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Post by [/li][li]ERON[/li][li] on May 17, 2009 21:31:13 GMT -5
Name: Fal, Ray, Kimi
Age: 17
Contact: aim; rave0917
IN CHARACTER
Name: Eron
Age: 159
Gender: XY
Breed: Timber
Pack: Light Lands
Alliance: Light
Sample Post:
Old Fal post. <3
Blood dotted the damp emerald stalks of the vegetation, staining their once immaculate ridges with the symbolic liquid of death. But who was dying? Really. What an age old question. Were we not all dying? Consuming ourselves in one emotion or another that would eventually lead to our demise? It was inevitable, the disintegration of reason, of our supposed realities, and who were we to stop them? To stand in the way of our fate? No one. Spots of nothing, blemishes on the wall of life. Once that little light we hold on to, the hope embedded in our souls is put out, then we hit a state of morbid depression, the decline of our livelihood. No one can save us, or so we think. Then…the first hell bringer surfaces. And he smiles, and you melt inside, and all the walls come tumbling down with the lightest touch of him. So you settle down, have a few kids and he disappears. Sure, it happens all the time, right? Wrong. It was not going to happen to me. No way. He loved me. I heard him say it. And his were the lips of god. My god, in any case. He smiled, and murmured words of endearment to me like a good lover, but when the time came…he was gone. Vanished like the cowardly one he was. Hah. Love. Right. I bore that boy’s kiddies, dealt with him, the kids and their issues, and he left me. Left me to do it all on my own. Can you say broken? Can you say shattered? I can. But I won’t. Not for his sake. So, I bottled the pain, the tears, the screams, the wails of injustice and went about my business. But was I “fixed”…umm…hell no. I died inside, and thus became a different creature entirely. First a vampire was toyed with, the state didn’t please me however, and I once more shifted…and am now a lycan. Was Raus the end of my misery? Sadly, no. Then came along some vampiric bastard by the name of Christopher Revine who claimed he’d had his share of pain as well. Fool threatened to rape me. Hah. Even Raus had never dared such an act. Anyway this Mr. Revine, thought himself a worthy opponent and though I proved him wrong time after time he proved charming. It took years, but I grew close to him. Closer than I’d grown to anyone in what seems like centuries. But he too saw fit to leave me. Since, I haven’t heard of him. And a lucky thing for him it is, though, I assume he is dead…or should be. Someone must have killed him. One can only hope, I fear. I would kill him myself, but then…I’ve attempted to kill an ex lover before, and failed miserably. So. Rather than risk that again, I’d kept my distance, simply blocking him from my field of thought.
Settled in a reticent vantage of repose, the specter-like form of my lupine semblance settled in a dignified position, the looming shadow positioned before me disclosing the monstrous frame of the wolven precedent. Appendages folded neatly over each other, dainty despite the great size of them. Ebony skull was placed methodically upon them, tapered aerial spines registering little of the audible collaborations as they knelt in their sheathes. Why bother attempting to find things? They found me well enough. Should I desire to peruse the forum I needn’t bother with them, my thought process was enough to comb the region. Sensory factors weren’t much help these days; at least…they weren’t as thorough as the mind waves. They were tuned well enough, and were at the peak of their efficiency, but why bother with them? Who dared attack me? Or even offend me? None. No one was that stupid. At least, I hope not. The lengthy train of raven was flicked several times in reflection, the interloping of another’s tracing on my mind a thing that never went unnoticed. A hollow snarl evacuated the confines of my shell, rising to loom as I began to maneuver amid the flora. Slipping amongst the brush as a ghost would through solid walls, not a sound reverberated from the constant foot falls I placed on the composition, not a crunch of the dead leaves, all was quiet. A deadly quiet. I hardly wandered at all these days, and when I did I was the only one aware of this migration (or so I thought). The haze shrouded my form in an opaque barricade, refusing to make my vagrancy a manifest affair. A creature of the night. Shattered innards wrenched as something untraceable began to form in the most profound alcoves of my musings, I halted my actions, brawn stiffening immediately as the initial formations of a snarl racked my figure, spines forming in tufted bristles that held position aloft in a ridge of visible loathing. Trembles began to spasm throughout the breadth of my phenotype, my jaws settling as I forced their subsidence. Orphi digressed, the aura of the most recent him overwhelming, chills coinciding with the sweltering liquid that boiled within my veins. A malevolent leer spread over the tapestry of my countenance, a lip rising as a snarl echoed before my zenith was lilted, the empire upright as a chorus of feral notes ravaged the compass. He had returned hmm? Woken from that eternal sleep? Oh yes. I was aware where our dear Christoper had hidden his filthy ass. And what’s this? Kalt was with him? Hah. That was his payment for the debt he owed me? Conversing with the creature I loathed most? No good deed goes unpunished the verse says, and it has proven itself once again. Fine. Let them have their little chat. Let them rot in hell. Both of them. Unreasonable you say? I think not. The day you’ve experienced the betrayal, the contempt, the misery I’ve been through, then we’ll talk, till then, you shut your fucking mouth.
Assuming the role of a wandering fixture once more, I pivoted turning from them, and swiftly appeasing the need to rid myself of them, and the memories they endowed me. Developing the eased stride of signature bounds, keeping the pace at a generous speed that would allow for the most distance traveled with the least amount of effort, after all, that was what I wanted, right? To be as far away from him as possible. So I wouldn’t hurt him…or he wouldn’t hurt me. Either way, he wouldn’t be around. He didn’t want me. That was the conclusion I’d come upon. I hadn’t been good enough. Though not exactly a kitten to be cuddled and dote upon, he had said he loved me. Fool that I was, I believed him, just as I’d believed Raus. Of course, that bastard had granted me three pitiful whelps, of which only one still survived, and she was an arrogant slut. Much like her father actually. Perhaps that’s why I loathe her so. Slater was the one I treasured, and he had attempted to murder Raus, though I didn’t let him at the time, it seems I would have been better of should I have. He had perished as well. Almost because of me. I’d attempt to cull the idiotic mongrel, but he’d fled, and I’d deemed him a coward since. And Skysong, the one who met her peril first. Hah. She disappeared. She was of course, the most devilish of the trio, and thus had been obliterated before her life could properly set its course. She was the lucky one, I believe. Often times, these days, I desire my own demise. But I can not give it, the passion of my soul can not squelch itself like a pitiful beast to be slaughtered. So I must endure. The anguish, the bitterness…and most prominently the rage, brought on by the ones in my life. Persuasions of darkness had been left untouched, and the souls I’d grown close to abandoned. One of these was the vampiric queen Arcelia, who suffered much like me, but had survived as well. She had grown distant over the years, and I was in no hurry to reunite. After all, she was perhaps as dramatic in her ways as my children were and are, so why invite the pain? Drama was a source of it, among other things, so why provoke the beast that rules me? Since I can remember it has been the sovereign element in my life, watching over me, looking down and leering. And I’d leered back. Why not? Bite the hand that feeds me, eggs me on, and slaps me in the face when I fall. It had struck me when Riel, the light wench had won the lupine title of royalty rather than I, of course, it had in fact been a popularity contest, rather than one dominated by fear as I might have preferred but still.
Halting once more, the arced ridge of my textile appendage flicking irritably whilst a sigh was borne through the ventilation to rise and spoil the fog about me. Lenses declared war upon the terrain about me, scathing the décor with disdain that gorged itself on the mangled heart beating steadfast in my effeminate thorax. The treacherous view bestowed my gaze wasn’t even implored with to grant some other façade of joy or bliss. The world was a heathen lord, bent on rupturing all well off beings, and thankfully I wasn’t one of them. The plague would pass me by for I was already rank with the sickness. Wonderful, absolutely positively wonderful. Slowly, I began to fluctuate, the image of my carcass wavering briefly until a human silhouette stood in my place. Ghostly, and delicate, I slipped into the folds of the foliage. Shrouded in the murk, not but a light ebony slip of lace to clothe the well sculpted figure of my exquisite mortal precedent, the cream silk of my skin lustrous in the lunar bulb’s watchful eye. Raven locks vaunted freely, light and feathered but typically long. Porcelain features were accentuated by the cool emerald spheres whose vision impaled the landscape as if it were prey, flecked with crescents of anthracite. This form of me was in fact, born of my anger. My contempt. My loathing. If you thought my lobo self was a formidable creature, dare I say you will quake in the shadow of this one. Though, in contrast to the once disheveled female of humanity, there is now an arrogant bitch. The tips of the extensive talons embellished with coal paint, and glossed, flawless tones of flesh fit the appendages, the muscles feminine despite their obvious strength. Raking them across flesh is rather erotic, but they’re razors sink past the shell…so they are classified as weaponry. A path splayed out before me, one I had tread hundreds of times, the archaic fascia of the manor I took residence in coming to view momentarily. Climbing the worn steps of stone, palms fastening on the French doors to swing them open, a hostile glare shutting them with a creak as I entered. The piano’s stately figure was beheld in the middle of the room, and I gave a light smirk before seating myself on the polished stool. Talons stroked the keys lightly, the black and white tinges distinct as a refurbished piece would be. A slow progression filled the quarters, my brows creasing the male’s presence of vitality continued to bombard my thoughts, the movements of my palms growing less and less until they’d diminished entirely. Dentals ground each other as a feral snarl slipped past the rosettes of my orifice, rising abruptly and sending the bench toppling. Quite calmly though, I righted it, before slipping past the instrumental plateau. Darkness cloaked my features, though had they been visible one might wince for the effeminate countenance had distorted into a sinister leer as I walked about the apparatus, a droning growl audible as digits produced a single match, struck over my wrist. The minimal flame was run along the edges of both the bench and the piano itself, the crackle of the flames licking at each other filling the room without ceremony. Sitting on the sofa, I observed in silence, lower limbs crossed neatly and my palms in my lap. Did I mention what an animal I’ve become?
Word Count: 2059
