forum Pointy Fangs and Pointy Ears

Started September 27, 2022 by @EldritchHorror-Davadio health_and_safety emoji_events

tune

Arcturus listened, trying to understand.
"How did you betray them all?"
As best he could tell, being a good son and being a good person weren't the same for Bane, and he'd chosen to be a good person, which made him a pariah amongst his people.

Bane sighed. The meanings were jumbled in his head. He let his father’s words go to his head, and now, he couldn’t bring up a good answer. “Father said I did when I left hell for good. That’s the last I heard from him. I was trying to escape the pain. I never conformed to the standards… even by looks.” Bane looked defeated. He didn’t know what to do, nor could he go back. His face twisted into an unknown emotion.

"So… no actual betrayal, then." Arcturus said gently. "Leaving a place for your well-being isn't betraying anyone. I'll probably never convince you of that, but it's good for me to know what kind of a friend I've made. You're the type who chooses to be better. That's good!"

Bane put his head down on his knees. “I guess my well-being was in danger… but I shouldn’t have left… then I wouldn’t be hunted.” He played with his fingers and messed with his boots. “I don’t think being good could be worth this… I just didn’t want to kill innocents any more. He made me do it. I didn’t want to do it.” He got up and leaned against the wall. "I wanted to be a good person, but maybe that road is just not for me."

(Sorry friend!)

Arcturus shook his head. "What, are you going to go back and be a murderous minion for a little bit of ease? Just get rid of your conscience and never be bothered by taking innocent life again, because at least you're alright?" He quirked an eyebrow at the Hound.
"I don't really think that's an option for you. I think your conscience would always bother you, and you'd have to sear it, callous it, make it hard and unfeeling, in order to just 'go back'. And then what kind of monstrosity would you be?"
He leaned towards Bane. "No, I think the reason you haven't gone back already is not because you're afraid of what they would do to you for having left in the first place. No, I think it's because at a deep level, you'd rather be pursued but free of evil in your heart, than to be 'safe' and constantly feeling guilty, or to be so corroded by villainy that you no longer feel anything."

Bane crossed his arms, looking away from the elf. These words pained him. He didn't want to hear them, but maybe it was truly necessary for them to be uttered. "No." He muttered quietly. "I don't think I could ever remove the guilty conscience. It's part of my mind." He swallowed harshly, his throat stinging from the force. He started to cough and wrapped his arms around himself. "I don't want to be a monster. That is the opposite of my goal. I don't think I can go back…" Bane took a deep breath, turning his attention back to the elf. So far, he had seemed distant. "You're right. I will never be safe. They'll kill me, maim me, just whatever. I can't live life that! No one can!"

Arcturus nodded. "You'd never be safe there, from your own mind or from them. At least out here, you have the chance to fight back, the chance to elude and escape them, and you have the advantage of a mind unburdened by guilt."
The Elf looked him in the eyes, holding his gaze. "And any negative feelings about having left? Those are just conditioning. Old habits and thought processes. They can be cast aside and ignored, because you're not bad for running. You're not weak, you're not a loser, or a disgrace. You were strong enough to see the right path, see that it would cost you, and take it anyway, and you're strong enough now to stay on it, despite opposition."

Bane sighed, looking at the ground. He seemed to be close to tears. Low whimpers came from his throat as he realized his entire world had crumbled into ashes. The life he had known was treacherous, one of pain and forced labor. He held himself up but soon sank back onto his knees. Small tears glazed over his eyes. It would be hard to get used to a broken reality. His father forced him to be a monster. He didn't want to be a vicious monster. He wanted to be himself. "Please help me become better," Bane whispered as he tried to compose himself. "Father once said those who run away from their problems were weak. They were disgraceful. But he was my problem." He took a deep breath, slowing the warm tears. "I turned my back on the family to walk along the illuminated path. A better path for me. A path that could heal my scars."

Arcturus's first instinct was to reach out and touch Bane's shoulder, to support and strengthen him, but he knew full well his mist would hurt the Hound on contact. So he kept his hands to himself as he watched Bane grieve.
However, he kept talking, slowly, gently.
"Those who run from their problems don't all fit in one category. Some are cowards, but sometimes, discretion is the better part of valor, and knowing when to retreat is much smarter and more courageous than trying to be the biggest, baddest fighter on the field." Here, the ghostly Elf looked down at his incorporeal form. "Perhaps if I'd shown the kind of wisdom you have, I'd be healing somewhere instead of dead, but I didn't. I chose to stay and try to fight, and I wound up worse off for it." He leaned forward again. "You didn't make that mistake, Bane. You saw something insurmountable and did the smart thing: you removed yourself from the situation. Don't let the echoes of your father that live in your brain tell you you're weak for doing it." He gestured at himself.
"As for becoming a better being, a better person? You're already doing it. Helping lost souls rather than rending them and tearing them, like others of your kind seem to prefer to do. Seeking to be better is a sign of already being part of the way there. The rest is a matter of healing, which I think you know."

Bane nodded his head, wiping little tears from his eyes. The sclera of his eyes were stained red, and Bane drew in a shaky breath. He appreciated the gentle encouragement Arcturus provided, but was it enough to get him through this period? Bane needed to recognize that his previous situation was worse than perceived. "Yes… I suppose you are right. I do not fit in the cowardice category. I suppose I am smarter than I think. But, for me, I finally realized how bad abuse was and left. My dad treated me like a seven-year-old when I was 24." Bane leaned against the wall, staring at Arcturus with somber eyes. "Don't denounce yourself because you have gotten yourself in this situation. It won't do you good. Even valiant fighters screw up, but you have a tendency to provoke more than you can handle." He would reach out towards Arcturus, but didn't want to end up hurt. Bane did it anyway, placing a hand upon the elf's ghostly shoulder. That didn't hurt him. Then he held onto the elf's hand for a second, that didn't hurt him either. Bane smiled and let go. "Yes, I do know the path of healing. Thank you."

(Sorry it took me so long)

Arcturus didn't pull back from the contact, and was glad to find that Bane didn't seem hurt by the mist. That was good to know, as it would mean he could help more directly in the future.
"As long as you know your place in the world, and recognize that it's not under your father's thumb, you're alright. The rest is a matter of grieving normally. And if you know the path of healing, then you're on the right track to be a whole person."
He knew what it was to be fragmented, like Bane seemed to feel just now, but the Hound would survive, and if Arcturus could help, he would.

Bane smiled. It was a small smile of gratitude towards the elf. Words that Bane didn’t want to hear, but words he needed to hear. He looked down at his scuffed boots, the leather fading into a light gray. Specks of mud covered the toe, making the boots appear to be in worse condition than they were. “My place in the world? I’m not sure where that is. This world is vast and hard to navigate.” He rubbed the toe of his boot against the wooded floor, scuffing up the toe further. “I mean, I know he has no hold over me, and I am my own person, but am I really alright? It doesn’t seem like it.” Bane picked up his satchel and clipped it closed. He slung it over his shoulder. “I don’t think I can ever become a whole person. It’s practically impossible, but thanks for the word of advice.” The hound moved, getting his muscles into action. “I’m going for a breather.”

(The irony of an apology for a long wait, and then disappearing for months facepalm sorry about that)

Arcturus nodded slowly. He had an idea, but… he would need to know how to broach it to the Hound.
"A breather?" He assumed Bane wanted some alone time, some space, and he couldn't blame him. They'd been joined at the hip since the Hound had found him, and Arcturus could see how that would be wearing on the younger man.
The only problem was, Bane had repeatedly tld him that if the Hellhound left, Acrturus would get attacked or apparitioned away.
Soo… how does this work?

Fiddling with the disintegrating leather straps to his satchel, Bane looked up at the elf, holding his confused gaze for a minute before shrugging. “I have been broken in by a ghost. I need to clear my headspace.” The hound didn’t necessarily require alone time, but it would sure be nice. However, nice things were a privilege. When you were a Hellhound guarding a vulnerable soul, there were no nice things. Just hard, calculated battles to keep the soul safe. “I guess you can come— just stay a few inches away, alright?” He didn’t want to leave the elf defenseless— stranded alone with ghostly being fading into nothing. Arcturus had been an irritating companion, telling him how to do this, telling him that he was wrong, questioning his motives, and blatantly saying he need more training. It chipped away at his self-esteem… not that he had any in the first place. “Collect what you need and enjoy the nice stroll through the forest.”

Arcturus nodded slowly. He could tell Bane felt burdened with him, though he'd been trying to help the Hound. He had nothing to gather, so he glanced around and just shrugged, before sliding past Bane and out the door. He created some distance, and decided to do his best to stay close by, but out of Bane's sight. If he could do that, the Hound might be able to relax a bit. He clearly needed it.
The air outside was still, and quiet, and Arcturus was reminded of all the reasons his home needed defending. This. This peace. This was what he was meant to protect. It was what his family had protected since Iluvatar laid the foundations of Arda. And now…
Well. He owed Bane a lot. Though he had no way to repay that debt. Friendship had many flavors, and it seemed his flavor was sour to the Hound.
He'd need to work on that.
For now, he just worked on staying out of sight. He tested the limits of how far away he could be before he began to feel a difference in his solidity. It was a decent distance, and it did allow Bane his privacy, so that was good.

Bane watched Arcturus leave, breathing a sigh of relief. He could only do so much before he was bound to break. He could only try so hard to be heroic. He could only try so hard to make himself look brave. Shaking his head, Bane made his way out the doorway, gently closing the heavy door behind him. It clicked in place loudly, making the hound jump before he took in the fresh air. Out here, the air was cleaner than in the stuffier cabin. It was still with occasional peeps from birds calling out to their mates. This was exactly what Bane needed. Peace. A way to clear the buzz in his mind. A place without the sounds of battle. A place to not feel like he was leading a dead elf on a leash— well, he still did that, but it wasn’t apparent.

Arcturus— The hound had nothing against the elf personally, but the guy was a lot to handle. Especially when every minor discrepancy was pointed out to him and met with disappointment or a lack of comprehension. The elf and the hound didn’t really understand each other well. Not until now, at least. Bane found a cozy spot under a tree and sat under the strong plant. Little leaves fell from the thick foliage overhead, landing on his nose. He giggled and looked around, pulling at some of the flowering plants around him. Maybe this seemed like a great place to have a chat with the elf. It was quite peaceful with no sign of danger. Bane considered it before yelling out, “Arcturus!” Beckoning for the elf. It was time to get a clear sense of understanding. Or at least an uninterrupted conversation without sour thoughts or feelings.

The Elf was deep in thought about a million things, when Bane called his name. He turned quickly, locating the Hound in a small glade a little ways off. He made his way over there, wondering what he'd done now.
He stepped into the glade, keeping his distance, but the entire area was small enough for them to have a conversation without yelling or anything.
"Yes?" Arcturus kept his voice gentle. The Hound was clearly feeling the weight of a lot of things, and the Elf wasn't here to make it worse.

Bane kept his ears out for the elf, listening for rustling in the soft grass that could read as wind or the dead elf. It wasn’t too long before the swish of the long grass caught his attention. Looking over at the elf, the hound broke into a fair smile, but it ultimately seemed to be one conveying exhaustion. He beckoned for the elf to come closer and not stand so far off. It made the hound feel the elf purposefully alienated himself, wary of the hellhound's overbearing emotions. It was like much of that was true. “Isn’t this a peaceful nook of nature?” Bane tried his best to conceal his prior emotions. “I thought maybe it was a nice place to have a chat. The trees conceal us from any harsh forces of nature.” Getting to know the elf would most likely prove to be difficult. He did not seem to be of the open, friendly type. Bane had spilled the details of his previous homelife but knew nothing of the elf. “What was it like before you died? Before you met such a messy hellhound as me…”

Arcturus gave him a small smile, before walking closer. Here found a patch of soft grass and plopped down, folding his legs and sitting like he was about to meditate.
"Anything you want to know specifically, or just looking for the whole life story?"
He wasn't sure the details of his life would be of any interest to Bane. It had been a lot of warfare and long patches of isolation.

Bane kept a small distance between him and the elf, still patching together the scars created between him and the elf. He leaned his head against the tree, dark brown bark falling into the black void of fluff. Thinking about it, he didn't know what to ask, what could possible interest the hound further. "Nothing specific. You know quite a lot about me." He paused. That wasn't really a lie, but it wasn't the full truth either. "I think many of our disputes come from us not knowing each other well. We have a lack of understanding as I see it." The hound was calm. This was probably the best to time tell him anything. It would stick, and emotions wouldn't cloud his judgement. "Tell me anything that might be useful."

Arcturus looked severely confused for a moment. "Disputes?"
They'd had exactly one argument that he could remember, and it had been solved quite easily. Since then, they'd worked together just fine, as far as he could tell.
Apparently Bane didn't see it that way.
"Well…. I grew up here, in the forest. I'm roughly 300 years old, so I've been fighting orcs and spiders for… something like 200 years? We spend the first century schooling and training and such. Umm… I don't know." He now felt like he was under some kind of extreme scrutiny, like Bane expected him to lay out how to handle him, and-…
Well. He didn't know what to say.

Bane immediately felt he had made a mistake. He watched the elf shift uncomfortably as his voice trailed off. Dispute wasn't the best word, but it was the only thing he could unscramble in his mind. Thinking about what to say to the elf, he closed his eyes, his facial muscles relaxing into a look of distress. He couldn't shake the emotions that ran through his mind. No matter how hard he tried, the thoughts about his treatment toward the elf, his father, and other distinctive moments resurfaced. "Maybe dispute wasn't the best word…" The words fell out of his mouth, quite and unnerving compared to the hound's brash and chaotic nature. "Look, I feel we may have gotten off on the wrong foot, and I want to fix it. You're the only friend I have. The only friend that could possibly help me change…" Opening his eyes, he laid his gaze on Arcturus. His eyes told a story, a side many don't see of the perceived hostile hound. Melancholy. But it does seem that he shows this side to the elf more often. Bane is vulnerable around the elf. "So I thought maybe a little chat might help. I know we've been through this before, but I really don't know much about you." He sighed. "I don't like when you sometimes point out every little flaw."

But Bane soon abandoned this sorrow when Arcturus mentioned he was 300 years old. The hound went wide-eyed, his puppy like curiosity returning, filling his melancholy eyes with excitement. "300? And I thought 27 felt old! You're the only elf I have ever met, and you fascinate me by the minute." Bane sat up, sitting on his knees. There was a clear difference between the elf and the young hound. Almost like night and day. "Are there any other interesting things about elves you could tell me? I might trade you for interesting information about hellhounds, and it might just help in the quest of getting you a body again."

"Gotten off on the wrong foot?? Bane, you-…" Arcturus was mildly outraged, though not in an angry way. He listened to the Hound describe the situation going on in his head, with an odd expression on his face.
Eventually, he spoke up. "You literally have put your life on the line for me several times in the past few days. As far as all my friends and family are concerned, I'm dead. You're all I've got." The Elf was quiet, his voice soft. He hadn't realized Bane had been taking everything so personally. He hadn't been pointing out every little flaw, though he easily could have. But clearly, Bane felt attacked. And that hadn't been Arcturus's intent at all. "I've never thought of us as being wrong footed, because I appreciate what you've done for me, and am doing my best to be there for you. But. You've felt attacked, and I apologize that I caused that." He stayed in his spot, and looked the Hound in the eyes as he apologized, though he dropped his head after.

He chuckled, just a little, as Bane perked up at the 300 years comment. "Never met an Elf, huh? Well then." He held up a hand, counting off various facts on his fingers.
"My name is Arcturus Thenuviel, though… you can call me Arcus if you like." A nickname he reserved for those close to him. "I am indeed 300 years old, 301 in about a month. I'm a male Silvan Elf from Mirkwood, specifically from the territory of Eryn Lasgalen. In life, I stood 6'2" and weighed something like 40 lbs. Ummm…." he trailed off, thinking.
"My family are a clan of nobles amongst the Sindarin of Eryn Lasgalen, and have served the Woodland Kings for generations. We are monster hunters and territorial guards, and as such are trained from a young age to be soldiers. I'm not the eldest, and so I'm not in line to inherit a major title, and let me tell you, I'm glad for this, because the stuffiness of the Court frustrates me. Politics and Court drama drive me mad, and I always preferred to be in a physical fight. My brother has appointed me future Marshall, so I knew I'd be a military man forever." Arcturus was progressively getting quieter, as the weight of being dead and what he'd lost sank in. "I've… I've tasted defeat and destruction firsthand. At this point, I have nothing to prove to anyone, though… I'd like to still protect my people, if I can."

Bane shifted uncomfortably, his face growing red with embarrassment. So the elf didn’t see similarly. Bane's display of emotions seemed to surprise Arcturus. He didn’t anticipate strong feelings to radiate from the elf, especially since Arcturus seemed to hide his emotions well, unlike Bane. “So you don’t feel the same?” His voice was quiet, making it hard to hear him. He rustled the high grass with the tip of his boot, scraping the rough sole against the soft dirt. Reaching up to play with his necklace, continuously turning over the symbol of antimony, Bane turned his head away from the elf. “I-” What should he say? “I— just see things differently.” He paused. “Saw things differently.” He corrected himself. “It seemed like you didn’t know me well enough to understand why things happened, and I still feel that way. I never thought what I’ve been doing was good enough, considering that I am trained and keep screwing up. I can’t even fight my kind without being overpowered.” He giggled nervously. It was almost as if he was attempting but failing to lighten the mood. Or maybe he was nearing the point of breaking down. Since the hellhound was new to emotions, it was hard to tell.

Bane took a deep breath, calming his racing heart and turning stomach. It had been a rough day. “It’s alright. It is more me than you, but I appreciate the apology.” The hound scooted closer to the elf, wrapping an arm around his friend, seeing if that would comfort Arcturus. The mist that encased the elf’s soul did not hurt him one bit, and he was glad. Maybe it was because of their bond, or the elf’s wish not to hurt the hound. “Arcus?” Bane shook his head, stifling a laugh. “I am not too fond of the nickname. I wish to call you something else. What? We’ll find out in due time.” He leaned his head against the tree they sat under, listening to the elf talk about his home life. About himself. He figured he’d do the same. “So I am guessing a Silvan Elf dwells in the woods, and this Eryn Lasgalen is a woodland territory?” These words confused Bane. He had not heard of them before, but context clues suggested they were names for a territory within the woods and the creatures that dwelled there. He let the elf go on, closing his eyes, but didn’t hide the fact that being 40 pounds at 6’2 surprised him.

Once this hound heard the word 'nobles', he scrunched up his nose. Ew. Nobles. He had grown disdainful of nobles since he left his family. “Woodland kings?” He questioned, but quickly moved on. “Monster hunters, huh? So you hunt down monsters like me. I got you.” The hound laughed, the sound coming from deep in his chest. He hadn’t moved from his spot, his arm still wrapped around the elf. The hound glossed over much of the elf’s family garble and political talk. Bane would address it soon. “Well, Arcturus, you can’t avoid fate, but I hope I am making your fate enjoyable. I will help you protect your people. Who knows, maybe we’ll come across one of your people in the woods.”

Bane removed his arm from around the elf’s shoulders. “I think it’s my turn to ramble about my life.” The hound cracked his knuckles, stood up, and grabbed the leather-bound hilt hanging off of his belt. Shadows formed into a blade in his hand as he spun it, the shadows melding together as a solid. He stopped the hilt with the blade facing the ground and drove the umbra sword into the ground. He got onto one knee, placing a fist over his heart. “My name is Bane Malice, and I am at your service.” Bane chuckled to himself, as if he had this ridiculously cheesy introduction planned. Standing up, he pulled the blade out of the ground and sat across from Arcturus. He placed the sword in his lap. “I am 27 years old, and I'm a noble hellhound from the Atrocity Pack. I am 6’5 and like 200 and something pounds.” He waved his hand, acting as if these facts about himself were not important. “My family… well, dad is the snooty noble alpha of the pack. He’s insufferable and an awful man. I was trained harshly to be a soldier since I was— like 4— and trained to be the perfect alpha.” Bane rolled his eyes. “It didn’t work out, obviously. I didn’t want to be next in line anyway. But— I will always be a fighter.”

"I don't know what you want me to say, Bane." Arcturus sighed. The Hound clearly had been offended a lot over the last couple days, but Arcturus's apology clearly wasn't helping, though the Hound seemed pretty determined to pin his discomfort on the Elf's 'ignorance'. Arcturus listened to the explanation and nodded along, though it didn't make much sense.
What did finally make sense was Bane scooting over and putting an arm around him. The mist didn't burn the Hound, and Arcturus was glad. He leaned into the half-hug, trying to communicate that he appreciated Bane.
The laugh following a treasured nickname wasn't particularly pleasant, but. It wasn't the worst thing. He was dead after all. "Well… if not Arcus, just stick to my actual name, please." Elves were always kinda particular abut their names.
He smiled as Bane asked for clarification. "No, 'Silvan' doesn't mean they live in the woods, per se. Most of us do, but it has more to do with the particular race of Elves. There are multiple races, and Silvan is just one. As for Eryn Lasgalen, you could call it a territory, a province, something like that, yes." He had to chuckle at the look on Bane's face after a few more facts. "Yes, 6'2" and 40 pounds. We're a remarkable light people."
He noted Bane's misplaced disdain for anyone bearing the title 'noble' but didn't comment on it. Though he did explain the term Woodland Kings. "Yes, Woodland Kings. What, you didn't think the woods are just uninhabited wilds, did you? Everything is claimed, and if you've passed through unbothered, it's because you were allowed to. I'm loyal to Oropher, King of Mirkwood in Amon Lanc."
His face darkened just a bit. "No. You wouldn't qualify as a monster. You're actually relatively tame. And you're also not a creature of darkness and chaos. You have your purpose, and you'd be allowed to live. My family hunts a much more problematic set of monsters."
He did perk up again when Bane mentioned maybe meeting one of his people. "You have made my fate more enjoyable, and I'm grateful for that."

He listened as Bane described himself and his life, processing the information.
"So… you have no aspirations to take your father's place and do better?"

Bane was emotionally overwhelmed. He didn’t know what he was saying. He knew he was trying to explain to the elf that he didn’t feel pained, but he didn't know how to express it. Instead, he smiled, appreciating the communication with a small hug. “Alright, I will. It seems it may have pained you if I didn’t stick to either.” The hound joked, not understanding the elves' naming conventions. “Well, what other types of races could there be? You have what you are, but aren’t all elves nearly the same? You all look the same.” That could have been an offensive statement, but the hound didn’t know any better. He didn’t even realize elves existed until now. “I noticed that now. It’s quite the opposite with us hounds. We’re heavy as hell.” Bane looked around them at the surroundings. He noted the trees cluttered with critters, soft grass easily crushed under a heavy foot, rich soil to grow crops. “Well, yes. I assumed that they were of deliberate freedom. Somewhere a person could dwell to be relinquished. I never thought kings would rule over forest territories. And I have definitely never thought of myself as privileged to pass through territory of wild flowers.” He shifted, making himself comfortable against the tree. He had been slammed into a tree once, but he was never sure by what. Maybe it was one of these woodland creatures. “Me? Tame? That is a new word to associate with me. I never thought of myself as tame.” He giggled at the thought. “Darkness, maybe. Chaos, definitely. At least my father is. He only kills to get his way. No remorse, no sympathy. But I suppose helping souls has a purpose.”

Since the hound had done his dramatic introduction, he was now sitting across from Arcturus. He enjoyed the sight of the elf perking up. Who knows, if these woods are claimed, they might come across something that claims them. It could possibly be one of Arcturus' people. At least it would make the elf happy. ”I’m glad. I feared that I made it worse. I am not the best creature you could have met, but probably far better than some.” Bane’s face darkened at the mention of taking his father’s place. It made him sick to think about. He could not be able to do it. “No, I don’t. I cannot live up to the expectation of such an afterlife. They would kill me than except me. And I’d rather die than lead those snotty creatures.”