Our eyes were not made for this life

[p. Silas]

POSTED: Wed Aug 08, 2018 8:17 pm


The dress was old, something often found when she wanted to impress. Her whole existence was about impression and so the reddish dress, black fur at the neck, black at the cuffs, was a tool used to pop even more so. Bright against her throat, the ruddy color made her ringed eyes brighten, but they always glittered ominously, as though in warning.

However, it required maintenance that she hated desperately. Without a slave to take care of such a task, it had fallen to her to handle. Delfina desperately hated it and longed for a new slave to delegate such tasks to. She thought wistfully of the overly useful man her mother had once, and then tittered after she remembered her knife across his throat. Such a waste, but the world was so much better off without the man alive.

He had doted far too much on her dear sister, far too much to be acceptable. She knew why after so long wondering, and it made the whole world feel so much more awful. Who had let such a corrupted life continue on, so willingly? What punishments did such a person deserve? Death was hardly suitable; it was far too fast and final.

Delfina roared with fury as she splashed the cleaning liquid upon herself, wetting down her thighs and soaking her toes. She hopped back from the wooden bucket, looking indignantly down at herself before growling. She aimed a kick at the bucket, knocking the whole thing over, letting the dress splattered into the fresh mud.

Delfina Heiwa
Licking her chops she looks at the lunatics. She needs another fix

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The Tradesman
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╫ blood madness ╫

POSTED: Sat Aug 11, 2018 6:26 pm

To rise and shine is so hard to do
When all the light has been taken from you

OOC: +400 words.

Silas held no complaints for his life, he was content with his role. He had once thought otherwise, and he knew first hand what was waiting for him when he did. When he behaved, he was rewarded for his actions. Though he was... worried about the promise his new 'master' had made for him, it was in a way, a means to keep him going. Freedom to him meant those small moments when he would be allowed to run free in the fields, to spend his days relaxing at his master's side. Those small moments when he could be like a child again.

He had broken into his mind that he would never be truly free, but even that fact didn't both him. He was good to his core, and would do everything in his power to serve those in the kingdom faithfully.

The wolf's ears moved up as he heard the roar in this distance. This wasn't a noise that came from any kind of wild animal. It was frustration, something that was not too hard to pick out. He was quick to move. Frustration always meant, at least in the case of Rabenuhr, that some assistance would be needed. Many of the guards back home made similar sounds when they were growing frustrated with the new luperci that had been caught and brought to the camp for the first time. Many of them started out just as he had.

When the servant appeared, the dark woman had already kicked over her bucket, beautiful dress falling into the mud. A frown crossed along the male's face. He wanted so much to act, but it was wrong of him to touch another's belongings without permission. Ears pulled back slightly before his hand reached at his side, fingers sinking into the pocket of his pants. It was better for him to assume that everyone in the kingdom of Salsola would not know how to speak his language except for Julia, so better to write it.

Writing utensil moved quickly across the open page, only pausing once as he considered his position. He knew the name of Helena and knew the dark woman who greeted both of them along the borders was the Queen, but how was he meant to address others? Not dwelling on it for too long, he continued.

Silas was careful in his approach, not wanting to get kicked himself. It's not like it would matter one way or another; he had suffered far worse than a kick from an angry woman. Waiting at a distance to see if she would calm, one hand reached out, the open page in view for the dark woman, "Silas noticed dirty dress. Would 'master' like Silas to clean it? Silas is servant to all of Salsola." There was no way this was another servant after all. What servant would be able to have such clothing?

Silas del Morte

The Mendicant
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Luperci Forever Changing Bound to the Raven's Call

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