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 Posted: Thu Jan 08, 2009 9:20 pm
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My, what big teeth you have!
Soq Name: Canidae (the family of Wolves)
Soq Temper: Tramatized
Wolf's Name: Familiaris (the subspecies name for domesticated dogs)
Story:
Pain blossomed over the shoulder of the tiny pup foal as a deep crack formed its way along the thin, brittle shoulder blade. A whimper was the only other sound that escaped as the pup foal backed away slowly, limping away as best he could, only stopping to collapse in the thicket. Quietly the tiny creature lay there and lapsed into a restless sleep…
Shouting woke the small creature. It was nothing unusual, this parents fighting. His shoulder was healed, or rather, it no longer hurt, at the vary least. He was able to stand, a bit shakily, and made his way out, cheerful like any child of his age. “Mommy! Daddy!” He called out to them, giggling happily. His mother happily nuzzled him, lightly nipping him in punishment for sleeping in so late. His father merely nodded and returned to his morning meal.
“Canidae, its time for breakfast, go clean up in the river and hurry back.” his little heaven sent mother commanded him gently. Always his rock, the kind mare was never far from him when he needed help walking, or gentle comforting after his nightly beatings.
As he ran off to the river he heard soft whimpering and being the curious child he was, he quickly hurried through the foliage until he found the source of the sound, a small pup. No larger then his own head, the creature was mostly likely the runt of the litter and, by the visible ribs, left for dead after being denied food by its siblings. Canidae lowered his ears as his rather large, wolfish tail, tucked under his rear in sadness. The poor creature. Carefully he lifted the baby by its scruff and turned, hurrying back through the trees and thicket to the little open clearing where his family spent their nights and early mornings.
“Mommy! Mommy!” He called as he burst in. Setting the shivering pup down he danced in his place. “I found him, all alone, can I keep him!?” he asked, almost bouncing with excitement.
“Go ahead, now get out of here.” Came the unexpected and gruff reply of the larger, dark stallion who had always been “daddy” to the foal. The intimidating stallion earned a odd look from his mate at such a odd statement.
“yay! Thank you Daddy!” Canidae cried before running off again to wash up before breakfast.
The pup foal grew quickly, as did the little runt. Only a few months from the union and both were larger and closer then ever before. The father slowly lessened his nightly beatings and the mother slowly grew more distant as the foal grew more attached to his little companion.
Darting through the trees during a routine game of tag, Canidae searched the forest for the small little Familiaris. His giggles could be heard, often stirring birds from their sleep, for miles and his little hooves startled and terrified the local rabbits and mice. “Fam! Fami!” He called out, waiting for the farmillar yip and giggle from the little wolf. His ears perked up at a small sound and then shot down as the tiny noise escalated into a full blown racket. He took off in the direction of home.
What he heard was a scream…
Breaking into the clearing he froze as he saw the most unbelievable scene he could ever imagine. His father, the terror of his life, lay gutted like a fish, blood pooling across the ground. Not five feet from him, his mother stood, pressing down slowly on the tiny Familiaris. Canidae screamed in terror and then furry as he suddenly charged the once loving mother. In surprise she jumped back but he did not stop, following her and jumping, reaching high on her neck, sinking his tiny teeth deep into her thick jugular. Screaming she hurled herself back and he was flung, but when he was able to stand, albeit dazed, he saw he had done his damage. She lay, bleeding heavily, beside her mate and the pup. Canidae stood, shocked at what he had just done, before rushing over to check on the pup. Familiaris was fine, however, though terrified and a with a few broken ribs. He turned to face his mother, shaking.
“Mommy…why?” He asked softly.
“how dare you….look up to them…adore them…you selfish brat” she whispered as her eyes dimmed and the fire faded into nothing.
Canidae stood before he reared back and let loose the darkest howl the forest had ever hear. Turning he left the saintly mother to bleed to death and, grabbing Familiaris just as he had so long ago, he ran, eyes gleaming with a new feeling, a new purpose.
And Darkness and Decay and the Red Death held illimitable dominion over all.
Soq Name: Mademoiselle Masque
Soq Temper: Psychosis
Rat's Name: Le Petit
Story:
I was a doctor. Still am to those few enough who stumble upon my small little outpost this far into nothingness. Those few who are fortunate enough to aid me in my…experiments. The darkness is growing and I fear my own death may be inevitable. Its common in such a field, and when such an epidemic breaks out…well it is a wonder I still live. Once can’t be surprised…day after day, death again and again…
Where was I? Ah yes, the sickness. It happened slowly, but the speed it spread was rather alarming, at first…one family, then another, then not only were my kind effected but all those who lived near us and those who traveled spread it farther still. I started out working alongside my mentor, taking small cases…
The young, eager, Mademoiselle Masque, moved quickly throughout the sick camp, tending those who desired food, water, and pulling a blanket from her back to cover those already taken. On her head road a small white rat who scurried on and off, gathering things and doing the fine work she herself was to hurried to do.
The mysterious plague that now engulfed her homeland had many in a panic and the elder doctors could, in truth, do nothing but attempt to keep the dieing comfortable. However Mademoiselle Masque was not satisfied with such a treatment plan. She cared for those to far gone to be considered for treatment, and left the less sick to the elder doctors and other assistants.
…They didn’t stop…again and again they just faded away…I didn’t know what to do anymore, why were they all dieing? So many foals, so many innocent babies…
Slowly the tiring work began to wear down the ever enthusiastic Mademoiselle. Her superiors urged her to return to her home, to rest, sleep, eat. However the ever willing mare would hear none of it and she continued to work through the weeks, months. The epidemic, however, did not slow, and yet it did not grow, thank the heavens.
…All of them…
Slowly the others noticed subtle shifts. Certain ones in her care became sick faster then others, while some simply died long before they should had. Symptoms and marks began to appear and the doctors began to suspect something was amiss with their beloved Masque.
…But no more…I have a plan now, you see…I plan to save all of the innocent babies….
Fear settled in as patients began to refuse to Masque’s treatment and the younger doctors began to whisper that perhaps the stress was to much. Perhaps Masque could not stand such mass death. However they could not abandon her without due cause.
…All the babies…
The proof came one evening when an elder doctor was making the rounds and she heard the muffled mutterings of Masque as she worked slowly on a patient, using Le Petit, her rat friend, to cut open and stuff various herbs, poisonous and otherwise, into various sections of the patient.
…I will kill a thousand…
Shocked and appalled Masque was exiled to the farthest reaches of the land to never bring harm to the homeland again.
…A thousand babies…A thousand patients…
The sickness, almost like a curse, lifted when Masque left. However, alone and fearful, broken, and mentally unstable, the Mademoiselle Masque travels the land. And oddly…each town she touches, each home she offers service too…falls to the mysterious plaque.
…To Save Myself…
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Posted: Thu Jan 08, 2009 9:28 pm
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My, what big teeth you have!
Soq Name: Fold
Soq Temper: Cruel
Wolf's Name: Past
Story:
They always ask before they die. Why? Why me?
So selfish. They always think that I picked them out specifically. Don't they ever care about how I feel? No, they just concentrate on their last breaths. It's pitiful, really, but I can't blame them. I was like them once.
All stories start out with a woman. I don't disappoint, so I'll start off with her. I never knew her true name. She called herself Heart. Quite misleading, I can assure you. She must have been the devil's right hand, that woman. She was as ambitious as they come. Always playing her cards, risking everything she had just to get a little more. Luck was always on her side though, and throughout the times I had spent with her, I had never seen her lose a bet.
Until that night where she lost it all. Confidence grows like a corrupted seed, and she had even bet her own life in the deal. All for some small shiny thing. In the end, she had lost. Before she even had a moment to beg for her life, it was snuffed.
It was then that I realized how useless luck was.
I picked up where Heart left off. I bet a lot of things, usually for little gain. The difference is that I guarantee no loss. Heart never took advantage of having me around. Luck is nothing to count on, and Past certainly makes sure that they can't count on it. When my competitor draw the cards, their only choice is to look to Fold.
And now that I've told you my story...it's your turn to draw those cards. *smirk* Let Lady Luck be with you, my friend. She is always with me, in my Heart.
And Darkness and Decay and the Red Death held illimitable dominion over all.
Soq Name: Lenore
Soq Temper: Manic
Rat's Name: D'th
Story:
Everything. I want everything.
I've always wanted everything. Even as a little foal, everything was to be mine. My birthgivers, my parents, would give me everything I asked for, but it was never enough. I would be content for a while, but then the hunger for more would come.
Finally, once I was an adult, my birthgivers tried to teach me otherwise. I understood to an extent, but the hunger that they had satiated for so long wouldn't leave me alone. I left them, hearing their cries of pain and confusion. They foolishly followed me as I tried to find the ways to gain more. Selfish, they called me. Foolish. I didn't listen. I had reverted to stealing for what I wanted. I never realized what it could do.
I returned to find my birthgivers slain, their blood seemingly raining around me. One of the demons, the Kalona, had found them. As I watched the maniacal beast leave their half eaten bodies, I merely stared at the carcasses that were once weak but selfless birth givers. Insanity began to creep in. Selfish obsessions that once chained my heart molded into bloodlust. This was what my heart had desired for so long.
As I sing along while on tour: "I roam the lands, longing to feel that warmth of gore. The death to all of those birthgivers that have bore. My mask hides my origin, as all should know me as Lenore. For the raven taunted me that I would never recieve that which I adore. It had replied, 'Nevermore.'"
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Posted: Thu Jan 08, 2009 10:21 pm
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My, what big teeth you have!
Soq Name: Wulfrin (Prounounced Wolverine)
Soq Temper: Rabid
Wolf's Name: Lgan (pronounced Logan)
Story:
“All the horrible things in your life, your father, the wars, knowing the woman you love…hunted down,” a voice spoke to him as he grit his fangs and withheld a roar erupting from his throat. Anger, hate, betrayal. After everything he had been through, watching his father slain before him, involved in battles and wars because of his strength, ruthlessness. Then, when he had found peace from the torment fate dealt him, his love was hunted down by a stallion he once had called ‘friend.’
The voice in him, bubbling up from vengeful hate coercing through his veins, he had been to late to return to his love to save her, save their unborn foal from the chaos that had made them succumb to death.
“Revenge…” it spoke in the corners of his mind, “I can make all this go away,” is tempted, “join me, and you can have your revenge,” and as the full moon revealed itself from behind the slate clouds that blanketed the night sky, the abyss of the stars home, his golden eyes no longer held the pupil that showed his sanity, “He took them from me,” he growled, saliva dripping from his tongue, a hunger in the pit of his stomach baiting him.
Then his eyes began to glow…
“He took EVERYTHING FROM ME,” he roared, his tail lashed like a serpent’s as his last strings to sanity and peace snapped one by one. “Join me,” it spoke again, “and you will have your revenge…”
Muscles shaking, pain searing through his flesh as if his bones were set aflame by searing, smoldering fire, “become the animal,” it murmured as another growl curled from the corner of his mouth, “embrace the other side,”
"I hear you..."
His golden glowing eyes looked up, looking to the moon and seeing as the pale image of his love disappearing into the moonlight, his voice was deep, fierce, rabid.
“I’m coming for blood,” he spoke aloud, ears flicking hearing movements in the night, “no code of conduct,” his tail lashed again as the fur on his neck stood on end, “no law…” and he turned into the night, raising his head to catch a scent on the night’s wind, and he tore off into the dark, revenge canvassing his mind as the final strings of sanity snapped, though the memory of his love would forever be intact, buried underneath the weight of his mourning, and want to hear her voice once more.
Edit: Thought I should note that some of the quotations come from the X-Men Wolverine Origins Trailer <3 |
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Posted: Thu Jan 08, 2009 11:02 pm
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And Darkness and Decay and the Red Death held illimitable dominion over all.
Soq Name: Hart de la Mort ('Heart' of Death)
Soq Temper: Damaged
Rat's Name: Désespoir (Despair)
Story:
"Please…"
I must have been bleeding by then. She had to have gotten in at least a few good hits, and I had fallen against a thistle bush. As she pressed against me, staring down with that expressionless mask, I could feel the thorns in my side. It was cold, but the blood and the sweat and the tears and the fear kept me warm. Still, it wasn't exactly comforting.
"Why…?"
In any other situation I would have been ashamed of my tears. Being on the brink of death can pull away anyone's pride from beneath them and cause them to topple over. I gazed up at her, the one who controlled whether I live or die, helpless and afraid. Her mask dripped with blood—my blood—and I could barely see her grin beneath it. She was grinning, happy of the position she had put me in.
The shadows around us seemed to laugh, amused by the mare’s antics and anxious to see the show go on. The trees seemed to weep as their long arms flickered in the midnight wind. I watched these two, the only witnesses as my life began to fall away…
"Why?" The bloodied mare leaned closer and I shrunk back. "I'll tell you. Promise, first…" One of her legs moved to the joint of mine and began to apply pressure and her head leaned closer. The tip of her mask ran up a beating vein in my neck. "Promise not to run."
"…I promise."
"I was going home. After all, I was indeed a very, very good girl. Daddy said that I had to be home before the sun disappeared behind the trees so I was watching veery closely. Couldn't be late! Else he might get mad and send Nikoli away. I wouldn't want that. Nikoli said he loved me, and I didn't want him to be sent away. No, no, of course I didn't.
"Anyways... The sun was still really high up(there was no way I was gonna be late. Nikoli said he loved me. Remember?) and I started to go into the forest. Our herd lived there(Mommy and Daddy liked the forest lots, so they wanted their herd to be there~). I heard screaming so, since it didn't sound like a happy scream, I ran the rest of the way there.
"I got to the clearing, you know, where the people lived. They were all dead! Well. Except for a few, but they didn't really matter. They were dying anyway. Oh! Except for Nikoli. He was standing next to this… furry thing. I think you all," She leaned closer, seeming to examine me, and I winced as more pressure was applied to my leg, "call them… Skinwalkers. Or something silly like that. There was one standing next to Nikoli. He said he loved me, remember? He must've killeded them, I thought. He was covered in blood, and people bleed when they die.
Nikoli(He said he loved me, remember?) looked at me. "Run!" he said. Isn't that silly? There he was, about to be killed, and he told ME to run! Is that what you do when you love someone? How strange…
"Anyways. After he said that, the skinwalker saw me. His eyes were scary; black and dead-like. He had one of his big scary claws to Nikoli's neck, and he was watching me, with those dead eyes. He said something, but it took me a long time to soak it in. I got it, though. He said "Do you love him?"
"At that time, I thought I did. So I said yes. Of course I'd say yes! Nikoli said he loved me, and that's what you do when someone loves you. You love them back. Anyways. I said yes. And the skinwalker grinned. He said another thing. Nikoli was trying to get away, but he couldn't. The skinwalker said "Do you want me to let him go?" And I said yes to that too.
"He sure asked weird questions.
"Anyway. After that, he said one last thing. "How about a deal? If I kill you, I'll let him go. If I can kill him, I'll let you go!" Isn't that a silly thing? I hesitated then(thinking back, I don't really know why…). But I eventually came to my senses.
" "Don't kill me…" I said. The obvious answer, right? I think so too! Anyway. Nikoli stared at me, and the skinwalker laughed. He laughed! At me! Why would he do such a thing when I gave the right answer?
"Nikoli's blood was a pretty color red."
I didn't say anything, soaking the words in. My eyes were wide, and my jaw was slack. This mare… she couldn't be real. It wasn't possible. She was leaning close now, nearly whispering her dark words in my ear.
She leaned back and looked at me. "You look afraid. Why does everyone look afraid when I say that?" The mare leaned away and she had a thoughtful look on her face. My leg seemed to my in the process of snapping in slow-motion; the agony long and gruesome. "Oh, I know why!" She grinned brightly and turned back to me. "The ending! It's the best part.”
Her cheery expression lingered as she continued her story.
"Nikoli forgave me. I know he did. He told me! Oh, I guess that doesn't make sense. Let's see…
"I stayed where all the dead Soquili were. Everything had fallen into perspective and I became who I am now! So much clearer than who I was before… All of those dead bodies, rotten and smelly—that skinwalker was soon to join them—, they all told me they forgave me. All day, all night, that's all they would say as I walked around, doing my daily business.
" "We forgive you!" "Don't be sorry!" "I still love you." "Don't cry…"
"I personally thought it all was ridiculous. I don't need your forgiveness, I did nothing wrong! I'm not sorry! No, I don't love you too! And damn it does it look like I'm crying?"
"We got in arguments all the time, me and them. But Nikoli was always nice. Telling me I did the right thing… He was always nice. Too bad I didn't love him too.
"And that brings me to you!" She laughed, cheerily, and watched me. "Nikoli's got quiet now. All his meat's been gone and all that's left are those icky white bones. I try to get him to talk, but he don’t no more. I'm thinking… I need new company!"
It struck me then, the severity of the situation. I knew I was bound to die, but my fate beyond was unknown. My eyes widened further, and I tried to run.
The sound and pain of my leg snapping made me fall again. The mare pouted and watched me.
"I thought you promised."
I screamed. The sound resonated and the trees turned their gaze away, ashamed. Ashamed at me. Ashamed at her. Ashamed at themselves. Ashamed at the shadows that continued to giggle, leaning foreword in their seat to see the exciting climax.
"One last thing." She looked down at me, and I could see her blank expression beneath her mask. The sound and sensation of my other leg snapping shook my senses once more. The sound of my screams grew. I could never recall the pain and the fear that shook my body. Words could never even try to describe, they would only fall short.
The mare drew closer, her mask tracing my neck once more, and—past my screams and the chanting winds and the cackling shadows—her words were as piercing as an arrow.
"Promise you'll forgive me too."
And my blood spurted.
(1,290) |
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Posted: Thu Jan 08, 2009 11:10 pm
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My, what big teeth you have!
Soq Name: Zeke
Soq Temper: Clueless
Wolf's Name: Midas
Story: The leaves crinkled gently under his hooves, there couldn't be a worse fate for him. There wasn't a day that past by that Zeke didn't see the world in a different view. The young stallion had been handsome he had friends and a family. But now things were different his only friend was Midas the wolf and his rugged looks were replaced by fur and glowing eyes. He could smell Midas as he rounded the bend, the two legger did this to him. He didn't mean to cause trouble but apparently that human did. He remembered the day as if it was yesterday. The day that his grace, beauty and life took a turn for the worse, his wings stretched out as he found himself basking in the sun, his smile radiating he knew that he looked good so why hide it. He had saw a two legger, his memory wasn't that hazy, this old man was decrypted and defiantly wasn't worth his glory. The old man reached out to touch Zeke gently to brush upon his beautiful coat. Zeke pulled away and neighed wildly how dare someone like that try to touch him, how dare such a person believe they were worthy. Without warning the old man had burst in to a bright light one that blinded Zeke he reared his head and tried to pull back. It was no use, the light engulfed him as he recoiled at the appearance laid before him. The booming voice took over,
“You who have shown nothing but vainness you who has no reason to help those around you will now see what it is like”
Zeke howled slightly, there wasn't any vainness in him at all, how could anyone think that. His growling grew louder as he pinned the old man against the wall, the blinding light flashed again. His muzzle held the old mans cloak as others suddenly appeared. There was no way he would be able to get away from this, his family would see him as he had been reviled to be. Taking off in to the woods he vowed that he would show that old man who was vain. Midas pounced on Zeke pulling him back to reality. Zeke smiled slightly, there was at least one friend he could count on while he plotted his revenge on those that recoiled at him. Those that couldn't see his true beauty.
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And Darkness and Decay and the Red Death held illimitable dominion over all.
Soq Name: Lady Death
Soq Temper: Vengeful
Rat's Name: Scurry
Story: Life...death...they would all soon know pain like she felt that day. Her family cast her aside the only one to follow was Scurry a rat that had nearly found his own demise that morning. Lady Death had been different and yet she seemed to find ways to fit in to the world. It was getting harder and harder to fit in. That day had started out the same her mother barely looking at her, her father repulsed by her, she slowly made her way through the swamp she called home. She felt the anger well up inside her, something that had happened many a times before however she was always able to quell it. This time it came too quickly for her to stop the feelings. The scent was strong. There was a strong sense of pain and destruction slowly rising to a boil within her. She followed the scent, as it grew stronger her urge for destruction rose even more. Coming upon the small mare Lady Death found her hoof come crashing down upon the mare. The screams filled the air, Lady Death found herself filling with a new emotion, she didn't care for the screams she just knew that she would be an outcast once those who knew her found out. She left the mare mangled upon the swamp floor, as she ran. The smell of blood ran hot in her nose as she finally felt free, she wouldn't be hiding anymore she would finally be herself, she would no longer need to hide her feelings to keep it quiet. Everyone knew what she was, she finally realized what others had always known.
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Posted: Thu Jan 08, 2009 11:16 pm
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And Darkness and Decay and the Red Death held illimitable dominion over all.
Soq Name: Masquellia Ekin nee Sevilan Umay
Soq Temper: bitter
Rat's Name: Vitriol
Notes: Masquellia Ekin (the masked Harvest)
Sevilan Umay (Beloved Hope)
Terehasa (blessed)
King Vassaire of the Terehasa Herd mated with the Sorceress Anadile. It was then that everything started to go wrong. He had promised to love her- no matter what. For a few blessed months, they were blissfully happy. Then tragedy struck. Most of the mares of the herd were afflicted with an unknown sickness, a sickness which caused them to become hideously deformed. Vassaire was devastated when Anadile was struck, and he tried very hard to keep his vow. But the memories of his mate when they were happy could only satisfy him for so long. Finally, it wasn’t enough. He turned away from her and sent Anadile elsewhere presumably for her health, when in all actuality it was so he could find a new mate without worrying about his current mate’s temper and jealousy.
Anadile finally found out about Vassaire’s infidelity eventually, and in a furious rage she cast a horrible curse on her erstwhile mate and the herd she once had loved with all her being.
“From now on, until your promise is fulfilled, Vassaire, or your blood dies out, the Red Death with continue to ravage this herd.”
Her lifeforce, her hatred, fuelled the curse, and so just before she died, she touched one who would become the instrument of her vengeance.
THE "Red Death" had long devastated the country. No pestilence had ever been so fatal, or so hideous. Blood was its Avatar and its seal -- the redness and the horror of blood. There were sharp pains, and sudden dizziness, and then profuse bleeding at the pores, with dissolution. The scarlet stains upon the body and especially upon the face of the victim, were the pest ban which shut him out from the aid and from the sympathy of his fellows.
Generations have passed since the curse was first uttered. There have been more than a score of incarnations of the Red Masque, each more powerful and devastating than the last, as the hatred and bitterness of each were added. The Chosen were forever cursed to be alone. To never know love or know what happiness is. Lessia was the most current in the line, and she was nearing the end of her tragic life. There was just enough time for her to choose and turn her successor, transferring the burden. All that was left once all the bitterness and anger were left was a comforting numbness.
Princess Sevilan Umay was the Beloved Hope of the herd. Known for the absolute goodness of her heart and the sweetness of her temper. And her brother, Prince Prospero was kind, just, and likely to prove the greatest leader since Vassaire before his tragic mistake. The herd was neither thriving nor dwindling but left in a state of existence that was in danger of becoming obsolete.
In her foalhood, before the mantle of the curse was settled on her shoulders, before her name and future were taken and she became Lessia and donned the Masque, she had been known for her intelligence and cunning, she knew the meaning of discretion and did not infect her victims indiscriminately. Each move she made was precise and perfectly calculated. The same held true, especially in the choice of her successor.
Prospero had loved his sister above all else, for while he was the future leader of the herd, Umay held the future of the herd- all of their hopes and dreams- in her hooves.
One day while they were out playing in the meadow near the forest, Umay was distracted and walked off away from her brother. Lessia, having been stalking her prey for some time, saw her opportunity and took it.
Stepping out of the forest on Umay’s blind side, she quickly lay her neck over the younger mare’s and pulled her close. “Listen to me carefully, O Beloved Hope of Terehasa. I am Red Death. You are now infected, but you shall not die. No. Death is too kind a fate for you. So instead of being their hope, you shall become their Bane.”
The young mare started and tried to pull away, but her captor was strong and the words whispered in her ear held her in place. There was no way this could be happening to her.
"Don’t you fret your pretty little head about it though, my sweetling. All that it will take for you to be healed and set free, is simple. You merely need to find one who has promised to love you no matter what, and have them accept and love you as you are- even hideously deformed by this sickness. But until then you shall become the same as me. You can no longer claim Sevilan Umay, for you can never again be their Beloved Hope. You are now Masquellia Ekin.”
And with this, Lessia removed her head from around the other mare’s neck and disappeared back into the forest to watch over the excruciating transformation of her successor, after all it was the least she could do, before she would find a secluded place to die.
At once Umay, now Masquellia felt the sharp pains and dizziness which were known to be the beginning of the Red Death. She convulsed and fell to her knees. Why was this happening to her? How? All coherent thought fled and she was left begging not for her life, but rather for her death. But it seemed the mysterious mare’s words were becoming true. She was becoming The Masque.
There had been hope offered she knew, ironically considering everything, and as she felt blood pouring down her face she tried to think through the words. “All it would take for you to be healed and be set free is simple. You must find someone who told you they’d love you no matter what and have them accept you as you are now.’ She held on to this until the pain subsided, and she heard Prospero calling.
“Umay, Umay where are you?”
She had considered hiding, but she realized here was her brother, her twin, her first and best chance. She grinned, a macabre sight with the blood streaming down her face staining her pristine coat a distressing crimson. She trotted towards him eagerly, knowing without a doubt he would accept her. This “curse” would be cured within the first few hours.
“Prospero, here I am.”
There was the sound of approaching hoofbeats as he followed her voice, eager to find her and return home. He hurried to her side and started to nuzzle her with sibling affection until he took notice of her new appearance.
“Umay?” he started, and backed away in fear.” No, you can’t be Umay. No.” He turned and fled, leaving his sister to stare at his retreating back, her heart breaking. “It’s still me, brother,” she whispered brokenly.
Everywhere, the reactions were the same. Where once she was loved and revered, she was now feared and reviled. She tried once again to return to her loving family, but time after time was rebuffed. Finally her brother turned her away, her own twin, saying “Umay is no more. She never existed. Just leave here and never come back.”
Each rejection hardened her heart and she grew calloused and cold. She grew bitter and started to take her new life seriously. If the herd would reject her, she would reject her herd. She would make them feel the hurts inflicted upon her. Her brother would be one of the last- his rejection was the most painful, so it was only fitting that his death would also be.
In time, her father had died and Prospero took his place. And so he held a celebration. Masquellia knew her chance had finally come. In her aspect of Masquellia Ekin she was completely unrecognizable, so she went to crash the party.
When the eyes of Prince Prospero fell upon this spectral image he was seen to be convulsed, in the first moment with a strong shudder either of terror or distaste; but, in the next, his brow reddened with rage.
"Who dares?" he demanded hoarsely of the courtiers who stood near him -- "who dares insult us with this blasphemous mockery? Seize him and unmask him…”
She danced through those who stepped forward into her path, trying to apprehend her without touch and her voice rang out mockingly. “I’m hurt, ‘brother dearest.’ Don’t you recognize me? Well, irregardless, it’s time for you to meet your fate.” |
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Posted: Thu Jan 08, 2009 11:18 pm
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My, what big teeth you have!
Soq Name: Grimm
Soq Temper: Brooding
Wolf's Name: Piran
Story: The pandemonium broke out when a newly grown stallion was traversing up to the cliff that oversees his little ‘pack’ of wolf soquilis that his father led. The skinwalkers and kalonas worked side by side, and came in from many different sides down below the cliff with their only mission on their mind: destroy the wolf soquili ‘pack’ and dine like kings tonight. They took the members out so easily by surprise and their fur-curling roar/growling filled the air. The stallion stood immobilized by the fear on the cliff, and watched helplessly when the bloodshed unfold in front of his golden eyes while being not able to move his head away from the horrendous, bloodied spectacle that is happening below him. The tightness of his chest intensified when he saw a small foal sprinting through the chaos right into the waiting fanged maw of a skinwalker and Grimm tossed his head up in frustration when he knows that if he goes into the fray, he will get killed. But all of his clan members are getting murdered in cold blood. He could taste the agony and fear that is radiated from the dwindling number of his clan members and he tosses his head backward, bellowed in anger. The Berserker that have been laying dormant inside his body since he was born woke up and roared for blood and vengeance while heightening all of Grimm’s senses.
His usually dull golden eyes blazed with sudden fire and seemed to glow against his darkened; thickened fur, Grimm stared down at half eaten corpses of his clan members with a twisted grin plastered on his face indicated that he completely went insane and lost his senses. Grimm suddenly sprinted down the cliff and into the small fray between a kalona that just grew up and his own beloved mate who was fighting like a hell cat to stay alive because in the clan, (once you life mate... you life mate for the life with no exceptions (well... except for death)). The mare didn’t want to leave Grimm mateless and she couldn’t imagine the life without him so she renewed her efforts in fighting against the kalona. “GRIMM!! Get away from here!” A pale gray wolf mare screeched at him before getting her throat ripped cleanly right out of her body. With a gurgled cry, the mare collapsed to the ground and tried to crawl away while pleading her mate with her eyes to get the hell out of here. Grimm stood there, stared at his mate laying there in front of him bleeding to death and the blood bubbling out of hole in her throat seems to trigger the berserker rage which basically caused him to forget everything he did in the berserker rage. He made a beeline toward a kalona whom could sense that Grimm is not someone to mess around with due to the glowing eyes and the deadly aura around him and was trying to make his getaway without getting noticed so he could circle around and attack Grimm from behind. When Grimm finally caught up with the kalona, they collided in flurry of hooves, wings (on Kalona’s part) and fangs while the small pack of the wolves stood in the forest watching intently but one wiry gray wolf immediately shot out and joined the fray with the pack howled in protest behind him.
Everything blurred as the fight raged on, and the wiry wolf suddenly got kicked out of the fray with a dazed look on his face. The wolf immediately jumped back up and bristles, snarled viciously at the fighting pair knowing that it was Grimm that kicked him out of the fight. But with one deadly swoop, the kalona fell to the ground with many debilitating wounds that is inflicted with careful yet brutal precision from Grimm. The wolf stallion have his fangs firmly against the dying yet flailing kalona’s windpipe, crushing it painful inch by inch after ensuring that the kalona’s legs and wings are broken and not being able to be used against him. The blood bubbled up around Grimm’s mouth and seeped into his mouth while he tasted the kalona’s life fleeing from the body. With death rattle resounded from the kalona’s chest, Grimm slowly dropped the young kalona to the ground and turned his glowing gold eyes toward the silent yet horrified pack of wolves. The chant of berserker filled the still air as Grimm slowly made his way over to the wiry wolf who tried to help him in the fight. “You are my companion.” He simply claimed the wolf as his companion without asking or consulting with the pack.
Piran didn’t shrink away from Grimm like other wolves did but he boldly stood there with a glowering golden eyes, feeling the resentment toward the soquili for kicking him out of the fray when he was about to get the kalona’s throat. But when Grimm spoke those words, Piran stiffened up when he felt the familiar bond forming between him and the soquili but he knew that it was destined to be. He tossed his head back and let out a loud howl, telling his old pack that he is leaving. The alpha replied with fare thee well howl that is echoed by other pack members while the mother wept with sorrow and joy for her son Piran. The wiry wolf turns around and takes his side by Grimm’s hind leg, patiently waiting for Grimm to start moving once again.
Grimm didn’t spare him a single glance as he turned around and left the carnage behind him without a shred of emotion in his eyes. Every since that fateful day, Grimm gladly succumbed to his berserker form and destroyed everything in his path without any emotions or thoughts with his faithful wolf companion by his side. Every other night, two blood-stopping howls pierce the night air, announcing that the hunt is on and the soquilis need to stay out of their way or become their dinner.
One day, a female gray wolf- looking soquili moves through the forest like a sprite, graceful and ethereal-like, obviously on the hunt for something. She has been hearing various versions of lore about Grimm and she is determined to find Grimm to sate her own curiosity. She suddenly froze in front of a small stream, feeling like she is being watched…hunted by something so malicious that it made her skin crawl. Clamping her mouth shut, the female shifts her brown eyes from left to right while resisting the urge to run. A low snarl fills the air as the small wiry wolf appears from the bushes across the creek with his fangs bared in a snarl with his hackles raised. “Easy… I am not here to hurt anybody…” The mare tries to speak in soothing voice but apparently it is not working on Piran because the wolf snarls even louder, stalking closer to her.
The sudden whisper of wind blew on the mare’s side before she found herself on the ground with sharp fangs embedded in her throat. She gasped as she stares up into the glowing golden eyes of the stallion that every soquilis nervously calls Grimm. The gasping pleas falls on the stallion’s deaf ears as he watches her intently while slowly squeezing the breath and life right out of her, refusing to look at the blood because he want to relish in killing a mare that looks just like his mate who betrayed him by dying on him. When the light extinguishes from the mare’s eyes, Grimm slowly releases the mare’s limp body from his bloody maw and got slammed unexpectedly by the anguish and renewed fury while remembering the day his mate betrayed him by dying without even fighting for him. A soul-shattering roar rips from his chest as he turns around, sprinting into the forest with his faithful wolf companion’s paws hitting the ground at the breaking-neck speed while he fled from the corpse of the mare that barely lived her life the way she wanted to live.
His mission is to hurt and torture every soquilis so they could experience the agony and pain he had to go through by watching his clan, and mate die right in front of his own eyes. Oh, he is very determined to make sure each single soquili he encounters will suffer terribly.
Word count- 1,398
~~~~~~~
And Darkness and Decay and the Red Death held illimitable dominion over all.
Soq Name: Chimera
Soq Temper: shrewd
Rat's Name: Whisper
Story: The Red Death ravaged everything in its path and took one particular mare as its victim but left her behind to survive but with painful reminder of everything she lost. One very brave human managed to find her laying half-dead on the ground and wrapped her body up with wraps that immediately got bloodied by the exploded sores scattered all over her body and face. The last ‘reward’ the dying mare got was the plain yet scary looking mask that covered most of her scarred and infected face. The human refused to leave the mare’s side and nursed her back to health (well... as healthy as Red Death victim could be) then the human collapsed, finally succumbing to the Red Death. Chimera’s once radiant white coat is now dulled and lifeless with blood stains all over it and her once sparkling and dancing colorful eyes have lost its luster and color, leaving them black and hollow. She moves through the forest with unnatural grace and ease, not panicking about the bodies that is littering on the ground like a normal soquili would and her head immediately gets filled with whispering of lost souls, wanting a revenge on the prince that have shunned them from the castle and protection of the Red Death. A small mouse scrambles up Chimera’s leg and chatters quietly at her, not wanting to be left behind.
Chimera paid the mouse no heed as she moves among the dead bodies, figuring out how to get into the castle since she was one of soquilis that was trying to get into the castle but only rich and beautiful soquilis could get in so thus she is shunned like yesterday’s trash. She mourned the loss of her beauty and sight since The Red Death decided to take her sight away, leaving the black rotten looking eyes in its wake. Using her other four senses to guide herself through the piles of bodies, Chimera managed to find smooth-feeling (and black colored) fabric to throw over her body and tattered wings to hide the evidence of the Red Death’s ravaging results. She shook her head slightly to ensure that her red head wrap is still firmly wrapped around her head and neck and a slight smile appears on her face, knowing that she is well covered except for her bloodied tail and the stench of the death that clung to her body like a second skin. She whispers to the mouse she dubbed as Whisper (since he is so quiet, only a whisper could be heard coming from him) to act like a little decoration on top of her head. Whisper happily obliged as he scrambles up to the spot between her ears and lies down on his stomach with his head slightly above her forehead.
With a flick of her scraggly tail, Chimera moves slowly toward the castle looking every bit graceful despite the fact that she has blood splatters almost all over her body and her face is covered with the death mask. With few whispered comments to the guard that beyond the door, the welcoming sound of the door opening invoked the feeling of dangerous and eager feeling deep inside her chest. Chimera didn’t’ bow her head in gratitude to the guard as she slowly moves toward the ballroom, using the music as her audio guide and she finally found the room and stood near the doorway of the ballroom that is conquered by the soquilis (whom chased the humans out and promptly barricaded the door so nobody couldn’t get in or out. The music comes to abrupt stop as Chimera could sense every eye is on her and the whispering about what a rotten joke it is... someone actually came in masquerading as Red Death victim. A slow and self-depreciating smile appears on Chimera’s muzzle under the mask as she didn’t move a single muscle when she could hear the outrage in the prince’s voice and could sense his presence approaching her at rapid speed. “Who are you? Why are you playing this si-“ The angry masculine voice began to yell at her then the ranting died in his throat when Chimera opens her eyes and moves her head toward the prince slowly. The prince spluttered as he stares at Chimera with horrified eyes then rears up, shouting at the paralyzed guests to go after Chimera and kill her before she could kill them.
Chimera didn’t blink or flinch at the prince’s words as she brushed the prince’s side with her body, moving lazily toward series of rooms with Whisper whispering directions in her ear. She knows that the words do not need to be uttered from her because they would be dead before the time she gets to the last room. The grandfather clock began to chime ominously to announce that it’s midnight and with each chime, the angry mob froze for while then resumes chasing down Chimera. When she reached to the darkest room, Whisper chatters nervously about how dark it is and Chimera remains silent, waiting for the angry mob to rush through the hallway with the prince as the leader. When the prince reaches to the black room, he gaped at the sight of the moonlight laminating the mare in ghostly light but he shook himself out of the temporary shock and trance. “GET HER!!” He screeches but only silence was his response for few seconds. “Imperious fools!” The prince yelled over his shoulder as he charges Chimera with his horn but when the horn got within an inch of Chimera’s chest, with a shocked look on his face... he fell down dead to the ground. As the twelfth chime rang out throughout the castle, one by one... the guests fell to the Red Death plague.
Chimera didn’t move as the sound of bodies hitting the floor resonates through the castle and a slight smile appears on her muzzle. “This is our new home…” She says in soft yet raspy voice to Whisper as she moves away from the blood-stained walls toward to the ballroom with Whisper directing her. Chimera learned that the pleasantries won’t get her anywhere because most of the soquilis are greedy bastards who just wanted to do things that will benefit their own good so her heart hardened and her soul died that day.
Word count- 1,055
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Posted: Fri Jan 09, 2009 12:07 am
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Posted: Fri Jan 09, 2009 12:27 am
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Posted: Fri Jan 09, 2009 2:13 am
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My, what big teeth you have!
Soq Name: Riaghan (Old Gaelic for furious, impulsive)
Soq Temper: Black-Hearted
Wolf's Name: Itzal
Story:
Riaghan knew that once he had another name once, but gone from his mind like ash in the wind. Only to be replaced by fury for those soft hearted fools. Those that caused him pain, suffering and a lost of all that he once loved greatly. Riaghan with all his being he would make sure others suffered to right what was wrong to him and revenge for those he loved.
Black heart skipped a beat in excitement as he walked through his woods looking for his victim. First tortured of the mind, making sure the victim know they are being followed. Next would still be the mind but making them see your glowing yellow eyes and sounds of growling. Riaghan’s eyes glowed even brighter to see the fear on his victims face…
Once Riaghan wasn’t so black-hearted, he had a pack of his own or if you got technically it would be a herd. The lead stallion of his little herd, but he liked to call it a pack as all of them were wolf-like in appearance and in how they all acted too. All of them protected the woods or those that lived within its branches from those that wanted to harm. He love the pack deeply as they were what he held so precious. The only flaw that Riaghan had was he was impulsive to patrol the woods.
One winter he had driven the pack in to a blizzard making sure nothing would destroy the woods. In the outcome of that impulsion two members died of exposure. The other two surviving members questioned Riaghan’s authority.
“Why did you drive us like that? We lost two of our best in that storm,” the mare questioned with tears in her eyes.
“I lost by best friend and you know that there hasn’t been a threat to the woods in three seasons,” the stallion said stamping his hoofs on the ice-harden ground.
“So did I,” he said in rage. “But I know that there is something evil working in our woods and I want it gone,”
Only bad luck followed them after that conversation. In that following spring as Riaghan was yet again driving his pack, that another member die in a mud sink hole that had been covered over. He now knew that something was trying to kill them all and take what was his. With his mind only wanting to kill that were kill his members. All of his caution when out the window as he was following a set of tracks that he thought belonged to what he wanted to kill and ignoring his last members pleas to stop following those tracks. As it brought them deep into the woods were evil was suppose to live.
Bedding down for the night near the tracks they were following. Unknown to them two Kalonas had been watching the two of them following there tracks. One had a torch in its mouth, stolen from a human village. For so long those two Kalonas wanted Riaghan’s woods to make it there nest for a larger herd that was to come. Thinking it would be fun to watch Riaghan and his pack burn in there sleep gave those Kalona great pleasure. Dropping the torch near them and caught ablaze very fast as the summer had been dry.
Walking up to smoke in his eyes and having coughing fits as he tried to breath. Panicked stricken he looked for his last member and saw that in her panic to get away from the fire inadvertently ran to the center of it. Riaghan cried out for the loss of his pack, as flames also endangering of killing him. But to one side of the fires were they weren’t burning he heard the two Kalona laughing at what they did and talking on how the flesh would taste so good after the fire died down.
Mind racing as to figure out if he should die or take revenge of all those he had lost. Yellow eyes glowed brightly and an evil smirk crossed is face, that he would take revenge than death. Eyes fixed on the two laughing Kalonas as he jumped out of the fire and smirking all the way as they now became the hunted. Never in his life did he ever feel so good and he would make them all pay.
For he love the fear Kalonas gave the most when they were being hunted. The only friend that loved hunting others as much as he did, was his wolf Itzal. Both worked so good as a team to break down the minds of there victims. Mostly they would play mind games on them and making sure that they feared them both when they were awake and asleep. Making sure they all felt they lost what was precious to them. He so loved to play mind games. As that was one of the best ways of torture than anything he could physically do. But if he need to kill to make an example to others he would do it in a heart beat and making sure it was a savage killing.
Are you afraid of the big bad wolf, big bad wolf…you should be!
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Posted: Fri Jan 09, 2009 2:25 am
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My, what big teeth you have!
Soq Name: Ezechiel - "Strength of God"
Soq Temper: Unyielding
Wolf's Name: Even - "Stone"
Word Count: 859
Story:
When he was born, they rejoiced.
He was the one sent by their god to save them! He was the who would guard the foals in the high pastures, watch the old when they grazed in the grassy meadows of their herdlands.
"Such bright, piercing eyes!" They cried, "And strong, sharp fangs!"
Surely the wolves of the mountains wouldn't dare attack this equine wolf.
And so his herd celebrated, overjoyed at this god-given defender, this... horse in a wolf's skin. So long they had been plagued by the razor fangs and piercing claws of marauding wolf packs! Countless younglings had been lost to their hunting prowess. Too much blood had been shed on their dew-soaked grass!
No longer.
Ezechiel was raised as a mortal god, and he took his duties to heart.
Even as a foal, the wolves were wary of him. His mere presence in the field would keep them back at the edge of the woods, eyes glinting with hunger... and confusion. Though he hid it well, the same confusion echoed inside of Zeke - and the first night his desire for meat, for blood overcame him, he knew true anguish.
He fled, into the paws of the waiting wolf pack.
And, surprisingly enough, he found peace there. Though the pack never said anything, they accepted him warily... and left him alone. Often he hunted with one large male, named Even. Zeke ran with him when the desire overcame him, when his primal instincts ran rampant in his body and the need for meat (grass! What meager sustenance) woke his true nature.
And as he stood guard in the field and watched his herd play, his eyes strayed often to the woods.
For a short while, things remained in a state of balance. But the sudden disappearance of a foal (and the bloodstains in the grass near the woods) was nothing to be scoffed at, and the herd demanded vengence. They implored, begged, and finally demanded that he kill the wolves responsible - and Ezechiel refused. He saw the foal's blood on the pack alpha's maw, saw the savage hunger in his eyes, but Zeke's heart ached, torn between two loyalties. The herd could do nothing but wait, and wonder if their god had betrayed them.
Nothing, that is, until the wolf pups wandered onto the herdlands.
They were killed by the herd leader without question, their bloody corpses left as a pitiful warning beneath the leaves of their woodland home. A war was building, and Ezechiel's loyalties left him bound helpless and despairing. The deaths sickened him, and the murderers ran next to him in herd and pack.
He had to end it.
Though he was raised as a mortal god himself, Zeke's faith was strong - after all, how could one such as he come to be? Part horse, part wolf... loyal to both. God created him. God molded him. And God designed a fate for him, instilled in him a singular truth that no other could share, one that no other was strong enough to uphold.
Ezechiel knew it then - and faced it.
He arranged a meeting, between the herd leader and the pack alpha, and when they came to the moonlit clearing, both were certain of their private victory. Surely the wolf would align with wolf! And surely their god-sent savior would protect the herd...
He killed them both, and left their corpses under the leaves of the darkened forest as a morbid warning. He did not return to the herd, and when he hunted he ran alone. Only one stayed by his side - the wolf called Even - and the stallion tolerated that with little grace. Zeke had a higher purpose now, far grander, far more important than the petty squabbles of a herd and a pack of wolves.
Far, far more important.
The truth had come to him, and he embraced it. He was god's tool of justice, god's wrath come to earth. He would render judgment and dole out punishment to those deserving. He would pave the way to hell with the bodies of those he found wanting, and would save the innocent from the merciless advances of the evil. He would be worthy.
And for a while he was. For a long time he fought stoically to separate the line between good and evil, and he walked the edge of the precipice with the skill of a tight-rope walker. Even kept him steady, offered a new perspective. Zeke viewed the evidence, investigated, watched...
But distinctions blur, defined lines fade away. Good and evil meld.
It could have been all the deaths, the killing - it could have been the night they came for Even. Perhaps he grew tired of the evil he saw in the world, grew tired of fighting it when it was armed with weapons far stronger than mere truth. Perhaps he finally decided to fight fire with fire... but the results were undeniable.
God's vigilante turned murderer.
All who stood against him were against God, and all who were against God were sentenced to death. The world was a cesspool of darkness, and it was his job to cleanse it. Heaven's holy judge fell, though he didn't feel the drop or note the impact.
He was, after all, only mortal. |
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Posted: Fri Jan 09, 2009 6:38 am
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My, what big teeth you have!
Soq Name: W
Soq Temper: Powerful
Wolf's Name: Tyr
Story: His first memory was of warmth, pure and unadulterated warmth. He could remember being engulfed, drenched, and splattered in pure warmth, is small body huddled in its ball, tail ticking his nose.
When he was young, his mother would wrap him close to her body, her neck craned protectively over his frail form. She nuzzle him each night and whisper words and thoughts and ideas into his ears. She’d speak of cruelty and kindness, laughter and tears, love and hate, and her stories and sweet laughter would echo in his dreams.
His father would glance at him, aloof and distant, his gray coat shining with pride under a full moon. He’d watch them with stern golden eyes and sharp fangs made of ice, cold and powerful.
When he’s old enough to walk and run and hunt, his mother leaves and his father comes back splattered in red under the full moon. His mouth drips in crimson syrup and his coat glimmers in scarlet paint and his mother is gone.
“Weakly,” his father sneers at him with golden eyes of disdain, and he walks away, leaving a trail of bloody tears.
And he is alone, left with the faint memory of ice and power.
-------
His second memory is of coldness, of harsh winds against his small body and of shivering, starving nights. He could remember being engulfed, drenched, and splattered in pure ice, huddled in a ball at the back of a metal crate.
He is too young to walk, too young to run, and too young to hunt. He wanders, whines, and begs and is finally picked up and thrown into a cage of chilled silver ice.
And he hears laughter—cruel, biting, tormenting laughter.
“Worthless. Not even big enough to sell for the hide, but the kids needs something to screw with so we’ll keep the dumb s**t ‘till it dies.”
He is worthless and weak, a simple toy to be played with and not even with his own pelt, he remember cowering next to his mother, comforted by her soothing whispers, and he remembers coldness and cruelty, pain and aching. He thinks about his father, cold and cruel, covered in red in the proud moonlight and he wants to be like his father. He wants to stand tall and proud and fearless.
And he feels hate. Hate for his mother, hate for his father, hate for those he locked him away, and hate for himself.
As a hand reaches for him, it is followed by a scream.
Kill or be killed, he thinks, licking the warm blood off his lips with a grin. Eat or be eaten, and he was rather hungry.
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Posted: Fri Jan 09, 2009 7:58 am
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And Darkness and Decay and the Red Death held illimitable dominion over all.
Soq Name: Hemlock
Soq Temper: Disillusioned
Rat's Name: Jimson Weed
Story:
She travels with a swarm of rats, and speaks with the tongue of a corpse... A bloody wraith of a mare, garbed in the rags of her victims... If you see her face, you'll die from the plague... Rumours and stories can spring from the most mundane occurrences, twisting and warping from each telling to the next. A good deed can become a feat of heroics, a misfortune can grow to a terrible curse. But even the darkest, most nightmarish tales can have simple beginnings...
"She's a little odd, that one."
"Poor girl, so plain and awkward."
"Why she was left with us, I'll never know."
Hemlock was indeed an awkward filly, growing up in her small herd. It wasn't even really her herd, she had no family among the old mares, the decrepit, withering stallion, the two sisters with their rasping wheezy voices, and their five foals that rasped and wheezed up a storm as they frolicked in the meadow. She didn't belong here...
Although she didn't quite remember it all herself, her mother had left her with the old biddies and sickly, pregnant mares not long after she had first poked her head out of the basket. The gossip of the herd had haunted her ever since, whispers and hushed tones that spelled out the ghost of her past, 'A poison, that's what her mother called her', 'Well we have to take care of her, it's not her fault', 'Shhh, she's coming this way'. Hemlock would often wonder on the nature of her ghost, wandering off on her own rather than taking the wary company of the old grandmares or the bullying of the sick foals.
But one day she found an odd little creature during her solitary walks, like a field mouse but much larger. Jimson Weed, he introduced himself in a little whispered voice. He seemed willing to talk with Hemlock as he nibbled the seeds out of a pinecone. He had been kicked out of his home now that he was old enough, he said, and took no notice of her awkwardness as he twitched his whiskers and blinked up at her. Jimson chattered away all afternoon, talking about the world he had seen, and Hemlock listened with rapt attention until the sun went down. She bid Jimson to come back to the herd with her, and tell her more about the world, and was delighted when he agreed.
But the herd would not tolerate her new friend.
"Get that rat out of here!"
"Rats are disgusting, filthy creatures!
"That thing could be carrying the plague!"
They tried to step on poor Jimson as they chased him away, and Hemlock was shunned for bringing such a creature into their midst. Sad and lonely, the next day she went back to where she had first met her friend, and was relieved to see him right there working away at a fresh pine cone. He chattered again in his whispery voice, all day as before, but this time it was not about his travels. Today he whispered about hate, and prejudice, and dark, bitter things that Hemlock would have never imagined existed.
She returned to the herd silent and withdrawn, and after her earlier transgression nobody questioned her behaviour. Days, weeks, and months moved on, repeating themselves in a dark spiral as she listened to Jimson chatter about the ways of the world. Hemlock slowly came to the realization that they were alike, shunned for simply harbouring a ghost of their past. She learned to loathe the herd and it's shallow-mindedness, and only returned for the night with disdain.
Then one night a great sickness came to the herd. The old mares gasped for air, and the foals wheezed and coughed in violent crimson splatters. Their mothers tried to call out, perhaps tried to plead for help, but their words were muted by the gurgling of blood in their throats. The violent struggle for life was swift, and silent save for the coughs that seemed to vanish into the empty air. Hemlock wondered if she would die as she lay in the grass, struggling for breath long after the others had gone still.
But the respiratory sickness that had felled the weak herd and still hid inside her, dormant and infectious, was not enough to bring her to her death. She was neither ancient, nor weakened by an inherited breathing condition, yet these did not factor into her account of the situation. It was so much simpler to her. Poisons, plagues, vengeful ghosts... They had all come to free her from the burden the herd had forced her to carry. When she was well enough to rise, she returned to Jimson, and rasped with her scarred throat.
"The plague has come. Let's be free."
My, what big teeth you have!
Soq Name: Samaran (meaning 'guise')
Soq Temper: Deceitful
Wolf's Name: Vuk
Story:
"Mama... There's a wolf in this basket..." The little pup whined, disappointed. This was supposed to be his first kill, his own baby soquili to eat. But instead of a scrawny little foal, he definitely saw a scraggly, fluffy-tailed wolf. It lay on it's side in the basket, sleeping soundly with it's tail curled over it's legs.
"No, Vuk, look closer. It's definitely a soquili. Do you see the teeth?" The mother wolf reached one paw into the basket, willing to delay the kill for the purposes of her only son's education. She gently pushed up the gums on the sleeping foal, and was a little startled herself.
"Maaaama, I don't get it. It's got sharp teeth too," Vuk whined again, a confused note entering his voice. Then suddenly his frustrated expression lifted. "If it's a wolf you can say so, I won't tell the pack you were wrong. He can be my brother, since I don't have any brothers anymore."
Just then the foal opened it's eyes, and was promptly tackled by the little pup. "Good morning! I was gonna eat you, but you're a wolf too, so you can be my brother!"
Perhaps the mother wolf should have known better than to let this foolishness persist, but there was a remarkable resemblance in the soquili colt... Her predatory mind turned, clicked, and a dark smile spread across her muzzle. "Welcome to the family, Samaran."
Although the pack had it's moment of doubt at seeing their potential breakfast arriving safe and unharmed, a moment aside with the mother wolf quickly convinced them it was truly in their best interest. Earning the little foal's trust was simple, convincing him he belonged despite his gangly height and hooves was an easy task for such a young creature. Once little Samaran was firmly entrenched in the pack, he was only too willing to betray his race and act as bait for his family.
What foal wouldn't come when they heard another foal calling to play? What mare wouldn't respond to a sad plea from a sweet little thing with a fluffy tail? Samaran lured them all into the jaws of the wolf pack, and devoured them with as much gusto as his wolf brethren. As he grew into his role he perfected his tactics, and his brother Vuk grew to be his secret shadow, the lethality behind Samaran's guise. Their ties grew stronger than blood, separated only at the border between the dark forest and light meadows during their vicious hunt. The victim only ever saw Samaran's smile, never the teeth that waited in the shadows.
The pack lived the easy life for a time, courtesy of their former breakfast, travelling from herd to herd to pick off the most gullible and never staying long enough for the soquili to wise up on Samaran's deception. But still, rumours grew. A literal wolf in sheep's clothing. Don't go out at night, don't stray from the herd, don't talk to strangers, the wolf soquili will get you. Carnivorous, bloodthirsty and sly, it's forsaken it's family and will betray you right from the start, so keep a wary eye out.
Whether treason or practicality, Samaran's life was with Vuk and wolves, and they were all the family he needed. He was a predator deep down inside, his wolf-like features were a testament to that. If taking the lives of his kind were judged to be evil, he would simply live forever outside their judgement and continue to be the wolf he was born to be. |
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Posted: Fri Jan 09, 2009 8:21 am
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My, what big teeth you have!
Soq Name: Cantus
Soq Temper: Chaotic
Wolf's Name: Chorus
Story:
Who am I? Even I myself don’t know that answer, nor does Chorus. He’s just a mindless, babbling creature...what’s to say that I am not? It’s really up to those who have crossed paths with me to decide, yes?
I do not remember having another kin, any relations whatsoever. When I awoke, I was already stripped of a warm home, a family, which didn’t really matter, I had thought. I didn’t know much of the world, just peered around blearily with my new opened eyes. Chorus stumbled across me when I was already beginning to walk, and although he tried to eat me, I kicked him with a hoof, causing him to yelp with pain. It was then he decided that it was not worth eating a small bony foal and walked away.
I, though, was curious, as he was the first living, walking creature I had ever since, and followed him. Despite Chorus’s many tries to throw me off his path by slinking into the shadows and darting about from the many clever hiding places he had in the wood, I pranced after him nimbly. He was surprised, and fatigued after a long chase, didn’t care if I followed him anymore, and made his way back home.
He had a mate, Chorus. A clever wily wolf that appraised me with a glance and let me into their cave.
It turned out that they had no children and they raised me as one of their own.
Of course, as a young foal, I was adventurous and often went out exploring with my new family, as they taught me the secrets of their survival. Though I was interested to learn at first, I soon became bored as soon, there was nothing left for me to learn.
It was then, in the shadows, I saw the first of my kind. It was a pretty red mare and Chorus observed that she was brave to come near the dangers of our home. I shushed him and continued to watch her as she came, spying on her as she sniffed the flowers, talked to the smaller creatures that inhabited the woods. Because of her, I refused to kill them despite Chorus and his mate telling me that I had to do so to survive. I wanted her to come back; I wanted to see her constantly.
Then one day, she returned with another. I thought nothing much of it, and shrugged it off.
Another day, she and that stallion came again, her stomach now bulging. I stared at it curiously, wondering if she had eaten too much to cause her to grow as plump.
I did not see her for a few weeks, until the two brought their baskets along. I heard her say she wanted to expose them to nature, though her words rung distantly in my mind. My attention was focused on those baskets, and the little ones that had emerged from them.
Suddenly, I remembered. I remembered everything.
I remembered those cold nights I had suffered through, my eyelids shut, the rain pouring mercilessly on my frail body, and wondered...why had I not been protected by those intricately woven things as they had?
A strange emotion rose within me, hot, raging and blinding.
The next thing I knew, I was gazing down at the bloodied bodies of the family, especially at her face, enchanted by how the dark hues of the blood seemed to complement the colours of her coat.
I was interrupted by a growl and turned to face Chorus’s mate. She berated me for killing them, for it would draw attention to us and that others would notice their disappearance and come and find them.
“And they will find you, dead too!”
She had been planning to kill me all along, I realised, as she leapt at me with a snarl upon her lips. Raise me until I was no longer that bony creature I had been, and then kill me and feast upon me.
She had forgotten to take into consideration that I had also grown stronger.
I easily killed her and left her carcass near the dead family.
I saw Chorus, huddling in the bushes, shaking wildly but what he had saw. I promised not to kill him if he would become my ally, for he was the one who had found me after all. One betrayal and I would kill him as I had his mate.
He agreed.
Till this day, we roam the lands, preying on those foolish enough to bring their family near to our home. Silly ones, they are. Silly ones.
I will never forget her though. The red one.
The one whose head I still have in my den.
And Darkness and Decay and the Red Death held illimitable dominion over all.
Soq Name: Finale
Soq Temper: Unstable
Rat's Name: Tempo
Story:
What? This rat? Oh no, don’t kill it. You wouldn’t like to be hit by a curse, would you? No, no, not by me, I do not have such a power to lay curses, nor am I an old spirit thought capable of doing so. I’m just myself, that’s who I am, yes. The faithful servant to a demon. What demon you ask?
Why, this demon of course.
How can a mere rat be a demon? You ask.
Are you that easily fooled by appearances? He is, in fact a demon, my master! Don’t you dare insult my master!
...His name? Oh yes, his name. His name, his name......no, is too frightful to even utter his name, his title, what evil he has caused! He tells me to call him by a simple name, called Tempo. Tempo! Isn’t it a lark? Such a name for a demon! The one that slows and quickens the tempo of heartbeats with his mere presence! Ahaha! Such a fitting nickname it is, do you not think so?
Me? Oh why talk about me? I’m just a simple mare, choosing to follow in the footsteps of a feared creature to bring chaos to this world. Chaos is so fun! Seeing those run here and there, not knowing where to go, befuddled, addled, insane....hah! How delightfully fun!
Tempo calls me Finale. Ehehe, Finale! I am the crushing defeat that is delivered to our victims; the one who calls upon the grand finale of their life! A great name for a great murder indeed!
Massacres aren’t easy to attempt, of course. Tempo is wise though, wise! His form in this world, he chose a rat, a rat who can scuttle about unnoticed, spreading plagues, diseases, oh how fun! How exciting it is to see them panic! I laugh, really, I do.
He’s the one who spreads the sickness about, and I, regale them with my mysterious presence, sometimes appearing here, appearing there, even in their imagination! I’m a sign, warning them of their impending doom as they struggle against their fate.
And when they’re about to go, I appear at their doors and sweep them away. Me, Finale!
It is my duty.
Ahaha, how fun it is, to be the one who draws the red curtain of finale on their lives!
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Posted: Fri Jan 09, 2009 8:37 am
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And Darkness and Decay and the Red Death held illimitable dominion over all.
Word count: 581
Soq Name:Brievta
Soq Temper:Calculating
Rat's Name:Nixer
Story:
It was always cold when she walked through the outlands of the soquili domain. They never saw her, never understood what it was she wanted. That is why...every last one of them would fall. Though it was odd for a soquili to do so, she purred in her excitement growing with each passing footstep. It was a sickening thing they saw, masked, bloody, the thing of nightmares.
She saw a basket laying hidden in an underbrush. Who would be careless enough to leave such a tender prize in her domain? A hoof raised to crush it, and the life that settled with in the little basket. Oh she remembered the day she was born, beautiful wings adorned her back but others were jealous of her, and the beauty that she was.
Distant memories came flying to her mind, "I will stand taller than any other Soquili before me." She had announced to the herd she'd lived in since birth. They laughed. "Right, a narcissist like you will lead the herd to greatness? You're wings are tainted. You're nothing more than a foul mare."
They were jealous, at least that is what she'd thought.
One night they caught her outside the domain, looking at her reflection, they pushed her down, teeth ripping, hooves breaking skin and bone. She lay there on the ground barely breathing, her mind shattered. "This is the decision of the whole herd. You're weak and useless, too caught up in your own looks to be an asset. Die here. Her mind drifted from consciousness, pain stripping her mind. Days passed as she waited...for what? Death. Her herd destroyed her, abandoned her...there was no reason to live. A small voice, spoke to her, "You...are...Soquili..." That was all she heard as she felt small paws working. She slept through almost everything.
When she finally awoke, she saw herself covered in bandages. Blooded, torn. She looked for the creature who had taken care of her. The rat shied away, a little taken aback by the mare's distorted face. She could not understand why he would back away till she saw her reflection. She cried, tears falling down into the puddle that showed her once beautiful face as nothing more than a scarred and torn mask. Her hoof smashed down into the water and she looked at the rat. "Make me a mask and do it quick. I mean to break them every way they broke me." Anger. Something she'd never known, boiled inside her. She would kill every last one of them...
Looking down, the mare scowled at the basket before her. It was innocent. A newling in an old world. She lowered her hoof, many of them were already dead, tortured by her own mind. Brought to death in the most excruciating ways possible. She walked away from the basket, innocence was one thing she did not trouble. Had it been a foal already born, she would have ruined it like any other. But a basket...
Nixer looked up at her, "You...leave it?" He saw the look in her eyes and simply nodded. No reason to question his mistress. She knew who she wanted to harm, and little helpless things were not it. The chase and the torturing, that's what she loved. The calculating to gain the end she wanted. That was what she thrived on. Silently he followed her footsteps, they were strong, stronger than when he'd found her, and more menacing than when she was a beauty. Oh how he adored the evil mare.
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