Like The Invisible Man [Noodle]

[»Rie]

Night hung low over the neighborhoods, the windows were lit from within by the pale steady glow of low light lamps, and the flickering water like blue of television screens; though no sound could be heard beyond the walls. The streets were empty, and most yards desolate and abandoned; a few dogs rustling inside the fences, but other than that a quiet suburban night had settled over the greater area. The dull yellow orange glow of street lights created glowing pools on the pitted pavement. A few stray leaves skittered along the curb scraping dryly against the tar and cement. The soft click, click, click of claws on cement seemed overly loud in the near silence, though the soft sound of paws was nearly nonexistent.

Over head a few stars peaked through the radiant glow of human lights as though to proclaim that, yes, they were still there. He paced along the fence line of his former home, the shadow of hedges occasionally darkening the sleek shadow further, though the highlights of the manor houses flood lights cast him in painstakingly sharp relief from time to time. Pausing, the large dog snuffled along a certain point of the fence before turn and pacing off down the road, his nose to the pavement; above him the electrical lines hummed with power.

The scent was faded due to the amount of time and traffic since the trail had been laid, but he was still able to follow it. Junius paused beneath the sickly glow of a street light at the corner of one block, the light seemed to have a faulty bulb and flickered in slow pulsing flares, casting the already fearsome looking dog into a ghastly figure; a tormented wraith come to haunt the nightmares of the unwary.

He paced alongside the curb, not up on the side walk itself; he seemed to not want to get to close to the lawns and fences. Each flicker of light revealed a dog with patches of mud smeared into his short fur; lacerations and bite marks tore across his hide giving him a ragged look. His sleek hide was marked with dried and cracked mud, and sticky blood from reopened wounds; older dried blood formed a crust that spiked his short fur into needles. His jaw gaped open, tongue dangling from between his lower canine teeth. His dark corpse eyes flickered to the side as the scent trail turned toward a house.

Junius came to a stop sitting just off the curb in the road, and sat down. The glow of the flickering street lamp lit one side of his body in slow turns, highlighting the monstrous figure he made. His eyes stared straight toward the human's abode, as though willing the one he knew to be within to come out.

[Noodle!]

<sub>It was dark not only outside, but within the massive human homes as well. Inside the shar-pei’s home there was not a single light on, as the young woman who lived there was long since in bed. It was a ‘school night’ and this meant she needed plenty of rest for whatever humans ended up doing there all day. The sink was dripping water into a slowly filling saucer, causing a constant sound drip... drip... that was unpredictable in its consistency and repetition. One who strives on pattern may be driven crazy by its erratic dropping, but everyone in this household was asleep. Upstairs there was a slightly opened window, a screen propping it open to allow fresh air in but keep insects out. It was through this window that the scent came.

Dahlia was asleep downstairs, sprawled out completely unladylike on top of that comfortable suede couch. Her breath came in gasps, for that demon outside her door plagued her subconscious as well. She rolled from side to side, slipping off of the couch once and landing on the floor with a thud. Her black eyes shot open, head snapping upwards and colliding with coffee table to create a dull thud. She snarled at the table, wanting to snap at it just as she’d bitten off the nose of that stray who stuck her maw through her fence... She smirked, just the thought of that raised her spirits and chased away the ringing pain in her cranium. She shook off quietly, laying back down to sleep again.

That’s when it reached her. The scent crawled down the stairs, curling around the banister and then sneaking over the expensive couch before reaching the dog’s nostrils. Her head slowly left the floor, ears erect. Her nose was working overtime, tossing the scent around over and over as if to affirm what her brain was screaming at her. Here? A ghost whispered the word in her mind as she leapt to her feet. Damnations for not having a doggie door, she thought as she bolted up the stairs. She made a loud cacophony of sound as she gently growled in her throat and stumbled up each step. She peeked in her master’s room, finding that the girl was still fondly asleep. She stank of that human liquid, the one that put her master to a fitless sleep. Bless that stuff, it must be magic.

She went to the screen door, eyes peering through the mesh which colored the world outside in checks of black and grey. She saw him, well half of him, sitting as if placed there out in the streets. She backed up, calculating the distance and force needed... Head down, shoulders forward, she rammed the screen and burst onto te piece of extended roofing.

The night hair seemed stronger now, and she shook herself off. The stairs winked gently, congratulating her efforts to visit them. She smiled and then looked down at the brute on the ground. She wasn’t much in the way of words, and usually she wouldn’t say much to anyone at all. For now, she placed herself at the edge of the roofing, some ten feet or so up, and lay down; head on paws. Her lips parted, and she uttered a single calling.

Junius.

((edit: i've decided blockquote looks good...haha...))</sub>

[»Rie]

Junius was, despite appearances, not a stupid brute. In fact he really was quite intelligent; he knew that if he was quiet the humans forgot about him: After all he was never quiet and still around humans; not Junius. As a result the doberman had learned quite a few things. Thus, as he lifted his sharp head at the sound of his name, and his blank eyes sought out Dahlia on the balcony above he couldn't help but be amused by the irony of the situation, and before he could stop himself his dark voice was resonating from his chest; the words quiet but sill carrying, "Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?"

His lips peeled back and he flash the shar-pei a feral smile, his voice dark and slow; like the creeping of day into night, "Hello Black Dhalia, did you miss me so?" He crooned, almost mockingly. Memories of the sound of crashing objects from several seconds before dancing around his brain, his amusement swirled, and eddied in his stomach. "Did you fear I'd just leave you, pet?" His voice dripped his amusement, like thick honey. "I did not take you for a female of silliness and fripperies."

He shifted craning his neck as thought to get closer, though he could not; would not. He refused to approach the human's domain, the very thought made him want to bite his own leg bloody. "What an irony we face, you who are trapped and I who am free." His great sharp head tilted, and the low light of the street lamp warmed his muzzle for a moment, he stood feeling the tense pull of his sore bodies, and the part of a blood caked scab; a few warm drops of blood joined the mess of his body. He stepped forward a few paces, his forepaws planted on the top curve of the curb, and each motion seemed jerky; like a picture show with missing pieces as the light faded in and out, "I wonder if there is a way to rectify this..." He mused, tongue hanging as he seemed to speak to himself. "Filthy humans and their filthy cages..."

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OoC: Ew, crappy, crappy post...

[Noodle!]

<sub>A smile smirk tugged at the corner of one side of her mouth, threatening a small smile at his insults and taunts. The static and flashing images of the dog dancing in the light below, approaching and slinking back, were tickling her curiosity. Her black eyes flashed with a gentle reflection of that curious urge, and her black and pink speckled gums were visible with a toothy grin. Miss you? An understatement, love. As for fripperies, I’ve never been one for such things, do not flatter yourself with the thought.

Her stocky legs stretched beneath her, rasing like stilts beneath her, she wobbled lightly as she looked at the ground. Eyes did the math, as always, thinking her little project through. Gently curved claws clenched at the sides of the gutter, creaking beneath her weight lightly. Sending the strange sound through the still night. Loose skin wrinkled around her neck and moved to gather just behind her head as she looked down, gravity taking them with her. Back feet left the roof for a moment before she backed up. I at least had expected a thank you from a gentleman as cogitative as yourself. She called sarcastically, huffing lightly before launching herself into the air.

Her front legs were stretched out before her, back legs tucked. She looked like a retriever pushing itself into the water after a water bird. Cheeks flapped lightly in a briefly humorous portrait before she landed on the turf of the yard. She stumbled lightly, regaining her poise quickly before moving to the fence. She raised her paws between two of the white stakes and watched him carefully. He had his front feet on the curb, but his lower half was lost in shadows as if he were part of the dark itself; an extension of the mysteries that lay beyond the reach of the street lights.

She was silent, allowing him to speak; wondering why he had come.</sub>

[»Rie]

The Doberman's eyes watched her like a cat at a mouse hole, intense and concentrated; as if there was nothing else in the world. His regard could have been skin crawling; having eyes like his staring, and staring. Junius' gaze was unblinking, for the most part; as though he'd long ago left behind the needs of any living creature.... Perhaps he had. Perhaps the darkness he had willingly handed himself over to had corrupted him beyond repair. The thump of her heavy landing echoed in his ears like the slamming of a car door, and one of his jagged ears twitched minutely. She moved to the fence line, and stood against it peering down at him like the captive in some human show. Though, considering the times she'd deigned him with her presence, she wasn't as captive as she played at now.

Roughly he chuckled at her words his white teeth flashing in the shadows as he grinned; feral like, "They beg to differ, pet, that I am anywhere near cognitive." His tongue flicked out, curving over the side of his sharp muzzle, and he faintly tasted his own blood. "They don't want me to be, that would scare them more." The laugh he gave forth, then, was chilling; malicious and sadistic.

His hind legs kicked lightly off the pavement, curling forward to land on the curb, his fore legs twitching forward to keep him in balance as he took a few halting steps toward her. He favored one fore paw absently, not really aware of the pain the tender limb sent shooting up his muscles when he put pressure on it. A small rain of dried mud and grime fell from his coat with each movement he made. When he spoke next it was with a tone of grim and mocking amusement, "But truth you speak, my pet, my mother never taught me manners, I fear. A boon, then, for you from me. What would you have of me?" It seemed like falsities, but for once he did not lie; he'd do something for her. He owed her, and he didn't really like the idea of debt, debt meant that someone could coerce him.

He liked his Black Dahlia, but he trusted no one.

[Noodle!]

<sub>Dahlia hanged over the fence like the carcass of some animal draped there as a warning to trespassers. She was completely still, almost frighteningly so, as she listened to the Doberman’s words. Her eyes were emotionless, staring at him as darkly as a rattler from beneath a stone. One triangular ear twitched only slightly at one particular comment and her mind was quickly organizing the words into sentences and preparing the bitch for a reply to him. She was witty, sharp in the mind and with her tongue; but at the time she sat in silence and did not reply to his riddling words. The enigma that presented itself in the form of the sleek dog watched her as if locked onto a target, and she smiled once before quickly shoving her amusement away.

A bug flew into the street light above, having a fatal attraction not so unlike the shar-pei. With a slight buzzing sound, the insect was burned immediately on contact with the bulb and fell dead. If she had have noticed this particular, minute tragedy; she would perhaps hope she was lucky enough to not end up the same. With the flutter of the bug’s wings, it cast a monstrous shadow so contradictory to its size down on the dogs. In that brief moment, a thick red-black liquid glimmered and caught her eye. It was blood, from a somewhat fresh wound and curiosity once again overtook her.

Heaving only lightly on her front paws, she sprung over the picket fence and landed directly in front of him. She stretched forward, leaning on her front paws as she extended her neck towards him. A black tongue offered itself to the flesh of his maw and wrapped itself around one of the oozing wounds. It retracted, pulling the bittersweet flavor of blood with it and she swallowed heartily, savoring the taste. She then sat down before him, looking directly up at him, making eye contact as to hold him in the line of her smooth vision.

I ask for no act of gracious kindness. She snarled the last two words, their positive taste leaving a stain in her mouth, Consider us even for your troubles to seek me out.

Her mind raced selfishly through all the thing she could ask him for. He was a powerful monster blessed with a perfect amount of mental stamina and capacity for intelligence. Her thoughts wandered to that nasty bastard who had snapped at her for entering his yard, and she pleasured in the thought of seeing him in several pieces as lawn ornaments. There were several thing she could ask him for, things that he would do simply to be rid of the possibility of coercion.

But Dahlia spoke of none; the favors seemed empty to her.</sub>

[»Rie]

As she jumped over the fence he backed up a few paces as she approached him, his body automatically shied away from her as she drew in close enough before lapping over the wound in his muzzle, the corded muscles beneath his tightly drawn skin fluttering as his snout wrinkle automatically into a silent snarl; though there was no cognitive reaction; instead it just seemed habitual. He flinched faintly as he tongue dragged over torn and ragged flesh; aggravating the sluggish wound into producing a fresher flow of crimson life. He felt vaguely like his skin was crawling, like the time he'd fallen asleep and woken to find his hide alive with a thick mess of red ants. The Doberman's narrow haunches folded automatically, rolling onto one hip and lifting a hind paw to kick at his shoulder, his claws scraping off crumbling fragments of dried mud and blood. Loosening the stuff made his skin itch rather than crawl, but he liked the itching better than the more peculiar one. He'd never had another dog close enough to him without a barrier between them; not sense he'd been taken from the breeding kennels.

Arching his neck caused the long laceration torn along the side to part slightly, like a macabre mouth. His claws clipped the tail end of the wound where the skin was punctured as though something had gotten a hold of him there; something had, really. Junius' lip curled slightly as he itched before relaxing back into his normal impassive features; it was often terrifying his features could twist from absolute blankness to rabid, raging beast. His eyes flickered upward as her words registered in his mind, and a moment later he was on his paws again and approaching her for the first time. Dried grime cracked and drifted off his soiled coat as he idly circled her once or twice, his pace was lazy and caused his sharp shoulder blades to roll beneath his hide; like a hunting cat prowling.

To the casual gaze the doberman was a well muscled sleek monster, but close inspection proved that he was a lot of jagged angles and sharp edges; remnants of his life of starvation that could not seemed to be erased. He laughed lowly as he circled behind her his clammy nose tickling the delicate edge of one of her floppy yet pointed ears, "Gracious kindness?" He cooed into the appendage, his voice low and dark but filled with a sort of ill bought humor. "Now, my pet, we both know theres nothing gracious about my so-called kindness, even you say those words with such spitting as though they taste of poison." He continued around her, his chilly leather nose tracing along the folded skin of the back of her head, along her other ear the down her wrinkled cheek. Then pausing he rested his jagged head against hers; cheek to cheek. "We speak not of favors, and owing in any case, I assure you. Had I thought I owed you anything I'd not have returned; and even have avoided if I expected you'd collect. We're of a mind, you and I, my Black Dahlia..." His lips curled away in disgust as he uttered his next words in a guttural rumble, "Even if you continue to bear this disturbing need to serve the filthy two-legged pigs."

Moving away he paced out, stepping lightly down off the curb, and into the street the shadows embraced him, leaving the only visible sight of him a vague outline unless the faltering street light was in one of it's glowing moments. Turning he glanced over his shoulder at her as he had all those days ago when she'd freed him, "So tell me, pet, are you going to continue with your foolish drivel of favors and kindness, or take the chance presented and allow this humble monster to thank you properly?" There, as the street lamp flickered appeared a russet glimmer in his dead mud brown eyes, as though there was an existent life within that sordid shell, and he idly curled his tongue of his snout, tasting his own blood. Being free was such a grand thing, really.

[Noodle!]

<sub>There was a gentle breeze that tickled her hide as she watched the angles that made up the doberman move in the dim light. Sharp edges made up his shoulders and skull, smoothing into direct rays that flowed down his spine and into the tip of his tail. Ears were small triangles that stood erect, while certain oval lozenges made up his muddy-colored brows. Geometry was unavoidable in life, but this particular dog was a finely formed machine of dynamic angles and shapes. Her eyes swept over every particular area of his body as she listened; giving her that uncanny appearance of disinterest in the conversation. Her small ears, however, were perked intently she hung on ever sarcasm-dripping word.

Her body tensed lightly at his mention of humans. He spoke with such a contempt that it made the shar-pei antsy. She had no particular love of humans, as her breed could survive independantly if needed, but she did hold a certain fondness for her human companion. She protected the young human with her life, and she was the only human that did not irk her. This Junius held no amicable feelings for anything, as it seemed. Dahlia did find herself strangely attracted to the brutish monster in an odd sort of way. Her fascination was escalating without her knowledge, from peeking through fences to releasing the beast into the world.

Look what I've built, it shines so beautifully... Now watch as it destroys me.

His blood remained sweetly on her tongue, giving a little tease of aggressiveness to flutter her stomach. Would he turn on her? That was something that strangely enough did not cross her mind. She had no trust for him, nor for anyone save a bit for her human, but she felt an amount of emotion that allowed him closer than other creatures. She felt no alterior motives, sensed no conniving plot of her demise. She was at ease with the violent one. His movements shook her thoughts and threw them into her subconscious chasm and her attention directed itself at him again. She cocked her head, eyes narrowing.

Et tu, Brute? She murmurred, words barely audible, only the click of her tongue as she got to the 't's in each word making a ring in the quiet; eyes staring past him into the darkness that was the night. But she followed him, speaking aloud this time, Very well then.

Love with a gentle violence. Whether she knew it or not, to her that's what it was becoming.</sub>

[»Rie]

Junius

Devil Incarnate

[/center]

Et tu, Brute?

------

The faint luminescence of the street light buzzed and went dark again, and there was a soundlessness in the area that coated it as thick as tar: It almost seemed as though the monstrous doberman had absolutely disappeared in that single eye blink of a moment. With a low hum that was surprisingly loud in the intense quiet that surrounded them the yellow-orange light came back to life spilling its laconic glow over an empty street; Junius had slipped silently into the shadows as though he'd never been there: A haunting phantom, a figment of a deranged mind.

The seconds ticked by, drawn out in the ever dark quiet of the late night. There came a soft thump, and that peculiar sound of hollow metal accompanied by the faint clatter of claws. Then, the night seemed to shred and break apart as the car alarm began to wail. Across the street a sleek form was graced by the pale back lighting of some white glowing porch light. He walked up the sloping plane of the windshield, his claws clickity-clacking on the smooth glass, and spoke all the while; his dark melodious voice droll and flat turning what should have been an abundant proclamation of devotion into a morbid dirge, "I take thee at thy word. Call me but love, and I'll be new baptized; Henceforth I never will be Romeo." the words carried above the wail of the car alarm, and after he spoke them he jumped off the roof of the car; landing with a hard thump on the pavement as he strode off down the lane.

Disappearing into the shadows once more his claws quiet, and hidden beneath the the cry of the vehicle. He strode toward the flickering lamp, his movements seemed jerky in the constant flash as though he strutted down the walk way in a fashion show; or a slide show that was missing important parts. His voice, however, continued after a moment as though he'd left a gap; a pause for a response. "By a name I know not how to tell thee who I am. My name, dear saint, is hateful to myself because it is an enemy to thee. Had I it written, I would tear the word."

He paused now, standing directly under the pulsing street lamp as though encased in a strange sort of spotlight, lifting his head he looked directly back at her tilting his snout upward in a jaunty sort of manner; his tongue slid provocatively over the sharpness of his muzzle. Then, in the next flicker of the light he was moving again, and the return of brilliance caught only the edge of his haunches as he disappeared down an alleyway that was really barely more than a gap between two high hedges. He drifted down it with that aimless pace one takes when waiting for something to happen, and not really caring of it does.

He brought himself to a halt beneath a running waterspout, that dangled from the roof by several feet; it seemed to still be draining gathered storm water from somewhere. Sitting beneath it he tilted his head back letting the liquid run over his short furred hide and turn the dried mud wet again, causing a good deal to start sloughing off his body like he was shedding his outer shell. Flicking his tongue briefly over his nose he noted that it tasted faintly rusty.

------

Sic semper tyrannis!

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[Noodle!]

<sub>Dahlia followed like some whipped whelp, a carbon copy of his every step. Quickly, however, she came to the realization of this particular metaphor: it playing in her head over and over and demanding that the haughty bitch do something about it. She huffed lightly to herself, stopping until he was a few steps away. The sleek, jaggedly built Doberman cut in and out of the human’s lights, disappearing and reappearing to her delight as he paced the streets. A click of claw on metal brought her to the awareness that he was atop a car, glass crunched underfoot as he mounted atop the slick windshield before he rounded himself onto the top of the car. She remained on the ground, looking up at him as if he were some pagan god, illuminated in the blue-yellow of the street light. She looked up at him, eyes narrowing and blinking savagely against the glare as she tried to see his face. All that seemed to be there was a black shadow, occasionally green eyes reflected to signal to her where their place was. His shoulder blades jutted in an almost malnourished fashion and formed stunted wings to his already frightening silhouette. Loose layers of fur slid back onto her neck, forming fawn wrinkles as she listened to his melancholic confession. A slick smile melted onto her face only briefly, and then it was gone. Squinted eyes watched as he brought himself down from the car and made his way off onto some other destructive exploit.

She followed again, diligently, a word seldom able to correctly be applied to her; but in this particular instance it was absolutely fitting. Her feet paced in quick precession as she came behind him, stopping only as he did but remaining completely silent in reply. He stopped again, completely bathed in light, changing from a ravenous god to a fallen angel. The light that surrounded him gave an aura of death, foreshadowing of things to come; he was in the light now, but soon he would disappear back into darkness. He turned to her, speaking again, but she did not reply, just as before. His wet tongue caught a glimmer in the light as it glided over his maw like a serpent released from the throat of the beast. This sign was caught in her mind for moments, and as she came back to reality, she realized he’d left the limelight, and caught the sheen of his black fur as he deepened himself farther and farther into shadows.

She sprang after him: a combination of her interest in what else he may come up with to say and the desperation of escaping that hideous yowl the automobile was continuing to sling at her ears. The pads of her paws made a splash as she stepped in the muck that was rinsing off of his body, watching him with a strange fascination as he stood beneath the rusty water that leaked from the spout in a steady stream. She gathered her haunches to sit, positioning her feet as so where her hindquarters did not get wet from the forming puddle. For the first time, something told her he was handsome, but Dahlia had no eye for looks. It was his deranged mental state and wonderfully morbid way with words that struck her as strangely eloquent and brash that attracted her to not him but his company. His tongue was visible again for a moment as he licked the water from it, tasting its quality. Her own mouth began to water slightly, telling her mind it would be clean but impure with a tinge of rust: nothing like the bottled water she demanded from her owner. Shame at the thought, she turned her head away to divert her thoughts from the fact that she was a spoiled pet.

A pack of dogs startled her; they ran down the street barking and howling like mad. The leader of the pack carried his tail high, head raised as well. You could easily pick him out as the lead dog, the alpha in the small group. She took note of them, finding it strange they were not chased by a human, or that they were able to run about without human notice. She turned back to the Doberman, standing and moving herself towards him. You too, love, shall have a taste of power. She tossed her large head at the small pack that had ran by, though giving him a vivacious glare that gave him the idea that she meant on a much, much larger scale. A ghost of a smile played on her lips.

And I have only one counsel for you: be master.</sub>

[»Rie]

Junius

Devil Incarnate

[/center]

Et tu, Brute?

------

He pulled out from under the dribbling water, and oddly enough didn't seem embraced of the same instinct to shake as more or less all other dogs were once they pulled themselves from a soaking. Instead he tipped his head toward her, watching her from a bloodshot muddy eye; the blank irises and glazed pupils observing her for several seconds before his lips folded into a devastating grin, "Power?" He echoed the thrum of his dark voice multiplied in the tight confines of the gap he'd led her into; the smell of damp and mildew coiled in his nostrils. He drifted forward at a few slow leisurely paces almost as though he'd worked off the previous energy that had, had him moving all over the place.

Then, he whirled around so fast it would be hard to believe he hadn't slipped a disk in that sloping back of his. His face was inches from her, curved forward so he could peer directly into her small dark eyes in the dim gloom of the alleyway. His breath was hot, fetid, and fouled: The smell of blood sung so heavily in his every exhale it was hard to believe there was ever anything else to bypass his trachea. It almost seemed as if this doberman was somehow vampiric. "And what of you, my wond'rous pet? When I stand on this high pedestal you see for me? Where do you see yourself?" He taunted, taking on that hypnotic tone that he'd used not so long ago against two fools who thought they could stand against him.

He moved again, winding around her in a motion that was more like a house cat than any dog. He seemed almost to have never really learned how a proper canine ought to move, so much of him seemed disturbingly feline: an odd quirk to be sure. His wet side meshed with her short bristling fur as he wound a circuit around her before lunging forward in a short spurt, his paws shoving into the ground as he jumped upward to balance on a precariously teetering garbage can, "Are you there, by my pedestal staring up at me? ... Perhaps on another beside me? Or even..." He paused, wobbling on his perch. His energy almost seemed manic; as though there was to much pent up inside him: Like he was rushing headlong into something and couldn't, wouldn't stop. "On the same beside me?" She was such a quiet being, he supposed he rambled uselessly enough for the two of them, yet some part of him needed to taunt and tease her; galvanize her into some reaction just as she seemed to do him.

Tossing his head up he let forth a barking hoot of raw laughter, and as his 'pedestal' toppled over he flung himself forward into another solid jump, landing near the edge of the hedgerow; the exit opposite from the one they'd used as an entrance. He paced forward, peering through the shadows as and onto the blank canvas of the pavement before him. The whoop of the car alarm drifted into his avidly perked ears: Muffled by distance and solid objects, but still readily available.

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Sic semper tyrannis!

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[Noodle!]

<sub>The Doberman was in her face in a moment’s time, flowing as freely as if he were the master of time itself. Once again, as it had happened several times before, she was sitting as he stood towering over her, looking down in a strange sort of way with those dead eyes of his. To seem so lifeless, they were extremely dynamic and full of the spark that she compared with life. Her nose was pointed directly upwards, small eyes peering at him with an opposite gaze. He spoke the word ‘power’ slowly, as if allowing his open mouth to taste the word as it flowed towards her, dancing around her head and ears. It was at this time she realized how small the space the two of them occupied was. She scarcely had the room to turn around, and as he spun agilely to face her those few minutes before, she could see his advantage in even the tightest situations.

Junius was then upon a trashcan in a flash, standing like some trained sea-lion atop an unsteady ball. The circus music played momentarily in her head, and she chuckled quietly before listening to him talk. Talk. That’s what it was, and she was glad he was vocal. Dahlia herself was a quiet soul, and she did not believe she needed to fill that silence which was offered to her, that was unless she was given a good reason. And at this time Junius prodded and pried at her with taunts and propositions. She smirked, the right side of her lip rising slightly.

That all depends on how you handle your power, my dear. I may be the pedestal itself, or I may be that lurking shadow; preparing to slip that knife into your back. A devilish grin spread over her maw before she continued, I dare say the world could not handle the both of us.

And again he was off. Flinging himself off of the toppling trashcan before wandering to the end of the alleyway and pausing. Dahlia took this chance to dart after him, her teeth slowly and gently scraped his flank. Bits of fur clung to her teeth as she ran past him, disappearing into the streets of Harlow. Although Dahlia was not at all a playful creature, the gesture was completely light-hearted.

Blame the moon.</sub>

[»Rie]

Et tu, Brute?

------

The feeling of teeth grazing over his sleek flank was a sensation that Junius was rather accustomed to: The fact that it was light and not meant to dig into flesh; not meant to injure him is what made the sensation unique for the doberman in that time and place. He stared after her for several seconds, thinking for a moment about what the shar-pei had said, and about her actions. Then, he gave one of his low dark laughs, "Stab me in the back, Black Dahlia?" He murmured into the shadows surrounding him, his lips curling sleekly into a devilish smile. "Perhaps I'd like that, hmm?"

The soft click-clack of his claws sounded against the pavement as Junius trotted forward, then coiling his muscles he darted after the female his jaws pulled into something that looked a mesh between a snarl and a feral grin. Freedom really was a sweet thing, but he rather liked the company better than the freedom itself.

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Sic semper tyrannis!

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