get dunked on
Character Bios
Character Bios
Quote
Papyrus is rattling his bones.
Plays 7
PLAYS Vantus, Lanie,& Flint
|
Post by Zombie on Jun 3, 2016 8:27:43 GMT
Fire crackled and embers lazily popped before drifting to the heated ground. The chamber was illuminated faintly in a red; crystals protruding from the cavern wall and floor giving off a dull glow. Chest rose and fell steadily as the Sire slumbered on his bed of pelts. A jerk of a paw or twitch of his tail the only movement. The movements signified his descent into dreams, but they went unnoticed. Two Brutes were still at the entrance of the chamber. They're gaze narrowed and deadly; surely scaring off anyone from disturbing the tyrant from his rest.
Orange gaze darted about fitfully; and the ashen hued canine found himself clawing towards the ground suspended in front of him. The forest was dark, thick fogged wrapping about his limbs the moment his paws contacted the soil. The world flickered, phasing in and out of existence with another more serene looking one. One where the world was bathed in light and the trees colored shades of reds and pink. Jaws parted wordlessly and Vantus found his vocals dying the moment he attempted to speak. The ground seemed to crumble, repeatedly morphing between lush grass and sludge-like mud. It felt as if he was being tossed around and in a instant the chaos calmed.
Vantus found himself standing in a large meadow. A sea of green expanded endlessly and the breeze carried with it the scent of lavender. The sky above was painted in soft pastels, wispy clouds drifting lazily through it. A faint mist swirled around the male's paws as he continued forward. "The hell is this?" Brows furrowed in confusion as he took in the sights. The infected canine had never seen this place before. It wasn't possible to even fathom this up in his imagination, the strange world was too vivid. He'd heard tales from elders as a whelp and the occasional Fidelis he happened to come in contact with. Had all of his work finally paid off? Were the rituals and sacrifices actually worth something? Maybe he'd pleased them enough to be allowed a glimpse into this world.
Questions swarmed the Sire's mind. Were all deceased brought here, even infected? Surely they had to be if he was within the world of Celestials himself. He hadn't died though.. what was the purpose of being here? The wind picked up; carrying with it the countless echo;'ed whispers of voices. It was as if they were answering the canine, but he couldn't understand what they were staying. The vocals were too soft,; too muddled together. They sounded familiar, but also foreign at the same time. Shaking his head briefly he paused his steps. What was he supposed to do while visiting this land anyways?
|
|
|
|
Post by Star on Jun 3, 2016 9:15:32 GMT
Death was an entirely bizarre concept. What must it have been like to view death as it was truly intended. The bringer of utmost fear, the splitter of family units, the final act so many tried to avoid. It slithered its ebony fingers all throughout the plague lands, taking relentlessly and as it pleased. It left so many in ruin, so many in agony. And yet for others, it was the opposite.
It was instead, an escape, a release. It took all the pain away as opposed to dealing it. It removed all tribulations instead of adding more. It was backwards, a removal from Hell to an actual, functioning world. How strange it must have been to view it otherwise, to actually be frightened of it.
A sigh trickled from the older brute’s mouth, his thoughts breaking with the swirling mist encasing him. Perhaps an even stranger concept was the foreign coherence filling his brain. This certainly was a wondrous place, wherever it was. He had heard tales from canines and felines alike, speaking of a heavenly place where ancestors roamed. Not once had he pictured himself running in their pawsteps. He thought himself to be too insane, too far gone, too demonized to be accepted.
And yet here was, amidst the emerald grasses and amber trees, feeling and thinking in ways he hadn’t before. The clarity of his mind rivaled that of the many pristine pools dotting the land. The strength in his body matched that of the sturdy tree trunks surrounding him. The steadiness he carried was as gentle as the sweet breeze blowing through his coal fur. He was himself again, freed from the constricting chains of the virus. He could interact with the fellow spirits around him. He could actually look forward to rising every single day.
But despite being in a world close to heaven, there was still a pang he felt in his chest. Because in letting the void consume him, in letting it take him to worlds less terrorized, he left his son behind. Erebus was savoring the freedom, sure. But with pure emotions back in his system, with untainted feelings, his heart ached every time he thought of Vantus.
His kin wasn’t doing all too terrible though. Vantus had taken his place as leader, and ruled the Caedis tribe without mercy, not taking shit from anyone. He was definitely well off, his head on as straight as an infected’s could possibly be. Still, Erebus fretted, and wished a better life for his son.
Because no one deserved to succumb to the wrenching effects of the virus.
Again, Erebus gave his head a shake, softly smiling to himself. He had the tendency to get carried away with his thoughts now, what with them being restored. Knowing he couldn’t remain stoic however, he slowly arose and gave his limbs a stretch. It was always worth wandering the dreamlike lands, seeing what new wonders he could stumble upon next. His heavy form padded through the tall grasses, the mist parting around body as he went along. The usual gentle voices and soft scents were taken in, calming him. But as he trotted deeper and deeper into the plentiful foliage, something struck him. Something new in these lands, but all too familiar to the male.
The unmistakable scent of his son.
Erebus slowed to a halt, trying to come to his senses. Had he just imagined it? Was the smell lingering in his nose because Vantus had also been lingering in his mind? Perplexed, the grey lupe stilled, waiting for the outcome.
|
|
get dunked on
Character Bios
Character Bios
Quote
Papyrus is rattling his bones.
Plays 7
PLAYS Vantus, Lanie,& Flint
|
Post by Zombie on Jun 3, 2016 10:14:12 GMT
Was time a concept in this realm the deceased called home? The sky was as unchanging as stone. The breeze remained calm and the air held a gentle warmth that wasn't uncomfortable at all. It was a change the infected wasn't used to; the placid caress of the wind through his pelt. It was foreign, but not unpleasing to Vantus; if anything the difference was welcomed.
Grass parted around him as he walked, the green blades tickling at his abdomen. A groove of trees came into view and the male found himself compelled to approach it. There was no harm in exploring, it wasn't as if he had any sort of destination or goal. If the Celestials had decided to lay out a plan for him though, would the Caedis leader accept it? This concept was new to him, accepting something higher then himself existed.. If this all truly was real after all. Doubts began to claw at the corner of his mind. Was any of this actually real?
The Monarch was impartial to the ideals of death. It warranted the end of a individuals story. You were simply gone from the world of the living with only your accomplishments to serve as a reminder of your existence. It wasn't something he feared. If anything death had become normal to the male. How many had fallen under his very fangs or from the crushing blow of his bat? It was something needed within the world to keep balance. Something Vantus used to keep control of the throne he had forged for himself.
He had never considered walking these pure lands before. The Celestial Meadows were untouchable and something he wasn't sure he'd be given access to. He was a leader however; wasn't this his right? A King over the volcanic chasm, ruling from the shadowy recesses as he struck claim to the plague lands. The former Leader of the Fidelis had access to the Celestials as did her father before her. If the stories held true. The throne wasn't something given to him, but earned. Vantus had to work for it, stake his clam and tear through those that stood in his way.
The Sire had goals; dreams for the plague lands and the world most had never thought of. Why were those non infected better then those with the virus? Why was the virus seen as such a burden? What determined if someone was 'pure'? The world was judgmental, morphed against his very kind and labeling them as the enemies.
Past infected leaders had fallen into that void of unbridled violence and only tainted their kind further. Creatures were meant to adapt and accept the Pandemonium Plague. He himself and his own offspring was proof of that. Born from the infection they had no ill effects of the virus. The plague was something Vantus embraced and was determined to make it become the 'normal' in the world. The Monarch wouldn't fall into the never ending gore fest his former leaders succumbed to. His chaos was controlled to get what he sought after. Which in the long run was equality. Having access to the Celestials was something he deserved, at least in his own mind.
Steps slowed as a figure manifested within the distance; their silhouette becoming more clear as he neared. The shadowed pelt and crimson markings were similar to his own. His visage contorted slightly, brows furrowed as he stilled. The wind carried with it a familiar scent and the brute found himself reliving memories long locked away in the darkened corners of his mind.
The scent of singed fur and the way electricity had bounced over his father's form. His deep vocals as Vantus found himself nestled against the larger males' figure. The feeling of paws holding him down as he scrambled against the muddied ground to try and help. Lava bubbled nearby as the former Sire spoke about his ventures for the day. Erebus' head was lopped from his shoulders and rolled along the ground. Jaw clenched and orange gaze flicked to meet yellow ones that he had last seen glossed over in death.
|
|
|
|
Post by Star on Jun 3, 2016 23:33:15 GMT
The lupe couldn't be dreaming, because he was practically living in one. It couldn't be his mind playing tricks on him, because it was entirely clean of the detrimental effects it once suffered from. No, that was definitely the scent of his son that was once the most comforting thing in the world, the one thing helping him keep a grasp on sanity.
Erebus felt his heart lurch within him, his slit eyes squinting through the rolling mist and thick flora. He had heard stories of the living occasionally visiting the deceased. Usually it was the other way around, but on special occasions, a soul was chosen to walk the same lands as the Celestials. For a sign, an omen, or some other type of mythical purpose.
So what purpose did Vantus have here?
The past sire found it unusual, though not unwanted. Celestials were mostly made up of uninfected beings, either those previously infected, or those never touched by the plague at all. And Erebus knew how many creatures, both dead and alive, felt towards those whose minds were diseased and deteriorating. They were condemned, treated differently. If they had any sort of ideals at all, they were cast aside. It seemed like there was always going to be a rift between the two types of beings. So Erebus ruled as such, and that's how Nyoka had ruled before him.
But in watching his son from above, Erebus could sense that something was...different. Vantus seemed to have unique views. He seemed to accept that he was unalike the Fidelis, all the while casting the notion of being aberrant aside. He seemed to embrace his illness, almost like it was no more than a part of him. Not something to be ostracized. Not something to be denounced. Rather, something to be received.
Is that why he was here? Is that why the Celestials were welcoming of his presence as opposed to the normal scrutiny?
Either way, Erebus was in no way prepared to see his son, his actual son, standing before him. His glowing yellow gaze locked with the familiar orange irises, holding Vantus' gaze in a way he hadn't in years. Again, his heart lurched. Vantus was so different from the little pup he raised, so grown up, so mature. He really had been able to hold his own. And even despite missing him immensely, part of Erebus was proud to see his son simply visiting the land of Celestials, instead of actually becoming one.
He was strong, cunning, and a powerful leader. And he didn't appear to be suffering much like Erebus had during his time of living. That was the most important of all.
The towering male took a few hesitant steps towards the opposing lupe. What to even say. Did Vantus even remember him? So many moons had passed since the two had shared any interaction. And Erebus was quite aware that the last time Vantus saw him, he was just a pup, watching his father get brutally murdered by a strange android loner. So it was a strange re-acquaintance at that.
Still, Erebus felt compelled to speak, opening his maw and deciding to utter something he hadn't in so long.
"...Vantus?" he murmured deeply, tasting the name and savoring how it danced off his tongue, much like it did when he uttered it for the first time.
|
|
get dunked on
Character Bios
Character Bios
Quote
Papyrus is rattling his bones.
Plays 7
PLAYS Vantus, Lanie,& Flint
|
Post by Zombie on Jun 4, 2016 0:08:56 GMT
Nothing held true the same way relationships between kin were handled. Whether estranged and un-welcomed or sought after and accepted; there was something different between blooded relations and how they morphed over time. It could be a blessing, a curse or something individuals held indifference to. Above all there was something exclusive between the bond of parental figures and whelps. The unwavering pull between the two as the bond was set deep within the most primal roots of any creature.
It was something Vantus had the absence of through his aging. The majority of his pup-hood and throughout the remainder of his life to the present; held no such bond. The lack of parental figures and kin of any kind had weighed heavily on the Monarch's mind during his youth. Why had they left him? What was he supposed to do? Were they disappointed in the future Sire-to-be.
Though the lack of parental presence had no great ill effects on the infected-born canine as far as he could tell. It had helped in shaping him into the being he was today, but it hadn't held him back. If anything it only urged him forward, propelled Vantus towards clawing at his goals until they were obtainable. There was always a emptiness; a desolate part of his being that inwardly longed for that sort of relationship. Of course the admittance would never fall from his tongue. Where would he be though if either of his parents had survived and properly raised him?
Orange gaze traveled over the familiar figure as undisturbed steps closed the gap between them. The former Sire looked well off, vastly different then Vantus had remembered. His coat was full, frame sturdy and any ill-effects from the plague were absent. Were all Celestials like that; 'cleansed' from the very virus that controlled them? At the very thought the large male snorted.
Paw steps stilled, leaving a ample amount of space still between the two. The infected was unsure how to handle the situation. Emotions were torn and a foreign heaviness weighed in his chest. Absently swallowing and running his tongue over his dried lips; he finally broke the silence that lingered after Erebus' first words.
"The one and only." Vocals were waveless; laced with the ever present conceit Vantus typically held. Posture was somewhat lax as he tilted his cranium ever so slightly to the right. "You.. look well." Vocals were brief, yet the son's eyes held so many emotions; masked behind the dull expression on his visage.
|
|
|
|
Post by Star on Jun 4, 2016 1:45:18 GMT
Another silence was to pass between the two males. It was...uncomfortable to say the least, and it pained Erebus that it had to be. He had died so early on in his son's life. He had barely been there for him at all, barely established any sort of paternal bond. He had barely gotten to interact with the life he had brought into the gloomy, troubled world.
The lupe audibly sighed, his ears slightly lessening their erect stance. Perhaps what was most difficult was that Erebus had indeed watched his son grown up. He had indeed watched his personality form, his strengths grow, his relationships change. But it was all from behind a glass wall, a two way mirror of sorts. He never got to offer any type of support, any type of encouragement. He never got to offer Vantus a guaranteed home to come back to. He couldn't offer his aid, his wisdom, or his sympathy. He was entirely closed off, simply forced to watch everything that went on without a way to intervene.
It was like he was hardly a father at all.
Erebus shut his eyes for a moment, attempting to sort out his emotions, a new skill he still needed practice with. Yes, he had missed out on his son's life, but thankfully, Vantus wasn't pained. He didn't appear to be suffering at all. He grew into the very leader Erebus wished him to be early on. Independent, unforgiving, intelligent, and sane in his own ways. So what the male said next wasn't a stretch in the slightest.
"As do you."
The pause that followed was as thick as the mist surrounding them. Erebus took the opportunity however, to take shelter in his thoughts once more, contemplation softening the awkwardness. What did his son even think of him? How did he remember him? Did he think him to be some soft, pathetic leader, murdered on the spot by a loner? Was he some type of canine to look up to? Was he even a father like figure at all?
And what of Erebus' shifted characteristics. He was no longer infected. He and his son no longer shared that mutual hardening of the souls and clouding of the mind. Did Vantus think differently of him for that?
The dark brute despised being thought of as soft. It was a fear that plagued him in the world of just that. He killed relentlessly to ease it, and harassed to combat it. Even the seemingly worthless opinions of grunts and the lesser ranks struck the male deep. What must it be like to have his son share the same negative thoughts?
Without the virus acting as a portcullis in his brain, halting the flow of thoughts and emotions, there was so much more he wanted to say now, so many things he wanted to say to his own kin. But being free to run with all his other feelings, the fear held him back, kept him silent as he looked Vantus over. Apologies and sentiments however, were just inches away from dancing off his tongue.
|
|
get dunked on
Character Bios
Character Bios
Quote
Papyrus is rattling his bones.
Plays 7
PLAYS Vantus, Lanie,& Flint
|
Post by Zombie on Jun 4, 2016 2:51:43 GMT
Memories could be a tricky thing to handle. At times they were so vivid and strong. Others were fragments and vague assumptions. They were all mere echos of the past, images that were either cherished or loathed. Some memories held fast to reality and at times others were warped and muddled with false comings. The more pained memories however some locked away. They were forgotten, lost within the fissures of ones' mind.
The majority of the ashen hued canine's memories were of the former. Most of them were scarred like a broken reel of film. They were jumbled, scratched and oddly fragmented. A few were vivid enough to be believed in the present. The details haunting and situations real to the point he could practically feel what the mud felt like between his toes as he clawed at the ground. He could practically taste the charred flesh and singed fur; the way his fathers' screams echoed throughout the swampy lands. Foam dribbled from the canines maw as the lanky android continued to electrocute the large brute.
It felt as if his veins were filled with the molten lava of the chasm as the scene played out before him as it had done so many times during his youth. As soon as it began it shattered and the Monarch found himself once more in the fields of the Celestials'. Exhaling the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, he let his gaze finally avert elsewhere as if finding the warm colors of the trees suddenly intriguing. "Hn, weird color they've chosen for the trees."
His vocals were a distraction as the infected attempted to collect his bearings. Erebus hadn't crossed his thoughts in a long span of time. The mere thought of the patriarch brought with it a swell of emotions he wasn't keen to revisit. The enmity used to be just as strong as the disappointment. He had left him alone too soon in a world that wanted to tear him down. There was no one to look to for guidance. No one to teach him things.
Over time the resentment had morphed into guilt and a pang of loneliness. Vantus hadn't been determined enough to save his parent from Bec. He hadn't been strong enough to overthrow him originally. Vantus was forced to hold his tongue, follow under the very filth that had taken his father from him.. it was pathetic.
It had taken Vantus far too long to fight his way to power, stake claim on the throne that rightfully belong to his bloodline. Surely the male before him was disgusted by how long it had taken and his initial failures. There was so much trepidation that the tension could easily be suffocating. If his father was angered with him though, the infected knew he had no right to be. He had left him abandoned and alone. No wonder it took him so fucking long to build his way up to greatness.
Then there were the fond memories that placated the rage and sorrow. These were the broken fragments, torn images the Monarch couldn't piece back together. The feeling of his tiny form pressed against a much larger one. Smooth, baritone vocals droning on about various things.. A time where there was a explanation of sorts that Vantus couldn't remember, but recalled the anxiety that had plagued him over the ordeal. Aside from his father, there was the faint remembrance of a feminine voice.. a vague scent he couldn't place or hold onto for long.
Easing down onto the soft terrain he allowed his stoic expression to shift into a ghost of a smirk. "Don't think I could get used to the trees.. but it's a decent enough place you have here,"
|
|
|
|
Post by Star on Jun 5, 2016 2:22:42 GMT
The conversation had taken an odd turn to say the least, dancing around the elephant in the room. Erebus simply blinked, his ears on the swivel as he traced his son's gaze to the magnificent foliage surrounding them. He processed the direction of their discussion, slowly but surely. He was getting better at reading emotions, what with finally having clear ones of his own. Through watching the souls down below, swimming through his own thoughts, and having the occasional discussion with a fellow Celestial, it got progressively easier and easier to understand what others were feeling.
And while he couldn't exactly tell what was going through Vantus' mind, the grey lupe figured there was a complexity behind those orange irises. Because why discuss something as trivial as the landscape after being reunited? Wasn't there much more to be said? Questions to be asked? Answers to be given?
The former sire remained silent, outwardly that is, for his mind remained ablaze with perplexed whisperings. Through his brain he combed, attempting to piece together why they were having trouble speaking to each other, what could possibly be holding them back. Erebus himself was scared of looking a fool in front of his son. He was aware of that. So was it possible that his son was somehow scared as well? Did they have more in common than he originally believed, despite their obvious differences?
The male pivoted his stare back towards Vantus, his yellow eyes soft and clear for once. If it was indeed fear, would could it be of? The unknown? The uncertainty? Erebus essentially was a stranger to him after all. Any memories the younger leader had were likely very minute. Was the unfamiliarity an issue?
A long breath trickled from his muzzle. Perhaps Erebus just needed to be more conversational, more open, much like he had been many moons ago. Perhaps he just needed to be the father he actually was to the light grey male. Swallowing hard and trying to set his unease aside, he nestled down next to Vantus, settling his large form into the sweet tendrils.
"It's different than what we're both used to, yes," he finally said, "I still don't think I've adjusted fully."
He fought to keep from staring down at his paws or letting his gaze travel elsewhere, instead fixating on his son and soaking his form in, making up for all the time they had been separated.
"It's kind of...bittersweet. It's home, but it's not. Voices are always present, and yet it can be lonesome. Conversations are held, but relationships are hardly formed," he continued on, before a ghost of a smile someone manifested. "And then of course, the trees are strange."
|
|
get dunked on
Character Bios
Character Bios
Quote
Papyrus is rattling his bones.
Plays 7
PLAYS Vantus, Lanie,& Flint
|
Post by Zombie on Jun 5, 2016 3:30:56 GMT
This wasn't how he wanted the conversation to shift. Prattling on about the scenery held no significance. There were so many things that need addressed. Countless nights had been plagued by the very things he wanted express and had been unable to. Questions needed answered and there were things he had been only able to confide into the whispers of the wind. The situation had practically been gifted to him, to ease his burdens and talk to the very father he had lost.
Emotions were a complexity that Vantus wasn't comfortable tackling. They left you exposed to the world. The very fissures of your being became uncovered and such disclosure was weakness. Leaders weren't supposed to be so fragile. At any sign of incompetence and the very kingdom you ruled would be clawing for the crown. The monarch needed to protect himself and the very ideals he held onto.. Being weak wasn't an option.
Vantus was always compelled to show his composure and strength. Dominance was something he held onto and if all else failed violence was something to fall back to. It was a defensive mechanism, something he latched onto much like a whelp with their favorite toy. The strong survived and surpassed those weaker; and the infected canine wouldn't let emotions be his downfall.. if you didn't care about anyone; you wouldn't be hurt when they were gone.
Ears flicked in acknowledgement of Erebus' words, but the male's gaze remained set on the meadows spanning in front of them. "Relationships are only good if you need something." Tone remained un-hostile, self assured; as Vantus shrugged his shoulders with indifference.
The statement held no meaning. It was more a fact that was pointedly given, much like a mentor would to someone under them. His mind still swam with unspoken woes, but the current Sire held steady in remaining reserved.
"The plague lands have changed quite a bit since you- left." Which was true, they genuinely had. The equipment in the laboratory finally ceased to operate. Once black and bare trees began to grow once more.. it was starting to look more like a actual swamp then a barren wasteland.
'And so have I.' The words drifted in silence, 'Are you proud of me?' The questions remained unanswered as the infected refused to let them fall from his muzzle. "The Fidelis were chased away for quite some time." With a pause he shifted, head turning towards Erebus as he continued. "Are many other- former infected here as well?"
|
|
