08-21-2018, 06:10 PM
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TYPHOON
NECRO MAMBAS
HEAD SOOTHSAYER
NECRO MAMBAS
HEAD SOOTHSAYER
[div style="width: px; font-family: GEORGIA; color: #422426; text-align: left; padding-top: 15px; padding-left: 10px"][align=center]ARE YOU GOOD WITH CHAOS ?!
She breathed out a small sigh as he complied; she never liked fighting people when it came to their health, especially when that meant they only prolonged the inevitable and made her job harder if the wounds festered. As he settled into a comfortable position and started answering her, she nodded though she doubted he saw the body language - he seemed content to look at her paws, and she quickly noticed the strong embarrassment in his aura continued to spread. Her smaller pair of eyes narrowed skeptically as she anticipated some odd, stupid story about how he got his injuries; as a healer, she saw plenty of people who injured themselves in the dumbest possible ways, so she doubted he actually needed to bother feeling embarrassed over his predicament.
Taking out a flask of water, she uncorked it and propped the item up against her satchel. With a flick of her paw, the contents came out in one great stream to form two bubbles around each of her forepaws, their surfaces shimmering with reflected light and their wavering surface tension. As he continued, she settled her paws to hover above his back, breathing slowly and steadily to control her magic with the precise control. The cool water permeated his wounds, gently clearing gaping flesh of dirt and other particle debris. But, in an instant, she lost control of her magic as shock rippled through her mind - causing the water to turn to ice, and the effect caused an accidental attempt to freeze his wounds and force the weeping pink blood from the wounds to clot with the decreased temperature.
Her mind felt as though someone yanked the power cord out before shoving it back in for a manual reset. She never encountered a masochist before - well, nobody ever admitted themselves to hold masochistic tendencies around her - and to know Luca... by his own admission...! She took a deep breath, forcing her magic to cooperate and turn the ice back into useful floating blobs of water. "I'm sorry, but... did you just say you were... a masochist?" she breathed, her voice shaky and unsteady; for once, her apathetic tone and cold demeanor broke from the flood of unexpected surprise in her mind.
But the surprise quickly turned to excitement, her toes of her forepaws twitching and curling with the energy as new and forbidden thoughts flashed across her mind. "I've never - I thought - I am," she spoke, her voice thrumming with sudden bursts of intensity, though even her voice couldn't keep up with the frantic pulse of her mind. As evident to how she started three different sentences, but couldn't manage to finish any of them as she kept cutting herself off. Her heartrate continued to accelerate as the door she locked her sadism within shattered, and she fought the urge to laugh with hysteria - she didn't need the demon to think she was a crazy witch, though in all honesty... she knew she was. And what insane witch turned down the opportunity to leash a demon?
"I'm a sadist," she breathed out, finally capable of forming a coherent sentence. She tried to ignore her rising darkness and the steady drum-drum of her heart to keep a rational head while she made her offer. "Any wound I give you, I can heal. You wouldn't need to wander around the jungle with half-festered wounds until a medic takes notice," she spoke, her question unspoken and concealed behind the safety of syntax. She didn't feel confident enough in her sadism, in her darkness, to know how to deal with this kind of situation. But she knew how to talk about wounds, so she stuck with what she knew.
[ lol what are his actual scratches / wounds and are any deep enough to need stitches or more intensive treatment? ]
[/td][/tr][/table]Taking out a flask of water, she uncorked it and propped the item up against her satchel. With a flick of her paw, the contents came out in one great stream to form two bubbles around each of her forepaws, their surfaces shimmering with reflected light and their wavering surface tension. As he continued, she settled her paws to hover above his back, breathing slowly and steadily to control her magic with the precise control. The cool water permeated his wounds, gently clearing gaping flesh of dirt and other particle debris. But, in an instant, she lost control of her magic as shock rippled through her mind - causing the water to turn to ice, and the effect caused an accidental attempt to freeze his wounds and force the weeping pink blood from the wounds to clot with the decreased temperature.
Her mind felt as though someone yanked the power cord out before shoving it back in for a manual reset. She never encountered a masochist before - well, nobody ever admitted themselves to hold masochistic tendencies around her - and to know Luca... by his own admission...! She took a deep breath, forcing her magic to cooperate and turn the ice back into useful floating blobs of water. "I'm sorry, but... did you just say you were... a masochist?" she breathed, her voice shaky and unsteady; for once, her apathetic tone and cold demeanor broke from the flood of unexpected surprise in her mind.
But the surprise quickly turned to excitement, her toes of her forepaws twitching and curling with the energy as new and forbidden thoughts flashed across her mind. "I've never - I thought - I am," she spoke, her voice thrumming with sudden bursts of intensity, though even her voice couldn't keep up with the frantic pulse of her mind. As evident to how she started three different sentences, but couldn't manage to finish any of them as she kept cutting herself off. Her heartrate continued to accelerate as the door she locked her sadism within shattered, and she fought the urge to laugh with hysteria - she didn't need the demon to think she was a crazy witch, though in all honesty... she knew she was. And what insane witch turned down the opportunity to leash a demon?
"I'm a sadist," she breathed out, finally capable of forming a coherent sentence. She tried to ignore her rising darkness and the steady drum-drum of her heart to keep a rational head while she made her offer. "Any wound I give you, I can heal. You wouldn't need to wander around the jungle with half-festered wounds until a medic takes notice," she spoke, her question unspoken and concealed behind the safety of syntax. She didn't feel confident enough in her sadism, in her darkness, to know how to deal with this kind of situation. But she knew how to talk about wounds, so she stuck with what she knew.
[ lol what are his actual scratches / wounds and are any deep enough to need stitches or more intensive treatment? ]
© MADI
I FEEL SO HUNGRY —
— Dear diary, I don't know what's going on, but something's up / The dog won't stop barking, and I think my TV is bust / Every channel is the same, it's sending me insane / And earlier somebody bit me, what a fucking day / The sky is falling / It's fucking boring / I'm going braindead, isolated / God is a shithead / And we're his rejects / Traumatized for breakfast / I can't stomach any more survival horror / Dear diary, I feel itchy like there's bugs under my skin / The dog's gone rabid (shut the fuck up) / Doing my head in —— WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING?