10-22-2018, 09:09 PM
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IT'S A WICKED TWISTED FABLE
IT'S A WICKED TWISTED FABLE
oof, hope you guys done't mind the muse going on ^^"///
It's ironic, isn't it? That a death God has died. That you have to die- to become one. But they are not really gods, and they are not really dead either. Messengers, Messengers the all of them. Not the result, not the cause of, nothing but animals trying to keep balance. Like dams holding the water in, eventually it has to break. Eventually the dam will fall. Like any good government does, Argus has walked this earth plane five years, and wolves generally live a great deal of time, mind you, but in this occupation so close to death the both of them, it is no wonder that they would ever grow old, a wonder that they will live past even their childhood. But here they both are, Messengers of death and still living- still here despite of it. It's a testament to their will, even the Grimm faced ones such as they, who picked up the lost souls of murders and bloodbaths of ghosts crying- realizing that no one can see them, up until the moment that few- that they can. Whisper- Argus never paid them any mind, when she was a kid, when little. Because she paid nothing mind. And sometimes, they would gravitate towards the stronger ones and maybe just itch for a little taste if that power. When she was little, she was taught to follow that pull, ambition. The kind where you killed for power, ruthlessly climbing the later- ambition, was encouraged, in her wayward home blood run near constantly and screams never ceased. Breeding enemies and ruthless child soldiers- Argus was just another into the fold. Argus had a run in with Ichigo before her death, young and observant as she was, watched him move aside as ghosts drift and knew he was the same. But they weren't, not really. One small aspect was not enough to excuse their friendship, but even then Argus had stuck close to the cougar. Close to his friends and his home and his people. It was like listening to music, without really being able to craft such a sound. Their happiness, the unabashed closeness that the group formed. Argus selfishly clung to the group- to ichigo and his friends and the aviary that they had lived in. To the warmth that argus never once found deep in the desert from where she was raised. Argus remember it vividly, training alongside them her spirit while learning how to kill- how to take jobs for higher just alongside it. Rukia and toshiro and brief glimpses of another cougar- smaller- a sister perhaps? She forgot the name but- There was history there- history that was comforting as just as it was frightening. Here in this month so far from home argus wanted to cling to it again. To grasp and pull and never let go, but the attachment to people, their attachment to the dead would always remain- just another habit of theirs- and maybe it was time to let go.
There is no deniability to it either, Ichigo's soul has always been bright to her from the seconds she could ever see it. Blue hellfire licks around the other’s form and crackle in a way that is soundless but radiant, bright despite the the murky red that seems to pool around the outline and wisps of black that fog around. It reaches out, and from here it is too tempting to just let her own control slip for a second and press deeper- let her mind crack deeper than what the aura can reveal and walk through the other’s own paws. Feel the ache in his bones and soul deep loneliness that is so alike to hers.
All ten eyes shot to the cougar, her name uttered- it wasn’t seen. Behind the curve of a bone white mask the lids of her eyes widened. Pure white tail dragging around her hind leg- a false sense of security and a first time to allow her body to move without being under control. But this month made those lines of control and controlled so very fuzzy. This month she let down the impossible barriers, let the secrets loosen around her neck and breathe. This month only, argus allowed herself to be someone else- and he had to come ruin that. It was instinctual to be angry and afraid. The shock in his voice was easy to turn either way- was he happy to see her? Was he upset, between the lilac cloak a clawed hand came to a stop just under her throat, palming where once a giant gaping hole once was. So much uncertainty shimmers underneath their form, and parts of them seethe in automatic threat that emotional turmoil use to entail. So long argus is used to shutting down that part of themselves - in their youth, in their adult years- in their entire life. Only recently- a few months had they allowed themselves to hope for something again. For a brighter future, and history took it’s sweet time to rear it’s ugly head. Few moments argus feels a smile twist onto their features that is entirely cruel and bloodthirsty that is barely seen behind the serrated edges of mask’s fragmented edges. The urge to laugh, explain with great detail their own animosity towards the cougar- towards everything that he gave her and everything that was twisted wrong. A way to make up for killing when she couldn’t stop the urges turned into a way for power- and a crack that madness took root into- was all his fault. She could blame him so easily, and for the longest time she has done nothing but blame her past and what’s she’s done on the only survivor that she cannot formulate the heart to shovel that blame onto someone else. But argus, largely unapologetic and unashamed- here and now does not flinch at her name, and when Ichigo does nothing to falter in unabashed shock all ten eyes narrow to focus on his from- his eyes his emotions one final second before she breaks the contact all together. Dismissing him unless he has some here to buy something or gods forbid- say something like sorry. If he did that argus has very little thought to showing just how unapologetic she is.
She does not turn her tumultuous thoughts into darker things. Does not attempt to think about how she has wronged the memory of this cougar before her. Does not think of Hecate and Littlestar and Kanito and Zactov. Does not think what each of these names mean to her- for her. Dark thoughts and already on a slight set of Adrenalin does not bode well for others safety, and in the light of day she would rather not go on a rampage just as quickly as their name was uttered. It was logical- just the right amount that she actually listened to it, turning away from the other god, and turned to the reward for such endeavors patience.
The stranger is a gryphon, the red of his feathers makes an instant knowledge fill- a subspecies of more hawk- than eagle it seemed. Thinner creatures of prey but just as vicious as their cousins. Does not bother to smile towards the other when it is even hard to notice they are talking with the mask in place- instead they nod slightly, letting out a low hum that sounds more like a growl with their lower pitch of voice. Satchel and something to weaponize those wings? She has a few ideas already in mind, pulling out a smaller satchel from behind the three medical books she had on acupuncture. Flipping open the bag she let what was inside shine, a few hundred silver push pin cushions.” if you are looking to weaponize those wings there, here is something that is easily concealed and just as lethal. After preaning you would spread these- point side outward in your wings and tuck them back in. When your ready to attack, simply flick the joints of your wings and they’ll fly out. Similar to like a porcupine but more lethal if you aim it right.” The dragon explains, setting the small needle along the knuckle of their joint above their claw. She flexes her wrist lightly, giving show of tensing her claw downard to point at the ground. Where the pin was settled along her knuckle suddenly shoots out and sticks onto the top book of the pile. She makes show of pulling the needle out- not deep enough into the book to become a hassle- before tucking it back into the bag.”If you make a good enough deal I’ll even throw in the anatomy book on top that’ll teach you where to hit. Hmm?” She returns to a light hum, this time inquisitive and doting like any good shopkeeper would be.
Ward is next, the smaller form of the other makes it easier to see the set frown on the merchant’s maw as they direct their attention- all ten eyes turn intensely towards them. Books and.. Spices? “color=#add8e6] I have a few herbs that add an interesting flavor to any meal, though it depends on what kind of spices you're looking for.[/color]” she pulls three small pots towards the other. Rosemary, garlic, and rosemary. Lists them in order - “ Good with meats, and herbal tea. Might smell bad but works like salt in a pinch and cures stomach aches. And this one is actually nutty- just be careful how much you use.” She nods, satisfied with the plants before she taps the same pile of books that were just subjected to becoming push pun plush. The top is acupuncture, second one down is for smithing, and the last one down is the thickest one- modern medicine mixes and herbology.
This- trading, selling bartering. Is enough to help bring her down whatever she almost would have done alone. Or rather- almost alone. Ichigo seems old and weary and just the perfect kind of prey that she wants to rip apart. But around a crowd it’s easier to distract herself with them, easier to pretend to be normal despite it all.
It's ironic, isn't it? That a death God has died. That you have to die- to become one. But they are not really gods, and they are not really dead either. Messengers, Messengers the all of them. Not the result, not the cause of, nothing but animals trying to keep balance. Like dams holding the water in, eventually it has to break. Eventually the dam will fall. Like any good government does, Argus has walked this earth plane five years, and wolves generally live a great deal of time, mind you, but in this occupation so close to death the both of them, it is no wonder that they would ever grow old, a wonder that they will live past even their childhood. But here they both are, Messengers of death and still living- still here despite of it. It's a testament to their will, even the Grimm faced ones such as they, who picked up the lost souls of murders and bloodbaths of ghosts crying- realizing that no one can see them, up until the moment that few- that they can. Whisper- Argus never paid them any mind, when she was a kid, when little. Because she paid nothing mind. And sometimes, they would gravitate towards the stronger ones and maybe just itch for a little taste if that power. When she was little, she was taught to follow that pull, ambition. The kind where you killed for power, ruthlessly climbing the later- ambition, was encouraged, in her wayward home blood run near constantly and screams never ceased. Breeding enemies and ruthless child soldiers- Argus was just another into the fold. Argus had a run in with Ichigo before her death, young and observant as she was, watched him move aside as ghosts drift and knew he was the same. But they weren't, not really. One small aspect was not enough to excuse their friendship, but even then Argus had stuck close to the cougar. Close to his friends and his home and his people. It was like listening to music, without really being able to craft such a sound. Their happiness, the unabashed closeness that the group formed. Argus selfishly clung to the group- to ichigo and his friends and the aviary that they had lived in. To the warmth that argus never once found deep in the desert from where she was raised. Argus remember it vividly, training alongside them her spirit while learning how to kill- how to take jobs for higher just alongside it. Rukia and toshiro and brief glimpses of another cougar- smaller- a sister perhaps? She forgot the name but- There was history there- history that was comforting as just as it was frightening. Here in this month so far from home argus wanted to cling to it again. To grasp and pull and never let go, but the attachment to people, their attachment to the dead would always remain- just another habit of theirs- and maybe it was time to let go.
There is no deniability to it either, Ichigo's soul has always been bright to her from the seconds she could ever see it. Blue hellfire licks around the other’s form and crackle in a way that is soundless but radiant, bright despite the the murky red that seems to pool around the outline and wisps of black that fog around. It reaches out, and from here it is too tempting to just let her own control slip for a second and press deeper- let her mind crack deeper than what the aura can reveal and walk through the other’s own paws. Feel the ache in his bones and soul deep loneliness that is so alike to hers.
All ten eyes shot to the cougar, her name uttered- it wasn’t seen. Behind the curve of a bone white mask the lids of her eyes widened. Pure white tail dragging around her hind leg- a false sense of security and a first time to allow her body to move without being under control. But this month made those lines of control and controlled so very fuzzy. This month she let down the impossible barriers, let the secrets loosen around her neck and breathe. This month only, argus allowed herself to be someone else- and he had to come ruin that. It was instinctual to be angry and afraid. The shock in his voice was easy to turn either way- was he happy to see her? Was he upset, between the lilac cloak a clawed hand came to a stop just under her throat, palming where once a giant gaping hole once was. So much uncertainty shimmers underneath their form, and parts of them seethe in automatic threat that emotional turmoil use to entail. So long argus is used to shutting down that part of themselves - in their youth, in their adult years- in their entire life. Only recently- a few months had they allowed themselves to hope for something again. For a brighter future, and history took it’s sweet time to rear it’s ugly head. Few moments argus feels a smile twist onto their features that is entirely cruel and bloodthirsty that is barely seen behind the serrated edges of mask’s fragmented edges. The urge to laugh, explain with great detail their own animosity towards the cougar- towards everything that he gave her and everything that was twisted wrong. A way to make up for killing when she couldn’t stop the urges turned into a way for power- and a crack that madness took root into- was all his fault. She could blame him so easily, and for the longest time she has done nothing but blame her past and what’s she’s done on the only survivor that she cannot formulate the heart to shovel that blame onto someone else. But argus, largely unapologetic and unashamed- here and now does not flinch at her name, and when Ichigo does nothing to falter in unabashed shock all ten eyes narrow to focus on his from- his eyes his emotions one final second before she breaks the contact all together. Dismissing him unless he has some here to buy something or gods forbid- say something like sorry. If he did that argus has very little thought to showing just how unapologetic she is.
She does not turn her tumultuous thoughts into darker things. Does not attempt to think about how she has wronged the memory of this cougar before her. Does not think of Hecate and Littlestar and Kanito and Zactov. Does not think what each of these names mean to her- for her. Dark thoughts and already on a slight set of Adrenalin does not bode well for others safety, and in the light of day she would rather not go on a rampage just as quickly as their name was uttered. It was logical- just the right amount that she actually listened to it, turning away from the other god, and turned to the reward for such endeavors patience.
The stranger is a gryphon, the red of his feathers makes an instant knowledge fill- a subspecies of more hawk- than eagle it seemed. Thinner creatures of prey but just as vicious as their cousins. Does not bother to smile towards the other when it is even hard to notice they are talking with the mask in place- instead they nod slightly, letting out a low hum that sounds more like a growl with their lower pitch of voice. Satchel and something to weaponize those wings? She has a few ideas already in mind, pulling out a smaller satchel from behind the three medical books she had on acupuncture. Flipping open the bag she let what was inside shine, a few hundred silver push pin cushions.” if you are looking to weaponize those wings there, here is something that is easily concealed and just as lethal. After preaning you would spread these- point side outward in your wings and tuck them back in. When your ready to attack, simply flick the joints of your wings and they’ll fly out. Similar to like a porcupine but more lethal if you aim it right.” The dragon explains, setting the small needle along the knuckle of their joint above their claw. She flexes her wrist lightly, giving show of tensing her claw downard to point at the ground. Where the pin was settled along her knuckle suddenly shoots out and sticks onto the top book of the pile. She makes show of pulling the needle out- not deep enough into the book to become a hassle- before tucking it back into the bag.”If you make a good enough deal I’ll even throw in the anatomy book on top that’ll teach you where to hit. Hmm?” She returns to a light hum, this time inquisitive and doting like any good shopkeeper would be.
Ward is next, the smaller form of the other makes it easier to see the set frown on the merchant’s maw as they direct their attention- all ten eyes turn intensely towards them. Books and.. Spices? “color=#add8e6] I have a few herbs that add an interesting flavor to any meal, though it depends on what kind of spices you're looking for.[/color]” she pulls three small pots towards the other. Rosemary, garlic, and rosemary. Lists them in order - “ Good with meats, and herbal tea. Might smell bad but works like salt in a pinch and cures stomach aches. And this one is actually nutty- just be careful how much you use.” She nods, satisfied with the plants before she taps the same pile of books that were just subjected to becoming push pun plush. The top is acupuncture, second one down is for smithing, and the last one down is the thickest one- modern medicine mixes and herbology.
This- trading, selling bartering. Is enough to help bring her down whatever she almost would have done alone. Or rather- almost alone. Ichigo seems old and weary and just the perfect kind of prey that she wants to rip apart. But around a crowd it’s easier to distract herself with them, easier to pretend to be normal despite it all.
[glow=#212121,2,300]She's unstable![/glow]
[W]isker