Pay no mind you the rabble . joining / introduction

[VIRGIL M.]

[table][tr][td]

[/td][td]

XVIII - THE MOON

a monument dreams and fantasies come to life, the representation of instincts often left suppressed and a knock into our subconscious.  Virgil of the pitt is a study in beauty: a perfect understanding of that which terrifies you, a perfect picturesque of horror and delight

[/td][/tr][/table]

in death, there was a stillness: it was unsettling to sit alone in it's presence, but now it became her companion, it called her dottir and it called her mona- [glow=grey,2,300]little moon[/glow] mother hissed to her, night after night of the silence, of the abuse these wastes slashed into her, cut into her [glow=grey,2,300]you must learn, or you will always be alone[/glow]. so little Virgil had learned, learned inside the silence to watch. watch life bloom from the dead; parasitic, vermin swarmed and lay claim to their love; dead. watched as the dead's mesma was sucked at like milk from a newborn into the decrepid. parasites sucked the earth of it's life, they all hunted and thrived under the strain; the death of others, and who was virgil to stop this cycle? who was virgil but a watcher?

Virgil's first steps in life had been to watch, to learn. but now, without mother, with one voice whispering in her ear and one speaking to her through them; these pittians, virgil would make the choice, she was always meant to make.

"within the ashes of the nebula, a star will be born" virgil recites, a prophecy told from her mother. a vision a correspondence from her divination, in the shreds of the dying night vigil knew that the sun's stretch would start soon, the corpses underfoot began to warm as the sands still held the air of a biting chill as Virgil jumped down from her stand amusing the dead, rotting-crawling, vile thing to watch the shadow encroach upon such a woefully-delightful reunion.

there was something in the air of this place, and it stunk of rot. but it was not the earth that was the carcass, it was he. underfoot the desert flourished, Virgil knew it, mother knew it too, told her of a guild that replenished the world where the rest would fell it to ruin. it was what kept her here, it was what birthed her, the mother of her body and the mother of her powers- the earth saw fit to deign her the gift and virgil saw before her the sacrifice to which would bring ruin- and with it the rebirth. the great rebirth.

"within the carcass of the quiet a scream will break the chain, and life will again complete the circle" it is spoken with a note of reverence, sickly green-yellow, an infection of mesma as the curs run it's coarse through her, tackled her body silently with an edge of fever and a [glow=#BF5FFF,2,300]greed[/glow]. "i am known as Virgil Mona" and her eyes drifted once again towards worm, a silent note of apprehension that was washed out by the vicious nature of such a beast deigned by her mix of hyena and wolf. ferocious, ruthless, wrathful, watchful- cunning