one saw mud but the other saw stars
#1
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Thread Information
Setting: Anathema, Phosphagos Foothills

Time: Dusk

Character Form: Lupus



We were living proof of a dying dream

The truth is no one saw us coming

The edges of Anathema's territory were more known to the sable-shaded woman now, as she'd spent more time here in the past week and a half than she had anywhere else. She had dedicated much of her time to pacing the edges of the territory or waiting by the main entrance of the cave, hoping Wretch would return soon. Still, she was not so neglectful that she forgot about her living children -- Pandemic and Salvia still needed her, whether or not she made a good mother. Doubt had reared its ugly face, gleaming fangs filled with a poisonous regret bared in a grin. She had entered motherhood without the faintest idea of what to do, and in the weeks and months after the birth of her children, the hybrid had become complacent, figuring she was doing as good a job as any. And then this.


The shadows were changing steadily with the daylight, growing long and dark as the sun sank slowly to the west. The coal-hued hybrid remained on the crest of one of the rolling knolls, seated in short, half-dead grass. When the spring came again, the greenery would sprout from the leftovers of the previous autumn, smothered beneath the winter's snow. Here and there, patches of grass sprouted up defiantly against the yellow and brown, but it was overwhelmed by the lingering dead of winter for the moment. Something of a rarity as of late, the hybrid appeared in her four-legged form, seated on her haunches with her head perked up high, chartreuse yellow eyes clearly watching the pack border. She had paced its length twice already and would not do so again, for fear that she'd never be able to stop.

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#2
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Form: Optime
Watch me butcher the names. I can never remember how to spell half of them. 300+

She'd managed to flourish in the cave system, even without the touch of Momoztli beneath the surface. It was made better by the possible presence of Miqui; she had been so diligent in waiting for his arrival, hoping he would consider her offer of new family. Days were spent in the cave system. Nights found her outside. Anyone who knew her might believe otherwise, but she found herself without the desire to be near her deity. Somehow, living beneath the surface of the earth, she felt as if she betrayed Him and His gaze. The moon lit her path instead.

Tlantli hadn't explored the entirety of the surface. Curiosity prevailing over all other senses, she emerged as the sun set, eyes foundering over unfamiliar land. The foothills were all she really knew. She hadn't wanted to explore anything else. A sigh escaped golden jaws at the sight. It was still cold. It was still wet. She hated it. She missed Eternian summer. Her home was warm, all year long.

Athletic legs carried her into the foothills with surety as she sought out interesting things to take back to Citlali. Instead, her eyes spotted a dark figure. Dark wolves were something she had come to expect, alongside beautiful white ones. It didn't change the fact that she found them exotic and beautiful. Ignoring any sense, she approached the sitting quadruped. The physical markings went ignored for the moment. "Ess ae nice night, si?" she inquired, taking a moment to register the physical appearance of the creature before her. She was a wolf, yes, but there was something else; still, she couldn't place it.

What she could place, however, was the spiral carved into the flesh of one sable shoulder. Kimaris eyes opened wider. Delicate fingers graced her own serpentine scars. The spiral was familiar, but perhaps not the same marking as she hoped it to be.



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#3
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Word Count › 387

We were living proof of a dying dream

The truth is no one saw us coming

Consumed by grief would not have been an accurate description of the coal-hued woman's feelings; it was not so pervasive and all-encompassing that she could not function. Of course, it was not without conscious effort on her part to keep it that way. Often she began to think of Wretch, her mind spiraling tightly around that core concept -- Wretch is gone, some dark corner of her mind would whisper quietly -- and she would have to pull that thought from her head, tearing it from her conscious thought and stuffing it away in those darker recesses of her head. It would not do to be unable to care for her remaining children; it would not do to fall to pieces before Larkspur. That same disquieting voice whispered to her that he did not truly love her, that he only cared for her because she brought his children into this world and she would bring more still, given the chance. Then again, hadn't that been all she valued him for at the outset, too?


The approach of another did not go unnoticed by the coal-hued woman; her small, wolfish ears twitched at the sounds of movement somewhere behind her. There was no fear within her; she assumed it to be Larkspur at first, until she caught that the footfalls were Optime, and not Lupus, and far lighter than any footstep Larkspur could ever hope to make. At that, the chartreuse-eyed woman's head twisted around, swiveling to peer at the tawny-shaded woman. She was slim and coyote-like, and the hybrid looked over her with surprise, lifting both brows as her gaze drew over those markings -- she recognized them and knew their significance with a stab of fear, but she said nothing. The accent, familiar and melodious, flowed over the still night air.


“It is. Have to spend some time outside, otherwise I start to forget what it's like,” she said, waving a paw awkwardly to indicate the world at large. It was hyperbole, true enough, but it was not such an exaggeration that the hybrid began to miss the sun and fresh air after too long spent underground. There was a faint glint of recognition in the sand-hued hybrid's face, and Eris, the former Eternian, waited, that faint and thudding anxiety building deep in her belly somewhere.

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#4
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300+

Tlantli had never worried about being silent around those within the borders of Anathema; as Naniko had made it sound, they were related after crossing the borders with the mark on her hand. Why fear those who became family? Why fear anything in the new world at all? There had been more to fear in her own home, some demon hiding in the face of a half-brother and pseudo-uncle. The sable hybrid was nothing. Baphomet was fear. Everything else was weak. That was what the Kimaris woman had realized as she left the comfort of Eterne for the cold world around it. It was proved on the island.

Green eyes showed recognition of the fae creature's own symbols, just as ruddy coyote gaze caught the sight of the spiral. No fear was noticed. Tlantli never saw herself to be frightening. She was small, she would always be small, and though she was capable of self-protection, she relied on larger beasts to save her from the evils in the world. At one point, it had been powerful Miqui. Before him, Metetztli. Now, it seemed she was a force to be feared, though for unknown reasons.

The woman spoke and pushed her hand through the air as if to recognize the world around them. It brought melodic laughter from the golden muzzle of her company; Tlantli understood her thought on the matter. Without asking permission, she took an inelegant seat beside the wolf body of the stranger. "Aye haft never lived inside ahf the caves before. Where aye come from," she paused, giving a critical glance to the face of the woman beside her, "we live in structures. Only the powerful, ahnd delusional, live in the caverns."

She spoke freely of the High Priestess of Eterne and her circle of minions, of those so twisted within a religion she herself had never truly dissected. There wasn't fear of wrath where she was, not with the sun hiding behind the mountains; Metetztli had been careful in his raising. She was not like their brother. She took little from their faith. She wasn't devout. She sacrificed for Momoztli, but she did not practice frequently, and she did not delude herself into the mantra of coyote supremacy.



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#5
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Word Count → 380


The sable-shaded woman knew the rituals and rites of her pack perfectly well, though she might not have admitted she thought they were perhaps lacking foresight in openly welcoming all as family. She absolutely did not consider the remainder of Anathema to be her close-tied family, though she valued them more than she did those in Inferni, and they were actually blood-related. Her “family,” small and twisted as it was, consisted of herself, Larkspur, the children, Sirius, and Misery, in some strange way. Perhaps the rest of the pack could be thought of as some extended family, but even then, the coal-hued hybrid would not dismiss initial wariness of them, should any arise.


The other woman laughed, and though it caught the coal-hued hybrid by surprise, it only lessened her anxiety a tiny, imperceptible notch -- the rest of it still brewed in her guts uncertainly, writhing and winding around itself in tight knots. The tan-shaded coyote took a seat without waiting for an invitation, which Eris had been rude or anxious enough to forget, and the sable-shaded woman remained where she was, fighting the urge to shift away and keep her eyes on the other canine. The hybrid did not even comprehend her own anxiety and why she was so unnerved by the other canine -- Axi had caused nothing of the sort within her. Then again, Axi was a slave -- made and molded to be subordinate. There was nothing to fear from that canine. This one was yet unknown, however, and the hybrid woman did not know what to expect.


What did come from the other canine's maw, however, surprised the hybrid, and she could not hide this surprise from even her Lupus face, twisting her head to look at the golden-hued canine. “I think these caves are different,” she responded after a long moment of silence in which she had gawked openly for a moment, turning her gaze only when she realized she had to think of something to say. “Not so much delusion here,” she added quickly, the nervousness still twirling around in her. The fear was gone, but there was confusion now, and the sable-shaded woman still did not know what to expect from this tawny stranger bearing the marks of her false homeland.

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#6
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The coyote was able to ignore the anxiety with ease as she began to talk. There was nothing to fear in a Kimaris cast from the ruins of floundering hybrid blood, one who did not hold the Atotoztli amongst the clouds as religious visionaries. Though she did not know the importance, nor did she understand the unease, of the dark woman at her side, Tlantli wasn't her family. Slaves were commonplace in Eterne. In her travels, on her knees for passage to Freetown most of the time since she left her kingdom, she realized the error in slavery. Without hierarchy, without structure, everyone could feel the brunt of slave work. Miqui and Imacai? They'd been lucky. Stealing was so much easier than dealing with the filth that passed through her legs in Barbados. She wondered, sometimes, if they realized just what she endured to bring them to safety.

Her hybrid companion was caught by surprise at her words! It brought yet another laugh from the Eternian, pyrohue eyes softening slightly. There was no concern for the woman's unease; she didn't truly care about the well-being of the creature beside her at all. Her amusement stemmed purely from the shock. The lost Eternian expressed the new caves being different. Without delusion. Tlantli only smiled.

"Eef you live wit'out the Sun for too long, aye think the darkness will drive anyone to delusions." It wasn't praise to her fiery Helios, but rather a personal opinion that stemmed from internal observations. Something in Eterne was wrong. It always came with religion. Practitioners lived in the caves (or the pure ones, at least). Darkness created insanity, where the sunlight banished such things. Even the most complete psyche could be destroyed by the shadows if exposed for too long.



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#7
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Word Count › 327

a dog among kings with no self control

Eris tried not to remember Eterne too often -- the place was farther away than she could stand to think, and it no longer mattered to her. Well, it hadn't, anyway, until Axi had showed up, along with this new face. Now, it would seem that Eterne would not be so easily forgotten, and the sable-shaded hybrid had worry in her heart that this canine was one of their devout followers, maybe even sent up here after her. Now, she did not think it was so -- there was too much easiness from the tawny canine, too much friendliness. Though the dark-shaded woman hadn't relaxed completely, she did not seem quite so jumpy now. Her chartreuse eyes were focused on her packmate still, however, and there was still some faint wariness within her.


“Agreed,” she said flatly, and then turned her face toward the other canine pointedly, swallowing whatever hesitation was within her. “But how do you really feel about the Atototzli?” she asked softly, the uncertainty removing whatever caustic quality her sarcasm might have had. The word was strange and foreign on her tongue, having remained in her belly for many months now without passing over her tongue and teeth. Still, the pronunciation was correct, practiced tongue rolling over the strange language she did not truly speak. Nomenclature hardly provided any means for proficiency in a language, especially one as dead as Nahuatl seemed to be.


There was a crooked smile across the woman's face, and her yellow-green eyes dancing with clearer nervousness now. There was doubt within her, horrible doubt that she had said the wrong thing -- there was little chance this was another disillusioned follower with her same story -- it was more likely Eris had misinterpreted what the woman said, drawing her own meaning from the tawny coyote's words. She was on tenterhooks waiting for the stranger's response, unsure as to whether she'd just made a grievous mistake or a new friend.

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#8
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Flat agreement on the part of the sable hybrid caused Tlantli to raise one eyebrow upwards. Apathy returned with a new question. The woman was uncertain. Something caused anxiety and unease. Tlantli's home, it seemed, had not treated her well. It would have been expected. This dark female was not a coyote. The golden creature of the Sun turned her gaze away to the hills and mountains behind them. Never before had she been asked a true opinion of the elite within Eterne. Atototztli. Both the faith and those pure ones who practiced. Had Baphomet had his way, all three of his precious younger siblings would be cast amongst the upper crust, held back only by their mother's faint traces of lupus genetics.

Tlantli didn't return fiery eyes to the coal fur of her companion. Remaining silent for moments still, she tried to find the right answer. And then it came forth, wrapped amongst her butchered words of the English language. "Aye feel not'ing about Atototztli." The word sounded better rolling off her tongue than it did that of the Anatheman. Tlantli was more experienced with the syllables, the strange use of vowels and consanants.

Her words could be confusing, but they were true. Atototztli in any shape held nothing to the pale creature from Mexico. "We take leetle frahm them. Maye brothers, they take not'ing at all. Atototztli ahre not ow-where people. Metetztli, he raise us defferent." She couldn't say more, as it moved into Baphomet. Fear incarnate was her religious brother, who stole away one sister and failed to take a second. Eyes narrowed. "Que el sol les quema todo."



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#9
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Word Count › 357

a dog among kings with no self control

There were a few moments of quiet in which Eris's disquiet continued, on tenterhooks as the other canine seemed to be considering her response, or thinking of a way to quietly slit Eris's throat. This uncomfortable moment passed, and the flaxen coyote answered honestly, which was not something the sable-shaded hybrid had expected. Her green-yellow eyes did not move away from the other canine as she continued to speak, mentioning a name that caused Eris to straighten. She knew that name, though she did not know the particular significance it held to her -- these memories were locked away in some inaccessible part of her head, shoved there and chained down so as to keep the rest of her mind from growing black and infected with.


The familiar words came, in Spanish -- Eris did not understand them, but she knew enough to recognize their origin. She furrowed a brow quizzically at them, shaking her head slightly to show she did not understand. “They're wrong about a lot, but not everything,” she admitted, less cautious than she had been. “Their book -- most of it's a lie, I think, but there's some real center in all of it. They aren't that blind or stupid. I think the Tezcatlipoca have it more right than the Atototzli, though,” she admitted, somewhat proudly. That she considered herself something of a shaman, at least in Eternian terms, had nothing at all to do with this belief, of course.


“Metetzli is your father?” the hybrid asked, her voice rather strange, near weary. In some other life, this could have been her cousin, then. She was still quiet on her own connection to the Kimaris, finding it strange and sour that fate or God or the gods or simple coincidence would taunt her so. It would be an added kick that Metetzli had overcome his infertility. Of course, in Eris's mind, Mantus was still alive, and he'd never acquired another woman to carry his children -- she did not recall her own presence for any of this and just how close she had been to the tawny coyote and her siblings once upon a time.

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#10
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I just assumed she never actually MET Astaroth, but would have heard of him, what with him being the special Kimaris son who had working sperm. 300+

Was the hybrid right? Tlantli never entertained beliefs of personal ability as a shaman, and so she hadn't thought upon the Tezcatlipoca any more than she needed to. She couldn't agree to the full cycle of words, only to the last half. The Atototztli didn't have it right. "Aye haftn't read the book. As aye say, we take leetle." In truth, she hadn't been curious enough to seek out a chance with the holy item. Something in the blood kept her away from Baphomet's seemingly odd obsession. Though she couldn't remember the argument, Mantus had only concerned himself with the boys and ehecatl. Her own knowledge of the faith had gone without orders from her biological sire, and Metetztli had abolished her desire to believe.

The question that came surprised Tlantli; the dark woman knew of her stand-in father, and therefor must have known her family. She cleared her throat, rubbing at vaguely protruding clavicles. It wasn't her place to feel embarrassed for the man who raised her, not like she did for the half-brother no one wanted. Only Astaroth, whom she knew by tales alone, had managed to father in a new generation of children. "No. Metetztli raysed us frahm very young, leetle ninos. Mantus dyed." Metetztli had been the perfect provider without the older coyote. She loved him more than she thought about the dead Kimaris progenitor. But no, Metetztli wasn't capable of being a true father to anything.

Ruddy eyes narrowed and petite face turned so slightly toward the woman. "You know Eterne, ahnd ahf maye family. Who ahre you." It was a question and a demand wrapped in one solid bolt. She hadn't known the coal slave who masqueraded as a princess amongst her people. Tlantli and her siblings had been too young to witness the fall of the Kimaris family, all because Astaroth brought tainted wolf blood back to Eterne in the form of a beautiful woman.



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#11
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Word Count → 346


How much was safe to share? The coal hybrid wondered this faintly, her chartreuse eyes focused on the other canine. They seemed to be on simpatico terms where the Atototzli was concerned, but Eris held no love for the Kimaris within herself anymore. She could not remember the last months spent there, true enough; it was very much as if those weeks had been scrubbed neatly from her head, wiped over with some impossibly strong eraser. Still, she could remember her downfall, how angry they'd been, how unfair it was for them to hold against her a lie she had been told. It wasn't as if she'd simply labeled herself Astaroth's daughter; he had been the one to tell her this.


“Eris Eternity. Maybe Eris Kimaris, in another life, but not anymore,” she answered slowly, that nervousness rising in her once again. She hadn't relinquished her Lykoi surname within Eterne, but she hadn't introduced herself as such, either. She'd just been Eris back then. “For a long time, I thought Astaroth was my father. Isn't true,” she added, clarifying her cryptic speech. “I didn't know Mantus was gone. Sorry,” she said, thinking it was the appropriate thing to say. Mantus had been the one to take her in, true enough, but he had also been the one to cast her out. Mantus giveth, Mantus taketh away -- and now he, too, was gone.


“I lived in Eterne with your family for a long time. Must have just missed you,” she said, tilting her head to the side. She thought she would have remembered a pregnancy; such a thing would have been announced with no small amount of fanfare within the Kimaris household. There was no overt anger in Eris for what had happened to her in Eterne; she could not recall the worst of it, and though she thought it incredibly unfair she would be cast out for something not even her own fault, she wasn't the sort to hold a grudge, most certainly not against a canine who had nothing to do with Eris's past.

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#12
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300+

The truth came out in slow voice, with nervous tones clinging to each new syllable that passed sable jaws. Tlantli only listened. She wanted to hear the story, before she offered commentary. It was interesting. This Eris had once been a Kimaris, though it was a lie spread by her deceased brother. Astaroth was the pride of the Kimaris line. Or he had been; it was Astaroth alone who had undergone successful ehecatl, for her beloved Metetztli was incapable of fathering his own brats and Deiriel kept her own child hidden in the shadows. As the coyote studied her dark pseudo-niece, she could see no hint that the woman was related to Astaroth. It seemed ignorance reared its ugly head within Eterne, to assume she held worth within it.

A dark laugh escaped the golden creature as Eris apologized for Mantus. Tlantli had been young. What she did remember of the man who helped in her creation was chiefly physical. She shook her head. "Do not apologize. Mi padre es Metetztli. Aye would not wish for ahnoder, ahnd eet would not be fahr to him if aye did." Without her and her siblings, Metetztli would never have had children.

She leaned backward in order to rest her weight against the palms of her hands. "Astaroth could never be your fat'er." It wasn't meant in offense. The woman beside her held beauty unknown to the Kimaris family, unique and exotic and dark. Astaroth couldn't have offered something like that to her, no matter how magnificent he was. Another shake of her head punctuated the statement. "We ahre better wit'out them both, aye think. Mantus ahnd Astaroth. Eet gives Citlali his own place, wit'out being shadowed by his cousins." She mentioned her son, or nephew or cousin depending on the way her life was looked at, casually.

Her eyes closed as she tried to piece together a timeline. She lived with them, but before the children were born. When had she left? Why hadn't the children seen her before? Curious, Tlantli was eager to press for more information. "Why did you leave? You wehre ae Kimaris; why did this change, Ayeris?" No one had mentioned a dark female to her in the past. Nahualli hadn't mentioned much at all, but certainly Metetztli would have said something if it were important.



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#13
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Word Count → 669 Derping about Dieriel. >___> Not sure if right. :\ Also i lahv the way she says name <3


The coal-hued woman might not have understood the flaxen canine's concept of family not too long ago -- in her former perspective, blood was the best tie linking a family together. While she didn't fully subscribe to the notion that she was family with every canine within Anathema, she was turning toward it, slowly -- her own family was cobbled together from distantly related pieces, creating something of a nuclear group. Eris wasn't one to trust easily, and while she trusted no harm would come to her in Anathema, it didn't meant she would share her deeper secrets with a virtual stranger simply because they were among the same pack. That didn't seem to be an expectation, however, and her initial fears regarding the practice were quickly alleviated. She nodded her head slowly to show she understood.


“I understand,” she said, rather simply. She'd been cast out for something outside her her control, and while maybe some deeper part of her understood, the larger part of her would not release the scorn in being cast out of their midst. Metetztli had been good to her, and so had Baphomet -- while she liked the former more than the latter, Baphomet had taught her about the religion. Whatever she'd had to abandon from it, she appreciated what she had been able to absorb. Once upon a time, Eris might have been offended, but now she did not care. Now, she rather agreed, and nodded again, sighing softly.


“No. I know that now. Look at my kids -- can't even tell they're part coyote, I don't think.” The agreement was spoken flatly, though there was that faint undertone of hurt lurking there. She had thought she had found a place in the world, and much of it had turned out to be utter balderdash. “I think maybe they knew, but they didn't care, or they were so desperate they fooled themselves. Mecatl, you know?” she said, shaking her head with a faint smile. So desperate to continue themselves they would accept falsehood in lieu of extinction -- it made sense to her, anyway. She did not know why she had been accepted in Eterne so long; those outside of her family had often whispered of her impossible heritage and her too-wolfish appearance. It was only the defense of her own family that seemed to keep them at bay, though in the end they'd finally accepted it as truth.


“Dieriel?” she asked, her coal-shaded ears perking inquisitively at the mention of this new name. Metetzli was infertile, as far as Eris could tell, and Baphomet would not engage in continuation of the line. Dieriel was the only other possibility, or so she thought. Her false aunt, her favorite -- the sable-shaded woman remembered her soft-spoken demeanor fondly, though the coal-hued woman never understood why she had allowed herself to become subordinate to her brothers. Quiet and submissive as she'd ended up, there was a glittering and razor-sharp intelligence lurking beneath the surface, carefully concealed, it seemed.


“I told -- someone, I don't remember -- my mother's heritage, and they figured she wasn't wolf enough to have a kid looking like me with Asta. Don't suppose you get to looking like this with a coyote and a half-coyote, anyway.” The coyote smiled again at this, that faintly bitter smile that held little happiness but instead seemed forced upon her face, as if turning the great tragedy of her life to comedy would make it any better. And it was Eris's great tragedy -- or one of them, anyway. Everything that had ever happened was, blown to gross disproportion by the coal-hued woman.


“Next thing I know, Dieriel is sending me off, telling me not to come back,” the hybrid said, her ears twitching at this. Something didn't seem right -- it seemed plausible enough, but there was something wrong with the memories there. It had been summer when she discussed Kaena's heritage, and what passed for winter in Eterne when she had departed.

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#14
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They seemed to share similar thoughts of the world, and it caused Tlantli to crave the knowledge of her home before her birth. When was this woman living with her family? Though it was clear now that Eris was not her kin now, back then it would have been different. What sort of ordeal had caused Eris to be removed from their home? Females rarely left. They couldn't perform ehecatl — a fact she found distasteful — and there was no purpose for them to leave. As Eris said herself. Mecatl. Family, heritage, was ever so important to the coyotes of Eterne.

The dark woman said the name of Tlantli's sister-aunt, but the golden female gave no response. Citlali was now her son, but had indeed started as the spawn of quiet Dieriel. Dieriel had never been close to her sister-niece, and instead spent much of her time tending to the workings of the household rather than her brother's adoptive children. It had always been her way, intelligent as she was. Metetztli ruled their home. Baphoment made his place. Dieriel was so easily forgotten.

Golden ears focused on the sable-shaded female as she explained her story. Her fall from Kimaris grace had been so easy, so simple. Just a story that some smart Eternian deciphered to mean more than it might have anywhere else. No, a coyote and a half-coyote would never give something as magnificent as Eris. Tlantli laughed and patted her own chest with an open palm. "You get somet'ing liek me, no? You ahre much differen', Ayeris." It wasn't an unpleasant difference. While Tlantli would never feel wolves as superiors, she did see a beauty that few others from her home would consider.

It seemed Dieriel played an important part in Eris' leaving of the Mexican colony. Tlantli tilted her head; was it really so simple? "Aye was not close to Dieriel. She was not maye paren', no liek Metetztli." Again, she left out Baphomet. Filth in the blood of her family was nothing to be proud of, even if he was devout to their faith.



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#15
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Word Count › 329

a dog among kings with no self control

There was a smile from the hybrid, and she nodded in agreement -- Tlantli's appearance would have been much more fitting for a child of Astaroth and Kaena, though she doubted there would be such brilliant colors as those exhibited in the woman's coat. Most of Kaena's children were varying shades of tawny or goldish, true enough, but in most cases, these coats were marred with streaks of black or gray in places. Few were colored quite so brilliantly as Tlantli, either. Then again, the coat colors and patterns in general seemed more brilliant and bright the further south one went -- Eris herself had stuck out like an incredibly sore thumb.


Hadn't it been summer when she had first discussed Kaena's heritage? She seemed stuck on this fact for a moment, attempting to reconcile it with the time she had departed. The hybrid had little real sense of time throughout much of this; she only knew she had arrived in Inferni roughly a year ago, give or take a little bit of time. Before that, things were vague and fuzzy. Her ears twitched at the sound of Tlanti's voice, and she looked at her, relieved to be distracted from her thoughts. “And Baphomet?” she questioned, cautiously. There had been no mention of her other uncle -- while Eris had never been particularly fond of his austere, often-cryptic nature, he had educated her in the ways of the religion, and she begrudgingly accepted his influence.


In the back of the hybrid's mind, there seemed to be a faint cry, some distant vociferation of anguish. There was clear dissonance in her memories -- it had been summer when she'd spoken of Kaena's heritage, and it had been winter when she'd departed from Eterne, dazed and utterly bewildered as to how she'd ended up even outside of the city's center. She ignored it, focusing instead on present company and conversation. There was something monumental lurking just behind that tiny, yelping cry.


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#16
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Angry Tla?

Her golden coat was the defining factor of Tlantli Kimaris, showing her as an individual amongst her family. She was the only one, out of the four, who wore the vaguely metallic coat. She was golden. She was sunlight. In the world, in their family, she was proud to be Tlantli. Xochime had been small, and weak, and her younger sister could do what the now-slave could not. She was determined. Not for Eterne, however. For Metetztli. Tlantli would be a pinnacle of Kimaris pride for the man who had raised them after the death of their birth father. The rest didn't have what it took.

As she spoke freely of her home to this dark-colored woman, she started to wonder about those left behind. What was Metetztli doing at that moment? Was Dieriel thinking of her son? without sadness, she wondered if Baphomet had been found a heretic or a man who overstepped his reach. Maybe he would be a sacrifice. She wouldn't mourn his loss, just as she never spoke of him unless asked. It seemed one of those times was about to come. Eris' sable mouth formed the name, and the golden Kimaris grimaced in return. Baphomet.

"Baphomet is not'ing. He lets himsalf be osracised. He ruins parfikly good family, ahn for what? For Atotoztli? No. Someday, Baphomet will suffer his sins. Aye do not think he will outrun them long." Her words were bitter. She remembered, though it was long before, when Baphomet whisked Xochime away. He had tried to do the same for Tlantli, but he didn't realize his mistakes in judgement. The family wouldn't allow it, and neither would she. "Even if aye haft to show him mayeself. He'll suffer." A slim hand clenched around a small rock before her arm cast it into the darkness.



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#17
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Word Count » 301 I have a stupid post for you. Sad Wrap soon? Your post mebbe? We has more interesting things to thread over now. ;D

my road to hell is surely paved

Eris was surprised by the sharpness in Tlanti's voice, and she listened in confusion. Hadn't Baphomet always acted in the interest of his family? She tried to remember, a look of concentration coming across her face as her brows furrowed and her ears dipped to half-mast position. No -- he had been concerned, first and foremost, with the Atototzli, as Tlantli stated. He hadn't mistreated Eris, but she hadn't ever enjoyed his company -- she found his presence to be stifling and overbearing, even if he was not speaking. Proximity to him seemed to induce nervousness in the sable-shaded woman, and she realized she was glad to be rid of him and that sect of the Kimaris family.


She offered Tlantli a weak smile, her ears remaining half-cocked, though now it was a position of sympathy. “I don't know what sins he's committed, but I wasn't too fond of him,” she offered, rolling a shoulder in indifference. He had committed no offense to her personally, though the Kimaris family as a whole set her on edge, perhaps due to their connection with Eterne, a place she could dislike and fear now that she had been ejected from their midst. Tlantli seemed to be the exception to this rule -- the woman did not adhere strictly to the religion, and she did not seem too much like Baphomet -- perhaps by intent or design.


“None of them would have me there,” she added assertively, knowing this to be the truth. She would be killed or enslaved if she wandered too close to Eterne again -- not that she ever planned on making her way back to that part of the world. That part of her life was over, and this place was more like home now than Eterne had ever truly been.

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#18
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Her irritation faded with the slowness of a tortoises' movement, but she did not continue the continued hateful gaze. It wasn't the fault of the woman beside her, no. She didn't deserve the anger from this golden woman who hailed from a shared home. Baphomet was in the past. With any luck, she would never again have to deal with him. If she ever returned to Eterne, she would be glad to hear him dead. If Momoztli had any sway on the world, he would be. But this dark woman had no reason to know of the Kimaris girl's hatred for the brother-uncle who was so warped by the Atototztli. Tlantli didn't want her to know.

Eris gave a smile and the expression of sympathy, but the younger woman simply gazed ahead. There was no reason for sympathy. Sympathy was for those who suffered, and she did not suffer. She was free, ranked above the waste Baphomet by her gender alone. Other factors only increased the space. Where he relied on his religion, she relied on herself. She was capable, she was strong, she was intelligent. A serpent with a vicious bite, far from the Atototztli while remaining close all in the same moment. Tlantli's golden shoulders shrugged up against her neck as she listened to Eris' words. "He hast severed his own ties. Aye will not be sorry when he dies." It sounded so wrong, but she knew that she wouldn't.

She wasn't surprised to hear the sable-shaded female's declaration of her place, for her fired eyes knew it to be true. Eris had lived in Eterne, but she would not go back without punishment or slavery. They were not the sort to forgive or embrace those from the outside. Tlantli gave a nod in agreement. "No. You would not be. Aye wonder sometimes, if they will allow me back mayesalf." Silly to assume such a thing, but she did occasionally dwell on it. She was a hybrid of the scantest sort, born to the Kimaris family and raised by a sterile half-brother who had tried to save them from the outrageous minds of the devout. Perhaps she was as far from Eternian as Eris was now, lost to the world of wolves where others might have said she belonged. A sigh escaped her. "Aye haft to go back to maye home. Citlali is waiting." Her body rose gracelessly and turned away. There was nothing left she desired to speak of. It was too difficult.



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.tk-abandon u {font-style:italic;text-decoration:none;font-variantConfusedmall-caps;border-bottom:1px dotted;letter-spacing:1px;}
</style>[/html]


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