Login

SUZUME · 08-21-2018, 12:45 AM

[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-size: 9.4pt; line-height: 1.4;"]He never knew which was worse: that it was not his choice to take these lives, or that if it were, he would still choose to. "We put you back together. You owe us your life, and that of your brother's." Their ultimatum had gone without saying, and so he became little more than a weapon for them, aimed where they wanted, but it just so happened that sometimes, the targets were truly terrible people. Sparrow didn't have much of a moral standing, though he'd say he was at least a tier above a killer of children, so when he received those tasks, they were...enjoyable. He liked it, liked having murderers at his mercy, eyes as wide as their victims' must have been, liked the red of their blood on his steel. It gave him comfort that for all his pain, he could still make a man beg, but he knew he hadn't always been this way, that befriending people had once been preferable to killing them because that was a choice he'd had.

Deciding between freedom and his brother's life was no choice at all, and so he lost himself to it and the anger he'd sharpened into as fine a blade as his sword.

He hated it. Hated everything, even his brother some days. Always himself. Loathed how pleased he was when blood spilled onto the sand, how beneath his mask, he bared his teeth in a smile when the body fell. Greater still, he despised the disappointment at a lack of challenge, the target too exhausted from fleeing to have managed an adequate fight when Sparrow finally cornered her.

Exhaling through vents in his mask, ignoring the pulsating ache of his skin, the canine sat, awareness slowly returning. If his father had seen his sword discarded so carelessly in the sand, there would have been repercussions, but there was no one to care now. Sparrow doubted her death would leave many ripples, given only a few knew her, and as a killer to boot. Only a little worse than he was, so he couldn't help but wonder if, when they felt he'd paid his due, they'd send a chained bastard after him, to do as Sparrow was.

He wasn't certain he'd mind, and with another steady release of air, he commanded the sword to lift, blood slipping free as he returned the blade to lock into place at his back. As for the body- he'd never done anything with those. The canine doubted he'd ever start, so it remained crumpled, steadily soaking into the beach while he watched the red expand, inexplicably mesmerized.

[align=right]INFORMATION

GORDON CIPHER. · 08-21-2018, 02:13 AM

Gordon had only one biological brother, and the two were close. At one point, that was. Ever since they were born, they never strayed far from each other’s side, and slowly being able to feel when the other was in pain and know where the other was. It was reassuring to know that if they somehow got separated, at least they could still sense each other.

And eventually that time came. Gordon and her brother ran away from their father, and they ended up getting separated in their run. Gordon found herself stumbling upon The Ascendants’s territory and joined them, though she found out that her brother’s bond had gone static. It worried her, made her petrified. What if he was hurt? What if he was dead? Those were thoughts that constantly plagued her during her time in The Ascendants, before the bond snapped awake, revealing that Billiam was still alive and was nearby. He came to join The Ascendants and Gordon had never been happier.

But she never saw him again after that and the stress she felt being a semi-high position there was too much to handle, so she stepped down and left. Gordon eventually found Sunhaven and joined here, much more at ease than she had been in The Ascendants, mostly due to Sunhaven being slightly smaller and less busy than The Ascendants.

The scent of blood hit Gordon’s nose and the little she-cat halted in her steps and tensed up, her green eyes going wide at the smell. Slowly and cautiously, Gordon crept around and tried to keep herself hidden as she went to investigate what was going on. Her heart was pounding in her chest as she crawled along and she knew that her fur was sticking on end but she honestly didn’t care. She was honestly terrified, but living in a clan meant she had duties - and being a semi-high position here only enhanced said duties.

Gordon had no idea if her attempt at hiding was successful, but she was able to catch a glimpse of what was going on. The Hearthkeeper let out a squeak of alarm before she turned around and ran off towards camp as fast as her short legs would take her. She only had one person in mind that could handle this, even if said person made her nervous and probably wanted to squish her. Gordon didn’t care, she just wanted - needed - somebody else to handle this. So who was she going after? Quantum.

[member=1678]quantum caralho[/member]

//mobile

★ i am a lion born from things you cannot be ! ━

~~miss ririchiyo~~ · 08-21-2018, 09:41 PM

coma baby

PERSEPHONE — FEMME — SUNHAVEN — SUNBEARER — 4 M/O 

"Can you stop poking strangers, Jersey?" Came the annoyed tone of Persephone's voice as she walked over, unimpressed by the sight she saw before her. Jericho and Mama were the only two people she knew that had medical experience, but she didn't seem to care if the fool died at their borders, either. The beach could wash the body away. Besides, the mercats liked fresh meat. "Someone get some water to wash this poor lad off, he's matted and bloody, she needs to be cleaned before any wounds are treated to make sure she's not dead." She grumbled, tilting her head to the side.

#psychosocial.

WITH YOUR SICK HEAD

tags :: updated 8/18:

Ilijas · 08-21-2018, 11:20 PM

ilijas arthur valentine

reckless wanderer | noble stag

[color=gray]"We're gonna... wash a dead body? Why?"

Ilijas was not familiar with murder. He had never taken a life from another or even entertained that thought, far too gentle in nature to possess the desire to simply strike down someone where they stood. Such was a partial lie though, the adolescent having once led an existence dependent on the death of others to survive, a monster shrouded in the skin of a gentleman who's fury was unmatched and who's wrath Ilijas would one day find himself atoning for. On several occasions, he had already been met with a strange ferocity that barely matched his nonchalant disposition, the bengal hardly able to process the new and unfamiliar emotion before it dissipated entirely. He never told anyone about his strange lapses however, far too afraid of what they might mean and what consequences might follow them.

[color=gray]"Did you do this?" Inquired the bengal curiously, tone not accusatory even as a metaphorical brow arched in mild skepticism. The body that lay twisted in the sand was not one he was familiar with, but then again, the young photographer was still learning his way around Sunhaven. The corpse did not succeed in unnerving him though, not really. He was an explorer of the wilderness, someone who had stumbled upon bodies claimed by the elements in his travels, forced to stomach them and continue moving lest he fall victim to the same fate. When it came down to it, he guessed death wasn't even that deep. [color=gray]"And why did you do it if you did?"

cause god, i never felt young

[align=center][sub]TEMPLATE BY FAUNA[/sub]

PIERCE · 08-23-2018, 12:36 AM

[div style="margin-top: 30px; text-align: center; font-family: timesnewroman; font-size: 35px; color: white;"]pierce parker

☀ — just two ghosts standing in the place of you and me

space

// gore warning sfdgsh + it’s 12:30 and im on mobile so this may or may not suck

Pierce had been on his usual little patrol of the Sunhaven territory when a familiar iron-like scent struck his nose, flooding his mouth with the taste of what was clearly blood- blood! Oh god, he smelled blood. The metallic stench could never mean anything good, but it was a smell prominent in far too many of Pierce's memories for him to be able to approach it calmly. He could still see the lifeless, bleeding form of his sister, still feel gaping wounds along his sides, the agony of a shattered leg. His whole life, Pierce had been followed by violence and gore, and though it was common, something no one else really seemed bothered by - and something he tried not to look bothered by -, the same terror gripped his body eavh time it reached his unsuspecting nose. Regardless of the less-than-cheerful memories, Pierce forced himself to follow the smell, reminding himself that it didn't always mean something horrible- maybe someone had just, like, skinned their knee, or something. Yeah, that was probably it.

When he neared the scene, however, he realized, that was most definitely not it.

There were Sunhaveners, some worried, some horrified, gathered around a stranger and a crumpled, bleeding form of a person on the ground. Murder was not something Pierce was unfamiliar with- on the contrary, he’d seen clanmates and loved ones slaughtered before his very eyes quite a few times, and when that didn’t happen, he usually ended up stumbling across the aftermath. Not to mention, his life had been threatened countless times, and once, he’d even been stabbed to death.

Honey eyes flicked over the oozing wounds that decorated the corpse’s body, expression rather unfeeling despite the sick twist he felt in his gut. Briefly, he could feel the hilt of a dagger gripped in his own paw, feel its impact as he brought it down upon his completely unsuspecting victim, green eyes dulled but still filled with confusion and betrayal.

Pierce’s gaze shifted back to Sparrow as he desperately tried to ignore the disturbing image created in his mind, though it was closer to a memory, that had entered his mind. That had never happened- what the hell was wrong with him? He brushed it off as a mere reaction to the murder scene, but he knew that simply was not accurate, and he could still feel his legs trembling slightly. He’d thought this place would be safe, safe for him, for Clem, a place where they could finally be happy and not have to worry about this kind of bullshit, but he should’ve known that idea was too good to be true.

The serval forced his attention onto Sparrow now, grasping at any possible thoughts and emotions other than the ones that currently plagued his mind. The man before him was a killer. Granted, Pierce had defended the same kind before, but this was different. He didn’t know if this had been with reason or not. For all he knew, this guy was just some fucking sicko. "Why?" was all Pierce uttered, not allowing himself to look back at the body that stained the sand below it. This man was guilty, he knew it- for one, why was he right beside the freshly-killed corpse, and second, the weapon strapped to his back seemed eerily like it could make the same wounds on the victim’s body. Pierce just wanted to know one thing- why? Had she done something to this guy before, to someone he cared about, perhaps? Was this justice? Or was this just his way of having “fun”?

"speech"

//mobile

space

SUZUME · 08-23-2018, 04:40 PM

[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-size: 9.4pt; line-height: 1.4;"]//it's not bad at all!!

Sparrow tore himself free of the blood's influence, closing his eyes to attempt a visage of calm that he did not feel. Beneath his mask, the remnants of his mouth pulled down into a frown, catching the sound of an onlooker, and the squeak followed by the frantic paced sound of pawsteps informed him whoever had stumbled on the scene had quickly retreated. Good. He was in no mood to deal with the strangers of this land, although that implied there was a time when he wouldn't mind. Sparrow no longer cared for anything but the never-ending pain he could never escape, infecting every movement. He squeezed his eyes shut tighter, blatantly ignoring the speaking child; he could focus on little beyond the burns, and struggled to redirect his attention, to escape the quicksand before it swallowed him completely and he killed anyone nearby. The prospect was more appealing than it should have been, though should haves mattered little.

His eyes drew open, trails of red left in the air by the crimson glow. The metallic canine did not look at the Bengal as he was addressed, gaze on the ocean, sharpened claws digging into the sand while the sword on his back quivered slightly. "Hm." Sparrow remained in place, the hum reverberating softly against his plates. It was fairly obvious who killed her, but if he had no eyes to see as much, then he would not allow the stranger an answer to his second question, either. Why was...inconsequential. She was dead, regardless of their moral input, and if she returned to life, Sparrow would kill her again. But people always wanted to understand, and another voice asked why.

His mouth curled into a snarl below his mask, bright shocks of pain searing through his face. "You do not want to know why. You want a reason to hate me or forgive me, and I care for neither."

[align=right]INFORMATION

Ilijas · 08-25-2018, 07:27 PM

ilijas arthur valentine

reckless wanderer | noble stag

[color=gray]"Uh, sorry man but you overestimate how much I care about you or this gal that you killed. Forgiveness and hatred, in this context, are stupid. Just let us know why the hell you did it. It isn't that deep," Ilijas responded evenly, resisting the urge to scoff in the face of Sparrow. He was being... unnecessarily dramatic about this, enigmatic behavior making it difficult for the photographer to even deduce his motives for being upon the border with a corpse, of all things. Some strange and unfamiliar voice insisted that he execute the armed stranger for his crimes, but he ignored it easily, writing off the voice as another facet of a past he didn't understand, most likely linked to his strange bloodlust and desire to rip and shred and destory.

Ilijas shifted his weight, easily moving his satchel from one shoulder to the next to kill only a few, agonizing seconds as he awaited an answer, chestnut shaded eyes unblinking as he continued to stare at the masked stranger. Ah, yes... stranger. It occurred to the adolescent that he didn't know this individual's name. [color=gray]"Oh, and per clan policy or whatever - I'm still getting used to it myself - what's your name and reason for being here? If you didn't know, this is Sunhaven." Was he doing his job now? God, he hoped so. A promotion was neat and all, but Ilijas still didn't exactly know what his new position entailed. Hopefully, this was it.

(sorry for such a rushed and late response!! university has dominated all my time lately aaaa)

cause god, i never felt young

[align=center][sub]TEMPLATE BY FAUNA[/sub]

PIERCE · 08-25-2018, 11:13 PM

[div style="margin-top: 30px; text-align: center; font-family: timesnewroman; font-size: 35px; color: white;"]pierce parker

☀ — just two ghosts standing in the place of you and me

space

As he and Ilijas were addressed, the bright-eyed tom felt his jaw clench ever so slightly, processing the other's words wordlessly. He was denying them answers? After coming right up to their territory and murdering someone on their border? Yeah, sure. Taking another's life was never excusable nor forgivable, though it could sometimes be understandable. People had killed for him before, and he knew, if it came down to it, he would take another's life in a heartbeat for his daughter, who currently lay sick in his home. However, the fact that this man said nothing, did nothing, seemingly felt nothing, was very clearly bothering the smaller feline that stood before him. Was it anger that Pierce felt? He... wasn't sure. He couldn't be sure, unless he knew there had been a valid reason for this man to hurt the femme before them. But, Pierce had a feeling he wouldn't be avoiding the question if he hadn't done it out of malice.

Pierce so desperately wanted to snap at the stranger, to threaten him and tell him all sorts of horrible things, but Ilijas spoke before he could, which was probably for the best. Usually, Pierce was good at handling touchy situations, but this was something entirely different, and he held his breath as his fellow Hearthkeeper spoke, biting the inside of his cheek. It was true- they didn't know this man, had no reason to care for him in any way. But, this being their territory and Sparrow being the homicidal trespasser, they were certainly entitled to answers. "I suggest you answer fast, too," spoke up the serval, honey gaze burning holes in Sparrow's metallic pelt as he glared at the canine. They were roughly the same size, but Sparrow was far stockier, and armed- if he wanted, he could kill Pierce, easy, but he doubted it would come to that. "'Cause about the best thing I see happening for you at the moment is you getting your ass chased off of our border, so make it quick." Pierce kind of had a feeling the others wouldn't try defending this mess, at least, not until they heard what he had to say- and perhaps he would end up convincing Pierce, too, but the dappled Hearthkeeper had a feeling that wasn't gonna happen.

"speech"

space

Login
Username:
Password:	Lost Password?
	Remember me

Login
Username:
Password:	Lost Password?
	Remember me