Ankyra Sound Sorry About your Luck Kid

| @Hawkes
| Clear, 27F
| 2:00PM
| Ankyra Sound, Monolith Forest

Back onto the beaches, surprise surprise there was another pack who claimed a part of it on the cliffs. Their scent scattered around and he wondered... did they also claim these beaches here as their own? It wouldn't surprise him considering the last couple he had come across, claiming an extra piece for themselves despite their numbers not quite reaching enough to spread across two lands. Well, in the defense of the coastal wolves, there were two packs protecting the sea lions in a treaty of sorts - so he supposed they got a pass... barely. 

Within the heart of this land, the specter found a paradise within. Tall trees filled with life, a shelter from the harsh winds and cold sea breeze that chilled one to the bone when exposed to the sea's spit as it washed up on the shores. Here, the trees offered some kind of shelter, warmth was offered in their presence and distant chickadees sang their songs within their canopies. 

Though the young man held a calm exterior, pleasantly hiking along in the woods, his senses were on high alert as he prepared for someone else to come by and tell him off - or try to recruit him again just to get flustered like all the others before them. As history dictates, it was only a matter of time before someone did.

Here they were. The pack Hawkes had been searching for these last few weeks. If he'd just run along the beach like a madman in search, he probably would've found them sooner, but Hawkes was nothing if not thorough, and he hadn't wanted to miss any nooks or crannies. But it wasn't time to confront them yet - Hawkes was much more interested in getting the lay of the land. Sniffing out their borders and maybe coming into contact with a few of their members. Just to see if this really was the same wolves Eartha had been searching for. 

Nah, today he was busy exploring. Slacking off, really, but these trees were gigantic, and he'd had to go see them. 

And he wasn't the only one. 

A wolf, a little bigger than him - certainly bulkier - was picking their way through the trees. Interesting to say the least, and Hawkes always was easily distracted by shiny stuff. 

Assuming that the wolf he was stalking wasn't an idiot and likely was on alert just as much as he was, Hawkes decided to make himself known. Red tail flicked as he approached the other wolf, posture kept carefully neutral and deliberately relaxed. 

"Hey," he called, yellow gaze scanning the canopy before traveling down to land on the frostfire eyes of the stranger. "I've never seen trees this fuckin' big in my life. D'you have any idea what they're called?" Maybe he lived here. Maybe there was some information to be found.

There really wasn't much for him around anywhere other than to look at the woods around him and bask in its beauty as if he belonged among them. A phantom stalking in the night only to be disturbed by a curious commoner would by and give him some entertainment for a bit before moving onto the next - and speaking of which, one was just on their way. 

The call stole his attention away from the massive trees and onto an earthly looking fellow. Handsome, even he had to admit. Mildly smaller than himself, but that was nothing to scoff at - Abaddon didn't like to fight and so this guy could possibly kick his ass if he was not careful should he piss this one off too. A common thing in his daily life lately. 

They are quite impressive aren't they? He quirked a brow. Keeping a pretty placid face about the man's question, he replied as naturally as possible as if he certainly did live here his whole damn life. This guy wouldn't know any better unless he was a regular here after all. I believe they are called mentula magna. He lied smoothly, having no clue what these trees were called he was just trying to see if he could get caught shoveling shit.

Taking a couple of steps in the direction of the new guy, he wondered how this one would go? History dictates it wouldn't go very well... but hell, it was some kind of entertainment to last him a few days. I think it translates to mega something rather.

Fortunately for the both of them, Hawkes was not keen on the whole fighting thing either. Unless he had a real reason to do so - like, he was attacked - there was no way the boy was going to try his luck. His temper was tightly restrained and he worked on logic rather than emotion, so there was no risk of a fight here unless this guy turned on him. 

Sunlit eyes scanned over the other man as he spoke, taking in his expression and body language. If he was a liar, he was a good one - he seemed so smooth, but Hawkes picked apart the words. I believe. I think. Something rather. 

Nothing too big, and not a dangerous thing, but it made Hawkes smile regardless. 

"Something rather," he echoed, chancing a moment to cast his gaze back up to the massive trees. His own voice held a hint of a teasing lilt, his gaze playful as it cut back to the stranger. "What a weird meaning." He did not outright call the man on his bluff just yet, but he figured that there was something wrong with what he'd said. Whether the words themselves or the definition was yet to be seen.

He scanned the stranger over again, lingering on the skull-like markings around his eyes. He was striking, for sure. Hawkes certainly appreciated beauty. "And what are you called? Preferably a real name, this time." Though of course Hawkes would take a fake name. It was all inconsequential, in the end.

No, Abaddon was more or less harmless to most. It was all a matter of perspective and all depended on how much he disliked or enjoyed an individual. He was vindictive but did not seek out trouble. An asshole with a big mouth to poke the bear, but not malicious for the most part. Both a simple and complicated man in his ways. In all, he did whatever he wanted, when he wanted - and maybe that is why falling in line with a pack never seemed to intrigue him much. 

Yes, I can't quite remember the direct translation. He lied again without missing a single beat. Lying was an art, it took time and practice to keep one's nerves as solid as steel, to keep them under control in all sorts of weather without sinking under the pressure of being caught. Of course, something rather would be called out, and he simply went along with it with only mild guiding. Ahh the true master of lies at his best. 

Preferably a real name, the callout made his lips turn to a one-sided grin. What a fun guy, he thought. Would you believe me if I told you? He toyed a little further. Questioning his beliefs briefly before sliding in with a little bit of truth - to see if he could tell the difference between his lies and something truthful. I am the angel of death and destruction, the one true abyss- iterating the definition of his name just to add some glamour to it. A bit of show business never did anyone any harm.

Son of Vengeance knowing very well that would most likely mean absolutely nothing to them other than just babble as the previous words - still, all in due fun to drag him around. I am Abaddon. Finally, the cat was out of the bag. So, would the guy believe him now?

Hawkes, too, had no true desire to cause harm to anyone. At least, not unnecessarily. Chaos wasn't much his forte, even though the life he lived might suggest otherwise. It was a... means to an end. Something that he eventually hoped to escape from. This wasn't the way he wanted to live forever - an underling who bent to the will of his leader. 

Maybe if his leader was kind. Was fair. Was not a pirate. 

A hum escaped him, thoughtful, as he looked over the ghoulish man. "Right, right. Of course," he responded, as though it was perfectly normal for someone to just forget what words meant. A small smile remained on his maw, amused. "If you ever do recall what it means, I'd love to know." He wondered if the guy was lying or not. If he was, he hoped it was funny.

"Probably not," he said honestly, to the next inquiry. "I don't really believe anyone during the first conversation. Everyone lies, at least a little." It was safer that way, really. Less likely that you'd be made a fool of. Less likely that you'd be killed.

Hawkes was not interested in either.

Except... his explanation for his name was so elaborate, and kind of funny. Pretentious, really. Hawkes didn't even remember his parents' real names, and rarely spoke of his given name. The detailed explanation drew a deep laugh from the boy, and he shook his head. 

"That's... that's great. I'm choosing to believe it." If he was that good at making shit up on the spot, then perhaps Hawkes deserved to be made a fool of. "I am not an angel, thank any god that may exist. Son of two wolves who fucked a couple times." He grinned, shaking his head. A couple of whores who didn't want to be parents - who were likely too young to be parents - and who left him the first chance they got. "My name is Hawkes." He offered the larger wolf a crooked smile. "It's a pleasure, Abaddon."

I assure you, you are the first in line to know. Judging by how this guy was dancing around with questioning Abaddon and light jabs toward his honesty, Hawkes here didn't really believe everything the poltergeist had to say. But this one was fun to play with, even if he wasn't in total control here. It was fun. And that alone kept him intrigued. 

Everyone lies at least a little. Well shit, he had him there. The man was right, everyone did lie. Even little white lies weren't the exception here, there were no saints who told the truth all the time despite how angelic they may look. What Abaddon could say about himself at least, is that he was honest about his dishonesty. If that made any sense. He didn't use it and hide behind some goody-two-shoes facade. 

He was his father's son after all. And each one of his brood was damned in some way. It was in their blood to burn at the end of the day. 

A devilish grin found its way to his maw as the other laughed. The elaborate introduction was meant to do so anyway, to make it ridiculous and improbable. His name was strange, even if fitting... Abaddon was all about having fun with the shitty cards he was dealt after all. I think I have one up on you with that Hawkes. He stepped forward, curious about this lad. Taking the time to soak in his appearance and scent.

My creators fucked once, according to mom, I was a freak accident. He could smell another upon this guy's pelt... faint from this distance, but he had either been traveling with someone or met someone previously... still, he was a loner, just like Abaddon. What are you doing here Hawkes? Certainly not to just enjoy the view?

You are the first in line to know. It wasn't a perfect response, but Hawkes was satisfied enough, for now. A little mystery, to keep him guessing. This guy was beyond interesting, and the pirate had always liked a bit of a challenge.  

Hawkes did not know what was in his blood. What his parents did, if they were even still alive. It was in his own nature to self-destruct, though he might try his best not to. He could only assume that it was in his parents' nature as well. 

Not a lot of pirates lived to be as old as Kingsley, Eartha, and Lynford. Only the good ones. And Hawkes was not a good pirate. All he could really do was strategize and do his best to kiss up to his superiors. For now. 

He stood still as Abaddon approached him, confident enough that he wasn't about to be killed. 

"Oh, I can assure you that I wasn't born from an intentional union, either," he informed, a soft snort escaping him. Creators was a funny way to put it - Hawkes would prefer something less involved. He wasn't a creation - he was... spawned. A brow arched and he hummed in thought, pondering over the question. "I'm looking for the pack up here. Not necessarily a personal grudge of mine, but I've got a friend who's got a bone to pick with them." It wasn't a secret - the only thing that was important was that word didn't get back to the pack themselves before Hawkes could speak to them. Abaddon didn't seem a snitch. 

A wry smirk crossed his maw as he looked around at the trees surrounding them, then scanned the ghost up and down before he made eye contact again. "Is there something wrong with enjoying the view?" he questioned, quirking a brow. He rarely came out with a flirtatious remark, but he figured his companion could take it. Would probably enjoy it, even.

Their stories were nothing unique, it was a tale that many freaks like them had in their blood. The wilds were wild after all, cruel and unforgiving to even the kindest of souls. One was considered lucky if they were desired, loved, and planned, for that was not the case for the majority of the lost souls wandering these lands since the beginning of time itself. Some just accepted it better than others, and it seemed like Hawkes here shared that one thing in common with the Vampire.

A brow rose to the little bit of information being shared. A little morsel just enough to tease his taste buds. May I ask what kind of vendetta this is? Paint him intrigued, he wanted more out of this. I have no loyalties with them. Nor did he know anything of them anyway to speak about. He couldn't promise not to tell them anything if something fantastic was offered in return... what that may be? He couldn't be certain, not without knowing a little about this grudge and of both parties in question. 

He could feel Hawkes' eyes upon him, the feeling caused a shift in his position as he swayed from putting his weight on one side to the other in a smooth, slow shift. Seeing if it would please him to see the man move and observe every motion behind the creature's physique. It all depends on what your intentions are, but I suppose there is no harm. Remembering the striped brute from before, there was much harm there. The guy was honest about it, Hawkes here on the other hand... well, it was a dance.

I quite like the company. He hummed with a cruel grin.

"I don't really know. It wasn't important - I just needed their location to bring back to her," he explained truthfully, seeing no reason to lie. Eartha might have his hide for it later, but that was a problem for Future Hawkes. Present Hawkes was having a lovely conversation, and he didn't want to ruin it with unneeded dishonesty. "Though, knowing her, and where we came from, I'd be surprised if they'd be happy to see one another." Was Eartha ever happy? Hawkes had yet to see it. 

Yellow eyes tracked Abaddon's movement, half-lidded, and a smile crossed his maw. The man was only a handful of inches taller than Hawkes, but outweighed him by near fifty pounds. Where the pirate was leggy and lithe, the ghoul was broad and stocky. But the way he moved reminded Hawkes of some of the women back in Tortuga - smooth, precise, intentional. 

What was there not to like?

A small grin spread across his maw, pleased with the response. He shrugged his shoulders. "My only real intention was to speak to an interesting stranger," he explained, stretching his own body, chest to the ground and back arched, before he stood back up. Hawkes might not have the strength that Abaddon had in his muscles, but he hoped he could have the same effect on him as the white wolf had done. "I think I succeeded in doing that." 

It was also pleasing to know that Abaddon had enjoyed their conversation. "It's hard to find good company," he agreed, tail swishing once behind him. "I've liked talking to you, as well."

He wasn't sure why he didn't feel much like lying right now. Perhaps because he'd liked the conversation so much. But for whatever reason, he didn't feel the need to have his guard up in front of this man.

What's their name? This pack you're hunting. I'm trying to know as much of all the local packs as I possibly can, preferably without getting my face bitten off. And so if he could learn of them through a neutral party like Hawkes here, it was the perfect opportunity for that. After all, if he spoke to any of those pack wolves, later on, knowing just a little about them in advance would only benefit him in the long run. Packs came and went like the tides in these lands, and so, there was always something new for him to learn...  

Despite what the stripped guy had to say - there was power as a loner as well, and Abaddon was doing just that. In knowledge there was power, and in knowledge, he didn't have to rely on his body and its ability to fight in order to survive a long and prosperous life. He could do so by being important to others... by playing his cards right. By befriending the right individuals and getting rid of those who would only chain him down. 

An interesting stranger - something Abaddon felt the same about his companion here. Being picky about the company he kept or at least spoke to, meant he didn't spend much of his time talking on good terms. Tell me about it, I've had my fair share of salty encounters. Everyone was out here trying to look big, bad, and the best at what they do. To look tough and imposing. It got tiring after a while. They were not all as unique as they liked to think. There was no shame in him to watch as his companion stretched, to appreciate what was being showcased. He liked it, they seemed to be on the same chapter in this moment. 

If you'll have me, I would be happy to escort you to their borders. A little bit of back up if you need it.

"The only thing that I know about them is that they've moved up here from far down south. I've been tracking them for miles up this beach," he informed the other man, glancing around them for anyone who might be listening in on their conversation. The world was full of eavesdroppers and bad company, and Hawkes would prefer to avoid both. Being observant was one of the only things that had kept him alive to this point. He grinned, then, and huffed a short laugh. "With any luck, I'll keep my face, as well. Both with them and with the friend who's looking for them." He'd been gone a while, but he'd wanted to be thorough in his search. To bring back as much news for Eartha as possible. 

It seemed they were alike in that regard, as well. Hawkes preferred strongly not to fight, if at all possible, though even the most meticulous grooming could not hide all of the scars on his body. None so dramatic as to have been life-threatening, but his existence had not been a particularly easy one.

He nodded his head in understanding. "It seems like that's all that's bred, where I'm from. Salty, harsh wolves. More brawn than brains, for sure." A bit of pride welled in his chest when Abaddon seemed just as willing to admire him as he was to admire the white wolf. He didn't mind the shamelessness - after all, the display was solely to draw his attention. 

"I'll have you," he acquiesced, the smile still remaining on his maw that had been there from the beginning of their conversation. "So long as we agree to run, not fight, if things go south." The very last thing he wanted, right before winter, was an injury. He would be willing to bet Abaddon felt the same. 

Plus, he certainly wouldn't mind some more time spent with the guy.

With a single chuckle, he was glad they were both on the same page. Seems he might have found some kind of friend in this Hawkes guy, at least for now. Only time would tell if this one will stick around or put up with the vampire should this brief encounter blossom into something a little more long term. Hawkes seemed willing to talk, no secrets... would be nice to have someone to gossip with and share news of the Wilds, things that could be useful later on down the road. You're affiliated with some unfriendly folk then huh. He softly mocked. Now that his father was dead and gone, Abaddon was happy to be reminded of how free he felt now - even more so now that the Nightwalkers were gone and that brat of a boy Valour. 

You must be the black sheep among them hm? Hawkes seemed to put in a small jab at his kin.  I know that feeling. Absentmindedly he related to the thought. After meeting the other half of his maker, after hearing stories of him from Abaddon's mother - the vampire felt like there were barely any connections between himself and his father other than this cursed blood of theirs. He was not some brawny beast born to fight, rage and war - but a shadow lurking, waiting to pounce when the time was right.

Maybe the boy thought of himself to be better than the brawny type from where he had come from. He? That's right, a curious thought came across his nose... though the man acted like one, a tone as one as well... there was no shaking the female scent that came from this one. It was curious. For now he wouldn't question it and move on. 

That's a promise I'll actually keep. If he didn't leave Hawkes behind as a kind of distraction so Abaddon could get away, just be faster than the one you are running with, that was a type of plan wasn't it? As much as he enjoyed Hawke's companionship, the vampire had to think of who mattered most... and in this instance, it was himself. Lead the way.

Last from me! We can have a new one at Sapphique if you want? <3

"Unfriendly is a kind term," Hawkes hinted. The wolves he had been born around and brought up by had been far worse than unfriendly, but Hawkes didn't really mind. Sure, sometimes it got a bit exhausting, but he rather liked that most of them weren't overly friendly. At least it was more easily anticipated when they stabbed you in the back.

It seemed he and Abaddon were more similar than he'd originally expected they would be. It was pleasant, to meet someone so like him, but so different at the same time. Hawkes itched to find out more.

Needless to say, Hawkes would definitely try and be the faster of the two if it came down to running, as well. Much as he liked the guy, a stranger was seldom worth dying over. Even a fun, attractive stranger. 

With a smile, Hawkes jerked his head for Abaddon to follow, leading the way to Sapphique's borders.