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Offline Zasha

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nocturnal me [acceptance?]
« on: May 31, 2017, 09:19:38 PM »
God, he had must have been traveling for weeks, hardly stopping to sleep as he retraced his steps, trying desperately to pick up any remainders of Atlas's scent, but it had been so long. Far too long, he was a effing fool to have just let her wander out of sight for so long. A effing fool to have let himself get injured and lax within Gemini's walls. He was a parent that had two obligations to his children, love them and don't ever let them get hurt. Zasha feared he failed on both accounts, he had always left his children roam. He always gave them that freedom, cause he knew they'd come back and be okay, but... some weren't coming back. Some weren't okay. He couldn't pretend he was okay with that anymore.

But he wandered on, tongue lollying from his mouth, drooling as he went. The air felt more humid than it had before, the trees denser and closer together, and for a moment he paused and glanced about. Was this? Had he? Gone back to Saboro? He listened for the familiar cry of an exotic bird or a monkey screeching high up, but he could still see the sky. Dark and gray, threatening rain. No, this was no Saboro, but he had been here before, but when? A tilt of his head and he'd sniff at a large moss patch that had grown up against a rock, odd, but he kept moving forward. The old bones of some animal, a lion? Perhaps, discard from a time long ago, a war long since passed, nature had reclaimed them and moss had overgrown on them.

Soon he would have to stop though, a large trench that seemed to just keep going on from either side, and below was water. The ravine? He felt his chest seize up, no no. He was certain that he went around Saboro, was he just walking in circles? IT TOOK HIM WEEKS. This place didn't look the same, this ravine was smaller... yeah.. That's when his eye spotted it, the small glowing lights, like Shroxx's candles. Illuminating what appeared to be a bridge. He was taken back to that night, when the air was thick with ash and smoke, cause and screaming. The world shook, BOOM, BOOM, BOOM. Thunderously loud noises, Sappara yelling and Atlas shoving him. There was a fallen tree, don't look back.

He wheezed softly, his legs shaking as drool cascaded from his mouth in a slimy pool at his feet. "Aaatlaaas." He wheezed softly, lowering himself to the ground, his body shook or was that the earth? Perhaps he shouldn't have left Gemini after all, it was a crawl, one made out of fear as he pressed his paws against the bark of the logs. "Aaaaaaaaatlaaaaas." Mustn't be too loud, there was slight hesitation, these lights had to have meant something. Zasha felt he wasn't alone. A click of his teeth in annoyance, but he couldn't cry out to her. eff.

Please, I want to know you're alright.



The man who taught me to swim, he couldn’t quite say my first name
Like a father he led community water on my head
And he called me “Subaru”
And now I want to be near you

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[12:14:27 AM] Frost: zasha, charging
towards sappara: i am looking into the
face of oblivion.....
and it is not welcoming
played by: waka

Offline Azuhel

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Re: nocturnal me [acceptance?]
« Reply #1 on: June 01, 2017, 02:53:50 PM »
Things were moving quickly, escalated by a underlying sense of terror and madness. It crawled along her pelt, whispering sweetly and wishing to infect, but she kept it back. She was soothed by the moisture of the fog and eased by the sedated thud of her heart in her chest, knowing, counting the days, until she was free to act in all manner of hellfire and brimstone. So, the quake did little to disrupt her, despite the minor annoying it provided. They had far greater things to worry about than cracking earth and tumbling rumble.

Like the growing need for flesh and chaos. Like the filthy that wriggled like parasitic worms beyond their mewling empire.

It would take some time to bring them to heel, those caustic yowling heathens, but she had faith and ambition—a dangerous mixture, for any predator to hold. But more than that, she had patience. A rare virtue, but one that kept her collection growing and the ache in her belly caged.

She snapped her jaws, flinging salvia off slick teeth—soon. Soon, soon, SoOn, sOon

Then a sound, one able to disrupt the mantra and settle the whirling tempest of anticipation and phantom wailing. She tilted her head, ear set to twitch as she heard past the cries of the death that haunted her mentality. The babbling bubbling moat greeted her, naturally, but more than that… there was another voice.

aaaatlaaas, aaaatlass…

She sucked in a breath and felt her body still, wrought tight as muscles twitched and digits curled. That wheezing tone stirred something in her, pushed past the heat, the hunger, the numb and pulled, pulled, pulled—

Searching, desperately, for love beyond the possession. Searching, desperately, for clarity beyond the madness.

She rose, jerked to her feet like a puppet on strings and with a swinging head she moved forward, her pace swift, but her steps heavy with purpose. This was her world, her toy, her parchment to claw and ruin. She need not be sneaky here, within her estate, where her blood ran wild and her values corrupted.

Besides, she didn’t want to miss it, this apparition, this ghost that made her grieve.

She came upon him, saw him there, crawling—was it the earth that was trembling or her weak knees? Was the world twisting in shapes, swirling away from her, or was that her blurred vision?

One breath, then another.

One step, then another.

He touched the wood and she flew, a wild instinctual force that rushed down the wooden bridge without giving a damn about it’s overall integrity.

She was a ruthless force, all jolly sadism and complex perversions—that’s what they thought her, didn’t they? Some killer? A beast stuck with ambition atop her gold and bones? But there was more to her than just propriety and teeth. There was more than just the hunger that made her blood pump and her heart beat. More to her blood than dragon eyes and fanatical aggression—

More, need. More, more more…

More times that she’d laid in her cathedral, staring at walls, listening to the ghosts of her past and pushing past the heavy strangulation of loneliness.

More times when she’d nearly fallen to possessive rage, when the urge to sink her teeth into something soft and tear—and tear, and tear, and tear—until she could get what she wanted back.

So she screamed at him---unaware that he might be startled or terrified by the bulk of her being as she rushed to leap upon him, snapping teeth and heavy dry sobs—signs of the crazed, signs of the desperate

Signs of someone who loved to fiercely.

And if she managed to grab onto anything with her flailing limbs she’d cling like some lost child—like the young adult she’d been when she’d waited for Dark, like the adult she’d been when she’d let Crow go, and like the lost little sister she’d shed when she saw Arith fade away.

And she’d whisper, into his flesh—“Mr. Z!

Because… he came back.



Offline Maera

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Re: nocturnal me [acceptance?]
« Reply #2 on: June 01, 2017, 10:01:39 PM »
There is a desperate pull to the border now, she hears the voice within the moat drawing her close, she hears what she knows keeps her mother there: silence. It's stunning, to sit and admire the handiwork of Serf and Nature, she has grown to like the jagged rock below and the rushing of water when it rains. Ah, she could see exactly why Atlas loved it.

But there is a figure now, she watches him draw closer. He's a funny thing, the way he walks, the way she sees his mouth open but cannot hear him yet. Could he see her, sitting pretty across the death trap? Could she, perhaps, lure him into it? How many could she cause to careen to their death as they aimed to plow into her, but never saw the ravine? Night would be perfect for her as a guard.

They would see her vibrant white pelt, her icy blue eyes, and they would sweep towards her, like this poor fool who lumbered closer and closer.. and yet, did not take notice of her, at all.

Maera begins to fume, eyes narrow, she wants to bark at him, to howl, 'NOTICE ME!' she feels it burning in her throat, 'LOOK OVER HERE', but he does not. He makes a noise, something that causes pinpricks all along her skin, and she finds herself stepping closer to the edge of the moat to listen.

'-laaas,' she contorts her face in utter confusion, baring fang. What is this old, demented fool saying? But he moves closer again, he is at the log, illuminated by the glorious light of her blood's fire, and she sees no one around. No Aspen, no Cuff, no Father, no- 'Aaaaaaaaatlaaaaas.'

Maera feels her blood freeze, she sees this wolf- not so long after some mongrels from Saboro have come- and she hears him utter her mother's name, and she knows.. she knows he cannot be good. They are coming for her, aren't they? They're coming to take away that monstrous matriarch she aspired to surpass and make proud, and how stupid she felt for being so bitter.

But deep in her thoughts meant there was no action, she stood in awe as he crept closer to her home and she could do nothing. She is a CHILD, and she feels a hatred flow for her age and her lack of ability, but she rushes forward to stop him, to stop a stranger so much larger and so much older, but is stopped by a flash of red scale. She's stopped by a power she can't compare to, her fur bristles and her lips curl.

There was someone watching the entire time, and here.. she thought.. she was alone, that she could take on.. what.. exactly? There are no growls, no snarls, no vicious yells for mercy, only a lover's embrace she was still too young to understand.

"What.. is this?" Maera asks, skeptic of what she's seeing, loud and intrusive to a reunion that should've been left private, but there are eyes everywhere, aren't there? Her eyes had narrowed, but realizing who she was speaking to forced them wide in fear, bright white ears lay back as she begins to cower away from what she suspects will be a Dragon's Flame. "Wh-why does he say mama's name? Why does he.. why does he look like Uncle Kiefer?"- who her mother doted on the moment he arrived, and it sickened her. she hides her accusation behind the facade of a child's curiosity, tail tucked between legs. "Why does he.. look like Skunk?" the disgust for her older sibling is now more evident, a sneer laced on her face.

Who the eff is this dude? And why is Grandma so pathetic around him?

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Offline Zasha

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Re: nocturnal me [acceptance?]
« Reply #3 on: June 02, 2017, 02:58:23 AM »
A drumming of paws, and his breath hitched and he began to stand a little straighter, his first thought was Atlas, his vision was blurry and unfocused. The scream, a widows wail, a banshee cry. He rose for her to only meet him against his chest and for the both of them to fall over. "UUF!" He muffled a noise, shifting about to gain his wits. That lone eye of his finally focusing, finally seeing what held him and breathed and shook against him. Red. The fear that made his face tense, washed away slowly, tattered ears perking as she breathed his name. He was certain he would've been met with teeth and claws, but she merely curled herself upon him.

His heart ached, he felt so guilty in that moment. A shaky paw raising to drag across her back and close the already limited distance between them. The Red woman from the forest, who spoke in tongues and candied words. Alteron, he hadn't known what the place was called only that it was to be occupied for a short time. They had met completely by coincidence, and she shared her bed with him. He loved her, and he was certain she too loved him back then, but now, it was so clear. The way she held onto him. He wasn't as pretty or as young as he was back then, his mindless babbling and feral ways were his charm then, but she remained as beautiful as the day he'd first seen her. This was a different love, different from Avery or Sol Katti, this was real and not fleeting. He could see it and feel it. "Red." He wheezed softly back to her.

A kiss to her forehead, and he'd offer a low whine of forgiveness. This was after all the woman who had given him Oktober and Atlas. The sweet babes he struggled so desperately to part with, and in the end he was only able to take one daughter with him. It must have been worse for her, she had lost a daughter that day, years she could never get back. It was funny how anything the Red Dragon claimed always had a knack of coming back to her, no matter how far it roamed. Rubbing his nose against her fur, she had changed so little since he had last seen her, it was a wonder. She was timeless.

He had come home, his mind wandered getting lost in the warmth of her embrace, ebbing off into a low buzz. He'd looked for a Tea Leaf and found the Dragon matriarch instead. He motioned his head to the side, he hadn't seen the child at first, his fringe covering his good eye and she had been on the side of his bad one. But he'd heard her small voice, and he whipped his head to the side, Azuhel still cradled in his forelegs. She was small, a little one, and at first he looked from her to Red with a raised brow as if to assume 'This one of yours?', had she moved on from him to start a new family? He couldn't blame her if that was the case, and he never would , but the child said, Wh-why does he say mama's name? Why does he.. why does he look like Uncle Kiefer? His blood went cold and his breath hitched.

Kiefer? He was alive? He was here? He didn't know a skunk, but she had made mention of her mother. "Kiefer... Atlas... here? Alive???!!" He cocked his head back to try to eye Azu, ears flopping to the side as he did so. It might have been a little jarring to the girl, as he stared intently back at her. Trying to make heads or tails of where her markings even came from. Atlas didn't look anything like that, perhaps the father? So she was here, she'd come home to her mother. "Zaaaaashaaaaaaaa." He wheezed, black lips pulling into a wide toothy grin. Say hello to Grandpa, little one.



The man who taught me to swim, he couldn’t quite say my first name
Like a father he led community water on my head
And he called me “Subaru”
And now I want to be near you

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[12:14:27 AM] Frost: zasha, charging
towards sappara: i am looking into the
face of oblivion.....
and it is not welcoming
played by: waka

Offline Azuhel

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Re: nocturnal me [acceptance?]
« Reply #4 on: June 02, 2017, 01:10:20 PM »
The warmth of another being, the scent of well-traveled fur, and his overall softness—no matter his physical state—were true signs that this was her Mr. Z. For a while she remained upon him, a piece of him, with breathing slow and steady despite the manic whirlwind of her thoughts and feelings. She felt slightly overwhelmed, alive in a manner that seemed inconceivable. It was different than the storm that generally consumed her, different than the passion that always festered and boiled away in her belly.

It wasn’t… unpleasant, despite its alien nature, and after a while of soft laughter against the side of Zasha’s neck she’d relax her desperate hold.

He was real.

So was the questioning child.

One breath, then another, and she stood to give Zasha some much needed space. Her muzzle was split in a wide grin, some dark perverse possession, some dizzying hunger that filled her limbs with a sense of wildness more familiar than the weak-kneed disbelief she’d felt earlier. He came back, maybe not specifically for her, but that could change—

That would change.

He belonged to her, after all, whether he was innately aware of it or not.

She licked her chops and turned slowly as Mr. Z introduced himself. Zasha.

Zasha….

With a twitch of her ear and a tilted head she spoke, her tone back to honey and suger, her cheeks dry of tears that never fell—Not sure about yer… Keef-her, but the youngin’ has seen ‘em. Atlas is ‘ere, alive ‘n well too, doin’ a good job. She’s got some little ones—

She wasn’t sure if Atlas was… happy. She wasn’t sure if it really mattered. Happiness seemed relative, a childlike emotion. She preferred something more wicked, content and full from power was equivalent enough to happiness and she’d always tried to provide those worthy of that. 

This is one of ‘em.

Now she turned to face the girl, to push the intensity of her gaze upon her, to grin with a mischievous sense of interest. How much had this child seen? Azuhel was not ashamed, emotions were a driving force to greatness, they fueled her being just as much as dry wood fueled her flames. Emptiness, numbness, constant hunger… one couldn’t live off such things alone.

Dis here be yer grandpa, ‘e is Atlas—yer mumma—father. Dats prob why Skunk looks like ‘em. She cast him a lingering glance, some intense look-over, as if to dictate his… worthiness, but she turned that gaze back to Maera, the storms within her dragon eyes losing none of their intensity.

Come on then, come on over ‘n say hi. She chuckled and rolled her shoulders, moving forward slowly in expectation of Zasha to follow while she kept her stare steady upon her grandchild. But, something isn’t all that right about her. About her smile, about that ‘friendly’ aura that clings to her pelt like a snapping whip—just waiting to lick at Maera’s pelt and scar her back.

Because, now they held a secret of sorts, one Azuhel would probably just… kill to keep.

And she had no qualms about doing so, did she?

Come ‘n give yer granny a kiss.


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Offline Maera

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Re: nocturnal me [acceptance?]
« Reply #5 on: June 02, 2017, 09:45:51 PM »
The male is a mess, a hot sloppy mess that causes the little girl to lift a paw in disgust, tucked just against her proper chest while her eyes beam skepticism. 'Kiefer... Atlas... here? Alive???!!' Oh! No! The little girl squeaks, reaching up to cover her mouth as she realizes she spilled the beans. Her mother was going to be killed, wasn't she? Perhaps even her newfound Uncle? How WORRISOME........

'Zaaaaashaaaaaaaa'

"You're.. welcome?" Maera cocks her head, confused, but she assumes the male is simple-minded, much like her brother Ollie. That must be his way of saying thanks.. "Za..aaasha.." she replies, nodding her head before remembering there is someone else there.

Oh, but Grandmother, what big eyes you have.

Azuhel is there, she is watching, and all the while the little girl knows she is so very, very effed. Atlas' wrath was a child's tantrum compared to what she imagined the Allmother's to be, and so Maera shrinks back, trying to minimize her size and appearance, and perhaps disappear all together.

Oh, but Grandmother! What big ears you have.

Maera realizes there is no where to run, no where to hide that the matriarch could not follow and fetch and rend. Maera, at such a tender age, knows true fear as she feels the full force of Azuhel's gaze. She contemplates begging, pleading mercy, but that never worked with Atlas, who was relentless and struck harder the louder she cried. There is no way that her mother is unlike her grandmother, or that she didn't inherit some form of bloodlust.

'Dis here be yer grandpa, ‘e is Atlas—yer mumma—father. Dats prob why Skunk looks like ‘em.' And her perception shatters, leaving wide eyes full of all the more horror. This.. this thing is her blood? Her grandfather? Atlas' dad? She almost wants to cry out, call Azuhel a liar, but she holds her tongue and gulps. 'Come on then, come on over 'n say hi.'

NO, her gut rings out, her head defies her instinct and she shakes her head slightly, but enough to show her stance. No, no no no.. no.. Maera begins to take a step back, her skin begins to sizzle and itch, like she's being eaten alive, shivering. No, please!

'Come 'n give yer granny a kiss.'

But Grandmother! What big TEETH you have!
« Last Edit: June 02, 2017, 09:47:31 PM by Maera »

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Offline Zasha

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Re: nocturnal me [acceptance?]
« Reply #6 on: June 03, 2017, 11:40:15 AM »
She was a child who had grown as bold enough to stray form Mama's side, to challenge a Dragon and then await her wrath. He eye'd the little white and black girl with newfound wonder, she was brave. Just like her mother, constantly pushing the envelope, it made him smirk. Each of his children had always been one of a kind, all so different and wonderful. They flourished anywhere, even if they weren't necessarily happy about it, they made do. He was proud of them, as proud as any father ought to be when it concerned his kids. They never had to do anything special to amaze him, each of them were a bright light. He loved them, and would love them still. His love was unconditional, and so it remained.

Rolling to his side to stand, he looked from Red to the little girl, Atlas had children, more children. He couldn't help but think that maybe a certain Rice Boy was the cause of this, but he merely stared at his granddaughter with a bemused expression upon his weary face. But she seemed disgusted by that fact, that she was even related to him. Listen sweetheart, I know, I'm not much of a prize, but at least I think my kids love me. He mistook her look of horror for one of stunned excitement, and smiled with glee, tail thumping behind him. "Mooore babes! Sweet little babies!!!" He called shrilly, Azuhel would be happy to see that he still spoke in that same gleeful tone.

Of all the time he spent with Red, he knew how vicious the Dragon Queen was. Perhaps that's where their relationship bloomed from, back then he attacked anything that moved, with a fierceness that could only be taught. She was the same, but far worse. The two of them had been quite the pair, and as Azuhel stalked closer to Maera, Zasha watched as the child's face twisted. He had an idea of what was coming next, as much as he wanted to push it aside. Red was still Red, with that feral air about her that was never sated. He was sure she had killed a lil before, if not scarred them. He rose behind her, his steps tired but his pace was quick. This was his grandchild, their grandchild, he had the same obligation to Maera as he did to Atlas, or Kiefer, or Adrian, Juni, or Caustus. Protect. It was funny, it would seem his mother had named him right, Protector of Mankind.

As Maera took her cautious steps back, Zasha would skirt his way between the two, a stern but glaring look to the small girl with that lone red eye of his. A look he had given Juni numerous times for her callous outbursts, he was reminded of her then. "Reeeeed." His head whipped around and he was sweetly brushing his head under Azu's chin if she allowed, still acting as a living barricade between the two. He would need to divert her attention anything at all would suffice. "Zasha stay, Zasha stay here with Red. Home?" Through gentle love bites he spoke his words, and hopefully his granddaughter would've gotten the hint. The last thing he wanted was this reunion turning into a brawl.

His words actually weren't all that untrue, he did and would plan to stay. There was a reason to, there was many reasons to. But there was the fear of his old flame's  heart and how fickle or kind it was going to be to him this time around. They were older, and a lot more jaded to the idea of happy endings and any sort of fairy tale bullcrap. Happiness was relative to ones current surroundings, it wasn't something that could just happen. "Zasha will stay. Zasha is.." He urged.



The man who taught me to swim, he couldn’t quite say my first name
Like a father he led community water on my head
And he called me “Subaru”
And now I want to be near you

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Quote
[12:14:27 AM] Frost: zasha, charging
towards sappara: i am looking into the
face of oblivion.....
and it is not welcoming
played by: waka

Offline Azuhel

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Re: nocturnal me [acceptance?]
« Reply #7 on: June 08, 2017, 12:53:20 PM »
There’s a twitch of her tail and a pull of her muzzle when Maera doesn’t immediately approach. Is that fear in her stance? Defiance? Apprehension?

Was it poison? Poison swimming in her veins? Infecting her mentality? Ruining her? Spoiling her? Destroying Azuhel’s precious bloodline, her legacy, her mythos?

Her voice is curling, a low rumbling drip of curious buzzes and hunger, What’s that? Darlin’? You alright?

Because, because, because… who could refuse to call of their matriarch? Of their most precious Lady Red? Who could refuse the pull of her order? The danger in such a simplistic command?

What to do, what to do?

Other than close to distance with each carefully placed step, one foot before the other, while wild thoughts and howling cries--no momma, no, momma, no~--filled her mind with different scenarios and excuses.

But Zasha is there and his energy—his affection—is so… contagious than the twisting depths of her gaze lighten and the storms retreat. Alas, Maera is still a child with plenty of time to learn, with plenty of time to love her. And, yes, Azuhel believed she could make Maera love her. After all, it was proper for a grandchild to love their family, wasn’t it?

She huffs for a moment, unbothered by Zasha’s gentle nibbles and focused on his words. Oh yes, Zasha would stay here. Absolutely.

Of course, you were always welcome. Never mind the red glaring tattoos that cover his face, so ugly and yet she can’t fault him for having them. I want you to stay.

Forever and ever and ever.

This way. Her smile is genuine, at least and she’d step past the child to lead Zasha toward home.

Come along, Maera.

One mustn’t trust children on the boarder, least they happen to fall into the moat and drown.

A pity that would be, for certain.



At this point, Zasha is accepted. You can start rping in Alteron.


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