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Post by Christopher Saunders on Jul 5, 2010 19:24:28 GMT -8
Chris raised his eyebrows at Onock’s sudden aggression. “Damn. As the humans say, Cool it.” He raised his hands in submission, not wanting to piss him off further.
After looking over the room to assure himself that none of his possessions were to be left behind, he hauled the bag over his shoulder. Not more calling Ornock a pet. Being a pet inside his stomach, breakfast, lunch, or dinner, would not be fun. “Deal!” He called after the were as he started down the stairs.
"I still need to think of a name for you." Chris mused aloud, coming down behind him. Casting him a sidelong glance, it was clear that a question had occurred to Christopher that he wanted to ask.
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Post by Ornock Wulfierr on Jul 6, 2010 16:00:19 GMT -8
Ornock waited for Chris to get in the car and looked all around and then noticed Chris giving him a weird look. "What?"
Ornock started the car and started to drive away. He was heading for the nearest Airport and waited around.
"You did get a plane ready for us at this airport right?" Ornock focused on driving making sure that no one jumped in front of him or did anything crazy or stupid. He kept his senses on high alert just in case anyone had decided to follow them or try to take them out at an inconvenient time.
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Post by Christopher Saunders on Jul 7, 2010 11:22:24 GMT -8
“Of course. One of my Clan’s private planes is waiting for us as we speak.” He explained.
Chris hadn’t been one to miss that weariness in Ornock’s eyes, and it worried him. Truly, how old was this Were? He said he had dropped out of society, what, 50 years ago? He had been a baby then…
“You just seemed tired for a minute, and I remember earlier when you said that you’d dropped out of society fifty years ago…” He let the statement hang in the air, and he swore that the awkward silence was thick enough to slash through with claws. “I’m just a little curious. How old are you exactly if I may ask..?” He rested one hand on the armrest to support his jaw.
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Post by Ornock Wulfierr on Jul 7, 2010 12:19:45 GMT -8
Ornock seemed to blank out for a minute and his driving became almost robotic in the way that his body moved with just small jerky movements. He was most definitely lost in thought as he thought back to his child hood. He was playing by the fire holding one of the wooden objects that made soft raining noises whenever he shook it.
A flash and he was a teenager performing his first ritual as a full fledged shaman. Another flash and he was now the band's spiritual guidance. They were camped in a small area and out of no where a ferocious beast came and killed all but Ornock. His name had been different then. He couldn't quite remember his name from back then. He remembered the year though when he finally woke up.
He shook his head and looked at Chris as he finally barely managed to whisper out. "I have seen 125 changing of the seasons. Back when I was human my people were still at conflict with the Americans. Geronimo had just lost and my group was a band of renegades. A werewolf slaughtered our band and I was the only one to survive. " He sighed and refocus his attention on driving.
"I am old indeed. We are here " He stopped the car in a parking spot and started for the private plane not expecting any response nor really wanting one at the moment.
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Post by Christopher Saunders on Jul 7, 2010 12:32:55 GMT -8
Christopher silenced himself, sensing that Ornock was thinking. He had trespassed on sensitive territory, and he knew it immediately. He toyed with his thumbs, becoming anxious. What was it about Ornock that seemed so threatening when he became lost in a swath of memories?
Listening, surprised etched its way across his face. 125 changing seasons… 125 years!? Weren’t Weres supposed to be mortal; dying after the normal human life span had taken its course, withering their bodies away to nothing? “I see.” He said softly.
Upon arriving, he snatched his bag and practically bailed from the car, walking just ahead of the Were to allow him some grains of solitude and privacy in the own world that was his memories.
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Post by Ornock Wulfierr on Jul 7, 2010 17:49:33 GMT -8
Ornock allowed Chris to lead still wrapped deep into his own memories. It had been years since he had last thought of his young life. It had not been the best life he could have ever wanted. It was what had forced him to be by himself. He could not handle the guilt from what he did. In fact he still couldn't and it made him melancholy. Ornock had always heard of werewolves just dying at the end of their human age but something was keeping him alive and he couldn't quite figure it out. That made him slightly angry.
"Look Chris, I don't do well with flying so I'm going to sit on the opposite of the Aircraft. " His voice sounded a bit forced but it definitely was his normal bit of acid in it. Sure enough as he boarded the plane he went all the way to the back of the airplane and sat down and reclined his chair. He then checked all of his pockets and found a pair of sunglasses and a mp3 player. It wasn't anything fancy but it allowed him to think when around other people.
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Post by Christopher Saunders on Jul 8, 2010 17:45:48 GMT -8
Christopher remained silent, but proceeded to the front of the plane after giving him a nod, intent on watching the pilot. He’s been in business with Chris for a few years, and his Father had worked as a personal pilot for Lord Steven before them.
“Bad day?” The pilot ventured, starting the plane.
“Reasonably so.” He muttered, eyes distracted still with thoughts of Ornock’s behavior.
Over the course of the flight, he took a single bathroom break, but remained unaware of the Were’s constant location. After all, the older Were-man seemed intent with his MP3 Player in solitude.
Finally, after a several hour long flight, they landed on a private airstrip just out of London. “Ornock?” He called, hefting his bulky bag over his shoulder as his gaze swept over the length of the interior of the plane, searching for him.
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Post by Ornock Wulfierr on Jul 8, 2010 18:38:24 GMT -8
Ornock came out of the corner and followed Chris in silence merely gesturing with his head and signaling that the man should just lead on. He made sure to step off of the airplane after Chris and looked around at London. Oh how he hated London. Damned soggy old nasty smelling town.
"Let's get moving. The sooner we get to your palace the sooner we can set up a plan to take care of that assassin" He grinned at Chris making sure the boy saw it. He was back to his old werewolf self and not his slightly vulnerable Native American side.
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Post by Christopher Saunders on Jul 8, 2010 18:45:26 GMT -8
Christopher managed a smile, glad to see his friend’s mood improved. However, he didn’t miss the distinct clench of his nose. “My sense of smell is almost as good as yours, and this doesn’t bother me. Don’t worry, the flat is on the outskirts near a windy area, the scent dissipates, or you get used to it.”
After another short while, and a bit of vague discussion, the pair finally reached a large building that was actually several miles out of the city. And by no means was it a flat. Yes, he had a flat, but there was also the large, ornate building that was in fact a small castle. Several horses whinnied in what appeared to be a stable.
Christopher seemed at ease in his home, upon hearing the horses, he ‘tsk’ed. “I need to take Shea out for a ride. Poor thing.” Nearing the door, it opened to reveal a Moroi Guard.
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Post by Ornock Wulfierr on Jul 9, 2010 4:47:48 GMT -8
"This your idea of a flat?" He grinned and finally decided to just breath through his mouth so he didn't have to keep smelling the stench of London. When Ornock saw the guard he actually smirked at the way the man scrambled from somewhat relaxed to a clearly aggressive stance when he saw the werewolf. He almost laughed at the poor guard but he decided it didn't matter to him.
"Awww, look Chris. Your guard is scared for you. Oh no! It's the big, bad, wolf " He instantly was doing his best to look jokingly menacing as his nails seemed to gleam and his eyes got a hint of red in them . In all honesty he was thinking of eating the guard because he was hungry but he was also playing around seeing where Chris would try to draw the line on Ornock's fun with the local Vampires
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Post by Christopher Saunders on Jul 10, 2010 0:10:26 GMT -8
“Yes Sir.” Christ chuckled, glancing at Ornock. Indeed, a comfortable, large, and loveable building that had sentimental value was far better then the flat which he had only purchased for the purpose of easy travel. This caste was far more enjoyable, allowing him the pleasure of doing more activities he loved.
The Guard growled, and Chris frowned, speaking a few sentences in Welsh. He turned to Ornock, and the Guard slipped off. “Please do not antagonize them. I’d hate to see you be killed, or have to buy more.”
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Post by Ornock Wulfierr on Jul 10, 2010 16:37:58 GMT -8
He sniffed the air a few dozen times and then shook his head. "You don't have enough guards here to kill me. By the way, the one who walked away needs a bath. " He walked off pushing his way into the room. He kept sniffing trying to find anything that was out of the ordinary and then looked back at Chris
"I'm gonna go find a room and take a bath. Let's regroup in an hour. There we can discuss what we need to do to prevent the new assassin from killing your ugly ass " He grinned then and walked off not asking which room he could have. He went up quickly to the third floor and found a room that had a bathroom attached. It was well furnished but not obviously the master bedroom. He immediately drew himself an extremely hot bath and sank into it. Clothes and all. He had a small back pack that contained more but this would at least let him wash his clothes at the same time.
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Post by Christopher Saunders on Jul 10, 2010 20:22:07 GMT -8
Christopher snorted indignantly. “I do not think my ass is ugly, thank you very much!” He called to the Were as he walked off. The nearest person to him, which happened to be one of his dainty, curvy little Vampire secretaries, shot him a look like he’d grown a second head. She had a very dark red hair, appearing almost Irish, and a kind face.
“Are you... alright?” Amber eyes blinked at him suspiciously. She was one of the few who did not cower behind their clipboards; she was bold. Though he’d never hit a woman, with the exception of being struck first, some still behaved as though they were about to be knocked through a wall.
“Of course.” He shrugged, shooting the woman, Serena, a gentle smile before he headed up stairs.
Once Chris had packed away his clothes, he changed into a tailored white suit, with a sapphire blue tie to accompany the black, button up that he had on beneath the jacket, also taking the time to rinse out, and fix his hair.
As he settled down into the chair downstairs, he casually began to drink some red wine, savoring the popping taste on his tongue, which was spiked with blood. Serena was perched in the opposite recliner, occasionally asking a question to try to sort out some scheduling. Her hair remained pulled into a bun, similar to the other women. She appeared dignified, sitting there with her legs crossed, wearing the black business shirt and golden blouse.
“When were you planning on meeting the Gallian Prince?” She asked, scribbling down.
He ran a hand over his face, reminded of the alliance. “Soon.”
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