every rose has its thorns [closed]
Nov 24, 2014 16:48:06 GMT -5
Post by Rosalina on Nov 24, 2014 16:48:06 GMT -5
Syx had found himself with no fights to attend to on this fine day in late spring, and no Requiem around to torment- as much as he didn't exactly have the energy or patience required to get into a confrontation with his half-sibling at the moment, he always loved when he got a chance to shove the fact that he was the one who had been wanted by their mother into her face. And the shepherd mix hated mental stagnation, almost as much as he hated the fact that everything about the Badai had been so quick to change lately. For now he was more than content to play the part of a good little drone, but Lamora was certainly no leader of his- indeed, every time he looked at the mutated sheep he couldn't help but hope that someone would slit his throat in the night and save the Badai from his madness. If he wanted to outwardly show such vile hatred he kept it to himself, remembering Veranke's harsh words before the last pack meeting. Besides, now that he knew for a fact that Tzafar was alive it only brightened his prospects. Soon, very soon, she would be coming back to reclaim what was rightfully hers. Syx knew this for a fact. Soon everything would be put right again. He just had to have patience, as he always had. For now he would continue to subtly defy Lamora in all the ways he knew how, slipping out of the ajar door of the asylum as soon as he'd double-checked that no one would catch him in the act.
Not that he thought Lamora would notice or even care that he was gone, but it was always beneficial to be on the safe side when the fluffy mongrel held the pack in such a tight fist. Thankfully he managed to leave without a hitch, paws going on autopilot and taking him towards the outskirts of the city. Which was how he currently found himself, sitting on the rocks bordering the edge of the beach and staring out over the sand and surf with a look of intense concentration. He was as of yet unsure whether it would be entirely beneficial to venture down onto the sand. There was a chance that he'd manage to find a good meal in the shallows if he searched hard enough, but Syx was not overly fond of the idea of getting his paws caked in sand simply for the sake of food. And he had to admit, just sitting here was peaceful enough for him. The smell of the sea that would be borderline overpowering to any other dog merely tickled at his nostrils, and the cool breeze blowing off of the waves cleared his mind, banishing the anger that always seemed to throb at the distant corners of his skull. Yes, he thought with a small smile, today would be a good day. He would make it so. There would be no imbeciles trying to cross his path and preach their sickening views of love and tolerance, no Requiem trying to steal his thunder and laugh in his face. Today belonged to him, and nobody but him.
A kind of childish exuberance overtook him in that moment as he leaped down from the rocks, tongue hanging out of an ajar mouth and tail billowing behind him as he sprinted down the stretch of sand and into the waves. Syx momentarily lost his balance as a wave slammed into his heels, a half-heartedly frustrated laugh escaping him as he went under. Even as he floundered and coughed his way to the surface, spitting and wiping one paw against his mouth in a vain attempt to get the taste of salt water off of his tongue, the shepherd mix's spirits were not dampened. He had not been able to let go and genuinely enjoy himself like this in such a long time, he thought with a wry smirk- certainly not since his mother had left, or perhaps even before that. Oh, if she could see him now she would surely tell him to get the hell out of the surf and stop acting like the child he no longer was, but for once Syx found himself not caring about what her opinion would be. He'd spent so long trying to live up to other people's standards that he'd almost forgotten what it was like to have fun. He would make up for that now as he paddled around in the shallows, attempting to maintain at least some level of professionalism with varying levels of success. The water was cool but not entirely unpleasant, something which the shepherd mix was unusually relieved about due to his rather clumsy swimming technique.
It was only when the form of another canine appeared in the distance that Syx's mood soured by the smallest of degrees, thinking that it was Requiem or some other Badai member come to make a mockery of him. As it came closer, however, the coat patterns began to become familiar, and a wicked smirk crossed the young Badai's maw at that. It was the Catahoula mix he'd met at the junkyard so long ago, the one who had seemed more than a little paranoid and didn't appear to have any skills apart from shrieking like a banshee at anything she perceived as a threat. Syx had sworn that day that somehow, some way, he would get through to her, and then shatter her into a million pieces simply because he could. Well, here was a perfect opportunity to do so dangled right in front of his nose, and who was he to start resisting the whims of fate? And so he simply stood up in the shallows, sneezing some excess water out of his nostrils and waiting until the female was within earshot before sending out a cry over the roar of the surf. "Ho there, my good lady!" He leaped out of the waves then, giving himself a thorough shaking-off as water droplets flew in a magnificent arc around him. "We really have to stop meeting like this, you know." Perhaps it was fate that was bringing them back together, who knew? Either way, he was still determined to try and make the best of the opportunity.
"I would ask if you remember me, but perhaps that would be a bit insensitive. In any case, you appear to have changed your mind about having company, hmm? Or I should certainly hope so." He smiled a winning sort of smile then, showing nothing of the emotions brewing beneath the surface. "And I don't believe I ever got your name either, my fair lady." With that he would sit back and wait for any sign of a reaction from the girl, a smirk threatening to play at the corners of his lips for the briefest of moments before he forced it back down. He almost hoped that the girl would show fear, this time around. She had every right to be afraid of the snake in the grass, the rose bush with its lethal thorns, the lion crouched and waiting to pounce. On the outside he showed no indication of his emotions, but on the inside he smiled evilly, the blackness around his heart twisting ever tighter. The game is set, sweetheart. Let's hope you can put up an actual fight this time around.
Word Count: 1,239
Playmates: Flash with Zasha
Other: SO THIS REPLY GOT REALLY LONG AND RAMBLY ALL OF A SUDDEN HNNNGGH. My next post will be much better, I promise.