YOU SHOULD SEE ME IN A CROWN && abandoned fawn.

[miss ririchiyo]

coma baby

PERSEPHONE — FEMME — SUNHAVEN —  DAWNGUARD — 5 M/O

Persephone didn't know how she got here. She remembered snow, something about snow? And red, yeah.. Lots of red, but she never bothered to investigate it. They told her to run, someone told her to run. So she did, as far away as she could, before she had found a place where she could shelter herself. A shelter in a broken down, ruined shrine that seemed too familiar to her, but she didn't know how. She felt like she had been here before, been in this exact place, and that wasn't always the best thing for someone like her. She was a prey animal, she could be eaten here and die, like the average fawn did when they ventured too far from their herd. She should have died, and maybe she will now.

This place filled her with a sense of deja vu, and as the wobbly-legged fawn made her way over to the shrine, piercing blue eyes peered across the place which someone had obviously wrecked havoc upon. She saw blood, she could see the sticky redness on the steps of the shrine, someone must have died here. Why did this place bother her?

Run, run child.

That voice again, the one whom had called to her when she saw all of this red and sticky stuff last time. A few days ago, right? She couldn't really understand much right now, but that voice was so soothing. Speaking of voices, the deer let out a soft whine, carrying herself unsteadily up the steps of the shrine, laying her head against a broken podium which was obviously used for some sort of offering. She was hungry, she noticed.

Where was she anyways?

Will they ever come back for her?

This would have never happened when she ruled beside Hades, she knew. He would kept her safe. Both him and her mother Demeter would have.

But look where she got herself now? She was stuck in this body, and her personality had taken much more of a shift now.

She had to find a way to get back to the Underworld with her husband, she needed to see Hades again.

But first.. Rest. She needed rest.

#psychosocial.

WITH YOUR SICK HEAD

tags :: updated 9/25:

basics.
✯ persephone ishayu-aeris-winchester // pers, persey.
✯ female // she/her
✯ 5 months // mentally young // spiritually mature
✯ dawnguard of sunhaven
✯ no titles // unofficial titles
✯ still retains the memories of her past as a goddess, reincarnates every time her physical body dies but doesnt remember those lives before.

appearance.
✯ Deerling [ref]
✯ pelt - Short coat, basked in soft reds.
✯ eyes - Blue eye with cross pupils.
✯ accessories - Wears belt around her waist that holds her daggers and necessities.
✯ scars/marks/tattoos - She has a scar across her belly and back that she doesn't remember how she got. She has a flower marking on her throat.
✯ accent - Elegant, regal accent.

relationships.
✯ trusts buckingham, mama ishayu, gordon.
✯ scared of monroe
✯ no mentor/apprentice
✯ previously [G2] dean winchester xx npc
✯ currently [G2] npc x npc
✯ sibling to perseus (m) and apollo (m)
✯ hyperpanromantic // demipansexual
✯ single // no crush
✯ no offspring

interaction.
✯ storage // plot
✯ physically average // mentally hard // telekinesis
✯ attack in UNDERLINE

[guts]

The smell of blood hit her nose. Her eyes narrowed, pupils dilating as her breath hitched, coming out in heavy huffs. It was hard to resist the urge to hunt the source down, to find the animal and kill it, devour it like her instincts told her. She tried to ignore them, she really did, her whole body tensing and teeth grinding together. It was too much, too strong; she was too weak. Her brain clouded, reverted back to that state she had loathed being in so much.

The she-wolf's body moved on it's own accord, paws leading her wherever they wanted, and this time it was right to where the scent led. Spit trailed down her chin, canines glistening as she closed in on her prey. She couldn't tell if they were injured or not, but it barely registered in her mind--she'd attack whether they were near death or not. She would win.

Muscles flexing under her coat, Ymir mindlessly charged forward, bursting from the foliage and making a bee-line for the fawn. Kill, eat. Kill, eat.

"speech"

[toboggan]

"Don’t you dare!" the wolverine exclaimed tensely, bang to rights witnessing an unacquainted wolf, one that carried Sunhaven’s scent, about a scarf down a fawn for a light snack. To that, he charged in, and attempted to throw off Ymir’s keenness on ending the baby deer’s existence. Why Wendell intervened, it wasn’t exactly clear as crystal. It wasn’t that he was against the hunting and consuming of other animals (it was in his blood to do exactly so). Was it savage to kill an infant? Maybe so, though if it was for feasting upon, contrary to merely killing a child for the joy of sadism, it was completely justifiable in his eyes. Nay, hunting a youngster had nothing to do with his choice. It was who the youngster appeared to be. The yearling egressed a certain quality, one that tasted sharply of familiarity. It implied insanity to prevent someone much larger than you from fulfilling their intentions, and perhaps Wendell was insane, but he was not going to allow the death of someone he potentially knew, regardless of it being a past-life recognition or not. ”This one looks to be more in need of saving than eating, right?”.

Optimistically, his argument wouldn’t do Ymir’s nut too badly - but if it did, he may have found himself in a heap of tribulation.