Haunted Wood I can’t pretend cause
Máscara del diablo
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Ooc — Sofie
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#1
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She strode into her domain.
Haunted Woods.
The dark side of the forest yawned wide open for the General's entrance.
"I'm here to collect Vengeance," she spoke to O'Malley.
Would he understand? Perhaps. He'll ask questions, for sure.
Was gravedigging a sin?

She trotted easily through the worn track of a path she'd transversed so many times before.
Their scents had long faded.
Perhaps she'd visit her old den. The birthing den.
No. Bad idea when around this man.

She wandered over to where her and Valour dragged the rotting corpse. The small stone she'd dug into the ground to mark his head was toppled.
Something had trampled over the grave.

"Hello love," she smirked at the ground, wishing he'd just dig his way out.
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Ooc — Malia
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#2
It seems like he’s followed her to the ends of the earth at this point and he wonders if she’s trying to use him as a good luck charm. The logic of O’Mally’s got God on his side; and the fact that O’Mally’s on Vanity’s side, means that God is too, right? He is her guardian is he not? Her little guardian angel? Maybe. 

So as they finally reach their destination — a dark forest that creeks eerily and screams horror movie madness — he turns his head towards her to listen to what she’s saying. At her words he’s tilting his head and cocking a brow at her incredulously. His deep voice almost teasing and indifferent as he speaks. “Collect Vengeance?” He questions absentmindedly as they walk.

The vengeance he suspects she speaks of is of course is the always so sweet revenge. An eye for an eye type of situation. Though upon further inspection, he realizes they’re at an old pack site. Then Vanity is all but insanely smiling and talking to the ground.

Blue eyes shift over to see her so at home in this territory. She fits in well, whereas he sticks out like a beacon in the night. He’s smart enough to realize that Vengeance is not a concept, but another wolf. So he steps in beside her and looks down too. 

“Do you want me to pray?” He asks then. His horribly attractive voice really too deep and casual for the sentimental occasion. She’d learn soon enough that he isn’t the most model citizen to be praising God, but he’d have to do.
"The past is an enormous place, with all sorts of things inside. Not so with the present. The present is merely a narrow opening, with room for only one pair of eyes. Mine."
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#3
Dirt caked his paws and belly and also the meat he had scored at the bottom of the hole, The food had been gritty but he hadn’t taken the time to clean it. Everything would pass from one end to the other eventually anyway. The large brute lay upon the ground, a large bone hooked between his front forepaws. He took his time cleaning the meat from the bone being careful not to gnaw on it’s unblemished surface. Instead he licked carefully dislodging every piece of blood, meat and cartilage from the outer surface until it gleamed white.

His gods had brought him to a cache of meat, they must want his services soon, he would need to prepare and with a full stomach he was eager to heed the call. Satisfied with his work  he stood cradling the bone in his jaws gently; as if it were more precious then a newborn pup, For indeed to him in this moment it was more precious.  

He began to move forward, not knowing where his paws would take him but knowing his gods would provide the answer soon enough. It wasn’t long before his ears twitched and he caught a passing conversation truthfully all he heard was “… me to Pray?” He narrowed his golden orbs and changed trajectory, if praying was on option for these wolves he doubted it would be enough, his gods had led him here for a reason.

The large white brute came upon them and stopped. He stood tall with the bone in his jaws and nodded to the pair, His golden eyes assessing them, noting their size, color and general posture. His gaze moved to the ground below them, was this another Cache? He doubted it.

Carefully he set his bone upon the ground taking care not to scratch it’s surface just yet, then he spoke to them first, it being only polite since it was he would intruded upon them.

His deep timbre was rich, resonating from deep within his chest, and held a rhythmic sensual quality, honed with years of chanting “I am called Vein, and I heard you might need to pray,” His eyes flicked to the ground at their paws but returned to their faces quickly, no judgement in the golden globes “That might not be enough, My gods have led me here, there must be a reason” He picked up his paw and placed it gently on the bone just in-front of his feet and pushed down on it gently pinning it to the ground. He watched their reactions carefully.
Máscara del diablo
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Ooc — Sofie
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#4
He did question her.
She expected it really. She just smirked as they walked. He'd see soon enough.

The ground of his grave has long since grown over again.
The grass locked together in short spikes. Feeding off his flesh.
Do you want me to pray?
"If you wish to do so."
She didn't care much for words...but for the dead. It might sound better coming from a man of God. But no, those words couldn't come yet.

Her ruby eyes turned and settled on another, pale stranger. Anger bubbled up inside her, insults formulating, a plan f attack ready to be set into motion.
Her tail raised high, flicking with irritation. Fur prickled.
Who the fuck was this?

He answered her thoughts; Vein. Vanity, and Vein (to her it sounded like Vain).
The revelation didn't calm her.
"Shut up." Her voice was almost a whisper. Her unwavering gaze didn't leave the man.
O'Malley, take the reigns, stop her from starting a brawl.
Her muscles tensed, hoping one of them would crack her bloodlust - today wasn't for that, but to be fucking interrupted in such a precious fuc-
She let out the breath she was holding.
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#5
If you wish to do so. Are her words and he contemplates his own. Thinks on a prayer for a few seconds fitting for someone he doesn’t know. He’s about to spew the religious words when another presence is there with them. He looks over just as Vanity does and what meets his baby blues is a beast from the very depths of hell itself. 

A large, very well fed wolf of dirty creams that look like they have the potential to be white like his own. Yet they aren’t, obvious muck and other odd substances are smeared over the thick pelt of the monstrous man. Those ungodly golden eyes that so much resemble the molten hot rays of the very sun itself. 

Shit. He thinks internally. Unsure if even the the oh so vicious Vanity could take him on if it came to that. Yet, besides his looks, his voice is deep with a smooth yet hard grit to it. O’Mally notes his words about praying and Gods. He’s about to ask just who he worships when Vanity pipes up quite the rudest thing. A venomous Shut up. and O’Mally looks between the two, gauging the paler males reaction to such words from a stranger. Red eyes meet his own and he understands that she’s leaving this up to O’Mally and his good looks and silver spun words. 

He sighs and steps towards this beast bravely. He is taller than O’Mally and he isn’t quite small. “Vein.” He hums to the other. Calling him as he introduced. “I’m O’Mally. That’s Vanity. She’s busy with an old friend.” He smiles up to him. The kind that says please don’t bother her right now. “You say you pray? And to what god?” He asks then, his attractively deep and resonate voice confident in the silence of this eerie forest. “It just so happens I’m also a man of God.” 
"The past is an enormous place, with all sorts of things inside. Not so with the present. The present is merely a narrow opening, with room for only one pair of eyes. Mine."
[Image: the_young_pope_eyes_by_dinnersmcready_de...-E-sgdZ7No]
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#6
As he rolls the bone below his paw back and forth as a human might a baby cradle he watches the lithe female become visibly agitated, and though her bearing and aura scream for his own death  he can not in this moment feel fear or even agitation in return. If his gods brought him here they wanted this fate for him and he’d accept it with dignity. Thus he remained calm, even not minding her harsh words, closing his lips upon her request His golden orbs watching her with perhaps a tiny bit of fascination.

It was then that the impressive male stepped forth and his gaze slipped from her to him. Vein offered a respectful nod of his head as his ears twitched picking up the silky hum of the male whom introduced the pair of them as O’Mally and Vanity he could not help but think those names were quiet befitting for them.

Upon O’Mally’s question Vein is taken aback, now his expression turns to one of abject horror. “You can not choose a god to serve, you must serve them all as they see fit.” Vein draws in a breath expanding his chest the motion of the bone beneath his paw stopping for a moment as he visibly calms himself perhaps this one just didn’t know, though ignorance was not an excuse to the gods, perhaps they had just decided to give this one time find a proper mentor.  Yes that must be it. He should have kept the heart of the beast he had polished off earlier, he felt he’d need a heart before this night was though; only a proper offering would appease them now. His relaxed demeanour returned, there was a fair amount of work the gods were asking of him but he was not one to shy from work, it pleased him to serve them faithfully.

“I must then turn the question back to you,” he chants softly as he begins his gentle rocking of the bone beneath his paw yet again, the larger ends of the bone picking up traces of dirt making the end an off white, the rest of the bone remained clean and stark white “Which of the gods have you served thus far, Which god to you intend on invoking tonight, perhaps I can help so you do not anger any, and we may yet live out this night.”
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#7
The stranger looked contempt.
At complete ease. He was in the wrong place at the very wrong time.
And to not even shy away from her?! Not even to bat an eyelid at her obvious distaste.
She should replace Venny's body with his - the looser earth was large enough.

​But no. O'Malley stepped forth with his cool demeanour, soothing the rage -- blocking her view.
Do you want to be fixed, Vanity?
She blinked, looking back to the gravestone.
She settled down, sulking.
The pair blabbered on about Gods and crap, and it seems like O'Malley was actually having an effect on the other.
She'd forgotten to ask if he could actually fight. Shit.

"I'm just digging up a body," she muttered, glancing back over to the pair. Oh - oh ho if he said no. If he breathed an inkling of no she would have his head settled in the trees and his tail dug into the ground. Whilst his insides were still...connected.
A small smile popped into her expression.
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Ooc — Malia
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#8
O’Mally is mildly concerned for his midnight companion for a moment. She looks to be sulking. Perhaps this person meant something to her. Obviously she probably wouldn’t be here if they didn’t. So he tries to take the attention off of her by entertaining their new guest. Their new, savage, dirty, enormous, I look like I’m going to eat your face off then use your bones as a toothpick kind of guy. He’s religious though, so he’s have to see. Sometimes religion makes a man better, other times not. He doesn’t really want to think about where he sits personally either if he’s to be honest. 

So he’s quickly glancing back to this monstrosity of a man before him. His beautiful blue gaze meeting his own dangerous but calm yellow one. He can’t help but quirk a brow as he asks which god O’Mally believes in. And multiple gods? Oh man, he’s one of those. 

The male of the purest of whites chuckles out a soft laugh. “I serve one god. Not many. Though your religion doesn’t effect me. You can believe whatever you want, it makes no difference to me.” Or right now it doesn’t. But the inquisition will come one day. To cleanse all who don’t believe, or refuse to believe.

So he sighs and smiles up to the other, his cerulean orbs shimmering. “We can pray to all gods tonight then? You can give yours a little ring and I’ll do mine, yes?” He asks then, his smile dangerously handsome.
"The past is an enormous place, with all sorts of things inside. Not so with the present. The present is merely a narrow opening, with room for only one pair of eyes. Mine."
[Image: the_young_pope_eyes_by_dinnersmcready_de...-E-sgdZ7No]
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#9
Vein could not help the exasperated exhale that filtered through his nares, as the other male spoke blasphemy. He cringed inwardly, all those whom did not honour the gods as the gods saw fit would one day soon know the error of their way, he still held out hope that a fellow man of religion could be brought to light before he was washed away in the blood with the non-believers.

so he turned his gaze to the female and offered her a genuine smile. “My dear, that is a great idea, If it is still there the heart is precious to the gods, were you to offer it to them, before partaking of it yourself if that was your wish, it would only please them. The gods also love the blood of bones The marrow, if properly offered. Is that something you wish today?” He stopped rocking the bone and held his paw hovering just above it. His paw pads almost kissing the white surface but yet not quite. His paw was close enough he’d be able to pin the bone easily if one of them should attempt to take it, but high enough the gods knew, he had rolled the bone 13 times before his paw had broken contact then he had mentally counted off 153 more rolls of the bone before he had broken contact with the bone again, 166 rolls in all. One rock of each of the gods, though the first 13 were the most important the other gods all needed their utmost respect. The most demanding of the gods were the first 13, and of them the God of the sun and the god of the god of death were the more demanding. And this female seemed like she might be inadvertently serving at least one of the gods perhaps she was being guided without her knowledge. He found that to happen more often then not, if she could open her eyes to the gods they would welcome her into their embrace. For now he would settle on serving the purpose the gods and sent him here for. “Shall we dig then pray or pray then dig?” His eyes flicked to O’Mally as she spoke his last question his paw remained steady despite the time spent hovering
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#10
She rolled her eyes.
How could you not? Godly men droned on, an oonn and ooonnnnn...
They were fucking boring. If she were to be taken into a religion just tell her how shit was and let's go do something. But of course, they thought, compared, and deliberated.
She almost regrets bringing O'Malley now. She could have gotten rid of the stranger already.

"I doubt there's any organs left," she mused. Perhaps a bit of brain still encases in the skull.
Bone marrow though? Could she be bothered?
Not really.
"Say your shit now, I guess." And be quick about it.
She wanted to leave now.

At least O'Malley was making sure she didn't o anything rash. Though two on one were good odds in her mind.
O'Malley was his God, and Vanity her own. 
Whatever.
Her settled on the toppled headstone again, waiting for them to do whatever. And she would not cry.
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Ooc — Malia
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#11
O’Mally can see the unrest in Vanity’s body language. The irrigation swirling in those ruby red eyes and he decides that they should get this shit over with and done. For everyone’s benefit. 

Stepping up to the grave he clears his throat, the timing and casualness he has becoming almost humorous. Bowing his head, he begins. “Eternal rest you grant unto them, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine among them. May the souls of the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace. May you be the judge to their soul and damnation as you see fit and may they walk in the light of your greatest embrace. Lord, guide this one to a peaceful and ever lasting rest with you forever.” He opens his eyes, looking down at the bones of this man who knows nothing of. “Amen.”

He steps back and looks to Vein, expecting he’d want to do something as well. Then his eyes catch on Vanity before he moves around beside her. “I don’t know him,” He starts, referencing Vengeance in the grave. “but there’s something off about it.” He hums almost reverently before he’s being captivated by the other religious male. He’s almost excited to what exactly this man is about to say.
"The past is an enormous place, with all sorts of things inside. Not so with the present. The present is merely a narrow opening, with room for only one pair of eyes. Mine."
[Image: the_young_pope_eyes_by_dinnersmcready_de...-E-sgdZ7No]
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#12
ok well this forced me to figure out his religion on a faster timeline then I prepped for. Sorry it took so long to reply, I felt like I was doing a school project, and those damned rabbit holes I kept finding myself in. Then my sons school got shut down due to covid so then there was home schooling, and the loss of a pet so I spent a few days of dr… mourning. I’m back. :)


Vein listened intently to the mans words, learning this one was far more lost then he knew. But still saveable mayhaps if not just for his devotion. The gods do not judge the living or the dead, it is up to the dead to traverse the 9 levels of hell to the 13 levels of paradise. It was up to the living to serve the gods so that the living could continue to live and serve.  

Vein nodded to the male looking at the bone below his paw “I don’t think his journey is finished, perhaps it is our duty to help. Vein opened his mouth wide and hummed aloud his humming might have been words though none were formed, his tones was almost musical. Vein reached down and snapped up his bone speaking softly into it as he moved to stand directly over the grave “Flesh Serves and Dies, Blood Eternal Blood Serves as the gate way in sacrifice to you to all” Vein clenched his teeth upon the bone and still he continued a chant perhaps in a foreign tongue, the bone began to crack and splinter against his tongue as his chant persistent and a low rumble continued he teeth crushed the large bone. He did not readjust his grip he continued to apply pressure until the bone gave and and it fell from his maw the red rich marrow scattering on the ground, the larger end pieces of the bone fell away and tumbled into the undergrowth. Vein slowly opened his jaw and allowed the few remaining pieces of the bone fall to the ground along with his blood from his bleeding tongue. “Flesh to dust, We serve as we must” Vein lowered his head and the licked the ground like he was kissing a lover, leaving behind a smear of blood upon the ground, then he stepped back looked skyward speaking one more phrase in that oddly chanted foreign language and nodded before looking to the pair before him.

We all serve the cycle in every action, we may proceed with your wishes, Mistress Vanity.” He noted she seemed quiet, like she was second guessing her actions, and that would not please gods, so he offered pleasantly “Shall we all dig?
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#13
You're fine, we've both been slow anyway

O'Mally spoke.
Words about God and eternal life.
Yeah yeah yeah.
She doubted the late Warlord would care for the words or goodwill, but that's what he got.
Shouldn't have been killed by a kid then.
She tilted an ear to Vein.

Yeah, he wasn't finished yet. He still had to get back to the coast with her.
But when she heard the words, her eyes drifted to Vein.
He drifted closer, uttering incoherent words as he held the bone.
She didn't move. Just stared.
The bone cracked under his teeth. Still, he forced it to yield. She could see blood starting to pool in his saliva in the corner of his lips.
Idiot. Fool.
For thinking that that would please your imagination.

She blinked at he licked the dirt. Bones and blood covering the grave. Ugh.
Her eye snapped up to him.
Mistress.
She liked it. Perhaps O'Mally would pick up on it.
She nodded, glancing to O'Mally before she put her paws to gound and dug.
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