Blackberry Fields birth.

He woke.

The world is a blurry mess beyond the new vision he harbors, trying to focus on the plane which he had fallen to. Earth was the essence of his desires, where corruption bloomed like weeds and roaches. He lays still in his position, along what is assumed to be his side. The tall grasses tickle with his hair that he learns quickly to be fur and as he gazes upon himself, a mass of black and silver to be held. The mid-day is warm, refreshing on him and the skies patchy with cloud and bright. For all he could recall, he was a demon smashed into the body of a beast at the will of his Master, at the will of Lucifer himself. Another test, another way to weed out the good from evil and allow the evil to rise above.

Hours pass. There had once been a live and kicking wolf within this body before, though the more powerful survived and the demon prevailed. His body is still, as though barely alive in it's state, though his mind wonders wildly: memories were vague to the demon, memories of which the wolf who once lived within this body held. He knows nothing of his past nor where he had came from. Knows nothing of family or names or friends. The demon simply knows this- instinct. He knew of what it meant to survive on this world in the wild. He took to reading what chapters were left behind and learned of what it meant to be a wolf: to sniff, to scavenge, to piss, to eat and having to hunt what you eat. Bits and pieces came firstly in rain drops before a flood took over, allowing his to know exactly what he needed. ...He was ready.

The demon rose anew, lifting off the ground in one solid movement until he is on all fours and shaking out his coat in a manner which came natural to him. This was rebirth. This was a new start in a new life. His body moves and shifts, arching and stretching as he tests the body he has been given. A wolf was a powerful predator by far, king in the canine world and he smirks to the very thoughts of what he might accomplish with it. And what name might they call this vessel? What word might they scream in the wake of his terror? "Beelzebub." The first word's he speak sooth from his lips, his tongue rolling along the length of large canines. It is one of the various names of his father and he would take it for use in honor of him.

Now...where to begin?

(This post was last modified: Apr 25, 2013, 12:17 AM by Beelzebub.)

The world was wrapped around in silence, where once words spilled forth there was now an utter nothingness. A void deprived of meaningful conversation and rambling words, a void deprived also of nature’s playful sounds. Where the golden male walked only his undying shadow followed inside his tracks, sometimes changing directions as the sun reflected his image upon the ground. To this place life had taken him into the blackberry fields that greeted his senses with an aroma of sweet fruits. Still with no appetite or lust to plunge into nature’s treasures that grew there, ready for the taking.

Chetan’s interest had wandered back and forth between a deep yearning for exploration or to learn more about his lost brother’s whereabouts. The earth was as secretive as complex, not giving away any hints for free. He had searched for long hours, sweet days and passing weeks until many markings of months would come to pass. He was like a ghost forever haunting the object of his interest and desire. He cared not for fortune and fame that others lived for ..or died trying. He didn’t want to be crowned king of a pack or follow it like a mass of sheep. At the moment he enjoyed his bachelor days and life of a lone wolf, despite the solitude and challenges it provided.

Still the world was not a lonely place, not even for wandering wolves who yearned not for the company of others. Every now and then he would come face to face with wolves. They were greeted with a mask of neutrality; he would not avoid them but not provide entertainment as a social butterfly. So while he walked known paths his curiosity drove him to meet and greet Beelzebub. Of course overhearing only the last gust of word that spread from Beelzebub’s leathery lips, causing Chetan to pick up only one word ‘butt’. Or perhaps that was on purpose the only word he wanted to hear.

With a neutral approach Chetan closed the gap between himself and the dark wolf until there was a safe space of only three wolves fitting in between them. His golden eyes lingered upon the chest of the other male with a hungrily interest while his tail was kept neutral. His ears pivoted upwards while he wondered if any more words would be said. Chetan didn’t talk this once, he kept quiet. Quiet to see and hear what the other would say – for once a cat got his tongue.

(This post was last modified: Apr 25, 2013, 07:13 PM by Chetan.)

Thank-you Jess/Sagacity for the profile & the avatars <3

Sounds stirred within his ears, which twitched and moved towards them. There was a rustling on leaves and grasses with the wind. There was the chirping of birds and the clicks of rodent which were heard differently with these ears but nothing he had not none the less heard before. Earth was by no means new to him. It was his playground....Now, another noise takes him. The sounds of earth crunching under pressure, the breath of another which matched the breath of his own. In time, eyes would meet to view the creature he heard, taking note of another wolf, the first he had laid eyes upon in this new form he wore. A smirk takes him, taking in the features of the man: his structure, his colors, the way he approached without simple care and, came to stand before himself as though expecting something of him in his silence.

Did Beelzebub know this wolf? Had this been a pack mate, a friend, a servant of his by the way he stood as though awaiting command? Had he been any of this, he had been to the wolf who once dwelt within this body and who was no more. This guy didn't mean shit to the demon.

The silence stirs on, Beelz simply examining all of what was around the wolf and all of him the same. He was still testing what he knew of himself and getting comfortable. Beelzebub steps forth, and again. His steps are slow though without hesitance as they make way, though stopping quickly enough to keep some distance between him and the other wolf, perhaps but three feet had the other fellow not taken opportunity to move. The black and silver beast's ears remained perk to listen, his tail limp behind him, short and grazing at his hocks. A way of manipulative words had once been his way of pushing the damned to their purpose, though this remained lost with him for the time being. He craved to test the power of the body which he now held, an excitement in having form taking over.

In seconds and without little to warn the other wolf, Beelzebub lunges forth. As though with instinct, his ears fall back and his eyes narrow as jaws open wide with the lung. His attempt is to the man's face, to slash at it, to snag onto fur and flesh with a wild desire without meaning of why. He craved only disruption and did as he must to fulfill it.

(This post was last modified: Apr 25, 2013, 10:23 PM by Beelzebub.)

I liked your character's reaction with an interesting twist and turn ;-)

The other male did not give the impression that he was here to indulge in pleasant conversations. That was alright though, Chetan was not here to play a social butterfly, it was a dangerous curiosity which catered his fascination. Trust was hard to come by and the golden male remained watchful, alert and cautious around others, ‘Butt’ was no exception. Barking dogs don’t bite, it was the quiet dogs one had to watch out. Without being able to analyze motivations, thoughts or body language he stepped by closer and closer. Every time Butt stepped forward Chetan moved backwards, thus keeping the gap between the two wolves at about the same size; or at least he tried to.

His ears swept backwards and his senses became more alert because Butt’s movement became unpredictable. His ears were pulled backwards and the thick hairs in his neck rose like sharp little spikes, making the impression of a fierce lion. Lightning seconds later he was, without any good reason, attacked by the other wolf. Not fearful of a good scuffle, Chetan was not the one to back down or flee; especially not because upholding the gap meant a disadvantage as far as the element of surprise. He could see Butts attack coming and even though he could not escape unharmed, he had precious seconds of time to pull away his face and allow the strong, muscular tissue in his shoulder to be touched instead like a shield. He fell teeth sinking into his shoulder, cutting through raw flesh and drawing blood.

Immediately more alert by the shots of adrenaline rushing through his body, Chetan allowed a ferocious snarl to rip through the edges of his throat before starting his own counter attack. This time he aimed for the soft neck tissue of Butt, if only to throw the male off guard and ward off the attacker. Feeling the beast in him rising, Chetan was also suddenly out to draw blood.

Thank-you Jess/Sagacity for the profile & the avatars <3

thank you! <3

In time they danced with one another: the other wolf backing up as the demon approached further towards him, each of his own steps of slight black paws echoed back by the larger footing of the wolf before him. Quickly, their steps turned to charges and the moment Beelzebub's teeth sank into flesh he was left with little time for a victory dance. The male countered, snagging at the fur and flesh of his upper neck just along the space of his ear and jaw line. The sheer power and weight of the beast sends his head sinking from the blow, his grip on the male's shoulder giving as he is forced to slip downward before the other male.

With a wrinkling of his nose, taking in the man's scent so strong as his muzzle had been burrowed within the timber male's fur and skin, he learned that he was younger then himself. Younger and yet was larger by far, stronger with a brute force that sent Beelzebub reeling from the blow. An obvious disappointment came over the demon, wishing he had been placed into the body of a much larger individual, though took it in stride and worked to manipulate which he had in the best way that he possibly could. It was yet another challenge to be tasked with, not only without power and trapped inside the being of a mortal animal, but average at best in near all aspect. Beelzebub needed to prove himself....and he would.

Unwilling to back down so easily despite the fact that he could have easily been bested in girth, Beelzebub strikes out again. A foolish move for a wolf to make, a risk of serious injury that would not have otherwise been taken by a rogue who was once with sense. But the demon knew little of such care or caution and attacked without regard. Beelzebub having been lowered by Chetan's blow, offers one last surge of energy, pushing forward and up with the intent to seek from under his opponent's muzzle and clamp down directly upon his windpipe in order to force submission from him. Of course, Chetan having formally gotten a hold of his neck, this caused what grip he had to tear away with Beelzebub's hard tug forward for attack and thus, injuring himself further. Fur and skin ripped away from him, leaving a bloody gash in it's wake.

Beyond the pain, the demon sought only victory, and he had gained it. With or without Chetan's submission (though perhaps he may die in Beelzebub's jaws should he not cull submitting) Beelzebub had successfully dealt his first bit of mischief in this world and best of all, pulling a bit of hidden beast out of the male before him in the process. Beelzebub would turn them all to the right path if he could or they would quake in the aftermath of their objection.

The dangerous sin of pride came before downfall. Before this fight Chetan’s ego had only been bruised by one person in this world, his brother. He believed that while there was one who could be stronger than him, better than him, nothing other could bestow harm within his world. He often thought himself of the ultimate Iron Man. Today – this moment – a flawed mistake would mean the difference between victory and a painful downfall. And while the young golden sentinel might not have liked what happened next – his writer certainly did – as it was a different turn and twist of events (thank you Vami!).

Without further adieu the male had been drawn into the element of the battle while the fierceness inside his heart rose. He wanted to fight and better yet, he wanted to win. Teeth pulled merciless in tender flesh which gave him an endless hunger and craving for more. This wasn’t over yet, it had only started. His eyes began to flash aggressively while his tail swayed from left to right like an unpredictable serpent, ready to strike at any given moment. His paws were humbly dancing to the tune of the fight while from the depths of his throat a thunderous snarl rose, cutting through the deafening silence.

However while the young and rather inexperienced male had solely focused upon tearing up more of the tender neck issue as if craving for more blood like a vampire he had not been paying enough attention to his defenses or make preparations for a counter attack. Too caught up within the heat of the warzone, Chetan failed to noticed the second strike of the ebony male who snapped at him like a demon unleashed. Feeling a dangerous snap so close to his lifeline and flesh cutting close to his windpipe, he could not do anything other than to submit to the moment. Disappointment swelled while the titan bowed down into submission with an unexpected yelp. His ears flattened and his body posture changed accordingly. There were no words shared and any glance of the other victorious wolf was not given as his eyes were where they belonged, upon the ground. Today Chetan was not only physically bruised but his eager was torn down as well. He was no superhero only a regular, mortal wolf. A powerful lesson learned.

Thank-you Jess/Sagacity for the profile & the avatars <3

do i sense a new turning point in chetan's life? :3

Large, strong, youthful and yet, with much to learn was the boy defeated before him now. Centuries upon centuries through the times Beelzebub had lived and he had conquered time and time again. Though the form he held was weak in many aspects in comparison, the strength of a wolf was none the less a powerful thing. Though the demon only newly wore this flesh, the wolf which once lived within it was no amateur to the battle field and the tactic amongst it. The demon wore this skin with a new found pride, obvious about the crooked sneer which held his expression now and his tail, dancing back and forth through the sky with victory.

The youth shriveled in submission before him and Beelzebub took a moment to lick him lips before offering one last burst forth, offering a quick snap aimed to the man's flank in warning to allow him to understand his place, more certainly under the feet and in the dirt of the demon which had placed him there. Pride, mocking and childish, the black and silvery patched wolf pranced, making way around the other of light natural earthen color. He pranced with a glee and in it, feeling still the new body he held, turning the muscles and pulling at the joints. The rush he had from the fight had ended as quickly as it had begun, though the taste of metallic liquid still left him with pleasure as his tongue edged around his jawline.

He stops short only when he is done with his victory dance, made sure to allow the other not to forget this moment as the demon would not. Already, his first day was playing out quite nicely. Studying the younger male now as he had stopped face-to-face with him once more, Beelzebub is left to wonder 'Now what?' He was finished with this wolf's company, was he not? But first..."Beelzebub..." Coos the name once more, his voice musical and light as the laugh which followed. He would make sure his name would be known and his deeds more so.