Vindico

Full Version: THE MYSTERY BOX HAS APPEARED!
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<center><font style="color: #2B1313; font size: 45px;"><b><h1>THE MYSTERY BOX HAS APPEARED!</h1></b></font></center>

<p>The mystery box appears randomly, placed with care by the gods so it nestles tenderly amongst the underbrush. Slowly the gods lean down, breathing life into the box so that a glow begins to grow in the once empty chest. With that they disappear, retreating back into their solitude to watch their newest creation work. 

<p>This is the second mystery box appearance. A few of you have been told the general idea in the cbox but now it is time to implement it. The following sections in the market have been numbered, powers, legendary powers, accessories, blessings and curses. Once you post you will be given a number and then the item will be sent to your characters account. First 5 wolves to post here get to enter in this random draw. Only one wolf to post per member. Post must be at least 500 words for it to count, you may acknowledge the other wolves or you can simply find the box alone. 

<p>There is a chance for maim, for sickness, disease etc. Keep this in mind when entering this draw. Most curses are temporary, or they are reversible through god quests. You have been warned!

<p>CURRENT REWARDS GIVEN:
ODYSSEUS - AURA READER
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He prowled past the forest borders, inhaling the scent of his kingdom one last time. He headed towards the swaps, solid earth giving way beneath his mass to soft mud. Mud squished unpleasantly between his paws, caking onto his ebony pelt and flinging against his belly with each step. His face was void of emotion, gaze fixated directly in front of him. He moved lazily, hips swaying and shoulders rolling with each step. The wet breeze toyed with his pelt, creating an unpleasant humidity as he moved into the swamp. The air was heavy with the stench of decay and moisture, suffocating him slowly.
<P>
Carcasses were stuck in the mud, poor creatures that had ventured too far in and now were stuck, forced to die slow and miserable deaths. A faint smirk touched his lips, the faint cries of a struggling animal piercing the night. Ears tipped forward, soaking in the sounds. Frogs croaked and crickets chirped, but they had no affect on him for he did not care for the beauty that the world had to offer until it came in the form of a willing woman. He was simply incapable of caring when it came to anything. Sure he could forge relationships, but what was the point? He didn't see one. What was the point of forming relationships when he only intended to use those around him to his advantage. Very few were worthy in his eyes, his mother being one of them. She was his blood, his family, and therefore worthy.
<P>
A gentle glow caught his attention, pulling him from his path and deeper into the swamp. Legs were caked with more and more mud with each step, his pelt matting beneath the substance. Tails curled at his hocks, trying to avoid the sticky mud to no avail. He had never seen another glow so close to the ground. Curiosity pulled him closer until he peered down at the box. Eyes narrowed, nostrils flaring on an inhale. He had never seen such a thing before. A forepaw lifted, leg extending to touch the box. It was cool to the touch, hard even. It looked like the bark of a tree, though he had never seen anything in such a shape before. Briefly he would look around, almost expecting someone to come out of nowhere and play some kind of trick on him. But he was alone in the swamp, only the swamp creatures offering him company.
<P>
Nothing happened at first, causing him to tap it more, shaking the box though it made no sound. A blinding light would then flash from it, causing him to rear back in surprise, ears falling flat against his skull. Eyes squinted against the glow, foreleg remaining lifted though recoiled towards his chest. Hackles bristled down his back as he tried to look at the box once more, but couldnt see anything around the blinding light. A low growl rumbled in his throat, a sound of uncertainty. Was this a threat or not?
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<center><font style="color: #2B1313; font size: 45px;"><b><h1>ODYSSEUS HAS RECEIVED AURA READER</h1></b></font></center>

As you approach the mystery box it begins to hum, the light flashing brightly and quickly flashing through the various colours before then softening before fading down to a dull rainbow glow. The box lid snaps back violently, the colours flying forth to strike you, seeming to coat your entire flesh before melting into your skin. Immediately the box lid shuts once more, the soft yellow glow returning once more to pulse steadily beneath the lid.


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<div style="text-align: justify; color: #FFFFFF; font-size: 11px; font-family: Arial; letter-spacing: 1px; line-height: 15px; padding: 30px;margin:20px;text-shadow: 0px 0px 3px #1f1612;width:420;height:380px;overflow:auto;"><font style="font-family: Cinzel Decorative; color: #000000; text-shadow: 0px 0px 3px #1f1612;font-size: 30px; border-bottom: 1px solid #120908;">Robin Willowreaver</font><br><br><br><br>

Robin could remember having been here, before, and, though the memory itself was distant and foggy, he felt as though whatever had taken place here had been important. It was as if his mind was shrouded in some sort of mist; an thick, inpenetrable barrier that kept him from digging too deeply. Yet the dampness that hung in the air was familiar to him, along with the muddied ground that seemed intent on swallowing his legs whenever he so much as took a step.

This is what a swamp is, isn't it? the young wolf mused as he walk, careful with where he placed his paws. I always thought that they would be...smellier. And darker. But this seems...alright, I guess. It'd be better if there wasn't so much mud...

As if able to read his thoughts, the potent brew of soil and water beneath him gave a squelching sound, and Robin frowned down at it, his ears flattening against his skull. Having been restricted to their home in the mountains, he and his brothers had learned all that they could about far-off lands from their parents and commanders. The stories themselves had always been interesting, and the commanders were especially skilled in weaving enjoyable tales, what with all of their experience beyond the pack's borders and whatnot. Robin couldn't remember having ever heard about any strange creatures that lived in swamps...but that didn't stop the anxiety from beginning to grow deep within him as he stared at the mud, half-expecting some toothy, multi-eyed fish-monster to lunge out at him.

He waited for a moment or two, his gaze unwavering. And when it became clear to him that the muck was lifeless, he was able to pull himself away and continue on, treating the occasional clumps of grass that he came across as stepping-stones.

All of a sudden, a strange scent wafted in on the nonexistant breeze and reached his nose, bringing him to a halt. It seemed as though he wasn't alone; there was another wolf milling about, in these parts, though Robin was unsure whether or not that was a good thing. He would admit that he'd had yet to meet a hostile stranger, but that didn't mean that it wouldn't happen, at some point. Maybe today would even end up being the day.

Robin wondered if he had trespassed, somehow, but dismissed the thought when he focused a little and realized that the area was more or less empty. Pack markers tended to be strong and easy to pick up on, and there were none around; as far as he could tell, anyway. All that he could smell was grass and mud and the faint, somewhat-comforting scent of of late Spring.

Becoming more curious than he was nervous, the young wolf summoned up the courage to bid himself forward and follow the stranger's scent. It grew stronger with every step he took, and before long he had wandered into a denser part of the swamp, where the muck beneath his paws was thicker—hungrier—and the solid patches of ground burst with all sorts of water-weeds. Then a figure came into view, and he froze, his honey-hued eyes widening. The wolf was bigger than he was, as most wolves of this land were, and odd bone-like things seemed to sprout from his back. Coupled with the obsidian tint of his fur, he made for an intimidating presence, and Robin couldn't help but take a step back, his small body furling into a slight-cower.

It wasn't polite to judge others because of how they looked, but...this wolf gave him the strangest of feelings. Unpleasant feelings, at that. But then the young wolf's eyes wandered, and he caught sight of the glowing thing that sat in front of the male. What was it? Something he had found? Was it alive?

Robin dared to skirt around the stranger, giving him a wide-enough berth until he could approach the glowing, box thing from the left, all the while keeping his distance from the wolf. The young wolf lowered his head a little, as if the stone around his neck had suddenly become heavy, and he took a whiff of it. Weird...it doesn't smell like anything...


<center><font style="font-weight: bold; color: #4A0B0B;">"Speaking"</font></center></div>
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Original Coding by Layla/fiftyblackroses</center>
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<center><font style="color: #2B1313; font size: 45px;"><b><h1>ROBIN HAS RECEIVED ROUGE</h1></b></font></center>

As you approach the mystery box it begins to hum, the light seeming to dull to a sickly grey light that slowly steals the colours from it's immediate surroundings before then softening before fading down to a grey glow. The box lid snaps back violently, the light flying forth to strike you, seeming to steal all colour from your pelt before melting into your skin and returning you to normal. Immediately the box lid shuts once more, the soft yellow glow returning once more to pulse steadily beneath the lid.


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<link href='http://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Ruthie' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'>               
      <div style="padding: 30px 35px 20px 35px; padding-top: 450px;"> 
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                       <center><div style="border-bottom: 2px solid #fae58f ; border-top: 2px solid #fae58f ; padding-top: 8px;"><font style="font-family:Ruthie; font-size: 80px; font-style: none; text-transform: none; color: #fae58f; text-shadow: 0px 0px 10px #000000, 0px 0px 30px #ffffff; line-height: 100px; float: bottom; ">Citlali Deerheart</font></div>
                                           </center>          <div style="text-align: justify; font-variant: small-caps; font-family: georgia; font-size: 10px; line-height:8px; word-spacing:3px; letter-spacing:2px; color: #ffffff; text-shadow: 0px 0px 5px #000000; word-spacing: 5px;">                                                </center>         <font style="text-align: justify; font-variant: small-caps; font-family: georgia; font-size: 12px; line-height:12px; word-spacing:4px; letter-spacing:2px; color: #fae58f; text-shadow: 0px 0px 5px #000000; word-spacing: 5px;"><DIV style="text-align: CENTER; font-family: georgia; font-size: 8px; text-transform: uppercase; color: #fae58f; text-shadow: 0px 0px 20px #ffffff; letter-spacing: 7px; line-height: 13px;">Time to fly, time to touch the sky
One voice alone
A haunting cry</DIV>
 
 
<font style=" font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-variant: none; text-transform: none; text-shadow: 0px 0px 9px #000000;">Citlali remembered the</font> swamps all too well. She remembered how cold and barren they had been in the winter, when she first came to these lands. She herself had been in equally poor condition at the time, bloodied, beaten, and starving, damaged in both mind and body. Time had passed, her emaciated form had filled out into something that could almost be considered sleek, on a good day, and her wounds had healed. The physical ones, at any rate. Citlali was still very much a coward, wary around others and hesitant to trust, but she had begun to make attempts to form bonds with the wolves of her pack. She felt loyalty towards Andraste and Indian, born of respect rather than fear, and she even had a few wolves she could potentially consider her friends, such as Paradise. Perhaps best of all was her slow but steady progress on finally learning to fly, reclaiming the birthright she had been denied.

 
So why did she return to the swamps? In all honesty, she wasn’t quite sure. Maybe she was simply on the prowl for food, as wolves often were, or maybe she wanted to see the place again, find the old den Paradise had found her cowering in. She doubted she’d be able to find the exact location, but it didn’t hurt to come back and reminiscence. In a way, it was like looking into the past, back at what she had been before—a fugitive, sick at heart and seeking oblivion. Had she progressed beyond that? She liked to think so, even if there were a few demons she still needed to face. Citlali knew she could not truly begin a new life until she shook off the fears and prejudices of her previous life, and, perhaps most of all, until she was truly free. The matter of Cruxer and Lucia remained, and Citlali knew, at some point, she would have to confront them.
 
Wrapped up in her own thoughts, she didn’t notice the first distant flash of light as she traveled through the swamps, skirting the pools of stagnant water and slinking silently through the mist. When the second flash appeared in the corner of her eye, however, she paused, one forepaw raised slightly in midstride. She looked in the direction of the light, puzzled. What could be causing that? She wasn’t sure she wanted to know, as it could be any number of unpleasant magical anomalies, but she was also a bit curious. She sniffed the air, trying to gather scents in the sulfuric reek of the swamps. It was difficult, but she could smell other wolves nearby. If others were there, how bad could it be? She turned and set off in the direction of the flash, vanishing into the fog.
 
The scents strengthened and became more distinct as she traveled. Two male wolves, Avelorns (she hesitated briefly before continuing onwards), both strangely familiar. Two shapes eventually materialized in the mist. One was small and red, and she quickly recognized her packmate Robin. The other—Citlali’s hackles rose along her neck and back, her legs briefly going stiff. Odysseus. She wasn’t sure about approaching him, but curiosity pulled her forward, and she stepped into the circle, keeping closer to Robin than she did to Odysseus. On the ground was an odd…thing. Her first thought was that it must be a rock, but it looked like no rock she had ever seen. Keeping low to the ground, she moved forward, her nose pushing gently against the box.
  

 
                                            <center><font style=" color: #a1cbde; text-shadow: 0px 0px 10px #ffffff;">"May I speak?"</font></div>
 
<DIV style="text-align: CENTER; font-family: georgia; font-size: 8px; text-transform: uppercase; color: #fae58f; text-shadow: 0px 0px 20px #ffffff; letter-spacing: 7px; line-height: 12px;">One song, one star burning bright
Let it carry me
Through darkest night</DIV>
 
 
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<center>CODE BY CHIP | ART BY FENNECFYRE
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<center><font style="color: #2B1313; font size: 45px;"><b><h1>CITLALI HAS RECEIVED ILLUSION</h1></b></font></center>

As you approach the mystery box it begins to hum, the light slowly shifts into a pinwheel of red and white before then softening before fading down to a light pink. The box lid snaps back violently, the light drifting forward in the shape of a butterfly, fluttering forward to land on the tip of your nose where it slowly settles across your eyes before melting into your skin and returning you to normal. Immediately the box lid shuts once more, the soft yellow glow returning once more to pulse steadily beneath the lid.


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Discontent still lingered in the depths of her belly. It was building as the days progressed. Each time he touched her companion it drew even more aggression from her until she felt like she was choking against her jealousy and rage. Obsession wasn’t a thing she admired or generally partook in but the moment this male had touched what she deemed as hers she couldn’t help her desire to burn everything he loved to the ground.

She watched him in silence. Allowing her shadows to hide her presences. It was a difficult task since her magic was still fairly new. She could feel the prickling of discomfort against her mind with her usage of her shadows. They whispered in an attempt to ease her frustrations but she ignored them as she watched her king move towards the boarders. Where was he going? Dark lips curled in a smirk at her darker thoughts and she wondered if anyone would notice should their king not return home.

She waited a few moments for him to pass the pack lands and begin his walk. Slowly she moved with purpose. Curiosity was getting the best of her and perhaps she felt this would prove to be a worthy opportunity for her to let go of some of her aggression. The gods knew she needed to get the energy that was building inside her out soon or she would spontaneously combust.

She followed the king as the world went from solid to sickness. Her ears twitched as she wondered why he was wandering towards the swampy area. She remained down wind as she carefully treaded behind him. If she was honest perhaps a part of her was protective over him. Even if she was angry at her situation that part of her that was honorable did indeed recognize him as her king and though she desired to see him struggle and burn she wanted no on else to steal that glory from her.

Her gaze lingered over the lost souls that had wandered too far into the murky depths of this hell and lost their lives to starvation and suffocation. Their figures frozen in their silent horrors and her hair bristled as she noticed her king looking as well. She wondered what was in that mind of his. She was certain what ever he was thinking about wasn’t exactly pleasant.

Her mind wandered on possibly shoving her king in the depths of those prisons. Watching him struggle against the clinging mud would be a sight to behold. However, she wasn’t the murdering type and death was so final when life could be so painful. She shook the thoughts away and stopped as she noticed the faint glow in the depths of the pool. Her king had noticed it too and she hoped that he had been so focused on discovering what the source of the light was that he hadn’t noticed her following him.

Her gaze lingered as she wandered toward the edge of the waters and she watched as her king touched the odd box. The colors had come forth and struck him. Her hair erupted with her confusion and concern for his safety. What had that box done! She wanted to rush over and ensure he was safe but as she wandered into the mud she noticed another wolf wandering towards the box. Another male. One she had never met before and her desire to get to her king increased. Though with her size it was extremely difficult to maneuver against the pulling mud. She felt panic stirring inside her as she pushed against its tugging grasp. She noticed another wolf coming closer towards the second male and she hurried herself as best as she could towards her king. Finally she had reached him but no one seemed to truly pay any mind to one another as they all fixated on the box. Her attention turned towards her king and she tilted her head in her silent are you alright question.

The hum seemed to be calling. Her ears twitched in response as she turned to see the female had touched open the box as well. What was going on? She was uncertain if she would do the same but something drew her closer. She hesitated for a moment and allowed her feline like claws to tap against the box. Her ears fell back with fear as to what would happen but curiosity had seemed to consume her.
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<center><font style="color: #2B1313; font size: 45px;"><b><h1>NEWT HAS RECEIVED SYNTHETIC ELEMENT</h1></b></font></center>

As you approach the mystery box it begins to hum, the light slowly shifts into a pinwheel of rainbows before then softening and fading down to a light orange. The box lid snaps back violently, the light drifting forward like a ribbon on a breeze, fluttering forward to twist around your neck where it slowly settles across your flesh before melting into your skin and returning you to normal. Immediately the box lid shuts once more, the soft yellow glow returning once more to pulse steadily beneath the lid.


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What does one do when both the rocks you stand on rip themselves out from beneath you? Probably not hunt them down with a blood thirsty desire to rip out their intestines their their ass's and then shove them back down their throats. But that was what was on the agenda today. As usual she moved with a slow, silent confidence but anyone who could read her aura knew that there was a storm brewing behind those stony features. Head was raised high, ears pricked upwards and forwards and tail drifted behind her. By the gods she hated the swamp... She hadn't been here since the day they had chased that little slave here and to be completely honest she would have been happy in life to never see this blasted place again. And yet. Not one but both of their scents had pulled her here.

As always jaw hung slack, throat working to send out inaudible pings as well as her nose working to pick up the scents of the pair. Were they here together? Either this was a sign they were finally getting along or it was a sign of one of their impending deaths. Because really... Why did one come to a swamp if not to dump a body? And wasn't that just the most pleasant thought to be dwelling on. Though thankfully they hadn't tried especially hard to hide their scents or their paths, it wasn't like there were trying not to be found... Which for some reason she trusted even less... By the gods if they were fighting she was going to scream until their ears bled. Neither of them would live to see the end of her rage.

But they were not here to make amends, nor to kill each other... At least not from what she could tell by the small gathering of wolves her pings were telling her had gathered. She would slow suddenly, eyes narrowing suspiciously as she came to a halt a good distance away. What was that noise? That hum? It spoke to her, touching a frequency to her very core and beckoning her forward. She would blink slowly, tension releasing from coiled muscles as her head lowered and she would drift forward slowly. Pings still worked to guide her through the treacherous lands of the swamp but she was fixated. She would hear the soft tap as Newt touched an object and then the frequency changed. What was this?

Slowly she would drift forward, paying no mind to the others. Anger towards Newt and Ody momentarily forgotten and not a care given towards the other two gathered. What a curious thing... Unlike everyone else who hesitated she would push her way up to it before seating herself in front of it. Everyone else sniffed and tested but she would slowly lower her jaw, a soft hum beginning to emit from her to match the frequency of the box before her. Slowly a paw would lift, caressing the lid before sliding a nail along the crease of the box lid. She had never heard a frequency like this before... What could it mean?
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