SUPERSTITION!

[Tain Rosdahl]

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[atrb=background,http://usera.ImageCave.com/Ravenz/sixingold/taintable2.jpg] Tain's day began, to his mild confusion, upside-down. The rough edge of a crate dug into his back like a knife, throbbing with the promise of indescribable pain should he be so stupid as to even think about twitching a muscle. Sportingly, he attempted to sit up. "Holy fu-AAAAAAAH!" Six feet, several seconds, a gratuitous crunch, and a not entirely manly scream later, Tain found himself reunited with the ground. A short but creative slew of insults in rapid-fire Spanish shot through his mind as he struggled to sit up, a thing made difficult by the hot-iron knot every muscle of his back was doing it's damnedest to impersonate. His teeth ground together with a vibrating squeal as he suffered for a long moment, then opened the metaphorical floodgates in his chest and let the energy swell through him, soothing the pain to a murmur. Even after months of being in possession of the strange power he found it impossible to comprehend, regardless of his form-changing abilities. After a short minute, the fog of sleep went the way of the pain, and Tain cracked opened his eyes. And met the eyes of a person's face inches above his own. Tain promptly choked on a scream and swung out wildly with his right arm, smashing through the mirror that had fallen forward during his experiment with gravity. Shards rained down on his head, shoulders, and arms, and scored thin lines in his skin that beaded with red. "What...." he trailed off, then scrambled gracelessly to his feet and shook the glass from his person. "Seven years, as if." He could practically hear Dalton chiding him for breaking the mirror. Bad luck indeed, in five years he would be free of this place; freed by an army, by lack of funding, by something. In short order he'd dug his way out of the back corner he'd landed in, climbing over an old canoe and ducking under a ladder before reaching the open area. Sunlight slanted from the cracked Eastern rafters and showed off his full-body covering of dust and smeared blood, a thing he addressed with a few half-hearted swipes of his hands. Filthy and too cranky to care, he trudged out into the disgustingly cheerful morning, pale eyes narrowing to slits against the blazing light. It wasn't more than half an hour after dawn, and the air was still brisk, though rank with the tang of ocean. He glanced in the direction of the sewer entrance, but found the option of going down into the tunnels unappealing. Winchester and Doxx were on shift, and Py... Well. the object of his theatrical affections had spent the night with a pretty brunette. He'd taken one look at the unabashedly flirting pair and made his sullen way straight back out of the tunnels, forgoing dinner. He was supposed to have a 'thing' for the man, after all, and passive aggressive jealousy was easier than walking over and declaring the Hunter his territory. Besides, it would be awkward if Ackerman told him to get lost. Even as he watched a hunting patrol left at a lazy jog, veering slightly to meet him. Tessa, a jaguar sporting a luxurious black pelt with shadowed spots, trotted past him with an affectionate yowl that he answered with a grin and a wave. The two had become rather good friends in the past month after she was mauled by wild boar, and Tain spent a solid two weeks of morning shifts making sure she healed up right. Once ten feet away she paused with a sudden thought, then twisted back around to give him silky look, tail-tip twitching in thought. "We're short a patch, Zakk had an emergency," she explained, giving him an expectant look. Tain sighed, adopting an overworked and tragic expression that didn't get so much as a whisker-twitch from the sable cat. "Yeah, yeah, I'm coming," he drawled, and fell into step behind Tessa, who'd already resumed her pace, smug with her addition to the group. Four hours later, and Tain was, if possible, more filthy, exhausted, and hungry enough to eat his own shoe. Both of his shins sported a colorful splotch of bruises from slipping on wet stone, an irregular red line wandered from his cheek to his ear from where he tumbled backwards down a forested hill, and his right ankle was badly sprained from a badger hole. He'd stumbled every ten feet, suffered the ground giving way, sinkholes, an attack by a quail. The hunters had asked him, seriously, what voodoo priest he'd offended, and kept their distance. In a show of brilliance they'd left him to watch the camp while they set traps and chased game accordingly, and Tain slumped gratefully back against an oak. He got fifteen glorious seconds of rest before there was the odd sound of ground compressing immediately beside him, and he twisted toward the sound. A Keeper stood there, rifle raised. "Couldn't you have come before the trek?" He complained, and with a soft pop, the world faded out. The next thing he knew was heat, and the soft smell of lush spring grass. Groggily he pushed himself to his hands and knees, then worked his jaw when he became aware of the medicinal tang on his tongue. Flashes of... something came back to him, triggered by the taste, and he looked down with dismay at the black, red, and green bruises around his wrists. He didn't want to think about what they'd done to him this time, though the raw feeling in his core told him is was going to find out sooner or later. With a grunt of effort he pushed himself to his feet, weight on his left foot, and surveyed his drop zone. Grasslands rolled like a sea over banks and knolls, lapping the edge of a forest a half-mile to the South. He glanced around, then down to his swollen ankle, then back to the forest edge, and scowled. The Keepers were not nearly as funny as they thought they were. With a groan, he started to heal himself, ignoring the bruises and focusing only on his ankle. It was going to be a long walk home. ----- invites; reserved! ooc; the required FAIL! thread

[rhino]

Rhino or rather Saa, not that anyone knew how to say his name correctly or even worse yet scream it it correctly, was doing his regular rounds that day. It wasn’t being a very eventful day either, just a cloudless, peopleless, boring day. In fact so far nothing worth noting had happened other than the fact that Ajani’s behind had been especially fine that day. However Saa couldn’t exactly report that without having to deal with a small antelope trying to gore him and while Saa was almost willing to risk death at the hands of someone half his size, something told Saa that like most of the Bellator, Ajani wasn’t into the same gender nor another species. That meant he only had chance in hell at getting laid. It was a pity really and it also meant that Saa would have to really work today unless he wanted to get his ass kicked sideways by the ever beautiful Oni. Why was the group of frolicking prey animals so violent? He might as well have pretended to be puny human and hung out with the Fallen instead. Saa kinda thought baskets were cool. They like held stuff or something.

With a small huff of irritation, Saa shifted, dropping into the much taller from this point of view grass. He found that it was a hell of a lot easier to sneak up on things like trespassers if they couldn’t see you coming from a mile away. Besides Tempest had let those little snakes and bunnies and other things that were smaller than the size of his foot and easy to squish, join the Bellator now. What kind of trouble would he be in if he accidently stepped on them? Not to mention wiping all that blood and guts off would really be a pain. Speaking of pains, Saa spotted a movement in the grass ahead of him. Thankfully it was moving away, at least. Yet the scent that eventually drifted over to him as Saa drew closer was enough to make his heart start racing.

His hand went to his spear and he crouched low, slowing making his way towards the Carna. Saa’s stomach churned as he drew nearer, the corners of his mouth moving downwards in a scowl. Now he wasn’t above letting a shifter peacefully pass through the Meadow Lands, especially if they were as handsome as this particular one. However he’d heard things, seen them even, and Saa was convinced that anyone who condone what the Carna did, was not out for peace. So Saa moved quickly, not wanting any of the smaller and more venerable Bellator to confront the beast. He threw his spear first, trusting his aim to at least glance the man, and then he rushed forward to cut the shifter off. Saa was pleased to see the way the creature limped. It meant that he wouldn’t have a runner on his hands, not as if there was anywhere for him to run when the Nilda and the Analoya were surrounding them. If that shifter went wounded into those lands, the Carna would be torn to pieces and Saa was just fine with that. “And what do you think you’re doing, Carna? Come to fetch your Alpha, snacks?”

[Tain Rosdahl]

[bg=413747][atrb=width,450,true][atrb=border,0,true] He'd just about gotten the tendon under control when there was a loud hiss that sent him leaping sideways through the air with a startled yelp, though admittedly it was rather more of a jerking stumble. His eyes flashed panickedly down in anticipation of a rattlesnake only to feel a blaze of pain tear through the side of his left ear and across his cheekbone in a flash, and a moment later he tripped on his lame leg and landed gracelessly on his ass. "OW!" He yowled, slapping a hand automatically to his bleeding cheek and twisting around. "You could'a-WOAH!" To say he had not been expecting a large, scary looking man booking it toward him would have been an understatement. Tain very well might have sat there staring at him in complete bewilderment had the throbbing in his cheek not reminded him that he was not friendly, and he hurriedly scrambled to his feet as the man stopped, then spoke. He did his best not to stare like an idiot, though he rather suspected he failed. "Oh, yes. They sent me, greatest of hunters." Perhaps sarcasm was unwise, but he was malcontent, exhausted, and presently incapable of anything broaching on the concept of politeness. Had he been in any shape to, he would have followed his statement with a lewd gesture, shifted, and made excellent use of his swifter form. As it was, he didn't suppose a limping three-legged hobble would inspire much awe. Not that it wasn't tempting, mind, and Tain was rather glad he was between the man and his spear. He held both hands up in something akin to surrender, and tried to look nonthreatening, taking slow steps backwards. "So... if you'd just look the other way for a minute or so, I'll get out of your hair?" ------ ooc;; quickposts you said, yes? 83

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