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Post by silverdust on Jun 6, 2007 14:11:07 GMT -7
She wore a mourning veil that fell over her like a sheer black cascade, the moonlight turning it into a pool of shadow and silver gathered at her feet. She knelt before the small, fine crafted tomb, the smooth beads of the rosary slipping in between her slender fingers. But her lips were silent, the delicate face a blank and tranquil mask. Whatever prayers she said were intimate things, locked deep in her heart, hidden behind facades of skin and silk. Only her breath stirred the night air, rippling the folds of cloth, and giving any indication that this young anthromorph was a living creature and not a guardian of stone. That, and the deft movement of her hands in gentle prayer. It was an odd place to be in the middle of the night, in the heart of a Euclide-infested city with no visible protection. Everything about her seemed too fragile, too evanescent, from the softness of her fur to the tenuous length of her limbs. She was no warrior. Her beauty held that certain purity about it, the purity of one who had never taken a life or even thought of such. A Missionary's work would never require such extremes, at least not the way she had been taught. But still, she could never shake her single taint. Her brow furrowed slightly as the roughened glass beads abruptly gave way to the soft touch of fine pearls; an odd rosary indeed, a ragtag mix of pious elegance and vain finery. The closed eyelids gave a small flicker, almost as if the tears could start anew. Never, never would she be able to rid herself of that scent of blood.
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Post by Kitty Love on Jun 6, 2007 16:47:36 GMT -7
(( Are you looking for an Amuni or would you mind if my Torn/Agony happenned across her? ))
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Post by silverdust on Jun 6, 2007 20:27:51 GMT -7
((No preference in particular, I just need to play with her a bit to pin down her personality ;D ))
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Nathalia
Marionette
The Phosprey Gryphon of doom
Posts: 385
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Post by Nathalia on Jun 6, 2007 20:31:08 GMT -7
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Post by silverdust on Jun 7, 2007 5:19:01 GMT -7
((That's fine, anyone's free to join really <3 ))
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Nathalia
Marionette
The Phosprey Gryphon of doom
Posts: 385
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Post by Nathalia on Jun 7, 2007 15:36:21 GMT -7
Chunk! Scrrraaapppe! Draaaaaaag.... Chunk! Scrrraaapppe! Draaaaaaag..... The odd sound was muffled against the ground, but odd; hollow and fleshy all at once. There was a wheezing of breath, a few coughs, and a slight groan as the noise moved forward. An old Torn pulled himself along, slowly. His body was a horrific mess. Both back legs were missing; one was nothing more than a mass of dangling pulpy flesh, the other, a stump of bone with dangling veins. His forelegs had barely fared better, looking as thought hey had been skinned, only a fine layer of muscle keeping the bones beneath the surface. He wheezed again, snorting through the deep holes in his face that may once have been a nose. He tugged at the leather bag hanging over his shoulder, dragging it along the earth after his aching body. He paused to rest in the cool grass; his lower body was paining him. Strings of thick drool dangled from his lips as he panted; looking around and attempting to gauge his surroundings. Where was she? He was supposed to meet her here.... Looking slightly frantic, the Euclides froze, holding his breath and listening intently with what was left of his ears. There! A sound on the wind, close by...but so faint...like the clacking of beads...he wasn't even truly sure he had heard it at all. Plastering himself to the ground, he crept forward; avoiding having his bone stump hit the ground and moving slower to avoid noise. Then he spotted it. There was a figure in the moonlight, tall and upright. He paused, and sniffed hesitantly. Good...not a human, then. The moonlight spilled over them, if he hadn't know any better, he would have thought the creature a statue...He sniffed again...definitely a female but, this was NOT his Lady... Damn... Lifting his head, he decided to just make his presence known. Perhaps they had seen his Lady pass by? Perhaps this was a messenger left for him? "Whell 'ello, pretty whan." He said, cheerily, holding out a paw in greeting. His voice sounded like sandpaper being dragged across a rotting limb. "What'chew doin' out 'ere, eh? You sheen another Lady passh by? Only, ah'm lookin' fer a friend ahf mine, wonderin' if yeh'd seen 'er?"
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Post by silverdust on Jun 8, 2007 13:28:46 GMT -7
She had felt the presence of another, vaguely, the tingling on the back of her neck. She had hoped that it had just been her imagination, or the coolness of the wind. But the realization of it hit her hard in the pit of her stomach, like a chunk of ice, turning her blood so cold it hurt in her veins. It was not...him, but it was one of his kind. Coming closer. Her breath started to catch in her throat, and she forced it through her mouth in small mumbled prayer. "Beata Maria, Madonna, proteggermi, per favore..."
But no, she could not ask for protection, not being so stained herself. She whirled about at the voice, taking a few hazarding steps back from the sound of that grating voice. At the sight of the mutilated creature...she clenched her eyes shut, feeling her stomach churn. How could one still be alive? How could these Euclide stand this pain, and he talking to her as if there was nothing the matter at all. As if...he couldn't possibly not know what she was? Or had she been tainted so that she was unrecognizable...
She whimpered, half out of fear and half out of bitter shame, knotting her paws tightly in the rosary. Her words stumbled over themselves, tangling in her thick accent into something akin to gibberish. "Per favore...please...I have seen no lady, nessuno...do not hurt me, I beg of you..."
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Nathalia
Marionette
The Phosprey Gryphon of doom
Posts: 385
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Post by Nathalia on Jun 8, 2007 21:52:44 GMT -7
Mulsej started slightly, his shoulders snapping back as his eyes fully focused.
An Amuni? One of the Church folk? Ah... Alright then...
"Whell, Ah en't gonna hurt yeh, pretty whan." He waved a paw in a calming motion. "Ah just had some questions."
His head spun. Just had some questions, then he'd better think of them fast. Would his Lady find him here? Perhaps Furl had caught him up? He glanced upward, flicking his eyes up instead of moving his head. It looked like a small spasm.
He could smell the fear rolling off of her...but something in her voice had caught his attention...was it pity? Really? For him? How grand.
"Like Ah said," He continued, placing his bag on the ground and holding up his paws. "Ah en't gonna hurt yew, Ah'll stay right 'ere, I promish." He lowered himself slightly with a pained groan, there was much more pain behind it in his voice than he normally let through...theatrics, he loved them so.
"Ahhh..." He whimpered softly. "Ah, jes' need tae sit fer a second, your worship. It jus' hurts something awful..." He grimaced a tad, having slid his loose mass of muscle incorrectly under himself. "So, yeh 'aven't seen anyone else this night?" He tilted his head to one side, looking hopeful, then crestfallen. "Ah, whell that's a shame, then, 'M sorry tae bother yeh, pretty whan. Got better things tae do than deal with an old fool such as meself, eh?"
He watched the paw-like hands clutch the rosary tightly. He smiled, not showing his teeth and attempting to stop drooling. "Yeh don't 'ave tae be scared." He murmured. "I meant it... I won't hurt yehs..."
He was shocked to find that he actually meant it. He had never conversed with one of them before. Always figured they'd burn him with some sort of spell or something, whatever it was they did...set him on edge, the whole cult of 'em. What was this Lady doing out here? The Torn was surprised to find himself settling in for an amiable chat...
He shrugged, mentally. Always good to talk, helped take his mind off of things... He waved away any worries of speaking with her. Always good to chat, he excused himself.
He tried to set her at ease, tucking his front paws under his body. "So...My good Lady...can I be ahf any asshistance to yehs? Yeh lookin' fer someone what's hard tae find?"
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Post by silverdust on Jun 9, 2007 16:36:09 GMT -7
Every movement, every sound...carnage flashed before her eyes, memories dragged back into the light. Was this punishment, then, some form of bitter retribution? She would never be free from these creatures, never be free from the weight of her deeds even though she was little more than a pawn. She had been weak, she was still weak, and everything was spiralling out of control. All she had wanted to do was pray for them, but even that seemed forbidden to her.
She bowed her head, hiding her eyes behind the dark veil. It was not wise to take eyes off an enemy, but so many months of being on guard, constantly tense, constantly afraid...her body could do it no longer. She would swallow her sentence, swallow the circumstance. This...torn up creature was nothing compared to...the other...and he had said that he wouldn't hurt her yes? Her church was not far, they would come looking, and she would wait for them, or for this one to lose interest.
Why would he even want to speak to her, and so easily as if he did not know the feud between their blood? Did she really seem so pathetic, or could he still smell the other on her, as if she wore his scent like perfume. She would always smell it, but till then thought it the bitter illusions of her mind. They couldn't be tangible, at least, she hoped. But her hope was already worn too thin.
"No, I need nothing," her voice was low, resigned, just a delicate stirring in the air. She didn't spit malice or condescension like many of her brethren; hers was toneless, tired, a broken english. "I pray, at the tomb of my family. That is all."
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Nathalia
Marionette
The Phosprey Gryphon of doom
Posts: 385
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Post by Nathalia on Jun 10, 2007 19:45:37 GMT -7
Mulsej watched the girls as she seemed to struggle with herself. She seemed about to speak, before apparently changing her mind. Perhaps he was just a bit too odd...perhaps she was about to run.
Shame, that.
He was surprised when; she lowered her eyes and spoke. She seemed resigned.
"Ah, poor gel, sho shorry tae hear about yer family. S' always 'ard tae lose the onesh yeh care about, eh?"
He gave her a sympathetic look; he did know how it felt to lose your family. Just in a bit of a different way...when his mother had figured out he would be a Torn, like his father, she pitched him out into the street, threatening him with death if he so much as looked at her or his siblings again. He shook his head.
"Terrible thing indeed, what 'appened to 'em?" He gestured to her veil. "Ah, tha' wahs bad of meh. Yer in mournin' sorry 'bout that." He paused, looking behind her at tomb, then back at her face. There was something more to her sadness than she was letting on, he could tell that much. What, he had no idea...but...
"Wha' yeh doin' to send 'em on their way?" He asked, curious about the sendoffs the Amuni used. "We usually jus' burn the bugger, iffin' we cared two bits about 'em. What yew all do fer the onsh yew put away, eh? Tell 'em yeh still love 'em an' stuff?" He tilted his head to the side, honestly wondering if she would deign to give him an answer. "Ah've got an idea, pretty whan..." He pulled his bag closer t him and reached inside, pulling out something wrapped in cloth.
He had stopped by the market earlier to grab a few things for his Lady. After sending a lone late-night stall minder running. He made use of the interlude to lift a few things. The grapes were for his Lady, those stayed in the bag. But...he supposed he could spare the bundle of bread and the flask of water.
He shoved the bundle towards the Amuni.
"Ere yew are, m'dear. Yeh look like yeh've beehn out 'ere fer a while. 'Ave summat tae eat, Ah don't need it that bad, then." He felt honestly badly for the girl. It could just be the fact that he was easily attracted to any pretty face, but...the whole family idea was what had gotten him...damn...he was going soft...
He smiled. "Dahn worry, 's not poisoned or anythin' jus' got it offa human earlier. " He re-settled and awaited her move, hoping she wouldn't run, but seriously expecting it.
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Post by silverdust on Jun 11, 2007 17:52:54 GMT -7
...got it offa human...
God, she hoped it wasn't-! She cringed away as the parcel was pushed toward her. But there was no scent of blood, no sickness swelling inside; nothing but bread, the small swish of water. Gingerly, she reached out and toyed with the parcel, the slim hand tentative as if the package was more in danger of fleeing than she. She had no reason to trust this Euclides, no premise to accept this gift, other than a mechanical servitude that had been beaten into her. That much was evident in the way she drew the food toward her, but made no move to eat. She picked at the bread though, tearing at the softness as if she might be considering taking part of it.
"I...here I ask their forgiveness," she shut her eyes again, as if the word brought her pain. "My mother, that is, she taught that I was to pray the Rosary every night. I do it here, so that she...if she..."
She trailed off. Mother. Mother would not be listening to her, only the dead and rotting bones beneath the turf. Mother had gone forth to Paradise, a sinless death even though it had been murder. And if in that heaven she had looked down to see that one of her daughters had been spared their slaughter...but then to see the fate that awaited her, that would've been a stain to her eyes. No, it was too much to believe that her shaky prayers would reach them. Instead they fell to the earth, wingless birds, fruitless repentence.
She clenched the bread in her fist, feeling the nails bite through into her palm. Even if they did forgive her, how could she know that they had found their way to Paradise? She could only pray in this vicious, doubting cycle. "I have tried to give them what they would have wanted, what they need. But I could not, for they lie buried in broken pieces, the rest carrion for birds and beasts. So I must pray for them."
She gave a little smile, not directly at her companion, but her eyes trained on the ground. "It is all I can do."
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Nathalia
Marionette
The Phosprey Gryphon of doom
Posts: 385
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Post by Nathalia on Jun 11, 2007 21:06:03 GMT -7
Mulsej watched as she hesitantly pulled the parcel to her as though it might bite. He admired her form, now that he could see her more clearly.
What a lovely thing. He longed to stroke her, to touch her hands...The old Torn gave himself a mental shake.
No! Enough time to reflect on her beauty later. She's here to talk to now... Listen to that sweet voice, let it haunt your dreams for a while, yet.
The old Torn snapped back to attention as she began to speak again, pulling a sympathetic, yet wry look at the talk of mothers. The Amuni trailed off and seemed to stare into space for a moment, reflecting. He thought about prompting her, but thought better of it. Better to let her locate her train of thought, then to destroy it entirely...
He watched her crumple the bread, without eating any of it...shame that, he should have expected it, though. He listened to her explanation, that her family lay in broken pieces...probably torn apart by Euclides...the poor things. The poor girl...the poor, beautiful girl...
Forgiveness?...had she had a part in the deaths?...he wondered, that might explain why she would talk to him, at any rate...
"Ahll yeh kin do, eh?" He whispered when she appeared to have finished. "Ah kinna know that feelin', s'not a good one either..." He looked back at the tomb again, wondering...
He gave her a small half-smile. "Yeh worried about whether they made to wherevah yew types git tae go when yeh die?" He asked, sympathetically. "Might not seem lahke it, them all ripped up, but Ah reckon, iffin' they was good 'n all, what yew consider good, they're probly all right, ent they now?" He gestured to the bread. "Eat up, pretty whan, 't'll make yeh feel less like cryin'...trus' meh."
Mulsej gazed at her features again, liking them more and more the longer he stared at them...shame she wasn't an Euclides...
"Yeh knnow, Ah believe Ah've fergotten mah manners." He extended a paw in the closest thing to a bow his body could manage. "The name's Mulsej, aht yer service, pretty whan." He continued to smile with his lips closed, keeping his odd teeth and blackened gums from sight. "Ey...do yeh..." He trailed off for a few seconds, wondering whether or not to ask the question. "Ah've always wanted tae ask some ahf yes this...what 'appens to us when we die, eh? Only, I think I'd lahke tae hear it from yew, yeh seem less like yer gonna laugh..."
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Post by silverdust on Jun 12, 2007 20:50:24 GMT -7
She listened to his comfort well enough. It should be meaningless to her, after all, what could one of their kind possibly know about the circumstances. Only as much as she was willing to tell him, and if she had not told anyone but the Cardinal the whole truth...she should stop herself before she sullied herself any further. Still, when he asked her to eat she did so automatically, like a marionette in a music box. It was still sweet, even in its broken state, and there was no lace of venom that she could taste. But she hadn't really expected it of him. Too trusting still, even after all that had been said and done.
She couldn't help the jerk backwards as he extended his paw; it was a reaction she couldn't control, her body too accustomed to roughness rather than tenderness. Every movement about her was taut, like her muscles were of wire, but she remained courteous, servile even. "Biatriste," she murmured softly, tongue trilling the gentle Italian 'r'.
Her eyes flicked upwards at his questions; perhaps for the first time they fixed on his face, taking in the full ravages of his type. A shudder ran down her spine, but still she did not turn, not until she could make out his eyes in the moonlight. Then her gaze drifted down again. "You have white irises. Purgatory, forever, as an undead. Or...there is a chance of rebirth, but never reincarnation. That is all I know, and I may be wrong."
He had told her this, along with other things, made her much too familiar with the intricacies of his race. If she had been a Purity...her coat would be black as tar, but this form showed nothing of the rot inside. She almost wished it would, almost wished for the punishment. Something physical, instead of the deterioration of soul. Maybe in the end she would be doomed to the Euclides soulless wanderings, barred from her Paradise. Perhaps a walking corpse was her destiny as well.
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Nathalia
Marionette
The Phosprey Gryphon of doom
Posts: 385
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Post by Nathalia on Jun 13, 2007 20:47:59 GMT -7
Mulsej watched her movements and reactions; jerky and scared. No, no...not scared...she looked like a... He blinked, the thought was so odd. She looked like a puppet having her strings pulled. Was there more to this gal than she was letting on? Well, probably...he'd most likely not figure it out if she didn't want him to know. Still, the movements unnerved him, Amuni should not act like puppets...not in his book anyway. They were supposed to be beautiful, graceful, and noble, from what he'd heard. For his first impression of an Amuni, this was incredibly odd and not at all what he had expected. He perked up, and listened with extreme interest when she actually began to answer his question, he hadn't expected her to. He had expected her to tell him that it was a matter of "higher powers" or some tosh like that. Her eyes suddenly flicked up to meet his, he nearly choked on his own breath, people tended not to look at him like that, especially not beautiful people. He would have loved it if his Lady would look at him like this... Then he heard what she actually told him... The old Torn blinked in mild surprise. "Whell, no one's eveah tol' me that." He just couldn't quite cover up the look of surprise on his twisted features. "I thought we was all jus' kinna gone." He tilted his head to the side. "What's the betwee' rebirf and reincarnashon, eh? I thought they was one 'n the same?" He trailed his paw in the dust, watching as she ate some of the bread. He kept his smile inward. He was pleased that she had accepted the gift...it made him feel...powerful, that he was able to bend down to her...if only she would bend down to... No! No thoughts like that...she's an Amuni... "Thish Purgatory don't sound too bad, luff. Good ol' tosh, hangin' around forever, eh?" He smiled encouragingly at her. "At least Ah'll be around...'s somethin'. Heh. Not lahke yew though, eh?" He tried to lighten the situation. "Ah heard yew types go to a place inner sky, where yeh gets tae see the people yeh loved 'n stuff. Sounds pretty good, pretty whan." He watched her face fall as she thought, her eyes staying on the ground. Why was she so unhappy? "Ere luff, what's gotcha so fah down?" He reached into the bag again. "P'raps a pretty trinket'll make yeh feel bettah. T' always 'elps those little bunny types in mah Lady's home." He pulled out a thin silver bracelet, adorned with three tiny, purple bells. "Bells ah nice, aren't they?" He asked, ringing them lightly before pushing them toward her. "Ah 'ear 'em all the time in yer big castle things, ringin' away. Brings some light abouts, don't it?"
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Post by silverdust on Jun 16, 2007 6:33:14 GMT -7
"I only know what I have been told."
His had been white irises as well, and that was the singular reason she remembered. She remembered how he had laughed. "Silly things, you creatures of 'God'. Everything is so final, and you're all just falling over yourselves to die and get into your 'Heaven'. But I know something you don't. Nothing changes, everything is here, and I am going to live forever."
Destruction of faith, everyday, every step, every breath of her captivity. And...a part of her had almost believed him. All these Euclide, no matter how hard the Crusade would fight, they would cycle back forever. As undeads like the one who stood before her, or their souls in another body, a stronger one perhaps. It was so pointless, this fight, and she had the burden of knowing, knowing that in the end her family had been slaughtered for naught, and along with that, the purity of her faith. Her immortal soul.
She gave a halfhearted smile, as the pain of realization tore at her again. "I will not go to that place."
She blinked as the small trinket was pushed into her line of vision. The bells, ah yes, Nephiribi's bells. They kept the Fallen company, in her little sanctuary, more for her sake than any of theirs. Vaguely, she wondered what these Euclide might use them for. Did they bring the same joy, the same sorrow? How similar they might be, without ever knowing. She could not accept it, thought, not with the rosary wound tight about her wrists. She could not bear another mark, another pretty chain upon her.
With a subtle shake of her head, she pushed the gift away. "I am sorry, I cannot. Keep it, for your lapines, they will find joy in it."
Her eyes drifted to the distance, on the swell of the moon high in the sky. She had been gone for a long time, perhaps they would worry. And then this old one...
"I should tell you, my church is not far from here. They will come looking, soon."
It wasn't a threat, nor necessarily a warning. Just a simple fact, as if she were commenting on the weather. In light of the Crusade, it would have been better to say nothing and lead the sinner to his doom...but she would have no more blood on her, pure or tainted. It couldn't possibly be so wrong to want that?
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