slow thumping sound of his medic equipment a constant reminder for him to move faster. He was pushing through the brush, overlooking a smaller clearing. Of course, his own pale blue eyes were immediately moving towards the injured. The wolf was letting out a slower huff of relief, as Iselotta's shape was already outlined against the silvery light of the moon. Beneath her was none other than Imperia. A girl he had seen all around. While they'd never grown to become close friends, she was kind. Careful and cautious about the world around her for reasons he didn't fully understand, but she was kind. She was loyal. She cared about others in the neutral clan. Her and Lorraine were friends, if he could call them that. He'd felt a need to watch over her, keep a special eye on her — because the wolf had felt as if the femme needed it. Someone to look after her. He'd never been in her face, but he'd observe occasionally to just check on her well-being. Now though, he felt some part of his golden, but tired heart drop.


    It was hard for him describe — in words, but at first glance Benjamin had could tell when someone was going to die. Many medics could do the same. Him and Lottie, they'd had their fair share of seeing shitty things. It built some sort of knowledge base. A library. He hated it. He'd begun to trot forwards without his brain actively telling him to do so — his neck only momentarily twisting towards Aleksei who was fighting Imperia's attacker. Imperia, though, was his concern. There were other clanmates approaching, but in reality the medic had only noticed Volkan, Iselotta — and he'd hardly been able to understand the fighting off to his side. She was unconscious. Bleeding to death. Ben was shoving off his own medic equipment for easier access, but he already fucking knew. He knew she was slipping from their grasp. It was why his co-worker had yet do to anything but comfort her. Roe though, was chewing on the stick of poison in his mouth — eyes narrowing, but softening. His head was twisting to look towards the other healer, but his head was soon turning back towards the bloodied girl, words dripping from dry parted jaws. "Shit." A pause. "Imperia." Death already was suffocating her, its scrawny, white-knuckled hands tight around her throat. This... it reminded him too much of having to leave others behind. This was the worst part of it — knowing that they were probably going to die, but not being able to do anything more. Death was when they were already gone. When they still could be healed. The medic was quickly trying to tug out a thicker bandage, and immediately, almost desperately, attempting to press it to the gushing gash upon her neck in order to ease the bleeding. Slow it, maybe. His paws and chest would soon become splattered, and soaked with that ugly —ugly maroon that'd pooled around her. He'd seen this same scene too many times now, Ben didn't want to witness it again. It made him momentarily desperate, as he was increasingly losing that steady, calm, composure. "Shit." The strained curse was repeated, yet this time it came in more of an inaudible whisper.


    to be consoled as to console — 05/11