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 Posted: Wed May 09, 2007 4:09 pm
This is a PRP between Felyn and I (n0cturne).  Since Felyn can't access a computer until this summer, and Gaia is blocked at school, we've started a roleplay via Microsoft Word. xD It'll all be transferred to the guild by me.
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Posted: Wed May 09, 2007 4:12 pm
n0cturne The morning sun was rising slowly along the horizon, bringing the subtle hints of life to the surface with the morn. Insects began their busy hum. Grasslands chirped from all directions as they sought out their breakfast buried within the cool soil of the previous night. No wind stirred the delicate golden grasses. Yet even if it had, the sun's warmth had yet to lift the weight of heavy dew from their heads, causing their bent heaviness.
There was one observer to this symphony of waking life – a blotch of black and fire stretched across the ruddy, burnt surface of a rough boulder. The night's perspiration clung to her own thick coat, causing the mildest of shivers down her long spine. That would soon pace, a pleasant glimmer, as the sun disk climbed higher to nestle among the white clouds.
Her eyes, bright as the tip of a savanna fire flame, stared off into the distance. The edges of her mouth were turned down in a frown as she concentrated on the black, faraway mass that was quickly moving even farther. She had left the shelter of the jungle some days ago, following a herd of ibex that had somehow strayed from its native desert homeland. For days she had stayed close to their heels, causing a mass wave of insecurity to flow through the nomad group. She had felt their nervousness, just as she felt the earth beneath her paws. She had smelled it wafting from their putrid bodies. Yet it seemed the moister environment had spurred them on, lending a helping hand to their energy that was already boundless among the desert sands. When the dark lioness had paused to catch a few scant hours of sleep, the herd would move far ahead of her. Now, as this morning rose, she realized the herd was past pursuing. She also realized that her belly was quite empty, and that she had somehow found herself in an unexplored land.
Rising slowly from her reclined position, the dark lioness yawned widely. Quivering the muscles beneath her skin, she scattered the few moist drops still clinging desperately to her. There was nothing else to do but move on, she decided, as she slid smoothly from her perch.
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Posted: Wed May 09, 2007 4:18 pm
Felyn It was a habit, and perhaps a dangerous one, that led the adolescent out into his nocturnal escapades in the land of his forefathers. That title may very well be only half the truth, but he had very little knowledge of his father's ancestry. He knew little other than that they were descended from those dark lions that once roamed freely across this land and the next, but now were lost across the expanse of earth that stretched itself over the limits of the horizon. He had an elder sister that had journeyed far and wide, found her roots, but chose to remain in that dreamland. What was it like? What were they like? A family he had never met, and yet, as far as the eye could tell, their blood ran thicker in his veins than the grand pridelander heritage ever had.
Such were the thoughts of a wandering male, brain overcome with glimpses of sleep, and body aching from a hard night's toil over the grassy planes. So, as it was, a pinch of delirium was not uncommon in the mind, and a touch of hallucination was not unheard of in the sight. Thus, along he strode, with all the grace of the large cats – body built of the pridelands, and fur born of the night and the rogue. He was little more than a shadow, a dark mote against the brilliance of a new morning. But what to make a shadow stand out more than a little bit of fire?
At first, he was a little unsure as to exactly what sort of creature it was. With the shadows of the night fleeing back into their chasms, where they would wait to capture the moon again, the nearly grown male was unsure if the dragon that shone so brightly stood alone – or danced across a fragment of the night sky. Silently, he cursed his insomnia and the delirium that was his hangover. However, being graced with that curiosity that plagues the feline race so, he could not but move forward in all his grace and elegance. Muscles rippled and fur danced, making his movements more like that of a flowing river than an actual walking being.
He neared, so close to that delicate golden serpent that he was sure he would be engulfed by flame and fire, burnt down to the core of his very being. It wasn't until a cold wind, dancing from the mountains of the distance and down across his shadowy form like a cold slap, that his mind reverted back to that of a partial sanity. It was, he saw, not more but a lioness. A lioness, perhaps, but one of such grandeur that he could hardly fathom the sight. Her body was that of the night, a rogue form not built to unlike that of her father, but in her he saw instantly something quite more – the pridelands and the rogue held in one grasp. The brilliance of the golden that had eluded his figure since birth, and yet, the darkness that welcomed him out into the night with the retreat of Apollo's chariot.
All these thoughts, clever and crafty, danced across the mind of a sleep-deprived male. In his head, he was brilliance, and then he opened his mouth, and all sagacity dripped from his voice and from his mentality, and he was at once converted to naught but a youth with a sharp tongue and a mischievous heart."Oh, dear goddess, from where have you fallen? Will not the day whither without the brilliance of the sun?" It was a purr, a song, flowing and gentle but so deep that one might think they'd be lost in the depths of the eloquence. A soft flicker of his mane, a rustic red to challenge even the very clay and dirt from which he was bred, was added to his guise and manners. However, the flicker may have been more to wake himself than anything else, for as wide as those emerald gems may have been – his mind suffered from the many hours he had gone without slumber.
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Posted: Wed May 09, 2007 4:23 pm
n0cturne The young adult lion had been under the impression that she was the only feline stirring at such an hour. Most were either nestling down within their respective dens after a night of endless hunting. Some wouldn't even rise from their slumber until the sun had reached its zenith, its heat making them stir to find even a fraction of shade. Perhaps that was why, when a strange, musty scent of male lion entered her golden nostrils, her neck snapped around quickly. Head held high in alertness, her ears swiveled to the front of her head, miniature satellites seeking even the faintest of signals. It took her a few seconds, in the bleary light of dawn, to locate the source of this new smell, this smell that was of one lion, but also carried the scent of multiple felines.
It was a dark male, though not as dark as her own fur. He was younger than she, though not by much, as she had only recently reached the adult stage of her life. She snorted, flicking the fiery tuft of hair on her tail irritatingly. The lioness was quite a grouch when just waking up – even more of one than she normally was. She was in no mood to interact with another. Especially a male, at that.
Not detecting the perfume of hostility, the dark lioness turned her head and began a slow, meandering path in whatever direction her paws decided to take her. She had absolutely no idea where she was headed, she just wanted to get away.
However, it seemed she was the receptor of whatever ill luck the gods had decided to ease onto the currents of the wind. Every time she paused, glancing over her shoulder, it seemed that strange lion was slowly gaining on her. It was much too early for her to even think of speeding up her pace, so she emitted a deep, rumbling growl from the base of her throat. A warning, a threat.
Yet, this belligerent male persisted. She could hear the soft swish of grass as their spines were broken beneath his paws. She stopped her steady walk only when she heard a voice coming from the young male. Eyes rolling heavenwards, she prayed for the tolerance to not simply beat this young fool into the red earth. However, the words he spoke were very…strange. A single eyebrow arched against the delicate crown of her head, her neck turned on itself like that of an owl, her bright eyes, the color of the sun, piercing into the emerald depths of the male's. Her voice, light and musical for one so irate, crept out. "I am not a goddess, and neither are you, obviously," she snorted, glancing over his charcoal body. "And the day does wither without the brightness of the sun. Most commonly call it night." Switching her tail sharply around her back legs, she made a small 'hmph' sound and turned her back on him, beginning her slow pace once more.
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Posted: Wed May 09, 2007 4:27 pm
Felyn If that dark lioness had ever meant to turn away Isithunzi, the dark and persistent prat that he usually made himself out to be, then she might have been better off to have not spoken to him at all. It would have just been in her best interest to pretend him nothing more than the shadow that tagged along at her heels, nipping for attention and vanishing whenever she looked too closely. Sadly, for her, she had responded, and that initiated just the sort of game that he was looking to keep him awake for a few more hours before he had no choice but to collapse in a heap of tired bones.
"Ah, but of course I'm no goddess, my lady," he purred out in tones that dripped with eloquence and mischief, tones that were in them selves far too suave than one would find believable – or buyable, at least. "See, it's always been my understanding that goddesses were typically female. In any case, you'll have a hard time convincing me that you are indeed not a part of those immortal ranks that command beauty and grace like weapons. I suppose you could always simply be an angel, but for what reason would you have fallen? I could think of no reason as to why something so simply pure and elegant as yourself would be cast out."
He was on her heels, his form swaying behind hers at a leisurely pace, matching her stride for stride. He was no smaller than the graceful lioness that he pursued, but neither was he bigger. His descent always made him a shy bigger than many adult females, considering the natural size of a pridelander, and he still had a good deal of growth left to him – he would probably be considerably larger than her once his adulthood was in its full blossom.
"So, if you've not fallen from the heavens as one divine creature or another, from where exactly have you come? It's hard to imagine any land on this mortal earth producing such a rare delight." His eyebrow raised in an expectant manner as his slinky form took speed beneath his paws and moved to walk more or less at her side. Those eyes, holding all of nature's graceful tones, flickered towards her – standing out like emerald gems against a satin backdrop. His hair tossed and turned in the few gusts of wind that graced the plains, but he never once took his eyes away from the lioness that was trying so hard to ignore him.
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Posted: Wed May 09, 2007 4:32 pm
n0cturne The dark lioness, of a name that she would not divulge to any common passerby, flattened her ears against the dome of her head – a most irritated gesture from a feline. She, of course, did not like others pointing out the miniature flaws her sharp tongue sometimes let slip by. A growl, light enough to be mistaken as a purr, persisted in her voice as she snapped, "You know exactly what I meant."
While the black-as-night feline wasn't large by any means, her body had taken on muscular bulk from her routine life of traveling and hunting. She believed she was no where near as soft as those sheltered lionesses who dwelled within the safe comfort of a pride. (Perhaps even some of the males.) Yet it wasn't only her body that had hardened, it was everything within her, her heart, her soul, the very marrow of her bones. Or so she made herself out to be. She could easily tell that the male lion would still suffer the pains of stretching and growing bones, yet in here eyes, all pridal lions were weaker than they should be.
It seemed, at this point, that the lioness had dug her own grave and leapt into it with open paws. Besides that, she often found it difficult to resist a battle of daggered words, especially when her opponent frustrated her so greatly. She often took instant dislike to most lions, but this one was quickly surpassing every being she'd come into contact with.
"It would seem, that if I were a goddess, I would have already smote you to the very darkest depths of the underworld," she scoffed, turning a disdainful orange eye in his direction. "And if I was a fallen angel, my reason for decent would've been for punishing and banishing ones like you from eternal paradise." Her eyelids lowered over her eyes, an expression that brought to surface her high-and-mighty personality. Tossing her tuft of black mane from her eye, she glanced at him. "Where I have come from is entirely none of your business."
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Posted: Fri May 11, 2007 12:22 pm
Felyn Those gentle eyes, such a bright and pure hue of emerald, widened slightly at the tones that slipped so gratingly past the graceful lips of his unwilling and temporary companion. Though, it was not in surprise that this gesture marred his handsome mask, but instead – it was the first sign of his dramatic act. He could, by all means, be a one-man play.
"Oh, but how deeply you have wounded me," he said, tones bordering on the brink of wounded and disbelieving. "To think, such mal-intent could be harbored in such a fine lady, why, you must surely be jesting with me! Else, I may take that offensively and begin to think that perhaps you mean me some ill will. I'm sure you've no mind for that, now?" His eyes filled themselves with a sadness that barely broke the surface, but succeeded in transforming his entire visage to that of a pitiful thing. Overly dramatic, perhaps, but he knew it – and lived for it.
"I think you wouldn't. Perhaps you're just grumpy, hm? I understand that well, my grandfather, rest his soul, was very much the same way upon waking, but was likewise the kindest heart in all of the pridelands." He seemed to show very little emotion on the subject of the dead king (not that she would know him), but perhaps he would rather flaunt a series of fake emotions that show the true ones festering beneath. "Though, if you're as fiery as your bodice would imply, perhaps you are very well just as poisonous as you say you are? The latter is much more interesting and entertaining – I rather like that in my women." He ended the statement with a little quirk of his brow, eyes dancing now not with faux sadness, but brilliant mischief – oh, perhaps this is one lioness our beloved jester should not provoke a rise from.
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Posted: Fri May 11, 2007 12:26 pm
n0cturne The nightly lioness was rather startled by the sudden, horrendous change upon the young male's face. A confused expression spilling over her own, she began inching away from him slowly. Had she, perhaps, had the misfortune to run into a crazed rogue? It certainly seemed that way, as the words filtered from his gaping maw. But they had a double affect upon our reptilian-marked lioness. The cauldron in which her surly temper rested was slowly beginning to fill with the most hot and boiling of waters.
Her lips turned downwards in a hardened frown, her brows lowering over neon eyes. "Wounded you? No more than you have wounded my ears with your airy talk of goddesses and angels! I do not jest, fine one," she spat, layering her words with delicate drops of arsenic. "Perhaps you should take offense, for I do mean ill will, and I will unleash such illness if you are not removed from my presence!"
Tail thrashing about madly, her slender frame puffed up as much as it possible could, the fur along her spine raising towards the sky like a miniature regimen of soldiers. She, grumpy? No more than this insolent male made her, no doubt! A slight smirk, one of the most evil of intents, placed itself over the grimace it had worn before. Her eyes took on a challenging light, a fiery light like the flame of the beast upon the barrel of her body. "Your women? I fear you are dreadfully mistaken. For he that has a mane is more than a youth, and he that has no mane is less than a man. And he that is more than a youth is not for me, and he that is less than a man, I am not for him." She chuckled faintly, raising her proud head as she turned slowly, yet again making the attempt to walk away from him. Yet, she paused, turning her head over her shoulder to perhaps press the knife in a fraction deeper. "Besides, I belong to no one, boy."
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Posted: Fri May 11, 2007 12:29 pm
Felyn For a moment, Isithunzi paused in his trek after the nocturnally plastered lioness, his face, for a moment, held in a frozen state. He showed no surprise, or any amount of being dumbfounded, but there was something certainly a little blank about his entire visage. It took only a span of a few seconds, however, and he was quickly moved back to motion. A simple shake of his half mane, sending tufts of a rusty fire tone flying about his own charcoal hue, and he trotted back up to the side of the lioness – oblivious to whatever actuality there may have been in her threats.
"I doubt I've seriously wounded your little ears with my talk because you probably weren't listening to me very well at all. And if you were indeed listening, don't you think that's a little of your own problem? You could have just as easily ignored me." His brow quirked at his little speech, making the light of his eyes dance with the reflection of the sun that had settled there.
Ah, but he did tread on thin ground, this one. It was not in his nature to back down from someone, especially a someone that had already branded her beauty into his mind. He was reckless, a little too quick to act, and even quicker to speak, but he was a good lion deep down in his silly little soul. His tail flickered behind him as he considered the next portion of his conversation, even if the responses were nothing but strings of insults one upon the other, the flame-toned tip dancing in front of a sun that strung out similar colors across the morning sky.
"So, lioness-that-belongs-to-no-one, do you not have a name that I could utter? I'm sure my brothers and sisters would very much like to hear about the fiery sprite lurking out here." His eyes flickered towards her, paying no heed to the grass that parted beneath his feet, and fixed upon her form as if he actually expected the angry belle to grace him with an answer. But expect he did, and so he remained in silence, with that waiting gaze settled on a lioness that simply just wanted him to leave her be. Oh, what ill luck was hers today?
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Posted: Fri May 11, 2007 12:34 pm
n0cturne Was this male's choice a wise one? To walk beside her was surely similar of that to dancing along the edge of a rumbling volcano, prepared at any moment to spill deathly blood from its mountainous gut. The fur along her spine remained erect, a growl within her throat. Her patience was evaporating along with the dew the sun stole from the earth. She cast a wearied glance at him as he neared once more. "It is hard to ignore a voice, even if you pay no attention to the words, just as it is hard to ignore the dull drone of a blood-sucking fly."
Her head lowered even with her mildly raised hackles. It was a stalking stance; the position a lioness took as it followed the weaving path of an unwary gazelle. She felt, perhaps, that if she became smaller, lower to the ground, perhaps this frustrating lion would simply forget her existence and flutter away to bother someone else. If only there were a way to get away! "My name, boy, is of no consequence or concern," she growled. "And I am no more a sprite than you are a giraffe."
And what of fiery, wandering sprites? What sibling would be interested in tolerating the winding, epic story this lion would surely weave out of their unpleasant encounter? Yet where he came from, who his family was, and why he was even here now was of absolutely no interest to the midnight-pelted lioness. Silence-filling conversation was not an activity she often engaged in, nor enjoyed. In fact, she often preferred a comfortable silence. Two that could coexist in perfect silence were two in perfect harmony.
Then…why did she keep answering his impertinent questions and comments? Perhaps they outraged her. Perhaps it was some hidden loneliness buried deep within the rubble of her destroyed and crumbling heart, a need for contact after so many years of empty silence. But those were thoughts that she cared to not have plague her mind. She dwelled on them enough within the realm of her dreams and nightmares.
Glancing at him in irritation, she let a few rare syllables spill from her tongue. "Usiku'ilanga," she said, though the actual name was so faint it could be taken for the whisper of the wind.
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Posted: Fri May 11, 2007 12:37 pm
Felyn He chuckled softly at her comment, though really didn't mean it offensively. In his sleep-deprived mind, such small a comment as relating him to a giraffe filled his thoughts with amusing images of an Issy-Giraffe hybrid. Not pleasant, mind you, but certainly amusing. Shaking his head, he brought himself back to his present reality – stalking his aunt's lands next a fiery sprite that wanted very little to do with her newly acquired shadow. He glanced back towards her, studying her for a moment, the silliness temporarily evaporated from his thoughts and gestures. "You can call me a giraffe if you want to," he finally said, saying it quite bluntly and rather calmly, but that only seemed to intensify the comical aspect of it.
"Usiku'ilanga," his voice echoed, trying the unfamiliar syllables on his tongue, and making of the name a pretty second-song, flowing with a grace that one probably wouldn't expect of a gruff adolescent male. After a moment came another phrase, "Midnight Sun." He smiled to himself at the meaning, his tail wavering behind him in his silence. Silence, a grace that one probably wouldn't find often among the company of Isithunzi for long at all, especially not when he had his mind set upon any one thing. "That's very pretty, and very fitting," he said as he glanced to her – his conversation, for once, a little more civil and a little less flirty. Maybe he was just tired.
After a few moment's pause, while he was trying to decide if it was really even worth telling her or not (considering she'd probably make some disgusted comment and toss it aside to be forgotten), he finally said "My name is Isithunzi." He glanced then towards the sun, rising higher in the sky, ticking away minutes as the pair walked to nowhere. Ilanga was probably just trying to get away from him, with no destination in mind. Not that that really bothered him much – he had already decided he would push her to the edge in days to come. Just because she was pretty.
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Posted: Fri May 11, 2007 12:42 pm
n0cturne Indeed, the picture of a giraffe mixed with a lion was a very amusing hybrid image to strike one's mind, but when had Ilanga displayed any sort of amusement at any point in her life. Yet it didn't keep the vaguest hints of a smile from her muzzle – more a sadistic smile, but one nonetheless. "I'll admit the name suits you, that of a gangling, ungraceful, and useless creature – with a tongue longer than its own tail." Smirking, she switched her tail against the frail grass blades, knocking them in every direction.
"I know full well what my own name means," she said roughly, ignoring the way her name sounded beautiful coming from him. She'd always disliked her name. It made no sense to her, and Ilanga was a very sensible lioness. It was the only indication of her past as well – a period of time that she could not remember, and was glad she couldn't recall a single glimpse of it. She knew it came to her in her dreams, but the moment she returned to consciousness with a frightened gasp and sweat drenching her fur, they flittered away on translucent demon wings.
For a few moments, Ilanga was graced with the unlikely belief that words had escaped the charcoal male and he would never speak again. Perhaps some evil fairy had stolen his voice, pulled the golden orb from his throat with some ill enchantment. She was not surprised, though mildly disappointed, however, when he spoke again. Isithunzi. Short, to the point, and appropriate – the only good quality about this annoying being. "Shadow," she said, a mildly excited look coming over her. "Does that mean you vanish at midday?" She chuckled sadistically.
The black lioness, dark as the deepest parts of the jungle, altered her direction a bit, trying to stroll even farther from the male. He was right. She had no destination. Only the destination of once again being a solitary creature. She didn't want to be pushed towards her breaking point – it was never a happy experience for either her, or the one who had to bear the brunt of her viciousness.
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Posted: Fri May 11, 2007 12:47 pm
Felyn A soft scoff fled his jowls, dying on the winds of the plain as he glued himself yet again to the course that the female was adjusting herself to. "I am most certainly not a useless creature, I'll have you know," he muttered. However, as he tried to think on all the ways in which he was useful, he found that his own mind was betraying him – a revolt, mutiny, against the creature that was keeping it awake. He sighed finally with a tone in his voice that almost admitted to defeat, "I just can't think of what I'm useful for, at the moment."
His eyebrows only rose as she snapped – he was sure she knew what her name meant, but what, honestly, was the harm in saying it for himself? He sighed, shaking his head, but said nothing to her. If she didn't like her own name, then that certainly was none of his concern or business – perhaps the only thing he really knew to stay out of, wisely enough.
"I only vanish at midday if I've been a little too long out at night, not that one would expect to see many shadows out in the dead of night as it were." His words were now taking on a slightly purring tone, like one would expect of someone who was getting a little too tired for their own good. "It's just your luck that I have been out a bit too long this past night, for I may very well vanish at midday and leave you to your grouching." He wasn't trying to be mean, it was just a fact: he was tired; she was grumpy. Simple. In any case, he was prepared if she tried to bite his head off again.
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Posted: Fri May 11, 2007 12:49 pm
n0cturne "Undoubtedly you are useful. If one wished ill will on another, one would simply have to send you," a fiendish grin took over her muzzle, though her next utterances were simply grumbled in a very unhappy manner to herself. "And it seems the gods have so wished that ill intent upon me."
The young lioness yawned. The warmth of the rising sun was curling along her spine, creating a sleepy comfort within her that simply wanted to return to the slumber she had so recently left. Perhaps this tiredness was the reason Ilanga seemed to surrender, in a way, to Issy. However, it was more the decision to tolerate his annoyance until he became bored and wandered off – almost like a teenage babysitter would, except she would sadly receive no payment for her wasted time.
Her paws altered her path yet again, almost making it a full circle in the direction of her previous boulder. "Then I shall eagerly await for the hour when the sun climbs to the peaks of the heavens. I look forward to seeing you shrink into nothingness and recede into the earth like the little parasite you are," she laughed, tossing her head back. It was all very well to call Ilanga grouchy. She knew just how much of a temper she had, and how constant it was within her. She took no offense to the comment. She would rather be considered grumpy that a fair, dainty lioness with not a thought in her head.
As she yet again neared the boulder, she sped up slightly. Her sleek, shiny frame slid like black water onto its rough surface. To the peak of it she climbed, ears forward, head high, and eyes wide. Gazing at the horizon, she sought even the vaguest flicker of movement. She'd need some sort of amusement after she somehow got rid of the young male lion.
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Posted: Fri May 11, 2007 12:53 pm
Felyn "Ah, but I'm sure the gods could wish nothing so half as beautiful as you ill will," he said with a gentle hint of amusement lingering beneath the cloak of his words – perhaps sleep was not quite yet the victor. "It just happened to be your luck that I thought I spied a dragon on my way back home, and what feline could call themselves such without being curious as something like that? Never did I think that there was quite the pretty lioness, albeit fiery and slightly grouchy, attached to it?"
It was not likely that Issy would go away as quickly as a child losing interest, and especially not of his own accord, but the toll that was ever increasing upon his mind and body would no doubt drive him home to the comfort of his family very soon. Not that he could look forward to a very good sleep there – there were always dozens of cubs teeming around the area, albeit the scary and rather ferocious attitude and appearance that his father portrayed.
As she began her circle, he simply turned his stride to parallel her own, a smirk plastered to his face as he lazed slightly behind her – just barely next to her form. "I'm sorry to disappoint you fair lady, but I don't think my disappearance shall be all so grand as that. I'm sure I'll simply just begin to get extremely tired and have to make my way home to keep myself from falling into a deep slumber out in the depths of the wild where any half-crazed creature might do me harm." He glanced towards her as she neared the boulder, speeding up slightly himself. "After all, your threats may very well turn out to have some depth behind them, and I'd rather not wake up crippled – or worse, not at all."
As she found her way up the boulder, he could not help but let a simple smile grace the features of his maw. Splayed against the gentle azure background of the sky, streaked with a gold that mirrored her own, she looked every bit of the goddess that she denied to be. He shook his head, smiling in his dazed amusement.
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