Posts by ?NDERS.

[fancypost borderwidth=0px; text-align: justify; font-family; font-size: 8pt]Ooh, look at this. Was this the sad one of the bunch? The serious, heartless one? He'd never really met many of those ... his life has been one of mostly warmth, or if not warmth, then burning. His parents and siblings, Cullen, Amber; plenty of nice faces, ones that had ... shaped him. He'd never really been treated with such ice, unless Templars counted, but they weren't really-

Like a blow to the head, pain flashed behind his eyes, and Anders squeezed his eyes shut, before blinking open and fixing Russia with a purposely frivolous stare. " Oh, I would, but I wouldn't want to wreck my pretty voice, now, would I? " came his glib remark. " I am Anders. Pleased to meet you, my dear lady. "

(hiiiiii!!)
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[fancypost borderwidth=0px; text-align: justify; font-family; font-size: 8pt]" People unwillingly handcuffed to things? Ah, yes, smells like my childhood. Or my teenage period. Or parts of my adulthood. " he inhaled, then exhaled in a nostalgic sigh, though the lack of seriousness was to be noted. Did he miss that life? No, not at all; he liked to fantasise about ripping his captors apart, actually, but that was by the by. Anders made his way over, leisurely, his eyes flitting between Bucky and Elizabeth, though he wasn't sure what he was meant to do. Now, if his magic worked ... he might have been able to do something. But it had disappeared again, and, well ... Anders wasn't sure what to do, now.

" Cheer up, though. It's not all bad! Some people like being handcuffed. Maybe it's ... for show. " he said this with a funny little smile, eyes boyish and playful.
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[fancypost borderwidth=0px; text-align: justify; font-family; font-size: 8pt]Anders was more of a dancer than a singer, but ... each to their own, and the world needed singers for the dancers to dance to, right? He was drawn in by the sound of singing because singing was rare, to him, still novel - his life had been without music for a long time, and what little he heard was short and infrequent. Thus, at any opportunity, he would come to listen and expand his knowledge on the verbal art. It was ... often moving, to say in the least. This was more interesting than heart-wrenching, though; it was nicer than the depressive wails he'd heard before.

" You're going to have to show me how to do that with my voice, " Anders said, accompanied by a whistle of appreciation. He sat back, clapping his paws. " As beautiful as I sound, I need some training to unleash my inner popstar. I'll serenade the masses like a siren. "
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[fancypost borderwidth=0px; text-align: justify; font-family; font-size: 8pt]Even before Anders was Anders, he'd never had a clan name. His parents hadn't, nor had his siblings - clan names were still odd to him, in fact. Save for a single female, the few he trusted had all had names like his, and those he hadn't trusted had, too. He'd never really met many clan-named people, but he supposed that their culture meant something, too, and he wasn't against it. He liked the idea of the suffix changing to express little milestones in the life. It was cute, but he'd never had it.

" So you're a big girl, now? " Anders spoke in a good-natured tone as he approached, eyebrows raising.
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[fancypost borderwidth=0px; text-align: justify; font-family; font-size: 8pt]Was there something he was missing? Love was ... a fickle business, one Anders didn't regret, but worried about. Constantly. He'd loved before ... a few times, in fact, unofficially, dalliances and whatnot, but he was still afraid of it slipping out of his grasp. He found it ... hard to believe that ... love still existed. With him. For him. It was different, different to the old love, but still ... love.

Anders wiped this from his mind, amazed at how a simple word sent his mind spiralling, and he made his way over, showing no signs of the emotion he'd felt before. " One day, you'll show me how to do that. " he said with a charming smirk. He'd sing one day, he'd make sure of it.
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[fancypost borderwidth=0px; text-align: justify; font-family; font-size: 8pt]" Whatever you did, I bet I've seen worse. " Anders chortled at the thought, as dark as his mind was at those words, and he approached, raising his brows at her. " Though ... I would have gone for flowers. Or a nice card. Maybe some fruit. A knitted jumper. Toy cars? Not my first choice, but ... How about red? Or blue. Or green. I'm not really a particular person when it comes to colours- unless it's beige. " he shuddered melodramatically at the notion of beige.
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[fancypost borderwidth=0px; text-align: justify; font-family; font-size: 8pt]Tired, hazel-blue eyes blinked open, and immediately, Anders tensed at the punches, before forcing himself to relax; seizing up made contact hurt more, didn't it? He was ... used to this, funnily enough. Anders was used to it because of the Templars, and he was more than acquainted with agony. They were like ... friends with benefits. There was no love between them, but sometimes, pain liked to fuck Anders. Hard. And it hurt, as you'd expect.

So this was ... normal. To a degree. The red tabby glanced to Leonidas, forcing composure. " And what are we going to do, hmm? Tie me up? Hit me around? Pass me to your bigger, badder friends and let them beat me, too? Am I a personal punching bag, now? " he asked sarcastically, claws already unsheathed and digging into the ground.
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[fancypost borderwidth=0px; text-align: justify; font-family; font-size: 8pt]" What a shame- " Anders began, and then his jaws snapped shut, suddenly, tongue pressing against the roof of his mouth to stem the shriek that would have escaped otherwise as claws snagged one of his eyes, his eyes, and ripped it out of the socket in one, clean go.

Shit. He wanted to howl out, but wouldn't give the Exiler the satisfaction. The Templars were worse, he told himself. The Circle was far worse than this.

" That all you got, you bastard? " Anders spat, claws flexing, his body moving instinctively to shield the other side of his face. Now he couldn't see Leonidas, but that was better than not being able to see at all, right? He'd done that before. He didn't want it again.
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[fancypost borderwidth=0px; text-align: justify; font-family; font-size: 8pt]A little dumbfounded, Anders released a low, shrill whistle. Well, that was ... " Shit, " he managed, staring between the trio and then heading in Mist's direction. " Want me to walk you to your house? That's ... I'm so sorry. " Russia didn't deserve her after this. Not only had she had an affair, but she'd chosen to cover it up with rape? Ouch.
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[fancypost borderwidth=0px; text-align: justify; font-family; font-size: 8pt]Anders glanced at her and nodded, pressing close, a sort of anchor. " Hey, it's alright. It'll get better! You'll find someone better. Someone who doesn't treat you like a toy. Now, come on. Did I hear you mention Amaro? "
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[fancypost borderwidth=0px; text-align: justify; font-family; font-size: 8pt]" Not the nicest girl. She reeked of demon. " Anders remarked, coming up beside Mistdream and tossing an arm around her, eyes narrowing on Russia despite his cheerful tone. " You deserve better than that. Heck, I bet BoneClan does, too. Never mind. Each to their own, I suppose. Even scum like that. "
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[fancypost borderwidth=0px; text-align: justify; font-family; font-size: 8pt]" It's just ... not me. " not any more. Anders flashed Steve a baffled smile, and shrugged a single shoulder. " And it's so ... Bland, you know? It needs a little more life to it. " was that not a plausible explanation for his dislike of beige? It was lacklustre, dim and uninteresting; there was nothing to draw people into beige, unless, perhaps, other browns were used to create a sort of homely, cosy atmosphere, and even then, he wasn't a big fan of that. Blue, maybe, sure- or blue and beige? Would that make beige ... desirable?

Now he was thinking for thinking's sake. Anders shook himself from his thoughts and glanced back towards Impala, eyes occasionally skittering to Steve, in case he'd offended the male. Did Steve like beige? Maybe beige was his favourite colour. That ... was an odd notion, admittedly, but each to their own.
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[fancypost borderwidth=0px; text-align: justify; font-family; font-size: 8pt]Another baby Nos, hmm? So many! Anders was unaware at present, of course, but that hardly mattered; the male approached, tail swishing behind him, his expression cheerful. " Name and business? " he asked, head tilting. Was it a joiner, a visitor, someone with a message? One never knew, these days.
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[fancypost borderwidth=0px; text-align: justify; font-family; font-size: 8pt]Anders was, luckily, over in a jiffy; he'd recently regained his precious staff (or a staff, at least), and thus scrambled over with it in his jaws, eventually coming to a standstill beside the kelpie, eyes on the retreating snake for a moment, before eventually turning to the panicked boy. He hadn't seen it well, so- " Alright, calm down. I'm going to help stop the bleeding and check to see if that snake was venomous, okay? Let me see the wound. " he muttered, a little exasperated, and he reached out to try and touch at the bite, already aiming to search it with wound transfer enough to check for poison.
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[fancypost borderwidth=0px; text-align: justify; font-family; font-size: 8pt]" It'd be pretty awkward if I didn't know my husband, but ... yes, he's here! " Anders confirmed, glancing sideways to Clementine as she approached. " That's a lot of last names you've got, there. " well, technically, he had three, too. Fenrir-Vida-Gabriel, but he'd ... kind of tucked away the former two for later.
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[fancypost borderwidth=0px; text-align: justify; font-family; font-size: 8pt](aye this is after the exiles thing lmao)

Anders was back in SunClan ... right? Everything was a bit of a blur, the right side of his vision completely black, as Leonidas had ripped out the eye, and the other side was streaked with cloud, his head having been beaten so much that everything spun. He was alive, though, despite his mind having been practically cracked open and stamped on in an intricate mental torture session; he'd seen terrifying things whilst the world had been ensnared in his own personal nightmare. Anders didn't want to live them - or, relive them, for his nightmares were mostly accounts from his past, with only a smattering of future concerns - at all, but couldn't seem to abolish them from his mind.

People had died before his eye. He knew it. He'd seen it. With his one eye.

Anders had bandaged the eye - or, rather, lack of eye - to hide it from view, and moved hesitantly, because every time he rose, his head throbbed; thus, he was let creeping around like a thief, searching, slowly, for Nosferatu.
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[fancypost borderwidth=0px; text-align: justify; font-family; font-size: 8pt]Anders had never lost a body part before; he'd been blind, once, but his eyes had been intact. To actually lose a body part? It was ... daunting, and he hadn't ever thought that it'd happen to him. He couldn't even remember how Leonidas had gotten ahold of him, never mind how he'd escaped. He just remembered the brief period between - the actual torture. It had been ... Anders had thought that Justice was gone. Or ... dormant. He'd not been there, anyway. But that torture? It had flicked a switch, and Justice had burst through, pushing at the seams of Anders' very physical form, lighting him with Veilfire and saving his life, most likely.

Nobody else had come, but that was okay. Justice had been there.

The man turned weakly at the voice, and aimed to press himself against Nosferatu, his single remaining eye squeezing shut. " You ... lived there, once. " he managed to choke out, the realisation settling in the pit of his stomach. " And ... I saw you die. " his voice was distressed, disbelieving. " How did you ... how did you do it? Live there? With them? Nos, they're monsters, they're- " even some Templars had been tolerable? That? That had not been tolerable.
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[fancypost borderwidth=0px; text-align: justify; font-family; font-size: 8pt]Anders released a shaky breath again, trying to collect his muddled thoughts. Nos. Nos had done worse than the Exilers, but he couldn't hurt those he loved. Nos. Nos had hurt people. He knew that this was an inevitable fact - everybody hurt other people at one point in their life (and he himself was a murderer) - but he couldn't seem to process it. His brain had short circuited; his head hurt. He needed ... a drink. Or ten. The idea of further moral evil seemed to shake him to the core.

" Called himself ... Leonidas, he ... Demon. Smelled it. Bill's son? " he guessed vaguely, remaining pressed close against Nosferatu. " Don't want to ... talk about it. I'm ... a healer. I can deal with this. I can patch myself up. 'm fine. " physical pain was easy to undo, but mental trauma? He wasn't sure if he could eradicate the scars. " ... Saw you die. Wasn't even .. wasn't even bloody. No blood. You just ... died. Wasn't physical. Couldn't heal it. Tried. Didn't work. " he mumbled into Nosferatu's fur, trying to convey his jumbled monologue. He had tried to save Nos, in his mind. He ... he'd failed.
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[fancypost borderwidth=0px; text-align: justify; font-family; font-size: 8pt]A walking dead man.

He'd seen those before, though, had he not? They were Wardens.
And he was a Warden. He ... Hadn't told Nosferatu that much, having kept it all a secret, hiding the truth from everybody because of its complexity. He didn't want to have to explain that much, anyhow. Perhaps his secrecy stemmed from a terror - there was a stigma surrounding Wardens, and he didn't want to have that stigma applied to himself. He would rather pretend that he wasn't an ... ex-Warden, as he was, having fled the order for some reasons that were entirely personal, entirely jumbled, and entirely to do with the male he pressed himself to.

Immortality was a gift Anders had never wished for. Sometimes, he wished dead meant dead.

" You don't have to help me, Nos. I'm fine. " he croaked weakly. " A few ... poultices to stop the infection, and I'll be fine. " he assured, before falling silent for a few moments. " Though ... a bath sounds nice. Wonder if the houses have baths. " his body was cold and aching, and the last he needed was to continue feeling like he was permanently caked in a layer of grime, yes?

' I'm here, just relax. I'm not going to ever leave you. '

Anders exhaled shakily. " ... Good. " he breathed, before perking up at the idea of a retry at the wedding. " Yeah, I ... Yeah, I want to try that. " maybe he'd actually fucking show up, this time.
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[fancypost borderwidth=0px; text-align: justify; font-family; font-size: 8pt]" Nos ...? "

Anders still looked - and felt - like utter shit, but seemed to come to life on seeing the puncture wounds inflicted by his husband's own claws, his steps brisker than they'd been in days as he hurried to Nosferatu's side. As small as the cuts looked to be, he knew how much worse they could potentially get, and didn't want to risk it.

" Nos, love, let me look. They- they're right. They could get infected. " he spoke, his brows knitting in a frown.
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