Vindico

Full Version: is it progession if a cannibal uses a fork? ~dione&aule
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The sting of sharp needles was welcomed by the cimmerian beast. It was a ravishing pain he instantly grew to love; much better than the treacherous waters he had just crawled out of. Drops of crystalline water dripped from his soaked body, his fur so drenched that it showed every rib in his chest. With a quick shake and a few sneezes, the nordic looked pathetically like a posing punker; fur spiked everywhere and cheek feathers ruffled. A thin sneer plagued the man's lips as he stepped forward, languid and uncaring. The island was small. He could even see the other side, and yet no one was here.

But the gods had brought him here, the piercing pain in his stomach growing ever more. He needed to feed. And while he had fed on rabbits and fish, it wasn't the blood he needed. The blood that gave him life. No, the gods had poisoned his stomach for leaving his beloved lovers behind. He now needed the blood of his own. Not that he hadn't tasted it before, or that it disgusted him. Certainly it was the opposite. It thrilled him in all ways, pleasing included. The simple and frustrating problem was that he just couldn't find a victim he could take. And so here he was, hooves half buried in the white sand of an empty island; searching for a nonexistent source of life.

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<center><table style="background-position:top; background-color: transparent; background-repeat:no-repeat; width:650px; align="center"><tbody><tr><td align="center" valign="bottom" width="150%"><div style="padding-bottom: 30px; padding-left:55px; padding-right: 55px;" align="justify">The beach had become her new favourite place, it offered an excellent source of entertainment to her ever growing child and it also allowed her to sun bathe and watch the world slowly trickle by. This had been in no way the life she had wanted to lead but at the same time there was a sense of peace and solace that she was taking from her time here that was making her feel more and more easy about herself and her life. Eyes were trained on the shore line, her painfully green coat making her stick out like a sore thumb against the sandy shores. It didn't provide the same camouflage here as it lent her in the jungle of their home but it didn't matter. She could hear Aule, massive ears constantly flittering and flicking to keep track of him as he did whatever a child like to do. Maybe he was terrorizing the sealife, she didn't know, all she knew was that she had told him to stay on the beach and within yelling distance. But movement in the water drew her attention towards it, something fairly large pushing through the water to her right. Prey maybe? It was between herself and Aule, some part of her wondered if she should be panicking over something coming between herself and her son but instead she would just regard it with mild curiosity. It had been some time since she had dined on anything other then wretched fish. Oh how she hated fish.

Dainty paws would push into the sand and she would slowly lift herself into a seated position as ruby gaze continued to fixate on their new company. How marvellous, it seemed to be canine. At least she could say this from the shape of the head. But as the beast pulled itself from the waters she couldn't help but sigh in dismay. It was canine yes, though it looked more like prey, and it was an all too familiar form. Haunches would unfurl as she stood, long limbs pulling her into a leggy lope as she attempted to close the distance between them. Better he see her first then Aule. <b>"Jay. Why are you here...?"</b> Her words were sultry, practiced as she allowed a slow smile to slither its way across her inky lips. Eyes would shift over his form as she admired it just as she admired it every time they ran into each other. They were not companions, nor friends or even lovers. Honestly Dione had no idea how to classify the odd male. She liked him, they could hunt together. He was one of the few beasts that shared her peculiar tastes. But still. She did not know much about him other then a name and his dietary habits. Why was he here? 

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<center><link href='http://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Cantata+One' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'><div style="background: #040103 url('http://i.imgur.com/fNl65vl.png') no-repeat top; width: 500px; margin: 0 auto 0 auto;"><div style="padding-right: 25px; padding-left: 25px; padding-top: 550px; padding-bottom: 10px; font-family: 'Cantata One', 'Georgia' serif; text-align:justify; font-size:10px; color: #371c24"><font style="font-size:50pt; line-height:10px;">T</font>he seconds ticked by, one moment to the next, like the sliding of sand grains upon his body. It was a textual moment, where all the effects of the world seemed to rise up, and take their place upon pedestal, demanding his every attention. Here, crouched as he was, awkwardly sized paws buried in alabaster sands, Aulë was focused, keen on the intruder of his miniature kingdom. It scuttled about, leaving pinpricks in wary track before him, painting invisible path ahead, upon which he focused now. Taking one step forward, than another, the pup let himself forget about the rules and the dangers of the forest. He was on open land now, far from the reaches of slinking shadows, where the evil creatures lived, the ones that he could not see, the ones that screamed in the night, when golden sun lay slain upon the horizon, like some tragic hero from bed stories. There was only him, and the enemy.
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Given of course, the enemy happened to be a eight legged crustacean with creepy eyes set on pivoting stalks who seemed to hardly notice him, but yeah, a warrior had to start somewhere right? Huffing, he pressed his chest into the warm sand, ears pulling back, rump shaking from one side to the other. He'd seen mother eat one before, watched as she pulled its legs from its body, revealing tender white innards, the type that had a fishy smelly, but less pungent, and more savoury. Perhaps if he killed the dragon, brought it back to his lady she'd reward him with cuddles. He always liked it when she'd curl up around him at night, lay her plush emerald banner over his nose, no matter how much it made him sneeze. Intrigued by this possible prize for such knightly efforts, the mauve pup growled, a soft hoot at the back of his throat, leaping forward, tumbling over the hill of sand, and onto the crab. He yipped at the thing, sharp, needle like fangs snapping thin legs, hopping around in energetic lusts of all children, more in his own musing than to evade raised claws.
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He didn't know when the desire hit, but all of a sudden, Aulë wanted to be a warrior. Perhaps it was the shifting desires of a child, yet to come into their own, or perhaps, he had a calling for such sport. But whatever the reason, this little crab was going down. Skidding to a halt, he twisted around, a long train of crushed plume satin at his hind, leaving a monarchy badge where he stepped. Somehow, from one moment to the next, his paw swiped at the crimson shell, leaving the creature heaving on its back, and for that, Aulë considered himself the victor. <font style="color:#732a38;"><b>"Ha,"</b></font> he laughed, giggling in subtle delight, watching in amusement as his temporary playmate rocked from one side to the next. Curious, he leaned forward, ears perked as he glanced down at the mess of legs, leaning forward to take a whiff, only to leap back as a stray clutch almost stole his nose. Why, the nerve!! Huffing, he stepped back, glancing down a little way towards where he had left his mother, wanting to share in his little victory of the bugger. 
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Yet, she wasn't alone. A white beast had risen from the waters, furry, without the scales that marked most water creatures he had seen his mother drag from its depths. Having no desire to leave her alone in such company, and more than a little curious as to see just what it was, Aulë abandoned his crab, streaking the scant metres, nearly colliding with his mothers leg. Greeting Dione with kisses on legs and shoulders, he looked to the man, who had the face of a bird and feet of stone. <font style="color:#732a38;"><b>"You look funny,"</b></font> he concluded, tilting his head as he attempted to get a different view of the man.
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<font style="color:#732a38;"><b>"Talk here."</b></font>
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Flowing pristine threads dangled from his unnaturally thin tail, slowly drying in the heat of the sun. It was held slightly higher than his back, awkwardly bent for lack of wanting to concentrate on holding it up. His chin tilted toward his hoof, eyes glaring down at the painful grains of sand surrounding it. It was funny, really. Ironic that he had a blind eye on one side, and lacked half a leg on the other. And the fact that he had developed the curse of needing wolves' blood to live after drinking that of his siblings was not only ironic also, but pure poetic. He could not argue that his relationship with the gods was iffy at best. Lately they seemed to despise him, haunting his head during every drugged self-pity party. But he would make sure that changed soon. So very soon. And as he was tempted to leave this uneventful pebble of an island, the sweet familiar voice of lustful nights and euphoria teased at his attentive ears.

A surprised expression touched his usually gloomy facade, reaching those malicious crimson eyes he so loved to look at. His body almost reverberated with excitement as he pranced forward, sand falling from the diamond threads trailing his ankles.  Every moment they had met had led to a lust-driven night of moans and macabre. And what would lead this upcoming night to be any different? And then it spoke: a raining cloud of disappointment and frustrating angst all rolled into one little sniving punk beside her leg. He halted mid step, hind left leg slowly crunching back into the sand. He'd forgotten the question his lovely mistress had asked, and bore down at the young wolf. <b>"And you look like you'd fair a good snack."</b> His voice hissed slightly, though he knew not to provoke the fiery she-devil who guarded him. There was no need to lose another limb. Or, knowing dione, his manhood.

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<center><table style="background-position:top; background-color: transparent; background-repeat:no-repeat; width:650px; align="center"><tbody><tr><td align="center" valign="bottom" width="150%"><div style="padding-bottom: 30px; padding-left:55px; padding-right: 55px;" align="justify">Such a treasure, such a treat. One of her free friends that Dione could honestly say she was glad to see once more, second only to Tantalus though only because motherhood had left her feeling less then frisky as of late and her history with Jay was <i>always</i> frisky. It took her old friend a moment to realize who she was and where her voice was coming from before he would turn a sly grin her way and start a slow saunter towards her...  Only he could saunter on three legs. It would seem that he was just about to speak when something collided with her leg, almost knocking her to her knees. Though before she could even snap a glare to the creature her limb would be covered with apologetic kisses and she knew who it was. Aule. Didn't he jus that the funniest timing... Crimson gaze would roll slowly towards him, brow cocking as she studied her boy from beneath that mess of green hair. Before Dione could even say something words would slip from her son's lips, pointing out how odd the creature before them looked. Instead of scolding him like she possibly should have she couldn't help but give out a snort of laughter, looking towards Jagr with a mischievous grin to see how he would react to such a statement. He was notoriously ill tempered but they had enough history to know the boundaries of their... friendship Dione felt.  

Only he didn't have boundaries. How lovely. Her lip would curl back, only a fleeting expression as a warning before lips would curl back up into that twisted grin she always wore. <b>"Jay. If you need a snack you can drink from me. Don't touch my son."</b> Though her words were expressed with a lit to them, and cheerful in nature her eyes sot to lock onto his to transmit a promise of death or dismemberment should he touch her child. Soft smile would be turned to her son a moment later. <b>"Aule this is one of mommy's friends, Jagr. Jay, this is my son Aule."</b> She would offer introductions as she slowly dropped her haunches into the sand so that Aule would be pressed into her belly and framed by her forelimbs as massive tail flopped to the side. How curious this meeting was, part of her wanted to repeat her question, to ask him why he was here... Since coming here she had not yet seen many wolves. Normally they came here, napped on the beach then returned back to the mainland if she didn't catch and kill them first. But this seemed like too strange to be chalked up as a coincidence. 

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<center><link href='http://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Cantata+One' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'><div style="background: #040103 url('http://i.imgur.com/fNl65vl.png') no-repeat top; width: 500px; margin: 0 auto 0 auto;"><div style="padding-right: 25px; padding-left: 25px; padding-top: 550px; padding-bottom: 10px; font-family: 'Cantata One', 'Georgia' serif; text-align:justify; font-size:10px; color: #371c24"><font style="font-size:50pt; line-height:10px;">P</font>ressed against the shadow of his mothers belly, Aulë gauged the man before him. A strange looking beast, with only three legs, and oddly shaped feet, he was hardly something that would in opinion would be an amusing playmate. His feet were made of stones! That was just all sorts of wrong. Could he run at all? Or did they just kind of drag through the sand under the weight. Experience told the young Lydia that stone sank. How had he come to the island? Did he walk along the bottom of the sea? It was an amusing thought, imagining the creature taking slow, lumbering steps through the dark, bubbles rising up from his lips.
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Of course, he wouldn't let this stranger know where his thoughts were. Keeping his expression flat, though, unable to resist pulling his tail through the sands in one direction, only to tug it back towards the other, Aulë cocked his ears, looking up towards his mother at her words; nearly falling over in the process as he tried to catch a glimpse of her expression. A friend? This guy? Jagr... jagr. Jagrjagrjagr. Snapping his head back towards the other, he'd step away from his mother, if only by a step or two. <font style="color:#732a38;"><b>"Hello,"</b></font> he'd reply, hesitant to say anything else. Not with this talk of eating and drinking going on. Especially not when his mother was talking about this man drinking from her! Prey were the only things that were eaten, not the ones who did the hunting. He certainly didn't like the idea of his mother being hunted. Therefore, it was logical to assume that he didn't like this wolf. Huffing, proud of his conclusion, Aulë eyed the man before speaking. <font style="color:#732a38;"><b>"You can't eat mother either. She isn't a fish."</b></font>
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<font style="color:#732a38;"><b>"Talk here."</b></font>
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Note: lol that was horrible. Trying to get back into the mindset of a child again xD
ooc; okay this is so bad, I was interrupted I'm sorry D:

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A half-assed sneer creeped onto the corner of his mouth as the woman he once shared passionate nights with scolded him, though it was mostly expected. She was a mother, after all, and he wasn't the most gentleman of men. In fact, children often made his skin <i>crawl </i> with anxiety. The only reason his mind laid at ease was the simple yet irritable craving of her sweet, delicate hips rocking between his. It had been far too long since they'd entwined in the moonlight, meaning the little rodent couldn't possibly be his. An amused sound would emit from the man's throat at aule's remark, a sly smirk flitting over his lips as his voice flowed from a flirtatious tongue. <b>"No, you're quite right. She tastes remarkably better than a fish if memory suits me right."</b> Brilliant eyes gleamed at dione, his groin warming at the delicious memories as he closed the blinded eye in a wink. Far. Too. Long.

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