Over the Edge. [Rogue Mjölnir]

Member Posts : 7 Join date : 2014-10-29

There was a hunger in his stomach unlike anything he had ever known before. Life proved so difficult for those that had nobody to depend on, the ones like him, friendless and alone, each day appearing to be a continuous loop of the one just before, but who was he to make such a claim? His head wasn’t quite on straight; something extraordinary could take place, and if he was lucky enough to recall it with complete clarity in the morning, he’d probably still endlessly ramble to himself about the tediousness of a Rogue’s life. Something other than hunger coiled inside of him, tightening his chest, making his breaths contorted and insensible, and for a moment he couldn’t remember what he was doing. The air smelt distinctly of something, and surely what he heard in the not so far distance was an unsuspecting deer pulling grass out from the ground. His white ears twitched, lips pursed in concentration, but with little more than an exaggerated shake of his head to show for his momentary uncertainty, he pressed onward - whatever lurked in the shadows would present itself when and if it wanted. He had never been one to tempt the monsters that were far more monstrous than he, not intentionally anyway; he knew it was best to wander these lands of his with careful steps and analytic eyes, for it’d be a shame if someone had to lose their head - the gods knew his wasn’t screwed on tight.

Straight ahead. It was such a beautiful creature to observe in its natural habitat, oblivious and carefree, slender neck bent towards the ground, blissfully unaware of the arguably present carnivore with intensely focused eyes and a watering mouth. A length of time passed, and briefly he was equally as unaware of whether minutes were hours or hours were minutes, but little of his scenery had changed, and he knew that if he waited much longer he would risk losing his meal and thus having to spend another night alone and starving. He couldn’t have that, absolutely not, and it was with sudden determination that the stutter in his stomach - a quiet voice pressing for him to feed - shifted his legs into motion without his direct consent, and with a startled cry he stumbled forward and into a hunt that was more tactics of insanity than it was tactics of precision and prowess.

Needless to say the common deer likely had more intelligence than he did, at least, in the areas that counted to a normal wolf, and so with a mixture of quick reflexes and fresh terror, the young doe managed to evade his inadequate pounce and thus begin the race for its life. Obscuro had been hasty in his change of direction, and in a matter of seconds he was on the mammal’s tail, but with how frequently it swerved from his left to his right, he could never be sure of when it was best to attempt another strike. He snarled, a sign of his impatience, the sound seeming to stir the petrified creature even further as it pressed onward with renewed speed. Refusing to give up on what could very well be his only chance at a meal for the remainder of the day, Obscuro remained fixated on its heel, and though he could feel himself steadily falling behind, his endurance no match for that of his prey, he pushed himself and pushed himself until the doe trampled through the bushes and right into its untimely death, having escaped the jaws of a predator but found itself an entirely new means through which to perish. Puzzled, Obscuro paused to listen to the fading bleat of the doe, his suspicions confirmed for what lay just ahead when the distinctive crunch of bones impacting solid earth with impressive force announced itself like encroaching thunder.

It was curiousity at best that drove him to peer over the edge, sniffing reluctantly at the space previously filled by what he had hoped to digest. “How lovely.” There was nobody around to witness how he rolled his eyes, leaning just a tad farther into the unforgiving clutches of the cliff to call out to the inevitably deceased animal. “Suicide is a sin, my dear!” He was talking to nothing more than an imprint of what had once been, an animal that couldn’t respond and wouldn’t respond even if it could, but he believed there was a certain degree of importance to what he had to say, and even though his prey had died at the hands of a threat perhaps grander than his teeth, he would see her again in the afterlife where wrongdoers like them could dwell for all eternity.

- He's hallucinating the children.

The liquid boiled and bubbled to life as an insidious creature rose from it's murky, untold depths, its form completely taking on something it hadn't originally been when it had submerged. Slime oozed from it's pelt and the darkened water dripped helplessly from the form just so it could pour a forbidden trail behind them that would start at the water's edge. From only the length of a single piece of grass below the eyes and above were the only portion of the carnivore to what had not been covered nor even flickered with the swamp's delicate touch of moss. The rest was a grotesque mixture of brown, black and a sickly green to what hung from it's limbs in the effort of surviving the slow ride. It's lungs caused his mouth to fume with a series of gentle pants, the exhaustion having built up deep within his chest from being under and into the unknown for only a short while. There lay a whole new world beneath that surface, a realm which he'd find an evil interest in exploring perhaps some day, but only in the carnation to which he'd be given the right set of lungs and appendages to do so. This vessel shall only last him for these lands - the creator would choose the next destiny when his soul will be grounded to the soil at his claws upon judgement day. The icey air around his jaws caused the pants to turn visible, forming the illusion that he was more of a beastly creature during the mid-day with his new arrangement of colors blended into his coat. However, he was unfortunately blessed with the incapability to care about his appearance and dieting.

His head flickered to a new sound to whom he had earned only months prior to his arrival here, in which was higher, clearer even than the last voices to which he had encountered. He'd obey to it as apart of his free will, given the belief it was the holy one whom had called to him, and despite what images this force would make him see, he'd enjoy them no matter how bloody, how enjoyably evil they truly were. Just the slightest twitch of his snout would flea drops of mud into careless directions, he never seemed to notice so much as to where they'd go, only to be redirected by the sweet desire wafting his nostrils. The iron and salty musk practically made love to his senses, a grim smile forming at his cracked, gunk-covered lips as his whiskey, golden eyes dilated to the size of a pin needle. His single ear, the other merely a bitten one, heard noises distant of his presence, one of movement and joy closing in on his being. The sound of a child's laughter rings in his ears, and he crawls closer in step to the source of his guilty pleasure with haste. He is not slow, nor fast, but perfectly aligned and near to tears as the smile starts to hurt. Though the rogue does not drop it. The laughs get softer and less clear to his broken mind - and he begins to growl in protest that they stay where they are. He even desperately shudders a tune from his cold lips to summon them to him for a tasteful meal, his own voice croaked due to the lack of speaking for so long, "Come thee my children.. the time's come to play.." The silence got deeper, "-here in my garden.. of shadows.." Soon he was at final rest with the sound of nothingness, and his song held no more meaning. They'd return to him, they would, he swore that much. And they would, eventually, but only the black of his thoughts would compel that for another story. The children to whom all he had fed on will serve a new day to play in his dreams, and feed his nerves with more cruelness than one could possibly imagine.

The divergent one's acuteness to the light nearly blinded him as he attempted to look towards the sky, the smell of blood still fresh and leaving him curious, because the hunger still bit his stomach. The carcass would not last him long - the life was no good if it were not his own kind, either way, he'd starve if he did not hunt for something on such short notice. The hallucinations would only return and cause the hunger to grow with the sounds of more young lives surrounding him, beckoning him he lash out with the desperate need to snap their necks and digest their insides. And here he thought it was merely the mind's fault - but only his own as well. He heard a voice, almost mistaking it for another illusion before it made a shadow across the cave-like walls. Abit, he almost believed he had been the only to walk this dirt, he had underestimated wolves much before, though such adults would not test his need to feed. Only the young could ever do that, the most he could ever do wrong was introduce himself.

"But a lovely sin to graciously commit, wouldn't you agree?" He said with a skeptical brow, quirked earnestly for the wolf.

Member Posts : 7 Join date : 2014-10-29

Even a living, breathing presence, his voice like a disregarded embrace, wasn’t enough to distract the Rogue from his bubbling, bursting thoughts, distraught by the fact that a creature would rather take its own life than risk succumbing to the unpleasant bite of the sickly. In truth, the cliff had probably proved an invisible trap, an entirely separate kind of monster that would sooner wait out its meals in places where it was unseen. Obscuro felt threatened by it, to think that such a thing existed - a dangerous drop lurking just behind the foliage - and suddenly cautious of his surroundings, of where others like it could be hiding, he ducked away from the new grave and spun to face his company.

His surprise was fleeting, for even though he had never stopped being aware of the male behind him, perhaps on a subconscious level, he had somehow forgotten that there was another matter to attend to now. His words . . . there was something commanding about the way that he spoke, like he was prompting Obscuro to agree with him, to share his viewpoint, and for some odd reason that made him feel unpleasant on the inside. He had always been a solo act, never traveling in numbers, never relying on someone else to keep him safe, and perhaps that was why he had become so negative in the presence of a stranger, had become so exhausted of company - for when deprived of something for as long as he had been, it began to feel unnecessary to survival.

His lip twitched, more of a quiver than an outright frown. “It’s hardly lovely in actuality. I’m certainly not in any rush to discover what awaits me on the other side, but if you’re in a rush of any kind, then perhaps what awaits you is quite literally on the other side -” he stepped just slightly out of the way, “- of these bushes, to be exact.” Looking back to the stranger, he flashed a genuine smile; rarely was the sound of his voice directed towards an audience grander than himself, and though at first he had been a tad reluctant about accepting his companionship, now it felt almost natural. It didn’t take him very long to discover his comfort zone. “I wouldn’t go so far as to call myself gracious, but I can give you a little push if you’d like. I can only imagine that it isn’t the easiest thing to do alone.” It was likely that he wasn’t interpreting the stranger’s peculiar words in the proper way, but that didn’t stop him from nearing the other male’s side, pushing the white fur of his muzzle against the side of his leg as though to aid him in the anxious march to his death.

The doe was down there all alone, after all, and nobody deserved to be alone in death; maybe this wolf could keep her company.

- Sorry for the two day delay, love<3

To what did life precisely owe the deranged? There were no harm nor foul being made upon curiosity, and he took no emotion to the nearing of the other. His subconscious allowed him rest in the time it took for the white flower to realize his words, responding rationally, which he found almost humorously in himself to see that this mere other could be friendly, and even friendlier, up close. But not the type of neighborly wolf-like aura one would think when speaking of the word of 'friendly fondness', but to a rogue's standpoint, where such feelings were of the rare, and not as strong. The sight was a fascinating find, and to what did he owe the grandest favor? The twinkle to his dilated eyes widened in this brute's presence, sending him to nearly tail lengths in distance apart from one another. Never had he before been afraid to get up close and personal, but tolerated the act of it.

Mjölnir neared the flower's side, brushing his fur just slight of his as he too closed the space between them. "Perhaps not..-" His gaze smoldered a bright color as he peered slightly over the edge, seeing the silhouette of the doe spread across the forest floor, "-the other side would fear for my existence if the demons knew I was with them." There held no bragging right in his tone, for he was not fond of the things he did, though took pride in a slight portion of the game. Hell was of the last places he wished to be right now. The brute smiled to the body, more towards out of bliss that it was a quick death, and the doe whom was supposed to never learn how to fly, was able too before her last breath. His ears turned slightly back as he felt his forearm being gently tapped by a furred muzzle, to what he examined the source of from the white flower he knew no name of, but never thought to ask. The brute did not budge, but simply stayed put and turned back to the fallen below. "Oh.. but she is not alone - she's in the company of her ancestors and even strangers she'll come to love in the next realm. By the end, we will only hope she has forgiven you so that we may join her in the white fields, as well..." He voice was soft, airy like the spring breeze surrounding the duo nearest the cliff. Below danced those to whom he killed, his mind playing more tricks so that it persuaded him to believe the doe was not quite alone, but in the presence of the lives he took guilt for.

A groan sighed out his muzzle as he flicked his head and closed his eyes to make the memory stop long enough for him to act casual before the other. Gripping tight of reality, he lowered his snout and backed away from the cliff while rounding near to the flower's side. "I assume you have a name, love?" He politely voiced.

Member Posts : 7 Join date : 2014-10-29

He was far too oblivious in nature to see the other male’s intentions of nearing even closer, and closer still, as anything other than kindness in its purest form, because although he wasn’t a stranger to affections - he had known plentiful a she-wolf rather personally in his lifetime - he had never been the target of a male’s desire, and therefore knew not what it looked like. The way that the other spoke of demons and the like was interesting, maybe even a little unsettling at points, but no matter which it was Obscuro couldn’t help but be fascinated. He was in no position to judge what company was supposed to be like, and since he had been rather deprived of the ability to communicate with his peers as of late, he couldn’t think of a more natural thing to be talking about. When he spoke of forgiveness, Obscuro found his green eyes traveling down the length of the cliffside once again to further examine the dead body. “She won’t forgive me. I imagine her spirit can read my thoughts, and if such is the case, she already knows that I’d eat her if I could find a way down there.” As if to prove that what he said was true, he ran his tongue over his white lips, the sight of her appetizing him; eyes alight with a sudden afterthought. “And if she couldn’t read my thoughts, then surely she knows now, for I said it aloud for all the dead to hear.”

He wasn’t afraid. The dead had never harmed him before, and he saw no reason for them to start now. The male called for his name, referring to him with a strange nickname of sorts - he couldn’t be sure that he liked it - and he voiced aloud such a concern with the tightening of his eyelids. Normally, he didn’t go out of his way to identify with the stranger Rogues that he encountered; there was no reason that they’d ever meet again, lest fate decide otherwise, so getting formally acquainted was nothing more than a waste of valuable time in his eyes. “I tell others to call me Obscuro when they ask, but it’s hardly a name. Most don’t use it, and I rarely refer to myself in the third person - it feels strange on my tongue.” He didn’t immediately ask that his company return the favour, unsure of how to approach the situation. He didn’t particularly want his name, but just as well he didn’t want to be rude; his mind, ever battling with itself.

Though when in doubt, always choose honesty.

“I must admit I don’t want to ask for your name, but that wouldn’t be very nice of me, so I suppose you can give it if you’d like to.” His shoulders tensed, confident in his words yet still wary enough to understand that chances were high that he wouldn’t appreciate such a thing being said to him. Honesty was the best policy, he knew that well, but that didn’t always mean it was the best option. He had yet to learn when it was safer to keep his mouth shut, to simply do and say as was expected of him by the normals, and it was likely that he never would. Looking towards the stranger, but only briefly, he added so as to soften the blow if one had been dealt in the first place. “I haven’t gotten to know many wolves in my life, so I suppose it feels a little unnatural for me to have a name to attach to your face -” he motioned as though to tap his face with the tip of his muzzle, but stopped abruptly. “- nameless guy or gal is my acceptable fallback, for it applies to everyone. Even you.”

"Mjölnir," he murmured about the closing wind.

With faint reminiscence in sympathizing with the suicidal goal, the rogue abnormally reminded himself that he was parched, deprived of hunger and needing a taste for blood. His eyes mauled over the lovely form as he risked another chance in taking a step forth to look over the edge once more, when satisfied, he reared back to his original placing alongside the rogue, whom he was vaguely collected of. He was entertained by the obscure tone in the male's voice as he recollected upon forgiveness, a subject perhaps he could speak about for days but never find a real interest in unless foretold by others. He surpassed a tweaked laugh and replaced it with a weak gruff as he rolled his tongue his chapped black lips, only did he stop when he noticed the wolf displaying the same motion. For the flower, it had seemed intentional, rather for him it was out of a gentle habit, he could not help but to watch as the male's eyes traveled longer than his had at the fallen one. The divine interest almost enticed him to ask upon it, but bit the inside of his cheek for he was filled with fresher words. "Your words arouse me. I shall grant you that.. t'if we only could read one another's mind like so without having to hear them actually confess it." He shook his head, mouth agape as he released a mellow yet calming breath of icey air. A small laugh escaped his throat, "-but where would the fun be if we were given the advantage?" And to as if the wolf had silently given in, he allowed a slight portion of his depths to be a tad revealed before closing it again with a veil. The humor in his voice was meant to entertain, he couldn't help it than to allow this wolf to see that within him as apart of the small sliver of sanity left in his veins.

"I shall call you Obscuro if that is what you prefer rather than what I call the nameless I've tried avoiding, but end up near however." He said in a bored tone of voice, silently leaving his eyes at a squinted angle while his brows furrowed closer till they were knitted near to a whole. As the wolf got closer, the male would already have begun to lay down, lowering himself gradually until all his weight relied on the ground for comfort. Mjölnir peered to Obscuro with whiskey yellow orbs that inspired curiosity and tastefulness to continue, an ability he didn't quite enjoy, but was favored by a few he could no longer recall the faces or names of. "In my.. most honest way, I will confess I share no interests in progressing further than names - perhaps hours after our departure I will have already forgotten it.. and with that, I do not think of you to be rude in saying it is useless to learn names.. I can agree-," The brute admitted, his eyes narrowing closer together as the white wolf came into his breathing space, which he did not tend to mind as much with this one. Maybe he even favored it, actually.

"-however, faces are more valuable than names." The rogue said breathlessly, a tinge of flirtation coiling at his tongue, wondering as to how the white wolf would react, though equally careless as well to it, for anyone was entitled to their right of voice. Their freedom was endless within these lands, for they were undefined and did not belong to society - they were merely misfits of a dark world with little time to survive.

- Are you still wishing for them to continue?

Member Posts : 7 Join date : 2014-10-29

[sorrysorrysorry! v.v I've been having a bit of a muse fail for Obscuro. I'll try to get to this by tonight, or by tomorrow afternoon at the latest.]

Member Posts : 7 Join date : 2014-10-29

He dipped his head in agreement, content to finally relax a little since the stranger was unbothered by how blunt he had been in his honesty. He spent very little of his time with the other Rogues that inhabited the land, for so few of them were truly... right in the head, so far gone that there was nothing left for him to hope to gain from them. The company of the societal wolves, the rightfully sane, was much more preferable, for he could spend hours upon hours peering past their eyes and into the brain - rarely would they accept his presence for long, he was much too unpredictable for their comfort, but he enjoyed himself nonetheless when given the chance. He had been just like them not too long ago, after all, had he really managed to change so much in what time it had taken for him to supposedly become sick?

"Are you of the preference for male companionship?" The stranger's take on flirtation hadn't gone undetected, truthfully he was paying quite a bit of attention to the one called Mjölnir, but Obscuro couldn't be sure he swung that way; not when there were so many females with pretty faces left among him in this world. He cared for all of them too deeply. Too unforgivingly. "I can't say I'm the same, if you're such at all. But if that ever changes you'll be the first I call for." Maybe that would be mistaken for him returning his affections, even if his doing so was done absentmindedly. He had never put much thought into his sexuality, for there had never been a good enough reason to reevaluate it. Looking at Mjölnir, he couldn't say his body quivered with the same... urges as it did for a female, but perhaps that meant nothing. He couldn't be sure.

- I thought I'd ease this off both of our shoulders for activity. c:

His words were quite limited - this much he had learned to like in those rarely he would come to meet and cherish, for it would be the largest amount of socialization he'd come close to. Mjölnir rested quietly in stance, towering to his full potential, which was quite normal, actually, and shaking some excess to what had clung to his sides. The disrupted images of children prancing in his eyes did not stop him from breathing, nor carrying on, and so he'd speak with a sinister tongue and would so without care and to his own liking no matter those whom loathed his company. Misery was his company, as was this white flower, he'd make the most of it while it still lasted. His inability to hide a quirked brow would not go unnoticed, it could not be helped by even the slightest to his own curiosity for the opposing male, "My liking is equal to both brute and fae relations.. but of only age does it differ." He believed, knowing his tastes and interests, just as well as where his boundaries set between his so-called limited relationships. "-I share no use in politics and stereotypes; if I feel they are my equal, then I shall treat them as such. No cozy allowed." Mjölnir said rather sternly without intention, the tip of his tongue growing sour as his stomach churned for the need of blood upon it.

With a tilted crook of his head, he washed the strictness free of his mind before taking a single step closer. Parched, the male was beckoned to the attention that their stay wouldn't last as long as he'd hoped. As his eyes wandered terribly noticeable over the other, he couldn't help but breathe a disappointed sigh before wedging a cynical smize that could only mean one thing. The rogued fellow leaned a tad closer, enough so that his breath grazed atop the gracious flower's neckfur, but far enough so that his nose nor lips did not brush the surface. "I'm afraid I must say good-bye, dearest Obscuro.. My thirst is summoning me elsewhere and I mustn't continue to badger you with my.. needs." The wolf would murmur before facing his attention elsewhere from the stranger's eyes, turning his body slowly around to the direction his mind chose. With a slight tilt of his mouth, he looked forwards and thanked the other with the flick of his tail,

"Perhaps we'll meet again."

Seconds later, he was a mere dot walking towards the sunset, the distance growing unfathomably stronger each passing moment until his existence was merely gone.

*Mjölnir exits*

» Mjölnir
» An Unexpected Rendezvous [Mjölnir]
» Easy Innocence [Mjölnir]
» Edge of Infinity
» Burning Desires [Mjölnir/Open]

Over the Edge. [Rogue Mjölnir]

Over the Edge. [Rogue Mjölnir]

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