Fire & Fury (OPEN!)

[Sivoncé™]

Speak of the devil, and she shall appear.
There was no flash of light or quake in the earth when Assyria reincarnated. Rather, one instant she was in nonexistence, and the next she was there as if she'd always been and always ought to be. She appeared in mint condition, pelt glossier than it had been in her past lifetime and clean of blood, ash, or wounds from the battle that killed her. It happened as if she was sleeping. Now, she blinked open her eyes and returned to her place in this realm-- the place of a fearsome Blood Mist ruler, for that is what she had become.
[I/] Where am I? [/i]
A few seconds later, she realized she was back at camp, nestled in a musty corner of the deserted Blood Mist nursery. Her eyes narrowed to slits. Why did it smell as if no one had slept here for at least a moon? How long had she been in the afterlife? Had her pack already forgotten her? Was some imbecile trying to take her place?
And where in Hell's name were her brothers and sisters?
Assyria stood abruptly and leaped from the thicket, energy flowing through her rejuvenated body. She peered around the camp, eyes flickering about for a familiar face. Slowly, she padded to the alpha den.
What she saw sent her reeling backwards in rage and furious betrayal.
Babylonia was gone. Her mother had left her.
She sent out a screeching howl for her brethren to gather. She needed her allies near her, or she would succumb to the isolation gnawing at her insides. She needed Blood Mist. She needed Hades.
Babylonia would die with the rest of her wretched family.

[H.ell . Fi.re.|†A.lba]

A blood curling howl slithered into the brutes ear canals. His mouth nearly dropped agape, and for a moment those pearly ivories were in full view for any who cared to stay long enough to see them. Whoever that was, had a death wish, might I add. Hellfire turned quickly, and bounded over a small hedge, and splashed through the shallow brook. His ebony coat now shone brightly, while his gold optics shone with amazement, and maybe even triumph. He had never dreamed of turning his back on his pack mates, though it was true that he had not seen very many other Blood mist in the area.

He bunched his titanium like muscles up, and bounded over the slight incline of land that would lead him to Assyria's call. He stumbled only slightly as he landed, but quickly corrected himself. He stood back, not daring to approach her unless she called on him. Although he was a fearless warrior, he knew when to push his luck, and when to not.
This was not the time.

[Sivoncé™]

The answer was, slow, hesitant, but soon enough, Blood Mists filtered towards the heart of their camp. Among them were Arachna, Roman, and the young healer neophyte Cora. Most of them held the same stance as Hellfire -- carefully collected, making sure not to let any sort of emotion spill over. Arachna, however, licked her chops hungrily as she gazed back at Assyria. She thristed for revenge. Assyria held the dark warrior's eyes for a moment, as if daring her to take back her claims to such hungers. A small smirk appeared on her maw when the warrior did not, but bowed her head in submission.
This is more like it.
"Babylonia has run away," she spoke in soft, quiet tones. Her manner of speech was calm -- too calm. "Like a pouting pup who can't get her way, she has run away in an attempt to punish us with the acsence of her presence." She began to pace methodically around the circle of wolves. "But, little did she know, she has blessed us with the freedom to truly embrace our own path, to take a hold of our own destiny! No longer are we tied down to past ways and past traditions -- the future is here, and now we are free and able to embrace it! Blood Mist is the most powerful of packs that ever existed, and now we are all the more powerful because our weakest link has finally gone!" she paused, waiting for the reaction.

[.Rabid Lycan.]

War. The taste, the glorious chorus of screams, the energy—it had returned when all hope had seemed lost. It was a sudden jolt of electricity through their veins, the hell-scarred ranks all too starved of flesh. It was the first raw sensation most of them had felt since the hungering embers had numbed their pads to reality.
Most of them, anyhow. What was it, really—the younglings mostly came for sport, or power, or prestige. Plenty of the crew were legitimately psychopathic and wanted nothing more than to see the world burn at their paws, but that couldn’t be all of them. No, Blood Mist was more than just a net for catching the undesirable warmongers… it had to be.
Or else, what the hell else are we fighting for, if not preservation? For our culture, for our right to live alongside those trespassing dogs in the packlands. Beyond lust for carnage, what were the fibers stringing us together in so magnificent a tapestry?
Assyria’s cries. Of course.
Vendetta.
Somewhere in the bowels of Hell, Shiver mused over the predicament of her birth pack, whilst upward the bloodied army gathered after the festivities of the nights before. Some of them old, but most of them new—new and indifferent to the blessings of tradition. It was the dawn of a new era, and the age began with a single line.
“Babylonia has run away.”
Mixed emotions surged. Oso, Mange, and Lobo cried out in shock, while Kill looked on in a wave of confusion and anger. It was more than tradition; it was loyalty. Babylonia was the leader, hand-picked by Verlust herself. Who were they to dispute? How could Babylonia have truly left the pack? Kill, though usually vocal, remained silent and glanced about at her comrades.
Meanwhile, amongst the fresher breed of members, and uproar of delight stirred the ranks. “New blood!” “We’re dining on pack meat tonight!” “Freedom forever!” At least, that was the general consensus—Krueger glanced about blankly, unable to decipher what was happening, let alone what side to take. Nevertheless, a revolution was under way.

[Sivoncé™]

A cold smirk curved on Assyria's maw. The reception was flawless, amongst the old as well as the new. Of course, the elder members of Blood Mist would be far more hurt but such an occurrance, but the new members would rejoice -- that was to be expected. But even in their hurt and confusion, Assyria saw opportunity to draw them to her cause. Babylonia was Verlust's beta, true, but Babylonia was gone. Assyria was her daughter, the one child of the many that had stayed true to the Blood Mist cause. Was she not the next best thing to the so-called queen herself?
"For a moment, as a daughter, I wondered how it could be," she spoke in a slightly softened tone now, gazing over Shiver, Kill, Bloodsbane, Snare, and the other senior Blood Mists. It was her pathos, her emotional appeal, and she intended to reel them in thoroughly. "As a wolf who lived in the mighty time of Verlust, I wondered how it could be. But as I look around, I see my answer. No mother of mine would show such cowardice, no mother of mine would fail to lead her people as she has failed to lead us. It was I that led you to battle, it was I that met with the wolf who calls himself Hades, and convinced him to hold back his Yozoran pack, and it is I who will continue to lead Blood Mist onto glory. Babylonia was an outdated figurehead, Verlust is an outdated figurehead. They are symbols for what we once were, but not what we are truly meant to be. We are Blood Mist -- an original pack in the very valley. We are wolves of a unique culture and existence that was sanctioned by the very Golden Wolf that every other pack claims to have on their side -- it was HE who made us and HE who made us just as we are! What gives them the right to tell us we aren't allowed to settle, or congregate, or be a pack like they are packs? We are the last of the wild lupines of this Earth, and we were brought back here for a reason -- learn from the past. I've been there and back and I have learned! I have learned what it is to live and die and what is worth living and dying for! Where is your Verlust? Where is your Babylonia? Gone, both of them, gone! They're not here to lead you through thick and thin like I will be and have been! Learn from the past -- the packs have failed to; no matter what, Blood Mist keeps coming back because we belong here. They can call us barbarians, they can call us evil, but there's a reason we remain here, under the same ancient name, while everytime they move across mountains, they have to change their's. Blood Mist has been to hell and back and we still remain, unchanged, undying, eternal. That is worth living and dying for."
Her facade had broken. The emotion in Assyria's words had been passionate, true, and real. And as she stood, eyes flashing across her audience, chest heaving, she could hardly believe the monologue belonged to her.
She had more strength buried inside of her than she knew. She didn't need Babylonia. She didn't need a family. Blood Mist was her family now.

Dang, girl! Cora blinked in astonishment. Well, that was a mouthful... But the young healer felt pride swell in her chest. She was a Blood Mist. She was part of the one last true pack. She had something to live for. The other packs did not.

Snare scowled darkly, expression sullen. She didn't like this at all -- she didn't like it one bit. All she had been in her time with Blood Mist was a henchman, really, carrying out the dirty work for the Blood Mist beta. As Assyria spoke, she felt only a slight shift in her view. Maybe she's right. What good did ripping off that healer's leg serve me? Sure, it was fun, and I was bored, but what good does that do for me? I don't really care, actually... Still, Snare swelled with confusion as she watched the events unfolding before her.

[Acacia]

Tangle stalked into camp his mind on other things. He looked at the wolves who ere conversing. He was just hoping to to be spotted. He might snap and attack a pack mate. It was not uncommon for a wolf to attack another but not for a neophyte to attack anyone older out of knowledge that they would lose.

[H.ell . Fi.re.|†A.lba]

Out of all the wolves Hellfire watched her intently, never breaking his stance. He was tense, audits perked forward, optics watching her every move. It was a though he were in a trance. As she began to speak about what it was to be a Blood Mist, he could feel pride swelling up inside of his chest. He felt good to have been able to get this far. Besides, Hellfire wasn't anything special in this pack. Not yet, anyways. He thought. They were one of the last. One of the last wild lupine packs. The others, they had softened. They had become weak. Weak inside, and out. All they wanted to do was settle down, and make peace. But wolves, real wolves were made of what Blood Mist was. I wonder what it feels like for that goody two shoes BurnNote to know that her own blood is Blood Mist? I bet it feels real good right about now. Ohh, I will kill her. I will get my revenge... Assyria's words were echoing through his audits for a few moments, and he finally saw her facade fall to the ground.

Hellfire's signature smirk plastered to his face. He could see her sense of pride. It was true. She had lead them to battle. She had been one to come up with the grand idea. But Hellfire couldn't help but feel a little pissy at the fact that she was taking all the credit. He could remember them having long conversations about battle plans, and such. No matter. They moved as one wolf: as a team. That's what BurnNote's dream boy couldn't see. We're going to rise together as a pack, and crush those who stand in our way. And there's no way the Dark Prince, or the Princess is going to stop us. He suddenly broke his stance, and spoke, quietly. They think we're breaking at the seams. They think that they've got nothing to lose. Just because we won the battle doesn't mean we're going to win the war, right? He turned toward his pack members, and flashed them his signature smirk once more.

Fuck that. We'll rise to power, just as Assyria had said. Yes, my fellow pack members. New blood... He shot a glance toward Assyria, and humbly bowed his head as he slid back to his rank, but his eyes never left her for a few moments. Just under his breath he muttered And revenge...

[Sivoncé™]

Assyria's eyes flashed as Hellfire spoke, but instead of lashing out at him for insolence as, perhaps, her predecessor would've, she curtly nodded her approval of his words. Silently, she relished in the rumble of assent that rippled throughout the pack. They were hungry, she could tell -- hungry for more blood. They would have to work fast, she knew, if they were going to seriously wound the other packs. As the other wolves growled and howled their approval, Assyria sat back, deep in thought.
What would be their next move, then? They would realize they can't defeat us without the help of the Yozorans. They would stand firm in their belief that, because they defeated Blood Mist altogether before, that they all must stand together to knock us down. Therefore, the three packs would conference with one another, and prepare a hefty proposal for the Yozorans. Something they couldn't deny....
"I have good news for you, my brethren," she began again, raising her voice above the others until they quieted. "Some of you have met him, but few realize who he truly is. They call him Hades -- the wolf who wears the skull of another. I have spoken privately with this wolf, and believe he is our ally. He, alone, out of all the other packs, realizes that Blood Mist does have purpose. The other packs believe we are simply murderers, but their ignorance will lead to their defeat. Hades is also the leader of the Yozoran pack; he is known to the packwolves as 'Bain'. I was able to convince him to keep his pack out of the fight, and Hades himself appeared at the end of the battle to scare the last of them off. It is my belief that the packs will try to regain Yozoran favor, but we are already one step ahead of them. In times like these, it is traditional to hold a Moonless Meeting, or gathering of the packs. It is my plan to go to Hades directly, speak to him, and gain the full alliance of the Yozorans. With their aid, we will teach the packs a powerful lesson, and slaughter the majority of them for their insolence; we are not to be trifled with!"