09-14-2017, 09:48 AM
<link href='http://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Cinzel' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'><center><style> .longclawcontainer {background-image:url('http://i.imgur.com/tFlQITy.png'); width: 550px; height: 310px;transition: .3s;transition-timing-function: linear;} .longclawcontainer:hover {background-image:url('http://i.imgur.com/QEhJdNL.png');} .longclawbackground {background-color: #0b191e; background-image:url('0b191e'); width: 550px; border: 1px solid black; box-shadow: 0px 0px 20px #000;} #longclawmessage {width: 450px; padding: 20px; border-left: #539aa6 2px solid; border-right: #539aa6 2px solid; margin-bottom: 20px; text-align: justify; line-height: 12pt; font-size: 12px;margin-bottom: 20px; color: #3588a5;opacity: .7;} #longclawquote {margin-top: -10px; margin-bottom: 15px; font-family: 'Georgia', serif; text-transform:uppercase; font-size: 12px; color: #539aa6; line-height: 11pt; text-shadow: -1px 1px 10px #000, 1px 1px 5px #000;transition: 2s;background-color: #112830; box-shadow: 0px 0px 5px #000;} #longclawquote:hover {color: #d4e9f0;background-color: #112830; box-shadow: 0px 0px 5px black; text-shadow: 0 0 5px #000, 1px 1px 1px #000, 0 0 15px #d6eaf1;} #longclawname {margin-bottom: 5px; font-family: 'Cinzel'; font-size: 30pt; color: #539aa6; text-shadow: 0px 0px 10px #000, 1px 1px #000; line-height: 15pt; margin-top: 20px;margin-bottom: 10px;transition: 2s;background-color: #112830; box-shadow: 0px 0px 5px #000;} #longclawname:hover {color: #d4e9f0;background-color: #112830; box-shadow: 0px 0px 5px black; text-shadow: 0 0 5px #000, 1px 1px 1px #000, 0 0 15px #d6eaf1;} </style><div class="longclawbackground"><div class="longclawcontainer"></div><div id="longclawquote">Don't be afraid when the night wolves cry,<br>feast on their bones, suck the marrow dry.</div><div id="longclawmessage">Diorae doesn’t say yes or no. She never will, so Longclaw realizes with alacrity that <i>he</i> will decide for her. Could it be this way, he wonders? Could he lead her to hell and yet still retain mastery after she returned? He doesn’t know (how could he?) that she’s already been there, seen things that might even give him cause for unrest, and come back only to be swept into his path of destruction. It would seem that poor Diorae’s life was fated for ill use; her being a mute could only make it worse.
How much worse she has yet to find out.
Longclaw’s final act had been to ask her to follow - well, ask her to <i>come with him</i>, technically, but he doesn’t even give her the opportunity to nod before turning away to plunge into the ocean. Step by step the two wade through the wide berth of brackish water while the tide sucks sand and sea backwards. Their passage is only daunted by the water at their breasts, many had made the trip from the field to Tephra with little difficulty and still, for some reason, they seem to be making no headway.
On and on the blue-black sea roils, steady rocking their bodies while they continue without so much as a glance back. Longclaw says nothing; a stoic blue guide that glimmers atop the crest and bough of each passing wave and <i>still</i>, Tephra evades their advances. Something … something is at work here. Perhaps it’s at this very moment when Diorae realizes the <i>wrongness</i> of it all, how the absence of a seagulls cry makes the silence all the more crushing. Her fanged sovereign stops, stands tall and unmoving while his navy tail spreads into an undulating fan around him, and slowly turns a handsome visage over his shoulder to peer at her with sclera-white eyes.
<i>“Come,”</i> He says, but his voice and body are no longer his to control, only something of a puppet held by godlike strings. <i>“and be transformed.”</i>
He turns away. They move ahead. The shore of what might have once been Tephra is now suddenly right beneath them, inclining upwards and leading them both to the gaping mouth of an ancient cavern. It’s there that Longclaw stops - this is not his fate, he realizes - and with eyes blinking wide in sudden realization of where they’ve ended up, turns aside to where the innocent Diorae waits. <b>“Go.”</b> He nods to her, meaning that <i>she</i> should pass underneath the teeth of stalactite at the entrance of this strange lair. <b>“For me.”</b> The shifter explains with a broken smile.
<b>“My golden Marigold.”</b> He whispers with a strange air of possession, leaning in to smell her sunkissed skin before his lips press hungrily to the flat of her shoulder. His mouth lingers, begins to burn until the intensity is almost unbearable, and then withdraws so that the image of his handiwork might be revealed. The outline of a wolf’s paw is evident, branded into her flesh with his own power. A parting gift, of sorts. <b>“So that he might know who to return you to, silent canary.”</b> The blue devil chuckles.
<b>“Now go.”</b> He commands.
She does.</div><center><div id="longclawname">Longclaw</div></center></div></center>
ooc: Full disclaimer, Sapphire has read and approved this post. Longclaw is simply here to drop Diorae off at Carnage's fun-time kiddo playground for the god's approval. <b>Diorae</b> will be the one entering and replying to all future prompts
How much worse she has yet to find out.
Longclaw’s final act had been to ask her to follow - well, ask her to <i>come with him</i>, technically, but he doesn’t even give her the opportunity to nod before turning away to plunge into the ocean. Step by step the two wade through the wide berth of brackish water while the tide sucks sand and sea backwards. Their passage is only daunted by the water at their breasts, many had made the trip from the field to Tephra with little difficulty and still, for some reason, they seem to be making no headway.
On and on the blue-black sea roils, steady rocking their bodies while they continue without so much as a glance back. Longclaw says nothing; a stoic blue guide that glimmers atop the crest and bough of each passing wave and <i>still</i>, Tephra evades their advances. Something … something is at work here. Perhaps it’s at this very moment when Diorae realizes the <i>wrongness</i> of it all, how the absence of a seagulls cry makes the silence all the more crushing. Her fanged sovereign stops, stands tall and unmoving while his navy tail spreads into an undulating fan around him, and slowly turns a handsome visage over his shoulder to peer at her with sclera-white eyes.
<i>“Come,”</i> He says, but his voice and body are no longer his to control, only something of a puppet held by godlike strings. <i>“and be transformed.”</i>
He turns away. They move ahead. The shore of what might have once been Tephra is now suddenly right beneath them, inclining upwards and leading them both to the gaping mouth of an ancient cavern. It’s there that Longclaw stops - this is not his fate, he realizes - and with eyes blinking wide in sudden realization of where they’ve ended up, turns aside to where the innocent Diorae waits. <b>“Go.”</b> He nods to her, meaning that <i>she</i> should pass underneath the teeth of stalactite at the entrance of this strange lair. <b>“For me.”</b> The shifter explains with a broken smile.
<b>“My golden Marigold.”</b> He whispers with a strange air of possession, leaning in to smell her sunkissed skin before his lips press hungrily to the flat of her shoulder. His mouth lingers, begins to burn until the intensity is almost unbearable, and then withdraws so that the image of his handiwork might be revealed. The outline of a wolf’s paw is evident, branded into her flesh with his own power. A parting gift, of sorts. <b>“So that he might know who to return you to, silent canary.”</b> The blue devil chuckles.
<b>“Now go.”</b> He commands.
She does.</div><center><div id="longclawname">Longclaw</div></center></div></center>
ooc: Full disclaimer, Sapphire has read and approved this post. Longclaw is simply here to drop Diorae off at Carnage's fun-time kiddo playground for the god's approval. <b>Diorae</b> will be the one entering and replying to all future prompts
![[Image: sScEgld.png]](http://i.imgur.com/sScEgld.png)