welcome to your new hell, Welcome to the Menagerie. Or as we like to call it, Dome Sweet Dome! We are an eight-year strong futuristic shapeshifter and sci-fi creature roleplay, dedicated to bringing you a world unlike any other; a world in which your character has become an experiment and must fight for survival in a domed city, cut off from the rest of the world. Choose to be any animal in your fight for survival in an artificial world built by the Keepers as they subject you to experiments beyond your control. Choose to wander the world inside the walls alone, as a Rogue, or find safety in numbers in one of the groups known as Rings. How will you survive?
60 - 65 ºF
blustery with scattered showers spotty sunshine
YEAR 2309
shift bans.
» Cougars (aka Puma, Mountain Lion, Panther)
» All Tiger Species
» All Lion Species
» All Wolf Species
» African Leopards
group bans.
none.
encouraged !
FEMALE CHARACTERS! create a RETRO or ANTHRO and get 250 CP + a free skill! read me for more info!
last updated: april 19th, 2016
Click on each Ring or Retro group image to view their ranks!
GROUP UPDATES
CARNARING
Jocelyn Edelwolfe is the new Alpha! Seija Mulviene is the new Beta, and Grey is the new Delta. Lead Hunter is now Boone Haywood, Head of Border Patrol is now Noelle Ndango!
FALLENRING
-
FULSIRING
Fulsi has a standing treaty with the Nakoma, granting limited access to their fresh water.
NAKOMA TRIBE
-
ANALOYA PRIDE
a while back, the Analoya suffered a suspicious poisoning of their river, luckily with few casualties; the Bellator are suspected of having taken part in it, and there are whispers that Pride leader Wanderer is talking alliance with the Nilda for access to their clean water.
BELLATOR HERD
As new leader of the Bellator, Loril has instituted some rank changes. See this thread for more information!
LAWAII FLOCK
no updates!
NILDA PACK
no updates!
CARNARING QUICK STATS
ALPHA -- Jocelyn Edelwolfe, Clouded Leopard, played by IronChild
BETA -- Seija Mulviene, Spotted Hyena, played by Seija-chan
DELTA --Grey, Mackenzie Valley Wolf, played by Kriss
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Anna didn't know the last time she had been drank under the table by anyone but the splitting headache as she awoke from a dreamless sleep told her something had gone awry, and drinking was the first thing that came to mind. The only other thing would be loosing in a fight and the devil himself knew she wouldn't loose to anyone, at least in a fair fight, her pride wouldn't allow it. She was too smart to fight a fight she knew she couldn't win, thus she had never lost a proper one.
She heaved a sigh and immediately regretted it as she then inhaled dirt, sand?, through her nose and lips; her eyes watering as she attempted to spit out the grains from her mouth. This was about the same time she came to the realization she couldn't quite move properly, besides being in a place she wasn't familiar with like concrete in the Fulsi territory or even the wooden floor of the Speakeasy. She growled before spitting the last bit of sand she could manage out of her mouth, turning her head as far as she could to see behind her back, her arms snuggly folded together and behind her back was not a normal route for dome goers. She shifted experimentally, the ties feeling plastic almost... zip ties? It was then the smell of the labs was very obvious as she scrunched her nose in displeasure. Oh now everything was starting to make sense.
She now vaguely remembered the reason for her headache was her coming to in the labs and immediately swinging on the first Keeper-looking sap she saw, her strength a little bit under par and she was in a drugged haze but the crack of the white coats jaw was enough to bring laughter bubbling from her lips as she rolled onto her side as she stared up at the sky. "Ah hope iht still 'urts ya sonofabetch!" she yelled between her laughter, a slight wince was from the pulsing headache she began to get before she forced herself to breathe, focus, and look around her.
Before she even took a breath she knew she was in Fallen territory, the rolling dunes and sparse vegetation around for cover telling her she was at least a good hour from the border on any side. She grunted in frustration as she tried to wiggle up into a sitting position, ending up falling onto her back as she winced, her shoulders, wrists and forearms were killing her; and the Keeper restraints weren't helping. She sighed heavily as she rolled onto her side again, a look of determination on her face as she attempted to get to her knees once more - only to fail and land in the sand again.
"UGH!" the yell of frustration scattered any form of life that was within earshot of her she was sure, as she lay there for a second before wiggling about to then use her forehead in the sand as leverage before she pushed her knees into position and managed to sit up; sand how all in her hair and sticking partially to her face as she shook her head, flipping her head back to get her hair out of her face before rubbing her face on her shoulder. "Well at least I managed to .." she paused as a low dark form came into her vision as she slowly turned her head to look in front of her where there was now the presence of some company that definitely wasn't there before. "Awhe hells bells.."
Yes, The Menagerie was a creature that Emmeth Arthur Husher III was familiar with. Most had to adjust to the cruelties and harsh environment that was the normal day in the dome. Back in the world, when he had been a soldier, a Marine – it wasn’t The Normal Life that he was accustomed to. It was The Military Life that he relaxed into, moved through without thought. It was The Civilian Life he’d had to adjust to every time he came home. It was the simple things: Driving on the freeway next to people after blowing up any vehicle within five klicks of the LAV he was commanding, or not reacting on Fourth of July when fireworks went off, and all he could think about was the bombs the enemy dropped on their compound. He always sat facing the door in a restaurant, and knew within seconds how many people were in the building, the basic stats of each person, and the threat they presented. He could recall every face if he had to. It was automatic profiling.
Most the time in the beginning years, the only thing that kept him from flying off the handle was his wife, Sakura. Somehow she just knew when things were becoming too much. She’d take his hand and squeeze, look at him with those velvet brown eyes and say without speaking, You’re here. I’m here. It’s okay. We’re okay. And somehow – magically it would be. He would be alright again. He could breath.
The fact that their town in Alaska wasn’t large certainly helped. He couldn’t have handled a big city fresh off a tour, and often they would take long walks through the forests, with Sakura holding his hand - hers he held in a vice-grip. Sometimes he’d lose himself in those walks, his mind wandering as they walked for hours. He’d panic for just a second when he came ‘round, but she was always there. No matter how far he wanted to walk or how hard he held her hand she was always there – keeping up.
Back then Akane was left with his parents for an afternoon now and then. They loved to get in time with their sassy toddler Granddaughter and it gave Husher and Sakura some much needed time alone. When Akane was older, she would go with them on the walks – running to catch a butterfly, or stooping to investigate a hole. In school when she had shifted the first time it was at random. No one had seen her, and Animal Control had been called about a fox cub on the playground. Husher had driven out to pick up his daughter from Wildlife Rescue who had inexplicably been in the cage instead of the fox cub. In a show of sheer brilliance, Akane had told the wildlife volunteer that she had let the fox go and been trapped in its place. At the time she’d been just a little girl.
When she’d changed into a fox again it was at home, and Husher and Sakura knew then that their daughter was a Shifter. Their lives changed from then on, but their walks never did. Instead, it turned into a family tradition to go walking in the evenings – Akane shifting to have the run of the forest, learning about her second form far more thoroughly than many Shifters had the opportunity to. There were plenty of red fox in the forest, and even if she were seen she’d adopted the uncanny ability to look utterly normal in either form. That seemed so very long ago.
It was these Walks that Husher still took in the evenings, though a now heavily pregnant Akane stayed behind while he patrolled. Sakura somehow seemed with him sometimes in the right moments. Sometimes, he felt nothing but the heat of the desert and the emptiness that was life without her. Sometimes, he just didn’t know what to do with himself at sat and stared across the dunes for hours.
The night had been very cold, and the predawn light colored the tawny-barren world in a muted purple-grey. As the sun set, the sky took on a pale pink and lavender that soon darkened into black overhead, the fading like backlighting the silhouettes of sand dunes and shrubs for miles into the distance.
Husher’s perception of the world was different through wolf’s eyes. Things were more simple, yet in the same instant infinitely more intricate. His senses, the feeling of rightness, the certainty of self, and effortless decryption of nature was not something his human mind could begin to comprehend. He could appreciate it, perhaps marvel over it through an idle hour – but never quite grasp at the wonder.
It was those same grey-blue, sharp lupine eyes that lifted to spy the wriggling form in the distance. Despite the dark umber-black of his fur, he somehow managed to disappear regardless in the darkening dunes. He tread cautiously across the sand to watch what now looked like a human fish out of water. It was not uncommon for him to find all sorts of shifters on their borders. Some he attacked and warned off, some he let go with a warning; some simply ran at the sight of the large dark wolf. This time, the shifter in question had little choice for she was bound and making little progress of it.
His ears flickered as he watched, his low head rising eventually as he meandered out from his hiding place seeming, in essence, to appear from nowhere. With the gusting sqwall of frustration, Husher’s hackles rose and his legs tensed in surprise, his ears, eyes, and nose shifting wearily and eventually – she saw him.
Her reaction was far removed from what he had expected. Awe, hells bells. He blinked, looked around him, and back to her unsure of what he had heard. Deciding she posed little to … okay well no threat currently tied as she was he approached slowly. Watching her flounder was rather amusing, and the closer her drew the more relaxed his pace became. A stone’s throw away he stopped altogether. From here he could smell the Keepers on her, and his head shook with a great sneeze.
“You must have pissed someone off. They weren’t playing nice leaving you like that,” he observed – just this side of amused. His voice was deep, almost toneless if not for the touch of humor that colored a few of his words.
She didn't move when the wolf got closer, she was smarter than that - hell she would hope anyone would be smart enough to try and run from a predator, an animal that thrived on the thrill of the chase and the victory of sinking teeth into prey, especially while your arms were bound in such a way your whole balance would be thrown off trying to run. Besides all that, sand wasn't a park in the park when it came to trailing a blaze of fire in the wake of a sudden and angry four-legged canine. There was almost a heavy silence in the air as their eyes met and stayed connected, his form that closed in towards her always seeming to be in that same breath's distance from her, ever present, ever intimidating amoungst the soft curve of the sand around them.
She could've went on about the million-second moment she had, the slow motion playback that seemed in her head telling her of the expression in his eyes - wild yet calm, alert and aware, animal and human. The not all ebony of his fur, the fibers of different colors that shifted throughout his pelt and the stance of warning he had been in. It was much more detail than she usually even cared to notice - but it usually wasn't your choice when your body went into that 'what-the-hell-I'm-dead' mode and minutes seemed like hours and you could think of the most mundane or the most detailed things. The pounding in her head brought her back, a combination of the sun, Keeper drugs, and dehydration most likely - that was usually the only reason for the feeling of your heartbeat in your head.
Also ... being faced with something that could at least tear the skin from your bones while you were tied up defenseless ... she supposed that could cause some sort of high blood pressure and hearing of ones own breath and heart. Maybe.
She was brought from her dazed state as his head tossed in a sneeze and shiftertongue reached her ears. God almighty he was a shifter. Not a normal, wild animal but a god damned shifter ... or a retro ... but either one would work if she could communicate with the wolf. Her tongue darted out to dry her lips, and also just to try and get moisture back in her mouth by moving it about a bit before the words registered and a grin split across her face.
"Hell yeah ah'd say so considerin' ah left a white coat with eh dislocated, or maybeh even broken, jaw on his smug lil' face," she said with a dry bark at the end, a short little cackle of a laugh that was meant to have a dark tone to it as she blew the hair out of her face, the unruly waves deciding to fall across one side of her face in its annoying way it liked to do. "But lord ah thought you werea real canine, or at least one'a'those Nilda pack .. someof em dont even talk all that much you'd think they couldn't speak shiftertongue ..," she said as she rolled one shoulder, some joint somewhere in that arm popping a little and releasing some aches for but a short instance. "But really .. ah think this is a lil' excessive .. even fer meh," she said as she slightly turned to show off the multiple bindings of zipties around either end next to her elbows and around either wrist of the other hand, and then a few spaced out between. They weren't the thin plastic ones either, they were nicer, wide banded ones that dug into her skin.
"Sooo ah've broke multiple handcuffs before .. s'their own fault givn' meh the strength ta do it," she said as she glanced up and off in a random direction, as if looking up at the Keepers themselves like she did before. She laughed lower, a more natural and unforced chuckle before she turned her green eyes upon the figure before her once more. A softer look than the annoyed one she had worn a moment before, "so ... hows 'bout ah nice gentleman such as yurself help ah lil lady out?" she said with a grin.
… on his smug lil’ face. The mirth of her laughter hit his funny bone. If Husher had been in human form, the side of his mouth would have kicked up. As it was, his eyes alit with humor and his stance shifted as his rump hit the sand, watching and listening as she expressed her relief that he was a shifter, called him a dog, and asked him to help her. A dog. His head tilted, then lowered.
“Lupine, Lil’ Lady, lupine,” he said in a dark tone that matched her own. He’d never called a women ‘lil’ lady’ in his life, but was amused enough to use her own definition for herself. Why the fact that he was a shifter was such a relief to the tied up, defenseless girl tickled at his desire to correct her assumption that he was in any way tame. In interest of teasing her he drew quite near in almost a stalk. Close enough that his hot breath fell across her face.
As a wolf, Husher was massive (as many Tundra Wolves were) the size of a Great Dane, though built entirely differently. He was a predator, a hunter, fashioned by evolution to haul a twelve-hundred pound bison by its nose to the ground. By nature, a Tundra Wolf was considered more aggressive and dangerous than their southern land cousins throughout the world. The stark, unforgiving frosts of Siberia often stole the weaklings in the herd before the pack might get a chance, and as a result they were forced to go after the healthy animals and take them down. That was, if they wanted to eat.
At the shoulder he stood three feet tall, and from nose to tail was longer than a man lying down. Hunting had been decent that season, and as a result he’d filled in through his topline before winter, totaling his weight at around a hundred and thirty-five pounds. In all and up close, he seemed anything but friendly.
It was a precarious balance between the man and the wolf. On border patrol and hunting, the wolf had desires of blood and bone, cracking between his large teeth. His eyeteeth of which were two inches in length. It was Husher as a man that kept those instincts in check, and it was Husher as a man that knew this woman was wasted on posturing.
It was with this knowledge that he broke the intimidation off, and huffed a great breath in her face. His ears flickered as he stepped back. His entire body shook as if he’d been dunked in water and his long, lazy tail swished back and forth.
“What do I get out of it?” he asked suggestively, a large wolfy grin on his face. His tone was friendly, playful, rather than dark or creepy. The fact that she likely felt like crap eased his desire to prolong her suffering too much. However, Husher was well aware of women that got what they wanted too quickly through feminine whiles. He simply couldn't help it.
She blinked at him as he glowered a response to her and realized he had taken offense to the domestic breed she labeled him as. "Or canine if tha gener'l term suits ya more. Or .. ya know ... wolf," she said with a bit of a grin and a small glint in her eyes. She had leaned a little forward unknowingly, making the distance just a bit smaller - and her heart just a little faster.
Though as she had leaned closer he had stalked forward, her eyes flickering to his paws as she strode slowly forward and as her mind registered this fact her body reacted by slowly arching back from her waist, not quite being able to shift from her kneeling position until she was on the verge of falling. The hot gusts of air hit her face as she let her eyes square off to meet his own - her body language spoke of making the distance but not being afraid. Her shoulders squared and her eyes unwaivering, the picture of composure even though her heart would give her away instantly.
Her eyes squinted slightly at the breath of hot air, dry with a hint of whatever smoked meat he probably had before or during his patrol or what-have-you. His stance relaxed and as he stepped back she watched, her body slowly moving to straighten as she arched a brow in curiosity. Mayhaps he wasn't gonna eat her face off? He seemed a little ticked at her miss-wording but pretty much it had become a thing of the past in two shakes of his fluffy tail.
"Well hunny, iht all depends on yur willingness an' ... genetic gifts ... as it were," she said with a wink and a wide grin. "Ah mean, ya could also jus' be niice n' call this ah favr and ah'll owe ya one," she said as her eyes glinted a bit. It felt like they were at a bar, sipping drinks and trying their hardest to rouse the other with just their words. Whether it was teasing or aiming for an actual end to the night would only be found out through time -- but mostly they drank of each others energy and couldnt help but let it linger just a little bit more.
"Ah'm pretty handy with ... a'laht of things," she said with a small crinkle of her nose as she tilted her head strategically to get her hair out of her face this time, instead of trying to flip her head or even attempt to blow it out of the way again.
Genetic gifts? Oh he could comment on ‘genetic gifts’, but, as she continued speaking he let the jest go. She winked and grinned. It was a nice change of pace, no spitting, no name calling. A contest of wills – they could have been anywhere but they weren’t. They were in the Menagerie … and those asshole Keepers had dumped her off in the middle of a desert - defenseless.
Pretty handy with a lot of … okay Emmeth get a grip, at this point anything that comes out of that mouth could be an innuendo. Despite himself he sighed and rolled his eyes in defeat.
With an amused huff he stepped back and shifted into a tall and tanned human man that was squatting near the tied girl. Over a decade of uncompromising military duties had always kept him muscled and fit, but it was the severe years in the Menagerie that had melted away any bit of fat or pretentious weight on his frame. None the less, even in this state and in his mid-thirties he was attractive, his shoulders set and sure, and without design managed to hold a protective and competent air.
“Well just call this part of an outreach program,” he said as he hauled out his buck-knife. The rising sun glinted off the blade as he shifted behind her to start cutting the ties. A single eye twitched the smallest amount … her wrists were purple lined - as, he was sure, her ankles would be beneath her pant legs, and silently he was thankful he had found her instead of anyone else.
“Not gonna jump me being a lion or tell me your Carna and ‘I’ll pay’ are you?” he said jokingly. He couldn’t quite say why but he got the feeling she wouldn’t be interested in a fight. He could smell the light sweat, the old smell of fear, old blood, the Keepers sterility, and something almost sweet. He let out a short breath of effort as he freed her ankles. Damn, they were tight.
“Have to say,” he continued casually as he stood back to give her some room. “Brawling at six am isn’t exactly my favorite thing to do.”
She shifted about as she tried to get a read on him, her bare feet tingly in the sand; she figured from sitting on them combined with the fact they were tied was probably not the best combination in the world. Bowing her head slightly she rolled her shoulders a little to relieve some tension again before she looked up to him, by this time his frame had changed - all the better to look at, she thought with the old school story in mind. All that was missing was a little red hood on her head. Honestly, if she wasn't so exhausted she might be a bit more interested than normal, but as it were he seemed like he was going to help her; and that was a big show of character in her eyes considering the harsh place they all lived in.
"Oh? That's where you reach out n' ah don't resis', righ'?" she said as she chuckled a little, her head turning slightly as she followed him with that knife until she couldn't see him behind her. She felt him though, his presence palpable even though as much as she wanted to crane her neck - she was too tired, sore and a number of other things she was trying not to even think about at the moment.
One by one, as the ties snapped free, she wiggled her fingers, sighing heavily in a bit of relief as the last one was undone and her arms were released to fall to her sides. She winced a bit, her shoulders aching intensely from being held in the same position for who knows how long, the fingers of one hand gently rubbing around the wrist of her other as she moved to stand on her knees so he could release her feet as well. She kinda fell to her bum of to the side, her legs swinging around so she could put them infront of her.
"Lion? No no. Ah ain't nothin but uh garbage diggin mongrel," she said with a grin, "somethin' ya might even wanna snack on fer dinner. Nah, ah do much more damage in this form than ah do in mah four-legged critter one I was .. blessed with," she said as she lifted her hands apart to quote the air around 'blessed', her voice laced with sarcasm. "Also, ah'm kinda offended ya called me one o' those fire-lovin' piece's of shit," she said as she refered the the third Ring of order she had a deep hatred for. "I come from the city - Fulsi Hunter," she paused as she looked up to him as she held out her hand, "Anna Adrell. An' fer what it's worth, I hardly ever fight unless some skeeze decides he's gonna just get his way tryin' ta get in my pants. Granted .. I might make an exception for ya," she said with a small laugh that was laced with exhaugstion.
Damn, she just wanted to eat and maybe sleep for a week.
Critter. She was so southern it was almost a pun. He’d been sucked into an awkward scene of a re-re-remake of Oklahoma. Not that many people these days watched the oldies from way-back-when.
Ah’m kinda offended ya called me one o’those fire-loving pieces of shit, she retorted magnificently. She swore like a sailor and said please and thank you like a saint. He liked her instantly.
Anna Adrell, he let the rest go. No. She was a pretty thing even beaten and exhausted, hell maybe even beautiful beneath the blood and dirt. Her full lips and full everything else would have made a delightful Sunday afternoon to any man with a pulse, but Husher removed himself from the suggestion. There were more important things to worry over. He put his hand out in a friendly manner, both to help her up and to make acquaintances.
“Emmeth Husher,” he said politely. Quite naturally, she slapped and grabbed the middle of his forearm as he did hers and hauled her to her feet. Usually it was more of a man’s ‘in good brotherhood’ kind of greeting but somehow it was automatic, as if that was how they always said hello. Husher only distantly noticed. He was more interested in getting out of the heat. “Call me Husher,” he said once she was on her feet – if not a bit precariously. He lowered his sun glasses to his eyes, then squinted up at the light that had just reached over the dunes. It was gonna get hot.
“Well, I can’t just leave you here. What would you like to do? Fulsi is a long hike that way,” he said and pointed a direction without doubt. “Fallen camp is that way,” he pointed the opposite direction. “There is a small outcropping of boulders that way not far from here,” he said pointing nearer to the direction before when mentioning the Fulsi. “I’m not a huge fan of helping strangers, especially Fulsi but they have been pretty damn quiet for a few months now. Well that, and I guess I have a soft spot for ‘garbage diggin mongrels’,” he almost dead-panned. “What’ll it be?” he asked, as if a bartender waiting on a lady at the bar.
Anna let herself be hauled up, using as much of the muscles in her body to aide in the righting of herself as she could allow. Gritting back a groan of both exhaustion and relief from stretching said muscles after who knows how long of laying there on the ground, she let a grin pull back chapped lips. Her large almond shaped eyes looked up at him as her hand came up to sheild them from the sun as she turned in the direction first to where he pointed where the Fulsi land was. Then back again as he pointed in the opposite direction to Fallen lands.
"Ahs much ofa gurl ah wanna be n' settle fer a croppin' and a fast trek before gettin' ta sit. Ah'll bet there's more shade n' a decent place to rest back at yur homestead?" she said with a wave in the direction of the Fallen. "Ah mean .. that was an invitation back to yur place, righ'?" she said as she wiggled her brows, maybe a bit sluggishly before she yawned and then coughed from stretching the muscles of her throat so much.
She covered her mouth with her wrist and then rolled the joint slowly, bringing her other hand over to gently rub the skin there gently. Basically, it wasn't one of her better days in the dome - that was for damn sure. Her skin was beginning to cool, the sun to her back and warming her neck and yet her front was chilled like a fall day. The desert was no picnic to those not accustomed to it for sure - and she didn't really feel like finding out when she wasn't a hundred percent.
She had let her hands pat herself down in habit, finding no familiar items on her person. She hoped and assumed her things were back in Fulsi territory - even though she felt naked at this point. No weapon, no tools, no nothing.
"Lead de way n' ah shall follow," she said as she motioned towards the Fallen.
Invitation. Husher couldn’t stifle the sideways grin that lifted one side of his face as he chucked and nodded, his eyes lighting up behind his dark sunglasses.
“Sure,” he said easily, turned, and headed south. She followed without further banter and little was said between them for a long while. However, as the sun rose higher their pace slowed a little, then a little more. She was played out.
Husher snuck peaks at the sassy blonde. She was dehydrated, sore, exhausted, and too stubborn to admit it. It was only when she almost entirely ate sand and his hand shot out to catch her shoulder did she stop, panting. She’d lasted four hours, and they were only halfway to camp. Had he been wolf, he’d have made the distance by now. This slow going was going to get them killed.
“So about this mongrel shape you were talking about,” he ventured as he pulled his canteen, took a sip of the precious liquid, and handed her the bottle. He hefted his compound bow, the arrows at his back giving a dull rattle. “Small enough to carry? At this rate, we’re gonna fry.”
He supposed she might be too proud to let him carry her; many shifters would be including himself. Distantly it occurred to him that he could simply shift and ditch her, but it was a passing personal preservation strategy that was formed and instantly dismissed. It simply wasn’t an option.
The other was to keep going at this pace, but as he said, they’d fry. He was hoping she would take the offer. That was, if she was small enough for him to carry. As she was now he could shoulder carry her a few miles maybe, but the heat would get to him.
Distantly, he wondered if she might be small enough to hitch-hike pony style in his wolf form. Though she might be too tired to hang on. She seemed to be contemplating, looking to the dunes, the sky, then back at him – assessing, perhaps, how exactly she would feel about being carried.
As they walked towards, what she hoped, was Fallen camp, she realized slowly that it was hopefully in her favor for a miracle. Her muscles that had only begun to be sore from the treatment they had received, began to burn somewhere a half mile back past the cacti that looked like a comfy bed that she used to have back in civilization.
She kept swallowing, sucking on her tongue and trying to draw moisture out from her mouth to swallow and wet what she could, the term 'sandpaper' was used lightly to describe how her throat felt although her lips remained shut. Sand ... the freaking sand, the ever moving, shifting, non-solid peice'o-crap earth that made her equilibrium feel as if the center-point was based on a spindle used in kids games and holidays ... It almost seemed to come rushing to her face as her body began to feel like jello.
"So about this mongrel shape..."
She lifted her head, at that point after almost eating sand, and not mindlessly trudging forward; she felt her bodies want to rest, her minds resilience to keep going, and her lungs steadily going to attempt to replenish the drive she needed to continue and not slow him down. Sometimes she was too bull-headed for her own good.
" .. we're gonna fry."
"Ehh ...," She immediately knew he was right - and as her lip sucked in under her top teeth to chew on the tender flesh in a slightly stressed moment of thought, she found herself contemplating whether or not she'd play to this damsel in distress moment. "Ah'mean, sure anyone would melt lookin' aht you darlin'" she said in a half-attempt at speaking lightly of the situation. She let her mind wander as one hand grasped the canteen in which, she thought was a tight hold, before she found his hand guiding her other hand to support the other side. The thing was heavier than she ever thought it could be as she looked down to it, her biceps straining as she brought it to her mouth, sipping slowly as to not overstimulate her body even though she craved to down the whole thing right then and there.
She sighed as the container was lowered, her eyes closing as her arms dropped, mindlessly one hand screwing the lid on before she dropped it. She handed it back before she looked at him, searched his face behind his glasses as he seemed to be looking off in the distance. He shifted then, and she realized he was looking at her as he tipped his head down and looked at her over his glasses. There was a long moment of silence as her brows came to knit over her eyes and they flickered down to the sand as she chewed the inside of her cheek. "Well ... ah don't suppose iht'd look good on ya if mah rescued self witherr'd ahway inta nuthin' out here when y'u were kind enough ta help meay out," she said before avoiding his gaze.
There were no more words as she shifted into her little grey-furred-self and looked up at him with oddly-placed blue eyes behind a mask of black. The raccoon waited patiently for the man to shift into the lupine he was when they first met and let her climb up onto his back. She noted he even stooped a little to give her an easier time to jump up and silently thanked him as her little paws gripped his fur and her head bowed into the dark mess of fine threads that made up his pelt. Being this close to someone you got to smell them and take a little piece of them into your consciousness.
He really held the desert in him, dry and humid, the texture in his fur spoke of his home too even though he was not built for such a place. There were undertones of soft metallic as well as aged wood and even smoke from fires. She fought to not fall surrender to the darkness that was blissful rest. It was not sleep at this point, it was much needed therapy to her muscles and mind.
She didn't remember making it to the camp as she fell surrender to the darkness.
The side of his mouth kicked up at her weak joke, but it spoke to her spunk and mental durability that even in this state she was still kicking. Behind his dark glasses his eyes softened as they rarely did these days. In some ways, she reminded him of his girls back home. Tough. Not willing to be the victim, but not stubborn or willful enough to insist upon their ego in a bad situation – he hoped. Once she finished her shaking sips she seemed to deliberate, and he released his expectant regard to look across the mass of waste and sand dunes it would take to get home.
After she shifted into her animal form, he had to smile and shake his head. Raccoon, he should have guessed. She seemed still keen, and he blinked a moment before he realized she waited for him to shift as well. Maybe she thought the same as he had just moments before – they would cover even faster ground as a unit. Within a flash suddenly, there stood a large dark wolf his large web-toed paws that all of his lupine-kind inherited caught the sand and held as he dipped to ease her scramble up his shoulder to his back. He noticed, whether it be comfort in his presence or, more likely, her pure exhaustion that she seemed to hold no fear of him now. It was no mean feat … many in his own Ring still grew weary when he drew near. It didn’t help that they had seen him in battle.
She nestled for a few moments until she was still and, taking it as consent that she was ready, he moved down the steep dune - his hind end taking the brunt of the work to slow their progress until they hit the harder level surface of the cracked wasteland, and they were off.
At first, he moved in a ground covering trot that could cover an easy 60 miles in 10 hours – but the movement seemed too bouncy for the tired and rather light creature that had scooted from between his working shoulder blades to just behind them – a better choice for smoothness of travel. He could feel her raccoon-nails digging into his pelt with alarm. He then moved into an easy lope. It took more work but it was a touch faster anyway and they were working on a time limit before the heat of the day. At this pace he could cover between 100-150 miles in 10 hours but it would kill him in this heat. Then again, if he didn’t get them back they’d be dead anyway. Had he been alone, he’d have been home a while ago. He regretted not simply taking her to the hide-out he knew of they would have been there by now. But it was not changeable decision now, and he could feel her adjust herself until she moved if not comfortably, manageably with his rolling strides.
She hung on that way for two hours, well into the heat of the day before her little raccoon fingers let go and her limp body was suddenly airborne. Husher slammed on the breaks - his sharp claws digging into the cracked earth. Wheeling he bounded the few yards back to her where she lay face down, furry arms outstretched in the sand. He paused for a moment in thought, panting heavily from the two hour long lope. The sun seared in the sky and his grey eyes closed sleepily with the desire to rest. He couldn’t. If he did they’d be dead. It didn’t matter whether it was winter or summer. Hot was hot.
He shifted into his human form and pushed his sunglasses into place; he needed hands as he picked up the lifeless raccoon. Unscrewing his canteen, he took a long pull, then dumped the rest of it over the overheated creature’s face and belly to cool her. Her light eyes opened a moment, and somehow even in a raccoon face she snarked at him with a hiss but then, unwillingly, she fell unconscious again. Good, she wasn’t dead. He cradled her in one arm for a few minutes as he stretched his legs and took a breath. Calculating where they were and where the Fallen was … Yep. This was not going to be a fun trip for either of them, not that it was Christmas to begin with.
An hour later, a shout arose from the Fallen watch. As most of the Fallen knew both him and his wolf form quite well, it was no secret who he was when the black wolf came bolting into camp at top speed. In his mouth dangled something that looked dead. Slowing to a trot Husher, quite literally, dropped to the ground in the shade next of the first building, his ribcage expanding and compressing twice in size as he heaved giant pants. His pink tongue lolled, covered in sand and fur. Across his forepaws was …. a raccoon.
“Not a kill, a rescue. Water, please, water … “ he gasped in a hoarse whisper. His feet trembled from the effort. He’d made the last dozen miles in a mad dash through the sands. “She fainted,” it was impressive the sounds of his breath that gusted in and out, cooling his body and supply much needed oxygen to his muscles. He’d be okay, but he wouldn’t have minded taking a nap under water.
Good ol’ Lara The Italian Terror waddled over with a large bowl of water, then smacked him roundly across the ears with her wooden spoon when he began spilling half of it on the ground with eagerness. “Tired no excuse for waste! Animals! All of them!” she shouted at the sky, mumbled something in Italian, then disappeared. It was her way of showing concern, he’d learned, but lapped up the water more carefully anyway. Several people tried to take away The Anna Raccoon who, laying across his legs on her side between the bowl and his chest, was drenched. She flinched at first even in sleep, then seemed to relax into the mix of cooling of water, wolf slobber, and grainy-wet sand. Husher’s ears went back, warning them away until Akane showed up. He didn’t expect Anna to be grateful waking up amongst strangers, wolf-slobber or no.
“Dad?” a voice called. Husher’s ears perked when a slip of a girl with long dark hair and a young face pushed through the crowd. Youth turned to sinew in an instant. “Move! Can’t you even get out of a pregnant girl’s way?” she shamed. Immediately evident was the medicine-ball sized mound at her middle that her shirt stretched over. “Get outta here, all of you mind your business. Dad!” Akane’s concerned light eyes took hold as she lowered to the ground without grace or care to kneel next to her father and …. the chew toy he’d brought back.
“Iiiiyaaa … Are you okay?” she cooed.
“I’m alright. Rest, water. Take Anna, she’s not doing well. She’s just got back from … a visit,” he warned. His voice particular in a way that told her the raccoon had come back from the keepers. “She’s … fiery so don’t get burned.”
“Gotchya,” Akane said, kneeled to kiss her wolf-dad’s head, then carried the unconscious Anna to his train car. She knew once Husher had regained some strength, he’d be along shortly.
Indeed, the afternoon didn’t cool off. Akane had given The Anna Raccoon a few ‘to-the-neck’ dunks in their washing pale to clear the sand and slobber, hand cleaned her face and head, then brought her in soggy to a pallet of old wash-rags and the like. It was so hot this time of day; Akane simply let the critter air dry - which she did in time for Husher to show up a human … limping.
“Hey there, anything yet?” he asked as he hauled himself onto the lip of the train car.
“Nah, she’s sleeepin’. Probly needs a lot of it,” she said her eyes flickering to the motionless corpse and back. “How are you?”
“Eh, sore but I’ll live. Thanks for taking her. I figured if she woke she’d at least smell something familiar. She woke up recently in a bad fix, I didn’t want her thinking she’d woken up in another one,” he reasoned. It had happened to him and it was not something you got used to.
“Where’d you find her?” Akane asked as she settled next to him letting her feet dangle. Her hands rested on her large belly as she yawned and settled.
“Borderlands tied up like a present. She’s Fulsi, but … for some reason she didn’t want to go back there… “ he said, then looked out across the Fallen too the hellish vapors of heat that rolled up from the desert. Akane watched him for a long moment. He was a kind man, but he wasn’t in the habit of bringing strangers home. Not since Cole, and well – she was another story altogether.
“She must be nice,” Akane ventured, either forgetting or dismissing what he'd said earlier about getting burned. She was surprised when Husher puffed one sarcastic laugh with an opened mouthed smile and rose a brow.
“Well…” he began and stopped. There were stirrings behind them and in unison, the turned to spy the raccoon coming back to life.
TAGS: ANNA , AKANE | WORDS: 1,500+ | OOC: LIVE MAS!
She don't know if she slept all that much, as she began to fight the way back to the world of the living her body protested strongly. She had unconsciously moved in her sleep and it sent such a jolt of aching pain through her that she shifted on the spot. She sucked in her lip as one eye was squeezed shut and the other was slit open .. her hair was half damp against her forehead and the pallet lined with thin rags. Her large hips protested against the super flat area she lay on as she scrunched her eyes shut and hauled herself into a sitting position with her legs over the side of her very short bed.
Raking a shaky hand through her damp locks she only got about halfway through before they nestled themselves a mess as she sighed, resorting to squeezing the water out of her hair and letting it drip down over her back in a momentary relief. She didn't know how the sand-dwellers did it ... ah shi't ..
She let her eyes pop open, taking a second to adjust again in the low light vs outside afternoon light. "Ah feel lik' a roadkill rug brough't out back, stretch'd n' hung and hit with ah stick," she said as she rolled her tongue out, slowly wetting the insides of her mouth as she rolled her neck, cracking it a fel times as she used both hands now to at least get her hair pushed back along her head to hang down behind her and away from her face.
"Ju'a 'ave fun totin' this critt'r aroun' lik ah rag doll?" she asked as she pushed herself up to stand with a groan, hands using her thighs as support and almost falling over from a headrush before she made her way towards the entrance to the .. she looked around. She assumed traincar since she knew there were tracks that ran into the Fallen area she had come across before - never had she thought she'd be this far into the sandlands.
She smiled a bit crookedly and lazily as she saw the female sitting next to him - quite young from the looks of it. Very cute and ... "ohmylawrd," she said as she then paused, foot in mouth moment as she looked to the beach ball shaped belly the other had. "Darn lil' lady ihf yew ain't smugglin' ah nice wat'rmelon under t'at lil' shir' oof yurs," she said as she laughed hoarsely. "Better bae cautious aroun' these parts what with food bein' a hot commodity n all," she said with a grin as she plopped down a little harder than she intended to on the edge of the traincar. "Honestly, sorry ah gaped. Iht's jus' ah rare thing ta see in teh dome and I put my foot n' muh mouth more of'n 'n not," she said as she looked to Husher before she grabbed the back of his neck weekly.
"But as fer you mangy-ass smelly lupine .." she said as she squeezed the back of his neck a little bit and pushed against him. "Thanks," she said as she leaned back and let her arms catch her so she could lounge, her overalls still damp over her torn off green shirt that fell over her upper torso underneath it all.
