Challenging for rank, land, etc.  season of change || PRP [Mature]
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Andruil She/Her
Autumn
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*****
Posts: 14
Pronouns: She/Her
Location [IC]: Elysium
Rank [IC]: Phthinoporon
Played By: Gothy














#1
(This post was last modified: November 25, 2017, 10:31:05 PM by Gothy.)






[Image: andruiltitle_by_lunecy-dbsnola.png]
The orange moon floated above the black clouds, forming webs through the trees as the Queen strode through the wood path to get to the old oak tree. It was hollow and devoid of leaves, but tonight, it would be the place where Theros would gain his heir. Phthinoporon had promised him this, and an opportunity had arose just in time. Theros would've been a fool anyway; a seed was already growing for her own heirs and that of Cheimon.

She glided toward the Oak, the heart a bed soft and ready — a place a Queen would lay with her King. Andruil expected Zephyrus to be there already, eager and willing, but he would be disappointed this night. Teal eyes looked upon the elder, her body sleek and shining under her harvest moon. A playful smile crawled along her features, lids half-drawn to set a mood of confidence. Without a word, she would walk past and onto the fur-lined bed pillowed by tri-colored leaves. Phthinoporon sat herself on them, getting comfortable before glancing at Theros.

"Theros, my dear Summer King. Tonight I grant you an heir that will take your crown and live on in legacy. They will step up in your time, will guide their people through the hottest days like you have, and those before you." Andruil crossed her front paws, letting her rump slide to the side in order to situate herself. The Queen held her cards to her chest still, but she was eager to call for the heir. Not quite yet, Phthinoporon, have a little fun first.

✦ ✦ Speech Text ✦ ✦
[Image: autumn_leaf_by_ecroset_of_autumns-d48vsz5.png]

There's no prefixes yet, so i'll edit it later once we do. It is mature for suggestive sexual content and gore.







I might be a tad naïve
But I learn quick
I will shatter your belief
That I’m so innocent
So savor your surprise
I could sip you like a vintage wine

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Maera him
Almost Sparkles
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Posts: 11
Pronouns: him














#2

Their sanctuary has been acquired; he, and many others, had successfully procured their new home, and oh, what a home it is. The caverns are tall and magnificent- a reflection of him, of course- and they are painted with vegetation he could never have imagined. The entrance is deceiving, the top world a Wasteland, maintaining no life above and yet an civilization preserved below.

Zephyrus did not ask questions, only scouted so far ahead before declaring it was good enough. It was safe, secure, and he did not care who he had to tear down to keep it that way. His children would flourish there, as would all of Elysium. They would all remain to protect the grand Eden, their bloodlines continuing to foster the vision of their pack.

A vision he’d lost sight of, but did not know.

A vision, like Andruil as she approached, and the cloud that followed.

Theros,’ she speaks his name, but not the way Calista did, not the way his wife’s words stoked the fire within him. Andruil stirred something else entirely, something sinister and cold. ‘my dear Summer king. Tonight I grant you an heir that will take your crown and live on in legacy.’ As he suspected, something was off with her words, she chose them carefully, and he felt his graying nape bristle.

They will step up in your time, will guide their people through the hottest days like you have, and those before you.’ Yes, he detects, something is wrong, he had felt it since a week before. Andruil is cunning, but he is beyond the games she hopes to play. The strings she hoped to pull were severed with the shake of his head, he is far too old for this shit.

“I’m not here for your mouth, Phthinoporon,” he wouldn’t even entertain the thought, “Do you think I want you anymore than you want me? You’re not Calista, you are no replacement for my wife. You were chosen for your intelligence, but more importantly,” as he had expressed time and time again, “You were chosen because you are his,” his tail raises as he steps forward, lips curled back in a growl.

“We both know Gods can bleed, but if you keep up your speeches, I’ll take out your tongue,” he steps once more, slowly closing the gap between them, “Now tell me, bitch, without your pretty words, do you think a God can lead?”
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Andruil She/Her
Autumn
Reach
*****
Posts: 14
Pronouns: She/Her
Location [IC]: Elysium
Rank [IC]: Phthinoporon
Played By: Gothy














#3






[Image: andruiltitle_by_lunecy-dbsnola.png]
Zephyrus was picking her words as he always did — plucking like a ripe peach in the summer’s sun in which she bit into with juicy thirst. It would slip down her throat and bury the pit in her stomach, his influence pressing down until she submitted, but the Queen was much too quick for him, much to cunning and Andruil smiled wider. Her smirk was the indication that she was smarter than him — wiser and her youth was an advantage.

Andruil stood then, quick and silent as she jumped and skipped toward Zephyrus with playful tones. “I am a God, Theros, and I lead my people. You are a God and lead yours. The difference, dear Theros, is that even if you fucked me, your seed is much too rotten.” Teeth flashed against the orange moon’s light, the ivory glistening as she smiled. What a fool! What an old fool! She sat before him then, a paw against his chest, playful and the Queen of Autumn full of confidence giggled a little, proud of her little game.

Truth is, Theros, my womb has already been harvested. Instead, your heir will be your usurper.” the woman turned, yipping into the night to indicate her little blue Jezebel to arrive. She turned her back on the God of Summer, the God of Fire and Sun. The Queen of Harvest lay back down on the furs of her bed, a paw swiping along the soft textures humming.

Teal eyes glared at the old God, licking her lips as she did and rested her chin on her wrist. “As Phthinoporon, the Queen of Autumn and God of Harvest, I bless this challenge. Jezebel, kill him and rise as Theros. Rise as our equal in the circle of Gods. His blood will feed a new era for Elysium.

For you.

✦ ✦ Speech Text ✦ ✦
[Image: autumn_leaf_by_ecroset_of_autumns-d48vsz5.png]







I might be a tad naïve
But I learn quick
I will shatter your belief
That I’m so innocent
So savor your surprise
I could sip you like a vintage wine

[Image: profilebutton_by_lunecy-dbuuq45.png] [Image: galleryand_by_lunecy-dbuuq4f.png] [Image: pinterestbutton_by_lunecy-dbuuq41.png]

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Maera him
Almost Sparkles
Packmate
**
Posts: 11
Pronouns: him














#4

I am a God, Theros, and I lead my people. [i]You are a God and lead yours. The difference, dear Theros, is that even if you fucked me, your seed is much too rotten.[/i]’

The words sting him, but never in such a way as the loss of Calista, or their children. The jabs are needle sharp, pricking beneath his skin, but they do not hurt. They serve to irritate him, to feel the vibrant flow of Summer truly coursing through his veins. His heart races, his jaws part, he snarls.

Truth is, Theros, my womb has already been harvested. Instead, your heir will be your usurper.’ His lineage is lost. He has nothing left. Not even Sol’shira arrived for him to take as a consolation prize on the matter, and he feels the world beneath him fall apart.

“You waited until I found us a home,” Zephyrus bristles and steps closer to Andruil once more, “You think I end here? You think I won’t be back?” Once more, another step, the red of his eyes a wildfire against the coal black of his face. “You know our lives don’t end with these bodies, Andruil,” or did she not believe in the very things he did, that made them Gods? Had she been rotten all along?

He can only hear his heartbeat now, he does not hear the Goddess of Harvest calling on the winds of change, and he does not see at first, for his line of sight is a tunnel focused entirely on the Phthinoporon.

But he feels it.

From the left, he feels an impact which sends him hurdling into the tree to his right. Zephyrus feels the immediate damage to his shoulder, whipping his head around while regaining his composure, but it is too late.

Her eyes are like his. All she can see is red, too.
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Jezebel she
Almost Sparkles
Packmate
**
Posts: 16
Pronouns: she
Location [IC]: Elysium
Rank [IC]: Theros / Alpha
Played By: Blondie














#5


[Image: Tr4LPQm.png]

As Phthinoporon, the Queen of Autumn and God of Harvest, I bless this challenge. Jezebel, kill him and rise as Theros. Rise as our equal in the circle of Gods. His blood will feed a new era for Elysium.’ It was the cue- a cue- and one the lingering storm cloud took eagerly. The tension in the air could’ve been cut with a knife, but Jezebel suspected lightning would do just fine, that her teeth were an apt replacement for the instrument of man.

There are no words spoken, she feels it isn’t necessary to introduce herself when Andruil did such a superb job. The girl did not care enough about their quarrel to listen in and decide if she wanted to overthrow the current Theros, or band together with him and take out the little wolf who brought her in.

Although, if she were only a little older, a little wiser, she could’ve used the opportunity to eliminate both of them, to secure her position over two seasons, and inevitably, all of them. Her dreams were big, ever growing- much like herself- but her appetite was bigger.

Her body hits Zephyrus’, she feels the recoil from such a hard slam, but bounces back with her youthful vigor before the older wolf could recover his balance. She makes no noise, he is making enough for the both of them, and before he can utter another snarl she strikes again. A blind wolf could see defeat for the old Theros was imminent, but they would also know better than to see the wolf concede. Summer is, and always will be, relentless. One of the bolder qualities of the God had always been Stubbornness, but Jezebel did not know that. Not yet.

Jezebel is not bogged down by the weight of muscle (at least, not yet) and her legs are far less gangly and awkward nearing a year than they were when she was tagging along with Keanu learning about the necessities of tracking. Her teeth find themselves snagged on Zephyrus’ exposed cheek, tearing away at the face like a child ripping open a Birthday present.

But to Rule is not without sacrifice, and the little girl who had been born with false privilege knew this greater than any of her siblings (although now, had she known of Enys’ fate, she imagined the rest of the fledglings would discover their title a bold-faced lie in the face of themselves and their people). She had known the struggle to rise back up, remembering the feeling of her punishment from a Golden Queen; the scars had healed over across her face, but the lack of her brilliant red tattoos left the girl wanting.

Securing the rank of Theros would not be easy. No. It shouldn’t be, and Zephyrus’ warrior experience proved that. She feels his jaws around the side of her neck, and for a moment, she is weightless in the air.

But only for a moment, before the world came crashing up and knocked the wind from her lungs in a sudden, painful throw to the earth. Zephyrus was strong, a formidable opponent even past his prime, but Jezebel was stronger.

She had been thrown some feet away, stunned in realization that he- the Summer Wind- was now barreling towards her.





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Maera him
Almost Sparkles
Packmate
**
Posts: 11
Pronouns: him














#6

What did he have to lose, but life itself, and what was life after everything had been taken from him? His love, his children, his legacy? Zephyrus knew better now than to believe he would be carried on in his own seed, but he would be damned to allow some sneaky little bitch to snatch his crown. He was prepared to take her company into the black hole of eternity before he’d ever let that happen.

What he didn’t count on, however, was that her drive surpassed his own. The gold laden wolf never imagined anyone else to hold the same flame in his heart as she had, the need to take and devour. Jezebel was more than some impending storm, she was there already, and her teeth are as vicious as lightning crackling through the air. They strike him as such, even as he slams into her- he doesn’t even question her resilience.

She was vibrant and young, like he once was, and he missed the days where a hit didn’t take him an entire day to recover. Zephyrus couldn’t draw the same power from within like he could before, like the touch of the Gods was fading from him, but he would not stop. His assault, like her own, was relentless, persistent, dragging.

In the distance of the dying light, he sees a figure so familiar and so forgotten he can’t be sure. The silhouette moves closer, and he can’t seem to focus on the gargoyle who he had begun to best, who took note of his momentary lapse of clarity and seized the moment.

And his throat.

He finds the earth, just as he had sent her to it, and there is such a tiny stone that greets him. Something insignificant, something as unremarkable as a rock among fallen leaves sends pain surging through his body. He can no longer see clearly, yet he sees her before his vision fades and the world itself disappears.

(seconds, minutes, hours? Pass, he senses he is only resting)

“Cal.. Calista..” he wheezes out in between gasps as his confusion deepens. Something feels loose in his guts, like a black pit being torn from his stomach, so he tries to stand, tries to approach the familiar rosette beauty he had once married, but he is knocked down, dragged away. He reaches out, his movements weak as he sees a trail of red smearing across the ground.

“Calista!” he cries out, once more reaching with his paws to try and pull himself away from the phantom who had begun to dig away at his belly. Strange as it was, he felt empty now, incomplete, and with a weary lifting of his head, glances down to see what was causing his discomfort.

But what he sees frightens him.

A demon feasting on his insides, covered in his blood and organs, and with a sudden sense of panic he looks away, to where he once saw the familiar rose and silver highlights of his wife. To his relief, she is there, waiting, and to his surprise, there are three little ones beside her.

They look excited, but she looks impatient. She never was one to waste time. He lets out a soft laugh and lays his head down, forgetting what it was the Summer Winds had carried him there for, forgetting what excruciating pain he’d been in just moments before. All he could remember, before his red eyes glossed over, was that he’d finally felt at peace.

(And in the distance, a figure grows from the lasting rays of the warm Sun, it buries its face into the shadow of a wife and their lost children, and lets out a booming laugh at something the smallest says)

(“I’ve been waiting for you,” his wife says, nipping at his ear, “You know I get angry when you make me wait.”

He smiles at her, leaving the carnage behind and kissing her cheek. “I should’ve come sooner, I wanted to, but I couldn’t. Summer has to have a keeper at all times. You know that.”)
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Jezebel she
Almost Sparkles
Packmate
**
Posts: 16
Pronouns: she
Location [IC]: Elysium
Rank [IC]: Theros / Alpha
Played By: Blondie














#7


[Image: Tr4LPQm.png]

There are things in life worth fighting for. Life itself, for one. The love of your life, for food and shelter. Sometimes you risk your life for silly things, like gemstones fashioned on to strips of leather to make pretty collars, feathers to adorn the top of your head, for fabric to stretch across your body to protect it from the elements.

Some fight for honor, for pride, for a name, for the title and a crown, but then there are some who have no reason to fight, but do so anyway. It’s not their war, their battle, or their pride on the line, but they risk it anyway.

They are simultaneously the dumbest, and most dangerous, fighters of all. What purpose, other than to selfishly feel the fire flowing through their veins, seizing their movements and taking over? What, other than the taste of blood or the searing pain of a cut or the throbbing of a bruise after the fact? Death is the farthest thing from their mind, as so many who lay their lives down embrace the God as a familiar to take them home.

Some face it with a grin, ready to fight it too.

Jezebel sees the face of her Death, it is silver and gold with blood red eyes barreling towards her, ready to seize what she’d fought so hard to maintain. She felt it as she was thrust through the air and landed roughly to the ground, but she would not allow it to take her today. As the monster charged, she found strength from the brink and raised her body to face her challenger head on.

He let out an ungodly howl as she collided, throwing him back and down into the very dirt she sprang from. Her vigor was no match for Zephyrus, but then again, it never was. He was all muscle and brutality, but there comes a time when you accept your fate, when you embrace Death and no longer wish to fight with the darkness that followed.

There would come a time when Jezebel, too, would allow that God to touch her, but again, that day was not today.

She feels victory seized within her grasp, watching the old wolf writhe and groan while his life essence oozed from a gash across his skull. Blood touched his lips, but he did not beg for mercy, for forgiveness, or even for her to end it quickly. ‘Cal… Calista.’ It was a name, and one she didn’t know, but how could she? She’d never even known his.

Jezebel feels an overflow of fire burning through her, overflowing as she circled her prey with her tongue lolling out, drool seeping and wetting the ground. ‘Calista!’ he growls again, stopping the new God in her tracks.

She feels the winds of Autumn stirring behind her, rustling the bristled fur along her back, causing a chill down her spine. She feels the Air of Change soothe and calm the fire that burned so fervently around her. Once the newborn Theros finds herself at the belly of the Old God, she bows her head and whispers her respect to his sacrifice, before digging into his soft skin.

Jezebel does not consume his organs, not as Zephyrus believed in the last fleeting moments of his life, but instead begins to pull them from his body and thrust them away, as if digging for something inside. It is only after his last breath rattles that the young girl looks up from her work, glancing over her shoulder as she sees figures in the distance.

One, she swears, has fire in place of their eyes before each silhouette disappears, one-by-one.

"It’s done,” she breathes out, turning to face Andruil- and whoever else came to witness her coronation- before returning her efforts into emptying out the Summer God’s old vessel. His organs string from the Mother Tree like tinsel decorations, like a warning, like streamers at a celebration, and Jezebel looks to them with a wistful sigh.





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Andruil She/Her
Autumn
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*****
Posts: 14
Pronouns: She/Her
Location [IC]: Elysium
Rank [IC]: Phthinoporon
Played By: Gothy














#8






[Image: andruiltitle_by_lunecy-dbsnola.png]
The winds carried on a fire that she could feel upon her skin, the battle of two denizens ensued without much of a hitch. Teal eyes watched as they slammed into each other, each pound of muscle and bone making the Phthinoporon flinch as if feeling a spark crawl along her face. Her eyes were wide with anticipation, with excitement as her heart thumped against the wall of her chest. Andruil had never seen someone be slaughtered, let alone gutted — her mind wandering to when her tail was ripped from her body. A scene that was blurry and her brow furrowed at the idea.

The queen sat up then as Theros called for his wife — a woman who was taken from him through what was to be a miracle of life. Death only ensued during that winter when she couldn't harness enough strength as her children ripped from her womb, laying lifeless as Zephyrus lay lifeless now.

Teeth of the new Theros ripped through the old shell, spilling the hot entrails of Zephyrus, seizing the moment to harness Summer's power. The Earth drank from his life, sending his soul off into the beyond where he could reunite with his precious wife — a burden Andruil no longer had to endure. She sighed softly, relaxing once again upon the pelts and let Jezebel have her moment. She closed her eyes, embracing the Autumn winds as they whispered a new age for Elysium. When Phthinoporon opened her eyes once more, red met teal.

It's done.

The queen tilted her head and called for Eiar and Cheimon. They would witness Theros take a new vessel and rise with them, rise into a new era where they would establish a new home and within it establish a new reign. Andruil would then leap from her pelts and stand before the old vessel, dipping a paw as if swiping a brush for more paint. She would take her paw and wipe the blood in streaks across Jezebel's face if she so allowed it, marking the victor. "Theros — Rise into the Light of Summer. Your Reign has set, but it is not gone forever. Seek out your Fates, discover our new home. There we will establish Elysium and set forth a new reign of Kairos."

Andruil turns then and sits upon her pelts. She would wait for Eiar and Cheimon. "Jezebel, I establish thee as Theros — Queen of Summer and Goddess of Fire and Brimstone. You will lead Elysium when your season comes to pass, but you will always be our advisor until then. You have control of the Fates and Argos." The queen finally relaxes, settling down once more. She bows her head toward Jezebel.

"Long Live the Theros."

✦ ✦ Speech Text ✦ ✦
[Image: autumn_leaf_by_ecroset_of_autumns-d48vsz5.png]







I might be a tad naïve
But I learn quick
I will shatter your belief
That I’m so innocent
So savor your surprise
I could sip you like a vintage wine

[Image: profilebutton_by_lunecy-dbuuq45.png] [Image: galleryand_by_lunecy-dbuuq4f.png] [Image: pinterestbutton_by_lunecy-dbuuq41.png]

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Damascus ♛ he/him
winter is coming....
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*****
Posts: 4
Pronouns: he/him
Location [IC]: Elysium
Rank [IC]: Cheimon
Played By: Kiri















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#9






[Image: title247711038_by_ghoul_d-dbv4wls.png]
D A M A S C U S
✦ Speech Text ✦

So prompt, was he. Arriving just moments after their dearly departed had been plucked of his life. He came alive like a puppet on Andruil's strings, ball jointed parts moving for her, but also to bear witness to Theros' color fading. 

Zephyrus lay crumpled, pathetic, at the feet of a new era. Like an offering to this new God, this Godling, because she was oh, so young. And Damascus laughed. Giggles burst from his throat like a gossiping school girl, high-pitched and youthful.  

"Theros, oh Theros, my Theros," the deity chanted in a cackling, offbeat tune. "Theros, Theros, Theros!" Louder now, with meaning. The childish God sucked his teeth-- laughing, maniacal. Silly, silly, silly boy! You cannot have what is mine. 

He turned salivating face to the freckled child, the replacement. Oh, how golden her crown and how pretty her smile! And she better smile-- it's not every day you become a God.

"Theros," he acknowledged, a dip of his shaggy head. "Long live."





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Sol'Shira she/her
Spring
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*****
Posts: 7
Pronouns: she/her
Location [IC]: Elysium
Rank [IC]: Eiar
Played By: Akante















All Accounts Posts: 1,081
#10


















She had decided to watch from a short distance.

The Goddess of Life. Of new starts. Fresh opportunity. The Eiar found it almost inappropriate to be too close to such bloodshed, however necessary it was for her to be present at the beginning of this new godling's life. Her lithe form found itself against the side of a leaning tree, hugging its presence to combat the unavoidable loneliness that clutched her each and every night. The darkness did not suit her. Catlike eyes narrowed as the old, decrepit ex-god succumbed, bloodied and ragged, to the fresh-forged wildfire Theros.

A part of her heart even tugged at his weakened summons for his old mate.
But gods did not weep. His death was necessary.

Fighting the chills of the night, of hearing Zephyrus's death rattles, of seeing such gore in front of her, Sol'Shira inhaled sharply. Gathering herself, her wit, her strength. A soft smile crept onto her maw - even in the presence of such death, the goddess knew the truth of the situation: Theros has been reborn. New life was her jurisdiction, hers to bless. Slender fur and feathers seemed to whistle as she swiftly left her post aside the tree, entering under the moonlight, her gaze locked onto the red-eyed Theros. Such a strong, intimidating figure, she only hoped they would get along well.

Phthinoporon and Cheimon exclaimed for the longevity of the new deity, of the new Theros. Sol'Shira could only dip her head and bounce back up with light and warmth upon her face. "All hail our new Theros! Longevity and many prosperous reigns!" Words danced joyfully off her tongue, her crest raised in full excitement for the occasion. 

Did she feel the flow of immortality in her veins? The blaze that filled the Theros from top to bottom, the relentless passion and fierce ambition? The Eiar always feared for the day when a prospective godling would tremble from the immense power that filled their mortal bodies. But... watching as this grey spotted female plunged into the bloodied guts of her predecessor, consuming the remnants of his life, there could be no doubt. 

The Eiar was not one to judge another deity's needs.
No matter whether it was disgusting or not. Gag.



text speech: #B83055




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[ #b83055 ][ played by: akante ]
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