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Post by Ruby Gray on Dec 15, 2013 17:09:28 GMT -5
it's in your eyes, a color fade out LOOKS LIKE A NEW TRANSITION, THE STARTING UP AND SHAKING YOUR GROUND. TURNING YOUR HEAD TO SEE A NEW DAY CALLING
There were several things wrong when Ruby's eyes blinked back the final visages of sleep. A pounding migraine ripping through her skull with the potency of a freight train. Her entire body was sore, every muscle hurt like she had been in some raging war of blood and malice and the condition of her body was the aftermath of such potent strain. She groaned, but no sound of minor discomfort escaped her, it was rather a low almost inaudible whine and golden eyes snapped open. She was suddenly acutely aware that she bore four legs instead of two.
She bristled, anticipating the clawing, the fight for dominant control of her body... but there was nothing, not even the faintest whisper of a growl. She could feel the wolfs instincts still permeating inside of her, but they were no longer intelligent, unable to do much more than guide her with what a real wolf could do... Ruby panicked, that shouldn't be possible. A werewolf was an intelligent, capable creature, completely able to care for itself. It didn't resort to bestial functions unless the purpose was to destroy an enemy, something was wrong. Horribly, terribly, disproportionately wrong. She rose and her heart rate doubled as she realized how tiny she was, in comparrison to her usual change, and wanting no more of this confusion, she attempted to shift, to change back into her more human resemblance and found she couldn't. She was trapped inside this meager form of a common wolf. Panic clawed at the fringes of her mind, and golden eyes spun wildly now, trying to identify where she was.
This mansion was unfamiliar, things of finery and riches, items that she had never seen before, she tested the air and while Dorian's scent was faint but obviously all about the place, nothing else was familiar, claws ticked against the tile as the wolf retreated, fearful and confused eyes darting about the room confused and anxious, where... where in Gods name was she? Footsteps reached her and an elder gentleman rounded the corner a shiny black device held securely in his palm, he lifted it towards her and she had enough intelligence to leap out of the way as an ear splitting, soul shattering bang shattered the sound barrier and the scent of gunpowder permeated her senses. A small black ball embedded itself in the mortar and plaster of the home as she lept behind the divan, claws straining to keep her from skidding across the slick tile. Rough and high pitched barks ripped from her vocal cords, what were these weapons? What was this place? What was she supposed to do? Ruby was petrified.
talking talking talking
does it feel like a head to lean on? A SNAPSHOT FROM WHERE YOU BORN. I'M LOOKING FOR YOUR HAND IN THE ROUGH, YOU'RE CAUGHT IN THE WIRE. WELL I'LL LIFT YOU OUT
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Post by Dorian Gray on Dec 15, 2013 20:06:08 GMT -5
He knew this place. This was a familiar surrounding but it was not his mansion in Aledon, and Dorian was confused by this revelation. This was... his house? In Victorian London? He was worried. Did this mean that Ruby--his wife--wasn't here? What was this? There were far more questions than answers and it looked like Dorian was going to have to figure out for himself what was going on around here. A sudden thought ran through his already-frazzled mind and he was paralyzed wondering if Lord Henry was still around here. Damn. That was absolutely the last person he wanted to see right now... Especially with Ruby no more right beside him. What was he going to do?
He looked around. This was his bedroom. White everything, his favorite color. He mindlessly drifted to thinking of his painting, if it had come with him too. He hated that damned thing. He looked about and tried to figure out something, anyth---a shot was fired. He didn't know by whom and at whom but Dorian knew he couldn't have this in his home. He bolted out and to where the shot had come from, knowing this house well.
It sounded like the living room, so that was where he headed. When Dorian had reached the bottom of the stairs, he saw Victor there and frowned. "What are you doing? What on Earth?" The servant looked at him with an expression of mixed fear and worry, but didn't speak. Dorian moved to where he could see what Victor was looking at, and was stopped cold. It was a wolf. It wasn't Ruby's wolf, but there was something familiar in its eyes and he furrowed his brow at the image. For several seconds, he locked eyes with the creatures, and finally whispered, "Ruby?" He didn't understand. If this was Ruby, why was she a small timberwolf now? And why hadn't she changed back to a human? He moved toward the creature, unafraid and mesmerized. Kneeling, he stroked her head.
[/size][/blockquote] Thread Images by Flik; Lyrics by the talented Keith Harkin
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Post by Ruby Gray on Dec 15, 2013 20:36:23 GMT -5
it's in your eyes, a color fade out LOOKS LIKE A NEW TRANSITION, THE STARTING UP AND SHAKING YOUR GROUND. TURNING YOUR HEAD TO SEE A NEW DAY CALLING
She could hear the sounds of something being rearranged with whatever that machine was. What purgatory had she found herself in that possessed such advanced technology? Teeth barred, but unwilling to escape from behind her place of cover, she barked, high pitched and menacingly, she wasn't sure if this small, fragmented form could do much damage and she had no idea what other kind of weaponry the man might have. For all she knew she was powerless here, completely and utterly hopeless. She could smell the mans fear... she had scared him? She wasn't the one shooting...whatever in God's name that thing was!
The first familiar sight came in the form of her husband nearly flying down the stairs and she could have cried in relief had she still possessed the capability, he looked first to his servant and then to her. She could see the uneasy fear in his eyes as he starred at her and suddenly her heart sank. What if he didn't recognize her? What if he didn't understand, she couldn't talk to him, couldn't shift, possessed no skills or talents of telepathy... He spoke her name and silent wonderment filled his eyes. Relief flooded her, tail wagging slowly behind her as slowly she padded out from behind the divan. He knelt before her, reaching for the top of her head and she smiled a wolfish grin, tongue lapping at his fingers as she tried her best to confirm his question, tail skittering back and forth across the tile.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw the servant raise the weapon and with a frightened whimper, hopped forward, coiling between Dorian's legs, ears resting back against her skull and tucking her head beneath Dorian's chin whimpering softly, golden eyes trained on the servant who still seemed absolutely petrified. He looked so similar to the Victor that had known her back in Aledon but he wasn't the same and Ruby couldn't protect Dorian right now, hell she couldn't even protect herself. She was simply remarkably terrified.
talking talking talking
does it feel like a head to lean on? A SNAPSHOT FROM WHERE YOU BORN. I'M LOOKING FOR YOUR HAND IN THE ROUGH, YOU'RE CAUGHT IN THE WIRE. WELL I'LL LIFT YOU OUT
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Post by Dorian Gray on Dec 15, 2013 21:17:29 GMT -5
Dorian was utterly lost when he woke up in a familiar and yet entirely new place. Knowing that it wasn't Aledon was an unsettling thought but this was his real home. The one he had known before. He had been interrupted in his thinking just as he had begun to ponder what would become of his soul and his painting in this place. Back to the curse? Back to falling inevitably under the influence of Lord Henry Wotton? Back to facing that there was a grave nearby that had Basil's name written on its stone? He didn't want to face that reality anymore. He had successfully escaped it, and he even had a wife that he felt a love for that he never would have dreamed. Why did he have to return? And why were shots being fired in his house? He had run as fast as he could to the parlor to see a terrifying sight.
He stopped the servant, who clearly didn't understand the significance of the wolf, and set his sights upon proving that this was Ruby in front of him. If the animal's reactions to the name were something to go by, it was her. And those eyes... they were hers. They had to be hers. He stroked her gently and demanded of his servant that he put down the gun. "Victor, return to your duties. This is not your place. Begone!" And then it was no more.
He stood and beckoned that the wolf follow him once they were alone again.
He took her to the kitchen and gave her what he could to eat and drink, though animals were not creatures he understood. Now he had to figure out why she was like this, why she could not change back to her human self. He trailed up to the attic, taking the key that hung always around his neck to open the door. And as he went inside, afraid of what could be waiting there for him, he looked around. There it was, but it was covered. That damned painting. He moved to it and struck the sheet from it with little hesitation, staring with disdain and amaze at what was there that shouldn't have been. He turned to the wolf. "My God, Ruby. How....?" She was right there, in the painting. Right beside the thing his soul had become.
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Post by Ruby Gray on Dec 15, 2013 22:23:05 GMT -5
it's in your eyes, a color fade out LOOKS LIKE A NEW TRANSITION, THE STARTING UP AND SHAKING YOUR GROUND. TURNING YOUR HEAD TO SEE A NEW DAY CALLING
Ruby cowered, hiding. The predator had now become prey or so it had seemed. She was fairly certain she was large for a timber wolf, adequate protection in her world but not here, not in this world of uncertainties, where she knew nothing, was accustomed to nothing. Dorian was fast to vouch for her, protecting her even in this form that she wasn't sure she could ever get out of and as soon as the servant was gone, he beckoned her to follow him. She did so with perfect obedience, languid body trotting calmly at his heels, at least, while Dorian was near, she knew she was safe and protected. He wouldn't let her die.
He offered her food and drink and she ate minimally, drinking only her mild fill. She was too nervous, too anxious. He looked at her worriedly and delicately she rose to her hind legs, stretching out her front paws to rest just shy of his collarbones, extending her neck, she was able to place the most gentle of kisses to the underside of his chin. A quick glide of her tongue, the only comfort she could give him in this form. She stepped down nudging her head beneath the palm of his hand, feeling more at ease when he was touching her, but then he was walking away and a combination of fear and loyalty bade her to trot right next to him.
He pulled the same key he had used in his study a thousand times to open the door to a room she had never been in and for a moment she hesitated. She knew about that portrait but he never liked her near it, but a quick glance up at her lover told her that he didn't rightly care and nudging the door shut behind them and pawing at the lock to make sure no one else entered, she darted after him. The painting resting in an isolated corner, covered entirely and hidden away. He glared at it and wisely she gave him his space, but when he ripped away the covering she froze. Eyes glued to her frail form in the portrait, her body was a mirror image of Dorian's own and his wretched soul clawed at her being within the painting. Fingers thick and dripping maggots touched her arms, shoulders, face, and never once did the version of herself even flinch, only seeming to look at the grotesque image with the same loving adoration that she usually looked at her Dori with.
"I am immortal now? How am I in your painting?"
[/b] She let out a startled yelp as she realized that it was actually speech that came from her vocal cords and not a bark. She could speak? Did this have something to do with the painting and proximity? Did it matter? She needed to speak before she couldn't. "Dori what's happened? Where are we? What is this place? I can't change back. I can't shift."talking talking talking[/size][/font][/blockquote][/blockquote] does it feel like a head to lean on? A SNAPSHOT FROM WHERE YOU BORN. I'M LOOKING FOR YOUR HAND IN THE ROUGH, YOU'RE CAUGHT IN THE WIRE. WELL I'LL LIFT YOU OUT
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Post by Dorian Gray on Dec 15, 2013 23:56:52 GMT -5
He wove his way up to the attic where that damned and dreadful thing waited for him. Dorian knew what it looked like but he hated always to face its atrocities because, in all honesty, it was still himself that was locked within its confines. How much sin could a man's soul bear before it was crushed under its own layers of evil? Did eternal youth come also with the promise of a dying day, that day when his soul would find its way to the lowest, deepest, most lurid circle of Hell? Because, certainly, that was where it belonged. Where he belonged. And God only knew that if Henry was still around here, it was going to get only worse. Henry was like poison to Dorian, and Ruby had never had to encounter that side of him. Damn.
She followed him so loyally.
He did not wonder, though, because this was something that Ruby had always done, whether she knew it or not. She had let him lead their relationship in whatever direction it went and had always contented herself to be the follower. That was why he had given into the idea of marrying her, so that she might have so physical, tangible evidence that he had more feelings toward her than he did toward anyone else. Anytime he could demonstrate his affection toward the wolf, he did, stroking her head and accepting her kisses for what they were.
He hated that painting. That's why he had killed its artist. It did not deserve to exist and Dorian should have been long dead from all the sins he had woven into it. But the gods were wicked and let him live. Finally, he understood that.
Much to his surprise, she spoke. He did not understand where the words had come from and wondered if, like him, she was more in touch the closer she got to the painting. He could feel the ache in his bones right now too. "Shhh..." he tried to calm her, leaning down to her again. "We're home. My home. My real home, where I am not so much loved as loathed. I don't know what has gone on. I'm sorry." He looked at her and then back to the horrid image. A thought struck him. "What if... you could change places? The moon will be full tomorrow night, I believe," he mused, glancing out the window. "Yes. Then perhaps you may trade with the painting." He could at least hope so.
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Post by Ruby Gray on Dec 16, 2013 2:10:21 GMT -5
it's in your eyes, a color fade out LOOKS LIKE A NEW TRANSITION, THE STARTING UP AND SHAKING YOUR GROUND. TURNING YOUR HEAD TO SEE A NEW DAY CALLING
Ruby was lost, confused and incredibly frightened, nothing here was familiar and even if Dorian knew where they were, and by the way he navigated the house so easily she imagined he did, she couldn't express that she was utterly lost. It was so incredibly frustrating, she had no idea how or where to begin to communicate with him. What if she was stuck like this forever? Would she be nothing more than a loyal pet? A rich man with a wolf upon display for friends and family to gawk and admire? She huffed. Preposterous. Even if she was trapped... he wouldn't be so cruel. He would at least keep her safe and hidden within these walls... perhaps even with the zeal that he hid that portrait of his. A odd noise escaped the wolf's maw, the closest to a laugh as he was going to get.
She followed him as always, even trapped, unable to stray far from his side, and every touch, and every stroke in which he touched her was returned with a soft rumble, a contented sound to let him know the gesture was appreciated. She had never tread on floors like these and often she slipped or scrambled but managed to stay standing. She was nervous and anxious and finally she understood what all those people had gone through that showed up in Aledon. Nothing at all was familiar.
As they reached his portrait as she saw what had become of her other form, but how, why and was that even possible was lost to her. When she spoke aloud, she startled both herself and Dorian and quickly he was before her, she padded silently closer to him, head down and leaning mildly into his body, taking comfort in the other thing familiar to her... well... besides the portrait. "Your home?...What have you called it... London?"
[/i] She tried to remain calm, gaze flickering back to her still portrait, it was strange seeing Dorian's soul so entwined with herself. Her attention returned to the Duke as he apologized and she nuzzled his cheek affectionately. "Do not be sorry, this isn't your fault. I would rather spend my life like this if I must than alone forever more where you are not."[/i] His next words had her blinking in surprise, a growl of uncertainty bubbling up through her throat. "I... do not know. There are no werewolves here are there? Wolf is gone, her instincts remain but little else no intelligence, no logical thought, shes not within me anymore... It frightens me, as horrible as she is, I have never known a life without her. I feel powerless and empty."[/i] The last bit was more of a muse to herself but apparently none of her thoughts were safe when she stood here. "All we can do is try, I cannot hear Luna or Wolf. It is strange to be without them." Her attention turned to more obvious problems. "Obviously your people don't respond well to wolves, where would you like me to hide? I dislike the thought of leaving you alone, I may be small but I still have teeth and claw... and if this world disheartens you so I am very unsettled to leave you so unprotected... but I wish you no strife either. I could leave the property, return tomorrow eve?"[/i] Her thoughts were too random, too scrambled, she couldn't think straight and shook her head. "As always I love you Dori, I will do whatever it is you ask."[/i] Silently she hoped he would at least allow her in his quarters, no one would dare venture there uninvited yes? She quite dreaded sleeping up here. talking talking talking[/size][/font][/blockquote][/blockquote] does it feel like a head to lean on? A SNAPSHOT FROM WHERE YOU BORN. I'M LOOKING FOR YOUR HAND IN THE ROUGH, YOU'RE CAUGHT IN THE WIRE. WELL I'LL LIFT YOU OUT
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Post by Dorian Gray on Dec 16, 2013 23:18:37 GMT -5
Even in the form she had right now, Dorian could still sense and read Ruby's emotions, her fears. The closer he got to the painting, the more he lost that ability, but it was nice to know that he otherwise possessed it. He understood that she tried her best, as a mere wolf, to communicate and felt a pang of sympathy. And then the greater thought struck him--would he ever get her back in her human form? She was so precious to him, such a special bond had been forged that he had not before been able to understand and he could not bear to lose that intimacy, that knowing, that love. Even if Henry was here, Dorian wasn't going to let that bastard get in the way of his marriage. Sure, Henry had seen his falling out with Sibyl and impending downfall thereafter, but this was not what he would be expecting, and if Dorian was no longer the creature he'd spent his last twenty years being groomed to be, Henry wasn't going to be happy. But that didn't matter. Nothing like that mattered anymore.
She stayed by him and he felt comforted at least by that. It took a great deal of will to pull the sheet from the atrocity that was underneath it, but Dorian did so and was shocked at what he found. Then, Ruby spoke. What was all of this madness? He sighed and carried on. "Yes, London. Hopefully around about 1896, but I'm not certain." His thoughts drifted back to Henry, Basil, and Sibyl. Those were the people he'd never wanted to recall again, but here they were and he was, if not physically, mentally surrounded by their presences. To Hell with them all! Ruby's words pulled him out. "I... No, we'll find a way."
He was not as confident as the voice he used made him out to be, and it wasn't very strong at all. Why did things have to happen like this? Why not just go ahead and kill him--oh, yes. Because Ruby probably had to go first. Fate demanded its side of the bargain that he had so foolishly made. Youth and beauty, he had once finally realized, were only the outside. But enough for philosophy--he had to save his wife. "You will always be safe with me, wolf or no," he promised. Then she spoke out her thoughts and he frowned in disdain. Since when had it mattered what other people here thought? "No, Ruby. You'll stay here. I am not going to risk someone deciding you're a wild wolf. We'll get this sorted out."
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Post by Ruby Gray on Dec 17, 2013 4:14:18 GMT -5
it's in your eyes, a color fade out LOOKS LIKE A NEW TRANSITION, THE STARTING UP AND SHAKING YOUR GROUND. TURNING YOUR HEAD TO SEE A NEW DAY CALLING
"1896? What was that...weapon that your servant tried to kill me with? That was dreadful." A look of minor horror covered her face as she recalled that ear splitting bang that was still reverberating through her skull. Ruby hesitated, ears swiveling to lay flat against her skull. Un-eased and unaccustomed to feeling so very...out of her element. She knew of nothing here, not even if she could ever become human again and while she lacked Dorian's intelligence and broadened perspective of the earth, she was intelligent in the art of survival and perhaps it was this logic that spun her thoughts towards that wicked painting and made her think on things she had no desire to think of. She could smell Dorian's own anxiety and her loyalty, even in such a foreign form was unyielding. She leaned a touch more into him, silently being there for him, while he struggled through his own musings.
"Even if the full moon works... have I become a part of your curse? Since this world does not possess my own, is it possible that its manifested to twine with yours? Even worse still... have you now twined with mine? If ever should we return to Aledon will you become what I am?" The musings were more her own but she spoke them aloud, because if they were true, they had far larger problems than just the mere fact that she was now a canine.
Her tail wagged lazily behind her, lips pulling into a smile at his faith in them finding a solution. A quick lick to the cheek, showed her appreciation and gently taking his fingers between her teeth and tugging lightly she rumbled. "We won't know until tomorrow night. You may as well get some sleep my love, I have a feeling you'll need it. I won't leave you." She waited until he rose, leading her to his bedroom and for a moment she had to pause, starring in mild wonder at the opulence of such a room. Before she watched her lover change and crawl beneath the covers. With a bouncing gait she crossed the room and lept with grace beside him. She couldn't speak to him anymore but she huffed quietly. Curling against his side, and resting her head upon his steadily rising chest, letting the feel of his soft breaths, lull her to sleep.
(((OOC: If you wanna write a short end post Ill start a new one in the morning.)))
talking talking talking
does it feel like a head to lean on? A SNAPSHOT FROM WHERE YOU BORN. I'M LOOKING FOR YOUR HAND IN THE ROUGH, YOU'RE CAUGHT IN THE WIRE. WELL I'LL LIFT YOU OUT
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Post by Dorian Gray on Dec 17, 2013 23:54:16 GMT -5
"A pistol," he replied gently, "And you'd best not mess around near one again. You've got a lot to learn about my world, I suppose." He offered a salacious smile to her and stared back at the painting. There was little use in doing anything right now, he knew that. Heaving a sigh at being forced to see what he'd done to himself thus far again, Dorian leaned over to get the sheet and threw it back over the painting. He stepped to the door and locked it behind them. "They may well have twined, but I wouldn't know what to do about it. We may just have to wait to see what becomes of it. In any case, if you are part of my own curse, welcome to eternal youth." He grinned.
She nipped at his hand and led the weary traveler to his own bedroom, wherein he was content to spend the whole of the night. Hell, he was tired. Undressing enough for sleep, Dorian climbed into the bed and lay happily against the soft, cold covers. It was like Heaven to be back home--oh, and there was opium here. Ruby sure had a lot to learn. "Good. Stay here." And he slept.
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