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    COTY

    Assailant -- Year 226

    QOTY

    "But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura


    [private]  Can you See the Truth Behind a Curtain of Lies?[Bruise]
    #1

    When I had fled Hyaline in fear and ended up at the base of the mountain, I had not known exactly the life's path I was leading down.  Naive to the plague.  Naive to the darkness I had been destined for.

    Waking up from my slumber on the mountain, I had looked to the cragged landscape of which I had come.  My face wrinkles in thought as to if I go back or look elsewhere for a home.  Solace was nice and Clayton was kind, but something was wrong.  I have been lost in my own mind, trying to find just where it all went astray.  Why my memories have evaded me to the point of my confusion.

    My thoughts cause my legs to wander from my rock top perch.  I felt different.  Unawares that the fairies had implanted me with something that would soon transform me into what I truly was.  Who I truly was.  I was the child of Krampus.

    .

    My silver eyes were set upon the open lands of a spring meadow.  It felt strange to be so exposed but neither did I wish to walk through the shadows of the forests.  You never could be quite too sure what lingered within their depths.  My feathered limbs clung tightly to my sides, still having yet to master their purpose.  For being nearly a yearling, my mane had not grown out long like the others my age.  It was short and sparse.  My horns had emerged further, spirling from the sides of my skull.  A short drink of water had shown me this reflected image of something less equine.

    As I travel I use the river to separate me from the woodlands, but to also guide me through the lands.  The soft trickling of crisp water was comforting.  Effectively soothing away my worries.  That is until I hear a crack of twig coming from the forests...

    Kreed



    @[bruise] It is time
    Reply
    #2

    I call him the devil because he makes me want to sin

    Bruise is not what you would call an extremely talented father.

    He is, however, possessive of those that he deems his own—and his prodigy is no different.

    He is not surprised that Kaurma failed to deliver his child to him, and he intends to let her bear the brunt of that displeasure eventually, but he keeps an eye out for his offspring. It is not difficult to find her.

    She bears the markings of the goat, that early form of Krampus, and his eyes sharpen on her as she makes her way through the meadow. He takes in her wings clung to her side, the beginnings of horn starting to curve from her skull. Not like the majestic, heavy horns that rest upon him like a crown, but he supposes that one day she will grow into them—at least something less pathetic than they are now.

    He presses his weight upon the twig, letting the sound of it reverberate around him, tilting his head curiously. His sooty ears flip forward in the thicket of his mane, black eyes sharp with interest. His hand rests upon the Fear, and he begins to play the strings of them, curious how she will respond to it.

    Without waiting much longer, he emerges from the shadows, letting them peel from his body and reveal the ashen gold of him. “Hello there, child,” his voice is cold, his eyes calculating, and he wears the terror like a cloak as he steps toward her. “Tell me, what is your mother’s name?” All the while, he lets the Fear hum behind him, the tune of it rising and falling with each and every breath.

    (and every time he knocks, I can't help but let him in)

    Reply
    #3

    I stumble forwards at the sound of something very near.  My heart beating faster, pressing harder against my rib cage.  My body rushes ahead and then I slow as something takes hold of my mind.  I twist to face the forest.  Squaring my body, the danger I feel rising up my spine.  

    With gaped mouth, I watch ghostly shadows dance about.  Demons of my minds eye and figments of my worst fears.  The silver of my eyes is lost to the white and so one could not tell just where the other began, and perhaps that was eerie in itself.  And just when it couldn't get any worse, some thing steps from the shadows.  It is golden and horned and everything I am.  

    Hello there, child

    I stare up into the face of something less demonic and more familiar than anything I had ever laid eyes upon.  He speaks, like a god, and I am smittened.  What he asks though is a question I have no answer for.  Solace wasn't my mother, but I supposed it was the only answer I could give.  "Solace."  My voice has lost all its tremble that it is usually laced with, even when still the demons dance within the forests behind him.  I feel a sense of safety...But should I?

    The wings at my sides, as useless as they may be, flutter in anticipation.

    Kreed



    @[bruise]
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    #4
    @[Kreed] has been infected by the plague (rolled a 5).
    She will show symptoms (rolled a 5).
    She will not express a trait (rolled a 1).

    @[bruise] is safe from the plague. For now. (rolled a 2)
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    #5

    I call him the devil because he makes me want to sin

    He appreciates the way that she responds so easily to the Fear, the way it roots through her, finding a home in her coltish chest, slender-boned and youthful. He coaxes it further with experienced hands and bated breath, letting the flame of it take hold and flare into life, letting it become something of its own creation. Would she frighten if his experience were to change? Would she recognize it?

    Still, her eyes widen and he smiles, crocodile grin spreading across his sooty lips.

    Her answer to his question causes his nose to wrinkle with displeasure. “Is that what they have told you, child?” He wonders if her mother had tried to hide her away, if she had tried to keep her from him after he had been so explicitly clear with his expectations. Bruise rolls his eyes and sighs, disappointed.

    “Your mother is not very honest,” he says, voice almost lazy as he looks to the ground, not fully ignoring the Fear but no longer playing as loud as before. “You are mine,” decisive, easy, although he has no clear way of knowing that she is indeed his. Call it a hunch, his black eyes taking in the goat attributes that speak to a child of Krampus. “And I think it’s about time you were reunited with family, don’t you?”

    Not that he has any desire to be a good dad, but he can at least show her how to live up to her potential.

    (and every time he knocks, I can't help but let him in)

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