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 Posted: Tue Dec 22, 2009 8:41 am
 She moved quietly, just another shadow in the bleak landscape. Engulfed by the darkness, only a small sliver of the moon hung in the sky as a guide and soon it to would be gone. She smiled, one that was full of sharp teeth, teeth that like to snap and bite and tear and rip. There was something slightly unsettling about the doe, the faint smell of the dead, the beady four eyes on her head, the gnarled horns – like a tree’s roots, only sharper. Her brother, her twin, she knew he loved the moon – perhaps love wasn’t the right work, but he truly felt something for it, and it wasn’t that she didn’t… Another smile, she just enjoyed the darkness more.
The doe wrapped herself in the shadows, it was an odd sort of feeling, to allow your body to submerge and meld into the nothingness/. Only four red eyes could pierce threw the darkness, only four red eyes alerted a stranger to her presence. She had heard passing heartbeats like this, fast ones, feverish and fearful. She could not hear a heartbeat now. Perhaps she lacked one. That was certainly an entertaining thought, a fine thought indeed. Or perhaps she simply couldn’t hear the faint beat of morality under the hissing of the shadows. Did she really hear shadows? She thought she did, but perhaps it was merely a riddling, inner presence, another side of her. Perhaps she was bipolar. Perhaps she was insane. Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps.
Perhaps, in the end, nothing mattered.
The doe closed her eyes and let the smell, the scent of rot, decay, of beetles chewing at the skin, consume her.
(Bah, sorry it's not very good)
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Posted: Sun Dec 27, 2009 11:03 pm
What a wonderful night! Such a lovely, dark thing it was! Apart from the brightness of the moon, that is. But then again, without a sliver of white light to illuminate his frame, Manslaughter would not have had the same intimidating effect on others, now would he? No, not at all. He didn't mind the moon. Not too much anyway. But the shadows... he loved the shadows. They whispered to him as if all they were, were a collective entity of spirits that would hold and caress him lovingly.
He took a deep breath, introduced a lungful of the cool night's air in full of the smell of delicious death and decay. And there it was. A howl, up ahead somewhere. A smile cracked this demon's features before his own lips changed shape and he joined in, adding his own howl to the one already sounding.
And what a cold sound it was, what a wonderfully chilling sound. It was deep and seemed to shake the air, surely sending shivers down the spines of everything that could hear it.
Manslaughter stood atop that massive fallen tree, belting out a few more howls, red eyes closed shut, tail wrapped around his leg, head tilted up to the sky. This was definitely going to be a good night.
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Posted: Mon Dec 28, 2009 9:55 am
There was a cry, no; there were two howls in the night. Sharp – like the snapping of bones – and hollow. There was no remorse in that cry, no love, nothing. There was only a warning – was it even a warning? It was more of a blatant statement, here I am – and here I come.
Oh, and she could feel it, wrapped in the shadows, the fear that was slowly rippling through the air. The small movement, hurried, muffled flights of tiny creatures, the wary breath of other kimeti. Yes, she was sure she was not alone, not physically anyways. She didn’t move, her limbs were at ease here in the slickness of the night. The shadows, they fed off her, she fed of them, they whispered stories to her, enveloped her. She was safe in the night; she was safe in the shadows.
Her head raised itself to the sky – dark and swallowed, a perfect night save that small glimmer of moonlight. Moonlight was a useless thing, the only thing that separated her from the shadows on nights like this, the only thing that drew her away. Such a stupid thing the moon was.
But she wasn’t afraid of this new voice in the dark. She smelt of death, she smelt of the dead, she looked of the shadows – she was something here but entirely not at the same time. She was not afraid.
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Posted: Mon Dec 28, 2009 8:49 pm
 One more howl to finish up the cacophony that had erupted. There. That felt much better. The dark buck brought his head back down to take a glance around the shadows. He didn't see them, but he didn't need to: he knew. He knew that there were critters running terrified right then. He felt the fear emanating from the tiny bodies. He could smell the horror and sweat coming off of nearby-kimeti, cowering in the trees. Excellent. Truly an excellent introduction, he would think.
Manslaughter could hear crashing up ahead, low down to the ground, accompanied by the unmistakable sound of panting. There she is! Two red eyes scanned the place where the sounds were coming from, looking to pick out the movement up ahead. There! He took off at a gallop, chasing the noises that he knew to be his familiar, knowing this was a silly race to heighten the adrenaline.
What was that? An ear swivelled back as the tall buck threw his legs out stiffly and skid to a graceful stop, leaving long trenches in the mud. His tail flicked back and forth, eyes glistening evilly as he scanned the trees and the shadows. He could feel the presence of another, but he couldn't quite place it... He turned around and squinted his eyes a little, peering into the dark, trying to pick out a shape. His own figure was illuminated by a sliver of silver, so he thought he should be able to find that on the other... The one that felt no fear...
He sniffed harshly and stepped heavily, head high in his search, until he saw it. Just a sliver, but enough to make a vague outline, easily overlooked. One of his eyebrows rose as he realized what he was seeing: a doe dark as the shadows. Calmly and surely he spoke out to her in his cold, itching voice, "Greetings, love." What more was there to say?
His faithful hound was lurking in the bushes behind Manslaughter, watching the scene unfold with her own glowing red eyes.
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Posted: Wed Jan 27, 2010 4:23 pm
She had watched him pass lazily, features blurring and slurring, passing before she could truly get a clear picture of him. The buck was merely a swirl of red and coal. That colouring did, however, land him a more tolerant spot in her small heart. There was a strange sort of affinity one shared with those of their colour. Ha! Skyeater’s mouth curled into a toothless grin, what nonsense. Though the sadness of the matter was the fact that some does and bucks thought such things sincerely. Some creatures were delusional, pathetic thing.
She closed one pair of four glowing eyes, watching without little care. He was gone, he was a passing thing, he was –
Talking to her.
Skyeater would admit that she had not intended on being found. Wrapped in her cocoon of shadows, melting in with them, being one of them – it was rare she was noticed by strangers. They looked past her, through her, beyond her – never saw her coming. Oh what fools they were. However, this was one, he was aware. It sent a tremor down her spine, this foreign event. How odd, how interesting, something new was unraveling, someone had decided to come and play with her. Delightful.
“Tell me, darling,” the mouth spread into a twisted grin, “are you the hunted or the hunter tonight?” For how easily the tides could change, how easily the tables could turn, how easily it could all come crashing down. Even the most meticulous of plans had their flaws; the most persuasive of kimeti clutched their dark secrets tightly. None of them were perfect. None of them lacked have the hunger inside their depths, the thirst for something better, something darker. But few embraced it. Few could look the monster in the eyes and tame it. There was the smallest of pities in her hearts for those that lacked knowledge of this inner beast, after all, it was an unavoidable – one day the beast would bare his fangs, and they would be left as a broken shell of a past self.
Her second set of eyes snapped open, and the wicked grin only grew.
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Posted: Wed Jan 27, 2010 9:52 pm
The tall buck assessed the scene unfolding before and all around him. His eyes continued to scan over the darkling in front of him, his ears trained on her also. One should never be unprepared for the unexpected; something he would occasionally tell the less fortunate kimeti that met him, this bit of advice. Not that he was all-knowing, or anything of the sort, he just... well, he sometimes felt like he should inform the mis-guided of their unfortunate predicaments.
She was calm and just as collected as he was, though if he was not mistaken, there had been a moment of... surprise? Delight? But it had passed, so he wouldn't have put it past himself to have imagined such a thing. Emotions are such an obscure thing, after all. Not to be trusted, but to be controlled instead.
Her grin inspired one of his own as he responded, "I am the Hunter, of course, love. Wouldn't have it any other way, though... I would suppose that could change depending on my company...? His voice lilted upwards into a sort of question, but he merely licked his lips and continued, "Would I be in the presence of a Huntress, dark as foulest night? For that would envy my status, indeed." He complimented the shadow barely visible to the eye, hoping to lure the creature to indulge his curiousity. This thin line he walked quite often, and had found that it could lead to more answers should he play nice.... if only for a little while...
A nudge to one of his back legs brought his thoughts back down to the conversation, and the hound merely snuck back into the bushes to lurk. "But where are my manners! A mistress of the shadows deserves to know my name. Manslaughter..." a slight pause as he regally lowered his head, keeping his glowing eyes trained on hers, "Might I know the name of this night's Huntress?" His voice had a twist of laughter to it, as if these 'manners' amused him. He figured that this Other would appreciate such a mockery of the general species, of it's hilarious weakness and fear.
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Posted: Thu Jan 28, 2010 5:23 pm
He spoke formally, decorating his phrases with unnecessary embellishments. It was but a guise, she knew that much. Between the lines of that fancy dialect there was a beast. He was a creature as monsterous as herself, or perhaps even worse. Perhaps that would be his weakness in whatever plan he was scheming – her mind worked like his, and Skyeater was of the opinion he was an inferior creature, or at most her equal. She knew as well as any other to never put trust in the hooves of another (though, she would admit there was a sole except to this law she had created for herself: her twin), you knew no one as well as you knew yourself. You could only trust yourself.
His sweet words and extravagant titles would be lost on her, she would not be coaxed out of her dark shelter. Perhaps a little bit, but not fully, for it was safe here, cold here, home here. He was a hunter, or so he thought, and a hunter always went for the kill.
“Manslaughter,” she echoed quietly, her voice even and plain – there was no need to give him any emotions of fear or admiration to this buck., he hadn’t either of those yet. Still, there was a certain hold his name had. It slid easily out of mouth, and left a sensation in her mind. How interesting. There was a certain power those three syllables had, they seemed to demand an silence, coax a surge of fear out of your heart. It was a shame Skyeater lacked a heart.
“I am no Huntress, no, I am but darkness. The shadow that flits through your soul, the malicious deed that coos to you from the back of your mind, this is what I am,” her neck slithered out of the darkness, donning a thin veil of moonlight, “I do not play your games, not the way you play them. Why should I chase things that will come to be willingly?” Her grin only stretched wider.
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Posted: Fri Jan 29, 2010 9:08 pm
He lifted his head once more when she repeated his name, as if she were tasting it, dissecting it even. He would have said she approved of his name, and rightly she should! He donned his name proudly, and would teach the inferior creatures of the Swamp to agree should they be foolish enough to contest this.
But this Shadow was something different. Something he had not yet encountered in the swamp, something unexpected, something interesting. She spoke of herself as part of the darkness in the Swamp, and there was no argument there. Her coat was pitch black, flawless and angrily tousled where it's edges were visible, she was a terror, no doubt. Manslaughter grinned wider at the thought of other kimeti baying with fear at this one's voice haunting them out of seemingly no-where.
He nodded at her words and a hollow-sounding laugh escaped him, guttural and scratchy. "Ah, but that is half the fun, my dear! The Chase is about the most exhilarating thing one might ever do! Though, admittedly, I do like to stalk my prey quietly, when the feeling serves." A playful spark came into his eye, as if there were deep dark secrets hidden in there.
She had not revealed her name, but Manslaughter could be patient... not for very long, truthfully, as he was a buck of action, but should it serve him better, he could be patient. This is what he gathered that the doe possessed in abundance that he did not: patience. He also knew that this creature was one of the darkest, most heart-less in Mother Swamp, and one to reckon his own cunning and evil. His tail flicked back and forth lazily and he licked his lips once more, thinking.
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