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Ian Bohen

I do believe in killing the messenger. Know why? It sends a message.

0 · 1,392 views · located in Los Angeles

a character in “Wolves Reign”, as played by Caged Bird

Description

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โ•’โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ••

"You may write me down in history with your bitter, twisted lies; you may trod me in the very dirt but still like dust Iโ€™ll rise."

โ•˜โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•›




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      |FULL NAME|
      Ian Bohen
      Formerly Adam
      -The Original Alpha


      |SPECIES|
      Alpha Werewolf One
      and unknown Second
      Generation founding father.


      |SEXUALITY|
      Heterosexual

      |AGE|
      Claims to be 136,
      is actually 795


      |HEIGHT|
      6ft

      |WEIGHT|
      170lbs


      |PHYSICAL APPEARANCE|
      Ian has a strong jawline with hollows in his cheeks, an angular nose that grows wider at the end, and irises that are a myriad of swirling blue hues that give them the appearance of being chaotic beneath the sardonic tilt of his brow. He has crinkles around those eyes of his, fairly thin lips and a cleft in his chin decorated in some usually meticulously groomed facial hair, and hair the color of wet beach sand that when grown out, curls in all types of odd unmanageable angles. This is why he never grows it out. He has broad shoulders, a thick neck, and large hands. "All the better for strangling you with, my dear."



โ•’โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ••

"We always vilify what we don't understand. The world doesn't exist in black and white, but instead, in shades of grey."

โ•˜โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•›



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      |PERSONALITY|


      To those who know him, Ianโ€™s anything and everything. Heโ€™s a Chaotic Neutral, a psychopath, a sociopath, a tragic victim, an Evil Mastermind, an antihero, Tom Riddle Jr. 2.0. It seems like no one can decide what Ian is....and that is they way he likes it. The more you think you know about him, the less you probably actually do.

      The truth? The one lingering personality trait he always exercises is the fact that heโ€™s cerebral in a way that most other wolves reallyโ€ฆ arenโ€™t. Ian is charming and quite pleasant when he is not being a sarcastic little shit. He is the epitome of scheming, cunning, manipulative and sadistic. He will use people and brainwash people in order to get others to do what he wants. He can be genuine, and he does feel, but after growing up a slave, suffering the alienation of being the only of his species, and living as long as he has, he has giving up on emotion in favor of calculated vengeance.

|LIKES||DISLIKES|

      Despite his extremely old age, Ian is what one would call technologically-savvy, though he doesn't prefer an internet connection to an old musty book. He takes enjoyment from more expensive comfort items, superfluous things that remind him he is the most well off wolf amongst the impoverish wolves under him like dress clothes, fine china, furnishings, etc. Unfortunately, living under ground this past century has not yielded many of these things to derive pleasure from.

      He loathes hypocrisy and stupidity in others, constantly quoting Einstein in saying "Two things are infinite: the universe and human stupidity; and I'm not sure about the universe." Most of all, he hates mortal men. "Human beings are a disease, a cancer of this planet. They are a plague and Lycanthropy is the cure."



โ•’โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ••

"Man is the cruelest animal. They sit down and set their wits to work to devise ways of spoiling other creatures' lives."

โ•˜โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•›



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      |FEARS||WEAKNESSES|


      There are ideas that scare anyone: death, public speaking, failure, the loss of a loved one and there are also scary tangible things like spiders, natural disasters, bears, roller coasters โ€“ more concrete and specific stuff, none of which frighten this alpha. His fears lie solely in his objective. When the fire of vengeance burns a hole through his chest, the only fear he can possess is that the fire might be quelled one day before he has achieved his purpose. Ian fears never getting his revenge on mankind, never having the Were-race rise to their rightful place.


      |SKILLS|


      Though physically weaker than the first generation Werewolves were, Ian possesses abilities superior to any descended from himself and can transform into a human, unlike any of the first generation Werewolves. This isn't an advantage that matters today as all modern wolves can transform at will when the hit a certain age, however, Ian is not confined to transforming on full moons like the rest of the wolf race. He also has developed a resistance to silver over the centuries due to greater exposure than his compatriots, similar to how humans can develop a tolerance to arsenic over time.



โ•’โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ••

"Nothing is easier than to denounce the evildoer; nothing is more difficult than to understand him."

โ•˜โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•โ•›



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      |HISTORY|

      Prior to Ian's birth, no Werewolves as we know them today existed. Instead, a entirely different race of Werewolves ravenged the world, anthropmorphic wolf mutants that were no more human that their animal ancestor. The humans attempted to harness the power of these feral groups of Wolves with inconsistent success, they were much to rabid and wild to train or contain regularly. However, In the early 13th century, a man by the name of Fabian Novosad managed to successfully mutate the werewolf in the form of Adam. It soon became clear that this Adam posessed the ability to shift between human and Werewolf form, making him the first Werewolf of his kind, and that his bite, unlike the original werewolves, was infectious. Fabian used Ian's infectious blood to their benefit, taking advantage of the child's thirst, pitting it against him as he was forced to feed off humans: the slaves. He did this to create a new race of Immortals, Second generation Werewolves. He hoped this new breed of person could be harnessed, enslaved to guard him, protect him as he traveled to the wilds of America.

      Adam fits into neither the first nor second generation of Werewolves. But given that he is a unique specimen, he doesn't warrant his own generation because he is the only known one to have lived. It wasn't long into adolescene, after having been forced into making many second generation wolves, that he began to question his statis as man's slave. Why should he, a genetic blessing, all of the best traits of both man and werewolf, be a prisoner? Adam plotted a rebellion, setting himself first, then the other werewolf slaves free in a riot. They attacked and killed every man, woman, and child-save a missing Fabian-in the settlement and retreated to the woods.

      They then proceeded, under Adam's command, to hunt and kill every original werewolf they could find. They lost many pack members in the process and the werewolves began to question if they had exchanged their literal chains for proverbial ones. Adam seemed obsessed with destroying every possible weakness he could have, the stronger wild wolves, the men who would hunt him with silver--in fact he took to exposing himself with silver daily to decrease his sensitivity. But they didn't have to concern themselves with him for long because another threat presented itself to them in the form of an angry population of scared human beings that demanded wolf blood. The other settlements feared they'd be wiped out by the wolves next, and began preemptively targeting the second generation. This sparked a war between the races that lasted over a century. Over time, the wolves became so scattered and diluted, so close to the brink of extinction that they moved underground. The technological advances of man made it only easier for the humans to wipe out the race. The history of their kind was lost among them and Adam, now Ian, no longer wielded the power of the race like he used to. He decided to allow this to happen, thinking it better to remove the target from his back that the humans placed there by disappearing into anonymity, feeling much better off being the power behind the throne instead of on it. He is now the Alpha of sector one underground.



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Theme Song


FaceClaim || Ian Bohen

โ•šโ•

So begins...

Ian Bohen's Story

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Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ian Bohen Character Portrait: Lauren Silverstein

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After settling on the warehouse as their rendezvous point and mapping out which areas of L.A. they'd attack first, in which order, and with whom, Adam and Conrad split apart to divert attentions in case they were being tailed; the timeless pair forever cautious and for good reason. You didn't live this long by being careless.

The journey back underground was a short one, but it was painful enough that Adam hoped he wouldn't have to make one like it again. He would bring this world to it's knees beneath his slathering jaw if it took the life of every man, woman, and child in these tunnels plus a few extra. His bloody rampages were that of legend. He and his army had laid waste to entire villages. Packs of marauding werewolves ran amok through the countryside once upon a time, devouring the populace while creating even more of their own kind. He could feel it then and he could feel it now, the dawn of man was over. It was to be the age of the wolf at long last.

He slid open the door to he and Lauren's shared quarters to find her resting on the fainting couch, tending to her stitching. It appeared rather tedious work. "Hello dear..I take it everything went well from that smile on your face. Did you and Conrad settle on a location then?" She inquired hopefully with forced pleasantries. It caused him to pause and mull over his response uncharacteristically. Just of how much was she aware? What details of his plans had she overheard? He made no efforts to hide anything, but he hadn't been forthright with information either. It was certainly eye opening to just how much knowledge she had acquired as the new Alpha female.

"Everything is going according to plan. Never you fret." he stated vaguely with contented sigh before he milled around the back of the couch and pressed a cold kiss to her brow. Shirking off his jacket, he stretched out on the couch adjacent to her like a fat, contented house cat, kicking up his feet to rest them on the coffee table. He'd have new and more lavish furnishings in his above ground suite once they owned the city he imagined. All of this was rubbish to him now that he had tasted freedom...and that was when he noticed it. To anyone else it might appear that his papers were merely stacked without thought, all piled together in no particular order of rhyme or reason. However, to those who knew better, it was an organized chaos. Everything had a place and something was missing. A newspaper. It seemed harmless enough, but to Adam, nothing was without threat. "Where's-"

Suddenly a rapt sounded frantically from the other side of his door. For god's sake, could he not even decompress before someone somewhere needed something else of him? He strode over all ill concealed annoyance, flinging it open with more strength than necessary. The poor errand boy standing on the other side looked positively green. "What is it that you deem important enough to disturb me in my own quarters?" he asked with a vitriolic tone of voice suggesting his irritation. "Sir, I.." the wolf swallowed, undoubtedly praying Adam wouldn't shoot the messenger. "The Alpha of sector two escaped with the captive from the siege on the Wolfsbane Warriors fortress, he apparently took her above ground before shortly thereafter they were both captured, sir." Adam stood there for a moment, just processing. "How did they get out into the city without raising any alarms?" The miserable whelp hastened to mollify his liege. "I can have the guards of each exit brought to-" It was then that Lauren interjected, cutting the wolf off by way of explanation.

He studied her skeptically through opalescent eyes. His gaze was like a knife, the way it was pointed at her. Waiting. A true hunter, after all, was someone who could but watch and wait for it's prey until it would pull the weapon out of his hand to impale itself. Had she been sneaking around, brave enough in his absence to hatch some sort of scheme and to what end? That notion frankly beggared belief.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ian Bohen Character Portrait: Lauren Silverstein

0.00 INK

๏ผก ๏ผฃ๏ผฏ๏ผฌ๏ผฌ๏ผก๏ผข๏ผฏ๏ผฒ๏ผก๏ผด๏ผฉ๏ผถ๏ผฅ ๏ผฐ๏ผฏ๏ผณ๏ผด๏ผฉ๏ผฎ๏ผง

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๏ผก๏ผค๏ผก๏ผญ, ๏ผด๏ผจ๏ผฅ ๏ผก๏ผฌ๏ผฐ๏ผจ๏ผก
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๏ผฌ๏ผก๏ผต๏ผฒ๏ผฅ๏ผฎ ๏ผณ๏ผฉ๏ผฌ๏ผถ๏ผฅ๏ผฒ๏ผณ๏ผด๏ผฅ๏ผฉ๏ผฎ
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Lauren felt bad for the young man delivering the news who was practically falling over himself trying to please his Alpha. As Ian, Adam had had that affect too, but since coming out as the bloodthirsty warlord of old people were more afraid what not pleasing him might do. "That will be unnecessary." Lauren abruptly interjected before the young man could even finish his last sentence.

They both looked at her. The predatory gaze in Adamโ€™s eyes immobilized her with fear and for a moment she seemed to forget what she was going to say. Now she was not feeling very clever given the details she overlooked, the newspaper, the guards.. She would be unable to convince Adam of not scheming behind his back, but maybe she could convince him that her motives were more innocent than nefarious. That he didnโ€™t catch onto her bigger plan was of greatest importance.

She set aside her sewing things and stood up on weak knees, holding Adam's gaze as best she could. "..It is my own fault. I dismissed the guards so that Charlotte could be returned discreetly back to the surface. I was unaware it was Darylโ€™s plan to take her himself. Nor that it would be so dangerous.. I feel absolutely terrible for what has transpired.. And that I went behind your back my love. It was a terrible choice, but I just thought I was doing the right thing."

Adam smiled at her but it was a manic looking, terrible thing. It took every ounce of control he had in the fiber of his being to keep his eye from twitching in that moment. He didn't mind losing Charlotte, she wouldn't of been of much use the way his plans were shaking out...Leverage if things were to go south but little more. He could stand to sacrifice her just to be rid of Daryl, if he was being honest. What was even better was now Daryl was out of his way without any of the blood falling to his hands, and the wolves would be out for vengeance with a prominent and well liked leader taken or preferably murdered. However...her act of disobedience was not to be borne. And further, she had revealed her insubordination to a third party. If the Alpha's own mate couldn't be made to bend to his will, how could any of them? Where was the irrefutable, united front they were supposed to be giving? The one worth following?

"My poor, sweet, naive lover...Your heart always in the right place but never quite in line with your mind." he ground out as he shook his head weakly before looking to the wolf at the door. "Go retrieve me Bishop and Warren, tell them to assemble our strike team and join me where the sectors meet. We haven't a moment to waste." Then, just as the messenger turned to leave, Adam stopped him once more. "Oh..and Rose...bring me Rose immediately." He said ominously, tone loaded all the foreboding the wolf needed. He cast one final and fearful glance to Lauren, his obvious concern ghosting across his pallid face but he made no plea on her behalf before vanishing down the dark tunnelway, leaving her alone with the Alpha who slid the door closed with an eerie sort of lackadaisical abandon. Adam made a point not to look at her when he turned back around, but instead meandered past her towards the couch. He settled himself there once more and began rolling one of the sleeves of his aegean blue button down up past his elbow. "Pet." He growled. "Might you fetch the steel lock box from my bedside table drawer? Now." He finished pointedly, making it clear this was not a request but a demand. His smile was now replaced with a leer that marred his usually comely features, distorting his expression into a malicious one that fit the archaic monster he was said to be.

In Adam's parody of a smile Lauren could see castles burning in his eyes and the force of a barely restrained wrath behind it. She watched him curiously and with fearful stillness as he rolled up his sleeve, then when he gave his command, jumped to obey it. "Yes." she replied readily, her meek voice barely audible. She went behind the triptych and soon reappeared with the steel metal box between her hands. Uneasy and unsure, she stood in front of him and held out the box silently. His current calmness was doing nothing to make her feel better, only heighten the horror of the moment and she could see now with her arms outstretched the slight tremble in them. He didn't accept the box but rather nodded to her. "Open it." he intoned with a blossoming grin. She blinked a few times then turned the box towards herself and undid the latch in front. When she laid eyes on what was inside, four syringes filled with dusty argent liquid, each neatly lined up in grooves at the bottom, her face blanched. "Silver?" she whispered, voice high. She didn't even need to ask, she knew what it was from her instinctual adverse reaction breaking out in cold sweat and hives up her arms like an allergy. It was silver nitrate used in Wolfsbane bullets. She had seen its affects on less fortunate wolves, boiling in the blood like an explosive chemical reaction, foaming and choking at the mouth. She looked back to him, eyes wide. Was he planning to kill her with this? Had her disobedience angered him so much?

He relished in watching her breath catch in her throat. Wrapping his massive hands around her slender neck had not deterred her well enough, she had been threatened before so many times in the days before him after all, so he had to take extra measures to make it known just what he was and what that meant. He was sure, for many a time she had been half in love with easeful death, called it soft names in many a mused rhyme but her end with Adam would not be that...not a gift of escape but a pain like that which she'd never known. He needn't await her mea culpa, her culpable expression was admission enough. "Very astute Lauren, you are correct. It's silver." He finally took the weighted container from her lithe hands and set it on the table in front of them before retrieving a hypodermic from the box and awarding her with it. He watched the inner struggle take place behind her eyes; run, fight, or give in? All three had the same outcome so she acquiesced...but he would not ask her to stick herself with it. Not today. "Now, if you would be so kind, inject me." he asked unwaveringly.

An utterly lost expression wrote itself across her face. Inject.. him? Was this some test of nerve? Was this really silver at all? What game was he playing? If she went to inject him would he determine her bold enough to try to kill him and kill her instead? Or if she disobeyed him would he only become angrier? All that came to her mind as a certainty was this man, Alpha of Alphas, love of her life, father of her child, was psychotic. Finally she sat down next to him, seeming to really set her mind to the puzzle. With her other hand she reached out and took his forearm and held the needle poised just under the crook of his arm. Her eyes flicked back and forth between the blue of his vein and his eyes, trying to gauge a telling reaction but seeing none. Then just when it seemed she had made her final decision to steel herself and drive the needle in, she withdrew back,still holding his forearm and looked up at him, eyes filled with defeat. "I-I can't. I can't do this."

He snapped and roughly grabbed her by the wrist then, his grip so tight her arm shook with the pressure and was sure to bruise in the ugly shape of an unmistakable handprint. He used his leverage to drive the needle point to flesh as he forced her thumb down on the plunger with one of his long fingers. The silver fluid slithered up his arm beneath his pale skin visibly, but he didn't so much as flinch. He didn't even blink least he break eye contact with her, all the while the argent solution sizzled in his veins, scorching his blood vessels. "I took to doing this a few centuries ago, built up quite the immunity...I will not allow for any weaknesses no matter what form. Do you understand?" he asked rhetorically, gaze locked with her own in a battle of wills. "I will always remain, even if it means I'm all that remains." He had used his grasp to pull her mere inches from his face while he spoke, but released her suddenly now. Had she been unable to perform the task because she was weak or because she still held some misbegotten allegiance to him? At the moment he didn't care, his point had been well made. He watched her slump back into her seat, her bones looking like they had liquidized as he stood in time for a second knock to sound at the door. Rose.

Adam met her at the threshold and spared Lauren one final glance before he gave the command, "Stay with her and ensure she doesn't get an attack of conscience. She is not to leave this room until my return. I have a city to burn to the ground." And with that, he was gone, leaving Lauren behind with the one person in all of the sector who abhorred her more than her own son. The one who sought to take her place, who had been dethroned. An inimical simper stretched across Rose's gauche face. They were alone at last.

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Character Portrait: Ian Bohen Character Portrait: Conrad Sutherland

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Deftonesโ”€โ”€Change
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Bodies were strewn everywhere. Men, women, childrenโ€ฆtheir soma's shredded as though by a savage beast. Blood so darkly red it almost seemed black spilled from corpses that had been sliced open by powerful claws. Many of the people were still in their nightclothes, death having come for them while they slept. Their lifeless faces were frozen in expressions of utter shock and horror. Their homes bore mute witness to the grisly scene, while an eerie silence reigned over the district. There were no whimpers of pain, no desperate cries for succor. No sobbing families mourned their dead...not a living soul was to be found.

As soon as Adam's select few had joined together; Conrad, Bishop, Warren, and the chosen dozen that served under them loyally without question, they breached the surface and headed out on their operation. There was no mistaking it, not a one of them were under the illusion that this was a rescue mission to retrieve Daryl. Though it was only put into stratagem that very evening, they would attack tonight. Their long labored plans of revolution were finally coming to fruition...they could almost taste the air of the new empire Adam had offered them, and all it would cost was a little bloodshed. They were ready, ferality at a near boiling point from decades spent living peaceably like lowly rats in the sewer. They would seize their opportunity without hesitation.

The group split apart as Conrad took Warren and his team to the west side of first district they had marked for destruction, a proletarian industrial set of city blocks, which left Adam with Bishop and his team to cover the east. The needed to be stealthy and ruthless in their front, but this would come easily...It was a full moon and the men were already mid-transformation, those bitten would turn if the change didn't kill them first, and with a true alpha among them, they would follow by instinct alone.

Adam looked to Bishop as they lined up along side one of the buildings, ready to descend upon the mortals inside like the hounds of hell. "I want this quiet, and I want this quick. No one is sparred, not even the children." Bishop looked aghast for a moment but Adam silenced him with a look. "Either they become orphans or no longer share a species with their parents. This is the only alternative." In truth, Adam just needed more bodies for cannon fodder, more war dogs to throw into the fight so much so that even the young would suffice. He wasn't overtly broken up about the idea at any rate. Bishop nodded once stoically, undoubtedly torn up by the thought of his own son, but he did not allow for it to affect his effectiveness. He was unduly loyal to the cause.

The cold moonlight shone over a mauled corpse that lay sprawled upon the asphalt of the street. The body belonged to a full-grown man clad in the torn remnants of a cotton nightshirt and flannel bottoms. Exposed ribs jutted from his open chest. Gobbets of bloody meat still clung to the splintered bones, which were scored by deep claw marks. A lone animalistic figure turned back toward the corpse. It regarded the lifeless carcass boredly until a bestial sound erupted from the dead manโ€™s throat, what had begun as human scream devolving into an anguished howl. The โ€œcorpseโ€ snapped to attention then, already in the throes of a grotesque, excruciating metamorphosis. His still form had started to convulse violently. Bones cracked and twisted loudly as the murdered denizen came back to the land of the living. A tortured groan escaped the wolf's contorted jaws, but the pain-wracked utterance went unaided. Glassy mortal eyes turned into feral topaz orbs. A canine snout protrude from the scarred face, which appeared to be healing itself with preternatural speed. Jagged fangs flashed within the creatureโ€™s open maw, and a hairy hide swiftly spread over the sundered chest cavity as he doubled in size and the remnants of his clothing tore away in sheets, stripping the animal of any last vestige of civilization. The wolf now standing in his place looked absolutely maddened and lost until it fell at the warning growl of the white wolf before it...And just like that all of those bodies, the people that had to have been slain given how they were torn apart so completely, rose together like the walking dead. Those not already drug into the streets came barreling out of the apartments through walls that couldn't contain them...Coming back only to be reborn into to something new and terrible.

In the alley way, one of Bishop's wolves nosed the body of a twelve year old child with a tangle of pale blonde hair matted in blood, face devoid of color but still round with youth. Her eyes, unseeing as they were, still held their innocence. She had twitched a time or two but remained untransformed, her blood tainted after rejecting the change. It was a death less gruesome than others half her age had suffered that night; those who had bore the pain of the transformation, their tiny bodies braking in half with the sheer violence of it. The white monster nipped at the wolf's heels, urging him onward. They needn't waste time with the truly dead. Sympathies could not revive anyone.


Adam lead the howling horde across the train tracks, where they would collide with the untouched set of apartment buildings resting there. Then a handful of Bishop's men would keep them going, racing in for the slaughter, driven berserk by the moon. If the warriors caught on swiftly enough, they'd be distracted with this carnage while Adam and Bishop met up with Conrad and Warren at the warehouse to fan out in another direction. It was guerrilla warfare at it's finest combined with a little shock and awe for good measure. A perfect plan...

Adam and Bishop were the first back to the old depository, beating the other team by mere minutes, but it was enough time for Adam to slip back in his human form and let Bishop inside to wait. Steam coiled up in misty tendrils off of his exposed skin, a sign of the heat from his body's changing manifesting in the air around him. Blood and gore painted Adam's limbs and chin liberally, dripping down unto his chest in a very macabre portrait. Bishop was his mirror image, even in animal form. Blood had clotted in clumps of his dark fur and left a hellish impression. A map of the city supplied by some helpful fencer or another was laid bare on a rotting crate at the center of the open room and had marked upon it's face all of their points of aggression. Adam strolled over and glanced at it once more, the perfectionist in him still crying out for more familiarity with his surroundings in a city he had only lived beneath for the past century. That was when the scent reached Adam's senses, Bishop, who had been pacing alongside him, perking his ears and tensing. Warriors.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ian Bohen Character Portrait: Victoria Striker

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๏ผถ๏ผฉ๏ผฃ๏ผด๏ผฏ๏ผฒ๏ผฉ๏ผก ๏ผณ๏ผด๏ผฒ๏ผฉ๏ผซ๏ผฅ๏ผฒ
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Victoria took a few select Warriors with her to scan the area where the Alpha was supposed to be orchestrating his plan to take over the city. Howls echoed in the streets of the concrete jungle punctuated by sharp screams in the still night. Most of her men were redirected to fight the carnage happening on the opposite side of the district. Smart dogs. She thought of the diversion, although she wondered if she was being fooled in some other way and the Alpha wasnโ€™t here after all. There was still a seed of doubt that the female werewolf had been lying to her or at least omitting some small truth. Maybe this was just more personal than she let on but it wouldn't matter because they would both be dead in the end, the Alpha and the traitor. There may have been some sound objections to murdering the original lycanthrope, but Victoria was not keen on hearing them. Killing him would be compared to the burning of the library of Alexandria, but it would leave plenty of room for them, the victors, to rewrite history.

The vague information the female werewolf had given was all she needed, they checked a few closed factories on the East side, but it wasnโ€™t long before the werewolves had revealed themselves. Atop of one of the buildings one of her men spotted two lone werewolves entering an abandoned warehouse and radioed it in. The assassins โ€“ 5 of them total โ€“ then descended upon the warehouse. From a distance Conrad and his troop approached but Conrad halted them spotting the assassins. They could have easily taken the assassins, but opportunity had shined on Conrad to be rid of his only equal. He turned around as the rest of the werewolves caught up and took off the other way, the wild hoard instinctually following its leader.

Victoria signaled silently for two of her men to stand outside as she and the two other assassins approached the derelict brick building. They stopped momentarily outside the door listening. Not a sound. Undoubtedly they were both listening for the other. Victoria kicked in the door and they went in, guns blazed. One of the assassins sprayed some bullets as soon as he walked in, the bullets powdering the brick walls and splintering crates. Victoria layed eyes on the untransformed man and his werewolf companion in the middle... So it was true. Here he was. She had never heard of a werewolf being able to shift at will on the full moon. The man wore nothing but the blood of his victims, his eyes still aglow from his recent shift.

"You must be Adam.. What an honor." Victoria purred with a facetious smile, "I was so disappointed I did not receive an invitation to your little rendezvous. I'm Victoria, commander of the Wolfsbane Warriors. It must have just slipped your mind not to call; thankfully there's very little I don't know that goes on in this city."

The truth of the situation sat in Adamโ€™s stomach like a stone, it had all been too easy, too unchallenged. Had he thought the simplicity of his immediate mission was a karmic handout that he was owed? Perhaps, if he believed in that sort of thing. He could feel the air become enervating & harsh, smothering life & breath with their very presence here. Was nothing sacred? How had they discovered him? He had been so carefulโ€ฆThe black beast beside him raised his hackles. His only control lied with Adamโ€™s calm. The barrage of bullets against the wall had done little to keep him together, their posturing was blatant in that. How many were here truly? Had his diversion tactic succeeded in some form? He hadnโ€™t time to weigh the probability of this, measure their actions to ascertain such things. Adam really didn't like being caught off guard.

"Ah, yes well there was that whole business of my being dead. Nasty affair. Didn't want to worry you with such things seeing as you've so obviously had your hands full. I wish I could say the same, that it's an honor, but I'm afraid my definition of the word doesn't encompass..." Adam eyed them up and down with a belated sigh, gesturing flippantly at the street soldiers before him. "all of this."

He worried not that he was stark naked, he was of another era when nudity wasn't the stigmata it was today. If anything, He wore his body proudly, liberally bedecked with gore as it was. Adam tried to keep a steady carriage but his flickering eyes betrayed him. His mind raced at a million miles a minute, searching for an opportunity or weakness to take advantage of so that he might escape. He strained his hearing, waiting for the other shoe to drop and more warriors to fall upon them. He had to stall.

"I'd say it would at least be an honor to kill you, leader of the ever proud Wolfsbane Warriors but...I think we both know that would be a falsehood. Perhaps that's where your organization went wrong, placing a woman at the head of it's assassins. Tsk. No wonder your city is in shambles and blood flows freely through the streets." He forced an effervescent smile, not doubting his ability to tempt her into a monologue. "Oh well, such is life."

Victoria's amusement only seemed to grow as the Alpha tried dearly to hold onto what little bravado he had left. She let out a high, clear laugh, covering her mouth with the back of her hand mockingly.

"You're awfully brazen for someone who's quite literally exposed. Yet that's what dogs do when they're backed into a corner, they yip a lot." she bit off each word at the end with a cruel smirk, "Tell me, how does it feel to have spent the past two centuries bitterly plotting your revenge in some dark corner of the Earth only to have such carefully laid plans unravel so quickly? You must wonder how I did it, my being that of the gentler sex and all who hasn't the faintest clue how to conduct a war." She cocked her head to the side and moved a few steps closer, "I think you'll be shocked to know then that your plans weren't undone just by me, but another woman too. One of your own, in fact, some pregnant bitch you probably never paid attention to.. Lauren, I think her name is?" she tapped her pointer finger her to lip thoughtfully.

Did Victoria know what a face looked like, just before it was about to break? Adam did, he had seen it on others often enough, but never in the mirror. It was a shame that he had no reflection to stare into now for there were fracture lines all over him.

Pregnant. It simply was not possible. He was suddenly hanging on the wrong side of madness. He had lived a teeter totter lifestyle on the brink of a cliff, memorized the sensation of free falling towards a gasoline ocean while his clothes were on fire but this was another sort of fresh hell altogether. He did not conceal his shock, how could he, the weight of her reveal hitting him in the chest like a battering ram. Laurenโ€ฆHe had longed to be a king and she had made sure that when she burnt his kingdom down that he was still chained to the throne. This queen was not a pawn in his arsenal, her message screamed. What's more, her betrayal came with a child...something he believed biologically impossible. She had his offspring, his bloodline, his progeny and had managed to keep this from him. How could he have been so blind? He tried to recall how to breathe and just like that his adversary realized her mistake, her miscalculation. She hadn't known what Lauren was, his mate, and what that meant she was carrying inside of her. She had only revealed it in an effort to stand fast in her feministic pride. The horror floated silently on the air between them, neither able to lay voice to the recognition.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ian Bohen Character Portrait: Victoria Striker

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๏ผก ๏ผฃ๏ผฏ๏ผฌ๏ผฌ๏ผก๏ผข๏ผฏ๏ผฒ๏ผก๏ผด๏ผฉ๏ผถ๏ผฅ ๏ผฐ๏ผฏ๏ผณ๏ผด๏ผฉ๏ผฎ๏ผง

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๏ผถ๏ผฉ๏ผฃ๏ผด๏ผฏ๏ผฒ๏ผฉ๏ผก ๏ผณ๏ผด๏ผฒ๏ผฉ๏ผซ๏ผฅ๏ผฒ
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With Adam's sanity unhinging, Bishop began to stalk, slowly trying to circle behind the human team. The warriors with her eyed a snarling wolf warily, poised to strike at any moment, waiting for Victoria's queue. It was a trick of the mind, to associate the largest thing in the room for the most dangerous. They really ought to have known better...Just as the hulking shadow predator decided to lunge, Adam did the same, leaping into the air and shifting on a dime. It happened so quickly, there wasn't even time to register his transformation. There was a human standing before them then there was a white monster mid air, it was as simple as that.

Victoria moved several paces back as Adam landed, now phantom white beast and took a swipe at her. She again raised her gun and shot, but the beast moved with surprising agility for its size out of the way. She backed further up as she fired a few more rounds, creating as much distance as she could between her and her opponent without getting caught in the fray going on behind her. She knew that if he were to come in less than five feet of her, the match would be over -- she stood no chance to a werewolf hand to hand. Even in her younger days she had avoided close quarter combat.With determination she rapidly shot a string of bullets which trailed behind her opponent, continually missing but at the very least keeping him away. When she had unloaded one gun, without any pause, she dropped the emptied weapon and grabbed the other at her side. In the fraction of a second it took for her to reach for it though, he rushed her again. She fired at the floor mere feet from where she was, inches from the beast, scattering slivers of floorboard and silver.Then she recovered her ground one bullet at a time, stepping forward with each shot that barely missed her opponent and backed him up further towards the opposite wall.

Every time he'd pull close, she managed to keep him at bay with a steady stream of silver rounds. The silver wouldn't kill him, but it still hurt like a bitch and should be avoided at all costs. Who knew women could be this much trouble? He suddenly found himself re-evaluating his stance of the sex all together. This intricate little dance wouldn't last for long though, she'd eventually run out of clips and when she did...suddenly an argent spray hit a little too close to home and sent Adam careening into the nearest wall in a gross over compensation. His shoulder impacting with brick sent tremors up the base of the derelict building, it couldn't withstand the force and weight of the animal so down came the support beams from the ceiling with a mighty crack. Debris showered over their heads in a splintering hail as a large girder nearly landed on top of Adam.

This proved as quite the distraction for as Adam was avoiding being buried by detritus, Victoria seized her moment and let loose a last round into his back. He hit the ground with an undignified thud, the ammunition stinging and burning like brimstone straight out of the sixth circle of Dante's Inferno. He could have sworn he heard a triumphant cry in glee from her end, which only further sought to irritate him. If she thought this was over then she had another thing--wait. That was just what he needed to use to his advantage. He quickly fell out of his wolf form, shrinking back into his human visage which slumped to the ground in a fashion that would have done an opossum proud. When in doubt, play dead. He didn't keep his immunity a secret for purely selfish reasons. Sure, he could outfight the three of them, even without Bishop, but it simply wasn't his style. Trickery and deceit were always simpler and came more naturally to him.

Bishop had finally managed to rip into the last of the two warriors that had taken him on when he noticed his fallen alpha.

Enraged he charged at Victoria with feckless abandon. His eyes positively glowed with fury as he snapped his frothing jaws. Victoria turned almost a fraction too late from her triumph towards the animal coming at her -- then another gunshot cracked and reverberated off the wall. Like that, the beast fell skidding across the floor and stopping dead at her feet. She looked up to see the other two assassins that had been standing watch outside for more werewolves until they heard the commotion, now standing just inside the doorway.

Victoria tried her best to catch her breath - as much as any sick person with her condition could - and flicked some rubble off the shoulder of her trenchcoat casually. "It is about time you two decided to show up." she rasped ungratefully, and motioned towards the other two assassins lying dead on the floor. "Now, put a bullet in each of their heads, unless you'd like to kill your friends a second time." The men hesitated, but did as they were told, knowing full well that at any moment the corpses could re-animate themselves.

Where a beast lay a moment ago at her feet was now a naked man with dark oozing hole with a web of dark veins on his back. She stepped over him and walked over to the two assassins, "We are going to burn this place to the ground. No one is to know that the original werewolf was here tonight or that he ever existed, do you understand?" she asked rhetorically, her glacial blue eyes looking between them. "The story remains the same, he died 200 years ago."

The assassins nodded their consent, then each of them spread out. Apparently Victoria was not the only one on the fast track to cancer, both of the other assassins had lighters tucked away in their pockets to nurse a smoking habit too. One started by lighting a few crates in the corner, and the other dragged some splintered pieces of floorboard over near Bishop and lit those. Victoria personally walked over to where the fallen Alpha's corpse lay, studying the body for a moment contemplatively. Just like that, the Alpha of Alphas was dead and the climax of her career was over. It wasn't a bad way to go out.

She dropped the few pieces of floorboard in her hand beside the body then lit up her silver lighter before kneeling down to start the fire.

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Character Portrait: Ian Bohen

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๏ผก๏ผค๏ผก๏ผญ, ๏ผด๏ผจ๏ผฅ ๏ผก๏ผฌ๏ผฐ๏ผจ๏ผก
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C H E L S E A W O L F Eโ”€โ”€F E R A L L O V E
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Laying there, refusing to even breathe, Adam could feel the shattered shells in his back work themselves out. His body healing, pushing the foreign objects free of his skin. It was slow and it was agonizing, but before long they'd clatter to the ground and his blood could begin to filter out the poison. He had heard her approach before she ever crouched down beside him, could hear the irregular beating of her slowed heart despite the adrenaline coursing through her veins. Her short, sporadic breaths that panted in time with her steps.

The flick of the metal lighter in concomitance with an arms load of wood dropping to the ground...

Just as she stooped down he sprang off the ground forthwith, like a spring loaded trap, pulling her forward and off balance. She dropped her lighter and clutched onto his wrists in shock as he took in fistfuls of her lapel, his claws sinking into her skin as they sharpened. His cold murderous gaze was locked with her own for a fraction of a second. Nothing about him appeared human despite not being in his wolf's form; it is as if the fur he usually wore had melted into his skin and become part of it. He growled and it was a terrible thing, an aria of fear made audible before he took those unsheathed daggers in his maw and tore at her throat. There was so much blood, it just poured out of his full mouth like a fountain. Victoria could not even gurgle or sputter in response as there was not enough of her windpipe left to even choke with. He had very nearly decapitated her, the vertebrae in her neck just out of his teeth's reach.

Adam allowed her crumple to the floor gracelessly as he turned to the two remaining soldiers looking on in absolute horror. He appeared every bit the thing of nightmares, bathed completely in red with blackened veins snaking out over his skin and splintering off into lightning like shoots. His eyes burned with unholy rage, returned from the dead to wreak his vengeance, bullets finally coming free of their fleshy prison to volley on Victoria's already cooling corpse. Their indomitable leader was dead and everything they thought they knew about the monster they hunted proved wrong. They backed away fearfully as Adam advanced toward them, quick to move around the fast burning flames that had begun to lick up the walls that they had only just started. The pair made it to the threshold just before Adam could catch them and slammed the steel door closed, this action followed by the sound of something metal sliding in between the handle and frame like a piece rebar perhaps. He howled in fury, he had chosen this place not only for it's anonymity and placement, but also for its fortified entrance so that they could keep the enemy out if things turned to war. It had never occurred to him that that door would equally keep him in. He smashed a heavy fist against the tempered metal, evoking cries of fear from the other side in tandem with an onslaught of bullets that rattled the door. Cowards the lot of them, fine representatives of their race. He could force it open but this would only end with him being gunned down. He may have immunity but there was even still only so much he could withstand and he was still hurting.

He whirled around frantically, the ever growing fire gleaming in his panic stricken eyes. He held no remorse for his fallen comrade, but in watching his body being consumed by the flame he was forced to face his own mortality. He could not end this way, ignominiously and outwitted. Betrayed. He was practically immortal God dammit. How had it come to this? A carefully cultivated persona, always a shadow to hide in or someone else to blame, meticulous planning and then replanning...Lauren. It had all gone to shit with her; he had mistaken her as someone of malleable character to be easily tempered and manipulated for his means but she had proved to be secretly fortified. He was the one who had ensnared her; thought nothing of letting her in close; now she was the one who had tricked him and escaped with his child. HIS legacy. He could not allow for it. If the stakes were not high enough with his life on the line, that was reason enough to claw his way out of this building if he had to do so brick by brick. Not that he wasn't prepared to do that anyway, his perseverance was admirable. He would escape this place just to claim what was his.

His face turned upwards in a stroke of genius as he quickly clambered up some smoldering debris that had miraculously not yet caught full on fire. He leapt from there to a rafter that was still largely in tact. The gaping hole in the roof from the fallen support beams sucked most of the smoke out of the building that masked the stars from view in a hazy fog. No human could manage this feat but he was no mere human. He need only reach the gable--that was when the rafter crumbled. The heat had warped it until it no longer fit in it's place, it's only option to come sliding down in pieces to feed the hungry flames. Adam's claws dug into the brick edging as he dangled there having only jumped at the last second, his feet scraping the side to gain some type of purchase. Bloody Hell. He glanced down at the girder he had only just been standing on now burnt up to cinders. He felt helpless, too much like he had all those nights as Fabian's plaything eons ago, like he wasn't in control of his of own fate anymore...or of anything really. He gritted his teeth and pulled his body up in an impressive curl just as the building gave it's last shuddering sigh and collapsed in on itself, finally dying after all this time.

You couldn't say it hadn't given one impressive last stand...

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๏ผก๏ผค๏ผก๏ผญ, ๏ผด๏ผจ๏ผฅ ๏ผก๏ผฌ๏ผฐ๏ผจ๏ผก
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On the city's fringe, an anonymous building burned to the ground unceremoniously. For a pit that had laid claim to the lives of two great leaders, the venerable mold was dissolved in a perfunctory silence. No one was left to bare witness to the end of an era, the two remaining warriors having abandoned it soon thereafter to report the travesty, or rather victory, depending on how one examined the event. This was probably for the best for had they stayed, they'd of been subjected to the most demoniacal of all shocks, that of the abysmally unexpected and grotesquely unbelievable. Confronted with an ashen eidolon of unwholesome revelation, they'd of been driven to hysteria for there in the nighted quiet a smile split the dark, arching upwards as the pair of orbs above it gleamed like chips of flint. One of two leaders was not quite so deceased after all...The prodigious alpha rose from the silhouette of a neighboring edifice donned in only a coat of ash and grime like some sort of dark phoenix reborn.

He admired his charred tomb with a sense of biting satisfaction, his escape having been a breath away from demise. If anything had come from this failed venture, it was only that Victoria's bones now lied in a mountain of brick and embers, freeing the warrior snake of it's loathsome head. That, and his newfound understanding of his lover turned adversary. It would seem even the formidable alpha was fallible, but he would not make that same mistake twice. If he burnt, Lauren Sliverstein would burn alongside him. His maniacal grin grew further as a slow unfurling of lips and teeth, shark eyes black in the flickering light reflecting the fire that may not have eaten his flesh, but had certainly consumed what was left of his soul.

The alpha lived to scheme another day, and this time with the freedom of assumed anonymity. This was a balm as well as a source of bitterness. But could he just create an ounce of nepenthe from the chaos of echoing images left to him...he could dispel this acridity and move forward and conquer. In madness he sank away from the adjacent building's rooftop and down into the accursed pile of mortar to sift swiftly and silently where he had last laid eyes on Victoria. There his stained hands unearthed a mass of scorched flesh and bone, many a piece crushed in separation.

The human body had thirty three vertebrae divided into five regions, but Adam only sought out one. He took the surviving sacrum, from the Latin os sacrum meaning holy or sacred bone, as a trophy, a spoil of war or king's guerdon, as it were. In ages long since past, the sacrum was the part of an animal offered in sacrifice. The Greekโ€™s had believed the bone was indestructible. It was thought to be the seat of the human soul. Did Adam mean to possess her soul?...it was curious, but no. There was only one soul which he required possession of, and it had stolen away in the night with his child. The wind rattled the building's desiccated frame as it crumbled with a heaving sough, dousing the dying flames in ash. A single triumphant howl broke off into the starless Stygian sky to join in the chorus of mournful cry's heard round the cityscape. Long live the king.

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