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Return to Lunar Children

------I bleach the sky and melt like grass.
IP: 174.106.23.181
Posted on September 3, 2013 at 01:52:36 AM by Mastodon

Name: Mastodon
Age: almost 2
Appearance:
[CURRENTLY]He is the smallest of the twins, dainty twiggy legs and a shallow neck. He is an awkward teen with large eyes that do not fit his head. His paws are blunt and round like stones. Though he is small right now, his last growth spurt will be quite intense as he reaches full adulthood.

[SIZING UP TO BE] 42’, 200 pounds. Hes a big boy! Nothing out of the realm of proportionate, for someone of the size he encompasses average span of legs, a sturdy spine and a large head. His coat base is blonde, with small organic patterned whisps of black feathered through his hair, defining around his shoulders and back. He towers over his twin and has peculiar bright pink eyes.

Family: Son of League(formally known as Fathom) and twin of Chryosynthe (so I guess that entails a few wolves on this site, please don’t imprint me with a relative of Devil May Cry and Natalya lol)
Ability to imprint?: yes

Name: Chryosynthe
Age: almost 2
Appearance:
[CURRENTLY] his pre-pubescent form is nothing out of the ordinary. He tends to look bulkier beside Mastodon, but as his adolescence begins to leave him so does the brown fat that is heavily encasing his large neck and heavy core. His hair is thick and slow to shed, becoming scruffy looking often. He is bound to lose a lot of this bulk and become an average to slender adult.

[SIZING UP TO BE]37’, 139 pounds. Average, to slightly slender. In contrast to his twin, he has less muscle mass and longer limbs. He is more agile, though nothing as grandiose with size. His eyes lack any coloration, leaving a dark black pupil engulfed in a sea of white.

Family: Son of League (formally known as Fathom) and twin Mastodon (please no relatives as imprints lol!)
Ability to imprint?: yes

rules read: yup
OOC: Waiki
Word min: 200
Chatango: waiki 09
How did you find us: been here before, brought back by some wad name Sol and enticed to bother Darq one more time :D

Samply postage: [Recycled from SAVAGE- Romanukia]

Smoke escapes the cracks of a door frame when the heat inside could not be contained. Smoke was like memories, creeping and seeping from the cracks. It comes in, and the only indication of its presence would be the feeling of choking. No oxygen.


Memories stopped his breath, Romanukia rose from a mound of clean linens. No more dreams, or nightmares. His gaze sought for bodies of warmth through the walls-and yes- there they were, all of them asleep in their beds. Even the babies.


He could not sleep. The doors in his head held back a lot of smoke. There were too many faces he saw while asleep, only some he recognized. He could not get them out of his head, they were not ghosts. Ghosts are more curious than the living-why those with an insight taught only by Nytsu barely get a wink of sleep, getting bombarded by voices and faces of hundreds of lost souls!


But no. These were living. Maybe. Not yet. The stranger faces even had smells, they were warm and smelled sweet like gentle flesh. Too many wandering eyes in his mind that he did not recognize. There was no stopping an immortal on a mission, his movement from waking to walking was seamless. He even when straight for the door, but a hot sensation prickled his spine. Someone was standing in the hallway with him. The air felt electrified. The bioluminescent hue of his iris squeezed and they lit up the night. The other body was Eelea. Eelea had already understood that the glow of his father’s eyes were an instinctual indication of his thought process. At night it was like a warning. Eelea began to get used to this not sleeping ordeal, not just from his daughters-but chasing around Roman as well. He gave his father a hard time, being greedy with forgiveness and friendship. He wanted Roman to work for it if he ever wanted to feel close. Now, he was afraid he had pushed him to the edge-and that leaving was his own fault. Wait, don’t go.


Don’t? A powerful word. Like a mason lays a wall of bricks –each one so perfectly fastened by mortar- but no matter, you could always see the one lighter brick that doesn’t match the rest. Don’t was an awkward brick in the wall, his own son-his offspring- demanded an order, the first ever. He told his father Don’t go.


The feeling of heat touching his ribs, he felt acceptance. He was needed, not expected for once. For once he felt less like a dragon and more like something human. He wanted to ask why, but Roman never asked why so he just waited for Eelea to explain himself.


Where are you going? You can’t go, I still don’t know what to do. It was a hard sentence to hear. His son admitted his vulnerability, which in some cases took a bigger man. In most cases Roman would tell someone as old as Eelea to act their age and toughen up, but he was born in a human’s world and has been lost to his own body and mind for 25 years. He had a lot of catching up to do. He was not just a shifter, but an immortal- and that alone was all that comforted Roman. You are more than man. You don’t need me- He nodded towards the door where Aria and his babies were sleeping, --You found yours, now I must find mine. Before Eelea could stop him, Roman left. There was no coming between Roman and his choices, Eelea had to let him leave. It had awoken Aria, and she would see an obvious disappointment on Eelea’s face. Though his ideals were skewed, he believed he had caused Roman to leave. The only thing Roman had taken were the sunglasses that Eelea had given him at the circus, he did not stop until he had found the ocean.


~~


Though Roman preferred his Orca form, traveling through the waters was a lot faster in dragon form. He could easily work longer strides, and cut through the layers of the deep pelagic in just enough swift momentum propelling him. His form was longer and the density of water was no longer an issue with such size. Being a dragon in water –that to him- was unchartered was fascinating. The gargle of propellars and churning wakes of cruise liners were new to him. The wake tossed from behind a 1200ft ship full of tourists was the only flow strong enough to produce resistance for something the size of a dragon. Ultimately, it was fun for Roman. He could slice and wriggle through the jet-like current, and serpentine out of the water, enjoying himself like he would in cetacean form.


But, he had forgotten that this was nothing real to human eyes. They were fragile hearts and minds on that boat, just as ignorant to his world as he was to theirs. They began to flash things, nothing that harmed him but startled him. He gathered quite a crowd on open deck of the stern. They had boxes in their hands, with little eyes on them that flashed like lightning. They gawked and gasped, they smelled like chemical greases which in their world was called sunscreen and deep fryer oil for the fish. He had remembered what Seth had said, and this was no time to pick a fight with humans. He had ducked under, and returned to the depths of the open sea, being more covert about his pursuit to Soari’i.


~~



The water here was cleaner and warmer. The sand was white like artic snow, but fine as baby powder. It was a small island, north to the mass of smaller clusters of land and out of the main concerning eyes of dragons. The journey was long, but it had only taken two days in dragon form. It was a relaxing dive, he did not expend anything beyond comfort. His fat reserves as a dragon had kept him from stopping to eat, almost like a large scale jog. Before he got to shallow, his form and shriveled down into his primary, birth form. He looked just like a Tshaali again.


Romanukia had a lot of time to think on his way here. He thought about the faces, and there were too many of them to sort out. But there was something now that concerned him and excited him. Roman didn’t forget smells often, he had a memory of them worth over a 1000 years. Oh and there was no replacing that memory. Jaidah.


Jaidah. Jaidah and Ayasha. The Aukman and SongCrier. His ladies, both those in which he restored his passion with-here on the same island.


He was at a distance, and he stayed there before either of them could see him. He watched them interact, like a loving harem would be back in the old days. When he was a child, a wealthy man was backed by a small pack of hand-chosen women, a harem. A happy harem, a dynamic harem, lead a man to greatness. That didn’t work in modern days, now that the tribes were facing possible genocide. Any promiscuity would lead to fights, a woman needed a man’s utmost attention to survive in such a dangerous, wider world. But, if life were like his primal ages, he figured such a harem would look just like this. Their hands freely moved across each other’s faces, their happy faces and smiles-as if they were sisters. But a grave truth awaited Roman, when his heat sensing lense of his eyes took over, he couldn’t help but to look straight through their bodies. Both Jaidah and Ayasha were red blobs, their skin receding to a green aura, where their heat dissipates from their skin. Inside each red blob were smaller red blobs, curled up in the front of their stomachs. The growing heat indicated age even, but the warmth of their bodies and the bodies within the bodies had only said one thing. Jaidah and Ayasha were mothers to be. From the temperatures, the ages could only fit for one likely father…


Roman.


So. These were the missing faces. His children. All of them were his. But they had so suddenly trapped him here, and made him vulnerable. Whos to say they wouldn’t tear each other apart, kill each other’s children like Tshaali would, it was simply an instinctual reaction to help survival. Lessen the mouths to feed, so that the male can only feed the few. What a painful though, Jaidah versus Ayasha. The token prize was in the center too, a couple of undeveloped children that were about to mean the world to Roman. It was a fragile prize that Roman wasn’t willing to sacrifice –this time that is. But he stood there, uncertain of their motives and just giving it a second before emotions might fill in the gaps. He was ignorant to what they call romance, but he was a man loyal to his instinctual duties. In his culture, a man’s rarest treasure was legacy and those who helped him create it. In other words, he didn’t have to be in love with either of them to be more concerned than a lovestruck fool might be. He didn’t have to kiss them goodnight and cuddle them like children themselves to have the utmost desperation to be by their sides. It was a deep respect, something a human or even a mortal shifter would never quite get.


Replies:
  • x - By Lz September 3, 2013 at 04:06:29 AM
    Accepted - By Lz September 3, 2013 at 02:03:17 AM

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