Behold, Your Oblivious Savior [Illia]

[Я Є Đ WOLF]

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[bg=655064] No, he didn't really like the nasties that inhabited this place.... but they were nasty indeed. And he liked to play games a lot - so you can see where this is going. Nasty creatures trapped on an island were easier to play games with than those self-righteous "civilized" people of Aravis. It just made sense that he would mess with the easy targets, and avoid the ones that might band together and make a scene. Although.... scenes were nice every once in a while. "oops!" Coyle jumped - he was in his sleek catlike form, so jumping gave him a great deal of height - and landed nicely in a treebranch above the scything teeth of the little nasty below him. Okay so he tripped... not a proud admittance for him, but he didn't see the root and then he was going too slow so he had to get away from the thing somehow, right? So a tree it was, and soon after the teeth snapped shut on open air, there were plenty of others doing the same thing. They all gnawed and clawed at the tree, while Coyle simply sat there, flicking his ears out in front of him and staring boredly down at the snapping Ribblades. Alright.... this was getting boring. The beast slid down the trunk and straight through the ground, leaving the creatures to snap away in wonder. Today wasn't very exciting.... He'd been island hopping and it hadn't turned much up in the way of fun - just sand and scaly flesh eaters. Oh well. The beast surfaced, ghostlike from the ground, replacing the solidity to his form so he could pad along leisurely through the rest of the island. And then he saw it. A big, viney, still-as-a-picture it. ....what was it? Head tipped slightly, the oddly purple hued panther slithered up closer, tentacles flaring out in front of him. It looked.... buff, whatever it was. Maybe he should.... poke it!

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[Iƪƪia]

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[atrb=background,http://i687.photobucket.com/albums/vv235/Illia_the_Bat/Chimera%20Academy/Argusmiddle7.png] Evil. Who exactly decided what was evil? People would act as though the laws deciding what was evil, what was wrong, had always been there, ingrained in the land before anyone got here. Naturally, that theory was reason enough to avoid committing such sins. However, wasn't the concept of evil purely societal? Society determined what was good and bad, and because society was constantly changing, so too were these concepts. At one point adultery was punishable by death. At one point slavery wasn't a strictly underground business. Hell, at one point murder was looked upon as one of the greatest evils, though over time it began to be thought of as just a really bad habit. So then what if society decided to completely flip its beliefs? What if it decided to throw its full support behind "evils" such as theft and murder. That- Well, the population would dwindle, that was certain, but that would also make the people who weren't thieves and murderers the evil ones, wouldn't it? No, the word "evil" didn't mean anything at all. People just decided to attach a name to whatever was considered taboo in their society at the time. People certainly liked to name things. It never seemed like a good idea to him to name ideas and theories. When someone decided to name that collection of paper and leather a "book" he was totally fine with that. It wasn't as if the object would change that radically over time. However, a subject such as "good and evil" that was constantly changing and always meant something even slightly different to each person? How could you name that? Most creatures here seemed dependent on names and words though. It was a shame they were so limited. Amidst this talk of the ever-changing concept of good and evil, he had to wonder, where then did it leave him? Others had a purpose that was much easier to define, but for him- Damn, it was so confusing. Did he himself fully understand what was good and what was evil? No, and he didn't try to define it either. All he could do was assume that everything that his instincts were telling him to do were considered evil by the majority. However, in the grand scheme of things, if you just took a step back and looked at the big picture, you would find- Was something touching him? He inhaled a sudden, deep breath- the first movement he'd made in who knew how long. He forced himself to take several more breaths in order to simply get himself used to the act of breathing again. It wasn't that he necessarily needed to breathe, but it was a fun, little habit to have. With that task accomplished, he moved onto wondering why it was so dark out, only then realizing that his eyes were still closed. Very slowly, his eyelids slid open, as if it were meant to be a dramatic scene for him to reveal the two, glowing orbs. There was a moment of silence as he took in the scene in front of him. Then, another moment of silence as he considered said scene. In the next moment, the silence was broken as he straightened up as much as he was able to, the chains holding him down rattling against each other. When he had sized up the creature in front of him, his expression had remained deadly serious, appearing as if he were about to commend him for making it so far or berate him for waking him from his slumber. Now, however, a broad, toothy grin that seemed to say "Took you long enough to get here" broke across his face. His already bright eyes did little to mask the mischievous glint they held. "Why, hello there," The sickeningly sweet voice was little more than a murmur, though it remained powerful enough to capture anyone's attention. He glanced from one side to the other disapprovingly, "Mm, I wasn't expecting any guests... Darn it all, if I'd have known you were coming I would have picked up the place a little." Now, where did this creature come from was the question. It could be that it was just a lone traveler who happened to stumble upon these islands. However, what was even more likely was that the islands were being inhabited by creatures similar to him. How awesome would that be? Bah, if only they would actually let him know what was going on, but no... They were content to chain him to this lousy piece of land and forget about him. "So what brings you to my little slice of land? And since you're here... Wanna play a game?"

[Я Є Đ WOLF]

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[bg=655064] The creature known as Coyle was not something to be startled. Indeed, his very existence had correlated to the immense, maddening chaos that was his Home... and it had been such a lovely Home indeed. From what he knew not spawned him - and he was pretty sure there was no "spawning" where he came from - and forever and always he would be - or he had been able to "be" as long as he was Home. Home was without beginning or end - time was orderly, you see, and it really hurt him to have to conform to such a rigid concept as time. But here? Here was an odd world of... rules. And laws. And "do's" and "don't's," like a vast office building of perfectly square cubicles stretching on forever. In short, it was all too orderly and he really was bored with it all - so to say something could "startle" him was to say a fish could hop on land and sprout legs. Coyle was used to this "startled" sense - in fact he craved it. When the thingamajig he'd poked began to move and speak and retain an air of an oddly threatening nature the beast could do nothing but gawk with perfect seraphic features as if he were a child and it was Christmas morning. He loved it - whatever it was. It was... startling! But he was no fool, and as soon as the thing had awakened from its sleep the purplish cat sprang forward, straight through the thing, and began to circle excitedly around, tentacles twitching with a livid excitement. They looked like angry, snapping eels. "Game? Games are fun... I like to play games... but the only games worth playing are the ones that stir a little something up. Dust, or blood. Maybe some kind of secret? Which might be relevant, considering there wasn't any flier sent out about soundly sleeping things like yourself..." All with a great deal of energy, yet a faint, silky sound that continued to flow fast like a roaring river, yet soundly as a sighing brook, the beast spoke. The only thing breaking this lovely liquid speech, and at times causing it to dip a few purrs lower than the sweet melody, was the giddy anticipation that roiled through the creature's being. "...things that seem like something, but could be something else. So what are you then, to this game? The dust that blows away, the blood that sticks and stays, or the secret... ever elusive. Not really defined in shape or form and thus remaining so mysterious." Odd, that the beast could be so definitively random. At one moment he seemed shallow and seedy, and others he seemed weak and whiny, but there were the moments of clarity that filtered through and displayed something of the true monster underneath the simple, surface understandings. And this monster - make no mistake - was the real creature. It was just... tiring to be "monstrous" all the time. Being evil took energy... And hey, it's not like he slept or anything!

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[Iƪƪia]

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[atrb=background,http://i687.photobucket.com/albums/vv235/Illia_the_Bat/Chimera%20Academy/Argusmiddle7.png] He watched as the cat-like thing pranced around as if it had just uncovered one of the greatest treasures of the world. Not that he could blame it. He was pretty damn incredible. Of course, the cat couldn't know exactly why he was so incredible, just that he must be. Must be something about how he had been chained to some obscure island and was still alive that made a person think that this ungodly good-looking guy must be really freakin' powerful. His devilish smile broadened with every word the cat said. It had been so long, that maybe it was just because he was hearing a voice other than his own. Or maybe it was because he recognized the opportunity for what it was, and he wasn't about to let it slip away. Whatever his reasons were, he waited patiently for the cat, not saying anything until he was finished. "What am I?" His gaze turned skyward and his smile vanished, leaving behind only the most forlorn of expressions, "That's... A question I've been trying to answer for so, so long..." There was a pause as he looked back down at the ground again, heaving a great sigh. He looked so terribly hopeless and depressed. It was a look of anguish, one that said he'd give anything to know if he truly had a purpose in this terrible life he led. However, it didn't last long, as he looked toward the cat again, replacing his smile. "Nah, just kidding. I'm the one that they shudder to talk about. The one that could make every aspect of their happy, little lives vanish in the blink of an eye. I'm the creator; the destroyer. I kick up the dust, I shed the blood. I embody those secrets, yet I construct and dismantle even more. I'm the one who's responsible for causing all the chaos around here and I'm the one who gets to set the rules for this game everyone has just begun to play," Moving slightly caused the chains to clank together, to which he only shrugged, "Or at least I would be if it weren't for these things." He spoke in such a way that was so honest, so sincere, that it should have made one either wonder why he had been chained down at all or it would have made them understand completely. Or at least think they understood. After all, he had no reason to lie to this creature. The truth was much more interesting. He extended a hand toward the cat as far as he was able to. "What do you think? Would you really like to be responsible for unleashing hell onto these islands? I promise to show you a good time. So how about it, buddy?"

[Я Є Đ WOLF]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,470,true]

[bg=655064] The slinky, purplish form of the cat froze as this unexpected silence came over the creature. Odd creature. Very odd, and Coyle had not yet decided what he wanted to do with the thing yet. He was still chained, and for some reason that seemed immensely relevant - as he had not yet broken the chains, powerful though he did appear. I mean really... did you ever see a guy chained up in the middle of nowhere that was a wimp? Anyone who watched this earth television knew the man was powerful! And then there was that thing where he gets all smiley and the music swells and he tells you in the nicest, most sinister voice there is that if you let him out of those chains that apparently he can't break but you can, you'll get ot have fuuun. And you never do. But that was a silly thought. The things that happened after you released something from chains may be paired with the bad music, but they always looked exciting to him. Yes, of course it all made sense now! Even though this world had so many rules he must follow, there was a guide for all of that; and that guide was nothing less than invaluable in situations like these. He'd done the whole "knocked up" scene, and the one where he had evil plans thwarted by the good guy, so now was the one where he unleashed a hideous evil upon the world for no better purpose than it sounds cool. ...well there really was no downside to that plan, was there? And even though the beast had thought this through long before the creature had actually said anything, he still was cautions - or maybe that wasn't the right word. Waiting, maybe. He was not patient, but he had impeccable timing, and right now was not the time to do much of anything. So the cat paced, and then the cat sat, sprawled out along the gravely ground where the grass dared not grow. "...well gosh. That's a lot of responsibility." The cat curled onto its back, snakelike in the fluidity of its movements. "I mean, the title's nice and all, but you've got to have one of those things everyone else has... You know?" He did not know, and Coyle knew he did not know. He most likely did not come from a spiraling dimension of chaotic antilife, so he did not understand the value that Coyle placed in such a small thing as a name. "I'm Coyle. And you are?" It seemed a little odd, even for him, to be so calm with this unleashing of terror upon the land, but Coyle was something that never acted prematurely, and he had a feeling just this one token of interaction would have its.... future benefits, you could say. But of course he wasn't going to be cruel. He wanted the chaos to come. He just wanted to know the chaos's name first.

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[Iƪƪia]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,450,true]

[atrb=background,http://i687.photobucket.com/albums/vv235/Illia_the_Bat/Chimera%20Academy/Argusmiddle7.png] Argus wasn't the type to be the least bit slighted at the cat's apparent need to delay releasing him for as long as possible. It could take as much time as it needed, and he half expected it to. People liked that. Time. They were always asking for more of it, and despite it all they never seemed to have enough of it. Well, he was perfectly content to spend his time barely moving at all as he watched the cat as it paced about, both because it made him look cool and because he couldn't really move much anyway. In the end, it didn't matter much anyway. The waiting, that is. It wasn't as if he was going to be left alone here again. No one would release the chained god and for one simple reason: curiosity. He wouldn't have needed to persuade them that much either. People needed to know what would happen. They needed to know what was inside that box. They needed to know what was at the end of that tunnel. They needed to know what would happen if they unchained the random guy in the middle of some godforsaken island, and far be it from him to turn them away with their strange sense of curiosity. Though he heard the cat speak, he didn't respond immediately. He had since preoccupied himself with something else, namely, the shackles digging into the flesh of his wrists. They had long since stopped being fun. Where once a nice, throbbing pain had been, now there was mostly just numbness, and... They had really started to itch. The most he could do to try and get it to stop was to shake his fists really quickly, though they were fastened so tightly that it did little to alleviate his suffering. Now that was true torture. That was enough about him. He glanced up, tipping his head slightly as the cat introduced itself as 'Coyle.' From what he remembered, that would count as a "strange" name, though not nearly as strange as some of the multisyllabic names he'd heard before. Some so strange that it seemed almost as if their creator had simply picked a bunch of letters at random out of a book. Terribly unnecessary, they were. Needless to say, he didn't place much of an emphasis on learning a creature's name. For him, it was done so more as an act of courtesy than anything else. "My name? Well, those are tricky, little, things. Very limited too. 'What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet,'" He paused, and for no other reason than it sounded like the proper time to take a dramatic pause, "History has given me many names. You may call me Argus." Perhaps it was the years of solitude he spent on this rock. Perhaps it was the events that leas up to his capture. Whatever the reason, Argus couldn't help but get the least bit emotional about the current situation. It may be quite strange for a god as he smiled more warmly at the cat, but what did it really matter? "This is fun, Coyle. I feel like I've known you for years." A simple statement. Nothing more. Yet he meant every word of it. Every. Word.

[Я Є Đ WOLF]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,470,true]

[bg=655064] Years. That's what he wanted to hear - exactly. Now for those paranoid people out there, when someone tells you exactly what you want to hear, obviously there must be something wrong. Coyle had always thought this a crude and stupid idea. It contradicted itself. He wanted to hear exactly what he'd heard - and whether it was a lie or it was said true to every word, it was what he wanted and it was what curled his tail and caused his ears to flick back fondly as he smiled catlike at the chained creature. But he did mean it, didn't he? It was hard to lie to Coyle. He had eyes that didn't deceive, and he saw things for what they were. This creature was not lying, and that made it all the more pleasant to hear that he'd been properly introduced and acquainted and befriended and known. It cut out a lot of the middle work stuff, and who needed all those years of constant interaction anyways? It was easier to cut to the chase. "Well then, Argus," Coyle used the name, but it was merely a formality to him - as it nearly seemed to be for this Argus too. Names were no important. What they represented were important, and that represented thing had mad Coyle very happy. He could do nothing less than return the favor. Creeping up to the strange thing, Coyle noticed the chains for the first time - not that he hadn't seen them, but who stared at chains? Deftly, he reached a probing tentacle out to see what these chains were made of. Magic was a big part of it, but it didn't look dangerous, so Coyle used his two tentacles to pry off the chains - they bent easily as regular ones. With all of them off, the cat lithely sprang from his seat - and with that same giddiness that had first spurred him, he crept around the spot where the Argus had been released. He wasn't nervous or anything.. he just couldn't sit still! So exciting! What was going to happen next? Was the sky going to cloud over? What about the rain and lightning and thunder and evil hamster armies? That would all be nice to witness! So in his childishly daydreaming way the cat crept and crawled about, wondering exactly - and with no patience at all - the thing he'd just released would do. He even forgot to speak, he was so excited!

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[Iƪƪia]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,450,true]

[atrb=background,http://i687.photobucket.com/albums/vv235/Illia_the_Bat/Chimera%20Academy/Argusmiddle7.png] The response he gave seemed to make Coyle happy which, in turn, made Argus even happier. He enjoyed making people happy. It was just as much fun as making them angry or terrified or depressed or- Actually, any emotional response he got was fun for him. Emotions were interesting indeed. While they may be the cause of never ending torture for some, they were a source of endless entertainment for him. The cat moved closer to him and then, one by one, the chains were pried off of him. He stumbled back slightly as the last chain fell, unused to standing on his own. He quickly got the hang of it, however, and he chuckled rather ominously as he inspected his arms. The wounds were already starting to heal, but he'd deal with that later. His hands curling into fists, he flexed them out and brought them closer to his body again, still chuckling though it seemed as if he didn't realize he was still doing that. This was exciting for him as well. You don't know how much you missed normal movement of your arms until you've been without it for an extended period of time. "Finally..." He muttered in a considerably darker tone. He tipped his head back toward the sky and closed his eyes. Just how long had he been trapped in those chains? He didn't know and it didn't matter. He was free now, finally free. He could move again; had his strength again. He could feel the power coursing through his veins and it was intoxicating. Inhaling deeply, he returned his gaze to the earth, walking forward a ways and looking around at his surroundings with all the poise one would expect from a god-like entity. Now that he was finally free again, there was so much he could do. But first, for the cat... In one moment, he glanced back at it, still pacing around him, and in the next moment, he was colliding with it, wrapping his arms around it as he fell to his knees. He tightened his grip, pressing it against his chest and nuzzling the fur around its neck as he made a sort of whimpering sound. But oh, they were whimpers of pure joy. "I owe you, buddy, I freakin' owe you!" He spoke truthfully. Then, remembering the creature's name, he added: "Coyle! Seriously. You need anything and you let me know, 'kay?" Whatever it wanted, he'd be happy to oblige with. After all, it would be terribly rude to ignore the creature who rescued him. It had done a very nice thing for him, so it was only right to return the favor.

[Я Є Đ WOLF]

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[bg=655064] Coyle found, for some unknown reason, that if he were to take the form of something for too long, he would inevitably gain the qualities of that organism. He'd been a cat now for a while, so it would make sense for him to be more like a cat than anything else - it kinda imprinted on him. Which is why the first thing he did when the awfully doglike Argus tackled him was not to shift out of the tangible reality as he knew it, but unsheathe the six inch claws of all six of his limbs and dig them into the thing that was now crushing him. It took less than a second - because seconds were so terribly long - for him to realize that this wasn't some kind of evil scheme to kill the one that had freed him, but he thought it was a pretty safe bet if he just... kept the claws where they were. So a slightly squirming, snarling cat kindly did his best to smile and mumbled "Why sure... That'd be-" And then what Argus said clicked, and the pristine focus of his alien mind seemed to kick back into gear. "...wonderful. Absolutely so." The claws each relaxed from their digging into the dog's flesh, but soon continued to cling painfully to the widening marks that the long, serrated claws caused. He wouldn't say anything now. No. But it might be a good idea to see exactly what kind of horrors this guy was willing to dish out. Before, you know, cashing in on this... generous offer. Such a promise was as of gold to the beast - as he was a very fluent speaker of language, and he understood better than most the... implications of such an important thing. Words were binding, and he had just won the linguistic lottery. This was worth investing time into. So Coyle carefully evaporated from the plane, moved, and reemerged as a solid away from the clutches of the over enthused dog. "But first thing's first! You look starving, and I know somewhere you'd like to be. Or... if you have plans?" Yes, down to business... This doom and gloom wouldn't bring itself, and Coyle would get a sampler out of this guy before making his final decision. Just because your chained up doesn't mean you're good at your job. You obviously screwed up somewhere along the lines if you got imprisoned on an island...

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[Iƪƪia]

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[atrb=background,http://i687.photobucket.com/albums/vv235/Illia_the_Bat/Chimera%20Academy/Argusmiddle7.png] The irony of the situation in which he, a dog, had been rescued by a cat, hadn't escaped him. He simply hadn't thought much of it. It wasn't as if he'd ever discriminate against anyone based on the form of their bodies, or the color of their fur or something. However, it had been awhile since he'd encountered a cat, and so he had forgotten a few things about them. Like that they had claws. And that those claws could hurt you. And that if you startled them by suddenly pouncing on them, there was a good chance that you would learn just how badly those claws could hurt. Here, most people would have let the cat go. Maybe pry its claws out of your chest and then back away from it. Argus, on the other hand, took a slightly different approach. As he felt those surprisingly long claws dig into his flesh, rather then release the cat, he held onto it more tightly, shivering with pleasure. Whatever it had said while he held it in his clutches was lost on him as he focused only on the hot, searing pain spreading through his body. Would it perhaps be too forward to ask the cat if it would just drag those claws down his body a little? When it disappeared, it left him feeling a little disappointed. He looked down at the wounds it had caused, already able to feel them beginning to close. Rather than allow that to happen, he moved his hand over some of the wounds, digging his own nails into them, widening them, causing little tremors of delight to run down his body. He looked up as the cat began to speak again, jumping to his feet enthusiastically. However, as he trotted over to the cat, he was polite enough to keep his distance, despite his curiosity about what would happen if he tackled it again. "Well, I was planning on wandering around aimlessly for awhile but, oh, I'd much rather go with you." As he absently began to lick the blood off of his fingers, he could tell it did indeed want something from him, though that wasn't surprising or important. What was important was that there might be a few things that he wanted as well. Maybe they could help each other out with that.

[Я Є Đ WOLF]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,470,true]

[bg=655064] It was very odd, this situation he was in now. Of course, to understand this, you must first know a small tidbit about Coyle's overall experience with the outer world. He had been a very... "homely" child, you could say. Home was good enough for him until Crane came along and he had foolishly decided that the nice man with the solid form and the sweet smile was willing to make all his little dreams come true. And they had, but that was besides the point. In any case, once he was booted from his lovely Home he had to learn fast what all these solid things were with all their preconceived existences, and quite frankly he'd learned one thing from it all: he was either better than or lesser than something he was interacting with. Yes, quite a rudimentary way of thinking, but it had held up as law... until now. Where did he stand with such a creature as this? Obviously in sheer power he'd bee a little under the bar, but there were plenty of ways to even that out. But then he'd be even - not ahead of this thing. And he did not like being even at all. He could see what the dog was - just with a look, but it was hard to tell what of that mass of matter and energy was going to be used to pound him into the ground and what of it was just... for show, you could say. Maybe the dog was doing this little trickery of the eyes? But that couldn't be so. Coyle had perfect vision, and nothing could obscure it. So what... exactly was he in this? Where did he stand? Sure, he could use this creature, but with so sight a hold on something that is so much his equal or better? What was this...? He had thought all things here were just... blobs. But this thing was capable of terrible things, and not just the fun kind either! This was one of those rare creatures that may actually be using him, and that thought bothered him. Upon his dissociation from the big slobbering thing, he noticed, the dog - Argus - then began to... hurt himself. A little quiver of delight shot through Coyle. Ooooohh. He liked the dog. Dog was good. And this was cemented in his mind. Dog was good. Regardless of their differences, or the concerns he had, he would have a little escape plan in place and go forth with the merrymaking. Always a good option - blind ambition. "Wonderful," there was that word again. He liked that word. It described what was happening pretty well, he'd say. And with that, he understood a little something of Argus. They could be reasonable, couldn't they? Both had a mutual interest... so what's the harm in a little swap of sorts? And... as it always occurred with Coyle, he failed to see the irony in this very earthly situation - a dog and a cat getting along. This was perfectly fine, because it did seem as though he was enjoying the rest of this quite enough already. First a little innocent pit stop, he decided. Then they'd have a bit of a scandal. The evening was planned to a T, and he was sure whatever this dog's motives, he'd be pleased with the fun they'd have.

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