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Post by Josef Ibn-Abad on Nov 10, 2009 21:01:06 GMT -5
Sombra was not into the talking mood, Josef would not push her. The egg shells continued to cover the floor. Even tough neither was truly speaking, it did feel as though an entire conversation was taking place. Syrians were masters of unspoken words. Josef, though quiet, allowed his mind too travel back to his Grandfather when his grandfather had tried countless times to teach Josef the proper way to handle a woman. It had been during one of their usual saturday conversations that the patriarch of the Abad families would pass on the moral obligations of the male side of the family. "You understand, do you not?" Grandfather spoke, kneeling down next to Josef. Rugged and tired, the Grandfathers face showed the signs of living so many years in a hot aired enviorment. His hands were placed on Josef's shoulders, as his equally almond colored eyes stared into the family heirs. "You simply can not do that with women. It is inappropriate, unacceptable and will get you and your family into very much trouble." There were points in which his english was broken, realizing that Josef was being prepped by his father for life in the states. Though Arabic was their native tongue, Grandfather would oblidge Josef's fathers wishes and continue with english to enhance the younger Ibn-Abads skills. "But I thought..." Josef tried to reply, one hand rubbing his elbow. Wearing denim shorts, a t-shirt and sandles, he was covered in sand. The signs that he had been out and about like all boys and simply getting dirty while playing.
"There is absolutely no buts about it." Grandfather shook Josef, as if trying to instill the point phsyically. "Inappropriate, do you understand me?"
"but..."
"I said no buts!" The harshness of Grandfathers backhand across the left cheek of Josef sent the boy to the ground, tears welling in his eyes as a welt formed on his cheek; the welt almost a perfect mold of the older mans hand. His eyes flared with rage, with anger as the constant disrespect Josef was showing by trying to continue a conversation that Grandfather had wanted finished.
It was here the women of the family, his mother and aunts arrived, ushering Josef away. His mother wrapped him just inside her silk cloak and took her to the womens side of the home, a traditional aspect that the children be seen with their mother. Obviously his had seen enough and now wanted her son by her side. "All I was doing was playing soccer. She wasn't even on my team." Josef explained, "How is soccer bad?"
"Quiet child." His mother whispered, putting a hand upon his shoulder. Josef placed a hand over his cheek, the exact spot his Grandfather had previously struck. The memory was painful yet served as the starting point that would change and alter the Syrians perception of women when compared to his families. They would have lashed him for allowing Sombra into his home, would have lashed him for allowing her to wear his clothes, would have lashed him giving comfort and cooking for her. In fact there were a lot of things they would have lashed him for. The interesting thing was, as his gaze momentarily turned towards Sombra before going back to the television, he simply did not care. Ibn-Abad was his own man whom made his own decisions. Parts of his life stung yet he accepted them and knew they only helped in making him the man he had become. "You know, in my culture, having the television on is taboo. My family thinks that all television is corrupting, well except Al Jazeera but we won't go into what Al Jazeera is known for." Small talk but still something of a converse. "What board games have you played in the past? If your interested I have Monopoly and Ants in the Pants... please don't ask why I have Ants in the Pants..." he smirked. Ok so his small talk was probably not helping the situation but at least it was something, "Where do you hail from? If you don't mind me asking? Where are you from? You're family's lineage..." Even as he spoke he was understanding, once again what set him different from his Grandather and Father. He understood that as an Alpha, the wolf inside assisted in his development. He respected women, though that respect would never tread to abuse and as he glanced at Sombra, his eyes once more making contact... it felt... right so to speak, though he was certain to not keep them locked for too long as to not make either uncomfortable. |
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*sombra delgadillo
[b]xxlaLOBAxx [/b] ?What loneliness is more lonely than distrust??
Posts: 284
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Post by *sombra delgadillo on Nov 11, 2009 1:31:41 GMT -5
 Cultures are not always quite so nurturing as one might want them to be. In fact, it is a common practice to facilitate humans’ need for order through toughening of hearts that were born sensitive and creating boundaries in unnatural places. Sometimes these impositions come to good use. Other times they are but a hindrance to the development of the species. Once these molds have been formed, too, it is difficult to find freedom whilst remaining an accepted figure in society. Then again, the desire to affiliate oneself with such a primitive form of life is sometimes absent. Or at least it has been said that is the case. Adopting the collaborative ideals of a social group is a risk – a blanket of ignorance in which one must trust the wisdom of others without question lest you be called a fool for being a victim of apathy. Of course that leads to the question of whether or not apathy is a sin or not. Some, mostly snobbish scholars who do nothing but preen behind their desks, seem to think that apathy will lead to the world’s destruction. And how, pray tell, do they deem apathy such a danger? Why the world would simply implode if it were filled with the unanimous disinterest of the common ignorant! After all is stupidity not the most disgusting of sins? And what is stupid? Anyone with an IQ lower than said scholars, naturally. A truly laughable theory, that. Humans were ridiculous after all. Not that Sombra had much of a recollection of being one. There were few moments where she was completely human – the wolf guarded against such moments. It was almost offended by the idea that the biped thought itself capable of functioning without the canine in the forefront of thinking. After all, it was the strategist, the predator…the survivor, wasn’t it? Perhaps it made sense to let it reign supreme, but as a human or at least half human Sombra had a tendency to rear away from the logical especially in those hopelessly sad moments. Indeed, her emotions – vague as they were – were very much human. To place a label on them is difficult but in summary sadness, loneliness, frustration, pain, confusion and resignation all come to mind. How can one win a fight against oneself after all? Not that Sombra tried – there was no instance in which she could begin to discover how to win such a battle. No matter how she approached it there had to be a loser. And like a civil war there was nothing but friendly fire in an internal brawl. Subconsciously the wolf was monitoring the Syrian’s motion though beyond that it paid him little heed. At present he was not thought so much a threat – she figured if he had wished harm upon her doing it in the vulnerable state of her slumber would have been the prudent course of action. Though she was not much more of a fight at this point while she was wide awake. Breathing through her nostrils to stifle a heavy, disappointed sigh – she had hoped to be healed by this morning, only to find herself aching and still rather…broken. She reasoned he was thinking – otherwise he would doubtlessly be talking. He had a habit of doing that, talking. Sombra’s parents had named her aptly, though because of their lack of interest in her very being they could not have possibly known they had done well. And if they had known she doubted they would have cared. The children were an afterthought, as they had proven to her and Amber. At the very mention of her younger sibling in her thoughts the woman’s eyes misted and she stopped breathing to withhold unexpected tears. They were of course a product of a mixture of exhaustion and emotion that she often held at bay. The wolf had grown accustomed to the tenderness of that subject. It even almost understood – family was of importance, siblings in particular. It could understand the bitterness of death. Despite her resilience, she was growing tired again. So soon. she complained internally, though the rant that threatened to spill over was cut short by Josef’s sudden motion. The film that had come over her intense oculi diminished in a blink as she stared at him. Watching the antic that denoted reminiscing, her brow ticked in inquiry but she did not speak. When he did break the silence it was only to comment on the traditional discontent with television in his culture. Sombra was somewhat less than surprised. The human within blushed for a moment – she had no idea what Al Jazeera was. Don’t get me wrong, Sombra was cultured, but television was unimportant so different broadcasting meant little to nothing to the she-wolf. She was squinting at him she realized, her pupils having narrowed as she thought over his words and she tried to lighten her gaze – appear less intense. That rarely worked though and she continued to give off that skeptical aura. ”I will refrain from asking why you have it. But I would venture to inquire what it is.” She was frowning now, a light inquisitive frown that seemed curious…in an either comical or precious way; perhaps both. He was grasping at straws as far as conversation went – bringing up subjects that didn’t matter to either of them. But, staying true to her nature, she did not intervene. Where do you hail from… That particular query induced a smirk, ”Interesting choice of words.” Pausing, she leant back, supporting herself on her palms and managing not to wince as her ribs spread with the action. ”I’m originally from the suburbs around Paris. After I was old enough to travel though…I’ve been to a few places. You probably know I call California home base at present.” It was said amusedly, though she paused in response to the portion about heritage. She hadn’t a clue. Never cared to research it. ”Judging by the last names my mother was French and my father was Russian.” It was said with apathy – her parents were of no importance. ”I would counter the question but yours is fairly obvious. Were you close to your family?” The fact that she wasn’t made her rather curious about the idea of a functional familial body. Though she’d yet to really get into detail about her own procreators’ failures. Ah well. We can’t all just divulge it all can we? Girl’s gotta guard her loins like the rest of ‘em. _____________________________________________Tags: Josef
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Post by Josef Ibn-Abad on Nov 11, 2009 13:57:36 GMT -5
"With my mother, I was oddly enough. Well honesty I could have been considered close to everyone in my family, if for no other reason than based on the amount of time I had spent with them. Back in Syria, a boy is raised to understand that based on Islam, a man is the head of the family and no matter what a woman does in her life, she would always be beneath a woman. My grandfather and father spent much of their free time trying to lecture me on the importance of being a man." As Josef spoke, his mind flashed back to specific memories, as if reminding him of all the hypocritical view points his family held. "Syrian life was hard and my father and grandfather were ironed willed and staunchly determined to put their thinking, their line of thought into my head but my mother had always been there as a counter balance. I spent more time with her than I should have based on custom, though she also held the same view points as the men. In the states, people here called it conformity. When word got around that my father was sending me to America for an education with the idea that I would one day return to Damascus, start up a family of my own and take on the moral code of my people; there were mixed resolves. Some people thought it was a great idea since even residents of the middle east respect the education one can get at a more prestiguous school such as N.Y.U or Yale while some thought I would fail and be swayed by America's culture. My grandmother wanted me sent to Cambridge but as fate would have it, the one time my Father stood up to his parents, I was shipped to the states."
"It is odd. They are a seven hour flight away, a phone call or email away and yet the minute I landed on American soil; everything seemed to change. That closeness that was essential in the Syrian households was not shared here. I did not have someone constantly looking over my shoulder and for once I could actually breath. At one point, I guess you could say, I had been extremelly close but as I learned and began to understand my own ethnic background by observing them from outside looking in, I noticed things I did not like. Specifically when it came to my faith." Josef glanced back at Sombra, putting the television on mute as he spoke, "When I graduated with my Masters in Accounting, I had to make the call to my family back in Damascus. They were expecting me to tell them when my return flight would be and yet... blew a top when I said I was not coming home. Outright disrespect towards ones family as I showed would receive lashings, which is why I never went home. I simply went about my own life. Do not get me wrong, I have a loyalty to my family. Should they ever need anything, I will as a moral obligation assist them but... I can not be them." the muscles in his face tensed slightly, "Did that even make sense?" He chuckled.
"I don't know. I love my mother and respect her as a son should but I do not think I can look up to a woman who allows herself to be... dominated in such a way by a man and I certainly can not look at my father nor' Grandather as role models when they warp their faith, their culture to the point of near abuse towards their spouses." He shook his head. "It's frustrating though it was a culture shock coming here. Women in dresses, skirts, rock music, television, it had almost been a bit too much, though I was able to adapt while keeping my sense of being a Syrian. Thankfully, here in the States, I have no family." This actually brought him to another point, "They are highly judgmental... like I said," his gaze averted from her own, "They'd be unhappy though I could just imagine their reaction with me being something that my culture deems an agent of Satan."
He smirked, "Yeah, Syrians had a thing about creatures whom are not human either being good and evil and unless you have white feathery wings shooting out your back, your an servant of the Devil. Charming isn't it? Granted, I don't care what my culture nor family would think of me. I'm Josef Ibn-Abad and my wolf has allowed me opportunities and experiences I would never trade away. Nothing beats a good shift and run through the woods, in my opinion. Much better than running on two long legs... still, I think a time will come when they will find out. Either I will tell them or they will inadvertently learn some way but I would pay to be there to see their expressions!" he laughed, a soft subtle laugh yet it did hold a pure happiness to it. Pride beamed from Josef when he spoke of what he was. "Sorry, I got long winded there but... yeah. My wolf is my family now and the only family I have needed for a long while. Even though I have a pack, a pack I would die for, they could never be too close. Alpha's, unfortunately, have a reputation of holding those whom are not on their level at arms length away at all times. How about yourself? Have you ever had someone inadvertently find out you were a wolf?"
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*sombra delgadillo
[b]xxlaLOBAxx [/b] ?What loneliness is more lonely than distrust??
Posts: 284
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Post by *sombra delgadillo on Nov 11, 2009 14:48:11 GMT -5
In fact a pop star that comes to mind is Paris Hilton. What a friggin’ slut. And to be quite frank, anyone who coins the phrase “That’s hot!” as their signature deserves to be disemboweled. A gruesome death for a gory life. Yes, I termed Hilton’s existence a gory one – it’s filled with the twisting gut of inheritance, the rancid stench of vomit and the perverse coming and going of men. Any psychologist could solve the equation; getting back at daddy complex. Such fun with Freud. Isn’t it beautiful how family can screw itself so well? I would submit that family is probably the best preserved parasite. It feeds upon itself until nothing remains but a memory of what it once was and a vision of what it could have been. There’s nothing worse than a cannibal that chews on itself.
The moment Sombra uttered that question she was aware that the response would not be a short one. But what she had expected and what she received were two very different things – the vast difference? Time. The Syrian enjoyed speaking, obviously, and was going to exercise that power upon her so long as she continued to converse. Though it seemed she did more listening than talking – a trend in Sombra’s life. It was an extensive speech, one that she could relate to in some parts while in others she could not even venture to fathom the depth of emotion that was probably wound up into the issue. She had never experienced the instilling of morals, never witnessed her parents in the same room for longer than ten minutes, and would never have to face them again.
In essence all of Sombra’s family was dead. Her pack…did not really count. Biological ties ran deep, far deeper than any adoption which was what she termed pack life as. It was the formation of an unnatural family group in order to survive impending doom. Yes, impending doom. As far as respecting her parents went she could absolutely side with Josef – her parents were pitiful excuses for beings. Then again they were only humans. So was Amber, she quietly reminded herself. Though she’d gone over the various possible outcomes that situation may have taken if she’d turned Amber. What if she’d thought to convert her and make her a wolf? It was only a recent thought but yet another source of guilt in which Sombra browbeat herself for not having thought of it at that crucial point.
Josef seemed conflicted – uncertain almost, despite the guise of amusement as to whether or not showing his family what he’d become would be a good idea. Frankly Sombra was a fan of the “Stick it to the man” philosophy and so she probably would have flaunted her beasty self before them without a second thought. And here we come back to the idea of Alienation. Sombra was a pro at it – both alienating herself and others. It seemed he caught himself after some time of speaking, mouth probably went dry or something. Arching a brow at the inquiry she had to think. So much of her memory was foggy, patched or just not there. It was probably the way she lived – a wolf one second, a human the next who was barely reining in the monster. Not that she didn’t adore the lupine, it was a bit of a beast though. Her cinnamon gaze descended, her eyes glazing as she sifted through the sparse memoirs that she had access to. The wolf probably knew more but as per its usual stubborn self it did not divulge. Pursing her lips, she came to her first shocking encounter.
”My younger sister and I discovered it at the same time, and yes it was something of a shock but we adapted.” She didn’t pause much before her next recollection, having no interest in going into details about Amber. ”Mike may have found out…I don’t remember.” It was said absent mindedly as she wound through the twists in her mind. ”Jerome, an ex boyfriend, found out because of my own carelessness. He about had a heart attack and then had to reconcile being with me…” Anyone else she had known had been either vampire or werewolf and so they knew immediately exactly what the she-wolf was. Grunting softly, she hefted herself up to sit up on the couch, slowly tipping to lay limp in the pillows with a sigh – somewhat relieved to give her body a rest. How on earth could sitting up be such a hassle? It was beginning to annoy her, and the human felt the wolf’s anger bubble in her veins – a familiar apprehension dawning on her that made the hair on her neck stand on end. You see, the wolf was not only self destructive…but after the implosion occurred the explosion followed.
Its impatience was obvious to her but less obvious to any onlooker, who would observe her stoic features as fairly normal for her demeanor. Who would have guessed that she had been born a happy baby. Though her childhood self didn’t last very long..seven years, they were filled with smiles at small things. Now? The smiles came intermittently, and sometimes were more smirks of amusement than anything. It was enough to make one appreciate the expression because of its illusive nature. It had been proposed that it lightened her entire features, even her aura. Her eyes glittered and her teeth shone and even her shoulders loosened. There were few if any laugh lines at her eyes, for obvious reasons which had kept her face youthful even as she aged. A good alternative to Botox perhaps…
”So I guess there have been a few…but nothing really life altering about the encounters. Just what one might expect. We’re a shocking spectacle, no way around it.” It was said solemnly, her murky gaze flitting towards the mute screen with a smirk. ”Often in as much disguise as they are.” She was of course referring to the actors. ”That is..until we decide that the masks just aren’t going to cut it. That it’s better to be a freak of nature than to be a liar.” Of course, this was the human talking. The wolf would have never referred to itself as such. Sombra’s human had decidedly less pride, far more mild mannered and somewhat peaceful in demeanor. ”Or maybe I’m just being ridiculous and we’re the natural ones.” Chuckling at the idea, she shook her head, rubbing the side of her features against the pillow as a source of comfort – disregarding the various scents on it. She allowed her eyelids to dip closed, though the tick of her brow was enough to indicate she was still conscious and listening…
_____________________________________________Tags: Josef
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Comments: Daw.Shesocute=x |
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Post by Josef Ibn-Abad on Nov 13, 2009 9:19:18 GMT -5
"Of course we are the natural ones. Whether someone wants to call it Darwins Natural selection or the intervention of a higher power, we are certainly one step above the human species. We have abilities and attributes that make us primal and yet more civilized at the same time." Sombras has made a comment about them being the natural ones and that had more than sparked Josef's outright curiosity and opinion on the matter. "I find it alluring, what you and I can do but I think the only argument that could be made about us is our elusiveness. Other wolves, counting wolves with a dominance trait can not quite understand what sets us apart; why we are as we are."
Josef had always been slightly different, well distanced really from his pack. There were things in his personal life that none of them had a clue about. Mike had most ideas, Josef had been trying to groom him into the proper Alpha status but it had been the subtle hints of Mikes affiliation with Vampires that unhinged him. Given the recent events that Ibn-Abad had suffered at the hands of Vampires, the Alpha simply would not tolerate them crossing his paths. Granted, he had an uneasy and unspoken treaty with the New York Coven, a Coven which did not run about attacking his wolves and one that his pack did not bother. Normally a wolf would have driven out another predator from their turf but this coven had softened, weakened and were of no threat to anyone... not even humans. Still, in all honesty, Josefs plans for retribution were in motion. He was a wolf, first and foremost and the tolerance for Vampires in New York had begun to wear thin. Soon... very soon... events would take place that would rid this city of any coven. New York City was Josef Ibn-Abads turf. No one elses. Not even a Vampires.
Yet taking his thoughts back to his pack, Josef had understood that with their abandonment of his rule, it was possibly a safe bet that they did not want to answer to a man who would not answer back. He was an Alpha. He answered to no one. "When we get down to, as America calls it, the nitty gritty of things, no one will ever understand that you and I are as natural as a tall oak. Its humans, it's vampires which are the unnatural of the world. Humans are closed minded and Vampires are walking dead. Only wolves are tuned into their natural environment." Abad explained.
When thinking about what set him and his pack apart and what made him and Sombra so similar was the issues that the two Alpha's probably expected being in their position. A fight. At any time either could have been challenged for their position, for their territory or for both. Yet, for Josef that never came. His Beta never challenged him, no outside wolves dared raise a voice to him. Perhaps it was the Syrian blood that intimidated, the overall surprise of having an Arab leading a pack of New York Wolves. Perhaps Josefs wolf was simply strong enough to show off his abilities without actually having to put them on display. Did other wolves know ahead of time whether they stood a chance against Josef or not? If so, then he had yet to meet someone whom could go twelve rounds with him.
Until now.
Across the couch from him was a predator. Someone as naturally tuned to what she was as he. Her strength was slightly less than his but not by much yet she held an advantage over him. Speed. Given her figure, the shape of her wolf, she was built for speed and power. Josef could already tell he was not that fast. So it seemed to level out that in a fight both would be pretty well matched. It was here, in this moment, that Ibn-Abad caught himself. He was again, sizing her up, yet not in the 'I'ma rip your throat out way'. Even as his gaze had previously broken, he was fondly curious of her. What could she do? What couldn't she do? Josef was becoming...
...playful?
Would that be the right word?
"What's the worst injury you have sustained in a fight?" Josef asked. "And how long did it take you to recover from it?"
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*sombra delgadillo
[b]xxlaLOBAxx [/b] ?What loneliness is more lonely than distrust??
Posts: 284
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Post by *sombra delgadillo on Nov 13, 2009 11:50:12 GMT -5
She was torn from her grim musings by his voice ringing out one again, a brow ascending at the reference to pop lingo. Nitty gritty? WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?! Sombra was an American and had no idea what nitty gritty was but was fairly certain it could not be found in the dictionary. And if it was she would be relocating back to Paris. Maybe Estonia. Who knew, the wolf seemed to favor Cairo but the human was probably too soft to enjoy such extreme conditions. ”Comprehension is just a formality. The reality that individuals live in is formatted by what their brain can handle and nothing else.” Blinking slowly, pristinely as she often did, she observed the alpha as he continued to ponder things. She allowed her lids to slide closed once again, the room filled with only the sound of their breathing which seemed almost a conversation in itself. She was vaguely curious of what constantly entertained his thoughts – something that invoked odd periods of silence where she was left to make herself stay focused.
She was lazing at this point though, not bothering to mull anything in particular over at this point. She was too tired to process or to over-think the situation; a nasty habit of the human’s fueled by estrogen. The human Sombra would be deleted to indulge in reveling in the company of a mature adult…male. She had nothing better to do than watch him convert oxygen into carbon dioxide but frankly the exercise seemed wanton and promiscuous. So much so that she could not condone doing so. It’s likely that she behaved far more maturely than most her age would. Was that what responsibility had done to her? Probably. Somewhere within was the absence of will to engage in such behaviors – brazen was okay, but flirtatious? It was something more elusive than the loch-ness monster. So while Abad was staring at her there was simply the sensation of being watched but no tracking of his stare. The wolf probably would have lashed out had it witnessed the cataloging of her frame. Luckily for Josef it had missed that bit of the encounter.
His next inquiry made her crack an eye, her brows rising as if to ask Seriously? Unfortunately she had to think on it. The injuries were sometimes far more theatric than real. They healed quickly and so were not really as traumatic as it would seem they might be. Smirking as the memory hit her, the wolf of course thought this one worth sharing. ”Maybe two years ago I was feelin’ pretty spunky and decided I wanted to duke it out with some ancient blood sucker. So we get to fighting and I assume you know how it is – time flies when you’re having fun. We must have been going at it for a while ‘cause he’s getting frustrated and slams me up against some wall. Starts some internal bleeding. No biggy though..that kinda thing heals pretty fast. Hurts something fierce though. So I’m coughing up blood which brings him to a frenzy so I bring out the kerosene and the matches and light this car on fire. He sees the danger coming and is scrambling to get away – same as me. Well, he catches fire in the explosion and I catch a side of glass. Had to be over a hundred little needles all over my face and neck and torso. And I think he’s dead cause it got silent and I can’t hear him and then the creeper jumps out on me and rakes some kind of machete down my back. That didn’t go over well. So he ends up dismember…and I’m picking glass out of myself for something like eight hours.”
Recovery was more difficult to judge. But she had recalled all the pain as her spine healed and all those itching little needle incisions. ”Well the glass wasn’t exactly clean so that tried to go septic about a day later so I had to get antibiotics for that and lots of alcohol to clean it. My back probably took three months to heal cause he caught some complicated nerves and the edges of a few vertebrae. Those aren’t fun to let heal.” Not to mention the problem it had presented with food. She had literally gone a week at a time just drinking water before dragging herself up to find food and then go another week without. It had been miserable and pathetic but she was still breathing…And healed…though there was a clean line of scar tissue down the left side of her spine that followed the curve. It was quite pale – not that nasty pink sort – and almost seemed silver in some light. But thanks to the wolf genes it could only be seen at a certain angle. Go figure. Wolf helps you stay pretty and alone.
_____________________________________________Tags: Josef
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Comments: Um. Ow. NO OGLING SOM! |
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Post by Josef Ibn-Abad on Nov 14, 2009 14:03:38 GMT -5
Her story was much like his own, not th exact same story but it was one in which he could strongly relate. The antagonist had been a Vampire, a creature that his cultured a spawn of the Devil himself. Mercenaries and murderers to spread the will of Satan throughout the world, to pray on those faithful to God, or so the stories had been told that way. It was quite the contrary. He had heard rumors that some Vampires showed remorse or hesitation towards the taking of human lives. Frankly Josef had never met a Vampire with such a contrast of personality to the others of their species and in all honesty, he would not want too. A vampire was a vampire. They still had to take a life to sustain themselves. Sombra and Josef could take a life; they could destroy the physical vessel which carried a spirit. The key point was they could, they did not have too. Josef had taken lives and he had killed Vampires; albeit he had not set out too do so, he had done it on his quest for personal salvation; a salvation from a hell that Vampires had laid upon him.
"Awhile back, I had been the target to an assassination attempt. All anyone knows about in respect to that was a Federal Agent Casimir Goetschls part of the story. Frankly, I don't like him but I can understand why people only want to hear what happened to him. Hes the supposed authoritative figure who overcame tribulation to survive. Rumor took it he became a wolf but I couldn't care less. What most people don't know is the toll my pack and I took in that incident." Josef began, his mind slowly pulling back his memories. "I remember the night when it had begun. I had foolishly called the Bureau for help in solving some peculiar banking transcations that did not add up. Little did I know that some dead wench had been skimming money off my bank and when she learned that my pack and the Bureau figured it out, a hit was put out. I was shot several times," his finger pointed to each spot on his chest, "here..." he said pointing to his left shoulder, "here..." he pointed to his lower right rib cage, "here..." he pointed to the left side side of his rib cage, "and here..." he pointed to a spot that was slightly off center from the chest. "That last shot missed my aorta by millimeters. After that I had been drugged, given ketamine which my body had a reaction too. I couldn't shift at first. When I tried, I would get through it part way, then would be forced back into my human form. After that attack, the rest of my pack had become targeted. I guess the stress of that or the stress I put them under demanding them to stay out of public limelight drove then away. Either way... they left for their own safety. Or so I assume."
"Have you ever taken a life, Miss Sombra? It's unique. The first time I did, it was a human. I had found the location of this Vampire and simply walked through the front doors of their home. The Vampire fled but those I could get my hands on felt my wrath. Two humans and a Vampire fledgling." His eyes glazed as the memory, the smell of smoke, the sight of fire filled his eyes. "During the ruccus one of the humans had smashed a lamp into my left knee, dislocating the patela. I'm sorry, a bullet stings but try walking with a dislocated patella. Ouch! So even though Ive been shot and drugged, the one injury I would have to say was the worst was a dislocated knee cap. I had to reset it myself and there's only one way to reset it. You have to ball your first and hit it dead center. It slides right back into place. My human yell in pain almost turned into a howl." Josef laughed.
"Vampires... if there was a way to rid the world of them all, I would. Unlike you and me, they are most definitely not natural and too an earlier point, at least we don't have eighty people running around, calling himself the wolf-man like Vampires seem to have of people called Lestat." A sneer escape his lower lip at the continued thought of the undead, resulting in a weird sensation. Frustration which caused his skin to momentary feel itchy. "Goons, the lot of them." he joked.
Word count: 775
Tags: Sombra
Comments: He's so cute! Mr. Tough-Woofy =S
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*sombra delgadillo
[b]xxlaLOBAxx [/b] ?What loneliness is more lonely than distrust??
Posts: 284
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Post by *sombra delgadillo on Nov 16, 2009 11:03:15 GMT -5
Yet another survival technique of the wolf. Almost rolling her eyes at the thought, she made herself focus on the sound of his voice, and more keenly the words he said. A dislocated knee. That sounded interesting and Sombra silently took note to try it on her next brawl. Though for face value she simply nodded in response – submitting that she had listened and comprehended the statement without truly adding anything of consequence. She was tiring quickly and a bed sounded nicer and nicer as the human thought about it. How long had it been since she slept in an actual bed? Probably two months…maybe three. He was on a tirade about killing vampires. Arching a brow, she smirked, those large hazel eyes ticking to stare at him amusedly. ”Sounds like genocide, someone been reading too many Hitler books?” Ever seen Valkyrie? That was what happened to communist dictators who tried to exorcise the world of a race…
Getting the image of Josef in a Nazi uniform induced yet another smirk though she did so discreetly so she perhaps would escape the hassle of explanation. It would probably offend him anyway – the politically incorrect probably was unwelcome as her morbid sense of humor. However, the she-wolf within perked at the sight of that frigid look, the ferocity in that gaze and the masked loathing that he attempted to cover with an awkward jest. Again, she was amused. He needn’t hide his disdain for her sake. There was a long list of things that the alphess would not abide. It just so happened that pretenders was one of them. He was trying to lighten the mood. Why bother? She was a metaphorical prisoner and to some degree she was at his mercy. Though if things got too ludicrous she’d put up a decent fight by now. Her stare ticked in the general direction of a window, examining the shadow and angle of the light thoughtfully – telling time. It was the afternoon.
She’d managed to stay awake til the afternoon. Shocking, or at least the human though so, the wolf was not so interested in the time so long as sleep was soon to come. Risking a short, absolutely painful, stretch she glanced at him. ”I need to go back to sleep.” It was stated in a quiet, disgruntled voice – sleeping was such a waste of time. Sighing, she managed to heave herself upright – sitting there and gathering inspiration to rise and seek out the offered bed. It did sound lovely, the human thought. Lifting her gaze to him again, she stared for several long seconds – regarding him, a habit she’d begun to form. Seemingly satisfied with said calculation, she stood and began to move towards the stairs, eyeing them more as an adversary than anything in the house thus far. Taking the first step, she nearly yelped but bit down on her lower lip instead and proceeded to climb the stair case. Nearly panting as she reached the top, she turned her head first one way – sniffing, then the other. Turning in the direction that his scent came more strongly from, she found the room with no more trouble and had no more entered it than sat down on the bed. Glancing at the door adjoined to it she sighed. Sombra had to pee. Squinting at the door with annoyance, she waited – after Josef had made it obvious he was going to be gone for a time then she’d make use of the toilet. Not before.
_____________________________________________Tags: Josef
Tally: 753
Comments: bahahaha =x |
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Post by Josef Ibn-Abad on Nov 18, 2009 9:09:08 GMT -5
Shopping for a woman was not easy. At all. Each woman had different tastes, different likes in what they wanted to wear but usually all wanted the same thing when it came to intimates... good quality. The issue was like a man with a car, they wanted something that would last. Josef knew the place but it was the actual shopping aspect that made it a bit of a unique issue. His engine roared reeved as he turned down one street and too the next, his destination was home. The shopping trip was complete and the classic candy cane stripped bags known only from Victoria Secret sat on the seat besides him. Unlike actual candy canes which were a red on white look, VS bags had a dark pink on a lighter pink striping. It gave them their own bit of flair and proclaimed to the world 'Guess where I just went shopping!' Still the experience had been unique. From the instant he entered the front door of the store he had been bombarded with what was suppose to be sensually appealing images of barely covered women with scents and sounds that were suppose to ignite the shopper within Salim. Granted, the Syrian needed no motivation to shop; it was the efforts of the store and its employees which failed miserably. Male wolves and... well... all wolves in general were not known to drool over every picture of a woman with cleveage. In fact, Salim avoided those photos. He had class, style and etiquette. He would have no problem saying a woman was attractive yet he would not stare at her like a fourteen year old boy looking at his first playboy. Up his personal street, his home came into view and as he hit a speed bump, one of the many bags fell to the floor of the passengers side. Was Sombra still there? Was she still around or would she have bolted? Josef did not know. A part of him was curious of her, concerned for her well fare and knew she would not last long in another fight. Another part was anxious. Tough he tried not to show it, the wolf within stirred when he was around her. It had been a long while since he had done that, stirred. Pulling into his drive, he grabbed his bags and made his way too the front door. The afternoon sky in New York reminded him of dusk on the Syrian coast. It was almost always overcast to some degree. With a whiff of the air, he smelt no threats, nothing out of the ordinary. His almost colored eyes ensured that there were no unknown impressions upon his lawn; ensuring no one had stepped near his home. Satisfied he let himself in and made it into the living room. Setting the bags down, his next mission was simple. Removal of tags. When Josef bought someone something, they would never know exactly how much he had spent; though they could get a general idea based on the brand and quality of the item. The second thing he never did was give them a receipt. If they did not like it, they could toss it out. Too Arabs, returning a gift was an insult. It was best to toss it out or let it collect dust. Heading into the kitchen, he returned with a small knife, in order to remove the irritating plastic clip that the tags had been attached too. If Salim pulled on the plastic, the fabric would tear. He had to be careful. First up was the Balconet Lace Bra, purple and lace. A beautiful piece. Most men would have been a fool by just buying a woman a bra without asking her cup size but Josef had a pretty sure idea of Sombras, his eyes were precise. Ok, so the Wolf took a couple glances he should not have but hey; in this instance it served a genuinely important role. Next he removed the clip from the matching panties and set them both in the bag. Next up was a little red number and again it had a matching pair. In total he had gotten Sombra seven different bra's, nearly a dozen or so different panties yet it was not just bras and panties that he had bought the Alphess. She needed actual clothes as well. Having sifted through dozens of designs, Josef had picked out a few for her. This was followed up by various shirts. Sombra had things she needed and only an insensitive boob would have just gotten her under garments. And on top of it all, he had even bought her several pairs of nighties. No not the lacy, see through, come and get me kind. The sort that had pants and a button up long sleeved shirt with matching fuzzy socks to keep warm. She was his guest. He would go out of his way to accommodate. After the clips were removed, he cleaned up, placed everything back into the bags and finally plopped down on the recliner next to the couch. "Miss Delgadillo." Sombra spoke at a normal tone, though undoubtedly her sensitive ears would hear. "I'm back." Still she would have probably heard him pulling up, heard him coming in or even heard him wrestling with the items in the bags. Ah well. Shopping was exhausting so one would truly need to forgive Ibn-Abad for any missteps. Hopefully the Alphess would be appreciative to the gifts about to be had. Word Count: 1006 Note: Aww... he ain't no pig! =D |
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*sombra delgadillo
[b]xxlaLOBAxx [/b] ?What loneliness is more lonely than distrust??
Posts: 284
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Post by *sombra delgadillo on Nov 18, 2009 10:58:34 GMT -5
Blinking slowly, she lay on her back, staring up towards the ceiling. The room was dimly lit – the sole source of light being from the draped window. As her eyelids slid shut, she exhaled. It didn’t take five minutes for the Alphess to fall into dozing. The wolf would always be on edge in new surroundings and every time they moved she would have to be on guard and in wait for the next attack. Sleep was an additional difficulty and it probably would have deprived itself if not for Sombra’s insistence. True to her nature, dreams began to form in her skull. As per usual they were haunting, and served the purpose of stirring her memories. Her conscious mind was not so great at recalling such things, but the wolf’s hidden details were always unveiled in sleep. Currently it was pondering the brawl.
It was somewhat disappointed in the outcome, then again who wouldn’t be – she had broken ribs and various bruises. No this had not been a particularly fun experience. But fun was a foreigner in the land of Sombra. She slept for perhaps forty minutes before the wolf jarred her awake by a ragged snarl that sent her into a series of soft, short inhales – having succeeded in disgruntling her rib cage. Gulping slowly, she propped herself up against the headboard and sighed. Gingerly getting out of bed, she moved to the bathroom and rummaged through the cabinets until she found a towel. Having accomplished that she shut the door and started a shower. It was not until it was hot that she undressed and slipped in – after locking the door. She was under no illusion that that door would fail in keeping anyone of consequence out. But the noise created while they were faced with opening it would alert her.
Allowing the hot water to fall down, sliding over the curves of her skin she simply stood there, palms on the wall beneath the shower head to brace herself as she leaned. Blinking drowsily as droplets tumbled off her lashes, nostrils and lips she completely zoned for something like fifteen minutes. The spell was broken only by Sombra’s desire to be clean given this chance. Eyeing the shampoo and body wash available, she was a little less than concerned with smelling masculine. Any idiot with eyeballs could tell she was no man. Lathering the shampoo into those deep auburn locks, they foamed and dropped into the bottom of the shower as she rinsed a few minutes later. Running her conditioner covered articulations through her now saturated tendrils, she washed with the body wash while her hair absorbed the nutrients before rinsing that too from her head. Without further adieu she turned off the water and pulled back the curtain. Daintily picking the towel off the closed toilet she dried off, and towel dried her hair. Dressing in the pajamas she had worn before she still felt clean which was all that really mattered. Carefully hanging the towel on a rack she assumed was for such things, she wandered back out to the bedroom and sat with the methodical manner of care on the empty window seat.
With just as much effort she pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them and placing her chin aloft as she stared out the window. Her gaze was distant, clearly not focused on the blank wall of drapery in front of her, or even the vague shapes beyond. The wolf was restless. If not for her weakened state she would be pacing. It was just one of those times where she was denying it almost as punishment. The sound of the door downstairs cut said punishment short though. Her gaze slanted down towards the floor and her breath became shallow as she listened to the footsteps and bustling around downstairs. She wanted to assume it was Josef but she wasn’t certain – there was a variety of scents meaning there was more than one person wandering around. Still the wolf was a cantankerous old wench whose pacifism was about comparable to that of a German tank. The panzer. What an epic nickname.
Rising dutifully, she listened – pausing as she opened the door at the sound of a familiar voice. So it was Josef. Well…that helped. With pitiful slowness she made her way down the stairs, truly disliking the exercise. She stopped again at the bottom and schooled her rather pained features. Her walk was controlled, not lazy as it often was but she was not limping. Reaching the origin of his voice, she stood, staring first long and hard at him – as she often did – and then glancing at the bag just long enough to take in the shape before her stare was back upon him. Her brow had ticked to rise on her forehead in inquiry. In “people speak” it was the equivalent of asking What…is that. She could very well discern where it was from. And if the wolf had not been at the forefront in her mind the she wolf would have blushed to her roots just being in the same room with the contents of that bag and any man. There was something incriminating about expensive lingerie for a single woman, something that cut at her somewhat feministic views.
And while her gaze was commanding, there was no “off button” for that, it was not hostile. Simply silent and curious. She was a woman with often very little to say and when she did…sometimes one wished she hadn’t spoken at all. It was always quickly obvious that she was as fierce as her gaze denoted…Surprise surprise.
_____________________________________________Tags: Josef
Tally: 1,087
Comments: Well of course he's not. He's a wolf. x] |
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Post by Josef Ibn-Abad on Nov 20, 2009 9:12:33 GMT -5
Then she came.
Sombra was not like other wolves Josef encountered and he kept telling himself this which each new thing she seemingly did around him. The way she talked, the way she ate, the way she rested, and the way she looked upon him and now; the way she walked. Unlike Josef, who was like many men, heavy footed at times, he barely heard her arrival until she had come downstairs and neared the den. His own eyes had been shut though the left peeked open to take in her sight. So shoving through women while shopping for one he was only now getting to know was exhausting work. The Syrian had a distaste for denim. He absolutely hated it on most occasions. Spending most of his time in the bank, he had grown accustomed to dress slacks and nice shirts but he would not hold his bias towards Sombra. He took in the general idea of what she wore and even threw in a couple of pairs of denim pants. At least they were a higher end brand of denim. He wanted to smirk, he truly did but the only motion his lips made was a slight curve before being forced into their restful state. Delgadillo had the expression of surprise, more than anything.
'So the bag caught her off guard?' Josef asked himself internally.
"It's for you." Josef finally spoke. "The stuff in the bag I mean." Sombra was not a charity case, as Josed was not but she was a lady, a woman, and deserved to be treated as such. Running around in his clothes would only go on for so long before even she would grow tired of it. "I'm sorry if the sizes are not right though I hope they are." He rose from his seat, handed her the bag then retook his seat in the recliner though his eyes were now open, fully and attentive to the she-wolf. It had, in all honesty, been the first time he shopped for a woman. Even with Adela, Josef had only bought her things when she had been around. This time, he took the initiative and got Sombra the essentials. "I do hope you like." He spoke. Ok so perhaps she did not want a man around when she shuffled through the bag just too see exactly what the Alpha had gotten her. She would have privacy. "Excuse me." He smiled, his almond eyes averting their gaze as he left for the kitchen.
Josef loved his kitchen. It was, perhaps, his favorite room in the home. Tidy, clean and a place where he could experiment with cooking dishes from his native land. Granted, he was no professional chef, he tried at least. Grabbing a rag, he took a bottle of 409 from beneath the kitchen sink and began to spray down then scrub the kitchen counters. A clean kitchen was essential and it gave him something to do while he awaited Sombra and her reaction. It definitely beat standing around like a baboon twiddling his thumbs. The smell was strong and with his heightened senses, was slightly irritating. A harsh sneeze was followed with the immediate opening of the window to allow a fresh breeze in. A second sneeze followed then all was right.
From the sink, to the left counter, followed by the stove, refrigerator, right counter and finally the small island, Josef scrubbed. Setting the 409 back beneath the kitchen sink, he rinsed and washed the rag before his own hands then set to work on a late lunch... or early dinner. However one would want to call it. Baked cheddar cheese potato wedges were what he was craving. Grabbing the vegetable from a side bin in a cabinet, he washed and sliced them. This was followed up by putting tinfoil on a cookie sheet, the potato wedges on the sheet and then preheating the oven. After a minute or so, even Josef grew restless waiting and just put the pan in and exited the kitchen and back into the den.
"Are they ok?" Abad asked quietly, leaning against the frame of the entryway, his eyes locked on the woman and the woman alone. It was here that everything else about him faded to nothingness. His focus was on the she-wolf.
Astounding when someone could grasp Josefs attention in such a way.
Simply astounding.
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*sombra delgadillo
[b]xxlaLOBAxx [/b] ?What loneliness is more lonely than distrust??
Posts: 284
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Post by *sombra delgadillo on Nov 20, 2009 13:08:18 GMT -5
Her parents were working this Christmas, but Sombra would not be perturbed. The lights were simply too cheery to let the fact that she was enjoying them in relative solitude bother her. She was often alone, so entertaining herself was not a problem. In an instant, a jumble of long skinny legs and an emerald velvet dress was trying to get underneath the tree. The nurse clucked in an effort to chide the girl out of her current employment but Sombra was ignoring her. The nurse knew she would…Silent but headstrong, Sombra basically did what she wanted within the law of the governing forces. And those forces never said she couldn’t crawl under the tree, did they? Moving to lay on her spine, she was surrounded by glossy, happily wrapped packages with bows on top while her gaze went back to the blurring lights.
For what seemed like hours she simply lay there, Amber eventually settled as well and the nurse enjoyed the peace and quiet. At one point the woman had felt sorry for the children, but had come to accept their situation as much as they did. It was Christmas eve and both parents had notified her that it would be necessary to wake the children at precisely eight and take them down to open their gifts…The nurse would of course do such things. The gifts were always very impersonal, or had been in the past, but this year the parents had opted to let the children’s caretakers do the shopping and therefore the kids would be enjoying a few things they may actually like this year. They’d never been taught to believe in Santa Claus so it was not a particularly big deal – presents.
The following morning Sombra and Amber would brought down as planned, and Sombra proceeded to unwrap one gift, “oo” and “aaah” over it before she promptly took one of Amber’s gifts, sat before her little sister and helped the tyke open it (though it had no comprehension of what the purpose of such an exercise was, it did enjoy the rattle once it was out of the box). Just another Delgadillo Christmas…
It probably would have been prudent to inform Josef on what significance gifts had to the she-wolf to explain exactly why she was eyeing the bag as if it were about to explode. It’s for you, he said. A questioning look was cast first to the striped parcel and back to the Syrian. Gifts were for birthdays and Christmas and even then the adult Sombra had no concept on how to treat such things. She was standing still as he continued to comment – sizes? She looked skeptical for a moment, a small frown curving her lips. I suppose congratulations are in order, you seem to have stumped her. She was still eyeing the bag when he excused himself. Good. Moving silently to the couch to sit, she carefully began to go through the seemingly endless amount of clothing.
Never in her life had she received so much clothing at once…not even when she shopped for herself. For the sake of privacy though she was going over it quickly, checking size tags while marveling at it. The lingerie was a little less than modest…but simply because she was a modest girl didn’t mean she wore modest underwear. She folded the pants and set them in their own stack, and the shirts received a group of their own while the bras and underwear were put quickly back in the bag. After she’d accomplished going through the articles, she rested her elbows on the tops of her legs ever so carefully – sore from the exercise, yes but still processing how to respond. For the life of her she could not recall when she’d received a gift from someone other than her nurses. The memory simply did not exist because it had never happened. She almost resented the gesture now.
Why, though, was the question….Truthfully she was somewhat amused at herself – pathetic, she was a grown woman and had not even the vaguest knowledge on how to accept a gift graciously. Moreover, how could she? It was not in her demeanor to be gracious. At least, the wolf said it wasn’t. Sombra the human…well who knew what she was like anymore. She was staring, long and hard at the clothing – somewhat zoned out when that prickling feeling on the back of her neck alerted her to her spectator. Turning her head ever so slightly, she eyed him for several seconds – standing there in the doorway, much as she would have done. Her pride had been bruised from the entire encounter, and he just kept brow beating it. There were two options – tip her chin and speak, or simply nod and thank him. Her eyes had involuntarily filled with a shining liquid gloss. And true to Sombra Delgadillo’s style she spoke in an almost ragged voice but one not lacking “moxy”. ”They are wonderful, thank you.” It was the first sentence…of two. Clearing her throat after a short pause, her pupils narrowed and she blinked away those pestering tears. ”You know my bra size.” This was delivered almost accusingly as she squinted.
Sure, she had been ogled. But watching him squirm while he admitted it seemed like an interesting idea. Her lips were ticking with amusement in spite of herself but the ferocity of her gaze was unrelenting as she stared, a brow ascending again as she waited for a response – Well? Go on, incriminate yourself so I can stop glaring. She wasn’t exactly offended. Nor was she flattered…as usual the she-wolf was at a loss as to how to feel about it. That was the problem with dealing with social situations. Such foreign things...like nuclear bombs. But they say every mushroom cloud has a silver lining.
_____________________________________________Tags: Josef
Tally: 1,138
Comments: BAHAHAHA. That's what I'd say. |
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Post by Josef Ibn-Abad on Nov 20, 2009 13:45:51 GMT -5
The minute she eye'd him, the minute her gaze turned towards him, Josef saw two things. The first was the clear glossiness that coated them. Tears were forming though what emotion those tears were apart off remained as foreign to Josef as he was foreign to New York. He simply did not know and could do nothing but hope that they were good. The second thing was she actually looked at him. He did not see a she-wolf sitting there, he saw Sombra Delgadillo in a momentary lapse of self-defense, she allowed a more tender side to appear. Abad struck a nerve, again whether it was good or bad, he could not tell. With several blinks, she spoke, and her statement caught him off guard. "You know my bra size." Her gaze was accusing though if she was truly offended; odds were she would have walked out of the room. At least he got the cup size right. It was here that the Alpha had to be careful.
What was he suppose to say that would not get something thrown at him? Could he admit that he had ogled her, checked her out and automatically knew the cup size? How could a man admit to know a bra size by simple sight without coming off as a pig? Could he play it off as a joke, claiming it was a lucky guess or would that just be an insult? Sombra had a great body but the old saying 'get a shovel and just keep digging your grave...' came to mind. It did not matter what Josef said, it would probably sound bad. He would have to be as careful as he could with an explanation. It seemed she was waiting for one. Possibly just wanting to watch him squirm. She would see both.
"I... well..." he got off the leaning stance and made his way back to the recliner while rubbing the back of his head, "I would say lucky guess but I doubt you would believe me so..." this was absoluely embarrassing. Completely and utterly embarrassing and in a weird sense, Josef liked the feeling. "Honestly, we both know how I know your cup size. I apologize for my wandering eyes Miss Delgadillo." There it was. At least he apologized but still... she had a wonderful body, attractive and even in her current state, weakened state, Josef only saw the Alphess she was. "I have extra space in my dresser and hangers for the pants and shirts. Feel free to use as much space as you would like too store them."
Most men did not want a strange woman shuffling through their dressers or going into their closets. Often times they had dirty magazines or other items they did not want made public yet Josef was not most men. He had no need to look at dirty magazines or to play with sex toys. He was a decent man with moral beliefs, even if those morals failed him as he checked out Sombra. If Armageddon were to come today, Josef would have some explaining to do. The first probably being 'So you knew her bra size just by a glance huh? Why were you glancing?' Imagine answering that question to a higher power.
Yikes.
He decided to change the subject from how he knew her cup size, "I'm glad you like them. The next time I shop for you, I'll ensure to ask your permission before getting intimates again." At least he gave ground on that issues. Phew. Still, as he stared back into her eyes, he kept seeing the gloss, the brief momentary memory of her near tears and in some ways, it tore at him. Abad was not a cryer himself, he could count all the times he cried in his life on his two hands but watching other people cry caused the patriarchal side of him to want to come forth to nurture. Sombra was not one who seemed to want to be nurtured but perhaps...
Slowly he rose, walked over to Sombra who still remained sitting upon the sofa, leaned down and wrapped one arm around her. A gentle yet tight and secure hug. Pulling back after several seconds, he spoke "Dinner will be ready in an hour or so." The hug held unspoken meaning. Security. Sombra did not need to fear just being herself around Josef. With that he exited the room, passed back through the kitchen, ensuring everything was going accordingly for dinner before stepping back into the dining room and sliding open the back door. A breeze whirled through, causing the white plastic floor length blinds to smack together and filling the Alphas nostrils with the scent of oak and wild brush. His home had a large back area, though gated it allowed him to just rest out in the open as a wolf without worry of trigger happy hunted rummaging through this part of the woods. Fortunate to find a home that was nestled at the edge of the forest, it just gave Josef enough space to be... himself.
His scent was everyone and only his scent. The backyard was like a calling card, though only one wolf lived in this home, it was a home to a proud one.
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*sombra delgadillo
[b]xxlaLOBAxx [/b] ?What loneliness is more lonely than distrust??
Posts: 284
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Post by *sombra delgadillo on Nov 21, 2009 1:41:02 GMT -5
What was worse? Living forever alone or dying quickly but loved? The wolf was a firm believer in the former. And Sombra? Well, she was really too young to have decided how much more she could take. Let’s just say that she was resilient though, and headstrong as they came. Eyeing the alpha wolf before her, she nearly smirked and gave away her amusement but somehow managed to keep a straight face. He was stumbling over his words and moving to sit down. And then he apologized at which point she did look rather smug. ”You are a man, Mr. Abad, no more no less.” It was that one sentence that said he was absolved; forgiven. She eyed him when he began to mention extra closet space.
”I cannot just take over your house, Josef. I mean…I could obviously…but I won’t.” Now she did appear, quite amused but not particularly interested in battling with him on it. She would sleep on the couch or a portion of the floor so that he could have his bedroom back. ”I’d just like a couple hangers.” It was said with the calmest voice she could muster, though the wolf was snarling. It had no intention of staying another night. Not as some alpha’s charity case. She felt very much like the sort of being she would label as pathetic, and bothersome. The human was a bit worried over what the lupine would do…Then again she was resigned – the wolf took care of them, it wouldn’t just let them die.
And what is this crap about strange women? Sombra was in no way strange…just…not average. His words broke her of her semi-self pitying thoughts, and made her focus on what he was saying. ”The next time you shop for me?” She was looking at him as if he were insane. ”One would hope that at twenty some odd years old I might accomplish clothing myself without help…” Now one time buying her something, Sombra could fathom. But make it a habit and you might have a scrap on your hands...The woman had money. She’d fixed enough rich brats’ cars to have picked up cash that was still a ridiculous amount after taxes. Yeah, she paid Uncle Sam. Blinking slowly as he approached, the hair on the back of her neck to ascend – the wolf striking a defensive pose though Sombra remained somewhat frozen.
To be honest it was all she could do beyond attacking. She did not take affection well. And reassurance? She knew enough about it to ask “WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?!” As his arm wrapped around her slender shoulders, a low snarl gurgled in her throat. Reaching back, her palm encountered a pillow – the article used to smack into the side of his face in a gentle warning, the ferocity in her gaze enough to back the threat. He knew damn well he’d pulled a stunt; a swat in the head by a pillow wasn’t even worth mentioning as punishment. The fact that he left was probably a good thing, the wolf was chomping at the bit – ready to rip this brazen Alpha a new one. Shifting uncomfortably as he vanished, she simply sat there for a few minutes gathering her thoughts and recuperating. Had she ever been hugged? Amber had hugged her…and clung to her. Then again there had to be a difference between being hugged by a seven year old girl and Josef Abad.
Her heart clenched a little at the thought of her little sister. Rubbing her eyes thoughtfully, she rose as the sound of the breeze filling the house inducing the wolf’s intrigue. Gingerly she made her way down the hall in the direction she assumed he’d gone in. As she came into view of the doors open before her she couldn’t help herself. Turning abruptly into the bathroom, she stripped of the clothing he had let her borrow and neatly folded it – placing it on the countertop by the sink she left the door ajar and then morphed. The white wolf’s skull hit just below the door knob, nudging it open and exiting. Moving warily down the hall towards the outdoors, she exited the indoor facilities and tread out into the open. The wind ruffled the lupine’s immaculate pelt as she wandered past him, her lobe ticking towards Josef in a regarding manner at which point she moved on. The grass was refreshing in lieu of the pavement she had tread so much on in the past couple days. She began to wander along the side of the fence, wandering the perimeters. She was trailing the border thoughtfully; the tip of her tail flicking restlessly as she eyed the fencing much like a tiger would regard a cage. With amusement.
“'What do you fear my lady?'
'A cage. To stay behind bars until use and old age accept them and all chance of valor has gone beyond beyond recall or desire.'”
_____________________________________________Tags: Josef
Tally: 983
Comments: Now what?! |
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Post by Josef Ibn-Abad on Nov 22, 2009 11:49:06 GMT -5
She was elegant, in her wolvin form. Most other wolves were. Unlike their wild counterparts, the majority of were's were a majority of a solid color, whether it be black, grey, brown or in Sombra's white. Josef though, looked like a horrid mut, more akin to the wild wolves of Nebraska. Mixes of grey, brown, gold. He was simply... a mut of a multitude of colors. Not what people expected when they thought of a were.
If New York had snow, she would have blended in near perfectly too it. She had passed Josef, on her way out into the yard though Ibn-Abad had not been caught off guard. Even though she now managed the shift, had she mauled Josef, he would have been able to fight back. Alpha's just possessed that extra bit of strength which would have allowed him his own shift and fight back. Whether or not Sombra realized she was in no shape to fight or if she truly did not want to fight the Alpha of New York, that was unknown.
His almond eyes watched her carefully for minutes as she began a trek around the perimeter of his yards fencing. Not focusing on her form itself, his attention was on her body, more specifically her ribs. Undoubtedly it was still probably still but she was healing, and fast. A few hours, another day max would be all she needed before the Alphess was back to her old self. How long she stayed in Josefs home was still up in the air. The full moon would be arriving soon, in six days. Odds were, she would be long gone before then.
Sombra was new to the New York territories, and as such foreign to its 'were politics'. Though Josef claimed the city of New York as his territory, there were other Alpha's around, other packs that surrounded his own. The two most notable were the Packs of Buffalo, run by a Irishman and the pack of the Oneida. The Oneida were the closest in relation to Josef's and unlike tween heartthrob love story movies about Washington State Packs, which portrayed american indian wolves as helpless romantics, the Oneida were anything but. Having claimed the land within the state hundreds of years prior to Josefs arrival, there were already established rules. In fact, the morning he had found Sombra within the woods, bringing her the coffee and the Mercer's belongings, she had been dangerously close to their turf. Unlike humans, which claimed city limits by man-made landmarks or better yet, signs, Wolves marked turf by markings and scents. The Oneida were a very small yet very old pack. Yet it was what their Alphess had once told Josef, soon after his first change that stuck in his mind and dared to come forth, even now.
He had been foolish when he had first become a being of nature. Making rash decisions, going where he pleased, doing what he wanted, yet it was the Oneida and the Buffalo packs that helped in his adjustment, inadvertently teaching the then young wolf about territory and pack rules. Still, one statement was said to him by the Alphes of the Oneida and looking at Sombra, he could see in her what the Oneida saw in him.
'There are two braves fighting in the heart of every person. One is of love, the other hate. The brave of love and the brave of hate will always be but they will continue to fight, tearing at the person residing them until one proves too be stronger than the other. The determination of which brave wins is determined by which one the person feeds. Does the person feed on love or hate?'
It was the love that had allowed Josef to form his own pack. No, he did not love his packmates like a father loves a son or how a husband loves a wife. He trusted them. That was love. The hate was the overall feeling he held towards Vampires. Had that hate consumed him, the hate for almost everything else around him that could have prevented him from being an Alpha. He sensed it from Sombra. Confliction. Sooner or later something or someone would enter her life that would get her to question who she was. Only then, would she find the answers she probably sought. Whomever it would be, Josef could not tell and the only person whom would ever realize it was Sombra. Sad really, that she did not yet trust Josef. She was a vessel of few words where as Josef could talk for endless hours. He wanted nothing more than to look after Sombra, to protect her and thus far he had. Whether she wanted too accept this, whether she appreciated it was something different entirely.
His nostrils flared, pulling his attention back too the cooking lunch. Heading back inside, he pulled the wedges from the over, sprinkled cheese across them, before placing them on two separate plates and finally bringing them out to the backyard. Setting the plates on the wooden patio, he plopped down next too them and glanced out. Sombra had disappeared, though she was still close. His yard was large and one lost sight of the outer perimeter fencing the farther out it got. Even so, his thoughts lingered back to the Oneida. It was almost that one part of the year, during the winter months when the Alphas of the surrounding packs gathered on the Oneida nation to discuss issues pertaining to the wolves. It was not mandatory but it ensured that at these meetings, Josef was able to reassert his control of New York. Though one of the younger wolves when it came to time since his first shift, he was undoubtedly one of the strongest and in many cases, his will won out. One of the issues would be the rogue alpha in New York territory.
Sombra.
They probably knew by now that Josef was housing her, looking after her; though Delgadillo would probably hate acknowledging it. Stray alphas were not welcomed by the Oneida, nor Buffalo but they were by Josef. He heard her steps through the foliage as she was making the turn against the far gating. Was she sizing up his home, about to use the opportunity to make a run for it? if she bolted would he chase after her? Probably. He would not risk her getting hurt again until she was 100%. A responsible Syrian ensured his guests were able bodied before they headed back out in the world.
Still, did Josef want Sombra too leave?
When was the last time he could just... talk to another wolf without having to constantly ensure his role of Alpha was not usurped? When was the last time he had someone whom was equal to him on all counts?
Never. No, Josef did not want Sombra too leave. She was a unique vessel, much like himself. Granted, she busted him for the apparent ogling of the eyes but at least he made no insensitive jokes about it. Still, though, she was an Alphess with her own life. Conformity was not what Alphas did. The question that stood; was there a unseen middle ground the two wolves could share on some level? If so, who took the first steps toward this middle ground?
His eyes drifted too his plate where he quietly began too nibble on the toasted potatoe wedges with melted cheddar cheese coating them.
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