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: 168.103.248.45
Posted on August 2, 2015 at 04:12:10 AM by ROMULUS
Mister Rommmm! Her voice was nails against a chalkboard. His hackles bristled and he stopped. Why run when he was already caught? And she took advantage of his concrete stance, weaving her way around him in such a way that would have made him grin with lust months and months ago. But now he only grimaced. Where on earth have you been? Malignant rabbits not tasty enough for your refined palette? The scarred bastard flicked his listeners in a show of annoyance. But… a word caught his attention. Refined? Why on earth would she refer to his palette as refined? The short ess jumped out of reach as soon as she finished her little girlish game of trying to impale his self-control. It hadn’t worked. Romulus had perfect self-control. Absolutely perfect. Except… perhaps today was not the day to test that self-control. Don’t bother me, Asia. I’m in no mood for you today. His mistake here was his choice of words. While he had started to walk away from her as his voice rang out into unseen daylight, the gargoyle stopped unconsciously. And he changed his stance. It went from hideously reserved to ridiculously laid out. A labyrinth should she want to play. The kalak reversed and placed himself too close to the fae he could not see. The one without color, without shape, but with a voice of poisoned honey. His shoulders rolled back casually, his plumage suggesting he was offering something interesting, raising just a smidge. Or perhaps the reason why you keep running into me is because you are that sort of girl. He grinned, teeth showing as he moved his face to hers, orbless palette nearly touching hers, but carefully kept from making contact. After all, what kind of girl doesn’t want her first time to be with a man who knows just how to make her feel good? Listeners flattened slightly, lips slightly parted, body suggesting she was a magnet he just couldn’t resist. Sensual. Sexual. I know every secret, every spot. I could make you beg for me to do it…. again and again. He smirked moments later, pulling back so nonchalantly that it was as if the words had never slid out of his mouth. I met up with a few girls. TRUTH. He had actually met with two women, but neither had been the one he was looking forward to seeing. And now here was the third, acting as if she was the most important thing in the world. If Rom had had eyes, she would have seen the clouded, distracted expression in them the whole time that they were speaking. But he did not… and that was both a blessing and a curse. His mouth ran dry briefly as he thought about just what color his eyes had been. Green? Gold? Brown? Silver? The kalak was beginning to forget. Now he moved away from Kirastasia. He’d forgotten about her existence completely. And why? Eriel. The ash and embered demon would never lay eyes on her beautiful orbs again. He would probably never meet with her again in his life. Leave me be, Kirastasia. I’m in a foul mood. And you wouldn’t want to get hurt. Because that’s what Romulus had done ever since he was a child. He’d hurt the people around him. Just by being there. Sophie because he was her bastard, unwanted child. Caspian because he was in charge of the twin monstrosities. The women he played with because he would pretend to love, and then never see them again. Their children because Romulus had no idea the color of any of his offsprings eyes. And he never would see them. Eriel because he’d feigned his not wanting her. Odessa because he had let her down. Everyone around him was bound to be caught in the chaos he brought with him. And not even Kirastasia deserved such. He began to move away, pushing past her in a manner of cruelty that defied every bit of cautiousness and gentleness he had portrayed earlier when speaking of the ways he would be cradling her if she was interested in sex. But Romulus had only been swinging a bat to hit the ball she had thrown. He had no intention of retrieving it, much less following it with his gaze. Not that he had a gaze to follow it with. His body ached. And then the worst happened. Especially since it was in front of this puppet player. Romulus had always had a problem with keeping consciousness due to pain when his eyes bothered him in the past. Apparently tearing them out had not solved the problem. The stilted creature arched his neck, legs swaying out of control and he fell to the earth, a god crashing to the mortal world. Romulus heaved a gasp, pain ricocheting around his chest, focusing in on one main area. In vain he tried to stand back, but all he could manage was to sit up. What he would not understand was that this was no mere genetic fault with him now. It was karma. It was pain from Eriel. The yokai could gather as much as her being the source of his heartache, but he did not know that it was this same pain that had the power to kill him. It would seem…. That the possibility of Eriel being…. No longer a part of this world…. Romulus snarled, finally standing on unstable legs. If Kirastasia was around, he would just snarl, release a guttural growl and ignore her presence after sending a death look. He was not interested in her games. But after a few steps forward, he moved to where there was an overhang of foliage and just sat, trying to catch his breath. His face scrunched, a painful grimace cutting across his handsome features. He would NOT lose consciousness. That would be dangerous in front of this mistress of hell.  |
Replies:
- h e a r t . t h r o b - By k i r a s t a s i a September 3, 2015 at 01:21:26 PM
LASCIATE OGNI SPERANZA, VOI CH'INTRATE - By ROMULUS September 7, 2015 at 08:44:02 PM
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