TAKE ALL OF THE PAIN AWAY | {OPEN, KILL, 100TH POST}

[| KILLUA ZOLDYCK |]

[align=center]

[shadow=darkblue,right]KILLUA[/shadow]

.

(This is really long so this is the tldr since I don't expect EVERYONE to read through all of it although its much appreciated. Also pls pls pls you don't not have to match muse bc the length is ridiculously long, any post is massively appreciated. Over the course of the week, Killua has become more and more mentally unstable thanks to his brother's influence. He has secluded himself from a lot of Snowbound members in order to keep from accidentally killing them. In this thread, Killua becomes too exhausted to the point that he doesn't care what he does anymore. At this point, his brother Illumi takes control of his brother's action and makes him go out for a walk in the territory very early in the morning. Killua stops slightly outside of the border of Snowbound where he sets up an ambush (at this point his body is moving on his own and he isn't thinking), and two animals approach the tree that he had been in. A black stripped arctic wolf, and a melanistic leopard. Killua kills the two innocent creature in cold blood just outside of the border. However, Killua makes it looks like they had attacked him. Giving himself wounds, and setting up the scene like an actual battle scenario. He made sure to leave his fur in between the claws of his victim, leave his fur on the side of a tree to make it seem like he had been thrown, removed one of the wolf's teeth and stuck it into a tree, and used the leopards claws to create a decently sized wound on his side. Now, Killua is simply standing in the snow, covered in blood from his victims, but also his own thanks to self-inflicted wounds. No one will be around quick enough to see him kill them, but will simply come across the scene. There is currently no emotion in Killua's eyes, and he'll state to those that ask him that it was self-defense. Please note he will not accept any means to try and tend to his wounds
Injuries: a Large gash on his left shoulder, scrapes across his body, long wound on his right side made by the leopard's claws)

Redemption. He should have known that there wasn't going to be any sort of redemption for him, no matter how far he went in this world. Whether he was going back to his family or simply sticky by the clans themselves. Part of him knew that from the very beginning that his goal of trying to redeem himself for the bad things he had done since he was just a kitten was going to be difficult and probably wouldn't work. He had fed himself his own lies out of spite for the manipulative nature of the rest of his family. The assassin had wanted to at least wonder what it would like if he acted like any other regular clanner, but he also knew that he would probably never fit in like the rest unless he conformed to what they wanted. Which he wasn't prepared to do, because if he let himself fall in line wasn't that the same as letting others manipulate him? Maybe his brother had been right from the beginning. There was nothing in this world that was here for him, he wasn't a clanner, he was a Zoldyck. Probably the furthest a creature could be when in regard to that of a clanner. He had grown up having no morals, growing up knowing that killing was probably an activity that he would be doing the rest of his life. The torture the went through was for the better good, that had been what he was told at a very young age when he was just starting to realize what the world would be like if he ever traveled through it. Being the obedient son he was, he didn't bother to argue with the rest of his family for all the constant work that they put him through. Him arguing would probably end up having him getting punished for even sort of raising his voice toward others. He was taught at an early age how to respect those that were stronger and older than he was, speaking formally to his father and grandfather for the biggest hurtle of his life. He loved his father, his mother had started to get on his nerve at this point, and he wasn't sure what think of his mentor of an older brother. Part of him feared him, and the other didn't mind being around his side. All his older brother talked about was the business and where he would head in life. He had heard the story over and over again. There were times that Killua would sneak out of the castle, and try to find a secluded spot. No butlers. No family. And he would just sit there, gazing at the stars that he would never bbe able to see anywhere but on the mountain that hey lived on. He had already agreed to the thought at that age that he was going to stay at this castle for the rest of his life. What else was he going to do? His family didn't reveal much about the real world other than that power was the way to get through life in the world. He didn't tell them the different cultures that they had and what they believed in, keeping it all secret from him. After all, he was their little toy that was going to be morphed into whatever they wanted. He had no idea what was happening because they had already weaved their black tendrils through his face and mind.

There was no escape once they had him in their clutches, even if he started to second guess himself on whatever they were teaching him. The tortures they put him through had certainly been traumatic and would be for the rest of the majority of his life. There was no hiding it forever. The thought of his family constantly digging its way back up through the depths of his mind. There was no escape for him once he was in their clutches. No matter how much he could try and fight it for the rest of his life or try to find a cure for the curse that haunted him since he left that damned castle. It was around the time that he was near a clans apprentice age that he started to realize that he had been lied too for a majority of his life. At this point, he had been through numerous types of jobs that he was successful in. But during the time in the field, he was able to observe those that weren't part of his mission and were simply walking around. They seemed happy, but what was that reason? Most of his childhood he kept a stoic facial expression, making it extremely difficult to show others how he felt when he confronted them. Unless he was trying to get them on his side. Killua started to study other regular creatures in his spare time. His family didn't know about this because he was experienced enough to go on a mission by himself. He grew confused. They seemed to be treating each other with affection. What were those movements that they were doing to each other? They were holding each other close, the reason was something that Killua didn't quite understand at the moment. There was no redemption to be had no matter how far he did. How many families did he end up destroying? How many communities were overthrown due to the Zoldyck's evolvement? How many faces had he stared at when their life slowly drained itself into the Earth. He was a liar, he played games with other's minds, he was manipulative, he barely had any morals. All of which was a combination of a bomb that was bound to go off when that creature was struggling with identifying exactly what he was. Was he an assassin? Was he not? He had no one around to give him answers, and he wasn't about to go and search for his family for any of them. That's exactly what they would have wanted. He wasn't a good guy and didn't believe that fully, he could ever be the good guy. His paws would be stained with the blood of those that he had killed in the past. The blood of those that were probably innocent, but someone had wanted them dead. All the kills that he made hadn't been anything personal in regarding himself. It was just business. That was all it had ever been. He wasn't in the business anymore. Did that mean that he didn't have to kill anyone anymore? Was that what he wanted though? Some small portion of his thoughts began to contradict themselves. Killua knew that he didn't want to kill for business anymore.

But what about killing outside of the business? Would he be willing to do that? From his experience, he at least felt a little bit of something when he still killed others. He always thought of it as being some sort of challenge for him to overcome. Too much had happened in a short span of time. Killua didn't think that others would know him in a place such as this. So far from the clans that he had actually ended up coming from. But he did end up meeting someone that he didn't remember. He didn't REMEMBER. Why couldn't he remember? Something had to have happened. It was during this time that the voice in his head started to come back to him, causing pain to rupture through his skull. An almost familiar feeling at this point. Killua didn't really know how to react to the other calling him out by name. The other said that he had killed one of her children, which he couldn't remember. Why couldn't he REMEMBER? It made no sense to him. No one could have entered his mind without him knowing. The powers that he had in place for that to keep anything bad happening to him and to keep others from finding out secrets. The other started talking to him about topics that he felt like he should know. He didn't understand, so he called her a liar. That's what he believed her to be after all. Until it all started to link why he couldn't remember certain aspects of his memories. Each time he tried, he got a headache. That headache again. Illumi instructed him to kill her. Which made complete sense. If she knew about him there was a chance that she knew about the rest of the Zoldyck family. She knew too much. But something didn't sit well with the serval, and he forced himself to stop his actions completely by causing himself an injury. An injury that was easy enough for him to hide so others wouldn't suspect anything else happening. Someone had done something to him, and he was about to find out. There was another instance that had trigged him completely. That instance is when a Typhoon member came into the clan and decided to attack London. Killua wasn't exactly sure what he was really expecting, as he knew that he was here to no good. He ended up keeping London from dying at that moment, having a mutation in her blood that kept it from clotting. A feeling that he knew all too well when his older brother usually attacked him with various different forms of poison at his disposal. Killua attacked the creature that had done the deed and realized how easy it was for him. Of course, it was. She was a clanner after all and most of them were physically weak at least compared to himself. But there was something that he felt during the fight. Killua had ended up cutting the female's tendons in her back leg. She had let out a cry of pain. It was there that Killua felt a familiar feeling in the middle of his chest. SATISFACTION. He was happy that he had managed to cause the other pain. It gave him the satisfaction that he still had it in him as an assassin. One that could cause others pain and agony for the short moments that they were usually alive. He felt happy to hear the other cry out in pain for that split second. A feeling that he used to get when he was just a kitten when he went out on missions.

When he was a kitten he was excited to take the lives of others. It gave him a high when he did so. Now though? The feeling had dulled down. But when he realized that feeling came back, the feeling that he had tried to smother to the best of his ability, it still squirmed its way up through his body. It was like a disease, as it would start in one portion of his body and then begin to spread the rest of it. His older brother decided to chip in his head again at this point, telling him to kill the female that was underneath his paws. But he didn't want to kill her. Not only because it partly felt wrong, but also out of consideration that there were two other clanners around him that would see him do the deed. Everything that he had worked up to would be ruined. So instead, Killua had opted to simply beat the shit out of the female in the meantime. Killua's condition had steadily become worse as the days decided to carry on. He did his best as trying to avoid as many clanners as possible. It would only make him controlling his emotions a lot harder to deal with if someone did something to piss him off it could end off in disaster. Killua needed to do something though, anything to keep his mind off of the annoying whispers that were going through his head. At the moment his temper was incredibly short, and since he hadn't been sleeping it also wasn't really helping his case. It was early morning by the time that Killua decided to leave the cave that he had considered to be his own separate den. A small cave that was separate from the camp, by several yards, as he didn't trust those that were in snowbound enough to sleep around them. Or was it the factor that he didn't trust himself enough to be around others? He didn't know the answer. The cold did help to clear his head a little bit, but everything around him put on edge. Thanks to his acute hearing, he would hear something scuttling to the left side of him, causing him to stop completely, his head snapping in the direction that he heard the noise. In the distance, he could see a small snow hare that was running through the grass after having barely spotted the serval standing in the snow. It was just a rabbit. A damned rabbit. He forced his breath to calm himself down as he continued walking, in a particular direction he didn't really care about all that much. The young male didn't even notice that he was walking to the border. Each step his paws took, his body almost seemed to start sinking closer to the ground, his head hanging low in a way that probably showed others where he was emotionally. A emotional facial expression was all that one could see, and each step his eyes grew a couple shades darker here and there. The entire time he walked voices went through his head. The voice of his older brother. The one that had raised him to be the assassin that he was today. No matter what his brother was saying, Killua wasn't even remotely struggling against them. Why should he? He was right after all. He had enjoyed hurting that member and without any remorse. He was almost always begging for battle because that's what he enjoyed. Even if there was a chance of him getting injured, he hunted for the feeling of adrenaline going through his body.

You only feel excited when you take the lives of others.Yes
You don't need to be emotionally attached to anyone. I raised you as such. Yes
All you think about when you meet someone is figuring out whether or not you can kill them or if they are a threat.Yes
You are an assassin and always will be. There is nothing you can do to change that.

Yes. Yes YeS. YES. He knew. Had he always known? Part of him agreed with everything that Illumi said. A family was always right after all. He had committed horrible crimes. Anyone he would tell what he did would look at him at the horror of the things that he had done. He wanted so badly to just belong. Somewhere. Conflicted feelings ran through the albino serval's head over and over again. The voice repeating the same words over and over again as he moved forward. Killua had managed to move in the direction of the border. Well, he honestly hadn't been paying attention to where he had been walking in the first place. The young male had made his way past the border by several feet, and his eyes were searching. Searching for anything that could be around. In his own thoughts, he didn't know what he was searching for, but his body did. The assassin's claws were already unsheathed as he looked up at a tree that was a bit of a distance away. He could hear voices of others. They obviously weren't snowbound, but there were at least two other sentient animals that he could hear. Most likely loners. Killua teleported himself into the tree that wasn't that far away, keeping himself invisible. When it came to doing a job, it didn't matter how many powers he used. He could use them for as long as he wanted. There was no malice in the voices that were coming toward him, directly under the tree branch that he had perched himself on. His eyes didn't look like the eyes that had belonged to a child. There was no longer any emotion in his eyes. Some that saw his eyes often said that he looked like he possessed the eyes of someone that had spent their entire life in hell. They would probably be right because that was all the Zoldyck's had been to him. His body moved with the muscle memory that he had crafted since he was just a kitten. His head turned to look at the two figures that came into view. All of them were adults from the looks of it. One was a feline, and the other was a canine. The other was a full grown male arctic wolf, based on the species specifics of the other's body structure, although it didn't have the fur of an arctic wolf. It almost had stripes of that of a tiger and was covered in some scars here and there. Obviously having been experienced with a battle. Killua then turned his attention toward the other's companion. They weren't close to each other's side from the looks of it. Probably no form of romantic relation. Hell, it was practically impossible to tell with the likes of the clans around as anyone could be siblings and have different bodies. The other's walking companion was that of a black female leopard. A mutation that wasn't really common in said breed, but it didn't matter to Killua what they looked like. He calculated which one was probably stronger, and considered the full-grown wolf to be more of a threat once the battle really started. Would it really be a battle though? Probably not.

The invisible serval would move into a standing position on the branch, not bothering to listen to the conversation that they were having. Closer. Closer. Closer they came. Usually, when it came down to situations such as this one, Killua would end up killing those that were up to no good. Meaning him killing someone was actually justified to a degree. These animals, however? He had no background information on them, and if he did any, he would have figured out that these animals had done nothing wrong their entire life. At least nothing worthy of being noted as a crime anyway. Time ticked by before they finally came underneath the tree, their paws crunching in the nearby snow. No noise was made when Killua let himself drop down onto the next branch, that was almost near neck level with the tiger stripped arctic wolf. Bunching up the muscles in his back legs, the wildcat burst forward, his metal claws unsheathed. Gaining enough speed for any sort of attack could deal a large amount of damage once the attack actually landed. In a split second, the ivory-hued serval could feel his claws sink deep into the neck of the animal that he clung to the side of. Blood splattered onto his face and arm, showing signs that he had hit the artery that he had been looking for. Removing his paw from the canine's neck, the wolf would drop down onto the ground and would convulse for a couple of seconds before it could no longer provide blood to the rest of its organs. Killua had turned off his invisibility at this point and turned his attention toward the female leopard that was looking at him in shock. She was a lot bigger than he was, and he doubted that she would be willing to fight back all that much. The assassin stepped off of the quickly cooling corpse of the canine and walked silently toward the female, gauging her moves, but it was obvious that she would receive no mercy from him. "P-Please!" The female screamed as she backed up against a tree, having Killua approach her even quicker. A cornered animal was bound to show some sort of violence, and he was right in that regard as she lunged forward to try and snap her jaws around his smaller head. Killua sidestepped her action, and in the middle of her pounce, the wildcat had raised his left arm, and let the leopard run into his paw. It did knock him to the ground along with her thanks to her momentum, but the damage had been done. As soon as she landed on the ground with his paw sticking out from the bottom of her neck, he made sure to use his other paw and sink his claws into the side of her neck as deeply as he could. His metal claws were sharper than that of a sword, and he felt no resistance against her flesh. He listened to the gurgling sound that she emitted as she tried to breathe, but without any luck. No other cries for help escaped the two individuals, and Killua got off the corpse of the leopard. The two corpses were fairly close to one another, and the blood seeped into the snow, the contrasting colors easily visible. Killua wasn't an idiot though, he didn't want to make it seem like nothing had happened after all.

Emotionlessly, he listened to the voice that was in his head, raising one of his paws and sinking his claw into his own left shoulder. Killua felt no pain, well, if he did he definitely didn't show it on any of his facial features. Mixtures of blood merged together. Moving toward a tree, he would rub his body up against it, as it makes it seem like he had been thrown against the tree. Killua moved toward the body of the leopard as blood dripped down his left leg, using his right paw, he would step down onto the tendons that made it so that the feline would unsheathe her claws. Flipping the paw so that it was pointed upward, Killua dragged his side across the female's claws, this way if anyone wanted to search between the other's claws for his fur in an investigation they would find it. Killua knew that he still needed to be careful with his injuries, as he was a young serval after all. He could die from blood loss if he wasn't careful. Blinking his eyes he looked at the scene that was around him, before moving toward the dead wolf that was on the ground. Opening the other's jaw, he would remove one of the others teeth using his metal claws, and managed to stab it into an adjacent tree. To make it look like the other had lunged at Killua while he was cornered at the tree, only for Killua to move out of the way and for the wolf to lose one of his canine teeth. There were enough tracks in the snow for him not to need to make tracks in the snow to make the scene acceptable. Now it looked exactly like he had been attacked by the two animals and he killed them in his own defense. Anyone around would be drawn to the blood scene. Killua's own wounds dripped down onto the ground, but it wasn't anything that was life-threatening. He had maybe thought that he would have felt something by killing these animals. And now as he looked up at the sky, the assassin felt nothing. In fact, he felt even more empty that he had before. Only a portion of his mind felt proud that he was actually able to accomplish the kill without any issues. There was no emotion as he looked up at the sky, knowing it was only a matter of time before others came to him. He killed innocent creatures. He felt nothing. Had his brother been right?

snowbound -- apprentice -- male -- 8 moons

[sub]template © olivan 
[/sub]

[ARGUS]

Loud mom track (Will delete if you want sorrel!)

[melantha]

[div style="max-width: 600px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 9pt;"]becoming like somebody else is not always done through manipulation, nor is acting in a manner believed to be acceptable by the group you wish to accept you. manipulation is conducted in secret, subtle gestures. a whisper here, a touch there. there is no free will involved. however, it is the nature of social creatures to mimic the behavior of others in order to show respect and a desire to be accepted. and children mimic their parents on how to behave and think. you can always choose not to. in manipulation, you believe there is no other choice. so thinking that attempting to integrate into a group is like being manipulated is stupid. freedom of choice is present, thus, no one can control your thoughts. granted, if there is anything melantha can relate to, it is the suspicion of other people's actions. she, too, questions people's motives, constantly on alert for any sign that someone cannot be trusted. mel's life did not involve a childhood of grooming to become the perfect assassin, but she was thrust into a cruel and unforgiving world in which she had to learn the hard way or risk death. no one was around to teach her aside from the merciless forest and all its cruel inhabitants. driven on by desperation, melantha picked up on skills her parents would have not taught her for several months. the terrifying sight of a bear's powerful teeth as it roars at her taught her to eat food as quickly as possible and get out. there is no room for transient predators in the world. starvation forced her to learn how to hunt all manner of creatures, and which foliage to supplement herself on when nourishment was scarce.

the point is that freedom of choice overrides the possibility of manipulation. mel became like other predators not because somehow the universe and all the random inhabitants possessed some grand scheme to force her to be that way. she became like other predators because she recognized how the world works, and if she wants to survive, she will have to become like everyone else to do so. life is always a competition, and only the best competitor wins. in killua's case, perhaps he is allowing himself to be manipulated by the memories of the brother who groomed him to become a person he does not like, but the role his brother played in his life was so great that killua has become hesitant to truly leave it behind despite his clear distaste. it's a hard path to take, but everyone has to take it one day. usually, for normal people like melantha, she had to give up her role as the child and become the adult far before her time. and for killua, maybe he will have to give up being an extraordinary assassin and embrace the normality of clan life. alas, none of this philosophical is relevant, as melantha has no was of knowing what goes on inside killua's brain. even if she did, she probably would not care so much to go on a long rant unless it was about how stupid she thinks he is.

in reality, the young huntress is drawn to the scent of blood, not a philosophical discussion. copper and iron permeate the cold air, and although melantha ate first thing in the morning, she cannot resist the urge to investigate. there is so much blood that nearly puts her in a trance. mel cannot ignore her opportunistic hunter's instincts even if she wanted to. for far too long, she has trained herself to search for the faintest hint of food and nourish herself as quickly as possible before leaving just as quickly. large paws scarcely break the upper crust of the snow as the lithe creature trots from cover to cover, her approach zig-zagging in a natural aversion to giving up the advantage of cover. mel is a creature of habit, and even though she is relatively safe in snowbound, she is unwilling to give up the practices she picked up out in the wilds. the only way to stay sharp is to practice every day of her life. she follows her nose, taking the time to pinpoint the exact point of origin by parting her jaws slightly and using the olfactory receptors on upper lining of her mouth. given as she began close to camp, it takes about five minutes to trace the scent at a hastened pace. she arrives silently, careful to circle around downwind of the area just in case whoever did the killing happens to still be in the area. unbeknownst to melantha, he is, but he appears as the victim.

"maker..." she breathes sharply, stepping out of the shadows and into the clearing as sagacious green eyes sweep over her surroundings. upon seeing the carnage and the blood-soaked killua, she sweeps her gaze over him to survey his wounds. melantha may act distant, but she does care. deep down. "killua...what... what happened?" questions the young wildcat, creeping closer to the scene of the crime. at first, she feels a mixture of concern and amazement. concern for her first almost-friend outside of her family, an amazement that he could take on two bigger animals and still come out on top. but then she notices the empty look in his eyes, like his mind is far away from his body. that is what gives her the feeling that something is not right here. perhaps she is just paranoid, but as mel begins to look around once more, she cannot rid herself of the feeling that everything appears too perfectly chaotic. however, there is no way to be sure, especially since killua is littered in wounds. still... that expression.. melantha is perceptive, but she does not possess all the answers of the universe. as much as she does not trust the story the crime scene tells her, mel has no way to prove it otherwise. she may not like it, but she will ignore the suspicion this time, even if it continues to eat away at the part of her that wishes to know the answers to everything. "are you...okay? can i do something?" she cringes at her words. of course he isn't okay! her very clearly isn't physically okay, and she is even more doubtful of what's going on upstairs. but it's not a secret that mel is not very good at being nice or showing concern or anything that doesn't involve being mean and sarcastic.

[Kayn]

I lost my dreams in this disaster

Kayn — Male — Snowbound — Warrior —  Difficult

(DISCLAIMER: Only the last two paragraphs are extremely pertinent to the situation at hand! Feel free to only read those two! Tl;dr Kayn had an emotionally traumatic trip down memory lane from the scent of blood and awoke the feelings he felt when he'd had a demon attached to his soul.)

The lupine looked out across the snow, mind alive with many thoughts racing through his head. Kayn had begun settling into his new home, this Snowbound as it were, but he couldn't shake the worries that eternally plagued his mind. Something could go wrong at any moment. He didn't know these people. Neither did Raine or Ecto, to his knowledge. It was all entirely new and that came with the dangers of the unknown that he'd seen far too deeply within. Information was a very powerful thing that could give you absolute control over another or drive an individual to unending reaches of insanity. Often he'd heard the expression 'sticks and stones can break my bones, but words can't hurt me', but the Eurasian Wolf knew that to be one of the biggest lies ever to fall upon his sensitive ears. Words had more power than any tooth, claw, or bolt of lightning ever could. Concepts were an immortal thing that held immense usefulness for those that could rally others behind the cause. That's all a clan really was, wasn't it? A charismatic individual bending the will of others to suit their needs, but slyly making it seem as if it was a boon. It wasn't. Far from it even. Kayn had first hand experienced the cruelty of those that led the lives of clanners since the very moment he'd been born into the world. It was an unforgiving existence that cared not for him or those he cared about. But then, in those days, who had he truly cared about?

Well, his family of course. They meant everything to him in he days of his youth. Not Raine and Ectoplasmicjoy who he'd come to know more recently and be taken in by. No, his true family. The ones who shared the very same blood that coursed strongly throughout every vein in his body, heart eagerly pumping out the necessary liquid of life as he gazed upon the blinding white landscape. Almost as if summoned from his thoughts, the scent of blood wafted through the air on the frigid winds. It brought with it memories that Kayn had been trying to suppress, but slowly a snarl began to rumble from his chest. Painful reminiscences of the past rushed through him, the once slightly repressed memories relapsing to the forefront of his mind like it did ever time he began to panic. In his early days, weeks, and months as a pup he'd been subjected to countless hardships. One clan attacked them. Then the next. And then another would eventually come. The constant threat of others had been heavily ingrained into his mind from countless hours spent shivering in fear. Remembering how it felt to be scared was a weird feeling indeed for the Snowbounder. As he slowly got older though he realized he would have to be the one to step up to defend his siblings, especially in the absence of his father who he now knew was fraternizing with vile criminals at the time instead of protecting the children he'd brought into the world. Kayn had been forced to grow up far too earlier for such a young pup. The alternative was death, to him, his family, and maybe even the rest of his clan should he have faltered. Perhaps they'd have even been subjected to worse. In those times the clans had been rife with creatures more than willing to take advantage of the young and naive in ways that sickened the lupine. It still did even in the present day mindset of the wolf. They were all deserving of death. It was a realization that he'd come to finally when the weight of the world crushed his shoulders beneath the immeasurable responsibility such a young pup had been relegated to dealing with alone. Where one might have looked hoping to see the innocence of a child would instead stand the jaded expression of one would go on to commit countless atrocities. It all started with a young pup who merely wished to defend the things he cared about from the ruthless monsters that vied mercilessly to rip the things he held dear to his once pure heart. But alas, all good things must come to an end. That was a truth Kayn knew all too well.

Eventually, deep within the temple he'd grown up within, the darkness in his heart had silently called out to a creature far more shrouded in hatred than any of the filthy clanners he'd vowed to rend the throats of. Did he regret taking the plunge into the depths of his home that day? Kayn still wasn't entirely sure if it had turned out to be worth all the pain in hindsight. Unknowingly he had ventured further into the depths of his home, exploring areas he could have sworn he'd already been through a thousand times. Despite that near absolute assurance, there was a new corridor that he had never seen before. It was unexplored by anyone in the clan, dust within the halls showing the likely hundreds of years it had gone untouched. Even at such a young age he had been a brave soldier for his clan, like he would eventually be for his new home. Without hesitation he pressed further in, not entirely sure of what he was hoping to find. Eventually the torches of the temple no longer lit the dark corridor, but still he persevered. Minutes turned into hours, and hours turned into what felt like days. Yet he hungered for nothing and his perseverance never wavered. Finally he reached the end of the corridor, the path splitting into two more. In an ancient language which he shouldn't have been able to read, one over each path, read 'Loyalty' and 'Power'. As Kayn recalled that memory he couldn't help but feel responsible for all of the bad in his life. It was his choice, driven by greed and hatred, that had brought the world down upon him. That was the moment when Kayn solidified the corruption that had fostered in his heart over the months of his youth. Not a moment after he read both had he decided to choose the path offering power. It opened into a former throne room with the skeleton of a human child wearing a jagged bone crown. Despite the endless amounts of wealth in the room, the crown called to the wolf. It hummed with energy and sang a siren song to his young mind. Kayn stole the crown from the long dead human and put it on, claiming the power for himself. Searing pain tore into his thoughts and caused him to black out. Of course the naive pup had decided to take some sort of ancient artifact for himself. He likely would have done it again if given the choice today. When he awoke later, it was at the entrance to the undiscovered corridor, except nothing was there. The wolf checked over and over, but it was nothing more than a wall. Except the crown was on his head still, devoid of the power it held seemingly moments before. And then he heard a rumbling laugh of a great beast echoing in the back of his thoughts, ripping through his mind with force that brought the pup to his knees. It was a feeling that, even when remembering it, made him shiver. Not from the sting of the snow, but from the uncomfortable chill up his spine from that eerie laugh.

It was on that day he'd released Fenrir, the wolf destined to eat the gods. Their souls had bound to one another for what Kayn had thought would be eternity. The demon wormed it's way through every ounce of his being without consent, absorbing who he was and spitting out a corrupt facsimile of the once noble pup. His soul had once been pure like the beautiful white powder that coated his new home, but it had been twisted by the ancient monstrosity. Kayn had already been a jaded emotional mess from the rough fight for his life since the day he'd been born, however Fenrir brought with it depths of darkness the lupine hadn't thought possible. The things the creature had done... The things it wanted to do still... The things it made him want to do... It had all been too much for Kayn to handle alone. The wolf could feel himself slipping closer to the sheer drop of insanity. His mind swirled with alien thoughts that didn't belong to him, emotions that disgusted him, and knowledge that made him shiver from the vastness of reality. It was not meant for him to see. It was the unknown that no mortal, or even immortal, should have ever been given the chance to look into. Kayn had glanced beyond the fog of obscurity and what he saw broke him. What he learned shattered the young pup. This was why the human child must have died so young with the crown still upon its' head. Unlike the human though, Kayn refused to falter even after the glimpse into infinity. The wolf would not fall to the demon. He had a family to protect. He couldn't allow himself to fail, simply because failure of any kind had long since ceased to be an option if the things he cared about would continue to exist. Instead of falling prey to the black tendrils of insanity, he embraced it. He felt Fenrir within him finally with nary a barrier between the two. God, he had never felt as good as that moment. The sheer power he felt flowing through him made every fiber of his being flare with life. He wanted more. No, needed more. Even as he grimaced looking out upon the drifts of snow, especially with the scent of blood in his nostrils, he still wanted more.

Armed with the powers granted to him by Fenrir and a twisted no state of mind, the young pup had decided to scour every inch of his territory for something like the demon. Kayn had practically become obsessed with the search for such an unrealistic experience, to feel the rush of a new entity joining with his own. Eventually though, he found a scythe at the bottom of a deep ravine. It called out to him and frantically he searched until he unearthed the blade of millennia. It was forged from wicked black metal and a bright red eye locked on him. Within his mind another voice spoke, but it was not the chaotic howling of Fenrir. Will you prove worthy? Those words still echoed in his head. Had he proven worthy? Kayn supposed that was a matter of perspective. Without a moment of hesitation he picked up the scythe which he would later find out to be named Rhaast. Once again he dropped his barrier to a demon, only this time it was of his own free will. The vastness of this other creature was entirely different than that of the god devourer, but the familiar rush was just as addicting. This entity was far more intelligent in it's mannerisms however, unlike the bestial nature of the first demon he'd bound with. It explained to him, having scoured his mind, that his soul was wavering and wouldn't be capable of handling a third demon melded with it. Instead though, it offered him the alternative choice of consuming the souls of mortals. Kayn gladly accepted the proposal. Perhaps that was what truly made him insane in the end.


The wolf's paws clenched in the snow, the soft white frozen liquid making a satisfying crunch like that of bones would snapped. It still bothered him that he had agreed to commit those atrocities. He'd only managed to become addicted to the feeling of absorbing souls, and none of it had mattered in the end. Despite every ounce of power he held within him after the two demonic entities and the countless souls he'd ripped from the victims of anyone unfortunate enough to cross his path, not a goddamn moment of it had mattered. An enemy clan had struck while he was out satisfying his darker desires, and he'd arrived back home to watch his territory burn down. Fire still made him uncomfortable even after the many months since it happened. All Kayn could do was simply watch in horror as everything he had ever known burned to the ground. As clan members tried to flee they were picked off one by one the realization that his siblings might suffer the same cruelty materialized in his thoughts. Unfortunately though fate was a cruel mistress to the black lupine, as it had been since the regretful day of his birth. Several of his siblings had fallen prey to the fires, but what came next tore the last vestiges of innocence from him. Kayn watched as his parents defended his sister from attackers, the last remaining sibling of his and the smallest of the litter. They turned to look at him at the familiar scent of their son, but that was when the invaders took their opportunity. Kayn watched from afar, helpless to stop the slaughter of his parents. The moment the light of life left their eyes shattered his heart. It was the brutal gutting of his sister after though that finally broke him. Replaying the scene in his mind almost as vividly as they day it had happened, eyes staring blankly into the distance, broke him again. The night of his family's death had been a blank spot in his memory, but when he awoke he'd been drenched in blood. And he'd loved it.

The midnight lupine stood to his paws, the scent of blood mixing with his memory to awaken something dark within him. Kayn had finally managed to purge the demons from his soul and absorb their powers a few months ago, but the presence they left upon him had scarred his mind forever. The wolf could still hear them as loudly as when he was a pup. They whispered dark lies and sang beautiful lyrics of enticement to the black lupine. Kayn shut his eyes and started shaking his head in defiance, but their voices wouldn't stop. And that feeling. That fucking feeling. Oh that familiar hunger was rising from deep within him. He'd tried to start a new chapter in his life with his new family, devoid of the darkness he'd always known his entire life, but Kayn was a broken vessel for monsters. Only instead of remaining that, he'd simply become the monster. He understood that the demons in his soul hadn't been the cause of all the things he'd done because he still wanted to do them. The taste of crimson blood coating his throat was divine, and the feeling of ripping a soul from another sentient creature was pure ecstasy; even the drugs he'd done growing up in a clan of gangsters couldn't compare to the rush he felt when denying another being the right to live. Kayn hated that he had become the same as the vile individuals he'd despised as a pup. He hated himself. But god did he love the feeling. Before he knew it he had already sank low to the ground, stalking in the direction of the blood that had been upon his sensitive nose for the last couple of minutes. As the memories had surged forth so had the old Kayn, a prowling demon ready to devour anything that was unfortunate enough to have a beating heart. Try as he might to resist it, the hunger had already gripped his mind. The emotions sprinting through his thoughts were too much for him to handle so the wolf had simply given into the desires, wishing to wash away the pain by embracing his darkness once again. Fenrir was no longer with him, but that didn't mean the whispers in his head were wrong about him. Kayn was the definition of a monster. The wolf was almost in a full sprint towards the source of the scent when he realized he'd accidentally begun looking into the spiritual realm in an effort to hunt for souls. In the distance Kayn noticed an orb, a dark blue sphere that visually sparked with energy. As he got closer though, he realized it wasn't an orb at all. More accurately, it wasn't a whole one. It looked as if the individuals soul had quite literally been severed in some way, the jagged slice not looking like the natural shape of an aura that he was used to. The edges of the sphere also had a certain jaggedness to them, but it seemed less intentional than the large chunk that appeared to be missing from the creature's spiritual existence. It was a splintered, broken mess and yet.... It looked delicious.

The scene he came across wasn't at all what he expected to find however. The scent of blood led him away from the individual whose aura he had picked up on, instead falling upon the corpse of two individuals. The first he spotted was a wolf like him, not quite as large, but by no means a small creature. A male it looked like. The other was a feline of some sort, but as for the kind he wasn't sure. The now deceased female shared his fur color, however Kayn would make sure that was the only similarity between them. It had only taken the black lupine a moment to analyze the battlefield before finding his gaze landing upon a familiar sight. Killua, the feline who had been there when he arrived in Snowbound. Looking upon the male, despite his age, sent the fur on his spine on end. There was something about the apprentice that made him wary. The lack of a scent. The lack of sound when he moved. And now he knew that Killua was the owner of the fractured aura he had seen from afar. The two individuals next to the boy were dead though and that meant Kayn's bloodlust filled gaze had fallen upon the other Snowbounder. His soul looked irresistible. The black lupine found himself slowly walking closer, one slow step inf front of another. Kayn's head lowered into the stance of a stalking predator. He was about to surge forth when his dual-colored gaze spotted the injuries upon Killua. It appeared that he had arrived at a similar time to someone else from Snowbound, an individual he hadn't yet met, but her scent was still discernible above the blood soaked battlefield. The presence of Melantha snapped the demon-touched lupine out of his instinctual hunting for just a moment, however it was long enough for him to regain his composure and dull the mounting hunger. The wolf shook his head for a moment, doing everything in his power to ignore the two voices sowing lies into his mind. Killua was an ally. The lupine repeated that in his thoughts loudly for a few moments before releasing a heavy sigh. He wasn't a killer, not anymore. The midnight warrior refused to give in to the shadows that had gripped his heart for so long. That certainly didn't stop every fiber of his being from screaming to rip Killua apart, but he held back despite how tempting it would be to simply indulge himself for the first time since he'd purged the darkness from his soul. Clearly not his heart however. "Killua? Are you okay? What exactly happened here?" the lupine called out tentatively to the other male, voice shaking with uncertainty, but it was not with fear. Not of Killua or the individuals he'd been fighting at least. Nor of Melantha who might have caught the hunger filled gaze in his eyes when he approached the scene. No, the fear was of himself and the monster that had been awoken at merely the scent of blood and the sight of a pretty aura. Even despite his resistance of it all, Kayn's eyes were not looking upon the face or the eyes of the apprentice like one might have expected. It was on his center of mass. That sparking, broken thing Killua had for a soul. He wanted it. Though his heart told him he should tend to the other males wounds, his mind encouraged the forbidden desire he'd thought had been sealed away. The wolf was at conflict with himself like it appeared Killua had been in conflict with others not long before. Torn for what he should do Kayn merely let his question hang in the air, refusing to take another step towards the wounded feline for fear he'd do something he'd regret. For fear he'd prove something to Melantha which she'd tell the rest of Snowbound.

#psychosocial.

[london r.]

Death was not a foreign concept to London, in fact, she was quite familiar with it. Prey animals were killed to be eaten, but that was not the kind of death that she was referencing. Though it did saddened her to end the life of a prey animal when she hunted, she knew that she would do her best not to waste it's sacrifice, and that made everything alright again. But that was not the point. That was not what had occurred right at the paws of a creature she had believed to be somewhat of a friend to her. Nor was it as devastating of a sight as what she was about to witness. It wouldn't be the first time she would have seen a corpse, as she'd seen the results of her own mother's suicide, however it didn't stop the girl from feeling a tug at her heartstrings. London had once feared sickness more than death, a silly notion now, but that is because what she had known of death was all positive. Once you died, you would find yourself in a lovely place with all of your loved ones, where you could spend the rest of eternity existing with mirth and joy. But sickness was something that kept you from enjoying your life, it crippled you and made your insides fill with aches and pains. It made you a liability others had to care for, and if filled your loved ones with worry. No, sickness was the real demon, at least, until one had actually witnessed death. Then that logic which had once seemed to hold so much truth became flawed. Because at least with sickness it was possible to get better, however slim the chance may become. Death was permanent, to most creatures at least, and unfortunately, it seemed that it didn't take too much for London to come to face the battle against the grim reaper.

The young albino had known as soon as the metallic aroma of blood had kissed her senses that something was wrong. Finding Jacob would most likely have been the best course of action, but perhaps he would be too late. She couldn't see the sight that had caused the stench quite yet, but as she made her way closer the tang of copper became almost unbearable. It definitely  would have been too late to go looking for Jacob. There was nothing he could do to change this outcome. no matter how unfortunate that may seem. It wasn't as though there was anything that anyone could do now, besides of course attempt to clean up. Yet London was far too numb at the sight to even begin to think such thoughts. All the girl could see was her mother's corpse lying there, even though the rational part of her knew that that wasn't the case. The poisons leaking out of her maw, eyes glazed over, sandy pelt dull and lifeless. The young girl hadn't even been there to see her take her last breath. It had been a horrid moment for the clouded leopard, one that would change her life more than she ever knew it possible. It was the day her childhood had ended, though one might not believe that with the way she behaved. Yet it was undeniable that the experience was one that she would never forget, though part of her wanted to believe it never happened. She had wished so desperately that she had noticed sooner that her mother was struggling, but how was a kid who hadn't known any different supposed to see past the mask one wore when that creature was the one she had believed in most? It was truly a cruel world, there was no denying it.

"I'm sorry."

The words were quiet, but they held so much weight hidden underneath. Usually this would have been the moment when the girl's eyes began to form a liquid film, however the girl stopped herself from allowing any tears to become prominent. The others of the Snowbound did not appear to be that moved by the scene, and although there was discourse in her heart, London would not allow it to affect her. "I'm so sorry mister Killua." she would repeat the phrase louder this time, though the strength in her words had allowed that liquid film to cover her visionaries. "If only I got here sooner I might have been able to help or go get help, and then you wouldn't have gotten so injured. Please forgive me." Perhaps it was somewhat ridiculous for her to apologize for something she couldn't control, but London did not quite seem to realize this. She just felt like a horrible clanmate and an even worse friend, even if she would have been a liability had she been able to help him "fight." He had already saved her once, and she would hate to have to be saved again, but she also wanted to have been able to help instead of being a gawking bystander as she was now. The Snowseeker could possibly have died if he hadn't by some miracle overpowered his two attackers, and London would have felt horrible if that had been the case. She wouldn't have been able to forgive herself if that had happened. She wanted to be there for her clanmates, just as they were for her when she had gotten injured. That was what a clan was for. Why should she expect to be defended if she didn't do the same for others? That would not be right.

[| KILLUA ZOLDYCK |]

[align=center]

[shadow=darkblue,right]KILLUA[/shadow]

.

(Guess who finally had the time to make a decent post wooooooooooo! This got way too long and I got no way to tldr it, the 6 paragraph and onward are the only important paragraphs!)

Strength. It was what made the world spin over and over again. It was how the weak died and the stronger continued to survive longer in their life. He had known this at a very young age thanks to the way that he had been brought up. There were no longer any need to question why other's around him simply started to die. They were just too weak for their own good and there was nothing that anyone could do to save them if they didn't want themselves to get stronger to face those that were stronger than them. Killua had always been naive to the fact that he was the strongest that there would probably ever be in a world like this. He had considered himself to be superior compared to the likes of the clans, or really any other animal that wasn't a Zoldyck. For him to be beaten in a fight would take a lot of skill and his opponent would have to take him off guard at the same time. Killua wasn't weak. He had always been strong and didn't really bother to compare his strength to either his brother or either of the clans that he had decided to live in. Killua always expressed his feelings toward the clan with anyone that he interacted with, an aura of superiority surrounding him all the time. He was a spoiled brat in the sense that he was maybe a bit too confident when it came to the likes of his power. Yet, there hadn't been anyone to beat him in a fight except for one in the clans. He had been utterly disappointed as he always liked somewhat of a challenge when it came to a fight. If he knew that the fight was going to end up boring him then he had no reason to try and draw out the fight when he could just end the life of the one that he was fighting. This train of thought had never really disappeared as he constantly judged and analyzed everyone that he came across. No one could get passed his watchful gaze, and sadly Killua hadn't become an expert when it came to being able to identify if someone was strong or not based on their looks. There was a chance that someone could be strong in a smaller body, but even someone in a smaller body was bound to get overpowered by a being that was at least ten times their size. Killua had always made sure to compensate for this, honing his powers well enough that he would be quick enough to dodge the attacks that came for him by larger creatures. Being one of the fastest species that was on this earth certainly helped him quite a lot. This is how the young male had managed to kill dragons and mythical beasts with a simple flick of his paw and just a couple of his powers. He was dangerous, and he would always remain dangerous. Killua hadn't really realized that while he was growing up, his family had conditioned him to feel only certain emotions while he was training and while he was out on the job. Brainwashing a child at a young age definitely had its benefits, as it would mean they were less likely to struggle against the teaching that was forced into their mind.

He enjoyed the thought of killing others. It meant that each time that he was able to finally go out, it meant that he had a job. The young serval had conditioned himself to feel happy when he took on a job as it meant he was allowed to leave the damned mansion that he was always secluded in and wasn't allowed to leave unless he took out a job. By doing so, Killua was able to learn what the world around him was like, and how others were different compared to the rest of the family. Others were more likely to show emotion compared to another Zoldyck who would do everything in their power to hide their emotions as much as possible. Emotions could be attributed to showing weakness, as an opponent is more than capable of taking advantage of a certain emotion if they knew how the opponent would react to what they said. Angering someone could mean that their attacks became sloppier and easier to read. But pissing off the wrong person could mean that their attacks could come at the opponent a lot harder and would be more accurate. This could be figured out by simply seeing how the opponent held themselves in a conversation. Being able to read body language and emotions on a dime had been part of Killua's training when he was reading the textbooks on anatomy as a kid. Reading body language didn't just help him figure out where a conversation was going, it also helped him figure out where his opponent would end up attacking him. Most animals would tense their muscles in their legs based on what action they were going to end up doing next. Flexing the muscle of a right front limb could mean that they would use that limb to lash out at someone. Tensed back leg muscles usually meant that the animal was going to leap or lunge at something that was in front of him. He also knew a way to make sure those muscles were usually rendered useless. The claws that he had been given when he was a child sharper than that of a knife could easily slice through important sections of a muscle, making it practically useless or extremely painful to use. This is another reason why Killua is cocky when he is interacting with others, as he is able to read their body language and is usually able to gauge their intent unless they were deliberately hiding it. Not like it mattered because if he said something specific, whether it be rude or harsh, anyone could show their true colors for a split second and he would be able to catch up on it. This leads him to already predict what someone is going to do, and no one enjoys someone figuring out what they are going to say next all the time. It could be quite annoying as it means the other won't really be given time to speak all that much. The skills that Killua had learned at a young age ultimately making his life harder for him because they had been bad habits for him over a long time, and there had been no one around that was willing to help him out of the bad habits that he was dealing with.

Killua probably wouldn't even give a chance for someone to help him with his own corrupted mind out of consideration that he doesn't trust anyone in the clans. Most creatures in the clan end up becoming corrupted in some way or another, and their original goals mean that they could use someone. Potentially using Killua for their own means was definitely something that could happen to the young assassin if he wasn't careful enough. Of course, they would have to be as crafty as any Zoldyck member to try and convince him to do something for them. There is, however, something called being far too strong for someone's own good. Power can easily get to someone's head if they start to use that power to gain more power. In the clans, everyone often looked at him like someone that could try and take over a clan for his own enjoyment. They were wrong in that regard, as he had no need to try and manipulate others underneath him to that degree and had never looked forward to potentially being a clan leader. He already hated clan politics after having to deal with them occasionally, and he wasn't exactly the most approachable type of personality out there. Other animals would be better suited for higher positions. Killua did seek power, and that power was going to be used against his family. He knew that he was capable of fighting off his brother and mother. Having taken out his own mother's eyes when she had tried to stand in front of him so that he couldn't leave the damn mansion. Then he took out his second older brother by nearly giving him a fatal wound to the side, dropping the cougar to the ground in just a couple seconds. They had all looked at him in horror. What did they expect? They had bred a killer and had taught him never to trust anyone and show any weakness. He wasn't about to listen to what they had to say to him to try and get him to stay as they were just going to manipulate him again. Killua could take on a number of the Zoldyck members except for three. His father, his grandfather, and Illumi, his older brother. Killua had experience in fighting with his older brother, and nearly dying in the process since he had fought with him. His older brother taking literally everything away from him. Whenever he was around the tiger, the Zoldyck made him feel WEAK. Killua had not been strong enough to accomplish something. It pissed him off to no end that could easily send him into a rage if he wasn't careful and not capable of taking control of his emotions. Killua was confident in his abilities, almost too confident, and when that confidence was taken away from him, he didn't know what else to feel. He felt defeated over and over again, and he wondered if there was even a point trying to rebel against his family if he couldn't even take on his older brother.

If he did end up managing to fight Illumi, and win by some miracle, it would just mean that there would be two more obstacles in his way. He would probably die trying to accomplish such a goal, but they had given him no other choice. All of those that were in his family practically tyrants ruling over one another based on each other's strength. The clans weren't all that different. He wondered if the other groups realized that their leader was the one that constantly just told them what to do and they followed like sheep. It disgusted him. How could they let someone that they barely even know how remotely even a little bit of control of their life? It went against every logic possible. It made no sense. The clans constantly confusing the young assassin for the reason they did what they always did. Killua secretly wanted what they had. Those that he could count on for support whenever something bad happened. Those to look at and be able to joke without someone taking it seriously and trying to rip out his throat. He just wanted SOMETHING. A reason to stay around without just pretending to buy himself time. That he would ultimately meet others that would consider him as one of their own. Instead of looking him as a freak or a threat. Killua's loneliness having rotted him from the inside out over the course that he had been alive. Each time something decent ended up happening, something else came along just to ruin his plans and he was back to square one. There was a piece of the puzzle that he was missing. Killua didn't know what it actually ended up being until he interacted with the white-winged wolf that lived in the Typhoon. She knew quite a bit about him, and his instincts told him that she was immediately a threat in that regard. She had no reason to lie to him though, and she told him everything that he couldn't remember. At least what she knew about him. How else was he supposed to react? He was put into a panic before finally leaving in fear before being able to ask more questions. The mask that Killua always wore on his face always a complete lie of how broken he had been on the inside. His family had built him up to be a great success, and in a way, they probably thought he was wasting his potential by being in the likes of a clan. He would rather waste his potential to live for once instead of being an empty husk that couldn't do anything better with himself. Couldn't make his own decisions.

Followed any order that was given to him. Frozen in fear. How pitiful could he really be? Hating the thought of being potentially controlled by the clans, and yet here he was. A pitiful creature that couldn't do anything to clear his own mind of the nightmares that followed him wherever he went. Was there ever a potential for escaping his past? Never. He would never get that lucky after all. Killua knew why others probably didn't want to trust him. He was a compulsive liar. Lying when he probably didn't need to, and potentially lying about something that was important. It didn't matter. The truth too hard to vocalize in most instances. Frustration was the next emotion that Killua felt for the majority of his life. He just wanted to get stronger, and as soon as he did, his family appeared to make sure to crush the idea that he actually was strong enough to face them. So, he ran. He constantly ran for his life, because he knew that if they had managed to capture him, then he wouldn't have his life anymore. He didn't have memories of himself in the past. A Typhoon member had told him that. If he got captured they would wipe away his memories. Even if most of the memories he had since he left the household were quite stressful, there were a couple happy memories that he had that he wished to cherish. Most of which consisted of him and Amorette laughing together while they were eating the pastries that she had just baked. He felt like a kid again. He felt NORMAL. He wasn't the machine that his family had created him to be. Once their clutches wrapped around his throat though, he would be back to the way that he had once been. He was already struggling with dealing with the voices in his head. Keeping the voices secret because if he ever were to mention them in his head he knew that they would mark him as being someone that was insane. Could someone at his age go insane? He certainly felt like it. He wanted OUT.

Drip.
Drip.
Drip.

The sound was subtle to the albino serval. A sound that he would become accustomed to listening to after a job had been completed. Yet, this hadn't been a job. This had simply been murder and nothing else. Killing something of the likes of a wolf and a leopard were easy pickings in at least the experience that Killua had been through. Massive beasts weren't all that difficult as long as someone could have a plan of attack against something larger than the likes of him. Blood was always going to be a substance that his claws were drenched it. Whether it be his own or some poor victim that was in the wrong place and wrong time. Facing his claws for the last couple seconds of their life. Treating them like they were cows for slaughter and that no one would miss the looks on their faces or that their families would forget about them eventually. He was an assassin. His job was to take the lives of others, and he had done everything in his power to make sure that it didn't happen. His brother probably had been right, that he didn't belong here. Others would probably look at him like he was some sort of monster after what he had just done. Either that or they would look at him as some sort of hero that had kept enemies outside of the camp and potentially risked his life to save them. Killua didn't want that either. The kindness that other's showed in Snowbound was almost too much for him to bear. Why were they being so nice to him? HIM?  He was a killer with a cold stone heart that couldn't be melted. When had even been the last time that he had a small bit of fun with someone? Probably when Mel had ended up joining the clan and they were able to mess with each other. But it wasn't enough. Killua constantly kept barriers around him, knowing how dangerous he and his families were. If someone wasn't strong enough, whether or not he liked them, he was going to have to keep his distance for a good while until they were strong enough in his eyes. Not only did Snowbound have to deal with the constant threat of Killua going off the rails, but they also had to deal with the fact that the Zoldyck family simply may target them because they knew the apprentice, which was enough incentive for them.

Drip.
Drip.
Drip.

The feeling of flesh and blood in between his claws were no foreign to the young assassin. In a way, he had managed to take out on his frustration on those that didn't deserve to die this day. Did he feel bad about what he had just done? Of course not. It almost felt as if there was a weight that had been lifted off of his shoulders. A feeling that would probably only last for a couple of minutes, but right now he relished in the fact about how calm he felt in a situation like this. He felt no panic. The only reason he didn't find any panic in his mind though, was because someone was making sure that there wouldn't be anything remotely close to the emotion. This happened when he usually went onto a job, and he was forced to kill a group of animals. All Killua had to do was to turn a portion of himself off, and only focused on himself and his enemies. Nothing else mattered. He was going to kill them and there was only one way that situation was going to end. His body usually moved on his own when he was in this state. Tendons expended their energy to make him move forward, muscles rippled to make sure his strike did a lethal blow, his body moving side to side in order to dodge attacks. If someone were to watch him fight, it would almost be beautiful to watch. Except for the fact that it would just be a complete slaughter and the only survivor would have been him. Assassination was an art that few could end up perfecting in the short amount of time that he started to learn it. Killua's body itself usually remained cold to the touch, thanks to the way that his elemental air worked half the time. So feeling the warm viscous substance that was on his body right now, whether it was his own or not, felt comforting. He was alive. He wasn't going to die in the darkness just yet. He wasn't to the point of being completely livid after making a kill. Inside he looked serene, but at this point, which were his emotions and which were ones that were being fed toward him? Killua had lowered his head as he wasn't looking at the sky anymore, and he looked down at his blood covered paws. The crimson fluid having splattered up to the middle portion of his arm, the victim's blood also all over his face. Killua didn't seem bothered at all for what he had done, and the dead look still remained in his eyes. While his mind was trying to formulate how to properly react and fight to figure out why he wasn't feeling the way he had expected himself to, his body was reacting on its own. On instinct. The large white ears that were perched on the top of his head were on a constant swivel, listening for anything that was approached to him. Anyone that even tried to dare attack him in this position, well, he would simply kill them as he had no feelings of killing others at the moment. Killua wanted to scream to himself. This wasn't how he wanted to be. He wanted to feel disgusted, and yet the emotion never came. It never CAME.

Drip.
Drip.
Drip.

Any carnivore was going to be drawn to the scent of blood that was spreading through the territory of Snowbound by now. It was a natural instinct for a predator to come looking to see if the source of the smell was if something had died, or was on the verge of dying so that they could get an easy meal. It was in every predator's instincts, no matter how many creatures would try to ignore the calling for potential food in the distance. If Killua had just ended up killing something large in the form of a prey item, this would have played out completely differently. The cougar's paws in the snow were almost hard for his ears to pick up, but once the ears heard the noise, the extremities immediately turned in the direction that she was something from. Killua could feel his own blood seeping from the right side of his body where he had injured himself on purpose. He knew how long he had until his blood finally decided to clot, or at least until a point where he may end up getting concerned about his own well being. He knew the limits of his body better than everyone. Melantha speaking his name made the muscles around his shoulders twitch in response to what she said. He didn't seem to respond for a couple of seconds as she had questioned what had happened. What did she expect could have possibly happened? Would probably have been his answer to her question in his own sarcastic manner, but he wasn't himself at this moment. He was a killer right now. Nothing could change the way he was going to react to the cougar. His head turned to look over his shoulder at the female, albeit slow. The cold look in his eyes didn't change, and there was no emotion or body language to read off of the young tom. As soon as his made contact with her green ones, the temperature of the surrounding area seemed to drop a couple of degrees, maybe not enough for a couple to feel it, but other species that weren't used to the cold would see the smoke of their hot breath in the air. And yet despite that, Killua's breath could not be seen. The tendons that operated his metal claws twitch some in a reaction of seeing her, causing his metal claws to sink into the snow by a centimeter. Which would be difficult to catch if someone hadn't been paying attention. Something was off. Something was WRONG. Killua looked as if he wanted to kill her, but didn't make any threatening movements toward her. Killua did, however, answer her first question as he could hear more animals that were starting to approach. "I was exploring slightly outside of Snowbound territory. I was bored like always, and then I ran into an ambush a couple meters back. They were the ones to make the first attack, but they were fast enough that I couldn't outrun them for long so I turned to face them. I'm lucky to be alive." The lie flowed out of his mouth just like a river. There were no hints in his tone that he was lying, although he did speak in almost a monotone as he told the quick story of what had happened. It was obvious he made it seem like he had no choice but to actually end up killing them.

Drip.
Drip.
Drip.

At this point, Kayn had been one to arrive. The assassin knew that the other would have been able to hear the explanation that he just said and he wouldn't go to repeat the story again. The other hadn't spoken out just yet, but Killua could see how the way that the other was walking toward him. Causing him to almost tilt his head in a not so nice manner toward the canine. His eyes spoke the way that the way he was feeling, and he was able to quickly analyze the other's body language that was directed at him. Threat. The other was thinking about attacking him. Killua turned around to face the dark canine, no means of aggression coming from his own body as he looked at the other with an emotionless look. But also one that most carnivores could immediately see that was a threat to not get too close to him. However, Kayn's body language luckily changed quick enough that the assassin didn't perceive him as an attacker. At least not for the time being. Then both Mel and Kayn asked if he was okay. He wasn't okay. He wanted to scream. He wanted to break down in front of them as a beaten and broken child. "HELP ME. PLEASE." Killua wanted to scream out. PLEAD. He didn't want this anymore. He had come to realize that his brother was right. He was a puppet, and he couldn't cut the strings that were directly controlling him. The side of his mouth seemed to twitch as if he was about to express something other than the way he was feeling. He wanted someone that he could turn to, and yet his body refused to do whatever the hell he wanted. He was at a standstill. Had there ever been a point in trying to resist at all? Roll with the punches is one might end up telling him. And yet, he didn't want to be this miserable again. He was locked in a cage that he couldn't force his way out. There was no one there for him. He was alone. The realization hit him. He had always been alone. In a normal circumstance, he probably would have laughed at himself. The most pitiful creature anyone had ever come across, really. "I'm fine. Blood should finish clotting in a couple of minutes, and the wounds aren't lethal and they aren't incredibly deep either. I can fix myself up without any issues." Killua stated in the same tone that he has used when it came to addressing Mel a couple seconds ago. All he said was true however, he was fine in the regard to his physical condition. No one had specifically asked him for his mental condition, not like he would give them a truth anyway, as it wasn't him speaking after all. Those that ventured too close to him though, would be able to smell some small portion of his blood that had dropped a little bit of a distance away from him. Because despite being covered in blood he didn't smell like anything because the wounds were on his body and the pocket of air that he always kept was close to his body. Depending on the animal, one would be able to smell that his blood smelled different from others, and actually smelled toxic.

Drip.
Drip.
Drip.

There was only one more creature to approach the scene again. Another familiar face, but one that he wouldn't give a lot of recognition to in his current state. The assassin turned to look at the albino clouded leopard and heard the words that she said. Wait. No no no! It wasn't her fault at all! It had been only him that had done something like this, and he could see the guilt that was in his eyes. For a split second his eyes had returned to what they would look normally toward London, before they were forced back into the emotionless color they had been the entire time he had been conversing with the Snowbound members. He did actually manage to say what he wanted to say. "It happened too quickly, and I was too far away. Don't blame yourself. It's okay." This time when he spoke there was a little bit of emotion in his tone. Which was better than him speaking blandly toward the albino clouded leopard. He didn't want anyone to blame themselves for the mistakes he made. That was just too cruel. They didn't know what he was and didn't know how to control him either. It wasn't their fault. Silence expanded between the group for a couple minutes, the sound of his own blood dripping echoing into his ears as if the sound had been magnified several times. The assassin looked down for a ground for a couple seconds, before he started to walk in between Mel and Kayn. "I'm going to patch myself up." Killua stated, resorting back to the monotone like he had done before. There as almost a hint as to what he said though. As if he was also saying 'don't follow me'. Killua didn't bother to stop the blood trail that would probably lead others to him, the pain that he was feeling basically nonexistent. He was going to leave the Snowbounders to do whatever the wanted. His body was moving on its own to get as far away as possible.

snowbound -- apprentice -- male -- 8 moons

[sub]template © olivan 
[/sub]

[Ivylee]