[P] [M] i've become something else
[WoD] | January 21

WARNING: This thread contains material exceeding the general board rating of PG-13. It may contain very strong language, drug usage, graphic violence, or graphic sexual content. Reader discretion is advised.

Specifically, this thread is marked mature because of: violent imagery, emaciation, etc.

and his seed that bleeds right through to me
and it comes to grab and take, and take, and take, and take

She ran and ran and ran until she couldn’t run anymore.

Rand was gone – [M]killed by her own hands, deader than dead and never coming back. Yet it did not feel this was so. The last sounds of breath in his throat haunted her, a death rattle that still shook in his broken ribs and punctured lungs and called out to her long after she had left his mangled corpse in the Bastion for the rest of the Realm to find.

The Page fled and did not look back, but she had heard their footsteps and the [M]anguished cry when one poor unfortunate soul stumbled upon the carnage after she had disappeared like a thief in the night.

It was pure luck that Nín was not discovered when she abandoned the only home she had ever known. With their patrols and guards scrambled, her escape went virtually undetected, just another casualty of a harrowing callback to a winter before her birth. Níndari felt deep guilt roiling in her gut when she realized she should have told someone what he had done – not just to her, but to the Realm at large. But what was done was done – and in her state of panic, fleeing the all-seeing eye of her father was paramount.

Even now, in this unfamiliar land, she could feel it watching her every move. One had been damaged beyond repair, nothing but organic matter and oozing liquid: but the other remained, glazed-over yet sharp, like a lasting image in the back of her vision when she closed her eyes.

Rand was gone, but Níndari still threw desperate glances over her shoulder as she ran, desperately afraid he might appear behind her at any moment, cheating death. She did not know the power of his Goddess, her own namesake, nor whether or not the Lady of the Water could bring Her servants back from the dead.

In her delirious state, this seemed entirely impossible and a constant threat. Starved and deathly thin, if the winter did not do her in, his vengeful spirit likely would.


For days, she wandered, traveling in the vague direction that the Caledonian caravan had taken almost a month prior. So much time had passed since then, and yet so little in the grand scheme; Níndari felt as though she had aged a thousand years and was still very much a child, ill-equipped to fully understand the ramifications of her own actions or how dangerously close to peril she truly was.

Covering more ground in lupus, she passed out in the snow only to wake up on two legs again. There were lapses in time she could not explain, new shades added to the oxidized brown that covered her ghostly pelt in irregular clumps. He clung to her still, though Nín had long since grown nose-blind to the remnants.

And still, she was alive, against all odds. But for how long, she could not be sure. She was unsure of many things but did not allow herself time to stop and let the reality of it sink in.

In her daze, the Coara found the carcass of a rabbit blanketed in white, eyes frosted over and unseeing. Barely touched and preserved by the cold, it was a boon for the famished girl – but when she tore into it without a second thought, it was not the taste of disease that one of clear-mind could have smelled straight away.

The sensation of meat touching her tongue immediately made her gag. Spitting it out, she was mortified and screamed when Rand’s eye was staring back at her from within the half-chewed flesh – a visage that disappeared once she blinked and backed away.

Shaken, it was all Nín could do to her breath, and she did not stay. Blearily she wiped away the saliva and bile from her mouth before continuing on, deciding it best not to eat at all.


Keep going. You need to keep going.

All the trees looked the same, like she was going in circles. Níndari could no longer determine where she was or if she was even going the right way. There were vague familiarities, the silhouette of buildings just ahead. The town. The Market.

She held her side where his claws had pierced skin. It ached dully, like a fire had been put to the wound, and sickly-sweet pus was a sure sign of infection that the Page had no means to cure. Skin and bones, Nín was a spectre ambling through the deserted streets of Amherst, skeletal-thin and bird-like.

You’re almost there.

The gates. She could see the gates. The Garrison yawned before her like the mouth of a great beast, the sheer might of it bringing her to her knees.

You’re almost…

Níndari stumbled, barely able to prop herself upright on her hands as she looked up at the Garrison again. She could not go any further, her muscles screaming out in pain and fatigue.

When she opened her mouth, it was a pitiable sound, barely a whisper against the wind.

”... Angora...”

Her friend would not hear her. Not like that.

She licked her terribly dry lips again, rough tongue tearing open the cracking skin. Blood oozed and provided meager comfort through dull pain.

”A-Angora... Syrus...”

A whine escaped her. It was not loud enough. Níndari lifted her head higher and tried crying out with all her might, voice choking as the noose tightened around her neck.


Repeating her mantra over and over again until their names no longer sounded like words at all, still they did not come. Stinging tears clenched her eyes shut as the Caledonian sunk further into the ground.

”Somebody, please...”

Shadows shrouded the edges of her vision as she collapsed into the snow.

Even as she lost consciousness, in the darkness, like a tiny, flickering flame –

Rand’s fiery gaze lingered.

>:) syrus first, then o'riley! let me know if anything needs to be changed! ♥️
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It was a crisp winter morning. The colour of the sky ranged from ivory to cerulean, and each shade between was cloudless and brisk, layered against the frozen pressure of the atmosphere.

Syrus kept himself warm by making quick progress North, heading towards Amherst, practising maintaining his Secui form. He was becoming a sturdy wolf—his shoulders were expansive through months of relentless exercise and physical exertion, and his torso was finely cut.

Today, like many days preceding, his thoughts were on the Moon. He enjoyed these lengthy journeys, they gave him time to think, and he intended that this one would take him beyond the reaches of Amherst, further north than he had ever ventured before. For those moments at the Call to Court, she'd been the center of his world, and though their time together was fleeting, he had struggled to shake off his fascination for the girl. Her shimmering, enticing attire and contrasted personality still hung like an artistic, intricate, and slowly fading spectre in his mind.

He knew he'd have to forget about her at some point. Unless he planned to spend the rest of his life in another land, another pack, nothing substantial could ever exist between them. He'd have to let it go. 

This thought pattern continued: Would she even speak to him again? He may have served as a benevolent comfort amid all her despair and hopelessness on a fateful night, but he had to wonder if he was little more than a distraction in the moment. He wondered, in fact, if she'd even remember him if they ever crossed paths in the future.

The wind blew towards his face, pushing back the long fur genetically awarded by a bloodline forged in much colder territories than even these. His ears were lowered, and his whiskers were swept back by the constant pressure of the wind. Upon that consistent breeze, he thought he heard Níndari's voice carrying his name, but it was too quiet, barely a whisper, and he smiled to himself that the memory of such a sound still existed.

He stopped suddenly. This time there was no mistaking the sound for a whimsical contemplation. Her cries sailed downwind to reach him with utter clarity. 

He pushed himself into a sprint, his head down, tail horizontal. He bounded effortlessly at full pelt towards the Garrison with snow thrown up in the air with every push of his hind paws, like a rooster tail in his wake.

"Open the gates!" 

He yelled, not even breaking stride and passing through the narrow chink as the gates began to open.

"Níndari?!" He called, his eyes scanning the land before him. In all the white it took him a long time to find her,her fur being of a similar colouration, and not expecting her to be laying face down in it, he caught the last whispered call for help.

" Somebody, please..."

"I'm here!" He said, shifting direction towards the sound, and eventually seeing the indentation in the snow. He rushed to her, thrusting his head into the snow beneath her chest and using the muscles in his neck to flip her onto her back.

He was stunned into silence for a moment. The girl that lay before him barely resembled the decorated and luscious satellite that had been so radiant in her moments of celebrity. This girl was skinny, dirty, and barely conscious.

"Are you okay?" She wasn't. He didn't even wait for an answer before he began to howl at the top of his lungs. His first thought was going to one wolf he knew needed help.

"O'Riley!!!!! Help!" He began to shift then, figuring he could be more useful in his two-legged form if only to pluck her from the icy snow more efficiently. 

He howled again, a long, haunting cry filled with a crack of desperation.


OOC: So sorry for the wait, couldn't avoid it, but should be good from now.

At the docks, the three men stood around a campfire as it valiantly fought against the salty wind. Two of them were engaged in a fierce debate, full of loud voices and gesturing hands. The father and son had gotten into yet another argument over the best ways to prepare the meat their cousin had brought to them. This happened nearly every time O'Riley brought his catches, and while it had been amusing at first, he was growing irritated by the never-ending ranting. It was helpful, at least, when it came to him learning the language. His Russian was still not where he wanted it to be, and immersing himself around native speakers was the best way to improve upon it.

Still, he would have preferred to do this with food in his belly rather than waiting for Bogdan and Igor to decide what they would do with the provisions.

A howl rose from near the Garrison. It's urgency brought the debate to a standstill.

“<Do you want me to come with you?>” Igor asked.

“<No, stay here. If I call you then you come,>” O'Riley replied.

He left them behind and jogged down the road that cut through Amherst. By the time he had reached the Garrison, Duncan had descended to meet him.

“What is it?”

“I don't know – someone was yelling, and Syrus ran through. He's been out there for a while.”

With a frown, O'Riley left the guard behind and headed out into the ruins beyond. Even with the wind blowing, the snow made it easy enough to follow the tracks Syrus had left behind. He had big paws, and his weight and speed had left deep marks. By the time O'Riley was able to smell him, he could hear him too.

The sight he discovered surprised him. There was Syrus, cradling a silver-haired girl in his arms. She didn't look as if she was moving.

“What's happened?” He demanded, closing the distance between them and moving to block the wind. “Who is this?”

When indicated, characters are speaking Russian.
[+ 3]
Ordinary morality is only for ordinary people.
Character Wiki  | [Image: 88x31_v1.png] | Player Wiki
and his seed that bleeds right through to me
and it comes to grab and take, and take, and take, and take

For a long time, there was silence. Unable to see beyond a span of endless white, she could only hear the muffled sound of her own erratic heartbeat in her ears. It was cold, but the chilling grip of winter was beginning to lose its bite.

Could it really end like this? This – so close to a place she could only pray was her sanctuary – wasting away just short of their gates? A life full of promise, feigning greatness, snuffed out so terribly soon. Hidden deep within the muck and mire of Her Twilight Sanctum, the Lady must have been laughing at her, taking pleasure in her namesake's misfortune. She had never saved Níndari before; what reason was there to start now?

Níndari exhaled, long and deep, and it was several seconds before she managed to rattle in another breath. It hurt to breathe and grew more difficult with each attempt.

In the end, it was the hungry eye that roused her awake again, but it was not what held her in this semi-conscious state.

There was a sound: a voice, though in her delirium she did not recognize it. At first, it was far away, like a distant call, but all at once it was right in her ear as she was violently tossed onto her back, limp like a rag doll.

The distressed bellow broke out soon after, a frantic cry for anyone and everyone who would hear him. She blinked, still unseeing, and seethed in another breath, shallower now.

She knew the scent, memories of the faraway Court enshrouded in ice. The stars – Nín remembered looking at the stars.

A whine shook her withering frame as he held her close. He felt flushed and hot, like a roaring flame, but she hadn't the strength to shrink away when he threatened to burn her with his searing warmth.

"S-Syrus," she at last managed, his name choked out in a dry sob.

So he had heard her after all.

Her body was slack in his arms, her mind struggling to beat out the darkness that encroached with each labored breath. When her eyes closed, it felt like another millennia passed her by, tiny pinpricks of color bursting in her vision. But Syrus did not let up on his howling until another set of footsteps clomped through the snow to meet them.

By the time the other spoke, he was little more than a deafened hum in her ears, incomprehensible and low. Shivering horribly, Níndari could not move, much less speak; and it was not much longer before she drifted away once more, her senses flooded with white noise.

this is probably it from me lol -- but y'all can get going for as long as needed! ;D
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