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Post by Squeeble. on Dec 21, 2007 23:10:21 GMT -5
 The air inside the skeleton of what once was a beautiful home and now was a monstrously large building was devastatingly stale as the St. Bernard kicked up dust as he travelled from room to room. A defined clicking noise accompanied him as he moved, and it wasn't the only noise, but it was the only stable one. The noise inside of the house was almost musical in it's rythym and variety; his toenails created the drumming, and the creaks and squeaks of resisting, rusting, rotting floorboards and frames as well as doors and doorways accompanied him to create the eeriest opera there ever was. But it didn't seem to bother him at all.
The dust rose thick and visible inside the mansion, and blurred the large dog's vision almost debilitatingly. Almost is the key word, however, and Plexico had gone through worse than dust in his four years of breathe, and he wasn't about to stop any time soon. The muscles in his legs rippled with every step the dog took, and made the bulk of his weight blatantly apparent. His glossy brown and white coat covered the muscles proudly, each hair oiled and fluffed to create the look of even more bulk on the dog. He was a fine sight to behold anywhere, but Plexico was turned even more magnificent inside this deadened shell of a life that once was.
Plexico nudged a door, and it denied him access to the adjacent room with an angry squeak. He nudged again, harder this time, a boxer's uncertain jab at his larger opponent. Once more the door squeaked, but refused to give way. The male took a few steps back, and with a sharp intake of breath to prepare himself for the collision, his mighty pillars churned and he propelled forwards- directly at the guilty door.
His bulk met the house was a shudder and at the moment of impact, time seemed to pause as fate decided which would win- House or Canine. Eventually the mobile party won, and with a sigh and a crack the door opened and Plexico was deposited on the other side. Raising himself from the floor, the beast shook himself, and dust flew into the air, seeming ashamed to have marred the perfection of his beauty. Plexico did not notice the wayward dust nor the perfect beauty; he only attended to his head. This mansion had proved to be everything he had hoped it would. It held great promise of greater beauty, and Plexico hardly dared believe his luck, but he scented and sighted it, and so it was so. He looked around, intrigued by the room he had found.
It was the house's greatest treasure, the thing it had gaurded closer than anything else. But why? As Plexico looked closer, he could tell beyond a doubt. The stunning trim, the largeness, the clear, tiled floor... no doubt about it. This was the giant's ball room.
And, moreover, it was the newest Vann City pack's meeting room.
A deep, masculine voice rumbled through the giant of a house. It came from a large dog, placed magnificently on the front step of the mansion. His large eyes scanned the surrounding brush for any sign of life, and his larger voice announced his suspicions.
Come, future members of the Cani di Branco! We will rise strong among the squabble of the strays and show Vann City what a real pack looks like! [/blockquote][/center] |
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Post by BRITTANY, on Dec 22, 2007 0:09:33 GMT -5
OOC; im thinking this post sucks, sorry.__________________________________________________________________________ There was a field, not even presentable enough to be placed as sidewalk or any walk-way for that matter, placed in the smack dab middle of the world - her world for that matter. The weeds were like corn stalk, only less corn-y and more grassy. Eitherway it was a menace to her misporportioned body. Hell, she wasn't even knee high to the grass let alone avaliable to tread over it like some beastly madman not to mention the invaluable nusence of snow.
The sun was flaring, blazing rather, but the toll of sundown was begining to wan on it's power alongside the cloudy skies and icey coldness. An old mansion, told to be a prehistoric part of the whole place, stood in present form - modled and quite a magnificent piece of work, before the hazel-eyed dog. Phillip took note to stand still for a moments time to stare at the monumental building as it seemingly raised an air of victory - like it beat time itself. The paint was peeling from head to toe and weeds tore up the ground around it in complete evidence that this place'd been abandoned a while back.
Then came the obvious, the overbearing scent marks that were the present resident - only it would seem this was lacked the human trademark. A dog. Phillip enterpreted, figuring it had to be a lively and bulky fellow to get through the madness of grass and weeds and still have had time to let his scent sink in. The medium-sized dog trudged on up until a gate gave away, also promising the visual of a heavily coated creature - a large fellow not worth even attempting to batte with. He must've been the steady scent she'd smelled for his confidence was through the roof.
Phil squeezed her way through the gate, his vocals finally ringing from his loud lips in a sense to recruit all in a ten mile radius, quite frankly. Timidness was a feature lacked in such a female, the main reason why she hesitated none at the mercy of the large male. Instead, she moved on to show she was nothing of a threat, though nothing of a failure either. She was what she wanted to be at a certain period of time. She was Phillip. Any contradictors could simply sniff her furry, dirty ass. "Well, well, well. Let's hope that offer wasn't given pointless, Mister---" The sentence was cut off as she paced herself a leap away from the male, in a head start if his violence took the best of him. For, needless to say, she wasn't the biggest of the bunch and his brawn could easily smash her wit. Plus, she'd yet to get a name from this male.
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Post by Squeeble. on Dec 30, 2007 13:17:24 GMT -5
------As the huge dog watched over his property proudly, he could smell only one scent of a canine on the wind. Perhaps he would have to go into town to recruit, for the mansion was a bit off the beaten track. Nevertheless, he did not speak, but waited for the scent to announce itself as a canine, either a friend or a foe. There were no neutrals in Plexico's world. His darkened outlook on life could have been labelled pessimistic, but it was not truly so. Plexico just liked to prepare himself for the worst, to expect the worst of others, so that any less than the worst would seem favourable. It was an interesting way of conducting business, one that Plexico had adopted when he was just a pup, and one that he would keep on using until he drew his very last, bloodied breath. It was a way of life, HIS way of life.
Plexico's train of thouhgt was abruptly derailed as the canine in the bushes finally revealed themselves, and from the look and shape of them, it was a femme who had chosen to answer. His large jowels did not curve into a smile, but remained loose, hanging where they should be. Another way of life for the dog; he rarely smiled. Not that he was rarely happy, no, but he rarely felt the need to express himself. His emotions were not needed to decide war against anything, and he did not care to announce himself, and weaken himself. For happiness, open happiness, was weakness, because it was key to life; and if one saw that you were happy, they could figure out why and destroy it. So, for the good of those things that did make the large dog happy, he kept it discreet.
As the femme came closer to his throne and his home, Plexico observed her. She seemed brave enough, a trait that he much admired in others as well as himself. She was not exactly what he'd call large, but she was no chihuahua either. Her frame seemed sturdy, and she seemed to have only a little trouble getting through the tangle and webbed mess that the yard created. All in all, he approved of her, so far that is. First impressions were everything, and he had yet to get her name. Or give it, for that matter, but he was about to. After all, he had called her here, and she had yet to give hers either. It all pointed to him giving his first, and so his deep, rumbling vocals took over again, and this time at a lower volume. After all, he was not calling a meeting anymore.
It was now in session.
Yes, Miss, I am sure that it was not. I am Plexico Von Duugen The First, and I am supposing you are a potential Cani Di Branco member. If you'll follow me inside, I believe I can begin the interview.
Without waiting for a response, the large dog turned himself back towards the door, the porch creaking and protesting under his grotesque weight. They were not used to such massive amounts. His back was now fully exposed to the dog, but he was confident she would not attack him, and if she did, he was confident he could have the upper hand merely because of size and mass. He may have looked like an idiot, but Plexico was far from it. His cunning told him, to display his alphaship, confidence was key, and he was going to display confidence right down to his smallest toenail, so help him God.
He began to walk inside, heading towards the ball room he had conquered only an hour or so ahead of time. In the back of his head, Plexico hoped there weren't rodents. |
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Post by wowposter on Oct 31, 2008 5:37:33 GMT -5
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