Springs sweet kiss

Funerals

POSTED: Fri Apr 28, 2017 6:45 am

Sickness had revenged Anathema and while many were starting to see mm better Eva still worried. She stood just outside Helios taking in the smell that surrounded her. Death... had taken over here once again. Ash and Briston had worked hard to aid her with setting the pyres. To many were needed this time. Swirled eyes looked to the forest line as she pulled herself together.

Dark hands clutched her bag of herbs as she willed herself to move forward. Seven pyres stood in her forest six adults had lost the fight and one small child. She approached the bodies that seated atop. Greed and lusts daughter, Yindi, Ocke, Mortifera, Gideon, Charm, and Aeron. Eva stopped and placed her hand on her grandmothers pyre. They had just found each other why? She and the others only had such a short time with her.

Ash touched her shoulder as he tried to smile. "It's hard but you have much work to do." He spoke handing her a small dish. Evangeline nodded as she took the dish. She set herself to her task of placing herbs amount them. The herbs power would protect their souls, and allow those still alive to be at peace

Evangeline struggled as she began her work. Dark hands shook as she delicately placed herds on the small child. "Do not cry child she is safe." Evangeline stopped as she spun around looking for Innya or Malefica but neither were here. "Cry not for the dead, Evangeline you believe in the spirit." Evangeline's ears flicked trying to find who it was but the girl couldn't find anyone. "Finish your work child we will talk later." Eva huffed as she tried to find the sounds direction. She found nothing no one was she going crazy?

She shook her head and continued her work as hours passed by before Ash and Briston howled. Her song joined theirs summoning all the pack to the forest.
Will you walk into my parlor? Tis the prettiest little parlor that you ever did spy.
Casa di Cavalieri
Second Cadet (NPC)
User avatar
Marie
Luperci Bound by blood, never alone.

POSTED: Mon May 01, 2017 9:00 am

The will to conquer
Is the first condition of victory

OOC: +300 words.

The sickness holding over Conquest was slowly but surely fading, so it was still lingering around. She might have survived, but there were others that went so lucky, her grandmother being one of them. Aeron was a strong woman, but she and her sister, Evangeline, had found her as well as her mate in her home, already gone from this world. Both of them had been froze in their places, wanting so much to believe that they were not really dead, but the fact still remained. It was one of the rare moments when anyone in the pack saw any sign of weakness in the one who followed so strictly by the name that was given to her at birth. Now it was only fitting that she be present for her grandmother's funeral.

Not only that, but there was someone else worth coming here for. Word had gotten around about the pups her older sibling Lust had given birth to, one of them being from their brother, Greed. Of all five pups she had.. of course this was the one that had to lose its life. She wondered how her brother was taking it, or if either up the parents would turn up to see their child sent off to her final resting place. Her younger aunt was certain to do so. Family was meant to be treated with respect, just as was her pack. Anyone else she destroyed in battle was not deserving of such a fate as these.

The dark woman watched her sister as she worked, having shown up with her when she began her work. This was something meant to be taken care of by her, and by that she meant the preparations. Conquest would have had no idea what to do if she were helping, so it was best to just stay out of it for now. Once the call had gone out for the rest to come and join, she stepped forward, offering a hand of comfort along her sister as her orange gaze turned out to the area before them, waiting to see who else would come to honor these passed away souls.

POSTED: Fri May 05, 2017 9:19 pm

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Discordant emerged from the ruins of a small house into the early morning light of a new day. He had been sick for several days upon joining this pack. Despite having been healthy before joining the pack, there seemed to be something in the land that brought the sickness down upon the heads of the pack members. Perhaps the sickness came from the prey or a river that ran through the pack lands, it was hard to tell.

The sickness had struck within a day of his first joining the pack, and had lasted a good week and a half before he felt well enough to do much more than drag himself to and from the dirtplace he'd made behind the ruins that served as his den. He had been lucky enough to have eaten an elderly doe a day before he had reached Anathema's boundaries, as well as the hare he'd caught just outside the boundaries the day he'd joined.

Though, looking back, it may have been that hare, escaped from the Anatheman lands, that had carried the foul disease unto himself. He hadn't eaten anything in over a week, and his fur hung from his thinned pelt like leaves hung from a willow -drooping and sad. He shook himself, causing a slough of fur to escape from his pelt, falling to the ground in swirls.

Discordant's lip curled in disgust as his breath heaved heavily from his chest, a ragged rattle escaping his inflamed lungs. He breathed in suddenly, a whoosh of air escaping him as his body was wracked with several great, wracking coughs. He would live, but it would be a close call.

A call that not all would escape from, as Discordant would soon learn. Word traveled quickly through the pack, and the final death count came later that afternoon, rising to a total of eight dead wolves, one being that of a child. Discordant had snarled at the news, a great paw coming down against the hardened earth with claws unsheathed.

Pups were the next generation, the new life, and the strength of the pack. It was a blow to lose one, to something so little as sickness. It made Discordant furious at the world, more than usual. It just went to show how no god cared for their fates, if even gods were to exist, which Discordant had his doubts. He wondered if Charletter knew where he could procure some alcohol.

His father had shown him the wonders of alcohol as a pup, though he'd been warned against too much of the substance lest he accidentally kill himself with an overdose of the wondrous substance. His old pack had taken over the residence of an old human factory which had developed alcohol, with great casks of the stuff still stewing in the basement of the place. Of course with age, plenty of the batches had gone off or been turned to waste, but several casks had turned out nicely despite the lack of human touch.

He wondered if there was a similar distillery nearby, or if any Lupreci were smart enough to learn to make it themselves, as his old pack had eventually learnt to do, though the Lupreci-made alcohol had never been as great as the stuff the humans had made. Which was why it was so well-guarded by his previous pack.

He'd have to ask Charletter, later. For now, it was time for the funerals of the fallen wolves. Discordant didn't want to go, but he was sure he'd be looked down upon if he didn't at least give an attempt at presenting a grieving face. Even though said grieving process was a very private thing, at least to the Mackenzie Valley wolf. But he'd show, if only to make a show of his grief before retreating for a more private, quieter solace.

He'd said he'd hate it, and he did. The wolves milling around all looked like.... well, like someone had died and it was all too much... emotion for the normally reserved wolf. Eight pyres had been set alight, and smoke threaded through the area, coating the still-recovering wolf's lungs in ash. He stepped away from the sight of the pyres against the darkened sky, suppressing great, wracking coughs. Forget this! He could grieve in his own way.

He let out a low growl, and left the scene, unable to stay put any longer. He would find alcohol or something to smoke -something, anything, to get away from the choking ash and grief that lay on his heart like a stone dragging him underwater. He stumbled, still coughing as his eyes fell closed, his great body giving out on him in the middle of the village. He'd lay like this until someone found pity on him or until he gathered up enough strength to stumble back to his den amongst the ruins.

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Addressed: N/A
Mentioned: N/A
Mood: Foul, grieving, wishing for alcohol
Word Count: 814
Notes: Enjoy a grieving Discordant
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"Speech" - 'Thoughts' - "Other's Speech"
ß
Table Example by Phynix
Created by SilverPhantom

User avatar
SilverPhantom
Luperci

POSTED: Mon May 08, 2017 11:00 pm

Seven. Seven lives that had been lost. Seven souls he had failed. Seven voices that would never be heard again.

Lelouch's hand curled into tight balls. His fists trembled and he pushed them into his pounding forehead. It was the sickness. It was the stress. The combination of inconsolable anxiety, long days, and sleepless nights. Guilt pulled at his stomach and turned everything he ate stale. He couldn't even bring himself to eat that morning. Even getting out of bed was hard.

Lelouch was curled up in the middle of the furs. His small lupus body was practically invisible in the pile. Lelouch's ears flicked as the sound of footsteps entered the room. He didn't look up. He didn't even acknowledge Bertolt. After a solid minute of silence, the sound of cracking bone broke the void. Several minutes later, and Bertolt's face came into view. He gently licked Lelouch's forehead. Lelouch whimpered. Bertolt shuffled closer, wrapping his smaller lupus form around Lelouch as best he could. Lelouch lifted his head so that it rested on his mate's belly. Bertolt lowered his so that it lay flush with Lelouch's side.

The two stayed like that for a long time. Minutes ticked into hours while they silently consoled one another. Lelouch couldn't help but wonder how much of the loss actually affected Bertolt, or if he was simply upset because Lelouch was. Although, Lelouch doubted that the loss of Greed's pup wouldn't effect Bertolt. The sunshine male was more feral than most. Pups belonged to the pack. If one was lost, they all felt it.

A howl called out to the pack. Both Lelouch and Bertolt raised their heads to listen. It was time. The two rose as one. They remained in their lupus form and made their way to the woods. Once they arrived, Lelouch could barely bring himself to look at the pyres. He and Bertolt chose a spot and sat back on their haunches. Lelouch's head bowed as he receded into his thoughts.
Avi by Raze

POSTED: Thu May 11, 2017 12:26 am

Avinalora
"The path to heaven runs through miles of clouded hell"
Optime | Day? | Sickness | Forest

OOC here
Word Count:
389

A figure stood at the edge of the clearing. She was tiny and skinny with fox-like features and long legs. She had long ears and short fur. She had silver fur that was white as snow. A darker grey saddle ran down her back, going from the back of her ears to her tail and ended in a white tip. Her black hair was pulled tightly away from her face and she wore a lot of clothing. A black leather jacket, jeans, and a grey and white raglan was worn. A bandage was wrapped around the left side of her face. She leaned on her cane.

Seven, seven people were dead. And it was her fault no matter what anyone said. She brought a stranger into Anathema. She didn't react to the sickness as quickly as she should. She didn't do her job well enough. She was a failure. She failed her pack, she failed these people.

The fox maiden knew that she should at least attend the funeral. She stood there at the edge, though. She couldn't bring herself to look at the people that were dead because of her. She didn't want the eyes of her pack-mates on her, she didn't want to see their disappointment. So, her head hung low.

The winter wraith couldn't stop a small cough. It shook her weak body and then a massive beast came from behind. He was massive, easily as tall as the female despite being in Secui form. He had thick grey fur and a shaggy mane. He was a wolf, but was almost a bear, though bigger. Scars slashed across his frame.

"Are you okay?" Stormblade asked with a hint of uncertainty. He knew that the ghostly jackals psyche was fragile at best. He knew that the sickness affected her badly, both physically and mentally. He didn't know how to help her, he was a bit sick himself judging by the crust around his eyes, but he was better now.

"I'm fine." The moon-washed maiden said, almost like a mantra. She couldn't stop a tear from falling down her face. She was spiraling, she knew that. She still kept her strong façade up, not wanting anyone to notice, even though she was close to sobbing. She had to be strong.

The monochrome fox stood there, silent yet broken.

Image | Background | Table by Andi





User avatar
Silverfrost
Luperci
Somebody make me feel alive
The queen of a wretched design
I walk through the fire

POSTED: Sat May 13, 2017 5:52 pm

ß

Discordant coughed, curling in on himself pathetically. It seemed like ages had passed before he had summoned the strength to move once more. You're being pathetic! he snarled to himself, forcing his feet beneath him and struggling to rise. He had never been so sick before, to have all of his prized strength bled right out of him! He huffed, managing to stand, but his feet trembled beneath him.

Pathetic! he found himself berating again. Seven dead and you're acting like you're going to be an eighth! Get up and MOVE! Baring his teeth in defiance of his own body's failings, Discordant took a few steps, regaining his balance as he did so.

He looked around him, embarrassed of his weak performance. But there was no one around to witness his failings, for which the dark warrior was grateful. He sneezed suddenly, sending his front legs sliding out from beneath him. He cursed, stumbling back onto his feet. He had to get help, but asking for help wasn't in the dark warrior's nature. He'd rather eat shit, if he were to be honest.

But yet, the warrior seemed to be on his last legs, and such weakness might bring about a weakness of the mind as well. A weakness to welcome help, were it offered. But he would not seek out someone, consequences be damned! Discordant swayed on his feet, and took a few more stumbling footsteps toward his abode before sinking to his knees again. The Lupus wolf looked pathetic, laying there with his heaving breaths wracking his lanky frame. His fur was shaggy and hung loosely from his frame, evident of some days without food.

He could remember throwing up much of what food he had eaten before the sickness struck him. Pathetic! the voice snarled at him again. He was no longer sure that it was his own voice he was hearing. Maybe he was hallucinating now! That'd be just great.

Maybe Charletter would be about? Discordant remembered the female offering aid at one point, but that was before he had been sick. He had no poise or confidence about him now, what would the female care if one more joined the pyre this day? Still, Discordant wasn't giving up yet, and he was closer to her house than his own den. He stumbled towards the porch he vaguely remembered her emerging from. Maybe she knew of some herbs that would help him gain his strength back?

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Addressed: N/A
Mentioned: Charletter Leishman
Mood: Weak, furious with himself
Word Count: 422
Notes: Discordant is in bad shape.
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"Speech" - 'Thoughts' - "Other's Speech"
ß
Table Example by Phynix
Created by SilverPhantom

User avatar
SilverPhantom
Luperci

POSTED: Thu Jun 01, 2017 10:29 am

24/21/4

The pack gathered around and the silence was over whelming. Evangeline took a deep breath as she stepped forward. Strength was what it took to lead and she needed to show those around her she was ready. No longer just the girl who was handed a rank. But a woman who had worked hard for her rank.

Ash and Briston stood infront of a few pyres ready to aid as they watched her. The whole pack watched her. "We gather today to say goodbye to those we held the closest to us. We pray for their safe journey to the next life." She shook as she picked up a torch.

She looked to Conquest and held the torch out to her. "You should do it." She spoke lightly. She picked up another torch and looked back at the crowd. "Beloved one, you are dead but you are not alone.
We are here with you,
the beloved dead await you.
You go from love
into love.
Carry with you
only love.
May our love carry you
and open the way. "

Evangeline turned to help light the pyres as she could hear her ears ringing. Dark ears pinned to her head as the fire started to take the sweet smell of herbs filled the air. She could hear Malefica in the back, and her own sobs she caught with to remain the rock Anathema needed right now.
Will you walk into my parlor? Tis the prettiest little parlor that you ever did spy.
Casa di Cavalieri
Second Cadet (NPC)
User avatar
Marie
Luperci Bound by blood, never alone.

POSTED: Wed Jun 07, 2017 11:21 pm

He couldn't even get out of bed on this day. He had two options that he could see. Stay here and sleep his sorrows away until the time came he had to tear himself away from this bed with Lust's comfort and to the ceremony, or simply disappear and not have to bare laying his eyes on his lost love. Unfortunately, even in dark times such as these he had some common sense and luckily on most occasions he pushed himself to listen to it. Today was one of those days and so here he lay in an oddly cold bed, without the warmth of his own pup at his side. He had Lust and the remaining pups, but he could only feel bitterness towards them. Still, he grieved with his sister over their lost and tried to be there for her sometimes, although hard.

The howl finally rang through the pack hitting him like a bullet to the chest. His stomach wrenched and chest tightened. He didn't want to go. He was nothing in the face of his sorrow. He couldn't be the person he had worked so hard to become. Still, Greed found the strength to get up and dress in fine garbs to witness his daughter be put to rest. He tamed his mane to perfection and mustered all the strength he had for a small temporary smile before he headed to the ceremony. It seemed like just yesterday he was doing the same thing for his half-sister's lost child and now, he was doing the same for his.

Once there, Greed made his way to the front so he could see. He didn't want to witness it, but he knew it could bring him some peace and he knew he would regret not being here for Elora on this day. The umber king found solace next to his family members, all who were there. Amber orbs took in every detail of the Evangeline's work. It was gorgeous enough to represent his daughter and all other's who perished. Greed had long lost the smile that he had only prepared for himself so he could look in the mirror and find some sense of confidence to come here. There was no need for it any longer. His eyes remained glued to the bodies that awaited the warm embrace of the flame Eva had handed to Conquest. Finally, Evangeline's voice broke the silence and began to recite the words that would help carry their love ones into the next life.

Greed couldn't keep himself from joining the rest of the pack in morning for the loss of his daughter and everyone else that was lost along with her. A nearly silent whine trailed from between his jaws as he watched his daughter begin her journey out of this cruel world and hopefully to somewhere where the sun never set. In this moment, Greed couldn't wait for the day the warmth of the flame would carry him to her side forever. He missed her more than he would miss the air he breathed.
The Order
The Quill
User avatar
Sami
Luperci Bound by blood, never alone.
We still believe

POSTED: Tue Jun 20, 2017 11:16 pm

The will to conquer
Is the first condition of victory

OOC: +200 words.

Slowly but surely, others began to fall in to the call of her sister's howl. There were only a few that decided to turn up, which really was a shame considering that their former leader was one of those that ended up passing away. Had none of them cared? Aeron was a strong leader, one far better fitting than her father. It seemed only right that everyone should be present to pay their respects, especially the new leaders, though none of them had shown from what she could see. That was even more shameful.

The dark woman's head turned to the side when Evangeline handed her one of the torches, claiming that she should be the one to do it. Inside of her, there was a feel of relief. Her golden grandmother had been special to her, even though she never really got the chance to express it. At least now, she would be able to help her sister send her off into the afterlife.

Orange gaze drifted over to the lifeless body of the former leader as well as the rest that laid at her side. Ears turned just slightly to the side to listen to Evangeline at her side. When it came time to finally light the pyres, she lowered the torch along with her sister, watching them as they burned. Thankfully with her back turned, she could allow herself to lower her rough outer shell. There was no need for anyone else to see her signs of weakness. Her head lowered, offering the torch back to her sister, just letting the silence take hold of her for the time being.

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