Big Bad Wolf

[23:27] In a response to the need of his people, this is all purely a part of the eventual end. He curves his thumb back, popping the digit whilst folding his other fingers soon after.

He won't profess to have the moral high ground, like kings and fools, he is merely a being doing what is asked of him. He chortles, casting a look around.

On this, a battle-field, where all is free, he finds himself meeting only one cap that covers the flourish of brownish red hair. "Oh, it's you." His eyes sparkle in delight, suddenly. Pieces have fallen into place, and that which whispered just out of reach thrums wildly.

"Come here, come, come. I would take what was left quivering in your shadow."
(Lyael)
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[23:33] Claims made on land. Did animals think they had claim to anything? They bend to the call of man and machine. She acts for the Machine, a cog that span and slaughtered men.

Beastkin fell at the shot of her weapon, littered with gunfire, others cut down like the beasts they were. The splatter of blood no longer fazed her. It coats her without issue, no jitters or shakes.

She then found herself somewhere quiet, slightly, as paths of fallen beastkin and cog alike led to a meeting with a silver wolf once more.

Never did she see him take up steel for Moxtli, yet here he is now. "You seemed more like an animal with preference to remain in your woods rather than lay claim on what is not your own."

"I won't be going anywhere." His words do allude her. Quivering in her shadow? Hardly. Matryona had nothing of his- Not yet, at least.

"No, I'll be returning home. You've no safety when you stand against the Machine as this." Duress Will rose, barrel end lining with Lyael's head. Curiosity piqued months ago shrouded now with the thrill of battle, a thirst then to trample over the enemy and claim victory for the Empire.

Esshar first will hold its flag and then the entire continent of Aegis.
(Matryona pyr Docro)
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[23:38] "Hmm? Yes, yes you will be returning home, but alone, you see. I truly don't intend to let you keep what is mine."

Has he taken the words delivered from her mouth, to his ear, and overlooked them? Of course not. It isn't unusual for Lyael to battle against someone of the Docro persuasion, nor was it an oddity for him to take up arms against Cogs in the general aspect.

It just so happened that he found himself changing, growing up, adulating over a calling that had come to him in the form of two wispy spirits.

"Rihihi. . I don't care about land.," his answer comes eventually, beckoned likely by the slow train of thought in the grand sway of the pendulum. "But, I was asked to show my face, so I will do that. Besides. . I am currently in the waits for something! So, while I handle important business with you, resolute lamb, I also have the joys of burning off time!"

He claps, suddenly, and shakes his head, loosing all of the joints before hopping a few times.

"Pah, pah, mmmmmmbbrrrraaah, brrrraaaaaaa."


(Lyael)
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[23:49] What she has of his is beyond her. She stole nothing, not yet at least. Soon will animals be culled and put down.

He confused her. Perhaps she should make attempts to understand? Unlikely. It serves little purpose...

Unless he meant that boon, one given by choice. "I'm no lamb but a cog." Is there a difference? Yes. Cogs can spin and contribute. Lambs are slaughtered.

The massive Ookami laughed and made noise that did make her stiffen. Unlike her husband, he's a wolf, large, silver.

She stares, gaze near burning as her finger lines nicely with the trigger. Click. "There is a difference."

Never will she be a lamb and eaten by a wolf.

BANG.
(Matryona pyr Docro)
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[23:57] Bang?

Bang!

To say that he's fast enough to dodge a bullet is. . plausible, to say the least. If it were a regular bullet. What fires at him is nothing regular even in the slightest bit. He finds himself shot directly between the eyes, bounding backwards several feet.

He skids, feet lifting every few milliseconds off of the ground with each pandering instance. Hop, hop, hop, stop.

Grass crunches as he finally stops, and when he leans forward, Lyael has the mana bullet blasted directly into his cranium. It sticks, a hole that dug beyond skin, beyond flesh, into and denting the structure of bone.

Blood leaks, but it merely is formality. The wound is cauterized before it even had the chance.

He grins, excited, and begins his assault with the entirety of the cosmos behind him, his father, his fathers father, and those that came and gave them existence.

The big bad wolf will blow down this house of brick and brimstone.

"Stout lamb! Oh, that's the way! Show me the difference."

His fangs have gnashed against her skin, claws ripping where it could, sword stabbing. It seems he is digging, digging for. . something!
(Lyael)
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[00:03] It began with a rush, a fire of her weapon when the Wolf stretched. Did he also enjoy war? What does she have of his? It's not as though he had the opportunity to. No.

There will be no openings.

Her revolver whisked to the side when bullets connect, between the eyes as she charges in. Long range, and short range. That blade made itself visible as she traversed the stars themselves- Wild. Free.

Freedom is a concept, like that of souls. When there did she find herself overwhelmed. The wolf could not blow down a house of brick. She'll be brick. She has to be.

When close did his claws tear at her uniform, exposing obsidian armor, heavy. Flesh tore, her protective exterior chipped.

Crimson dripped- Fangs seek her- She'll be eaten alive.

It pushes her back. Breath staggers.
(Matryona pyr Docro)
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[00:10] Pushed back but not downed, not slain. Statistics pile on each side, bodies and she will not be one. Will he? Each taken breath felt cold, as though winter had come early.

Twin spirits- Or singular? She was not aware of whether or not he had both with him. Was that what he meant?

Perhaps she should keep it, exploit it, use it then as a means of power for the Empire. Blades meet- Those winds threaten to keep her in.

If he wants her close? She'll be close. Her revolver shifted, moving them to be grasped in both hands as her finger took purchase at its trigger.

Instead of her blade? Rounds of bullets pelt him- Armor? It saves him, its his grace. "I think I'll keep what you have."

They steal, take. It's in her blood.
(Matryona pyr Docro)
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[00:14] "No, you see! You've already delivered them to me!"

He would not be remiss to admit he enjoyed this little back and forth. It was always so interesting to see just how serious and meaningful those who sported the Barsburg outfit could become.

He did not dislike their uniformity, but he was a stark and willing contrast to such. A free spirit, who did as he pleased. Whether for, or against, it mattered not. He was. .

He was something else.

But Matryona should see it then! On his shoulders rests not one, but two! And, perhaps then, should she have a peace of mind!

Home, home! The candor of blood and freshly slain meat, and cherished memories!

It stirs something in him, akin to tears, though he does nothing to stop them from falling. He instead seems earnestly pleased, watery smile as obvious as the light in the sky.

All is at it is intended to be.

And it is.

But there is forth coming, more. More, it seems! She can leave, but she does not.

He supposes there should be entertainment until the very end.
(Lyael)
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[00:16] {Lost Dangerous RPB against Lyael}
[00:16] * You have been awarded 1 Roleplay Points! *
[00:16] ** Lyael has inflicted an injury upon Matryona pyr Docro. ("Permanent Injury", "Permanent Injury", "Permanent", "Severity: MODERATE (-10 Vit)") **
[00:28] They swirl like koi in a pond, surrounding his head. One could assume they were fish, yes? But they are not!

White and Black, instinct and emotion, pride and product as well as reason and result. These are the things that attempt to blind him, yet they do not. For his sight is that beyond the normal means.

He can witness, and view the world as it is. A beautiful place, filled with beautiful things, and beautiful creatures.

However, the souls of many are damned, they do not deserve such a home! It would be. . better for it all to sway away into nothing. And so, he shall see to it.

"You are brave, I will lend this much to you! You know not what stands before you, what you lay eyes upon!"

His words coerce amid the thrill of their battle, his celestial energy blasting her full on, leading him in mad dashes and furious frenzies alike. Until, finally, he brings her down with the stroke of his blade, down. . down. . down.

And he enjoys the due process.

Whittling away at the resolute lamb until she was naught but wool-less, quivering, defeated.

He licks his lips amid his crouch, observing her, and as he considers it he reaches out.

She must taste rather sweet. Her blood would have a sturdy, fine taste. Her meat must be so hard, though. Not very fun to chew, but the challenge has afforded her this right, she is worthy. Father, she is indeed worthy.

And so, he encroaches, digging his sharpened claws into her throat as easy as one dips a finger into pie. Blood pools at the spaces he has created and he digs even deeper, nearly to her trachea.

Mmm. . .but, that's no fun. I. . should savor this. She should also be one of my final prizes, yes?

He stops then, shaking his head. And he stands, then, dusting himself off.

"Rejoice, you have been marked."

Departure soon follows.
(Lyael)
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[00:43]
{LOAD GAME}

[00:43] You've received 15 daily salary from The Docro Family.
[01:19] Not a lamb but a cog. Hard, sturdy, capable of rust but she never will corrode. She shines, bright, growing and spinning with delight.

As now, she spins- Exchanging then the blow of blades- Steel clashes, the sound like music to her ears. Warfare. She can lose here, like anywhere, cut down like the soldiers to limp to the side.

Matryona didn't want to die like that. Like Neoni, Alpha, Psenio, Zummurud. She's stiff, breathing far more ragged as nerves threaten to overtake her.

'The wolf is scary.'

In her haze did she see a little girl. An illusion? Surely. A lapse of judgment in a mind quelled by substances. 'The Wolf is scary, I hate it here.' She- this girl, speaks out.

Her gaze widens. Not here. Not now. She's meant to be better. Why then do they flare now? Distractions.

The Captain came close, beaten and battered or not. Yet maybe that was her mistake. Stars have no place for a woman as herself, after all.

Strikes bring her down, like a frenzy that leaves her bleeding, defeated. She hit the ground hard. Thud. Weapon slipping from her grasp.

There's little time to back away when the large Ookami crouched beside her. For the first time she's frozen, still. Sienna hues widen and her breath staggers.

Get away from me, get away from me, get away from me.

Stiffness breaks in shakes. Oh, she trembles when he crouches beside her. Struck then for the first time since her childhood with fear.

She can't move and he can.

Crouched beside her, watched like prey. Will she beg? No. Not even when claws pierce flesh and she's too stunned to get. They dig, blood spills. Her gaze glossed over with a flowing flood that fell down stained cheeks.

It hurts and she wants to scream. Nearly does she, the sound parts her, pained as she finds herself choking. Is she going to die? Vision blurs with tears.

Then suddenly, he stops. He leaves.

The Captain laid there, choking on her own blood and tears. Fear grasped her mind, every facet and all she could see was the wolves she's feared for so long.
(Matryona pyr Docro)
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