Possess That Special Feature (Scath)

[Tsunami]

[bg=666666][atrb=width,400,true][atrb=background,http://i450.photobucket.com/albums/qq227/Pideaux/RPG/Tsunami/t1.jpg] Why did it seem that ever since the fae had entered upon these lands that complete boredom had overtaken her existence? The Rottweiler had everything she thought she had ever wanted. She had worked hard on her brother to get to this exact place. Convinced him to murder his precious humans from a lie. One that had been planted years earlier and had grown into a blood red beauty. Unfortunately for Tsunami, she quickly figured out that not all canines on the island were as easy to manipulate as Typhoon was. The poor stupid brute was too naive for his own good. Now the queen had taken Tsunamis lifes work right out from under her. This made her blood boil and a low growl rumbled around in her chest to show the physical part of her disapproval. Although Tsunami would tell you in an instant that she wasn't jealous, and she would honestly believe it to be true, in the end all of her rage did stem from jealousy. She by no means loved her brother but he offered the type of attention she craved. He had done everything for her and as often as she manipulated and lied to him, he was still someone she could talk to seriously without fear of rejection. Tsunami cared deeply what others thought of her. Males, she wanted them to see her as a hot commodity. Females, she wanted them to fear, dislike and be jealous of her. The feeling she received when other faes gave her that particular 'you're a bitch' look forced a satisfied smirk to appear on her maw. Alas, now she was simply laying in the caves where the Metnal members came to rest or raise their young. Her back legs were sprawled out to one side and her front were making themselves useful as a pillow for her large framed skull. Round, almost orange optics were slitted, trying to force herself into a state of sleep to pass the time. A deep oncoming sigh forced her chest to rise and quickly fall as the warm air escaped her nostrils, shooting small specks of snot out to the ground below. Her heart ached for something but she couldn't force her lazy mind to interpret anything more than the way the dust moved in front of her nose with each breath.

[Scáth]

[bg=100000][atrb=border,0,table][atrb=width,450,table][color= Lonliness. Sorrow. Heartache. Just who came up with these emotions, anyway? Whoever they were, they hadn't inserted them into Scáth's genetic makeup. Supposedly. The Dutch Shepherd was enjoying one of his many hours of free time - well, not technically free as he had the role of warrior in Metnal - but in all honesty, who expected a cripple to make a good patroller or hunter? His packmates didn't. Erida was the only individual who knew of the black-brindle's cunning, calculative nature, his multiple masks and facades, and even she couldn't 'persuade' him into pulling his weight half the time; mostly because as the Metnal queen, she had plenty of other... Duties to attend to that were righteously deemed more important than a single lazy warrior. Scáth's lips curled up in amusement at the thought. He was currently headed to the caves that Metnal called home - but he didn't, as he usually chose to sleep elsewhere - , walking with his habitual limp over the rugged terrain, a dark stain against the relatively light, blue sky. Like a stain, Scáth's presence was usually unwelcomed by other Metnals. Not because he was weak or inferior, but because he was... Scáth. The Dutch Shepherd carried that strange, sinister cheerfulness wherever he went, amoral and apathetic when it came even to his own packmates, and shockingly experienced in battle. When he was avoided - and he was often avoided - it was because he was feared. Feared by his own packmates. Feared by the most menacing pack of brutes on the island. That said a lot about Scáth. It was ironic, really, considering he was perhaps the only member of the pack besides the naive, gullible rottweiller mutt that had liked humans. He was the only member who'd had a family with them, who'd had a brief period of happiness that had never been expected to last. Scáth had long-since accepted the fact that happiness was fleeting, few and far between, especially for twisted wretches like himself. The Dutch Shepherd was so used to his dark lifestyle that the disgust, the hatred and the horror associated with what he supposedly stood for didn't even bother him any more. Because just as he'd been the only Metnal member who hadn't taken part in the massacre, Scath was also the only Metnal member who'd had such emotions sent his way long before it. He was unlucky to have around, a seemingly useless yet inevitably dangerous companion. The black-brindle certainly wasn't one you'd expect to have many friends, if any at all. He operated alone, did his own thing, and others kept out of his way. Yet somehow, unbelievably, the scarred, amoral canine was one of Erida's chosen favourites. He had been the one she'd assigned to tail Typhoon, and he was the one who could get away with far more than any dog would dream of in her presence. It was an utter enigma as to how he'd managed it, but Scáth held a fairly high position in the Metnal pack. Not that he ever exercised his authority; he didn't exactly need to, with his reputation. At last the caves loomed up before him, strangely welcoming despite the array of distinct canine odours that hung in the air around it; Scáth relished the feel of the cool shade they offered after the burning, relentless heat of the sun on his back. His quiet panting and the muffled thuds of his pawsteps were, at first, the only sounds to bounce softly off the walls and echo back to him, but then the clear sound of a deep, feminine sigh drifted to his ears. Scáth snapped to attention, his burgundy gaze curious rather than wary, turning his sharp muzzle in the direction of the canine it came from. There, farther in and partially shielded by the gloom, was a rottweiller bitch lying down, head on her paws as if waiting for sleep to take her up in its seductive arms. Scáth tilted his head to the side, his customary crooked grin stealing up and expertly manipulating his lips into their twisted position of parodied friendliness, and padded over. He recognised this one - how could he not? - because he'd been stalking her sibling since he came into Metnal. Though they'd never actually exchanged words or even met face to face, the Dutch Shepherd had caught glimpses and knew her reputation. He stopped just out of biting distance, sinking back onto his haunches in a casual movement, the tip of his 'bad' paw resting lightly against the ground. ""Indulging in some alone time, rosebud?""

[Tsunami]

[bg=666666][atrb=width,400,true][atrb=background,http://i450.photobucket.com/albums/qq227/Pideaux/RPG/Tsunami/t1.jpg] The black and rust beast heard the footfalls coming her way. Smelled the distinctive scent of a male canine overpowering the lingering ones of canines long gone. But she was nearly asleep, and all of it seemed almost dreamlike, nothing to be worried about. It wasn't until the Dutch Shepard spoke that she was awakened from her half slumber. In normal circumstances, if the Shepard had spooked her, she would have snapped unexpectedly before a look of true embarrassment washed over her features. In this case, though, her mind was too far gone to have such reactions. A large lazy head rose itself from it's downed position and faced the brindle and black dog. She stared at him for a long moment, the sags under her eyes exposing the pink flesh under her lids, making her short shallow sleep obvious, before her mind decided to catch up with itself and restore. The Rottweiler blinked her drying eyes rapidly before furrowing her brows, a slight frown touching her features. Normally she would be all over a male, sucking up for attention and praise, but looking this mutt over once she quickly decided that it wasn't worth the effort. Even the most manipulative bitch had her boundaries. When it came down to it, this fae was quite shallow. She didn't look beyond this brutes overall looks and the way he held his obviously crippled leg. No thoughts crossed her mind that hidden within his hideous form, there might be something special. No, this bitch had no interest in inward appearances. Mostly because in the end, hers were as disgusting looking as the brutes physical appearances. "I was", she growled at him, a snarl appearing on her face for a split second before she moved her head away from the Shepard and rested it back on her paws. A badly disguised pout crossed her entire demeanor. "What do you want anyway? I'm not interested, just so you know." Even though the statement was quite general, she figured that they both knew what she was speaking of. Her reputation for seeking males attention and admiration was quite well known throughout the pack but in her mind, her reputation for being a beautiful fae whom males sought out themselves was very well known. Ah, to be so self centered.

[Nebulous]

[bg=100000][atrb=border,0,table][atrb=width,450,table] The sight of the Rottweiler bitch slowly rousing from her light slumber was comical; at least, to him. Scáth's lips twitched uncontrollably as he fought the maniacal laughter that came from having a naturally twisted sense of humor and from being in isolation for the last 72 hours. The slight frown, the rapidly blinking eyes, then the quick appraisal that deemed him not worth her time just as quickly. Yup, this was Tsunami in the flesh. Scath chuckled at her growled words, a deep and raspy sound that sent shivers down one's spine, his burgundy gaze both amused and appraising. If he'd looked sinister before, now he was the definition of it. This was the new bitch, the beauty who flirted and manipulated all males within her reach. It was entirely unsurprising - and extremely amusing - that she had drawn a line upon meeting the Dutch Shepherd. Not that Scáth cared; he had never been one to be interested in that kind of company. "You really are a shallow, manipulative little thing, aren't ya rosebud? I don't doubt that no bitch would consider me anywhere near the stereotypical image of their Prince Charming, and that sits just fine with me. I'm Bugsy around here, not Romeo. That's why sunshine's got me stalking your naive little brother henever he's not fawning over her." Scáth grinned at her, tongue lolling casually out to one side as his dark pelt slowly cooled. 'Bugsy' described Scáth quite well. He truly was the one who others crossed the road to avoid, the one who no one wanted to see lose his temper. And that kind of reputation, subtle as it was, was very impressive in a pack like Metnal. Impressive, as well as ironic, seeing as he was not naturally violent or aggressive like some ill-tempered, patriotic brutes that were his packmates. No, Scáth just held no aversion to the more visceral side of things. He got the job done, swiftly and without a hitch, whenever Erida ordered him to do so. It was just a matter of whether he followed those orders to the letter.

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[Tsunami]

[bg=666666][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,false][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,400,true][atrb=background,http://i450.photobucket.com/albums/qq227/Pideaux/RPG/Tsunami/tsu2-1.jpg] The fragile female Rottweiler had it set in her mind that she would now be ignoring the Shepard. He had nothing of interest to her. Everything she based anything on directly dealt with physical appearances. She had no need to consider anything deeper. So what could this Metnal warrior offer her? Food? Not likely. He walked with a limp. Self respect? With a face like that?... forget it. Love? She wouldn't be caught dead with him. The only thing the black and rust beast could really think of what that she had seen him with Erida a few times. It was just a fleeting thought within her skull until she retraced it. Erida. She never casually talked or walked with any body. An idea. A slow smirk appeared on her face, though the Shepard would not see it, her head was still down and facing away from the brute. Until.. His first words hit her auds, her head reeled around to face him while he finished. Her eyes were wide, ears perked and her jaw nearly dropped from the drama-induced shock. She sat there for a moment with the dramatized face, which was surely hilarious to the Metnal brute, before she rose from her position, charging and barking harshly at him. "How dare you insult me like that! You know nothing about me you filthy mangy mutt. I've never heard such pretentious crap come from anyone. On top of that, my brother, as mindless as he is, deserves much better than that hideous wench." A deep breath was sucked in through her mouth and blown out of her nose as she tried to calm herself. Her eyes were still focused on the Dutch Shepard, a look of pure disgust filling them. Not from his looks now, but from his words. How dare he call her out like that. Tsunami believed none of the words that flowed from his maw, but in reality, every single one was spoken in truth. Her nose went up in the air and one large paw went up in the air as daintily as she could force it to raise before she swiftly turned her back to the Metnal warrior. Nose still raised along with her brows, she simply glance at him over her shoulder. Now more relaxed, her feminine appearances returned once again. "You should learn how to treat a lady with respect", she huffed at him.

[Scáth]

[bg=100000][atrb=border,0,table][atrb=width,450,table] Hah. Whoever said scars attracted the ladies had been dead wrong; or, at least, had not accounted for as many scars as Scáth had. Though the habitual limping didn't help, nor did his dark reputation, Scáth was still the definition of the 'tall, dark stranger' that females so aclaimedly adored. The Dutch Shepherd found it all very amusing. The unjustified isolation didn't sting him like it stung other males his age, though, and the instinctual yearnings for love had long ago been squashed, surpressed. Because Scáth knew his life, however long or short it might be, no longer had a chance of a happy ending. His presence had, inadvertently, hurt the ones he'd loved since birth, and since the Extermination he no longer had the will or the motivation to forge such bonds again. Consciously, anyway. Scáth barked out a laugh, maniacal and uncontrollably frightening, at the sight of the bitch's face as his words sunk in. Her own harsh words went unheeded, though not ignored; the Dutch Shepherd may not tend respond to others, but he was a very good listener. He didn't flinch at her melodramatic anger, nor did her disgust-filled eyes affect him. The black-brindle was used to such eyes. He'd lived with them for years, passed them on the street, killed them and fought alongside them. The lack of disgust would be more of a surprise to the black-brindle at this point. "You should learn how to treat a lady with respect," Scáth cocked his head, mildly interested at the huffed phrase, his crooked grin being replaced with a parody of thoughtfulness as he took in her paused posture. "Sunshine doesn't seem to mind my company as it is... Nonetheless, I'll learn if you'll teach, rosebud. My hours are empty enough at the moment." The Dutch Shepherd chuckled again, more quietly this time. His burgundy eyes glinted in the gloom, his words verging on a challenge. His supposed ugliness aside, Scáth was a very useful asset to be seen with in public. No Metnal member would dare mess with the black-brindle, and he was one of the few in Erida's circle of more trusted despite his unpredictable, amoral nature. As for what Scáth would gain? Apart from some insight into 'ladies'' behaviour, the Dutch Shepherd would receive entertainment, and that was what he was really interested in.

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[Tsunami]

[bg=666666][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,false][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,400,true][atrb=background,http://i450.photobucket.com/albums/qq227/Pideaux/RPG/Tsunami/tsu2-1.jpg] The female Rottweiler stayed in her huffed state even after the Shepard finished speaking. At first, she thought of why would she even bother wasting her time on a lost cause. But then a simple flicker of truth came about in her mind. Normally, Tsunami brushed off anything that wasn't right in her. Her constant need for attention wasn't an ailment. It was there because she deserved it. The raging, vicious thoughts of other faes had nothing to do with jealousy. All females were idiots. Ugly. Wrong. Undeserving of anything she wanted. The flicker of truth? She needed something to do. The anger boiling just under her skin had steadily been getting worse since she arrived in the lands. Having something... or someone to focus on could only help her control other aspects of her life. It had in the past, afterall. Her brows were still raised, light brown eyes shifted slowly back towards the scarred Shepard, still looking slightly over her shoulder. She looked him up and down once, slowly. Considering his suggestion. Considering if it would be worth it. Considering nothing at all. Only giving the impression of consideration. "Well..", she sighed. Her large form stood and walked a wide half circle, eyes considering the ground now, until she was facing the brute. A deep sigh rolled from her chest, her eyes shooting upwards, rolling. "... It would be tough." She paused long enough to give the Shepard a once over one more time, giving him an unimpressed smirk. "Really. Tough. But if you're trying to impress that sunshine of yours, you might as well give it up. Nothing could make that stupid whore happy. Unless, of course, you have beautiful genes such as mine. Obviously." A large grin formed on her face, her chest pushed out a little, if she had the features, she might have shook her hair in a proud manner as a human would. She was speaking more on her brothers behalf, but they shared the same genes, no? "But stick with me and we'll have you pulling off the charm with your tall dark and .... handsome.", her pause to the final word couldn't have been more obvious.

[Scáth]

[bg=100000][atrb=border,0,table][atrb=width,450,table] Scáth tilted his head slightly to one side, observing the bitch's facade of careful consideration with that twistedly mirthful crooked grin pulling at his lips. He'd been right in his impulsive decision; the Rottweiler was almost as entertaining as Erida's dark, manipulative dabbling at motherhood. The Dutch Shepherd had found the latter situation priceless until his leader had snarled and snapped at him to find something useful to do - probably his unreadable, unrelenting stare at her newest recruits had begun to disturb and irritate her, for the Dutch Shepherd was more unpredictable than most and certainly was not the safest dog to have around a litter - and he was satisfied that being tutored by this bitch would be more 'useful' than his usual inconsistant wanderings. It was always pleasant to try new things. The Dutch Shepherd watched with some amusement as Tsunami looked up up and down, slowly and deliberately. If one took away the scars, the habitual limp, the sinister crooked grin, the gleeful, half-crazed burgundy eyes... Scáth was quite the alluring stranger. Tall, lean, fit and well-muscled, he was pure Dutch Shepherd, his physique and overall build the perfect representation of his breed standard. Large paws, a strong jaw, sloping hindquarters and firm, straight legs showed a pedigree rivalling Tsunami's own; this was a powerful, sharp working dog, and a force to be reckoned with as the scars that littered his coat indicated. His limp was a deceptive habit, that could be corrected and controlled. He could even have gotten away with the marred pelt from numerous fights, could possibly have pulled it off as an additional indication of masculinity and superiority, if it had not been for his expression. Those eyes were the eyes of Metnal's nightmare. The eyes of an unstable mind, a sociopathic mind. He could have his solemn moments, his sombre moments, moments when his lips were quiet and proper and not twisting his muzzle into his usual eerie grins, but Scáth could never quite mask the insanity that lurked inside him, bubbling up and spreading like a disease through the depths of his mind. The seeds of madness had been sown long before the night of the extermination, and had since sprouted and flourished under Erida's rule. He was a living time bomb that could explode at any time, and that was the true 'ugliness' that other canines picked up in his presence. That was why dogs could never be quite at ease when the Metnal beta was padding past. Scáth barely twitched an ear in response to the Rotweiller bitch's words; one could have seriously wondered whether he'd even heard, as his devious expression didn't so much as flicker despite the insult first towards the Metnal alphess, then to his own appearance. At last, he spoke in that dark, sinisterly cheerful tone, looking somewhat thoughtful. " Hm... Sounds like fun. Let's go for a little walk to try that out, eh?"

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[Tsunami]

[bg=666666][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,false][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,400,true][atrb=background,http://i450.photobucket.com/albums/qq227/Pideaux/RPG/Tsunami/tsu2-1.jpg] When she finished speaking, her head was held in a prideful demeanor, her eyes slitted, staring and the crippled Beta before her. All her expectations were crushed and her facial features showed the anger beginning to boil once again beneath her black and rust pelt. He showed no emotion at all! Of course she knew he could be holding it back for her sake. He didn't want to upset her.. it was obvious to Tsunami. Seconds before the growl rising in her chest had a chance to escape, she stopped it. It all made sense now, the poor soul was crushing on Tsunami. She couldn't blame him really in the end. '....fat chance.' Tsunami muttered to herself, rolling her eyes. The black folded triangular ears perked themselves forward at the mention of trying her suggestions out. In her mind, she figured this would be a perfect opportunity to piss Erida off immensely. In reality, the obvious interest she now held for the scarred canine stemmed from his interest in her. Not necessarily in any physical fashion, but he was paying her some kind of attention and listening to what she really had to say. A sinister smile grew slowly across her maw and her ears retreated back. The images of passing Erida side by side with Scath slithered into her mind, filling her heart with more glee than she had experienced since the Extermination "That sounds like quite the lovely idea. Perhaps you can get some practice in. With my assistance of course." The sinister grin remained etched across her face as she stood and filled the space that separated the two canines, her frame lightly rubbing against his. "Shall we?", she said, winking and then turning from the Beta as she slowly made her way out of the cave. There was a slight sway in her hips but this wasn't meant for Scath by any means. It was meant for any other canine who might be close enough to sense the fae emerging from within the cave.

[♦€rida♦]

[bg=0b0121][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,false][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,400,true][atrb=background,http://i47.tinypic.com/5frq8n.jpg] It had been quite some time since the queen had visited the dens. The last week had been spent wandering the freelands away from home, and away from the pack. Since her offspring were now old enough to not need her so close by the chance was snatched to wander. Even Erida needed her "me" time. Some may find it hard to believe considering how collected the doberman bitch seemed, but she seemed to need to clear her head more often then many. Despite how coolly she performed her duties, how straight faced and nonchalant she was about every day to day activity that was pack related it took a toll on the cold hearted bitch. Long, slender limbs danced over the terrain pulling her closer to her personal cave away from the others. It became obvious when she neared home as small clouds of dust formed around dainty paws as the lush grasses turned into only random tufts of green. Tall, cropped radars stood alert upon her skull, twisting with each sound within hearing distance. Though the receptors stood on guard the muscles beneath a dove hued pelt were relaxed, no stress present upon her. The fae's entire aura seemed serene, honey hued optics unusually kind and almost at peace. The caves etched into the face of Devil's Ridge finally came into view. The stones were painted with an array of fiery hues as the sun began it's struggle against the moon. The night's lantern had just began to ascend into the still light blue sky urging the ball of fire to slumber. Rays of orange, red, and pink flashed out against the lands, metaphoric fingers grasping desperately to each crevice fighting the inevitable disappearance. Even the demoness could appreciate the beauty of the painted skies. Tan brows stitched together as voices began to echo within the caves. A slight irritance washed across her features as the quiet musings of the alphess were interrupted. The words colliding with the stone walls were not quite decipherable at the distance at which she now stood, nothing but jumbled noise. A deep sigh expanded her lungs, narrow haunches lowering to the earth below. Maybe the talk would stop...maybe they'd just go away and leave her be. One could only hope. Only moments after gaining a relaxed posture upon the earth a dark figure emerged from the caves. Optics narrowed slightly as the female rottweiler came into view. The most annoying fae upon the lands in Erida's mind. What was she up to with that slutty posture of hers? A smirk began to tug at her slender maw as she considered of how highly the other bitch thought of herself, how feminine and delicate she believed she was. It was all rather amusing to the temptress. It was definite within Erida's mind that nobody could work the males like she could whether it were true or not, and none ever would. Although she did have plans on teaching any worthy daughters a thing or two.