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Heaven is in the palm of my hand and it's waiting here for you
What am I supposed to do with a childhood tragedy?
The storm was hurrying its way across the nightly world of Graycott, a sinister presence sneaking into the town as soon as the sun had set. It brought with it thunderclouds, deep indigo bruises in the sky tinged with an ugly yellow cast. The rain was waiting, swelling and growing pregnant in the sky until it was prime time for the storm to give birth.
A rumble of thunder caught the brute's attention, made him swivel his head to the side and drew his eyes upward. A scowl had formed across that face, a deep thundercloud spawning there as well. It was an inconvenience to the black dog, who did not want to shelter in this place tonight. But it seemed he would have to, because the winds around him were beginning to pick up, mighty gusts that were making it difficult to walk in a straight line without being buffeted.
The black shepherd could feel the electricity building in the air and it made the hair on the nape of his neck stand erect. He growled his own thunder in the confines of his throat and stalked his way to the nearest shelter, a big looming penitentiary that stunk of rot and age. He was mumbling vulgar curses underneath his breath, vehemence rolling off him with every step he took. He mounted the concrete steps and pushed one muscled shoulder into the door, causing it to creak and moan. The hinges were already rusted and the lock mechanism since ruined. It swung easily for the black dog and he skulked into the darkness, disappearing upon his entrance.
He blended with the shadow, the windows offering no light inside the massive building because of the storm that was about to steal the night. Deimos blinked, two large golden eyes that were adjusting to the lack of light. He immediately noted there were bones littering the place, large femurs and broken skulls. He snorted and approached one of these skulls, bringing a large paw down to crush the ancient thing. It snapped, emitting a a cloud of dust and practically disintegrating underneath the dog's weight.
He picked up one of the femurs in his jaws and slowly made his way to a discarded blanket in the far corner of the first floor. He plopped himself down, bone still grasped in his mouth. This looked like some old reception area, but bones and old rags were littered everywhere. A ficus was dead and black, long perished, in a terracotta pot along the wall. The bullet-proof glass that protected the receptionist area was smeared with what looked like years-old blood, turned brown by oxidation.
It looked more like a tomb than a prison, but it suited Deimos just fine. He had rested his bone on his legs, but was now staring at with a vicious intensity.
"Honey, I'm home,"he called out in a nasty, sarcastic way that marred his handsome features with the ugly way it twisted his face when he spoke. He seemed pissed off even talking to the air. Satisfied this was all the exploring and welcome he was doing and receiving, the dark shepherd snapped the femur bone up in his mouth and began gnawing it violently.
A storm was brewing, forcing dogs left and right into shelter in a hurry. Except one. A pale figure ambled along, unhurried by the idea of being caught in a storm. The idea of rain beating down against her skin did not faze her, nor did the cutting chill of the strong wind. It pushed and pulled at her as she went, causing her to stumble and weave instead of walking a straight line, but that did not seem to frustrate her. The ghost of a dog was already muddy from the splatter of rain hitting the dirty terrain, only to have it somewhat washed off by the downpour.
Finally, dark eyes lingered on a building that peaked her interest. The figure paused, eyes roaming over the penitentiary before she shrugged a bony shoulder and angled towards the entrance. Perhaps seeking shelter was a smart idea, but that was not what pushed her to enter the foreboding building, instead it was its leering and dark presence that made her want to enter and explore. What sort of adventures would await her inside? The notion sent waves of excitement coursing through the husky mix's veins causing her hackles to rise ever so slightly.
Outside, there had been no scents hinting at the presence of another dog, but once she entered the building the musk of a male was strong in her nostrils causing the female to pause. The echo of a voice made her ears twitch 'honey, I'm home', the sound was disturbed and more than a bit sarcastic. A mischievous grin pulled at her lips as she held back a chuckle. “It's about time, darling. I was beginning to worry.” She answered back with feigned worry in her voice, as she waited for her eyes to adjust to the sudden darkness of the building. It didn't take long before her eyes found what the males had, bones. They did not interest her at the moment; she was looking for the other occupant of the room. The muddy, white female found the dog she searched for, but only just. He was dark as the stormy night outside, only the lighter concrete he laid upon helped distinguish him.
Confidently, the adolescent female faced the stranger. Raziri did not bother shaking the rain from her coat- not yet. Instead the water dropped freely from her coat in its own way, creating a small puddle beneath her torso.
The black creature was absorbed in his work and held the old bone in his grip as if it were still alive and coated with flesh. It had nothing to offer the shepherd in way of nutrition and would have only been suitable as a play thing for a pup, but it did not stop the adult male from fixing it between his forepaws while running his sharp and worrying teeth across its aging surface. He was surprisingly gentle with it in his violence, cracking and crunching down on it enough to make audible snaps and pops, but not quite splintering it or shortening it. He liked the length of the bone and the way he felt to take out aggression upon the thing, imagining it still carrying life while he made it suffer.
It was this ghoulish reverie he basked in, listening to the deafening coming of rainfall as it down upon the penitentiary's roof. Thunder and lightening took turns abusing each other with flashes and growls, masking the footfalls that had suddenly become apart of Deimos' world. He was absorbed in his work and did not hear the delicate fall of pads upon and concrete and the heavy scent of rain was the only thing besides dusty bone flaring in his nostrils. He was oblivious to the approach of a stranger and was only alerted when her foul and sarcastic tone reached out of the shadows to grab him by the ears, responding to what he had said only moments before.
Like a touchy rattlesnake the black shepherd immediately growled, pulling back black lips to expose the teeth that had been busy cutting on his prize. His nape came to life with raised hair and his demeanor became immediately foul, his muscles drawing up with tension to prepare himself to fight, in case this stranger was ignorant enough to try and encroach upon his space. He forgot about his bone and let it clack down to the floor. His golden eyes sharply eyed the phantom dog that had entered the building. My building, the nasty brute thought as he eyed her in the gloom. She was positively a mess and shook water from her coat, creating a small ocean at her feet. He sneered back at her in disgust, seeing how dirty and foul she had allowed herself to get.
Deimos was not truly vain, but he prided himself on his handsome appearance. Many thought him as such, too, except until they heard him speak. Then they labeled him as one ugly asshole and left it at that. He watched her carefully, beginning to gain his front feet so that he could show her he wasn't just made of shadow. Beneath the darkness, muscle and bone waited to be used at his beckoning.
He continued his growling until her eyes found his camouflaged form lying against the contrasting concrete. His own eyes were now suited to the lack of available and light and not only did he notice how dirty she was, but he also noted how boldly and confidently she was facing him.
"You can worry yourself right the fuck on out of here," he snapped out in retaliation to her cocky tone, features transforming themselves in tune with his rising fury. He was glaring at her with immediate dislike. Deimos hated companionship more than anything and he didn't want to be anyone's storm partner either. "Find your own damn shelter. This one is mine and your stink is beginning to give me a headache," he didn't think his attitude was going to convince her just yet, he was just getting started with his tyranny of aggressive litany. She would probably stick around just to annoy him on purpose, as most dogs did, but they soon learned that talk and touch didn't fly with the black dog. If she crossed his boundaries for fun for too long....then she might not get the reward her ego so thought it wanted..
TAG: era | WORDS: 681 | NOTES: Here's a nasty meanie Deimos for you c:
Her words were immediately received and the instant reply was a growling snarl. The ghostly cur tensed, ears pivoting from erect to flat and erect again, unsure of how she should respond to such hostility. Raziri chose to stand there, neither retreating or advancing, if he wanted a fight than he would have to come to her…she hoped it didn’t come to that. Thus far her skills were in avoidance and evasion- not fighting, he’d rip her to shreds and she wouldn’t be able to stop him. Still, she didn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her retreat a few steps- like she wanted to. Instead, she took a deep breath and waited, doing her best to keep an outward appearance of calm.
As her eyes adjusted further, she could see the sneer of disgust and mockery on the countenance of the male as he looked her over but it didn’t bother her. Raziri didn’t care about the mud and filth that clung to her coat, nor that she smelled like wet dog mixed with mud. If anything, the female offered a slight yawn to show her boredom of his inspection. Despite her youth, she didn’t miss the shift in his posture as he readied himself to be able to spring up at a moments notice. She had no intentions of invading his space or trying her hand at a fight, but she wasn’t about to be caught unawares. Her head lowered slightly, protectively covering her throat as a show of defense but otherwise her posture remained confident- but relaxed.
His next set of hostile words made her lips twitch, fleetingly pulling them into a smile before returning to a more neutral appearance. She knew she was playing with fire, but the adolescent couldn’t quite help but wonder how close she could get to this flame- and how much it would hurt. Before she could reply to his initial response, he spoke again this time telling her to leave- she was stinking up his shelter.
Raziri couldn’t stop the childish giggle at his words, it bubbled up into her throat and was out in the air before she could stop it. Hesitantly, she glanced about, eyes darting around the room but repeatedly snapping back to the stranger to make sure he hadn’t moved. “An awfully big room- for just one dog.” She noted observantly. “How about I curl up in that corner waaaay over there- my stink shouldn’t bother you if I’m in the broom closet.” She doubted he would take her up on the offer, but it was worth a try. Whatever he decided, she had already made the decision to stay in the prison, he’d just have to claw the stick out of his ass and get over it.
Robin redbreast in a cage puts all of heaven in a rage
He was an unpleasant brute and his nasty disposition continued to proceed itself. Sometimes Deimos wondered if he could ever change his ways, but he had never known anything but violence and anger from a young age. His mother had been quite the banshee, abusing Deimos and his twin Phobos daily after they had opened their eyes and could toddle after her. The lack of nurture in his life reflected itself now in this moment as his nasty tone echoed through the vast emptiness to batter the younger female's ears. She was immediately cautious because of his attitude, a good sign. Deimos didn't like to brawl but he was more inclined to do when other's challenged him.
She stood there, holding her ground but she did not retreat (which would have been the best) or advance (which was fine). She seemed confused and indecisive on what move she should make next and that's basically how he spent his own childhood. Wondering if approaching was worth the danger that might become him if he provoked his mother's very short fuse. He let the snarl die a little in his throat, but he still crouched on his ratty blanket with his ancient bone laid at his feet half-cocked and bristled. She emitted a yawn, not paying attention to his scathing comments on her appearance. His golden eyes were harsh and penetrating, but he admired that she didn't take offense. Hell, perhaps she didn't care that she was as wet and moldy as a soaked blanket in a basement. He honestly really couldn't smell anything but rain, but it was in the black dog's nature to be cruel and throw verbal abuse around whenever he saw the chance.
He wasn't relaxed, but he felt more dominant when she appeared demure, but her youth was beginning to show. Deimos had been on this evil earth long enough to know that sometimes children liked to play games and here was a fine example. The thunder boomed again, a sound that wasn't quite powerful enough to mask the giggle she had given him in response to his words. It nettled him slightly, causing his snarl to deepen again. He didn't like how she was laughing at him with her head lowered in case he should spring up at her. Deimos wouldn't waste his time, though, because children were all fluff. They'd try and push buttons but didn't quite have enough gall to actually trigger the big guns. They were pests, like fleas. Itchy and bothersome, but benign.
Phobos was like that, Deimos felt the thought strike him like a cold blast of air. His brother, Phobos, the forever child. fate had given him the heart and mind of puppy forever and he was slow to learn anything. Poor Phobos, the only other creature Deimos had been able to tolerate until their big fight...A fight over something so stupid and small, but Deimos just couldn't be the parent to his twin anymore. That stupid blanket he wanted to take... The memory burned him up and Deimos could feel his anger die into a deep depression, less lethal but still volatile. It made the phantom female seem less irritating.
Her smile did not reach his eyes, because now that he was thinking of his brother, the rest of the world ceased to exist. What had happened to his twin, his Phobos? The only creature in the world who loved him and who was ill-fated to be dull and slow-witted his whole life, constantly needing a teacher and a mentor. He had needed a parent, but their mother hadn't wanted them.
She was talking again, this strange and dirty specter, and it seemed she was trying to reason with him. The black brute grunted abruptly in response, eyeing her until she was done, watching her eyes scatter all around the room and back to him, perhaps to see if the coiled cobra might strike. "Whatever," came the hateful reply. He flopped himself down savagely on the scrap of blanket and seized his bone between his paws again. "Just keep your space and I'll keep mine. I don't have time to deal with some messy kid anyway," his vehemence smoldered down into contempt. "Got better things to do and we'll get along just fine if you don't bother me, okay?" He shot her one last glare, making sure she wasn't going to try and approach him.
He kept his eyes on her while he settled down to grasp the bone in his jaws. It comforted him. That's why he was chewing on it, even though it was a pup's toy. He had loved chewing bones as a puppy and Phobos had loved...well, Phobos had loved that damn blanket. He called it 'blaney' and carried it everywhere, sometimes piddling on it to mark it as his and drooling on it copiously. He had wanted to take it so badly and was arguing when Deimos had wanted him to drop it so he could help Deimos drag the deer. The deer that had clipped Deimos in the side with his antlers and wounded him. He had made a kill worth four meals but all Phobos wanted was that fucking blaney.
Deimos was recalling his most painful moments. He had his eyes on the girl but his teeth were now doing their own thing, gnashing at the recollection of Phobos' blaney . Instead of enjoying the bone, Deimos had gripped it in the middle and snapped it in half, a startling pop that drove him out of his subconscious mind. He felt the pieces scattered around him and he scowled angrily at what he had done. "Fuck it," he mumbled, lifting himself up in search of another along his section of the prison, ignoring the muddy girl while he went to get another appropriate femur. He wasn't going to leave the room because bones did not seem to be in short supply. He moved some around, considering his choices before selecting another.
Then, he went back to the blanket to stare at the girl with his golden eyes, his teeth worrying and needling his new prize.
The specter remained uncertain but did her best to appear confident in the face of such an intimidating brute. His snarl had died down a bit but he remained poised, hackles raised, half raised over his ancient bone and muscles coiled ready to strike. Raziri recognized the posture as something akin to a rattlesnake. His snarl was equal to the warning rattle, his coiled posture was that of a pissed off snake anticipating the other to move closer within striking range. Raziri did not budge. If he wanted to strike her, he would have to leave his raggedy blanket and bone to come to her at which point she would be ready to evade him.
As the snarl died, the rage in his eyes softened to what she perceived as sadness something that intrigued her. He seemed to be in his own world, perhaps remembering a fond but sad memory, perhaps something else entirely. Regardless, Raziri remained still. When his hateful reply reached her ears she nodded slightly as he plopped himself back down to savagely grab the bone to gnaw on again. Before he began again, he spoke, giving her another round of aggressive words. Messy kid? The words caused a soft growl to rumble in her throat. “I am not some messy kid. I’ve done well for myself, I don’t need you to ‘deal’ with me.” Her tones were firm, irritated even. His next words caused a soft huff. “Yeah..I can see that. Must be so time consuming to absently gnaw on a dusty old bone.” Raziri just couldn’t keep the words back. She knew she was pushing buttons and because of that- she waited to make sure she hadn’t pushed him too far.
After a few moments of them staring at each other, she backed up several more steps until her rump bumped against a wall. From there she turned to get to the corner she had specified earlier as he cracked the bone he’d had. An angry mumble could be heard, but she didn’t acknowledge it with words, only eyed him cautiously as he grabbed yet another bone. He plopped back down on his blanket and continued to gnaw on it while staring at her. Well…I wont be sleeping any tonight. She thought as she lay there, eyes shifting between the angry black shape and the door where she could see a sliver of the storm raging outside. “I’m Raziri. What’s your name?” She asked, deciding that if he was going to gawk at her, she would at least attempt to get to know him.
She was talking again and Deimos scowled, angered that she still insisted on interrupting the quiet with her babbling. Normally, he would have welcomed a good argument, perhaps even a fight, but with thoughts of Phobos in his head, the black dog wasn't in the mood. He sneered at her pandering defense, not caring her reasons or justifications. She was a sniveling little brat and it pleased him to know he had at least gotten a rise out of her. He didn't need to be feared. He just liked to know he could still crawl under someone's skin without effort. It was a gift his mother had given him and it was the only one. He could irritate the shit out of anyone, no matter how calm and stoic they claimed to be.
He snickered lightly at her growl, chewing his bone and watching her with unblinking yellow eyes. She huffed at him, almost disapproving of the way he slobbered and worried his bone like a feral beast. He shrugged softly at her remark, showing his indifference to what she considered time consuming. He was trying to relive the horrors of memory lane, not that she knew anything about true horror. That was time consuming, not chewing a bone, but the black dog wasn't going to enlighten her about it, anyway. For once, the brute remained silence in the face of confrontation. He had things to think and wasn't in the mood to banter.
He was quite, toiling with his bone as the storm continued to ravage the city but at a less aggressive rate. The wind was no longer shrieking, but instead moaned like a ghoul. The rain was no longer a sheet of water dropping from the sky like a guillotine, but was beginning to slacken to a strong downpour that would soak within minutes instead of mere seconds. The white juvenile had plopped herself down in the corner opposite to Deimos and it brought him great amusement to just stare it while chewing his bone, projecting himself as creepy and savage. He was good at the thousand-yard stare, and despite his horrible memories coasting in and out of his mind's periphery, he still found enjoyment in making other's uncomfortable.
She had decided to break up the monotony of his creepiness with an introduction, following up with a question. The black shepherd stopped chewing his bone and let it slacken on his feet, its ancient surface coated with saliva and punctured by keen teeth. He didn't answer her immediately and simply snorted at her name. Raziri. So, the scruffy monster had a name. Deimos felt a snarl pool up in his throat, but he didn't lash out aggressively and tell her to bugger off. He simply stared her, unblinking.
Finally, he gave her his name,
"Deimos," abrupt and not very conversational. He fell silent again, content to stare at the female like a vulture might stare at a carcass. "Raziri, huh. Got any family?" The silence broken by this question, one that seemed benign. However, Deimos was never one to go against his nature. "Did you have a good family life?" He was sounding sly, waiting for her to either spout about how wonderful family was or how miserable. He could work with both, but misery loves company.
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