06-25-2018, 12:43 PM
[font=trebuchet ms]/tl;dr: Paper goes to see dying mom and comes back
/the last two paragraphs after the HR line are the only things needing a response
The black brazier stuck out like a sore thumb among the golden dunes of the desert.
Flames flickered within the metal cage, casting eerie shadows on the stone pedestal below. At least, given that the fire was lit and that he could not hear howls of grief when turning his good ear towards the camp, Paper was not too late. Lateness could not be tolerated in a situation so severe as this.
He smelled the approaching creatures before he heard them, not that he found that particularly surprising. Narrowing his eyes slightly, he turned his head slightly to face whoever would approach him first. The five guards all entered his field of vision at roughly the same time- he could identify all of them as golden jackals, with the largest one (with golden paint splashed across his chest) occupying the center, and the second largest to his immediate left. It was impossible for Paper to miss the eyes widening on the largest one's face as they caught sight of each other, the look of shock confirming his identity despite the long period of silence between them.
"Falconer Stormyheights," Papercutter stated curtly, flicking his good ear.
Stormyheights stared directly at him, eyes boring into him like mining drills, as if to ascertain whether he was anything more than a mirage. "By Anubis, you're still alive," the Falconer responded finally, quirking a brow. ”I admit, I didn’t expect Caro to actually find you.”
Truthfully, he wouldn’t have expected himself to live this long either, but that didn’t matter much right now. ”I wish to see Pack Leader Miragelight,” Paper continued as formally as he could, not wishing to invite more tension. At this point in time, he could probably fight off Stormyheights alone, but even he knew that being outnumbered five to one in a fight was not a circumstance he could easily overcome.
The second-largest golden jackal stepped forwards, displaying his gold chain necklace, and the cut topaz hanging from it. ”We will take you there,” he said, with a nod. ”Golden Leader Riskymove. It is a pleasure to see you again, Papercutter.”
Paper eyed Riskymove with skepticism, but did not challenge his statement. The two hadn’t interacted often enough prior to his exit for him to dismiss any appearance of camaraderie as false. Finally, he nodded. ”Lead the way, then.”
Riskymove turned and padded off first, with Stormyheights and the rest of the Golden Squad quickly following suit. Papercutter followed as well, taking up the rear.
As they entered the camp proper, Paper glanced around at the tents and burrows scattered about. He could see a black-backed jackal and wolf jackal (whom he recognized as Bonemarrow and Nightbreak) battling in the center of camp, surrounded by a crowd. Both of them had the same golden necklaces as Riskymove. In spite of himself, Paper gritted his teeth; that the squad leaders were already fighting each other in preparation for the challenges meant that Miragelight’s condition couldn’t have been good.
In the midst of the battle, Bonemarrow turned to look at Paper, baring her teeth at him. Before she could say anything, however, Nightbreak kicked out and swept her legs out from under her, then placed a paw squarely on her head to hold her down. Paper couldn’t help but shake his head- everyone knew you were never supposed to divert your attention off of an opponent in a battle unless they were incapacitated, and especially not to make a threat.
The crowd turned their eyes on him as he passed by, but no one spoke. Some of the younger members were clearly on the verge of asking who the weirdo with mismatched eyes was, but were apparently too afraid to ask. Nightbreak, on the other hand, looked him directly in the eyes, her own golden gaze intense but not exactly angry.
It didn’t matter what they thought, though, Paper decided, and he turned his attention back to Riskymove as they passed the crowd.
As they approached the final burrow, Paper found himself being reminded of the last time he entered- being carried in through the gold-and-quartz-laced curtain, blood dripping from his face. The rubies now attached to the curtain and scattered around the entrance did not do anything to dispel the memory.
”Inside,” Riskymove stated, ”you will find the Pack Leader. I must warn you that Pack Second Dustdevil and Side-Striped Leader Blankslate are also present at this time.”
Neither of those names came as a surprise, Paper reflected as he stared at the curtain. Dustdevil had been the Second since he was two months old, when Undertaker had died. Blankslate, despite her open disdain for some of Miragelight’s decisions, was still Miragelight’s child. It was probably for the best that Riskymove had warned him about the latter, though.
With a sigh, he pushed through the curtain and looked upon the scene inside.
Miragelight lay in the center, blood trickling from the corners of her mouth. Dustdevil had removed his golden bandana and pressed it against Miragelight’s forehead, concentration clear in his eyes. Blankslate held Miragelight’s right front paw with her own, watching with furrowed brows.
At the swish of the curtain, all three of them glanced up at Papercutter. Blankslate’s jaw dropped, her brows raising and eyes widening in astonishment. Dustdevil raised a brow as well, but looked only for a moment before returning to the task at hand.
Miragelight, on the other hand, didn’t appear surprised at all. ”Papercutter,” she rasped, lifting her cloudy eyes to meet his. ”Why do you... smell of sea salt?”
”Pack Leader Miragelight,” he addressed her lowly, bowing his head. ”My condolences on your condition.” Inhaling slowly, he noted that he did indeed reek of the ocean- prior to leaving, it had been a long time since he had smelled anything else. To his mother, he continued, ”I became a member of the Typhoon.”
He could hear, through his left ear, gasps and murmurs from everyone gathered- including those who had entered behind him- except for Miragelight, who slowly nodded. ”You survived the entrance ritual, then,” she stated. ”Climbing through... ranks, I would presume?”
The mention of the entrance ritual elicited an internal wince from him, but he remained stone-faced externally. Nodding solemnly, he said, ”Yes, actually. Prior to hearing about this, I was on my way to becoming their dealer.” That was truthful as far as he was concerned, as even if Vanessa had just as much a chance as he did of becoming Dealer, he liked to believe the decision would have favored him for once.
Miragelight chuckled lowly, but her laughter was cut off by a hacking cough, which she stifled with one foreleg. As she retracted her leg, Paper could see blood splattered across the paw and the golden cuff above it, but said nothing. Pointing to the corner with her other front leg, where Paper could see a small leather-bound book, she said, ”Book... it is yours.”
Before Paper could respond, Blankslate finally found her voice. ”What use does he have for it?” she interjected, narrowing her eyes. ”I thought you said everything you had was mine. Why is this the exception?”
Miragelight turned to face Blankslate, while Riskymove retrieved the book and handed it to Papercutter. ”You will have... no use for it, Blankslate,” she answered slowly, her voice low. ”You know your role in life... he is still finding his.”
Paper paid little attention to the book set at his feet, watching crimson liquid continue to drip from his mother’s mouth. If she was giving up her possessions already, then the time was near, but... she couldn’t be dying already. She was still so young, so strong despite the illness wracking her. ”What... is this?” he murmured, furrowing his brows.
His mother shook her head. ”Find out for yourself.” To Dustdevil, she motioned with a twitching paw to the golden cloak on her back. ”Remove it. It is yours.” Closing her eyes, she rested her head on her paws, and fell still.
Paper hurried forwards, as if to resuscitate her, but felt a pair of jaws clamp on his scruff and hold him in place. He could only watch, numb, as Dustdevil pressed a paw against Miragelight’s neck, then shook his head.
The jaws released him, and as he rushed to his mother’s side, he could hear around him the echoing howls of his former packmates. Within a few seconds, they were joined by the baying of the entire pack, all cognizant of the fall of their leader. In spite of the denial clouding his mind, a howl erupted from his throat as well, joining the others in discordant harmony.
The cremation had simultaneously taken forever and gone by in the blink of an eye.
The ashes were spread amongst the oasis, the one island of life amongst a whirlpool of death. The majority of the pack had remained only a few minutes afterward before taking their leave, with the exception of Dustdevil, Stormyheights, the squad leaders, and Papercutter.
Eventually, even Dustdevil stood and walked away, throwing the Pack Leader’s cloak over his shoulders. Nightbreak and Bonemarrow followed him closely, while Riskymove stopped to give Papercutter a light nudge before going after them. Finally, Stormyheights and Blankslate stood up together and walked away, leaving Paper alone at the shore.
After a few moments, his left ear picked up Blankslate saying, ”I will see you at moonhigh, Falconer Stormyheights. I would recommend you prepare to face me.” The words meant little to him; Blankslate would almost certainly be the last squad leader standing, and would probably defeat Stormyheights to become Second, but in the face of Miragelight’s death, it all seemed... meaningless.
With one paw on the book, he stared out at the water. Once upon a time, he would have been wary of being too close to the water, lest Groundstrike or Diceroll shove him in. Perhaps even now, he ought to be cautious, lest Blankslate attempt to avenge her brothers the moment the opportunity was there, but it was difficult to care now- even as he heard paw steps in the sand behind him, and scented Blankslate getting ever closer.
”You gave up your chance to become the dealer of the Typhoon.”
It was a statement of fact; Blankslate’s words held no malice or mockery in them, just mild surprise. Papercutter did not turn to look at her, but answered, ”I’ll get another chance to gain power sooner or later. The same would not have been true of this.”
Blankslate did not respond for a moment, leaving only the rippling water to occupy the silence. Then, she asked, ”The entrance ritual- what did it involve?”
Paper thought for a moment, furrowing his brows. Was it safe to tell her, to give her that level of power over him? Even if she couldn’t hurt him now that he was no longer a member of the pack, did he really want to tell the truth?
With a sigh, he answered, ”You’re sent to an island and given a drink that makes you hallucinate vividly. Some people, I’m told, receive pleasant visions, but most, including me, experience their worst fears. If you survive the night without killing yourself- or being killed, I’m uncertain if the hallucinations can actually kill you- you’re in.” He glanced down at his paws, narrowing his eyes. ”I saw the figure that attacked us that night. It disappeared after I bit its neck, but then you ripped off my right ear, and Groundstrike and Diceroll tried to kill me as revenge for what happened.” Pawing at his right ear, he added, ”My ear was still there when I woke up, but the eardrum was ruptured. Hence why I don’t know how much physical effect the hallucinations have.”
His answer was met with silence, and the two stood for some time without breaking it.
Finally, Blankslate spoke up, ”Yeah. I don’t think forgiveness is possible for either of us at this point. I can’t forgive you for Strike and Dice, nor can I expect your forgiveness for deposing and scarring you.” She padded slightly closer to him, until they were standing side by side. ”But you’re Mom’s kid, and what I think doesn’t change that. She was absolutely certain that you would be alive, and kept saying you were probably a high-ranking official or feared warrior wherever you were.”
Paper turned to face Blank with wide eyes, and saw that her eyes were narrowed. ”If you have any respect for her,” she continued, ”you’ll become exactly what she thought you would be. You’re alive, that’s half the battle- but now you have to be strong.”
Paper lowered his head, his eyes shifting down towards the water. Through his good ear, he heard Blank walk away, leaving him alone for real this time.
Perhaps she knew about the moisture building up in his eyes, perhaps she didn’t, but he appreciated the silence either way.
It was almost moonhigh when he returned to the now-extinguished brazier, the book in his mouth.
Hearing footsteps besides his own, he turned his head to glance over his shoulder. The rest of the Red Fangs were behind him, with Blankslate and Dustdevil at the front. Meeting both of their gazes, he narrowed his eyes, as if daring them to speak.
The rest of the crowd remained quiet as Dustdevil and Blankslate stepped forwards. ”Farewell,” Dustdevil said, raising a paw. ”It is time to find out if you really are strong. I wish you luck.”
Blankslate, one paw holding onto the cut onyx on her chain necklace, looked Paper right in the eye. Furrowing her brows, she barked, ”You had better become Captain someday.”
Paper nodded to her, then looked over the rest of what he had once considered his family.
Then, without a word, he left- towards home, to return to his real family.
[font=trebuchet ms]Paper still had the book in his possession when he finally returned to the shores of the Typhoon’s island. In total, it had taken him roughly seven and a half days- more than he would have liked, but no one was counting, as far as he knew. He would catch up on what he had missed soon enough.
He kept walking until he eventually found himself in front of his hut again- he would have stopped at the border, but most of the members could recognize him by sight or smell as one of their own. Setting down the book in the doorway, Paper turned and faced the rest of camp, then sat down. Releasing a heavy sigh, he pressed one paw against his forehead, allowing the tension that had followed him to ease up.
/the last two paragraphs after the HR line are the only things needing a response
The black brazier stuck out like a sore thumb among the golden dunes of the desert.
Flames flickered within the metal cage, casting eerie shadows on the stone pedestal below. At least, given that the fire was lit and that he could not hear howls of grief when turning his good ear towards the camp, Paper was not too late. Lateness could not be tolerated in a situation so severe as this.
He smelled the approaching creatures before he heard them, not that he found that particularly surprising. Narrowing his eyes slightly, he turned his head slightly to face whoever would approach him first. The five guards all entered his field of vision at roughly the same time- he could identify all of them as golden jackals, with the largest one (with golden paint splashed across his chest) occupying the center, and the second largest to his immediate left. It was impossible for Paper to miss the eyes widening on the largest one's face as they caught sight of each other, the look of shock confirming his identity despite the long period of silence between them.
"Falconer Stormyheights," Papercutter stated curtly, flicking his good ear.
Stormyheights stared directly at him, eyes boring into him like mining drills, as if to ascertain whether he was anything more than a mirage. "By Anubis, you're still alive," the Falconer responded finally, quirking a brow. ”I admit, I didn’t expect Caro to actually find you.”
Truthfully, he wouldn’t have expected himself to live this long either, but that didn’t matter much right now. ”I wish to see Pack Leader Miragelight,” Paper continued as formally as he could, not wishing to invite more tension. At this point in time, he could probably fight off Stormyheights alone, but even he knew that being outnumbered five to one in a fight was not a circumstance he could easily overcome.
The second-largest golden jackal stepped forwards, displaying his gold chain necklace, and the cut topaz hanging from it. ”We will take you there,” he said, with a nod. ”Golden Leader Riskymove. It is a pleasure to see you again, Papercutter.”
Paper eyed Riskymove with skepticism, but did not challenge his statement. The two hadn’t interacted often enough prior to his exit for him to dismiss any appearance of camaraderie as false. Finally, he nodded. ”Lead the way, then.”
Riskymove turned and padded off first, with Stormyheights and the rest of the Golden Squad quickly following suit. Papercutter followed as well, taking up the rear.
As they entered the camp proper, Paper glanced around at the tents and burrows scattered about. He could see a black-backed jackal and wolf jackal (whom he recognized as Bonemarrow and Nightbreak) battling in the center of camp, surrounded by a crowd. Both of them had the same golden necklaces as Riskymove. In spite of himself, Paper gritted his teeth; that the squad leaders were already fighting each other in preparation for the challenges meant that Miragelight’s condition couldn’t have been good.
In the midst of the battle, Bonemarrow turned to look at Paper, baring her teeth at him. Before she could say anything, however, Nightbreak kicked out and swept her legs out from under her, then placed a paw squarely on her head to hold her down. Paper couldn’t help but shake his head- everyone knew you were never supposed to divert your attention off of an opponent in a battle unless they were incapacitated, and especially not to make a threat.
The crowd turned their eyes on him as he passed by, but no one spoke. Some of the younger members were clearly on the verge of asking who the weirdo with mismatched eyes was, but were apparently too afraid to ask. Nightbreak, on the other hand, looked him directly in the eyes, her own golden gaze intense but not exactly angry.
It didn’t matter what they thought, though, Paper decided, and he turned his attention back to Riskymove as they passed the crowd.
As they approached the final burrow, Paper found himself being reminded of the last time he entered- being carried in through the gold-and-quartz-laced curtain, blood dripping from his face. The rubies now attached to the curtain and scattered around the entrance did not do anything to dispel the memory.
”Inside,” Riskymove stated, ”you will find the Pack Leader. I must warn you that Pack Second Dustdevil and Side-Striped Leader Blankslate are also present at this time.”
Neither of those names came as a surprise, Paper reflected as he stared at the curtain. Dustdevil had been the Second since he was two months old, when Undertaker had died. Blankslate, despite her open disdain for some of Miragelight’s decisions, was still Miragelight’s child. It was probably for the best that Riskymove had warned him about the latter, though.
With a sigh, he pushed through the curtain and looked upon the scene inside.
Miragelight lay in the center, blood trickling from the corners of her mouth. Dustdevil had removed his golden bandana and pressed it against Miragelight’s forehead, concentration clear in his eyes. Blankslate held Miragelight’s right front paw with her own, watching with furrowed brows.
At the swish of the curtain, all three of them glanced up at Papercutter. Blankslate’s jaw dropped, her brows raising and eyes widening in astonishment. Dustdevil raised a brow as well, but looked only for a moment before returning to the task at hand.
Miragelight, on the other hand, didn’t appear surprised at all. ”Papercutter,” she rasped, lifting her cloudy eyes to meet his. ”Why do you... smell of sea salt?”
”Pack Leader Miragelight,” he addressed her lowly, bowing his head. ”My condolences on your condition.” Inhaling slowly, he noted that he did indeed reek of the ocean- prior to leaving, it had been a long time since he had smelled anything else. To his mother, he continued, ”I became a member of the Typhoon.”
He could hear, through his left ear, gasps and murmurs from everyone gathered- including those who had entered behind him- except for Miragelight, who slowly nodded. ”You survived the entrance ritual, then,” she stated. ”Climbing through... ranks, I would presume?”
The mention of the entrance ritual elicited an internal wince from him, but he remained stone-faced externally. Nodding solemnly, he said, ”Yes, actually. Prior to hearing about this, I was on my way to becoming their dealer.” That was truthful as far as he was concerned, as even if Vanessa had just as much a chance as he did of becoming Dealer, he liked to believe the decision would have favored him for once.
Miragelight chuckled lowly, but her laughter was cut off by a hacking cough, which she stifled with one foreleg. As she retracted her leg, Paper could see blood splattered across the paw and the golden cuff above it, but said nothing. Pointing to the corner with her other front leg, where Paper could see a small leather-bound book, she said, ”Book... it is yours.”
Before Paper could respond, Blankslate finally found her voice. ”What use does he have for it?” she interjected, narrowing her eyes. ”I thought you said everything you had was mine. Why is this the exception?”
Miragelight turned to face Blankslate, while Riskymove retrieved the book and handed it to Papercutter. ”You will have... no use for it, Blankslate,” she answered slowly, her voice low. ”You know your role in life... he is still finding his.”
Paper paid little attention to the book set at his feet, watching crimson liquid continue to drip from his mother’s mouth. If she was giving up her possessions already, then the time was near, but... she couldn’t be dying already. She was still so young, so strong despite the illness wracking her. ”What... is this?” he murmured, furrowing his brows.
His mother shook her head. ”Find out for yourself.” To Dustdevil, she motioned with a twitching paw to the golden cloak on her back. ”Remove it. It is yours.” Closing her eyes, she rested her head on her paws, and fell still.
Paper hurried forwards, as if to resuscitate her, but felt a pair of jaws clamp on his scruff and hold him in place. He could only watch, numb, as Dustdevil pressed a paw against Miragelight’s neck, then shook his head.
The jaws released him, and as he rushed to his mother’s side, he could hear around him the echoing howls of his former packmates. Within a few seconds, they were joined by the baying of the entire pack, all cognizant of the fall of their leader. In spite of the denial clouding his mind, a howl erupted from his throat as well, joining the others in discordant harmony.
The cremation had simultaneously taken forever and gone by in the blink of an eye.
The ashes were spread amongst the oasis, the one island of life amongst a whirlpool of death. The majority of the pack had remained only a few minutes afterward before taking their leave, with the exception of Dustdevil, Stormyheights, the squad leaders, and Papercutter.
Eventually, even Dustdevil stood and walked away, throwing the Pack Leader’s cloak over his shoulders. Nightbreak and Bonemarrow followed him closely, while Riskymove stopped to give Papercutter a light nudge before going after them. Finally, Stormyheights and Blankslate stood up together and walked away, leaving Paper alone at the shore.
After a few moments, his left ear picked up Blankslate saying, ”I will see you at moonhigh, Falconer Stormyheights. I would recommend you prepare to face me.” The words meant little to him; Blankslate would almost certainly be the last squad leader standing, and would probably defeat Stormyheights to become Second, but in the face of Miragelight’s death, it all seemed... meaningless.
With one paw on the book, he stared out at the water. Once upon a time, he would have been wary of being too close to the water, lest Groundstrike or Diceroll shove him in. Perhaps even now, he ought to be cautious, lest Blankslate attempt to avenge her brothers the moment the opportunity was there, but it was difficult to care now- even as he heard paw steps in the sand behind him, and scented Blankslate getting ever closer.
”You gave up your chance to become the dealer of the Typhoon.”
It was a statement of fact; Blankslate’s words held no malice or mockery in them, just mild surprise. Papercutter did not turn to look at her, but answered, ”I’ll get another chance to gain power sooner or later. The same would not have been true of this.”
Blankslate did not respond for a moment, leaving only the rippling water to occupy the silence. Then, she asked, ”The entrance ritual- what did it involve?”
Paper thought for a moment, furrowing his brows. Was it safe to tell her, to give her that level of power over him? Even if she couldn’t hurt him now that he was no longer a member of the pack, did he really want to tell the truth?
With a sigh, he answered, ”You’re sent to an island and given a drink that makes you hallucinate vividly. Some people, I’m told, receive pleasant visions, but most, including me, experience their worst fears. If you survive the night without killing yourself- or being killed, I’m uncertain if the hallucinations can actually kill you- you’re in.” He glanced down at his paws, narrowing his eyes. ”I saw the figure that attacked us that night. It disappeared after I bit its neck, but then you ripped off my right ear, and Groundstrike and Diceroll tried to kill me as revenge for what happened.” Pawing at his right ear, he added, ”My ear was still there when I woke up, but the eardrum was ruptured. Hence why I don’t know how much physical effect the hallucinations have.”
His answer was met with silence, and the two stood for some time without breaking it.
Finally, Blankslate spoke up, ”Yeah. I don’t think forgiveness is possible for either of us at this point. I can’t forgive you for Strike and Dice, nor can I expect your forgiveness for deposing and scarring you.” She padded slightly closer to him, until they were standing side by side. ”But you’re Mom’s kid, and what I think doesn’t change that. She was absolutely certain that you would be alive, and kept saying you were probably a high-ranking official or feared warrior wherever you were.”
Paper turned to face Blank with wide eyes, and saw that her eyes were narrowed. ”If you have any respect for her,” she continued, ”you’ll become exactly what she thought you would be. You’re alive, that’s half the battle- but now you have to be strong.”
Paper lowered his head, his eyes shifting down towards the water. Through his good ear, he heard Blank walk away, leaving him alone for real this time.
Perhaps she knew about the moisture building up in his eyes, perhaps she didn’t, but he appreciated the silence either way.
It was almost moonhigh when he returned to the now-extinguished brazier, the book in his mouth.
Hearing footsteps besides his own, he turned his head to glance over his shoulder. The rest of the Red Fangs were behind him, with Blankslate and Dustdevil at the front. Meeting both of their gazes, he narrowed his eyes, as if daring them to speak.
The rest of the crowd remained quiet as Dustdevil and Blankslate stepped forwards. ”Farewell,” Dustdevil said, raising a paw. ”It is time to find out if you really are strong. I wish you luck.”
Blankslate, one paw holding onto the cut onyx on her chain necklace, looked Paper right in the eye. Furrowing her brows, she barked, ”You had better become Captain someday.”
Paper nodded to her, then looked over the rest of what he had once considered his family.
Then, without a word, he left- towards home, to return to his real family.
[font=trebuchet ms]Paper still had the book in his possession when he finally returned to the shores of the Typhoon’s island. In total, it had taken him roughly seven and a half days- more than he would have liked, but no one was counting, as far as he knew. He would catch up on what he had missed soon enough.
He kept walking until he eventually found himself in front of his hut again- he would have stopped at the border, but most of the members could recognize him by sight or smell as one of their own. Setting down the book in the doorway, Paper turned and faced the rest of camp, then sat down. Releasing a heavy sigh, he pressed one paw against his forehead, allowing the tension that had followed him to ease up.
[font=trebuchet ms]some weirdo
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