what turns up in the dark; nexu - Printable Version +- Beqanna (https://beqanna.com/forum) +-- Forum: Explore (https://beqanna.com/forum/forumdisplay.php?fid=1) +--- Forum: The Common Lands (https://beqanna.com/forum/forumdisplay.php?fid=72) +---- Forum: Forest (https://beqanna.com/forum/forumdisplay.php?fid=73) +---- Thread: what turns up in the dark; nexu (/showthread.php?tid=18099) |
what turns up in the dark; nexu - violence - 01-30-2018 violence I’d stay the hand of god, but war is on your lips RE: what turns up in the dark; nexu - Nexu - 02-11-2018 She still lives within the shadowy cocoon of Home, although she grows much quicker than others born her age (others she has yet to meet, though their interactions might be clumsy and slippery in the end). Mother only lets her past the barrier when the moon is a quarter above the horizon, and some of the time she is under the chittering protection of Father. They fear something, she’s noticed. Their eyes glance over their shoulders. When she settles among her sisters — whomever might still linger near Mother and Father — they do not protect them nearly as carefully as their youngest. But it is not for the natural predators of the world (the cougar and the wolf, the poison ivy and the swollen river). It is protection from something they have created themselves, the first jealous sister borne from twisted, malicious hips. There is a different scent today, somewhat familiar and yet entirely foreign. She is settled within the shadow of tightly-woven brush when there is a stirring nearby. Someone moves. The girl stirs in return, sliding from between the bramble to investigate further. When the newcomer speaks, she doesn’t understand. It is the language Mother speaks, but there is too many of them for her to comprehend easily. She chitters in return, still a youngster with a curious, expanding mind. Her armored body pulls itself through the undergrowth to come into view of the soft-skinned, dark woman with her bony pet. Who? RE: what turns up in the dark; nexu - violence - 02-11-2018 violence I’d stay the hand of god, but war is on your lips RE: what turns up in the dark; nexu - Nexu - 02-22-2018 As much as she is determined to be different, she is much the same as those before her. The rough, bitter language from the newcomer’s mouth is replaced with a sound that warms the corners of her mind. It stills the instincts that fluttered at the linings of her intestines (“Run away or fight! Danger!”) and so she moves closer, an armored shadow moving against more shadow to dance with the light. The language again, this time with a soothing undertone. Her knife-tail flicks behind her heels, scattering dead leaves around them. There is something burrowing in her belly, warning her that she is not safe. Danger. It’s the instincts again, painful and loud in the wilderness of her mind, but the voice is gentle and pleading and she is a child. When the thought floods in (“sister; let me in; help”) and she can understand it, her large dark head shakes roughly. She can faintly sense the prodding sensation at the back of her mind — it feels like the soft patter of rain on her shoulders or perhaps the weight of a heavy frond across her back. She trills again, but it is more confused this time. Her teeth grind together but she steps closer again, tall legs bringing her within touching distance of whoever this “sister” is. (Sorry this took me so long, I've been so busy D: I hope this is alright for you! I'm fine with taking this in any direction, just as a little fyi haha) RE: what turns up in the dark; nexu - violence - 02-24-2018 violence I’d stay the hand of god, but war is on your lips if you're cool with it violence likes possessing them to go hunting; if not just say nexu kicked her out of her mind immediately and violence will try something else RE: what turns up in the dark; nexu - Nexu - 03-04-2018 It is a precarious dance. The stranger’s voice is soothing in the girl’s ears and with each further push into the depths of her mind Instinct’s sirens are quieter. “Leave. Run. Dang” — The promises of meat and hunting encourage her closer to the stranger. Mother had only released her from the confines of Home hours ago. Father, who normally took her hunting when she was too clumsy or uneducated to take herself, was nowhere to be found. Her stomach feels hollow and cold, bitterly mewling for fresh meat (blood dripping off muscle, tendon pulling from bone, intestine sliding from a crevice of her own creation). There is more saliva in her mouthes than there was a moment before. Her vision blurs for a moment and her muscles quiver. There is a strange sensation — the feeling of being pushed to the corner of her mind, caged like a fluttering bird — and Instinct is screaming. “DANGER, RUN, LEAVE!” But she can’t. She is clawing at the metal bars of her cage, trapped from within the membranes of her mind. She trills, long and sharp. A scream of her own, one that does not leave the confines of her brain. RE: what turns up in the dark; nexu - violence - 03-11-2018 violence I’d stay the hand of god, but war is on your lips feel free to...poweprlay violence powerplaying her? which is what i guess is happening lol RE: what turns up in the dark; nexu - Nexu - 04-02-2018 She is trapped. She feels heavier than she ever has, as though the entirety of an ocean were pressing down on her head. For a moment, the pressure wanes and she is clawing toward the surface (just a thin, bleak little pinprick in the darkness), but it is gone before she can reach the sweetness of air. She is subdued into silence as her body moves without her doing, as a voice sings inside her mind without her voice. She can understand perfectly now, as this creature drags its claws inside her head. The scent of blood scrambles the hollow of her belly and so when they begin to hunt, she does not resist. Kill. They do. They are two in one body (jaws shredding at deer-skin, blood splattering across the broad plane of their armored forehead, grumblings silenced in the depths of the stomach) and for a few moments she fully enjoys the heat of the hunt and meal after. But it isn’t long before she is reminded of the heaviness pressing on her shoulders, pushing her into the floor of her own thoughts. I do not trust you. She is strong (perhaps stronger than Mother or Father, perhaps stronger than Charnel) and with her vicious thought the sister is flung from the monstrous depths of her thoughts. She has the clarity of her thoughts back, her eyesight shifting back into place and her muscles snapping back into her control. She is wheeling around quickly, sliding through the undergrowth quicker than they had while hunting. She reaches Sister quickly, threatening growls rumbling from the blood-slick of her throat. And then she is lunging, maroon-stained teeth bared for Sister’s throat. She will not fall as easily as the rest of Family, she will fight for her own mind. @[violence] RE: what turns up in the dark; nexu - violence - 04-29-2018 violence I’d stay the hand of god, but war is on your lips RE: what turns up in the dark; nexu - Nexu - 05-18-2018 Her lunge is cut short by both the pacing of the bone-protector and the drive of her own instincts. There are more words, slippery and cool on Sister’s tongue, that she doesn’t quite understand but the message is clear enough. “Do not touch me.” Although she could probably take down the bone-creature with minimal damage, she’s still too young to know what other tricks Sister might have up her sleeve. It’s a tricky game they play (one Sister might love, in fact) and it’s one that she doesn’t want to meddle with. She snarls again, a low clicking throat in the back of a throat still slick from the hunt, and her dangerously-pointed tail flicks against her heels twice. But while her position is threatening, her eyes are calculating, weighing her chances. Eventually, she decides. She might encounter Sister later on, but she’s had enough with this interaction. Another couple of clicks and chirps blossom from her mouth, but they are not the curious, friendly ones from before. They are the sounds of words mostly everyone understands in any given language: Fuck off. And with that, she turns and slips into the background foliage as easily as a shadow, tail thrashing menacingly in case Sister might choose to attack her rear as she leaves. @[violence] |