[Oleander]

He expected defiance. It was evident in the way the band of three stood together and looked down upon all those that’d gathered in Azuhel’s honer.

They were too far up their own assholes to see the truth, as plain as day, there right in front of them. To understand that through the course of months, in which they believed themselves to have power, the Dragon had taken everything that could’ve been their own. She hadn’t stolen it. The red canine hadn’t needed to do so. Anya was an alpha only in name, and to most of the congregation that was the only name they knew her by...if that much. She knew them as well as they knew her, and not much more could be said on Gidion’s behalf either. The older boy might’ve been addressing Oleander specifically for his curt demand, but he might as well have been speaking to anyone else considering how little attention the black and white wolf was paying him.

He was not the little child who snapped angrily at every indignation anymore. He was no longer all bark and no bite to back it up.

His sights were set wholly on Lynx.

While not a prominent fixture in his life Oleander remembered her at least...Remembered how he despised her for getting in between him and his pathetic half sibling who continued to brood in the shadows. Remembered how she seemed to think so little of him back then...and rightfully so. Yet, a woman in her position must’ve known all too well what stupid, little puppies might eventually grow into someday if they made it that far. Big wolves, with large teeth, and a long-lasting grudge for her kind in this pack.

She would've been better off letting Sachiel have him.

Ah, but that was her mistake.

"Anya, Anya, I'm here," Her words boomed louder in the young man’s ears than the sounds of Gidion’s disgruntled tone. A hungry animal doesn’t pay much mind to a small fly circling their meal, and as it was, the puppet king would have his own impending chaos to focus on very soon.

It is a bit interesting, if not fitting, two brothers who hardly knew one another literally leaping into action around the same time, for the same cause. But then, this was why he appreciated that part of his Mother's mostly useless litter all the more. Warsaw and Leviathan knew how to get shit done.

Does Azuhel even need to give the order?

Off-white teeth clicked in place, then his jaw split wide as he came towards her, his first target. He was still young but by this point, wolves were nearly at their full height and size. Maturity gripped his muscle and bone. Oleander was taller and much thicker, but the Leopard was naturally a flexible beast with large claws and fangs of her own. Hopefully, the two sudden attacks at one time would catch the feline off guard, and if she didn’t move out of reach Ollie aimed to, shockingly, not bite at first. His mouth would close shut while his head tucked low, and he moved to ram into the woman at the last minute like a tank. Knocking her down. Maybe just stunning her. If it was at least the latter than his teeth would flash again and he’d dig into whatever pound of flesh he had access too.

But he wouldn’t kill her even if he or others got a hold of her~

He wasn’t the one disrespected. He wasn’t the one pushed aside for the loyalty of a complete and utter stranger.

No, Lynx’s fate rested in the same paws that held all three of those in the balance.

Oleander was just assisting in a citizen's arrest.

[ooc:
- Ollie's just paying attention to the cat right now.
- I'll edit in anything else that's pertaining to him later, but I want to get his attack up because I've had it done for hours.
- He's going for lynx and trying to knock her down or just slam into her to stun her.
- He'll try biting her if either of those two things happens.
- He's definitely not trying to kill her, just trying to hold her.
- Blondie hit me up if you need something . ]

[Orcrist]

They came, howling and yipping for the Dragon. Something swelled within the Commandant's chest — something akin to pride and he flashed his teeth in pleasure. Olive eyes rolled to each one, counting the members of the Dragon's lair, paws shifting in anticipation for the moment. Orcrist could feel something writhe within, his stomach growled and howled as loud as the children screaming AZUHEL. The old Tower caught himself (nearly) in the teeth of the Viscount, ordering them to bow to their rightful Queen. Sarissa was such a good girl in doing so, offering her grandmother a graceful bow — one of respect instead of groveling pathetically. The glutton chuckled, drool pooling beneath his chin.

He was even pleased that Caesar was there.

Orcrist ignored the stalking of Crow and the glare given by Incubus only to have his intense stare toward Anya, who slithered her way through the forest to the call, standing before the Dragon's people and demanding silence. The Commandant stood then, head lower than his Queen's and he would watch her like a predator would prey.

Let the Dragon speak.

A command that the people chewed and spit before her. Oleander, his dear son, told her to be quiet. Orcrist nearly burst into laughter, wanting to be proud — no, he was proud. So proud he slinked toward Ollie and gave his son a loving nip behind the ear. He would force him over some as the Commandant walked by, but would let go and continue to Atlas who bowed to her mother. Such a good woman, so much loyalty than before. She had roped in the other twin in which Sarissa jumped at, standing next to as they usually did with devil-cast eyes — the eyes of a woman who was long past dead.

As he continued to stalk Anya in a circle around Azuhel's ring of fire, Orcrist would step over Taurn and continue to Rooter who was confused by the spectacle. Shoulder would touch shoulder — "Now is not the time, my friend." he said, continuing on around the circle. His gaze shifted to Lynx who had been tolerated for so long as a cat within their midst, now unfurled her true loyalties. Perhaps that is why she stayed, because Anya forced Azuhel to tolerate a creature who once devastated their lands. If need be, he would order his large new friend to grab her. A cat Lynx's size could easily crush a wolf's head in one bite, but try to crush a bear's head you fucking bitch.

Surprisingly, Orcrist caught Cuff giving her loyalties to Azuhel. Teeth once again flashed in an awkward smile. Damn, thought I'd enjoy gutting you.

The Boy-King who stood beside his dear mother demanded silence as well, and in a flash, Warsaw had spit the words back and attacked. Orcrist stopped in his tracks, spinning on his heels to face toward Anya again. He ached for the moment he could rip her apart. Anya had sat with that fucking King who did nothing for Alteron. Anya had placed her son on a throne where he once again FAILED. Tongue lapped at his muzzle, the drool dripping down to the forest floor where his mother died. Where she gave everything to Alteron as Azuhel gave her everything. The people would stand for the Dragon —

LONG LIVE THE DRAGON. LONG LIVE THE SOVEREIGN.

"LONG LIVE THE RIGHTFUL QUEEN OF ALTERON."

And as soon as Azuhel gave the orders he so desperately wanted to hear, he lunged at Anya. Teeth would try to grab at her neck and pull her down, his weight being shifted fully on the smaller wolf. Although he was fat, overweight, Orcrist could indeed move fast as most of the girth under his fur was indeed muscle. Teeth would hold tightly, breaking skin if he latched on right, and locked his jaw. She would watch helplessly as her boy was punished, he would make sure she was helpless.

He would deal with the Tower later.

✦ ✦ Speech Text ✦ ✦

[Sarissa]

The girl pranced along until many more came, and it was when she finally settled to listen and watch. Greedy red eyes panned to each face — some she knew, some she didn't. Each one came with a piece of themselves to give to the Dragon and Azuhel drank in every praise, every hail just as a Queen should. A dragon watched the brood carefully, calculating every loyalty that was given and weighed it upon her claw. It wasn't until she spotted Anzu did she move suddenly, slinking over to give her a quick kiss and Hercules a small sneer. A tail would rub against both their chins as she passed, hopping over to her other half, her sister, her love.

Mother was in a foul mood as always.

As she sat though, Sarissa noted her father circling one wolf in particular — the Keystone. Even mother had bared her fangs at this creature, a woman who thought she had control over the masses. Like her brother Oleander, she nearly spat at the idea, laughing and giggling with a scarred paw over her mouth. "How absurd of you, to tell us to be silent." Because you, my dear, have no control. The girl nudged her sister then, an indication of standing on all fours, to be ready for anything that could happen. Sarissa could nearly smell — taste — the blood in the air. It was coming, a storm of wills and fallen crowns.

As her brother sets his sights on the cat who moved to the Keystone's side, the girl set hers on the boy who so readily wanted to be Sovereign. He was not in the eyes of Sarissa who grew up as a noble under Azuhel's rule. Never Anya, never Gideon. So, when he demanded the masses be quiet, a long-lost brother broke out to silence the once-Sovereign boy, teeth clacking. This was the violence she was looking for. Without hesitation, Sarissa bolted forward past her sister, her mother, her father. She would come from behind, snapping at his hide quarter, to sink her fangs into muscle. Hopefully he would've been too distracted by Warsaw to see her coming, but she was prepared for those teeth to turn on her quickly.

If he was smart enough~

The orders were clear too, to restrain both. Sarissa wanted to feel that blood pour into her mouth, to taste her first — no, second victory. This one would be of her own will, not the work of her mother or Azuhel as they had taken care of Caesar's indecency. The girl wanted her pound of flesh, to make her grandmother proud and to showcase that she could hold her own. Her wings spread, taking flight for the first time in the form of teeth against flesh.

If the girl caught his muscular leg, she would try to yank back, to hold him off-center for Warsaw to grab a better position — or anyone else for that matter.

This was their day. Azuhel's day and those who tried to rule would splatter against the Earth, becoming one with the muck.

✦ ✦ Speech Text ✦ ✦

[Kokipa]

It is often the darkest skies
that show the brightest stars

-Richard Evans

---

May wolves had showed up, gathering around the red dragon she remembered from the past. Kokipa did not bow as she was supposed to, but stayed back near the wolf who also didn't bow. She spoke to no one, felt nothing as they arrived. Some wolves she recognized and some she didn't. She just watched. So many had showed up when called, she did not remember this when the previous rulers would call upon his subjects. But then again, she had been gone a long time and did not have the time to catch up on everything. She would have to find someone to talked to her to ask about it. Her rose eyes took in everything, noting how wolves acted and reacted. The black wolf noted nothing different than the time she had been active. The black wolf still had yet to find a purpose to serve in this new world of Alteron. Had yet to find anyone she actually knew.

"BOW, TO YOUR SOVEREIGN. THE RIGHTFUL QUEEN OF ALTERON." one of the first to show up said, she was dark and had a way that reminded Kokipa of darker things. The black wolf now knew that the wolf who stood before them all now was Queen. Self made? Most likely that was the way.  But Kokipa was just going to sit in her stance, not bowing or anything else to show the correct authority to the Dragon. Those who rose to power within Alteron were not ones to sit idle if there was a change to become powerful through work. But then something changed, there was anger and hate towards a young wolf and another female. Kokipa did not understand, but the Dragon ordered the attack on them, to restrain them. One did not restrain anyone here in Alteron. The pup was young, stupid in a way to speak out, but she was not going to join in the melee. She was just a watcher. And she was just going to watch what happened.

[Antaeus]

There is so much pride in this moment that it has left Antaeus feeling as giddy as he was back in that hollowed out tree. When his flame-kissed sibling fed him and each of his other kin some manner of drug that overrode his usually tranquil system. He wasn’t as loud, as talkative, as he had been in that moment with the fallen girl...he couldn’t quite remember what they’d done to her in service of his mother, but perhaps in time, something would jog his memory. For now, he sat tall and happy.

Such emotion was lost upon his expression as he peered through tendrils of greasy hair over towards the assembling gaggle of forgotten faces, but even still, it was there. HIs Mother assumed her role. The people flocked around her. His wife seemed as pleased as he was, and the children. His cultivated spawn was proving to be everything he’d hoped and wanted. It was a rarity, but he could feel the corners of his lips beginning to crack. Not quite a smile, but something toothy, something close. His large eyes grew more awake behind the veil, as his chest heaved with every high pitched cheer they made.

They were wonderful. Good. Proof that his and Shatter's efforts were not wasted. Proof that their union was as perfect as he'd always know it to be. These excelling little bodies would one day grow up to be every bit as good as he had under his Mother's protection and teachings, and they would not be...

His attention snapped back up to the three suddenly, to the pathetic display they put on before the crowd. First to the cat that did not belong, then to the woman who meant something only to the pair at her side, the...the boy...the child.

He was grown but still hat the disrespectful tongue of a babe lodged in his mouth. His pups would never be THAT. Should he notice them slipping Antaeus would snuff them out...but someone had made a mistake with Gideon. Someone had brought this child up without the proper schooling.

He made the mistake of thinking that the spotted wolf was speaking to Mord, and he drew in the air sharply, pulling the small boy close.

He'd destroyed children for offending him less. Taken them by their skulls and thrashed the disobedience from them until they started bleeding from their heads. What could he do to this one stood just ahead...what would he do.

But for his Mother's clear instruction, he'd of attempted to inflict far worse upon the lad.

Warsaw, his oldest, yes he thought of the lad as his own, went for the eyes. A black and white lass came at the false prince from the back. So Antaeus, the Dragon's hulking, eerie hatchling came to his feet. He left his own brood and moved to strike Gideon harshly upon his head. Knocking away the bone headdress if it was there, and either way attempting to bite down upon the smaller's head, applying pressure but only just enough...Mother didn't want him dead.

In the process he would force his bulk into the boy, looping a paw over his tiny shoulders. Digging his hook-like nails into his fur and skin. He wanted to throw him down, drag him low, and show him that he was no better than the dirt beneath his paws. All the while, hopefully squeezing their head between his teeth until the young man thought his skull might pop.

[ooc: Just a quick note!
- Ant's going for Gideon as well.
- He's trying to knock Gideon's head crown off (only if he has it, idk if he does or not) and either way trying to bite him on the dome.
- He's also attempting to throw a leg over him to knock him over
- He's squeezing his noggin if he's got it in his mouth, but that's about it. Ant's main goal is to subdue him.]

[Pawprint]

(Terribly short Edit: added some reflection.)

ROOTER


The bear almost flinched when the Commandant said nothing when the alpha turned to him.  His mind went to fight or flight mode until he was greeted by her and Orcrist walked to him with gentle words.  His...friend's assurance surprised and warmed Rooter.  What looked like a grimace was actually a smile as Rooter nodded in understanding.  So he owed the wolf twice now.

When the order was given to attack, the bear saw Orcrist lunge for the Keystone's neck.  He joined in unison, but in true bear fashion, he did the unthinkable: he threw his weight on Anya, hoping his 600 pounds of meat and fur would hold some part of her.  The small wolf was surely quick, but he tried anyway.  If any other were to go after, save the Commandant, they had to be quick too.  Bears were not known to be graceful.  Of course everyone would want a piece of the female, but the bear wanted his friend to take the most credit.

Admittedly, Rooter was hiding two secrets at the moment.  He was hoping to spare Anya a thousand teeth upon her.  Seeing the ravenous response on the boy--her son?--showed the single mindedness wolves possessed.  He admired the few that stood together.  Staging their protest against the stupidity of blind loyalty when in due time, this leader would be taken out or die when her time would come.  Would the wolves fight to save their leader or mourn her death?  Or would she be disgarded like the Keystone and her child?  Rooter visibly shook his head. It also reminded him of something he kept to himself, the second secret, from the confusion turning to realization that this was a hostile takeover...

Rooter absolutely abhorred politics.

If feeling threatened by others was such a big deal, the alpha should have killed them herself.  This seemed like an overdone production.  He could have just sat on them both and be done with it.  But then again, he was just a bear.  And he was sure that was all they thought of him too.

[Crow]

- Crow gives his best grin (like a villain from a shitty slasher movie trying to be charming) in response to Azuhel's frenetic affections.

- Sees Miasma. Why hello there. Moves closer and runs his nails down his little daughter's back like a man stroking a pretty cat. Something in her body language reminds him jarringly of Charon and for a moment he wants to beat her mercilessly before it passes and he quiets the mad urge.

- Azuhel makes her speech. He likes hearing her talk. Not even her words as much as the way she speaks them, the way she plays svengali to this weak-willed crowd. Her show of power is as enchanting as it was effective. Crow run his tongue over his teeth.

- Smells a scent so old to him it prickles his hackles and averts his eyes. Izanagi, the beast with snake's eyes. He recognizes her from... poor times. Doubtful that she'd recognize him anymore, this thing that has grown from one starving, freezing yearling on the glacial beach.

- In a rush of noise, everyone goes apeshit!!! They're all really mad at the little lady and her boy that showed up and demanded back their authority. This means literally nothing to Crow. He's not interested in mobbing them like they were footballs and he was a fucking linebacker, and there are plenty of random yokels to do that anyway, so... Crow only watches. One male (another son, unbeknownst to him) tries to snatch a crown from Gideon's head that doesn't actually seem to be there. Huh.

- Stops petting Mia and instead grips the back of her neck. "Watch," he says cheerfully.

[Eidith (RP)]

Edie began to zone out as other wolves arrived, bowing and greeting the Queen (or whatever her title was, she didn't give a fuck) as she had done. Then, she raised an eyebrow as this dark, slightly hagged woman demanded the location of her son. Edie giggled unkindly. Oh, dear. Had Mummy's little diddums not lived up to Alteron's expectations and now it was everybody's fault but her's that he had wandered off in the forest somewhere. Never to return or be mentioned on anybody's tongue again. Her own parents wouldn't give a damn if she went missing. They'd simply roll their eyes and focus on their more sensible and devoted children... Except that would never happen because Edie was born to nobility and nobility did NOT abandon its packlands. 

Then, the boy himself turned up.

“Be silent. Or I will silence you.”

Edie frowned. It was a real frown, born out of confusion and JUST WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE TO TELL ME WHAT TO DO?? The black and white girl she was standing near rightfully responded with a indignant retort, to remind this boy that he was on the same level as the rest of them. If not lower, if he had strayed in his duties and his mummy had to stamp her foot down and demand his whereabouts like an irate child. Edie could not resist firing off a taunting response of her own.

"Uh - excuse me, but who are you?" 

This was how out of sync Gideon was. If Edie had no idea who he was: he was NOT important. He was not in any position to order her about. Just who the hell did he think he was? The King? The Sovereign? No, he was nothing. He had not called this meeting, he was not an entry in Edie's database of those who were important so he therefore just a rabble-rouser that could not handle his toys - whichever he had once held - being taken from him. Then, the Dragon gave the command and several sprang forward, their savage intent clear in their eyes as they strived to obey an official decree from their TRUE ruler and methodically tear the boy down. Reduce him to what he truly was: trash. Edie giggled once more but she remained where she was standing and observed as one wolf aimed for what would've passed as a crown in a previous life.

When such fashion and such theatrics were accepted in Alteron. Whilst some thought all this to be overdone and unnecessary, Edie was of the opinion that the insolent, unimportant boy with the stupid, makeshift crown was the only overblown thing here. Nevertheless, Edie simply remained seated and watched.

This one was too pathetic to waste her time on.

[Crisis]

She watched Warsaw lunge for Gideon's face, and tsked. "Gideon, Gideon, Gidion. Tension like this, and I wonder where his sense went. Idiot's gonna get mauled by this crowd, throwin' out orders like that." Her voice was low, her words just between her and Leviathan. But Azuhel's orders suggested a different fate for the boy, and almost as soon as the command left her mouth, it was as though all hell broke loose. Crisis watched some other unknown sibling of hers go for the cat, trying to bowl the creature over. Good luck with that, mate, she thought. She hadn't the mind for politics, hadn't thought much of what it meant for Lynx to stand so near to Anya, hadn't really considered mulling it over. Everyone else seemed to know the significance, and that was enough, she supposed.

Her father went for Anya, and she knew that to be her cue. She rose, slipping closer to the action, watching the others for their choices of target. Sarissa, bloodthirsty Sarissa, went for the boy, and all Crisis could think was, Figures. No surprises there. Another, pelt as dark as dried blood, went for Gideon as well, attempting to close his jaws on the boy's skull. Interesting maneuver, she thought. Better hope he doesn't kill him by accident. She held back long enough to watch the giant bear rise and fall in an attempt to pin Anya beneath him. If Anya moved out of the way in time Crisis would surge forward and attempt to clamp her jaws down on one of her hind legs. And then she would simply hold her there, as commanded. But if the pin was successful and Anya was held, Crisis would take aim for Gideon and try to grab hold of one of his legs-- whichever was closest, and that Sarissa had not already chosen to attack.  

The thought occurred to her that her skills as an Alchemist might be needed when this was done, but that was no reason not to join in. A command was a command. If ever there was a time to prove one's loyalty, this was it.

[Leviathan]

The coup was a lot like Leviathan had expected it to be. A lot of noise, cheers among the occasional protest or unsure voice, as if the outcome hasn't been decided already. With Warsaw now sitting snuggling next to him, Leviathan had slowly blocked out most of the voices coming in, eyes only trailing among the newcomers before settling again on Azuhel. His grandmother was as strange and eccentric as ever, but she did nothing but command power. Even to those who did not want to see her have it could not argue that she already did.

That he could all predict. What he couldn't have predicted was the fallen Sovereign and his mother, whom leviathan had only met so briefly and had forgotten just as quickly. They came, and made demands, made Leviathan's eyebrows raise momentarily. This would have been interesting, if they had any control anymore, any say or any power at all. Instead, heads turned against them before they finished trying to silence everyone, and then- Then Warsaw went. Always more eager for action, always caring more about the structure of things. Maybe that's why he was a noble now, and Leviathan still under the Red Dragon.

The sudden disappearance of his brother actually startled leviathan, who stood to follow him briskly, only just so registering Azuhel's command to restrain the two wolves that fell from grace. Picking up his pace, Leviathan soon followed Warsaw and Sarissa in restraining the boy, only so much older than they were. His half sister seemed to want more than restraint, but that wasn't surprising. The Herald kept his teeth to himself, letting his siblings administer whatever pain they wanted, while he himself used his weight to try and almost literally restrain and pin the ex-sovereign to the ground whenever the right moment came.

He concentrated while there was a struggle, letting anyone who pleased join in. When it ended, whenever that was, Leviathan would glance at his brother, lips slightly downturned. "Impulsive." it almost sounded like a criticism, but Leviathan provided no more than that.

(sorry if i missed something my eyes are bad ;v; )

[Caesar]

Caesar was mildly surprised at the amount of people that filed in after her, the crowd slowly growing in size and momentum. Building. Swelling until her mother was surrounded by a veritable swarm of supporters. Piper, the strange hellion she'd met briefly in the Pen came bearing great gifts for the Dragon and Caesar smiled slightly. Her mother deserved the greatest of treasures. Ah.. but things weren't always as they seemed in Alteron, were they? The echoing chorus that called for the Dragons rise to power were cut short when a dark female, a virtual stranger to Caesar, walked into their midst and demanded silence. The red dragonling felt a single brow rise in disbelief at the audacity of this woman and she blinked several times.  

Oh and she had a supporter as well. The sight of the feline made Caesar's face twist into a scowl. She remembered the invasion of Alteron by the fur puking cats. If their invasion had taught her anything it was that felines were distasteful, shifty creatures that couldn't be trusted. Gun metal grey eyes shifted from the interlopers to Azuhel, curious to gauge her mothers reaction, wondering if she shared her feelings of suspicion.

She ignored the squeaks of indignation from the children for now. They may have been nobility but they were still far to young to really matter to her just yet. They did seem to matter to one individual, however. A young male wearing a crown of bones entered the stage and she felt her interest pique even further. Oh, this was turning out to be quite an eventful night, wasn't it. He too demanded silence. Caesar tilted her head, narrowing her eyes as she scrutinized his appearance. He held himself with an air of authority that didn't quite fit. The colors of his pelt were similar to the other woman who had demanded silence and it wasn't too hard for Caesar to put two and two together. Relatives. Mother and son perhaps? Her speculations came to a violent halt when Azuhel spoke again, this time to command her audience to seize those that dare show defiance in the face of her authority.  

Everyone seemed to explode into action at once, several attacking the fallen boy-king and his mother. But who was paying attention to that dirty cat? A young boy, black and white and similar in appearance to the little bitch who had greeted her on the borders was already moving towards her target and she snarled in approval. This was Caesar's shining moment, her one opportunity to prove her loyalty and show her mother that she was and always would be her faithful daughter. 

Obeying Azuhel's command, Caesar quickly closed the distance between her and the leopard. The boy was already mid attack when she reached the pair. Her neck would extend with serpentine speed to strike out at the base of the cats tail, tugging on it like a toy to distract it enough for the boy to set up his next attempt. If her plan failed and the leopard still tried to reach the dark brown females side Caesar would have no problem attacking full force. She would go for the throat, the face, shoulders, chest, anything that she could get a good grip on to rip and tear it from Lynx's body. Years of resentment and rage blossomed in her chest like a roaring flame and oh how she wanted this cat to burn with it.

[Miasma]

   Miasma's hackles crawl up her back, and it's only through force of will that her tail swipes the ground once instead of pathetically beating against it. She stays quiet, a set-piece to the conflict, an extra to the looks exchanged between her father and the-- Sovereign, they hail her?

   Mia never did know that many faces in Oukoku-Kai, and she supposes she is doomed to the same obscurity here. She will fight for recognition, though-- grievously. Daddy is watching. Cat and bear, neither of which she had really considered thinking beings before, battle wolves that vastly outnumber. They follow orders, it seems: cat to the small wolf, and bear to the fat one, tamed creatures. It occurs to her, in passing, that Miasma would very much like some kept creature of her own (something to stroke as Crow does her, now; to train up as one might a child, and strangle into oblivion when they inevitably displease her).

   She lifts a paw when the orders come-- they should be making a good first impression, right? Prove their loyalty by eviscerating the traitor? She lifts one paw, shifts her weight and looks for her father's permission, only for her attention to be forcibly returned.

   Obediently, she watches, eyes fixed gladly on the bloodshed that doesn't interest her nearly so much as her father's hold.

[Lemieux]

And you, my father, there on the sad height,

Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.

---

It didn't take long that right after his proclamation to Azuhel that he'd been accused of lying. Fine. This was a curious enough exchange because he hadn't believed himself to be lying at first, at least not enough to purposefully show, but apparently nothing he did would ever be sincere enough in the way that these strangers would want it. How curious that among the faces he saw then he recognized so little of them, all raucous and devout in their blind assault against the ones who'd fought and sacrificed hardest for the land they took for granted. He said and did nothing. Not to announce his displeasure, nor to affirm their suspicions, nor to defend himself - all ultimately pointless ventures brought up from pride, of which Lemieux had very little left.

A breath caught his throat as the woman - his friend, the only true friend he'd ever had - strode into the clearing, fearless and brave. Perhaps she, too, would've liked to be a stranger to him. He wouldn't have blamed her. The price of familiarity wasn't lost on him, however, cursed unto the fallen Tower with a silent agony the likes of which he'd never known. In spite of this the pain ever present on his features melted away by a series of degrees to a painful, inhospitable clarity, banishing a fog from half-blind eyes as if seeing the world for the first time.

Anya.

Lemieux wasn't stupid enough to think that she'd come there to protect him. Even now, he hardly deserved her kindness. While she was there for a very different purpose, all the brute could think about were the images of happier times. Laughter, camaraderie, and friendship. Bonds forged not from the kingdom of Alteron's dying heart, but of their own doing. As they made their way across verdant fields and treacherous valleys, their minds on conquest, perhaps it had been there that they'd ignored their true purpose in exchange for death itself. Had Ajax known all along? Was that secret so painful that he'd gone in search for a greater purpose than his very own birthright? 

It made sense, in a way. He'd called the young man a liar back then, mostly out of love and fear, only to ignore the lies they'd told themselves the entire time. Little ones, big ones. His life had been a series of whispers that'd turned him into a monster, something he hardly recognized now. How much weight had he lost? How much sanity was gone? How much more could he or others carve away until only a skeleton could be deemed any worth? 


This wasn't living.

When he snapped back to reality, Gideon was there. Everyone seemed on top of one another the next moment, and yet he didn't dare move an inch. Had he come this far to realize he was a coward all along? Tears stung at his eyes and he choked, finally, a pale utterance of desperation.

"... Anya."

SAVE ME.

---

Do not go gentle into that good night.

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

[Shatter]

we've got some graves to fill and a slaughterhouse to run

Lemieux groveled to her satisfaction, mumbling some words he obviously didn't mean, but for now the domineering overseer chose to be appeased by the bare minimum when there were more pressing issues at hand. As she sought to use Lemieux as an example, she was joined with jeers and chants from the crowd, and if that in itself was not a demonstration of how Alteron itself had turned on its former council she supposed nothing else would suffice. Shatter curled her paw in the dirt, pleased, and stalked past Lemieux with a purposeful strut. She was not smiling but she exuded a palpable smugness.

She reunited with Antaeus at his side and for the rest of the meeting, she stayed there, waiting for her children to join her. Melek Taus, who tasted the name of his homeland and roared ALTERON for all to hear. Screaming Jyggalag. Amdusias, who came to revel in her bluebloodedness. When Anya finally showed her face, Mordred spat the reality of her irrelevance. Shatter loathed every last one of those wriggling larva and yet they were hers.

Anya gave Shatter her first taste of nobility. Maybe they met afterward; briefly, fleetingly, occasionally. Never enough. Anya was not weak and she was not stupid but between her and Azuhel, there was no comparison. Perhaps if things were different, old friend.

Next came Gideon, stripped of the crown that Shatter gifted him. One look at him had been enough for Shatter to know what would become of the puppet royal. His whole life had been predicted in a millisecond. Gideon might have had illusions at first, but they hadn't lasted long. Now he knew what was at the end of the road that was ahead of him and in the distance, he could see the guillotine looming. Regardless of the reality of his predicament, he still snarled for Oleander (and perhaps by extension, Mordred) to be silent and that miscalculation riled her. How dare he or Anya presume that they still had authority to flaunt here, surrounded by revolutionaries crowing for their heads. Who was there to defend them or enforce their commands? Haggard Lemieux, who was incapable of asserting his will upon anyone? Anya's pet cat, who was hopelessly outnumbered?

Shatter made eye contact with Antaeus. She resolved that she would not allow anyone to disrespect her children. That was a privilege reserved only for herself. Warsaw screamed something and barreled at Gideon, cutting Azuhel's opportunity for a rambling villainous monologue short. Shatter had to appreciate her apprentice's energy.

Upon Azuhel's command, she streaked for Gideon, snaking jaggedly through the swarms of people like a bolt of electricity traveling horizontally. If Azuhel's leer failed to imprint itself upon Gideon's adolescent consciousness, then the sight of Shatter's glinting teeth aimed for the nape of his neck would be what chased him through his nightmares. The Dragon demanded her prize to be presented in one piece, but Shatter could not prevent what was inadvertently inflicted on Gideon through his own stubbornness, and it was sadly obvious that the boy-king, despite his political ineffectiveness, would not surrender without a retreat.

It was the sort of pride she would almost admire if she did not find it so pointless.

It didn't matter that Gideon was almost fully grown. To Shatter, he was still a child trembling on his velvet cushion.

[Zasha]

#a91101
song inspo
Demon God

He'd slunk around in the shadows as everyone chanted their words of loyalty and appreciation to the dragon matron, all of them pouring in like hungry babes to suckle at the teat of opportunity, Zasha would wheeze in the background. Keeping a watchful over his own, counting the little heads of his children and making sure they never left his sight. There were too many here and the kids were still just tiny little sprouts with room to grow. This meeting presented an opportune chance for anyone feeling ballsy enough. 

The ex-Hawkeye wouldn't allow for it to even be a thought.

Red gaze cast a glance at the Red Queen's triumphant form, she'd be before her subjects a burning figure to slash and burn an old regime and remake it in her likeness. She had gathered a lot of support, and if Zasha was anymore aware of the situation he'd wonder who the opposition was. Where their forces were, if they hadn't turned tail already.

His greasy, inky body slithering through the crowd only to stop as Azuhel began to address her supporters, a boy in the mixed, and she called for the young lad. There was a surprising familiarity to it all, like a case of bad déjà vu. Scene: Saboro, after the fall of the old monarch, Serrate had left and they were dealing with the last of her supporters. Pan left: Flynn, and his demise. Coven had barked the order, Zasha had rushed in as did the rest of Saboro.

Had he been younger, he might have jumped at the chance to prove his loyalties, but he knew how this one would end. They swarmed Gideon like hungry sharks, it was always the same. 

[Cuff]

It was only one word. One syllable. But it was still her name in the end.

And it sounded terribly heavy on the tongue speaking it.

The weaving of the Dragon's words was a short but intricate art, blood and honey finely intertwined, designed for swift obedience and an even swifter surrender. It was meant to ensure that what was wanted would not be denied in the end—and it wasn't. A simple command from that same tongue proved that that was all the red woman needed.

One body rushed in, followed by another in a grappling wave of snarling teeth and claws. Each sound ricocheted in Cuff's head as she stood back and watched, an amplified buzzing that only grew more louder, more deafening, with each passing breath. For a moment, she couldn't help but think about the scar that she carried on her muzzle. The scar that Anya had given to her for Ajax. It had been the first mark the silver woman had ever willingly taken for someone else. The blood she'd given that day had been a pledge. A reminder. A promise.

(A mistake.)

She looked silently to her children, at Aspen beside her, at Umbra and Zach hovering closely nearby, her red gaze even falling briefly on Seir, who too had found her side at some point. If each of them still stood there, frozen in place, watching everything unfold with bated breaths, she hoped they felt her gaze strongly enough to look back. Hoped that the look she sent them conveyed enough.

It's okay. You can be angry. You can be scared. Stand back or act if you must, but don't be reckless. These people around you are dangerous. Remember that.

Otherwise it could easily be one of them falling under that swarm someday. 

She turned from her family and took a slow step forward, then another, each one pained and deliberate, made heavy by the chains shackled there. Coward, whispered a voice in the back of her mind, but Cuff rejected it with a nauseous feeling in her stomach. I have to do this, she told it, told herself, forcing her body forward. I have to. Today marked a pivotal moment, after all. One that many here believed was necessary. Ignoring it would have undoubtedly meant earning naught but a swift and fatal sentence, and that was something Cuff could not afford. She knew better. She understood the game now.

She played it everyday.

Anya, she thought as she drew close, painfully aware of Lynx and Gideon (winter's child, the darkling son, the boy-king held under wrath and siege, who stood so strongly, who wasn't that much older than her own children) standing loyally by the Keystone's side. She swallowed thickly and ignored them, deliberately keeping her red gaze locked only on Anya as she slowly drew her weapon, brandishing ivory bladed teeth. I'm sorry—I'm so sorry. This wasn't personal. It had never been. Cuff just wanted her children to be safe. She wanted them to survive. Sometimes that unfortunately meant other people having to suffer for it in the end.

Forgive me.

She leapt into the fray, weapon raised, aiming for any part of the other woman that she could simply reach, feeling the terrible weight of her guilt and convictions fall with her swing.

[Anya]

They shouted and swarmed like ants. They cried and screamed at her because in the end, repeating the same old chants for blood and power? That was the only voice they could have. He knew she didn't hear any of it. They insulted her and stomped their feet, drooling for the taste of her blood. What did they think it would get them? Power? No - Azuhel's power was the only power. Despite her illusions, any power the ticks and dregs of Alteron might have wielded belonged to her and her alone. Did they think it would bring them distinction? Did they think someone would be impressed, that anyone would care in the end, that they had postured and snapped? That anyone would care to measure the amount of blood on their muzzle? No one would look, or remember their names - named after knives and poisons and monsters - half of them children. These people were stupid and boring and predictable and easily manipulated, because they were part of a crowd. 

Bread and circuses.

The desert wolf thought those thoughts and sat unmoving, staring dead at Azuhel with his silver eyes. The dragon had promised him that she would not hurt his daughter. He knew that a promise meant so very, very little. But he intended to hold Azuhel to it, regardless. 

Afzhal wasn't smiling.

----

"Anya" said her shadow. "Anya, I'm here." 

The Eye took a deep breath. She understood why Lynx was doing what she was doing, foolish as it was. If it had been Ajax before the screaming crowd, Anya would have done the same. Loyal men die for their commanders. And the commanders wear that burden like a cape made of lead. No she might have said to the panther as she approached. Do not fight for me. Protect yourself. But Anya had from the beginning been a military agent, and because she had been both commander and loyal man, she understood. 

A boy screamed at her, asked her who she thought she was. The little brown wolf knew who she was. She was vanguard to the Tarantula, all that time ago, killing strangers on the order of an empress. She was Bishop, adviser to the rightful King, come in a wave of glory to reclaim his kingdom. She was Consulate, picking up the ruins of a fallen Tower in the shadow of a bloodline. She was the silver Eye - soon to be burned blind to match the one on the Dragon's grinning face. She was the Keystone, the single small piece that the burden of pressure inevitably fell to. Anya didn't hurt children, or blame them for their foolishness. Oleander wasn't anyone yet. But he had filled in his body, he would be an adult wolf soon. She hoped for his sake he did not find himself atop a Tower, where so many would begin to imagine him falling. She didn't wish it on any of them. Anya had never wanted politics. She would have been happier as a soldier or scout, following orders rather than issuing them. More children began to scream, and some adults, too. 

More familiar faces. Lemieux, who still bore the scar across his muzzle. Cocytus, the Dragon's son. Anya had spoken with him about duty, before. Had tried to explain to him who she was, though she had never had many words. Umbra was there, one of the children whose lives she had spared. A girl of roses and dreams. Anya had hoped to get more time with her. To teach her so much. She supposed this would have to be lesson enough. 

Some few remained quiet. She locked eyes with Cuff, for a moment. Just as she had not blamed Lynx for being a soldier, she could not blame Cuff for being a mother. There was no choice, really. She looked away. 

Because there he was. The child that wasn't hers. Azuhel had thought she loved this handsome, eager, naive boy, and perhaps the dragon had loved him, in some way. But Azuhel had not for hours watched him breathe as he slept, small and helpless, in silent terror that his breath might be taken from her. She had not cleaned away the mud from his ears and feet as he learned to play, and played to learn. Azuhel had taught him fire, but she had not taught him quiet thoughts at the river's edge, or how to tell direction by what little sunlight filtered through the forest, or taught him the way through the footworn sentry paths. She had not listened to him whisper his questions to her, not with awe but with trust. Azuhel had not feared for the boy from the moment that strange crown graced his head. To Anya, Gideon was not just another child of dozens, a thing to grow in worship of its mother. Gideon was the only thing she had. 

Anya ached as he spat his prideful words. She'd taught him to be a prince and he spoke like it, though he no longer had the power of leadership to protect him. 

More shouts. They bled together in bright colors and nervousness, the individual words didn't matter. The dragon coos at them, playing politics, and even cold, quiet Anya cannot help but admire her in a way. They had worked well enough together, for a time. They had been fire and ice, they had been balanced scales of chaos and law. It had only been the two of them, who'd built all of this from the rubble. Together. They had worked hard, they had made it work. They had never been friends, but they had understood each other - both warriors, both queens, both mothers. Anya watched her as she spoke, as she burned. They were both beautiful and terrible. They had both suffered and they had both done what they deemed necessary. 

You could just step down. Anya thought to herself. She'd never wanted to rule, anyway. She'd never wanted this burden or this crown. She hadn't wanted to scar Lemieux. She hadn't wanted Gideon, thrust upon her like a reminder of all she'd lost, a tiny body plucked from the snow. She hadn't wanted all of this love. She could just step down and hand it all back.

But she had promised Ajax. 

One of the wolves in the crowd rose up with a snarl. Anya didn't know him, but he dove for Gideon. 

-------

The desert wolf rose to his feet. His silver gaze still remained fixed Azuhel, daring to demand with his expression. The Dragon knew what she had told him.  

Afzhal had always been good about falling in line when he needed. He liked Azuhel, always had, and would like to keep it that way. 

Get the girl out of the kingdom. He didn't bare his teeth, but Azuhel knew. Azuhel knew. 

-------

“Restrain the Keystone and the boy." She said. And then - "Don't maim the boy." 

A gift, in Azuhel's mind. Anya was no longer surprised at the vanity of empresses. Was that what Azuhel had thought of her all this time? A naive, blue-eyed fool? Anya held her sword with a steady hand, Anya did the things she said she'd do, it did not make her naive. A wolf was jumping and snapping at Gideon's face. The indignant teen leapt after Lynx. More and more piled on them, and Anya felt a hollow in her gut. Orcrist, who she had never liked or respected, swept after her. She knew his type - large men who wanted to shove around small women to feel more powerful. Perhaps he was angry, too, that she had at one point held more power than he ever would, despite his royal blood? All power is fleeting and ultimately self-defeating. If the former prince had paid attention to his mother's story, perhaps he would have learned that. It didn't matter to Anya. 

Orcrist was large, but Anya had been a child soldier when he was still growing fat and soft at Rapier's side. Anya wasn't strong, but she was nimble, and it didn't take much to move away from him in the din. (The Tarantula had watched her do the same, in battles past. Momentum meant nothing if you didn't have aim. His pound of her flesh denied by a single step.) 

"Anya - " She heard Lemieux's quiet voice like an echo in the din. Lemieux, she'd have said, if she hadn't had a horde at her throat and bile in her stomach and the taste of betrayal in her teeth. My friend, she'd have said. We've failed. 

Cuff's teeth landed across her muzzle unexpectedly. Blood immediately began to seep from the wound. Cold blue eyes met ember-red for a moment. There weren't words. The woman tore away from her friend (we all do what we must for our children.) Anya literally yanked her muzzle out of the other woman's grasp. 

In the end, it wasn't a wolf that would restrain the falling ruler. The bear came toppling down, its intentions totally unknown to the timber wolf, and absolutely buried her under fur and fat and muscle. His massive torso pinned her down, his huge claws scraped the dirt beside her, and she felt engulfed by the sheer size of him. Pinning her ears, she tried fruitlessly to squirm, managing only to shove her head free of him enough to glare, fuming at the dragon. 

Call them off, Azuhel. The girl's gaze said, though she was in no position to make demands. He's your son, too.

[Lynx]

(just an fyi, lynx was beside anya, not a distance away when all the commotion happened, so..)

'Traitor'- the only word uttered that struck the leopard, but not in such a way as to cause her to flinch. No, Lynx merely smiled- awkward as it may be, the cat rarely did it, but her teeth are bared towards Azuhel. Traitor, she hears again, but her own voice echoes the word.

But the truth was, Lynx had never belonged to Alteron, not even from the start.

She had been a mercenary once, she had simply been in Alteron, swallowed by the thickets and dying roots, she had shared the rank with someone else who was long gone, a name never spoken to her, but he'd hung around among the trees just like her, and kept to himself.. just like her. When he'd disappeared, she should have, too. It was a sign she'd ignored for her obsession to understand the wolves that surrounded her now. For the many days spent in trees listening to the silly little dramas created by the chattering teeth of dogs.

None of it was in vain, though, because she understands them now. And to understand them is to hate them.

ALL OF THEM.

Their persistent need to topple over the other, to sink their teeth and cruel words into someone's flesh, to twist and mangle and own one another.. They are savages, monsters, even the quiet ones who hide in the shadows. The ones who sit and say nothing, the ones who nestle into their mothers for some false sense of protection. They're as much to blame for this crumbling kingdom as the ones with blood on their hands. Their silence is their vote.

Gideon's arrival only served to stir the crowd more, and his demands- as if his voice was anything but background noise from the start- only caused the buzzing to grow. The leopard refocuses her guard to the boy, as he was Anya's, and by extension, she served him alongside his mother.

It was Warsaw's approach and his cold words that set Lynx's senses swirling. 'Your voice means nothing here, Keystone- he had said, 'Not any more,' he finished before diving for Gideon. She didn't have time to react, didn't have time to consider that no, in fact, Anya's voice had lost it's weight a long time ago. All Lynx knew was that she felt a surge of fury wash over her, take control, and send her flying forward toward the artificer, to land herself anywhere near his neck and shoulders (or face, but who knows what her aim truly was) and to rend and tear and rip away whatever she could.

She didn't hear the command from Azuhel to restrain Gideon and Anya, she could barely hear the roar emitted from her own jaws as she succumbed to anger (and isn't it funny, how much she'd had all along).

Before long, though, she is knocked away. Oleander- the loud, idiot son of the commandant and his ogre wife- had taken it upon himself to focus on her, and all she could think was good. Her reflexes- like a cat, who knew- allow her to recover quickly, to face him and bounce away, as if taunting him towards her, but even that doesn't last long.

Someone else finds themselves focused with her, or at least her species (did Lynx care? no, she had no love for them, either) and she is caught. She feels the teeth of some unknown Azuhel descendent biting for her side, and her only reaction is to allow them their purchase. But only so she could fall to the ground, coiling her body in the same fashion a cat does when you rub their belly. Her hind legs- powerful, and why wouldn't they be, for all the climbing she does- aim to repeatedly kick her feet (and those fun, fun claws) into Caesar, anywhere she could.

And her front legs? Just like a cat, again, she reaches forward to hold what she can, to sink her claws into any part of Caesar she could, and draw the wolf to her, all while her kicking continues. All while she tries to find some place for her own jaws to sink fangs into- for her to apply pressure, as leopard's do, and crush bone.

A part of her wished she'd begun to eradicate them one-by-one in the dark. It would've saved them this trouble of a coup.

But the other part reminds her: you are not like them.

You never were.

---

- lynx tries to bite warsaw before he can get to gideon (if she does, cool. if not, also cool)
- oleander knocks her away
- she recovers and proceeds to back up, cause hey, less folks on gideon and anya, the better, follow me kid
- caesar focuses on her too i guess so shes kind of taken aback by this newfound popularity
- not really haha she does let caesar get her side, but thats only cause shes doing that thing cats do
- you know when you rub their belly and you shouldnt, and they use their back legs to kick you while simultaneously holding your hand in place with their front paws/claws
- only caesar is the hand
- also shes trying to bite caesar anywhere she can and crush, preferably caesars head. cause thats what leopards do ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
( any questions, please direct them to my main account, thanks )

[Aspen]

There are no signs of the rest of them- to him, his siblings failed to show, despite lingering in the back and remaining to themselves, he did not see it. Aspen could only focus on the boy- Gideon, wasn't it?- who stood beside his mother and Lynx, who raised his head and wore his crown (was it even there, had it ever been?) for the world to see. The sentry admired that, felt a tugging string in his heart to go forward and help protect his peer, but he could not afford the carelessness the Headmaster could.

He was still young- like Gideon, right, Aspen?- and he still had so much to live for- LIKE GIDEON, RIGHT, ASPEN?- and his mother stood beside him. Cuff, his idol, the strongest wolf he'd ever known, stood beside him, assured him with just the softest touch that everything is okay.

And he believed her. He believed every hug and kiss and loving word she'd ever said to him- probably things like: You're a good son, Aspen- or the best thing he could imagine- I love you, and I'm proud of you- and he held them close to his heart. At one point, he was so proud of his mother he took her mantle and followed in her footsteps. I want to be like you is what he'd said, without saying.

I want to be just like you.

Until she surged forward.

Until she- his kind, loving, cautious mother- became a flurry of silver, a sword- no- he sees her now as a dagger, a knife, a serrated edge with the hilt sticking right out from Anya's back.

Aspen stands horrified, red eyes wide in disbelief that this- his mother, his guide, his reason- would not just betray her Queen, but his belief in her. He didn't understand, and would he ever? He was not a lonely mother with the word weighing on his shoulders, but he knew he couldn't contribute to the bloodbath unfolding before them.

They were all ordered to subdue the boy king and his mother queen, but he can't. He looks around, he tries desperately to find another familiar face who wasn't drooling and howling and JEERING at the very thought of a child's blood pouring across the dirt. He wondered if this is what Alteron was made of, if the soil beneath his feet was virgin and untouched by death, but he knows now, it isn't.

"Mama," he whispers just beneath his breath that he could barely hear it himself, and proceeds to back away in the middle of the rush, to conceal himself in the brush and make his way to the border, where things made sense. Where the world was black and white, yes and no, and not this shade of gray that looked so very much like red.

[Tarun]

[short Tarun doesn't have much to do and I am tired and realized today is the deadline. SORRY!]

C

rowned were the dragon and long may she reign. She didn't waste time and didn't pay attention to him, he whimpered by her feet - ignored and in defeat she ordered them all. Restrain, attack and hold. Tarun crumbled and turned to the chaos. Barely able to see the two that were being attacked he looks back at the dragon doubt taking over. Was this all there was to being a dragon then? Was the dragon so willing to ignore a willing subject by her feet? He snarled to himself and turned around.

He was confused and people were everywhere, he didn't see who but someone knocked into him in the chaos, words flew left and right and he snarled (mostly by himself not at anyone) and he tried to reach the middle of the chaos, obedient and loyal to his dragon, the monster standing above, breathing into his neck and smiling at the chaos, wanting to abide her rules and laws not really understanding right from wrong or even why he had to attack. But attack he did.

He finally found the woman, the brown and black one and he saw a bear ontop of her. He stood still for a moment and tried to decide how to obey - how to act how to -

DR-DRAGON! He had a headache now, too loud too much.

He tried to lock eyes with Anya, wondering what he was supposed to do with her and just like that he walked toward her, ignored by those around them, almost unseen in the battlefield, no one had taken note of him so far why would they now. He watched Anya and sat down in front of her face, tilt his brown confused head. "I don't understand." He spoke softly, carefully to Anya only. Don't understand why you are pinned, what you've done politics were lost on him.

Blodd wasn't. She was bleeding from her muzzle. He leaned over and licked her muzzle and said gently in the chaos "I am sorry." He opened his jaws and would try and clasp them around her throat, groaning - fighting - hating, HATING EVERY MOMENT

HE HATED HIMSELF.

He tried to kill her.

restrain

Words of the dragon... He closed his eyes for seconds while squeezing on her throat, thinking trying to remember what it meant.

to hold.

HOLD!

He stopped. Let go of her. Was it too late? He was shaking.