From the Gates of Hell...to Me!
"His silky voice was a spellbinding siren call to depravity..."(You shaped my life with shadows)
▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
Name: Barracus
Breed: Coyote Purewalker
Temper: Depraved
Found: 01/20/2011
Obtained: Pure Skinwalker rp contest
Allignment: He is a cross between Chaotic and Lawful evil.
Sexuality: Not capable of love, but kind of bisexual, will utilize seduction as a weapon against either gender with equal ferocity.
Coyote cert|Uncerted|Coyote form|Unpelted form(not IC)|Feral Charmed Uncert|Charmed Uncert|Feral Charmed Cert|Charmed Cert
▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
About me:
Barraccus is the embodiment of darkness; vicious and bloodthirsty, to put it simply, he is an extremely dangerous purewalker to cross paths with.
Barracus is sadistic, ruthless, and completely devoid of mercy or compassion. His actions are driven by greed, hatred of life in all its forms, and a lust for destruction and blood. He is zealously committed to spreading evil and chaos across the uncorrupted Kawani lands and sees absolutely nothing wrong with taking whatever he wants by whatever means necessary to those ends. Barracus trusts no one and has no value for anyone or anything that presumes to stand in his way. As far as he is concerned, the other races of soquili are playthings and pawns to be manipulated or disposed of at will for his own personal pleasure and gain. They are lesser beings that should surrender to his superior species and fold before his unrivaled will. Believing himself demonic and essentially immortal, Barracus patiently plots and works toward the destruction of all order and society within Kawani for his own sadistic amusement. He is content to bide his time for now, slowly corrupting the younger and more malleable generations, using them as his own little pawns, to spread chaos, destruction, hatred, and death across the land, allowing the Purewalker breed to rise to power, with himself as their leader.
When Barracus feels he has the upper hand (most of the time,) he behaves in a disturbingly seductive and sadistically friendly manner towards his ‘pets,’ if they try to escape he will become quite firm with them, he hates it when his guests abuse his hospitality. Once Barracus has marked a soquili for death he will never stop hunting them. It drives him crazy when those victims he has developed an ‘intimate relationship’ with escape him. They may not see him for years as he has other things and plans that occupy his attention but he will always come back in another attempt to capture them, especially when they are alone and vulnerable. He is not satisfied with granting his prey a simple release, preferring to toy with them, even going so far as to capture and imprison them for sometimes weeks on end, dragging out the terror and pain for as long as possible, relishing every moment spent with his precious 'pets' before finishing the deed. He feeds on their fear and despair as much as he feeds upon their flesh, drawing out their final moments with a lover's attention to detail, a talent he inherited from his father, Zair. For Barracus, those painful and terrified moments he spends with his victims before death are true intimacy. Although certainly capable, he enjoys playing games rather than using brute force to trap his quarry, seducing or luring them away from the group until they're vulnerable before he pounces.
Barracus cannot abide the prolonged company of females of his kind; their scent triggers memories of his mother and slowly provokes him into increasingly intense fits of mindless violence. He may be seduced by a mare and thereby reproduce, as he is still subject to his own anatomy and instinct, but that mare would do well to flee immediately after such a coupling. He can stand being around other male purewalkers for a short period of time, but he is much too territorial to tolerate the presence of a potential rival for very long without violence. He may choose to band together with others of his kind for short periods to oppose a powerful enemy, bullying the weaker members into submission through pure force and raw power and challenging anyone who would presume to tell him what to do at the smallest sign of weakness. He views other soquili species as woefully inferior and weak but prefers to harness and twist the skills of the more traditionally ruthless breeds such as Kalonas, Cursed skin walkers, or their spawn to his purposes, rather than submit to forming a shaky alliance with his peers, as they are much more easily dominated. He enjoys corrupting the innocent and having others submit to his power.
Barracus’ mother was always critical of his accomplishments; awarding him only with jeering insults and contempt for anything he tried to do to sedate her. He was kept isolated, and often mercilessly beaten. As a young foal he fled inward and allowed the treatment to continue despite it being well within his power to end the torment. When he reached his teen years he killed his mother in a fit of rage, although he is still convinced that even death is an inadequate barrier for someone as evil and malignant as she, he is sure she stalks his every move through the dead eyes of his victims, thus he disposes the bodies of his victims soon after he kills them, often tossing them in the same space leaving piles of gnawed bleached bones near his lair as unintentional evidence of his presence. His father was never a part of his life although he does know a few things about him, having met him shortly before their final confrontation with Mergha, which resulted in both of his parent’s deaths.
Familiar: NA
Herd:NA
▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
Direct Family
Parents:(Technically NA)
Mergha x Zair
(Mergha is Deceased, Zair is believed to be deceased, neither are in Soquili)
Siblings:NA
Mate: NA
Children:
Indirect Family:
NA
Art:NA
▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
Anonymous
"Barracus -terrifies- me in the most amazing way. I have loved/been scared of his character ever since Faith wrote up her entry to win him and find myself reading her posts despite how creeped out I get. I think he is a terrific example of what a skinwalker should be and a fitting nominee for the season."
▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
Quote:
Response/History:
Barraccus stretched his long limbs luxuriously, kneading his claws in the shredded remains of his latest 'pet.' The heady coppery scent of blood flooded his flared nostrils and he inhaled deeply, savoring the rich aroma. Sticky blood seeped across the floor, pooling in the cracks between stones and bathing his paws. He appraised it with raised brows and a slow smile spread across his face. "A rather pleasing color for my humble abode" he mused to himself, chuckling; the deep lucid tones reverberated eerily in the stone chamber.
His cruel and timeless golden gaze swept across the limp form of the mare sprawled in the center chamber of his home, a series of shallow caves. She had been a most delightful creature, her screams...most satisfying. He enjoyed partaking in that beauty, she had been so innocent, so deliciously unsuspecting as he led her far away from any hope of assistance, from any chance that anyone could hear her cries for help. Barraccus gazed intently into her glazed eyes, "Time for you to be going dearest," He breathed intimately, "I'm afraid I don't have any more time to spend with you this evening, but I must admit, I found your screams unusually enchanting." She didn't answer of course, they never did. How cruel of them to snub him after all the work he had done to give them everything they deserved, what they had aspired to their entire lives...It was probably his mothers work, viscous harpy, he growled at the body, sure his spiteful mother was laughing at him through those frozen eyes.
Barraccus gripped the mare by her neck, the flesh yielding easily to his sharp canines, and dragged her towards the exit. The sun was down, leaving a red slash across the darkening sky. He knew he must dispose of the remains quickly, while there remained enough light to pick his way through the jagged rocks, scattered animal bones, and sparse vegetation to the opposite side of the broad rocky terrace. As he turned to do just that, he found himself instead gazing intently at the sky, fascinated by this transient twilight, so fragile, and all too brief. He liked to think that he brought his pets into the twilight of their lives, assisted in their transition between life and death... He enjoyed sharing those moments of intense pain and desperation with them, for Barraccus, that was true intimacy.
At that moment, he would have been satisfied to sit and gaze at the glorious and unbounded sky, but duty called; and, as always. Barraccus selflessly heeded its call. He laboriously dragged the mare through the scree towards the edge, stopping only momentarily to free one of the legs from entanglement around a jagged boulder. He felt a nagging suspicion that the mare was cross with him for pausing, Barraccus stooped, peering deeply into her hollow eyes, there was no flicker of recognition, no hint of thankfulness geared towards him, Barraccus who had delivered her from the heavy bonds and thankless trials of life. Death was so....easy, so uncomplicated. Living was the burden, life an endless hardship. He knew the truth of it all too well.
He sighed despondently, they always toyed with him like this... Cruel, viscous, thankless creatures, the lot of them. He glanced past the body towards the other side of the cave opening, that side was dominated by a conveniently wide natural path cut into the stone. It allowed him to easily escort home visitors without the advantage of paws for easy climbing. This side had been sheared off by a rock slide, the steep drop off was dizzying; Barraccus stole a quick peak over the side, perfect for his purposes. It wouldn't do to allow this one to remain in his home to welcome the next pet he came across. He wouldn't feel right about it, Barraccus was intensely devoted to each of the mares he brought home, he enjoyed the alone time with each of them and loathed to share their company with anyone else, not even their predecessors. He was always firmly reminding himself, whenever the temptation arose, that he would never lower himself to juggling multiple females like his father. Barraccus treasured his time with each of his beautiful pets....He liked to consider himself monogamous....
Not until death did they part...
At the edge of the cliff, he again paused to gaze down at the mare, into the empty eyes gazing at him, almost.... Accusingly. They all did that too, he found their sentiments mildly amusing; they were not as he was; they could not know him, could not understand one such as he, understand what he felt, what he needed, what he hungered for. The air echoed with his cruel, mocking laughter.
Barraccus took a deep breath, inhaling the gathering night, calming himself. He had already extracted the price of his company from this one, what she felt about their short time together mattered little in the grand scheme of things; he had reveled in the experience, in each exquisite detail. Scream my dear, scream all you want, he had encouraged her as the fun began. It will help you no more than it ever helped me. Her wailing had done her no good. His hadn’t either. Barraccus was the merciless product of his mother’s twisted nurturing. She had no idea how immeasurably worse his agony had been, unlike her, he had been condemned to live. He had granted her the glory and the award that was death. Barraccus envied her courage to take that next step into the unknown. He was pleased to have been able to assist her on that final journey.
His muscles rippled under his silky brown coat as he heaved the mangled carcass off the cliff, yet another lost soul, ungrateful of the sweet embrace of death he generously shared with them. He could barely make out the bleached outlines of bones from his previous encounters in the fading light, scattered among the rubble miles below. They deserved each others company....
Barraccus staggered back from the edge, his vision blurring, he opened his mouth wide, threw back his head and howled, a savage echoing cry of unmitigated wrath and then exquisite pain as his body twisted in response to the power he called forth, the power that was always in him, waiting to be called, a power that responded to his will alone. His pointed ears broadened and elongated, his canines lengthened and coarse black fur spread across his shrinking form. The coyote gazed back towards the path down through the mountains; he was growing bored of the same game, the same prey. He wanted a challenge, a new home, and new Soquili to play with. This mare had given him a destination, in the single word uttered longingly with her dying breath, Kawani. Decision made, he lurched foreword, his lithe black body melting in with the shadows as he raced down the mountainside.
--------
Barraccus enjoyed the invigorating rush of chill air against his face as he ran; he raced tirelessly over wasted hills, and through twisted dying forests. He felt an unfamiliar emptiness as he barreled across the barren land where he had been raised. The cloak of darkness felt cool, encasing him in obscure black night.
.
Barraccus traveled for many days and many nights to reach the new lands he had searched for. Stopping only briefly to rest and feed, and occasionally to extract directions to this strange place from an unsuspecting victim. Rolling hills, lush green forests and clear streams greeted him. The sights were almost sickening in their wholesome beauty; perhaps he had made a mistake, should have remained in the dark wasteland where he had been raised. He found he missed the familiar thick reek of smoke, blood, and terror that blanketed his den. But Barraccus was not one to reject new experiences.
This place was charming, and clearly unaffected by the taint spread by his race. It would make it that much more fun to corrupt it, twisting it beyond all recognition. He sauntered foreword, eager to begin his conquest, his defilement. He caught the scent of a mare, sharp, cloying, tantalizing. His mouth watered in response, he hadn't fed in quite sometime and when he had, he was unable to fully enjoy his pet's company without the luxuries of shelter or time. He trotted foreword and scanned the open country through eyes that easily pierced the blanket of darkness.
.....There.
Through the darkness he advanced, to his darkness were they fated.
...Hunting, always hunting, he would find them. Their worst fears had yet to be realized.
--------
Barraccus traveled through the night, and rested the next day. Preferring to approach the small herd while wrapped in night's dark embrace.
The wooded hills were easy enough traveling. They were open, with broad green meadows sprinkled with wildflowers and a patchwork of grassland. The sun was again slipping down behind the distant towering mountains.
Barraccus rose from his concealment and trotted foreword through the sea of grass, rolling in the stiff breeze. It was only a little further, just over the next line of hills. Barraccus altered his course, veering a little to the left, heading for the cover of the woods. He reached the trees just as the orange disc of the sun slipped behind the snow capped mountains.
The time had come.
Not long to wait, not long at all....
----------
Barraccus watched the mare struggle against her bonds. He was almost rooting for her escape, this capture had proven much to easy. The foolish soquili had blindly wandered in almost immediately after he had finished constructing the trap. He peered down at her intently, fascinated, not wanting to miss a single, delectable detail. She writhed and kicked with seemingly tireless devotion, but the thick vines Barraccus had wrapped around her hooves while she was unconscious were more than sufficient at performing their purpose.
Nevertheless, the tension was delicious.
Barraccus savored her distress, he had not begun to make her suffer. He would soon have a very long time to explore her capacity for suffering.
So absorbed in the task at hand, so focused was he on this game, Barraccus didn't notice the stealthy noises approaching from all sides.
A moment later, Barraccus heard a scream, it was not a scream of fear as he was so accustomed to, but a scream of unbridled rage, the sound ran a sharp shiver down his spine as he spun to meet the unexpected attack from the rest of the herd, and felt the horrifying shock of a staggering blow against his side.
Barraccus was fast, and lethal with his razor-like claws, a worthy opponent for any wishing to challenge him; but he was no fool, facing the prospect of a fight already injured, and outnumbered nearly ten to one, he made the only rational decision available to him; As much as Barraccus hated life in all its forms, he realized now that he wanted to hold on to it. With a venomous growl and a heartfelt oath for retribution, Barraccus ran.
Barraccus stretched his long limbs luxuriously, kneading his claws in the shredded remains of his latest 'pet.' The heady coppery scent of blood flooded his flared nostrils and he inhaled deeply, savoring the rich aroma. Sticky blood seeped across the floor, pooling in the cracks between stones and bathing his paws. He appraised it with raised brows and a slow smile spread across his face. "A rather pleasing color for my humble abode" he mused to himself, chuckling; the deep lucid tones reverberated eerily in the stone chamber.
His cruel and timeless golden gaze swept across the limp form of the mare sprawled in the center chamber of his home, a series of shallow caves. She had been a most delightful creature, her screams...most satisfying. He enjoyed partaking in that beauty, she had been so innocent, so deliciously unsuspecting as he led her far away from any hope of assistance, from any chance that anyone could hear her cries for help. Barraccus gazed intently into her glazed eyes, "Time for you to be going dearest," He breathed intimately, "I'm afraid I don't have any more time to spend with you this evening, but I must admit, I found your screams unusually enchanting." She didn't answer of course, they never did. How cruel of them to snub him after all the work he had done to give them everything they deserved, what they had aspired to their entire lives...It was probably his mothers work, viscous harpy, he growled at the body, sure his spiteful mother was laughing at him through those frozen eyes.
Barraccus gripped the mare by her neck, the flesh yielding easily to his sharp canines, and dragged her towards the exit. The sun was down, leaving a red slash across the darkening sky. He knew he must dispose of the remains quickly, while there remained enough light to pick his way through the jagged rocks, scattered animal bones, and sparse vegetation to the opposite side of the broad rocky terrace. As he turned to do just that, he found himself instead gazing intently at the sky, fascinated by this transient twilight, so fragile, and all too brief. He liked to think that he brought his pets into the twilight of their lives, assisted in their transition between life and death... He enjoyed sharing those moments of intense pain and desperation with them, for Barraccus, that was true intimacy.
At that moment, he would have been satisfied to sit and gaze at the glorious and unbounded sky, but duty called; and, as always. Barraccus selflessly heeded its call. He laboriously dragged the mare through the scree towards the edge, stopping only momentarily to free one of the legs from entanglement around a jagged boulder. He felt a nagging suspicion that the mare was cross with him for pausing, Barraccus stooped, peering deeply into her hollow eyes, there was no flicker of recognition, no hint of thankfulness geared towards him, Barraccus who had delivered her from the heavy bonds and thankless trials of life. Death was so....easy, so uncomplicated. Living was the burden, life an endless hardship. He knew the truth of it all too well.
He sighed despondently, they always toyed with him like this... Cruel, viscous, thankless creatures, the lot of them. He glanced past the body towards the other side of the cave opening, that side was dominated by a conveniently wide natural path cut into the stone. It allowed him to easily escort home visitors without the advantage of paws for easy climbing. This side had been sheared off by a rock slide, the steep drop off was dizzying; Barraccus stole a quick peak over the side, perfect for his purposes. It wouldn't do to allow this one to remain in his home to welcome the next pet he came across. He wouldn't feel right about it, Barraccus was intensely devoted to each of the mares he brought home, he enjoyed the alone time with each of them and loathed to share their company with anyone else, not even their predecessors. He was always firmly reminding himself, whenever the temptation arose, that he would never lower himself to juggling multiple females like his father. Barraccus treasured his time with each of his beautiful pets....He liked to consider himself monogamous....
Not until death did they part...
At the edge of the cliff, he again paused to gaze down at the mare, into the empty eyes gazing at him, almost.... Accusingly. They all did that too, he found their sentiments mildly amusing; they were not as he was; they could not know him, could not understand one such as he, understand what he felt, what he needed, what he hungered for. The air echoed with his cruel, mocking laughter.
Barraccus took a deep breath, inhaling the gathering night, calming himself. He had already extracted the price of his company from this one, what she felt about their short time together mattered little in the grand scheme of things; he had reveled in the experience, in each exquisite detail. Scream my dear, scream all you want, he had encouraged her as the fun began. It will help you no more than it ever helped me. Her wailing had done her no good. His hadn’t either. Barraccus was the merciless product of his mother’s twisted nurturing. She had no idea how immeasurably worse his agony had been, unlike her, he had been condemned to live. He had granted her the glory and the award that was death. Barraccus envied her courage to take that next step into the unknown. He was pleased to have been able to assist her on that final journey.
His muscles rippled under his silky brown coat as he heaved the mangled carcass off the cliff, yet another lost soul, ungrateful of the sweet embrace of death he generously shared with them. He could barely make out the bleached outlines of bones from his previous encounters in the fading light, scattered among the rubble miles below. They deserved each others company....
Barraccus staggered back from the edge, his vision blurring, he opened his mouth wide, threw back his head and howled, a savage echoing cry of unmitigated wrath and then exquisite pain as his body twisted in response to the power he called forth, the power that was always in him, waiting to be called, a power that responded to his will alone. His pointed ears broadened and elongated, his canines lengthened and coarse black fur spread across his shrinking form. The coyote gazed back towards the path down through the mountains; he was growing bored of the same game, the same prey. He wanted a challenge, a new home, and new Soquili to play with. This mare had given him a destination, in the single word uttered longingly with her dying breath, Kawani. Decision made, he lurched foreword, his lithe black body melting in with the shadows as he raced down the mountainside.
--------
Barraccus enjoyed the invigorating rush of chill air against his face as he ran; he raced tirelessly over wasted hills, and through twisted dying forests. He felt an unfamiliar emptiness as he barreled across the barren land where he had been raised. The cloak of darkness felt cool, encasing him in obscure black night.
.
Barraccus traveled for many days and many nights to reach the new lands he had searched for. Stopping only briefly to rest and feed, and occasionally to extract directions to this strange place from an unsuspecting victim. Rolling hills, lush green forests and clear streams greeted him. The sights were almost sickening in their wholesome beauty; perhaps he had made a mistake, should have remained in the dark wasteland where he had been raised. He found he missed the familiar thick reek of smoke, blood, and terror that blanketed his den. But Barraccus was not one to reject new experiences.
This place was charming, and clearly unaffected by the taint spread by his race. It would make it that much more fun to corrupt it, twisting it beyond all recognition. He sauntered foreword, eager to begin his conquest, his defilement. He caught the scent of a mare, sharp, cloying, tantalizing. His mouth watered in response, he hadn't fed in quite sometime and when he had, he was unable to fully enjoy his pet's company without the luxuries of shelter or time. He trotted foreword and scanned the open country through eyes that easily pierced the blanket of darkness.
.....There.
Through the darkness he advanced, to his darkness were they fated.
...Hunting, always hunting, he would find them. Their worst fears had yet to be realized.
--------
Barraccus traveled through the night, and rested the next day. Preferring to approach the small herd while wrapped in night's dark embrace.
The wooded hills were easy enough traveling. They were open, with broad green meadows sprinkled with wildflowers and a patchwork of grassland. The sun was again slipping down behind the distant towering mountains.
Barraccus rose from his concealment and trotted foreword through the sea of grass, rolling in the stiff breeze. It was only a little further, just over the next line of hills. Barraccus altered his course, veering a little to the left, heading for the cover of the woods. He reached the trees just as the orange disc of the sun slipped behind the snow capped mountains.
The time had come.
Not long to wait, not long at all....
----------
Barraccus watched the mare struggle against her bonds. He was almost rooting for her escape, this capture had proven much to easy. The foolish soquili had blindly wandered in almost immediately after he had finished constructing the trap. He peered down at her intently, fascinated, not wanting to miss a single, delectable detail. She writhed and kicked with seemingly tireless devotion, but the thick vines Barraccus had wrapped around her hooves while she was unconscious were more than sufficient at performing their purpose.
Nevertheless, the tension was delicious.
Barraccus savored her distress, he had not begun to make her suffer. He would soon have a very long time to explore her capacity for suffering.
So absorbed in the task at hand, so focused was he on this game, Barraccus didn't notice the stealthy noises approaching from all sides.
A moment later, Barraccus heard a scream, it was not a scream of fear as he was so accustomed to, but a scream of unbridled rage, the sound ran a sharp shiver down his spine as he spun to meet the unexpected attack from the rest of the herd, and felt the horrifying shock of a staggering blow against his side.
Barraccus was fast, and lethal with his razor-like claws, a worthy opponent for any wishing to challenge him; but he was no fool, facing the prospect of a fight already injured, and outnumbered nearly ten to one, he made the only rational decision available to him; As much as Barraccus hated life in all its forms, he realized now that he wanted to hold on to it. With a venomous growl and a heartfelt oath for retribution, Barraccus ran.
▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
A Mother's love (Character Development RP)
~Characters~
-colors will only indicate speech, not action-
Barracus
Mergha (Mother) NPC
Zair (Father) NPC
It was dark, and quiet inside the cave. A thin and bedraggled looking mare was sprawled across one corner, her sides heaving as she glared across the cave floor at the lone basket that sat there. The material was a glossy black that seemed to suck in any shred of light around it, golden lines and swirls pulsed and wriggled across the velvet darkness. Her first and only child lay within. Mergha struggled to sit up and drag herself across the floor of the cave, her minty green eyes drinking in the site of the offspring that would finally allow her to gain the power and prestige she coveted, and had been denied for so long. She was a small creature, her build thin and lithe rather than muscular, her paws delicate and small rather than powerful. She was a disgrace to her kind, the runt out of all her siblings. She had been treated with disdain and disrespect by her family and tossed out to fend for herself as soon as she learned to hunt. She was worthless to them, a hindrance and possibly even a liability. But Mergha was a cunning little thing, despite her small stature she was as beautiful as she was spiteful and viscous; her hair a long and silky black like her pelt and her body a creamy beige and as soft as velvet. She would use these things to make a place for herself.
Zair was a credit to his kind. He was tall, broad of shoulder and heavily muscled. He was a merciless, pitiless, soulless killer. He delighted blood and death, drawing out the final moments of his victims with a lover's patience, savoring the sound of their dying screams ripping from their lungs. He was awarded a wary respect and feared by all who knew him, when Zair spoke, people listened... Or they died. Mergha wanted a piece of that power, she wanted to control it.
Purewalkers did not mate for love. Zair and Mergha were no exception. She wanted the respect and power she felt bearing his child would give her, and Zair was bewitched by Mergha's extraordinary beauty and her sly tongue. She had guessed correctly, he was ready to put his plan into action.
The pregnancy had been hard, and it had taken it's toll on the young mare. Mergha wrapped herself possessively around the basket, she would bear no more, the delivery had caused too much internal damage. She would have to make this one count. The second child, a daughter, had not survived the birth. No matter, the important thing was she had produced a son. Zair's firstborn. A male heir, she would claim her reward. It would be well worth the all pain and suffering she had endured to get this far, she was sure, to have Zair dancing to her tune, to Mergha's tune, and she would have her revenge.
A shadow drew across the cave mouth, Zair had gotten wind of the birth and despite his continued absence during the pregnancy, he had come to claim the single basket protected by the almost skeletally thin form before him. How could he ever have found this thing attractive? The thought sickened him. She would have to be dealt with, once a lovely creature, he could barely stand to look at her. He would not be associated with her, he would find another mare, a weak willed mare, to watch after the child as it grew. "My compliments dearest Mergha, you have done me a great service" he rumbled in a silky croon, his long tail twitching to caress her face as he circled her slowly. She watched him warily, her striking green eyes narrowed as they followed his graceful movements. Mergha was no fool, she could see the killing gleam in his eye. she stretched lazily, one unsheathed claw shifting almost casually to dangle over the basket. She was weak from blood loss and malnourishment, but in this she could be fast enough. The threat was clear as the razor like claw dragged delicately across the woven fibers. She knew what he had came for, but he would not have it until she was repaid for her time and for the brutal damage the pregnancy and labor had inflicted on her body. She had been too slow and awkward to hunt and the other purewalkers would have killed her without a second thought if they had seen caught her in her weakened state. She had remained cloistered here, never knowing where her next meal would come from. She had not bargained on Zair's neglect throughout the pregnancy. He would pay for that. She finally had her claws wrapped around the one thing Zair desired more than blood and death. "Be careful my love" she purred in return, baring her fangs. Zair's eyes narrowed, he had always wondered at her game. The child was not meant to be an offering, not a trade for protection as she had led him to believe all those moons ago. This child was to be his collar, with Mergha holding the leash. A shame the other had not survived, he had realized that the mare's size would be an impediment to her bearing healthy children but he had been willing to look past it at the time. Now he cursed his thoughtless foolishness. Mergha was useless now, her beauty destroyed, her body worn and broken. "I am nobodies puppet!" He declared through gritted teeth. "Do as you wish.Truly, he had had plans for this offspring, but he was patient. He would bide his time, gathering support and fathering his coveted army of purewalkers. When the child came of age or his mother died, he would either seek him out or choose another son as his heir.
Mergha's eyes narrowed. She knew his plans, knew why he desired this foal. It had been the main reason she had chosen him, if was not in the nature of a purewalker to feel parental affection. Zair held no feelings for his offspring beyond the use he could get out of them, the disappointment and rage dancing in his eyes was for the missed opportunity, not for the lost son. Mergha began to feel afraid, it had never occurred to her that Zair would react this way. She had been so sure that the child would be the key, but if Zair considered it's life expendable, it was useless to her.
"I have born you a strong son Zair," Mergha wheedled, loosening her hold on the basket and gazing up at him with her eyes wide. Her eyes being the only remnants of the astonishing beauty that had ensnared her lover. "Am I not entitles some sort of reward? Zair growled and smacked her away from the basket with a heavy paw, crouching over it as he bared his fangs at her threateningly. "You are a worthless, useless, conniving little witch," He roared, "You are weak and spineless, an insult to my species. I should kill you where you stand and take my son.... But you are correct, your efforts do deserve some sort of recompense. I have no time to rear the child, so I will let you live.... I will allow you to keep this foal... For now. But be well aware, the moment my son's life ends, yours will soon follow. The moment you push me too far, I will find another to take your place. I'm sure there are no shortage of females I could 'convince' to perform this minor task for me should you prove unworthy."
He backed away towards the exit, pushing the basket across the floor to her with one paw. "You will live to regret the day you crossed me Mergha, be assured." He spun away from her and exited as quickly as he came.
Mergha screamed.
------------------
Over the past few weeks since Barracus had been transferred from his mothers womb into the carefully constructed woven basket to finish developing, he had become slowly more aware of the world outside of his dark haven. The small foal shifted, a deliciously moist metallic smell floating past his flared nostrils. His stomach rumbled in response and he shifted irritably at the unfamiliar and uncomfortable sensation. He stretched, pressing his back against the tightly woven wicker, feeling the material bunch and strain with the added pressure. His stomach grumbled again, hungry, the word floated into his mind unbidden. He twisted and pushed upwards, with a loud crack and a burst of light, Barracus was free.
He tumbled out of the basket to Mergha's feet. The little foal squinted up into the frosty glare of his mother and whinnied with fright at the sunken features and at the depth of hate in the gaze she affixed him with. "M-mother? he struggled with the unfamiliar word, somehow it didn't seem quite right to address the creature in front of him in such a way.
A low growl rumbled in Mergha's throat at the sight of her son. He was large, longer and more developed than the average newborn. Not a runt then, she hated him for that. She wanted Zair's child to suffer for the disaster that was her life, she would make the son pay for the sins of the father. Barracus' paws were much to large for his build, indicating that the child would be nearly as large as his father. Why, he even looked like Zair, his only resemblance to the mother who had suffered and sacrificed for him was the glossy black pelt draped across his back. How was that fair? She was the one who would raise him, she was the one whose body had wasted away with the stress of supporting another life, and yet he looked like HIM. Her tiny son gazed up at her with innocent golden eyes, Zair's eyes. Her claws twitched, she wanted to drive them into this miniature Zair and punish him the way she would never dare to punish his father. She was too small, too weak. Zair would kill her with one swipe and take his son for himself. Neither of them would suffer if she died, but now she was the one in charge. She controlled every aspect of Barracus' life in the way she had wanted to control Zair. She could not punish the ones who had abandoned her, her parents, her siblings, or Zair, but this little creature was hers to command. And she would exact her vengeance...
Mergha smiled.
----------------
The next few years were a torturous blur for young Barracus. They moved to a new cave within the first week, she had been too weak to move the basket on her own, but now that the child had been born, Mergha wanted to keep her son to herself and as fair away from his hated father as possible. Zair may decide to try and collect his son at any time despite their agreement. It would be a deadly folly to trust any 'walker at their word, much less Zair who had something to gain from taking Barracus away from her. He would most certainly decide to take him if he saw how much the child resembled him, so Mergha would keep her son out of sight. Far away from the prying eyes of the 'walkers that lived near Zair's territory lest they carry him word.
Barracus spent his entire childhood chained to the cave. His mother told him his father was dead and impressed upon him his duty to care for her. As soon as he was large enough, he was charged with the task of providing food for his tiny family. He didn't mind, he enjoyed the exhilarating rush that he could only get from stalking and taking down prey. He lived for the moment when his powerful jaws snapped closed around their necks, feeling the rapid pulsing of their hearts sputtering and halting as he snapped their necks with a quick jerk of his head. He would have enjoyed drawing out the process more but Mergha, He always referred to her as 'Mergha' in his head even though he was forced to call her 'mother' to her face, was prone to violent outbursts if he stayed away from the cave for more time than she felt was necessary. She always felt he had stayed out longer than necessary. He sported deep gouges across his back and flanks as evidence of her viscous temper whenever he returned from the hunt. Barracus once had asked her why she didn't perform the chore herself if it bothered her so much to send him away. She had responded with unexpected speed and cruelty, leaving him moaning in the corner with the pain of his injuries for days while she gazed at him from across the cave. Her minty green eyes gleeful as she watched his suffering. Barracus knew why his mother couldn't hunt for them, she no longer resembled the wasted skeleton that had greeted him at birth but she was still frightfully thin. She spent most of her time relaxing on a thick bed of greenery claiming she was far too weak to help him with the never ending list of chores she gave him. The supposed weakness never seemed to slow her down when he caused her grievance, which was more often than not. She may have been thin and weak compared to other purewalkers but her size was more than sufficient when it came to dealing with her young son. She was generous with her punishments, often beating him senseless for no other reason than she had caught him gazing at her once to often with his hated golden eyes.
He was told his father had died in a tragic accident. Leaving poor Mergha with the heavy burden of providing for and raising the ungrateful Barracus by herself. When he asked for his father's name she raked her claws across his face so fast he hadn't registered the wound until the blood began dripping into his eyes. He was never to speak of the awful 'walker who had spawned him. A spineless coward, she claimed, weak and pitiful, just like you!, she would hiss. But Barracus saw the gleam of fear in her eyes when she spoke of his father. He was intimately familiar with that gleam, often being the cause of it, although never with Mergha. At least, not yet. Until he was old enough, he would have to content himself with torturing the small animals around their cave. It was his only hobby, his only way of venting the anger at his weakness whenever Mergha left him torn and bloody after a fit of rage. How shameful that he couldn't even overcome the wrathful violence of his pitiful wraith of a mother.
----------------
Barracus and Mergha's relationship continued this way throughout his foal hood and far into his teenage years. His mother took every chance to belittle him, her spiteful tongue as sharp as the claws she found every excuse to gouge him with. He provided for the family, hunting, cleaning, gathering, whatever his mother required while Mergha remained perched in her comfy bed of rushes and 'oversaw' his work. Despite Barracus' increasing size, he was never quick enough to avoid one of her blows within the small confines of their cave, in fact his size tended to be a disadvantage. He had always hoped that once he was large enough, he would be able to turn the tides against the harpy. Instead, he just provided Mergha with more hated flesh to sink her claws and fangs into.
There were rare moments of what could be called kindness, although he felt that Mergha inserted these confusing deviations from their normal routine more to keep him on edge than out of any desire to see him happy. Mergha was not capable of any sort of compassion, he was sure, the only person she cared about was herself; but when she directed those huge green eyes at him and turned on the charm he could almost believe that his mother cared about his well being. During those rare times, he would lay at her feet while she taught him about the shortcomings of the other soquili breeds. She taught him of Oyohusa, the purewalker's guardian, and she told him a little about the Kawani lands to the East, where their kind was rare and the weaker breeds flourished. She would stroke the silky black fur of his coyote pelt, kneading it with her claws possessively and croon to him tales about the bloody slaughter that would sweep across those peaceful lands when their kind exhausted the last their wasteland had to offer and turned their eyes on the bountiful lands of their neighbors. Barracus would fall asleep, the visions of gaping bloody wounds and sightlessly staring eyes lulling him into a deep restful slumber. He would wake in the morning, nestled next to Mergha in a sick parody of how other foal's probably slept with their parents. His back bloody from Mergha's kneading claws and those green eyes gazing down at him with a cruel humor before clubbing with her paw and ordering him away.
Those unnerving green eyes, so misplaced in the ugly shell that now housed them. They gave Barracus nightmares, she was always watching him. She always knew what he had been up to when he left the cave. Barracus was convinced that she could peer into his mind with those eyes. The thought haunted him day and night, despite Mergha's small stature he began to fear her as much as he loathed her. He longed for her death, longed to be the cause of it, but whenever she pierced him with that gaze he shied away. By now he was larger than Mergha by a head and still growing. More than skilled enough to end his mother's hold on his life but she had him so twisted he couldn't make the move. The land around their cave became cluttered with the shredded remains of small animals and it was not uncommon to hear the young stallion howling in fury and frustration as he wandered the land in his coyote form.
-------------
Zair's claws dug into the earth as he launched his powerful body through the narrow mountain pass. He had had some of his allies alternate keeping watch on the area, keeping tabs for him on his son and the elusive Mergha. He growled at the thought. He had a vague idea of what that wasted harpy had been putting their son through. He hadn't paid much mind to the reports he had received over the past years until recently, the injuries had increased in intensity and veracity. He needed the child whole and undamaged if he was to move foreword with his plans. Barracus was no longer in need of a nursemaid and it was long past time for Mergha to be punished for her insolence and trickery.
He was drawing near, her cloying scent permeating this section of the forest, if faintly. Much stronger was the musky scent of another full grown male 'walker. Unbidden, Zair's hackles rose and a low growl vibrated deep in his throat. This would be the child, he required a male heir for his plans to succeed but their partnership would be risky. Male 'walkers did not work together often, their territorial instincts were too strong and such partnerships usually ended in death for one of the parties.
"Give me one reason I shouldn't kill you where you stand." Zair whipped around to gaze into the golden eyes of what could only be his son. They were almost identical in build and coloring. He was pleased to see that the Mergha's genes had been muted, had he known how worthy an heir Barracus would be he would have taken him home sooner rather than risk leaving him in Mergha's poisonous clutches. His watchers had never reported the similarities either, then again that hadn't been their orders. The walkers he had in his service had to be handled carefully, he had to be extremely specific in their orders. They were bonded to him but it was not in a purewalkers nature to be obedient.
Zair's mouth twisted with wry amusement as his eyes narrowed, "Hesitation, my son? How disappointing..."
-------------
Barracus gazed at the strange 'walker calculatingly, his thoughts racing as he pieced together the puzzle. He was clearly closely related to this stallion, which meant only one thing. Mergha had lied to him, not surprising really, she was the most untrustworthy creature he had ever had the misfortune to know. "I was told my father was dead." He stated bluntly, ignoring the stallion's quip. Hesitation was no risk with his speed and reflexes. Although.... He peered critically at the stranger, noting the heavily corded muscles and the graceful way he moved, perhaps in this case it was not prudent. Barracus' hackles rose and his eyes burned with anger as the scent of his purewalker father tickled his nostrils, the scent unleashed an almost intolerable urge to rip and tear. It was quite distracting, he noticed a dangerous gleam burning in his father's golden gaze. So he felt it too, he said nothing of it so it must be normal. An instinct that needed to be controlled and quelled in order for him to maintain a civil facade. His mother's scent was not unpleasant in and of itself, but because he related it to her it brought upon him such violent and black tempers that he often had to resort to alternative measures to vent off the poisonous emotion. Because the entire area around their cave was bathed in the scent, he was not often in a good humor.
"Why do you come now?" his voice snapped bitterly as he directed a murderous glare at his sire. He had no use for a father now, what the hell did he think he was doing, violating his territory. Doubtless he would suffer for speaking with his father, Mergha's paranoia about his many absences was much clearer now. She was keeping Barracus away from him. How...Intriguing...
"What do you want from me? Or is it Mergha you are seeking? I doubt she will welcome your presence." He spat her name like a vile oath, raising his brow expectantly.
Bright canines glinted as Zair's lips pulled back in a smile.
"I'm rather counting on that."
----------
Mergha's eyes rolled as an all too familiar scent reached her nostrils, it was pungently musky and brought a bright gleam of... something to her eyes as she struggled to pull herself to her feet. "He's come..." she croaked in a ragged whisper, a thrill of fear racing down her spine. Barracus was out hunting as usual. They would have found each other, the area she had chosen was too small. It was time to think quickly.
She had always known that it was risky to tell her son that his father was dead. But she had known that had he been aware of another option, he would have left her with no second thoughts. She was weak, growing weaker by the day, she would not have survived if she did not have Barracus to perform the heavier tasks. She led him to believe that she was too lazy and arrogant to perform such menial labor, but the truth was she simply wasn't able. She despised the almost parasitic existence she had been forced to forge with her hated child. Hated knowing that she would only live so long as he was willing to continue caring for her, even then she knew her time was limited. She had used every manipulative little trick she knew with him, cultivating their twisted relationship until she knew she had scarred him enough emotionally that he would grudgingly obey her every order and whim. Barracus was at war with himself, so busy with that inner conflict that it never occurred to him that all of his problems could be solved with a mere flick of his razor like claws.
Zair had come to take his heir as he had promised all those years ago. Mergha knew he had come to fulfill his other promise as well... He never forgets. She would have to move fast if she was to have a chance to survive. Running was out of the question, without Barracus she would die of starvation within the week, without a strong male present whose scent would ward off any unwelcome visitors, she would be easy pickings for the other 'walkers who, attracted by the scent of a lone female, would kill her without a second thought as soon as they realized they were tracking a crippled wraith and not a young mare.
Zair would most definitely kill her, and that would surely be a slow death. He would cultivate her terror and feast on her screams and her flesh as punishment for her crimes against him.
If Mergha was to live, Zair had to die. She was almost positive she could reaffirm her hold on her son if she could just get rid of the meddling stallion that had spawned him. There was no chance she could take him in a fair fight, Zair was the epitome of what it meant to be a purewalker. He could overpower her even at her best, and she was certainly not at her best. So it would take careful planning and quite a bit of cunning to dispose of her unwelcome visitor.
Using the wall as support she limped and stumbled out of the cave and over to the narrow trail that lead to the clifftop. She could sense the stallions' fast approach. She would await them there.
-------------
Barracus' muscles bunched an released in rhythm, his powerful body relishing the exertion as his large paws ate away the distance between him and the caves where Mergha lay in leaps and bounds. His blood simmered with a savage fury, its intensity fixed on the stallion bounding just to his right. His father. That word certainly meant something to other soquili, the few times an unsuspecting little morsel had wandered foolishly close to his dwelling he had had them screaming for their father's by the end, baffling, the word held no meaning to him. Sometimes they called for their mother as well, that usually drove him to end his fun in a savage rage. Fools! Mothers were spiteful, evil creatures deserving only of torment and death.
"Then why haven't you killed me yet, my pet?" the hated voice crooned in his mind, dripping with poisonous malice.
Barracus' upper lip pulled back in a silent snarl, why? He would tell her why?
...
The fog on his mind dissipated, leaving clarity in its' wake.
Barracus was bigger, stronger, cleverer, than his mother. Mergha was a spineless leech, weak and wasted, she fed off of him, depended on him for her survival. He could destroy her any time he wished. He had wanted her dead for as long as he could remember, for so long he hadn't been physically capable of the deed. Now that he was, he would abide her vile tongue no longer, in fact he would rip the lying manipulative thing from her throat while she watched. He smiled, a lucid calm falling over him, a glint of madness in his suddenly sleepy golden orbs as he realized what he must do. First, he would rid himself of the competition. Zair was out for Mergha's blood, but it didn't belong to him. He didn't care what the witch had done to earn Zair's wrath, it was Barracus who was owed the blood price.
Barracus slowed slightly, allowing the other 'walker to draw slightly ahead, his bared fangs glistened as he snarled and leapt upon his father's back, sinking his claws into the other male's back he used his momentum to drag Zair to the forest floor in a destructive tangle of limbs, claws, and teeth. There was no art to the tussle, they clawed each other to ribbons, sunk teeth into whatever flesh presented itself, and used pure muscle to try to wrestle the other into submission.
Whatever composure Zair had possessed before now disappeared, he was a walker of iron self control, perfectly viscous, a veteran of combat, he had defeated his enemies so thoroughly that the remaining 'walkers in his area had yielded out of sheer self preservation to him. They never stopped trying to overthrow him, but they no longer did so openly, but their cunning was no match for his brute strength. Only Mergha had ever bested him, she had done so with her wiles, she had been beautiful once and because she had carefully chosen the right time to present herself to him, he had wanted. She had barely survived the coupling and had disappeared from his territory before he had awoken. When she had given birth, she had carefully let word of her whereabouts leak, knowing it would reach him. She had wanted to manipulate Zair in order to bring herself into a position of power, knowing she had not the size nor the strength to do so herself. Zair had wanted to break and twist the foal into a vicious tool of his own , it had never been done before. Young were cast out of the parent's territory before reaching adulthood, not out of any sort of compassion but out of an instinctual drive to continue the species. The parent often thought of it as simply ridding themselves of a dangerous annoyance, but Zair knew better. He had allowed Mergha to keep this one for too long, she had not killed Barracus out of sheer self interest, as her body had never recovered from their violent coupling or the toll of the pregnancy. Zair had underestimated her cunning yet again, instead of being forged to the will of the father, his offspring had been molded irreparably the mother. Barracus was useless to him now.
Father and son tore up the forest floor around them in their violent battle, the thunderous roars and snarls sent what few animals lingered in the area fleeing for miles around. Zair was fast and experienced, his strength was legendary, but his son was truly his heir. For the first time in his life, Zair felt a hint of fear, it did nothing to lessen his ferocity but he was so confused by the alien emotion he hesitated for less than a breath. It was enough, eyes alit with a savage triumph, Barracus darted in and struck the final blow. Blood flew in an arc through the air, splattering the surrounding flora as well as Barracus himself. The purewalker rose slowly, his sides heaving, covered in a mix of blood, both his own and his father's, he turned his back on Zair's still body and limped towards the cave where he would finish his double parricide.
-------------
Megha quickened her pace, looking over her shoulder, she half expected to see Zair's powerful form rising out of the forest below to chase her. Cold and frightened, a misplaced paw sent her skidding down the rocky path a few feet, loose rubble and pebbles clicking their way down past her as she collided with a large boulder which broke her fall. The impact jarred her weak body, she clenched her teeth and squeezed her eyes shut against the sudden pain. Twigs snapped below her and her eyes flew open as she lurched up the path once more, he had found her.
She reached the top, panting, stumbling over the uneven cliff top. Long ago she had set a trap here, when she still had the strength to do such things. All she had to do was lure Zair into just the right spot and she could send the mountain of small bounders and jagged logs down upon him in a deadly rain. She hadn't ever had the chance to test it, but she had no other chance to survive this encounter. Shifting herself to find a fairly comfortable hiding space behind the trap's trigger, she settled in to wait.
The light was fading, Barracus had been surprised to find the cavern empty, he hadn't seen his mother move in years. He followed the strongest scent trail up the narrow path, placing each paw carefully and testing each ledge before shifting his whole weight. He spotted the fresh cascade of rocks and smelled the heady scent of blood before sighting the red smear across the boulder. His eyes glazed, his mouth watered, it was almost over. When he reached the top, Mergha was no where in sight, he tilted his head and listened intently. There, faint ragged breaths tickled his ears, she was here, concealed from sight if not from smell or hearing. The hairs on the back of his neck rose, something was not right here. Mergha would not run from him, so she must have sensed Zair's presence. Any purewalker worth his pelt would be able to track her by scent, she knew that, she could not hope to prevail against Zair's brute strength, but her survival instinct was high. She would not have come up here if she had not had some plan to survive the encounter. If she sensed any danger from him, she could just as easily spring the trap on him.
Barracus stood in an open patch and considered his options. A grin twitched at the corner of his mouth as he let his newfound confidence drain away for the moment, adopting a hunched look he allowed himself to stumble. "Mother," he called, his voice resigned, cowed, hesitant. What she would expect from him. She did not know he knew his own power now.
Mergha's head poked out from her hiding spot. It was Barracus' voice, not Zair's that reached her ears. She trembled a bit in excitement as she saw her offspring covered in blood. She took a deep breath, his own certainly, but Barracus was also blanketed in Zair's scent and claw and bite marks scored his body. She fixed him with triumphant green eyes, her haughtiness returning as she realized the danger was past, and stepped forth, her wasted legs trembling a bit from the burden of her own weight. "Not even skilled enough to dispose of an inconvenience without damaging yourself in the process. Now look, you shall be months healing, don't expect a lighter workload simply because you are too weak to deal with even a single intruder. Stupid and selfish, thats what you are."
She stepped closer to him, meaning to go down the path again to the warmth and comfort of her den, she would have him bring her something to eat, and then she would take a long nap to recover from her scare.
Barracus' eyes glinted dangerously as his mother's words dripped hatefully into his ears, each syllable hitting him like a blow. She was skilled, manipulative, already he felt himself qualing a bit at her tone. But no, she was too dangerous to be allowed to live, too spiteful. He was wounded, would require time to heal before he recovered his full strength, but weakened as he was, he still had more than enough left for this.
Barracus gazed deeply into Mergha's eyes, he had spotted the trap when she stepped away from it. Easily sidestepped the area where she would be able to spring it on him. There was no need to reply to her venom. It was over, she was over. Adrenaline thrilled through his veins, he had her cornered. He revelled in the fear that flashed in her eyes as he stepped closer, edging her towards the precipice that loomed behind her.
I'm afraid I don't have any more use for you mother. His voice was silky, merciless, his pupils constricted as he leapt foreword.
...............
His mother took a long time to die. When he finally heaved her remains over the edge, he was certain that she regretted his treatment of him, in the end, she had repented, and he had granted her sweet release from the torment her life had become. Her hollow green eyes had continued to stare at him rudely while he dragged her back to the edge. His relief was palpable as he watched her pale form tumble wildly down into the darkness below. She was gone, he was free. He leaned down to try to see where she had landed after hearing the distant crunch of her landing. A glint of green, there, she was still watching him. Spooked, he backpedalled away from the edge and shifted, every hair on his body standing on edge as he launched himself away from the edge, away from the memories, away from Mergha's stench. He would leave this place and find new hunting grounds to terrorize. As he ran, Mergha's soft, mocking chuckle echoed within the cavern of his skull...
So Barracus ran faster.
FIN
▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
