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Lightbringer
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Kämpe | Female | Chief Cull (Beauceron Kangal cross) | 24 | M: Hoffen, Hero, Zadolt, Kordelas I'm on my iPad at 1:00 a.m., so excuse my autocorrect and spelling errors in advance. With desperate final words, the two other Kilo dogs fled the scene. She let them retreat. It wasn't possible to chase down and effectively eliminate the two dogs while keeping the other alive and trapped. Nor did she wish to follow. She had seen where they appeared from, how they fled to tunnels. The Chief could easily use her tracking dogs to locate the underground system, and she had no doubt in her mind they posed no threat to Beta in the moment. She could wipe them out the minute her superiors gave her the order - and they hadn't, yet. She was told to wait. And so she let the dogs flee. Let them spread word of their companion's death. Let them fear. Let the suffer the pain of that sort of terrifying anticipation that Beta might be upon them at any moment. As Hero turned, Kämpe made no move. She did not worry over this rebel creature.
Again, that nod to Hoffen, that silent sort of understanding of events Kämpe had not been briefed upon. She had known Hoffen was different. But she had not expected that he might be a traitor. Hero, giving little other warning, lunged for the Chief. She had seen the attack in the stiffness of his body, the incline of his head, the defiant finality in his eyes. This dog was going to fight to the death, and his own demise would be no other fault but his own. Beta did not want her to hold back. Any wounds could be cured in the lab. And so the cull met the dog in mid air, the full brunt of her force ramming into him as his own body clashed with hers. Her jaws snapped at his shoulders, claws reaching for his chest.
She would not kill him. It was not the logical thing to do; and Kämpe told herself she knew nothing other than just that - logic. |
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Neutral
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Hero / Male / Kilo / #39 / Wolf/German Shepherd / M: Hoffen, Kämpa (Dir), Kordelas, Zadolt (Ind) Hero growled at Kämpa with anger, and was about to lunge again when something caught his attention. Hoffen. The cull had moved towards the gates, and Hero eyed him with suspicion. What was he up to? Narrowing his eyes, Hero trailed Hoffen's movements. The cull had spared Kor and Zadolt... But hadn't he killed Ty? That realization caught Hero off guard, how had he forgotten what that terrible machine had done?! He shifted, his body now facing Hoffen instead of Kämpa. He could not get away with what he had done! He still felt no emotions other than anger and acceptance. He knew he was going to die, but he was going to do his best to take Hoffen, and, if possible, Kämpa with him. Moving in one smooth motion, Hero attacked Hoffen. (Sorry! I have writers block and I'm on an IPad. Kill me :')) |
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Darkseeker
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Commander Hoffen of Foxtrot | #34 | Male | Alleged Schnauzer/Wolf cross | M: Kämpe, Hero, Zadolt, Kordelas Something in the Kilo dog's eyes unsettled Hoffen. While Hero and Zadolt held nothing but hatred for the pitiful creature he was, (and rightly so) this dog he had never met before looked at him with some sort of feeling. What exactly it was, Hoffen had no clue. But it wasn't hatred. And then he said something inaudible, but Hoffen knew exactly what it was without hearing. "My fault, not yours." Hoffen's face hardened, muzzle curling in an attempt to conceal the pain that flashed in his eyes before he succumbed to the numbness of his programming. Head throbbing, he hardly managed to choke out the words he spoke, voice monotone with suppressed feeling. "You didn't rip his throat out." As if on cue, he was slammed into by the kilo wolfblood. The nutcase. On instinct, Hoffen let out a low bark of surprise as he stumbled back, muzzle curled in a snarl. The last thing he expected was the curt nod he received. And then Kampe came. Cool blue eyes taking in the scene, she looked up at him. She knew. Hoffen was as good as dead. But maybe he could save himself. Like the coward he was, Hoffen slid out from between the two dogs without a word, and turned his gaze to the two retreating dogs. He had failed to remove them when given the command and now this was his punishment, wasn't it? Coward. His back was turned to the wolfdog, that was his first mistake. He had assumed Kampe had it under control. Hoffen had been wrong, very wrong. All the air was knocked out of his lungs as he hit the ground, hard. Fangs met his throat, and the massive dog felt them slide deeper and deeper into his neck. He was as good as dead. Well, hadn't he been anyway? Did Hoffen fear death? The answer was yes, or rather, had been yes. Life at Beta was simple: the cowards-those that lived in fear and followed orders- would live. Those that dare defy Beta and question their purpose would die, sooner or later. He was no longer the dog he had once been, with a flame of hope burning in his chest. Hell, his name meant 'to hope.' Hope of a better future, where they were free. Hope was a fickle thing, and life had a way of turning all of one's hopes and dreams upon their heads. He wouldn't live to see the rebellion, but maybe Kilo would. If only the golden dog could have been alive to watch it happen. But alas, it was not to be. It was Hoffen's fault. He deserved his fate. "Do it," the Cull sputtered out those startling words. "I don't have the courage." |
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Lightbringer
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Kämpe | Female | Chief Cull (Beauceron Kangal cross) | 24 | M: Hoffen, Hero There was a hesitance in Hero's attack. She knew this dog, a dog she had never met, hated her - or perhaps he just hated Beta; and, really, Kämpe was the orginization in its physical form, and it only made sense to assume Hero hated her, the living embodyment of his enemy. Kämpe wasn't offended. She didn't care. Hatred was a burden of emotion, a burden of full-blooded dogs, not culls. The Chief had expected him, fueled by his irrational hatred, to throw everything he had into ripping out her throat; and so this pause was unexpected. Hoffen had distracted him - and in only a moment, Hero was lunging at Commander Thirty-Four. So fickle, these dogs, her mind snarked. Only a cull could fight a cull - Hoffen could fend for himself. If he couldn't, good riddance; incompetence could not be tolerated. And yet, Kämpe saw Hero's fangs drive into Hoffen's neck, seeking his throat. She saw blood, she saw heartbeats and breaths numbered. The Commander choked out something about courage, an admission of defeat, but Kämpe could barely make out the words. Her blood was boiling with emotion. He might be a traitor. She didn't know. It didn't matter - she couldn't understand why, but Kämpe couldn't watch his murder. It wasn't like killing Axel. It wasn't like killing the ever-growing number of dogs Beta ordered her to dispose of. It wasn't like watching the golden dog die. No - she could trace the faint semblence of something that felt like fear. It was faint, vauge, but present. There was barely a second of hesiation, and with a desperation uncharateristic for the metal beast, she lunged. She was silent, cold and effective, wasting no time. He would not die - she would not let him. The cull slammed into the dog, ripping him away from Hoffen. The pair tumbled, and Kämpe's head cracked against concrete. She could almost feel the sparking wires splitting within her skull, and the sudden surge of frenzied thought as her programming was damaged. She ignored it. Her claws slashed and tore at him while her jaws clamped down onto his throat; the metallic taste of blood seeped into her maw. Her fangs remained in his neck, grip unwavering; seconds passed before she dropped the dog onto the concrete. Blood - she was swimming in it. Her heartbeat leapt to an unnaturally frantic pace. Breathing hard, Kämpe stepped back. It was different. Something was wrong. Her head throbbed, and it occured to Kämpe that wires had likely been crushed; Beta's presence was no longer constant and ever-present. Suddenly, she could feel - at least, vaugely. This felt wrong. The dog was still alive, barely. The Chief smoothed over her features, a mask of indifference. |
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Neutral
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Hero / Male / Belonging to the family of Kilo / 3.5 years of age / Labeled as number 39 / Wolf/German Shepard mix / Mentioning: The broken cull (Hoffen), A murderer (Kämpa), A lost friend (Tysta), A lost lover (Ash), My family, those who gave me a second chance I did not deserve (The whole of Kilo) (I have waited to write this for so long! It is kind of in two parts... Also, I'm on an IPad, so, sorry. ^^) Hoffen's words rang in Hero's ears. He was giving up. It was that simple. Commander Hoffen, was giving up. It was shocking to Hero, the wolf blood that had fought for so long, that someone who had gotten as far as Hoffen could simply give in. He was a cull, it shouldn't be possible for him to do that. But he had. To Hero this meant one thing. He was broken. A broken cull. Something that was so close to himself that if Hero had not been able to see the metal of the Commanders jaw he might have even believed that Hoffen was a dog. A real dog. Caught off guard, the black, brown, and tan wolf blood released the commander, amber eyes rounded with disbelief. After this it happened fast, a sensation of falling, a loud ringing, the wet, warm, sticky feeling of blood pooling down his shoulders, neck, back, and legs, the world swimming in am out of focus, and then finally the pain. It was truly agonizing. Every single piece of his body screamed, it felt as though he was being ripped from the inside out. He was dying. A simple fact. A statement that Hero had unconsciously been telling himself sense the day he lost Ash. It was odd. Odd, because he was not scared. He was not angry or even surprised. It was odd, because Hero was grateful, he was happy. He had been waiting to die for so long, if only to see Ash again. Ash. Yes, that had been the reason for the longest time, but not now. Now it was because of her and Ty, and it was because he was ready to be free, because he wanted to finally let go. Hero was beat up, his neck and shoulders were bleeding terribly, his left ear was shredded, and one of his front legs was bent at a terrible angle. Yet, in that moment, Hero did the unthinkable. He stood. Dispite his battered body his eyes were clear, focusing directly on Kämpa. He didn't growl or yelp in pain, he didn't even whine, he simply looked Kämpa right in the eyes with a strange, unidentifiable gleam in his amber eyes, and he spoke. "So you send me away then?" He asked, his voice barely above a whisper, but still strangly audible. "I am proud then, I suppose. You say only cull fight cull, but I have fought you now, and I may be the one to die but I can see in your eyes that it is me who truly won." He paused here,hacking up blood, though he somehow stayed on his paws. "You may win a battle, Kämpa, but you can not win our war. Kilo has something that no cull possesses. You mistake our strength for our weakness." He swayed, struggling, now, to stay upright. "My body will be gone in a moment, Kämpa, but you cannot kill a spirit. I will not leave Kilo until this war is fought and won." Hero grinned then, looking absolutely terrifying with blood dripping from his jaws and staining his once pearly teeth red. "Machines run out of fuel, but a soul lives on even after death." Then he collapsed. --- They say at the end, your life flashes before your eyes. So Hero guessed that his life must be Kilo, because that's what he saw. He saw Kordelas, Zadolt, and Commander Ginger speaking together in a small circle. He saw the sleeping forums of Arrow and Spring and the other dogs that he had never really known well, but loved non the less. He saw the dark tunnels that he had memorized and walked. He saw the nest he had slept in. He saw it all. Then he saw Tysta and Ash, glimmering figures in front of him, wagging their tails and howling greeting, and he saw his mother, watching him with warm Amber eyes the same shade as his own. The agony disappeared and Hero felt an overwhelming sense of peace. I'm home. He thought. Home at last, watching over Kilo and reunited with those I have lost. I am truly home. A single shuddering breath, a flash of pure light, and nothing. Hero was gone. (Done!) |
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Darkseeker
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Zadolt | Male | Australian/German Shepherd mix | Foxtrot | 28 | Mentions: Hero, Kordelas, Kampe, Hoffen He let go of Kordelas’s leg, giving him a warning glare. “Fine, but if I see you going back I will knock you unconscious and drag you back to Kilo. Hero, you'd help me with that, right?” He asked, turning around, fully expecting Hero to be behind them. When all he saw was empty air, he cursed the dog out loud. That dog was foolish, going back to try and take down a Cull. “Go back to Kilo. I’ll go get Hero and meet you there." He was already turning around, crouching low to try and be overlooked. What he saw when he returned made him freeze, everything in his body locking up at the sight in front of him. Hero had lunged at Hoffen, sinking his fangs deep into the Culls neck. Hoffen had said something, but Zadolt was near the wall, too far away to hear the Cull’s last words. Or what he thought were last words, because what Kampe did Beta would definitely restrict. It shouldn’t have been possible. She had lunged, ripping Hero off of Hoffen, and cracked her head on the concrete in the process. It didn’t stop her, as she bit down on Hero's throat, all the while tearing at him with her claws. It only lasted a few seconds, but it was enough. She dropped Hero’s head on the concrete and stepped back. It allowed Zadolt to be able to look at Hero’s injures, see how ragged his breaths were. Hero wasn’t coming back with him. And yet the dog stood. He stood, and fought Kampe with his words, not his actions. Zadolt listened to the words of this dying dog with shock. Hero was barely alive, and yet was still challenging the Cull, and for that, he earned Zadolt's respect. He spoke of how, even if he was the one destined to die, he was the true victor. He won not with the death of his opponents, but with the knowledge that he had chosen to give his life for Kilo, that in the end, he believed Beta would fall. And then he said his final words, and collapsed. After a few moments, Hero was gone. He looked over at Kampe, to see if Hero’s words had affected her at all(Possibly, in some small part of his brain, he was hoping they had). But her face was indifferent; as if she hadn’t just seen a dog die, right before her.
Because of her.
Anger had started to swell deep within him, like magma used to hide underground, waiting to erupt, when he saw the Cull biting down on Hero’s throat; it had been added to the long list of what fueled his anger. He had years of things to be angry about; how Beta had taken his sister from him, how they installed fear in every dog that was in their compound, and the thousands of unnamed dogs killed every year. His anger was a fuse, and Kampe’s face was the match. And so he lunged at Kampe’s throat with a snarl on his face, fully intended to kill her or go down trying, uncaring of his own life. She had witnessed the death of a dog who had stood, had challenged her with his words, and she had looked on with indifference. Like Hero’s words hadn’t mattered, like Hero had been just another dog, easily disposed of. He ignored Hoffen; that might have been a mistake, but he was beyond caring at this point. His mind refused any thought but that of murderous intent, and like he supposed the culls saw when their eyes changed, he saw red; dark red, the blood of Tysta and Hero and all those that Kampe had killed. |
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Darkseeker
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Kordelas (Kor) / Male / Doberman Shepherd / Kilo / I.D: 71 / M: Hero, Zadolt, Kampe, Ginger Kordelas started to nod, but then turned his head to follow Zadolt's gaze. Hero wasn't behind them. Kor sighed, ears flattening with defeat right before Zadolt pushed past him, crouching low to the ground. "Don't-" Kor's words died upon his lips as Zadolt vanished back the way they had come. His brain was torn. He couldn't let them die... the way he had let Ty die.... but he had promised.... Kordelas let out a whine. He thought for a moment longer, then made up his mind. If Zadolt and Hero died, Kordelas knew he could never forgive himself, and it would be worse than death to go on living, knowing he could have at least attempted to prevent not just one, but three deaths. And if they lived, then Zadolt could just be mad at him. His mind made up, he dropped to the ground, creeping up behind Zadolt. He was just in time to see Hero stand up, swaying. To hear his speech. To see him collapse. Suddenly, Zadolt bolted from his place in the shadows, a snarl on his face. In shock of what he had just seen, his brain was slow to process what had just happened. After a second, feeling started to break through his numbed shell. An anger. Not at Hero. But at himself. He should be the one lying in his own blood. Not Hero. Kordelas' dark eyes turned towards Zadolt, who was snapping at the Cull. And he charged after him. Without thinking, Kordelas ran around the female Cull, leaping on her back with a harsh bark. He knew that a dog couldn't fight a cull... but maybe two dogs would have a chance. Hoffen was all but forgotten as Kordelas's mind was trained on one thing and one thing only: keep Zadolt alive if that was at all possible. He cared not for his own life. I'm sorry, Tysta... I'm sorry, Hero. I should have been there. You should be alive and it's all my fault. A faint hint of a tear glimmered in the depths of Kordelas' eyes as he hung on with all he could. Please, don't let Zadolt die... Let him return to his senses and get away, please. Take me instead. Leave Zadolt alone. Please... |
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Neutral
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Spring / Female / 2 / Kilo / Chihuahua / Australian Shepherd mix / #92 / Mentions: Kilo dogs at camp (Mainly Ginger), Hero, Kordelas, Zadolt The small female awoke in the dark of the Kilo tunnels. A feeling of warning was what had awoken her. A tug in her gut that told her something was desprately wrong. Her gaze traveled. "Ginger, Arrow, Maze, Afton...." Where was Hero? Where were Kordelas and Zadolt? Slowly, Spring stood, her ears pricking forward, one up, the other down. Her soft eyes traveled the tunnel lengths. She could smell her missing pack-mates, but they had been gone long enough that it was faint, stale. Where could they be at this hour? The realization came to her. Beta. "No!" Spring raced across camp, dodging the bodies of sleeping dogs and racing immediatly to commander Ginger's side. "Commander!" She barked loudly, loud enough that she woke most of the camp. The grummbled angerly, glaring at the little dog who stood over Ginger with the fur on her back and neck raised in fear and suprise. "Hero, Kordelas, and Zadolt are gone! I have reason to believe they went to Beta!" Spring's eyes glowed with warning and immpatients. If she was right all three of them were most likely dead. (Sorry this is a little short. I figured I should probably awaken some activity back at camp. ^^) |
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Lightbringer
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Kämpe | Female | Chief Cull (Beauceron Kangal cross) | 24 | M: Hoffen, Hero, Zadolt, Kordelas He should have been dead. He should have taken his last breath. And yet the bloodied, battered corpse of a dog stood in a sea of his own blood. In the silence, his voice cut like a blade, defiant and true. He claimed victory as death descended upon him; victory as he stood bleeding and weakened. Victory as the blood he spat out choked his words. Victory. The Cheif knew that it was different this time. That her head spun and that her programming was faltering and that yes, that perhaps he had won. "You cannot kill a spirit," he said, with a grin of red-tipped teeth. A grin of fierce defiance, a scoff in the face of death. "Machines run out of fuel, but a soul lives on even after death." And that was the difference, wasn't it? Dogs were inferior to culls - weaker, slower, duller. And yet the fought, struggled, and prevailed. Again and again, they defied odds. Kämpe had wondered why Beta kept living dogs among their ranks. They ate up resources - food, water, cells and pens. Dogs were fragile and lived only about fourteen years at most - even the most minor of injuries could ruin them. And yet, despite all, the dogs were selected for most missions - and this was why. They had a heart. Culls were hardwired to work of statistics and probability when making decisions - but the living and breathing canines had a soul and gut instinct. The entire point of their existance, it seemed, was to defy statistics and prevail at the most impossible of tasks. They loved; some dogs loved their human handlers enough to do anything for them, and by the sheer force of will, they would find success. Unless recieving direct orders, culls wouldn't do anything for humans if the odds weren't in their favor. They had souls, and she did not. The cull hadn't moved since the dog fell. Mere indifference was etched on her feature, but within, her mind was spinning. Beta was arrogant enough to assume a cull wouldn't injure itself; and so the copper wires that bound Kämpe to her masters were fragile. They ran like a network of veins near the surface of her skin so that tweaking wires was not a difficult task - however, any impact could cause damage. The Chief had hit her head on the concrete, this she knew - and her programming had subsequently been damaged. Beta was still present in her mind, but not with the same calm surity as before. In flashes, her program wore off from time to time as the system aged, but nothing like this. This hurt. Hero's death seized her chest and dug claws into her heart - it was her fault. Her fault. Her fault. She saw herself, fangs marred with crimson, blood eddying about her paws, posture rigid and face taciturn. She saw a monster. A murderer. She shadows leapt - two of them. One launched himself onto her back, and the other seized her metal-clad neck. Former Twenty-Eight of Foxtrot, and the Kilo mutt, off to avenge the death of their comrade. Foolish dogs. She needed to kill one, take the other into custody - preferably the native Kilo one. Beta would want them to bleed and suffer and give up. But in this moment, the Chief was not Beta. She didn't know who she was - a righteous soldier, a monster, and mindless beast. She could not tell, and her skull throbbed trying to understand - cursed emotion - she wished for the apathy of her unharmed programming. But that was her brother, and she had killed enough today. The cull bucked and spun, jaws snapping. Her eyes flickered - ice to crimson, crimson to ice. Beta. What were Beta's orders? What would benefit them? Murderer - that's what she was. The emotion - too much, all at once, everywhere and nowhere, distant and near. Beta. Beta. Her brother. She needed salvation from this onslaught of guilt and the sudden presence of a conscience. Nothing made sense. Nothing. Apathy - she so desperately wished for it - was she a coward? Beta. Beta. The odds were in her favor. They always were. She was a monster, and metal beast. Beta. Brother. Beta. "Run." She snarled, face twisting. Her head pounded. "Run before I change my mind." Zadolt - her newfound memories of him, first from the initial lapse in her programming's consistancy, and now after her wires were damaged. A half-brother, a friend. Traitor, her internal technology system said. Brother, her heart whispered. "I don't want to kill you, brother." The words hurt to choke out - she was betraying Beta. And yet, even so, they felt right. "But I will. Run." Her voice rose into a bark. And despite herself, a growing conviction had buried itself into her heart. She wouldn't - couldn't kill him. He was her brother, and in this moment, with Beta not present in her mind, she would not be his death. |
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Darkseeker
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Zadolt | Male | Australian/German Shepherd mix | Foxtrot | 28 | Mentions: Hero, Kordelas, Kampe, Hoffen (I got permission from Boundless don’t worry) His fangs made contact with the plating surrounding her throat, and Kordelas leapt onto her back at the same time. With their combined weight, she fell, landing on her right side. He could still see the scratches from Hoffen’s malfunction in the Training room on the metal of her throat, and he idly wondered if his attack would leave more, or if his attack would finally kill her. He didn’t care. And when he heard her words, telling him to run, he didn’t react. His face stayed set in his snarl, his eyes stayed cold. Her words meant nothing to him. He had locked away any emotion other than this burning, raging desire to avenge Hero, to kill her so she couldn’t make him want to avenge someone else. He didn’t care that she was his half-sister. A small part of his brain screamed at him- This was how a Cull thought, this uncaring of words, this emotional detachment- but he paid it no heed. He was too caught up in his cold burning need to make her feel Hero’s pain to even bother glaring at her, and even as his jaws clamped down on her windpipe, his claws tore into her abdominal plating, ripping it away. It was easier for him to do so than most dogs, and his brain supplied him with the reason why after the initial moment of confusion. He’d been given a small metal piece on each of his claws when he was in Charlie, giving him a small advantage against other dogs. Huh. He’d forgotten about those, it had been so long ago. Suddenly, he felt her front paws collide with his lower jaw; it forced him to let go and he cursed his memories for making him unaware. He locked those away as well, for they would do nothing but distract him.
But while a dog would normally back away, weary of their opponent after the attack, he just went back to tearing into her plating, this time his claws aided by his teeth. He was beyond caring about being wounded; it would be nothing compared to Hero's injuries.
He ignored Kordelas the same way he ignored Hoffen, uncaring if the dog helped or not. Perhaps he wouldn't, perhaps he would. He was not Zadolt's problem. If one looked into his eyes, they would see nothing. Not anger, nor sadness or a calculating glint in his eyes. Just a blank face, devoid of emotion as he tore and bent the Chief Cull's metal, the screech of his claws against it ringing in his ears. |
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Fall 
Night Weather: 
Hurricane Moon: 
