coming home [war return; ranking thread] | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Azuhel
her/she
The Red Dragon
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October 06, 2017, 09:42:14 PM
(This post was last modified: October 24, 2017, 11:43:53 PM by Kookamunga.
Edit Reason: Deadline Change
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Deadline: October 24th
Participation: those who participated in the war but are rankles, also if you want to welcome them home you are more than welcomed to do that too Who: Everyone, all ranks, all ages When: Takes place after the war, so many misfits that came with them to Alteron can join too If you were in the war and you had a thread, could you please post it with your posts? It’ll help me with the rewards! She’d explained why they’d leave, why they had left, and why they were coming home. She explained that they had done well, her volunteers, and she’d hoped they’d had fun in her own little way. She told them they’d won with all the pride of a mother witnessing her child’s first achievements and that had been true. They came. They devoured. They left. Marking that isle with flesh and blood and making a name for themselves in the realm of the powers-that-were. She’d been serious when she’d started her games. Eager to prove her worth to the collective and in return they had performed admirably. So, once they’d trekked home with the scent of smoke in their pelts and their bones torn from the unfortunate (among other little rewards they’d gained) she allowed bid them to come to her. She was not that selfish, to leave them without purpose in the new world order. One tightly bound to her, of course. “Oy,” She wuffed, to call them. She’d allowed them some much needed rest and to put away their hoards, but now, at the court of the log, stretched out as she fiddled with the pirate-won rosary around her neck, she thought it only proper to bless them. “Come’ere ‘n look at these scoundrels.” she wheezed, right before she gave a snort that peeled off into good-natured laughter. She was in a great mood, a bit of havoc would cause that every time. “All of my brave friends do line up, please, and tell me what you’ve done ‘n iffin you remember, who you’d dunit to.” So, she can put them to work appropriately. |
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Sarissa
She/Her
BLOODY PRINCESS
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The war had been a learning experience. Father had brought the twins and any other kids interested to the battlefield, instructing them to stay close, but the twins were much too mischievous to stay seated and just watch. Babes were not meant for battle, they could easily be killed, but the girls could not help but explore, examining the dead, and painting blood on their fur, staining the white of their coats red.
Paint the rose’s red, the Queen would say! And one of the roses had been painted as such, one who escaped the wrath of the Dragon when she threw the lantern and set ablaze the land in a display of dominance. The moment of one of the Rosas burning had sparked something in Sarissa that was deadly. She wanted more and she wanted to sink teeth into flesh like the adults, but alas she was only a child, only able to explore and hope to see action. And action she had seen! Orcrist led his daughter forward on home, and Azuhel had been waiting for them. She called to her people, at least some as she perched along the log. The girl had been distracted, but once she mentioned scoundrels her eyes peered around, paws up along the log to see higher as she wanted to say hello to her grandmother. Tail waved behind her excitedly, a giggle escaping her as Azuhel laughed. Laughter was after all contagious. “Where, where?!” she excitedly demanded, still searching until her attention span cut short and her grandmother spoke once more. Sarissa gasped, finally able to tell her story! Even her father hadn’t heard this one, and definitely not mother or else she would get in trouble. But this was such an exciting story! “Grandma, me an’ sissy went on adventures! I mean daddy said not to stray too far, but we couldn’t help it.” The girl gave a sheepish smile, hoping her confession would not warrant punishment. After all, she had done a good job, hadn’t she? She wasn’t hurt either, she was only a child and one who saw the bloody battles of a war between three packs. So much blood had stained the Earth, and even blood still stained her coat in a murky brown. “I saw lots of dead people. And I even saw the…uh… God! The one you tried to burn, I think. One of them. She talked with me and Maera, she was interesting.” Sarissa smiled wide, searching for a reaction. “I didn’t do anything though, too small, but if I was bigger, I would’ve! I would’ve burned them for you! She was kind of pretty though.” Those blacks and whites and reds spread across her coat, and she was dressed by those she slaughtered. “I had fun!” She had enjoyed the war. The girl glanced back at her father finally, noticing the face of a man who was not amused by the fact his daughter could have been killed because of her naïve antics, but he kept quiet as Sarissa continued. “Grandma! Daddy said he saw her too! Said he was in a few fights, that’s why he got scratches an’ stuff. He didn’t know I saw her too, but I guess now he does.” She grinned sheepishly again. Oh well, what was done is done. ✦ ✦ Speech Text ✦ ✦
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Oni
she
im alpha of 3 pakz
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Just a reminder that if you participated in the war and haven't been ranked that the deadline is the 19th.
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seir
they/them
oh poor heart, how you ache for freedom
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They are red, now.
Red like the burning fires, red like the sunset. All great similes, but it was just red - blood red, red blood, sifting through fur to dye them crimson like a wave and they’ve sunk their head into the swamp to drown out the screams but screams can’t wash out when they’re in your head. They think that’s what screams sound like because what have they ever heard? They’ve felt it though, working its way out of the throats they squeezed closed, vibrating against their teeth. Azuhel reminds them of that - screams against their teeth, shaking their jaw. They had met the Dragon, as she called herself, a handful of times; enough to make an impression, for Seir to recognize her. She is the one who led them to war, and they aren’t sure what they think of that yet. They have their share of wounds, but most if not all the blood belongs to others, and they stand readily despite the aching muscles. They watch her lips move, her grin, the rosary around her neck so odd in its place. She was a little difficult to understand, accent lilting and warping the vowels, but they thought they got the idea. The dragon wanted stories. What about the children who they had killed? Did she want their faces? Their names? It was a war, they didn’t have time for names, just blood and teeth and moving on to the next in line. Did she want to know the ones who killed their own allies? The black bitch who got to walk away with a ruined face for mistaking them as prey? Did she want to know the chaos her fire caused, the people it burned, the land ruined? Or the lost ones, the ones run away in the face of war and the ones dragged in against their will? The ones they ruined? No, they won’t tell her that. They don’t want to. “Bastion,” they rumble, a black wheeze of smoke through sharp teeth. Devil ears pointed skyward, red eyes sharp, they look upon Azuhel evenly as they speak of the golden boy. “Son of Cuff. He was efficient.” They linger on the c with a hiss, lapping at their lips at the pop of the t. “Protected his allies.” Another pause. “Lynx. Leopard. Kept order in the troops.” Tried to, they amended in their mind, but she had stepped forward when many simply let the chaos reign. The cat was already ranked, they knew, thought not what rank specifically. Regardless, they thought her worthy of praise, her and the son of Cuff, and they offered it here for the dragon to ponder. [ooc: some threads are still on going, plus a couple of discord rps still going on.
we won't; war drums; say something do it soon] |
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Azuhel
her/she
The Red Dragon
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The first to approach was her granddaughter, a child born of Atlas and Orc, nearly grown. She’d give a roll of her shoulders, a shrug of playful attitude, before she cast her gaze out toward some other figures, ones that began to hobble closer.
“Why, I reckon’ they are right ‘ere.” She drawled, right before she lifted a paw and pointed toward Sarissa, “ ‘n right ‘ere too.” Then she pointed to herself, “I, of course, am a Lady.” The worst sort, to be honest, but it doesn’t stop her from barking out a laugh at her own assessment. A Lady. A Dragon. A Lord. It didn’t matter what she was called in the end, so long as she remained the one in power. So, she settled in to listen to Sarissa speak, curious as to the accomplishments of a youth, but not all that worried. She’d made sure to allow their parental figures to make the decision on whether they made their children march. So long as they remained alive, all was well, and that seemed to be the case. So, the child and her sister, the one with the strange expressions—Azuhel would never forget some of the looks she’d received when she’d found her on the border—had wandered away from their designated space? She’d give a slight ‘tsk’ at that but otherwise didn’t interrupt. They seemed well enough— But her jolly expression faltered at the idea, the very thought that a creature within her possession had been near one of them, the great three. Nostrils flared and she gave a tilted head, patient as she waited for the child to finish her thoughts, as she watched Orc grow leery in the background at his daughters misplacement. Perhaps, she didn’t realize just how dangerous those folk had been. Perhaps, they were to young to understand the real reasons they had marched against them. Maybe, she’d have some time to explain. “Interestin’,” she started, one paw over the other as she tried to collect her thoughts, as she pushed past the haunting screech of barreling bodies and the phantom scent of burning flesh. Alteron had not been privy to the nature of the valley, but she had. Changing that perception seemed… important now. “The wolves we consumed. Their lives that we snuffed. All for very good reason,” she murmured, “we don’t tend to march without purpose. We conquer. We control. This time, Sarissa, we marched for a friend against a common enemy, which is why I asked our wolves if they would like to join. Those wolves, the horrid filthy creatures think themselves better than you, than all of us.” She gave Sarissa a solemn look, “I’m surprised you’re alive. They, those lesser gods, were known to tear into flesh and scatter bone. They are different than us. They lack a certain… substance. A rightness.” She chuckled wistfully, the irony of her lecture not lost upon her, “Pretty though she may be, she could have taken you, tore off your little cute legs and kept your eyes. Monsters, the lot of them. Most of them deserve to be burned… such a shame you weren’t big enough to do it.” “Maybe, one day, I’ll tell the whole lot of you the story of their… wickedness.” She snapped her teeth a bit, tested the word on her tongue, before she shook her head, “But for now maybe we can put that wayward energy of yours to purpose. Since, you are alive, spared by a pretty muddy wretch, eh? You’ll report to Shatter now, as one of her officers and keep us all safe, won’t you?” Shatter could sort out what sect the girl was best for, but Azuhel already had an idea of it. Then Anzu arrived, barely functional—why hadn’t this girl been attended to on the way home? She spoke of the monsters while Azuhel frowned. She hoped that this… vision, would be enough to get it into Sarissa that she’d been incredibly lucky. “You,” her voice is soft, almost motherly, if not for the… oddness of her accented tone, “to the Alchemist. Get patched up and then stay there and learn how to patch up others.” And yourself, Azuhel wearily thought, so you don’t spill blood all over her empire. Then the last one arrived, as red and unwashed as the others, but crimson coating had never bothered her so long as it didn’t drip drip drip. They spoke of others but not themselves. “I see.” Bastion, the boy, Cuff’s bastard. Well, he had already been given purpose after the raids… or maybe that was the other one, Zach? And Lynx… Well… “And you?” What had this wolf done? |
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