Screaming at the Top of My Lungs [Desoto]

Come play with us... It's what you do best!

His eyes snapped open, flecks of gold filtering through the dark light as he woke up in a drunken stupor in a place he knew not but that he was suddenly cold when he registered his surroundings. He was covered in a light blanket of frost, having guessed his fur must've been damp before he had fallen asleep and had frozen slightly overnight as he last tasted the leftovers still stuck between his teeth. Completely dull to what happened, he should his head and rolled out a tired yawn before rubbing his temple into one of his arms. The brute groaned, confused, dazed even as he squinted through the dark lighting to find an anchor of sorts to bring him down to Earth once more. He listed things to keep him sane, an exercise he sometimes went over in his head after a long night of nightmares and a trapped sleep in which was hard for him to get out of during an intense dream. Mjölnir quietly pushed himself up, front legs forwards with his ear raised as he'd lean downwards in the attempt to stretch out his limbs and bulky form. As he'd let out a disgruntled noise, it'd begin to echo and shift into an illusive pair of laughs in the far distance. He stiffened, the frost which collected upon him no longer being the source of coolness that made him shiver, but fear that ran in strange ways through him. A consistent emotion that was easily, most usually, masked by madness and replaced with hunger. With widened eyes and a crouched position, the male stalked slowly from his position, still hazy of the night before but distracted by the imaginative sounds which tricked him into temptation. "I do not wish to engage in your games.." He'd hiss, his paws silently moving one by one beneath him as the muscles under his fur would twitch and gather together to function properly to the limbs which they attached to.

His breathe drew in light puffs of air that iced over once the oxygen mixed with the stench left over from his mouth. The rogue couldn't list the amount of carcasses he had consumed in the last few days, perhaps ten if he could give an estimation, a rough guess, along with the enriching taste of a fresh pup between his jaws. He'd coo at the sweet memory, but for now, he was on the chase with his fantasies. And the laughter would continue to hammer into his mind, and even trick him by weaving into several directions. The tempo increased and the movements became more scattered to his mind, along with his insanity. The rogue knelt over and closed his eyes, his limbs collapsing beneath him which only caused the male to double over and keep as close to himself as he could whilst counting away the dying moments. "Stop.. stop, I beg of you.. stop!" He'd scream at the top of his lungs, his voice bellowing out through the forest in ruined waves. The blue eerie air ignored the cry for help, making him the lonely one in the middle of a terrible illusion come true. Mjölnir wept. Defeated and beaten by his own mind, weak beyond any other could make. He allowed himself to do this to himself, which was rather ironic, for in another sense, he avoided all costs of experiencing anymore pain. The voices drifted away from him once more and silence resumed the air. Breathing heavily now, he stayed curled on the ground in a defensive pose, his eyes shot with paranoia as they stared into the dark abyss that would lead to what he knew not. Lost and alone, he'd lay there and tremble from his own insanity. Hunger would soon take control, in which caused the male to count down the moments left until then he'd feed again.

Lying curled in his den his chest rose and fell silently, his eyes shut hiding the world from him as he slept. But his dreams were not very pleasant. He had heard of the war through rumors going throughout Agavos, Esmé had been there, witnessed the horror. He could only imagine what it could have been like to sit there and watch your sister die and be able to do nothing about it. Plus, then having to go back with the monster who had killed her. No, didn't seem fun at all. The self-hearted Omega, Noble, had been given as a trade for the scout back. Obviously a few lies were have had to been told in order to get the evil alpha of Erenyx to agree. The brute had turned sour after being rejected the ability to mate with a late she-wolf named Emily. Refusing to help in pack events and such he distanced himself more, and you could see in his eyes the hatred he felt for everyone here. Emily had been promoted, but not for long. Passing on for reasons unknown to him she left the pack and the brute, leaving him with an even nastier attitude. This led Desoto to feeling highly negative about that wolf's loyalty. ANd although Esmé was much more valuable, Noble was what he would call a "flip." He can easily flip emotions and loyalties, and since he had been in Agavos longer, he can tell them secrets. Course he did not want the vixen to stay there, he was gland the black male was gone, he just feared for the lives of the unknowing. And it was the talks and thoughts of these things that caused him to begin once more to sleep restlessly. Flashbacks from the long war her had taken part in came into his mind. The concept of a war was very complex, and usually had a reason over something such as territory, but not over the death of a sister or other kinds of sibling. That was more of those who know her lets go get them for revenge, but the Alphess of Helidos had caused a full blown war, which she lost. To him it was quite obvious who would win when he heard of the rivals. A large powerful Alpha male against a small female, it was as clear as day. What he mostly, as one might say, feared about in the war was Braelyn's life. The Elite knew she had fought, and injury was inevitable, but he just hoped she hadn't died. Not before he was able to speak with her again, even one last time.

His eyes opened to still be met with darkness, a small chill in the air as well. Rising onto his paws he slowly stretched out his muscles, a yawn escaping his jaws. It wasn't worth trying to go back to sleep, it just wouldn't happen. Walking out of his den he grabbed a hare from the leftover pile of food and ate it in peace outside of his den. The breeze ruffled his pelt a bit, and small flakes of snow fell gently to the ground. Winter was here, and personally he was avoiding talking to any females. He didn't need their attention or attempts to seduce him into mating with them. Which he doubted would come anyways. Finishing his meal he buried the bones beneath the snow and ground and then headed out of camp at a light lope. Passing the borders he went into the neutrals into the Rouge an Exile lands. Slowing his pace down mist slowly surrounded him. Sniffing the air he smelt another wolf, a familiar one. One he wished he was done with, but he knew that now they were both here. And the cannibal would find him. But then came a scream, a plea for a tormentor to stop. But he scented nothing other than the two of them. Narrowing his eyes he sighed, Might as well safe the poor bastard from his own torment.. Walking towards where the scent came from he saw the lone male. He was trembling curled up on the ground, obviously scared over something. " I don't know what kind of horror your mind came up with now, but you are the only one here besides me. So stop mixing the voices in your head with the real ones, freak." Tone snappy he scolded the male. Lowering his rump he sat on the cold floor, his golden eyes and outline of black looking like a ghost through the mist. But he knew he would be recognized, for the rogue seemed to have an obsession with the Elite. And it wasn't flattering.

The whistling of winds soon drowned out any source of life which may of surrounded the roguish brute, as he lay in waiting for something to occur, but not hopeful on it for the land he had wound himself in. Pressing his face deep within the comfort of his fur, he faced his eyes distinctly away from the winds so that they'd not be burned, using his ears, turned backwards, were his only working sense at the given moment. His emotions calmed down soon enough, for this hadn't been the first episode - and he certainly wouldn't think of it to be the last. Mjölnir remained still, the swaying of the fur atop his side the only movement made as the wind would grant its path, grazing him and chilling him to the bones, though he refused to flinch under so much stress. The body could only take so much before it has worn itself down, and the mind was no better. By the time he could hear someone near him, his fur had already been dusted with a light layer of snow from the grey skies above. He lifted his head a bit sluggishly to see who had joined him, but the energy to even do that made his leveled chin falter. Attempting to sniff the air, his vision blurry as they squinted through the dark forest, the results confused him. Could it be? He tried not to get his hopes up, and lowered his face back onto the ground, the effort of a grin pinching at his maw to assume he was quite alright - though internally he was quite the opposite. Perhaps even a pack wolf could determine such ill minds and calm exteriors, but due to his roguish ways, he didn't count on it. Eventually came into view his beloved pack wolf, Desoto, his fur the same obsidian shade and those beautiful golden hues that could cut through souls if they so wished. He made a rumbling noise of delight, though he failed to open his mouth enough for it to be as loud as he would've wanted at the presence of the other male.

At the other's voice, he knew then officially that it was his beloved, and smiled a weak smile which contrasted somewhat to the grin he still tried with. Mjölnir sought it to be concern in the other's voice, though it was clear the other didn't care, however the male was oblivious to such things. With a blind obsessive love for the other, he could care less of what he'd call him, his independence and rational behavior made the rogue only grow closer in fondness. "Mm..," He groaned, moving his head across the debris-ridden ground to face the other where he made himself comfortable to sit, "-has anyone told you, that you sound ravishing when you're bossy?" And of course, with all that which Hell brought him through his crazed thoughts, he was still the same old rogue as before. He took comfort in the thought of how well he could bounce back from such an intense hallucination, but he couldn't quite say that for most of them. There had been times where Mjölnir could hallucinate so terribly and knock out, that he'd forget everything he had ever been through the night before. It was like being constantly drugged up one day, to completely forget it the next - as if a skip in time. Mumbling, mostly to himself, but allowing the other to hear him, the rogue spoke, "I suppose you think lowly of little ol' me now..," the brute turned his eyes from the other, the whiskey golden hue fading softly as the reflection of the grey skies within them made them cloudier in color, "-you have a reason to be." For once, Mjölnir did not smile, nor shed a trace of joy in his tone. He had revealed his weaken state before his other, and so would never forgive such a thing. His stomach growled quietly, but he refused to get up to find something quickly. He allowed it to burn within him, for it only made him stronger against his own hunger. How troublesome he was.

Sorry it kinda sucks... plus perfect timing for my time zone ;D

Emotion is... a very complex thing. In certain situations one might feel joy, happiness, and delight. Another, sadness, despair, and depression. Envy, greed and a few others as well. Each a different word, each a feeling of it's own. But what makes it so complex is how each being demonstrates the thing that connect, yet disconnect, the world. Where one might feel comfort and happiness in one situation, another could feel panic and anxiety in the same. The same could be said for the situation now with the Rouge and the pack wolf. The Elite felt nothing but disgust and hate, but the Rogue felt desire and perhaps passion. Two completely different sets of emotions but were still felt between two different beings. Emotions, once learned, were easily read, but how one reacts to them may be different. Mjolnir took his disgust and took his foul nature to be attractive. And Desoto took the other's passion and flirting to be distasteful. But there was another factor: how easily one can display emotions. Anything other than irritation, distaste, anger, and a few others were hard to express. Love and passion? He might feel it, but it very difficult for him to let out and give. And since that side of him was fairly dormant, he was given adjectives like 'cold-hearted.' He learned to ignore them, he didn't care for what wolves thought of him anyways. Well, there were a few exceptions, but for the majority, that is how things were.

Ravishing? That'd be a first time he would be called such a thing. Letting out a mix of a snort and a growl in response he let his distaste be known. Why he still sat there was beyond him, but as he flicked his tail he watched the movements of the cannibal very closely. He seemed pained, and cold. Well obviously he is cold.. it is winter for heaven's sake.. Narrowing his eyes he listened in silence as a soft murmur from the other met his ears. Think little of him? A reason to? Well, if he were to be actually disappointed in him the Rouge would have had to do something awful. But the only thing that was really wrong was the fact that... Oh, now I see... Letting a sigh escape his jaws he shook his head as the other's stomach growled softly. He would never understand how this male was able to take the lives of innocent children to satisfy his belly. "I'm guessing it was their voice then?" He knew, because he had been told before, that the peculiar male heard the voices of his victims. Even if they were, obviously, not there. "I can't fathom how you do such a thing, but you can't only rely on the flesh of the young to feed your monster of a stomach. If you wallow in self pity and despair because you're unable to get the meat of a child, then you will never taste it again. Not that you should. Ever, actually." Even if he hated the beast, he wouldn't just let him die because of his unnatural behavior. The truth was, they were both different. Desoto didn't need much interaction with those of his kind, being in a pack supplied all he really might need. But for someone like Mjolnir, who had no option of joining the safety of one, he was on his own. Left to find others to supply his socialization needs, and to hunt for himself more. The life alone was not an easy one, but it could be done. However, you would die if you didn't try to stay alive.

His body went into a dormant state, muscles relaxing under his fur as he'd splay across the ground in an almost tender fashion. The obsidian companion of the roguish fellow seemed to find humor in his compliments, to what he owed a smile of in return, a pick up in pace for his heart that hid behind his rib cage towards such a sound. The corner of his lips twitched at that before allowing the male to contemplate amongst himself in silence. Solace then returned to him at last when the brute sighed over him, as if in disappointment, however the rogue did not dare peering to the other head-on. He was terribly shamed of himself, in which he made that clear, but wasn't all that sure if his body language gave off that matching vibe. Perhaps it was and he was typically blind to his own aura, nevertheless, Mjölnir stayed put. However, his ears betrayed him to the pack wolf's curiosity, perking up as well as some movement of his chin. He had assumed it to be rhetorical for the male to of asked such a question, but he didn't complain when opening his mouth slightly ajar to answer it, closing it shut again when the brute continued. As Desoto spoke, the rogue only listened, never allowing himself to disturb his lover the longer he spoke in reason with him, however none of which he said seemed to of compute with the tawny dark brown male. If positioned appropriately, rather than laying down, he would've tilted his head, however the ground permitted his face from turning in such a concerning display. However, Mjölnir could not bring himself to argue with the other, but only apply a small sneer for a laugh, hopefully assuring the other it was no fur off his pack to starve a bit longer.

"Well..," he cleared his throat, forcing himself to ascend from his resting space, the cannibalistic trickster sat up and faced the other appropriately before lingering into his statement, "-if it's any consolation to your time being wasted, I do enjoy your concern over me." Whether he actually understood what the pack wolf had said to him or not, Mjölnir tried to make it clear that, no matter what, he shared a fondness for this male. He was independent, and clearly had an edge to him that showed an obvious indication that he did not truly need others to rely on, which what enticed the male even more. Yet still, his stomach rumbled, and he'd roll his eyes, however secretly enjoying the fact there were no voices to pester him at the moment about it. The brute thought it over a bit closely before finding the right set of words to respond until doing so, the pack wolf shouldn't be wasting his time in general here alone, but all in all, Mjölnir knew he was very much lost in this territory. He didn't have the heart, or the external care, to prove it, unfortunately. A seductive grin plastered across his face however, dissing the idea of talking out his addiction in replace for his favorite thing among his lover - hunting. Leaning in close, within breathing distance, the rogue peered into the other's glimmering gold hues with delight, "Say, how about you and I walk around? My legs have fallen asleep and need a bit of exercise." He used as an excuse, however it was true that his paws felt prickly and hurt from being on his side for so long. Rocking a bit forwards, but careful not to 'accidentally' press their snouts together, the male got up on all fours and displayed a rather interesting 'tip-toe' to get the blood circulating in his limbs. He shuddered as the wind picked up and his pads pressed into the frozen ground, inching rather smoothly into the male's side. The rogue took ever advantage he could to invade someone's personal space, and never so much as thought to mind getting into Desoto's, specifically. "It's been long, handsome. Let's ditch this pity party and get on to the good stuff, eh? Any pretty faes I need to toss around that think they can get with my precious lover?" Again, he did that little tip toe dance, only this time, it was out of joy, shuddering happily out of sheer thought to get some real action while emitting a small whine to if the male disapproved, "I promise I'll go easy on 'em, love! I swear it!" He cooed, although a pesky little grumble from his stomach seemed to echo out of his throat, causing the male to feel a tad flustered.

"Oops."

'cause i'm stuck self torturing

internal clock in smitherines can't fix this i'm hopeless

He hadn't changed at all. Mjölner was still the strangest wolf he had ever met. If being a cannibal who received visits from his victims wasn't enough for someone, he wondered what they would think if they were to dash a bit of homosexuality. Of course, he could present them with such a thing. All it took was for him to show up and request the poor brute's presence and he'd have him in tow. However, he would never boast over something like that. The fact of this matter is, he couldn't get rid of him, no matter how hard he might try. And although killing him is an option, and probably a good deed for the rest of the community, Desoto couldn't kill a wolf with the mindset of a child. Mature in body, the Rogue was no more than a child when it came to his mental capacity. Like no one had even attempted to raise him properly. He couldn't know for sure though, nor could he really judge the brown wolf for his wrong-doings. He thought it was the right thing, that there is nothing concerning about the fact that he likes the taste of wolf. But for the rest of the species it was foreign and unnatural, so they outcasted him. With reason of course. Besides that factor, the Elite couldn't let him starve to death knowing he could do something. He could complain all he wanted that the flesh of a rabbit was like eating bark compared to the soft tender meat of a child, but he would shove the food down his throat if he had too. Or give him actual bark to eat and see which he likes better. Which would be the best way to go for a parent? Why am I even thinking of this now?

And so he chastised the male to which he was a year senior. Treating him similarly to how he might think a father would to a troubled child who needed a pep-talk. But, of course, it was taken as a sign of affection. His face went strait, unmoving as he just stared at the weird thing in front of him. A look of complete and utter disapproval. He could only murmur as he pulled away a few steps from the cannibal, "I'm sure you do." He than began to stand, his balance awkward as he got used to the new position. Once situated, he then plastered on his best, what the pack wolf could only guess as, seductive grin. And yet it did nothing to him. Leaning forward, Mjölner got close to him. Too close. But the Elite did not move a muscle, he became stiff as he stared head on into the whiskey eyes of the other. He'd been in this position before, only it wasn't trying to spark a fire of desire and interest. So that, at least, was new. Walk around? That is all you want from me currently? Seems almost too innocent for you. Rocking back and forth he seemed completely content in the proximity between the two males. A shudder going through the rogue's body as the cold tried to wind around him again. He continued, this time going on about needing to teach a girl a lesson about trying to get with 'his' lover. If anything, it would be the opposite. Rolling his eyes Desoto just turned around, whipping his tail to slap the wolf's cheek and eyes in a warning. He walked forward, not waiting to see if the bastard followed. If he wanted a walk, he could have one. As long as he kept up with the black wolf. A whine sounded from behind him, sad and pleading. Again he rolled his eyes, a sigh coming out of his jaws after the words the other spoke. Lowering his head he knew this was going to be a long walk. "Trust me, if I were to have a girl wanting my love and affection-" Which I do. "You would be considered the one who is trying to get with one's lover. I am no such thing to you. Fantasize about me all you want, but don't tell me about it. Keep those thoughts in your head. You got it?" Looking over his shoulder he gave a stern look at the earth colored brute. Shaking his head as the endless stomach growled from the beast. Turning back around eh continued forward, nose sniffing the ground every once in a while and ears perked for the sounds and smell of prey.

tags, notes, etc.

made by chronika

Without proper needs of paying attention, he was certainly awaken and fired up to follow at Desoto's tail whipping across his face. He didn't know whether to feel overjoyed or shocked, so he expressed both with a practical winning smile. His boyish chuckle rumbling in the depths of his chest, his whiskey hues crinkling with happiness. The brute growled playfully and hiked some speed into his step after catching the warning glance of his jaw-dropping companion. Surely the gesture's purpose was to snap some sense into him, though for a rogue, was it even truly possible unless it were a dire threat to survival? Even then, he couldn't quite say he'd care or straighten a bit. He was as straight as winding river - nature had a strange way of showing that. Mjölner eventually followed suit in matching his beloved's stride, watching carefully to how he carried himself and so on while mustering a few pleasurable giggles into the air every so often. He tried his best to keep it from annoying the other, but other times it was quite helpless of the rogue to keep his mouth shut for long. The male began to coo soft hums whilst sniffing the air, admiring the view as he'd purposely fall a tad behind the onyx groom of his and cocking his head to receive an inside look. The peeping tom was no match for the Elite, for he began to speak, forcing the male to lift his head and smile to avoid suspicion. He shared no shyness towards the brute now.

At that, he released a pathetic grown and pinned his ears against his head, his posture slouching as he'd display a small tantrum whilst stomping his paws a bit faster to catch up. "You're so mean to me, Dessy. Come on.. if you can capture my heart, surely you've captured another's by now!" He said so matter-of-factually before the individual whom he cared for severely. Pouting his lip much like a child would, he leaned close to the slightly older, yet devilishly handsome wolf, and bat his golden eyes. Still, his stomach growled from within, but he ignored it as always. Then, like a light went off in his head, he leaned in even closer before catching the stern glare in his direction that he practically melted over inside. From despair to planned flirtatiousness, as always, Mjölnir graced his lips just short of the onyx male's ear and whispered with a raspy tone, "Don't worry about me, sweetheart.. I can learn to share." And with a playful snicker, he backed off before he could be bitten, though he's surely enjoy it if it had come to it. He spat nonsense without reason and, though mentally ill, he, by appearance, did not look like a rogue unless one were to further examine his torn ear. When he spoke, it was clear, but if silent, he could blend in perfectly with a crowd. Not that he'd want to after all, that was the perk of being called different - he stood out and praised it. Now, however, he shined his light on Desoto and protected it, even if he didn't express it very well alone. Shutting his eyes whilst in mid laughter, he shrugged it off gently and sighed. As he'd reopen his eyes, he wouldn't see the same forest he'd been walking alongside the Elite in anymore.

He stood still for a small moment and hesitated, though he did not question the change in atmosphere. Those that roamed reality would merely see him as a wolf standing still and observing his surroundings with confusion, however the rouge would be seeing something entirely different to the outside. He was alone, but subconsciously he could still smell the Elite somewhere within reach. The illusion blocked the image of the other walking alongside him and replaced the forest with a land with thicker trees and bright colors. His ears twitched as he had sworn to of heard something, speaking to what he assumed was himself alone in the area, "We're not in Wonderland anymore..." He whispered to himself, wondering where Desoto had gone, but more curious to the scampering of paws to his right. Glancing to what he had thought to of been a shadow, he met eyes with a small pup, causing his hunger to grow. The small creature gasped and ran off into the bushes. Without realizing it, the rogue was already on his way to fetch the food, never snapping back to reality long enough to warn the Elite to where he may of gone or what he was seeing. Nothing existed here but the hunger that controlled the beast from within.

- End

» Desoto's Departures
» Usurper [Warrior Desoto]
» Usurper [Delta Desoto]
» HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DESOTO <3
» Uncovered Bones [Desoto]

Screaming at the Top of My Lungs [Desoto]

Screaming at the Top of My Lungs [Desoto]

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