Many wolves looking for relaxation come to Blossom Field. A gentle breeze vibrating the blossoming flowers is quite a sight to see and it is quite a favourite for wolves to come with their mates.
A recent fire has ruined the scenery, half the field covered with soot and marked with scars of the flames. The other half is untouched, however.
IP: 71.219.255.40
Posted on March 10, 2012 at 08:46:22 PM by Machika
" ...Time Waits For No One... " “If Cinderella's glass slipper fit so perfectly, don’t you wonder why it fell off along the way? I can't help but think that it was on purpose, to attract the prince's affections. No matter what I do, I'll still have the fate of a girl who just keeps getting hurt, wondering if she can be happy in this pointless, one man show?” It’s no secret that the girl misses her grandfather- though his age was young enough to be her own father. Fangs flash from behind a curtain of skin which folds back to reveal the sharpened ivories, as her prey (the older male) takes her and sets her in front of him after he has stumbled back, the breath knocked clean out of him… her ivories are just starting to grow yellow from being stained many times from meals, though the ess has only had the luxury of flesh and blood meals in the past. Meals that have been long since devoured. The ribcage beneath the girl’s skin tight soiled pelt can be clearly seen, as the shadows that fall past the jutting bones, and these dark watercolors paint a barely seen indent that, if observed close enough, becomes quite visible to the naked eye. Hunger penetrates the thin border that separates sanity from insanity, and soon, water blurs the once distinct line that marked the cross-over. What is the point- to have the courage to live or to just give up and die? Pain claws at the princess’ abdomen, and the organs inside moan in agony. ’ FOOD! ‘ they scream, like greedy crows circling above a meal- while the Eagle below chows down on his kill. Vulgar things… they live off of the misfortune of those who lose their meal so easily to the strength in numbers stunt. Scavengers… Why wouldn’t this pallid demoness become one of their kind, you may ask. It is not a matter of whether she wants to or not- it’s the persistent amount of pride that swells far beyond its normal size in her chest area. Adrenaline pumps through the girl’s veins, encasing the red blood cells with a type of drug that a massive amount of humans thrive off of. It is the same with them, though, that Machika is playing around with the deal of death’s hand. The grim reaper does not lay down its scythe to bask in the daring acts of those who dare defy fate’s power. Instead, it takes a chance itself and swings the scythe, hoping to perhaps hit something- flesh. The white blood cells may act as if they are unaffected at first, but sooner or later, oxygen revives their hopeless selves and they are filled to the brim with the thrill of danger. What has caused this chemical to send itself out into the open? Simple. Anger. Anger at the thought of the fae’s parents being murdered, anger at life for taking away her grandfather too early, anger for no one ever being there to teach her what her purpose in life was. Machika doesn’t know, though, that life often hides the answer to the latter. Nevertheless, her anger is what set her off. May I remind you that you cannot spell danger without the word ‘anger’ first. At this point in time- with Machika frozen in an act of desperation, poised below the masculine frame (where he has set her) that was, moments before, all alone- she found him to be an easy target, and now we are here, caught up to what is happening. Shall we? She has been thrown- off course at first, for he surprised her with his action of moving her so that she was sin front of him- his optics run over her bodice like a doll in a glass shop. Rushing forward once more, Machika luches for his open nape- he has left it there- wide open, and she could have gotten to it earlier had she not been surprised at his response to her vulgar attitude. In the female varg’s mind, this moment is passing as quickly as the time of day where the sun reaches the edge of the ocean’s horizon and emits a green light for the souls who dare to venture back to the world of the living, though they themselves have already passed into the world of the deceased. ‘ You are not wrong. You’re fighting to keep yourself alive. ‘ At least… that’s what Machika is thinking, but her heart tells her otherwise. ‘ You cannot live with who you are destined to become….can you? ’ Entertaining, isn’t it? To be able to listen in on the argument that Machika is having with herself? A look of conflict within herself crosses her visage for a mere second and then a conclusion is reached, and talons resume to be outstretched towards the older wolf, whose pelt Machika can now distinguish as multi-colored. She revels in its difference from her own bland one. Shades of ashen oil pastels flirt around with the chocolates and… Oceans narrow even further in frustration. How could that possibly catch her eye when she was bowing down to the ever powerful reign of starvation? Saliva drips slowly from the sides of her maw, flinging into the atmosphere as she pounces forward- however she is far off, and ends up sliding just beside him, teeth scraping his shoulder. A wavering mind keeps Machika from being able to calculate her movements as well as she would in a healthy state and soon she finds her vision failing her. Black creeps in around the sides and the colors are starting to blur together. Her every move becomes choppy, uneven and misjudged… Steps get further and further out of place, her breathing is raspy and loud and her heart can be heard from ten feet away (or so it would seem). Pounding like tao drums echoing throughout a hundred hallway passage way. And that’s when everything begins to crumble to the terra. As she takes off towards the vampire yet again with the illustrious derma… Empty lonely oceans meet with the same breed of optics. A similarity has been found right then in that passing moment. The knowledge of what life can do to those who are not strong enough to accept the change… Fear of being alone forever slides into the gal’s pools and then everything goes dark for her. From our perspectice as a non-related unit far away (like a God looking down upon his creations as they tear eachother to bits and pieces- oh the irony), her feminine bones fall to the earth and the skull hits the ground. The femme’s breathing is gradually becoming slower and slower, but her anxiety worsens with every passing moment that she is conscious and in a world of blackness. Audettes are pricked full forward, trying to make up for the loss of vision tha the teen is experiencing. Her seas are still wide open, looking around frantically for the way out of the supermassive black hole… but there is no escape. “Where have you gone?!” she muses, screeching to the world like a lunatic. Her voice cracks at the ending syllable and becomes a hushed, strangled and well…creepy whisper. Machika has finally given in to the seductive purr of the beast who has taunted her from behind the cage for far too long. She has embraced all too quickly the fact that she has lost everything. And in turn, this knowledge has fried the damsel’s mental system, taking up its whole capacity with a load of fear, anger, and anxiety. “What has happened to him?! Zol- where has he gone?! Why can’t I see him? Tell me… help me… bring him back… please…” The poor doe thinks that she is just talking to herself now. Her consciousness has eluded her now and a weird sort of sleep takes over- not quite a coma, but not resting… rather, in between. It is now up to the knight with layers upon layers of multi-colored cloak to decide her fate. So tiny… so delicate and fragile just like the rare flower that only blooms once a year… at night for four hours and then dies just before dawn, now that she is unconscious, she is merely dead weight. Something that can be broken. One has to wonder if she is really who she makes herself out to be- a killer. Now we must move on. It’s the strangers decision on what to do with her. Machika has threatened and endangered his life… any varg in their right mind wouldn’t take that shit from a teen… most would probably punish her for her incompetence. So what shall it be? Execution? Or mercy? Princess || Teen || Packless || Loveless word count: 1407  |
no, no! i loved it! I had to make a few changes to my post so forgive me if it's a little confusing :) && honestly, do whatever the hell you want to with her- Meth can move her if he wishes (though- he's going to let his compassion go away when he figures out how much she weighs)- she'll wake up at the end of my next post. <3
Replies:
- I Drank An Angels Blood. - By Methusulah April 1, 2012 at 05:25:15 AM
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