05-16-2018, 12:20 AM
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SOMEBODY SHOWED YOU ALL OF THE HORROR-
YOU WEREN'T BORN WITH IT!
[W]iskerSOMEBODY SHOWED YOU ALL OF THE HORROR-
YOU WEREN'T BORN WITH IT!
[div style="background-color:#BG COLOR;width:90%; overflow: stretch;text-align: justify; font-size: 8pt;"] Argus was coy. Amung the sands of the desert when she had much to fear from starving in the sands- she had learned the trade of manipulation well. Maybe it was not truly important until later in her life. Bartering her own clan for tastes of revenge. Giving away any home she had allowed and brokered a devil deal for the downfall and corruption of her home. Once upon a time, there was a beast made of ashen fur who saw a clan made of lies and saw fit to join them, to show the world it's fatal folly for putting such fallacies onto this earth. Once upon a time Argus was a beast made of some broken justice. Blinded behind pale ivory paws and a kid- her kid whispering in her ear his dying breath.
Now manipulation was part of her nature, toying with her enemies and friends like common fooder. Maybe in certain aspects she was slowly detaching herself from this world. Maybe it was why she clung so fiercely to the little attachments she had left with this world. Sinking her teeth, fangs deep under the skin of her allies and holding on until it broke under her paws. Until each mortal that was her's was left with claw marks. Everything precious marked in red- in r u i n
As much as argus would like to deny it, it is in her nature. To cling, to manipulate. A family leaving her unsatisfied, and the ones she had made for herself only bloody corpses in the dirt. It was no wonder why she clung so harshly. Living in the sands, brawling with her 'clanmates' and swimming through lies and betrayal. It was no wonder she wanted to contort everyone to feel the same as her. to cling her her just as fierce.
That was her danger. Not the near immortality nor the demon touched gift that created shadows along her paws. But her want to bring Mortals to her own will, to drag down immortals and rip out their vulnerability. To create monsters was second nature of a monster. The tortured turning into the torturer. The damaged only giving more damage.
The brawler brawling.
Argus felt her own irritation snap into clear hostility at the word. Girl. Argus has never tolerated herself to be subjugated in such a way- treated like something fragile and delicate. She was crafted in the sands of a desert, chipped and broken and raw and this war-torn brute saw fit to look upon the scars that litter her and call her something so low. A snarl escaped her throat. All amusement and humored challenge brake into something dark and savage.
A monster, removing it's mask.
"Do not look upon me and pretend to know me Tarook" Garu fell from her maws in a declaration. The old language made under the light of the moon, whispered only in the ears of demons feel from her maw as if it were her first language. Accent making consonants thick her mind blissfully blank to the consequences she would surly face- her only thoughts directing towards the other's strength and determining the best way to bring him to his knees. Make this quick. Make him suffer. She was creating a time frame that she usually visited and being too late would draw suspicion.
Like all good things. It was their nature a natural born instinct that could never be changed. Ina world of the unchanged, argus thought it fit to attempt to change herself. She was too stubborn to admit her wrongs. Too scared to and too emotion to let herself give in to the nature of Obscurity.
She made a duck closer, predicating a quick strong slap to push her back. Left wing propelling her back word- edges of her flight feathers pushing up snow into the other's face to hopefully obscure his sight as she quickly backed out of his range. Her feet light and silent as she twisted- her iron claws aiming to rip through the tendon of one of his front paws- or at least hit it harsh enough to send him to his knees.
"My business here is my own. You would do best not to concern yourself with the unfinished business of the dead." Because that was what this was, wasn't it? Because in the end argus was in a body a living breathing body but she was dead. She has been dead for so very long it was a wonder she remembered what it was like to live. She was here to carry out her own unfinished business, or maybe make amends with the ghosts she has spat upon that horrid night. Make amends with the child that died in her arms.
This brawler had no right to stop her. But she had every right to stop him.
/aaa, no worries! Hope you don't mind muse overloard
Now manipulation was part of her nature, toying with her enemies and friends like common fooder. Maybe in certain aspects she was slowly detaching herself from this world. Maybe it was why she clung so fiercely to the little attachments she had left with this world. Sinking her teeth, fangs deep under the skin of her allies and holding on until it broke under her paws. Until each mortal that was her's was left with claw marks. Everything precious marked in red- in r u i n
As much as argus would like to deny it, it is in her nature. To cling, to manipulate. A family leaving her unsatisfied, and the ones she had made for herself only bloody corpses in the dirt. It was no wonder why she clung so harshly. Living in the sands, brawling with her 'clanmates' and swimming through lies and betrayal. It was no wonder she wanted to contort everyone to feel the same as her. to cling her her just as fierce.
That was her danger. Not the near immortality nor the demon touched gift that created shadows along her paws. But her want to bring Mortals to her own will, to drag down immortals and rip out their vulnerability. To create monsters was second nature of a monster. The tortured turning into the torturer. The damaged only giving more damage.
The brawler brawling.
Argus felt her own irritation snap into clear hostility at the word. Girl. Argus has never tolerated herself to be subjugated in such a way- treated like something fragile and delicate. She was crafted in the sands of a desert, chipped and broken and raw and this war-torn brute saw fit to look upon the scars that litter her and call her something so low. A snarl escaped her throat. All amusement and humored challenge brake into something dark and savage.
A monster, removing it's mask.
"Do not look upon me and pretend to know me Tarook" Garu fell from her maws in a declaration. The old language made under the light of the moon, whispered only in the ears of demons feel from her maw as if it were her first language. Accent making consonants thick her mind blissfully blank to the consequences she would surly face- her only thoughts directing towards the other's strength and determining the best way to bring him to his knees. Make this quick. Make him suffer. She was creating a time frame that she usually visited and being too late would draw suspicion.
Like all good things. It was their nature a natural born instinct that could never be changed. Ina world of the unchanged, argus thought it fit to attempt to change herself. She was too stubborn to admit her wrongs. Too scared to and too emotion to let herself give in to the nature of Obscurity.
She made a duck closer, predicating a quick strong slap to push her back. Left wing propelling her back word- edges of her flight feathers pushing up snow into the other's face to hopefully obscure his sight as she quickly backed out of his range. Her feet light and silent as she twisted- her iron claws aiming to rip through the tendon of one of his front paws- or at least hit it harsh enough to send him to his knees.
"My business here is my own. You would do best not to concern yourself with the unfinished business of the dead." Because that was what this was, wasn't it? Because in the end argus was in a body a living breathing body but she was dead. She has been dead for so very long it was a wonder she remembered what it was like to live. She was here to carry out her own unfinished business, or maybe make amends with the ghosts she has spat upon that horrid night. Make amends with the child that died in her arms.
This brawler had no right to stop her. But she had every right to stop him.
/aaa, no worries! Hope you don't mind muse overloard