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 Posted: Sun Mar 22, 2009 11:22 pm
A QUICK IC INTRODUCTION...
Rarely did anyone see Oyohusa outside of the burial ground, but for some time he had been completely absent. It was a relief for the Kawani village not to have to keep a watchful eye on his movements. All they could do was fear his return, and return he did. He moved slowly through the fields, never stopping to rest or sleep. In human form he was nothing to fear, appearing like a tree that is dead and hollow on the inside. He was thin and bony, swallowed up by a torn and ragged brown fur that ran from a fearsome face crowning his head to the shredded ends that trailed along the ground. The crescent moonlight was certainly not kind to his features, but beauty wasn't the reason he preferred the cover of night.
No creature of nature would recognize him or fear him as he was then, which was all well and good for the moment. He rather enjoyed surprises. Any animal that got a close look at him would see only a frail, silver-haired traveler keeping warm under a fur. The truth was, he didn't have the ability to remove that pelt if he wanted to (and he didn't). You could say it, and the bloodthirsty passion that came with it, had grown on him. But most of that was the past, and beside the point right now.
Oyohusa's long travels had not been in vain. He'd acquired some fascinating new herbs and mushrooms to experiment with, as well as the old standards. A few hours with the mortar and pestle and he'd have enough corpse powder to curse the entire population of the Kawani village twice over. But getting rid of such a fun group of people so fast just wasn't his style. Not to mention, getting caught trespassing would put him on the business end of a few dozen arrows. He'd pass.
It was much better to take things slowly to create the most beautiful catastrophe, and act through proxies - the gentle descendants of the Wind Horse, revered by the Kawani. When he was done with them, they wouldn't be nearly as gentle. And it'd be a nice secret between his new Skinwalkers and himself that he was behind their new and better forms. It didn't take much corpse powder to get horses to see things from his point of view... the Kawani would be destroyed, suffer for what they had done.
AND A QUICK OOC INTRODUCTION...
In this contest, you won't be winning a pet. You actually have to have that beforehand. Your Soquili will be cursed and turned into a shape-shifting hellbeast known as a Skinwalker, courtesy of Oyohusa. There will be no return from it.
This contest has 3 parts, though if there are not enough entrants, it may be shaved down to just parts 1 and 4.
PART 1 - RP qualification!
STARTS: Now!
ENDS: Mar 25th @ 3pm PST/6pm EST
In order to participate in any part of the contest, you will have to qualify here. One person will win a cursing from this part of the contest, but I will list everyone else who qualifies so that they can move on to the future activites if they choose to do so.
PART 2 - Design-A-Demon
STARTS: Mar 26th @ evening, time TBA
ENDS: Mar 28th @ evening, time TBA
Two blank-slate cursed skinwalkers will be offered.
You do not have to pre-qualify for this, but there will be a separate prompt to gauge your RPing skill.
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Posted: Mon Mar 23, 2009 6:13 am
READ THIS OR DIE:
IMPORTANT SKINWALKER RULES
That's right, boys and girls - it's SKINWALKER TIME.
Namely, cursed skinwalkers. They're skinwalkers who weren't born skinwalker, but were changed into one with the use of Oyohusa's corpse powder. Believe me, it doesn't make them any less dangerous.
You will have a level of control over which species of skinwalker you can get from this contest, but the coloration of the pelt and animal form will be up to the colorist.
All skinwalkers have it in their nature to kill anything and everything, but delight particularly in killing humans and other Soquili of all breeds. Skinwalkers aren't sustenance hunters - they kill for fun. They do it often.
They are at odds with the Angeni, the only breed with the power to match them equally. Angeni cannot be cursed.
They make Kalonas look loving - skinwalkers cannot love, and cannot lifemate. And for them to have children is a perversion of their very nature - breedings that a skinwalker is involved in rarely involve the survival of the mate. The children of a union between cursed skinwalker and any breed will not result in pelted offspring - their children would actually be quite normal. Cuterthanyou is a fashionable bag lady. Psychological issues would not be passed on genetically, as the curse can only be passed on by the powder. Only two pure skinwalkers breeding together can produce children with pelts. But all skinwalkers despise the very idea of bringing new life into the world. Their job, their hell-given mission, is to eradicate it.
In short, skinwalkers are pure evil. They're not nice. They're not parents. They lack compassion, and seek impulsively to fulfill their own basic needs. A skinwalker will never remember who it was once cursed, can never go back to being who it was, and will remain a skinwalker until death. The pelt cannot be removed, not even to take down like a hood.
We reserve the right to not curse any soquili if we do not believe there are any quality entries. Skinwalkers require responsibility on the part of the owner RPing them.
Enter this contest at your own risk!
The curse is irreversible.
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Posted: Mon Mar 23, 2009 6:15 am
PROMPT & FORM
The night before is a blur. You remember a fur-wearing two-legger visiting in the night and speaking to you of new purpose, a rotten smelling powder which seemed to burn you nose, your skin, your mind. Then, when the burning stopped, the screams of both horse and two-legger filled the air. They must have been the same horses and two-leggers who litter the ground before you, all dead - which is a shame, because you could really go for some fresh blood right about now. You awaken dazed at first but the bloodthirsty haze quickly clouds your thoughts. You feel perfectly in tune with your primal urges, and would not hesitate to kill. It's rather in your nature to be executing those pitiful beasts. You would not think for a moment that you had been anything but the very avatar of death your whole life, except that...... you have no life to look back on. The memories have been burned out of you by corpse powder, washed away with the blood of innocents.
One of the dead horses almost seems... familiar. It's too late for your memories - nothing ever comes to mind about the corpse, no matter how hard you look. After a filling and nutritious breakfast (no need to walk far), you move on. You will never be satisfied until all of creation lies at your feet, bleeding from throats torn out by your teeth.
In 1500 words or less, fill in the memory gaps and tell me what happened to your newly-cursed Soquili last night.
(NOTE: You may godmod Oyohusa in your prompt - he can speak to horses.)
THE FORM - PART 1 [color=darkblue]
[b]Soq's name:[/b] (the full name, not a nickname)
[b]Soq cert:[/b] (IN LINK FORM KTHX)
[b]Soq uncert:[/b] (IN LINK FORM KTHX)
[b]Personality pre-cursing:[/b] (KEEP IT SHORT PLZ)
[b]History pre-cursing:[/b] (KEEP IT SHORT PLZ)
[b]What is CuterThanYou?:[/b] (HINT: Read the SW rules)
[b]Pelt preference:[/b] (Cat / wolf / coyote / surprise me)
[b]Prompt Response:[/b] (1500 words or less)
[/color]
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Posted: Mon Mar 23, 2009 9:01 am
Soq's name: Paris
Soq cert: Certed
Soq uncert: Uncerted
Personality pre-cursing: Snobish, immature, sassy, stuck up and down-right uncaring.
History pre-cursing: Paris has slept with everyone on the block (she's maxed out) and has the offspring to prove it. From her first breeding she abandoned her wind daughter, Maui, out of the pure fact she was annoyed by the filly and discusted by how innocent and angelic her daughter was. The second breeding she abandoned all together, never even met her children. It wasn't until she landed a breeding with a kalona did she finally give a damn. Her son Parixaeus, a half kalona and elitist like her, is her only pride. Save for being drawn to evil (like kalonas) naturally, she ignorantly seeks out danger---travelling alone all the time, naively.
What is CuterThanYou?: a fashionable bag lady. xd
Pelt preference: Most likely a cat. It suits her a bit more than wolf.
Prompt Response: "And you are?" the mare sneered. A dark, mangled and violent looking man loomed before her, half hidden in shadows. Or was it a creature? It wreaked of blood and evil...so she couldn't be sure. There came no answer. Nothing but a slow shadowed smirk. "Piss off creap!" she pressed on, "You're in my way." Still no answer...but now a laugh. Low, deep, frightening. Something was wrong, but that bothered Paris none. The stranger raised a hand. Paris snorted stiffly. She wasn't about to be bullied away. But something---something was in his hand. Before she had time to think, her eyes and nose were burning. The world was reeling, there were screams and splashes of blood before her. Someone in the distance was talking to her...like some sort of dark subconcious; she tried to listen, but it was difficult. Normally, such a bewildering experiance would scare another Soquili stiff---but this was enjoyable. Enjoyable to lose one's self in it. To allow the soul to free-fall into darkness. No more worries, no more cares...just the pure desire of blood, of killing. Her eyes flickered open. Corpses lay before her. Who cared who they were?! She wanted more of it. Slinking away in a fit of giggles she found before her two fillies playing in a glen. A primary roar of fury bellowed from the very depths of her. She wanted to see the fear in the eyes of her victum, right before her fangs silenced them in mid-shriek. The warmth of blood, the bitter but delicious taste was orgasmic. She relished in the moment, then lifted her head and sniffed. Should she hide to wait for the mother? Yes, yes she wanted to see the mother's anguish, then she too could join them after shedding useless tears over her mangled babies. It was indeed wonderful, a new day, a new life...she wanted to see how much more destruction she could cause. How many more she could kill. Oh how she would count the corpses and the minutes.
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Posted: Mon Mar 23, 2009 9:38 am
Soq's name: Zamir
Soq cert: Zamir Cert
Soq uncert: Zamir Uncert
Personality pre-cursing: Zamir was a rather quiet and shy soquili, when around others. He has a constant inability to stay still and heavily stuttering voice. Though when alone, he tends to let his other, happier side go and turns into a playful like foal. But lately, he rarely plays in the meadows with the birds. Instead, he has become resentful.
History pre-cursing: Zamir entered this world painted as an American Tree Sparrow, and he acted like one. Constantly moving around, never able to sit still and his speech was impaired by a heavy stuttering. When alone, Zamir would burst out into his playful, more graceful side. Dancing across the meadow, chasing his bird friends. But when with others, his shy, quiet side would show. Zamir has had his heart broken a few times in the past, and now over a year old and unable to find anything close to love and hardly any friendship, this stallion has turned his behavior to resent. Zamir now feels a growing hate toward other soquili, thinking that all they will do is shatter his heart and soul, and that the laughter from them will only continue forever. He can't change who he is to stop this...or can he?
What is CuterThanYou?: fashionable bag lady biggrin
Pelt preference: Cat
Prompt Response: A nightmare... The grey and brown body of the stallion swaggered to his hoofs, his eyesight and mind blurry. Zamir tried to remember what had happened, but his mind failed to bring the past. As his vision came to, he was surrounded by death. Dead horses, dead two leggers. The scent of blood wafted through the air, and triggered a new feeling in him; a new desire. He had to have it...he had to have blood.
It took Zamir only a few minutes to find, kill and catch a few small rabbits, tear them to shreds and eat their raw flesh. His head seemed clearer now that he had eaten, and he went back toward the dead. His mind continued to bring up nothing, the soft skin of a wild cat now caressing and covering most of his body. He took a confident step forward, only to freeze. A two-legger stood not far from him, he too was wearing a animal pelt. " Two-legger, I demand to know what happened here..and to me." Zamir's own voice had come to a complete shock to him. He had sounded more brave, and more confident. Most of all...no stuttering! The two-legger moved closer, laughing slightly. His laughter...
Zamir had been wandering about, ears pressed down against his skull. He had suffered yet another grueling laughter attack by a small herd of soquili. His stuttering, his fear, his quiet ways. They were not right. They only brought him pain, and misery. Lost in his thoughts, Zamir had not realized where he was walking. A scream ricocheted in his head, awakening him and frightening him. As he focused, there was chaos. Horses and two-leggers trying to flee...but from what? A fur-covered two-legger laughed, reached into a leather satchel on his belt and blew a fine powder into the chaos. Zamir couldn't run, it was to late. The foul smelling powder had gotten into his system, burning at his nostrils. He tried to snort, to remove it but nothing would work. His whole body now felt like it was on fire, his mind and vision beginning to blur. Without warning, Zamir started to lash out blindly at those running past him. He stomped the humans to death with his hooves, ripped at the throats of other horses running past him. The taste of blood, it drove him. He found killing was fun too, chasing down a running prey. But the burning, and his unfocused mind soon brought his killing spree to an end. He stood still, his legs feeling like they would give under him. He stared ahead at the fur-covered two-legger, who now spoke to him. " Easy, you will have plenty of time to kill soon enough. Bring darkness to this world in your new form. You have inhaled my beloved corpse powder, a powder that will turn all but the ...angeni species...into hated, dreaded yet beautiful skinwalkers. You will become one of them now, you will no longer have to fear others laughing at you, or foul women breaking your heart, young Zamir." The stallion looked surprised, he could understand this two-legger, and the two-legger knew who he was. " H-how d-..d-o you kn-know of m-m-me? He stuttered at the two-legger, who again laughed. " My name is Oyohusa. I'm feared among soquili and man. I created the dreaded corpse powder. Surely, someone who has created something as such, would be able to know the names and history of a few soquili? Besides, I've heard them. The others, speak of you. Laugh at you. The reminder and truth in Oyohusa's words stung and made Zamir's blood boil. As a skinwalker, he would be dreaded and be able to kill any who opposed him. The stallion shook his head again, trying to clear it but the two-legger held up a thin, silvery hand. " Let it overtake you. Life will be easier...and a lot more fun upon your awakening" As Oyohusa lowered his hand, the stallion lowered to the ground, drifting into a deep unconsciousness.
The memory ended and Zamir came back into the present. He still stared at the one named Oyohusa before him. His life would be better..easier..and he had this strong desire to kill. He no longer felt fear, his tongue no longer got tied up in his words. He would be able to kill anything he desired. A wicked smirk crossed his mouth, he bowed to Oyohusa, before turning and running into the blackened forest around him. The scream of a wild animal dying at the hooves of the new born skinwalker made Oyohusa smile before he too turned to go seek his next victim.
word count: 782
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Posted: Mon Mar 23, 2009 7:56 pm
Soq's name: Lord Soth
Soq cert: Cert
Soq uncert: Uncert
Personality pre-cursing: A cruel b*****d.
History pre-cursing: Lord Soth wanted to be an honorable and good stallion but it seemed impossible. Honor was there but he was rather cruel. He killed his first mate whom he believed had been unfaithful. He hooked up with another which he genuinely loved, but when their son was born a mutated monster, Soth destroyed him. He saw the son as a curse/punishment for his past deeds. This lead to the mare leaving him and that only intensified the darkness within him. He is a loner because he knows that a danger lurks deep within him and though evil is natural to him, he wants to be better.
What is CuterThanYou?: fashionable bag lady
Pelt preference: Surprise me
Prompt Response: It felt natural to him. The need to kill, to hurt...to destroy everything that came into his path. It was so strong of a need that it ranked up there with food, water and air. The scent of blood from the bodies that cluttered the ground did not repulse him. In fact, it excited him. He almost ached with the longing to kill. He had done this. One of the mares looked familiar to him and he recalled her calling his name last night, shortly before he killed her. In what way had he known her? He was mildly curious but corpses could not speak.
While images flashed into his head from time to time, he could recall little from his previous life. His name was the only thing he was certain of. He was Lord Soth. Who he had been before last night no longer mattered to him. He had been reborn and he was enjoying it.
The two-legger had bestowed upon him a gift though he could not remember why. He knew that many referred to it as a curse but how could he? He had been handed everything he desired, or so he believed. It felt too natural to him to not have already been there. Of course, it was possible that he had been different before and this was indeed a curse that changed him drastically. It was also possible that the two-legger had seen great potential within him and merely unleashed it.
Regardless of what led to his current state, he had no complaint. Though he had nothing to compare it to, he felt complete. The only thing that could make this any better was a fresh kill. Last night had been wonderful and addicting. Upon the two-leggers command and supervision, he had transformed for the first time. In his animal form he had jumped between horses and two-leggers, mauling them blissfully. Even now, he was awed be the many gashes and bites that adorned their still bodies. It had been so easy. He revered in the fact that they never stood a chance and he craved that feeling again. He would have to make this a nightly ritual.
Lord Soth was determined to own the night and give others something to truly fear.
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Posted: Mon Mar 23, 2009 8:11 pm
Soq's name: Samus
Soq cert: Samus' Cert
Soq uncert: Samus' Uncert
Personality pre-cursing:
Samus is a bit of a unpredictable wind stallion who is a bit anti social when it comes to others. pretty much he is a bit aqward when it comes to social interactions but he trys his best to be nice. always ending up saying the wrong thing because of his bluntness, he tends to avoid social intereactions and if someone pisses him off he is not above retaliating with brute force even if he dislikes violance.
History pre-cursing:
always been the loner, he has no friends and figures it best that way since he tends to push others away from him wether it be from his bluntness or from his unpredictable nature. being that he is unpredicable in his emotions, he has never kept a friend but one who he managed to save from a kalona but it almost cost him his wing in the process. but overall asided from his desire to be a loner and even though he has few that he could call friends, he is your typical normal stallion with a few quirks about him that make him well him.
What is CuterThanYou?: Cuterthanyou is a fashionable bag lady ;]
Pelt preference: Wolf
Prompt Response:
Samus was roaming alone that night alone in the forest as his wing aching had caused him to wake up and unable to sleep a nice walk was something he figured would help him get to sleep again. Tossing his mane, he knew of the dangers that lurked in the night and knew to avoid those dangers. Unlike some foolish soquili, he had healthy respect for the skinwalkers and kalona that roamed the same land as him and made it a point to avoid them specialy after he had been mauled by a kalona once before when trying to save a new found friend. He had paid the price though for being the hero and now with his wing still healing, he was not flying as much as he use to. Someone alone at night is never safe no matter if they feel they are, where there is always something lurking in waiting for the right moment to strike. well let’s just say samus was in the wrong place at the wrong time. One minute he was alone, enjoying his walk the next he was attacked and roped, unable to do anything to get away no matter how much he struggled. Growling, his green eyes narrowed as he eyed Oyohuse as he got closer to him with a pouch in one hand and a malicious smirk.“You’re just perfect and being a loner no one will ever miss you. but after this I doubt very much you will be caring if your missed or not when you won’t remember anything.” Oyohuse laughed while samus stood still in shock at being able to understand every word he said. He watched as Oyohuse took a hand full of some powdered substance from his pouch. Ears pinned back, he tried to back away as it was blown into his face. It didn’t take long before the corpse powder started to affect his memory and take control.
Samus gave a small snarl as everything that had happen was now but a blur in his mind and that was something he was not happy about when he usually was always aware of what went on around him. It was very unlike him to be this off guard and completely unaware as to what went on. His nose flared and wrinkled his muzzle as his nose had a burning sensation as well as his body which didn’t help any when he was trying to remember what the hell had happened. Suddenly the next thing he knew he was attacking those that where near him and he had no care as to why or how the hell they where there but their screams where music to his ears. All he knew was he had a thirst for blood that needed satisfying and he was doing exactly that. Covered in blood, his thoughts where clouded but the need to kill and the want for blood was still there despite the fact there was some soquili as two leggers already dead at his feet. Soquili and two leggers already dead but did him no good though as he was no scavenger and wanted the thrill of the kill. Licking his lips, he stared at one of the corpses for a long moment and shook his head before moving on. After all that happened he had no memory of any of those he had met before or how he had use to be and could only recall always being the cold hearted killer he was now. word count: 584
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Posted: Tue Mar 24, 2009 12:31 am
Soq's name: Kanti Nuttah
Soq cert: X
Soq uncert: X
Personality pre-cursing: True to the meaning of her name, 'My Heart Sings,' Kanti has lived her life completely following her heart. She seems unable to determine whether her actions are logical or not, rather jumping into a decision headfirst it just ‘feels right.’
History pre-cursing: Kanti was born to a playful and cheery father that was never around and a mother who was meek and fearful. As she grew in age, she began to resent the feeble life that her mother lived. She did everything she could to grow to become the opposite that her mother was, which led to her loyalty to the stallion Aveshar(whom she decided to go with in a split-second decision). Loving the feeling of fear that he brought, she became extremely obsessive about him, wanting only to be more than a ‘pet’ to him.
What is CuterThanYou?: A fashionable bag lady 8]
Pelt preference: Cat would fit her best~
Prompt Response:
The lingering smell of death made her shiver with delight, bright red eyes gleaming as she looked greedily over the bodies before her. The skinwalker walked among the dead, her steps making a soft sloshing noise in the dirt that was now moist with rain and tears and blood. Kanti Nuttah let out a long, refreshed breath and let her eyes flutter closed in intoxicated pleasure, her head tilting back so the light of dawn shone on her grinning face.
"What do you mean, proposition, two-legger?" Kanti raised an eyebrow, not sure what to think of the pelted two-legger that stood before her. She stood tall, though, tilting her head to the side and examining the man with an inquisitive gaze. The mare had been warned not to wander around during the night, especially around here, but she hadn't seen Aveshar lately and he seemed like one to wander around at this time… She drifted off into her head, and almost didn't notice when the human spoke again.
"Your heart," he began, spitting the second word as if it burned his mouth, "it sings. It wails sad, terrible songs of wish and wonder…" His voice faded as he neared the black mare, a certain gleam in his eyes as he grew closer, and Kanti found that she wished to back away, though her legs wouldn't move. Something about his words, about his entire being, drew her in, made her wish for more… Her mouth cracked open, but she didn't speak.
"What is it that you want, young one? Strength? Power? To kill? I can see it, deep in your being. And, you see, I can give it all to you…"
Kanti had drifted back into her head, thinking about his words. Strength? Power? Killing? No, she didn't think she wanted any of those… Her brow furrowed. There really was only one thing she wanted. Aveshar… And she had him, didn't she? Well no, not really. But it was good enough, wasn't it?
Well, no, it wasn't. She didn't have him to herself, per say. In fact, she didn't have him at all, it was the other way around. At the realization, she made a face and began to think of the two-legger's words. Strength? Power? If she had those, maybe her Dark Song would be hers after all. And killing? Why yes, he'd enjoy that very much… Kanti nodded quickly, yes, yes, it all made sense now. She grinned to the two-legger, who was starting to seem now much less eerie than he had before.
"I accept your 'proposition,'" she started, her tone a little too cheery considering what she had agreed to, but it was probable that she didn't exactly know. "Now, what exactly is it that I have to do in return?"
The two-legger made his way even closer and pulled a black pouch from somewhere beneath the pelt he wore and delicately unwound the top, pouring its contents into his palm. "You've already done your part by accepting. Everything will fall into place…" The powder made the mare cough and snort in disgust, but she didn't move away, eyeing it. "Just breath this in, and everything will be taken care of…"
Kanti was ecstatic. Her soul(though 'soul' was a little farfetched) was singing with the sense of completion that the feeling of death brought her. She wanted to stick her nose in the blood and roll in the filth and the death and bask in the eternal feeling of taking lives. It felt natural now, as if she was born to do this. She pranced around the bodies, taking in the faces and the emotions of the dead, the terror and the agony and the fear. They truly were afraid. Of her. And it felt good.
The sauntering continued until the red orbs fell upon a delicate pale form. Kanti's steps came to a halt. A mare lay on her side, her eyes wide and blank. No fear was seen on her form, only true sorrow and pain. The skinwalker hissed and walked quickly towards the corpse. Something about the purity of the body, even with the smear of blood around the neck and chest, disgusted her. She stood towering over the lifeless form, glaring down at the figure that for some reason made her wrench with hatred. Her muscles tensed and she was overcome with a want to rip the lifeless body apart.
"Kanti!" The soft, yet strangely alarmed voice of her mother rang out from behind, and the mare swiftly turned, glaring at the form that was bright and pale in the dark night. Kaelyn's eyes widened as she saw the two-legger, recognizing danger where her daughter did not.
"Mother," Kanti hissed the word, twitching her tail angrily, "can't you see I'm busy? Leave me alone!" She shook her head quickly and looked to the two-legger again, then to the powder in his hand…
"Please!" The albino called once more, her voice filled with anguish. "Please leave her be! She is foolish and young and knows nothing of the world. Please, have mercy!" The mare didn't dare come closer; something about the two-legger seemed to ward her off.
Kanti's head swung back towards her mother, seething. Foolish? Young? She was wiser than her mother could ever be. She knew was she was doing. The mare ignored her mothers pleading, turning back to the two-legger who's expression remained stoic. Her mother was wrong, and Kanti knew better. Or so she believed, as she dropped her head into the two-legger's palm and inhaled deeply.
The skinwalker spat on the now mangled corpse, turning away in victory and standing tall. It was as if she had been shone the light, and the true meaning of her life had appeared. Nothing else mattered before this night, when she had tasted blood and met death, and there was no going back. Kanti Nuttah, the roaring song, was now born.
Word count-989
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Posted: Tue Mar 24, 2009 7:06 am
(Agreeing that lone can enter Zamir in this event <3)
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Posted: Tue Mar 24, 2009 5:52 pm
[ I've a question for the fourth bit of this contest~
For the blank slate walkers, do we need to have an existing Soq already, or is this a completely blank slate? o 3o; ]
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Posted: Tue Mar 24, 2009 7:14 pm
Soq's name: Harper
Soq cert: Click
Soq uncert: Click
Personality pre-cursing: Harper is a b***h to pretty much everyone she meets. She has a hatred in her heart for anyone who isn't a fullblooded uni. She thinks the grounded are rats and the winds are winged rats. She's unafraid to speak her mind and it usually hurts someone. She also has a second personality (which is not quite evolved yet).
History pre-cursing: Harper was born of Anansi - a regular, and Arithyl, a pure Uni. Although she is a full Uni in looks, she's hardly a healer. She was raised with her sister, Addie, who is even more twisted than she is. Their playtimes usually ended in bloodshed of a forest animal and due to that, Harper was sent away to live in a teepee with her grandma and estranged and childish 'cousin' Lani, who she dislikes. She actually dislikes everyone in the teepee except the self-proclaimed protector, an Angeni who stays out of her business.
What is CuterThanYou?: A fashionable bag lady biggrin
Pelt preference: Cat
Prompt Response: (1500 words or less)
He knelt down beside her. Her nostrils flared, silver eyes widening to glare at the filthy two-leg. He was covered in fur, like an animal, but there was no mistaking that disgusting human-blood scent. Harper pinned her ears and made to stand. He had the nerve to put his hand on her shoulder.
"Wait." His voice thrummed with command. And...she could understand him?
"What?" she spat back.
"You have a certain...repulsion for everyone around you." His dark eyes narrowed and he patted her shoulder. She flinched. His other hand was clasped around something around his neck.
"So? Maybe they're not worthy?"
He gave a small grin. "Would you like to be worthy?"
"I already am worthy," Harper replied easily, haughtily.
"Oh, but you aren't..."
She lunged to her feet in a surge. He was on his as well, scrambling backwards. His lips moved but no sound came out. The thing around his neck was shattered and he threw something at her. It burned her nose and her eyes. She was blinded with something other than rage. She gave a scream, lashing out, but her body twitched and writhed. Everything burned... Everything was on fire.
"Be worthy..." His words were a whisper.
She gave another scream but it was strangled...haunted...animalistic. She shuddered, her heart growing hot and cold as another crossed her path, looking upon her with a strange distaste in their eyes.
How dare they.
Someone screamed. No. Something, not someone. They were no one to her. They were pathetic lives on the line. Her body was hot, overbearingly burning but the pain stopped. Something warm coated her fur, dripping down the sides of her lips. The metallic twinge lingered in her mouth.
It tasted delicious...
Sight was upon her once again. Harper pricked her ears, looking down at the twisted, mangled mess that was once a teepee mate. She looked down at his blue and red pelt, more red than blue, ripped and torn and just seeping there on the ground. The earth was drinking up his blood. She didn't know who he was.
She didn't care.
Harper lowered her head and began to feast upon his fresh flesh. Her teeth were sharper, stranger than normal.
With a flick of her tail, she looked up. Her eyes scanned the horizon. Something inside of her flickered. Something was close... She had to move. Her muscles leapt into action, leaving the bodies of her fallen fellows behind.
"Oh, what have you done..."
Harper froze then, her head turning back. Standing in her wake was a crimson-pelted Angeni, her wings flared out. Harper's grin turned into a sneer. The mare looked shocked. Anger burned in her red eyes.
"What I've done is none of your concern," she purred out easily, turning away once more, turning her back on her once-friend. Her only friend.
"I'll let you run this time," Aleksei growled. "But you will never be safe. I will hunt you down and do to you what you've done to them..."
The newly-born skinwalker tossed her head with a gleeful grin. In a voice that no one but herself could hear, she laughed. "I look forwards to it." And she lunged into the forest, never looking back. ((wordcount: 531 :: my aleksei was used, hope that's ok))
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Posted: Tue Mar 24, 2009 8:38 pm
ArashiX [ I've a question for the fourth bit of this contest~
For the blank slate walkers, do we need to have an existing Soq already, or is this a completely blank slate? o 3o; ] They will be pre-made and pre-colored, but the particulars of their personalities and histories will be up to the entrants.
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Posted: Tue Mar 24, 2009 9:23 pm
Soq's name: Bramble
Soq cert: .x.
Soq uncert: .x.
Personality pre-cursing: Bramble is the kind Samaritan you might meet on the streets. He helps anyone he might feel needs help, and what's more he genuinely cares. One of his personality faults is that he can be a bit of a pushover – he is so concerned about doing what others want/like that he tends to lose his own battles and continually comes out on the bottom. But he is so reliable it is sickening, if he says he'll do it then he will and if he cannot he goes into a short-term depression. At this stage in the game, he is still rather naïve, believing that strangers are just friends you haven't met yet and that the world is made of butterflies.
History pre-cursing: He's spent the vast majority of his time with Nagual-An and her little 'family'. Bramble doesn't know his mother, and his father is gone on adventures all the time so he rarely sees him either. It was only recently that he's started to explore and meet others, and that was when his precious Aunt Fennel left. Bramble has had very little interaction with others except those that grew up with Uncle Bramby around and left for their own stories to begin. Everything he knows about the world is by stories – stories his Gramma Nagual told or those that his father Thistle told on his rare appearances.
What is CuterThanYou?: a fashionable bag lady
Pelt preference: Surprise Me
Prompt Response:
The night sparkled, so unlike the desert where trees did not hide the stars and the sound of crickets, songs of frogs, and scurries of rodents, echoed through the boughs. Bramble was having the time of his life. Never had he strayed far from his desert home. There was a time when a fright spooked him away, but he returned shortly after. He did not sleep, could not sleep. There was much to see, hear, and taste. Not to mention the night creatures that he could not meet when the sun rose.
A branch crunched behind him. The bright stallion turned to the sound, curiosity and excitement coursing through his veins. Nothing was there, absolutely nothing. The forest was silent, and he could not recall when that had started. Disappointed that nothing approached, Bramble twisted to a new direction only to find that a two-legger stood before him. Giving a toothy smile that disappeared in his white face, Bramble bowed his head in welcome.
He loved two-leggers, even those that wore pelts. Nagual's friend Sanika wore one, and she was the kindest two-legger he knew – even if she did wear someone else at times. A kind whicker echoed through his throat, as every story he knew said the two-leggers could not understand him and he did not want to appear rude.
"A noble greeting by a noble steed," rasped a sarcastic voice from the pelted creature. "Are you alone often?"
Bramble's ears were tickled by the sound, but he brushed it aside, convincing himself it was just nerves. "Oh no, I am usually with my family but decided to begin my own tale instead of hearing them all the time." His contented perked ears and gentle smile never left his face while his muscles twitched with the anticipation of flight.
"So this is the first time you've done anything for yourself?" his eyes sparkled. "Have you always done as other's wish?"
His ear fell while a headache formed at the base of his horn; he was disappointed by the response. "I just want others to be happy…"
A smile broke out on the two-legger's face. Bramble felt his knees quiver but he ignored them. He would become more confident as he met others; this was still his first encounter since leaving home.
"Well, I may have something just for you, noble stallion." The two-legger stepped closer with each word. The sweet smell of decay encompassed Bramble's nostrils but when he ever-so-slightly sneezed it only made things worse.
"A gift, as it were, to assist you on your journey." Bramble's eyes started to water. A burning sensation started as his muzzle and worked its way to the rest of his body.
"You can live for yourself, and never again do as others tell you." He should run, but he could not see. Bramble closed his eyes tightly, trying to clear away the sensation in his mind. His horn felt aflame, as if it was starting its own battle and losing all the same.
He tried to breathe, tried to scream for help. His whole body smoldered. Bramble could not think, only the pain existed. If he could only stop the…but he's lost, and could only agonize as he felt his sense of sanity slip away. And finally, that too was gone, until all that remained was the screams, blood, and sweet satisfaction of the last moments of life slipping away brutally.
When finally Bramble returned to the present he stood glorious and stained. His shimmering pelt was splattered with the life force of others and his stomach demanded immediate sustenance. But something caught his eyes.
When he walked, he saw a tuft of purple in the carnage. Intrigued, he investigated. Something pulled on his mind, right in the center of his forehead as if something remained to pull him from this awesome feeling. As he peered down, he looked into lifeless eyes. He did not care. This one was to be the First. With a hunger he never knew he possessed, Bramble opened his maw and took his first bite of flesh. It was delicious. The succulent juices melted in his mouth and caressed his cheek. The textured fur was like kiss from a forgotten lover. And through all this, all he knew was that he must have more.
More. All for him. Only for him. Nothing else mattered except for his undying need to kill again – an addiction that knew no bounds.
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Posted: Tue Mar 24, 2009 10:17 pm
Soq's name: Antirrhinum majus
Soq cert: Cert!
Soq uncert: Uncerted Glory!
Personality pre-cursing: Antirr is mean. He prides himself in being tough and a ruthless fighter. He has a "split personality" of sorts between the good boy his mother believes him to be and the murder capable monster he holds himself to be. He is self centered and at times vein, Kalona and Skinwalkers, to him, are pathetic and viewed as weak compared to him. As of recently he's become less violent and more cunning however he keeps the temper that has been known to start fights and gotten him into a bit of trouble. With his mother he is kind and gentle, the opposite of his “true” self.
History pre-cursing: Antirr grew up with a loving mother he adores and a father he is less then satisfied with. His brother he cares for but is not attached in any sort of way. As a child he ran into and fought a grown Kalona and he still harbors hatred for the Kalona who he fought, and his grandfather for interrupting. He also dislikes Kalona because of it. He dreamed of a ruling herd, and world domination. He hoped to control Kalona, and evil beings from all other breeds. He had a Kalona female and two regular females who were his "harem", however their bickering drove him from their mists and he ran into a nice mare who was beautiful enough to cause him to do a double take. At this point in his life he is not just all destroy and conquer but also cunning, and doing what he must to get what he desires. He has a wicked temper still though. You don't want to cross him.
What is CuterThanYou?: A fashionable bag lady
Pelt preference: Cat
Prompt Response:
Rich brown eyes glowed with a new light as they took in the destruction before them. Blood oozed from corpse after succulent corpse. Rivers of the sweet liquid flowing past his hooves, calling to him. His ears twitched, for a moment hearing something. A shadow of the past night. A deep voice, sinister smile, and…power. Eyes flicked over the newly made graveyard. Nostrils flared as he turned in a flash, speed like none other. Narrowing he glared into the gloom. A voice? A ghost. Last night. The creature who smelled of rotting flesh. Words of power. Antirr glanced around, spotting the pelt. Looking over it with appreciation he wondered what the thing had meant. Power. Of course he had power. He was all power. A killer. A predator. The nightmare. Hooves, painted with dried blood, shined by fresher blood as he moved, crunched the torn arm of a pathetic two legger. Pausing, he watched the bone splinter and shatter. Tissue, muscle, and congealed blood all exploded from either side, squirting out in a manner most beautiful to the monsters eyes.
Moving away from the mashed arm he looked around him. The screams echoed in his head. Music. The cries and blood. His throat burned with the need. Blood. Closing his eyes he smiled in such a manner even the tormented and murdered souls cringed away in fear.
“You will understand. The need will drive you wild and you will obey it without question. Those pathetic fools will learn and will cower before you. Take as many as you wish, you are the creature of the night, now. Nothing, no one, will ever harm you again.”
The voice had been coarse and brittle. The little man covered in fur. And the damnable rot! His eyes opened and he glared at the murky forest. Rot. Disgusting. Rotting flesh was not his favorite, he knew this. The fresh kill, the warm, pulsing blood. The screams. A laugh escaped.
“You are not who you were. But do not concern yourself. Your life has a purpose now. Your dreams of power are yours. Go and do as your heart bids you. Nothing in this world will stop you. To the village, and any home upon the way. Let the world bow at your feet.”
Bow at his feet. Yes…He thought back farther and stopped, snarling. Nothing. Nothing past the smell and the voice. The frail old man. He looked behind him as if searching for something. Nothing. Turning a scowl blotted his once beautiful face and then a smirk appeared.
“Let the world bow at my feet…BOW TO YOUR LORD AND MASTER!” He yelled into the darkness, taking off in search of the sweet meal that would sooth his burning throat.
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Posted: Tue Mar 24, 2009 11:37 pm
Soq's name: Neva
Soq cert: Neva
Soq uncert: NevaUncert
Personality pre-cursing: Independent, Sarcastic, Revengeful
History pre-cursing: Neva had never really had friends other than the one from a long time ago. For a long time she has been trying to find ways of harming her family either physically or mental/emotionally. She has never been able to bring herself to do much if any physical harm though. Lately she's been dealing with this voice in her head that mocks her as she tries to decide between ignoring the family or going along with her plans of physically harming them. The voice is starting to get to her and she's been willing to do anything to try and get rid of it.
What is CuterThanYou?: A fashionable bag lady
Pelt preference: Cat or Wolf
Prompt Response: (1500 words or less)
Why can't you choose? It's not that hard to decide. Let's just go find some stupid weakling, and stomp them into the ground. Then we can find another and do the same thing.
"But I need a reason, don’t I?" Neva mumbled to herself. She had been doing that a lot lately. She wished she could get rid of this stupid voice in her head. She knew she wasn't crazy, but sometimes, the voice made her seem that way.
Reason? Because it is fun. That is a good enough reason. Let's just have fun.
"I don't do things just because it is fun. I am not one of those stupid Sky Dancers. I have to have a reason. Even a lame one."
As she mumbled, she passed a stallion, and a human. Ugh, she thought. How can anyone stand humans, they were so beneath her. They were only good for menial jobs, doing things that were hard to do with her hooves.
Them. Stomp on them. The human especially. Let's have fun.
"There is NO reason!! Stop bothering me" Neva mumbled, a little loudly as they passed by. The stallion, a little unnerved by her outburst, turned his head as she walked by. The human, not wanting any confrontation with so obviously a disturbed creature, just started walking faster. Neva never noticed either reaction, too involved with the voice in her head, and the implications it had been placing before her. She knew that being violent was fun, she even enjoyed the thrill when she ran into the Kalona. Apparently evil was much more her style than the benevolence her parents and family preached. Yet, there was part of her that still resisted. The voice in her head didn't help matters. It would try to convince her to do bad things, then pick on her when she did them halfway, or not at all. When she did give into the voice, it still mocked her. She wished there was something to do to make it go away.
"Am I interrupting you, Young one?" A strange human asked. He seemed to appear directly in front of Neva. He was an odd looking creature, even among the humans. He almost seemed to be a mockery of life, his skeletal frame barely seeming able to stand on its own. The fur he had wrapped about him had more to it than he did. Neva was in no mood for any humans, let alone one so obviously weak. "Go away, old man. I am in no mood to deal with your kind. I am having a seriously bad day, and you are just one more annoyance. Don't make me stomp you into a little muddy spot on the ground."
Here is your REASON. He dares stand in your way. Let's be done with him. Show him just who is the stronger. You know you want to, so do it.
"SHUT UP!!" She screamed at the voice. It was so persistent tonight. Why did it care? She would make the choice eventually, but this voice seemed to want her to make it soon.
The old man didn't seem slightly disturbed by her outburst. In fact he seemed amused. "You seem to be having troubles. I may be able to help. My name is Oyohusa, and I am a shaman, of sorts. I have a powder here, that will make all your problems go away. You will not have to worry about any of your past problems. It will just be you and your desires. Does that sound nice?"
Neva thought about it. Nice, it sounded wonderful. No more voice, no more family, no more interfering pests. Just her and her desires. "Oh yes. Please let me have it."
Oyohusa blew a puff of powder into her face, and she breathed it in. She coughed once, twice, then three times, in reflex. First she felt nothing, and thought this man to be a fraud. But soon a tingle started. The tingle grew to a fire, a burning pain that consumed her entirety. It started in her nose, but worked its way along her body, and even into her brain. She saw the stallion and his human friend running towards her, as the entire world went black. The last thing she remembered was the screams, of horse, of human, and the beautiful sound it made as she fell from consciousness.
She woke some time later, the pain now just a subtle backnote to the new feelings she had. A thirst, a hunger, a desire, stronger than anything she ever remembered feeling. Wasn't it? She realized she couldn't remember. It didn't matter. She stood, and saw two corpses at her feet. She didn't remember how they got there, but surprisingly it made her hungry. She just wished they were still alive. Though the beautiful sanguine liquid flowing from their wounds would sustain, she desired fresh blood more. But the smell, rich and metallic, triggered something primal in her mind. She bent to eat. She knew that soon enough she could find fresh, but now she was hungry.
"Do you feel your purpose now? The desire, the need, to destroy?" It was a strange human. He looked so familiar. Why couldn't she remember him? But he was fresh blood, and she was hungry. She lowered her head, staring him directly in the eye. "I know my purpose. It is to feed on things like you. You are so pathetically small, you won't be much of a snack, but you will do."
"You cannot harm me, I created you. I told you, I am Oyohusa. Now stand down."
Neva couldn't believe that this pathetic creature dared to command her. Yet even as she fumed about the insolence, she still backed off.
"I am beyond you, but there are others. I believe you mentioned something about Sky Dancers? Why don't you show those weak ones just who is stronger?"
At the term Sky Dancers, Neva felt a flicker of recognition. Where had she heard that title before? She couldn't remember, but it didn't matter. They were weak, just as all living things were weak. But for some reason, she wanted to destroy those Sky dancers first. She didn't know why, but she would make sure they all were destroyed.
Congratulations, Neva. You have finally taken that step. And I will be there for you as you walk further and further into the darkness. Welcome, and know that you can now never go back.
As Neva took to the sky, she wondered where that voice came from, and why it seemed so mocking. It didn't once occur to her, that she may just be crazy. What did it matter, after all, if she heard more than just her own voice in her head.
Word Count--->1,131
((I do have Karoish's permission to try for the skinwalker event with Neva. I'll have her post here when I see her.))
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