Dabbling
04-24-2014, 12:10 PM
(This post was last modified: 04-26-2014, 08:25 PM by Othello I.)
Panic flitted through the female as she cowered in the forest, her body shaking like a leaf in the wind. She had almost lost it, her mask had slid and someone almost saw her true self. She had been caught off guard, the female had startled her and she didn't have time to throw up a mask. When the stranger asked what she was doing, honest and sweet, Othello had snapped her jaws in her face and spat at her, anger making her see red. The poor female ran, terrified, leaving an equally scared wolf behind her. She didn't meant to... she really didn't! The feelings would rush up with no warning, snatching away her body and taking over like a demon inside. This is why she wore her masks, this is why she hid her true self.
The white wolf stood up, placing on the facade that she found the easiest. It was the one that she had worn when she ran into Volaxis, one of a seductive femme. Taking deep breaths she settled herself into character, opening her depp purple eyes to view the dark woods around her. She would have to walk around with this character in place, fear of running into anyone knawing deep in her belly. So she marched through the trees, walking until the trees gave away to small bushes, and the soft forest ground turned even softer, sucking her paws into the ground. Picking up her dainty paws, she shook off the water, but it was pointless. It seemed like the lands here only got more and more like a bog, nice and marshy.
Othello's pretty little face wrinkled up as the marsh turned her snow white fur darker as mud clung to her. Ugh, how was she supposed to be all flirty if she was dirty? Mmm, maybe it could actually help. Letting out an airy chuckle, she felt herself relax under the ease of her seductive mask. It was very simple to put this one up, and it began to calm her shattered soul. She was distracted though, and was not paying attention to the area around her. She was too focused on regaining some sort of sanity that she had dropped her guard completely. If there was a wolf hiding in this mash, she had most likely sauntered right past them.
Looking around for a clean body of water to wash herself in, she finally took in the scent of the area around her. All she could smell however was the dirt and mud that clung to her, dampening her pelt and dragging her elongated tail through the ick. Well, Othello would certainly remember not to come this way again. It was going to take her ages to get all that stink out of her. Then at last the scent of fresh water crossed her nose, a small stream bubbling nearby. Trying to pick up her tail as she walked, she slunk her way to the water's edge.
Padding over to the clear, cold stream, she slipped her paws in one by one. When the mud washed off her her paws, the stream ran a bit darker around her coat. Shivering slightly, she began to clean and groom herself, humming softly as she did so.
04-25-2014, 07:24 PM
One, two, three, four, that's the sound of an armies roar. A roar so much like a lion's, mistaking the white femme for a feline. Her rhythm, in motion, every fiber and molecule seemed to grind together in remedies of a melody. So on tune to her own demise, her massive paws creased the soft surface of the mud-covered ground, the beat of her own drums sounded as if bodies were dropping like rapid fire at her command. But instead, nothing but the solitude of her insanity leaked from her pores. The inner caliber of a serial killer, a murderer, a well rounded sociopath was caressing her masculine frame through thick marshes of the swamp that went on for miles.
A flowing creativity of her own making, which swirled around her soulless being with no exception of fading away. This creativity stood out above all, which certainly did exceed in having Sinister look like a pure phantom in the eerie moonlit night. But did this threaten to shred her walls down to where she would turn and flee with her tail between her legs? Hell no, that's not at all who she is, she'll always and forever be the one to laugh in the face of evil; challenge the devil for his kingdom and over thrown him.
Her stomach rumbled, indicating she was starved, which meant it was time for her next meal; her next victim to fall in the hands of defeat. Oh how she couldn't wait to ravish her late night snack with these darling, razor sharp, and blood stained canines of hers. That unholy pink tongue ran over her fangs, slicing into the tough muscle of her tongue, and at that feeling she lapped it back into her mouth to drain her own blood down her throat. Nothing like a little of your own metallic liquid, eh? Now, on to the business. Sinister wanted blood, she was getting anxiety from many miles she has been walking since her last departure from ones land, trying so hard to make further distance to her father as much as she possibly could.
Simply halting, feeling the beast inside of her rake at the surface of her flesh that kept the demon caged inside. Sinister rarely let the monster rage out, though the demonic wrath within her screamed out for vengeance. A scent, a smell so horrid and nose bleeding, that it sent her into over-drive. She has never felt this kind of surge before, one that lusted to tear into the epithelium of a female whom was near by. For the sake of this unknown she-wolf, Sinister wished for her to run and never look back, yet not even seconds passed and the evil wolf approached the white fae with caution. Muscles that scattered throughout her body, much more buff and colossal then this femme cleansing herself in front of Sinister. Sure, she looked like she could be under the impression of a male, but this masculine she-wolf was in fact a female. A quite intimidating, and terrifying one at that..
"Speech"
'thoughts'
04-25-2014, 09:28 PM
(This post was last modified: 04-25-2014, 10:33 PM by Othello I.)
The air around the pale creature seemed to grow thicker, as if something dark and evil entered the vicinity. The hum that had been spilling from her maw ceased, her whole body freezing in the water. Her long tail drifted down stream from her body, purple irises scanning for this dark being that had interrupted her quiet bathing session. When her eyes landed on a beast who shared her coat colour, her mask slipped. Even though they looked alike, whatever was inside that dame was sinister and dark. Othello may not be perfect, but she was far from evil.
Even though Othello was bipolar to say the least, something came over her then, and she let it. She usually fought back her own emotions, but something more basic was kicking in. Instincts. She didn't see to run into them too often. The damsel felt her own lips pulling back, her ivories barred at this stranger. She did not move from her position though, nor did she say anything. Her eyes simply bored into the beast, trying to get a reading on what she wanted. There seemed to be a base urge within the wolf before her, and she couldn't get anything off of her. Nothing except for the pure evil that roiled off her very form.
Othello felt the water softly pull at her leg and tail, slowly numbing her toes. That was not the forefront thought on her mind. She was unsure if she should run, or if she should stick her ground. The female's eyes were predatory, more so than an average wolf. It had been quite awhile before she had run into someone like this creature, and her mind was racing. Slowly taking her in, a small growl passed through her clenched teeth. She was nervous, but fear was not present. Okay, maybe a bit. But she did not let it take over, she instead focused on the base need to fight. That would keep her going in this battle. If it indeed came to that.
The silence that spread between them was driving her crazy. She needed something, she wanted her voice to break this barrier that wrapped its claws around them. "What is it you wish?" She asked, her voice sounding strange to her own ears. It was guttural and raw, no where near her usual pitch. But she was unsure, she didn't know if this was going to come to blows. From the look on her face though, it would most likely.
04-25-2014, 09:57 PM
"What is it you wish?"
Silence. That one annoying sound that buzzed endlessly in your ear drums soon took hold, driving it's talons into your skin and making sure to leave back some scars. Yet something stopped this on going cricket remedies by just the voice of the female before Sinister. Everything came washing over the evil wolf like a raging tidal wave, trying to grasp a hold of what this young women had preached at her. A few responses came to mind, though none suit her needs to let roll of the edge of her sinful tongue. She'd be telling a lie if she spoke her rights now, and this wolf was not to keen on lies. So, she had to rush into her senses and finally begin to unravel the deep obsession of unfathomable words -- surely one that could make anyone, mortal or immortal being melt with fear.
" What do I wish? ... Blood, that's what I wish for. Maybe yours, love?"
What she had said wasn't much of a question, it was a mere fact and statement. Intending on moving towards the femme, whom looked so much like her aside from the purple eyes and black markings -- the two were equally matched in appearances but Sinister had this unknown she-wolf beat by muscled fundamentals. Yes, Sinister is very powerful, and what she lacks in speed she makes up for in brute strength.
Baring canines so that now they flashed violently, her silver oculars beamed through the wolf's soul, aiming to shatter any boundaries she had up so that it would be a lot more easier to manipulate her. All Sinister wanted was a little taste of her blood, was that to much to ask? Probably, and they may end up spilling each other's blood here in about two seconds, but it shall be worth the while if it means blood has fallen. With her now soaked legs, her fragments rippled with the shifting of her muscles, and the fae stopped in front of the female she still has yet to know the name of. Sure, the two could possibly wind up becoming lifelong friends, that is, if this she-wolf can keep up with Sinister's demonic entrancement. Then we'll just have to see if Sinister can drop her walls down a bit to let someone in..
This time that the evil femme spoke she had the calmest, but still evil flourishing tone one could ever embrace upon.
" Names Sinister."
"Speech"
'thoughts'
04-25-2014, 10:32 PM
(This post was last modified: 04-25-2014, 10:33 PM by Othello I.)
When the other beast spoke at last, Othello had almost wished that she had stayed silent. Her body shuttered at her words, a low growl vibrating in her throat. While her fear did grow, something else did at well. This female was pulling at her mental health, maybe feelings crossing her own mind. Her facade had slipped, so it was very difficult for her to keep her emotions in check. While fear was there, it was being shoved back by a sudden and violent anger swung its ugly head. She snapped her jaws, her tail lashing out of the water, spraying bits of liquid all over both wolves. Her emotions were switching so quickly and violently, it was hard to keep track.
When the other walked around her, her eyes followed her every move. Anger flared and subsided, making her mind spin. It was hard to keep focus on anything, let alone on the circling fea. When she once again stood before her, now damp from the river, she noticed just how different they actually were. Othello was lithe and small, build for speed. This one was bulky and masculine, made for ripping and fighting. She probably could out run her, but that wasn't an option. This had not come to anything yet, while there were threats nothing had been played out just yet. Othello was no coward, she would stand and fight if it came to it.
While her emotions played tag within her mind, she watched the dame change feelings herself before her. Huh, so she was not the only one who fought with something inside them. Surprising herself, a small smirk lowered her lips and tugged them into a more pleasant appearance. She introduced herself as well, making the ivory dame realize she had not spoken again. "Othello." She stated simply, her voice still sounding harsh. The dame sighed softly, although she appeared more calm her hackles were still up. She was herself, and at the moment that installed more fear within her then this pale one named Sinister. Huh, fitting name.
"As for blood, do you truly wish to fight?" She asked, her vocals teasing Sinister. While she herself did not want to fight, her mixed emotions were confusing her own mind. It was hard to keep a single thought within her mind for too long. She kept jumping from one thing to another, clouding her mind and her optics. She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head violently, trying to grab hold of anything. She blinked harshly at Sin, trying to hid her internal struggle from this stranger.
04-26-2014, 12:16 PM
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04-26-2014, 05:44 PM
They were almost face to face now, both damp and both waiting for the first move. They were like cats waiting to pounce, taking each other in for all that they were worth. Othello could feel the beast that lurked within Sinister, she could almost see it curled and chomping at the bit to be set free. Both seemed to have tense muscles, anticipating the altercation that was sure to befall them. That creature within the dame is what held her back, she knew that her own rage would be no match for that of Sin's. Her very name made a statement about her habits, more so than just her body.
Othello wrinkled her nose when the being before her spoke, trying not to let her words get under her skin. It plucked delicately at her passionate rage, wispy fingers trying to pull apart her barriers. Violently shaking her head, she tried to rid the ghosted hand, but to no avail. The more her mind lingered at the message behind her words, the more fuel was added to the fire. She had been called worthless all her life, always the suppressed one. But what if she didn't want to be like that? She didn't want to cower away from everyone she saw, hiding from their thoughts as well as her own. She had been abolished and censored out of almost everything in her short years, and enough was enough. She needed to control her mood and grow the hell up.
As her backbone grew, her lips pulled further back from her ivories until almost all of the yellowed teeth were showing. She was not worthless. She was not going to take being a waste of anyone's time. "I have a voice, and its about damn time its heard." She snarled, venom dripping in her words. Although, as quickly as the anger took over, a deep sadness reared its head. Her lips remained pulled back, but her violet eyes watered at the great depth of suppressed listlessness. Othello didn't dare cry before this stranger, but it was too late. Clear liquid ran down her face, following the black marks that decorated her muzzle. With the misery and outrage mixing, she was becoming a whole new fiend. Her body quivered and twitched, her watery eyes looking crazed. "A waste of time I am not." She hissed, her gargled words spilling out carelessly. She didn't seem to be bothered about showing her inner, true self. That was her biggest fear for so long, but Sinister was bringing her into the spotlight.
Othello took a step closer to the pale wolf, raising her head to stare into her silvery depths. Blowing hot air upon her face, her cranium shook with the odd mix of emotions. "I should be worth someone's time for once. I have had enough of being beaten and scarred, enough of being told that I am not good enough. I am who I am, and you cannot change that!" A crazed laugh left her maw, and she was almost pushing her nose right into Sin's. Tiling her head to the side, she relaxed her lips and searched the dames face. "I will be suppressed no longer by a stranger. I will stand my ground." Othello's vocals had dropped into a dangerous whisper, daring Sinister to challenge her now. Sure, her lithe and malnourished frame would surly lose against the brute strength of the opposing female. But if she were to die tonight, she would not die a loser, a broken wolf. She was whole for once in her life.
04-26-2014, 08:17 PM