Author Topic: dance on your conscience until it's a corpse [PRP Oriana]  (Read 356 times)

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Offline Anika

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dance on your conscience until it's a corpse [PRP Oriana]
« on: March 26, 2016, 10:16:28 PM »
Somehow, in-between doling out indiscriminate acts of misfortune between its players, karma still had time to deal Anika another inconvenient hand. The sky cracked open and from that dripping gash came rain that poured in sheets. Battles raged on undeterred, tacticians adjusted their strategies to accommodate the change in weather, and lone soldiers like Anika were forced to adapt.

The downpour concealed all scent and sound even from Anika's trained senses, drowning out any perception of the world beyond the limited space before her eyes. The rain enveloped Anika like a haze of television static, the distant silhouettes of trees lost in the white noise. Squinting desperately through the dewdrops that trickled helter-skelter through her sight, she moved in search of sanctuary, keeping her posture hunched and inconspicuous. Mud was squelching underneath her paws. Anika found it a welcome change from the unclean feeling of treading on blood-soaked grounds.

Her first goal was to regroup at the infirmary, but with the sudden rain, that goal became impossible. New plan: find a place to dry off and regroup. As Anika's eyes alighted on the serendipitous presence of a willow tree standing firm against the storm, a thousand exclamation points ignited in her head. That solemn willow tree, its spine a dolorous, defeated bow, its feathery arms brushing the ground, became the enduring symbol of her salvation. Anika lunged for the willow's protective embrace, but came short of realizing its safety as she noticed that she was not the only one diving for shelter. Anika slammed her paws on the ground to stop her in her tracks. Through the silvered streams of rain, Anika made out a vaguely wolf-shaped blur in shades of red and yellow which, by now, were quite familiar to the malinois.

In an explosive, spiteful, furious way, Anika found herself getting angry. Not the kind of righteous indignation that fueled most soldiers - How dare these savages threaten our kingdom! - it was a petty, incredulous breed of anger. The kind of anger that someone feels after someone cuts them off on the highway, or takes their choice parking space. More than anything, she was angry at Oriana for the fact that she had blundered into her line of sight, and therefore predetermined what was going to happen. She was angry that there wasn't a chance in hell that Oriana would be reasonable, and perhaps agree to set aside grudges for the time being. Because quite frankly, as abhorrent as Anika found Saboro to be, and as comfortable as she was generalizing its citizenry as a collection of slobbering miscreants, she didn't particularly like butchering them, either.

What a pedestrian way for their fates to align. Nothing illustrated the poignancy of war like the emotional equivalent of two drunks fighting outside a bar.

"Get out of my way," Anika snarled. She didn't care if this was stupid, or that this was giving Oriana an opportunity to attack. Her warning didn't have anything to do with courtesy or mercy, not like what happened with Nero. It was because Anika's patience with this useless, miserable, bloody spectacle of a war had dwindled to nothing, and unlike most of these barbarians, she didn't derive any nationalistic satisfaction from bashing Saboran skulls into paste. If Oriana had any sense in her head, she'd realize the threat and turn the eff around.
« Last Edit: March 26, 2016, 10:27:04 PM by Sunblink »


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[1/30/2015 10:42:39 PM] Nugget Emily: "they say there's a ghost in the mountains who criticizes your sexual standards"

Offline Sunblink [Summer!]

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Re: dance on your conscience until it's a corpse [PRP Oriana]
« Reply #1 on: May 02, 2016, 12:10:27 PM »
bump

Offline Oriana.


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Re: dance on your conscience until it's a corpse [PRP Oriana]
« Reply #2 on: July 14, 2016, 04:39:54 PM »
ooc: ten years later ...........


ORIANA ✶  ,,
The rain become some sort of a relief to the Princess, a highly welcomed drenching that she could feel bleed through each strand of fur along her body. A sloppy lick across her face resulted in a gentle grumble of satisfaction as the war-torn golden girl continued to prowl through the battlefield looking for something to do. She'd seen those who cared deeply for, they were safe— either unwounded or on their way to recovery, and deep down that was the best the Watchdog could hope for. But it didn't mean it was enough solace to reel her reckless mentality back to something more pristine and regal; no, no. The blood, the beautiful rich and oozing crimson liquid was still ever much a trigger for the glass cannon princess. She wasn't the strongest, most skilled or even the most intimidating thing to fight, but perhaps the only thing that separated her war zone phase from the legendary fury was she still had a sliver of control in herself.

She could also certainly distinguish between friend and foe.

As the rain started to wash away at the tattered fur where teeth and claws ravished; her appearance became mottled with darkened pelt and bloodied streaks around her chest and muzzle. It was a shame knowing that the messy, clotting appearance was considered empowering and beautiful to the Saboran princess; and it was getting washed away all too easily. Oriana didn't take the time to shake off the weighty rain as it started to accumulate on her frame, instead she scouted her way toward a large tree; perhaps a good place to skulk behind and lunge at any unsuspecting grunt as they walked by. The tattooed girl would have to be mindful of the lacking scents; not that the determination of Saboran versus Inarian was made easy once in the thick of overcasting blood, rot and death the heart of the battle field gave. But she'd manage, Oriana had faith in herself to tell.

Achieving the chance to slide under the tree in favourable time the Princess readied her frame as she tried to scan her surroundings without the trouble of squinting through a flooded face. Tensing muscles tightened like a coiling spring, ears alerted and focused to determine every small snap and slosh from nearby movements. Unfortunately for her, she didn't inherit the most discreet pelt pattern out there, but at least with the thick lace of a steady rain fall, she could be somewhat less obvious. The Watchdog's lips were loose over her teeth, ready to bare and attack at a moment's notice; her deceiving level of calmness to another passerby could be shattered without warning. In the corner of her eye she'd noticed a smaller canine; nothing resembling a wolf but the hostility oozed off her character all the same. Oriana didn't expect anything less, swinging her head toward this stranger— she knew nothing of this dog's origins nor who they were loyal to, but the Princess knew enough to determine it wasn't Saboran.

"Get out of my way,"

Oriana's eyes narrowed, fiercely, as if to imply she wasn't going to do such a thing. Out of all the things to say in a situation such as this one, they decided to demand removal of their path? The Princess would've laughed if she weren't high on adrenaline, blood and a prideful sense of honour from being Saboran. Perhaps it was this opponents own haughty assertion that would be her downfall; the princess chose to hesitate and linger in a prepared stance just long enough to make the dog question her response— then with a shift of her body and a launch of her spring-like hind legs, her body powered forward. Mid-leap was when she allowed her lips to rip back and her ivory fangs to see freedom, taste the rain and any oncoming flesh they could latch on to. Oriana's muzzle thirsted for Anika's throat, neck or any exposed vital their need could be filled with. Even if the other bounced back or avoided, she'd continue to pursue with snapping jowls in hopes of sinking teeth into meat.

The Princess's old sense in this matter was to kill.


You go sleep with the fishes
There's no room for you here,
There's no room for you here
Wrap your teeth around the pavement
Cause your body's a message,
Send my regards to hell

Fall upon your knees,
Sing, "This is my body and soul here."
Crawl and beg, and plead,
Sing, "You've got the power and control."
Don't pin it all on me—

—DON'T PIN IT ALL ON ME


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Offline Anika

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Re: dance on your conscience until it's a corpse [PRP Oriana]
« Reply #3 on: March 14, 2017, 02:52:17 PM »
ooc: IT'S BEEN 84 YEARS............................................ :')



If Anika was aware of Oriana's status in Saboran society -- significance gleaned from the tattoos on her face, but the precise nature of her importance not elaborated -- then predictably, it wouldn't have mattered. Let this be a reminder to Oriana, and all of her ilk, that the world outside their vile jungle would not kowtow to their authority. What started off as a childish and petulant demand over shelter had transformed, in Anika's mind, into something greater. (Or maybe that was what she used to rationalize her dwindling patience.)

It was for both their benefit that Oriana's rebuttal was not formed from words, but rather violence. Good -- Anika would not suffer any senseless, cyclical debate from these cretins. Oriana came at her, incensed enough to forgo any niceties and aim for the jugular, but Anika wasn't stupid enough to wait with her throat exposed. She ducked to the right and rushed forward, raking her hide with her teeth.

Once the two women broke away, Anika whirled around to face her, meeting Oriana's approach, and sprang forward in a retaliation of her own -- not aiming for the throat but for the face, teeth hopefully clashing against her own, thrusting her paws against Oriana's chest.

It didn't matter that she was a princess.

It didn't matter that she would be a queen.

It didn't matter that she was bigger.

Nero was bigger. She had survived that.

Oriana was just another opponent to conquer - another effing invader to topple. And Anika had no problem force-feeding the royal the taste of dirt and defeat.



ooc:
- Anika rushes past Oriana and grazes her with her teeth, trying to scuff her up a little bit
- Once she makes it to the other side, she turns and goes for Oriana's face, assuming Oriana doesn't do some maneuvering beforehand
« Last Edit: March 14, 2017, 02:52:45 PM by Anika »


We'll keep fighting 'til the end
For a time that we've been taught to keep.

[ #E1A95F ] | played by Sunblink.
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[1/30/2015 10:42:39 PM] Nugget Emily: "they say there's a ghost in the mountains who criticizes your sexual standards"