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the new kings // "joining" - Printable Version

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the new kings // "joining" - PHOENIX - 01-20-2019

[align=center][div style="borderwidth=0px; width: 55%; text-align: justify;"] Fate was a fickle mistress, was she not? This was certainly a situation she had never foreseen; body in ashes at her feet, or the closest thing to "feet" she had now as they hovered from the ground. A ghost, a revenant, a lich wandering the earth in desperation to find a new host before her ethereal form faded from the world of the material. The remains of what was once her body blew away in the wind, shifting over the lifeless bodies of her companions. They died. Eternity was something she pondered, but she knew it was not something that would pass in a body of flesh. Everybody died. But their time wasn't supposed to be so soon, so sudden. She would find a way to get them back. She would bring them back to the world of the living if it meant sacrificing her own self, but there would be no bringing them back if she could not anchor herself in this world first. Her form was fading quickly, however. With her tethers to this world dead, she was shifting into nothingness as her soul was too corrupted to truly pass on. It had to be destroyed to preserve the laws of life and death.

A sickly wolf-like creature would be her respite. It was leaned against the trunk of aged oak, gnarled wood and outstretched branches providing adequate shade for the ill canid. Its chest rose and fell in heavy, labored breaths. It was dying. But even one day alive again would be beneficial. As she entered its body, as she gently pushed its tired soul from its withering body, the spirit of the animal faded with peace and content. She had possessed this body, pushing out its resident soul, but as its pain became her own she quickly understood why the afterlife was a pleasure to the wolf rather than something it fled from like she herself did. Her lungs ached, her legs too weak to stand, her insides churned as she was consumed inside out. Parasites, if she had to guess. The taste of iron coated her tongue and throat, not an unfamiliar taste but she could not place exactly where she had tasted it before. She'd been in her handful of fights, gums and nose bloody, but she could not recall faces or reasons as to why, which was... odd. She could have sworn she had got defensive about her - ... it wouldn't come to mind. Like a word on the tip of ones tongue or a memory of young childhood, it had an air of familiarity to it but she was entirely unable to recollect it.

A scrawny maned wolf rested in a heap beneath a burly tree many meters into Sunhaven's lands, eyebrows drawn tight together in concentration as a thin line of blood leaked from the right side of her jaw. Nameless, lost, confused, dying - what kind of fucking situation had she put herself into?


Re: the new kings // "joining" - REBECCA MACK - 01-20-2019

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SUNHAVEN — HELION — FEMALE — BORDER COLLIE — PLAYED BY KICKSIE !

[div style="text-align: justify; width: 50%; font-family: georgia; font-size: 11pt; letter-spacing: -1px; margin-top: -15px; cursor: url(http://www.rw-designer.com/cursor-extern.php?id=93245), auto;"]Bex had little recollection of what her transformation from human to canine was like. It had happened all too quickly. One moment, she was a woman who had finally got her life together, then she woke up. She opened her eyes, and she was somewhere else. She was also someone else, having taken the form of a border collie. That's who she was now, and it seemed she would be stuck like this forever. While she missed her old home, her old family, her old life, she had managed to somehow find solace in this place called Sunhaven. It was a bittersweet feeling to experience, both good and bad, and more than anything else - confusing. Being thrown into an entirely new world and joining a group where she had somehow become the leader of was by far the most confusing adventure that Bex had ever experienced, and she had been through her fair share of 'adventures' throughout her life. Most of them usually being entirely her fault as results of her reckless and impulsive behaviors, but her experiences in Sunhaven so far seemed to exist only in the hands of the universe. She had lost control, and now was rolling with the punches, and making things up as she went along. Oddly enough, she was content with it. There was a sort of peace that it brought that Bex had never felt much at all before, and it was comforting.

The collie was taking a stroll through the mountainous territory, enjoying that peaceful feeling that she had come to know recently. She was trying to locate and pick berries as part of a weekly task that she had received, but not having a clue as to where to look, she was not having much luck. Part of her also felt the lack of desire to find the fruit purely because she knew that if she had found some she would have to pick them, and knowing her luck she would accidentally grab some sort of poisonous berries or ones with thorns. She wasn't great with plants, in fact, she was terrible with them. She knew nothing about how to care for them, which were good and which were bad, and tended to accidentally murder them. Why did I agree to do this agai- Her thoughts were interrupted by a bark, seeming to sound like a call for help. Instinctively, Bex turned toward the sound and began to sprint off towards it, tail held low to the ground with unease. A worried feeling jabbed at her stomach as thoughts of possible scenarios began to whirl through her mind. What if the Pitt was at it again, and had hurt someone? Or even worse...

Bex shook her head. No, it was best not to worry until she arrived. That was not like her, to worry before seeing the situation as it really was and jumping to conclusions. That was more like her mother, and well, she didn't want to become her mother no matter how much being a leader seemed to call for it. Soon enough the helion had reached the location of which the bark was sounded, now experiencing the situation for herself instead of focusing on the many worrisome thoughts in her head. It wasn't at all what she was expecting as she moved past Dante, the one who appeared to have barked, and rested her widened gaze upon the sickly red wolf whom lied beneath a tree. Bex didn't recognize the canine, and was more than certain that they weren't apart of Sunhaven. Even so, the woman was far too concerned to care. The subject of whether to trust someone or not wasn't something to debate over in the time of a crisis such as this. As she laid her eyes on the maned wolf she felt her ears pin back and her heart ached. She hated seeing others like this - sickly and hurt, and close to death.

While she was no healer of any kind and couldn't do much, Bex still desired to help in any way that she possibly could. She reached at her leather jacket to quickly remove it, and neared close to the wolf so that she was by its side, gently laying the jacket on top of the wolf as if it were a blanket. Bex knew it probably wouldn't help that much, but at least it was something. Trying to do something was better than not doing anything at all. And while Bex's jacket was something that was rather precious to her, she supposed that she could wash it once all was said and done. It wasn't the time to worry about that yet though, as this canine needed help and needed it soon. She didn't look good at all, lying there sickly and pale, likely freezing to death. Bex had now attempted to warm her up, and now she turned toward Dante to ask them of something. "Hey, do you think you could find Venus and lead her here?" Venus was their only solbinder, so naturally she was the only one that Bex could think of to come to their aid. And something was prompting Bex to stay, so she didn't want to fetch the medic herself. So she stayed, and continued to look down at the wolf, softly whispering, "We're going to help you... it'll be okay."


Re: the new kings // "joining" - PHOENIX - 01-21-2019

[align=center][div style="borderwidth=0px; width: 55%; text-align: justify;"] It seemed her brief queries of the ephemera of life would be catching up with her sooner rather than later. Death was here to greet her once more, metaphysically, as a guardian of the underworld was the first to enter her vision. How humorous, with gratuitous sarcasm. She evaded any sort of reaper as a lich, but now bound once more in a flesh body, a three-headed beast peered at her like an easy meal. Survival of the fittest and all, but she would be the one with the last laugh when this body's parasites or worms or whatever the fuck was decaying a live body took over their body next. A morbid victory, and really not one she should even be considering as she continued to observe the canid-like creature through a pain-narrowed gaze. They looked quite young. Had she the strength, she might have mustered a bark or a growl in whatever feral language she could now tap into, but protecting the dignity of a dying body she had only recently laid claim to was not high on her priorities. A chuckle sat in her throat, but without the effort of releasing it, she simply swallowed it back. Finding dry humor, little victories, brief satisfaction, in her own death was a unique quality at the least.

Her thick white tail swished across the winter grounds of its own accord, an action that briefly stilled her heaving lungs and pulled her watery eyes open. Of the heavy sense of nostalgia soaking into her bones, that was certainly a new sensation, a whitecap on an otherwise still lake. She had an entirely new appendage. She never foresaw herself falling into the shoes of a druid, trying to slip into nature and assimilate into its ways. Fire was her very core, destruction not a craving but a necessity. She was supposed to be a pyromancer, not some sort of fucking dog. A slender leg withdrew to gingerly lift a paw from the ground, sundrop eyes turning downward to stare at the unfamiliar extension of her new body. Despite her unblinking stare and admittedly weak concentration, fire did not circle her hand and pool in her palms. Not that she exactly had hands to summon it with anymore. Hell, for that matter, it didn't appear at all; in hand, paw, or otherwise. A shiver rattled her frame, somewhere between a visceral reaction to the realization and instinctual of her illness.

At the sound of approaching footfall, reddened ears would twitch involuntarily. A companion to the beast. Amber eyes flicked up from her paw to fall on a much softer sight. A collie was not exactly what she had in mind to be following behind a cerberus. Fearlessly, at that, as if they were acquainted. Wordlessly she watched Bex approach her, body too tense prior to show any signs of discomfort as she grew excruciatingly close. For a brief moment she considered what her exit of this body would be like - flipping a pair of spectral middle fingers at nature for letting the strong prey upon the - prey on her (she was not weak). But once more the lady of fate had other plans for her today. Sharp teeth did not part her flesh but instead gently blanketed her with leather, still warm with the heat of another body. Words followed suit, and although she should not be taken by surprise it given it was a tongue she could now speak, she was expecting something much more feral by a flash of teeth and tongue. She was expecting to be attacked, rather than spoken to. The name Venus was not one she recognized, although trying to recall it pressed at the dull ache in the back of her head. The collie's attention turned back to her and immediately she was enraptured, meeting Bex's gaze evenly. Her eyes were warm with concern, something she had never seen before in an animal. Or maybe she had just never noticed it before. Animals had always been lesser beings before, not ones she could openly commune with.

Her jaws parted to answer, but instead of words, black smog fell from her lips like drool. Her throat closed at the sudden sensation to be replaced with a deep cough, throwing her paws forward as the coughing fit shook her body. Drops of blood flew from her mouth as she did so, dotting the snow in front of her. "Ow, fuck," she croaked out, a brief shine of old habits even as her corporeal form worked actively against her. If her lungs weren't reeling from the sudden effort she would laugh at her first impression: cursing, blood and smoke leaking from between her teeth, hardly a welcomed traveler, huh? So she couldn't conjure flames to her - hands? feet? paws? Whatever they were. But she had enough energy to choke herself with smoke. Fantastic. Craning her head upward at Bex, she flashed a sheepish smile somewhere between an unspoken greeting and apology. She sat hunched over for a few more heartbeats, drawing in raspy breaths to soothe her badly aching lungs. Unsure whether she wanted to collapse into the snow just yet or not, she instead shifted her shoulders to draw the jacket further up on her back and flicked her gaze up to Bex and away from the flecks of red in the snow.

"S'all... peachy, ya'know?" First off, ew, her voice was radically different from what she had been expecting. For longer than this body had even been alive, longer than its parents lives, she had known a particular sound to belong to her. That had died with her body, unfortunately. Secondly, although a blatant lie told through heavily slurred words, she hoped her antic offered some respite to the girl fretting over her. She had nothing else to offer but even some sort of insight into this situation. She had no name she could give: her name had been replaced by a blinding headache. She could not offer her history, afraid of confirmations to the deaths of those she treasured (their names, in turn, fed the same headache consuming her own personal information). She could no longer conjure fire at will, unable to part from her lich form to summon as a burning plasma. No, she needed that energy too much right now. Before she keeled over she might as well offer a golden star with a comic sans "you tried" photoshopped over it. "Just lookin' for... Honestly? I dunno. Death sounds pr-eeeetty rad right about now." Her tongue was no longer twisted around itself, able to form coherent words, despite the fervent protest of her sore throat. The perfect time for classic self-deprecating humor, if there was any. "But 'm not gonna turn down a bed and some hot soup, either, babe."