``keep|your|d i s t a n c e, , Rhys

[Natsumi Sayuri]

+ NATSUMI SAYURI +
•••CALL ME RIN•••


My beautiful liar why are you crying on your knees?
You've crucified yourself and now denial is rising...rising...

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This is what hell was: it was the burning sensation of death sniffing about her neck, strangling her with his fingers, whispering hoarsely in her ear. His voice was the sound of her heartbeat, the harsh wind in her ears. she could keep on running, but the Devil named Death would still be part of her, would still linger in her very blood, course through her veins and throb with the delight of the hunt, of the kill. Rin was running, running, but it wasn't simply running anymore. Her heart was in her throat, hammering away as it thrashed and convulsed, fear of herself, yes, yes, herself destroying her control until she was spinning, spinning, the Wolf snarling forward in her head and warping her vision to see red, to see blood; it courted death with it's jaws, with it's panting exhilaration of this run, of this hunt.

Keeping going, death seemed to say, push yourself until you're nothing but the need, but the want -- and it was succeeding, tunneling down into madness as the Wolf ravaged what was left of her hopes, the rest of her dreams. She didn't want anyone to fear her, but here she was, rampaging, her heart on fire, her lungs inflamed with the harsh, burning sensation of breath wheezing into her lungs. Rin was gasping, panting, her black jaws snapping open and closed as the wind whipped through her fur, made queer noises in her ear. It too, mocked her battle. Why not give in?

She had always given in. Why not now, when there was a target in sight, when there was a person out there with the heart pattern she yearned to listen for. There was a woman out there, marking what was hers and hers alone, rubbing herself against a man who belonged to no one but Rin. Yes, yes, the Wolf is salivating, drool parting her lips as the black smear raced through the hallways, racing out of the library -- others paused, mouths agape. Who was this? What was happening? But she was no one they had ever encountered before.

Rin was purely beast, her heart and soul following a tune only the primal howl could make sense of -- so she ran from Luke when she should have stayed, when she should have curled her fingers in his shirt and kept herself from moving. She should have remained in his arms, locked by the strength there and kept herself from this terrible trauma that was about to unravel before everyone's eyes. But she couldn't -- the Wolf would have it's day, and the cunt's judgment had come.

I promised, Rin thinks, pulling back on the Wolf's fur, her fingers tight and grasping, clinging to the back of this rabid animal. I promised, and what are we without our promises? -- but the Wolf didn't care about a simpleminded girl's promise. She didn't care about naivete, or affection. She only cared about pack, and though Luke was pack, though his eyes had told her to stay that she would regret this, the Wolf knew better. Murazar had been pack longer. Her loyalty, cut in two, would always bend toward him, always bend toward his cold dismissive eyes, would always, always, lead her feet toward him, yes, him. Where was she going? Can you guess, can you really not guess where it was this savage animal was going? Pushing through the ranks of crowded students, of sudden, angry teachers, she pulsed with the need to bask in that gaze, to soak up the strength from his steadiness.

He was the cause of all this, let him fix it -- then. Stray scents pulled her though, clogging her nose with distractions that had nothing to do with Murazar. They intertwined about her jaws, about her maw and fangs and throat, seizing her up with their delectable fragility. Death hovered, sniffing about as it wrapped itself around the Wolf, around Rin, who was losing, losing her control. Gone, gone, gone --- and she couldn't build up a wall fast enough before it crumbled beneath the might of the Wolf's rage, the Wolf's audacity. Take him away? Get ready for the truest nature of death: merciless and persistent.

The black wolf moved quickly, no hesitation in her movements as she followed the burning scent she knew so well, the burning scent that had been polluted by another girl, another wolf -- Destroy the invader, the Wolf is snapping it's fangs, ears twitching, shoulders moving, moving, unable to still even while the black hunted, while the black sin, the smear of guilt on a crystalline soul, shivered under the delight of this hunt. Revenge, at last. The girl would die. For sure, for sure.


Her muzzle tilted upward, the need for action sizzling up the tensed lines of shoulder and neck -- she throws her head back and howls, loud and long, vicious and indifferent to those around her. The Wolf was going to have her hunt, now, now --- she runs, her voice an echo that spurs her on. Where is the bitch? Where was she? Her nose lifts up, inhaling the foul stench of students, of rats and cats and dogs; the scent of scales in her nose makes her sneeze but she will not pause long enough for curiosity to take it's toll. Instead she follows the line, not realizing she's following an older trail that will not lead her true. Instead, she arrives in the lounger, her body small in comparison -- but feral and rabid, her eyes knotting with madness, hackles stiffened and raised as she walks, quietly, oh so quietly. Bitch, where are you?

The girl finally smiles, overcome by the victory of the Wolf: would she finally have Mura to herself again?

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word count;; 968
tags;; Rhys
OOC;; New keyboard has a sticky shift key... sorry if some of it isn't in caps... otherwise, yay ^__^ let the madness begin!

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[rhyszacher]

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

... Back off, I’ll take you on...

... Headstrong, I’ll take on anyone...

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The hallways were too crowded for Rhys, he wanted to duck into a room, any room, to get out of the masses. He had just come in from relaxing on the lawns, and was headed towards the cafeteria to grab some food, but at this point he was considering skipping lunch and coming back at a time with less traffic… that was, until a furry black streak raced by him. Some of the students pressed up against the walls to avoid being run down by the wolf, others simply jumped out of the way, but Rhys was simply darted around. He managed to catch a snarl as the dog charged through the hallway; whoever it was, they were furious.

A moment of hesitation, then Rhys took off in a sprint. Just like they did for the wolf, the crowd parted as he came barreling through, and it helped that some of them still hadn’t moved, out of shock. He couldn’t keep up with the wolf, but managed to stay close enough to keep it in sight, so he wouldn’t lose it if it turned into a room. And, sure enough, she suddenly veered off into a room, and Rhys skidded to a halt at the entrance to the lounge.

Softly, he shut the door behind him. The room was empty, save for the two of them. Rhys and the wolf.

He wasn’t standing as he normally did, upright and stiff. Instead, he was lower to the ground, shoulders slumped, leaning slightly forward, cat-like. He wasn’t quite sure what he was doing, but he only felt barely conscious of his actions. For some reason, the cougar had brought him here: he wanted to catch the wolf. It had been running like mad, and the cougar’s instinct to give chase was irresistible. Usually, Rhys was perfectly in control until the sun started to set, but obviously, today was different. Frankly, it scared him, not being able to control his actions even as a human. But, this fear was forced to the back of his mind, and what occupied the larger portion of his thoughts was the wolf.

It hadn’t turned and seen him yet; obviously something else was on its mind. Either way, Rhys wasn’t going to make the first move, he wanted the wolf to do that. His muscles were loose and ready to dodge whatever the wolf would throw at him, or shift, if need be. In his human form, he couldn’t take on a wolf without a weapon… but, there was a chance it wouldn’t attack. In that case… maybe it would shift back to being a human and open the door. That didn’t seem likely, though; it seemed to wild at the moment to be able to shift back. Rhys himself felt too wild to return to thinking rationally… and he wasn’t even the one practically foaming at the mouth.

Word Count: 538

[Natsumi Sayuri]

+ NATSUMI SAYURI +
•••CALL ME RIN•••


My beautiful liar why are you crying on your knees?
You've crucified yourself and now denial is rising...rising...

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Was it even possible to describe the depth of emotion, as complex and feral as it was, that rendered Rin into a beast? Was it possible to use these human words to describe something that wasn't human at all: she was vitality, she was strength, loyalty -- but all of these things have a darker side, a nefarious, broken facet of self, that squirmed beneath the shiny polished surface. Loyal, like a dog. In love, like a woman. Strong, heart and mind and body bending themselves into physical and emotional prowess: she sizzled with energy, but when those things were tinged by the need to dominate, the need to protect the pack, they ran rampant, they broke free of their pretty shiny casings and were nothing good but shadows of a lost emotion.

It was how she would face Rhys, when she would realize he was here. It was how she would face her shame, and her guilt. In darkness she had murdered brother, sister, even the self had deteriorated under the maddening red haze of the Wolf's possessiveness. what was the self when it was alone? When it had no one beside it? Trash -- would she be trash then? Be garbage and leave the pretty morals behind her, rubbing all that sludge across her fingers, her face, her neck, covering herself until she was no longer Rin, no longer anything that could be spoken to. She was wild, and free - untempered, and furious with it.

Rushing forward, she had charged, looking to satiate the self which had pined for the Murazar of her heart: the one who would choose her, because that is what Family did. Family didn't abandon each other. Imagine this hurt, then, that she felt, soul-deep and destructive. The Wolf was here, the Wolf was furious -- it's nose sniffing through the old trails, melting at the smell she had adored, the smell that meant safety to her: home, splendid and feral. Cold and burning -- like ice, like the very waters which had almost meant her death. But she had learned to count on that scent, to find it in the deepest recesses of her memory and clamber into his study, into his classroom as if she were a younger sister. This jealousy spoke of deeper emotions; this hell which opened up before her eyes in red, in the flames beneath her paws, in the heat which choked the very life from her bones, spoke of a complex relationship -- a need for him that surpassed lovers. Obsessed with the thought of him, the steadiness he represented, she blinded herself to anyone else, was infuriated with those who came too close.

---------------- and that's exactly what Etta had done. Wolfish, perhaps, to invade another's territory, but that didn't mean Rin was going to give her the benefit of the doubt; it didn't mean that the Wolf was going to approve of this blatant hostility. Mura was hers -- and no one else's; muzzle ripping open, she snarled, pacing, pacing, her head whipping around as a newer, burning scent brought her forward. Zeta? the girl thinks, buried somewhere beneath the insanity; somewhere where rationality still held a slight hold -- but there was nothing female about the brute before her. Zeta had been a toy to be used, a toy to be abused and discarded, though the she-cat had thought herself superior. Zeta had failed in dominating the Wolf; what did this cat want? She snorted then, her eyes flashing black, deep; menace rippled through her shoulders as her hackles stiffened, as tail rose, as everything human began to die, die -- fight? You want to fight this? She rumbles out a growl, her lips pulling back to bare pale, sharp incisors: the black scum of her gums contrast starkly against the vivid white.

Her tail swishes, once, twice, rising up haughtily as she takes a few steps forward, staring into the human's eyes, no, no, the cat's eyes -- seeing something bestial within responding to her, reacting to her. Satisfaction made her eyes sparkle, made her bones seem to melt as she stalked sideways, her ears pinned back against her skull, her eyes narrowed, deep furrows in her face where skin wrinkled in a fierce scowl. Tame her? Beware, beware, she's come, the black and blue, the monstrous declaration, looking for your blood, any blood -- he's caught her attention now, now, and all thoughts of her hunt fade with the immediacy of this battle, this beautiful....glorious... battle.

The black slips forward, no patience left, nothing left but the blank mind, the need to simply move, to kill; she was an experienced fighter, but all that experience died the moment she stepped into this room, the moment she thought the bitch was close. Instead there was him and though she was outmatched, it never occurred to her; instead she launches herself, her body coiling, coiling, releasing as she nearly flies, jaws open, seeking the tender flesh of shoulder and neck: her favorite spot. So delectable and tender, it ticked, ticked ticked, begging to be opened, begging, pleading, whispering in her each with every delicious beat of his heart, to be sliced and chewed, to be mauled and devoured. That pulse wanted to be free, and Rin would be here to taste it on her tongue. She runs, she jumps, and she aims for that perfect spot, that favorite spot, her mind blanking out, as her emotions surge forward and blind her to her idiocy.

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word count;; 921
tags;; Rhys
Move;; Rin paces around to his side, then jumps at his neck, looking to bite into it.
OOC;; hell yeahhhh ^-^ Rin is so stupid C: it's adorable, really lol

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[rhyszacher]

It was while the wolf made her intimidating approach that a low, guttural growl arose in Rhys’ throat. It was a noise he didn’t know a human was even capable of making, but somehow, the cougar had managed to release it. There was so much he didn’t know about the cougar, about himself… but, as his throat reverberated with the growl, he slowly realized that it was a warning. A warning that this maddened wolf wouldn’t heed, but something inside him felt it was necessary, just as something inside him made him chase after the wolf. But, he didn’t have much time to ponder it, since the wolf was about to strike.

Sure enough, she dove, precise, quick, strong, but committing too much to the attack. Rhys immediately dodged the incoming jaws. As soon as he saw them open he was on his toes. He leapt forward, then quickly turned so his back would not be to the animal, and hoped that by avoiding the attack she would be set off balance. But, this was the cougar’s movements; Rhys would not know how to handle a wolf if he were fully in control.

For a moment, Rhys thought he had connected the dots. He had been resisting shifting into the cougar, because he didn’t want to lose control of himself. But, he could feel the cougar, so closely, and he sensed no bloodlust. In fact, from the way he was acting, warning her, and trapping her in a room with him, it seemed like the intentions were entirely different. This wolf was a shifter, after all; there was some human in her somewhere.

His mind raced with this thought: what if the cougar wanted not only to fight her, but to protect her? If she had gotten a hold of someone before Rhys trapped her, who knows what would have happened to her, and her victim. If this was true, he had judged his other half all wrong. Maybe he was in more control than he thought…

All this thinking was very brief, and once he was done, he finally stopped resisting the shift. The big cat was free, and without any hesitation he pounced towards the wolf, aiming to sink his claws into her back.

Rhys noticed how he had not wanted to go for the neck. That was the way he killed prey, but here, he was not aiming to kill. If he lost, however, it would be the end of him, since her goal was entirely different than his.

Word Count: 431

[Natsumi Sayuri]

+ NATSUMI SAYURI +
•••CALL ME RIN•••


My beautiful liar why are you crying on your knees?
You've crucified yourself and now denial is rising...rising...

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So different from usual this fight, this battle of senses, of flesh -- teeth flashed bright, but it was the heart which burned brightest. To him, to this faceless, nameless man, this person Rin would never remember, would never care to remember, what was she but an idiot who lost control? What was she but a puppet cut from it's strings and spiraling down to the floor unable to twist and move, unable to do anything but attack and attack. He didn't take her seriously and it would be the end, but then, there was Rin in corner two, aching to circle, aching to live, to love, to breathe without looking over her shoulder. She simply wanted to be -- who fought for the better reasons? Who struggled in this world and came out the victor because it was right? Because it was the justifiable thing to do? When wolves and cats clash, there will be blood, there will be violence; when two human souls collide in one sticky mess of inner turmoil -- does anyone ever win?

Rin is unhappy, but she is also in hiding, slipping beneath the rippling tides of the Wolf's madness. One is just as good as the other -- and it is a horrible thought, a meaningless thought -- at once cruel and terrible: a new side of the Wolf that Rin had never known. Instead of fire, this is purgatory, flaming under her feet.

She had flown, her body casting itself to fate, to the luck of the throw, the luck which slipped beneath her paws and gave her weight, gave her victory; instead, she found blankness awaiting her. The world spun as she landed, her paws slipping on the wooden floor, unable to find the perfect grip, unable to change herself, to move herself -- the Wolf snarls, the black maw slipping back to reveal it's fangs as she whips around, but she is not fast enough, her mind too fogged by emotion, unable to tell reality from dream.

The illusion fulfills it's path as the giant cat lands on her --she is small, so small in comparison to all that bulk and madness, to those fangs and claws which rip into her back, claw down the length as she surges forward. Blood breaks free, and she smells it, knows it -- it maddens her to think she will be hurt, to think that this creature, this terrible, terrible man could become something stronger than her. She will not give up, and the Wolf is persistent, even with the scent of it's blood clogging up her nose: blood and cat, a terrible mixture as she sneezes, as his weight brings her down. He is too heavy for her, too big for her, but she will not give up, not yet, not so quick this battle.

Not yet at all -- and she twists though it is agony, though her skin is ripping like cloth beneath those curved claws, her fangs seeking paw, seeking arm -- anything to stop the pain, anything to get between her jaws. The Wolf is no longer thinking, no longer reacting: like a brute gone mad, she is tasting her insanity on her tongue as fiercely as the scent of her own blood. She twists and struggles but it is like watching a dog gone mad -- no purpose but the lashing out of a creature not ready to be put down. she struggles for her life, knowing this could not be end, not yet, please, god, not yet -- and her jaws struggle to close around something, anything, as the thunderous growl reverberates up her chest, unfurling like wings through the roof of her mouth. The Wolf will not back down, even with this pain, with this impossibility looming before her. He had got her, but she will not think of it.

Instead, she struggles beneath the weight, unable to stop moving even if she had wished, even if she had known she would not die. Blood drips down onto the floor, marring the wood, making it slippery for wolf pads, with claws that slip and slide, making it all the worse for her struggles. No, not yet -- and the girl buries her face in her hands, hiding from the Wolf, from the cat, from the burning thought of the boy's eyes. This isn't right! --- the Wolf cannot cry, but the girl screams out in her heart, unheard but still agonizing. The Wolf howls.

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word count;; 751
tags;; Rhys
Move;; She falls beneath him, much slighter than he is and twists, trying to bite his paw to get him off. Otherwise, she is caught.
OOC;; hey sorry for the delay! ^-^ My muse is backkk!

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[rhyszacher]

Rhys kept his paws out of her reach as he pulled them towards her flank, ripping through skin and fur as he did. He didn’t get very far before he decided to retract his claws and release the wolf. As he jumped off of her back, he let out a fierce snarl in response to her howl. Even though she was wounded, Rhys was still on his guard; he didn’t turn his back to her for a second, and was still prepared for another attack. The wounds he inflicted could prove fatal if they were allowed to bleed out, and the human portion of Rhys was concerned about this, while the cougar was preoccupied with staying on guard, staying alive. He took several steps backwards, getting some space between him and the struggling wolf, and after only a few steps, his back paw landed on some sort of cloth. He quickly glanced to see what it was, not wanting to take his eyes off the wolf for very long.

His shirt was on the ground, torn at the back, with the sleeves completely destroyed. His jeans were on the ground as well, in tatters; he would be frustrated about that later… but for now, maybe he could make the best of it.

He stepped off of the ripped shirt, and turned his gaze back to the wolf. He couldn’t predict her next move, and chances were she wouldn’t know what it would be either. The two most likely options seemed to be either, she would pass out due to exhaustion or blood loss, or strike once again. Rhys was ready for either. If she were to faint, he would probably shift back to a human, if the cat’s adrenaline would allow it, and bandage what he could with the shirt. If she were to leap at him again, more blood loss. It was only a matter of time before she’d need to succumb to her body’s needs, and stop.

Fight or flight… In this case, it was undoubtedly the instinct to fight that was telling her to act. Did she even have a flight instinct? If it were him on the losing end, and trapped inside a room with his opponent, he would most likely take on a submissive stance, or play dead, or… well anything really, but continue to fight a losing battle. The cat was intrigued by the will of the wolf, and wanted to fight more, but Rhys was more worried about causing the death of a fellow student… He had gotten this far without murdering anyone, and he intended to make it much farther before someone died by his… paws.

Word Count: 478

[Natsumi Sayuri]

+ NATSUMI SAYURI +
•••CALL ME RIN•••


My beautiful liar why are you crying on your knees?
You've crucified yourself and now denial is rising...rising...

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[/CENTER]

What was this need inside of her? This disastrous will to keep on moving, to keep on fighting? Do not back down -- and it is the Wolf that is thinking, feeling, her determination metallic on her tongue, smeared with blood, her blood. How foolish this recklessness, this need to throw herself again and again, to beat herself against a wall she could not jump over. Instead, she cracked her skull against it, over and over, repeatedly bruising, destroying. Never give in, never give up -- this was life, feral, monstrous life. She had gone on without losing, so long, too long; her ego had grown fat, her desires rendering her fever insatiable.

She would stand and stand again: desperation carved itself in her eyes, pitiless, merciless, ruthless: even now, defeated by a cool head, destroyed by her own noxious anger. Better to be dead -- this pride suffocated her, strangled her. She would rather be dead than continue to lie on the ground as if she were some roadkill. Better dead than prey -- better dead, than this terrible knot of betrayal which wound around the girl's heart.

Rin had disappeared beneath the ominous fury of the Wolf, and she was consumed. Pain did not release her from the cage, knowledge of her own demise didn't undo the lock: there was nothing, but this madness, this feral need, this rabid, ungracious craving to lash out at the world. He had her, so easily, with his bulk pushing her down, with his claws drawing tantalizing wounds on her back as if she were a lover and his claws a tender touch. She arched against it, feeling the warmth and heat coalesce into vivid imagery of death before her eyes. She dreamed, she imagined, the insatiable fury opening it's hungry maw -- vicious fangs were glimpsed beneath her black gums, her black lips: she was black on black, her eyes round and gleaming, shimmering with the utter demolition of thought.

No longer was she human: no longer was she even an animal. Rin and Wolf were no more-- they were simply the blood lust, simply bleeding freely, without care, without worry, eyes drawn in bright circles fevered and clouded. What did she see when she staggered to the side, when her claws ticked against the floor, her heart hammering in her throat? She felt the blood oozing through her fur, felt it slip down her flanks. Too much blood -- what had he done to her? She did not know, did not even care. This was better than the pain she could not reach: better physicality than emotional turmoil.

So the Wolf, so the Girl, covered in chains, in leashes and collars, broken by the very thing they had ached to escape, gave in to the blood lust, maddened by the desire to flee, to run away from the hurt of the heart. The cat ticked it's tail, his eyes betrayed his humanity -- but there was nothing left in Rin to talk to, nothing left to reason with. She was depravity, she was a broken mirror reflected the catastrophe within. The storm which had been brewing had broken out, and he had been right to trap her here, to keep her here while his claws extricated the poison, as she bled and bled, her eyes fever-bright and insane. Never back down --- silence, not even a snarl, not even a growl, a howl, a grunt. Nothing but the silence as she gathered herself, as she felt about for the strength she still possessed. Back down? Never, no, no not yet, not ever. Let this end, finally, finally -- and though she was outmatched in size and weight, though her opponent was clear-eyed and waiting, though he was superior to her, she would not let it go. Like a bone between her jaws, she would worry it until the marrow spilled across her tongue.

Once more, her jaws opened, tongue lolling as she panted, as the exhaustion dug it's claws deeper than the wounds which opened up her back. A whispered thought of the girl: What will Mura think? -- but it is the wrong thought, and it unleashes the maelstrom. Foolishly, stupidly, she launches herself again, uncaring for finesse, uncaring for the wounds which pulled at her, at the old wound which had only recently healed. She did not care, but stared into those terrible green eyes, and felt desperation. End this, please, please.

Her heart thrashes, unable to quiet.

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word count;; 752
tags;; Rhys
Move;; Turns around and jumps at him again.
OOC;; I give you permission to take her down x3 powerplay the hell out of it if you want ^-^' she deserves it lol

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