The forest stands tall and lush here; ancient trees reach weather-twisted arms to the sky, fighting monster-like storm clouds back with their interlacing fingers. Shadow seems to lurk everywhere you look, but it spills calmly, coolly, inspiring a sense of stealthy calm or protection rather than unease. That is, if you've forgotten what kind of creature might be stalking just out of sight...Abendrot is a land cradled by the dark woods on all sides; in the center, some of the larger trees stay behind to reveal a small plateau - a citadel where this pack can gather and defend itself from invaders. There are, of course, softer sides to the land. Clearings here and there allow the sun to throw down its rays in incongruously resplendent gold showers. Ignore the lingering scents of blood spattered here and there along the borders: those do not concern you. The river on one edge of the territory is playful enough when it hasn't been gorged by violent rain. You can choose to note the ragged claw marks raked down tree trunks and the forest floor as friendly "Home Sweet Home" signs, if you wish.
All who treasure loyalty, order, victory, and the occasional indulgence of raw visceral pleasure are welcome, once they've been approved by the ever-watchful eyes of Abendrot's Alpha. But keep one thing in mind: no matter what your motive, this is not a fool's Paradise. This is the land of soldiers, assassins, and spies. This is ABENDROT.
Make up your mind quickly and prepare to prove your worth. You wouldn't want to add to those blood spatters, would you...?
IP: 70.56.227.253
Posted on August 10, 2013 at 05:10:57 PM by k o b a t o
Whatever the ice king said... whatever his foul mouth uttered-- Kobato could not hear it. Whether she chose to not heart it or whatnot was completely unknown to all, even herself. But she was deaf to his hateful words. She could feel his muscles move and tense when she touched him, and she also could feel the slight grasp on her flesh by his ivories. But as she spoke, it would seem that his actions fell short. His anger fell into silence and he backed away from her, as if she had burned him with an unseen fire. Her narrowed eyes did not take on the look of surprise. Kobato knew that these kinds of creatures were often shy about their hearts being touched. They would move away at any cost. Serris had. Fakir had. Even Oake had. Kershov's actions did not make her doubt herself... but it was his next, screaming lyrics that caused her audettes to flicker in recognition. If one should touch a dragon's keep, run their fingers through the gold-- often times, they killed themselves and added to a collection of skeletons. Pure Kobato was not to be added, it would seem, today. You INSOLENT BITCH! Kobato almost found it funny that this one would use the same terms as Serris had... I WILL TOLERATE YOUR FILTHY MEDDLING EXISTENCE NO LONGER. With the crying atmosphere, he looked as if he had become something rare and raw. Despite his churning muscles and his hateful words, it was obvious that he was still flesh and blood. The way he took in his breaths... the way the heat poured off him in the cold rain... Kobato knew that he, just as she, would bleed. This time, he came towards her at full speed, an attack that would surely get her. Kobato did not have the strength to duck this time, so she closed her portals and waited for his daggars to encompass her in pain. But this pain that she had been expecting never came. Not once did she feel his fangs upon her skin. Not once did she have to bite her lip and wince, experience the surge of despair running through her bodice. Not a single time did she feel any physical impact. It was Vladya who did. Kobato stared, wide eyed, as he moved in to take the hit. She turned her head, portals quivering in disbelief, her maw opening up to scream at him for moving her away from the barbarian in front of them both. She could see the crimson fluid paving a way down the vampire's pillar. She could smell the disgusting metallic stench that came from the infliction. She swore she could HEAR the skin break and cry out in agony. But what killed her the most was his words. No, Kershov. His voice sounded exactly as she felt. He winced. Kobato's breath caught in her throat and her heart felt like jelly. Not her. Kobato stared, stupified by his sacrifice. Then, not moments later, he was on the ground, covered in mud, his pearl cloak soiled by both blood and muck. Kobato could only stare as Kershov pinned that creature down. She could only stare as he pressed her savior's palette down into the earth's surface. A chuckle rose from the monster's lips and erupted into her auditory units. Looks like your knight wants to die first, princess. How am I to choose? But he need not peer at her. Kobato, with a renewed sort of strength, was already up in his face. She had moved without hesitation when that voice first started to lift itself up out of the lightning-charged silence. She, as little and weak as she was, slammed one of her forelegs over Vladya's bodice, in a claiming motion, and let her hackles rise, a wild look in her toffee portals. She said nothing as she lowered herself and covered as much of Vladya's silhouette as she could with her own flesh. A snarl rose in her larynx and she glared up at the ass who had had the guts to put his dirty claws on HER soldier's palette. You don't have to choose. She snarled, her talons digging into the soil beside her precious possession. As Kobato had never felt worthy enough to own anything but herself, there was some sort of special feeling that she could sense, rising up within her now. As heir of Munashii Gekko, I am relieving you of your prisoner. You failed to keep a close watch on him and I stumbled upon him. She inhaled before her next words, her muscles tightening and her tassel flicking angrily, slashing through the muggy atmosphere. Finders. Fucking. Keepers. Then little Kobato did something she had never done before. She lashed out. As a viper would, Kobato, without warning, snaked her way to Kershov's foot and then, without warning, she raised her head so forcefully that she was sure to get her way. A false move towards his leg with her incisors, swiftly changed into a headbutt that would catch him on his chin or nose if nothing else. Her other foreleg slammed in the mud beside her knight's facial features. If she had gained a hit on the King, her skull would be bruised where the two bones collided, and the skin would most likely break to reveal an angry red injury that would send twin scarlet rivers down both sides of face, giving her the impression of an angel weeping tears of blood. The rain, it would seem, would aide to this. Though they may be vain attempts to gain back what she was on the verge of losing, Kobato was putting as much effort as she possibly could towards it. For her, there were no unneccessary movements that would sap her strength or leech off her energy. Every breath was savored and stored for later. But here she was, willing to take hits for this gladiator whom she had healed herself. She had brought him back up out of the darkness, and be it this man, Kershov, or Wolfbane himself, Kobato would not return him. He was not an accessory to be returned. And she would take tooth and claw for him, as he had brought her back, and done the same for her.  |
Replies:
- BE THE ONE I'LL ALWAYS KNOW . . . - By VLADYA September 6, 2013 at 01:54:41 PM