04-27-2018, 08:16 AM
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And the sky was awashed in shadows. The moon made no apearance- but the stars did not hesitate to bathe the night in it's own light. The lone watcher's footfalls silent along the sands of the beach in compariosion to the gentle humm of the ocean at her side. The watcher's gaze was lensed through it's own glow of heedy red. floodlights of red bouncing across the sand as the lone being lumbered, wings set in a tense folded position as if the world was set across her back.
Argus has had many a night to choose. She had had up to a moon, and with each day the growing desperation clawed her throat raw from holding back screams. Her mind ricocheting across its own walls from keeping in the laughter, her heart knocking with each heartbeat a new mantra. The words on the bottle of her initiation glued to the back of her eyelids and she couldn't take it. She was losing control, spiraling out of whatever path she wanted into something dark and very familiar. The beach's pale sand was darkening. Under her feet. White dissipating into a smokey substance. Black sand that was along the northern part of the border. Treasure Cove.
She grew up killing to live. Among monsters, she found enjoyment in other's suffering. In the desert where they drank the blood of their enemies like ichor from their Red God. They howled and screamed right next to their prisoner's dying gasps and taunted their loving families to get them back. They bred the word revenge. Acolytes of slaughter and war and she was raised to love it. Raised to do the same. Bloodclan. A place where the name was a warning. When enemies stopped short of the border wall to claim the corpses of their loved ones- too afraid to step past the blatant warning provided by the clan's most merciful. Merciful enough to leave something for them to claim.
But in that clan- they were still a family. Tightly knit and broken individuals that created a whole. A single unit that could not be divided. Argus at a young age found duty in it. She- left alone by the edges of that border found beauty in the whole writing mass of destruction. It was her first claim to home. The first place she swore to protect with her entier being. To preserve the broken individuals inside just for a hint of the same taste of community.
It was within the sands, in a similar shade of twilight that Argus danced the night away with her crush. Her love's fur as white as Argus' was now. Dugs laced their veigns and and they made an accident that blessed Argus' life with her first ever hope of a family. A night like this four souls greeted her with mom on their tongue. With her blood and some aspect of herself in them. Maybe that was where it all went wrong. Maybe that was the fault in all of her children. The black blood she carried was not meant to be passed on.
It was now, within the sands as black as Argus' fur was when she greeted this mortal relm, that she was now hollow. A desperation that would not leave her. It shook inside her every graceful step, it rimmed her eyes every blink and it showed the most by this g a p e i n g h o l e. She hated it. Hated the way that no matter how easily she could hide her spirit it still lingered on her body. On this physical manifestation to which she would commune with others- they would note the Gap where her breath should stutter. Where any mortal would guard as one of the weakpoints of their life. She h a t e d it.
Memories linger- flickers as she gasped and gaped under the darkness of a different light. Where she tore open her heart to the only being she knew old enough to know not only the name she now carried. She wonders what he thinks of her little flaw. Of this blemish on her pure white fur- so much like the daughter she has stolen from him. If the tears and confession of- I have done so much in the name of a family. I am undeserving of one. I abandoned my own, I destroyed yours. Lucifer, I am sorry. SHe wonders if the devil thinks of her and reflects how easy it is that she broke. Under time, under stress, under the pressure of the voices that he had lived with as well. Voices of the damned screaming at them both- she knew. She knew he hated her too- that even now as he tells her it's gone that there is still a spark of that same hate. How he t a u n t s her now. Reminds her of her sins with his presence. She wonders if he takes joy in torturing her now. Wonders how much more she deserves- how much before she falls beyond fixable. before she is pushed beyond the line of savageness to far to return from.
She remembers the cold glare of her daughter. With eyes, the same shade of her father's looked at her with the animosity Argus grew with her secrets. Argus, unable to swallow the faults of her self and her sins. Unable to answer the questions willow pestered her with. Remembers willow's youth how she would set off glitter bombs in her clanmates much to get the approval of her mother. Argus remembers how willow's bright brown eyes flashed the same shade of her mother's and defaulted to the beast that lingered under the watcher's skin. How her willow disappeared under the same shade of twilight as it is now. Wonders if she ever figured out what Argus hid from her. Wonders if willow died with the same shadow of perfect brown or the hateful electric blue that Argus now hides away.
Argus was born with the need for blood. Born with the ideology that the justice was just another word for revenge. Where family meant someone you would die for and family didn't necessarily mean blood relatives. But Now- within the twilight shade where Argus is just a speck along the black beach of a forbid area for the entirety of the clan. Now a new need dug into her brain and frayed her senses until ever walking breathing thing was just a morsel to consume. Where the damn hole across her neck was the only reminder of what she was. A hollow desperate thing that lost every single value they once had. Lost the ability to act to move and once quaked with the single boiling of rage in her blood. Her name a mockery of her inability. A watcher- a beast with too many eyes- too many lives and too much power but without a damn without a fraction of ability to [b]c h an g e
Now- now she reflects on a more recent event of meeting Killua. The Domestic feline that Argus only had memories of knowing. Between lensed blue she saw red in the setting of the sands. Familiar white fur carrying her son's body towards the border. Bringing with him the start of the end. Argus did not linger on that- drifting her head to when she first saw him on the border. While she was cautious, toying- Killua remained indifferent and unknowing. Turning into conflicted realization and dread as he ran off in the other direction. She wonders when her curiosity allowed that need- of family and companionship to sink its claws into the Snowseeker. Wonders if there is a chance for something honest and real between them even possible with how broken they were. Because when she looked at him he reminded her of a son. The last time she tried to claim someone as her own- it backfired- quite literally.
She is afraid of that, ultamaltely. Afraid of breaking something precious or something that could be precious to her. Brittle, the both of them. She was all too aware how a mind like that worked- knew how to make it like that sure but- could she fix it? Could she help the broken little apprentice rid of the voice inside his own head? Did she want to? Would she rather play to it- sink her claws deeper, under his skin mayb-
no
no more.
somewhere, within her consious mind something alerts her to the presence of someone else there.
Alone, on the black beach no longer. Argus still stuck within her daze but ceases her paceing. Gaze drifting along the mimicry of the star speckled sky the sea gifted her. The sea from the northern shore of Treasure Cove was so much darker than that of the southern border. An almost nightmarish relfection of their home- if she turned around maybe she'd see-
"My Zactov, what a little mess you've made for yourself here." Red pupiless eyes drilled into her own, outlined by bone rather than fur. Antelope like horns instead of ears. The demon grinned with a lipless-skinless smile at her. His voice rough much like iron clashing together in a forge. A ghost of laughter in his voice as he spoke. The demon deranged- driven to it by the betrayal that they both had experienced.
Along the beach, demon and immortal met like old friends. "It's my moon again Zactov. Are you ready for it? You did not forget your vow to me- did you?" Here the laughter bounces into a snarl. The dead glimmer in his eyes seeming to dim but the red all-encompassing. He took steps forward, claws cutting through the sand as he pushed forward. Within her frozen expression.
Argus' vow- yes her vow. To give in to her insanity, to send others to the same. All given to her through the blessing. The wyrm's gift both gifts- her name that she had tried to hide. Blood red tinged her vision- Before she could finish the thought claws sized her chin. Staring into the red gaze of her indebted. "Za̶c̷t̶o͡v̵, Y͝o̴u̴ h̛e̕a͜r me? ̡You̵.͟ A͢ŕe. Mín̨e͞!" It was with glee that he took her left arm. Claws digging into it as he carved the mark- the mark she had gotten rid of back onto her arm."Th͠ey̵ ̀can ̢n̡oţ ͏hav̶e y̨o̷u͡!̸ Yoư ̷Ar̸e̷ ̕Źa̴ctov͡!̴ ̴You͡ are m̶ine̛!̸"
And in an instant- the demon is merely smoke within the black sands. Argus is left alone with the frenzy that her name evokes and her blood scenting the air only helped drive her further within the spiral d o w n.
She bounds within the sands, her laughter erupting from her own maws as her claws dig deep in her own flesh. Clawing around the hole in her throat- under her chin. Her maw opens to the taste of blood dribbling down her chin. Her scream mocking- hiding those of the victims she finds along the beach. She does not remember the faces. Either of the greedy crewmates that decided to snoop within the black beach, nor the rouges or passerby's caught along the jungle's edge. But as dawn graces the northern end and Argus' bright red eyes dim back into the foggy red- she is caked with the blood of both herself and her victims. Drifting within the jungle in a daze. She tries to remember what it was like to live in the place, and distantly trying to hide the satisfaction of feeling blood seep into the white of her fur.[W]isker
Argus has had many a night to choose. She had had up to a moon, and with each day the growing desperation clawed her throat raw from holding back screams. Her mind ricocheting across its own walls from keeping in the laughter, her heart knocking with each heartbeat a new mantra. The words on the bottle of her initiation glued to the back of her eyelids and she couldn't take it. She was losing control, spiraling out of whatever path she wanted into something dark and very familiar. The beach's pale sand was darkening. Under her feet. White dissipating into a smokey substance. Black sand that was along the northern part of the border. Treasure Cove.
She grew up killing to live. Among monsters, she found enjoyment in other's suffering. In the desert where they drank the blood of their enemies like ichor from their Red God. They howled and screamed right next to their prisoner's dying gasps and taunted their loving families to get them back. They bred the word revenge. Acolytes of slaughter and war and she was raised to love it. Raised to do the same. Bloodclan. A place where the name was a warning. When enemies stopped short of the border wall to claim the corpses of their loved ones- too afraid to step past the blatant warning provided by the clan's most merciful. Merciful enough to leave something for them to claim.
But in that clan- they were still a family. Tightly knit and broken individuals that created a whole. A single unit that could not be divided. Argus at a young age found duty in it. She- left alone by the edges of that border found beauty in the whole writing mass of destruction. It was her first claim to home. The first place she swore to protect with her entier being. To preserve the broken individuals inside just for a hint of the same taste of community.
It was within the sands, in a similar shade of twilight that Argus danced the night away with her crush. Her love's fur as white as Argus' was now. Dugs laced their veigns and and they made an accident that blessed Argus' life with her first ever hope of a family. A night like this four souls greeted her with mom on their tongue. With her blood and some aspect of herself in them. Maybe that was where it all went wrong. Maybe that was the fault in all of her children. The black blood she carried was not meant to be passed on.
It was now, within the sands as black as Argus' fur was when she greeted this mortal relm, that she was now hollow. A desperation that would not leave her. It shook inside her every graceful step, it rimmed her eyes every blink and it showed the most by this g a p e i n g h o l e. She hated it. Hated the way that no matter how easily she could hide her spirit it still lingered on her body. On this physical manifestation to which she would commune with others- they would note the Gap where her breath should stutter. Where any mortal would guard as one of the weakpoints of their life. She h a t e d it.
Memories linger- flickers as she gasped and gaped under the darkness of a different light. Where she tore open her heart to the only being she knew old enough to know not only the name she now carried. She wonders what he thinks of her little flaw. Of this blemish on her pure white fur- so much like the daughter she has stolen from him. If the tears and confession of- I have done so much in the name of a family. I am undeserving of one. I abandoned my own, I destroyed yours. Lucifer, I am sorry. SHe wonders if the devil thinks of her and reflects how easy it is that she broke. Under time, under stress, under the pressure of the voices that he had lived with as well. Voices of the damned screaming at them both- she knew. She knew he hated her too- that even now as he tells her it's gone that there is still a spark of that same hate. How he t a u n t s her now. Reminds her of her sins with his presence. She wonders if he takes joy in torturing her now. Wonders how much more she deserves- how much before she falls beyond fixable. before she is pushed beyond the line of savageness to far to return from.
She remembers the cold glare of her daughter. With eyes, the same shade of her father's looked at her with the animosity Argus grew with her secrets. Argus, unable to swallow the faults of her self and her sins. Unable to answer the questions willow pestered her with. Remembers willow's youth how she would set off glitter bombs in her clanmates much to get the approval of her mother. Argus remembers how willow's bright brown eyes flashed the same shade of her mother's and defaulted to the beast that lingered under the watcher's skin. How her willow disappeared under the same shade of twilight as it is now. Wonders if she ever figured out what Argus hid from her. Wonders if willow died with the same shadow of perfect brown or the hateful electric blue that Argus now hides away.
Argus was born with the need for blood. Born with the ideology that the justice was just another word for revenge. Where family meant someone you would die for and family didn't necessarily mean blood relatives. But Now- within the twilight shade where Argus is just a speck along the black beach of a forbid area for the entirety of the clan. Now a new need dug into her brain and frayed her senses until ever walking breathing thing was just a morsel to consume. Where the damn hole across her neck was the only reminder of what she was. A hollow desperate thing that lost every single value they once had. Lost the ability to act to move and once quaked with the single boiling of rage in her blood. Her name a mockery of her inability. A watcher- a beast with too many eyes- too many lives and too much power but without a damn without a fraction of ability to [b]c h an g e
Now- now she reflects on a more recent event of meeting Killua. The Domestic feline that Argus only had memories of knowing. Between lensed blue she saw red in the setting of the sands. Familiar white fur carrying her son's body towards the border. Bringing with him the start of the end. Argus did not linger on that- drifting her head to when she first saw him on the border. While she was cautious, toying- Killua remained indifferent and unknowing. Turning into conflicted realization and dread as he ran off in the other direction. She wonders when her curiosity allowed that need- of family and companionship to sink its claws into the Snowseeker. Wonders if there is a chance for something honest and real between them even possible with how broken they were. Because when she looked at him he reminded her of a son. The last time she tried to claim someone as her own- it backfired- quite literally.
She is afraid of that, ultamaltely. Afraid of breaking something precious or something that could be precious to her. Brittle, the both of them. She was all too aware how a mind like that worked- knew how to make it like that sure but- could she fix it? Could she help the broken little apprentice rid of the voice inside his own head? Did she want to? Would she rather play to it- sink her claws deeper, under his skin mayb-
no
no more.
somewhere, within her consious mind something alerts her to the presence of someone else there.
Alone, on the black beach no longer. Argus still stuck within her daze but ceases her paceing. Gaze drifting along the mimicry of the star speckled sky the sea gifted her. The sea from the northern shore of Treasure Cove was so much darker than that of the southern border. An almost nightmarish relfection of their home- if she turned around maybe she'd see-
"My Zactov, what a little mess you've made for yourself here." Red pupiless eyes drilled into her own, outlined by bone rather than fur. Antelope like horns instead of ears. The demon grinned with a lipless-skinless smile at her. His voice rough much like iron clashing together in a forge. A ghost of laughter in his voice as he spoke. The demon deranged- driven to it by the betrayal that they both had experienced.
Along the beach, demon and immortal met like old friends. "It's my moon again Zactov. Are you ready for it? You did not forget your vow to me- did you?" Here the laughter bounces into a snarl. The dead glimmer in his eyes seeming to dim but the red all-encompassing. He took steps forward, claws cutting through the sand as he pushed forward. Within her frozen expression.
Argus' vow- yes her vow. To give in to her insanity, to send others to the same. All given to her through the blessing. The wyrm's gift both gifts- her name that she had tried to hide. Blood red tinged her vision- Before she could finish the thought claws sized her chin. Staring into the red gaze of her indebted. "Za̶c̷t̶o͡v̵, Y͝o̴u̴ h̛e̕a͜r me? ̡You̵.͟ A͢ŕe. Mín̨e͞!" It was with glee that he took her left arm. Claws digging into it as he carved the mark- the mark she had gotten rid of back onto her arm."Th͠ey̵ ̀can ̢n̡oţ ͏hav̶e y̨o̷u͡!̸ Yoư ̷Ar̸e̷ ̕Źa̴ctov͡!̴ ̴You͡ are m̶ine̛!̸"
And in an instant- the demon is merely smoke within the black sands. Argus is left alone with the frenzy that her name evokes and her blood scenting the air only helped drive her further within the spiral d o w n.
She bounds within the sands, her laughter erupting from her own maws as her claws dig deep in her own flesh. Clawing around the hole in her throat- under her chin. Her maw opens to the taste of blood dribbling down her chin. Her scream mocking- hiding those of the victims she finds along the beach. She does not remember the faces. Either of the greedy crewmates that decided to snoop within the black beach, nor the rouges or passerby's caught along the jungle's edge. But as dawn graces the northern end and Argus' bright red eyes dim back into the foggy red- she is caked with the blood of both herself and her victims. Drifting within the jungle in a daze. She tries to remember what it was like to live in the place, and distantly trying to hide the satisfaction of feeling blood seep into the white of her fur.[W]isker