+- Wolf RPG (https://wolf-rpg.com)
+-- Forum: In Character: Roleplaying (https://wolf-rpg.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=5)
+--- Forum: Archives (https://wolf-rpg.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=11)
+--- Thread: Wapun Meadow i. I can feel ghosts and ghouls wrap my head (/showthread.php?tid=28821)
i. I can feel ghosts and ghouls wrap my head - Nym - August 01, 2018
@Barracuda Your PMing is disabled but I tried to post this somewhere near his most recent threads and somewhere near where she might have entered Teekon
Once, when she was still held by the strange men to northwest - a rough band who spoke a guttural tongue she never quite picked up - they had locked the girl in a cave. She could not say how long she was trapped there in the dark; it could have been hours, days, years, eons. Voices had brushed her eardrums, soft as a kiss, in the dark - whispering in a dark lure she instinctively knew she should not be hearing. They had sought to break her in that cave, leaving her lissome frame backed into a corner with only the creatures that lurked in the shadows for company. Childishly, she had stiffened there - defiant - with her eyes squeezed shut with the hope that if she couldn't see them, they couldn't see her. She had felt presences, entities, on the borders of her space and she had felt fear.
"Fear is not shameful. Many men think so but this is not true. It is what you do with your fear that is most important. Cowardice is shameful but to face your fears face on? That is what Night Stalkers must do on a daily basis." Kizok's words had come to her then and she had locked the fear into a hard knot - storing it in the bottom of her belly. They had wanted her to crack but they had forgotten that Night Stalkers never quit.
The cave still found her at times, in her sleep she would feel only suffocating claustrophobia - she would hear again that strange language that had danced on the fringes of her grasp. She would wake more weary than before, feeling oddly numb to her surroundings. Birds were chirping as she woke, the sound of the stream trickled on merrily but to The Reaper it fell on muted ears. She paused at a turn in the stream, lapping up some of the cool water before treading through the shallows.
It was early yet, the tangle of trees at the southern edge of the meadow silhouetted black against the bruise-purple sky. A faint orange tinge could be seen at the very edge of the horizon, a sign that the sun's light would soon be cast on the clearing. The moon's light was nowhere to be seen though the last odd star or two flickered from above. The grass was damp with dew underfoot; having left behind the damp pile of leaves she nested in, she grew chilled in the early morning air despite her thick coat.
She had entered these lands by coincidence and thought of little other than survival; in truth the girl was still operating as a Nomad - it was her default.
She prowled to the southern edge of the meadow, taking up a spot beneath the coverage of the tree. There were prints in the dirt - antelope perhaps - and she had ideas of waiting to see if a herd passed through. It was the season for young and if they sought to graze the verdant meadow, the girl might have an easy breakfast. She licked her pale chops at the thought, settling in alertly and scoping the area with her molten gaze.
RE: i. I can feel ghosts and ghouls wrap my head - Barracuda - August 03, 2018
sorry this took so long!
The man in black also has nightmares. He has them both when he is awake and when he is asleep, though he does not know which is a worse kind of hell.
Tonight he dreams of @Lily. He drinks her smell in beneath him, forehead pressed to the crook of her neck. He works in her and through her with his hips, his girth, and when he throws his head back to cry in release she turns back to look at him. White breaks through the rich dark fur where he had rested at her shoulder and her soft golden eyes crack into lilac. Nadine.
The corner of her mouth curls into a sneer.
Loki,she calls him. Somewhere far away, the demon's ragged form seizes as her name escapes from his lips. She had tricked him in life and she tricks him still! In death, from beyond the ether!
It is still early in the night when he rises, hackles raised, scalloped ribcage heaving in shallow, useless breaths. Awake, he dare not breathe her name aloud. He paces in the cave he has chosen to make his den with @Quail in mind and he thinks about seeking her now for comfort... but she has chosen elsewhere to bed and he knows it is because he is what he is. Instead, he finds himself leaving the mountain.
This meadow had seen many beautiful things die. He can feel it seep into his bones like an illness. Behind him rises the sun. Fngers of illuminated blood spill across the horizon casting him in complete darkness save for those sinister yellow eyes and an uncanny halo where his guard hairs catch the morning light.
Birds gibber and laugh. He can hear her in the grinding calls of the magpies. Nadine. It is of her that he is thinking when he finds another tucked nearly undetectable beneath the shelter of a cottonwood as gnarled and black and twisted as the walking stranger himself.
Heavy molten gaze settles upon the thick ropes of scars that litter over what might have once been a beautiful, lissome thing. Although it had been his birthright to be the author of stories like hers and although he looked like he might still pen them, for better or worse he had left that life behind. Monster knows monster beneath the flesh. The last of the stars wink out behind him as he lingers, unwilling to break the barrier of silence between them.
RE: i. I can feel ghosts and ghouls wrap my head - Nym - August 06, 2018
She could not say how much time had passed before she was aware of a change - her brain sharpening as some sixth sense told her another was nearby. It was another moment before she saw him, her head tilting in observation.
He was an abnormal creature with long legs like a cellar spider, moving with the same weariness she finds carrying her through the world. He looked twisted as the sun rose behind his dark form, knife-thin frame silhouetted - she could think of no better word for his seemingly sinister appearance.
She feels his molten eyes on her and she raises her own startling golden pair to them. There's a silent understanding there - for she communicates very clearly with them - if you seek to break me, you've arrived too late.
He was an abnormal creature with long legs like a cellar spider, moving with the same weariness she finds carrying her through the world. He looked twisted as the sun rose behind his dark form, knife-thin frame silhouetted - she could think of no better word for his seemingly sinister appearance.
She feels his molten eyes on her and she raises her own startling golden pair to them. There's a silent understanding there - for she communicates very clearly with them - if you seek to break me, you've arrived too late.
RE: i. I can feel ghosts and ghouls wrap my head - Barracuda - August 06, 2018
oof short omfg
She did not recoil from him, but nor did she acknowledge him aside from meeting his gaze. He runs his tongue across his lips while he thinks and utters a soft whine, head lowered to meet her gaze at her level. He creeps a step or two closer, stomach brushes the still dew-soaked grasses.
He does not seek to break her. That is not his business, at least not any longer. But he does wish to sate his curiosities. Whatever that might mean.
RE: i. I can feel ghosts and ghouls wrap my head - Nym - August 08, 2018
With a whine, he presses closer to her and the Night Stalker repressed a need to recoil. It was not the man before her she feared, she'd faced worse and lived to tell the tale, but it was instinct to withdraw as he draws close. She holds herself perfectly still, any sign of tension hidden in the careful sprawl to her legs, face emotionless. Her golden eyes flicker with some emotion - curiosity perhaps or maybe just weariness.
She finds intrigue in his own startling, molten gaze and waits - for what she's not sure. Nym does not break the silence, she merely accepts his attention, glancing up at him as if to say What are you looking for?
She finds intrigue in his own startling, molten gaze and waits - for what she's not sure. Nym does not break the silence, she merely accepts his attention, glancing up at him as if to say What are you looking for?