Samson
Pack Werewolf
Deceased
Yeah I've got the best intentions, for a little bit of anarchy but not the hurting kind
Posts: 93
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Post by Samson on Jun 26, 2008 17:02:37 GMT
Samson would be among the first to admit that when it came to many of the things Gabriel was knowledgeable about, he was woefully ignorant. He didn’t know the finer details of how to fight aside from an acceptable use of his knife and while Samson could do all manner of acrobatic feats of daring bravery, he didn’t know how to use any such skill to a ‘proper’ use, such as defending those he cared about. Like Gabriel he didn’t think there was any excuse for not knowing something if you wanted to, more so when it was so important.
It was on his To Do List after all. Samson had just never been terribly good at doing the things in the order he had originally given the tasks and often other things would piggy back onto the ‘learn about fighters’ task and then completely leap over it and more and more it would be pushed further down the list while Samson engaged in learning how to wield a plastic sword, or track down imaginary killers or even discovering the merits of different shampoos.
“What would I do without you at my side?” Samson exclaimed fondly, bouncing on his heels in excitement. It would admittedly help his cause more than a little to find an actual living person to question as there was only so much time he could spend practising with himself. Himself!Samson was a crafty person, who never answered the questions asked, and only managed to make the problem more confusing. For that at least, he had to be applauded, even if Samson could have done with a helpful mental witness to practise on.
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Gabriel
Beta Werewolf
Bella's Pack
Tell me what you feel, now you're here.
Posts: 64
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Post by Gabriel on Jul 21, 2008 21:16:56 GMT
Knowledge wasn’t everything. True, many would say that knowledge was power, but in some cases, that just wasn’t true, certainly not true enough to determine whether or not an individual was worthy of any number of things. Gabriel did not judge people on their intelligence, nor did he value people for their physical prowess. Just because he was a warrior himself, that didn’t mean that was all he saw in others, their worth in battle, their strength and efficiency, as well as their ferocity when it came to warfare. Not every wolf was a soldier, and Gabriel respected that there were those in a pack who had other uses, other duties to fulfil, even if, like Samson’s, they seemed less than vital to most.
“I’m sure you would prevail just the same,” the Argentinean male assured the Greek in his company, giving him a quiet smile of confidence. He could only imagine what Isabella and Neal would say if they were to see him in this position, not only socialising with Samson but indulging in his fanciful games and playing along. But there was a first time for everything, and what better time to go along with Samson than now?
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Samson
Pack Werewolf
Deceased
Yeah I've got the best intentions, for a little bit of anarchy but not the hurting kind
Posts: 93
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Post by Samson on Aug 2, 2008 19:57:59 GMT
In times of ‘peace’ – even in times of war – Samson liked to think that he played a very important role within the pack in his own way. He held the prestigious office of; official moral officer to the pack. Of course, it was only official in his own head and while a number of his minions were snapping at his heels in terms of providing the good service to the rest in the hotel, he still stood above them. For the moment at least and Samson was pretty sure that his inner monologue needed some kind of evil laughter track every time he thought something along the lines of ‘for the moment’. It seemed to imply he was going to do something about it and he was. Samson was going to be as zany and Samson-like as he always was.
“Note to self: get evil laughter track.” The words were muttered almost too softly for Gabriel to hear before his brain snapped back onto the topic and conversation at hand. “Nonsense!” Samson exclaimed, bright smile on his face. “Without you who knows what terribly improbable events could befall me? No, no, no, far better for you to help out in a vaguely human shield sort of way so if I start to scream like a girl you will be able to come to my rescue.”
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Gabriel
Beta Werewolf
Bella's Pack
Tell me what you feel, now you're here.
Posts: 64
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Post by Gabriel on Aug 29, 2008 10:56:49 GMT
Everyone in a pack held their place, and they were all important in their own way. It was not just the Alphas who were responsible for holding things together, nor did that responsibility fall just to the Betas. It wasn’t just the Fighters’, either. It was for everyone, each and every wolf in a pack; it was a team effort, something that was very much lacking in their current situation, a fact that weighed Gabriel down with regret. He could only imagine how Bella had to be feeling, as their Alpha. Gabriel hoped the Argentinean female didn’t hold herself accountable for their surroundings. Who could have predicted things would fall apart this way?
“Shield?” Gabriel’s brows had lifted. “I do hope you mean that figuratively. It wouldn’t be very dramatic if I just stood in front of you, should the worst happen.” Amused by his own participation in this odd turn of events, Gabriel smiled, glancing around. “It wouldn’t be very heroic, either.” More like foolish, to simply stand and shield and not even fight. But perhaps Gabriel was thinking about this whole thing far too logically, and therefore, taking some of the point away from the ‘exercise’.
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Samson
Pack Werewolf
Deceased
Yeah I've got the best intentions, for a little bit of anarchy but not the hurting kind
Posts: 93
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Post by Samson on Sept 3, 2008 16:14:13 GMT
When one part of a machine started to behave oddly, or weaken under the strain then it was the duty of every other cute little cog to pick up the slack, or so Samson thought. It was an analogy that had worked well enough in the past even though the Greek male couldn’t help but feel that it failed a little when the weakening parts were the Alphas. It worried him to know that some part of the machinery of the pack wasn’t working as well as it could, worried him that he was even thinking such thoughts because weak was not the sort of adjective that a pack wolf was supposed to think of in conjunction with their Alphas.
“Well, you can do more than stand.” Gabriel could do a little dance against any enemy! Even Samson had to take a moment to mentally imagine that one, which then led at once to him imagining every unlikely member of the pack doing the most unlikely dance, right from those such as Finn all the way up the wise fighters whom Gabriel could honestly be counted among; Mateo, Isabella, Neal. It was all very bizarre and Samson would have paid any amount of money to see even a little hint of that. “If the worst should happen, then you can transform into an autobot and I’ll transform into someone who is heroic and yet stays out of the fighting.” Not the Samson was a coward, but he didn’t belong fighting and was secure enough in himself to admit it.
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Gabriel
Beta Werewolf
Bella's Pack
Tell me what you feel, now you're here.
Posts: 64
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Post by Gabriel on Oct 13, 2008 0:39:06 GMT
The analogy of the pack as a machine and the members as ‘cute little cogs’ was an odd one, but not inaccurate, save, perhaps, for the ‘cute’ part. It would depend on the opinion, of course. But still, word choice aside, they really were a machine, and right now, not a well oiled one as they ought to be. It made them weak and vulnerable, and that disturbed Gabriel, as much as he chose to hide his feelings, as was usually the case, a habit he had gotten into centuries ago when being easy to read was a weakness in and of itself. The pack was exposed, essentially, even here in their home, behind their doors and walls. Wolves were perceptive, they all knew something was wrong, and any outside of their pack, rogues and enemies, even vampires, would be able to decipher that message and see that they could be manipulated.
Dancing was one thing Gabriel would not be doing, at least not in public and without a very good reason. Dance though he could, he had no need to do so, and therefore, would be keeping his feet well and truly controlled. The new reference did, admittedly, catch Gabriel off guard, and failed to really catch and take on a meaning in his mind, and he had a feeling his confusion showed on his face. There was no harm in admitting ignorance now, when there was no danger of it being abused in any way. “Autobot?”
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Samson
Pack Werewolf
Deceased
Yeah I've got the best intentions, for a little bit of anarchy but not the hurting kind
Posts: 93
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Post by Samson on Oct 26, 2008 19:10:05 GMT
They were all cute little cogs and Samson was fully prepared to shake his fist and look as menacing as he could to anyone who said otherwise. He could do a pretty good ‘growl’ word as well, to fully show his darker side to those who tried to claim that such an analogy was flawed in the cute sense. Doing something like that would easily distract him from the more distressing part because Samson knew as well as Gabriel that things were wrong and that it wasn’t just the pack who would be able to sense it and if need be, take advantage of it. The fighter was just far, far better at understanding the rumbling feelings in his gut and being able to put it into clear words – Samson also knew that speaking and laying it out clearly was something Gabriel was highly unlikely to do and he respected that.
It was a good thing he didn’t know how much truth was in the imagery of Gabriel actually dancing, otherwise that would be yet another thing for Samson to chase after like a dog with a bone; at least until something shiny and sparkly caught his attention and he ran off after that instead. Something new and different, rather like the admission that Autobot hadn’t kicked started the right memory, which was a crime, a downright dirty crime. “An Autobot! Like Optimus Prime, the leader! Transformers, robots in disguise, cars, explosions, cheap Japanese imports of plastic toys which break when you try and transform them into things… stupid Japanese toys, can’t handle the truth of a werewolf trying to make one…” Samson trailed off, still grumbling, thoughts having easily switched tracks to his grievances against the makers of Transformer toys.
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Gabriel
Beta Werewolf
Bella's Pack
Tell me what you feel, now you're here.
Posts: 64
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Post by Gabriel on Dec 29, 2008 14:50:41 GMT
If the members were cute little cogs, then did that mean the fighters warranted a different designation or analogy, if that was even what it was? And above them, the leaders as well? Of course, continuing on that pattern, it stood to reason that Neal deserved an individual title, given his status as the Senior Fighter, essentially after the Alphas and Betas in the pack hierarchy. Perhaps that was taking it too seriously, applying too much logic to an exercise that was, at best, meant for amusement and entertaining imagery at best.
When it came to the elusive subject of dancing, Gabriel didn’t really mind who knew that he could do it, only that they understood it was the formal side that he was adept at. The kind of dancing that Samson had in mind was nothing like what the fighter could achieve, and for that, the Argentinean male would no doubt be thankful. A light chuckle was offered in exchange for Samson’s explanation of an Autobot, and Gabriel nodded. “I see. Well, someone should send them a letter or an email; suggest making them stronger.” He had no doubt that, were he able to get his hands on an address, Samson would volunteer himself for such an endeavour, and honestly, Gabriel sort of hoped it came to pass, if only so he could be reassured that some of the pack, at least, were the same, and comfortingly so.
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Samson
Pack Werewolf
Deceased
Yeah I've got the best intentions, for a little bit of anarchy but not the hurting kind
Posts: 93
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Post by Samson on Jan 18, 2009 2:45:51 GMT
Maybe the fighters were the nuts and bolts, or even the oil that had to run through the machine to keep it lubricated, working smoothly enough for all the other parts of the machine to run without rubbing against each other and causing painful friction. Granted, there would always be some kind of fiction between some of the cogs because people – unlike cogs – tended to be different and as much as Samson dreamed that one day everyone would get along perfectly; that wasn’t likely to happen. Plus, if it did, the root cause would probably be pod people or scary brain washing; maybe in the style of Big Brother, inevitable resistance cells none withstanding. But the cogs right now were rubbing too painfully together and it was making him all flaky.
Flaky like breaking bits of skin, at this rate he was going to come out in a rash and then where would they all be? Samson hoped it would be a rash in a cool place and not an awkward one.
“I shall write a strongly worded letter of complaint and hit hard on the keys as a I type to express my non caps lock anger!” Samson lifted a hand high towards the sky, the same hand that still held the plastic sword so that his pose resembled something from a comic, hero brandishing his weapon proudly. He had no problems with being predictable in his own, wacky manner. There was comfort to be had in some things staying the same and if he was being honest with himself, Samson wouldn’t want to be anything other than he was. Samson was awesome.
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Gabriel
Beta Werewolf
Bella's Pack
Tell me what you feel, now you're here.
Posts: 64
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Post by Gabriel on Jan 18, 2009 3:16:45 GMT
Friction. That word definitely applied to the pack right now. Friction, tension, discomfort. They all worked equally well, under the circumstances. If one was going to see the pack as a machine, then it was definitely one in dire need of repair. There was very little about the pack that was functional, right now; true, the fighters could operate under the expert leadership of Neal and Isabella, but a pack was not supposed to be governed by the senior fighters among them. That was not how it was done, how it worked. What they needed was leadership, guidance. They didn’t have that, and if they were a machine, then that made them ‘broken’.
“I see.” Gabriel smiled as he spoke, nodding his head. Yes, some of the things Samson said, even the way he said them, was lost on the Argentinean sometimes, but that didn’t mean he would just give up on his attempts to socialise with the Greek male. That would hardly be fair, and as he had already surmised, a little harmless fun certainly wouldn’t do him any harm. “I’m sure they would sense your anger, and quickly rectify their mistakes.”
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Samson
Pack Werewolf
Deceased
Yeah I've got the best intentions, for a little bit of anarchy but not the hurting kind
Posts: 93
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Post by Samson on Jan 18, 2009 4:31:36 GMT
Maybe they needed a mechanic then, someone to fix the machine and make it go ‘choo choo’ like it was supposed. A werewolf machine probably went ‘growl growl’ or ‘roar roar’ now he thought about it, who ever heard of a wolf pretended to be a steam train? “They better, otherwise I would have to use my powers for evil and set someone on them to make them really fix their mistakes.” Not that he would; cleaning up after something like that would be far too messy. A sound from above the two caught his attention, the rapidly shifting mind set already leaping on past poorly made Japanese novelty toys, aside from the last thought that he needed to buy Gabriel an Autobot, maybe Optimus himself, he seemed like a ‘Prime’ kind of guy.
“Calista!” Samson exclaimed joyfully, already bright grin growing ever stronger at the sight of the other pack wolf. He wouldn’t say he had favourite friends within the pack; just minions he could boss about and people he was constantly attempting to turn towards the dark side and join either his army or his harem. But there was something about Calista that reminded him almost painfully of home. A good kind of pain, if any sort of pain could be considered good, a strange tightening of the chest along with memories that were otherwise forgotten. It was good thing too, because those thoughts and images shouldn’t be forgotten, even if not all of them were good.
He shook his head a little, shaking the almost serious thread his thoughts had drifted down, dropping down to one knee, arms outstretched as he faced Calista still leaning out of her windowsill and then quite simply, without any warning, Samson launched into a Greek serenade, his strong singing voice easily drifting upwards.
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Calista
Junior Member
Bella's Pack
Tell me are you free...
Posts: 55
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Post by Calista on Jan 18, 2009 4:43:52 GMT
Continued from: Calista's Bedroom
Well. That had been unexpected.
Which was saying something, because one should always be prepared when dealing with the likes of Samson. Nonetheless, it wasn't as though many people had ever dropped to one knee in order to sing to her, so Calista's flustered shock was probably more than justified. The female went somewhat wide-eyed and took a startled step back before the words that Samson were currently belted at her registered. She promptly turned a rather violent shade of pink, flushing from her scalp clean down to her neck until she decided maybe Samson should be stopped before the entire pack came to investigate.
Quickly, she dropped from her window, the clean linen of her slacks snapping smartly in the breeze when she landed in the grass of the courtyard. She was on Samson in two strides, clamping a hand over his mouth.
"Hello Samson," she greeted him, then lifted her eyes to Gabriel. She blushed darker. "Gabriel."
Maybe she should have stayed put...
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Gabriel
Beta Werewolf
Bella's Pack
Tell me what you feel, now you're here.
Posts: 64
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Post by Gabriel on Jan 18, 2009 5:14:35 GMT
Somehow, coming from Samson, a serenade just wasn’t at all strange. Had it been anyone else, Gabriel might have blinked in surprise and thought ‘how odd’ to himself, or something very much along those lines. But with the Greek male, it just seemed natural. It fit. Bizarre, really, that such outlandish things could seem so normal with certain individuals, but that was simply the way of the world. Gabriel was not about to overanalyse, especially given just how harmless it was.
Gabriel’s pale eyes followed the Greek female’s graceful, pristine descent from her window, and he was quick with a soft, respectful smile and nod of his head when she said his name. “Calista,” he greeted. “It’s nice to see you.” And it was. The fighter wasn’t the sort to exaggerate or bend the truth even at the most desperate of times, a wolf who operated on facts and clean lines of truth and reason, and so, it was easy for him to greet Calista as he had, because he meant every word of it, simple though it was.
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Calista
Junior Member
Bella's Pack
Tell me are you free...
Posts: 55
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Post by Calista on Jan 18, 2009 5:23:32 GMT
The female chuckled and forced back her blush. "It's nice to see you, too," she murmured as she dropped her hand from Samson's mouth. Like Gabriel, Calista was not about being insincere; she was happy to see Gabriel and so she told him so. She was usually happy to see the fighter, anyway, so there was no harm in saying so.
So, Gabriel received a subtle, but warm smile before she returned her attention to Samson. "Not that I don't appreciate your singing, Samson," she assured him. "You simply caught me off guard."
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Samson
Pack Werewolf
Deceased
Yeah I've got the best intentions, for a little bit of anarchy but not the hurting kind
Posts: 93
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Post by Samson on Jan 21, 2009 19:26:14 GMT
It wasn’t a bad song – Samson had toyed for a split second about singing something like ‘Mandy’ to her, only in Greek, before settling on a traditional tune. And it wasn’t as though he was singing it as loud as he could, just… loud enough so he could be sure that Calista, way up on high, would be able to hear every perfect note. Then all of a sudden she wasn’t on high anymore but flying through the air, an elegant figure in white. Her moving hadn’t stopped the serenade, even though Samson knew that any moment; yes, there it was, a hand over his mouth and he sung two more words, letting them be muffled against the ‘gag’ before falling silent.
There was even a hint of patience in his pose while Calista and Gabriel greeted each other, the non-fighter just waiting until after what felt like hours but was probably mere seconds the hand was removed. Freedom! Freedom once more! Samson sprung back up onto two feet, cheerful grin on his face once more.
“That’s cool, that’s cool, everyone knows a real artist is never truly appreciated or expected in their own lifetime.” He leaned back, arching his body and easily balancing himself on one hand, legs straight up in the air, the hand holding the sword jabbing out at air.
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