judge, jury, executioner; ranjit
May 23, 2014 12:23:58 GMT -6
Post by Δ Beauty With The Booty on May 23, 2014 12:23:58 GMT -6
Witchcrypt
you like the smell of blood,
when its pumping like a factory
oh, you like your words to cut,
you like to use the best artillery.
you like the smell of blood,
when its pumping like a factory
oh, you like your words to cut,
you like to use the best artillery.
Anger. It rolled off in nearly tangible waves, pooling around the stilts of the beings, mixing with the fog that crept along the geo. If one looked long and hard enough, the fog could take on shapes, the glimpse of spirits some say and if one looked too long, the spirits would curse you. They would swallow you up and make you apart of them. Welcoming you home with their misty voices and gentle, air light touches. The crept into your bones until you were apart of the geo yourself. But these spirits shied away from the point of anger, avoided it like the plague. Ha, the plague. It had nearly been snuffed out. The Bleeding. Leaving the body weak, losing appetite and bleeding from everywhere upon the skull. Had it been fatal? No one was sure. But the plague that these spirits...this mist avoided was not going away, it stood still, solid. If anger could have outward heat, the area around the epicenter of this anger would be sweltering. It would be as if someone had entered the pits of hell, the heat clawing at their skin and boiling the flesh away. "Anger is like fire, it burns it all away, but bitterness is like cancer, it eats away at the host." Strong vocals cut through the haze of heat like a knife. The vocals were masculine and the S's were drug out, as if on purpose. The voice had a name but the entity did not care to remember it.
Cerise visionaries glared right back at matching ones. The owner of the voice having to look up at the vexed being before him. Four bodies stood behind the embodiment of rage, looking around the bodice with sea green, silver-grey, dark vermilion, and icy blue eyes, their movements silent. But the hessian with the lisp never looked in their direction. His fifteen hand frame taunt and ready to lash out like the snake he was. Blood was going to be spilled, that was for sure. Irasibility was a trade mark of the brindled demimondaine and now the soot colored beast was the cause of the fire that boiled through the chimera bitch's veins. He could see it now, as if it were a roaring, angry dragon that coiled just behind the vermilion eyes. It wanted to rip him to shreds. He felt adrenaline race through his veins, despite the deadly stalemate they now stood in. Time seemed to tick away quickly, the barely bridled anger of the kingpin didn't even seem to ebb with the time, as if it were a stone construct itself, touched but unfazed.
The kingpin was burning, no thoughts went through the cranium of the brindled Cocytusian. Every thought focused on one central thing. Serpentine. Had. To. Die. The thought was vocalized to those around by the deep, throaty and bone-chilling growl. It vibrated the hessian's chest, rocked the muscles along the throat and pulled back pitch black lips to reveal stained carnivorous dental, slick with saliva. The inky bastard at least had the gall to realize what the growl meant, his eyes widening minutely. "Death is once again upon you, cur." The vocals were feminine and laced with the thickness of anger. Of emotion. Witchcrypt's throat was tight with the emotions running through her, making it painful to breath, the weight of anticipation was painfully satisfying on the center of her chest. All six beings stood in at the shores of the Lustrous Cove. It was cold, freezing almost. The beginning of a new day and this day was already ruined for them all. Far from Cocytus, Serpentine had dragged Witchcrypt's youngest daughter, intending to take the young filly to this..Litala. But not even this snake could sneak away so easily. Even by taking her silent daughter. Witchcrypt had immediately set into action, sending out her Sire's Queen's brothers, Obelisk and Abyss, to head the ebon fink off. They had done their job to the letter, chasing him towards the coast, where he had no where to go. Witchcrypt had been waiting, ready to see the look on the bastard's face when he realized he was cornered.
Obelisk and his brother, Abyss, stood to the side, right behind the young females that had come from their new leader's loins. They stood tall, like guardians for both females. Obelisk's silver gaze cast upon Maleficent, the youngest and object of Serpentine's deceit, but his gaze always wandered to each and every being before returning to the tobiano filly. The dark crimson radar of Abyss was locked onto the chestnut pangare filly known as The Bride, his Queen's pride and joy. He would not be the one to let anything harm the filly, despite his aloofness to everything. The sisters, however, kept their eyes locked upon the beast ahead, waiting for the inevitable. And Witchcrypt. Witchcrypt's gaze never left Serpentine, as if he were something she had been looking for all her life. Through multiple lives. Something she could not live without. As if she could not look away without having with-drawls. "What say you?" She hissed. Despite her bloodlust, she was no fool. She was their leader. She had taken up the mantel of Cocytus after her sire had stepped down. She was not going to be a bad leader. She would let him say his peace. Give his testimony. This was his trial. And there would be no witnesses. Judge, jury, and executioner. That was her role here. And she dared anyone to say otherwise.
RANJIT;;