[AW]  The Darkest Hour


5 y/o xlarge Male
Belial, Male Mangrove Pit Viper

Innocence dressed this sea of flowers when the sun waltzed through the sky. During the day, the orchard would be inviting and serene, luring prey into a tangled maze of curious wonders. What treasures lay amidst the collection of fresh, healthy green stems and vivid blooms with golden petals? A happy place full of fond memories and positive energy. It thrummed with serenity even as the sun began to dip toward the horizon to leave the heavens graced with lovely shades of pastel pink and orange until they became stained with ebbing violet turning navy. As the sky succumbed to the embrace of the moon, a foreboding sensation seeped into the very soil of the field to accentuate the threat of the dark. The stars, scarcely scattered across the dusk canvas, seemed to dim as though they were trying to hide.

Eventually, the very last trace of sunlight disappeared, leaving the once tranquil grove now deeply over shadowed. Something stirred among the sunflower sea, the quiet, natural lull of nocturnal insects whispered between the tall stalks disrupted by the creature that silently parted the flowers to force his way through them. He made sure to move slowly, though he couldn't stop the insects from hushing a foot or two ahead of him as he navigated the orchard, no matter how intangible his body was as it wavered in and out of opacity. He bled into the dark, melting into the shadows as he manipulated them.

His powers weren't at their full potential, however. He could feel the waning essence, his body slightly reluctant, as though he were succumbing to a strange sort of fatigue. The shadows were a bit slower to respond to his command. He knew not of the coming and passing of Lurid, unaccustomed to the celebrations of the natives here and how it was usually time spent together. He, of course, was alone. On this particular night, when most others would be warm-cheeked with delight while surrounded by loved ones, he would bring chaos to their peace. He had lingered here since sunset, and it was now well into the night that he had remained.

He slithered like a silent serpent across the field of flowers, sure to take his time as he concentrated on his breathing. Pushing his magic outward, he pulsed it through the shadows across the ground for a small distance in front of him, unable to hold his conventional solid connection with them. He lingered for a moment, dipping his head slightly lower to the ground as he picked up a peculiar scent, one that was foreign to him but familiar in its wolven aroma. He moved noiselessly toward the source, his already slow pace lessening further in speed. The closer he grew to whoever else was out here, the slower he moved, carefully placing his paws in clear spots over tangled roots and velvet soil.

"He speaks" "others speak"

table © freakshow
art © xxslow-burnxx


4 y/o large Female

A striped pixie, a fae of ivory and black. Her element was of the most brilliant of light and those inky black lines that zig-zagged along her torso did nothing to saturate the beauty of her countenance. The damsel was curled, tail draped over her snout like a child's blanket as she slumbered. A smile curled the edges of her mouth, her chest rose and fell in rhythmic peace and her eyes, inky pools of swirling galaxies remained trapped behind lids  of onyx. Lost in a puddle of sunflowers, she was embroiled in the fantastical magic she'd always believed in. Faeries accosted her dreams, playful wyvrens danced with her in the heavens and kelpies teased her from an endless pool of starshine. Her imagination was a wonderful thing, limitless in it's endeavors and teasing the edge of madness. Perhaps that fine line made her charming, perhaps that fine line made her disdainful. It didn't matter, Eidolon was who she was and no manner of degradation or enthusiasm would ever change that.

A prickling of sensation along her spine was ultimately what stirred the striped fae. It began as a sensation of foreboding, a warning that one of darkness drew ever closer, ever nearer and that she should stir before they could catch her unawares. Eidolon fought it for a moment. Surely no harbinger would come where such mythical beasts played and danced? The instinct twisted with the suddenly overwhelming sense of familiarity and Eidolon whined softly but slowly let the mystical world fade as sleepy eyes blinked open and a tail slowly slipped away to reveal the lithe face of the pixie. A wide yawn cracked the seam of her mouth and her tongue curled, it was such a wide gesture that it caused her vocal chords to vibrate softly. A shudder eclipsed her spine and she blinked back the final vestiges of slumber, a familiar black frame riddled with only a few short bursts of ivory slipped between the stalks of flowers.

Eidolon blinked but instead of fear or trepidation, her gaze softened and her tail curled around her haunch in distress. Sorrow colored her eyes but she made no effort to rise or move. "Does the Dollmaker still have you?" Soft and low, her words were a whisper, like she traded a secret or some equally important piece of her soul.


Table by Centience.


5 y/o xlarge Male
Belial, Male Mangrove Pit Viper
"Speech." "Thoughts." Others speak.
As the scent of his prey strengthened, the shallow winds blowing it toward him, he realized that it was not, in fact, foreign at all. It was a smell that he'd only recently been met with, a stranger that clearly aimed to become an acquaintance. At least this time he could inquire about the Dollmaker she spoke so much about. Creeping closer, he could hear the shallow breaths of her breast as they entered and exited the cavity of her lungs, with a gentle rapping noise behind them. A noise he'd grown all too accustomed to hearing. The sound of a beating heart was always the first thing his senses subconsciously sought, the muffled pulsation of the organ shoving sweet nectar through her veins as she slept. He listened to her stir, waking silently as he approached. A soft but slicing whine escaped her, the sound shrill and splintering in the beast's ears as he grew ever closer without a sound, and then recognition gave him away. He realized this the moment she lay eyes upon him, beady red pits boring into her in starved fashion. Her milky coat, although awash with ink, stood out starkly amidst the otherwise dark sea of sunflower stalks and chocolate soil. She held no apprehension, but instead smelled of desolation. A subtle pain fluttered through her, causing his ears to tip forward atop his head as his jaw opened ajar to taste the sensation.

"Does the Dollmaker still have you?" she inquired, keeping the volume of her voice low, making it that much harder to hear her over the throbbing sound of her heart. But her words did not fall upon deaf ears. "What is this Dollmaker you speak of?" he asked immediately in an attempt to slate his curiosity. He'd never heard of such a thing, but certainly it couldn't be anything more than a tall tale or a bedtime story. Nocturne knew evil, he knew darkness. It was within him, ever churning, ever constant. The icy chill that emanated from him blew her way as the fleeting breeze changed direction. "I cannot be contained." This statement was factual and so readily spilling from his mouth that he almost wanted to take it back had any falsities lay within the words. However, there were none, and so he could do little to keep it from slipping off his tongue. "Who are you, child of light?" Came his next question, which referred to their last encounter where her magic had rivaled his own. If he were to keep running into her on his excursions, he wanted something to call her. His stomach rumbled quietly to remind him why he'd come out here in the first place, and something deep within the bottomless pits of his eyes flickered to life as he looked at her. She wasn't malnourished, and the longer he stood there before her the more enticing she became, silver tongue slipping from his mouth to wipe over his lips in hunger. But as the cogs within his blackened mind began to churn to form a plan, Belial interrupted his decision process. The small lamb came gleefully trotting up to Nocturne, bleating softly as he realized they had company.



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