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Post by Noodle! on Jul 24, 2008 22:56:19 GMT -5
Respected. Dignified. The Godfather; the Murder God. A certain darkness shrouded the alley way that ran between two parallel building walls. The brick was darkened from its original red hue and now resembled a rusty, bloody alternate reality that was set off by suffocating vines and kudzu that were determined to choke every other plant and being out of existence. They stretched their itching green fingers over ever crack and crevasse of the stone, weaving in and out to make sure everything was theirs and under their rule. A small bit of grout fell from its place between two rectangular bricks and with it a minute chunk of the wall fell from place. In the silence it crumbled, sending a thin layer of dust and debris through a stream of light and into the abyss. In that darkness, the sound of the detritus hitting the ground was not heard, for it did not make it that far.
Small motes and specks found themselves on the tawny fur of large canine who was poised atop a wooden crate. The small sparkles in the grout became dim as they faded from that luster of light and then disappeared into the darkness that was the floor of the alleyway. The crate creaked under his weight as he shifted uncomfortably. He shook violently, scattering the dirt off of his coat, and sent them to the ground where they belonged. His fore paws were hanging over the edge of the crate, dangling as his claws scraped the dirt in time with the swinging of his feet. They would go in horizontal lines, counter clockwise rotations, and sometimes they would stop so we could drag a claw into a shape or symbol in the muck and dirt. His large head was laid atop the intersection of his crisscrossed legs and his eyes were set on the opposite wall. Those burning orange oculi peered at the brick siding intently as if they expected it to open up and allow their master passage. His very soul peeked in and out of his pupils with a little glint as they too tried to work their magic.
He raised his head, looking up and down the dark alley as he heard sirens scream and spiral out of the night. Hell hounds must be howling atop the hoods of those emergency vehicles, sniffing out accidents and human blood. Perhaps on the trail of some criminal who was escaping into the dusk never to be caught. Red and blue lights pierced the night, spilling onto the fawn coat of the Cane Corso that was laying in the shadows. His eyes now took in the site of the vehicle as he watched it pass by; seemingly empty and void of a human driver. Strange, since his arrive in Harlow he had not saw one human pass by on the sidewalks nor anyone walking their little dogs and shooing strays. He was standing on the precipice of leaving and returning to the Society that he’d left behind in the city. As soon as he spoke, everyone would know he was not from Harlow. His accent was that of an Italian-American, perhaps from Boston, York, or Jersey.
His paws were the size of a human child’s face, and they stirred up dust and insects as he walked towards the sidewalks. There was a distant clanging and a crash and he saw the white square on wheels smashed into a tall telephone pole. The lines hanged down like black snakes, shooting sparks from their tips as they lashed up and down with almost live movement. His eyes squinted against the light that they created, small ears set backwards as he watched another car crash as well. Water spurted from a fire hydrant as the vehicle made impact and he snorted. Where were all the humans? Although his plan was to stay in the shadows until he receive word from his group, he wandered out into the open. Street lights flickered and went out as the juices flowing in the broken power line failed to fuel them.
In the distance more sirens could be heard, but the vehicles apparently never went into motion for he never saw them. He gazed around the street again, comfortable that his controlled darkness of the alley was now overflowing into the streets of the town. Emerging into it he carried himself with dignity, his form unthreatening, and examined each of the cars and found them to be desolate and empty. Disappearances were not something anyone wanted to be caught in the middle of.
The brutish dog shrugged, shoulders rolling underneath his loosely hung fur. There would be some dog somewhere in this Desperation-like town who would tell him what the hell was going on. He should never have left the Society, but he had a good heart and knew other common canines needed his special assistance. You see, this particular dog’s name was Redrum. Sound familiar? Thought it might. Where he was from, he is a living legend. A god of sorts. He controls the fate of any criminal, or anyone who breaks the rules of the Society. A mafia of sorts, they carry out particular IOU’s of vengeance and such. But now he finds himself here, probably more unknown than he has been in years. He paused, orange eyes scanning the area for any signs of life. Nothing came into view, and he retreated back into the alleyway to wait.
Patience; a strong point of his.
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»Rie
Junior Member
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Post by »Rie on Jul 26, 2008 14:30:44 GMT -5
Rellik
St. Valentine
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Shotgun Opera.
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His paws were raw from the full out run down the tar and concrete mixture that made up the great roadways the humans used to get about everywhere: It had been to urgent to take the lesser known pathways, and so the bull terrier had simply run along the side of the road: it was odd that he hadn't encountered much in the way of traffic coming or going; normally that particularly byway was rather busy except for in the dead of night. He'd stopped to rest sparingly; laying on his side in the short brittle grass alongside the gravel spits, his sides heaving as he sucked in much needed air. When he dozed nightmares and worries plagued the realm of his dreams; traversing his head on silent paws: They reminded him of a wily alley cat only much larger, and a great deal more dangerous.
But, that was then; and this was now: Here he stood on the precipice of this small city. The glow of electric light was less omnipresent than it was back home, giving the black lump he was approaching at a quick clip a pale halo. He'd had his sights locked on it since he'd crested that last hill, and he wasn't about to stop now: Despite the ache in his legs, and the cramping in his paws, or the burn in his lungs. His mouth was parted wide, tongue slathering liquid spittle as it hung flapping from his mouth: his breath hissed through nostrils and his gaping maw with an audible sound. His throat felt like he'd swallowed the entire roads worth of dirt. Still... Rellik lengthened his strides, throwing his forepaws out in front of him as he pushed off with his haunches in a quick bounding sprint: gaining his second (though in reality it was more than that) wind, as it were.
His small dark eyes caught a glimpse of a large sign off to his right, caught the words 'Welcome to the City of Harlow! Population:' Whatever the population of Harlow was he didn't have time to make a note of it, he was already passing the sign and nearing the limits of the city. Suburbs bloomed around him; homes both well kept and ramshackle lined the street to either side. Lawns with fences, and without began to fill in wild but kept look of farmland, which had earlier replaced wilderness.
Rellik's claws scraped and skittered against the pavement as came to a sudden halt, standing there in an empty intersection of several roads; his ears twitching this way and that as he listened. The distant wail of sirens was ignorable; nothing the city-wise dog hadn't heard before. What disturbed him, as he stood there panting heavily, was the sound of distressed canines that came flooding in on the wind. He could hear the howling, yelping, whining; and he could smell the upset: It stained his nostrils as clearly as any blood-smell.
The bull terrier stood there, his entire body ridged but for the fine trembles of fatigue that skated precariously through his muscles. He felt tense as though getting ready to enter a battle completely unprepared: The vivid scar on his foreleg throbbed slightly, and absently he bent his thick neck and ran his tongue over the fine, short fur and the bare flesh there; trying to soothe away the slight ache. A sudden flare of brilliance caused Rellik to jerk his head upward to see the massive glowing eyes of a car hurtling toward him down the road, giving a sound that was almost more yowl than yelp he threw himself forward, skipping gracelessly out of the way: A screech of tires behind him followed by the sound of crunching metal had him glancing back to find the car had chosen to park itself on the curb, nosed into a light post; the metal of the post was twisted, and it seemed to bow over the car that had slammed into it; the wires attached to it's top curved like a hammock.
Slowly Rellik slithered back toward the car; the passenger side door was hanging open; thrown that way from the impact. An eerie silence hung around him making the soft click-click of his claws sound extra loud in his ears, as he reached the metal beast's side he tilted his head peering into the interior curiously: Empty packets that smelled of food littered the floor, and a half empty Styrofoam cup smelling heavily of coffee sat in the cup holder; the expired air freshener dangling from the rear view mirror swung back and forth slowly; each pendulous pass leeching the momentum. Lifting up one fore paw, he placed it on the runner just inside the door; feeling the oddly gripping rubber beneath his tender paw pads; his other paw came up and he stood with them braced there staring up over the seat into the murky interior: There were no humans inside. He noticed almost inanely that there was a small red light blinking on the dashboard.
Pushing off the side of the car he backed up a few quick paces, then, pausing he looked at the crumbled wreckage for a moment and with a quick clatter of paws he rounded to the back of the vehicle and bounced lightly up onto the trunk, and then jumped onto the roof with, feeling it indent slightly with a hollow thump. Turning a slow circle he took in the view he'd garnered thanks to his new perch and found something rather disturbing: All along the way doors stood open, handbags and brief cases strewn on the sidewalks. Car doors stood open as the vehicles idled on the roadside; bikes lay abandoned and forgotten. It was almost like all the humans had just dropped whatever they were doing and wandered off.
In that second the bull terrier decided: This could either be very good, or very bad. His quick mind was turning it over and over, like a human with a slinky. His wide mouth opened in a bland grin: Everything was good if you knew how to use it. Turning away from the scene he decided to leave it until he found the Boss; that was the most important thing, after all. Now, if he were the Boss where would he be? Staring down the three possibilities for a moment Rellik gave voice to a quiet sigh, and then jumped off the roof of the car; hitting the pavement running.
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He'd been wandering the area for several minutes now; sticking close to the shadows and trying to figure out where the Boss was in this city: You'd think it wouldn't be to hard to find him, after all the place wasn't that big. Sure, Rell was used to Redrum being well known, but still.... Rellik paused, listening; the loud swooping wail of sirens were coming to close for his liking... and... Moving on instinct the black and white dog skittered up onto the side walk, and stood in the shadows of a dumpster as an emergency vehicle careened by only to slam into a post down near the other end of the street. Standing there panting Rell lifted his right leg slightly, resting the curve of his claws against the pavement as he breathed heavily: Good lord was he ever beat.
He'd been starring blearily at the wreckage for several seconds when he noticed it; a slight movement near it. The crack and a shower of sparks from snapped power lines high lighted the figure for the blink of an eye. Couldn't be... Then it was gone, like a phantom: As if it'd never been there at all.
And yet...
Call it fate, coincidence, dumb luck, or a higher power: Rellik didn't care. He jumped out of his hiding place and raced across the street, turning sharply and darting along the side walk toward the shadowy opening between the buildings, winding around a few mouldering garbage bags. Reaching the entrance to the alley he peered around the corner warily, long past the point where panting did him any good: His tongue felt as dry as the rest of him. Limping and staggering slightly he dawdled at the entrance to the alley for a few seconds before plunging into the heavy gloom, "Boss?" he rasped thickly.
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Lock and Load. [/color][/right] [/size] [/blockquote][/blockquote] |
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Post by Noodle! on Jul 26, 2008 20:17:46 GMT -5
Desolate.
That was one work that resounded in the Cane Corso’s head as he pondered over the scene he had just witnessed. Everywhere seemed to be deserted, and he couldn’t find anyone to get information off of about this new town he’d come to. He knew nothing of this “Harlow”, except what he had heard from his various sources back in his own city, and being ignorant was not something he thought highly of. Being a dog of adequate intelligence, he did understand certain human words and symbols: finding that a valuable asset in life on the streets. Upon reentering the area between the buildings he lifted himself onto the crate to look down into the garbage. He sifted through the trash with his nose, looking for one of those black and white papers humans transferred their information to the public through. He snuffed as he got a piece of mayonnaise-matted lettuce on him, finding the half-eaten burger only moments later. Humans were such wasteful creatures. Without getting completely into the dumpster it seemed he wasn’t going to find one of those newspapers. That in itself was strange; there was always one to be found.
It had been only moments since Redrum Dog had went back into the overlapping shadows of the alleyway before he heard the sound of Rellik’s voice. His clear, calm eyes turned towards the sound of the voice. The long face of a bull terrier was visible as he peered into the darkness. Redrum immediately recognized the black splotches over one eye and behind one ear. Why was his trustworthy bull terrier comrade here? Who was back with the group? He knew Rellik would never abandon the Society without some terrible misfortune befalling him, or if he had dire news that needed reporting. The bull terrier was his most trusted ally; the only dog he ever entrusted with the plans of the family or those than concerned their business. They were as closely knit as family; a sort of brotherly or even father-son understanding. He took a few steps forward, face serenely calm and on the verge of unemotional as he spoke.
’ey, its St. Valentine. His accent was thickly displayed in his words as he spoke with the casualness of meeting by chance on the street. Quickly his tone turned to an almost threatening degree, stern and serious, though somehow still strangely cool, I do hope you are not here not here to deliva’ me with som’ ill news.
There was something missing from this encounter already. It was more desolation, more absence. His eyes searched the street behind Rellik as he looked for any of those allies of the terrier that may have accompanied him. It was rare that the bull terrier travelled without his friends: Purple, Martel, Calliope, and Jino. But he saw neither the Jack Russell twins nor the Fox terrier. This quickly answered his question for him: ill news was indeed about to be spilled. Redrum fondly referred to them as the ‘Terror Terriers’ or ‘Terriers of Terror’ at times when he was in light-hearted company. It was that group of dedicated dogs that carried out most of canine mafia’s dirty deeds, they also proved as trusted body guards to both Redrum and Rellik when necessary.
As he waited for the seemingly exhausted terrier to reply he took the time to look around the streets again, keeping an eye out for any form of life. He could hear the screams of small dogs, the howls of larger, all desperate for something. Or frightened. Perhaps some trapped in the twisted metal traps of the wrecked cars, finding themselves pinned beneath the dashboard, unable to escape without human help. And humans had apparently either suddenly or long since deserted this small town. There would be much work to do here indeed. They would make the best of this situation, as taking advantage of even the worst was something held in high regard by Rellik and Redrum himself.
The history between the two of them went way back, at least in terms of the depth of their emotional history. Redrum had rescued a young, vengeful Rellik from the murderous paws of a pack of dogs. He never knew exactly what the young bull terrier had done to be ambushed by the group of canines, but the matter of the fact was he was outnumbered. It was an unfair fight, no matter what Rellik had done. He did not offer explanation for his actions, did not wait for his ‘mercy’ or ‘chivalry’ to be idolized by the youth. He soon discovered that he had a small white shadow following his every footstep. This was the beginning of a beautiful, if it could be called that, partnership. And it played itself out into a successful career and led them to their present predicament.
Whatever it turned out to be. |
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