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Post by feathers4 on Jun 7, 2009 22:44:34 GMT -5
It somehow didn't surprise Balam, deep down, that she wanted to talk about what had happened to her. If she hadn't wanted to, she'd have completely avoided or dismissed his inquiry. Instead she'd danced around it, making up her mind as to whether she really wanted to dish to tonight, to him, or not. And so, she made up her mind to take the leap while she was on the springboard, to dive into the topic she'd been avoiding. He thought it a brave thing. Balam was growing to like the necromancer very much, certainly enough to number her among his friends. She'd be the first in this town-- how nice. The shifter certainly hadn't expected to meet someone so agreeable this quickly, but then, Balam was hard-pressed to find someone he couldn't make friends with.
She launched into her story quickly, as if trying to get it all out before she got too upset to finish. Or perhaps, the rush was from pent-up emotions, forcing their way out of her. She had been at a graveyard with some bloodcrazy lycan-- he was probably one of the younger ones. Balam had noted that they were sometimes in much less control of themselves when they were recently turned. Most grew out of that, though-- perhaps the one she had met hadn't ever relinquished that crazed bloody rage. Isis had said the lycan laughed while he was killing, though. That didn't sound like the primal romps of the recently initiated, that sounded like a sociopath. Balam noticed her eyes fall shut, and his brows arced in concern and sympathy for his little friend.
So, the man-wolf had messed with her somewhat before his king had appeared to tame him-- that wasn't terribly surprising. They usually traveled in packs, and any wavering loyalty to an 'alpha' was harshly dealt with. He'd spent considerable time studying the creatures; thankfully for him, ravens and wolves had been companionable creatures for eons, and few lycans minded his presence. Her story was mildly disjointed, understandably, and he had to relinquish his comprehension of a few very minor details. And then, things started to get bad, because he saw her pause for a breath and look at him briefly.
When Isis began to speak again, it was in a much more controlled way, her voice low and quite a bit slower, as if she was loathe to speak or hear the words she was saying. He had beaten her, indeed; Balam looked with concern on the wounds she revealed laying below the bandages she wore. There were deep lacerations there, and not terribly old ones. Considerable bruising, too, that left her body broken and wholly dissimilar to her pretty face. It was a horrific sight in the near-nighttime, the only light in the sky a warm golden lining on the mountains far to the west.
"My story doesn't really have a happy ending, Balam."
As she wrapped her arms around her torso, tight like someone who had lost some precious part of themselves, Balam began to understand. At her last stumbling, unfinished statement, the man rose on four paws as the jackal he'd been when he first saw her. It took only a step or two to close the distance between himself and the girl, but he came to a seat by her side, a warm, fuzzy, silent companion to her horrors, now said aloud and acknowledged. The jackal-Balam's snout nuzzled into her shoulder for a moment, a low whine escaping his throat. He then rested his head there on her shoulder, patient and sympathetically silent like a good pet dog. He sometimes felt more comfortable in emotional situations like this as an animal, perhaps because those around him tended to feel more comfortable. People could be deceitful and false, but an animal didn't know anything but honesty. It was easier for people to forget worrying about what Balam was thinking when he was in animal form, and the last thing he thought Isis needed was to be self-conscious.
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Post by Deleted on Jun 8, 2009 17:20:46 GMT -5
The tears didn't come, as though they had been drained from her the moment the incident had occurred. But still, it had shaken her enough that the soft feel of his muzzle on her bare shoulder gave the woman comfort, and, after a time of relaxing herself, Isis twisted her body so that she could pet the jackal properly, a small smile on her face, after all. It had been easier not to talk about it, but the necromancer felt better, a more secure feeling that she hadn't really known before. Perhaps it was the fact that she too distanced herself enough from certain people to not consider them close, but Isis was content with running her hands trough the fur of the canine-Balam, anther soft sigh. He did know how to read people well, though it seemed that the shifter didn't quite realize that yet, however much he commented on it with Isis.
"Thanks. You have no idea how much I really needed that."[/b] Another glance to the night sky, the fire that was once hovering on the brink of the horizon now but a few stray rays of the sun, giving way to the night sky, a wondrous thing indeed, that Isis had often admired. There was a full moon out, but here, this far out, there shouldn't be anybody to bother the odd pair. At least, the city would be full of the howls tonight, the wolves raging the havoc they seemed to so love once more. Again, her hands ran through the delightfully soft fur, grateful that he had chosen a pet-able animal to comfort her. Isis preferred the jaguar, but she wouldn't say so aloud. Maybe because it was bigger, or the feline flick of its tail that drew her to them, but she had a thing for cats, and would probably have kept one, had it not been for Lucius.
She sat there in silence, her hands running through the fur of Balam, a small smile on her face. And then, her hands stopped, and she stood up abruptly. A small, apologetic smile was on her face. "Balam, I gotta go. Curfew is coming around, and I don't feel like getting lectured for half an hour."[/b] It was another sobering thought, and made Isis truly think of her situation. Perhaps it really was worth it to run away, if she played all her cards right, to finally escape. A hand came up to trace the outline of the chip, keeping away from her throat, the bandages not going to be returning anytime soon. Perhaps it was a way of being open with herself, but Isis didn't want them back on.
And then, maybe it wasn't worth it. The only way to find out was to try, but she wasn't sure if she were ready for that. Later though, she could try, if things turned really bad, though that was highly unlikely. She was well looked after by Lucius and those in his company, most of the time. The necromancer hated decisions like this, but there was enough time to make up her mind, to find the path she would walk : obedient slave, or fugitive from the masters? It was a tough choice, putting her values and feelings into disorder.
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Post by feathers4 on Jun 13, 2009 23:44:22 GMT -5
Balam would wait patiently as Isis calmed herself down, surprised that her eyes were dry of tears. Perhaps she'd already cried them all-- that happened, sometimes, when something was bad enough. The shifter had seen the best of times and the worst of times, and he remember what it felt like to not have any tears left in you. She turned to him, after awhile, to stroke his soft jackal fur in a rather soothing manner. She was smiling, which caught him slightly off guard. Isis apparently really did feel better now, despite her soft sigh. He nuzzled happily into her hand, fox-like ears pressing back on his skull lightly as he let out a low whine. It would be hard to believe, unless one knew as Isis did, that a man lay within the jackal. Otherwise, he seemed like an oddly feral pet dog, slightly smaller than a coyote and with a significantly different sort of face and ears. He was very glad to have given her something she really needed, though whether she referred to offering his ear or his cuddly shift he was unsure.
The jackal followed the girl's gaze to the sky, a fabulous portrait of blues and purples and a growing stain of black in the east. The moon cast enough light, though, that Isis wouldn't need to worry about it getting too dark out for her to see. Balam didn't really need much light to find his way. The senses and eyesight of the nocturnal jaguar were with him always. He'd not realized that the cat-shape would've pleased her more, but Balam might've if he'd thought himself through a bit. After all, it was a wonder he hadn't frightened her to death. Who wanted to cuddle with a canine after being mauled and raped by a lycanthrope? Ah, well, thankfully Isis hadn't responded to his fluffy, people-friendly form negatively.
After all, the jaguar shape was not something he tended to walk around in for fun. Jaguar was a wild cat, a predator, a stalker-of-the-night. Balam always felt himself becoming tense and excited and touchy when he was in jaguar too long; he was no tame beast, after all, but least so as a cat. And besides that, he knew he had committed some of his worst acts as jaguar. Balam was an old man that had never followed any moral compass in particular. Over the years, he had mauled and killed and slaughtered. There had been the times, when his emotions and stresses had been running at an all time high, when he'd woken up in strange corners of the wilderness, his mouth and chin covered in blood and flesh under his fingernails.
That time had long since passed, though. He was now in control of his bestial nature, his separate selves blended into a four-in-one of mindsets that made up what Balam was. Jackal had always been more people-friendly, though, and was just enjoying the girl's little hands in his fur when she came to an abrupt halt. Intelligent amber eyes watched as she stood, head cocking to the side in confusion. And then-- oh, of course, she needed to go back home. He stood with her, taking a moment to shake the sand from his coat in typical canine fashion. With that done, the shifter would pull himself back into Human, his black fluffy hair slightly mussed, as if someone had been petting it. He was a lanky fellow, and his elbows stuck out at angles with his body when he hung his hands in his pockets temporarily. "Ah. Right. I'm headed in the same direction-- should I walk back with you?"
She had become his friend now, and he'd protect her as well as he could in exchange. In fact, Balam had the odd trait of making friends and then protecting them maybe too overzealously, with no regard to anything but their safety. He had killed their loved ones and their families, and all with the primal surety that perhaps they'd be unhappy, but they had to see that they'd been in danger. Balam could, at the worst of times, be like an overexcited guard dog. It wouldn't matter who it was that was getting uncomfortably close to his person, the shifter would attack indiscriminately until the threat was neutralized. A character flaw, sadly, and one of several.
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Post by Deleted on Jun 14, 2009 12:29:21 GMT -5
He had made Isis smile, and at least her mood was better than when she had set out, a brooding person, looking for answers, and finding solace in nothing. But now, her mood was lightened, and there had been the gaining of a friend, new bonds to be tested out, and someone to stop that darkness from overwhelming the necromancer. It was a nice, warm feeling when she was with close friends, and now Isis was just pleased in general to be with Balam. It was a learning experience for both of them, but then again, that was what most friendships were based on, correct? You would watch and learn from them, as they did you. Isis would never require him to shift, or demand, let alone even ask. She was more of those that just accepted what others wished, and before Balam had shifted back into human form, her hands, ruffled with his fox-like ears, hands cupping it for a moment before continuing, the whines making her smile, just a tad bit more.
It was truly easier for her to deal with him in this animal form. After all, he was a canine, right? But she should have been afraid, with the Lycan and all. However, she knew, and did really trust Balam not to hurt her, and in that form, he was a cutie, something that made her think of a puppy, though his looks proved otherwise. But the form that resembled a dog's or coyote's was just fine with her, not too big, just enough for Isis to handle.
But soon enough, Balam was back in human form, once again taller than her, and her hand pushed some of the stray strands behind her ears, the blond standing out in the dark just enough. he was lucky, to be so in tune with nature. He was a natural being, part of the earth itself, really, with the ability to shift into animals that belonged here. Isis was unnatural, and that thought stumbled across her mind enough that she wasn't really one that belonged in this world, calling forth those that had already moved on, using them as she saw fit. But Balam's question drew her attention back to him from her thoughts, scattering them for now, until Isis came across them again. "That would be much appreciated, thanks." The smile went away, just a bit, and she shifted her footing nervously. This was why Isis hadn't gotten put much, for fear of stumbling across something even more, or just equally as unpleasant as the Lycan from before. The protectiveness of him still slightly surprised Isis, but she took it with good enough grace.
Another hand came up to nervously trace the collar of thorns marked onto her skin. "Let's get going,"[/color] she muttered, another glance around the desert, the sand cooling beneath bare feet, the ultimate opposite of what it had been when the Sun was at its peak in the daytime sky. The extremes of the desert always fascinated Isis, the fact that everything was switched around, made her always drawn to the place, and for a little while, she was safe from the outside world.
"Balam, why did come to this city? What drew you to it?"[/color] Isis asked him, once again honestly curious. There wasn't much that drew people here, save for the slave trade, and Balam was certainly not one for that kind of stuff, and was proved by his queries about the necromancer just escaping. He was a free-lancer, one that just journeyed, and it seemed like nothing held him in one place for long, not people, not items, nothing. His soul reminded Isis of the wind, something that showed he couldn't be truly tamed by anyone, and she had to admit, it was an admirable trait, that feeling of persistence and courage, to just never stop, and not look back at all. Isis wanted to be able to do that, to run like he did, not a master to return to, orders to obey.
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Post by feathers4 on Jun 16, 2009 16:01:36 GMT -5
The tall, lanky man nodded easily as she thanked him for walking with her back to her home. He brushed it off easily; it was, of course, the nice thing to do. Especially because a woman who'd just been raped would understandably be somewhat more frightened that the streets at night than any other would be. And he did care about how Isis felt, at least while she was with him. If there was any way to make her more comfortable, he'd happily comply. Balam cane off initially as a man who didn't need or form attachments to anyone or anything, but it wasn't exactly true. He made friends quickly and easily, but just didn't tend to stick around them for long. How could he? He had places to go and things to see, and no agenda was as important to him as his own.
And so, they were off, an odd couple of people to find wandering the little desert-like area on the outskirts of town. The shifter seemed to find his way easily, after having flown over all of this. Besides that, he was an excellent pathfinder and tracker, and was not the sort of person to ever consider himself lost. One of many benefits, perhaps, of being an animal. He seemed completely comfortable in the growing dark, too, his gait easy despite the variegated terrain. It would seem that the man could see in the dark, which wouldn't surprise someone who knew that jackals and jaguars were fairly nocturnal beasts.
Why had he come here in particular? "Just washed up here, I guess. I've never been here before, 's far as I can remember, so...why not?" He grinned, turning to Isis with a happy glint in his heavily dilated eye. He moved to stretch himself out a bit as they walked, his arms reaching high up over his head and then coming back down to lace behind his head. "I don't know that anything in particular drew me here except the wind. And, well, I wanted some hot food. You get mad cravings living on a boat for a long time, aheh. Fish is dull after awhile, and I like eating land critters better anyway." He said this with perfect candor, as though most people naturally had preferences for their favorite type of animal to eat based on land, sea or sky. He was a man of nature, though, and his mind gave precidence to these sorts of questions. At the moment, he was actually starting to crave a bowl of borsch. Balam was a man who rarely stopped thinking about food.
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Post by Deleted on Jun 19, 2009 9:33:49 GMT -5
"Oh, alright, I was just curious."[/color]Isis nodded, a smirk on her round face, and a hand came up to trace the line, barely seen by a vampire, let alone human, where the Lycan had cut her with his knife, the scar something that she would carry forever, as were the rest of them, lacerated on her neck and chest, along with the long gashes on her back. Balam seemed at ease here in the dark, and Isis let out a held-in breath, trusting him, and thankful that he would stay with her, for a now, a protective force that she was happy to have met for reasons other than just that. The desert scenery soon charnged to that of suburbia, and later, urbania as the seemingly out-of-place pair wound their way through the streets. She was quiet for the most part, taking in his explanation with a nod of her head. The necromancer was happy the shifter was so at ease with her, just as though they had been lifelong friends, and were just meeting up again after a period of time apart.
The streets weren't something Isis welcomed, always feeling as though there were creatures out there, waiting and watching, just like before. It may have been a bit of paranoia on her part, but really, who could blame the young woman? She had learned though, from her experiences, and wouldn't be speaking out too much. A lesson learned that would stick with her forever, always having that small shadow to her steps, the uncertainty that made her voice quiver at times. A look ahead, and a glance behind betrayed the necromancer's uneasiness, even with the shifter. She couldn't help it though, and just ;et it slide, letting her behavior have its way with her.
"You know what, Balam?"[/color] Isis said quietly, giving him a quick glance in the dark. "I will get out of here, eventually, and maybe then I can go to Egypt, and see the world. But I think that it would be better to not escape, and then just keep running, you know? I want to be set free, to earn something that shouldn't have to be earned back. I want to do it as a free necromancer."[/b] Another little quirk of Isis', though this one was a bit nobler, and maybe even pointless, when looked at from a sadistic sort of view. However, it was something that made her stand a little straighter, and have that gleam back in her eyes, despite whatever may come. It wasa goal to be worked for, something to look forward to. And, if the time didn't come, then yes, she would flee, flee to the waters of the world, and escape from the place that would have become her own prison.
The ZaneCorp Tower could be seen in the distance, slowly, yet surely, something impressive to others, and to others, a looming presence that forbode evil to those that came against their will, usually brought in by the necromancer that resided there. However, to Isis, it offered protection, safety, and comfort, most of the times. As well, the crypts were the places she was most likely to be found when not on duty or outside the tower, just browsing through all the works down there, though it was off limits to most people. At least she was trusted well enough. A hand brushed against her other wrist, feeling the bump there. Almost well enough.
(( Sorry it took so long D; ))
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