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All Welcome Scribe









Exposed
Female
Havok Queen
Wolf
© Akradr
4.5 (6.5) years
Height: 38in
Posts: 123
AP: 100AP
Linked Accounts

Weight: 160lbs

Scribe


Exposed & Grennian

I hate you, I love you
I hate that I want you


Havok worked, and it would only go up from here.

A visit from the god’s played no foolery on the queen, of course*.

Daemon spooled from the woman’s existence without rhythm or rhyme, daring to escape, yet it could not; she paid no mind to that penniless factor, even as radar gave peripheral alongside audition. A passive promise, perhaps even a curse, that never ceased to exist. Eyes of white pierced the veil of a cold, beached peninsula, rolling waves practically slaving against the earth in pristine heartbeats from afar, unfathomed by the riots of what could be. Oh, how she loathed the serenity. She didn’t plague among the borders, however; she’d do no such thing, and simply sled on the outskirts, concerned with none. The air was warm, lit by the brink of sunlight as it became swallowed in dusk –– it wasn’t as if she could see it, however –– hisses concaved, molded by raw leather and cruel salivation. Amplify therein activated to fabricate a more gritty, curdling growl from the back of the wolf’s throat, sanctioned by the need to rule above all else. Why, she would rise in power and chaos, one way or another. Lebraid may’ve propositioned failure once when it was not allowed, but that did not mean she’d let it happen again; the disappearance of Grennian would never be forgiven, and the children will come to learn of that man’s cowardice. Oh, to behead him would be glorious. Endurance soothed against the disease of spring, but she cared little for such frail discrepancies –– an ear would flick, auditon and radar reigning havoc over the queen’s inability to see. She was still capable without it, though. Coming forward, smoketrail bled into the atmosphere, blanketed by a smog of white and wine red -- it dove and weaved, charming the walking graveyard like a risen corpse.

This place, this realm, what good were they? Does their province devise chaos? The queen scoffed, ignorant of the idea as she continued to avoid confrontation, should no-one foil it.

OC Note: Exposed is not close to the borders, but can be seen.



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


Actions. | "Grennian." & "Exposed." | Magic.








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Narcissa
Female
Vipera Queen
Tiger
© Akradr
4.25 (9) years
Height: 38in
Posts: 436
AP: 95.5AP
Linked Accounts

Weight: 199lbs

RE: Scribe

(This post was last modified: 07-26-2019, 01:01 AM by Narcissa. Edited 1 time in total.)

Narcissa Malfoy


Diamond Thrones and Royal Beds.


There was more to the Malfoy bed than diamond thrones and royal investments. Their beliefs shifted, but that didn’t change who they were.

She implored this all the more, positive of its worth as always.

‘Cissa’s intentions for Vipera were naught for nothing, of course, and she’d see it rise with expectation and glory –– like Morsmordre, their right to rule would never be dishonoured. It will never be removed nor challenged against, so she sought to praise. That, for one, was a promise the porcelain vowed to keep; they held an unscathed reputation, of course, and she’d keep it that way. A delicate brow arched in favor of spring’s arrival, aware of the peninsula’s existence nearby, yet she did not care to approach it. Why, they’d doubted the queen’s capabilities before, did they not? Narcissa did not appreciate their lack of foresight and disposition. Featherfoot activated on heavy command, ice point sheeting the very claws she bore, inclusive to every tooth that did not bare without reason or rhyme. They were cold, solidified by ice. Magic was how they fortified their power in name, but that did not mean it was consistently necessary -- she did not need it to prove herself worthy as queen -- Narcissa Malfoy was never not one. And yes, while the blueblood hereditary prided themselves on the elements, Narcissa was more than capable of ruling a province without its powerful art. She was a master at manipulation, devious and elegant. Agile fused in concentration, wave unveiling from a puddle of water as it rose two-feet into the air, thermometer turning its warmth into a chilling temperature. That singular, oceanic-blue narrowed upon the earth in simple intricacy, jet therein filtering around the porcelain’s mouth until she spat pressurized water out like a missile, slicing the surface of a log. A purr befell, slathered in honey and sweetened tea. She paused for but a moment, barrier beginning to manifest a wall from the energies that circulated the porcelain’s existence, hailed by a golden-translucency. As such, subzero never failed to icen her skin in a chilling sensation, one she cared little for and knew nothing about. It did no harm either way.

Silence concaved nonetheless, dismissing the magic for now.

However, the sound of sickening gargles shallowed from afar, amplified in a sense that held no humble attire; her brows furrowed, not understanding who or what. The very air froze, a waft of white and wine red slaving the atmosphere momentarily in the distance -- turning, ‘Cissa left, leaving it be.

-Exit.-



Water 15/15 | Kinetic 5/15 | Psychic 0/11 | Air 1/2.
Affliction 0/1 | Axon 0/1 | Neuron 0/1 | Blood Bound 0/1 | Water Whip 0/1 | Ice Point 1/1 | Water Knife 0/1 | Icicle 0/1 | Subzero 0/1 | Dart 0/1 | Negation 0/1.
Longevity 0/1 | Dismissal 0/1 | Fellowship 0/1 | Espy 0/1 | Restoration 0/1 | Counterspell 0/1 | Cure 0/1 | Rewind 0/1.
Agile ∞ | Persuasive ∞.


Action. | "Speech." | Magic.

background from & image from





Wears a Golden Crown with woven-flora, Golden Bangle with dimonties, Golden Ring with pearlescent blue stones, Silver Cuff-Earrings with sapphires.
Possesses an imprintation of the Malfoy Crest (#7b2c00) on the left-foremost haunch.
Due to the Subzero, her skin is uncomfortably cold.

Narcissa is Immortal.



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Sirus
Male
Aldrnari Hunter
Tiger
© Abnormal
5.25 years
Height: 42
Posts: 279
AP: 28AP
Linked Accounts

Weight: 260

RE: Scribe



Embracing his parole, a chance to stretch his legs. He had been in a cell for so long, he longed for the touch of Mother Earth beneath his paws. Tail lashes as gunmetal male stands tall. Horned skull held high as violet eyes scan outside of his home. An almost larger prison, but he was content with it, it was better than his cell. Ears tilt back and breeze pushes his pelt back, inhaling deeply as he absorbs the light from the sun. He would part jaws to run his tongue over his lips, brushing any debris from them before closing jaws again. Eyes narrow as he examines the world outside of the border, weight shifts as he stands just behind the border. Brow arches to slightest movement caught in the distance. Brow would furrow as he perks his ears to listen, what was that? Smoke danced behind a figure, but how could he mistake her?

Hackles bristle along his spine as he allows eyes to latch upon the rotted wench known as Exposed. Jaw clenches, tongue pushing back within their sealed grip as muzzle wrinkles. Tail remains stiff behind him as he widens his stance and watches her from within the boundaries of his home. What had she been up to? Other than being blind as a bat, had she kept true to herself as a queen? Sirus almost felt a lustful wrench in his gut, he had felt for her before. Her power and arrogance. Her madness and chaos... Sirus shook his head gently, he wasn’t like that anymore, he couldn’t be. He could not allow himself to be influenced by the ways of a woman. Not when Syfka had done so much right for him.

Still he pined inside, for the bloodlust that was complete self destruction. Exposed could destroy even the strongest of men, and how? She was so repulsive, was she not? He would remain standing as he attempted to lock onto her with his eyes. He wanted to be her pet... He shook his head, no, he had wanted to be her pet at one point. Not anymore. He had beat her once for leadership, but then he wanted to hand it over? How did she do what she did?! Sirus was trapped in his own mind, his own turmoil of who he was and who he had become. He would not fall victim to Exposed, not again like he had. She hated him, she ignored him and rejected him. Why did he feel this inside? He would grunt deeply as he slowly lowers himself to sit, tail lashing behind him gently as he stared out towards her in silence.


"Speech." | ’Thought’ | Power

Blessed by Cyfton. the LeStrange slave brand.

OC:

Stock from Unsplash







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