A False God

Ouija D'Angelo · 11-05-2010, 02:38 PM

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OOC here: Table & Coding © Noelle; 355 words

Ouija had gone out and just wandered around for awhile. The change of the seasons meant that he wasn't as colorful as he usually was. He hadn't been in this area long so he didn't have any supplies with him. And well, where he was now he wasn't going to find anything colorful either. But that was okay. The colder months he usually went for blood shades anyways. Actually he had done that not too long ago. He had caught a couple of rabbits and used their blood to coat himself. But that had started to fade away as well. But that was okay because he was covering it up. He scooped up handfuls of the black muck in the swamp and had started to cover himself with it.

It wasn't as colorful as he usually did but it would work for now at least. It would be something other than just plain white for awhile. He knelt in the muck in his optime form and scooped up handful after handful to pile on himself and spread in. He didn't usually go one single color but he had nothing else around at the time so he made to cover himself completely with the mud. He had to admit that he was slightly curious what he would look like completely black. After all he had heard that he resembled his grandfather, all except for the color of his coat. So why not go black now and glance at what his grandfather looked like? Not that there was anything to look at himself in.

And well, his hair was probably different too since he wore his in dreads and he had no idea how his grandfather had worn his. But what had him the most interested was that his grandfather had been said to resemble a god. Of course he knew nothing about this god. He didn't know his grandfather either. Actually, he had no idea just how large the family was seeing as how he had lived separated from the lot of them. But he found an interest in what it was that he didn't know.

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Misery · 12-04-2010, 02:09 AM

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I told you exploring was a stupid idea. "Shut the fuck up, Damian." Misery's words are a cold, hard hiss. She is stuck and she does not have time for his mocking, teasing words. She is stuck in a stinking, fetid swamp. Normally Misery would not dream of talking to her invisible lover that way, but she is not in the mood. Her ghostly fur is streaked with mud and she is starting to feel the tickle of panic lapping at her frayed nerves. Misery can feel her bad leg screaming out every time she tries to force it to move in the muck and she draws in a slow, careful breath. Tumbling down the hill was frightening - landing and realizing she is stuck waist deep in the mud is even more frightening. Her stave is buried deep in the nasty mess and she pushes as hard as she can.

"Fuck you too, Tak. Fuck you Ankh, fuck you Rah'khir, all of you can burn in the pyre." Blasphemy spills from her black lips as she curses and feels herself finally moving, falling face first, painfully into the embankment. "I hate all of you." The words come out in a hoarse, shaky whisper as she feels the spongy-firm ground she has crashed painfully into. At least she is free of the muck. Her bottom half is the dirty brown-black of mud and she will have to bathe neurotically upon getting home. Misery does not mind being dirty, but she cannot stand the heavy, clumping feel of mud. It reminds her of clotted blood. She is unaware that nearby a boy plays in the mud - painting himself. She only curses God and pants, weary, on the bank of the filthy swamp.

Ouija D'Angelo · 12-18-2010, 04:02 PM

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OOC here: Table & Coding © Noelle; Sorry, it's been unusually cold where I am at (enough to actually get snow) and I'm anemic so I can't keep body heat so I've been freezing lately and unable to feel my fingers and toes; 332 words

He would have to find some sort of clean water source to be able to see how he looked with his new paint job. Of course that probably meant that he would have to leave the swamp to find clean water but that was fine by him, even if it meant that the mud would have dried by the time that he finally found a place to be able to look at himself. It just mean that he would have to come back for a second coat if it ended up coming down to that. But that was fine as well seeing as he had the time to waste. He had at least found something to entertain himself with for awhile at least.

After he figured that he had pretty much completely covered himself in the muck he finally stood up. His ear twitched at the cursing. Tak? Well that is what he was playing at being. So what was known about this Tak? He forgot about going to scout out somewhere to look at himself but instead went to track down the source of the voice instead. He found a female a short distance away and made to approach her. He had no idea who she was or that she was even family. He was only curious about the names that had been called out.

"What do you know about Tak?" He questioned her as he knelt upon the ground near her. He even held out a hand towards her to help her up if she wished. There was no doubt that he was curious about the god that his grandfather was said to resemble. The one that he was currently trying to see in himself. He hadn't been familiarized with Khalifism but he was eager to learn. He didn't mind knowing more about his family. About where they came from and what they believed in. After all he would be surprised to learn just how large his family actually was.

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