COLD NEW WORLD / joining

[CELESTE G.M.]

♛ BUT IF I HAD TO PERISH TWICE, I THINK I KNOW ENOUGH OF HATE TO SAY THAT DESTRUCTION ICE IS ALSO GREAT AND WOULD SUFFICE —

[div style="text-align:justify;width:48%;font-size:10pt;font-family:verdana"]For the first time, Felurian felt cold. It was perhaps an odd statement to note, but beforehand... She felt not the bite of the cold nor the heat of the sun. The land of the Fae was beautiful, captivating and pleasant. The people in the land, perhaps not so much. Every one of them was beautiful in their own way of course. As a people, Fae were charming and alluring and it was no surprise that when the mortals spoke of them, they painted them as monsters.

They were not monsters - none of them were monsters. Mortals simply feared them, as they should in Felurian's opinion, but she still loved them. They were fascinating, what they did with their short little lives! How their minds worked! She especially loved storytellers, singers, musicians. Men and women who wove words like they were weaving the finest of tapestries, painting the world in a brilliant light. She especially loved the songs about her, the stories about her beauty and her charm and her cunning.

Those stories had led to her doom, it seems.

It is why she finds herself in the land of the mortals, unable to return to the land of the Fae and she hurts. For the first time in forever, she cries and she bleeds. Her blood stains her pure white fur, a gash right over where her heart should be. She knows not where she is, but the large feline falls to floor with a cry. It hurts - and Felurian is not used to pain so it hurts even more.

She knows at that moment that she is no longer immortal. It hits like a cold shock, ice in her veins as she tries to examine why - what did she do to deserve this? She was nothing but kind to the mortals, she was nothing but sweet to the playthings that she took as lovers. It wasn't her fault that they would break eventually... That they would sometimes become boring and she would let them go, but they would go mad missing her. That wasn't her problem - they came to her of her own free will, didn't they?

Unable to move for the shock of it, Felurian waits for the pain to stop. She doesn't know what to do with the wound, doesn't know what death is. After all, she's never had to think about her own mortality before. Why should she have to consider it now?
#psychosocial.

[adomania]

[align=center][div style="borderwidth=0px; width: 55%; line-height:115%; text-align: justify;font-family: calibri;"]Mortality was a funny thing. No one started to question that they were mortal or immortal until it became something they were concerned with, until it was prevalent enough in their minds that it took over everything else until the only thing left was the idea of survival. Because death lurked around every corner, and one wrong step would lead to your downfall once you started to wonder about it. It was usually immortals and children who were exempt from having to think about their own death or the death of others, finding it trivial or simply not knowing about it.

It seemed that both of them were different than their counterparts, then. An immortal turned mortal, dying at the steps of the border that had taken in a child who already knew about death and survival, about what it meant to watch someone bleed out and be unable to stop it. That was the turn both of their lives had taken, and perhaps it was a cold shock to Felurian... but Myliu was used to it by now.

That was the sorry price of survival.

He couldn't bring himself to care much as he arrived upon the scene, summoned by the copper stench of blood spilling out onto the ground. What he found there was unexpected, although unsurprising, as he had arrived here in a similar state and had survived once the medics of the clan had patched him up as well as they could. The scars would amass along with the old ones, and he would continue to live, continue to make sure that he wouldn't end up dead in a ditch like this... woman was.

A soft, undecipherable grunt left the child as he walked over, far more graceful on feet that had grown in after his received care and were now mostly uninjured, leaving behind nothing but scars to mark his history. She would be the same, wouldn't she? She'd survive like he had, when someone would come and help her. Perhaps Gabriel? He seemed to be around during these kinds of situations. He had been for when Myliu had stumbled across the territory.

"Help?" it was the one word he had learned upon coming here, learning that it meant to aid people, to give them things they needed so they wouldn't die. She needed help... he just wasn't sure how to give it.

He'd always been the one to kill, not the one to save.

Another grunt left his throat, a low, worried growl starting up until he lied down a safe distance away from Felurian, chewing on his forearm in distress as he waited for someone to come and help.

[Margaery]

MARGAERY FOLIE-MIKAELSON

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MAKE ME QUEEN OR
I'LL MAKE YOU BLEED

Death, to Margaery, was nothing more than a brief (and frequent) aspect of her thousand year life. She had died so many times, cut down where she stood for the most trivial of reasons, and yet, her immortal soul kept refreshing and refreshing again, forcing her into body after body with no signs of ceasing. There had been one, frightening instance where she thought that the end had truly come, her life force exchanged for her children's so that they could live. But Selene had saved her, stealing her away from true death and the fiery claws of whatever hell a monster like herself would be claimed by. 

She supposed she was grateful for that.

To live as an immortal was empowering. She regularly cheated death all while remaining as young and charming as she wanted. She supposed the only downside to her affliction was the status of everyone else- mortals were not as durable as someone like herself after all. She had learned that the hard way, several lost friends later. Margaery could not imagine being stripped of her immortality though. Even the concept of being forced to live in a vulnerable state where any injury could result in your permanent demise was not one she was fond of.

But she supposed all of that didn't matter, not when the smell of blood lay heavy in the air. For once, she was relatively in control, Genevieve most likely preoccupied with something that didn't involve terrorizing her. She was thankful, especially given the dull ache of hunger that gnawed at her stomach. [b]"We need a healer," The Cosmic General would observe rather unhelpfully, her startling lack of medical knowledge painfully apparent in that moment, "What happened, love?"

© MADI

[tori]

I WANT TO BE FOREVER YOUNG! { .:*・°☆ } ——— [size=10pt]info

This would not have been the first injury he came across on this territory, in fact, it seemed somewhat common. Someone would get injured, someone else would help them get back on their feet, and then they could chose if they wanted to stay or go. Usually they seemed to stay, after all, it was better to be part of a group than to be alone and so vulnerable. It came down to that whole mortality thing. Not that everyone needed company, some of them could stand just fine on their own again they just chose to stay on their own free will with no other need entwined with their decision. Alex was....not like that. He needed the safety of the group or else he'd be surely dead come morning. He wasn't injured or anything when he found the Ascendants, just small and helpless.

The single word Myliu was able to sound off was enough to pull Alexander over to the scene, which was immediately regretted as the sour tang of blood caused his stomach to be hit with a sharp feeling of nausea. He hated blood. Granted, most didn't like it, but there was a difference between simply scrunching up your nose to the scent or cringing at the injury at hand than becoming sick from it. But in this damned scenario, it didn't seem like there would be much else he could do besides try and help. He could turn tail and run, but he'd be leaving an injured creature and a small child together, surely they'd bleed out by that point.

And then, Margaery. Oh, thank god. She could help, right? At least she could keep the situation level.

Alex whined, not able to coherently speak his mind as he stumbled over and in a split second decision, waddled over and attempted to hold the wound closed with his paws. He didn't have any fabric or something to keep it together otherwise, and the only thing his young little mind thought up was "hold it closed".