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 Posted: Fri Oct 16, 2009 7:48 am
Intense silence as she walked in the room
Her black robes trailing--Sister of the Moon
And a black widow spider makes more sound than she
And black moons in those eyes of hers made more sense to me
Heavy persuasion; it was hard to breathe
She was dark at the top of the stairs
She called
Out to me!
My name is Ebony Pardus, and welcome to my world.
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Posted: Fri Oct 16, 2009 7:50 am
Navigational Chart
I My Name is Ebony Pardus, and Welcome to My World
II Navigational Chart
III All About Ebony
IV Ebony's Adventures
V Ebony's World
VI Ebony's Story
VII--XV Reserved
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Posted: Fri Oct 16, 2009 7:57 am
 General Information:
Name: Ebony Pardus
Aliases: Ebony
Gender: Female
Quote:
Likes: Magic, hunting, darkness, her native language, dancing
Dislikes: Bright light, vegetables, priests, English
About: Ebony is a powerful sorceress who has dabbled in many different fields. Her room is full of all manner of paraphernalia associated with her craft; the rafters are hung all over in occult fetishes.
At first, Ebony may appear cold, distant, aloof, and mysterious, but as you get to know her, you realize that it's only "this strangely speaking-tongue," and she is, underneath it all, a warm, friendly person who enjoys helping other people. It's surprising how warm she is, considering her traumatizing past...
Relationships:
Parents: ??? x ???
Siblings: Macaw Pa'das
Mate: Luaith
Offspring: Lilura Ker, Lamia, Orichalcum, Ixtab, Mana, Itzli
Adopted Offspring: Alexial, Miroslav, Coven
Friends: Luaith
OOC Information:
Status: Taken
Posts in: purple
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Posted: Fri Nov 06, 2009 11:44 pm
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Posted: Sat Nov 07, 2009 10:32 pm
Ebony's World
Relations
Friends
Enemies
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Posted: Sat Nov 07, 2009 10:34 pm
Ebony's Story
As translated by Matt
It was a walled-in community, the temple to the in the eastern side of the compound on a hill against the mountain and the village sitting in its lap. The community was the only place the light could be seen in the jungle around us. Every household did the work the priests ordered them to do. If you were strong, you were a laborer; if you were quick, you were a hunter. If you were intelligent, you kept your head down and played the fool—especially if you were a female. Especially if you didn’t like men.
When I emerged, like all kits, I was taken to an under-priest. My parents worried about my ankle wings; no one in my family had ankle wings, and they weren’t sure what would happen to me. Many priests had the ankle wings, and their daughters had them, too—they became dancers that moved and swayed to please the gods. My family weren’t priests, though—what would happen to them? Would they be punished for having a daughter with the sacred wings? The priest soothed their fears. No, he said. No, we won’t punish you—we should reward you for having a daughter with the ankle wings sacred to the gods! They let them raise me for a little while, then they took me to the caverns to teach me how to dance. Dance for the gods, they told us. Dancers disappeared sometimes—they’d learn, get good at it, and they’d just…disappear. Some of the less, how shall I put it, pretty? ones reappeared later; they married priests, had sons with the wings who became priests, daughters with the wings who became dancers…the cycle seemed endless, except for the truly pretty ones.
I was one of the best—and the prettiest. So good, so beautiful, in fact, that the high priest ordered me to come to the temple to dance for the gods. I was nervous, I didn’t think I was good at it yet—and I was even more nervous when I saw that I was the only dancer and the room was full of priests. I did my dance, and they seemed impressed. The high priest came down from his throne to compliment me…
…And he jumped on me and raped me. In the temple. In front of the altar, in front of the gods, in front of the entire clergy. I thought I’d die. I wished I’d die, especially when other priests got up and did the same to me, over, and over, and over again, for how long I do not know. I was left alive, though—alive on the floor. But the high priest got more than he’d bargained for. As he stood over me in the end, laughing hard and telling me that I was a good girl to honor the gods, I reached up and grabbed his belt, ripping off an amulet. It was like nothing I’d ever seen before—it was made of some shiny metal that shone like the sun and a stone like the purple flowers in the forest, and was carved like nothing in our village. I could tell that it was not from this village.
He saw me, felt me, and, laughing, stomped on my paw, crushing it. The spike of the purple stone stabbed deep into my pawpad. I screamed in agony and the world went purple, dark, confusing, strange…a mist filled everything, and suddenly paws were taking mine, spinning me around and around, laughing.
Dance with us, Ebony, Ebony!
Dance with us, you know how!
Now you’re one of us! Now you’re one of us!
When the haze faded, I was in a cell. I had been taken into the bowels of the temple, deep underground. I was lost and confused. My body ached and the memory of my ordeal came back to me. I lay on the ground, staring, transfixed, at my still-bleeding paw. It took me a while to realize that part of my paw was glowing, shining in the light. The point of the amulet had broken off and gotten lodged in my paw. I pulled it out delicately, trying not to vomit at the sight of the blood pouring out, and tucked it into my collar.
I was alone in the cell until she came along. I didn’t know her name. I still don’t know her name. I will never know her name. But she was beautiful. She was beautiful. A common girl, a slave in the temple. I could tell she was a slave because she wasn’t from around here. Her family had been prisoners of war at some point—she had a very, very fluffy tail and tufts on her ears. She had wings, too, soft, feathery wings that had been broken and tied against her body so that she couldn’t use them. They were mangled and destroyed, but she was still beautiful. She came to me and spoke some of her language and some of mine, trying to comfort me. She’d seen this happen a couple times before, and she was worried for me. I could hardly believe that. She was so beautiful…
I was in love with her. I didn’t realize it at the time, but I know now that I had fallen deeply for this girl only a little older than me. And she loved me too. We would hold each other’s hands through the bars, steal kisses, share meals. She would bring me my meal everyday and bring her own meal as well. We would talk about our families and homes…The one thing we never talked about was our names. Everyone in the village knew the punishment for homosexuality was execution, often at the hands of the priests, for it was a Sin Against the Gods. I didn’t use to mind it; I didn’t really care. The gods didn’t like it, so they were sacrificed. Never before, however, had it been me, or my lover I saw on the altar. Never before had it been the same monsters who had ravaged my body, used it as a toy that would be holding the knife.
I tried to ask her what would become of me, but she didn’t know, either. Didn’t matter, though. Soon enough the high priest realized the amulet was broken and, after searching everywhere else, he decided that maybe I had it. He came down and caught us kissing. Infuriated, he had us both dragged up to the main part of the temple. He tied my love to the altar and stabbed her with the knife as I screamed for her. Once. Twice. Three times. Five times. Forehead, throat, heart, bowels, and below her waist. Then it was over. Her blood spilled over into a trough. My love was dead and everything was black. When the high priest turned, smugly, towards me and grabbed me by my collar to do the same to me…something snapped. I reached up, calmly, to grab at the same amulet, hanging once more on his belt. I snapped it off and, before he could react, I took the spike from my collar and touched the pieces back together once more.
I felt power course through me. Power. Power. Everything I need to do I suddenly could do. I could hardly feel the pain in my shoulders, in my scalp, as I stood up, breaking my chains, and threw the high priest onto the ground. I tore his throat out with a single shriek and I ran out of the temple behind the screaming priests, stopping only to pluck a few feathers from my lover’s wings, steal a kiss from her lips that already were turning cold.
I had to fly out in the end, when the soldiers came. But I stayed in the area. I came back later that night and stole into the high priest’s apartments. I stole anything and everything I could. Every book, every ceremonial knife, every device for performing his rituals. I knew what I could do with my power, with my magic. I could turn his tools against him, against his priesthood. I went down to where the dancers slept and I opened the doors, chasing them out. I would not let them stay in the temple where so much hurt had happened to so many of us before. Before I left for good, I went down to the temple, took my lover’s body, and, with a single screamed word, I brought the temple crashing down.
I buried her body in the forest. I held her against me and folded my new shoulder-wings around her. And I wept. I wept for so long that the sun had risen before I could put her in her grave with the cairns on top. After that, there was nothing for me. I wandered the world, picking up a few languages and staying only long enough for me to pick up what magic I could in the region. Yes, the amulet had given me magic. I couldn’t help but remember, though, that it had also destroyed me. Looking for it had gotten my lover killed. For that, I hated it. Hated it enough that I took the time and trouble to have it changed. I went to a jeweler and goldsmith and asked that the gold—for it was gold—be melted down into rings, and the amethysts, spike and all—for they were amethysts—be carved into circles. The amulet became my bangles, and without them, I could not have my magic. So long as they remain, I have magic. For that, I am grateful to them. I will not forget, though…I cannot forget…my love…
My first love. I wish I could talk with you one last time. I wish I could ask you for your name so that I can say it on my lips. I wish I could have your permission, my love, to love another…do you forgive me for loving another?
Yes. I think you do. Thank you.
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Posted: Sat Nov 07, 2009 10:42 pm
Name: Kurotok
Species: Dragon
Drink: Black Magic Sake
Gender: Male
Noodle: Ebony
Type: Pet/Familiar
About: Ebony's reasons for getting Kurotok were twofold: first, for her lessons in necromancy. Without the natural ability to perform the last piece of magical arts she hasn't yet mastered, she needs a [magical] familiar to help increase her power and anchor her to the living world as she attempts to communicate with the dead.
The other, and, secretly, more important reason, was to keep her mate's familiar, Ether, company. Considering how destructive Ether can be, that's a very important thing.
"Kurotok" means "death" in Ebony's native language.
Posts in: black with purple underline
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Posted: Sat Nov 07, 2009 10:47 pm
Ebony may appear at first to be an aloof, mysterious figure, but once you delve past that exterior--and that doesn't take long--she's a warm, helpful, motherly figure. She's a powerful sorceress and loves learning about new magic and using her abilities to help other people. Anyone who messes with her family, however, will be hit with the full force of her not-inconsiderable wrath.
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Posted: Sat Nov 07, 2009 10:56 pm
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Posted: Sat Nov 07, 2009 11:02 pm
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Posted: Sat Nov 07, 2009 11:05 pm
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Posted: Sat Nov 07, 2009 11:06 pm
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Posted: Sat Nov 07, 2009 11:11 pm
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Posted: Sat Nov 07, 2009 11:14 pm
 My family--not including former mates and mates who have not yet had children with mine.
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Posted: Sat Nov 07, 2009 11:18 pm
Breedings
[url=http://i305.photobucket.com/albums/nn230/xXxCrimson_ScourgexXx/hfnsf/Noodles/Luaith.png]Luaith[/url] x [url=http://i285.photobucket.com/albums/ll74/Geyser39/EbonyPardus.png]Ebony Pardus[/url]
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