I'm the weight, you're the kite

Bluegrass, morning

POSTED: Thu Jun 28, 2018 12:26 am

500+

OOC: Mystery is a boy in this thread (they're gender fluid)

IC:


Mystery gazed down at the flattened thing that spasmed dully in the grass. He knelt, put his scar-laced hands beneath it like a cradle and held it aloft. The orange, black-dotted paper-like structures flitted weakly beneath watery eyes. Mystery could almost feel the breeze upon his two-toned face, the little hurricane that was sent from the beautiful wings, and he frowned bitterly at the sight of struggle. He studied the white powder stains that blotched the monarch’s wings, like crushed salt or white caps in raging tide that remained permanent in the veined orange. He gasped a short press of air from his mouth, and in that airy noise his eyes had lost all sharpness like out-of-focus lenses trying to spot something far far away.

The coydog let it settle back down in the grass, cursed in lamentation under his shaky breath as it fought again to take to the skies it would never see again. A sound, an ear rose like a branch buffered by wind, and his head turned to stare out into the field where he stood. The bright quills of grasses fizzled and hissed, but all was as it should be. They were safe. They were not coming today. A voice then. ‘It was your fault’

Mystery took his eyes away from the outside and peered again to the dead monarch, still twitching, an epitome of grandeur. One of the prettiest things he'd seen. “I didn't see it, I sw-swear...” he replied. He felt hot breath lick at his nape, he didn't dare turn. ‘You should watch where you're going, get your head out of the clouds’

“I th-think it was just already there.” Mystery decided.

‘Head in the clouds head in the clouds’

“Better than a head on the gr-ground. Sounds like a beheading…”

Lucifer cackled wildly, his vapour of a voice springing from a spectral catapult somewhere inside. Crowley laughed too, but with calm and compassion, like a mother would at a child's first mishap with a banana peel. ‘Beheading’ Crowley repeated. ‘Off with our heads!’ Lucifer cawed, his voice a deeper rumbling thing that resonated in Mystery's chest. He reached up and rubbed at his neck. “I'd l-like to keep my head.”

More laughter. ‘Death is plenty’ ‘Death is sweet’ ‘Death for many is a treat’

‘Keeeeep???’

“I stepped on a butterfly!” He yelled, fingers twisting against one another like wire fence as his light gray and blue eyes wilted. ‘Kill more and play a prank’

‘Study it’


He didn't know what to do, so he sunk his eyes lower to the verdant tufts and dug out a stone from the soft earth. He sniffled, still mustering the gusto to wind himself back and throw the stone clear out into the blue. Mystery's head just sat tilted, to watch the spec float down like it had grown butterfly wings and touch down gently farther on in the field. To rule another kingdom far away from the ditch he'd dinted with the underside of his foot.
Your voice it chased away all the sanity in me

Mistfell Vale
Elkenfrey
User avatar
Daniel
Luperci

POSTED: Thu Jun 28, 2018 10:52 am

There was a voice somewhere nearby and Elle's sensitive ears pulled in the sound of it. She paused where she had been gathering materials for weaving – a skill that, though taught to her by her deadbeat mother, she had come to appreciate – and listened. She heard no other voice to carry on whatever conversation the individual was having, and yet... they were definitely talked to someone.

Squinting into the surrounding foliage, Elle couldn't brush away the way this one-sided conversation had piqued her interest and, decidedly frustrated that it had interrupted her foraging, the Crowstooth allowed the voice to draw her toward it. She discarded the measly few blades of rushes that she'd picked and started forward across the verdant earth toward where the voice was coming from. Pausing again when she heard something about beheading, the curly-coated Cormier frowned.

What the actual...

Unable to hold back any more, Elle pushed forward and found a mottled Mistwalker crying out about having stepped on a butterfly. A butterfly? Who cared about a stupid butterfly? But if the coydog's sniffle was any indication, someone clearly did. She watched for a moment, her face pinched and creased with bemusement. But when the figure simply stood there, head tilted and eyes staring off, Elle finally asked, "Whe the feck aare ye taalkin' te?" Elle didn't care about the fate of a single unfortunate butterfly; she had more pressing concerns.

Her sea-green eyes narrowed at the mottled figure, Elle stood and waited for some kind of explanation.

[WC — 260]

Mistfell Vale
Hawkesond
User avatar
Mandi
Luperci
these rules are made to break

POSTED: Thu Jun 28, 2018 5:10 pm

500+

OOC: :D

IC:


His ears pitched at the sound of someone else in his midst, and turned to see a dog, coat a muddy brown, eyes green like trees off clear water. Mystery's eyes were still reflecting that distance, the place where the stone had landed stained there like a still-frame, but his eyes eventually gained more luster and focus. He wasn't supposed to alarm anyone, as per the conditions laid down by the Ravenking, and here he was presented with a crossroad. Before he'd simply thought it best to divulge the things that went on in his head, as if people would just understand. But maybe Felix was right. Maybe they were dangerous, maybe he was dangerous.

“O-oh, I'm”’Lieeee’ a voice interjected, flash and lithe like a snake— “just talking t-to m-myself. I d-do it alot, I c-can't help it,” the merle told the other, as smoothly as a stuttering tempo would allow.

‘Wow you dirty liar,’ he cooed.

Mystery's ears fell slightly, and he frowned. Why couldn't he spend his time wandering these fields, being tortured by his demonic voices, alone. If he was a danger maybe time was better spent in solitude.

But then another look down, and he felt as if he were falling a long way to the ground. “You kn-know...how you d-don't want things to die and you try and tr-try b-but it's already g-gone so you try to be h-happy so you're n-not sad and th-then you're sad...anyway,” He rambled, his tone of voice not really posing it as a question, but as more of a standalone thought that had rattled its way to the surface. “I d-don't like feeling l-like that.”

A brush on the shoulder, a cold soft grip from afar. ‘Find more and start a collection perhaps’

He considered the idea, suddenly feeling the urge to throw something again, something with a crisp amount of heft he could get behind. He stooped low, nose and cheeks tickled with the bristly green protrusions before finding a suitable candidate. “And wh-where would they be kept?” He asked, digging his fingers beneath the rock to pry it up, pulling a few strands of grass. All collateral damage in his effort to make a lifeless bird soar. He got up to eye the clouds, then the horizon again. He had not really looked at the doggish one since she'd arrived, and he refused to make eye contact. Eyes were perplexing and difficult, not to mention horrific. They spoke too much. He pulled back and flung his impromptu avian, watching it hover up, almost looking as though it tickled the underbelly of a clout of clouds before plummeting back down. ‘That's what it feels to fall from a cliff’ ‘Or heaven’ ‘—or hell’

Mystery felt immense pressure once he released the rock, knowing he was supposed to pay attention to his guest now that he wasn't preoccupied. But faces and names pulled him from the deep, and he did not want to see the sun so closely. Being outside his bubble was torturous, sometimes moreso than being inside with the demons. “I'm n-not good with conversations...th-this is a c-conversation, right?” He frowned again and forced himself to look at her again, but not at the eyes. Never. “Our name—my n-name...is Mystery.”
Your voice it chased away all the sanity in me

Mistfell Vale
Elkenfrey
User avatar
Daniel
Luperci

POSTED: Wed Jul 04, 2018 7:45 am

Elle watched the merle Mistwalker as the coydog – a woman, for all she could see and smell – explained herself. "Ach, aye?" she asked, curling her lip and lifting a brow. How curious, she thought, to think there were folk who couldn't help but talk to themselves. It was a foreign concept to Elle, who had never felt compelled to free her thoughts without intending them to be heard by the ears of others. But, she supposed, it wasn't the strangest thing she'd ever heard before. "Why dinnae ye taalk te others instead?"

A shimmer of lightning flickered off in the distance, so quick that Elle wondered if she had only imagined it. But the roll of thunder that followed was telling. The Crowstooth lifted her sea-green eyes upwards, taking stock of the dark clouds, their bellies pregnant with an impending storm. Breathing in deeply, Elle closed her eyes a moment to enjoy the smell of promised rain. When she opened them again, they were on her fellow Mistalker.

But the coydog seemed eager to keep her eyes averted. When she spoke again, Elle had the sense that she had lost someone important and her eyes softened. Maybe this was less about the butterfly and more about something – or someone – else. "Aye," she said, remembering that time of her youth when her mother had disappeared. That was before she had hardened her heart. "Tha's why it's better not te caare."

At first, as the other Mistwalker stooped low, Elle thought she might be about to vomit. Instead, he asked a question that had no association, as far as she could tell, to what they had just been talking about. "Wha' th' hell aare ye taalkin' aboot?" she asked, frowning quizzically. When the woman straightened again, eyeing the clouds, she flung a stone high into the clouds.

When the first, fat raindrop fell and wet her nose, it was almost easy to believe that the coydog had broken the sky.

"Er..." Elle began. "Aye, sorta." Passively, she wondered why she always seemed to get stuck with people who weren't capable of normal communication. "Bu' ye hev te listen te wha' yer bein' told an' respond right, not taalk aboot shit tha' ain't part o' th' conversation."

Another raindrop hit her shoulder, distracting her from Mystery's mistake. "Ah'm Elle." She grinned. "Cormier. De ye like storms? 'Cause it looks like we got one coomin'."

OOC: Thread prompt - Just because it's June now doesn't mean it's warm and dry just yet! Summer rains have started to roll by, and with it, some thunder. Is your character scared? Maybe something gets struck by lightning!

[WC — 411]

Mistfell Vale
Hawkesond
User avatar
Mandi
Luperci
these rules are made to break

POSTED: Sat Jul 07, 2018 2:32 pm

500+

OOC: Run fer da trees

IC:


A question that seemed simple enough to answer, when put through him, quickly lost its simplicity. “It's uh, j-just h-hard and hard to explain, and h-hard to explain how h-hard it is t-to explain,” his voice ran, as if away from his tongue, ‘so you won't’ “s-so I won't.” He finished abrupt.

Lightning, a flash quick and it was over, and the thunder rolled through sending Mystery into shakes. His ears fluttered like the wings of that butterfly had, before they'd stopped and never started again.

Then came a topic he knew so much and so little of. Feelings, always mixed and given and taken and never real and always real. ‘You have something to say, dear. No one's here.’ Crowley urged, her crisp concise voice tangling in the nerves. The thunder eased away from his memory finally, and he breathed in, and back out to recite a rising thought: “To c-care is to f-feel and to feel is t-to live,” he whispered, but Elle was there, and he wished he hadn't said a thing up and out and into danger.

He'd been too internally occupied to hear the Crowstooth’s question, so it went unanswered. But then after is when he'd cast off the stone. The stone that broke the sky, and his right ear went a tick down at the minute patter off Elle’s snout. And the tension compiled, in the air, in the mind. Was it them. Then trouble again from Elle—about how to have a conversation, which made Mystery frown harder into the nervous expression that already sat on his face.

‘She sounds unintelligent’ Crowley observed, accent cold.

The merle blinked their gentle, two-hue eyes. “N-no,” Mystery responded quietly.

‘She talks funny’ Lucifer jeered.

His frown waned a bit. “Y-yeah, sh-she kind of d-does.”

Then another tinny blast of thunder louder than the last. Tumbling boulders up there somewhere, or the weighty and bursting strike of a violin. It shook the air, and inside Mystery felt it, that vibration, perhaps more than he should have. He had not noticed the shimmering white blanket moments before, and the crackle made his nerves leap across a gorge. His ears fell clumsily, defectively as if by mistake, and his eyes reeled down into the grasses that swayed more viciously than they had before. He searched, searched, and then saw the orange, the black, the white wings that sat stagnant as stone and felt an inescapable heaviness in his stomach. He was filling with sand, and he began to tremble. A wet warmth flowed down his lips. Immediately he sat down, red trickling out from his nose and dripping down into a raised hand, spattering like raindrops, pooling, glistening in a black paw pad.

“W-we…” he pressed. ‘Did you just—’ Lucifer cackled, cruel and callous but not as powerful as the sound the sky had made overhead. “we sh-should g-go,” the coydog said, urgency from his breaking voice as the wind picked up, the grass fizzling, and somewhere in the distance leaves on trees began to scream in terror. Was it them.
Your voice it chased away all the sanity in me

Mistfell Vale
Elkenfrey
User avatar
Daniel
Luperci

POSTED: Thu Jul 19, 2018 10:20 am

Elle blinked slowly, her brindled brows hanging over her eyes in a quizzical frown. She didn't see what was so hard about answering a simple question, but the finality in which the coydog ended her sentence was enough for her. Fine, she thought with a dismissive shrug. "Wha'ever," she said aloud. "Yer choice."

She was a little surprised to see the trembling that commanded the mottled coydog with the lightning strike and subsequent roll of thunder. Elle had never been afraid of storms. In fact, she found that she loved them, dangerous as they could be. She loved the rain and there was something about inclement weather that thrilled her. Of course, if it got bad enough, there was some fear as well, but Elle had not yet come to the realization that, despite her youth, she was still under the laws of mortality.

"Ne it ain't," she replied in disagreement, smirking smugly. "Te live is te live, an' Ah intend te live without caarin' aboot tha' shit." Confident and tough as she sounded, a tingle of something that could have been regret fluttered in her heart. The truth was that she did care. In fact, Elle cared a lot about many things, but it was better not to let others know that she did. It was better to be tough.

And then came the strange, quiet responses, as though the coydog was holding another conversation with someone else who Elle couldn't see, smell, or hear. It was one thing, Elle thought, to talk to oneself if they were alone, but it was downright weird to do it while having a conversation with another being. "Oi, wha' th' f-" But the clap of thunder drowned out her words and cut her short. She glanced up again, then back at her fellow Crowstooth. Her eyes widened at the sight of crimson.

"Shit," she said. "Yer bleedin'." And she pointed unhelpfully at the woman's face. The wind combed through her curly coat and rattled the grass and leaves. Branches knocked against one another. Elle felt a sense of exhilaration that was supplemented by the coydog's sense of urgency and the crimson river pouring from her nose. "'Tis only a storm," she replied. "Bu' aye, coome along, then. Ye should see te yer nose." And the rain began to fall in earnest.

For all the Cormier's words of not caring, her actions spoke louder to the contrary.

OOC: Sorry for the gross wait! D:

[WC — 411]

Mistfell Vale
Hawkesond
User avatar
Mandi
Luperci
these rules are made to break

POSTED: Sat Jul 21, 2018 5:04 pm

500+

OOC:

IC:


As soon as Elle began to respond to Mystery’s ideas of life, his mind closed off as his heart climbed. No conflict, no eyes no no not ever. His discomfort was rising. The humidity that had vaulted itself into the air making him feel trapped, mind scurrying and darting through a wet hot cage. He didn’t even want out he just wanted it to stop asking him questions. So he didn’t answer and that was that and things could move on.

The weighty hands in the sky brewed themselves their storm. Mystery barely heard Elle’s words of concern as the winds began to rush around as if there were places to go things to see. But there was nothing but the two of them, and the writhing grasses, the singing trees and the glistening blood that he held in his trembling hand. It felt like all part of the mix, of the weather, that could be stirred together to make a panic, and it did. “I-it’s c-c-coming we g-gotta go gotta g-go go gotta go g-gotta go…” he told everything that would listen, the colour of his eyes receding, down down down the storm drain. Then the rain plummeted, thick and hot, a warm-cold jet that made the ground smell of steaming dirt. His hand began to reach, toward the dog woman, but it pulled back. Elle wouldn’t want to take his hand. He scrambled to a stand and the flittering white-hot sheet spread through the air, before the shattering boom of thunder soared like a rocket. Mystery yelped, ears flat, and wet, body filling with horror as his flesh became soaked and warm. And all he could think about was the blood in his hand, the blood on the ground, the blood pouring from the sky coating him in the smell of fear and the twitching butterfly going twitch twitch twitch like a busted broken thing in the shivering grass. He began to run as hard as legs that felt like air would allow, stumbled over nothing. Another soaring crunch from the clouds jaws after a flash of light. When he got back up, he was on all fours, bones cracking and shifting like the storm and the electricity that had animated before raining down.

The sky was angry, and it wanted to slam its fist down on any who decided to expose their backs to the torrent. Mystery’s socked feet clumsily navigated Bluegrass, the early morning turned night, and his head yanked the memory of an outcropping out from the black and into the light. Further south, away from the north and the open where the eyes of the clouds could peer down, with their lives in the hands of the thing that never strikes twice. The coydog’s body was in its lupine shape now, and his gait had straightened, and so his speed had streamlined into the natural teetering flow of a panicked canine. “Th-this w-w-way!” He called out, the pounding of the rain drowning his voice out into a faint flicker of sound. He didn’t want either of them to explode, like the stories, like the sounds made it out to seem. 'Bang bang'

South south south. Like the birds for winter, they needed to fly fly away. Away from the big bad storm that threatened to blow them away. To obliterate.
Your voice it chased away all the sanity in me

Mistfell Vale
Elkenfrey
User avatar
Daniel
Luperci

POSTED: Fri Aug 03, 2018 11:19 pm

It seemed to the curly-coated waterdog, for only a trivial increment of time, that Mystery would accept her invitation. The mottled Crowstooth stretched out toward her and Elle responded in like. And then, as sharp and fast as the lightning that illuminated them from overhead, the coydog retracted her sprawling fingers and scrambled to away from her. Above, the clouds billowed and swirled and promised brutal, indiscriminate vengeance.

Yelping, ears flat and paws scrabbling earth, the coydog ran and Elle was left behind in a state of absolute puzzlement. "Wha' th' ffff-" she began, her words quickly failing her as she watched the woman's receding figure. When she paused to shift, the Cormier gathered her wits about her and lurched forward. One back leg slipped on patch of slick grass, sending her to her knees with an irritated grunt, but she composed herself again just as quickly.

"Feck, lassie, theore ain't nethin' te be tha' afraid o'!" she barked after the merle Crowstooth. But as she neared the woman, there was something about her that made Elle wonder if she had – or even could – hear her at all. More worried about the coydog's reaction to the storm than to the storm itself, Elle pushed air sharply through her lips and gestured for Mystery to lead the way. "Ach, aye!" she yapped. "Ah'm reet ahint ye."

OOC: Shit Daniel. Your writing is incredible. <333 I can't help but be reminded of Snitter from The Plague Dogs and this is my favorite thing everrrr.

[WC — 230]

Mistfell Vale
Hawkesond
User avatar
Mandi
Luperci
these rules are made to break

POSTED: Sat Aug 11, 2018 2:00 pm

500+

OOC: Aww, thank you, you made my day!I need to read that book! I like these two together :O

IC:


Everything seemed faster then, the ground moving beneath him, the rain moving in front of his eyes, it almost made him sick. The taste of his own blood slithering down his throat made it all worse. And if he was sick he would have to stop, and if he stopped he wouldn't be able to start again. He would just stare into the screaming wet bullets and be swallowed by the sounds and the flashes. The thought of this still, just made it worse, but he would not be struck no no not today, another day but not today.

He barely heard the accented voice, the storm's hands smothering it beyond recognition anyway, but Mystery still listened for it intently. He brought his eyes down to see a fallen evergreen. He jumped clear over, the smell of it quick and strong. But it wouldn't be so evergreen soon—soon it would be evergone everlong never ever again alive. “Even pr-pretty trees die, g-gone gone gone,” he muttered as the forest’s canopy shouldered the downpour enough for him to think clear. ‘You are gone gone too’

Mystery stopped, the pine and muck beneath a sludge in his toes, staining his legs. “N-no,” he looked about, which way which way. ‘An utter nutter you are it's okay sweetie’

No it wasn't. Then it was because he saw the cave, eyes bright. Mystery trotted forward, onward to another mouth, but this one would save him. Maybe the teeth had gone away today and the appetite was gone. Light switch on, light switch off. Then that splitting sound again, and the sky did split he swore it did, because the crack after was the opening of something that seemed unbreakable.

Mystery stumbled into the mud, the sound, the sound of death smashing the world smashing down on the little things. It made his body shake, but he was able to pull himself onto his belly, his back a forest-and-mire mess. His spots no more, only the smell of dirt and the complete and intense burn of wooden flesh. He gazed up to where things had been struck. The tree was all exploded out from the inside, all flaked and fluffed out, and now he knew what it would be like. It would be like nothing because you'd be gone, and everyone else would have to look at the mess, with everything inside not so inside anymore, and he was already a mess so what did it even matter. Mystery couldn't help but admire the tree, listening as the flames hissed from the rainfall, and his ears perked as a feeble crack showed a limb fall away from its body. He couldn't help but fall in love with the spectacle that frightened and intrigued. He was staring for so long he forgot about the cave, about Elle, about the crack, the boom and pissing sky, he just liked the pretty, the pretty and exploded tree. “Not g-green anymore. G-gone. Boom! And it's o-over,” he said, the rain warming his back. “G-goodbye tree, so l-long, y-you're nothing!” And he stood up, head reeling from the sudden motion, and he swooned a tad. “Nothing! At all!” the Crowstooth shouted. Lucifer giggled. ‘Calm down dumbass’

The thunder groaned. The tree hissed. Mystery shivered in place, his eyes Atlantic as if the rain had filled them up with something new. ‘Calm down’
Your voice it chased away all the sanity in me

Mistfell Vale
Elkenfrey
User avatar
Daniel
Luperci

POSTED: Fri Aug 31, 2018 6:37 pm

And, indeed, the coydog ran. On four lithe legs and paws that could claw and grab and pull at the earth, sailing faster and surer than anyone on two legs, the merle-spotted figure disappeared into the sheets of rain and flashes of lightning. The waterdog tried to follow, tried to keep pace, but there was little hope of it. What mutterings Mystery made, Elle only heard sounds without words, and used that to guide her for a time until that, too, failed. Scent was still possible, though the powerful smell of rain was overwhelming and left everything else a fading memory. The rain fell into her eyes and made the sights fuzzy and unreliable. Was that silhouette a Luperci or a stone? A fence line or a fallen tree?

The sound of individual raindrops falling on individual needles was muffled by the wind and the thunder and the downpour. Elle ran up to the evergreen, thinking she might find Mystery cowering beneath its dying boughs, but neither saw nor smelled anything to suggest the woman had sought refuge here. "Feckin' Goddess," the curly-coated Cormier cursed, feeling her patience wane. This seemed an awful lot to be dealing with for absolutely nothing, and the thought crossed her mind to abandon her fellow Crowstooth to the wind and the rain.

But Elle carried on, finally catching sight of sodden paw prints that hadn't yet dissolved in the driving rain. She followed them and they lead her to a cave, its mouth dark and gaping and not nearly so inviting to the waterdog as the storm outside. But Elle stomped within all the same, giving the sizzling of the thunderstruck tree only a cursory glance to make sure it was no threat. "Goddess damn ye!" she growled, her sea-green eyes blazing. "Ye couldna waited fer me? Feck. Ah din't think Ah'd find ye!" Though the ire in her voice was plain, the look of it on her face faded quickly enough.

There was a strange look in the coydog's eyes that softened Elle's irritation. "Aare ye okay, then?" she asked, then stepping inside the unpleasant cave, gestured for her to come near. "Coome on, let's wait oot th' storm." Elle lowered herself to a sit on the damp stone floor, her legs crossed in front of her.

OOC: <333 It's so good! Sad, but gooood. Also: sorry I'm the worst. :c

[WC — 393]

Mistfell Vale
Hawkesond
User avatar
Mandi
Luperci
these rules are made to break

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