rivals // 1x1 mikhailo & welter

[mikhailo]

do not post unless you're either of us

[mikhailo]

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Athenril Jacqueline Nightingale

"Jack"

registered name;; Athenril Jacqueline Nightingale
nickname;; Jack
age;; 22
gender;; female, she/her
height;; 5'3
original pack;; Clan Nightingale
hierarchy;; alpha's daughter
about;;

Not a lot is known of Jack personally outside Clan Nightingale.
In it however, she's known to be exceptionally clever and logical. This can
cause her to be a little emotionally cold and more matter-of-fact than
she'd like to be. She tends to put others before herself to a fault.

As far as Jack's history, she had a rough upbringing. She turned
for the first time when she was a bit young for it. Her mother
passed away when she was ten along with her older brother
as a result of unrest with the vampires.

[འབྲོག་ཁྱི]

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─ 𝐃𝐈𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐆𝐎 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐀𝐍❜𝐓 𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐏? ─

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William "Will" Blake Mercer, known as Will, no one calls him
William unless he's in trouble // alpha's son in Clan Obsidian //
twenty-five years old // xcismale, he/him // xheterosexual //
dark brown hair // xdark brown eyes // six foot two // lean
muscular buildx // fragrance of leather and amber // xtattoo
of his family's emblem on his right shoulder; xa wolf with its
clawed feet splayed, xin a circle that resembles a ouroboros

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𝑾𝑬𝑳𝑳❟ 𝑾𝑯𝑬𝑵 𝒀𝑶𝑼 𝑩𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑲 𝑻𝑯𝑬𝑴 ──────────────

───────────── 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊

│███
│███
│███
│███
│███
│███

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𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐔𝐑 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄❟

⤷ ─𝘠𝘖𝘜 𝘊𝘈𝘕 𝘛𝘈𝘒𝘌 𝘐𝘛
───── ──𝘍𝘙𝘖𝘔 𝘔𝘌.

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𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬,
, , , 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬

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Will is a somewhat complicated presenc
e especially at first glance. His natural
tendency seems to be toward silent obs
ervation and the slight inner uncertaint
y of a young man. He holds his emotion
s in a tight grip, but growing up as the
cherished only son of the alpha has alm
ost infused his personality with someth
ing else: the silent resentment of some
one who has never been able to choose
a path free of expectations. When his c
ontrol cracks, he can fly into an angry o
utburst that most would write off as the

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│
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│

Will's wolf has his tall stature and
a compactly muscled physique wi
th long legs. His fur is a lighter br
own than his hair, and his eyes si
milarly lighten to a nearly golden
colour. Will has always been the
center of considerable attention
in his pack, not only because he
is the alpha's son, but because o
f his large size in wolf form.

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𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐕𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐓𝐘 𝐎𝐅 𝐕𝐎𝐖𝐒 ⤵
──────────── 𝐈❜𝐋𝐋 𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐏

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whims of a spoiled kid, but it's never been
as simple as that with Will. Maybe it would
be easier if he were simply an arrogant bo
y who knew he could do whatever he wishe
d without facing many consequences, yet h
e holds himself to impossible standards and
judges most of his own actions against a m
orality that would deem most angels to be
devils instead. And yet, he just can't seem
to make himself flawless.

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││

xxx

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𝑰 𝑻𝑹𝒀 𝑻𝑶 𝑹𝑬𝑴𝑬𝑴𝑩𝑬𝑹 ─ ─ ─ ─
⤷ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐋 ⤵
𝑾𝑨𝑺 𝑨𝑳𝑺𝑶 𝑮𝑰𝑽𝑬𝑵 𝑯𝑰𝑴 𝑩𝒀 𝑮𝑶𝑫

[mikhailo]

The wind whipped through Jack's gray-tan marble fur as she showed up for her first rotation of patrol in a small clearing of the forest near a cluster of houses owned by what was originally Clan Obsidian. Given that there was an uneven number in the packs, and neither of them held a great deal of trust for each other, it was agreed by both alphas that patrols were to be handled by a pair- one from each original pack. This was to cut down on any unrest and distrust, because while both of the packs merged with each other, there was still palpable tension in the air in each others' presence. Most of the higher ranks of Clan Nightingale still had not let Clan Obsidian see them as humans; Jack was no exception to that.

They called it Reunification. Jack supposed that she found it to be preferable to her entire pack dying, but that's all she could really say about Reunification. Her mother and brother had long since passed, but even still, the grief felt fresh whenever she stopped for a moment to catch her breath. She focused on that when she needed to convince herself that this was beneficial to her pack. Her family. She had to rationalize it, because she held a deep-rooted disdain for Clan Obsidian the same way that her pack did.

The patrols had gone... generally well, so far. There had been a fight here and there in the past few weeks that they've started doing this, but nothing that caused any catastrophic division yet. This was all still fresh, and while the bad blood between the packs was ever so prominent, they had patience specifically requested by their respective alphas. However, in her first patrol, Jack had been with one of Clan Obsidian; no one of higher rank, she couldn't remember who they were. They'd run into a group of vampires, about four of them and she'd been badly injured, and was taken off patrol rotation for recovery. While they had accelerated healing, her many injuries both required a bit of time, and her father had resorted to being a mother hen. Reunification almost didn't move forward due to the finger-pointing both of the clans were doing at each other over whose fault it was, though Jack had shut it down when she was able to to her father. It was no one's fault.

The alphas were not above patrol, and that was obvious as Harbinger appeared from the tree line. He was a large wolf, steel gray and black swirling in his fur. His eyes matched Jack's, a brilliant, cold silver. He idled up, seeming to scan her as if she was the one that just returned from patrol as she lowered her head in respect. "I can send Declan to help." Harbinger's tone even in Jack's mind was cold and removed.
"I'm fully capable of handling a patrol." Jack answered, not insubordinate, but sure of herself. It earned a nod from Harbinger. He needed to rest, night was falling. Jack glanced at the Obsidian member with Harbinger, and in the low light she scanned the area for who was supposed to be on this patrol with her.

[འབྲོག་ཁྱི]

⯭. ──── 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐄𝐑

Fading light dappled with drifting particles of dust fell slanting into the room, shifting strangely as the trees outside swayed in and out of the sun's path. The broad back of Will's father blocked a section of the kitchen cabinets as he poured himself coffee, and although Will could not see it from where he was standing, he knew that his father's face would be inscrutable, and he knew that he was listening to every word being said. And so, even as Will's mother — the Obsidian Alpha — talked at him about the patrol he was to go on and what it would mean for the pack if it weren't to go well, his eyes kept flicking to his father's statuesque form.

"... this Nightingale was injured before, and that cannot happen again. William." A strong but gentle hand grasped Will's chin and turned his face toward his mother's. He had been caught distracted, but she continued on with what she had wanted to say in the first place. "At the first sign of trouble, you will turn back and retrieve reinforcements. We need to use our heads. Do you understand?"

Even as Will was looking at his mother, he could tell his father's body had just stiffened, like a shift in the air, and a slight movement as he moved his weight from one foot to another, caught from the corner of his eye, over his mother's shoulder. He was an old-fashioned wolf: kill on sight, act before you hesitate, and as much as he disagreed, he would never argue with Will's mother. And so Will was the pawn, never asked to act against the orders of the Alpha, but sensitive enough to tell when he was caught in the riptide of opposing expectations. The choice would have been easy for any other pack member: the Alpha's word overrules personal opinion. But these were his parents. His mother and father. It wasn't so simple.

"Yes, ma'am," he replied, and felt the pressure building inside of his head. It was as if no matter what he did, there was someone he would be disappointing, sooner or later. And all the while, he wanted to be making his own choices, but it was almost if he couldn't bring himself to. Not with these eyes watching his every move. He excused himself from the room, an invisible thundercloud looming over his head as he left the house. Maybe it was this expectation from his parents to have certain opinions and attitudes that had resulted in Will not having much of an opinion at all about the Reunification. He had seen some in Clan Obsidian spit on the ground in disdain after speaking the name Nightingale, but he didn't feel... much anything toward them, at least not when it came to the brief time he would be spending together with a stranger on patrol. Of course he was cautious; the Nightingales were very much so, and it seemed to rub off on him, making him similarly tense and slow to lower his guard.

Outside, the night was crawling ever closer, and Will shifted almost as soon as his feet hit the grass. The wind felt pleasant on his coat, and the darker the day grew, the better its brown tones would blend with the forest floor — large as he was. He followed his nose around the corner of the house, and as the scent of the Nightingales grew stronger and two wolves became visible in the yard in-between houses, he felt his head lowering instinctively, this uncertainty between their Clans falling down on him like a weight. Will was used to being the focus of judging attention, but he felt as if he were walking in front of a jury that was to decide on his life. It was a strange feeling, like a nervous pressure on the back of his neck.

And that was before he realized that one of these wolves standing a short distance from him was the Harbinger — their equivalent to Obsidian's Alpha. His stomach lurched, but he pushed the feeling down and kept his feet from faltering. "Evening sir. Nightingale," he greeted, grateful that the forceful nature of his calm voice didn't seem to have been audible. "I am Will Mercer, from Clan Obsidian." Son of Grace and Emmett Mercer, heir to the clan.

[mikhailo]

It was not long before the wind carried familiar scents of more of Clan Obsidian. Whoever was next in the rotation was here, and Jack felt uneasy. She knew it would most likely be fine, she hadn't been around Obsidian super often in general aside from her being hurt, though whenever she was she felt the distrust from them, and herself. That same feeling washed over her now, and she attempted to ignore it, snuff it out in her mind. They would never get anywhere if they couldn't get past it at least temporarily. Her ear quirked before turning her head and catching sight of a wolf closing the distance between them, his head lowered; this wolf was not a threat, though was uncertain. Jack imagined he could sense the uncertainty in her and Harbinger as well.

Harbinger recognized Will without a thought; most of his dealings were with Will's parents, meaning he'd probably met Will at least in passing more times than not when he did speak with them. The matching eye color between Harbinger and his daughter was likely noticeable, but Harbinger hardly cared. He'd raised Jack to handle herself, and of all of the wolves from Obsidian, he didn't think that the Obsidian alpha's son would harm his daughter purposely, though he wasn't sure about accidentally. After Jack's accident, he was not sure of what he thought of their judgment.

Jack, on the other hand, felt intimidated as Will approached them. She'd not met him, but the first thing she noticed was this wolf's size. He was tall, muscular. She scanned him as he stopped near them, taking in his brown fur, his golden eyes. She imagined it probably appeared as though she was passing judgment, which was not her intention as she averted her gaze momentarily. She herself was a bit smaller, though faster and more agile. If a fight required brute force, she was not winning it, but she was generally clever and quick-witted.

Harbinger listened to Will's greeting and nodded. He glanced at his daughter, and even small mannerisms in his movement exposed that he was rather protective, even if he wasn't exceptionally warm toward her or anyone else. "This is Athenril, my daughter." His tone was short on the second half of the introduction, almost as a warning to the other, though it appeared Jack was having none of it. She was more than capable of handling herself.
This showed as she stepped forward, correcting Harbinger, "Everyone calls me Jack. Nice to meet you," Her tone held no warmth. Even as night fell, the darkness didn't seem to camouflage her white-gray fur, the moonlight reflecting off of the white on her face. There was no doubt that she stuck out in daylight or moonlight; she wasn't the color of the forest even if she wished she was, even with the bit of light tan coloring on her.

Harbinger nodded to them both this time and spoke as he turned to leave. "Don't do anything foolish." This was directed at Jack, clearly, as he'd glanced at her when he said it. His tone was a bit clipped, even for Harbinger, and Jack narrowed her eyes at him as he trotted away.
"Rats, there goes half of my plans, then." Jack muttered lowly; it was likely Harbinger did not hear her, because he kept going. Not that it mattered if he did. She didn't check in with Will or even spare him a look, she just started padding in the direction of the area of patrol.

[འབྲོག་ཁྱི]

⯭. ──── 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐄𝐑

The Harbringer's daughter. Will heard the warning in his tone and fixed his stance to be more reassuring in response. He raised his head, only to nod it briefly in greeting. These were nearly reflexive responses trained into the son of an alpha, to be respectful but confident, calm but not meek. Yet inside, he was more than unsure about what this all meant. Truth be told, Will had hoped to be paired with one of the older wolves. Older, as in old. It was easier to ignore their rambling insults as the ravings of hidebound elders who had spent their entire lives distrusting the Obsidians and could not fathom changing. Coming from someone his own age, the words would inevitably cut deeper. It would be harder to ignore.

Jack introduced herself, and her courteous words could have fooled him, but her tone was clear. There was no fondness between them. For a moment, the darkness seemed to reach its peak, before the clouds shifted and the moon made its appearance in the sky. She had a pale pelt that seemed like a reflection of its light. According to his mother, Jack had been injured before, but she appeared fine now, as she took off for their patrol route. She seemed a little bullish to be honest, insistent about being able to look after herself. Maybe her father's warning about not doing anything foolish was more than parental overcaution.

Will felt responsible, especially after his mother's speech, and the little thundercloud above his head made its return. He stopped ogling after her and turned to the brush, studying the scents present somewhat over-eagerly in a futile attempt to bring his mind somewhere else. He usually felt at peace in the woods, especially on calm nights when the weather was mild, but now he felt his attention being torn between two things: surveying his surroundings and looking after this Jack. She had already been injured once. Had it been the consequence of bad luck or carelessness?

Everything about the situation came with its own sense of unease. Had they deliberately paired two heirs for patrol to ensure they wouldn't be targeted or had it been a coincidence? Neither option seemed particularly calming to him. The attitude in her mutterings at her clan's alpha of all people irritated him. Did she not understand the seriousness of their circumstances? If she was set on finding trouble, Will wanted no part in it. He had been told to complete patrol and come home without an incident, and that was what he intended to do. His ire turned toward his parents. Why would they put this responsibility on him? Was it some sort of test? And from who? His mother or the Reunification as a whole? If they intended to judge the functionality of this reunion based on this patrol, he feared they would be failing.

A rustle in the vegetation made his ears prick, but his nose confirmed it was nothing more than some nocturnal critter. Suddenly, he felt awkward. The need to say something rose up in his mind, and he landed on a question he hoped would prove inoffensive. "Is Jack short for anything?"

[mikhailo]

Jack scanned the terrain around her easily, tipping her ears at small noises but not wasting her time turning her head unless the noise itself was rather suspicious. So far, she had nothing to go on when it came to Will, her patrol partner, at the moment. He had not said much, and truthfully Jack wasn't sure it mattered to her. She was curious, sure, but her curiosity often got her into heaps of trouble when she was younger. She's grown up a bit, and with the seriousness of the last few years, most of her mischievousness had been sucked out of her and replaced with the weight of responsibility.

While Will was pondering the reasoning for sending two heirs on the patrol together, Jack was actually thinking of the exact same thing. She hadn't met Will until tonight, though she knew of him. She was moderately sure the pairing was an unfortunate coincidence at first, given Harbinger's reaction. But, the more she thought about it the more she wasn't convinced it was a coincidence. If there was a reason, Harbinger had clearly decided not to share it with her. She supposed it could potentially be that Harbinger didn't feel comfortable sending their lower ranked pack members with him, as he's worried of them seeming expendable. Maybe he knew more of how Obsidian treated their hierarchy than she did. It was puzzling. Most of Nightingale's older members were also available; they were colossal grouches, but they could have taken this patrol; even if they complained and insulted Will the entire time.
Though, perhaps, that could be it. Harbinger knew that Jack was comfortable in her silence, and would not willingly pick a fight with any member of Obsidian, let alone Will or any of the other higher ranks. Then, as that thought went through her mind, she also doubted that either pack could afford to hold a grudge over a moral offense, leaving her back at square one of her confusion.

She was thoroughly surprised when Will spoke to her, figuring that this would be a quiet patrol. She didn't mind conversation, at least she had company. The attack a week ago had really rattled her, and a part of her that she refused to fully acknowledge felt oddly comforted by the size of the large wolf accompanying her. When said wolf asked if Jack was short for anything, she couldn't see the harm in responding. "My middle name is Jacqueline, never liked the nickname Jackie. I went with Jack, and it fits better anyway." She responded easily. "Athenril is a mouthful," She added in explanation.
That wasn't really the reason she didn't use the name, but she wasn't going to volunteer information tied to her emotions. She wasn't sure how much Will knew about Nightingale or the alpha female- her mother. He might know that she'd died when Jack was young, but not that Jack had been named after her; she'd ceased to use her first name after Athenril Sr. passed, as she felt she could never live up to the person her mother was. That feeling started to annoyingly prod at her in the back of her mind until she shoved it away mentally.

As they travelled the route of the patrol, Jack stopped and smelled the air for a moment, growling to herself; she was sure Will could smell it too; it was going to rain, making their job a bit harder as it would soon wash away the scents of the forest; they'd be lucky to catch any scents not immediately near them depending on how heavy the rain was, and would make it a little difficult to hear quieter noises. "Of course it's going to rain." She remarked. As if on cue, it began drizzling a bit. She continued, paying no mind to it, "I assume Will is short for William, then." It was more of a statement than a question, though it occurred to her she could be wrong; sometimes parents named their kids short names. As she conversed, she seemed more vigilant as the weather began to change bit by bit.

[འབྲོག་ཁྱི]

((sorry about the delay; wasn't feeling too well yesterday when I'd planned on finishing Will's post, but I'm better today!))

⯭. ──── 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐄𝐑

From the corner of his eye, Will watched the small movements Jack made as they advanced through the forest. His attention should have been on their surroundings, but he still wasn't entirely comfortable turning his back on her. It's not that he distrusted the Nightingales, let alone expected one of them to attack him, but he didn't really trust them, either. He stepped through a wall of bracken, feeling the fronds brush past his sides, and as he surfaced on the other side, he heard Jack answering his question. He hadn't expected to feel surprised by this — he had asked the question, so clearly he had expected an answer, but apparently he hadn't been entirely certain about it.

He listened silently, confirming that he had heard her with only a benevolent rumble from his throat, until she asked a question — well, it was a statement — in turn. It seemed it warranted a reply. She had answered him sincerely, after all. "William, yes," he confirmed. He left out the part where he had been named after a poet — it had been entirely his mother's doing. It usually made for a great icebreaker, especially when meeting new people, and he wasn't usually particularly shy about it, but, suddenly, he felt a little embarrassed to mention it. Maybe later.

Will felt a droplet of rain splash against the back of his ear just as Jack mentioned it. There had been a cool, sweet smell in the air throughout the evening, but he hadn't been certain whether the rain would choose to fall overnight. Now they had their answer. He flicked the water away, only for more to strike his muzzle and begin trickling down his brows. As it started to soak through into his coat, he felt a chill run through his heated skin. He slowed his steps to shake himself out in the hopes of dispelling some of it from his fur, but the rain showed no signs of slowing, and soon he was soaked through to the skin once more.

In the end, it wasn't the wetness or even the cold that got to him, but how the weather seemed to close the forest in around them. The landscape of scents narrowed to a small sphere in their vicinity. It was claustrophobic. He was on edge again, but he reminded himself of the duties that had been lain on him. "We should remain within sight of each other," he relayed, possibly in a more assertive tone than he should have, but the human within was grinding his teeth against the feeling of threat that now seemed all the more close to the nape of his neck.

The further they trekked from home, the more Will felt like the distance was stretching faster and faster in spite of their steady pace, and eventually, they would reach a distance where the safety of the pack would fall away altogether and going back for help were something to happen would become more difficult. He felt uneasy with the thought, especially with the voices of his mother and father still echoing in his mind, warning him not to put either of them in unnecessary danger, but a part of him didn't mind that gulf of freedom and quiet. It was almost as if he were stepping out of the shadow of his parents and into an existence of his own. This existence wasn't much more than rain and cold and wet in the dark of the night, but it was somehow easier than the constant eyes of the pack following him wherever he went.

But it wasn't entirely bad. The grasses and leaves of the forest had a sort of silvery glow about them now, wet with rain, in the moonlight. He imagined it would have been easy to forget about oneself here, to lose all caution and drop his guard, and so he clung on to his own even tighter. A bird, large and black from the night, took off from the bushes in scrabbling flight, dashing through the rain right above his head, and Will made quick work of pretending that he hadn't been startled. He felt the need to hide his unease underneath the cover of conversation again, and so he searched his mind for something to talk about. The name Harbinger had used. He had never heard it before, and he realized it had been lingering on his mind. "Is Athenril a family name?" he asked, innocently enough, but as soon as he had spoken, he felt that he had misstepped somehow, although he didn't know why.

[mikhailo]

((all good, glad you feel better))

Jack's hatred of storms and the rain enveloped her as a downpour started to wash over them. She was going to be freezing when she got home; she hated patrolling in the rain. Her coat kept her generally warm, but there would be a consistent chill to the bone that would only get worse once she shifted back to her human form. Not only that, but she knew they were in more danger in the rain. Scents would not carry as far, and old scents would be dampened if not entirely washed away; hard to tell the age of them. She barely reacted when Will confirmed his full first name, figuring as much.

When Will said that they should stay in sight of each other, she nodded. "Agreed," She answered, her tone clipped, though clearly not at him as she scanned the area around them, ears twitching. The cool air began sweeping through the forest as they walked; she seemed extra cautious and re-checking scents. She clearly did not want to experience another attack. She'd just recovered, and they needed Reunification to work; for Reunification to work, she needed to not get herself killed on Obsidian's watch. That would prove to be a challenge if anyone was at all out tonight.

She was not guarding herself against Will or the conversation as much as she was focused on guarding herself against the unknowns of the forest; this began clear as Will's question made her stop dead in her tracks as the question struck her deep. For the first time, she looked fully at him before looking away again, walking forward. "Athenril was my mother's name. She was murdered by a coven a long time ago," and Jack again went silent. She was going to add that she didn't want to discuss further, but she was sure Will could tell by how surprised she was at the question itself.

Though, she didn't have to say that as she immediately froze at a scent near them, and she moved slightly east, trailing her nose on the ground after it. "Vampires. Not sure how old. Damn storm-" She cut herself off, her ears twitching. She was trying to pick up on any sound at all, the rain droplets muffling most noises. She frantically scanned the area, hoping that it was an old smell. When she saw a slight flash in the corner of her eye, she immediately widened her stance, snarling as she glanced around. She recognized the scent; the coven that attacked her last week. She backed toward Will; if they were about to get attacked by four or more vampires, they'd need to watch each other's backs and stay close. She thought about howling for the rest of her pack, but she didn't know how many there were. One to three were fine, they could handle that. Any more and they'd need help. The rain dampening the scents in the air were not allowing her to make a sound estimate.