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 Posted: Thu Mar 26, 2009 8:58 pm
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A QUICK IC INTRODUCTION...It had been several days since Oyohusa had reacquainted himself with the Kawani. But turning loose only three skinwalkers was almost an insult to the Kawani village's unwavering desire to live.
If he was going to do them any justice, he'd have to present them with creatures even more terrifying than the first wave. With his new batch of corpse powder, he had been given over to experimenting with the possibilities. Nothing could outdo a demon from hell, but he only summoned such skinwalkers when the time was right and the need was dire. He could still do nearly as well on his own if things worked out as he expected. He'd chosen the victims, and now it was only a matter of hunting them down once more, by the light of the moon. They could easily be pointed in the direction of more abundant prey, the inhabitants of the Kawani lands, once they were changed.
One was a Kalona stallion from a land not far from that of the Kawani. Would the curse help or hinder his natural ways of hunting and killing?
And the other was a half-unicorn mare from the distant mountains, whose only trait to show of her unicorn heritage was her healing horn. Could such a pure and innocent power be made useful in other, more sinister ways?
There was only one way to find out! AND A QUICK OOC INTRODUCTION...The two skinwalkers up for grabs in this contest are pre-made in appearance, but not their history. They were someone before they were Oyohusa's newest victims - and that's what you're going to tell me. I am looking to see what they lost, and what they gained, through becoming a skinwalker, even though their past is soon to be forgotten by them.
You may enter for either one or both, though you will ONLY BE ABLE TO WIN ONE. Edit your second entry into the same post as your first.
You may edit your entry up until the closing time, although it is recommended that you only post an entry when you are done.STARTS: NOW!ENDS: Mar 29th @ midnight PST Two blank-slate cursed skinwalkers will be offered.
You do not have to pre-qualify for this, but there will be a separate prompt to gauge your RPing skill. |
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Posted: Thu Mar 26, 2009 9:01 pm
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READ THIS OR DIE:
IMPORTANT SKINWALKER RULES
That's right, boys and girls - it's SKINWALKER TIME.
Namely, cursed skinwalkers. They're skinwalkers who weren't born skinwalker, but were changed into one with the use of Oyohusa's corpse powder. Believe me, it doesn't make them any less dangerous.
You will have a level of control over which species of skinwalker you can get from this contest, but the coloration of the pelt and animal form will be up to the colorist.
All skinwalkers have it in their nature to kill anything and everything, but delight particularly in killing humans and other Soquili of all breeds. Skinwalkers aren't sustenance hunters - they kill for fun. They do it often.
They are at odds with the Angeni, the only breed with the power to match them equally. Angeni cannot be cursed.
They make Kalonas look loving - skinwalkers cannot love, and cannot lifemate. And for them to have children is a perversion of their very nature - breedings that a skinwalker is involved in rarely involve the survival of the mate. The children of a union between cursed skinwalker and any breed will not result in pelted offspring - their children would actually be quite normal. Cuterthanyou is a fashionable bag lady. Psychological issues would not be passed on genetically, as the curse can only be passed on by the powder. Only two pure skinwalkers breeding together can produce children with pelts. But all skinwalkers despise the very idea of bringing new life into the world. Their job, their hell-given mission, is to eradicate it.
In short, skinwalkers are pure evil. They're not nice. They're not parents. They lack compassion, and seek impulsively to fulfill their own basic needs. A skinwalker will never remember who it was once cursed, can never go back to being who it was, and will remain a skinwalker until death. The pelt cannot be removed, not even to take down like a hood.
We reserve the right to not to give away any cursed skinwalkers if we do not believe there are any quality entries. Skinwalkers require responsibility on the part of the owner RPing them.
Enter this contest at your own risk!
The curse is irreversible. |
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Posted: Fri Mar 27, 2009 12:12 am
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Posted: Fri Mar 27, 2009 3:30 am
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Every light casts a shadow...
SW's name: Anahita (Persian name meaning "immaculate." In mythology, this is the name of a goddess of water.) – chosen as a name for a unicorn and the colour of her coat, pre-cursing.
SW's Temper: Fanatical
Prompt Response:
It burned, pain so intense it stopped her lungs. Tears filled her vision that had already blurred with the pain. What had she done? Why had she accepted the stranger’s offer? Curiosity… That had been it. Simple curiosity. Closing misty green eyes she wept, not for herself, but for her family, left far behind, siblings and Elders, friends and suitors. How foolish, how terribly, terribly foolish. She was going to die here.. far from home, a victim of herself.
Yet as the memories faded, the dreams of who and what she had been crumbling to dust under the inferno of power that rose within her, the tears dried upon her cheeks, the love she felt for the world, the beauty and passion that had existed, unrealised within her, blackened, twisted and distorted by the darkness she had willingly accepted. The power burst through her, her blood on fire, copper taste in her mouth and then.. then the rush of pure lust that flooded her body, filled her with the desire to rip, tear, crush and trample! Oh it was glorious! Such feeling as she had never experienced, the overwhelming rush of power, of fierce hunger! Never before had she felt anything so intense, never before had she felt so driven. Her life had purpose now, a hell-given mission and it filled her with a crazed passion. Wide green eyes narrowed with fanatical intelligence, the agony of the powder becoming the most potent elixir as the brilliance of insanity filled the once gentled gaze.
Kill.. the need burned with in her. Kill.. the desperate urge to feel bone shattering under a hoof. Kill.. to watch the crimson innocence of others stain the ground at her hooves.
Rip! Rend! Murder! Massacre! Slay the innocent, slay the guilty, they must die, they had to die. It was their destiny, it was the will of the gods!
Flying to her feet, hunger and crazed fanaticism sent her screaming towards the village, blood curdling cries warning those ahead of the terror bearing down on them.
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Posted: Fri Mar 27, 2009 3:55 am
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There are places in the heart that do not yet exist; suffering has to enter in for them to come to be.
SW's name: Eurynome
SW's Temper: vicious
Prompt Response: What the hell just happened? A pathetic human could never take him down so damn easy. No he was a strong, vicious Kalona stallion who was a force to be reckoned with and no damn human was going to embarrasses him like this. A snarl escaped from his maw as he blindly lashed out at the human who oddly enough could understand him which had been the reason for hesitating in not killing him off the minute he saw him. Cursing the human and his sly words that had tricked him in accepting his offer. but he was not going to get away with it oh no he was going to pay with his life for this no matter what the cost. Eurynome was in pain from the burning sensation from whatever the hell had been blown into his face which had poisoned him or so he thought had poisoned him. “You will not get away with this you b*****d human." snarling, he staggered till he finally collapsed onto the ground, appearing half dead from whatever had 'poisoned' him. Groaning, he thought he was dying with how weak and with how much pain he was in. as parts of his life where being flashed before his eyes the burning sensation became overwhelming as he passed out while he wonder if he had made a huge mistake.
As a foal he had been known to be overly curious and unlike how he was now, he had not been as vicious as a foal. No he had grown into that role as his parents and peers drilled him on what a proper Kalona should be. As many say curiosity killed the cat and let’s just say his curiosity got the better of him when it came to the 'lesser' races. As a foal he had been told to stay away from the lesser races until he was fully trained and educated in why they where the better race and why they killed them. Oh that did not stop him one bit even if he had been told that he could get corrupted into being nice. It didn’t take too long for him to find a ground colt when off exploring, and hoping to terrorize someone or some animal around. Wings flared, he snapped his teeth at the colt and gave a snarl at. “you should of stayed home with mommy and daddy little boy." of course he was putting on an scary act and hoped to scare off the colt for amusement. After all he was superior to this colt in every way. The young cold was wide eyed with shock and slowly backed away from. “Who are you….and what are you…….what do you want from me.” A cruel laugh was givin to the colt as Eurynome stepped closer.
“Who I am is none of your business, not like you need to know anyways. What am I? I’m your better.” Of course he had no clue what he wanted from the other exactly since well this was supposed to be for amusement. “How are you better than me?” it was a simple answer that really he had no answer for. All he knew was that he was just better than him. “ I just am you idiot!” growling, he attacked the colt in blind anger and in the end he severely injured that colt until a group of adults that had been close enough to hear the screams of the other colt ran him off. Had he known his father had been watching, he probably wouldn’t have confronted that colt or played the game that in the end caused him more trouble than wanted. His father though was rather proud his son had shown up that lesser colt and praised his son for his actions. From that time on he never thought of the consequences that could happen from his actions. Do what he whatever he desired and ask questions later became how he lived his life and so far he had never had any real bad consequence from his actions till now.
There was many other things from his life that had flashed before his eyes as he had underwent the cursing but he would not be able to recall those memories regardless of if he had wanted to or not. All those life’s lessons, and mistakes that he had to learn from trial and error as a colt where now all gone. Once an impulsive, head strong Kalona stallion, he was now even more dangerous that he had ever been as a normal Kalona. With new found strength and a thirst for blood and death that could never be satisfied. Eurynome had no respect for anyone of anything and defiantly would not follow any rules any longer. Not as if he ever was one to do so anyways. Maybe that’s why he was cursed to be a skinwalker forever and never able to return to the life he once had, but there is much doubt he really cares all too much.
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Posted: Fri Mar 27, 2009 5:14 am
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There are places in the heart that do not yet exist; suffering has to enter in for them to come to be.
SW's name: Bezaleel [[Anglicized form of Hebrew 'Betsalel', meaning "in the shadow."]]
SW's Temper: Impish
Prompt Response:
“Damn your kind, two-legger!” A drawn out, serpentine hiss was let out by Bezaleel between gritted fangs, the male giving a thrash of his spade tipped tail about him. Letting out a snarl, he snapped his jaws blindly, eyes shut tightly in the agony delivered to him by the human adorned with pelts. Snap! Crack! Though loud and surely fear invoking to any creature of the land, the sounds usually signaling the motion of hungry fangs into flesh did nothing, the enraged and pained Kalona’s teeth merely whisking through the air. Gods, this.. This pain! This.. This was what pain was like?! “Unbearable! Argh! Mother.. why?!“ The male shrieked out, rapidly blinking his eyes in an attempt to regain his sight, the skill that had always been there now stolen by the human’s damned powder. Salty tears just wouldn’t come to wash the pain delivering dust from his eyes, despite the shrieks and awfully noisy screeches coming from him. He was supposed to be a deliverer of pain, not the weak and beaten receiver! Bezaleel gave a snarl once more as he tried to keep himself up from the more-than-odd sensation he was feeling at that moment, never having to have dealt with a pain such as this. It burned! It throbbed! It felt as if he was being raked at by an invisible enemy’s claws.
Frantic panting began to come out from the Kalona’s maw, lizard slit tongue flicking out and going over it’s owner’s lips. When would this end? ‘Why me?’ He had done only the rightist of evil deeds for his dear mother, taken lives, and wreaked havoc among the tan skinned one’s harvest lands. He had lived as a pure Kalona was supposed to, how they were obligated to act! He shouldn’t have to be punished for anything, by some damned Gods wills or anything of the sort!.. Making a deal with the devil… This mere human couldn’t.. be the devil now, could he? Had he made a deal with the devil? A deep, red haze was beginning to take him over, finally stealing any sight that had been available away. For once in his life, Bezaleel gave in. ‘..What?’ The oddest thing had happened! His breathing had slowed as he had fallen to the ground with the dullest of thumps, he giving in to the two-legged one’s work at last. He felt.. Slow.
There was only one reason for his living: The one he had called ‘mother‘. She had brought him into the filth ridden world, Bezaleel the result of an unwanted mating with another Kalona. The male had been powerful, forceful, and stronger than she, overcoming his mother and forcing her to carry on his bloodline. The poor colt was truly hated.
“Mother.” He muttered out with a growl, giving a whip of his head about before letting it fall to the ground. He wanted to fight back, lash out and destroy that pelt-wearer to bits!.. Damn that human.
As an infant, he had been hated, indeed. But then the female had taken a second look at the little orange and black colt. He could be useful.. A tool. For what? Her revenge. She had taken care of Bezaleel, showing him how to kill, the techniques, what joy could be found in terrorizing the humans, how to hide out in the darkest of shadows and then leap out and finish the wanted prey. Everything was at a Kalona’s hoof, able to be taken whether it be willingly given or forcefully taken. Then he had done it, what he had been trained to do, the deed that would earn him the utmost respect and love from Mother: He had killed his father. A quick leap from the cover of the trees, a bite at his throat with a snap of his teeth, a round of suffocation in that disgusting blood of his and then a shove to the ground. Then Bezaleel had stood. He just stood there and grinned a toothy, bloodied grin. But the job had to be done, the son giving a last snap at the father’s throat, with mother watching contently nearby, unseen to them. She’d then made herself known, stepping out from the nearby woods and approaching Bezaleel. He had stood proudly, dignified as he waited for the praise and love to be delivered now that his purpose was filled. ‘Mot-’ Quietly, it had been done. His mother had lashed out at him, knocking him to the ground and pinning him down, teeth bared and held above his face for a moment before they were raked across his eye. ‘There’s no purpose for you anymore, boy.’
“I killed him though, Mother..”
Oh Gods.. Blood! He needed blood in him! It didn’t matter where it came from, who he had to kill, he just needed it. Bezaleel let out a throaty rumble, baring his teeth and licking at his lips as he gathered himself. The skinned wolf paws dangling over his chest lightly brushed against him as he fled, eyes slit into a concentrated glare as he seeked out something to toy with. Most everything had blood running through them, and that blood could all be his! He just had to have a little fun with the owner‘s first. Everything besides him, the other races, the other creatures, they were just toys. Fun, delightfully pathetic little things~ No consequences to deal with, no one posing a threat: Only he had feelings, the toys were nothing. After all, they were just toys, were they not? And he had an obligation as a Skinwalker to wreck all the bitty toys.
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Posted: Fri Mar 27, 2009 6:04 am
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Every light casts a shadow...
SW's name: Umbra
The shadow the moon casts, and given to her to honor the twilight colors of her pelt. She cares little for her name now, nor does she have any real use for it, though in a way, it is still perversely fitting. The cat travels like a shadow in the night.
SW's Temper: Covetous Torturer
Prompt Response:
The throaty growl that rumbled in her throat was a mockery of the purr that lesser felines made, and yet for Umbra it truly was a noise of utter pleasure. She licked the blood carefully from her paws with her rough tongue, savoring every ghost of a taste. There was such delight, such utter bliss that came with the discovery of a new taste, and she sought to fully appreciate every last drop. Her green eyes cast possessively over the forms that decorated the cave that she had claimed as her own. There were large forms, small forms... One of them had been the alpha of his herd, thinking himself matchess in strength. His flesh was hearty, savory. Another, a delicate blossom of a mare, whose blood tasted as sweet as nectar. There was the bear that had called this cave his own before she had claimed it. He had put on such a fuss when she had arrived, but lo be it to think him better than her. His flesh was wild, gamey, but no less delicious than any of her other possessions. Each body that lay on her floor was different. She cared little for their stories, other than some seemed to scream more sharply or more melodiously to her ears when she bit into them. The music of their screams was almost as delightful as the rich, savory flavors of their meat. For they were still very much alive. Umbra had seen to that. Her feline senses were acute, her nose was sharp. She could smell Death when it was hedging in on one of her playthings. He could not have them! They were hers to enjoy, hers to play with. And she saw to it with the use of the horn on her head that her treasures never crossed the threshold into dead flesh. Oh they got close, deliciously close. Their bodies were wracked in pain almost continuously, as she had to make certain that they could not leave her. Legs were broken, spines were crushed, but they were not dead. And Umbra was honing her skills by the day to try to forbid them even the peace of unconsciousness or numb paralysis. And if she made a mistake, if she hit them too hard so that they did not feel anymore, she would fix it, and then, she could hit them again. Somewhere different. To see what noise they would make when she hit them there. To hear and taste and smell their agony which was almost as nourishing to the skinwalker as their flesh itself. Such delightful games they played.
Umbra padded around the walls, inspecting each of her treasures to check on their infections and ragged breathing, occasionally taking a delicious taste, occasionally mending an infection that threatened to poison their blood. When she reached the end of her circuit, she paused, growling pleased at the battered mare that lay still save for the uneven rise and fall of her chest. This one was her first possession, and that made it a certain kind of special. Slitted pupils lingered on the delicate chain that wrapped itself around the mare's neck and a titter of a laugh shook the cat. She remembered little of her life before, nor did she care to. She did not mourn the memories that faded more and more by the day into a thick mist of obscurity. But seeing that necklace brought flashes to her mind, and let her exhalt in the power and wealth that she now possessed; far beyond any ridiculous trinkets she had put value on before.
*
*
*
Umbra had always been a little bit strange. Now, Umbra had been far from crazy, but almost anyone - man or soquili, has their quirks. A distant mother had led to her craving attention and appreciation. When her mother had shown her affection, it was in the form of gifts: a delicate necklace that a Kawani woman had woven, or a lovely flower for her mane. And so, as Umbra had grown, she began to see these possessions as analogous with attention and love. And so, when one day her mother told her that she was grown and should find her own place in the world, she had clung to these trappings as her treasures, permanent reminders of affection shown. Over the seasons, the young mare had collected many more beautiful, shining treasures. Rings to adorn her ears, elegant draperies, necklaces in the form of precious stones or metals. She never missed an opportunity to talk about them to a stranger whose eyes lingered on them, or to offer her services as a healer in order to procure a new bauble. Every feather, every pendant had a story, and she could recite them with pride. How she got it, who gave it to her, what noble service she had done to earn such a valuable treasure. For while Umbra possessed the healing magic of a unicorn's horn, the heart that beat in her breast was no match for the noble organ that drove a true unicorn. She could heal, but it was for ultimately selfish reasons of possession and wealth. And this flaw had not gone unnoticed by the darkest of souls, the progenitor skinwalker Oyohusa.
One evening, when the sun was being swallowed by the earth and the land was painted in violets, a stranger had approached Umbra. Given her healing ability and shimmering treasures, Umbra was not unused to attention, and she so she did not fear the man clad in skins. With a strange twinkle in his eyes that Umbra had not noticed, he had praised her treasures. This human could speak to her! And more than that, he seemed to know exactly what to say to quickly have Umbra in the palm of his hand, tittering with mock humility.
Once he had her attention, a gnarled hand clumsily stroked her cerulean coat as he spoke in an almost mesmerizing voice. "Your treasures are beautiful, certainly, but there is a treasure far greater than any you yet possess."
Umbra's ears flattened and she looked, scandalized to the man. "I possess pearls from the depths of the sea, gold carved from the mountains of the North, and even a stone of Jade from a land further away than any soquili could walk in a lifetime."
The man laughed, which sounded more like a dry cough than any sound of amusement, but Umbra paid it no mind. "These things are but baubles. Colorful bits of discarded trash from the great mountains, an irritated tumor from a clam! These things have no true value. I can give you a gift that has no equal." He pulled from around his neck a medicine bag made of worn leather. Even closed, an acrid searing smell tickled Umbra's nose, but in her hunger for this grand treasure, Umbra paid it no attention.
"Yes!" She wheedled, "Please, may I have this treasure, human? Is there a healing that you need me to perform? I will even grant you a ride on my back for this priceless treasure you speak of!"
The smile twisted on his face, seeming to nearly tear his face apart it was so wide. "I require of you no service," He began, pulling at the drawstrings with a torturously slow pace to Umbra. As soon as the top was open, gaping like a maw, Umbra's curiousity could no longer be restrained. She stuck her nose into the bag, determined to discover what possession this smelly man could have that could best HER collection. But as she breathed in to investigate, it felt as if she had inhaled pure fire. Her nose burned in agony as fiery tendrils seemed to snake through her innards, clawing and biting, and driving her mad. She reared, letting loose a shrill whinny. She turned to face the man, but he was gone... and then so soon after was her consciousness.
**
When Umbra woke, she felt ALIVE. More alive than any day before. It was like her mind had been sheltered in a sweltering desert heat and now was set out into the crisp winter snows. Her body responded with such grace and power, and a hunger clawed at her belly. It had not taken her long to find another - a beautiful mare was out alone in a pasture despite being the dead of night. But Umbra's eyes immediately went to a necklace the hung around her neck. It seemed to be spun of such delicate silver that nothing shy of a spider could have created it. Droplets of pure moonlight hung captured in that silver web. Umbra yearned. This had to be the treasure that the man had spoken of, it had to be hers. And then, with a ferocity born of madness, a hunger that drove her greed and her belly, she had pounced. Never for a moment did her mind question that violence was the only option to get what she wanted. Never for a moment did resentment or guilt flit in her breast.
But as the mare fell to her claws and teeth, screaming in agony, and hot, delcious blood splattering into her mouth, Umbra had an epiphany. Oyohusa had given her a far greater gift than the one wrapped around this mare's gurgling neck. He had given her claws, sabre-like teeth, and the power to TAKE what she wanted. With a roaring laugh, Umbra tore away at the restrictive chains of gold and heavy blankets of silk that lay over her like the trash that they were. With new eyes, she looked down at the bleeding, quivering mare with a new appreciation. She could possess much much more than trinkets, she could possess this beautiful, delicious, delightful mare in her entirety. Sinking dagger-teeth into her flank, Umbra began to drag her away.
This would be but the the first piece of many in her NEW collection.
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Posted: Fri Mar 27, 2009 6:50 am
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Every light casts a shadow...
SW's name: Tadewi
SW's Temper: Cunning
Prompt Response:
Tadewi could hardly see the pelt-wearing soft skin now, the red haze in front of her eyes too thick to see through. Thoughts, memories flashed through her head, why wouldn't the pain stop! Why...why wouldn't it stop...
"Come on Tadewi!" Her younger brother called. "Lets go play by the ravine!" Tadewi made a face, she did not want to play, but when Chosovi pulled her to her feet, the foal Tadewi sighed and followed. Her hooves clopped on the ground, and she looked down to see her hooves. They were cloven, but she was not a full unicorn. A spark of jealously burned deeply in her soul. Her brother was a full unicorn. She was a half unicorn, she would never have full healing powers. Silently, she cursed her parents. When she heard Chosovi call up ahead, she immediately felt bad, it wasn't his fault. She trotted up to him on her gangly foal legs, and said, "Well, what do you want to do?" Chosovi danced excitedly, "I dunno!" As he spun and twirled, Tadewi could hear the sound of his perfectly cloven feet clop on the gound. Tap...tap...tap... Tadewi became frustrated, then enraged, at her perfect little brother. She took a look over the ravine's edge and saw the dark water rushing quietly below. Then she heard a scream. Chosovi teetered at the ravine's edge, hooves scrambling in the air. Cloven hooves, perfect hooves. Tadewi watched coldly as he slowly fell, and drown. Terror suddenly came over her, and she screamed into the air, "I'm sorry Chosovi! I'm so sorry!"
As she came back to the present Tadewi could still hear her brother's screams, no, they were her own! Why wouldn't this agony end!
The summer sun glinted off Tadewi's shinny adult coat. It had just finished growing in a few days ago, and she wanted to show everyone, especially him. 'Him' happened to be a full unicorn, with dreamy eyes and the most gorgeous coat. Tadewi was sweet on him, and everyone knew, except for him, Honovi. Every time he looked at Tadewi she felt like she was drowning in stars and violets. Eagerly, she galloped to where she knew he would be with his friends, it was a popular clearing, and lots of soquili hung out there. As she approached it she slowed to a trot, then a walk, her ears flicked back and forth. What was that noise? It sounded like screaming! She quietly approached the clearing, and as she peered through the trees her vision clouded with terror. They were dead! They were all dead! Looking up she saw it before it disappeared into the clouds, it was a kalona, with blood dripping off its fangs. Tadewi rushed into the clearing, and saw Honovi lying on the ground. She ran over to him, tears streaming down her face. "Honovi! HONOVI!" He didn't move. Frantically Tadewi touched her horn to all his wounds, but they didn't heal. She screamed with frustration. "Why the hell did I have to be born a half unicorn! I can't even save the ones I love, so why the hell have a horn at all!?" And she sat there, Honovi's head cradled in her hooves, until he slipped off into the unknown. As the blackness of night took over, Tadewi stood. In a cold voice she said, "I renounce everything of my unicorn heritage, they are no family or relatives of mine. I couldn't save the one I love, so I will save none." Then she walked into the shadow of the trees, not even turning back when she heard a soft moan in the clearing.
Tadewi still felt the tears streaming down her face, but was it from the memory? The fire burned within her now, stripping her of everything. She couldn't remember, she couldn't think, but then the fire died down, and a new persona took over, she was a new being, a new entity.
As the red haze cleared, Tadewi looked into a puddle. The fangs of her pelt glinted harshly in the moonlight, and her pelt itself shone with the stars above. Her tail was long and feline, and her eyes glinted a bright, emerald green. She disregarded the horn, it was a minor oversight, for it was not who she was. Perhapes she could use it in other ways though, such as gutting a victim. Her stomach growled, she was hungry. She did a 360 degree turn, and spotted teepees in the distance. She felt her cold heart burn with pleasure, and a tingle ran down her back. Two leggers were easy pickings. She could easily take a twolegger child from its bed. She cantered easily down to the village, where she felt herself twist and mold into a new form. The cat Tadewi dug her claws into the soft earth, and as the moon rose high, and the stars shone above and on her pelt, saliva dripped from her fangs, this was who she was, this was who she would be, and this was who she had always been. Of that, she was certain.
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Posted: Fri Mar 27, 2009 7:56 am
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Every light casts a shadow...
SW's name: Mitena
SW's Temper: Manipulative
Prompt Response: For the life of her, Mitena could not remember how she ended up here, in this strange teepee, covered in a foul-smelling powder and writhing in terrible agony. She woke to the sounds of animalistic snarls, the likes of which she had never heard before- and was shocked into speechlessness at the realization that they were coming from her. Still, she struggled to stand, to make her way towards the opening- she had to go, to get away from here, her sister would know what to do- only to collapse once again a scant few feet away from the opening flap.
Hapless muscle spasms wracked her body as she convulsed on the dirt, unable to even cry out as the pain continued to burn through her blood, spreading until every inch of her petite frame was engulfed in agony. Mitena whimpered, emerald eyes forcing themselves open under a wet sheen of pained tears as she struggled to call for help. Her sister was nearby, her sister would help, her sister would know what to do... no... no, her sister would taste lovely, her sweet blood would feel fantastic upon her sharpened fangs, her shrill cries for mercy would be music to her ears, and her dying gasps would fill her with such satisfaction...
A sharp gasp worked itself out of her throat, jaden irises widening at the unfamiliar feel of bloodlust that had clouded her thoughts only moments earlier, as if it was her own. Was it her own? She had never harbored such thoughts, she was a healer... a gentle soul, like her mother, but oh, she wanted blood and flesh, she wanted to hear the screams and taste the fear... Gods, what was wrong with her?! “Awendela...” she called out weakly to her sister, hope rising in her chest at the sound of light hoofbeats outside the strange teepee, voice rising in desperation. “’Dela!”
How shameful, to call out for help, especially to a lesser- but oh, she would enjoy her blood so much--
“Mitena?” the soft, melodic voice of her dear sister broke through the haze of her chaotic thoughts, green eyes glazed over in something completely foreign to her own senses. “Mitena, is that you? What’s the matter?” Just a little more... she just had to come a little closer and she could sink her fangs into that delightfully tender flesh... NO! NO! ‘Dela was her family, not a meal! She would never attack ‘Dela! It would be so easy... yes, yes, she only had to draw her near with helpless cries, and she would be drawn into the wolf’s fangs like the helpless sheep that she was.
“’Tena?” the hesitant voice broke the tense, still silence that had ensued after her malicious thoughts, and a dark blue head poked itself through the loose flaps of the teepee’s entrance. Unseen, a vicious grin stretched itself across her face, completely at odds with the warring voices ringing through her head- although one was growing steadily weaker, fading as the pain of her body slowly drained away. She could think clearly now- what the hell had she been doing before? No matter... there was prey here... lovely, tender, unsuspecting prey that had just unknowingly walked directly into the jaws of the beast.
Sharpened canines were bared in a snarl as the petite form of what had once been a unicorn leapt from her position, prostrate on the ground, to sink her fangs into the shocked female at the door.
Cries of pain, shrieks for mercy and the final breaths of a victim pierced the night’s silence, echoing soundly into the surrounding forest... and then there was no more.
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Posted: Fri Mar 27, 2009 8:00 am
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Every light casts a shadow...
SW's name: Usama
SW's Temper: Abomination
Prompt Response:
The sharp snap of fragile bones breaking beneath her hooves. The wet raspy breaths of lungs filling up with fluid as the form beneath her struggled in vain in live, to get beyond its pain and heal, even as the brilliant blue eyes begged her to end it all. The half-blooded unicorn wept tears of anger and bitterness and the unfairness of life. She was a healer, she was supposed to give life not end it. Trying hard to convince herself that this was right, that this was the only course of action she could take, the mare lowered her head so her horn was resting on the skin, just over the young one’s jugular.
“Please forgive me,” she whispered brokenly, hoping that someone somewhere was listening and would hear her prayer. For one who was taught to value every life, that every life was sacred, this one act would shatter her completely she knew, but she couldn’t just let the young one suffer so much needlessly.
As the flesh of the foals neck parted, allowing her horn to pierce the life-giving vein so easily, she wept, her tears mingling with the brilliant crimson life force slowly draining, staining the foals coat. She felt the warmth of the blood spattering her face as the body beneath her trembled and went still, growing colder by the second. As he bled out, the foal managed to look his savior in the eye, gratitude shining brightly for her to see if only she looked.
Once the foal was cold, his body locked by death, she slipped her horn back out as she raised her head to the heaven’s and trumpeted her grief for all to hear. And she shattered.
***
In the dark of the night, she stumbled across HIM. How fitting it seemed that while her world collapsed in the bright light of day- death stole everything she was and stood for- but the dark moonless night which would normally be associated with death would bring to her new life.
The odd two-legger with the pelt on his back, smelling of death and something else indefinable, found her wandering, her mind shattered and her crazed without direction meaning or purpose. Extending a skeletal hand full of a noxious foul smelling powder he offered her hope, something to pull her out of the ashes of her despair. Not hearing what he was truly saying or offering she lowered her head in acquiescence, allowing him sprinkle the powder over her head and back.
She hissed as it burned. This was not what the two-legger had promised. She saw red, and fought the pain which was almost a match for that which had shattered her in the first place. She thirsted for blood- the blood of the one who caused her this pain. She lunged blindly hoping that her hooves or horn or teeth- that some part of her would reach and take down that creature. While she flailed about, she heard a low laugh, as dark and cold as the night itself.
“Easy there, pretty. You’ll get your chance… someday. Look for me to the ends of the earth. Let your hatred consume you. And remember, while your own kind caused you pain, it was a two-legger who hurt you even worse. Hate and grow strong. I look forward to seeing you again someday.”
The only words that registered in her now hazy mind along with the memories of that day were pain, two-legger, hate. And so she would take the voice at its words. Two-leggers caused this pain, so she would hate and if it was the last thing she ever did, she would eradicate them all.
***
In the darkness she waited, stalking her prey. Playing with them as the blood lust rose higher and higher. While she loved the feel of blood spurting from the jugular, covering her as well as the target with each beat of its heart, tonight she was in the mood for something … different, something slower. She grinned and in that grin was death.
She chased after the little two-legger youngling, allowing it time to reach
what it thought would be the safety of its teepee. She waited outside for a moment before standing just so the fire in the pit would cast her silhouette on the door. She could smell the fear raising and she nickered her enjoyment. Tapping softly on the scrap of fabric with her hoof she murmured to herself “Little pig, little pig, won’t you let me come in?”1
Slipping her horn along the edge of the makeshift door, she created an opening that would allow her to slip inside. The scream of terror was music to her ears. One slow precise step at a time she moved to the cowering child. Deliberately she stepped down hard on the child’s legs. The snap of fragile bones beneath her hooves no longer bothered her and she maliciously shifted her weight, causing even more pain as the bones shattered further. She shivered with pleasure and delight as she lowered her horn. She had not planned on a quick death this time, but the night was still young, and there was other prey to be stalked.
Note: 1- I kinda thought the Three Little Pigs reference was suiting.
Surely, you have been poisoned by this pelt-wearing human! It would be triumphant to take him down with you, but you can hardly see now. The powder has begun to burn you too fiercely to see him, or anything, but a red haze and fleeting memories. You were fascinated at first that he could understand you and speak to you, but your ambassadorship was not long-lived. There are no Skinwalkers in the land you are from - it was dubious enough, the idea of being able to become another animal entirely whenever you chose, but it was intriguing all the same and you had agreed to it! And now you feel like you're going to die. But it may not have been the biggest mistake you've made in your life...
It is said that just before death, one's whole life flashes before their eyes... though you may not die after all. What important events go through your mind before you lose them? And what plans do you have when they're gone, and you are a skinwalker?
There are places in the heart that do not yet exist; suffering has to enter in for them to come to be.
SW's name: Ne'igalomea, Vicomte of Pain
SW's Temper: homicidal
Prompt Response: (2000 words or less)
Oyohusa watched in the shadows. His informants of the night had told him tales of a kalona so bloodthirsty he rivaled the night-shaman’s own creations. He had scoffed, thinking there was no way there could be a specimen so vicious, so ‘evil’, so perfect for what he was plotting. And so, he decided to seek out this Kalona and see for himself if the creature was worthy of his dark gift. Leaving the kawani lands, he sought out the stallion, and when he finally came upon him, Oyohusa was delighted. He was perfect.
Ne’igalomea sneered as he hunted. There was no challenge here. His prey was weak, pathetic. Always the same. But still the bloodlust rose, firing his veins until there was naught he could do but hunt, trying to quench- to appease- this burning desire, and to cause as much pain, suffering and sorrow as was possible. For that was his birth-right and his legacy.
Lifting his head, he sniffed the wind to catch the scent of his next victim. Turning his head this way and that he searched. …. There. The salty scent of tears, the harsh scent of fear, mixed with the weak two-legger youngling smell. This should be enough to calm his raging blood, and quench his near-unending thirst for blood.
Slipping amongst the shadows, the dark shaman followed his target, eager to watch the pain and suffering the stallion caused, waiting for him to be caught up in the adrenaline rush of the kill before offering his black gift to the creature- waiting for the moment he was at his most vulnerable, refusing to allow him to refuse. He watched with something akin to respect when the stallion not only killed the little human child, but mangled her beyond all recognition before finally allowing her the release of death. Yes, this stallion would make a fine addition to his collection of pelted soldiers. His dark plans would be well advanced with the addition of the kalona.
The stallion stood for a moment over the fallen body of his victim, allowing her blood to cool on his coat then lowering his head to tear a wound in her flesh to allow her blood to flow fresh as he drank the crimson life blood. His normal enjoyment dimmed by disappointment and a growing sense of apathy. These kills were too easy, and needed far too often for him to derive any pleasure anymore.
“A magnificent kill, Dark One. But perhaps a little unfulfilling?” A low rasping voice came from the shadows behind him.
The red and black stallion, still stained with the cooling blood of his latest kill, whirled around trying to locate the voice which had done nothing more than state the vague conclusion he had just reached. This voice wasn’t in him, so it was just another target, another potential kill.
“Perhaps this land has become too weak to support any true predators, much less a hunter like yourself.” The shaman stepped out of the shadows next to the kalona, “ Perhaps a new land with stronger prey, and even stronger predators. New challenges and a chance for better blood. This is what one such as you needs. I can give you this.”
The stallion was disconcerted by the pelt wearing two-legger- he was weak, but he smelled of death and darkness and night. Warily he listened, interested despite himself. One step, two steps… he was almost on top of the two-legger when he stopped. There was something drawing him.
The shaman bared his teeth in a predatory grin as he tossed a handful of corpse powder onto the stallion. “You will gain strength and speed and power. You will wake up in a new land. A better land. You will kill and you will hate. It is your mission to end all life.” He disappeared into the night, content-perhaps- that his plans were one step closer to fruition.
AS the two-legger left, the stallion was overcome by the strongest burning pain he had ever felt. His bones, his blood, his every individual hair was on fire. It was overwhelming. He wanted to scream when he remembered a lesson he had as a foal. The stallion that sired him had beat him near to death… you are a kalona, boy. Kalona’s don’t show fear or pain, or weakness. We are above all of that. Make the pain your own, own it and don’t let it overpower you. Those were the stallion’s last words before his son followed his advice, overcame and tore his throat out, delighting in the cascade of blood that poured forth drenching his coat.
Remembering that advice, Ne’iga battled the pain, and the hazy red fog that clouded his vision and memories. He hadn’t let his sire kill him, he wouldn’t let some pathetic two-legger accomplish that feat. He refused to die. One thought passed through his mind clearly, one thought to hold onto to combat the pain. The pelted two-legger would pay. The world would pay for the pain he was forced to endure.
How they would all pay.
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Posted: Fri Mar 27, 2009 8:03 am
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Every light casts a shadow...
SW's name: Merle
SW's Temper: Vigilante
Prompt Response:
Merle blinked painfully from the dust flung into her starlit eyes and shook her head, angry that any human would pull a prank like that and ready to attack whoever had done such a low trick. A red haze covered her vision and her eyes felt like they were aflame with the hottest of forest fires. Screaming, she pawed at the ground and rubbed at her eyes, trying to make the fires go away.
A silvery blue shape flashed across her burning eyelids. What--? She slowly recognized the pure form of her alicorn mother who'd abandoned her as a filly. She reared, intending to attack the so-called mother, despite her blinding pain. What was that witch doing here? That mare had slept beside a half Kalona and left him and her children when none had her wings and horn...left them to the wolves outside the cave...and a demon of a father who shoved his own children toward the wolves in an attempt to save his own scaly hide. Her father was standing next to her mother, both smiling at her. She'd kill them, right here and now. She screamed again and pawed the air, preparing to charge them, the killers of her innocent baby brother, the ones who'd thrown them to the wolves and left her all alone to suffer alone and watch the neighboring Kalona commit their usual atrocities. Never. Ever. Forgive. Unforgivable.
Her mother and father's figures sizzled as in a dry heat and faded as she saw the equally detestable figures of the Kalona stallions who'd attacked her or tried to take their pleasures with her. She didn't break her stride as she charged in a blind fury toward her tormentors, screaming her fury and doom upon the hazy figures sizzled in and out of existence...eventually leaving her alone in the frozen, uncaring moonlight and starlight.
That was her motto, she remembered as she opened a more deeply furred eyelid to reveal an eye far less sane than before she'd seen that accursed two-leg. Never. Ever. Forgive. Unforgivable. What was life for if Soquili were going to give birth to you, abandon you, feed you to the wolves who'd been lured by the scent of your basket so they could escape, maul you to their hearts' delight, and then finally take their pleasure with you, leaving you with brats you would yourself sooner hurl to the wolves than take care of? So. If that was life, then she would spare all Soquili the suffering and kill them now. If they were going to insist on living sinful lives only to torture their kind, Merle would be merciful and save them the torment by ending their lives, and when she had succeeded, she would end her own without a second thought. She would break this curse of life for all time, she told herself as she laughed a bitter, insane laugh to the icy, trembling stars in the heavens.
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Posted: Fri Mar 27, 2009 8:04 am
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There are places in the heart that do not yet exist; suffering has to enter in for them to come to be.
SW's name: Megapi Long story. Don't ask.
SW's Temper: Vindictive
Prompt Response: Megapi winced in agony as his world turned crimson red. He reared up, slashing at the air with his hooves, desperately trying to fend off the memories as they trickled over his horns and across his eyes, searing through the mist like a burning branch in a firestorm.
His parents were dead. Their blood leaking across the earth, soaking into the ground. Gently, the colt pressed his nose to his mother's heart, his wings folded tight against his body. He didn't know he could feel this pain...it was worse than any scratch he had ever endured...Feeling limp with sorry, he turned his head towards his uncle. The stallion sighed and turned towards Megapi.
"Why do we die?" Megapi asked, his heart achingly slow in his ribs.
"Because there is evil in the world," his uncle replied. His blue eyes were soft and he nosed his brother gently. "There will always be death as long as their is evil, Megapi. Come away." His tail wrapped around the colt and he lead him away from his parents.
But that was years ago! Back before everything had happened! What has this human done to me?! I will not die here! Megapi let out a scream that ripped across the sky.
He dug his horns into the other stallion, punching into his throat as the blood oozed across his scalp. His enemy let out a last strangled cry before falling limp on Megapi's horns. With a snort, the kalona stallion tossed his head, ripping through the skin to drop his parents' murderer to the ground. "That's what you're dealing with," Megapi snapped. "Death. I am Megapi, and I will bring justice to eradicate death!" He allowed himself a small smile before leaving the body for the vultures. What have I done? he asked himself. I've brought death...I am evil myself... He shook his head. He was not evil. How could he be evil? He was merely bringing justice...and justice was good...
Megapi shook his head desperately, trying to dislodge the memories as they rushed back at him. He knew what came next. "No..." he whispered desperately. "Please..."
Megapi gazed at the mountains. That's where the lions had come from. The cats who had killed his mate. I can't go on without you...Essat... He felt like his eyes would burn away, burn away into nothingness. Megapi gulped and lowered his head to the ground. He wished he were a wolf. He wished he were a wolf and could track them like a wolf. But he was not; he had a good sense of smell, but nothing compared to that of a canine. "I'm coming to avenge you, my Essat..." Megapi whispered, and with that, he galloped along the trail, lowering his head every so often to pick up the stench of meat that was a mountain lion.
It took him until dark to find them. A mother and her cubs, nearly full-grown. Trying not to look at the half-eaten horse carcass, he leaped off a boulder, flapping his wings to get airborne. The cats snarled and pounced towards him. He lowered his head and caught the first, an unwary cub, with his horns, throwing it with a flick of his head at another boulder. The cat went limp and slid brokenly down the rock with a snap. Megapi easily took the other cubs, kicking them in their ribs. Only the mother remained. She landed on his back gracefully and dug her claws in. Nimbly the stallion flipped over, ignoring the pain from the claws. He battered her relentlessly, cursing her with all the words he knew. Finally, she fell with a yowl, desperately slashing at midair to catch him again. He whinnied in pain as her claws dug three slashes over his eyes. Then, with a thud, she landed on the ground. He plunged after her, landing his full weight on her spine...
That was all over now. He had mourned for his mate for so long...his mate...Essat...she was...she was...beautiful? Yes...she was a palomino, quite lovely...lovely...
Who was this lovely palomino, her blue eyes fading across his vision? Who was she? She was dead...this mare was dead. What mare? Megapi squeezed his eyes shut, his memories fading. I wish I were a wolf to track the cats... And after that, he remembered nothing.
Justice is good. Death is bad. But justice brings bad, so they are one and the same. A false dichotomy. Therefore, there is no good or evil, only death...and I am death's servant, for as long as he'll have me.
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Posted: Fri Mar 27, 2009 8:50 am
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There are places in the heart that do not yet exist; suffering has to enter in for them to come to be.
SW's name: Nabudis
SW's Temper: Forsaken
Prompt Response:
You think you know me...?
"Oh please, a male who is incapable of holding his own against a mere colt is pitiful!" The voice echoed within his ears, piercing his chest. Emotions threatened to explode from deep within the pit of his stomach and yet he stood still. The blood the seeped from his open wounds seemed to bring him some sense and discipline. He was loathe to admit it but he had been defeated, a humiliated duel that had torn his reputation asunder and left him a laughing stock to his gathered comrades. What made it worse was that it had been a simple mistake, one that a child would make and not a trained warrior. His comrades may have sneered and his reputation may have been ruined but the humiliation of his loss tore through him with far more vigour than any word they could utter. His own pride threatened to shatter him completely.
That...was how it had started, or at least that was what he recalled.
Shortly after his downfall the stallion had found inner strength and had steeled himself for what must be done. He would not argue that he had been pitiful in that duel, there was no excuse for his failing and consequently he had taken his leave. He had sworn upon his own honour and his family name that he would return and reclaim his position in society. His mother had spurned him, his father had looked away in disgust - it was all terribly cliche. However instead of bowing down and accepting his new lowly position he had taken a different path. Ahh yes, that ridiculous quest to 'find oneself' that he'd heard the lesser kinds speak of. He had always found their attempts to be pathetic but now that he was in the same position he could see merit in their arguments - time away from the herd and those who sneered would be a time to improve and to regather his composure... it would be a time to grow stronger.
Stronger, faster...
Suffice to say all this had gone very well, he had been given the 'peace and quiet' to hunt as he pleased and to train on the whim. The wounds had healed, the muscles had become further defined by his constant sessions. The pride that had been leaning precariously over the edge of a jagged rock face now took a step back and chastised him for his previous weakness. With each passing day his demeanour shifted and while the confidence still remained that fool hardy edge that had torn him asunder was slowly drifting away but there was still something missing and he couldn't quite put his hoof on it. Needless to say, he hadn't needed to.
They say that the fates have an unusual way of operating within the world of mortals, slowly drawing key figures together and then simply letting them walk a little further down the road until they collide. Mortals care to call it 'coincidence', Angeni didn't seem to have that word in their vocabulary and this particular Kalona had initially considered it 'lunch'. It would be safe to say that the events that had transgressed were something he'd ever even thought were possible. The human covered in a thick pelt and scarcely any other clothing had spoken, what made it even more bizarre was that Nabudis had completely understood it. Actually he had understood quite a few things, he would have admitted that the words he spoke were similar to those whispered by a lover - everything you wanted to hear and more. He promised power, god-like power... He had cooed endlessly about this overwhelming strength and more interestingly the ability to shift at will between 'forms' - forms that would apparently make him even more devastating and all he had to do was one simple thing.
It was as though all the pieces within the puzzle had fallen into place. His thoughts were so clear, everything made sense and for such a ridiculously low price. It was perfect. It was ideal and it was exactly what he needed to restore his position in his herd.
How little he knew.
He had agreed of course and the human had seemed to release an almost delighted squawk at the acceptance of his proposition. From that point on things had become hazy, the memories of his life slowly drifting away as though a small twig within a flood-swollen river. They were leaving him and the clarity of each memories as he recalled it was questionable. He could remember bits and pieces, largely irrelevant in his eyes as the dust burned against his skin and seemed to light his chest on fire. Yet in a manner of speaking, with each passing memory came a new type of clarity. They had jeered and cajoled him, they had questioned his intelligence and jested in relation to his strength...to them he was predictable, to them he would not amount to anything after his loss.
Something shifted within him, things snapped here and there and the pride he had recovered from the precarious cliff face began to twist and warp. They were the pathetic ones, they had believed he could amount to nothing and yet he had found this power! The laughter and jeering... He would return it but in a much more 'artistic' manner. There was so much potential and with every quivering limb within his body the sly smile seemed to twist and grow ever deeper. His eyes glistened with anticipation and the pain that had seared through his flesh seemed to evaporate has his imagination ran wild.
...The forests would look beautiful, the intestines of those forsaken fools strewn across the branches like tinsel. Their hearts carefully impaled upon branches while the wings of offspring swung like wind chimes from the more low lying tree beams. Oho it would be just like Yuletide! No, it would be better than Yule. Ahhhh yes, he would make them bow, walk towards him on their knees and beg for mercy. He would shatter their pride, and one by one deplete their numbers until those that were left felt it more fitting to impale themselves upon the jagged spikes - a fitting sacrifice to his power if he did not say so himself.
He gave a squawk of his own at this.
You think you know me...?
His eyes glistened though his vision remained hazy.
You thought you knew me!
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Posted: Fri Mar 27, 2009 8:55 am
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KALONA FORM
There are places in the heart that do not yet exist; suffering has to enter in for them to come to be.
SW's name: Erebus
Latin form of Greek Erebos, meaning "darkness." In mythology, this is the name of the offspring of Chaos, brother of Nyx, and father of Æther. He is the personification of primordial darkness. In later legends Erebos became the name of a place in Hades, the underworld.
SW's Temper: Malevolent (wanting to cause harm)
Prompt Response: (457 words)
Erebus writhed in pain, helplessly curled upon the ground as his screams left his lips as silent gushes of wind. Why had he agreed to this? The temptation of power and strength had been too strong a lure for him, how weak, yet as the fire burned through his body, wriggling like an unwanted serpent, the heat became unbearable- he could feel his mind closing, images of his past flashing in his mind, surround by the flames of the curse as it consumed everything he once was.
It was then that he saw the face of his nemesis, boring in his skull as the unwanted memory it was. Yet the image forced a flood of other memories to march forth, an army of the unwanted, the unneeded, proof of his weakness. They were in that fateful field once more, the sun shinning down upon them, mocking him for losing the battle- a battle he could not afford to lose. Flung to floor like a meaningless ragdoll. Although it was now a decade since he had been forced into exile he could still remember the bitter taste of defeat, he had sought too much to quickly, a greed that he was not strong enough to fill at the time at least- even now, as these painful memories danced within his mind he could feel the burning sensation leaving a mark of power within him.
Perhaps that was the reality behind his acceptance, he had not forgotten his humiliation, and it followed him around, the disapproving eyes of his prey before he killed. Their flesh was tainted then, no longer as sweet as he anticipated. He longed to forget, to prove his worth and take his place at the top of the food chain once more.
It was as that thought left his mind that he began to think clear once more. The burning was starting to subside, his muscles flexing with a strange sense of power, an energy he did not recognise. Exhilarating.
Standing to his feet once more he felt the surge, more welcomes now, snarling he looked to the mountains, everything from the world he once cared so much about seemed meaningless now. Looking to the sky he noticed how bright the full moon seemed, enchanting, before he could stop himself he felt a low growl erupted from his mouth, echoing in the sudden silence. He was terrifying, he was sure of that, he was also sure that it was time to move on. Feast in a new hunting ground. Hunting urges bubbled within him, blood, lust and an unspoken pain now consumed him as he began to run. One thought passed his mind over and over again.
He would show the world the meaning of evil. |
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Posted: Fri Mar 27, 2009 10:29 am
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Every light casts a shadow...
SW's name: Tumaini
SW's Temper: Amused
Prompt Response:
"Stop it!" She yelled, her voice laced with agony as she rolled around on the ground, her pelt covered with dirt and grass as she thrashed about, fighting for her life like a fish out of water. She knew that there was nobody around; she was all alone with that... That two-legger. Her eyelids fluttered open as she tried to look at him, but the light of the moon seemed to sting them, burn them.
When she squeezed her eyes shut again, all that she could see was a fog as red as blood, and all she could hear was a tiny and familiar voice at the back of her head, calling for her...
"Hey, you alright?"
"What happened..."
"Oh! You're awake!" The voice sounded so high and cheery that it made the half-unicorn feel faint, and she closed her eyes, drifting back to the realm of the unconscious once again; the last thing she heard was that very same voice calling for her, and a soft nudge to her belly.
The red fog drew closer, enveloping her, swallowing her, consuming her entire being... Yet she was unable to run away like she usually do. All she could do was to roll about helplessly as the pain kept intensifying, refusing to subside. There was no room in her mind to think of anything other than the pain she was going through, but flashbacks of her life came relentlessly anyway...
When was the last time she cried like this?
"You are Tumaini, right?"
"Yes..."
"Glad that you're awake again! The name's Karous... I chased the two-leggers away and healed you," The unicorn stallion grinned happily, giving a proud nod of his head. Then, he nudged Tumaini gently with his hoof, gesturing for her to stand up, "Come, you need to drink some water... You lost quite an amount of blood from your injuries." He smiled kindly, pausing before he softly added, "Do they try to capture you often?"
"Oh... Thank you..." She blushed, taking in a deep breath as she stood up slowly, her muscles aching from running... Escaping... She closed her eyes, chasing the negative thoughts away. At the stallion's question, Tumaini nodded, opening her eyes as she bowed her head in embarrassment, "I... I... I never tried to fight back, that's why..."
Karous looked shocked, stomping his hoof on the ground as he gave a defiant shake of is head, "Why not? We unicorns have to protect ourselves, especially our horns! The greedy two-leggers are always after it... They truly have no respect for us! What about your herd?"
"I don't have... The power to..." She smiled sheepishly, her blush more obvious than before.
She was the 'odd one out' of the family, frail since birth and the only one who had inherited her father's unicorn horn, despite the irony. Every other one of her siblings looked like their grounded mother, and were never hunted down like she was... Secretly, she had always admired the peaceful life they led from a distance; after all, due to her weak body, she spent her foal-hood alone, watching by the side as the other foals play.
Despite the dangerous life she led because of it, her siblings were jealous of her unicorn horn and her abilities. A season after their parents passed away, she was driven out of the family herd. Without protection and shelter, the two-leggers took every opportunity they had to claim her father's 'gift' to her as their own - she was tired to live on but afraid of death, so she could only run and hide...
"I'll just have to protect you forever then!"
That one sentence opened up a new path for her, and brought her both her best and worse memories... He soon became both an older brother and her first, as well as final, crush. Needless to say, Karous was obvious to her feelings, having his eyes set on the daughter of the alpha of his herd, a beautiful and sweet unicorn; with his wits and cheerful disposition, Tumaini could only watch as he quickly won the heart of his love... And she was there, cheering for him all the way, hiding her own broken heart.
When they officially became mates, Tumaini decided it was too painful to continue the life she led and decided to leave. After all, during her stay in Karous' herd, she had healed various other Soquili, tutored by the elder Unicorns; however, she knew no unicorn would be able to heal the wounds on her heart... It was something that would only heal over time, and with her own efforts.
When she became all alone again, the nightmare of being the prey was revived; that was why she had followed him! The two-legger in the pelt... He had spoken to her, understood her! She had followed him happily, glad for company even when instinct begged her to flee. He had promised to make her stronger, give her the power to defend and protect herself from her pursuers... To help her erase her painful past.
He offered her a chance to be reborn, and she had accepted with a smile, not prepared for what came next... It was like her life was slowly slipping away, and all she could do is to scream and scream and scream... Then there was silence. Even the wind stopped, and every blade of grass was still; there was a sort of tension in the air, as if even mother nature itself was waiting for something to happen.
"Tumaini."
She had hissed the words, and to her, it sounded like the first word of a child, meaningless and out of the blue... However, a child was the last thing she felt like at the moment; on the other hand, a child was what she had in mind... A child to chase before tearing up sounds mildly amusing, after all. At the thought, she smiled and quickly frowned; why did her lips twitch upwards?
Dismissing it, she yawned, her feline tail curling around her hind leg as she looked around her, wondering what she was doing lying down on the grass... She shrugged to herself, closing her eyes; maybe addressing herself as a 'Tumaini' would gradually help attract others to her; why go on the hunt when prey offers themselves to you? She giggled, stopped, and giggled again; although it was a weird sound, it seemed to fit the occasion.
"Did she run here?"
"I'm sure of it! I saw her come here... We will return victorious!"
Her ears twitched at the noise, her eyes quickly opened as she peered through the darkness of night; she could see two figures approaching, beings with two legs that walk upright... How convenient, she thought with a wag of her tail. Were they looking for her? How adorable, thinking their strength can match hers! Narrowing her eyes, she let out a loud cry and laid motionlessly on the grass, as if she was badly hurt.
"There! I hear her! She sounds like she is in great pain; maybe she was caught in one of our traps."
"Lets hurry! The village will celebrate when we bring the horn back... We will be heroes!"
Her mouth watered as their scent became stronger, and the hair on her back bristled with excitement; she could stand it no longer! With a loud cheer, she leaped up and galloped towards the two-leggers, saliva rolling down her maw and dripping off as she flung herself at one of the two prey, the force causing him to fly backwards. The other prey, upon seeing her, was frozen on the spot; with a giggle, she knocked him towards his friend, smiling when they fell on top of each other.
"My, my! Can't have the two of you like that." Tumaini blinked, smiling as she cantered towards her two prey. Using her hoof, she kicked the one on top off; there was a loud 'crack' as his ribs broke, but that only widened the skinwalker's smile, "Oh, was that kick too much, prey two? But you aren't even dead yet... Come, come! Look here at prey one!"
Although they didn't understand a word Tumaini was saying, the prey she kicked off had his head facing her; giggling, she placed her hoof on top of the head 'prey one', smiling as she stomped down with all her strength - once, twice, thrice... She stopped, rubbing the blood and gore off on the grass.
"Red is such a beautiful color," She whispered, bending down and licking at whatever was left of his skull. Then, she looked up, her tail swinging behind her as she stepped on the body of 'prey one' on her way to her other prey. When she neared 'prey two, she froze, looking confused at the sight of water leaking out of 'prey two's eyes. Curious, she bent down to take a taste, licking his face, almost gently at first... Then, suddenly, she staked her tongue into his right eye, the edges of her mouth twitching upwards. However, her smile was short-lived; it was salty. The female quickly kicked him away again, spitting out whatever she had in her mouth.
"Such a horrid taste!" She spat, rearing back as she narrowed her eyes with irritation. Then, she trotted over and crushed his skull as well, deciding not to feast on such a disgusting food... There will be plenty of chances to feed, after all; she smiled, closing her eyes as she took on her alternate form and slipped into the darkness.
Oh! It sure is fun, being the hunter!
There are places in the heart that do not yet exist; suffering has to enter in for them to come to be.
SW's name: Its
SW's Temper: Unconcerned
Prompt Response:
"You are the one they call Quirii?"
The kalona's ears twitched at his name, but he didn't look up; instead, he continued chewing on the tender flesh of the young rabbit he had caught earlier, his muzzle covered with blood from his dinner. He wanted to pass off as being disinterested, but it was a lie... He was in fact intrigued, for standing beside him was a two-legger that was able to speak his tongue... And foolish enough to approach a Kalona while he was feasting.
"I am Oyohusa, and I have a proposal... A proposal I would like to share with you tonight." The man continued with a chuckle that made Quirii's hair stand. Slowly, the stallion halted his chewing and finally looked up, staring into the eyes of the human that dared interrupt his meal - he expected the shaman to flee in fear, not to hold his glaze. However, that was exactly what happened.
"I shall make that your final wish, two legs!" Quirii narrowed his eyes and let out a growl as he stepped away from the half eaten rabbit and towards the human, licking the blood surrounding his mouth. Then, he grinned maliciously as he added, taking another step towards the man, "However, do be fast for I'm not one with patience."
The shaman only laughed as he grinned, digging into the pelt he was wearing before bringing out a small pouch, tied up with a string. Untying it, he held it out to Quirii, "This powder can grant your wishes... You wish to know what happened to the elder brother you admired, right?" He paused, pouring the power on his palm before closing it to form a tight fist, "This powder can bring you the answers to your questions. They will grant you with power far greater than your elder brother ever had... And allow you to change forms at will."
The kalona found himself listening attentively, his eyes darting from the powder in Oyohusa's hand to the face half covered by the pelt he was wearing. It sounded like the words of a mad man, although he somehow knew the story - of Soquili with the ability to change into another animal... However, how did he know? Before Quirii could reply, the shaman flung the powder at him; the split second before he inhaled the powder, before it touched him, Quirii only had one thing in his mind - to tear the two legger that had insulted him apart like a rag doll.
The split second after the power took its effect, however, Quirii found himself in the position of the 'rag doll' instead.
"I must say I'm not a patient one myself, Quirii."
The stallion heard the human laugh before he crashed to the ground, his whole body felt like it was in a furnace; is this how hell feels like? He yelled as the pain took hold and his eyeballs rolled backwards into their sockets, leaving only the eye whites visible. As he yelled and flailed about, he drifted into his own world... A world that he had long ago unconsciously pushed to the back of his mind in order to forget.
It was a night where the moon was full and stars dotted the dark purple sky... It was a night that was beautiful, but filled with regrets for the then young kalona - he was proud, a trait many of his kind has. However, he was also stubborn and inexperienced, refusing to listen to the advice of his elders and living only to boast of things he could only dream about, never bothering to train. He used his status as a kalona to scare and strike fear into the hearts of others, but never his own fighting abilities. They had always warned him that he will one day regret not training...
And regret it he did... That was why he had kept those memories hidden, forgotten.
The attack came without a warning - it was one against two, but the... The monster that they were fighting killed his elder brother's mate like she was a defenseless child when she was in fact a skilled kalona in her own right, having overcame many enemies. At witnessing his mate's death, his elder brother had fought the monster with only vengeance and the safety of Quirii in mind... He remembered it as the first and last time he felt afraid.
The monster was the same size as him, but he could tell that it wasn't a Soquili; it had paws with sharpened claws instead of hoofs, and a long wolf-like tail drenched in blood... In fact, the creature itself smelt of blood; the blood of many other creatures, presumably its past prey.
"Quirii! Survive!"
That was the message given to him by his elder brother, and he carried it out, running nonstop for the whole night, stopping only when he could no longer run... Yet the monster somehow caught up, stalking him in the form of a wolf. In front of his very eyes, the wolf turned into the monster that murdered his family and jumped at him; without prior training, he could only squirm and kick at the monster... And he died once that day.
When he woke up, he had forgotten everything - why he was away from home, why he was covered with wounds made by claws, and why he was lying half dead near a teepee where a kind medicine man lived. Despite being weary of the kalona who had suddenly showed up, the two-legger did save him - in return, Quirii left without causing any trouble.
When he reached 'home', however, he found his family members dead and half-eatened by scavengers... His proud family, experienced in offense and defense, dead? He could not, or rather, would rather not, remember who did it and why he was away during this time... However, after putting the dead to rest, Quirii changed - he became more hardworking, more eager to train and learn from his elders.
Nobody, not even him, knew why.
Now, as he is going to die a second time, he finally remembered why he decided to change... It was all because of the helplessness he felt that night! The monster that was able to change to a wolf! How he hated that monster for taking the only thing he had ever respected away from him! All those years he spent looking aimlessly for the murderer... He lived only to seek revenge and nothing else, never enjoying himself, never truly enjoying hunting like when he was young.
It was like he felt too guilty unconsciously to pursue his own path.
In frustration caused by his mental and physical pain, Quirii let out a bloodcurdling scream as death took him away again... But he wasn't dead; in fact, he was far from it.
"Mm..." He panted, his eyes closing before opening again as he stood up, stumbling a little, surprised that his legs felt weak. Looking at his surroundings, the stallion lifted his head as he sniffed the air; there was a faint scent of blood! He grinned, but it quickly became a frown when he realized that the smell came from an already dead rabbit.
"Its no fun when there's no chase," He smirked, starting on a trot that gradually became a gallop. As he jumped over a rock in his path, the stallion changed into the form of a fox; it felt natural for him to do that, yet strange at the same time... Shrugging it off, the skinwalker followed the scent of his prey - he could smell them, 3 different Soquili... They better run instead of making it easy for him, or it would be boring.
He jumped out of the bush and shifted into his Soquili form in front of the preys' eyes, letting out a cruel laugh, as he bared his teeth and spread out his wings, "Run, run! you're wasting your head start!"
"Its a monster!" One of them cried out, and chaos took over; they started running, but made the mistake of running in the same direction.
The skinwalker chuckled and shook his head, talking to himself, "Hm... 'Its'? Is that how others prefer to address me? A monster... Such a compliment!"
To the skinwalker, running together only meant that he could take down all three at the same time... How boring. He faked a yawn before he begun the chase, biting and ramming his prey until they fell, one by one. Then, Its dragged them together and gutted each one while they were alive, making sure that there was always at least one watching their companion in agony.
As the screams faded away, and silence returned to the forest, he turned away, looking disappointed at his hunting experience; there was no thrill, no excitement, no sense of satisfaction. As he once again took the form of a fox, he muttered to himself as he darted back into the undergrowth, "Not enough... Never enough."
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