put your ring in your purse
05-15-2013, 03:07 AM
She was a demonic entity, a twisted mockery of normalcy. Deformed and misshapen, the dame if nothing else, would turn skulls. A massive cranium and fangs long and hard enough to chomp through bone were stained permanently crimson from the lives that she had stolen. Hollow oculars, empty white orbs containing no pupil bore out at the world around her, seeing everything and nothing all at once. Her pelt, once a thick obsidian was matted and tangled, marred by mud and blood... bodily fluids and various remnants of various terrains. The heavy fur was missing in some places all together, large clumps merely vanished revealing scaly almost lizard-esque skin beneath. Scars riddled her flesh, large, small, something in between, and her spine arched up, the vertebrae crackling and grinding against one another with each and every heavy footfall the dame took. She was a beast, a monstrosity, a demon... seemingly chased out of hell to reap nothing but pain and death. She had slaughtered innocents for the sole sake of hearing them scream, pups before their mothers, dismemberment was a fun option there. She had sucked an eyeball out of a wolfs socket, her name and her reputation well proceeded her. She was the nightmare, the plague new parents warned their pups about. She had no lingering home, no territory, she untraceable, flickering to various parts of the island, whatever suited her fancy at the time. Most trembled and ran at the sight of her intimidating mass, the grotesque appearance, whether or not the bitch gave chase... was all a matter of perspective. She had no triggers, no particular instances or traits that set her off... she was unpredictable, a loose cannon even in the best of times. A wolf might cross her path with a warm smile and a soft hello, and Banshee might not even twitch, but should that same wolf return the next day, it was very possible they would find themselves devoid of a trachea and desperately paddling in the dirt in a failed attempt to draw air... Speaking of internal organs... the rat scampered along the ground, lunging for his damsels tail and swinging up onto her back. He traced the rippling length of her spine , shivering as he felt the bones shifting and cracking beneath his feet. Up her neck, between her ears and down her cranium he would peer over her snout to the chunk of intestine that swung freely from one of her canines. With a delighted cackle, the rat hung down, nibbling at pieces from the visceral organ, her preferred it still alive, warm and moist against his tongue, but this would more than suffice. A yelp, a cry of help would pierce the air and the massive dame pulled to a halt. Wraith would pause in his endeavor. He scampered back up her cranium to curl around her ear tail draping down the side of her cheek as he made himself comfortable. Slowly Banshee would turn and head towards the noise. Bemused... well that could either go extremely well or extremely bad for this wounded creature. Wraith wouldn't care either way. The reached her and Wraith was quivering in anticipation, what would she do to this... he sniffed the air... Tortugan? Disembowelment? Dismemberment, would she let him eat through her stomach? He cackled madly at his own thoughts, careening onto his back and clutching his shaking abdomen as he howled, Banshee, having found her standing spot, remained motionless, eyes trained upon the complacent form. She wouldn't move, a statue a stone. Wraith, clearly did not have such an inhibition. "Hey there good lookin'! Whatcha crying for?" The rat would coo to the woman with something akin to interest, Banshee remained impassive, but stepped forward, when almost she had reached the woman, she splayed her jaws wide, her thick, black tongue moving forward to pry the intestine from her canine. It landed with a plop right before the injured woman. "Ah you even gave little Red a gift! What a big heart you have!" Wraith would spout nonsensical madness, falling into another fit of insane cackles. Speech, |