Malignant Felicity is a paradisaical abode to the faithful remains of a mighty pack. Once ruled by the magnificent wolf Genocide, now the wolves of this pack follow the laws of the Alpha Lance, son of Sorna, Beta and Genocide's best friend...
The sounds of crashing water fill your auds as you enter this tropical paradise. The tall trunks tower above you. The treetop canopy's seem to shade the beautiful land from the sun's rays. What a paradise this place seems. This place dubbed Malignant Felicity. As you draw closer to the boarders a stench slowly devours the air around you. The stench of death.
"Beware..." scream the birds from above you. "She kills for games. She kills for fun." Something deep inside tells you to listen. Your body tells you not to go no further. Do you listen or do you dare move into the pack borders. This could be a life or death decision...
Follow the Queen, or become a corpse that lines her border. The choice lies with you.
IP: 72.161.49.125
Posted on January 13, 2012 at 09:37:01 PM by Xieal Rojo
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------------------------------------------------------- X I E A L ~ R O J O ------------------------------------------------------- Immunity, such an uncomprehensible notion. Trying to gain such was like attempting to devour air, it simply was not possible. Xieal watched the Fae crumble, her own eyes dancing thoughts to her mind, through broken viens, and nerves that no longer fuctioned with the proper speed, left behind by those too proud to be of use. "Damned to Die, ironic, that an Angel die in a hell hole." Sanity grew stronger in the words, like seeds finaly finding a root, lodging themselves ever-so-tighly and chasing out the weeds of madess, if only for a moment, if only for those few words, were quite enough for the pleasent turn of events. " Angels, don't die." And, Xieal implied her words precisly, or rather putting full faith in them. "And when the Raven's come to take your soul, to devour your mind and eyes, and tear your flesh from your festering corpse, I'll be waiting for you in Hell, damned Angel." And so she left it, casting back her last, remorsfull card. "Tell the Devil he left his heart in the wrong body for me." And she waded into the sickly sweet soup, that served as air, letting the silkly substance into her lungs. The trees whirlwinds, waiting to take an Angel's corpse to Hell, a red ocean playing across her paws, and a glowing mass of blue-birds, creating what some call the moon. And all was as it always was, at least in her whirring mind, torbulence still reigned in the forest of mountains which she left behind so quickly, or so many thought. -------------------------------------------------------- Insanity bores down on us like the rain, And the mind is the devil’s toy -------------------------------------------------------- |
Replies:
- Waking, with strength. - By Fall To Me (Angel) January 14, 2012 at 00:39:01 AM