Blackwater Islands birds and stars
lights • cameraaction
144 Posts
Ooc — Rachel
Offline
#1
Private 

This was not the home Indie would have chosen, if she had her druthers.  It was far too rocky, far too cold, and the constant winds besmirched her dark plumage in a most vexing way. Since having established commorancy, the chanteuse found herself hmpf-ing and harrumph-ing back and forth across the land, for Indie was a sumptuous being! She very much appreciated the good life and all the corporeal pleasures that came with it — of which, the Blackwater Islands had none. Even though Indie did not prefer their bleak milieu, it truly did seem to suit the Nereides quite well. They were an interesting type of women: harsh, yet soft. Caring, yet punitive. So down to earth, yet at the same time so many of them had their minds submerged within the ocean’s water. So, it made complete sense! Here, the water witches were surrounded by their sea; but the waters did not meet the solid shoreline gently and there was a pervasive mist that sat heavy in the air — and it was stifling.

With a curious energy of inactivity buzzing within her body, Indie picked her way across the broken landscape and arrived at the crashing sea. Here the shrouded vamp waited, her handsome haunches pressed up against the cold earth, wishing and willing the strange sea gods to provide her with any sort of a mental reprieve.
“what a lovely day" says the butcher as she raises her arm 
Select all. Delete.
239 Posts
Ooc — Ryan
Offline
#2
This place was bleak and unforgiving, but the power of the Mothers was made apparent in the way the sea churned with unrest. She sprawled, both angry and eternal. Her power slowly carved away the stone of the island on which they had come to rest, etching jagged cliffs at the island's side. Where the cliffs ended, there were beaches -- but they were wrought with stone and refuse coughed up from the ocean's embrace.

Whip avoided the cliffs and was naturally drawn to the beaches, for they were the most hospitible place in this unforgiving landscape. There, he found sustance. However, it was up to both the Mother's and fate as to wether the sea would provide. More often than naught, Whip found that the sea offered him nothing. The Mothers found him unworthy.

But today, a glut of carrion had washed upon the shore. A few scattered fish lined the beach. And Whip, having seen them from the high ground, took to the beach to feed.
lights • cameraaction
144 Posts
Ooc — Rachel
Offline
#3
Here the land stunk of fish and it accosted Indie’s sumptuous nose, which so enjoyed the scents of flowers and the freshness of inland. To say Indie was not an ocean wolf would be an understatement, for she was the definition of a summer wolf and had been blessed with favorable climate nearly year-round. She had been raised among the temperate forests from the south and her blood ran hot; so the way the salt from the spray of the ocean tangled and strung together her pelt vexed her entirely. She spent many hours cliffside, out of reach of the ocean’s grasp which crashed against the rocks below, grooming the salt from her fur and spitting the bitterness back into the sea. 

But this time… it felt nice. It felt nice to be cleansed by the mist from the waves, which damped her every time a waves crashed onto the shore. Indie was soon soaked entirely and sea water drained from the crown of her head to down around her ears, careened along her neck and over her chest and snaking around her tall legs, pooling onto the beaten sand around her. It was cleansing, even though the cold of the winter season stung her endlessly. The sea was powerful and it was no wonder that the sirens revered it so.

Indie was hungry then and she turned to pluck one of the marooned fish flapping upon the beach and she saw him; a male off in the distance. Inge’s hunger suddenly abated and her stance straightened, ears perked and tail lashed low between her feathered socks. The vamp was soaked thoroughly and must have been quite a sight, but that too was forgotten. “Come closer,” she said loudly as there was quite some distance between then, testing the waters and assessing her command over him… and knowing quite well that the consort would likely listen to her, the big and bad future amazonian lady that she was.
“what a lovely day" says the butcher as she raises her arm 
Select all. Delete.
239 Posts
Ooc — Ryan
Offline
#4
After nearly a year, Whip hits 100 posts!

The drudge descended upon the beach like a fading spirit. Silent and quick, Whip revealed himself only when necessary. He kept his head down and his gaze locked on the fish that had washed ashore as he made his way from the rocky, unforgiving cliffside to the coarse sand of the beach. His stomach rumbled, twisting into knots. After an extended bout of hunger, the Mothers had finally found him worthy of sustinance. Like the women who presided over him, the Mothers were unforgiving -- but they were fair. Under the watch of the sea, Whip would grow thin, but he would not die.

He fed for as long as he could, but Whip soon found himself drawing the attention of a siren further down the shore. She called to him long before Whip could fill his wanting belly. He turned his head and regarded the siren with cool reluctance. But, come closer he did. By her command, Whip approched with his head bowed in deference.

"Yes?" he asked. Whatever it was that the woman required, Whip hoped he could return to his meal before the sea saw fit to drag it away with the passing tide.
lights • cameraaction
144 Posts
Ooc — Rachel
Offline
#5
Yay! And to celebrate, Whip gets nothing but disrespect ;) 
throws confetti

The man [nay, consort] did as she bade him to do. He padded closer to her, looking quite forlorn at having been pulled away from his meal. Such a thing would have bothered Indie as well, so she could not fault him for such a thing… but not all in the sisterhood would be as forgiving as she! The sparrow actually felt bad for the Nerieides males, as they were treated often no better than slaves.The only tenderness they received was in death, it seemed, as Indie had experienced in the Sentinels with Akantha and her felled follower. The vaudevillian did not exactly believe as the sirens did, that men were inferior simply due to the circumstance of their birth. Indie too was a lowly thing, always searching for a way to rise up — so her heart truly did go out to the various men she had meet within the Nereides’ ranks — but still this did not stop her from exacting the same sort of control over them. Indie was not an evil creature, but she was selfish and would take advantage of something [or someone] as long as it was sanctioned [and, more often, if it wasn’t sanctioned].

He asked what she needed but Indie did not know. Company, entertainment, some sort of unethical power trip? It was probably a mix of all three that drove her to converse with him — mixed with a certain wonder at the brokenness of any wolf who would willingly be enslaved. It was an option afterall, wasn't it? Indie had a hard time seeing why they didn't just break their chains and run free as she had done, unshackled and unfettered past. This particular brute seemed thin, but surely he knew how to travel within the shadows and evade detection. He could surely leave if he wanted to. Why didn’t he try? How weak was he? Perhaps he even liked it?

Indie just had to know.

Even though Indie was still under Akantha’s tutelage and not yet a full fledged siren lady, Indie held her tail and head high, looking down her nose at him. She flicked her chin towards the spot down the beach where he had fed. “Pick the best fish and bring it to me.” Yes, there were fish close enough for her to grab for herself, but no Indie didn't want any of those. It wasn’t a request, and Indie’s gaze dared him to disobey.
“what a lovely day" says the butcher as she raises her arm 
Select all. Delete.
239 Posts
Ooc — Ryan
Offline
#6
<3

"The -- the best one?" Whip asked, repeating Indie's directions back to her like some sort of parrot. With all the fish that lined the shore, finding the best of all would be a daunting task. Surely, Whip could find her a suitable fish... but the best? The creme of the crop? The 1%? That was a tall order even for some sort of fish sommelier. However the order came from the mouth of a siren, so it had to be fulfilled, no matter how daunting the task was. He then looked back to the beach behind him.

"Okay," Whip then said, nodding. He took to the shoreline and he left the siren to her solitude while he combed the beach.

It took a few moments, but finally Whip found an unblemished fish that had washed ashore the previous night. Nosing the body, Whip's inspection was thourough -- and while it may have not been the best fish on the beach, it was certainly suitable. So then, Whip took it by the tail in his mouth and he lifted it for Indie to see from where he stood on the beach. "Mhm?" he called out to her, voice muffled from a full mouth.
lights • cameraaction
144 Posts
Ooc — Rachel
Offline
#7
The tempest watched as the drudge inspected each and everyone of the fish that littered the beach. He sniffed the corpses and his molten gaze followed, trying to figure this man out. Generally, Indie found it easy to read those around her. Their words were her litany, their body language her liturgy. Perhaps this was the reason the taciturn Nereides had enraptured her so — they were not easy to access, as if they were a remote island surrounded by churning water. On land, Indie was amongst the most skilled, but stranded at sea she was no more insightful than a mewling pup. As Indie mused, Whip found the choicest poisson and let it rest in front of her paws. Indie appreciated the finer things in life, but she was much too debauch to turn down any type of meal. This was simply a test, to assess her true authority over the wolf who, in another life, might have been her equal. She smiled and simply uttered “It will do,” seemingly pleased with the service she had received. The meal would not be eaten until later, so she turned her attention to the matter at hand.

Indie was generally a master of her own emotions, but the hoyden found it difficult to withhold the question that danced upon her lips. Her voice suddenly came softer, wishing to cajole the boy into divulging his motives. “Why do you stay?” she inquired in a thoughtful manner and an intentional cant of the head. Would he relent to her curiosity, or would he resist? This, too, she could not scry from his demeanor - but the uncertainty was enticing. 
“what a lovely day" says the butcher as she raises her arm 
Select all. Delete.
239 Posts
Ooc — Ryan
Offline
#8
Whip was, by most accounts, difficult to read. He kept his emptions close to the cuff, under guard, where he could shove them away to fester and twist into the warning signs of eventual mental illness. It wasn't healthy, but the boy got by. If Indie wanted to read him -- well, good luck to her, because Whip could hardly read himself. However, he did know that he wanted to belong. To do that, Whip knew he would have to serve. And serve well.

And serve he did.

The fish would suffice. He brought it over to where Indie lay, dropping it at her forepaws with little to no flourish. The dead fish flopped on to the sand with a soft thud. Whip then drew his gaze upward, from her paws to her face. "I stay because this is where I'm supposed to be," he answered. There were other factors that he had told Akantha, but she was the Matriarch. But more than that, she was like a mother to Whip. Indie however, was not.
lights • cameraaction
144 Posts
Ooc — Rachel
Offline
#9
[table width=85%][tr][td]
The fish flopped unceremoniously to the ground in front of her and Indie said nothing, pushing it aside with a feathered limb [as if she had no intention of actually eating it and asked him to work for naught] — wondered mindlessly if the boy would react to her provocations. Wolves far weaker than he reacted most poorly to offenses much, much less… Perhaps she had surrounded herself with vociferous and passionate wolves, much too like herself, for far too long... and now her perception seemed indefinitely skewed. In this respect, the Nereides had been somewhat of a most welcome culture shock.


“Who told you such things?” Indie questioned, biting her lip and entirely interested in the answer to her question: who indoctrinated this boy? Was it steady Akantha or the loose Kalika, or perhaps the mother herself? No matter the answer, Indie understood deeply. The starlet had experienced her own spell of stockholm sydrome, though Indie could still not glean from Whip whether or not he enjoyed his servitude, like she had. The closeness, the proximity to others who [seemingly] cared for you… it felt nice.
[/td][/tr][/table]
“what a lovely day" says the butcher as she raises her arm 
Select all. Delete.
239 Posts
Ooc — Ryan
Offline
#10
For a while, Whip stared blankly at the fish. He had worked so hard to produce it, but Indie regarded it with an indifference that struck Whip as strange. Had she never wanted it in the first place? He waited, and waited -- and waited some more, but Indie didn't care. Whip's brow furrowed quizzically. Strangely enough, she seemed more interested in Whip's ongoing situation. He felt as if he were under a high powered microscope. Exposed.

He looked down. His gaze would not meet her face. "Meteora," he answerd. She had been the first. After saving his miserable life down in the sulfer beds, Meteora had made quick work in filling in all the gaps in Whip's understanding of the world. But, she was not the only one to fill Whip's head. "Akantha." She did too. Being the voice of Mother Sea herself, every word of the new matriarch was irrefutable law. Whip believed every word.
lights • cameraaction
144 Posts
Ooc — Rachel
Offline
#11
I suckkkk! sorry for the wait <3

[table width=85%][tr][td]
Indie pursed licorice lips and nodded her head distinctly. “I see.” It was exactly as she expected; for Indie had undergone the same splendid indoctrination at the hands of the same quixotic siren ladies; the ones who had swept through the coast with their might and decisiveness and piety! It so closely coincided with her arrival in the Wilds that [had Indie not been intimately involved in the refounding] she would have thought they were a fixture on the coast all along. Yes, Indie liked shiny and ornate and the Nereides provided that a thousandfold; but looking upon this drudge made her quizzical about her own devotion to the Nereides. The vaudevillian seriously doubted her ability to commit to a life of servitude — she knew that the boy must be coming from a pretty low place to think that slavery was up.

“Akantha is quite the woman, isn’t she?” the woman questioned rhetorically. Silver-tongued she might be, Indie sometimes said things to say them; to garner a reaction; scrutinize their responses and leave the conversation with a greater understanding of their psyche. Sure, the statement was rooted in Indie’s own personal truths about their matriarch, but she was interested in what he had to say about it; the opinion of a thrall. Her eyes flashed. “She takes to leadership like the sun does the sky.” look away. look back.

She waited only a moment before continuing on. Indie leaned closer to him and spoke under her breath; as if she was about to speak a secret only Nereides outsiders would understand. “and… you believe in the ocean god? then she flipped a feathered, saltstrung paw to gesture at the tidal ocean, rhythmically beating against the beach. Indie was never meant for religion, but she could not doubt the strength of the ocean. She could feel the reverberations of the crashing waves throughout her body, what more evidence did she need? but — did he?
[/td][/tr][/table]
“what a lovely day" says the butcher as she raises her arm