AH, MERCILESS LOVE | open + abandoned

MADI · « **on:** April 24, 2018, 08:17:55 PM »

ROMAN

Roman arrived at the brink of night, a small scrap of golden fur deposited on the border. Venus had chosen a sea-faring group in a subtle nod to his father's home Clan, and the waves crashed gently in the distance as the goddess knelt to bless the tiny kitten. "Dear child," she whispered with a kiss to his forehead, "Little dove, you shall make me proud." And with that, she was gone -- leaving no trace of her existence behind except for a small, daintily written note that wore only two words: roma amor.

The fragile son of love and chaos was on his own then, merely days old as he wriggled for warmth and let out a low, plaintive wail. The soft moonlight caught on his golden fur, setting it alight and revealing that it was strangely metallic, as if woven from the precious ore with gentle fingers. There was not much else to be said for the tiny newborn, undeveloped as he was; and perhaps his lovely fur would be all there was to Roman for some time -- like a cold statute brought to life, a blank slate. Regal, beautiful, fierce, but missing something. Perhaps the departing goddess had stolen it away with her as she departed, leaving him defenseless and at the mercy of this Clan.

[ finna use this in place of a birthing thread and start rping him at 3 months outside of this huhu
also here pinchy ur fake son ]

ARGUS · « **Reply #1 on:** April 24, 2018, 09:21:13 PM »

IT'S TOO COLD FOR YOU HERE !

ARGUS - TYPHOON STRIKER - Storage

If the kitten was a woven gold, then the Striker was made of marble. Sculpted in the image of perfect balance: Ferosity- bloodthisty and careing. Dull red eyes shone like murky rubies and claws made of iron. A breath from savage and a glimpse of ageless. Argus was too well aware with her own image. Unkept fur falling carefully around her thin frame- wings carrying most of her bulk and muscle. She looked withered and old, one stray wind away from being knocked into the sand to murge with it in ash if it wern't for one glareing difference.

Across her throat marred the perfect white of her frame. A hole, about three centimeters in length where her throat was meant to be. Still shoulders and a black gap that carried out to the back of her neck. It was a sign of the danger that lurked under- crawling into her skin and filling her hollow bones with something far stronger and permanent than marrow ever could be. Power, magic, spirit. Whatever you wished to call it. Divinity, death, and insanity exhaled around her like a physical aura. A Harbinger in many unspoken things. Death, peace, mercy- love.

Divinity saturated the air like toxic smoke, a snarl filtering across the pale canid's shoulders at the sense of it. Ruby eyes flashing with callous malice. Like a puppet being pulled to act, her thin and unintimidating first glace shifted into something dangerous. Teeth flashing as she broke between the tree's only to spot a fleck of gold not unlike what her clan collected greedily. In the harsh light of the moon, the disappearing traces of other on the breeze. Argus made a silent claim on her own find. A child. A child.

It made her shake in long forgotten rage towards the parents. She was careful- cautious in stepping out unto the beach to claim her prize. Ruby eyes flickering from the small wailing child to the beach. Trying to find some vacant remnant clue. When none came, the beast picked up her pace. A note was tied to the basket, cursive English stating two words. Marking their claim on what is no longer there. She kept the growl from her throat as she clawed the not in two.

"Shh, shh. I am here. I will watch you for the night." Because as much as it filled her with rage, she knew she was not in the right mind to take care of someone- to claim this kid as selfishly as she wanted. Dark ruby eyes flashed with an unspoken need. Now was not the time- she could not accept him as her own. But she had little doubt that someone else would. The typhoon was filled with broken individuals like her. Maybe she could take the child to the captain. Heh, it would give him something to boss around.

"You are Roma, little one. And I am Argus." The beast hushed in absolution, her words soft but reverent, a voice kept at a hush as the wind picked up the named letter and blew it into the water. "Welcome home. You are home now, little roman." She could take him to the captain in later today, but for now, as the sone rose to greet her- she thought it fair to allow herself this selfish moment.
~~[W]isker~~

Verdigris · « **Reply #2 on:** April 25, 2018, 08:52:45 PM »

If the child was woven of gold and Argus was cast in marble, then Papercutter was chiseled from obsidian. The dark fur coating his frame was streaked with white and gray along his back and flanks, and a curved flaw split his right eye down the middle. A cold sapphire rested in one eye socket, and warm amber filled the other. He may not have been the strongest in this region, but he stood tall and resolute- as anyone would after emerging from the heat and pressure of the desert.

The jackal saw the newborn wriggling in the sand before he heard its cries, and cautiously approached them. Strangers appeared on the beaches all the time, but how a helpless child had found themselves there was the real question- had it been washed up by the shore, or set down by a beast of the air? Perhaps it was an illusion, although the purpose of casting a child's image in the middle of nowhere was unclear.

Upon Argus' approach and subsequent speech, Paper nodded to himself. It would seem he wasn't the only one observing the newborn's presence, so he could assume he wasn't simply hallucinating. "Roma," he murmured, testing how the name sounded when he spoke it aloud. Out of the corner of his eye, he could spot the note with the words written on it, so he turned his head to examine it. Roma amor.

"It suits him," Paper added more loudly, though not so loud as to startle the child. "I would assume he's not old enough to eat solids... would coconut milk suffice?" While he had aided in the care of some of his younger siblings, his mother had always been present to feed them- finding milk substitutes had never been a matter of concern.

LUCIFERR · « **Reply #3 on:** April 26, 2018, 06:10:59 PM »

Hymn of Ruin

LUCIFER GRIMM — MALE — TYPHOON — VERY DIFFICULT

His companions might be spun of gold or marble, even chiselled obsidian - but Lucifer was purest black, like a great swath of the void between stars cut and folded into a singular being that now moved across the bright sands like a spreading stain of ink.

there was something familiar of this one - roman, if the name he caught Argus whispering spoke true.

still to abandon a child.

hrrrh, that didn't sit well with him - no matter the reasons.

quietly the dragon moved to curl around the duo - a secondary embrace against the cooler air - they were both his after a fashion, even if he had yet to know that of the now named Roman.

Lucifer tilted his head to Paper "possibly for now" he agreed, better than naught perhaps.

/low muse apologies.

#psychosocial.

PINCHER · « **Reply #4 on:** April 26, 2018, 06:18:12 PM »

Gold. Pincher wouldn't like to call himself greedy but he did have to make the horrible confession that he was attracted to anything that glinted in the sun and was created by earth with the graceful hand of beauty carving it's form. Like many cursed members of his twisted bloodline, Pincher was a thief. He knew how to take from others without even batting a lash or feeling a ribbon of remorse or guilt, his paws hungry for whatever that wasn't his to become his. He supposed that maybe it was because of his rough pathetic background. It was tragic and certainly did create a monster out of an innocent naive little child but Pincher knew best than to let that define him. He was a thief. His name was Pincher for fuck's sake although of how he had actually gotten the name was a different story that had been buried deep by the Captain for he did not want anyone to know the embarrassing truth. His real name itself was different and brought a sour taste to his mouth when he thought about it. Deniz. The meaning behind it wasn't surprising for it meant the "sea" for alas, his father had been a black-hearted pirate. Pincher wasn't necessarily a pirate, he tended to learn more into smooth gangster business than anything else but the thrill of plundering had always been an acquired habit that he now enjoyed from time to time. Maybe he could plunger Tanglewood sometime soon if he was in the mood for they supposedly had crocodiles and Pincher dreamed of tasting crocodile flesh.

The tall canine almost crashed into a massive palm tree in his way, his pale cofee brown paws scrambling and kicking up thick swirls of sand as he spun on his heel to avoid the foolish mistep that would have lead to him making a rather awkward attraction from his crew. Last thing he wanted was to become a laughing stock and he was not in the mood to laugh alongside them at his foolish clumsiness. However, it seemed that the attention had never been focused on him in the first place. Instead, the other two pair of eyes that were from his crew were focused on some random basket that was emitting a horrible cry that caused a warm shiver to strike his chest when he began to realize what was happening. No. No more kids. He couldn't even stand his own two kids at the moment, especially with one holding the witty attitude of himself as well as Guru's. Goldenluxury was more of the vibrant side while Coldblue held a ominous power that reminded him of himself. Many fathers would be proud to say that dumb saying "like father, like son" but for Pincher, he wanted his children to be nothing like him.

Following shortly after the ink black colored figure of Papercutter, the ocean-smelling Captain padded with tense shoulders and a facial expression that was traced with uncertain contempt. Under the vibrant moon that danced along the stars, his eyes were immediatly drawn to the fallen star that was inside the basket. His half-lidded slits widened as he halted beside Papercutter, attention now locked onto the tiny ball of fur that was in the basket. Huh. From a distance, it had appeared like a large nugget of rich enchanting gold but all that now lay in front him was some whiny child that was just going to become a leech for their resources. He wrinkled his dark pepper nose, lowering his skull to sniff it as the doberman recoiled and decided to join the conversation. Argus seemed invested in protecting the child, her motherly instincts kicking in and knowing the ivory winged wolf, she would rip the throat of anyone who seperated her "children" from her so he remained rooted to his spot as the male leaned back into a comfortable sitting position.

"I can take him in. He's still a little squirt so Guru can feed him since my kids were born recently. After he grows strong enough, he can learn to find food for himself. The hell's his name anyways?" Pincher rumbled as he scooted a little closer with his short tail gently wagging in curiosity as he noticed the name. Roma. What an odd name though Pincher couldn't really judge as the doberman simply glanced away, trying to not appear interested though deep down his exterior, he wanted the child.

MADI · « **Reply #5 on:** April 26, 2018, 08:35:46 PM »

ROMAN

Perhaps there was something to be said for the innate understanding that a child could be born with. Roman could not see or hear, was utterly defenseless, but there was the prominent sense of something out there. With no frame of consciousness, no true cognitive capabilities, there was no way for him to understand that he was sensing those around him, sensing the pirates as they came near him. That he simply knew that this first brush of warmth was caring and motherly and good in a way, just as he knew that there was a shattered darkness lingering under the surface as well. His young mind did not comprehend the complexity of her aura (something he would grow to recognize as the source of these hunches, these "senses"), but on a base left he felt oddly comforted by her sudden presence. The soft whimpers faded, dying in his throat as her low voice washed over him. He did not hear her, his tiny ears still folded down, but he reacted as if he had.

There were others there, he knew on a subconscious level; there was solid and steady, the initiation impressions of one presence, and then there was... darkness. Not quite resolute darkness, but it felt like a dark cloud drifting over the group, and yet it was not alarming. It felt almost familiar, in an odd way; as if he were used to the shadows, the darkness, as if something in his tiny heart reached out to the dark energy there just as readily as it swooned over the tender care radiating from the others. (How long would it be until he finally recognized the warring desires of his heart? The drive for chaos that consumed him just as readily as the need for love?)

Really, it could be either irony or fate that brought him here, to their doorstep. Venus' own precious child, he could be nothing but beautiful: golden, glistening, a marble prince brought to life; and, ironically, that beautiful nature would draw in what could possibly be one of the greatest combinations of love and chaos, aside from his own father. With time, he would grow to recognize that Pincher cared for him; but that caring and love was chaotic, buried deep within a chaotic, messy heart that knew nothing of soft words and gentle parenting. Perhaps Venus had chosen this group of pirates for more than just the water; perhaps she had known, in her ever-certain way, that his perfect match was waiting. That his dual-nature would blossom and twist here, where the grey-area was much more prevalent than black or white. (A gray-area that his father would have thrived in, that Roman could only feel naturally at home in.) Perhaps it was all fated by the gods.

He had no way on knowing that, though. All he felt were the faintest impressions of someone new, of complexity and restraint, as his fate was decided by these strangers.

LUCIFERR · « **Reply #6 on:** May 01, 2018, 07:13:27 PM »

Hymn of Ruin

LUCIFER GRIMM — TYPHOON — STRIKER — VERY DIFFICULT

Pincher's voice brought the giant dragon from staring down at the two before him - erstwhile daughter in law and the small ward of the typhoon now - one calm silver and one baleful red eye shifting to land on their illustrious leader, to which he dipped his head to in acknowledgement.

"Roman, as Argus said" he gave answer before turning his head back to the golden child - there was a familiarity there and a likening to his mother's own traits oh so long ago, the long dead or missing mother of chaos - ah how pantheons collided here in these lands where many gods seemed to roam.

"sensible solution" he agreed with Pincher - if anything the dark dragon would still be a quasi parental figure, if only because he tended to do so to the entire typhoon at some point - simply his nature at this rate.

#psychosocial.