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All Welcome [Kids] Fate









Exposed
Female
Havok Queen
Wolf
© Akradr
4.5 (6.75) years
Height: 38in
Posts: 127
AP: 138AP
Linked Accounts

Weight: 160lbs

[Kids] Fate

(This post was last modified: 09-26-2019, 05:53 PM by Exposed. Edited 1 time in total.)

Exposed “Artio” Lebraid


Wrong me once, I'll kill you twice.


Ageing had become of the children, and their responsibilities among Havok had yet to be ordered — not only that, but the offspring of a Lebraid.

Perhaps it was time.

And no, she dare not to include their pitiful, pathetic and cowardly father; he was a traitor, an embarrassment to the throne and to himself. Why, she’d slit the cunt’s throat in an instant. A snarl gargled from the back of her throat, incinerating and drowned by loathe as she paved among the oreg’s grieving plague: plans had been brewing, deployment inventive as she sought to get exactly what she wanted. Here would do, even. Ventriloquism geared into action without rhythm or rhyme, amplify therein grating Lebraid’s vocals across the dull wild’s undergrowth, hackles dancing -- overcast came in the brink of dusk, but it wouldn’t be known. Being blind had its curses, though she managed nonetheless. Smoketrail wisped a parade of white and wine-like smog, ashes corroding from the mist like a pulsating fire –– a simple rise in power proved the devil well, did it not? Havok would not fail, and she expected absolute compliance. If these expectations could not be met by those who subordinated beneath the throne, then so be it, for they’ll simply be removed. One way or another, mercy will be given. White, milken orbs refused to blink at the praise of audition and radar’s curse, eyeing the vacant space of darkness and depression –– a mere disadvantage would not stop the queen, and that was that. Had they not understood this by now? Do any of them dare go against the laws and foundations of Havok’s leadership? She wouldn’t let it become the epiphany or shame of Arkham’s disbandment, nor the Coven’s pathetic outcome by a broth of fools. Ashen ears pinned in utter disdain as the woman slid over the earth, skin practically crawling with anticipation, jaws unhinged and breaths ragged at the pinnacle of a novel. Rough, metal-like vocals slithered past Lebraid’s lips in gurgled hisses, soon pausing as she called for her children -- they had to know what they wanted -- Lebraid expected something.

Slowly, those over-extended canines licked every ounce of saliva that slaved her lips, tongue furled and expression void of emotion.

OC Note: All Lebraid kiddos needed. <3



Psychic 0/15 | Bardic 3/15 | Shadow 0/2.
Charm 0/1 | Smoketrail 1/1.
Audition ∞ | Radar ∞ | Endurance ∞.


Action. | “Speech.” | Magic.

Original Image





Exposed is cold, calculating, disturbed & psychotic.
Wears a satanic sigil necklace w/ shadow infused on it.

"Wrong me once, I'll kill you twice."


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Lysander
Male
Havok Resident
Wolf
© Abnormal
1.25 years
Height: 40 in
Posts: 8
AP: 18AP
Linked Accounts

Weight: 180 lbs

RE: [Kids] Fate



Ears perk as the shrill call of his mother pierced his drums. Eyes narrow as brow arched, what could she want? Tail aids in balance as the growing young man picked up a brisk trot, the only being he would heed a call from was his mother. He would not even care to answer some random pathetic mongrel’s call. No, only his mothers, she was the only one. Making his way through the Wilds, careful to pick up his paws in elegant motions. Daring not to be so foolish to trip upon exposed roots. Hackles bristle as antlered skull lifts proudly, lip twitches to reveal teeth as hell hound would bound towards his maker.

He had grown so much, from being so small to being almost an adult, or was he? He didn’t care, he knew he was a big boy now and thats all the mattered. Others would bleed beneath his paws if they dare to tango with the devil’s son. As he clears the distance he spots his mother, blind as a bat she was. Yet she could see better than anyone he knew, ears pin to his skull. rotting beauty that she was. An odd combination of disgusting perfection. Tongue runs over top lip, clearing any debris that care tamper with stunning features. Low growl rips past peeled back lips, a greeting yet he knew she would be more than aware of his presence. She was brilliant like that, something hand-crafted by the Avatars. Though she may not be aware, he had been wrong before in life, but he assumed he was always right.

Chill ripples over his pelt, giving his skin an icey touch of deathly proportions. A walking corpse with less decay, he inhales deeply as he aims to close the gap between his mother and himself. He was the first to arrive and by rights he should be. He was the strongest of the litter, or so he believed. His siblings were useless, sheer disappointment like his father. He would not allow such traits to be passed to himself. No, he was nothing like that dead beat prick. Holding a growl back, he would attempt to stop a few feet from his mother, facing her head on, if she allowed. He would stand proud, lips peel back as brow arches, maturing vocals would slip, ”My Queen.” He would never be less than the best of her creations, he would die to uphold that.








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