As an active volcano, few creatures venture near Nori for fear of being too close during an eruption. On most days there is a continuous slow flow of molten rock seeping through the mouth of the volcano, so travelers are advised to dress appropriately. (+2 to Endurance)

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Melting [Rated M:E][Done]

Postby Feint » 10/17/2013 1:27 PM

For those that don't understand the title, this RP is rated M for basically all the reasons. STRONG trigger warnings ahead.



He wasn't sure if he regretted this yet.

The land before him reminded him of the most gruesome sort of burn wound, both charred and somehow fluid. Things that weren't supposed to be moving the way they did slid over the surface like a fleshy paste, melting things that he had no idea could be melted. The hair on his back and neck stood sharply up, casting a prickling sensation down his spine as he watched the lava flow. Instinctively, perhaps by memory, he listened for the screaming of the tortured earth, but none came. Silently, the ground paid its toll.

Although he knew that the fire wouldn't hurt him, being the elements he was, he loathed to draw near. Feline claws shivered and scraped into the hardened rock.



--

My wraiths, though not wraiths then, wandered deep into the heart of the polar storm. They tried to fight sleep, naive to the inevitability of their fate. When they awoke, they saw before them my own self, so much a part of the ice and cold they almost fail to see me. I wear a crown of the coldest, sturdiest ice, and my claws and fur have coated themselves in it.
I stand aloof to the cold, for I have lived in it so long, been a part of it so long, it no longer concerns me.

My wraiths are cursed to wander the polar tundra, eternally freezing, following mortal explorers and trying to warn them with their presence that they should not travel onward, should not make the same mistake. But there will always be those who persist in pressing on, never knowing what they are doomed to face, or destined to suffer.

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Re:

Postby Feint » 10/17/2013 1:35 PM

Trauma scraped his bones with its teeth and bled his body dry, but his freedom was more than worth this. He had flown over the tops of mountains and run through the harshest deserts for it; there was no way a bit of scary lava would stop him now.

Shaking, he edged down from his perch. A claw scraped the length of a stone wrong, and the icy, painful sensation rattled the brains in his skull; he drew his paw back sharply and shivered. This caused him to fall.

The fire did not burn him, of course, but the ooze and heat slipped over his fur and skin in a way that was just wrong. It sucked on him, it slurped and pushed and pulled. Yowling, he leapt up and back, shaking and pawing at the melted stone still clinging to his fur.

An onlooker might have thought he was in danger, for the lava clung to him just like it would cling to anything else. But no--he was partly of fire, and the element had sworn a pact with its own kind. He was merely afraid of the slow-moving, blackhearted, ooze from the bowels of the earth. It seemed to live, to move at will, to want for him.

My wraiths, though not wraiths then, wandered deep into the heart of the polar storm. They tried to fight sleep, naive to the inevitability of their fate. When they awoke, they saw before them my own self, so much a part of the ice and cold they almost fail to see me. I wear a crown of the coldest, sturdiest ice, and my claws and fur have coated themselves in it.
I stand aloof to the cold, for I have lived in it so long, been a part of it so long, it no longer concerns me.

My wraiths are cursed to wander the polar tundra, eternally freezing, following mortal explorers and trying to warn them with their presence that they should not travel onward, should not make the same mistake. But there will always be those who persist in pressing on, never knowing what they are doomed to face, or destined to suffer.

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Re:

Postby Feint » 10/17/2013 1:50 PM

Heaving and shaking, he curled up on the rock he had fallen from. Though his back was turned to it, not even his four wings and twin tails could shield his back from the seeping, invasive warmth that slowly crept beneath his fur and fearlessly caressed his skin. He glanced upward for the sky, seeking something he was not quite sure of, but found only the hot, roiling black clouds of ash bearing down on him from the writhing, two-faced sky.

How he loathed the earth.

My wraiths, though not wraiths then, wandered deep into the heart of the polar storm. They tried to fight sleep, naive to the inevitability of their fate. When they awoke, they saw before them my own self, so much a part of the ice and cold they almost fail to see me. I wear a crown of the coldest, sturdiest ice, and my claws and fur have coated themselves in it.
I stand aloof to the cold, for I have lived in it so long, been a part of it so long, it no longer concerns me.

My wraiths are cursed to wander the polar tundra, eternally freezing, following mortal explorers and trying to warn them with their presence that they should not travel onward, should not make the same mistake. But there will always be those who persist in pressing on, never knowing what they are doomed to face, or destined to suffer.

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Re: Melting [E][Open/Self]

Postby Feint » 10/17/2013 1:59 PM

He let out a soft whimper. Cutting through the territory of Nori seemed like a good idea at the time, since his slavers would likely not make it across the lava fields. In the moment, with terror surging in his heart and forcing his abused legs to run, it had seemed too easy to simply block out the fear in his mind and run, or fly, across.

But the lava fields were much larger than he anticipated, and he no longer had the inner strength to force himself onward. He was far too afraid.

My wraiths, though not wraiths then, wandered deep into the heart of the polar storm. They tried to fight sleep, naive to the inevitability of their fate. When they awoke, they saw before them my own self, so much a part of the ice and cold they almost fail to see me. I wear a crown of the coldest, sturdiest ice, and my claws and fur have coated themselves in it.
I stand aloof to the cold, for I have lived in it so long, been a part of it so long, it no longer concerns me.

My wraiths are cursed to wander the polar tundra, eternally freezing, following mortal explorers and trying to warn them with their presence that they should not travel onward, should not make the same mistake. But there will always be those who persist in pressing on, never knowing what they are doomed to face, or destined to suffer.

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Re: Melting [M:E][Open/Self]

Postby Feint » 10/17/2013 2:19 PM

The heat pressed down on his body, the blackness covered his eyes, and the fear gripped his mind with its fangs, but the desperation in his heart slowly brought him to his feet. Wide, golden eyes met the visage of the pulsing, oozing magma straight on. He trembled, but he swallowed his fear. If he wanted to ever be free again, if he ever wanted to truly leave his past behind, he needed to run, and he needed to run now. Trembling, his claws skittered on the stone as he edged back, away from the oozing field, watching as his movements made the lava seem to turn and come to him...

...then charged forward and leaped.

My wraiths, though not wraiths then, wandered deep into the heart of the polar storm. They tried to fight sleep, naive to the inevitability of their fate. When they awoke, they saw before them my own self, so much a part of the ice and cold they almost fail to see me. I wear a crown of the coldest, sturdiest ice, and my claws and fur have coated themselves in it.
I stand aloof to the cold, for I have lived in it so long, been a part of it so long, it no longer concerns me.

My wraiths are cursed to wander the polar tundra, eternally freezing, following mortal explorers and trying to warn them with their presence that they should not travel onward, should not make the same mistake. But there will always be those who persist in pressing on, never knowing what they are doomed to face, or destined to suffer.

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Re: Melting [M:E][Open/Self]

Postby Feint » 10/17/2013 2:27 PM

His strong front paws sank into the stuff, and it pulled and sucked on his fingers. Gasping, he leapt again, then burst into a run. He fully expected the lava to splash at some point, to finally stop what he feared from it and leap away from him in defeated, primal terror, but it never did. As long as he touched it, it seized him, licked him. The disgust slowed him, but the fear forced him on, noticeably giving him an odd halting gait.

He ran until the air turned to a burning fire in his lungs, and then, trembling and tearful, curled up to rest. He had run for hours, yet the end of this torment did not draw near.

My wraiths, though not wraiths then, wandered deep into the heart of the polar storm. They tried to fight sleep, naive to the inevitability of their fate. When they awoke, they saw before them my own self, so much a part of the ice and cold they almost fail to see me. I wear a crown of the coldest, sturdiest ice, and my claws and fur have coated themselves in it.
I stand aloof to the cold, for I have lived in it so long, been a part of it so long, it no longer concerns me.

My wraiths are cursed to wander the polar tundra, eternally freezing, following mortal explorers and trying to warn them with their presence that they should not travel onward, should not make the same mistake. But there will always be those who persist in pressing on, never knowing what they are doomed to face, or destined to suffer.

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Re: Melting [Rated M:E][Open/Self]

Postby Feint » 10/17/2013 7:30 PM

The shrill scream of the morning alarm caused the great beast to jump. He had only shifted the smallest amount when he felt the wet--the nightmares of last night would not go unnoticed. Groaning and rubbing his temples, Kamon carefully pulled the soiled sheets out from under him.

It was hard to keep the past a secret when it kept coming back to haunt you. Kamon knew that the cub he'd been staying with would notice the sheets, but he hoped no odd questions would come up from him or his family. They'd been so good to him so far.

My wraiths, though not wraiths then, wandered deep into the heart of the polar storm. They tried to fight sleep, naive to the inevitability of their fate. When they awoke, they saw before them my own self, so much a part of the ice and cold they almost fail to see me. I wear a crown of the coldest, sturdiest ice, and my claws and fur have coated themselves in it.
I stand aloof to the cold, for I have lived in it so long, been a part of it so long, it no longer concerns me.

My wraiths are cursed to wander the polar tundra, eternally freezing, following mortal explorers and trying to warn them with their presence that they should not travel onward, should not make the same mistake. But there will always be those who persist in pressing on, never knowing what they are doomed to face, or destined to suffer.

User avatar
Feint
I have no life.
I have no life.
Pets | Items
Keystones: 1254
Donate
Joined: 02/17/2008 7:12 PM
Status: ME BIG MAN. ME SWING CLUB


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