Abandoned at the edge of eternity ▪☆▪joining

[Kold]

Kold

Her father trailed solemnly back away from the wastes, sending one last howl to his daughter. She watched him go, a pang of loss in her mind. Why did he drop her here? Did he no longer love her? Did he leave her there to die? Where were her siblings?

Why bring her here, among the wastes? What else lay here but death?

She started to call out to him, barking and yelping. She didn't want to die, she didn't want to be alone. She wanted her dad, and now he didn't care for her. The thought sent a shudder of sadness through her, and she shut up.

Her black eyes seeked refuge from the heat, but instead of wandering out, she ventured in. A fool's choice, but she was a fool for thinking her father cared about her now. She kept venturing in, finding a safe rocky outcrop whose shadow ventured half as far as her. There, she settled down, sending up one weak howl to the sky, hoping someone would just come get her already.

[VIRGIL M.]

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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

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Cruel where the fathers that abandoned them both. Virgil felt spite welling inside her blood. It boiled into an anger that she had struggled with. There were no funeral for her father- just a crowning corpse a pile in his home- and his skull the jewel to the crown. He had died, he had crooned the corpse god's words and rotted away; She felt bitter, but it was only the rumble of distraction from the festival that kept her from stumbling off and carving his skull into something more useful: but he were a waste- and it were only fitting his body waste away.

It was the howl that broke Virgil's concentration, tending to the home of her father; turning it into a garden was a careful process. Toiling soil over the melting flesh of her father's kills. She would dig up the bones later- but for now the remnants of him would be made into something from Virgil's own hands. She stopped her workings, and looked towards the sound- watching the bone-white pup stumble between the corpse wall and closer- further in. Well, that wouldn't do, would it?

"you reek of sorrow, stranger" Virgil hummed through the vision that befell her. Sickly green eyes spoke of rot looked at and saw more than what was physically present. A lingering taste of the other's aura, the determine set- sorrow that dragged at the stranger's shoulders. The acolyte cocked her head towards the stranger. Giving them a moment to speak- rebuff if the so wished . "What a place to get lost in," she hummed out

[Kold]

Kold

Hearing another's voice sent shock through her body - there were others in eternity?! She rose up and began to walk to the sound of the voice, but upon looking at the owner of said voice, she froze in her tracks. "U-uh..." Her words caught in her throat, she gave another glance around. Eternity was already so vast for the small pup, seeing a larger wolf-like animal, that wasn't a wolf, just terrified her. "My- My father dropped me off at the edge... the edge of eternity.." Her voice faltered toward the end, as she was scared and confused.

[VIRGIL M.]

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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

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It strook her, how similar they were in that moment; an odd look took presence in Virgil's features. The hyena-wolf mix; she was meant to be cunning, ruthless, she was meant to be a never ending stream of obscurity. A witch who only spoke in half truths, but for once she felt that same mannerism fail her at the bluntness in the other pup's tone, a cock in her head stuck rigid, a rictus grin along her maw but the eyes- spoke of something off; something crawling- [b]worming[/i] it's way inside her skull- an infection to the telling's of rot- empathy: what a strange bazar concept: it made her feel more alive than the thrum of a god under her feet.

"You're father left you here to die then," It was blunt, and as the smile faded then, the posture of the witch lagged into something less non-threatening. Instead Virgil withdrew on herself, a weakness only allowed in the presence of the moon now lay bare before a stranger. Children, the both of them: yet the world asked so much. Took already just the cusp of everything.

Virgil wondered if this was what it was like to look into a mirror.

"it's true, many come here only to die" Virgil muttered, and she felt the burrowing thing under her feet coo into her head, a mantra that spoke of blood and war, that shone through death and took from her- comforted her in equal measure: it called on her- beckoned her to welcome the other into the same fold. Only time would tell if they would make it- live past their own lifespan in the service to the devotion of war everyone here submitted to.

"This place is eternal, a stain- blight on the world" Virgil spoke- in a warning before she offered. "But it could also become your sanctuary, you're haven and family, if you welcome it" She breathed, and a great sigh filtered between her maws made each bone in her ache with a sudden drag of burden along her shoulders.

"My name is Virgil, what is yours?"

[Kold]

Kold

Her body stiffened and eyes widened as Virgil spoke, the words sending her mind in overdrive for a moment. He wasn't... He wasn't really leaving her to die, was he? His motives weren't that twisted, right? He did love her....

Right?

Caught in the turmoil that no young pup should be in, she didn't pay attention to Virgil's words as she continued to speak - until she said the desert was eternal, then offered that it could be her home, a haven with family, if she allowed it. At this, she was taken aback. What would her father- no. If her father left her there to die, she had no reason to think of what he would say. And even if he didn't leave her there for death, she was too shocked by his actions to even consider his words.

She said her name was Virgil - to Kold, that was an odd name, but did fit the other pup. She questioned herself, wondering if she should give her name. 'It would make sense - better to let someone know my name if I take up the offer..'

"My.. My name is Kold."

[Windowmemer]

JORMUNGAND

male — the Pitt — newblood — pinterest board

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OC TEXT


IC TEXT
Jaws parted, exposing gleaming white fangs, matching the bright optics, faintly glowing. The panther was crouched casually atop a tree, examining the scene through a slightly intrigued gaze. How interesting, yet pathetic. Sure, the other was just a kid who had been left by her dad to die, but out here you learn to fend for yourself. It's kill or be killed. "Welcome... Kold. Virgil, don't scare the poor thing." Mock sympathy dripped from his voice as the towering muscular form rose and emerged from the bushes. Don't scare the poor thing, ha. Then he comes with his tall ass body. A lift of the lips in amusement.

#psychosocial.

[Kold]

Kold

Her body ducked down, crouching in panic as Jormungand spoke, then appeared. Her eyes set wide, staring at the panther as she registered the words he spoke. 'Don't scare the poor thing.' The words echoed in her head and for a moment she wanted to flash fangs at him - but didn't out of fear that it would be the last thing she'd do.

Instead, she choked out from her throat - "Why did you say that? You're the one scaring me, now!" Was she trying to be tough? Yes. Was it going to work? Hell no. Nothing was scary or tough about her, aside from her stocky build and the mix of Rottie and Wolf in her blood, but she didn't know of the mix. She just knew her mother was pretty, and her father handsome. The aggressiveness that her mother bore, that caused this mess, didn't run through her body.

She was just this scared pup, lost in eternity, with two strangers (she knew Virgil's name, yes, but she didn't really know her) looking at her. In that scenario she would have run to her mother, her father, even. But now? Panic freeze, choking out words that held hardly any weight.

[Windowmemer]

JORMUNGAND

male — the Pitt — newblood — pinterest board

[div style="background-color: #292727; color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 12px; letter-spacing: 1px; text-align: justify; overflow: auto; width: 500px; height: 340px; padding: 10px;"]

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An amused brow lifted as he rose to his full height, looming over the child. "Oh, I'd like to apologise, I really do." He blinked at her, feigning shame, but something darker glittered in his optics that made sure she knew he wasn't playing. She had tried to snap back at him, but to no avail. He wasn't sure why he hadn't snapped her neck, maybe something in her reminded him of his sister, Baby.
He could see the shock running through her body and knew that she was either feeling adrenaline or really weak, only barely holding up a tough demeanour. He chuckled again, a dark sound, smoothened by his accent.

#psychosocial.

[Kold]

Kold

She wanted to scamper away, she really wanted to. But her body was stuck there as he loomed over her. His apology seemed... genuine to an extend, but the look in his eyes spoke otherwise. She laid herself flat on the ground, trying her best to shrink away into nothing, knowing that it wasn't going to work. Kold's body shook visibly, but her eyes had begun to narrow back. She seemed to try and relax, and slowly her shaking body rose up.

She looked up at Jormangand, trying to stand her ground, though her legs wobbled like sad twigs in a gust. "You didn't say your name, mister." She spoke, trying to keep her voice solid and pronounced.

[Windowmemer]

JORMUNGAND

male — the Pitt — newblood — pinterest board

[div style="background-color: #292727; color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 12px; letter-spacing: 1px; text-align: justify; overflow: auto; width: 500px; height: 340px; padding: 10px;"]

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all of this is ic opinions btw <3

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Seeing the young animal quiver in fear brought an amused curl to his lips. She had previously tried to shove herself into the ground as if to avoid him, but now she stood up, despite looking like a newborn lamb. He observed her with pity as her thin legs trembled like thin branches in the wind. He'd grant her the privilege of at least knowing his names. "Your daddy taught you manners, well done. My name's Jormungand." Swallower of worlds. The serpent. He chuckled. The words were meant to stung, and they should. This was a harsh world. If she broke down here in front of him and Virgil there'd be a problem.

#psychosocial.