We are an advanced feline and canine rp site that takes place in the lost jungles of Vikos. The life forces of the canines and felines living here are tied to their soul stones. With their soul stone, they are able to grow in power and strength. Without it, they will weaken and die. Many abilities and powers can be acquired from the soul stones. How powerful you get, is up to you though.
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Atlas Says - "There have been lots of new items added to the store so check those out. There are also trait awards that everyone should qualify for and more can be earned as you rp so see which ones you can get!"
♔ Census ♔
Stats Of The Lands
naxorus
♂06
♀05
lucis temple
♂01
♀02
vikos jungle
♂05
♀03
kyon
♂02
♀02
outlands
♂01
♀00
total
♂15
♀12
♔ Weather ♔
8/1/15 - 9/1/15
FALL - The temperature is starting to fall a bit as it starts to cool off. The sun isn't as hot and the relief from the heat is much needed.
Soul Stones was created by Nala. The skin was created by Dorothia @ Adoxography. The tabbed sidebar was created by kimset of RPG D'. Plug ins were made by their respective PB member. All other character info belongs to their rightful owner. Mini profile belongs to Leif. Tiger image belongs to chunga-stock. Jungle image belongs to foolishsunsets. Pixels belong to Ails.
Post by The Nameless on Aug 31, 2015 12:05:27 GMT -5
Death had come, and it took on the faceless surging of the ocean, pounding in his ears, drowning out the sound of his heart. Did it even beat anymore? Lost, so lost -- among the tides, among the drifting layers of the deep manifesting in the folds of his mind. He had been burnt, and burnt viciously by the fever that had raged for days. Hallucinations had run him ragged. He thirsted, he ached, and he felt the icy fingers of death's hand on the nape of his neck. It was the only thing that kept him on his feet. Even his endless madness had run dry, dipped too fiercely in the longing of his delusions.
Too many faces had paraded themselves before him; too many scents, and emotions. He had been stuffed to the brim with these nightmares, unable to vent, to release, to feel anything but what they told him to feel. Her voice had cracked in his mind. Their demonic tongues had burnt him like hell's fire, and yet he survived. He wasn't a fighter, no, no, more like a weed, without the sense to stay dead. So he rose, again, and again, in the midst of the flames: bruises peppered his body from where he launched himself from one wall to the next. His shoulder was semi-dislocated, cracked open in the midst of a dementia episode. What was this sickness that still raged within him?
It was a rumbling thing, as if it were slowly going to boil over and begin again. And again. And again. As many times as it took to kill this seemingly immortal creature. Yet the creature remained, nearly destroyed, but alive, and breathing. The snow leopard coughed, a wheezing laugh that cracked halfway through and stumbled into the silence. Even that effort burst forth a dam of blood from his mouth: had his teeth already fallen out? His entire body hurt, and it was impossible to separate one from the next. It was simply pain, and it had dulled with the senselessness of the already dying. Everything was dark, and shallow. Scents had no meaning. Everything tasted of rot and blood.
So he stumbled, through the depths of his tunnels, and so he walked, a scourge on the living, avoided like the very plague. It didn't matter. Eventually he knew the walking would stop, and the fever would rise, and the demons with it. Soon, he would see her again, her voice a vicious thing in his head, against the bruises on his flesh. He ached for her, in a tender way he did not think too much about. Only that her absence hurt as much as her presence. There was no winning.
The jungles caressed his skin, and though the temperatures were hot and muggy, he did not feel the difference. Everything was cold. Everything was dark. Everything was dying.
Each step was a numbing step toward oblivion. He did not want the quiet of eternity. He did not want the infinite quiet that comes with the ultimate dark, but it was something he knew intimately, and it had been a long time coming. So the leopard kept moving, blood dripping from his face, from his muzzle, his flanks, his paw. Infection had set in. Flies came in hordes. Did they nest in his wounds? Did he feel maggots squirming around in their lovemaking?
The nameless didn't feel anything at all. Snorting, head hung slightly below shoulder level, he pushed on through the jungles, walking straight, sightless, nearly faceless. Tired. So tired.
{Soon, my lovely one}
His ears trembled at the sound, his body quivering with a need he could not determine. He whined, his voice high pitched and piteous as he lifted his head up. He could not see her. "Where are you?" He rumbled, voice ground up like broken glass. The unspoken need of a child for his mother had finally crashed through the sickness, laying bare everything he had always kept hidden.
{Soon}
He stumbled; if he could have cried, perhaps he would have. Instead, the snow leopard bulldozed on. "Please." he whined, stepping through foliage and jungle roots. Come back--- and he crashed, headlong through the bush and into an open courtyard. Step. Step....Step. He heaved himself up, his body writhing in distress, contradicting his will even as he forced himself forward, and nearly plunged headfirst into the cool fountain waters. Come back...
Satisfaction rippled through Fondue's fuzzy body as he looked down upon his new baby. The small plot of freshly turned earth had completely taken over the southeast corner of Lucis Temple was the receiver of this tender gaze and it was with great love that he patted the dirt down over a shriveled root. Picking up a slender wooden stake which had the word "ginger" written neatly on it he placed it firmly to the left of the plant. A small wicker basket sat to the right of the fluffy feline and seemed to contain just about everything a fall gardener could ever wish for. Small pawsized tools leaned neatly out the edge, presenting their handles for the worthy feline while a variety of neatly arranged seeds and tubers coated the bottom.
Wiping his brow, the pallas cat looked over at the setting sun and figured that it was probably about time for him to pack up. Besides, he was being forced to teach the incompetent third year apprentice's early tomorrow morning and he would need all the sleep he could get to deal with them. The momentary feeling of peace which had pervaded his tiny body was now replaced with his usual grumpiness. Grumbling as he grabbed everything he needed, he threw it into the basket and started making his way back to the entrance of the temple.
As Fondue walked through the arch, he felt a prickling sense of unease. Flicking his ears nervously, he handed the basket to a waiting apprentice and even neglected to berate the cub in his hurry to clean up his muddy paws. Despite all of the feline's grumpiness, if there was one thing that Fondue could do is to sense when he's needed. It has an almost reflexive instinct that he had developed over the many years as a healer and as soon as every last speck of dirt had been removed from his paws, he dashed out to the courtyard.
He could smell his patient before he even laid eyes on him and Fondue snapped quick orders to a pair of tigers, telling them to grab a litter big enough to carry a full sized male lion. Although they were a bit slow on the uptake, the sight of an extremely bloody, extremely sick leopard collapsing into the fountain seemed to convince them to hurry their lazy asses. Running to the feline, Fondue examined him quickly and administered a fast acting painkiller before before directing the tigers as they attempted to move the leopard onto the litter. "Careful you slab pawed heathens! He didn't make it this far just to die because of your graceless clumsiness!" Tsking under his breath he led them into an empty exam room and called for the only assistant who he could stand.
"Hang on you cloudy spotted fool! Let's get your fever down!" Frantically mixing herbs he nodded curtly to the matronly lynx who had entered the room and began working on getting the dehydrated cat hydrated. Hours passed in frantic movement, slowly though the bleeding stopped, the fever went down and between the two of them Fondue and the lynx managed to pop the leopards shoulder back into place. "Thank you Lian, I'll let you know if I need anything else." Checking one last time to make sure his patient was as comfortable as he could make him, Fondue gave the leopard a mild sedative to make sure he would sleep through the remainder of the night and most of the morning. Completely exhausted, Fondue almost made it to the door of the exam room. That is until the floor attacked him and forced him into a deep sleep.
Post by The Nameless on Sept 15, 2015 10:23:26 GMT -5
He dreamt of her in ways he had never dreamt of her before. There was no violence, no blood -- there was no cruelty in her voice, or in her words. She was gentleness itself, her body enfolding all of him as if he were a cub again, and they had started over. There were no demons, in this dream. There was no darkness, only light, only brightness, and the brilliance of her touch on his skin. She would not let him go -- over, and over she spoke these words. He was hers, and hers alone -- over and over, the rumbling, thrumming sound of her voice in his ears like the rushing tide, no, no the pounding thrum of his heart in his throat. He could not be without her -- even after death his crazed mind had splintered and fractured, taking a piece of her with him.
And now? Now, so close to death, he had found what it was he was searching for -- her touch, like this blinding white light, this soft whispering wind. Even if his heart were to stop, and this moment would be stretched out into infinity it would never be enough. This piece of fiction that he had created, he wanted to hold as carefully as he could -- but he was a clumsy creature, not meant for breeding life, but for taking it. Even here, in his dreams, it crumpled.
The nameless could not hold onto her as she began to wither away into the ether; as the very darkness invaded the light and took her with it. Alone -- always alone. Abandoned, unwanted, unneeded, unnecessary -- the nameless creature floated in this infinite dark with the ease of one used to drowning.
The first thing he noticed was the pain -- or the lack of it. Pieces came, so slowly, as careful as that structured dream. Scents filled his nose, unfiltered and clean, so different from the back alleys of the agora he had become used to. So different from the sewers he had made a home in. Then light, filtering in his one un-ruptured eye, gleaming even as the sun spilled it's rays through the windows. Warmth. Painlessness. Easiness. He did not understand, and in his misunderstanding, the snow leopard tried to move.
Muscles seized, bones protested, and all that painlessness came crashing down like a hammer on his body, breaking everything all over again. Tongue caught between his teeth, jaw clenched, the nameless held his breath while gravity settled in painful contours on his body. He should not be standing, should not be moving -- but he moved nonetheless, forcing his body to leave the bed in which he had woken.
A small cat was on the floor, nearly sprawled as if he had fallen. Hunkering down, easing the pressure of all his wounds, the nameless lied down on his haunches, his chin resting on the floor as he inched forward, closer to this creature with the strange curiosity of a kitten. He was not, by nature a killer -- and in this open environment, he inched forward on the floor, curiosity cupping his ears forward. He hurt, but it was better than standing, and infinitely better than being caught on the table.
One paw reaching out, the bigger cat tilted his head sideways, ears perked, his one eye opened and curious as he placed his gigantic paw on the back of the smaller cat, between the shoulder blades. What kind of creature was this? Hunger hadn't made it's presence known, and so without the leash of that desire driving him forward, he had only curiosity to drive him.
Lying in a patch of sunlight warmth spread throughout Fondue's body like a sip of hot chocolate on a winter day. The pallas cat had the unfortunate habit of staying awake for far too long which meant that when sleep finally caught up to him, it refused to let him go for several hours beyond what was normal. Despite the circumstances of his current slumber, Fondue's prodigious amount of fur cushioned and insulated him from the stone floor. Paws twitching as if in chase of prey, his expression was lax and devoid of any irritation. That is, it was until a large and heavy paw sank into the fluff and rested on his shoulder blades.
Suddenly poignantly awake, Fondue scrambled out from underneath the leopard's paw, his fur standing on end and back arching in reflex. With his triangular ears flat to his skull and pupils dilated the overall effect was that of an angry pillow that had been stuffed full of static. Quickly assessing the situation, the healer scrambled to take control of what was happening. "What are you doing out of bed?! I didn't save your flea ridden life so that you could jeopardize recovery the very next day!" Tail lashing in irritation, Fondue trotted over to the table and started pulling down a few vials and bundles of herbs. "Now, I imagine that you are still experiencing a bit of pain from your wounds so I will fix you a painkiller. This will make you feel like you are back up to 100% but if you leave your bed again before I authorize it I will induce a coma for you until I am certain that everything is fully healed." Grinning at the thought of putting his patient into a deep sleep indefinitely, Fondue carefully began to measure out ingredients.
When the medicine was prepared he turned back around to face the large cat. "Oh and I suppose you should know that my name is Fondue, I will be your healer during your stay at Lucis Temple." Trotting over to the leopard he looked over him analytically, making sure that everything appeared as it should. As soon as he took the medicine Fondue would do a full examination. "If you will just return to your bed now you can take the painkiller and I can answer any questions you have."
Post by The Nameless on Oct 21, 2015 9:41:42 GMT -5
He was a flurry, a tornado - a crazy little fluffy thing that swirled and whirled around, throwing words as adamantly as he threw his miniature weight. It caught the nameless off guard for sure, but not in a bad way. Oh no, oh no -- it was a craze of motion that caught his one remaining eye with the light of a curiosity that did not die. He had poked the creature, nose along the floor, one eye transfixed as life seemed to flow into those small furry features. A twisted snarl, a startled hiss, then exclamations, too fast to follow as the snow leopard hunched down on the floor, for all the world like a kitten himself, scolded into stillness.
It didn't matter that with one swipe he could have possibly killed the old one. It didn't matter that not even a span of days ago he had indulged in the worst of his habits. All of that careless slaughter meant nothing when faced with this easy gruffness. It was a warmth he wasn't used to, and didn't even know he craved until it showed itself. Muscles relaxing on the floor, the snow leopard tracked the smaller cat's -- Fondue's, he tried so hard to remember - movements, chin still on the floor, head lolling sideways, ears flicked back in a show of internal chagrin. Pleasure pulsed inside of him, not of the physical kind, but the blushing touch of a hearth's warmth that lulled him into obedience.
Vials clattered, claws pinched herbs, measured ingredients, sniffed results; the silence the leopard held was easy, untouched by strain, open curiosity rolling around in his one infinite eye. Then he came closer; even scruffier closer up than he had first thought, the smaller creature's fearlessness made the nameless chuff out a breath between his blackened lips; his eye caught Fondue's trying to focus on the cat's words, even as they blurred in and out of his ears. "--return...bed.... pain...lers." the snow leopard shook his head slightly, inhaling the scent of medication, before he heaved himself upward, a groan ripping through his mid-section.
He did not stumble, but the groan became a growl, the open curiosity dying in his eye as he shuffled forward, and barely managed to heave himself upward onto the bed. The world was blurring, heavy streaks flicking across his vision, burning his very retinas as he collapsed onto the bedding, tail flinging upward and crashing limply against the wall. He huffed, breath coming short, as he stared at the smaller cat, "Why didn't," he paused, his scrambled thoughts trying to put together the words needed to convey his feelings. "Why didn't you-" jaw locked momentarily, "----kill me?"
He had been dying, of that he knew, in his bones. Death didn't seem so terrible, but this sort of waking into life, a rebirth of sorts, didn't seem so terrible either. His usefulness was a tapered thing, his set of skills, a narrow niche at best. How could he help a healer, when all he brought was death? Muzzle twitching, the nameless' ears flicked down and back. There were too many questions, too many things swirling around in his head, hidden by the tidal wave of power that had so recently been provoked and disappeared. His soul stone gleamed a pale color, but without being able to see it, without knowing all of that untapped power was flowing in his bones, the nameless was left lost, and confused, straining to remember bits and pieces of reality that clashed with the terrors of his nightmares. Had he met his mother again? Had he killed her, again?
Atlas Says - "There have been lots of new items added to the store so check those out. There are also trait awards that everyone should qualify for and more can be earned as you rp so see which ones you can get!"
