Don't my steal characters,their mates and offsprings unless willing to plot.
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Dark Royal
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Post by The Quiet One on Jun 10, 2024 9:48:45 GMT -7
BELIAL Come Feed The Beast
Under the cover of darkness the beast made his escape. How long he had been kept captive he knew not, only that it had been too long for his liking. There had been little that could have been done about it, however, and it would seem he wasn’t deemed worthy enough for a rescue either. So the beast had bided his time and seized the opportunity as soon as it presented itself. Under the cover of the shadows he had managed to jump the lone female guard. There had been a scuffle, but the beast had been able to overpower her before taking off eager to navigate his way out of the territory that had kept him captive. As soon as he was free from it he had bolted, large strides breaking into a flat out gallop in a bid to put as much distance behind him as quickly as possible. For all he knew his captors would pursue him once they realised he had disappeared, after all. Once a safe distance, he allows his pace to drop slightly knowing that a flat out sprint is not sustainable. There is too much distance to cover, and yet the beast could not afford to dawdle too much. Even if no rescue party had been sent, his absence would not have gone unnoticed.
A lesser man might be terrified by the prospect that awaited him upon his return. The beast, however, was not. As the hours trickled by the beast made steady progress, his tracking skills allowing him to find his way across the expanse of terrain that lay before him. The first tendrils of light are stretching from the horizon when The Howling Keep materialises in the distance. The sight of it has the beast picking up his pace once more, for his throat burned and his legs were weary enough that rest would be welcomed. Once he has presented himself to Thomasin of course. The remaining distance does not take long to cover, the beast immediately slowing down as soon as he hits the first line of trees. As he picks his way further past the borders at a lazy walk, sides heaving slightly as he catches his breath, the beast is quick to notice something is amiss. Perhaps it was the stale scent of the King. perhaps it was the new scents that the beast did not recognise, or that of a femme that sparked some recognition. Regardless, something had the his gut turning uneasily. It is a feeling that is only reinforced as the the beast passes some of the guards.
Still, the beast presses on knowing full well that he could be walking into his demise. Thomasin’s scent is easy to pick up and once the beast has it he allows his direction of travel to change. By the time the Dark Queen comes into view the beast has largely regained his breath, the blood adorning his muzzle and bodice long dried. Coming to a standstill the beast allows his crown to sink, miss matched orbs lowering to the ground as his kissers part. "My Queen." It will not go amiss that the beast is being far more respectful in his greeting them he has before, even if the velvety tones still aren’t fully subservient. They are neutral, however, laced with a weariness born from his long journey and lacking the usual air of confidence. The beast says nothing more knowing that in this uncertain situation it is best to allow himself to be interrogated and answer as best as he can.
"He Speaks"
Words: 595 OOC: Sorry for the rough starter I'm rusty but should get better! He has some scraps fro where he got into a fight with mariposa who was guarding him when he made his escape A z z y
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Eat the Rude
live deliciously 🐐
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she/her
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4,257 posts
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points
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Underworld Lead
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Post by A z z y on Jun 11, 2024 1:02:43 GMT -7
The hag rolled from one side to the other upon her bed of piled pelts, her golden eyes flashing through the slits of her eyelids as she continued her endeavour for sleep. Just a moment's rest, a pause from this waking nightmare. The Surgeon, Black Phillip, Jaime, Cersei and now… now Selven. Everything she had dared to love, taken from her. Her mother was right - they would come for what she loved if they did not come for her directly. They would chip away at her resolve, they would take strips from her strength until there was nothing left but hatred. She had sent her finest to hunt the King down, Damocles at the helm of the search party with her most trusted close behind. Alas, their search had been in vein. There had been signs of a struggle, the blood that smeared the ground was evident enough, but no cadaver remained. The trail faded out and no matter how long they searched, nothing revealed itself. Either her King had been slain, enslaved or he did not wish to be found - if the latter was true, God help the monochrome bastard should he ever return. With a groan, the witch queen roused, her limbs uncurling beneath her to force herself from the floor. With a vigorous shake, she set her jaw, her gaze ironclad as she glowered at the door, hoping, willing he would just appear before her…
But he didn't. Her features did not reflect the disappointment that brewed within her, and as Marduk descended from his perch upon the exposed beams to take purchase upon her shoulders, the dark regent moved through the ravenous doorway and into the silence of the shadowed halls. The wind whistled through the cracks of the citadel, the haunted wailing of ghosts passing through the relic would have been enough to rattle some of the sturdier beasts, had they not known better. Thomasin steeled herself, ignoring the thoughts that threatened to consume her, that threatened to weaken her, she pushed on through the Keep until the large oak doors and portcullis came into view. Her stride lengthened, muscles and tendons gliding beneath her polished inky and snow capped hide as she pushed through into the light of dawn. The lands were doused in a soft, golden glow, the majority of her subjects either asleep or on patrol, allowing her the solace she so craved. Solace that like a narcotic, was addictive yet entirely detrimental to her wellbeing, if she were to be honest with herself. She moved down the slope that the castle sat upon, her haunches braced below her until the incline relented and she was upon the flats of the land. Moving into the breeze, the hag aimed for the darkness of the woodland, seeking the well worn track that weaved into the treeline, leading to the waterfall within the woodland.
So deep in her musing, with the wind at her face, she had not noticed the approach of Belial. If it weren't for Marduk's deafening screech, she perhaps would have continued on, but the rallying war cry of the corvid had her halting immediately, spinning in place to view the reason for such a cacophonous cry from her companion. Thomasin did not expect to see him - she had written him off as a deserter or dead, the notion that he would be held captive by someone had not crossed her mind if she were to be truthful. Whether or not that was because she found him so insufferable that she doubted anyone would want to enslave him or simply because he was so certain of his own abilities that he wouldn't allow such a situation to unfold, remained to be seen. Her jaw clenched, her lobes twisted back against her poll but did not sink entirely, as her gilded optics scoured his frame diligently, noticing the injuries and dried claret upon his bodice. His condition was not anywhere near as good as it once had been, fresh scars marred his hide - where had he been? As she studied him, that old unease rose within her, the voice of her sire, the voice of Black Phillip, of Marduk, hissed within her grey matter. What a coincidence, it spoke like a snake in her ear, Your king disappears, the throne beside you empty, and he returns now, covered in blood…
Mentally, she shook herself, but physically she remained stoic, calm, the fire in her eyes ablaze as her heart hammered in her chest. Was she truly meant to lose all that mattered to her, only to be left with him? He who could not stand her, he who did not respect her, he who could not follow her commands… My Queen. He addressed her for once with tones that could almost be considered respectful, his crown held low, so low it could almost be mistaken for submission. Thomasin and her crow closed the distance warily from where she stood until she was but a metre or so, touching distance if she could bring herself to. Where have you been? She queried simply, her words absent of rage or condescension, void of emotion for she felt none. How long had it been since they had endured one another's company? She had borne another set of twins since then, and her first two were still at large… her physique was immaculate, bar the newly accrued scars and war wounds, she was in peak physical fitness. He on the other hand… with a flick of her obsidian cords against her fetlocks, she fell silent, ready for whatever tale he would tell.
TAGGED - The Quiet One WORDS - 941 MUSE - good NOTES - this should be interesting...Speech
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Don't my steal characters,their mates and offsprings unless willing to plot.
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Dark Royal
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Post by The Quiet One on Jun 21, 2024 6:38:37 GMT -7
BELIAL Come Feed The Beast
Thomasin’s feathered companion is quick to notice the beast approaching. From its mouth comes a defeating screech, one that has harks twitching in mild irritation even as it alerts the Dark Queen to his presence. Her frame spins to face the beast just splits seconds before his crown is dipping. The beast can feel the weight of her gaze upon his pelt, the methodical sweep of her orbs across his pelt causing an itching sensation. The beast is not oblivious to the fact that his condition has deteriorated since he last saw the Dark queen. Yet the beast is not ashamed of the fact, for her opinion holds little weight. With time he would be back to his full strength. Even as the Dark Queen draws closer, the beast remains unmoving his sides rising and falling rhythmically as he waits for her to make her move. Would she strike him down? Perhaps. The beast would take it with grace if it came to it, for she would be in her right given his sudden disappearance. Especially given their relationship had not been the best prior. It had certainly been bad enough that she might have considered the beast to have simply been a traitor during his absence.
When the obsidian and ivory femme finally comes to a standstill it i smooch closer to the beast then he is perhaps expecting. Within touching distance in fact. It has his muscles tensing slightly, his body bracing for whatever blow is to follow. There is none. Instead Thomasin allows her kissers to part and an almost eerily calm query follows. "Where have you been?" There’s none of the expected rage in her voice, no hints of condensation or ill feeling. There’s only a tangible void in the tones she has uttered. It has the beast momentarily short circuiting, his consciousness thrown by the lack of expected reaction. It only fuels the earlier unease experienced. With a mental shake, the beast dismisses it his attention returning once more to the words spoken. "Captive. The distaste is evident in his velvety tones, the word practically spat out. The cave complex he had been stuck in had been been maddening for the beast for with enough time it had drawn forth unpleasant memories from the depths of his subconscious. Memories that the beast had spent years burying. Unbidden a shake rolls through his frame, the bones in his tail clicking together as the full body movement disturbs his ribbons.
Perhaps it was a bid to rid himself of the growing sense of discomfort. Regardless, once the motion has ceased the beast allows his kissers to part once more. "I do not recall how. I know only that awoke in a cave complex to be greeted by a stallion who called himself Sanctio moments later. According to him, I was being kept in a place named Desolate Earth. The beast takes a moment to pause, to breathe, the lowered velvety tones fading away as he tries to wrack his brains for anything else of use. Anything else that would satisfy the Dark Queen. "I managed to ambush a lone guard and escape before the alarm could be raised. Whether they sent anyone after me I do not know, as I didn’t have anyone on my tail during my return. Wherever I was, it was close enough for me to scent the ocean once I had broken free from the confines of its forest." The beast had no idea if it would be enough for her. He had no idea if she would deem him as still having a place within her domain, for she could easily be past the point of no return with him. His absence may not have been of his own accord, but the femme had long considered the beast to be a disappointment. Perhaps this would be her final straw.
All the beast could do was wait and see, his crown still in the lowered position it had been since coming to a standstill.
"He Speaks"
Words: 650+ OOC: A z z y
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Eat the Rude
live deliciously 🐐
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4,257 posts
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Underworld Lead
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Post by A z z y on Jul 19, 2024 0:55:17 GMT -7
Did she trust this sudden emergence? Like a ghost he haunted her, both physically and in thought - not because she actively allowed her mind to wander to him, but their relationship, for lack of a better word, had caused her much strife. So when he had seemingly vanished, haunting her no longer, she allowed him to be free from her reverie, whether by choice or out of necessity. To see him before her now, battered and beaten, almost submissive before her was quite the contrast to the usual fire and ice interaction they usually endured. Captive. Came the one worded response to her query, a brow arching then over a single golden orb. It was as if the word itself caused him discomfort, for he quickly shook his being, freeing it of tension that seemed to rise within him. The eerie melody of the bones within his tendrils sounded around them, yet it did not distract the regent, her inky towers twisted forwards to face him, her gaze never leaving his features. She scoured his facade for deception, for indications he was trying to pull the wool over her eyes, but on this occasion, she could see none.
"I do not recall how. I know only that awoke in a cave complex to be greeted by a stallion who called himself Sanctio moments later. According to him, I was being kept in a place named Desolate Earth.” Instantly, as if a ice water had been tipped over her being, she stiffened, her once almost soft features hardening, her brow furrowing as her enamels bore down upon each other. Sanctio. Desolate Earth. She had met the mahogany brute once within the vines of Nomalanga, their encounter civil, from what she could recall. But he had not mentioned Desolate Earth, he had not mentioned he had inherited the land from Under Oath. So despite the grey bastard being no longer at the helm, those he had trained, cared for, were continuing his cycle of abuse. Thomasin inhaled deeply, her ribs flexing beneath her bluish hide, those molten orbs ablaze with ire once more. "I managed to ambush a lone guard and escape before the alarm could be raised. Whether they sent anyone after me I do not know, as I didn’t have anyone on my tail during my return. Wherever I was, it was close enough for me to scent the ocean once I had broken free from the confines of its forest.” Thomasin allowed a dangerous smile to curl her lips, her gaze twinkling with mischief. Let us hope they did send someone after you… she trailed off, the insinuation of her plans trickling into the syllables.
A smirk cut into her lips, silently deciding on the retribution she would deliver to these bastards. She cast her halcyon runes over the harlequin stag, her scrutiny lingering on the deeper wounds dotted along him. Come, let us find something to help those wounds, she turned her slender physique, the lengths of her obsidian tendrils dragging along the turf as she moved to face the woodland once more. Thomasin did not wait for his objections, she did not wait for any snark or sarcasm, she did not care to engage with him in such a way this dawn. It was, on this occasion, in his best interest to follow her this time. As the two moved through the woodland, towards the river that cut through the forest, she flicked a tower towards him, her mind churning over the information he had delivered. Marduk remained perched upon her withers, warily eyeing the chimeric bastard with his ruby red eyes. Apart from Sanctio, did you manage to get any other names? She queried him easily, genuinely curious about his time behind enemy lines, a quiet hope that maybe, just maybe, the names of her babes had been uttered, or better yet, their faces seen, their voices heard..
TAGGED - The Quiet One WORDS - 652 MUSE - good NOTES - Speech
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