iBAM! you lose [open]

[nevreme]

its been far to long my love. i have been waiting for this moment for some time. it saddens me that you have not. why do you flinch when i speak? does the sound of my voice pain you so? it hurts me heart that you should feel that way. i never meant to hurt you my love, surely you know that. all i ever wanted was for you to be happy. please lee-lee........

a low snarl ripped from between bared fangs as his voice faded away. how dare he. how dare he call her that. she had ordered him to never call her that again. even dead he wouldnt listen. it didnt frighten her anymore, his voice. she had long since gotten used to hearing him. the thing about him she hated most was that only she could hear him. he was her own personal horror. and she hated him with a passion. wasnt being murdered a big enough hint for him? she didnt want him. not then, not now, not ever. but he never stopped. he never gave up. even in death he was a pain. it was bad enough he called her 'love' all the time. but then he had to start using switchblade's pet name for her. that was over the line. but there was no way to make him stop. no matter what she said to him he continued to 'stalk' her. a ghost from her past. invisible to all but her. it might have been kinda cool except for the fact that he was her least favorite person ever. shaking her massive skull violently she let lose another, louder snarl. kissers peeled back in a grimace that revealed a set of sharp alabaster fangs. would he never leave? was she doomed to listen to his aggravating voice and annoying words forever? if so, then she might very well rather die.

oh dont say that lee-lee. please. all i ever wanted was for you to be happy. if you arent happy then ill leave. but first you must tell me you love me. if i know you love me then i can rest in peace. but if you destroy yourself to deny yourself of the presence you know you love then you will only be throwing yourself into my arms at long last. i would hate for you to end your life on my account though.

oh god. he was right. if she managed to end her life not only would she have failed switchblade but she would be throwing herself right back into a much worse position. because though she would be reunited with switchblade she would also be once again plagued by him with no relief. and as bad as hearing his voice was, being forced to endure his company in the flesh was far worse. living with a ghost only she could hear was much, much more appealing. pulling her shaggy bodice into the frigid air she gave a hard shake to help rid her coat of the twigs and frosting of snow that it had collected from a night of sleeping out in the open on the cold hard ground. not that it was much different from her usual abode, its just that what she was used to was a cave or some other form of shelter when it was this cold. stretching her stiff appendages she let her maw widen in a massive yawn. it was only after this was finished that her lids slowly opened then blinked twice to clear the sleep from her liquid gold lanterns. letting her sore pads carry her once again across the frozen turf she lifted her skull and inhaled deeply. the scents that flowed into her nares were not the ones she had been hoping for. the warm scent of a prey animal eluded her as did the often stronger and muskier scent of a predater which she also considered prey. all that perfumed her nares at the moment was the strangely sweet smell of the tree sap and the clear crisp smell of snow. then suddenly satellites laced back against her sleek skull and a low snarl tore from her throat. another smell was there. one she hadnt smelled in a while. one she had actually been avoiding. the perfume of her own kind. another lycan was inn the area. and they had been here quite recently it seemed. the trail was fresh, no more then a few days old if that. there was no way she could possibly avoid it.


puppet; harlequin
wordage; 756
notes; hmmm not bad at all......this was better then i had hoped for. the white italics is the voice of a 'ghost' still not sure if i want it to be just her imagination or an acutal ghost but only she can hear it. her lyrics will be in green by the way. have fun repying <3

[[MEGan!]]

Your judgement is blind

The early morning was harsh and black with clouds of a grim shadow, the sunlight blocked by thick ominous trees and blank grounds. A sharp wind pierced at the world around in every area, howling through the forests mercilessly. Brittle, unbroken snow lay fallen crisply over the land, deep and trecherous, save for one place - the shores of the Kayan River. Here, a mess of snow was scuffed and churned, streams of blood freezing into the icy edge of the brutal river. The mutilated remains of an unknowing elk lay bent and broken at the shores, innocently arriving at the most dangerous time for a drink to quench a dry thirst brought on by cold from the frigid waters. Lurking in the deepest of shadows, a menacing darkness haunted the lifesource, looking for a meal to satisfy a gnawing hunger that had been fed only the day before.

My, how greedy he was.

Now, the staggering figure that represented cessatation itself feasted upon the last remains of the delicious mammal, gorging himself selfishly. Blood splattered a thick, triple layered coat of bulking fur, the sulfurous yellows and smooth caramels, the most lucid black and captivating white dimmed by the Cimmerian morning. Jaws gnashed at intestines savagely, gnawing on them hungrily as he tore into the last of the animal, precious vital organs saved for last. His enormous skull jerked back as he ripped from the carcass a mass of flesh in a spectacular spray of red, further marring the pure crystalline beauty of the snow. Lapping at the final pools of blood, he let them swirl into a vortex of his prey's life, sinking into the deep snow, which brushed the upper half of his ribcage. Four and a half feet, at least, of the icy cold buried his land.

He meandered off idly, pushing through great drifts without hesitation or trouble, tongue rolling over heavenly tasting blood matted jowls. His ears were alert and sensitive to the world around him, claws tearing at the frozen foliage beneath the packs of snow as he tore through. With a great burst, he lunged through the final drifts and into the lighter depths of the forest, who's canopies stopped a good foot and a half of the snow that fell, leaving a rough 3 feet. He halted instantly, deathly silent, still as if he had become cold, hard stone. His ears pricked further more, rotated briefly, and then the King relaxed. He drifted to a massive pine and hunkered down, body curled with his back to the tree, eyes open and searching even though his body was relaxed and content. Before the invasion of the revolting thestrals, such measures would not have been taken. No way in the deepest of hells would any dare to disturb such a ghastly creature in his own abode.

A sudden stiffness shuddered through the ancient hellion's massive body, and his upper lip curled harshly, flashing great, yellowed teeth in the slowly lightening forest. A growl, unheard to any, vibrated deep within his chest, and his face wrinkled with hatred. Caidas, that despicable fool who ventured so cockily amongst the sculpture of his land. The taker of his beloved cousin, Severa. The bloody horse would drown in his own blood, squealing for mercy at the claws and fangs of the magnicafent Sawblade. Nothing would stop him, not even if his throat was town from his body. Saw would have vengeance for the one being he ever came to love. As his thoughts progressed, so did the growl, now ripening to a young snarl, a steady rumble cracking into the atmosphere in a lavish desplay of rage. He would tear those nasty wings from his pathetic body, and feast upon his stone heart, spilling blood that ran cold. He would gnaw upon his bones and break his fangs, rip his flesh and strip him of all dignity.

Slowly, though, as these demented thoughts continued to churn through his mind, the chagrin faded to misery and agony. Severa and his sole friend, his first commandant of the Cruor Army - slaughtered. His rancor displayed on his twisted visage slowly dispersed, leaving an unfathomable look. His eyes slowly shut, just for a moment, memories flashing briefly through his tired mind. A then he jerked his skull up, teeth gnashing. He would not sit here and sulk like a weak child. He snorted loudly, and an unsually robust cloud of steam burst from his nostrils into the freezing air. He rose, lingered for a moment, then shook his massive bulk and sent a spray of snow. He stretched, letting his back end rise and his forelegs reach forward, then made his way onward.

The King was not weak. He felt the loss of his friends, but couldn't quite grasp the complete and utter terror of being alone. Solitude suited him. No one to bother him, no one to harass him, no one to haunt him. He had hardened into something that could not really feel. The thoughts that agonized him were minor, just thoughts. They hurt, yes. But they didn't burn. They weren't there to fuel his frenzied rage. His anger leaked from something far more simple; boredom. After years of being cramped into one area, breaking free and claiming Echoue Amarre had awoken a part of him, a lust, if you will. A lust for the kill. Of course, he always loved the brutal slaughtering of others, but now, simple torment pleased him. To see one at his mercy, utterly terrified of his presence, was just delightful. It had been quiet in Echoue Amarre far too long, and the death of his followers sparked a fury he could unleash.


As he went on, the wind began to creep with a fume he was unfamiliar with, one he quite loathed - an uninvited visitor. A murderous smile crept over the lycan's face, more of a snarl than anything, eyes bloodthirsty and harsh. Then it quickly slipped away, his ears flicking slightly back as he battled the wind easily to follow the scent. Through vines dead with winter and trees who's bark was frozen he trapezed, his head level, his eyes searching. For a short while, he continued. Then suddenly, he saw her. He paused momentarily, and a livid flash of his teeth was all that was seen before the silent hunter flashed to her side in the blink of an eye, the sudden burst of speed unseen by the naked sight. Hovering just a few sparse inches away, he leaned in, his massive jaws parting to reveal a mouthful of hungry teeth that gleamed in the brightening world.

"Do you," he hissed, loud and provacative, his voice dead and cold, though a torrent of rippling emotions lurked just beneath, "make a habit of just welcoming yourself upon a King's doorstep without warning quite often?" A bitter laugh suddenly broke, and he pulled away from the female's side and turned to face her, his rancid breath surely washing over her face as he was so close. "How daring." A short pause, and then sudden seriousness. "Who are you?"

Blood was still soaked into his fur, matting his chest and face, and his tongue rolled over it, though it had frozen. There was glacial scrutinty in his bronze flecked olive eyes as he studied the damsel, his hackles faintly risen, a growl locked in his throat. His face, abysmal. The wind rushed suddenly, and her pugent aroma burned into his nostrils. A miffed snort sounded, as if trying to rid himself of her aroma. His long fur whipped roughly, the thick, almost mane that ridged his neck and half down his back blowing back and snapping in the air like Medusa's snakes. The blast dimmed slightly, then more, and lowered to a bone chilling breeze. He waited reduntantly, quiet though rather uninterested and more than a little put off by her sudden presence. All it would take is a few rash words spoken unthinkingly by this blasted nymph ignorant of his past, and the trigger would be pulled and a furious storm would hail upon her.

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but still sees me.

[nevreme]

(ooc: wow. mine sucked compared to that. anyways its on its way...tonight probably)