there are two kinds of spiritual law - Printable Version +- 'Souls IPB Archive (November 2007–October 2012) (https://soulsrpg.com/ipb) +-- Forum: Dead IC (https://soulsrpg.com/ipb/forumdisplay.php?fid=110) +--- Forum: Dead LASKY (https://soulsrpg.com/ipb/forumdisplay.php?fid=52) +--- Thread: there are two kinds of spiritual law (/showthread.php?tid=19361) |
- Ezekiel de le Poer - 07-20-2011 [html]
Word Count → 700 :: Private.
The storm had begun mid-afternoon, when bruise colored clouds rolled in from the west. Ezekiel had watched them come from his cave, and tasting the rain in the air and studying the jagged bolts of lightning cut across the sky. They struck the bay often, hitting the water and the beach with savage indifference. He did not fear storms, but respected them. This explained why he lingered in the safety of the stone cave, perched near the entrance and smoking silently. Ezekiel made a point not to smoke around the others—he disliked the way that Talitha scorned him for such a thing, and knew many saw it as weakness. It was safe to smoke during storms, for the wind and the rain hid the smell of tobacco and clove and (rarely) marijuana. He liked the cloves because they did not dizzy his sensed as the marijuana did. While it gave his scent a strong note, Ezekiel knew how to hide this if he so desired. An hour into the storm the wind had become so savage he had retreated fully inside, where Ibsen was. The raven lived in the cave, as he had since birth, and neither of the two found this odd. He was sitting on one of the books the coyote had brought back from the city, reading it slowly. Words were still difficult for him. “The storm’s getting worse,” Ezekiel said, leaning against the deer-hide pillow he had fashioned. It was stuffed with pine needles and smelled pleasant, on top of providing a comfortable place to rest. “It is summer,” Ibsent replied in his harsh voice, for nothing could make a raven’s speech smooth. “You said summer is when the storms are worst. It will pass.” The coyote smiled, amused by the blunt pattern his companion used. “How’s your story?” A laughing caw came from the raven. The coyote’s choice of words was well-made. It was, after all, a play by the man whose name the bird carried that was the subject of discussion. “I think I spoke better as a man,” the bird admitted, hopping back to turn the page with one clawed foot. “You should get more books.” Outside, the thunder roared and the wind howled. Ezekiel turned his head towards the sound, listening with interest. He wondered how the majority of the clan felt so safe in the Mansion. Stone walls comforted him, and despite the heat of the summer, his home was cool. The small amount of light given off from an oil lamp was enough for the two animals, though Ezekiel knew that the small supply of lamp-oil he had found in the city would not last the summer. “I’ll go soon,” he reassured the bird, who made a noise at this but settled back into his book. Ezekiel slept for a few hours while the storm blew on and out towards the Atlantic. He woke recalling a dream, but it faded the more he fought to grasp it. Frustrated, he slunk outside while Ibsen slept on his open book. The rain had cooled the night air considerably, and the coyote shifted to his Lupus form so as to better travel. It was an easy thing to do from the caves, for the dirt trail lead away from this point in various directions. One route followed the new line of the borders, the other cut directly north, a third followed the river, and a fourth turned east and towards the Mansion. The Aquila took this path but veered away at the scent of deer. He was large enough to hunt alone, though he himself preferred hunting with the bow. Still, he would not pass up an easy meal. Yet the more he tracked the source, veering wildly through thickening forests and closer to the border, the more he realized this deer was terribly elusive. He hadn’t heard anything, nor had he seen any other hints that the animal was around. It was peculiar, but his nose told him he was close, and so he followed with a hunter’s easy trot. Perhaps if he was noisy he’d spook the damn thing and it would make itself known. That way he’d at least know it was there. .zkrvn-table {background-color:#;border:0px solid black;font-family:GARAMOND, serif;font-size:12px;color:#aa0000;letter-spacing:.4px;word-spacing:.4px;line-height:16px;width:100%;text-align:justify;background-position:top left;background-repeat:no-repeat;padding-top:10px;background-image:url(http://i.imgur.com/4xkTQ.png);margin:0 auto;margin-top:5px;} .zkrvn-extra {padding:0px;padding-left:15px;} .zkrvn-wc {font-weight:bold;color:#fff;font-size:14px; text-shadow: 0.0em 0.0em 0.2em #000; letter-spacing:1px;} .zkrvn-ooc {font-weight:normal;color:#fff;font-size:11px; text-shadow: 0.0em 0.0em 0.2em #000; letter-spacing:1px;} .zkrvn-inner {border:1px solid black;margin:0px auto;background-color:transparent;border-radius:3px;-moz-border-radius:3px;-webkit-border-radius:3px;background-image:url(http://i.imgur.com/ivGER.png);background-repeat:repeat;background-position:top left;font-size:14px;color:#000000;margin:0px 0px 0px 50px;width:80%;text-align:justify;padding:10px;} .zkrvn-inner p {text-indent:10px;} .zkrvn-inner b {color:#fff; text-shadow: 0.0em 0.0em 0.1em #000; letter-spacing:1px;} .zkrvn-copy {text-align:center;font-size:9px;font-variantmall-caps;padding:0px;} </style> [/html] - Caillen Winters - 07-21-2011 [html] OOC → ilu forever bb <3 Rain.
.cai-deer1 {margin:0px auto;width:450px;background-color:transparent;background-image:url(http://i.imgur.com/Nwg1d.png);background-repeat:no-repeat;background-position:top center;border:none;padding:0px;font-family:Georgia;font-size:12px;line-height:16px;text-align:justify;margin-top:10px;} .cai-deer1 .ooc {font-style:italic;font-size:11px;line-height:15px;text-align:left;margin:2px;text-indent:0px;} .cai-deer1 .ooc b {font-weight:bold;font-style:normal;} .cai-deer1 .divider {border-bottom:1px solid;} .cai-deer1 p {text-indent:20px;margin:0px;padding:5px 10px;} .cai-deer1 b {font-weight:bold;color:#fff; text-shadow: 0.0em 0.0em 0.2em #008aff; letter-spacing:1px;} .cai-deer1 i {font-style:italic;letter-spacing:1px;} .cai-deer1 u {font-style:italic;text-decoration:none;font-variantmall-caps;border-bottom:1px dotted;letter-spacing:1px;} </style>[/html] - Ezekiel de le Poer - 07-21-2011 [html]
Word Count → ::
He felt the air change and held his breath. Like all creatures of the forest, all beasts of shadowed places and ancient woodland, the coyote gave himself over to the sensations of the land. Each noise spoke to him; his ears turned wildly at the night-birds and beasts. Wide eyes sucked in what little light given away by heaven, but even now the boughs were thick and their roots deep. Ezekiel relied on his other senses. Whiskers brushed against undergrowth and trees as he passed light-footed and with a coyote’s gait. A tingling sensation erupted along his left arm and the golden shadow exhaled. The air felt heavy; the rain had not chilled it as he had hoped, and instead filled his lungs with hot warmth. Ezekiel’s body felt sluggish. He panted as he walked, head and tail even with his spine—he walked like a wolf, though he did not consider himself this. Yet there was much of his father’s blood within him. Much too, of his father’s faith, though this had been watered down like the wolf. God did not speak to Gabriel’s unworthy children. Talitha doubted and Talitha blasphemed. Ezekiel had strayed from the flock and come to know other, weaker things that perhaps did not serve the God of Isaac and Abraham and Moses. It was this that allowed him to believe in what his eyes found. How could they not? The stag glowed without giving off light, and it felt unnatural, it felt wrong. Ezekiel’s hackles rose and he grew still. .zkrvn-table {background-color:#;border:0px solid black;font-family:GARAMOND, serif;font-size:12px;color:#aa0000;letter-spacing:.4px;word-spacing:.4px;line-height:16px;width:100%;text-align:justify;background-position:top left;background-repeat:no-repeat;padding-top:10px;background-image:url(http://i.imgur.com/4xkTQ.png);margin:0 auto;margin-top:5px;} .zkrvn-extra {padding:0px;padding-left:15px;} .zkrvn-wc {font-weight:bold;color:#fff;font-size:14px; text-shadow: 0.0em 0.0em 0.2em #000; letter-spacing:1px;} .zkrvn-ooc {font-weight:normal;color:#fff;font-size:11px; text-shadow: 0.0em 0.0em 0.2em #000; letter-spacing:1px;} .zkrvn-inner {border:1px solid black;margin:0px auto;background-color:transparent;border-radius:3px;-moz-border-radius:3px;-webkit-border-radius:3px;background-image:url(http://i.imgur.com/ivGER.png);background-repeat:repeat;background-position:top left;font-size:14px;color:#000000;margin:0px 0px 0px 50px;width:80%;text-align:justify;padding:10px;} .zkrvn-inner p {text-indent:10px;} .zkrvn-inner b {color:#fff; text-shadow: 0.0em 0.0em 0.1em #000; letter-spacing:1px;} .zkrvn-copy {text-align:center;font-size:9px;font-variantmall-caps;padding:0px;} </style> [/html] - Caillen Winters - 07-21-2011 [html] OOC → <3 Badb came with quiet steps, and the stag waited patiently, knowing as the forest did that he was soon to be. There was a warmth to the air that did not pervade the immortal hide of the beast, but it was not cruel by nature. Blue eyes will filled with sorrow, such a deep and impervious sorrow that one could almost feel it sliding tendrils through warm flesh.
.cai-deer1 {margin:0px auto;width:450px;background-color:transparent;background-image:url(http://i.imgur.com/Nwg1d.png);background-repeat:no-repeat;background-position:top center;border:none;padding:0px;font-family:Georgia;font-size:12px;line-height:16px;text-align:justify;margin-top:10px;} .cai-deer1 .ooc {font-style:italic;font-size:11px;line-height:15px;text-align:left;margin:2px;text-indent:0px;} .cai-deer1 .ooc b {font-weight:bold;font-style:normal;} .cai-deer1 .divider {border-bottom:1px solid;} .cai-deer1 p {text-indent:20px;margin:0px;padding:5px 10px;} .cai-deer1 b {font-weight:bold;color:#fff; text-shadow: 0.0em 0.0em 0.2em #008aff; letter-spacing:1px;} .cai-deer1 i {font-style:italic;letter-spacing:1px;} .cai-deer1 u {font-style:italic;text-decoration:none;font-variantmall-caps;border-bottom:1px dotted;letter-spacing:1px;} </style>[/html] - Ezekiel de le Poer - 07-25-2011 [html]
Word Count → 3+ ::
Ezekiel saw but he did not wish to see. His eyes widened in the dark, sucking in the glowing beast. It was powerful, magnificent, beautiful—it was dead and unreal and cold. Half of him was drawn to its light; the other half repelled. Desperation rushed through his blood. Run! came the cry, but his feet would not obey. The earth held him fast. He imagined he could feel it turn beneath him. A voice carried through the air, through the wind, through his heart and soul. It was her voice, and it was the voice of a dead man, and it was a voice of something both more and less than what had once been. Faith gave power, and forgotten gods and spirits fell away, grew weak. Ezekiel’s mouth opened to taste the night air. Copper. Water. New-turned earth. Did he know that language? He must have. It was as clear to him as the language of beasts. The savage thing that was a coyote in one hand and a bird both raven and eagle in the other stared into the eyes made of fog and clouds. Ezekiel stood rigid, his head rising to meet the strange thing that was but was not a deer. He called himself Macha. He called himself Pemtemweha. This name the Aquila knew—he had heard stories of the great white beast that protected his own. Ezekiel’s fur rose along his spine to an impossible height. Fear filled him. “She called you,” he accused with shock. “She used mudjimushkeeki.” The fear turned to anger almost as quickly as he had realized this. The black-brushed hybrid bared his teeth at the not-deer. “I did what I was taught, Pemtemweha!” He honored the herd, he did not abused the deer—how had she managed to call their god down on him? .zkrvn-table {background-color:#;border:0px solid black;font-family:GARAMOND, serif;font-size:12px;color:#aa0000;letter-spacing:.4px;word-spacing:.4px;line-height:16px;width:100%;text-align:justify;background-position:top left;background-repeat:no-repeat;padding-top:10px;background-image:url(http://i.imgur.com/4xkTQ.png);margin:0 auto;margin-top:5px;} .zkrvn-extra {padding:0px;padding-left:15px;} .zkrvn-wc {font-weight:bold;color:#fff;font-size:14px; text-shadow: 0.0em 0.0em 0.2em #000; letter-spacing:1px;} .zkrvn-ooc {font-weight:normal;color:#fff;font-size:11px; text-shadow: 0.0em 0.0em 0.2em #000; letter-spacing:1px;} .zkrvn-inner {border:1px solid black;margin:0px auto;background-color:transparent;border-radius:3px;-moz-border-radius:3px;-webkit-border-radius:3px;background-image:url(http://i.imgur.com/ivGER.png);background-repeat:repeat;background-position:top left;font-size:14px;color:#000000;margin:0px 0px 0px 50px;width:80%;text-align:justify;padding:10px;} .zkrvn-inner p {text-indent:10px;} .zkrvn-inner b {color:#fff; text-shadow: 0.0em 0.0em 0.1em #000; letter-spacing:1px;} .zkrvn-copy {text-align:center;font-size:9px;font-variantmall-caps;padding:0px;} </style> [/html] - Caillen Winters - 07-26-2011 [html] OOC → <3 Eternal eyes saw the man's soul, trembling within him as his faith burned through. Fear brimmed in the eagle's eyes, but the stag remained poised, pure in all ways. He was the forest, exhaling around Ezekiel, and he was the sky, stretching forever across all worlds. He was the deer-god, and as knowing passed through the eyes of the sinner, Macha nodded slowly. He could hear the language of the man's heart and mind, the thoughts before they were voiced. The eagle spoke more with his heartbeat than he ever could with his tongue.
.cai-deer1 {margin:0px auto;width:450px;background-color:transparent;background-image:url(http://i.imgur.com/Nwg1d.png);background-repeat:no-repeat;background-position:top center;border:none;padding:0px;font-family:Georgia;font-size:12px;line-height:16px;text-align:justify;margin-top:10px;} .cai-deer1 .ooc {font-style:italic;font-size:11px;line-height:15px;text-align:left;margin:2px;text-indent:0px;} .cai-deer1 .ooc b {font-weight:bold;font-style:normal;} .cai-deer1 .divider {border-bottom:1px solid;} .cai-deer1 p {text-indent:20px;margin:0px;padding:5px 10px;} .cai-deer1 b {font-weight:bold;color:#fff; text-shadow: 0.0em 0.0em 0.2em #008aff; letter-spacing:1px;} .cai-deer1 i {font-style:italic;letter-spacing:1px;} .cai-deer1 u {font-style:italic;text-decoration:none;font-variantmall-caps;border-bottom:1px dotted;letter-spacing:1px;} </style>[/html] - Ezekiel de le Poer - 07-28-2011 [html]
Word Count → ::
So it came to pass that Ezekiel learned the truth of Alaine’s blood—that she was truly chosen by the stag-king, as her stories had spoken of. Did that make him a raven, then? Perhaps. A raven with savage instincts like an eagle. He was some kind of monster, of this there was no doubt. He had committed a crime against the thing that was not a god to him and knew in his heart that there was no turning back. No ritual had been performed to honor the dead son; he had brought this upon himself. Rippling fury grew at the idea. Ezekiel was still very much a boy, and like all boys, he had not developed wisdom yet. A threat was a threat even if it came from a spirit (demon? god?) and the strange thing that had come from the wolves in the shape of a coyote bristled. “You have no power here,” he hissed, his voice turning hoarse and strange. The voice of Badb, of the Raven King that had long ago claimed the rocky lands on which they stood. War was eternal. Purgatory was eternal. Shadows cast strange shapes on his back, turning the black patch into something larger, amorphous (wings, perhaps). His body felt strange to him. “Peccavi. Alea iacta est quibus finem.” .zkrvn-table {background-color:#;border:0px solid black;font-family:GARAMOND, serif;font-size:12px;color:#aa0000;letter-spacing:.4px;word-spacing:.4px;line-height:16px;width:100%;text-align:justify;background-position:top left;background-repeat:no-repeat;padding-top:10px;background-image:url(http://i.imgur.com/4xkTQ.png);margin:0 auto;margin-top:5px;} .zkrvn-extra {padding:0px;padding-left:15px;} .zkrvn-wc {font-weight:bold;color:#fff;font-size:14px; text-shadow: 0.0em 0.0em 0.2em #000; letter-spacing:1px;} .zkrvn-ooc {font-weight:normal;color:#fff;font-size:11px; text-shadow: 0.0em 0.0em 0.2em #000; letter-spacing:1px;} .zkrvn-inner {border:1px solid black;margin:0px auto;background-color:transparent;border-radius:3px;-moz-border-radius:3px;-webkit-border-radius:3px;background-image:url(http://i.imgur.com/ivGER.png);background-repeat:repeat;background-position:top left;font-size:14px;color:#000000;margin:0px 0px 0px 50px;width:80%;text-align:justify;padding:10px;} .zkrvn-inner p {text-indent:10px;} .zkrvn-inner b {color:#fff; text-shadow: 0.0em 0.0em 0.1em #000; letter-spacing:1px;} .zkrvn-copy {text-align:center;font-size:9px;font-variantmall-caps;padding:0px;} </style> [/html] - Caillen Winters - 08-16-2011 [html] OOC → <3 He/Macha/Pemtemweha saw the dark shadow there, the lingering form of the Betrayer, of Lugh and Badb and the wing of Darkness. He saw all things - The old war, a battle of a time that stretched cold fingers far beyond the charred pages of the book of this world. The light versus the dark; A wheel that turned, never slowing, never stopping. Always, the war.
.cai-deer1 {margin:0px auto;width:450px;background-color:transparent;background-image:url(http://i.imgur.com/Nwg1d.png);background-repeat:no-repeat;background-position:top center;border:none;padding:0px;font-family:Georgia;font-size:12px;line-height:16px;text-align:justify;margin-top:10px;} .cai-deer1 .ooc {font-style:italic;font-size:11px;line-height:15px;text-align:left;margin:2px;text-indent:0px;} .cai-deer1 .ooc b {font-weight:bold;font-style:normal;} .cai-deer1 .divider {border-bottom:1px solid;} .cai-deer1 p {text-indent:20px;margin:0px;padding:5px 10px;} .cai-deer1 b {font-weight:bold;color:#fff; text-shadow: 0.0em 0.0em 0.2em #008aff; letter-spacing:1px;} .cai-deer1 i {font-style:italic;letter-spacing:1px;} .cai-deer1 u {font-style:italic;text-decoration:none;font-variantmall-caps;border-bottom:1px dotted;letter-spacing:1px;} </style>[/html] |