Private Roleplay Gin & Catatonic [Tuesday] | ||||||||||||||||
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Lyra
She/Her
Death Valley
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February 02, 2018, 04:59:35 PM
(This post was last modified: February 02, 2018, 05:28:50 PM by Lyra.)
~ ☆.. speech ★ thoughts ..☆ ~
PRP for @Tuesday The valley had been in a state of unrest since the clash of titans, a war that left the pack divided and scattered. This young wolf had been swept up in the turmoil, her monstrous father had fled and her twisted mother had followed him like an obedient lap dog. She had waited in the dark for so long now the shadows knew her by name, and they whispered sweet nothings in her ears as she slept. She laid nestled under scattered hides, plush furs of wolves her mother had devoured. The walls once soaked in blood, now just stained a crimson hue, the copper scent brought comfort to the sleeping child. When the moon had reached its highest point in the sky, bright white light cascaded down into her den, shadows departed and she opened her eyes. She had no claim on the house her family had grown, but the young girl had taken a liking to one of her mother's slaves. And although Lyra lacked rank, the slave would be stupid to refuse her offer, and she was determined to make a bond tonight. She rose slowly, finding her bearings in her sleep haze state. She looked up at the moon, greeting the night as though it were day. Lyra swept from the shadows, agile and quick, she flew in the dark, a cacophony of fluttering wings as she took flight. The crescent moon winking the barest glimmer of light upon her dark mottled fur, truthfully bare, unable to hide forever in the dark. Her bright yellow feet would always give her away to more than just skulking in the night, but to her lineage as well. Tuesday would do well to prepare, she was meeting a demon tonight. The young female quickly reached her destination, and began the perilous climb to the peaks of the slave quarters, passing guarding officers with a nod. When she finally reached the top of the striped cliffs, she peered into the darkness, a lot of the slaves had died, and Tuesday was seemingly the only one left. Much like seeing an unwanted puppy in the pound, Lyra's heart swelled at the sight of her. She muttered something under her breath to the guards and stepped into the cave. "Gods' bless," she whispered. Lyra reached the mute girl and smiled, motives hidden behind her fanatic eyes. She had a plan for the girl; one that would never have come to full fruition had Tuesday remained her mother's slave. "Come with me," she whispered. "I'm here to take you to your master." Perhaps the slave was unaware that Ink had left, never to return. She would coerce the other female into believing she was delivering her to death, and then offer her salvation. No one would say no to that. |
Tuesday
She/her
5ever a slave
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Boredom seemed to be commonplace in the daily life of young Tuesday, the settling calm after the war as the beast returned to its slumber. It was either by pure luck that she was almost forgotten amid the chaos, or because she was no better than the dirt beneath her paws, and out of the two options it was likely to be the latter. Slaves were much lower on the food chain, and as such it was to be expected. Sometimes, but not too frequently, she would reflect upon her decision to leave her family, it had been made in haste and Tuesday would probably have been saved a headache or two if she remained with them. But, there was nothing she could do about it now, that life was far behind her.
The ever-constant feeling of being bored, however, was always nagging in the back of her mind. There was nothing to do, barely anyone to talk to -or would want to talk to her- so she had a lot of free time. Free being a relative term. With a sigh of frustration Tuesday rolled over to her other side on the cold ground, lavender eyes glancing over to the ever-watchful guard, his humor was dry, his voice deep and scratchy. A lame wolf to be around for sure, and Tuesday truly felt sorry for his poor mother for having to put up with him. The sudden appearance of the other wolf was unexpected, being as late as it was, so Tuesday rotated her head, squinting in the dark cave as she took the dark one in. It was strange, she had to admit, and as the black wolf came ever closer there was no denying that she had come for anyone else. Not that there were many fine slave specimens to choose from, so obviously she was the only one available. Rolling back onto her belly, she placed her head onto her paws awaiting the moment when the other would speak. "Come with me, I'm here to take you to your master." Honeyed words brought forth confusion; another feeling that Tuesday was rather intimate with. Had the dark, yet slightly creepy wolf made it through the war? The brindle girl thought it a tad odd, if Ink had survived, then why hadn't she come back to claim her once more? Not that Ink had said much in her presence anyway. It was peculiar, but the lack of argument from the guard spoke volumes. Considering herself as one who could read into situations at least somewhat correctly, this was not a command to be ignored. The usual rules of the daycare were not being able to leave unless your guardian picked you up, but those rules had not, nor ever will be applied here. Skeptical as she was, Tuesday still rose up to the words of another, ready to follow at a moment's notice. And who knows? Maybe she wouldn't be bored anymore. |
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Lyra
She/Her
Death Valley
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~ ☆.. speech ★ thoughts ..☆ ~
The two wolves would turn and find themselves in good company—the stars, twinkling overhead under the brightest shine of the moon. Lyra took small steps as they descended from the cliff though she was a dainty thing anyway, gaunt like her father, though now she wasn't quite sure. Her family was torn apart, and she made a decision to stay and pick up where they left off. At least, she hoped she could convince this slave to stay by her side. Truthfully, she understood Ink's attraction to the slave, and even shared in it, hence attempting to make a claim for the girl. When they reached the bottom of the cliff, Lyra breathed a sigh of relief, and spun around to meet the espresso female's eyes. "It's a beautiful night, is it not?" she asked, her voice rather genuine, though no smile found anywhere on her face. "The stars hold secrets to our destinies," she offered, trying to get the female interested enough to speak. Lyra did find it considerably rude that she hadn't spoken yet, but perhaps she was being insubordinate as slaves typically were. Perhaps this female didn't feel comfortable speaking with a younger girl, such as her. "Let's go for a little walk in the moonlight," she said. The young raven spun around, sand kicking up at her heels, she felt aloft in the skies like a soaring bird. She jumped from the spin and marched toward the open plains. Her black coat was met with bright moonlight with made each speckling of grey on her coat shimmered silver in its wake. She was the perfect little angel, a feathery fiend full of mischief and mishap. The terrain was awash in a opalescent glow, a cloak of milk white light cascading down upon the sparkling sands. She offered the slave a weak smile it was crooked and unsure. Lyra felt especially embarrassed not knowing the female's name. She felt a swelling of anxiety swelling in her throat and she swallowed hard, trying to keep a composed demeanor. But she couldn't hold it in anymore; she needed to break the silence, and the discomfort. She felt a rush of emotion burst from her throat and she felt a swell in her chest, and her heart beat fast. "Tell me, what is your name?" she laughed awkwardly, "I'm embarrassed to admit that I don't have a clue what your name is," she wanted to be honest with her, seeing how she hoped the slave would be her bond today. "Please tell me," she insisted. The younger girl wanted to make an impression and she smiled at Tuesday, turning to her and taking a moment to stop. Though really, where did they have to go, except nowhere at all? |