Duck Bite (open)

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  • Prior to the prosthetic



    Well you've been watching what ya think you like but I know what you don't


    The dingo laid there on his side, inspecting the stump of his torn off paw, resting until his ribs healed. Mike was terribly bored, wanting to do something. He stood, stretching gently to not pop his stitches either. The stubborn male went outside, hobbling on three legs towards common area, the heat from the sand making the dingo pant, his ribs acting up, slowing him. "Agh..." grunts Mike, feeling a little dizzy. This was not going to stop him. Not this.


    You think it's all just playing fun and games, you treat it like a joke,


    He closed his eyes, thinking about his recent childhood, his big brother disappearing, all of it. One memory stuck with him, when he broke his leg playing around. He cried, cried for hours, and he felt weak. Mike felt small. But that wasnt his case anymore. The dingo hobbled faster, trying to find Hypokrisis or the Medic, but he slowed again, coughing, making the young dingo, who was almost a pup, just a month or two older, look like an elder.


    Some people say they wanna be me,

    This life can be real deceiving,

    It's just your state of mind,

    Some people say they wanna be me,

    This life can be real deceiving,

    It's just come crashing down,

    You better watch what you say,

    You might get what your asking for one day,

    He was tired, so mike sat at the large bolder, sleep calling him gently. The dingo wasnt dying, no, he was taking a nap on his way to find a doctor. "Ill just take a..." he began, dozing off under the sun, his stitching opened accidentally when he laid down. Blood stained the sand barely but it was noticable, his breathing was shallow on account of his ribs. He looked like hell. Felt even worse. Mike needed a doctor.


    Some people say they wanna be me,

    This life can be real deceiving,

    It's just come crashing down,

    (Where's your fucking backup now?)


    Michael, ex-Executor (Cartel HP), member of the Cartel, Sanguine Ruins, one of two Praetors of the Dark Dynasty, the Sanctuary and the Frontier.

    Black and blue wolf (main body), combat difficulty; Hard, Attack

    A Creative Pun Title || Michael's Tags



    And some aces up your sleeve
    I had no idea that you're in deep
    I dreamt about you near me every night this week
    How many secrets can you keep'
    'Cause there's this tune I found that makes me think of you somehow
    When I play it on repeat
    Until I fall asleep

  • ††† ― The cambion drifted in a half sleep, one eye partially open as he rested in the shadow of a palm tree. A collection of books surrounded his forepaws, some of the them open to the air with their secrets revealed. Pictures drawn in ancient ink or stories of long forgotten pasts. Dante had been doing some research and recording his findings in a journal, but the inkwell resting on an open page was dry and his writing tool lay forgotten. It was apparent the feline had been asleep for some time - an unusual occurrence for any who knew him. Perhaps that was why he had been left undisturbed for so long, the activity of the camp going on around him as the sun stretched it's long rays. It wasn't until the scent of blood began the make it's way into his dreams that sleep began to slip away. Slowly his black eyes began to focus and the cambion lifted his head with a soft snort.


    Something felt off and he quickly began searching the small crowd of activity for any sign of the scent that had disturbed his thoughts. Eventually his gaze fell on the outline of a dingo cast in the shadow of a bolder. Unnoticed as he had been by the few ruiners that passed between the pyramids, Dante could only assume the canine hadn't been lying there for very long. Getting to his paws and ignoring his research, the large male bounded through the undergrowth of the oasis to get to his ailing clan member. Dipping his head to examine the leaking injury the scent of copper hit the back of his throat and made the demon in him smile. The mortal in him however, was less then pleased. Attempting to slow the blood flow, Dante flicked his tail at the closet passing npc and with a tone that booked no room for negotiation he murmured, "run and get a healer." He could attempt to fix the injury himself - he certainly had some knowledge, but most of it had been gained through practice on his own body. The least he could do was stem the blood flow and wait for someone who had the proper training.

    DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND I GOT A PLAN FOR US.

    I BET YOU DIDN'T KNOW THAT I WAS DANGEROUS.

    Cambion Warrior — Biography — Obsessing


  • 'CAUSE IF I LET HIM OUT HE’LL TEAR ME UP, BREAK ME DOWN !

    female - 12 moons - single - first tier - sanguine ruins - tags


    Was she a healer? No. But she could damn well try her best. Running forward, she felt a sudden pain hit her head. Wincing as herb names crashed around in her mind. Her eyes closed, and she shivered. The female stumbled and then shook the pain back. She would have to figure out where she knew that information from later. Scampering closer, she lowered her head to assess the damage. Looking up at Dante, she frowned and then turned back to Mike. Reaching out wi5 a paw, she would conjure a satchel. Another pain hitting her head and she stumbled. A pained look in her hollow optics.


    Stepping closer, fighting her own pain, she opened the bag and reached towards the contents. First, was some rags and clean water. This she used to clean the wounds that had opened. She pulled up a needle and surgical thread. Eyes flashing with more pain as she lurched forward. Why did she know what to do? She would duck down, threading the needle before taking it in her maw. Cleaning it with some alcohol from in the bag, she would step forward and start stitching the wounds. Her motions oddly steady and calm as she did her best to save the male.


    thinking | ‘writing’ | “speaking


    HOLD ME AND LOVE ME

    JUST WANNA TOUCH YOU FOR A MINUTE

  • as utterly strange as it may have been, the creature forged of ivory and gold had learned to distinguish scents of fresh blood from that of ancient crimson staining long-rotted corpses in death's pungent perfume upon the borders. a distinct form of skill in which could not be taught but more simply picked up along the way of extensive healing experience. it was one of grotesque taste, not nearly as disturbing as the visage of a god spitting gold and fury, but it did bring about rising eyebrows and tight, line drawn lips. even still, it was a very useful skill- especially when it came to the ruins.


    hypokrisis steps forth, having been summoned by his own will and an urgent need of a medic. he was still just a martyr playing king, in the end. a grand concern dripped forth in all aspects as strides came swift and gracious. micheal's injury was horrendous, but he was trained, or rather trained himself amongst chaos writhed battle fields of hellish account, to stay calm beneath such horrendous pressures far worse than this. and so he moves swift, with dictation- especially for such a ruined thing. "Michael, eat this," hypokrisis instructed, gentle but firm within dictation as he present chamomile to the other. dante had done well to stave the bleeding, but only so much could be done. hypokrisis huffed a quivering breath in contemplatioon, brow furrowed. two healers in the clan, and neither present. "Dante- could you help in bringing Micheal to the medicine den? There's only so much we can do for a wound so severe in the open," hypokrisis inquired, inventive as stardipepd gaze came to rest upon the ever grave demon before him.

  • Mike only nodded, lacking the energy to do much else. The sand clung to him, his black fur now a tan and crimson mixture of gore. Laying there, he halfheartedly chewed it into a fine paste before letting it slide down his throat. "Am... Am I g-gonna d-die?" the kid asked with tears pricking his eyes, threatening to fall.



    mobile

    Michael, ex-Executor (Cartel HP), member of the Cartel, Sanguine Ruins, one of two Praetors of the Dark Dynasty, the Sanctuary and the Frontier.

    Black and blue wolf (main body), combat difficulty; Hard, Attack

    A Creative Pun Title || Michael's Tags



    And some aces up your sleeve
    I had no idea that you're in deep
    I dreamt about you near me every night this week
    How many secrets can you keep'
    'Cause there's this tune I found that makes me think of you somehow
    When I play it on repeat
    Until I fall asleep

  • ††† ― "You're not going to die child," the cambion rasped, before ink filled gaze turned brilliant and with a measured step backwards he would attempt to lift the canine through telekinesis. His demon blood thrummed in his veins and to the viewer it would appear as though his skin came alive. The fur bubbling and rippling as if something sought to break free from it's fleshy prison. The alabaster male would keep a tight hold on the reins that governed his mental state. The use of such powers always came with enormous cost and it usually resulted in his demon side throwing itself to the forefront of his mind for weeks to come. But Hypokrisis needed Michael moved and Dante couldn't refuse when he had the means to help.


    Michael would find himself weightless as Dante shifted carefully around Always Dead and Hypokrisis, and levitated the canine's broken form towards one of the pyramids. Always Dead had done a good job of helping to stem the blood flow but Dante could see the glimmer of red dripping from her nose. She'd over exerted herself. As they passed beneath the entrance archway, eyes turned in their direction - curiosity in their faces as voices began to raise in question. Dante ignored all of these as he followed any directions Hypokrisis would give and eventually set the canine down somewhere quieter. He released his telekinetic hold with a small intact of breath, the power snapping back to him like an eager puppy. His eyes returned to ink once more as the cambion worked to repress his powers, turning slightly to the side so Michael wouldn't be able to see the pain in his face. "He's all yours," he drawled to Hypokrisis, the skin around his face still twitching slightly.

    DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND I GOT A PLAN FOR US.

    I BET YOU DIDN'T KNOW THAT I WAS DANGEROUS.

    Cambion Warrior — Biography — Obsessing


  • 'CAUSE IF I LET HIM OUT HE’LL TEAR ME UP, BREAK ME DOWN !

    female - 12 moons - single - first tier - sanguine ruins - tags


    Always did her best and was now just weak. She didn’t even bother hiding her pain as she trailed after them. Blood dripping into the sand as she moved along. Soon, she was laying near Mike and Dante. Eyes on the male. Worry in her dead eyes.


    thinking | ‘writing’ | “speaking


    HOLD ME AND LOVE ME

    JUST WANNA TOUCH YOU FOR A MINUTE