||STRICKEN|| [Babylonia/Diablo]

[.Rabid Lycan.]

Staring blankly out into the world with a near-sightless gaze, Diablo couldn't remember the last time he had spoken.
Not that his age helped in remembering... but the idea of communicating with other wolves no longer appealed to him.
Sure, he talked to a couple every once in a while. The passerby. Other Healers. Even a couple he had met more than once. But he remained wallowing in silent remorse... yet not allowing himself retribution.
Why try... I won't live much longer.
But I died long ago anyway... it is a curse for my wrongdoings... and I must wait until my corpse rots away before I can go to Hellfire.
His scarlet coat was now gray and sallow, skin falling from bone and sagging at his paws. His ribs showed through and the scars beneath his fur were no longer hidden... and in the face of the natural beauty around him, he was an abomination.
Yet something roused his ancient mind's attention, and he absentmindedly lifted his muzzle.
The scent was familiar, but his brain had to process the far-off odor of the approaching wolf.
...who is there...?

[Sivoncé™]

A cold fury had settled hard in thickening layers along Babylonia's internals. The trudge away from a revenge that tasted so tantilizingly sweet, wraped in scarves around her face, had thudded in her heart with a resounding ache. It wasn't fair. It wasn't right. It was scarcely sane.
All because of a freaking oak tree that didn't seem to burn in the fires of hell! And if all of those who seek shelter in its caverns, if all of those who believe in the faith and hope it represents falter and wither away, I pray that it too shall sicken and wither. In time, they shall both be diminished completely!
But now, as she wound her path through the wounded and misted trails of woodlands, other thoughts turned in her ever-churning mind.
The scent was there, the one she had been searching for. It had taken her a long time to find even a hint of it, and it was apparent the old healer moved around a lot, or at least it would seem. Must not be so happy with that little jolly family of his, hm? Maybe he misses the old one, the better one? Whatever the case, he will be feeble and aged with the time that has passed. Garunteed health care.
You think we'd be talking about American politics.
She peered through the remaining brush, eyes narrowed, searching for the wolf she was targeting....
A wide, malicious grin spread across her ironically angelic features as she stepped out to face him.
"Ahh, Diablo. It's been too long. Far, far, too long."

[.Rabid Lycan.]

(lmao-- 'american politics' XD)

A ghost's voice rattled his old bones, causing the brute to sway in a circling motion until he had turned to face Her... Babylonia. The oh-so-familiar scent of his former packmate made him feel uncomfortable... yet, somehow, at the same time, made everything feel somewhat regular. As if he had returned to the BloodMist healer's den and was waiting to assist his next patient.
He nodded politely.
"Long time, no see."
His voice was tight and hoarse from disuse, and he was unable to hold back a loud and garbled cough from deep within his chest. He shook, then steadied himself enough to face Babylonia again. Her form was blurred in his scarred and aged eyes, but he made out familiar features... and shape of wounds along her body.
"...what happened?"

[Sivoncé™]

Babylonia regarded him for a long moment, contemplating what his question meant. The old, wizened wolf was scarred and heavily battered. She saw his prominent features clearly still, but there was something else there, too. Perhaps the look in his dim-sighted eyes, or the way he moved. There was something wrong about it ; it was something no wolf should ever have on their shoulders.
But she felt no compassion. Only pity.
"The reaper seems to be reaching for you, Diablo," she murmured thoughtfully. "And what did happen to you? You used to be legendary. I guess you still are, except for the part of the story where the healer of reknowned magnificence runs off into the sunset with the little girl who thinks too much," she snorted, a sly smile on her maw.

[.Rabid Lycan.]

The corners of his jaws tugged to form a crease along his muzzle, gray-scarlet fur curling in swirls around his darkening eyes. He looked very fragile at that moment, as if the bones in his limbs were suddenly going to shatter beneath his weight and send him sprawling onto the ground in a fit of sobs. But he twitched an ear, the moment passed, and he pointedly ignored her question.
Lowering his muzzle, he repeated in a deeper voice, "What happened?"

[Sivoncé™]

"Oh, and didn't you two have two kiddies or somethin'? And then she went and died and you gave up, Diablo. That's what happened. The world walked right by you, or rather, one of your daughters did. Dunno what happened to the other one, but Liv or whatever her name was is dead and her only living kid just had kids, and basically, you're older than dirt, sweetie," She laughed coldly. "Nothing happened, Diablo. You just stayed here that whole time, looking for what? Waiting for what? Nobody's gonna run away with you this time! Nobody's going to turn you against your nature, which you've lost, or turn you back to the fake happiness. No one is coming to save you, and they're all dead or dying!

[.Rabid Lycan.]

Diablo stared at Babylonia with a halfway vacant expression, looking like a rigid old wolf... and that was it. He resembled an old man, and that was all. There were no signs of anger nor sorrow, nor regret... yet inwardly, Diablo was shedding tears that slid down to saturate his beaten, shriveled heart. But, like a dark cloud in a cold winter sky, he kept his explosive responses to himself, and instead silently turned and padded to the trees, sticking his nose in a bush and quietly de-tangling strands of cobwebs from its leaves.
"...where did you come from?"
His voice was weaker than before, but he forced his tone not to quiver with emotion. He doubted that he would hear an answer, but found that he really didn't care if he received a response or not.

[Sivoncé™]

"Tartarus," she snorted, becoming a bit irritated. "Are you still in practice, or should I fingd another healer?" She asked pointedly, not bothering to give him the details of her predicament. Why bother? The old hag would probably forget them in a less than a minute anyway. No, she would get what she wanted and leave him to die, let nature take its course. Or, if she was feeling grateful in the light of her children's regeneration, she would kill him herself.
Better to let him meet insanity head on when he comes back himself. And who knows? Maybe the freak will make peace with the big guys upstairs or something. Well, whatever. At least he'll be out of the way or in my use for the most part. Whatever happens at this point happens.

[.Rabid Lycan.]

"...I see..."
Gently pulling his bundle of cobwebs from the thicket, Diablo walked slowly over to Babylonia and dropped the bandages at his paws, leaning forward to scent the wound. Especially with his failing eyesight taken into consideration, scenting the wound was the most important step for the healer to take... that is, aside from the healing, for which Diablo had to pause to recall the needed herbs and remedies.
Finally realizing that Babylonia had asked him a question, he replied slowly with a, "Oh, yes. Healing is the only thing I am good for now. Only thing that earns me company, really. Care for rogues, packwolves... a couple visit me many times. I heal all the time."
He basically began muttering repitions of himself under his breath as he stepped back to retrieve other herbs from the woods around them. Healing is the only thing I am good for now.
True enough, he was just waiting for his day to die. He practiced healing because it was the only thing that he could do without putting much thought into it... and the only thing that he could also busy himself with at the same time.
He began to apply a poultuce to Babylonia's wounds, uttering a faint, "This will sting."

[Sivoncé™]

Babylonia didn't really pay attention to what he was muttering about, but rather realizing how hypocritical she'd been, saying those words to this healer....
She had been a little girl, little Grey Mist girl. And Ashur had made her think far too much. And she had run away. And now here they were....
But she blinked these thoughts away, not daring to delve too deep into the past, for fear she would stray too far from herself.
Who needed to reawken torn rivalries and loyalties?
It's dead and in the ground. Just like everything else about those places....those faces....
"Why are you here still, Diablo? Why aren't you with your family?"

[.Rabid Lycan.]

Stiffening, Diablo's near-sightless eyes swept over Babylonia's form and upward, searching for answers in the dark sky above.
"...they are better without me," he replied, voice extremely quiet.
And the longer I am alive, the longer I am punished by my emotions...
The frail old wolf bowed his head and began binding Babylonia's wounds, staring off into the woods somewhere. At that moment, he felt obliged to ask Babylonia to kill him there and now... but suppressed the words long enough to finish bandaging the largest gash on the she-wolf's body.

Nearby, a wolf was creeping forward, following the familiar trail of a healer's scent...

[Sivoncé™]

Babylonia's eyes narrowed to tiny slits at his words. "Mhm. But how could you know that, anyway?" She snorted uncaringly. "It's not like you would know it if one of them was sick and didn't know basic herbs, or if one of them needed someone like you. You wouldn't know because you don't care to know. You deserve to wallow here in misery if you don't respect the lives of your kin enough to do anything else," she shook her head. "Whatever. I'll probably be the last wolf you speak with, elder. But maybe you'll come back, like me. Sure as hellfire won't be going to the Twilight Realm, but I don't think you could possibly wind up in Hellfire, either. Who knows? Maybe you'll wander in the tweening worlds that no wolf has walked for so long. Doesn't it fascinate you? Death, dying? I suppose that's why it is a hobby of mine..." She blabbed on selfishly, not taking notice of the approaching pawsteps.

[.Rabid Lycan.]

Diablo was frowning deeply at this point, with his tail between his legs as he gently smoothed the bandages out. He was being practically tortured by the wolf in front of him, yet his shattered dignity refused him even the ability to offer a rebuttal to her words.
I am not wallowing… I am protecting them from me. Could a family that I virtually abandoned for blind anger honestly forgive me for what I have done? No, I think not.
He glanced up slowly at approaching pawsteps… and instantly recognized a couple familiar scents twisting together.

In one brief second, a large, brawny brute leapt from the bushes, jumping in front of Babylonia, and apparently trying to knock the she-wolf onto her side. His fur was ruffled in a mix of mottled russet, tan, and burgundy. A sinister grin painted his face, and he cooed softly, “Well, well… what have we here? Hell-o beautiful!”[/i]

“You’re a fucking screw-up, Steigen- we’ve got no time for this.”
A black wolf had slid up behind the other brute, his tone icy and furious. This other brute was the opposite of Steigen; he was a slim shadow, with fur appearing almost moist to the touch. His scarlet eyes snapped to Babylonia and back to Steigen mere seconds before he lashed out and grasped Steigen’s scruff with his large, razor-like inscizors. Pulling his brother back, he coldly snapped, “You lost your privileges after your failure with that fox-girl… or whatever her name was. If Father had seen that, he would’ve torn you apart… and if you don’t bag your fae in the next two days it’ll be both our heads.”

“Relax, Lucifer,” Steigen growled, snarling in frustration at his brother. “If you’re gonna be like that, I’m gonna pick Nero to join me next time.”

“Fine by me, you ignorant whelp,” Lucifer hissed. He looked up at Diablo, his features expressing two things: that he was mad as hell, and that he didn’t give a damn about what anyone thought of it.
“You—Diablo. Father says that you’re a Healer. Steigen here got in a scuffle—his ear is torn in half and it’s still bleeding. Fix it.”

Diablo stared at Lucifer, blinking slowly.
“…you’re the Devil’s sons. I don’t do that kind of work.”

“Come on, old man—this hurts like hell!” Steigen protested, withers rising in annoyance.

“Mephisto spawn are none of my concern,” Diablo stated firmly. “And aside from that, I have another wolf to attend to.”

“Yeah? You wanna break? I could tend to her for ya for a little while…”
Steigen quieted at Lucifer’s serious scowl of disapproval.

((why do I have the feeling that Babylonia is gonna bite Steigen? ))