Blackfeather Woods Black Adder
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#1
All Welcome 
forward dating to April 23rd


Someone’s forgotten god glides through the copse, a vein in widow’s black. Her endless belly gorges with blood. She is ravenous still. For her, killing comes quickly and with ease.

There is his deep silhouette, the heat of which only she will see. She homes in, alternating twists of one long muscle, ambling in pleated armor.

He considers the snake, he is the first to do so. In the grand stretch of world, she is an ill-conceived tube, odorous and without limb. She cannot scream. There is no fellow feeling to bear witness to this concede of death.

He grips her slithering head and her body grips his slithering neck. He vows to share her, it’s not alone that he takes god into his mouth.
Loner
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#2
A crying god beckoned her.

She arrived to its shed blood, being coddled by the mouth of a serpent. He feasted on the shapeshifter, impostor of thee.

And he that killeth any man will surely be put to death.
Thou shalt not kill.

Thou had not the same binds as the goddess he pinched between his teeth, and in return he would take her power as his own. Thou were not a disciple.
Thou art god.

From night, the mink appeared. She saw him feast, and she sought God. The snake in his mouth, she hungered for, much as she'd hungered for the presence of serpent. With a low head and a smile upon her lips, silent was she in her approach to him. Swishing her tail behind her, hackles raised before smoothing down with the submissive beat of her tail quickening, she came before him.

"Dinner?"

There was no promise of alone here. She cared not of that promise. Let them come. Should they not, she would bask in father night in a feast with God and his fallen goddess in solitude.
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#3
A biting pressure and her face disappears behind teeth. His choker writhes without its master. He moves his tongue over her ridges. A flavor is odd, oily and metallic and empty. Armored skin cracks, his teeth meet through flesh. She fragments. Swallow.

She passes over his tongue down into throat, he feels her settle within his chest. He blinks now with her own eyes, looking out through the godhead.

She shows him that something moves just beyond the bracken, a ripple of a wing and to his side a wispy veil with a look eclipsed prowls.

you have come
, Little Raven.”


When he speaks it is not only his speech, but the snake god, too. Their voices fuse into genderless hybrid. He smiles to feel her in him. His chainmail noose twists and contorts, say hello to our guest, Seth summons.

“Taste her,” they chant, “Let her enter your dreams.”
Loner
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#4
He swallows her, and he lets his raven watch.

Head crooked and ears tight to her scalp, each nimble limb makes careful step towards him. Low in posture, seeking a deity written in blood, and seeking the newborn God whose lips call her with glory. In his name and in his glory, she comes! Quick was her tail, low and ready to fall between her legs with a shown cheek while her eyes prey upon the writhing godess around his throat. She was lucky. She got to enter the stomach of a new God, and rule in his stomach riddled with the slick magma of Holy.

Why, his raven could only dream of being given such a thing. 
To rest in his stomach.

To be eaten alive.

 
I have come.
  Crooked smile on her lips, nose pushing out air while she lifted high feet, she approached the very throat the fallen wept in. How envious, raven felt.

Then raven would taste her too. Between her own teeth would quickly rest the tail of The Fallen, tasting her pure, freeing the corpse from the new vessel it took itself upon. And in their eyes, they would see her kneel before them. To her stomach, with the screeching tail, she looked up to them while holding it between her paws and feasting upon it in no simple swallow, but savory bites. 

Does this please him as much as it pleased her to kneel before him? She wants to see that pleasure in his godly eyes, and she wants those eyes to bask upon the smile she held upon her lips in tasting gods vessel. Be pleasured.
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#5
idk what this is but thank you for getting weird with me c:


They are not silken bites, but taken through by warring teeth, striking against scales as needle bones embed through gums and tongue. She spreads herself recumbent before him, the dribble of the goddess slain on her lips.

“Bow before me?” erupts sanctimoniously from the depths of his chest, half in serpent’s hiss.

“Will you surrender yourself to me? Give your worship? Eulogize my name? Die for my cause?” A voice thunderous, a silhouette towering and framed by colorless moonlight, ears high and sharp enough to cut through the twisting branches above. He holds himself there for a long moment- over her sweet submission.

“Rise, Little Raven. I am not your god,” He strokes at her with gentle whispers, placing an onyx paw beneath her chin.

“Bow only to death.”
Loner
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#6
I don't need to understand it to love it lolll

The confusion! The thought! The great emotions taking stride through serpent's veins! That much would make her smile more so. The time he took to think. Why, Seth had a brain he could use! How amusing. Yet, she had followed him thick and through, so she was granted the reward of her own pleasures in toying with him, if one could say that was what she'd been doing. Yet, lie she did not. 

"To the future, I bow, Seth! It is no lie.

With a great big smile, prideful and joyous in nature with what to her had been matching words, abundant in energy. "Then we will take you on the path of godhood, where Osiris' crown falls onto your temple! I think that would be most fun.



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#7
She opens to him gently, opening to become whole. Prophecies upon the tongue.

Sometimes when he looks down, there are shades of a fraught child looking back up.

Fun”, he purrs. He has not forgotten the nexus of their arrangement, not abandoned the needs of his little bird. “Save your bow, raven, you will need it for mortals who require such displays to feel powerful. I will speak to you of fun.”

He shifts to lay upon the earth, curling his elegant limbs, beckoning her to him. “Come, join me.”
Loner
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#8
"Oh, yeah? What is it." From watching her meal, to then staring straight at the molten gold hues burning on Sutekh's face. Intrigue! Fun! Bewilderment! Why, he had a proposal!? For her?

Leaning onto her side, she swallowed whole the remainder of the snake tail she took from the Prince of Death. Her lazy posture swiftly shifted. Up on her feet, paws hastily leaping to his side, and taking her place beside him.

No belly upon the floor was given, but rather her hind legs, head above his mass, eyes ahead with a pinned smile to the wilderness before them. Look at these vast, open lands for the taking. For the triumph.

Soon, he would feed her fun. He had her trust. Rightfully so, too. That much, he'd earned. And she'd earned his! Does destiny question this? She thinks not! Foolish! Impossible!
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#9
Spreading the word with perm from toula


Beside him she drapes and he rewards her with a soothing stroke of nose before looking out through the cut of forest. He liked such an intimate place, where secrets might hide themselves away behind every bend. But his eyes do crave for infinite state.

“I hear whispers,” His voice delivers on silk, for the ears of his winged companion. “There is a desert sovereign in search of a husband. She is to be crowned Queen of the realm of Akashingo. A grand ceremony will ensue. I should like to acquaint myself with this desert nation. I depart at first light.”

"Will raven find amusement in such things?" He asks, but he knows the answer.
Loner
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#10
"That is where you will be going?" So, he had busied himself! Sneaky, sneaky Sutekh! The imp's gaze was forward, set on watching the soft embers of his song catch wind. "To the realm of Akashingo?

Ponderous was her voice, questioning over what he said, tasting each sentence on her tongue like wine to see if she enjoyed the delicacy of them. Upon each sip, her smile dropped millimeters. At the end, that abruptly changed. Then, it was heightened to what it had been before. "Yes," she exclaimed to prince! "I like that."

A swift swish swung her tail to the other side of her body, her head draping close to his until her mouth fell beside his own, grabbing onto the serpent he sniped. Coming down to put her stomach on the soil, they would be enveloped by soft grasses they did not belong in. They would hear songs of wind from mother earth, under the grace of father moon, watching embers of word, in a beautiful silent night. Gorgeous blues, darks, the distant flames from a beautiful epiphany, and now together they'd build off of their song for desire and Apep. 

Seth.

She wished to hear more of this. So, in gentle word, she spoke again, pretty words in a pretty night, with pretty intent. Father night flourished while they basked, and she took notice to his beauty. "Do you wish me to follow you in the dawn?" Seth, she would follow regardless, even if the time should be unordinary. That was undying.

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Into the council of trees his maw will part, distorted silhouettes that twist like a cage over the wan gleam of the moon.

“The woods hold words yet to be spoken.” There was a task here yet, if he endeavored to know the country. To persuade riches from the regions of green in the different forms they would take.

To his raven he looks now, with an orderly golden luster in eyes that hold her close, “Do what you will in this land, Little Raven, but do not bide your time. I await you in the desert.”
Loner
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#12
"That? Of home, Seth?" Her bones would ache. They yearned for more of this palace he spoke of. What a wondrous ceremony for them to engage in. A dinner, then to a dance with the festive kings, queens, and noble of the land. They must be this noble! How exciting! How fascinating! Yes, yes, yes! Why, they would do this! That burning in her stomach again, then to her throat, and up to her eye that now squinted with her smile. Her veins must've run thick! Her blood so hot, her head so light! A treat, he offered! A wonderful treat!

"Yes. I come!" This moment, while fleeting, would come again. His release word would not be the end. "Not far. On time!" Cheeky. She may not have been on time. But her own clock, she followed and was never late beyond that. Lord chaos may not have seen her, but in his shadow she would trail about. During days of her expectancy, even if the hours ticked by beyond her said arrival, she would always land foot eventually. If there was some sort of hold up? She would push through! Unreliably reliable, should one garner the patience to not dismiss her. With that, Seth would have learned, that she would always come. 

The dunes, where they belonged. Perhaps they'd plant seed in their sands.
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#13
“Home,” he allows the notion to linger. “Perhaps. A new home, a place to cultivate kinships.”

“Would you like that, raven?” He coos and pets with his nose the inky shell of her temple that houses scattering ideas. So frantic and utterly bestrewn. Such chaos.
Loner
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#14
Not only would it linger, but it would fester. It would burn, simmer, bubble and boil right in her mind. 

A home for kinship.

Oh, how ecstatic she seemed. Closing her eyes, her head nudged subtly once, as if nearly aiding in the motion of his stroke against her forehead. When those lids burst open once more, only then did she answer him after giving him ample time to speak and he'd prompted an answer out of her that she couldn't resist giving. "Yeah! Doesn't that sound wonderful, Seth?" Why, he'd beckoned her, so closer she came, resting the bottom of her maw right on the ground beneath his while her eyes peered up upon his own of great aureate. 

She nearly whispered, yet her tone was anything but quiet in nature. Her quiet hush might as well have been begging to scream. It was clear, very certain, that her mind was racing for this thing he fed her. "Where we may sprout again! This time safer. New lands to tread in the presence of sovereign and noble! We will fit right in, yeah, you and I? Then I can deliver again."
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#15
“I expect Akashingo will keep raven busy. You may have an entire kingdom to service,” He’ll purr, delighted by her colorful timbre, the brightness of a future foretold in moons that probe so expectantly upwards.

A gilded cage is still a cage, but this is the way she likes it. The agreed upon arrangement. The beneficiary of plans within a pretty little aviary. And one day, when the timing is right, Seth will unlock the hatch, and off his raven will fly.

But for now: soothe, feed, nurture.
Loner
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#16
"And a God to service next.

Alleviate, devour, grow.

Lifting her head, and it only could have been slightly so, she allowed her paws to come just a bit closer together, her ears to prick the sky. Not a blind disciple, no. Why, she even offered him a soft smile. "When he's been crowned such."

Then, one day, he may free her, and they may fly. Still tempted were her wings, yet they stayed caged! Cruel! Foul! Yet patiently, as much as she cried for this freedom, she was perched, and not quite slamming on the door. That would open on its own. Or when she decided she was tired of the latch.
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#17
last from me this was so silly thank you as always!


He smiles in the heart of her worship, sounding as sweet as psalms meant for singing and will laugh beneath the glow of moon and the arc of indigo sky above, where the eyes of the gods were watching.
Loner
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#18
Thankyouuuu! <: This was so fun! Idk whats wrong with them loll 

He fluttered her ears with laughter for her to listen to.

Slowly, gently, as if the wind itself pushed her cheek over, her head went into a quirk to her left. In return, in the midst of his rumbling, she allowed verses from her own bible of laughter to drly, quietly trickle from her ashy lips. A harmony that she gladly partook in with him, and it came, oh, so naturally.

Rule.

................

Encapsulated by night, she stayed with him for not long after. When the chill of the winds touched her bones and the warmth of her mind started to flourish, her laughter quieted as she came to a stand. 

Before him, at her feet, her head bowed to be level with his own, eyes piercing straight into his, she spoke. "In dawn." A sweet, holy smile she gave to him before leaving him alone, parting in a saunter.

And a plan was in place. Change was coming.