[p] something pure to burn away the darkness

Eris Eternity · 09-13-2012, 05:40 AM

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Setting	Location	Form	NPCs
Location: The Ruins, SL Date: ~9 Sep* (Backdated) Weather: Overcast, cool Time: Morning			--

416

Eris is by Alaine!

The dark woman's world was filled with familiar and returning scents. Harrow had come back to her -- if only the dead could rise so easily. The morose thought was only a passing one, however, for on the whole, Eris's mood had taken a sharp inclination toward near merriment. There was an almost feverish quality to her happiness, as was typical of one in the throes of passion. Perhaps more typical of one in the throes of passion considered wholly good and something almost akin to destiny.

Yet she was still creeping and quiet; she dared not flaunt herself and her Pandemic in the public eye as of yet. She must bide time and wait, as the witch's child had suggested. Though more of what she and her mother said was eaten with a grain of salt since Sirius's departure, the dark-furred woman did believe in their devotion to Salsola, in the least. And truly, it was best for Salsola if they were public. But the time was not yet right, and so Eris continued her ritual slathering of oils and scents, bathing more frequently than she had by far in the deepest slump of darkness.

And she had all the more reason for care and preparedness; her daughter had returned. Though it pained her to do so, the dark-furred woman knew precautions were necessary. Harrow's mind had been tainted by the outside, and though her face had shown love and devotion on her return, Eris had been burned by such before. Salvia might have looked at her in such a way -- she could not clearly recall. There was no anger within Eris, though -- there might have been before, but she had, in her own mind, transcended beyond such pettiness, especially where family was concerned. Her family, anyway -- her mother and all the rest still did not qualify as family to Eris, for they had been effectively disowned.

After having fussed about a meal -- most of the work done by slave hands, for Eris still considered the preparation and cooking of domesticated animals a task beneath her -- and having obtained a carrying bag of her own things, the dark woman set out to find her daughter. She regretted her inability to host the coal-furred woman, but could not have done so for obvious reasons: Pandemic would have required removal, and she knew there was little else for him to do but sulk in one of the half-finished ruins.

Harrow D'Angelo · 09-13-2012, 08:58 AM

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(567) mamaaa. 8D

It felt odd to sleep by herself. She had realized on the second night that there was never a time in her life where she went to lay alone. Omitl was there in the Ruins with her though, like as every night ever since she could remember, a tight, warm ball of fur pressed against her stomach. But, that was different case that didn't ease the little pang of loneliness. She yearned for canine company--the still kind of warm nights felt cold and empty without being near someone familiar, keeping away mischievous creatures and specters she would imagine emerging from the darkness.

But, she stubbornly preserved. Maybe it was a part of growing up, she supposed. After all, Eris did not offer her home--Harrow's first home, the one that mattered more than the other places she went--and the girl decidedly did not ask. She was aged, no longer a pup, but a young woman. Yet, did she not still cling to the stuffed rabbit? She avoided it's little cubby hole it was placed in, more or less putting off the duty to clean it and on the fence about asking a slave to do it for her, but on the first night, she slept with the muddy thing she dropped forsakenly close to her chest. She could try to rise to her expectations as an adult of the family, but there were still tendrils of warm, inviting tendancies she did not want to let go of, familiarity luring her in and trapping her. Maybe the woman wasn't truly a woman yet after all.

When she woke, the air was how she felt when she noticed she was alone again--cool and distant. How fitting it was, she thought absentmindedly. Omitl stirred when she rose, and crawled into her lap, the she-cat wanting to keep the comfortable warmth the dark girl gave. "Morning, Harrow," the lynx purred, as if sensing her vagueness. The hybrid was quiet, and just smoothed her head in response. She only barely remembered it during her first year of life, but she knew that the third season was coming upon them. Summer days were gone, chased away by the sibling's somewhat chilling fingers. Yet, there was still that edge of warmth that would come with the sun, when it was to rise.

She stepped out of the ruin she had been spending time in--perhaps she would make it her own, but it did not feel like "home" yet. It was near to her mother's, and Harrow guessed that was what the best she could do. The distance, short as it was, still made her uneasy. A scent came upon her, and a wide smile spread across her face, and as she quickly shouldered the small bag that still contained what merger things she had and made a bee's line for it; it smelled masked, some pungent stuff muddled with it, but nevertheless it was her. Omitl trailed behind her lazily, her own gait not as hurried as the girl's. "Mama," she automatically called, her quiet voice laced with excitment, when she knew she was somewhere near. Startling eyes finally found the dark fur, and Harrow hesitated; she was a lowly associate, and she, the Crone--to think of her not as Auxiliray made faint emotions stir in her. She was not sure if the hug she wanted to badly to give would be unacceptable, or what.

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Eris Eternity · 09-14-2012, 09:43 AM

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409 omg omg omg omg. 8B

Eris is by Alaine!

The dark-hued woman often wondered what Basilaris might look like. He'd be almost grown now, shifting already. She needed only look at her grown children and imagine. He would not be as strongly built as Pandemic or even Artemisia, the thickest and strongest of her daughters. Neither would be possess the slim, scant hints of coyote present in Wretch. His pale fur would have remained pale -- or so, she thought. Ataxia had begun her life nearly as dark as Harrow and Eris herself, but adulthood brought her to a silver-gray shade. Larkspur had almost certainly been wholly black, once upon a time. Even in her age, Eris lost none of the coal-hued sheen of her fur. She could not have known such, but it was the dog's blood inherited from her mother which kept it so ink-colored and free of paler patches.

Shifting the bag on her hip, she thought idly of its contents as she made her way slowly, sniffing after Harrow. It was uncertain just where the dark-hued daughter had chosen as her home, and Eris once more regretted -- although not overmuch -- her present situation. Things would be so much better once she and Pandemic were in the open and frank with their love. Skulking and slinking was, for the moment, a necessary evil. There was always Salvia to think about, which Eris had attempted -- and failed, for the most part -- to avoid considering entirely. She had stolen Pandemic, taken him right from Salvia's home, even -- and neither would either of them turn back. There was none of that; it was far too late.

Before long, there was the faint scent of her daughter, carried by an errant bay breeze that blew in an uncharacteristic direction. The hybrid quickened her step and grinned at the young woman's voice, the name she loved to hear above all others. "Mama" was better than even her own name, the one she'd chosen for herself out of respect and reclamation of her father's heritage. Harrow, she said, moving the bag behind her and reaching out to deliver first the customary Salsolian greeting and then a more motherly hug, looping both arms around Harrow. She felt for the second time, and with no less disquiet, the thinness of her left arm, and restrained the question from her muzzle. Where are you staying? I've brought things for you, the hybrid offered.

Harrow D'Angelo · 09-16-2012, 01:24 PM

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(430)

While Harrow wondered what her siblings thought of her return--especially her littermates' and Salvia's thoughts--they were only a concern that lived in the back of her mind. She knew, or at least was certain, that they would welcome her back like their mother had. The image of Wrench flashed in her mind. She had met her while in Vinátta, and didn't know what to think of her. But she knew that her siblings, at least her older ones, saw her as an outsider. What if she was just another Wrench? No, she interrupted herself in mid-thought. She was family, they were her family. She is a different case than Wrench; Wrench didn't want to come back, which was foolish, or so Harrow thought. But, she did, and everything will be okay, one way or another. It always did.

All worries were put on the back burner, if just for now, as the mother and daughter found each other. When the familiar greeting ensured, Harrow nearly stood on the tips of her toes in order to return the nuzzle, until she realized--she had actually grown taller than Eris. A few inches was a small difference, but to her it was drastic. But, she managed not to fumble and "kissed" the woman back on her cheeks, and wanted to squeal when she felt the loving arms wrap around her. Only a soft whimper escaped her, though, and she hugged her with her strong and flimsy arms. She knew that the left arm would not go unnoticed for long, but Harrow supposed the longer it was put off, the better.

Her tail whipped behind her at the mention that her mother had something for her, and she asked to just to make sure, "You did?" She reminded herself that she was asked about something, so she quieted herself and tried to to calm her appearance, but there was no stopping the happy leak in her voice. "I live not far from here, just a couple of yards. It's a ruin like everyone else's, and it's pretty nice." But not as nice as home. She kept this out, though, since she knew that it would only bring guilt to Eris. And she definitely didn't want to make her mother feel guilty.

She tried to remain self-possessed, but a moment later the front crumbled, and became excited again. "What'd you bring, mama? What is it?" Anything from her must've been great, and was impatient to see what, and had to stop herself from demanding to see it like a spoiled child--at least, more like one.

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Eris Eternity · 09-17-2012, 11:26 AM

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313 GO INADVERTANT GIANT JERK ERIS? will make edits if prefer not 8D

Eris is by Nat!

We'll go there and make sure you're set up, alright? the woman said, smiling. Perhaps she could summon a slave if there was anything truly laborious needed done, but the dark-hued woman was quite capable and quite willing of ascertaining her daughter's basic comfort in Salsola. Though her inclinations toward Pandemic were different, she was nothing but motherly toward her daughters -- perhaps owing to Eris's sexuality or simply Pandemic's striking resemblance to his father.

There was still an element of delusion to it, as though Pandemic had magically transcended the category Harrow, Ataxia, and Salvia -- did Wretch even count anymore? She had never returned home. The thought struck her without warning, and the dark-hued woman shoved it away, instead focusing on the petty material things she'd brought with her in the hopes of starting Harrow's life in Salsola over again.

Just a few things to help you get settled, the woman said, turning the bag around. She opened it and proceeded to pull out a carefully folded winter elk pelt. She could not recall just where she'd gotten it. It was as likely a creature hunted by Larkspur himself as something she'd plucked from the communal storage. It did not matter much, in any case, and the dark woman held it out for Harrow's inspection without unfolding it. Some candles, too, and a bit of oil for your scent.

The dark-hued woman pulled another bit of leather from the bag. This she unfolded and fluffed out. We won the war -- if you could call it that, the hybrid said absently, almost dismissively. You received none of the spoils, though, the woman said, brushing a bit of ash from the shoulder of the cloak. Although finely made, there were patches of gray and spots of dull rusty red in one corner.

Harrow D'Angelo · 09-26-2012, 12:43 PM

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gogo! 8O

The woman-girl flashed a pearly smile at her mother, and quickly stepped back to where she came, but she did not allow herself to go farther than a few feet away from the other. While she was certainly used to being back home, she still wanted to cling near her mother as if there was the threat of either of them disappearing if Harrow ventured too far. The collapsing stone house was not far off, and in less than a minute they came upon it. It was not in bad shape, considering that most of the ruins were ragged around the edges, away.

Vivid, sharp eyes watched, fired with excitement, as Eris took the bag in hand and begun to take out something. While she anticipated many things, a pelt was not one of them--but the item was no less meaningful. She took the elkfur gingerly with her arms, as if cradling an animal, and brushed the pelt with a free hand. It was nice, and Harrow instantly felt attached to it, and held it more possessively to her chest. She nodded at the mention of candles and oils, grinning at each as they were spoken about.

But, her smile faultered a little at the mention of the war, or as so they addressed it. The few, cutting memories she associated with that time were the most unpleasant things she had expeierenced yet. She forced herself to appear happy at the mention of winning, for it was certainly a good thing that Salsola preserved. But, when mother spoke the truth of her not receiving spoils, she felt her heart drop. It was not because she didn't get more objects to preen over, but because she was not there to help, and when she had done so, it earned her lameness. The feeling of utter uselessness overcame her, and she reverted her eyes to the ground. "It is very nice," she stated softly, and began to move towards her ruins, thought pausing to see if mother would follow her in. She still wouldn't step far from her presence.

Eris Eternity · 10-03-2012, 04:57 AM

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-- /buttdrag buttdrag Sad

Eris is by Requiem!

The dark-hued woman was satisfied to see the condition of her daughter's dwelling. While there were no ruins within Salsola which could be properly called magnificent, there were the better places to live and the not so good. Eris herself had chosen modest dwellings, counting on her mate's ability to construct and build as she liked. Such reliance was gone and away with the war; Eris, who had her own ghosts associated with the time period, caught the flicker of Harrow's expression. Her small and wolfish ears perceived what might have been a twinge of insincerity in her voice.

The dark woman gave one glance around, as if checking to see if they were observed. There was nothing furtive to the gesture; Eris's bold chartreuse gaze swept over the vicinity and, upon finding it acceptable, stepped into her daughter's home. Upon entering, she set the bag aside and settled to the earth without invitation. Her smile was one of understanding, and she peered at Harrow with earnest green-yellow eyes. Talk to me, my dear girl. She hoped she needn't append the statement with a "speak freely" -- but she would if necessary.

Harrow D'Angelo · 10-07-2012, 12:19 AM

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god I just feel like this post sucks. 8C sorry dearie!

Sharp eyes moved from the ground, and glanced over where her mother's had went. Nothing interesting was met with them, but Eris seemed satisfied with what she saw, or lack of, and stepped into the house herself. While the thought of having to check where they were and what unknown company they could hav been holding was well in the back of her mind, it seemed that evasiveness never escaped those true to Salsola. Even within the borders, there were still things to consider, she reminded herself.

She followed her mother closely, and sat herself next to her. The smile that laced her muzzle eased the girl into a more comfortable air, but yet she remained silent even when she was told to speak. Where was she to start? There was much to say, all of which were equally important in their own ways. The weight on her back came to mind, and she decided to start with that. While there was certainly going to be a time where they would address the tense filled moment, Harrow felt the need to share something that was more formal, and she felt comforted by distracting her sadness.

"I visited Vinátta a while ago," she started off; she decided not to say "joined". She was of their rank once before, yes, but never felt the attachment to say she was a real Vináttan. Dark gloved hands reached into the pack, and easily drawn out the items she sought for. "I drew some maps of some of their territory," she explained as she placed down the sketch book, and then followed up by placing two, carved necklaces on top of it. One was her's, and the other stolen away from Hael. As far as she knew, they had those running out their ears, so it wouldn't be missed. "And these are marks of their membership. I kept them, just in case."

Eris Eternity · 10-08-2012, 06:49 AM

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-- Mahh, it's tough to write about stuff you didn't experience with the character... ;_; Also my post before yours was poop and short and those posts are hard to reply to. x__x I felt like I just had to post to get caught up and made myself not care about the quality of replies and re-reading all of them I am just like mehhhhhhh should have waited. But IDK. |: It's tough to make the call between "way too long replying" and "will get shitty post in return" always, imo. But at least now that I sort of kicked myself in the ass all is well? Or something. @___@;;

Eris is by Alaine!

The dark-hued woman remained perched in rapt attention, as if their roles were reversed and she was the child receiving a life lesson from a doting mother. Vinátta was one of the things Eris had not bothered with: the pack had risen after, or shortly before, her fall downward from the leadership position. Why did she, The Crone, need concern herself with these foreign entities? As she saw it, they were the responsibility of Salvia and Sirius -- and now just the former. Her chartreuse eyes followed Harrow's motions to the pack; Eris's eyes widened as she heard this next news. The tokens of the northerly pack were picked up with delicate -- almost repulsed or disgusted -- motions. The charm was picked up between two fingers, giving as little contact as possible. Nonetheless, the dark woman's eyes were still wide with fascination and curiosity.

How wonderfully useful, the hybrid said, beginning to grin as she pulled the sketchbook toward herself, replacing the necklaces where they were. It is always good to possess something like that, the hybrid said, tapping the necklace. Sometimes it can give you power over another. That was obvious in the strict interpretation of the words, but also the spiritual. Her eyes were drawn into the sketchbook, which she'd opened -- having no concept of the potential privacy of such things -- and leafed through slowly. She paused on one of the maps and looked at it closely, scrutinizing the shape. You're much better at sketching than I was writing, Eris remarked, confusing the two distinct abilities into one. These maps might come in handy, should we ever come to trouble with our neighbors. Her tone indicated she thought the possibility of such things small.

Harrow D'Angelo · 10-17-2012, 08:16 PM

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i put there instead of their in my last post jfc i'm dead

The girl reveled in the absolute rapturous attention that her mother was giving her. To be the center of her attention was what seemed to make her the happiest these days. Gleaning her approval was at the forefront of her mind, and it seemed little else was able to compare to the satisfaction it would award her with. The quietness that had settled over her when the war was mentioned evaporated, and soon she was wrapped up with the few objects she was showing Eris.

A white-toothed smile flashed across her black muzzle as the dark woman set down the necklaces, and watched as a finger tapped against the Norse symbols. They were indeed useful, and power—she didn't see it as that way before, but now that it was said, she realized their full potential. Pride swelled within her as she congratulated herself for nabbing something that someone else might not have found purpose to bring. Harrow waited impatiently as Eris opened the book, not at all feeling the evading of personal space; she hid nothing from her, even if there were things in there she would otherwise shield from pry eyes.

She reached the maps, and she felt her heart flicker at the compliment. "Thank you," she murmured, her tail brushing the ground softly. When the mention of trouble, the girl shook her head. "I doubt it. They are nice." Too nice. Kindheartedness could be a weakness, if taken advantaged by the wrong hands. There could hardly be any competition if they decided they were being oppressed by them, since the girl could imagine them turning belly-up at the sign of violence. She expected nothing less to be shown to Salsola, frankly.

"I know a few other things... But they are most trivial, nothing special," she admitted, and tried to search her mind for anything useful, including things that were outside of the northern pack. But, nothing rose to mind, and she looked back to her mother, a soft smile spreading across her face. "How are you doing, mama? Are you okay?"

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