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Posted 01-01-2018, 02:41 PM |
Rebel
Ryu
Rebel Wolf
Male, 3.75
Meso-fighter
35 in, 125 lbs
39 ep
© sea

he'd put up a monument here. the suns had blistered along the newly formed seams of his face. the downy ivory had been illuminated by the mist and the fire overhead. ( he still winces, when he's alone. ) hundreds of flowers, collected all over the tracts of doutaini, had withered into dust. the sticks he had carefully arranged still muster some form atop the rocks. but its majesty had disintegrated with his dwindling belief. his focus on such things is fleeting, winter-made paws dragging him away just as quickly as he'd found himself pulled to it.

moonlight corrodes his scales and drags away at his rocked jaws. head swings low between blades that are combat ready despite their rickety betrayals. hell follows the man, rests on his shoulders and carves its place across his scars. but the demons that console his darkness are unlike any the world has the right to see. the voices stay at bay, for they need no sway over the beast. teeth bare as he tastes the air. he stops, turning to behold the night.

R


Lyra


x



[ Reply ]






Posted 01-01-2018, 04:13 PM | This post was last modified: 01-01-2018, 04:13 PM by Lyra
Enigma ( Admin )
Lyra
Enigma Wolf
Female, 3.25
Meso-runner
30 in, 105 lbs
240 ep
© Ly
she drinks the midnight air like a sailor too long in the salt, putting as much distance as possible between herself and the cry of her babes in their cloying den. every moment of small stolen freedom treasured. she begins to feel herself again; or, at the least, she begins to learn the topography of what she has become.

so it's with some regret that she finds her solitude is shared. the shadow of another crosses her path, and her eyes alight upon the man with interest, recognition flaring in their mercurial depths. his scent is indistinguishable from the chaos in which she had first encountered it. the blood, the sickness, the misery--the ghost of it all floods her senses as she inhales, as sharp as if it were occurring once again before her eyes. "i know you." surprise pushes the statement from her lips before she can regret its obviousness. self-effacing, she turns her head askance, maw dropping with impetuous curiosity; "they said you were trouble." briar's warning rings in her ears, but briar's dead: and she's no longer haruko's dog.

the gem that collars her neck belongs to another, now, old loyalties discarded like yesterday's fashion. betrayal scores her young face, lingers in her scars and her shadowed eyes, misery shot through the beauty like veins on classic marble. she wears her melancholia as armor. testament to her endurance, what she was willing to sacrifice on the altar of ambition. (and hers is the ultimate ambition.) a little smirk tugs her lips as she looks at him, eyes tracing the contours of his scar. "looks like trouble found you." it's the crude gallows humor of soldiers, a barb without bite. she does not wonder what path has led him here, only what path he might take, now.


Ryu



[ Reply ]






Posted 01-01-2018, 05:48 PM |
Rebel
Ryu
Rebel Wolf
Male, 3.75
Meso-fighter
35 in, 125 lbs
39 ep
© sea

the darkness bleeds with her ivory and at first, he is but curious. the squint of cobalt scathing its way through the dusk is rewarded with stark recognition. he sits back, allows the rhythm to comprehend his dissolving presence. his recognition is only that of a flash, an instant where jaws came out of nowhere and had no right to his purchase. he wasn't ready to die that day, he made that clear enough as he reeled back from their stupidity. back then, there was something to live for. he snorts, a laugh that turns into a chuckle and won't stop. they said. they would have slaughtered him because he offended them. a cheeky grin encompasses those scarred lips. she obviously failed to notice his scar when she was aiming for his neck that day, by the way her eyes trace his edges. you helped ride my ass off the hill. he's readied just as quickly. it seems you found trouble just as well, he nods to her necklace, wild eyes flicking back to examine her remnants.

tell me, was it mercury's luscious thighs that lured you in, or was it ruellia's? his head tilts to the right, the underscore of moonlight refracting like coals across his broken skin. maybe both? he's a madman, chewed up and thrown at the wall until he's lost all sense of direction. or did you just get tired of tasting haruko? jabs, but there is a refined sense of want emanating from his relaxed stance. he wants to know whether she is just meat for the slaughter, or if she thinks beyond such constraints.

R


Lyra - this got a lil bit mature lol


x



[ Reply ]






Posted 01-01-2018, 07:21 PM |
Enigma ( Admin )
Lyra
Enigma Wolf
Female, 3.25
Meso-runner
30 in, 105 lbs
240 ep
© Ly
you helped ride my ass off the hill. a shoulder lifts in tacit agreement; she had served her commander. her loyalty to tyrus had been absolute, and his betrayal had shattered her golden ideals. (that she might be more than her foul origins. that she, too, might catch haruko's omnipotent eye.) and perhaps something more natural, less philosophical, underscoring it all--a schoolgirl's crush--but it is not something she has ever acknowledged, even in the confines of her own mind. should i have invited you to tea? whatever his intentions, he had been an intruder that day: and even at the height of her innocence, mercy had been a foreign concept.

"tasting." his provocations fail to arouse her anger (perhaps in part because she finds no shame in them--romance had, after all, led her first to wind's doorstep, lust first discovered in davida's elegant curves), but the word catches her interest. "but that's the trouble with gods, isn't it? they demand the soul but give so little in return--only a taste of their power." doling gifts where it suited their pleasure, and withholding affection at their own whim. petty creatures, so poisoned by aeons of unquestioning devotion that they believed their own myth. they were not infallible. she intended to prove the lie.

so she takes; but she will never again give her heart in return. the gems were a means to an end, and she would use them meanly, as haruko had used her. she blinks and the solemn expression dissipates into one of pleasant contempt. "i want more."

Ryu



[ Reply ]






Posted 01-13-2018, 01:17 PM |
Rebel
Ryu
Rebel Wolf
Male, 3.75
Meso-fighter
35 in, 125 lbs
39 ep
© sea

the whites of his teeth peer back in an eerie grin. he's a soldier caught to attention -- a dog struck by the bite of a squirrel. his head rolls to the side, unhinged flesh perpetually ready for the strike. a silly little thing it is, to want of the fruit of the poison tree so vehemently. his first internal reaction is one of cynicism -- what she wants is a hopeless war and he knows it. but there's a clicking in his mind that stalls such tyrannical pursuits; the deep and conceited want that lingers in his bones and once colored his vision red. he shares her want, in the twisted and unreformed haven it inhabits. beneath every stagnant hollow and etched ridge lies the horrible truth -- there was jealousy that day, jealousy for the flames he wielded. none of these things surface, however, not to the capacity that an enigma leech could assess. he simply turns the hourglass between his fingers, never letting the sand fully embrace one end.

how do you plan to attain it? he asks, as his soul visibly shifts. the inevitable nihilism is kept at bay by the toying thought of pure and unequivocal revolution. the gods seem to only be fond of giving out their full gifts to the whores at their disposal. his cheeky smile returns as he offers back, surely you are no whore. a generous offering from the beast, perhaps even a compliment. but his reservations remain sound as he implores her to explain her collar.

R


Lyra - MATURE


x



[ Reply ]






Posted 01-13-2018, 05:48 PM |
Enigma ( Admin )
Lyra
Enigma Wolf
Female, 3.25
Meso-runner
30 in, 105 lbs
240 ep
© Ly
Ryu language cw

the gods seem to only be fond of giving out their full gifts to the whores at their disposal...surely you are no whore. her expression twitches, the barest hint of a raised brow. "distinguish your principles from your prick." she hasn't encountered such wanton verbiage since vespasian, and what she'd found idly amusing in her youth only tires her now. the first question interests her more.

"a god is nothing without a church." her tone is contemplative but wary, every nerve attuned to his movements, the strange and feral cadence of his voice. kill the preachers. the gods did so love their pets; she had seen haruko weep for tyrus. (he had shed no such tears for her.) "they lavish us with trinkets in exchange for our attention; but it is, at its core, an exchange." and contracts were made to be negotiated. the rebels scorned magic entirely, but such a powerless existence held no appeal for lyra--after all, she'd seen how easily akako had laid waste to their ridge. their crude doctrine merely denied them the tools to fight back. and some part of her knows kurai is not like the others. the strangeness of his powers, the headaches that persist long after the violet glow has faded--the corruption she feels rushing with the adrenaline in her bloodstream. madness, they called it, but she wondered if it were not something more. a curse, rather than a blessing; a demon's kiss. better to reign in hell than to serve in heaven. she begins to conceive the edges of her philosophy, its topography forever altered by her experiences.



[ Reply ]






Posted 01-13-2018, 06:31 PM |
Rebel
Ryu
Rebel Wolf
Male, 3.75
Meso-fighter
35 in, 125 lbs
39 ep
© sea

a slip of the tongue, a cocky sneer which blemishes his sick face. he chuckles softly, allowing her explanation as she wades into the territory he had first rebuked. what begins as sparked intrigue fades quickly. perhaps she is indeed the whore to a faithful master; his expression relaxes again, muscles falling back to their previous ease. he contends with her carefully -- it is an interesting proposition, and she has a point, if only a fleeting desperation to hold it. he knows far better than the notion that gods could compromise or negotiate -- they will kiss her out of existence just as quickly as she'd wandered in. but he can't deny he would want to watch her small form face up to the faceless divine. he regards her differently now, not yet as the woken prey from its useless run, but as the formal madman, strayed too far to the edges. she is all too akin to murmura in so many ways -- why not dance the feat of a zero sum game?

he allows the silence to devour into her heart for some moments, allows the brutal touch of his cerulean gaze to penetrate every doctrine of the gospel she'd like to erect. his games come to an abrupt end as he noses forward. what could you offer that a god could not refuse? he asks, though disbelief paints his frame. she is an oddity, and he knows he will likely find her somewhere in the history books. but the skies will fall before the gods bend so easily to the will of a mortal. the hopelessness that plagues his being offers subtle sighs throughout his soul -- there's no use in burning down the church if another can be built just as quickly. perhaps she poses a better resistance: but he will not kid himself into believing a god capable of more, not until he can see for himself.

R


Lyra


x



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