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Post by ANSEL DEUCALION RHINE on Jul 26, 2013 21:05:22 GMT
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 My gift is my song and this one's for you, And you can tell
everybody that this is your song TAGGED: Calan WORDS: 1024 "You're a waste of space," Mycroft snarled, fist slamming just inches away from Ansel's head. The man sneered at the teen, breath reeking of boozes and words thick and slurred. Harsh, onyx eyes bored down on the cowering shifter, a steel-toed boot colliding with the boy's stomach. Ansel choked back a sob, eyes clenching shut as he curled into a feeble ball, hands covering his head and knees clamped against his chest -- it was a position he'd perfected over the years; a position that offered the least amount of damage to be done.
A whimper escaped his lips, though he said nothing. Saying something always made things worse -- always made him more angry. Ansel, use to the abuse and torture, said nothing -- like an obedient little dog. "Get up you stupid piece of filth!" Mycroft took hold of his hair and jerked him up, shoving him down the hallway and towards the basement. Bare feet drug against the scratchy carpet, rubbing his heels red and raw. He clutched desperately at the hands entangled in his hair, tears streaming down his cheeks. His back hit the third stair before he was suddenly tumbling down them. His head hit next, the back of it slamming painfully into the corner of one of the stairs. His legs got mangled up beneath him and he was suddenly back in a ball, but this time it wasn't a protective one. Hit after hit after hit landed against him until his face suddenly connected with the cement floor at the bottom of the stairs. He heard Mycroft's even steps as the man descended, and he rushed to pull himself upright, scrambling back until his back hit something cold and hard.
"I said up!" Myrcoft snarled once more as he reached the bottom of the stairs, pulling the shifter up by the cuff of his shirt. Something squeaked and creaked, the sound of a large thing opening, and then there was darkness. Ansel was stuffed into something, face first. He jerked up, scrambling to get away from the tight space, only to be shoved back down. the gravely bottom scraped at his face, rashes rising up red and the tell-tale scent of blood infiltrating his senses until that was all he could smell. Another creak and squeak and suddenly all there was, was darkness. Ansel whimpered, trying to maneuver himself onto his back. He lifted a hand up, brushing it against the course surface above him, the chill of the object slowly beginning to seep into his bones. Another whimper passed his lips, his fists suddenly beginning to bang against the walls enclosed around him, kicking and trashing -- his efforts, however, were in vain.
He didn't know how long he'd been down there, but when he was finally let out -- it wasn't by Mycroft. Mariana stood over him with a sneer and an arched brow before she stepped aside and shoved him upstairs after he successfully clambered out. He was in his room in a flash, rushing to shower in the chilling water he was only supplied and jerking on a clean pair of clothes. His hand snaked around the handle of the onyx case always sitting by his dresser, and then he was out the window and stumbling through the forests and tripping over thin air.
Ansel didn't know where he was going or why he was going there, he just knew he had to keep going. So, he walked and he stumbled and he staggered and he tripped his way through the brush and the briers and the weeds and the sticks until he was in a field -- a meadow, more like, with rolling hills and flowers springing up from every nook and crevice of the ground. This still wasn't his destination, however. No, Ansel kept moving. He kept walking until the branches of an old willow reached out, engulfing his trembling form in a comforting embrace that only a tree could give. The branches stemmed out, carding through his hair and brushing against his clothes, pulling and tugging at him until he was firmly settled at the base of her beautiful trunk. The jet case opened and out came the acoustic Dreadnought.
The first cords were shakey and clenched together, but soon the melody overtook him and the familiar tune of 'Your Song' filled the late afternoon air. Seconds turned to minutes and his fingers continued to ghost over the familiar frets and strings, silver orbs fluttering shut as he allowed the music to overtake him. His body swayed just slightly, the lyrics coming out as a mere hum as he pushed everything back, focusing on the melody and the soothing tones. He played until his fingers were numb yet sore and his arms were beginning to tickle from holding the guitar for so long. He played until his heart no longer hammered in his chest and the tears no longer streaked down his cheeks. Ansel played until he was safe from his own thoughts, and only once he'd accomplished that did he allow the instrument to slump to the ground next to him.
His head flopped back to rest gently against the bark of the willow, orbs cast up and staring curiously at the darkening sky, peeking out above the canopy offered by the tree and her branches and leaves. His fingers rested just above his pocket, feeling slowly for his phone but froze as he realized it wasn't there and that he'd left it sitting in his room, forgotten during his rush. he took a shakey breath and clenched his eyes shut, pulling his bruised and bloodied knees, cloaked by the now stained jeans, to his chest. His face was still bloody and bruised, bruises rising up in ugly purples, greens, blues, and blacks. Every limb screamed its agony and every muscle ached from the slightest of movements. Ansel wished, then , that his friend was there. He wished Calan was there with him to help him get through it, yet he had no way to contact the Firetamer and that brought a whole new set of dread to his already churning stomach.
NOTES: bah
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Post by CALAN HUNTER ELLIS on Jul 27, 2013 14:54:51 GMT
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best of you, has someone taken your faith? It’s real, the pain you feel, your trust you must confess, has someone taken the best of you. 
“Come on you.” He murmured softly to the big black dog on the leash as he whined to get the dog to stop sniffing rocks. His mother had been calling and texting him to hurry on home. She was still so worried about him since he’d been released from the hospital and even insisted that for a few weeks he come and stay with her full time. Shay thought it was a good idea, but Calan always had something to say in protest. In reality there was no bad reason for him staying with his mother. The boy just missed his lover whenever they were apart, but he had to learn to not be so clingy. Shay was an adult and didn’t need a teenager on his coat tails all the time. Besides, they hadn’t spoken about what happened yet. That itself caused anxiety in the young firetamers chest.
Buzz stopped and began to whine softly, facing a small opening in the woods he tugged on his leash even harder. His tail was wagging like crazy, there must have been something he really wanted over there. “It’s getting late, Buzz. Time to go home.” At this rate the large black dog would pull his arm right off his body. Buzz huffed in protest and gave one final tug that broke him free from Calan’s grasp. Calan whined as he fell on his butt and looked up to watch the dog happily jump through the woods to get to the other side of the meadow. Buzz sniffed around and bolted out of the woods and into the large meadow on the other side. The big dog whined as he trotted over to the being whose scent he caught mere moments ago.
Buzz attacked Ansel’s face with kisses and barked softly, happily wagging his tail a million miles an hour. Calan soon caught up to the dog and grabbed his leash, not seeing just who the person was yet. “Fuck I’m sorry…” He said as his hazel eyes looked up to spot his friend in the grass. Ansel! What are you doing out here!” Worry took over the young firetamer as he sat down right beside the male. If he was out here alone, that meant something happened at home. That’s what it always meant. Calan bit his lower lip and eyed the boy up. He just knew. Calan couldn’t even see anything wrong right off the back but the young firetamer just knew in his heart that something was wrong and it was very possible his friend was hurt. Slowly his arms wrapped delicately around his best friend. “This might help… “ He whispered with a tiny smile as a large amount of heat radiated from his own body and moved into Ansel’s. It would relax his aching muscles and sooth the pain that he must have been feeling.
He took in a breath and gave him a very small squeeze. Making sure he didn’t hurt the male even more than he already was. “Come spend the night at my place. “ He murmured into his shoulder. It didn’t matter if the male even said no, Calan wouldn’t let him go back to his house. Not for a while. Calan would be the most stubborn human being on the planet, it would be nearly impossible to get the boy to change his mind once he had his eyes set on something. Ansel and Calan had been through a lot together. Both were the target of bullies at school and normally could laugh it off afterward, but when it came to home life they couldn’t always be there for one another. Calan bit his lower lip and sighed softly, Buzz whined a bit and licked at Ansel’s face a bit more.
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Post by ANSEL DEUCALION RHINE on Sept 24, 2013 20:29:39 GMT
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My gift is my song and this one's for you, And you can tell
everybody that this is your song TAGGED: Calan WORDS: 386
The distant braying of a dog made the young shifter curl even further in on himself. He loved dogs of course, but there were times when the bellowing barks seemed to become the bellows of rage that always left his father's permanently scowled lips. When the slobbery tongue lashed out against his bruised cheek, cleaning away the blood, Ansel let out a soft shout of panic, thrusting himself back but not managing to go any further with his back already flush against the tree's bark. The thick black mass in front of him continued to assault his face with its tongue and Ansel continued to struggle until a voice wrapped around him like a security blanket. A voice he knew well and knew by heart. With eyes unclouded, Buzz came into view and he reached out shakily, pressing the scratched up palm against the creature's muzzle.
He felt the warmth that radiated from the Fire-tamer and subconsciously moved closer. Callan's words fell on deaf ears, ringing against the roaring of the sound of his own blood. He couldn't help the flinch when Callan's arms wrapped around him, his head rolling slowly to the side to stare at his long time companion. "I can't," his voice was hoarse and cracked, merely a whisper. "Father wouldn't allow it," though, if he were being honest, he doubted his father would care much for his absence -- in fact, the man would probably be ecstatic with it. For a brief moment, Ansel had the distinct urge to recall his words and accept; then, his thoughts turned to the freezer and how his father would lock him in there for disrupting the peace of another person's home with his presence. "I... I wouldn't want to impose," he tried again, words a jumbled mess as the warmth seeped into his aching limbs and muscles, easing them and making them twice as heavy.
He couldn't keep the smile from his lips as Buzz licked his cheek again and curled his fingers lightly into the black fur. "Will you stop," he chuckled softly, pushing the dog's face away. He felt the ease slowly setting in and felt himself relaxing in the presence of the Fire-tamer and the dog, his head tilting to lean against Callan's, a grimace crossing his face as the movement jarred his muscles.
NOTES: bah
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