Heavens Trumpet With the Song of War

Discussion in 'THREAD ARCHIVES' started by Daniella_Belli, Dec 13, 2012.

  1. The very globe with its terra firma, firmament and bodies of water, various land and sea inhabitants was embraced within bosom of the cosmos by a woman with the sole responsibility of Earth's rotation about the burning orb that is the glorious sun. With just a simple flexing of her fingers to shape the taut string into designs she wished, she could cause the massive marble to shift off its axis, or revolve in a motion countering its normal clockwise movement.

    Below her languid form was the ozone, and under that was a fluffy congregation of clouds which had dotted the skies. A figure unseen behind the great veil of space, her hair seemed shorn from the darkness itself, cascading down her shoulders like the ever-churning tides of the heavens. She seemed to exist in solitude, the her ears filled with the whispers of mysteries unfolding around her as other planets orbited in their intended directions, the whoosh of asteroids hurling through the lonely vastitude of blackness. It was normally a calm environment for her to reside, rarely succumbing to chaos as worm holes formed, or the appearance of celestial bodies becoming destroyed by a more dominating planet.

    Cats Cradle was proud to be deemed worthy enough to be bestowed this wonderful, albeit cumbersome gift, her metacarpals aching from having to support the corpulent sphere without a moments respite. She witnessed both the placidity and calamities of space, her cerulean gaze glimpsing the wonders of other realms, her free hand roaming across the threshold of dimensions man could only dream about beholding. She ever-hungered for the knowledge of all created in the limitless universe, whilst mothering the sublunary object given to her by the Gods. Raising to the station from mere mortal to deity herself, she could still recall her youth as Catrinicus, a terrestial upon the temporal plane she now endeared.

    The memories haunted her sometimes, her mundane life was wrought of woman's work and dull chatter. Cats wished upon a star that she could return to her former existence, if only for a day. Clad in a lustrous raiment as delicate as the airy tendrils of her onyx surroundings, the garment was dusted with tiny, twinkling diamonds which shone as brightly as the stellar structures they mimicked. Her lips adopted a soft smile, a doleful gaze betraying the feigned impression of happiness upon her face. It seemed like an eternity of her spacial confinement, and seeds of sadness sown in her heart. The Goddess wasn't dissatisfied with the power which was thrust upon her, but she would admit to missing the meager side of life, things like walking upon the soil, the rays of the vigilant eye of Ayilta bathing her in its warmth instead of the cold that enveloped her towering vessel.

    http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u66/TrinityDemonia/catscradle1.jpg Catrinicus Cradle
  2. Plants, trees, bugs, bacteria, fungi, animals, humans, all of it, came together in the term 'nature'. Nature has changed a lot over the years and nature used to be treated very differently. The garden of Eden, was seen as one of ultimate forms of nature. Everything lived in a ballance and peace. THis is the only mention of the one true goddess. The one godess who created it all from the tips of her hand and put live to a liveless globe. She was the one who not only created nature, but nurtured it and kept it in a ballance.

    The robe which fell down over her shoulders covering her whole body and even part of her face, was merely to hide what was underneath. Her looks....She was one of the first goddesses, and she decided to take the looks of one of her favorite subjects: The humans. Before they even were created, she descended upon earth, which she had populated with all kinds of different creatures, in the form of a human. Having created her own body from her idealistic designs, she was to be seen as the one true beauty. Her feet gently and kind stood in the grass as she looked over her kingdom of nature. Her legs ran up to her body, and was to seduce the mere thing she was about to create. Her taile, suprisingly not small, but yet magnificent put an emphesis on the rest of her body, much like her chest. Her body was the first of all creatures to have what was later to become famous as bosom. The first time curves were given with the main purpose to seduce male on the mammary glands. They were to be the role model for later references, and ironically, even though they were not big, they had perfect shape. Like a hourglass, on the other hand was her shaped gluteus maximus, which served of no purpose but to balane out her body. Her face, was one of the few things she'd later come not to hide. Her soft red lips, were stolen from the beauty of an apple and her eyes seemed to change colour. Her hair fell down her body accent her perfect silhout, and it's colour was stole from the chestnut, which was to be her favorite nut. Her cheeks follwed on to her chin to form her soft face. This body she took, was supposed to be a role model for next experiment.

    Upon creating her new creatures, she was glad with the result. She liked the humans, and even gave them some special privileges, like the ability to talk to other creatures. The few humans treated her with a respect which only could be compared to the modern god praise: They thanked her every day, brought her food and drinks, and treated her well. Eden was soon to be feeling more comfortable on earth, however, she was also the one to note that the males brought her more respect than the females and that as of yet, there still had not been coïtus. For this reason, she made herself a robe to hide all her seduction, and to not tempt and temper with the lust of man. Not only was her body to be remained pure and virgin, the humans also had to reproduce. It worked. She got less respect, but in return reproduction started. From this point onwards she was to be remained in her coat, feeling comfortable this way. She was like an apple, with a normal red coat, but with the best juice and taste.

    Her abilities were mainly to affect and create organisms and plants. She used her powers to keep a ballance on earth. The way it worked, was that she imbed instinct upon each creature. It gave her power to call each creature at the snap of her finger and even affect their mind set if neccesary. It was usefull....but there was a flaw. Concious was on the other hand, and was contained in each creature to make sure they could act on their own, not needing her words. And in one of her experiments, the flaw grew bigger and bigger, which she only noted when it was too late. Humans had started to evolve and grew smarted. They tried to habitat the world the best they could. They started making tools. From those tools they made constructions. From those constructions they made houses. A part of nature got taken as they decided to do so. Scared of her perfect ballance, Eden tried to change the mindset for them to stop the constructions....but it didn't work. As their intellegence had grown, their concious did so too, and they lost almost all of their instinct from that point onwards. She tried to tell them to stop, but they didn't listen to her voice. It made her sad to see that she had to destroy her most succesfull experiment, which had turned into a major disaster, and she tried to exterminate them using her powers...but she already lost too much grip on them. She couldn't affect them much anymore, and therefore did the only thing she could. She took away their privileges and cursed them with imperfections. She let it go for the moment, still having affection for the humans, and ignored their growth.

    This was soon to bite her back, as more and more nature got destroyed as the human population grew. Not only was she forced to send other organisms, she also felt forced to create natural disaster. Neither worked. The tools gave them an upper hand in this fight, and natural disaster caused a lot of damage, but also damaged nature itself. Humans would just grow and grow like she'd never expect, and her most succesfull experiment had soon not only forgotten her but hat turned against nature, or rather her, the one who created them. She tried to keep a perfect balance, but it was too hard, and with her powers weakened by the losing nature, she was unable to do so. From this point onwards, she was forced to watch as humans had started to slowly populate the whole globe, which she had intented for all organisms and plants to live on, but the selfish humans decided it was their turf and kept it for their own.

    A failed but strong experiment. That's what they were. And that's what destroyed nature and earth. Nowadays, she is still alive, but majorly weakened by the current state. She still likes to reside upon earth and nowadays...she still holds affection towards her most hated experiment. She still holds the body of a human and even sometimes walks in human society, hidden in a changed body, having to add nothing but ever lasting imperfections. She's waiting. Waiting for the day that nature gets a spur of activity, or that yet another one of her natural disasters has enough effect, and that she'll use that day to spread nature, but untill then, she's left to do nothing but wait and watch.

    Eden (My poorly drawn version of Eden. This picture has been done a long time ago. Don't mind the flying eyeball, which was merely another 'failed experiment')
  3. http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u66/TrinityDemonia/Kitten Kaboodle/TerraPangaea.jpg

    Terra Pangaea's toes wriggled in the soil which was hidden by knee length grasses, wheat colored mane stirring in the soft breeze. Like Catrinicus, she cradled the very world in her palm, but her abilities affected shaping the outer shell itself into definable boundries. Transforming landscapes by the various shifting of the uppermost mantle, this yielded uncharted and foreign territories to be discovered and claimed by eager settlers. The slender female whom was ruddied with the staining of clay upon an already sooty canvas, grains of sand disturbed by the gentle gusts would unearth the glinting gems which decorated her dermis. Her very flesh reflected the promise of prosperity to mortals, and the fruits of agricultural wealth.

    Her terracotta colored lips curved upward in a smile, the fingertips of her left hand manipulated the airy material which had encased the globe in a protective barrier and she beheld the lands evolving further, angry fissures adorning the earthen crust as if the it had suffered wounds. Upon each footfall, she felt the soil respond, writhing and quaking beneath the soles of her feet. Her spirit had been bound to a body that was melded of Eden's godly hands, that which was beckoned to wake by the marrying of soft lips, the gift of celestial essence departing from the Goddess' mouth to inflate flaccid lungs. She possessed aesthetic imperfections which were the visible scarring of Eden's wrath. Her eyes were a strange mingling of green and silver, a ringlet of gold encircling both irises. A countenance annointed with Eden's tears, she carried the stigma of being born a creature of failed design, the Goddess chose for Pangaea to bear a peculiar mark which seemed to have been branded with an intense heat as to cauterize the bone.

    Erected at the average height for a feminine counterpart to the male of the species, the contouring of her figure was a sillhouette beneath the robes which seemed to undulate like placcid waters that were animated by the breeze. Pangaea was given the traits of a sentient being, abilities to function like a human in every way. However intelligent she was, she was still subject to error, sometimes provoked by untamed emotion. Twin orbs fixated upon the clouds, she rose her free hand as to shield her eyes from the harsh light Ayilta produced.
  4. Baphomet (This is pretty close to what I had in mind for Baphometh. The only thing he misses is a bag of books.)

    The moon luminates upon earth, the rays of the sun reflecting back on earth to creat the beautifull light we call 'moon light'. It's light has many legends burdened upon it, but even after this damage of reputation, none can defy that it's nothing less than breath taking. It's light is shining upon earth, during the darkerst hours of the day, reaching anyone and everything that dares to lurk out in the deep dark. It looks down, and his attention gets caught by an event.

    Pant, pant, pant. Finger grasp the corner of a stone building. A man passes and pulls himself further as he quickly runs trough the alyway. He turns around the corner. His legs move as fast as he can move them, and his breathing is heavy, but he won't give up. Like a prey, he runs, and runs untill he can't no more. His eyes, his face, was filled with nothing but more fright, but changed soon. It made way for desperation. He glared at the stone wall that stood tall in front of him, blocking his way further. He turned around to look for an exit, an escape, but only found the corner he came out from. Locked in like a rabbit in a cage. From the alyway, tapping noises were heard. Louder and louder. Slowly, the hairy fingers of yet another creature touched the corner of the building, slowly. It didn't seem in a hurry, nor did it seem human. He passed the corner, only to reveal the hunter.

    His hoofs made a tapping noise as the hit the ground, once more, just so he could stand in front of him, the rabbit. They stood about 12 feet from one another (about 3.5 meter). With a clattering noise, he put his scythe down on the ground, holding it. The building provided shadow, but the moon luminated just enough for him to be seen in all his glory. He stood there about 6 and half feet (almost 2 meter) heigh, excluding his horns. His body was full in a pack of fur. He had the body of a goat, but stood up straight. His legs looked short at the bottom but grew more strong as they rose closer to his body. His body wasn't paticular fat. It even seemed to have muscle like us. Part of it was covered by the strap on that hang around his shoulder and fell to his side, where hang a bag. His arms fell down his body, but suprisingly no hoofs on the end. Hands. His face was most remarkable. His glare was almost painfull to see, and his face was just that of a goat's. The couple remarkable things were the manes around his neck, and the red glow which filled his eyes.
    His shadow, created by the moonlight....seemed much like the grim reaper.

    His voice spoke deep, and yet softer. It shivered the bones of anyone he spoke to, and the odd tremble in his voice seemed to infect the ones who heard it.
    "Of course, I took an alyway with a dead end.
    Stupid humand, how did you not understand?"

    A grunt descended and slowly left again. The man who just stared at him in agony, dropped on his knees. He didn't know what to do. He didn't see a way out...he gave up. The man, being human, fought with the last breaths of his life, with mere words, screaming, and begging to be let go. Tap, tap, tap. The devilish creature had made his move again as he slowly walked forward, and which each step forward, the humand crawled one backwards. There was no expression to be read on the face of the creature, but the human was obviously different. It seemed to be the face of fear itself. A tear drooped down his face as he hit the wall, and the creature walked a came closer a lot quicker. With all his might he tried to use his voice to survive...

    With a large swing of his scythe, the creature swiftly put the blade behind the neck of the human, who suprisingly shut up as he felt the cold steel against his neck. He wanted to go away, but the hoof of the Baphometh was already on his body, nearly pushing his head towards the wall, decapitating him...yet he did not do so.
    "You helpless pup.
    Shut up!"

    His voice spoke with more nuisance now, but once again, no other signs of emotion were shown. Not even the slighest tick. The human listen, as if he really was a well trained 'pup'.
    "You should know better than to run.
    That makes it no good for us, no fun. "
    Keeping the same position he used his free hand to grab in his bag, only to grab and open a note book, strolling with his 'eyes' through the pages.
    "David Breght. That is your name?
    You seem like a good person. Such a shame.
    But death does not wait, nor does it choose.
    For death, you're not much different than a mere goose.
    But I can chose, and I picked you.
    Now give up, there's not much else for you to do.
    I'll not make your death in vain, be sure of that.
    You'll give me some results to work at.
    Though, this is not just a mere experiment.
    Also for my joy, but I bet you wouldn't understand. "

    And upon speaking his last words. he pulled up, his scythe again, way up in the air. And he let it slowly drop...down...puncturing his stomach, sliding the blade trough his body, making his way past the ribs, breaking them as it made it's way out again. Hitting no vital organs....He seemed to have achieved what he wanted to achieve. The guy didn't die instantly. It seemed rather like a slow death, as he lay against wall, hopeless waiting for death to come and get him....but he was not given a peacefull wait. As instantly as the sytche struck his body, and punctured him, as quickly did it get taken out again. The gaping wound felt horid and the blood quickly flooded down his body. Baphometh kneeled down, but didn't even bother looking in the slowly drifting away eyes of the guy in front of him. He was more intrested in the wound. His hands brutally, delved themselves into his body as he grasped the first soft tuby like thing he could find and ripped it out, all the while as the person lay against the wall, and just screamed his lungs out. The pain was like no other should feel. He wished for death and nothing more at this point. During all the pain he was suprised how much pain he could take without fainting, but it was not something to be proud of. Still awake, having to live trough the horror of seeing his own intestine taken out, he slowly closed his eyes, dying...or going unconcious.

    Baphometh grinned and dropped the tube which hang in his hand, getting up from his feet. He wiped the blood off on his fur, and took his notebook out again. He also took a pen and started writing things down near the name 'David Breght' including, 'experiment was a succes' and 'test subject was able to live as his intestines got taken out'. Also he made a reference to an old legendary torture device and deemed it as possible. 'Intestinal Crank' (medevil picture showing it; bit gorey). He closed his note book and put the stuff back in the bag, as he shortly took another book out. This one had a weird symbol on front. One of witchcraft and a circle. Also the book was written in an odd language. He looked up a page, and then once again put the book away.
    "As if committing the perfect crime,
    Erasing the evidence is another job of mine.
    No body means no death,
    Missing, that's what will be said."

    As he spoke, yet again he grabbed something out of his bag. A piece of chalk. With it, he started drawing a symbol on the ground, including a runes of a strange origin. Once he was done, he dragged the body on top of his master piece, and lastly. He took his sycthe from the wall. He walked back to his murderous and gorey art, and stood in front of the dead body, looking down at it. Almost sad that it was over so quickly, his face seemed odd. He tapped the end of the sycthe in the circle, and as he did, fire emitted and started to burn the body whole, completely. It was as if the body was filled with gasoline. He didn't even bother watching and walked away from the aly.
    "Now I have to move again, for they are on my tail.
    In the darkest shadows they move, trying to catch male.
    They want to bring me to their owner, back to hell.
    But I'm not going back there yet, that much I can tell.

  5. http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u66/TrinityDemonia/Chapter-Iamora/68406704_small_1_1.jpg

    Ayilta, coined the Sleeping Goddess, or the Sky Being, one lid unfurled during the day hours to reveal a fiery orb whilst the other curtained a silvery moon. As darkness conquered the skies, this lunar orb would be bared, showering the world below in an almost spectral illumination as the sun lie dormant until it would become the glorious star upon the azure backdrop of Dawn's beckoning. These -eyes- would keep a non faultering vigil upon the world below, an unwavering beacon upon all secrets which stirred in the hearts of man. Whether they marched to the beat of peace or war, she would remain a silent observer of life and death with no other way to intervene in their dealings.

    Her role affected more than shedding the bold refulgence of day and the soft glow of night, the sunlight fed the earth and the tides churned according to the phases of the moon. The lunar resplendence sometimes affected behaviors in man, as did the blistering heat of sun spout curses from the sweat drenched farmers. The ever igneous orb was always the dominating presence of the heavens, but the opposing planetoid was a transitory structure. Unveiling it little by little would produce various appearances, spawning differing terminology of the genius of Astronomers. The solar eclipse was a true sight to behold, as the phenomenon occurring only by converging the focus of Ayilta's eyes.

    To remove her from the vast atmosphere she occupied would suffer the world in darkness, where life would wither and die. Many a nefarious entity had vowed to pluck the sun from the very skies which it occupied, as to cast the world into an eternal dark damnation. Prior to this wrinkle in time, Ravenwitch had come the closest to achieving this goal as to realize her dream in overthrowing the temporal plane, binding it in the shackles of evil.

    http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u66/TrinityDemonia/Kitten Kaboodle/forkedtongue.jpg

    "Do you recognize the tongue carress which has polluted your Paradisial parcel? Or have you others since me?" Ravenwitch rose from the sulfurous stench of a substance which bloomed from the soil like the Devil's rotting cruor, her membraneous locks writhing about like animated serpents. As the ground regurgitated her towering form, the lands rolled away from her, creating a thunderous moan from the very nature which was trying to cleanse itself of the blasphemies that coursed throughout her being. "Is that it?" Her rasping words would assult the ears of Eden, as if she were being attacked by a thousand razors.

    "Is it that your reputation is sullied, cavorting with the mortals at your whim? Entrancing them with your seductions, so that they have no mind of their own, that they exalt you in the same stupor that they praise the other Gods?"She waggled a finger before the Goddess, the perpetual sneer widening upon her hideous features. "Mortals are not marionettes. Or, is it that since you've taken on their appearance that you've become too ordinary and unattractive for them to waste breath in reverence? Human beings don't bow to their own, I'm sure you realize this."

    The vile creature spoke as to sow the seeds of doubt in her mind, that Vanity may thrive from her influence. She knew that humans and Gods alike were fickle and desirous of one thing or another. "Your mortals have failed, your first creations succumb to -me.- Shall I regale you in the magnificent tale of your downfall?" Her glistening black tongue seemed to abrade the very lips her words were poised upon, ooze seeping from all visible orifices. Ravenwitch's mephitic tongue slithered up the scabrous bark of the tree, fabled in legend. She placed a foul kiss upon the forbidden fruit, and Iamora's ubiquity was widespread beneath the outer crust of the parcel which was coined Eden.

    The two sentient companions had naught a taste of sin, but Hell and the Sin bred of it would delight in the corruption that would stain mankind forever. The woman seemed a more meldable specimen, her free will more plyable to their influence. She had made a false representation of herself, guised of angelic radiance. She could perceive the thoughts of the woman, as if they were boasted loudly for all to hear.

    They were told that they could have free range of the beautiful landscape, however the tree was to be avoided in any circumstance. It was a testimony to God, that the pair would give unquestioning heedance to his authority. With scintillating colors, Ravenwitch drew the pitiful creature to her impending doom. The nectarous scent of the fruit wafted upon the perfect breeze, she beheld the impeccable pome that was appealing to her gaze. This began the temptation, rused of a cleverly cloaked serpent tongue. Once they became wise to the ways of sin, the angel was seen for what it really was, and Iamora united with her mother.

    Ravenwitch's chasm of a maw opened so that the myriad of abominations held within could be revealed unto them, and her lips closed upon the woman's in a fetid obsculation. Their horrible cachinnations stirred the sands of the rapined Utopia, shaping it into the cornerstone for which generations of the debased could be yield.
  6. Eden knew better than to be affected by such talk. She heard every word, and though they felt sharp as razorblades upon touching the ear drums, they never went much further. She ignored her words, for she could feel what it was that was talking to her. She knew her, or rather was was with her. The foul creature with led to the demise of her paradise. The foul creature which caused an event which would affect all woman from there on. The foul creature that tempted with something as simple as an apple. And sadly it worked. She held her tongue as she heard the monstrosoty speak, and her voice felt like the apple that'd temp her to sin. Only upon hearing the last words, did she turn around, to meet eyes with her enemy.

    The human body deceived and suprised her at first, but her resemblance with was was to be a human stopped quickly. She was like a human but at the same time, she was not. She felt something very different. One of her most oldest enemies. She knew who she was talking to, but she couldn't figure out what was with this vessel. Her vessel.

    Her tongue was ready to move and she was ready to speak, but she could feel only vile in her words. She stared at her rather than said anything the first moments. She breathed out slowly, as she calmed down both herself and her voice. She spoke "I don't need to remince that day again. I know perfectly fine what happened, and I also know who it was that destroyed paradise." She spoke calm and soft, as was ussual of her. "You speak so low of humans. You even go as far as to tell me they succumbed to you. But are you not the one who came from earth and nature, wearing something that originates from me? Are you not in fact, in a human vessel yourself?" She tried to speak in disgust, but her words revealed nothing of that. Rather she was trying to understand not her precence, but why she was here like that.
  7. A spark of mischief alit Pangaea's jewel like eyes, a quirk of her lips allowed for one to see that she was tempted by the fanciful notions which toyed with her mind. She moved in a hurried manner toward the beach, unhindered by any natural or man made obstacles which could blockade her path. She simply soared above these, her body sumersaulting in the breeze,or found more creative ways to move them with the powers she was endowed. She finally arrived to the precipice which jutted out beyond the shoreline, watching the seas stirring and feeling the briny wind upon her face.

    She spied the distended sails in the horizon, which resembled low hanging clouds. What newcomers would the massive ships bring to this land? What intentions did they have here? Pangaea could easily disorient the ships from their original course, where even a close inspection of their heavily penned maps would be to no avail. She decided to bring the mountains nearer, the rocky monuments groaned as they were manipulated, an avalanche of snow cascading into the water below. as if to close them in. Would the people succumb to their own stifled breath as they beheld the phenomenon in horror and awe?
  8. "A"

    The library. A room filled with as much human knowladge. Here people have grown more intellegent and here things have been invented and here ideas have been created and here more intellegence was created. But is there a limit to what is possible and our intelegence? One man does not seem so. He strives for perfection. He strives not only to become the ultimate human, but to suprass the gods and goddeses himself. In a faithfull library, positioned in castle, he sits. His face lit by the luminating candle. A smirk was wide acros his face, as he looked at the scroll which was filled with nothing but blank space aside from it's title: experiment 84. A quil and ink were just aside from it, ready to be used. Also, there was a knife which high lighted against the fire.

    The man positioned himself in a normal sitting position and his facial expression seemed gone. He blankly stared at the silver knife. He picked up the knife and looked at it as he held it before him, turning it around to inspect it. His elbow rested on the table as his free hand opened itself vertically above the table. Without any warning did he stab the knife into his hand, the blade quickly piercing his hand, creating a hole in it. Blood spurted out and dripped down his hand in slow motion. Some tisue, ruptured, hang on the wound...There was no scream. There was no look of agony. There was nothing. He did not even flinch. He only moved his hand, seeing how the force of the knife nearly forced him to do so. As quickly as he pierced the skin, he too, pulled it out. His hand turned, as he took a good look at the wound, and he did not whine. No. He showed a creepy smile across his face instead. Blood kept on running down his arm, finally reaching the table and a small budle of blood was founded. Some of it even touched the side of the scroll he was working on. He dropped the bloodied knife aside from the scroll on the table, and took more interest in his wounded hand. His other hand clenched itself into a fist other than 1 finger. And that one finger...went through his other hand. With a bit of a struggle he managed to push his finger from one side of his hand to the other, bloodied. He could feel the muscle and bone touch his fingers as it slowly passed aside from it. It was a strange sensation. Once again, as he found himself wasting time, he pulled back, looking in an even deeper hole, now even being able to see the tissue like this. He wiped his finger on his robe, creating red paint on a white canvas, in an almost poetic way. He took the quil and dipped it in the ink as he began writing on the scroll, still holding his wounded hand up.

    "Stabbed my hand with a knife and pierced my finger through the wound.
    I didn't feel a thing. Painkilling glands apperantly do work. Pain is supress though I could still feel how the muscle and bone pressed upon my finger. I could still feel how a hole dug its way into my hand and was being filled up. It's a weird feeling.
    He stopped, putting the quil down. He did another quick inspection on his hand and noticed how it the hole actually had started to slowly cover up. He rubbed his face frustratingly and sighed as he took the quil once more in his hand and wrote down.
    "The wound is slowly starting to repair itself, but slowly. Not fast enough. This was the hardest part of the experiment and it still needs some improving. My regeneration skills seem to be fairly slow, but atleast I got them working at this point, which is good."

    "I admit that this was not the most succesfull experiment, but I'm really happy with the results. Soon it wil be time for the hardest challange. The hardest experiment."
    A smirk once again found it's way on his face, but this time it stayed. And not only that, it opened. Slowly. Soft chuckling noises could be heard from his lips as they grew louder and louder. At one point his chuckling turned into a wild manical laughter. His crazy laughe filled the room and reached the ceiling only to echo back to him. It was a strange sight, surely because as randomly as he began, he too stopped.
    "I'm finally starting to near the end of prototype A. I'm finally starting to near perfection. I've got everything: Power, intellegence, health, reflex, speed, agility. All but one thing...immortality." With a frown upon his face he stood up and looked over to one of the shelves filled with books. "The last experiment....Where am I going to find immortality? In science? In alchemy? The philosophers stone? Wizardy? Witchcraft?" His lips summoned the names of many different topics as his eyes passed the books on the shelve as he walked past them. "...Death?" His footsteps came to a stop as he stared at a certain book. He quickly took it and browsed through it, as if to inspect it. His bloodied hand had by now repaired itself mostly and only the blood that was still present was being wiped onto the book. His eyes quickly went from left to right. From up to down, quickly inspecting the pages of this book. Untill. "Raven...witch...?" He spoke, dazzled by the suprising information, spoken of in this book. His smile grew only bigger as he got futher and further down to the bottom of the page.

    "I think I've found myself a way to immortality." he said victoriously as he closed the book and looked around. "Now all I need to do is gather information about the source and locate it and then my final experiment will begin."

    The candle got blown out....
  9. http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u66/TrinityDemonia/Ravens world/Alouette.jpg

    "All that glitters is not gold." Alouette became familiarized with these words all too well, and as she stumbled onto the shores of a land foriegn to her, her voice did not faulter in producing this cant. The remaining pieces which had made up her human form fatigued worse than she had been in her longest venture, she sat upon the boulder overlooking the sea and thought of the events which had transpired to lead her here.

    As Alouette ogled her reflection with a small sigh, a breeze just forceful enough billow her cloak had blown the thin hood off the scalp it sat upon. Lustrous strands of what closely resembled spun gold fell upon her shoulders, bringing to life her drab brown gaze. As she turned away from the mirrored image with disgust, she heard a sound that was unmistakable for a trained ear, the noise coins would create when shifting in one's purse. Her senses had sprung to life then, reminiscing of the differing aspects of gold. The tang of metal as one would bite down upon a coin to authenticate its worth, the weight of a bar in her hand, the shine produced by the precious metal having been polished with a loving touch. There was only one sense she couldn't account for. As desperately as she tried to imagine the scent filling her nostrils, it seemed as if she were trying to remember a dream too vague. The tavern door was being exercised by the inflow of patrons, and she followed in tow, hoping to catch glimpses of coin parting from one hand only to occupy another.

    Taking a seat in a corner booth, the serving wench made swift effort in approaching her. What will you have today?" Alouette thought for a moment, peering around the waifish woman as if her presence was little more than a complete nuisance. "Tea." She spoke curtly, her impolitness causing the woman's friendly smile to wane. "Very well, Miss." She would have no hope for any moments contemplation amongst the slurred chatter of rowdy men, the sound of boisterous laughter reverberating against the confines of the small space. When made up to her preferences and placed before her, all she could do is watch the tendrils of steam rising from the watery beverage for it would be too difficult an action for her hands to perform in bringing it to her lips. She had a cross to bear for her past transgressions, one too obvious and bulky to conceal. Even now as she sat, she struggled positioning the stiff wood until resigning with a sigh, rising from the shaded booth and coming upon the door with hurried movements. "Just give the tea to one of the destitute lot for me."

    Pausing as she took one last looking around, her gaze fell to the dusty floorboards. "Although having been victims of circumstance, they weren't unscathed of the devastations of my past lootings." Alouette urged the woman to lighten her pocket of a gold piece for her troubles and was out the door. The steady plodding of her peculiar staff upon the cobbled street, she turned the heads of all she passed. The townspeople simply eyed her contemptuously, and shook their heads. She had become famous upon these streets, but this had earned her the shun of the community. She was the subject of much ridicule, having incurred the wrath of the Gods for her actions in her previous line of work. The tiny offspring which littered the streets from dawn to dusk had regarded her with laughter and the protrudence of their little pink tongues. "How heavy is the cross today, 'Luette? Heavy with the contents of the coffers you had emptied? The alms you had appropriated by false means?" When the people were sufficed upon her receiving their verbal lashings, Alouette crossed the threshold leading away from civilization.

    A stray jest or two had followed in tow, as if the hateful words had latched onto the tail end of the tattered garment that was draped about her small frame.The radiant orb of the sun beheld the world below. It, like its lunar sibling, ever the watchful orifices upon the valorous and infernal actions of man, shedding light upon every shameful secret they harbored. She knew that these eyes belonged to the Ayilta, the Sky Being. Alouette had heard tales of the deities bestowing gifts upon a pure and faithful heart, but she had seen firsthand how vengeful they could be to those that are impure of thought and deed.

    Sure it wasn't the worst of woes that could haven befallen her, but her palate was an arid landscape and she couldn't extract even a drop of saliva to quench her parched throat. Atone had spared her from what would be a swiftly approaching death from dehydration and starvation, but cursed her thoughts to run rampant of the memories of tasting such savory delacacies and drink. She seemed to be cured for life of hunger, of thirst, of sleep. Most would count these as blessings, but she had not transcended the mortal coil. Each year she would grow older, her body would feel the tolls of age and strife. She looked to her hands, seeing that the black fingernails were brittle and the laquer was flaking off. As much as she tried to turn her focus elsewhere, her attention was drawn to the silver spike that bound her left hand to what appeared to be large staff enameled of white and gold, and its twin fastened to a crystal orb. A she moved, a sanguineous liquid sloshed about, it seemed to be her cruor trapped inside of the strange gem. A scale was affixed to each end of the staff, an old, worn skull inhabiting one and several bars of gold and loose coins filling the other. She was used to the pain by now, but had no use of her hands. It was another stipulation of the curse upon her, the only movement her hands permitted lay in her fingers, which she was able to flex and stretch from time to time.

    The Goddess that afflicted her with such a castigation had not been completely unkind, for she had imbued Alouette with a tongue to weave some meager conjurations, and to afflict those with punishments befitting the crimes they had comitted. She would only be allowed a small respite from her ventures, but her duty to roam the earth and scourge the troubled souls had eaten at her all the while. Alouette sighed, arching her back and wincing as she could not lift a hand to shield her from the harsh light of day.

    Since Alouette had not a free hand to perform the sign of her faith, she quickly observed the sky in genuflection before announcing the name of the Goddess. "Azriel Yula Atone. She was just to cast such judgment upon me. My thievery knew no bounds. I was not a mere member of the common rabble and cutpurses, the unpracticed spelunkers and looters. I, single handedly impoverished the peoples of this land. They lay listless in the streets, and still did I spare them? They were too emanciated and frail to defend their earnings, their heirlooms. I've robbed them of their lives as I also relieved them of their remaining trinkets. I've shed so much blood all in the name of profit, of gold, silver and glittering gems. I was but an unwelcome visitor in delapidated homes and grand palaces. From the humblest of fanes, to the most grandiose of holy structure, I was a blight upon their coffers. I've even stolen the golden idols of worship, and scoffed at the consequences of doing so."

    Her hands were held high above her knelt form, causing twinges of pain to travel along her sinewy muscles. Her head was bowed, her tawny gaze concealed behind heavy lids. "You, too, have sinned against the Gods. I am but an instrument, an extension of Atone's will. Your transgressions have not gone unnoticed." She rose rather unsteadily, slowly turning to face her visitor. "Octavion. I know of your murderous deeds. It is a befouling stench you haven't cleansed yourself of. I do not think it is even possible for this to be absolved, for the Goddess has turned but a deaf ear to you." The scales swayed in the balmy breeze, causing much of the loose coin to spill onto the ground. It seemed as if the shining currency would be lost forever amongst the grass and earth, but each and every one was accounted for by a twist of tongue, magickally appearing back upon the rest of the pile.

    Since this unwieldy device was a cruel whim of Atone, her flesh couldn't be parted from it, nor could it be defiled in any way. Perhaps the gold bars had caught the hungry gaze of bandits, but if they had even attempted to lessen the weight by one coin, they would have been smote by the Divines before their fingertips touched down upon it. Who would dare anyway? Atone's name wasn't a scarce thing upon the lips of mortals. It was often boldly spoken upon the lips of saints and said with less courage upon those besmirched with the stains of their wrong doings. Still there are some that speak it with much hesitation, only after their hearts become too ladden with the weight of their guilt. She brandished the staff as if it were a symbol that was only reserved for the use of clergy, parting her lips just enough to permit words to roll off of her tongue. "Will you speak it? Before the heavens, will you speak the name of Atone and confess before both Gods and Devils?"

    Alouette had presented the rigid staff before Octavion's very gaze, so that the relic manifested of Atone's accursed design would seize him, to force a contrite admittance of his horrible secrets. It was an immaculate thing, unflawed by the slightest of imperfections. The ornate, intricately whorling bark was forged into existance to serve as both a curse and a gift, for it may serve as a direct essence of Atone's divinity. "Behold the staff and you shall quake, for you stand now upon the precipice of your damnation." His unsuccessful attempt at evasion had transported him back to the place he stood only moments before. The blades of grass were bent in an impression of his feet. "Do you wish for the ever burning flames to lap at your body, your soul? You cannot escape your fate!"Her tone was fervored in context, but her voice was monotonous, manufactured.She did not smile or frown, and her eyes were not alit with fury. The flesh of her face seemed but a masque of dead skin and muscle, that lie atop of bone like unworked clay. Her eyes were hollow gateways to her soul, his visage painted upon brown hued irises.

    Whether he plead to the heavens above or reviled them, it did not matter. She would have to perform the rites which would chastise him for his wickedness. She couldn't simply turn her cheek, or ignore her orders. This would be a worse grievance than blasphemy. Her instructions were penned by the hand of Atone, forever ingrained upon her labrinthian mind. The blood that coursed through her veins pump throughout her small form to the symphony of the ethereal beings, her heartbeat drummed with the vigor bestowed upon her. "You have been weighed, measured, and found wanting." The silver buckets bobbed about as she moved, contents shifting as she stepped to close in on Octavion as if she sought to snuff out all the oxygen around him, despite being outdoors. She sought to suffocate him, as if his struggle for normal respiratory function would coerce an avowal of his misdeeds, and worthy himself for Atone's forgiveness. "Does your tongue lie still? Such arrogance shall be the death of you, lest you forsake this reckoning. The truth shall ever ring within your soul, wrought with the torment of your crimes." The air seemed to grow cold then, frigid fingers tearing at her cloak as if in a such a motion to snatch it from the body the sable colored cloth had enveloped. Her flesh did not seem to react to the sensation of the benumbing weather, the winds seemed to be conjured of the deepest part of the forest where not even the tiniest beam of sunlight could pierce the heavily leafed treetops. "You shall feel the humiliation of a death before the eyes of the community, under the light of the moon. You shall feel the venom of the crowd, recceiving not an ounce of sympathy but revulsion in its stead. As dawn breaks over the horizon, you will wake from your earthen slumber anew, but with the memories and scarrifications of your said deaths, so that you may behold your marred vessel and suffer the consequence of your actions always."

    The newcomer was acknowledged in a state of mingling confusion and anger, her words stalled in her throat. Then, she observed his predicament. Beads of perspiration had bloomed upon his skin, it was apparent that he was agonized by some sort of adversity. She knew not how to approach this pained creature. "Much woe betides you." Alouette stated the obvious, planting the bottom of her staff into a patch of barren earth. "Are you also wracked with suffering for a trespass that weighs heavily on your soul?" His body reacted in such a way that it appeared he was smote by lightning, causing him to convulse before her. "Were you covetous,lustful, or...was it more sinister? Do you seek to be bathed in blood that will cleanse you of your immoralities? Speak the name of the Goddess and recant!" The blood contained within the walls of the crystal orb began to roil with a thunderous sound. If one were to witness it, it would seem as if the bubbling juices stirred to such a sudden increase of heat that it threatened to escape the sanctuary within in an eruption of broken glass.

    After several moments of examining under a keen gaze, Alouette shook her head softly. "It seems that this unfortunate fellow had trifled with the Gods, and what heedless of the consequences of what would be to come of doing so." She could only utter a few last words his direction in parting, "I pray Atone has mercy on your soul." Her concentration was once again directed to Octavion. "Eat, drink and be merry, for tonight will be the last of your mortal life unerred by the ravages of death. A strong imbibement perhaps? Alcohol could be one's most cherished friend at a time like this. What of your most baser appetites? Of course, I cannot help you with those." She started back into town, leaving Octavion and the mysterious man behind.

    The streets were abuzz with excited chatter, forming thrown together committees as if to discuss crudely formed ideas for the festivities which would be taking place at darkfall. The gleeful cries of celebration became like a living entity,conjured into being by the sheer merriment and humor of what was supposed to be a wholly somber and sedated occasion. Did they not care that the the heavens will become ablaze with the fires that would gredily consume one of their own, that his flesh and bone would be reduced to ash before their very gazes? They almost seem to beseech the Gods that this would come sooner. Alouette maneuvered through the crowded 'square. It seemed only merely moments after she had cast such dire judgement on Octavion, yet a pyre had already been erected in his name. The melodical clang of the crier's bell seemed add a musical tone to the situation, the raucous noise of song and dance of the drunkards after becoming inspired of sipping on liquid courage. She hoped that he would join accompany her this day, for it seemed a rather morbid notion that he would wish to spend his remaining time alone.

    She stepped into the tavern, feeling herself becoming upswept in the tide of new arrivals. Alouette attempted to smite at the hands that seemed to probe her frail form, but felt herself falling under their clusmy grasps before she could utilize her staff. Mead and wine continued to flow, and she had to squirm out of the way or become trod upon as if she were fresh soil. Even the Lawmen had taken up drinking, so there was none to enforce order in the chaotic streets. She searched for Octavion in thought, as if she could transmit a telepathic beacon his way. Soon the interior of the hovel was further put into disarray, loutish men assailing one another with their fists and and tankards.

    She heard the sound of breaking glass as the body of an especially rotund individual collided with the window, and his body landed in an askew position outside. She feared becoming trampled, and it was not an easy task to migrate to safety through the inebriated lot. The others began taking their place before the stage the convict would grace later that night. It was as if these people wished for an unobscured look of their own reflections in his gaze, feel the heat of the burning effigy. The community seemed to crave bloodshed in all of its forms.

    She suddenly became emboldened by the asperity of her patron Goddess, as if she was but a conduit for the roiling cruor that now surged up the length of the staff, seeking an import to her veins. She became an idol of vengeance, rising from the floor as if guided under arm by unseen beings. "Jubilee upon a day that one of your peers is condemned to face his execution , such impertinence. Becoming inebriated upon the wines that flow in celebration in lieu of such a grave matter. The bottom of the staff struck the floorboards, sending both living forms and inanimate structure to encounter one another with painful results to the former of the two. The drunken individuals stumbled to their feet, easing away from the female utilizing swaying scales. Most were too hesitant or too intoxicated to control their bodies enough to divert from her path.

    "You shall suffer for your mockeries as Octavion struggles with coming to terms of his impending execution! The energies of your derision and antipathy have festered within you, and you shall wear the pox you placed upon yourselves!" The multitude of people which had occupied the tavern had begun to exhibit the signs of judgment cast down upon them from Atone. Flesh had yielded from bone, displaying bloody rifts upon what had been canvases previously unblemished, but a abrupt turn of cheek had been not enough to satisfy the Goddess. The maimed herd wailed their repentance for their actions, but Alouette continued to rain down wrath at its most absolute form.

    They looked as if they were cast into sanguinary waters, most were sputtering on the vital fluid that filled them from wounds which were located in inconspicuous places. She could hear bones fracturing, as if they had stood a persecuted lot before their peers that were armed with the favored, albeit crude projectile arsenal of their age. Smoldering embers manifested upon their skin, boring holes into pliable tissues. "Now, that's I've caputured the audience befitting of a vessel of the Divine Atone.." She cleared her throat authoritatively, hearing naught but the sounds of a sinewy membrane working upon the faces she beheld to seal their tongues within. "We shall treat this solemn occasion as what it should be." She surveyed the butchered masses, directing the tip of the staff at a point toward the door. The wooden wall was obliterated, showering the town in splintering bits. "We shan't be late, tis almost sundown." Her voice returned to a tone that was normal for her, as she felt the power of the Goddess that had seized her body departing.

    She made her way to Ulfric, a blush upon her rather drained pallor. "I do apologize for that ..spectacle. Are you quite alright? I'm certain I could find something to dress your wounds if you wish for my aid. She had heeded his words, finding no way to answer them at that moment. She shook her head softly, recounting the curse she had placed upon the man, and that he was to be executed. He seemed have already realized this, as it was most difficult to keep such a discovery a secret amongst the petite community.

    "His crimes of murder shall not remain disregarded, and the reproof of a hallowed tongue shall lash him until his parting breath." Upon becoming engrossed in both conversation and the nagging curiousity of the man before her, she had not noticed the sun sinking upon the horizon. "I suppose it is time." She ushered the people out of the tavern, which was filled to capacity. The crowd witnessed his absolution in the form of a sanctified fire, in silence. She bowed her head, shutting away the sight of his crisping flesh.

    She had just realized that their chance meeting was devoid of introduction. They spoke as strangers, but she was certain to remedy such a gaffe on her part, and privy him to her identity. "I am Alouette. What name do you own? Her facial features softened, although some of Octavion's cremated remnants were aloft in her direction and she was unable to lift a hand to bat at the air that tickled her nostrils. Embers that alit the night like fireflies stung her eyes, making them lacrimate a salty substance that mingled with his ash to sooty her cheeks. This nuisance played at the muscles beneath her epidermis, causing her eyes to open and shut rapidly, her nose and lips to twitch. Suddenly, it appeared that she was touched with a soothing hand, one that was undetectable to the people around her.

    "Atone is an unforgiving Goddess. The hale of the Trinity." Her composed form went through a rather violent transition then. she had surrendered control of the appendages that were unattached to the cumbersome rod, piting her against the convulsions that overwhelmed the sylphlike female and and brought her to her knees. "So you say that -my- judgement is unwarranted? Have I erred somehow?" Something writhed within Alouette's form, and she then fully succumbed to the conflict occuring in her, and the entity revealed itself upon her flesh in the form of smoldering fissures that exuded a molten cruor. As she became alivened within the human husk, Alouette's head was thrusted back so that the Goddess could behold the man with a turbulent gaze. "I -am- Atonement..but these pitiful specks do not deserve my absolution... the disgraceful, the unrepenting! The vulgar, weak, liscentious lot! I shall rise the very flames of perdition to enkindle the land, I shall bring down torrents to cleanse the wicked from the face of the earth!"

    The very ferocity of her voice had obliterated most of the sound structure about them, and the town's inhabitants were given the gift of flight in a violent upheaval, although the one she was communicating with remained unscathed by her whim. "What roils within you? You do not suffer afflictions by my doing, so what wracks your body?" Alouette rose, making her way upon the charred corpse that was Octavion. "Octavion, I bid you to stir within your expired form, I bid you to awaken, and your body shall shudder with its first breath!"

    "Silence! You may be the harbinger of a wholly benevolent God, but I will not have you sully my ears with such nonsense. These mortals need to be chastised, they need to be disciplined! Or the sin in their hearts will run rampant, and consume everything upon this temporal plane. The fetor of the chaos that eats them from the inside will despoil the earth, and it will become a ruinous landscape where nothing shall thrive!"With that, the uncompassionate being was evulsed of Alouette, who collapsed upon the flinty soil. Her hands showed no wear of the ordeal,fortified flesh reinforced to her staff, so she would evermore wear the stigma cast upon her. The rest of her weary body had not escaped the trial without blemish, for she was branded with a lattice work of scarring. "It is a delight to make your aquaintance, then." A rosy tinct to her cheeks, she turned briefly to eye the plume of smoke that rose from the kindling at the base of the pyre. Then she assessed the destruction of the town, becoming disheartened that the population was reduced to such an extreme, that their homes were banished from the plot of land they were erected upon. She recalled his words prior to her metamorphosis, and closed the gap between them.

    "I show concern because I am a compassionate creature amongst those of hardened hearts. "Antipathy is a sin. It is a gateway for more grave of transgressions, as you've witnessed a few moments ago. The people extended not a prayer for the salvation of this man. A stipulation of his curse was that his peers may not reflect sympathy unto him, but it is ultimately one's free will that could have meet this with opposition. Instead they chose to surrender to their predilections of hatred for those who are different, and the tavern roared unto the heavens in their carousal." Alouette's voice lowered in decibel, and strummed upon timid vocal chords. "You must be famished, good Sir. I have some coin I could part with if you'd care to join me for a meal. The neighboring town is famous for its bistro. There are also many shoppes that offer a bargain for their provisions, if you may require anything." With a soft nod, she then turned in said direction of the next town, looking upon the rooftops that seemed to reach miles into the sky from the close vicinity they were standing.

    Although the harshness of his words had not riled a discernible display out outward emotion, her inner feelings were like an eye of a storm, the momentary calm that would lull one into a false sense of safety. "Do you think I receive some sort of enjoyment of this? Do you perceive me as not standing here before you, but with my feet prancing and my hips in gyration to the sounds of my own merriment? If so, your eyes must be plagued by illusion or you must be suffering from a psychosis of which there is -no cure for!- I am but one of the unforgiven, castigated by Atone for my previous exploits. I am but her vessel, she had deemed me worthy to inhabit her body, to enforce her order! I wish not to incur her wrath again, for my weak form could not survive such..malediction. Look at me!"

    She mustered her strength in attempting to pry her hands from the cumbersome relic, to show him that the spikes would be driven deeper into the wood. This act had caused her much pain, that would overwhelm the tranquility of her features. "Wouldn't you think that perhaps I could be inclined to use my hands, if tempted with coin or beverage? My palate yearns for the tastes of food and drink, the bite of whiskey and pungent spices of curried lamb! I am forever relieved of having to partake of these as a way to sustain life, but flavors dancing upon my tongue shall be like the ravages of time upon dream once so vivid. I suppose I had taken these petty endeavors for granted when I possessed the capabilities to sup."She frowned, feeling insulted and rejected by Ulfric.

    "It pains my heart that through my veins, I brought life to my Goddess. My body was just an instrument for her to dole out destruction, my legs were but a vehicle for her Divine form." In a flash of premonition, she would see two silhouettes. "There are two overlooking our conversation." Alouette uttered, oblivious to anything else taking place at that moment. Unbeknownst to both God and mortal, there was to be some strange energies coming from the new presences which would interfere with the efforts of Atone, channeled through the human conductor she inhabited.