Saboro Ring 1  Act II [escape]
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Owl He/Him
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#1



Owl felt sick to his stomach. Each step was a tonne, sinking heavily into the saturated ground as he walked, pointedly, towards the outer ring. Truly, no part of him wanted to do this. Saboro was his home: born and bred. He recalled his childhood, a shining star, a prodigy, Saboro's finest and most loyal. He and Astoria had been the vanguard of Saboro's indoctrination. Coven had taught him fidelity, obedience. And yet here he was, a short-legged thing, on the border. He paused, hesitated, teetering on the scent line like a man teetering on the edge of a building. Jump, echoed his conscience.

This place was all he knew. He'd seen his mother, across the Ravine, face desperate and starved for affection. There was a world out there, but it was not a world for him. It belonged to something else, something entirely un-Saboran. Would he ever be more than that? A Saboran? A Shrike? Atlas had taught him ambition, egocentricity. He'd achieved all he'd ever wanted to achieve, in Saboro. He was content as a Shrike, but a burning curiosity in his belly, one that had been there since his conception, pushed him onward. He had to know. Why had they left? Where had they gone? Were they alive? Sleep evaded him, his nights instead filled with spiralling thoughts of confusion, frustration, betrayal. Only Bane remained. His father, his good, loving, omnipresent father. Bane, who had done nothing but good for him. His heart burned and his eyes stung at the thought of leaving him: they'd see each other again. Bane had taught him independence, individuality.

Surrounded by an impenetrable wall of self-absorbtion, he was doing this for himself. For his own peace of mind. The first Act was ending. The second lay only a page turn away. Exhaling the breath he'd been holding, he stepped over the border.

It wasn't the first time in his life he'd been outside Saboro. He'd made trips, of course. He'd been promised to a handsome young Tortugan. They hadn't seen each other in so long. But he wouldn't go to Tortuga - he couldn't - his story would not conclude there. There were answers that lay beyond the realm of his immediate knowledge, he sought them with gluttonous fervor. Reiss has taught him to follow his heart.

Then - a noise.

Owl's head whipped around, brilliantly orange eyes narrowing as they focused on the origin of a sound. Had he been followed? Was it a Sentry, whose scent he had missed? His muscles tensed, but he did his best to look relaxed, steady, steady, steaxy. He believed he was meant to be here: he would convince them, too. He gave a quiet inclination of his head, and spoke his faux-explanation with a calm, level voice. There was no hint of hesitance. He was a Shrike. Who would even consider him a traitor? Nero had taught him to be a liar.

"I am required on a sensitive mission, in foreign land. Let me pass."


i know i'll wither
so peel away the bark
because nothing grows
when it is dark


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Artemisia She/Her
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#2






[Image: arttitle_by_lunecy-dbohv48.png]
The headache blossomed into something more, a pain she could hardly tolerate, but Artemisia kept walking through the jungle. The gash on her forehead had stopped bleeding at this point, the clot scabbing to keep her skull in tact for the most part. The Hawkeye wandered through, occasionally calling her sister's name, though never gaining an answer. Where are you Oriana?

She had to find her, had to know if her Sabora had lived through the terrifying ordeal. Artemisia had struggled herself, the injuries requiring some attention, and she attended to them the only way she knew how: to tough through it. Artemisia hardly noticed either that she was so close to the border, and she wondered if something happened, or if she was truly confused. Flashbacks of Knife fluttered around her aching mind before she found herself next to a boy she had met briefly in some circumstances. A nephew.

"I'm to go with him." she said, her own voice sounding distant as if she were sucked into a void and seeing through different eyes. Would the border guards trust a tattooed wolf? After all, she had to go find the Sabora, and she would make the boy help her.

✦ ✦ Speech Text ✦ ✦
[Image: a1e3ef6ac4a15e56768d8efd6c0a14e7-d5h3d5t.gif]





Pull my heart out of my chest
Train my mind so I forget
Sink your teeth into my bones
Dig me out then fill the hole

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Bane He/Him/His
Saboro
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Rank [IC]: Sabora | Right WIng | Tracker
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#3
(This post was last modified: December 21, 2017, 11:18:32 AM by Bane.)


[Image: barn_owl_1_by_starstruckdoodles-dbuuo2g.png]

Owls hatch from their little eggs and are dependent on their parent. When their needs are met they grow strong, over time they learn, and soon the soft pin feathers molt away or are plucked off by eager beaks. Beneath those are the feathers of a beautiful bird and the means for that child to further develop. What comes after they leave the nest? For a time, they hover around the same area, broadening their minds. Sifting through that endless sea of knowledge. The only home they’ve ever know has expanded and in exploring it so do they. Then, they see and do everything, some chicks seek out more within the same wood, but not all…For there would be a lot more of them seen hovering on branches or soaring through the sky if all of them opted to stay close to their birthplace.

He paid Artemisa little mind it seemed (although he does acknowledge that the younger wolf is there) as he stepped towards the pair on the border. “Sensitive mission…” He repeated rolling the word off his tongue as if he didn’t quite know what it meant. Would Crenate be so secretive as to send Bane’s own child away in this manner, without a word to his Elite, or the temporary Sabora on hand? No, that's how mistakes happen. Bane sighed through his nostrils, knowing full well that the gray male was not that sort of leader. That he would not compromise his boy's safety in such a way or wound his right-hand man in that manner.

However, within a good lie, there is truth embedded.

“I am required…”

He’s sure of that part. He can sense the conviction. It's as surely in his son as it’d been in him when that feeling boiled in his blood and pushed him through the rings to protect the young man. He did not doubt that this was something necessary in the other wolf's mind, even if he was certain that the tale was conjured up. If it’d been anyone else but Owl’s own Father maybe, but Bane’s teeth clicked together as he eyed the lad knowingly. “And this is something you have to do, right, Son?” Therein lies the difference Bane thinks, between his children and the rest of saboro. With them, Bane possesses some understanding and more than that he feels pride.

He...doesn’t want his boy to go, and feels the tension in his muscles urging him to grab at the boy, and pull him back by the ear. Bane doesn't want to hurt him or even entertain doing so, but if Owl wants to leave he’ll have to fight for it like everyone else...Yet, he also knew that the boy already knew that, had grown up knowing that his Father could change some things about himself no more than what he’d already managed to do. Bane would never just let someone walk. Even with Hecate, his sister was offered a deal but paid a hefty price. Surely this child did this knowing the consequences, but he fearlessly stood in front of his Father anyway. It would be selfish of Bane to demand Owl to change, and in fact, for once he is not being ruled by said greed, that’s not what he wanted.

He felt pride knowing Owl was willing to take his freedom and make his own way. There was no measuring the amount.

Oh...He felt something pull in his chest. The whole area felt tight like a large stone had been dropped on top of it. He didn't want him to go. Didn't like the way it felt like he was about to push his son out of the nest. Out of his life. Nevertheless, he remained resolute. A fleeting look into those honeyed orbs, softer than anything most people would ever receive, that hopefully, told Owl all he needed to know.  

They were Father and Son. Their bond forever lasting. Blood could only clot and become a messy mass. It could not and could never bind itself together as tightly or as magnificently as what they shared. Theirs was a glittering thing. A good thing. So it never mattered to Bane that this boy was sired by another. It never would.

Where the situation different he'd have aimed to peck his child lovingly on the cheek for the first time since finding out that his touch did not make Owl retract in fear. As it was though, perhaps that would have to wait for another time, or perhaps it was just as well that it could not happen here. With his boyhood now well and truly over, maybe he was too old for such a display of affection.

Bane chuckled at the thought, 'They never quite stop being your baby.' Even when they'd always seemed to be grown well beyond their years.

He briefly acknowledged anyone else who'd strolled in, making his move regardless. "I suppose you best make haste then." He waited for their backs to turn (assuming they did that), for his son to set foot away from the invisible line. Then he set on after the smaller wolf. Aiming, not to kiss their brow as he'd wanted to do, but to come up beside them, on a side which Artemisia did not flank, and snap at his shaggy scruff. Attempting to grab hold and yank the younger wolf back mid-run.

Owl was a man.

He'd take what he wanted even if it meant challenging his old man.

Bane wouldn't have this playout any differently, and should it come to pass, he would still be the proudest father in the Dire Straits or beyond it.



Notes:

SInce these rules are fresh out the oven I'm linking them here as well (real talk, why does the spoiler tag suck?). Just so nobody has to go digging: https://dires.net/thread-2264.html
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maven he/him
Saboro
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#4
(This post was last modified: December 21, 2017, 05:39:34 PM by maven.)

                                                                     He is looking for Lux. To report to, to acquire further instructions. To talk, perhaps.

But it was a different child of Coven that he found.

Maven stopped in his tracks, a ghost in this meeting of family. Red eyes took in the scene rather quickly - the first ring at the border, the Sabora opposite two others, one tattooed. An elite.


The mounting tension was suffocating, so thick he felt as though he could bite it with his teeth. This was not something he was supposed to see, not something that Maven was supposed to be present for. Neither, he assumed, was anyone else. But he did not move from his spot, a quiet watcher removed from the equation amongst the shrubbery, a phantom lingering. Nosey and curious, really.

‘I suppose you best make haste then.’

Released.

But not really. The feeling of waiting still hung in the air, teetering on the edge of a knife, and he tilted his head to quietly get his bangs out of both eyes so he could watch. There was something off and it irritated him that he couldn’t quite place what it was. Something not right.

Maven does not react immediately, as they turn to leave and the Sabora lunges towards the smaller male. He does not react as the teeth move to grab at the scruff and pull the male backwards. Maven is quiet in those few seconds, watching, a slowly dawning sense of ‘oh, I get it now’.

It is only when a move is made against Bane that Maven moves. He was always meant to play defense - against Croatoan, against Nereid, against Luxanna, against the whole world to protect a single life - and the lithe body will surge into the fight, young limbs strong with purpose, and move to intercept whatever retaliation might take place. Should it be Owl’s own snapping teeth, he’ll throw his body towards his head, aiming to push it down and out of reach of Bane, with the simultaneous intent to give Bane more leverage to grab hold.

He was quick enough to gather two things. First, these two were trying to escape, though anyone with brains would have done it during the stampede, as so many others had. The Sabora wanted to stop them. Second, Bane did not want to hurt them in his attempt to stop them, for whatever reason.

With a grin behind his eyes, he knew Mother Dearest would have been disappointed if he couldn’t do such a simple thing. So he would do his best to acquiesce to both.




[ooc: let me know if I need to change anything! basically, maven will only react/interact should someone make a move against bane which, assuming owl does, he will attempt to push his face out of range of bane so owl can't bite him.

let me know if I need to change anything!]
                                                                     


[Image: tumblr_nywx3ss3we1qmxyzyo1_540_by_kikiho...bdbzin.png]
was the use of force necessary in completing your objectives
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Blackwall He/Him
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#5

Arid wind from the Outside swept into Saboro, dry and dusty against the jungle’s wet heat. It kicked the grass up into a furious dance, his fur following suit as it swayed against those invisible fingers running through it. Weary red-yellow eyes roamed from beyond the border to ahead, paws carrying him ever forward as they left depressions in the earth; his weight making him sink against the semi-wet soil. The damp breeze stirred up the red poppy field and wafted in the air, masking his scent as he continued. Just another cog in Saboro’s grand machine.

His ears suddenly pricked up and swiveled. His eyes followed the motion, and not too far ahead he saw a man. He watched as those pale paws sunk heavy against the ground, how the foliage tried desperately to hold onto him. No, Good Son, do not go into the Darkest Night where I cannot follow!

Not that Blackwall would know.

All he saw was a man…

...An easily spooked man from how quickly he turned.

"I am required on a sensitive mission, in foreign land. Let me pass."

The old warlord stopped in his tracks, lifting his head and adjusting his stance against the quiet but commanding figure before him. Red-yellow eyes bored into the sharp gold as Blackwall loomed, head tilting gently to the side as he opened his mouth to speak. Before he could, however, a woman suddenly appeared. "I'm to go with him." He recognized her immediately: Artemisia, the Sabor’s best friend. Memories of Crenate’s coronation stirred within his mind as his eyes fell upon the unique tattoos upon her brow; friendly eyes finding hers as Crenate smiled at the scarred wolf, raising her from the ashes of her folly.

She wouldn’t be where she was without their Sabor’s favor.

Odd to find her- hm?

“Sabora,” Blackwall rumbled as Bane approached, nodding respectfully at the heavily scarred wolf.

“And this is something you have to do, right, Son? I suppose you best make haste then."

A quiet tension filled the air, but Bane destroyed it with a gunshot as he bolted; paws tearing up the earth and teeth aimed for the pale man’s scruff. Maven appeared from the sidelines, all bright and quick (a light burst of pride blooming in the bulwark’s chest, noticing that good footwork). So that left only one for him.

The Girl with the Red Tattoos.

The Girl Who was Given Everything.

Thank God she wanted to escape, that she wanted to try and worm her way through the exit, because this put her in close quarters. Better for him, potentially fatal for her. He charged and moved to slam his skull right into the partially healed cut upon her brow. If he was successful, he’d make her see stars before turning and slamming his body into hers (not waiting to see if the headbutt worked). An almost three hundred pound pain train right in her ribs, before the bulwark turned his head for her back. If he could, if she was stunned, even if she wasn’t, Blackwall would bite down on her spine with all of his might.

He’d crush her with his teeth. He’d break her back and render her helpless. Then he’d drag her back, kicking and screaming, to the man she called friend. Throw her at Crenate’s feet, and expose the wretch for what she truly was: a liar.

“You’re not worth your weight in salt!” Blackwall snarled as he continued his merciless assault. If he couldn’t get her spine, then he’d go for that scruff. He’d go to pull her down and pin her with his weight.

Blackwall fought the Raven. He didn’t win, but they survived the blows and grew from the battle.

What was she, compared to that?

Nothing.


[Image: sefvP2x.png]
Note: Blackwall is an exhausted, tired man.
If you have any concerns, please PM my main account Ceraphena.
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Kujo she/her
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#6

The initial three day deadline is complete! No more pursuers are allowed to join this thread and the escape is under way. The escapees and the pursuers are grouped into rounds and each have three days to respond, for a total of three rounds including this one. Rounds are finished when all characters in that round post, or are time defaulted. If a deadline is missed your character automatically is captured/can no longer give chase (though we'll try to be flexible if you miss a deadline by a little bit, just talk to us).

Since it's the holidays, Christmas Eve and Christmas Day will not be counted toward deadlines. If we need to, New Years Eve/Day will also be excluded. Good luck!


I'm still waiting for you,
to come back.
From Rome, Rome, Rome,

FROM THE ASHES OF ROME

I. BI-N II. ART III. COMMS IV. CODES
Tell me it's over,
tell me it won't linger.

ATTILA
GREGORY
GOTHAM
MELEK TAUS
NERO
ODYSSEY
POMPILIUS
RORSCHACH
SOLOMON
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Owl He/Him
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Rank [IC]: ex-shrike filthy traitor
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#7
(This post was last modified: December 23, 2017, 05:29:51 PM by Owl.)



The figure in the bushes revealed themselves to be none other than Artemisia - the Hawkeye. Owl raised a brow. What was she doing so close to the borders? His muscles tensed, readying himself for the potential onslaught - would she call his bluff? Surely, she'd know? Instead, though, she spoke, a level but soulless voice. I'm to go with him. The Shrike blinked, rather disbelieving, and momentarily floored. A million scenarios ran through his head. Perhaps she actually had a mission abroad. Or was she, by some curious turn of events, threatening to escape with him?

Fortunately, or perhaps not, he hadn't long to wait for an answer. From the undergrowth sprang another figure, a much more imposing one and one that had the potential to be far more of an obstacle. His own father. Owl's eyes widened in shock, fear, momentary regret. Of all the people he'd expected to see, Bane had not been one of them, and immediate distress erupted in his heart. His face remained stoic, unreadable. He listened to the Right Wing - Sabora? - pick apart his words, like a coroner through an autopsy. The gaze was not missed, and for a moment, it was held - father to son - and Owl felt the weight of the world come crashing down onto his narrow shoulders. Leaving Saboro meant leaving it all: what was left of his small family, his friends, and most of all his father. Desperately, he tried to convince himself that this was not a betrayal, moreover a decision made for himself. Saboro could not conclude his story. Saboro would not give him answers. But Saboro, Bane, had never done him wrong.

He turned, but was rightfully careful in the motion. Bane was not a traitor. He had never been known to let a fugitive run free. And, as expected, he had barely taken a step away from the border when the flash of dark fur signified Bane's attack. Owl slipped back, but not swiftly enough to avoid the attack - the father was a seaoned fighter, the son most certainly was not. The teeth tore into the nape of his neck, into the loose skin that remained with them all, a remnant of childhood yore, though poorly innervated (to his luck). For a moment, he was trapped, hardly able to prevent the attack by what was a much larger, much stronger wolf. He felt himself beginning to be dragged, paws struggling against the wet ground. As he struggled, he saw the others incoming.

A Spectre, along with Blackwall, the enormous Harpy. Maven remained behind, as though awaiting instruction or acting as a ready reinforcement, but Blackwall had no such patience. The navy beast ploughed towards Artemisia. Owl would not let it happen - without that girl, he was surely doomed. He had no chance of escaping the jaws of three capable wolves alone, but with the well-trained Hawkeye, he might just have the brute force he needed.

Finding his footing and digging in the heels of his hind legs, he would attempt to prevent himself from being pulled any further. Then, with a tremendous amount of force and self-control, he ripped forward, attempting to tear himself away from his father's greedy jaws. Undoubtedly, a chunk of fur and fresh red meat would be left behind - a pound of flesh for Shylock.

After breaking free, he'd set his mark on Blackwall. There was no hope of physically beating the brute in fair combat, but Owl had no intentions of that. Instead, his aim was to simply draw him from Artemisia. As Blackwall charged, Owl would too, throwing his entirely bodyweight haphazardly towards the Harpy's side. Despite his size, Owl was nevertheless a fully-grown dire wolf, and one hundred pounds of muscle slamming into the brute would hopefully dislodge his aim enough for Artemisia to dodge the initial attack, and perhaps the blow to the ribs that would inevitably otherwise follow it. If he was successful, or even if he wasn't, he would swiftly scurry away as quickly as his nimble legs allowed, and he would bark to the Hawkeye.

"Just go!"

They would not win this fight. But perhaps they could outrun it.

SOME OOC NOTES:
- Bane grabs Owl, pulls him a short distance back, before Owl rips out of his teeth (I have Imp's OOC permisison to have him break free).
- Owl attempts to crash into Blackwall and throw him off-course, then flees.

I'm away from home from the 24th to the 28th (back the evening of the 28th) so hopefully it won't come back around to my turn before then. If it does, I won't be able to post at all during those days. Hope that's okay?


i know i'll wither
so peel away the bark
because nothing grows
when it is dark


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Artemisia She/Her
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#8






[Image: arttitle_by_lunecy-dbohv48.png]
Of all the people in Saboro, Bane was the one who approached, softly asking of his son if this was the right choice. Artemisia was much too tired and hurt to care, her heart was what yearned for freedom only by trying to find her sister, the only one who held the Hawkeye's trust by the teeth. It hurt, it always did, and although she knew how this game played, she had to pull herself back into her body and firmly plant her feet on the ground. Red eyes gazed at the Wing for only a brief moment before seizing her chance right then and there, claws scoring the Earth and sending dirt in his direction as she did. Owl tore off as well, but teeth held him back.

She glanced behind, hesitating for only a moment before rounding a tree in which she passed, watching as the boy wiggled himself free. He aimed for the massive black wolf that barreled after the Hawkeye, and she knew that this was the moment she had to focus. She couldn't worry about Owl now, this was his test after all, to fight his own way out and she had to do the same for herself. Artemisia felt the fire burn within her chest, knowing she could escape, knowing she had to prove herself better than her dead sister, that she had earned her tattoos rightfully for being the Sabor's best. So, again, she dug her feet into the ground and ran.

And as Blackwall rounded to bite her spine, Artemisia swerved against another tree, his teeth scoring her back but not grabbing a hold. Her momentum made her fly forward, blood splattering against the tree as her tail tucked beneath her. The Hawkeye let out a small roar of determination, jumping over a set of double roots, barely catching her balance before she set off between trees, winding through them like a snake to out wit her foes, taking turns sharply and to take turns unexpectedly by taking random chances — left, left, right, straight, left, right, right, left. She had known the jungle all of her life, had explored every part of the lower rings when she had been cast out, and she knew that if she was caught, her skull would be resting next to the rest to warn the outside.

How ironic fate could be.

✦ ✦ Speech Text ✦ ✦
[Image: a1e3ef6ac4a15e56768d8efd6c0a14e7-d5h3d5t.gif]

- Took off before Owl to get a head start, too fast for Blackwall to head-butt her
- Whether or not Owl was successful of throwing Blackwall off, Artemisia is hit on her lower back by his teeth, but her momentum doesn't let him get a firm hold.
- She is weaving between trees, using the terrain to her advantage





Pull my heart out of my chest
Train my mind so I forget
Sink your teeth into my bones
Dig me out then fill the hole

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Bane He/Him/His
Saboro
Saboro
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Rank [IC]: Sabora | Right WIng | Tracker
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#9
(This post was last modified: December 25, 2017, 02:34:49 PM by Bane.)


[Image: barn_owl_1_by_starstruckdoodles-dbuuo2g.png]

Rinse and repeat. No matter what the Wing felt inside his heart the flow of the motion came all too naturally. Legs of a tracker, muscles that were built up and strengthened since the days of his youth, propelled him towards his son with ease. His speed was only hindered by the fresh injuries he’d acquired protecting said offspring, but even then, Bane worked through the pain as he’d been brought up to do. It remained, as always, an afterthought as his jaws parted and shut down upon Owl’s nape.

The teeth pressed in. Past fur, past the skin, past everything he’d grown accustomed to with this child. His pup who would not be touched. Who hated having his space infringed upon, and who Bane respected enough to not cause him the discomfort. This was the second time he’d gone against that now, and this moment meant nothing less than the first.

He pulled Owl, almost desperately...No, not almost. Honestly, a part of Bane wanted to drag the determined young man back. Back where he belonged. Where Father knew best and could see to it that his child stayed alive and safe. Of course...Bane knew he'd never been the determining factor for such things, but still, it was his duty, his pledge...Much as he knew it was a faulty hope Bane would promise it, again and again, meaning it each time.

Couldn't he stay? 'You don't have to leave.' A small voice urged in Bane's head as the brown canine gave a forceful yank back towards the jungle. 'Don't go where I can't look after you.' Claws dug into the earth creating deep gashes in the soil. 'Where I don't know where you are.' How he tugged, oblivious to how Owl was pulling as well. 'How am I meant to...'

Look after you?

Maybe that's where the question would've gone if he'd the time to work it out, but realization is there instead, slapping him back towards a solemn reality.

Does he need you to do that, Bane?

As if struck, his neck and head popped back, a clump of sopping flesh and fur fixed between his jaws. That bit of his bo-...that bit of Owl, weeping blood across his tongue. He'd never tasted something so tart. He recoiled as though he were hurt and spat the mass out as Owl already began barreling towards the much larger contender, Blackwall.

He wasn't a pup anymore. Seemed he'd have to keep reminding himself. But with that in mind, perhaps Bane could truly shake the need to try and lead him along. Not likely, but he could swallow the desire down. He could do that for him. So he regained that battle ready composure and moved ahead, next attempt a bid to sail his body straight into the lad's retreating form as he moved to get away from the Harpy. Hopefully forcing his son to collide with him as he snapped at anything while in the process of trying to throw them both to the ground.


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Blackwall He/Him
Saboro
Saboro
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#10
(This post was last modified: December 28, 2017, 05:23:59 PM by Blackwall.)

“We do not culture the weak.”

Yes, you do.

Look at Aster, the daughter of a Saborako.

Look at Owl, the son of the Second in Command.

Look at Artemisia, the Sabor’s Right Hand.

The accumulation of watered down lines and corrupted genes among the Red Society’s royalty and elites sickened him. They were infected, riddled with rot and these were the results: feeble minded creatures that cried for freedom. What was freedom, but the false idea that you’re your own person without laws to chain you down? All freedom brings is a stretch, and a greater chance to die old, alone, and done for. They tried, and today they would die.

It’s the Harpy’s duty to decide which family lines continue to grow. The previous Vulture, whoever they were, failed because these weaklings festered.

Look where we are now. This could have been solved before the problem had a chance to form.

Owl slammed into his side, Bane right on the young man’s heels, and Blackwall retaliated. His blow to Artemisia’s spine ruined (raked instead of destroyed, the crunch of her bones denied by a simple move), he’d turn his fangs upon the green wolf’s face. Let those teeth rip into those ears, that brow, whatever part of the young man’s upper skull he could reach. He didn’t stop though. Precious momentum lost by inches, but it’s enough for the rabbit to get a head start. She’s wise to weave and wind her way through the trees, thinking he wouldn’t be able to trace her.

She’s wrong.

She’s not the only one to live on the Red Society’s outskirts.

Blackwall followed her step for step, keeping his strength in the tank for now as his eyes keep track of her. She’s desperate, running wild, expending a lot of energy just to keep out of his reach. That’s okay, because she’s coming up on what he’d been waiting for. He charged forward, turning his body at the last moment and slammed his body into an old, dead tree. Its wide, brittle trunk snapped with the violent strike against its side, and then it groaned. Teetered, and began to fall. Down, down, down, toward the zig-zagging trail Artemisia ran along.

The tree hit the ground hard, sending shrapnel every which way as it made the ground shake with its collapse.
The dust didn’t have time to settle before Blackwall’s there, using the distraction to his advantage. He descended upon her mercilessly, echoing her determination with a wordless roar of his own. It dripped with scorn as he threw his entire body weight into her slightly smaller frame, bellowing, ”CHARLATAN!” He went straight for her tattoos. He moved to tear them from her face: ruin them, her eyes, her ears, her jaws and throat. It didn’t matter if she skittered back or bit him in return. He was here to remind her that once again, she’s worthless.

She’s not the Sabor’s best. If anything, right now, she is his biggest regret.

If he couldn’t remove those tattoos, he would make sure that her face would be unrecognizable.

“Who is she?”

“Who knows?”

“Who cares.”

“Just another wolf wandering the wastes. Let’s go, son.”


He went for her neck, pressing on with the offensive as he went to grab any ounce of flesh he could; trying to drag her to the ground. She was wily though, and if she ran? He’d make damn sure his teeth ripped through every inch of skin that passed under them; creating scores of scars along her shoulders, sides, and haunches. Her tail was safe from his wrath considering she was semi-intelligent, keeping it tucked between her legs. Blackwall wanted to remind her, every day, that this was her day of destruction.

He wanted to destroy her, as she destroyed the friendship she worked so hard for. And for what?

Why throw it all away?

Why?

She had the King’s ear within her grasp. She could be the power behind the throne, but no.

Artemisia chose to become a traitor, and she’d be branded as such.

-Owl hits Blackwall, making him stumble and slow down
-Blackwall replies by trying to bite anywhere on Owl's face
-Pursues Artemisia
-Lags behind, then sprints/body slams a very old but tall tree
-Tree breaks/falls
-Uses left over momentum/the distraction of the tree to assault Artemisia
-Goes for her face and new tattoos
-If she runs he digs his teeth into her body, allowing her to decide how much damage she wants to take


[Image: sefvP2x.png]
Note: Blackwall is an exhausted, tired man.
If you have any concerns, please PM my main account Ceraphena.
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maven he/him
Saboro
Saboro
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#11

                                                                     •  Owl rips away from Bane before Maven can intercede, and seeing him make a move for Blackwall, he zig zags back behind Bane to intercede once again, hopefully knocking him off balance for the Sabora.
•  Aims to full body lunge towards Owl’s head and knock it back or to the ground, really trying to disorient him.
•  Blackwell charges forward towards Artemisa and, using his continuing momentum from his attempt to shove Owl’s face, continues on behind him, pursuing Art through the trees as Blackwall detours.
•  His smaller, leaner frame helps him catch up slightly, and he’s close enough to nip at her heels when she jumps, legs kicking out and catching his face, nails scoring along one eye and giving his head a nice rattle.
•  Temporarily blinded, Maven stutters to a halt and swerves. Disoriented and unable to see, he is unable to move in time to avoid the tree Blackwall fell. Limbs catch his back end, crushing his back legs to the ground, and he lets out a brief, high pitched scream of pain before falling silent.
•  He remains silent, so as not to distract Bane and Blackwell from their continued pursuits, and quietly focuses on remaining calm and figuring out his situation in regards to his injuries from Art and attempting to escape from under the tree aka what the fuck just happened.




[ooc: and, for now, maven is out! here is a brief kinda run down of attempts/injuries

tries to unbalance owl once again (potentially taking blackwalls attack to owls face - owl may be disoriented and off kilter temporarily)
he is kicked in the face pursuing art (his face is cut up by her nails and he receives a minor concussion - he leaves potential bites/nips on her heels)
he is caught in the damage of the tree blackwall fell when blinded by blood/disoriented. his back end is stuck beneath the tree. (i haven’t decided if it’s any serious damage yet, but he is stuck and will definitely be feeling it for a few days)

lemme know if any of this needs clarification. sorry again for the hold up!]
                                                                     


[Image: tumblr_nywx3ss3we1qmxyzyo1_540_by_kikiho...bdbzin.png]
was the use of force necessary in completing your objectives
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Kujo she/her
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#12

OOC condensed!

(December 28, 2017, 05:10:18 PM)Kujo Wrote: Nope! Maven has missed the deadline and thus is unable to pursue. Blackwall gets to respond, since the pursuers aren't treated as a group and don't all get penalized if one misses the deadline. Sorry if that wasn't clear! Blackwall has another day to reply.

(December 28, 2017, 09:57:00 PM)Nova Wrote: [ooc: i haven't been online because of work, today is my first day off. I thought there was some lenience because of the holiday season, and wasn't aware of when my deadline was up. i'd still like to post, with that in mind, but i won't argue it him continuing, tho i would at least like to post how he gets taken out of it, if that's alright with everyone.]


actually, yeah , i'm really confused on when exactly the deadline is
if it's 3 days per group (pursuers and pursued) then both cera and I would have missed the deadline
but if its 3 days per person since the last person posted, my last day to post would be today, the 28th
again, I'm not trying to argue any sort of point but I'm incredibly confused and would appreciate some clarification

okay actually hang on again i just keep noticing
christmas wasn't counted towards the deadline, but imp posted on christmas
but if we aren't counting it, the post would have been considered posted on the 26th which, giving me 3 days, my deadline is tomorrow, the 29th
so yeah im super confused


thisi is my ramblings gonna put this in a message

(December 29, 2017, 01:07:35 AM)Kujo Wrote: The deadline was three days from December 23rd, with an extra two days to make up for the holidays. I do see that the deadline was mistakenly considered to be around 1pm EST instead of 8pm (the difference between Owl’s post and Art’s post, deadlines begin when the last round ends), but Alphas were not contacted about extensions on the timeline and thus the default was given when escapees inquired about the status of the round.

Ceraphena could not post due to respecting the post order, and thus doesn’t also default. I definitely didn’t make it clear enough that escapees and pursuers cannot group default due to being unable to post before someone in a posting order, Sorry about that! I thought dropping the post prder completely would be a bit messy and confusing for everyone. If anyone has any questions about that please let me know!

As for the default, it stands unless the escapees are willing to consider an extension.moving forward, iIf you’re not going to be able to post on the last day of any deadline, especially already extended ones, please let Alphas know so we can give the other side a heads up. Deadlines are more punishing for pursuers, though.

(December 29, 2017, 02:10:31 AM)Nova Wrote: okay, thanks for clearing it up. I wasn't aware of a posting order, nor when exactly the deadline was, considering how christmas came into affect, and how the treatment varies in regards to pursuers vs a group. Sorry if I'm not super coherent.

I can get up some bullet points real quick so I don't hold it up any further, if those are acceptable.

(December 29, 2017, 02:21:26 AM)Kujo Wrote: I can ask both escapees if they’re willing to give you a little leeway! You can absolutely prepare some bullet points to explain a default in the mean time and I’ll shoot them both a quick discord message. Sorry for the confusion, I’ll definitely make sure to be as explicit as possible with how deadlines work so everyone is on the same page going forward.

Because I’m asking the escapees about a possible 24 hr extension, their time limit for their final round is PAUSED and will not resume until I hear back from people. I’ll post promptly with a decision and the new deadline!


I'm still waiting for you,
to come back.
From Rome, Rome, Rome,

FROM THE ASHES OF ROME

I. BI-N II. ART III. COMMS IV. CODES
Tell me it's over,
tell me it won't linger.

ATTILA
GREGORY
GOTHAM
MELEK TAUS
NERO
ODYSSEY
POMPILIUS
RORSCHACH
SOLOMON
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Kujo she/her
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#13

OK. Got in contact with everyone so the last round has officially begun. Maven has defaulted and is ICly unable to continue pursuit of escapees. The normal deadline of three days will be extended to five once again in this round due to New Year's Eve & Day. Therefore, the deadline will be January 3rd, 3:10AM EST. The last round for pursuers will begin afterward.

To clarify: the rounds are in groups and all need post within the same deadline, however characters aren't judged in groups. Post order is to be respected, but if someone before you in the post order time defaults that doesn't automatically time default everyone else in the round after them. For example, if Owl defaults, Artemisia still gets time to post to avoid capture. If a character time defaults, any character(s) who needs to post after them has 1 extra day to do so. An alpha will post after every round to update with any defaults/drop outs and will post a clear and exact deadline so everyone is on the same page.

This is the last post for everyone! Good luck!


I'm still waiting for you,
to come back.
From Rome, Rome, Rome,

FROM THE ASHES OF ROME

I. BI-N II. ART III. COMMS IV. CODES
Tell me it's over,
tell me it won't linger.

ATTILA
GREGORY
GOTHAM
MELEK TAUS
NERO
ODYSSEY
POMPILIUS
RORSCHACH
SOLOMON
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Owl He/Him
I'LL WITHER
Nomad
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Pronouns: He/Him
Rank [IC]: ex-shrike filthy traitor
Played By: Wormwood















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#14



Bane was on his heels immediately, barely letting him get ahead before slamming back into his hind legs. It occured almost in synchronisation with Maven's attack, which came from the other side. The force of both toppled the younger male, as was most likely his father's intention, sending him spinning head-over-heels through the air and landing ungracefully, but at least on his feet. He felt one of his forelegs sprained by the effort of an uneasy landing, but nimble and light enough was Owl that he was able to find his footing during the flurry and confusion of the collision, pushing off with his hind legs instead to relieve pressure on his fatigued forelegs.

He stumbled through the dirt, only to be met directly by the enormous, gaping fangs of Blackwall. There was a flash of red, a burning sensation of pain - but he was still moving. The attack had caught him under his right eye, tearing across his upper cheek and towards his ear. The attack would scar, but he was fortunate enough to have avoided blindness. If Maven hadn't knocked the younger male off-kilter, and in the process, out of Blackwall's way, he might've lost the eye.

The brute seemed to refocus his attention on Artemisia, and Owl took the opportunity to put more distance between himself and the three men pursuing him. Behind him, he heard something fall and shatter (a tree?) and saw the splinters as they exploded past him. Keeping his eyes on the horizon, he pushed his body harder, forcing his legs into a sprint. Chest and heart working madly, he felt bile rising to his throat. Keep going.

He wouldn't look back, but he knew part of him would remain, forever, in the Jungle. He and his father would watch the same stars, be warmed by the same sun. It wasn't goodbye.

- Maven and Blackwall lunge for Owl as Bane attempts to slam him.
- Maven and Bane's knocks both hit target, which topples Owl and pushes him out of Blackwall's direct line-of-attack, as stated in Nova's post.
- Owl's face gets a passing glimpse of Blackwall's teeth, and his cheek is torn.
- Owl finds his footing during this four-wolf-collision and legs it like there's no tomorrow bye artemisiAaaaa.
- I think I interpreted all attacks correctly, let me know if anything doesn't make sense.


i know i'll wither
so peel away the bark
because nothing grows
when it is dark


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Artemisia She/Her
WILD FIRE
Nomad
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Posts: 7
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Played By: Gothy















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#15
(This post was last modified: December 30, 2017, 03:17:10 PM by Artemisia.)






[Image: arttitle_by_lunecy-dbohv48.png]
The massive tank flew after her, winding around the trees as much as she did, gliding past gnarled roots, but the girl was already yards ahead, galloping as her life depended on this fleeting moment. Heart fluttered, oozed with burning desire, that furnace of hers smouldering and fueling her forward. His attack on Owl should have slowed him down further, an opportunity she took wisely, running straight instead of weaving through, listening as growls and grunts seemed so distant, yet she knew they were on her heels. She could barely feel the teeth nipping as they gained their traction.

As Artemisia jumped over a pile of roots, her nails caught the eye of Maven who had been so close to catching her. There was a sick crack of splintering wood as the tank Blackwall shoved a rotten tree down, trying to stop her, but she knew better than to run vertical, and instead veered to the side where the tree caught the unfortunate spectre instead. As he lay under, the Hawkeye took her chance to run after Owl, feeling a few splintering shrapnel catch her legs, but she didn't care. The adrenaline that coursed her veins masked the burning and itching pain. There would be time to tend to her wounds if she ever got far enough away. Blackwall surely had staggered his time trying to shove the tree down, enough again for her to gain momentum and ground.

For good measure she would weave, determined to lose him once again, nearly colliding with Owl before she ran by his side. They were almost out, almost within reach of freedom.

The trickle of red laid behind her.

✦ ✦ Speech Text ✦ ✦
[Image: a1e3ef6ac4a15e56768d8efd6c0a14e7-d5h3d5t.gif]

edit;;
oops forgot to do bullet points

- nearly caught by Maven but hits him in the eye with her back feet as she jumps over some tree roots
- when the tree falls, she veers to the side to miss being hit, gets a few large splinters from the aftermath
- tries to weave again to lose Blackwall, running off with Owl when she finds him/catches up to him, the gap between her running and Blackwall tearing down the tree and her weaving should mute the attack on her face.
- if there's a problem with that dodge, lmk





Pull my heart out of my chest
Train my mind so I forget
Sink your teeth into my bones
Dig me out then fill the hole

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Kujo she/her
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#16

Final round for escapees is completed. The time limit for the last round of pursuers starts now, with a deadline of January 4th, 3:15pm EST (accounting for the holidays).

If anyone has any questions/concerns feel free to hit up an alpha.


I'm still waiting for you,
to come back.
From Rome, Rome, Rome,

FROM THE ASHES OF ROME

I. BI-N II. ART III. COMMS IV. CODES
Tell me it's over,
tell me it won't linger.

ATTILA
GREGORY
GOTHAM
MELEK TAUS
NERO
ODYSSEY
POMPILIUS
RORSCHACH
SOLOMON
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Bane He/Him/His
Saboro
Saboro
*****
Posts: 17
Pronouns: He/Him/His
Rank [IC]: Sabora | Right WIng | Tracker
Played By: The Little Imp














#17
(This post was last modified: January 02, 2018, 12:21:56 AM by Bane.)


[Image: barn_owl_1_by_starstruckdoodles-dbuuo2g.png]

Although no attack had been perpetrated against himself, Bane felt the recoil from striking his son so forcefully. It was just as well. A little slice of karma for the man who would raise his hand to his offspring. He could feel his ribs cracking all over again, at least it felt as if that were the case. Of course, that was to be expected, he’d been instructed to rest the injuries, and had be been doing so? Of course not. Even before this. The canine halted unwillingly, his body tensing, teeth gritting, an angry-sounding hiss leaving his lungs as his bones unceremoniously popped.

Owl was off and running again by the time Bane’s dom lifted and shook. The boy narrowly missed the ex-Hawkeye’s attacker and was zooming ahead, using her plight as his own distraction. The Spector youth had gone after that female as well. Though hurting and now left several feet behind, Bane’s pursuit did not come to an end. Could not until it was clear he’d be unable to catch the mint colored wolf. So there he was charging forward, his attempts likely fruitless now as he was, but his drive that of a Saborian nevertheless.

Blackwall used their environment to try and catch his half-sister off guard, the fallen tree, however, snagged an already injured Maven instead of its intended target, trapping the lad beneath. That was hardly something Bane saw through his tunnel vision. He gave the whole battleground a wide berth, racing around it through the surrounding foliage instead. A last-ditch attempt.

Circling ‘round and coming back in, his maw parted, and one last snap was doled out if the circumstances gave the Wing the opportunity. He attempted to latch onto Owl’s tail. Snapping the sensitive limb with an uncontrolled bite while halting himself like an anchor to hold the other in place. Of course that was if Owl hadn’t already gotten too far ahead, hadn’t been able to outmaneuver his already wounded sire, and of course, the wolf could always kick him away before he had the chance. Bane’s odds of catching his son like this weren’t high, he was certain, but even still, this was his way. One last hurrah, and if it failed, well, from where he was left in the dust Bane’s head would rise and his congratulations flow up to the treetops.

An announcement to Saboro that two had escaped, but for his son? A gratifying farewell...for now.

Until we meet again.



Note(s):

- Bane's slowed down by his previous injuries during the stamped being aggravated after hitting Owl
- He decides to run around all the action and try to cut in beyond the falling tree.
- Aims for Owl's tail if that's available. Biting down pretty hard and plans on just stop to stop Owl.

- Sidenote, if Owl gets away, Bane howls announcing it to the pack...actually its just code for "I wuv you Soooon!!"
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Kujo she/her
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#18

Due to Ceraphena’s current scary health concerns with her husband at the hospital, Blackwall has unfortunately had to voluntarily default. He was unable to make an attack on Artemisia or Owl due to the confusion and stops at the border.

We have deliberated and this escape is considered SUCCESSFUL. Artemisia and Owl are no longer members of Saboro. (My autocorrect changed members to meme bees for some reason I thought that was important to share.) Have fun outside of the territory!


I'm still waiting for you,
to come back.
From Rome, Rome, Rome,

FROM THE ASHES OF ROME

I. BI-N II. ART III. COMMS IV. CODES
Tell me it's over,
tell me it won't linger.

ATTILA
GREGORY
GOTHAM
MELEK TAUS
NERO
ODYSSEY
POMPILIUS
RORSCHACH
SOLOMON
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Wormwood they/them
it's teddy!
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#19

the meme bees are outie
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Bane He/Him/His
Saboro
Saboro
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Posts: 17
Pronouns: He/Him/His
Rank [IC]: Sabora | Right WIng | Tracker
Played By: The Little Imp














#20

Bane: Son, I just want you to know....I think you're the meme bees
Owl: The bees knees, Dad...
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