For the first time in a long time Novocaine felt like a child again. True he had only recently turned one year but he had often considered himself older than that. Not today, no today he was a terrified pup once more. It hadn?t taken long for the boy to figure out something was wrong. He was sore, cold and surrounded by a god awful stench, oh and blood was pouring out of his eyes. Novocaine was sure he was dying, whatever it was that had afflicted him was killing him. But not here, no he would not wither away alone here in this den.
The grey and white boy crawled from his den afraid of what would happen if he rose to his full height. Once beyond his den he let loose a panicked call, for anyone who might come to his aid. That was when the convulsions took hold of him, starting with is limbs and then taking hold of his whole body. He fell onto his side, shaking uncontrollably, eyes rolling back as the violent shaking overtook him.







talk, think

Please note: Novocaine is missing his right eye entirely, an empty socket is all that remains in its stead. Not all of his tables reflect that as of yet!

He had woken from his slumber, the confines of his den all around him. Groggy, he would stretch. Though each movement would prove unbearable as an intense soreness seemed to grip him. His nose was runny as well, had he gotten sick overnight? A cold? Fever perhaps? It would seem to be the latter. Eyes were runny, though they teared cleanly. Allergies? No. Definitely a mild fever. He felt terrible, though not as terrible as what he would soon come to find. Reluctantly, he would raise to his paws and slide out of his den. The territory seemed eerily quiet, as if the world was holding its breath for something. At least, until a cry would break through the deathly silence. Surprise would take him momentarily, confused and wondering if he had imagined it. Though the call would ring in his ears and within his head, no. It definitely wasn't his imagination. Shaky legs would propel him forward, though he walked with somewhat of a sway as his head pounded. A headache had caught hold of him, and it caused his head to pound with each step, and yet he would not falter. He recognized the voice that had called, and it was the same boy he was to train with. What was wrong? He would only wonder. It would take him no more then a few short moments to locate the other boys whereabouts. He would press through the brush, narrowed eyes refocusing as Novocaine's scent grew, and with it the deathly scent of something more. A sense of dread would grip him, and his steps would hasten. Novocaine would finally come into sight, though Sora's heard would begin to beat madly against his broad chest at the sight. "Novocaine!" A sudden cry would slip from his lips, massive form rushing to the seizing boys side. What the hell was going on?! He had never seen anything like this before! The bloodied face of the boy seemed incredibly pained, but it was the convulsing that frightened Sora more then anything. Lowering himself, he would stand over the boy. Trying to keep him from rolling about as breath came ragged. He would try to keep him steady, and his head would tilt back to call for help...He didn't care who it was at this point, but they needed help. He wanted to look for Uisge, the only one he knew who had some sort of herbal knowledge. But he didn't want to leave Novocaine alone. He would hope now, that Uisge or someone had heard him. "Hang in there, help is coming!" He would utter helplessly, unsure whether or not the boy had heard. Someone..please hurry. "Speech"

There were shapes all around him, laughing, taunting shapes. They snickered as he shook unable to stop himself. He wanted them to stop; he wanted them to leave him alone! They were calling his name, tearing it apart in their horrible screeching voices. A bigger shape than the rest was approaching him, his name booming from the horrific figure. A growl rose from Novocaine, the only thing he still seemed to be in control of. Even that was stripped from him as involuntary strained whines pushed their ways out of his body. No! Why was this happening? Why couldn?t the figures leave him alone?
Then it got worse, the shouting was getting deafening, and suddenly he felt bile rising up in his throat. The figure?s laughter only intensified as he found himself emptying his stomach onto the grass. The boy closed his eyes, laying in his own vomit and willing the voices to be quite. In fact it took him a moment to realize it had gone quite, deathly so. In fact Novocaine was certain he was dead.
But no, he could smell the acid scent of his thrown up food and as he slowly opened his eyes he realized the figures were, gone? all except for one.







talk, think

Please note: Novocaine is missing his right eye entirely, an empty socket is all that remains in its stead. Not all of his tables reflect that as of yet!

How fortuitous of the phantom deity -- to loiter so close to the threshold of the kingdom she had once reigned supreme over, only to be within a close enough proximity to hear the curt summons of her own kin. As a devoted hound of the select few members of her bloodline, it is only protocol for the paladin to adhere to his beckon; and yet, the panicked tone laced within his desperate call is what sends the former tyrant into overdrive. She knew not the reason for his anguish, but she would find no rhyme nor reason for hesitation -- her sibling demanded her presence (whether or not ensnaring her attention specifically had been his intention), and she would willingly grace him with it, regardless of what hindrances she might face as she breached beyond the borderline of the former Elysium's domain. Come what may; she was deterred little by the possibility of Cataleya's wrath for such a blatant display of disrespect -- her brother was worth more to her than whatever suffering she would be forced to endure at the paws of the monarch for trespassing. The refined poise she had perfected in her youth was abandoned in favor of a quick approach, defenses held at a minimum as her cryptic gaze darted frantically through the dense underbrush of her previous home in search of her half-sibling's familiar form. Velveteen nostrils flared with the intake of the titan's scent, robust appendages pumping swiftly as she laid waste to the distance between she and her brother with evident desperation -- death would not claim another of her kin, not as long as she stood to barricade its path. As she neared the haggard form of her sibling, accompanied by a hovering stranger who was powerless to stop the violent convulsions of her brother, the paladin would attempt to thrust herself into the fray, hoping to force the stranger out of the way so that she might take her rightful place at her brother's side. Pupils raked over every inch of her brother's visage, breath hitching in her throat as she examined the macabre embellishments streaming down the face of his countenance; this was no new occurrence to the former tyrant who had endured the same chaotic sight upon the carmine oddity she had encountered days prior. A singular forepaw would elevate from its position upon the earth before she would attempt to lightly brush her digits against her brother's chest, hoping that by some miracle her sibling would return to her at her gentle touch. "Brother..." she called -- pleaded. "Look at me, Novo."

The Queen tried to keep herself together as best as possible. But the sickness was wearing on her. She had isolated herself from the pack, but Kylar refused to leave her side, which meant that when she fell into bits of rage, she often took it out on him. A sigh slipped from her lips as she found a puddle to wash the blood from her face. Her sons howl would shatter the silence around her, causing the woman to lift her head. He sounded panicked, but why? She would pick up a trot, her body protesting by violently emptying her stomach. She would shake herself out, continuing until she found Sora. Coral pools drifted across the scene. Sora was panicking, Novocaine was on the ground. And a familiar pale figure stood within her borders, unwelcome. "What in the hell is going on?" She would pin Sora with her gaze, demanding to know why he was just standing there when someone was trespassing right in front of him. Her gaze would drop to the younger boy, seeing the blood that caked his face. He was sick too. Great.. How many more could there be? WORDS HERE

Everything had gone crazy. Sora didn't know what to do, and his calls so far seemed to be going ignored, for the most part. He tried to still the writhing figure, the bleeding of the eyes freaking him out but the Titan couldn't let that deter him from helping his pack mate. He moved forth again, only to be intercepted by a white female whom he did not recognize. Ears lied back against his crown, blue eyes narrowing and teeth baring as his hackles bristled all along his body. He didn't know who the hell she was, and he would not allow her to trespass in such a way. Though he heard her call Novocaine her brother, she had trespassed without permission and in Arcanum, that was not taken lightly. Stepping forward, he was about to speak when a familiar scent and voice intercepted his own. He glanced at her, somewhat irritated for he had not expected this stranger to come barging in on their lands, did his mother think he was going to do nothing about it? "This bitch is trespassing." He would respond briefly before stepping towards the white woman. "I don't know who you are, nor do I care. You're a trespasser, get off our lands." He growled, his mass of forty-two inches towering over her as his face turned from panicked to stone cold. Novocaine was an Arcanum wolf. And he would be taken care of by his pack mates, not some stranger regardless of who she was. "Speech"

The voices had stopped but despite that the world had not come back into clarity and Novocain felt almost as if he was detached from his body, watching from within but without actually seeing, hearing or feeling anything. He was trapped in someone else?s body and could only sit back and observe. It took him a moment to realize who was standing over him, his mind sluggish as it finally registered Sora, the boy that would be his mentor. Then all too fast for him to register at first Sora was gone, his form replaced by a familiar white one.
Novocaine swallowed hard, blinking blankly up at his sister finally wrapping his head around her presence. ?Art?? He croaked, struggling to bring his gaze to focus upon her. The world was in a fog, voices he recognized speaking, but muffled to his confused senses. He forced himself to hold onto the image of his sister, to focus his attention on her if he could. She was a lighthouse in the mist of the sickness, the only beacon that maybe things might turn out for the better. He had so much he wanted to say, but he wasn?t too keen on the idea of opening his mouth as once more his stomach began to roll. The last thing he wanted to do was throw up again.







talk, think

Please note: Novocaine is missing his right eye entirely, an empty socket is all that remains in its stead. Not all of his tables reflect that as of yet!

A glorified mercenary, tried and true in the savage art of war; and yet, no matter the amount of blood she has spilled, nothing is more gruesome than the macabre embellishments that taint the cheeks of her own kin. The gore is enough to make she ( carnage enthusiast! ) quiver in disgust, her own breath bated as her pupils greedily ravage his haggard form while her senses focus solely upon he who has crumbled beneath the weight of a most grueling disease. The tyrant is powerless in quelling his distress and nothing perturbes her more--not the spiteful behemoth that looms over her shoulder nor the lingering possibility of attack; the only trepidation she faces is that her kin will meet with an untimely demise while she can do nothing but watch on in horror. All she can offer to the frail adolescent is her supporting presence and the gentle ( and uncharacteristically so ) caress of her paw against his chest, as if her rare touch in itself might heal the illness that plagues him. With the silver queen?s approach, her attention diverts away from her sibling only minutely--triangular ears careening in the direction from whence the temptress? incredulous sentiment flowed. Even still, as the threat of bloodshed draws nearer and nearer with the queen?s malevolent presence, the phantom deity disregards her in favor of examining her weakened kin, determined to see him to recovery. However, once the cobalt beast addresses her with venomous tones, fury flares within her chest cavity and she abruptly pivots away from her brother to face the prince that dare see use in seeing her out of his domain rather than tending to her sickly brother--she was appalled to know that this pack of incompetent dregs prioritized trespassers over the health of their own. "My brother is dying and you turn away the only help that has come for him?? she scoffs, broad chest cavity rapidly inflating and deflating as rage consumes her maleficent being and seeps through her pallid pores. There is no use in concealing emotion so intense--her wrath is warranted upon such insipid fools and she would be idiotic to stop it from rearing its hideous head. Oh, the anger is present ( and evidently so ), yet it is diluted by the muffled speech of her brother as he registers her presence and ceases his quaking. Immediately, the wraith returns to his side without adhering to the domineering command of the cobalt behemoth at her rear, silver and violet gaze fervently locking upon Novocaine?s own cerulean as if to plead for him to stay with her. And yet is pointless--she knows--he is wracked by this disease that had consumed her carmine demon and nothing will negate it. "I will leave,? she manages through clenched jaws, pallid lids falling to obscure her eyes from view in a poor attempt to compose herself. The effort is futile, and she turns again to face mother and son, upper lip unfurling dangerously over her gluttonous incisors in unveiled fury. "But I will not leave without him.? The phantom has breached her ultimate decision--her brother serves no purpose within the ranks of a pack who refuse to aide him, and if they will not willingly release him, she will pry him from their grasp.

Her son would spit venomous words about the pale form that stood beside the fallen Novoccaine. "Enough Sora." She would glance briefly at her son before Artemis spoke. Fool. Did she honestly think the boy was being neglected. The whole damn pack was sick. Children..... "Take him then." The Queen would coo to the pale girl that was about to fall apart at the seams. Her silver face was blank of any emotion, blood slowly rolling down her cheeks. The girl was a fool for removing her brother from a pack. Without a pack, they would never know if the cure was found. Her brother would surely die of this plague. But the thought made no impression on the Queen. Her coral gaze would shift to her son, gesturing to him that it was time to leave these two to their travels. "I suggest you don't linger to long." With that, the silver woman would turn away, expecting her son to follow closely. She had no desire to linger within the presence of such irresponsible fools. Long limbs would carry her back into the mists of her home, never once did she look back, nor give the pair a second thought. This had been her second run in with the pale girl, and she was certain that it would not be the last. -exit cat & sora- WORDS HERE

pp permission given by lolaf ~

The phantom?s demands are met in full; the silver temptress relinquishes her hold upon her brother?s allegiance without so much as batting an eyelid, leaving the Elysius wraith with the faintest hint of satisfaction. And yet, as her mismatched gaze devours the sovereign?s intricately-marked countenance, she takes brief notice of the gore that cascades from her coral eyes and contempt flares in her chest; so it is the queen?s fault that her sibling has contracted this most grueling plague? Silver and violet gaze narrow upon the woman and refuses to waver even as she pivots to flee the scene--behemoth child in tow--leaving the Elysius duo with one final and subtly threatening suggestion before the perpetual mists of the forest consumes both of their gargantuan forms and the two siblings are left to their own devices. Bitterness clouds the paladin?s diseased mind and her attention returns to her sickly brother, indifference retaining its claim upon her porcelain visage. "I will take you somewhere safe,? she vows, her vocals a tender murmur as her gaze unites with his own and she glides towards his crown. Gently nudging his skull upon its side to expose the back of his neck, the phantom grasps his scruff between jaws that--for once--do not hold murderous intent, before tugging with all the strength invested within her in hopes of dragging him out of proximity of the cryptic wood they had once reigned supreme over. ? ? ? ? ?? ?--- exeunt artemis & novocaine

The white witch seemed to be seething with anger. And although Sora did not care for her, it was Novocaine he held pity for. The boy was beginning to grow as a friend, for they were set to train together. But alas, it would not be. For his mother had allowed the wretch to take him from Arcanum lands. And in Sora's mind, it was quite a poor choice. Novocaine needed help, and this stranger was taking him away from the only place that could possibly help him. She'll be your downfall. He would think bitterly, the boy sweeping past the pair to follow his mother. As he passed, he would speak words for only Novocaine to hear, though with the plague wracking him, he was unsure whether or not his words were heard. "I'm sorry, friend." He would walk without looking back, the words uttered beneath inked lips as he tailed after his mother. He was sure he could have easily taken down the wench, all he had to do was sit on her. A small smile would tug at his lips despite the situation, for it was an amusing thought. --Exit Sora "Speech"