Vindico

Open: Cascade

Beauturn Eslelise-Freewinter Offline

Loner of Vindico
18 Seasons / Male / Factionless
Played by Astrara
205 Runes 
Domum - Ferox
x0 x0
*
Beauturn's Health
 
 
Strength
0
Defence
5
Agility
10
Intuition
5
#1

Heir of breath

He was in motion, not in flight. But instead in a world of his own as he oft was upon his miscellaneous strolling. Oh, Beauturn was elsewhere. Like the birds in the winter months his mind had migrated elsewhere for a little while and in its turn, he seemed unable to comprehend much further than that he was important and influential and super sexy.

He took no heed to his outdated title of a king; it would be renewed in time.

He took no heed to his influence; this was not the night starch plains of yesteryear. This was, like his mind; elsewhere. The ground that ensnared him grew dark, the heavy upbeat of wings resonating upon the black of the night; Libra. The king of the mountains would land beside him loud and unruly. Large talons impaling earth as ice touched beak would let forth a shrill screech like that of a banshee upon the night. He may be a kept man but he was still no more of the winged horror that haunted those rocky plains. His keeper would not flinch, would not care. Rune’s reflecting red against the dirt. Illuminating his way in blood ichor.

Libra was most unimpressed, his glacial feathers raised upon his crown as large head would be brought down to Beauturn in a manner of irritation. “What now you foolish man, venturing off again? It is upon night!” Night was no time for silly men to pilfer through the flora of unknown land. “I saw a lake here upon my flight to the throat of the world.” He would offer. A little distant against the cold, expression dreamy, lost. “You wish to fish at night?” The bird would add, clacking his beak “I wish to map the stars” His king would retort, his tone simple. Yet rang out against the dark of the night. A fantasy within the man’s eyes the bird knew better than to question. He would make his way in time to the crystal clear of the lake. A mirror upon the night sky as stars lay awake amidst its gulf turning its surface to umbral mist.

Beauturn in his stead would sit upon the sands, by the little shrub. A sad little flower pursuing its growth against the silt. Lowering himself to a lay he would glow among the stars. A peacefulness setting in like morning dew. The bird would aloft beside him. Settle himself in his vastness. The night was long and full of life. A pattern lay amidst those darkened skies and Beauturn watched clear waters with vigour.



Beauturn Eslelise Freewinter
OOC
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Ved-ava Iounn  Offline

Witch Doctor of Vindico
18 Seasons / Female / Factionless
Played by Rare
10 Runes 
Domum - Ferox
x0 x0
*
Ved-ava Iounn's Health
 
 
Strength
4
Defence
0
Agility
8
Intuition
8
#2
                 
                           
                   
Witch Doctor
I shall meet you upon the gates of Tartarus

             
                 

The kingdom of men rose high in its falsified rouse, a dominating force that had long stood testament to the passage of time. Perhaps once, the story had been told differently, persuaded by the give and take of night and day, the deep terrors of the dark, and the flourishing lies of the day. Each moment, it was clear the lines had been drawn, her wild gaze beseeching, bright in the lantern hewn from ruby and fire. They feared the night, just as they found safety in the day, as if the sun above would protect them from the cruelty that resided in the heart of all things. It was a temptress of great power, this seducing melody, a whim that could command even the surest of gilded hearts, those who stood tall against the marble stairs that spiraled up, promising retribution should they but fall

Yet, for the woman, there were simpler delights to partake in; the haunting croon of arid chains left empty and rusting, the plush whisper of an unrestrained earth left to tremble beneath her feet, humming the archaic story of creation beneath star and sky. Gazing up as she did now, here, trapped in this primordial husk left to rot in space, Ved-ava Iounn remembered the tapestries that once illustrated the beliefs and knowledge of the old ways. Those who had once been born from ignorance or whimsical desires, she knew not. Some promised they were real, fevered in the madness that came with desperation, the need to hope there was more than this simplistic existence. To here, there was nothing more that was needed, than the here and now. It was far better than what it had once been.

The illuminated mirror of the lake without end was cast to mimic the moon above, a brilliant discus, polished mithril at the break of dawn, where the sun had finally set, its blood long hidden beneath the mountains that cut sharp edges across the horizon, like a page torn in two. The woman, far more intrigued by the soil underfoot, the rich fermentation of compost and herbs squatting in hidden squalor, Ved-ava Iounn had little need for the fantasy desires to turn her gaze heavenward. there were far greater treasures here, which she could embrace with her own body, each step careful, swaying. The narrow rise of her chest rose with the soft breath, lips curling at the exhale, only for it to begin again, fragile wrists flashing with the onyx nails tipped by obsidian. There were many, whom did not share her rational mind.

Raised on their pedestal of stone and vermillion carpet, the pair were a striking thing to witness, master of the sky set before the blasphemous copy of what they yearned to be, but never would. It was rare, to see such a beast from their haven in the north, where crystalline ice set a fractal kingdom of light and cold. Murmuring, thoughts rolling from their tongue, careless, a phantom crept closer. "The stars would do you little good to escape this Isle. This is divine territory." The cradle of existence some would believe, or a once relic of the past, cast into the sea, to sink over the centuries until they too faded from time and memory. A perplexed expression drew the harsh lines of her face, angular and thoughtful. "The map of the heavens plays tricks here. Better to trust in that which you can touch."

Another stride, uncaring of the closeness of the pair, the scent of male pungent on her tongue. Sifting around the, the path of sand bright, a forgotten ribbon amongst the grass, she stepped into the chilled water of the lake, her eyes caught of the lilypads, the darkness cut into the metal surface. Wings outstretched to caress the surface as she leaned forward, her nose touching the curling edge, setting a ripple out into the depths.

"Speak"

@Beauturn
             

             
         
Table Code © The Amazing CHIP! Art © Namasté
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Beauturn Eslelise-Freewinter Offline

Loner of Vindico
18 Seasons / Male / Factionless
Played by Astrara
205 Runes 
Domum - Ferox
x0 x0
*
Beauturn's Health
 
 
Strength
0
Defence
5
Agility
10
Intuition
5
#3

Heir of breath

The divine bird’s voice would ring loud upon the lakeside, reverberating off the tree’s in a stance of aggression. Beauturn would follow suit, wings sprawled like black mist upon the cool of the night sky. She stood amoung the stars, twisting their reflections; a witch. He in his disapproval of her manner would make such thing known. Her words unknown to him; witchspeak perhaps. She was trying to enchant him, make him a fool. Beating black wings hard he would aloft upon the night, hovering upon the thrum of his motions. Vermillion eyes like the blood moon entombed upon her; the trespasser. Each breath of his wings would cast a powerful gust of night her towards her being, displacing her fur and feather; the sign of the harpy. Oh, she was cursed and he was in no steed to play games with the daughters of the night.

“Oh dogged witch! Contender of nocturne! You come unto me; steal thine stars- oh black-heart!” Behind him the might of the bird would uncurl like a serpent, its motions rhythmic. Feathers lost in liquid motion like ocean drift as Libra would stand upon large feet, talons impaling the earth. “Guity witch I trial you! The waters be your grave” he would snarl, cacaphonic, rough. Usually pleasant vocals fringed with something else, something unknown. He was a stressed man, a broken man. Too much had occurred to have him anything but and yet the water that spanned before him, that broken, starless water. It brought him to places too dark to comprehend; the witch. The traitor. The black-heart.

“Beauturn its just water displaceme-“He would hear bird vocals upon his ear, beak close, murmuring. Beauturn would throw himself at the bird in a fury of feather and tooth. Driving it off, away, anywhere but here. He was not hearing for the government of some mountain king. If he truly be king he would not have let himself be enslaved so easily by himself. “Be gone! Be gone! Pitiful whelp of a man!" upon driving away his companion he would turn abruptly on the femme, wings gathering a vicious momentum as he’d propel himself towards her jaws agape attempting to find a hold within her chest as razored claws would try to find their place upon her visage.

This was ok, this was inevitable, all witches should d r o w n.


Beauturn Eslelise Freewinter
This isn't a very good wedding

1/3 – for Dominance ; all witches should drown!
@Ved-ava Iounn
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