Sordid Secrets
Belly of the Sphynx {aw} - Printable Version

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Belly of the Sphynx {aw} - Valypto - 01-10-2018

i fell in love with the void

What dreams will the void bring me tonight? She would query unto herself as she curled slender bod tightly against itself besides her roaring and flickering fire, eyes sliding closed and senses allowing slumber to carry her far, far away from this world, and into other worlds and dimensions alike. Or nightmares...? As soon as consciousness waned, the imagery would manifest, exquisitely sculpted from the fabrics of her profound meditative state, their twisting, concocting colors alike the potions she would spend hours harvesting, grinding, and mixing. 

Mushrooms grew from the floor, a surface of black transparent glass, through which stars could be seen in the great distance of the beyond in the process of ending their unnaturally long lives. Even Liv'resse lived and thrived in her dreams, her silver flame and equally silver tongue echoic, yonder in the unknown ether whose handle rested more easily than usual in the grooves of Valypto's mouth wherein her molars were removed by Jackal so that Liv'resse could rest betwixt her lips, rightfully where the sentient entity belonged. 

All around her were the swirling hues of magic, of energy, of divine right sealed carefully within an everlasting, infinite chamber to which there was no one true key. Her dream self, closed her eyes blissfully, letting the vigor fill her, consume her, utilize her. One's lack of faith inhibited this gracious molding, this dissent of souls and minds both sapient and unlike. The darkness had the power to break her. The darkness had the power to absolutely destroy her. And yet, here it was, like always, cradling her gently in its arms, showing her all the bounty it had tied up in the surface threads of its seemingly ruthless cosmic nature. 

When her thoughts shifted to that of Valdese Rue, her daughter that had died, and become that of spiritual blood, therein sleep her stomach wrenched, bile filling her vessels. So much guilt; so much self-reproach; Valypto had failed her daughter, though coy, and bright eyed young woman would never view her as her ultimate abdicator. Her mother however, would deal with her grief privately and silently from now on, in the unfathomed tombs of her own psyche. Death was an illusion, and yet its effects were supernal, final, and ever so, so real. 

It was then that the blackness decided to attack, far too overstimulated by such a presence frolicking in its plentiful astral meadow. With a start, Valypto's opaline eyes shot open, neck and crown now upright and scanning the area instinctively. The void was no enemy, but it was greedy, superfluous, and unwise to call it a friend. The green woman reached for a nearby potion she had recently prepared, its bottle elegantly carved from a dark green, almost black wild jade, its stopper an ornate explosion of curved gold machinations. 

Removing the stopper gently, she took a sip, feeling a succulent warmth spread in her belly. When void was an unwilling partner, she sought the light, and vouched for a midnight waking dream in which she had more control. In sleep, she hardly had any control, something that was usually appealing in the sense of letting everything go, watching it float down the golden river and into the darkened, glittering abyss of space. The potion would lessen the textile framework betwixt cartesian coordinates, and soon she would see echoes of other worlds intertwined with her own reality. What she needed most now was perspective; an all embracing, sorely vehement panorama of all that was, is, and would ever be. Such encompassing visions would always be a challenge to interpret, but she always found her answers subtly laying beneath the unturned boulders of selfless query. 

Even in the midst of shadows, the Red Bog's scarlet glow was alive and well. 


RE: Belly of the Sphynx {aw} - Dagmar - 01-10-2018

he killed the earth where he stepped. the blackened soot underneath his paws a testament to the murder, and if he had an alibi it wasn't a good one. a trail let all know it was him. he did this. let him be punished by the earthen gods long since left from the land. those pitiful pagans, their heritage stolen. their lands taken. their ideas fleeting. Dagmar struggled to breathe. his steps lethargic at best carried him to the bog. he seemed to be constantly getting hurt. it was a testament to his ancient whole being. one doesn't live as long as he without a few personal casualties. his gash had opened up again. red violent against his neck. the healing touch of the pinkette lady now long ago and forgotten. it wouldn't kill him but it hurt. it burned like red-hot irons upon his famine based flesh. the beast's regeneration ability wasn't kicking in and he didn't know why. it always helped him before. mayhap it was due to him not resting. he tended to have a sense of wanderlust about him. soon spring would be upon the land of Victus. then summer, where he'd spend the rest of that particular season hiding in the mountains out of fear for the heat. he literally melted if it was too heated, fire being his bane of existence. something about it warding off evil spirits. especially ones born of frost and cold.

he shook the thoughts from his mind and continued. his paws gave out a few times but stubbornness made him continue. he came smelling of the crypt itself, from Exilium land. it had been but a day. "gaaa..." he murmured curiously, dead sockets peering forward to see the vivid green of another being. it was an oddity to see such bright colors against the dead of winter's breath. well, at least green. it wasn't a very common thing in this season. he was instantly intrigued by the other. a female of soft edges yet displaying a wildness about her. he crept closer, seeing her down a flask of some sort and he tilted his head. the monstrosity neared again until he was almost upon her. he hadn't known she had taken something to make her see differently. his appearance may be frightful to her in this state. may. he was forever confused by the knowledge this land had with the dead. some did not be bothered by him. others feared him. told their pups to look away, else the boogeyman would get them. he stood staring at the lady for a few more minutes before he felt his haunches collapse under him. he sat on the ground in front of her. thrusting his jaw out, he tasted the air. it smelt of many things. mostly the sickness that was in that flask. it smelt foul to him. 

" mmm... kay?" he said audibly enough for the other. he wanted to ask if she was okay. that she hadn't drunk anything poisonous. though her body did not writhe in pain. it was almost blissful to watch. another tilt of the head. another eyeless stare. he waited for her, to speak or do something for him to understand.

@Valypto - ### - so whelp this happened

RE: Belly of the Sphynx {aw} - Lilith - 01-11-2018

You are not a flower in hell
Don't blossom in such a place

The putrid stench of old, rancid meat drew Lilith from the edges of the Darkwood. It had revolted her, at first—made her lips curl back from her teeth and her face wrinkle in absolute disgust. But she was bored, having spent the last few hours walking along Atrox's borders in hopes of finding an unfamiliar face. And boredom, for her, was a dangerous thing, not unlike a sickness in the way that it spread throughout her body and took hold of her mind, poisoning it with thoughts of wandering to places unknown to her. As awful as the stench was, she couldn't help but feel tempted to follow it and track down its source; even if it was an old, half-eaten carcass that some wolf had left behind, finding it would at least give her something to do.

The Darkwood was where she spent most of her time, whether she was sleeping or playing games or enjoying a nice meal—it was her home within her larger home of Atrox. But she was by no means bound to it, and knew that no one would come looking for her if she left, as long as she was back before too long. After all, there was no real reason for any of them to worry about her; she was a full-blooded acerbus, now, and more than capable of taking care of herself.

It was a fairly short journey to the mist-filled bog that she had once gotten lost in, some few months before her "reunion" with Namasté and the wolves of Atrox. She remembered its aura—its eerieness, and how it made her skin crawl beneath her pale, painted fur—but she didn't let it bother her, and kept her head held high, the rotten scent leading her deep into the bog's bleeding heart. Once there, she found what she'd been looking for: a great beast that wore the skull of a wolf and reeked of rotten flesh. He looked like he'd just dragged himself out of a frozen lake, small icicles clinging to the edges of his dull grey fur, and despite the thickness of his coat, she could tell that it'd been a while since he'd last eaten. But there was someone else with him, and Lilith turned to look at them after a moment, her eyes widening with interest and awe. It was a beautiful woman, her fur a vivid shade of green, ears and tail adorned with metal rings. She stood and stared at her for longer than what was probably considered polite; then her eyes drifted to the thing that sat on the ground beside her, and she tilted her head a little. "What's that...?"

It was not the potion that had caught her attention, but the golden object that held within it a small, silver flame. She'd never seen anything quite like it, before, and was curious, but had enough self-restraint to keep herself from going and touching it; it was obvious that it belonged to the woman, and she doubted that she would want some stranger putting their paws on it.


OOC: YAAAY, I FINALLY GET TO MEET VAL! And I'm assuming that her lantern's right there; hope that's alright. c:
@Valypto @Dagmar

RE: Belly of the Sphynx {aw} - Valypto - 01-11-2018

i fell in love with the void

The sound, the feel, the scent; all belong to death, approached keen senses even in the thickness of her pensive state. Death and she were old acquaintances, now the entity that barred her daughter from experiencing the world of the living any longer. Though they were still one with this world, unable to pass on into the great beyond for their roots and ambitions in this life are far more binding than the desire to dissipate into anything and everything. 

The more Valypto contemplated death, the more she found herself at peace with it, yet it was so like the void; interchangeable, mutable, forever adapting and morphing into new forms of perception. Was Valdese bound to this world, she wondered, imprisoned, and unable to escape? Did her ties with family, and familiarity, inhibit her from leaving this one world which was all she had ever known? What lay beyond Valdese' spectral status taunted the green priestess so; perhaps she and her daughter could explore those endless aspects together. One day. 

When the encroaching form came into view, Valypto simply regarded him blankly, eyes invisibly roving across his seemingly decaying body and bone-chiseled crown. He were a monster from a blackest pit, yet she did not cower. She would not shy away from ugliness, not when it approached her so cautiously. This man reeked of expiry, of malodorous passing and decomposing flesh frozen to his marrow-less, broken-furred skeleton. “Ahhh...?” He breathed, exhaling grotesquely and letting loose a stream of rancid breath. Beneath him, what life that had blossomed therein her own presence in this land would wither, and die beneath the very ground which he tread. 

" mmm... kay?" Croaked his voice, each tenor shackled, and torn to pieces as it escaped from betwixt lipless mouth. She could feel herself smile in his regard, a twisted, coiled expression that wreaked of ill intent. She could only imagine her unwelcoming expression was nothing in the harrowing face of this death-omen of a creature. No matter; he was welcome to her fire. With a soft, gentle wave of her paw, his own legs became encased within an ethereal film of acidic green, the hue brightly aglow across his fraying skin. It was so that he would cease to kill anything else therein her richly green hollow, a small hovel of mobile jungle with which she could carry with her everywhere. His powers, and predisposition to energies that discontinue life would not sway her from rewarding his bravery for encroaching upon her that eve. 

“Yes...I am okay.” Valypto whispered unto his mind in telepathic softness. His psyche, too, was riddled with dust, ground bones, and spiderwebs. He planted himself in front of her, and she made no effort to rise, but merely gestured toward her fire. “Can the dead enjoy a good fire, at least?” And then another, whose aural impendence seemed to assault Valypto's cognition with a familiar eldritch gleam. The new female carried the scent of Atrox with her, heavily, and it was then that the priestess felt herself stiffen. It was a hasty speculation, but perhaps a youth wandering outside the borderlands of Atrox should not concern herself with two vagabonds, especially a cryptic vagabond and a horrifyingly attributed spirit. Valypto's khol lined lips curled into yet another ostensibly devious smile as the girl curiously eyed Liv'resse glimmering enthusiastically at the green woman's side, anxious and rejuvenated from the presence of such unknown blood. 

“What's that...?” She said more to herself than to the wolves she had infringed upon. Valypto's smile widened. “Why, a part of my soul, dear.” Valypto replied enigmatically. 


:: Used 'Nature Pull' and 'Healing' to encase Dagmar's legs in temporary yet formidable plant essence so that his decay would not affect what plants she had grown in the current area. ::

@Dagmar @Lilith

RE: Belly of the Sphynx {aw} - Dagmar - 01-11-2018

it was the same. Exilium brought mind searchers too. invaders to the hell inside his own. Dagmar did not know what to make of this transgression. he only accepted it as it was. the woman did not stir as so much acknowledge him. she was not afraid of him. this did not surprise him; she seemed calmer than most. more aware. more understanding. yes, that was the word for it. she understood. though he did not know why, and would not ask. he could not. his mouth felt glued shut most of the time. he only ratted the bones. and those bones were dry. 'goodie' his childish mind spoke in regard to her confirming she was well. a pretty lady such as herself should have no troubles of the world. yet when she spoke of fire... if he had eyes he would have widened them in fear. instead, he became erratic in motion, trying to pull away from the flames that threatened his life. 

"n...naooooooo" he moaned, shaking his head vividly. he pulled away from the fire but could not. his legs encased, but only in his mind. rooting him to the spot. he dared not move so much, unsure of the glowing. unsure if he should even move. would it hurt if he did? he thought so in that troubled mind of his. "b-ba.... bad. fire." oh how the tribe used to shove it into his face. burn him badly. threaten him. he felt visibly uncomfortable despite the woman's no ill will. huffing, he turned his head away from the flame's gaze. at least his neck no longer hurt by the heal's vibes. it was then that another showed up. another pretty lady. her fur softly white compared to the ragged grey of his own. markings corrupted the albinism though they seemed to match her. she was with little horns as well. Dagmar watched as she approached, clear curiosity on her mind and voice. she spoke to the flames. or of them. the first woman simply told her it was part of her soul. a shadow? those shadows he heard tell of in this land. he was without one. he was ever alone. 

'soul...?' he questioned, shooting a thought across his mind to the green woman. ' fire a soul? then... f-fire not bad. fire part of the pretty lady.' his gaze shot to the albino woman, visually relaxed now. he had no reason to fear the fire here if the first woman had welcomed him to it. it was simply part of her. he had to accept that much, else he was doomed to unacceptance of himself. "mmm. h..." hello. he wanted to say hello to the other but found he was at a loss for that word right now. it'd been too long since he used it. too many centuries of loneliness to even begin to say it. he hadn't used it on his victims. he snuck at them, darting quickly to end their lives. there was no need to converse with the soon dead. he ate even their spirits after death. he looked at the green woman again after a few moments more of silence. willing her quietly to speak for the both of them. he did not feel shame at his lacking ability. it was as it was. it was a nothingness he had to take hold of himself. 

@Valypto @Lilith - ### - oh no fire

RE: Belly of the Sphynx {aw} - Lilith - 01-12-2018

You are not a flower in hell
Don't blossom in such a place

Smiling, the woman said that it was a part of her soul, and Lilith blinked at the flickering flame, her head tilting further to one side. Long, long ago, Berthadhiell had told her about soul shadows, creatures in which pieces of a wolf's soul dwelt. They lived as long as their wolves lived, and when their wolves died, there was a good chance that they, too, would fall prey to Death. But she'd never heard of a wolf's soul being inside of an object. Far too curious to remain where she stood, Lilith took a step toward the odd, golden entity, its warmth greeting her. "Is it really?" she asked the woman, though her eyes didn't leave the little flame. "But how come it's in this thing? Did you put it there, to keep it safe?"

She could think of no other reasonable explanation. And it was strange, to think that a piece of this woman's own soul had been sealed inside of some... thing. But she had immortalized it, in that way, ensuring that it couldn't be hurt or killed, unlike the fleshy vessels of most wolves' souls.

Briefly, Lilith's gaze shifted to the skull-wearing beast that sat a little ways away from her. His stench was beyond foul, but she found that she could tolerate it—at least enough to stop herself from losing what little food she'd had to eat, earlier. And he didn't seem to want to hurt her or the woman. When he turned to look at her, he tried to speak, but it was a challenge for him, and after a while he gave up and shifted his attention to the woman. Lilith wondered if she would somehow be able to understand what it was that he'd wanted to say, but her own focus was on the flora that surrounded her. The magic that rolled off of her in waves seemed to feed it, breathing life into flowers and ferns that wouldn't otherwise exist in such a bleak, barren place. Gradually, however, Lilith's eyes found their way back to the thing that held the woman's soul. It captivated her, and she had a small hunch that there was a bit more to it than what she could see.

"Does it have a name?" she asked, and then she looked up from it to meet the woman's milky gaze. "Do you have a name...?"


@Valypto @Dagmar

RE: Belly of the Sphynx {aw} - Valypto - 01-12-2018

i fell in love with the void

An eerie sensation of pity washed over her as she gazed upon the delapidated man, his status and regard that of a fearful child perpetually fleeing from the haze of nightmares which always seemed to follow him. Had such nightmares taken hold of his soul, causing him to rot from the inside out? Spirits were creatures of death; and yet all the spirits she had witnessed were not nearly as haggard, nowhere near as grotesque. 

How did he wander this earth with such feeble mindset, how had his flayed body carried him all this way, even in the realm of the deceased? The questions haunted Valypto pleasurably, as the presence of an maliciously intended specter would ironically soothe her frenzied capacity. He was stunning in his own right; truly stunning, by every definition of the word, and perhaps not in the positive aspects most would consider. A sight to behold; yes he was, and though his mephitis reeked of his near extinction, it seemed his atrophy honed him as the earth very much molded herself. 

When she offered him to her bonfire, he would mouth, or rather breathe, his reply of resistance, attempting to shy away from the fire yet mental constrictions kept him from turning tail. She glanced at the green plasma encasing his legs, and wondered if her luminous, thriving, life-bestowing energy somehow caused him discomfort, or even pain, due to his decomposing nature. He feared the fire; was this how he became so disfigured and monstrous? 

After she greeted the newcomer, she heard his thoughts, so clearly, riddled with broken, tremulous language. “Soul...?” He echoed therein his psyche. ”fire a soul? then... f-fire not bad. fire part of the pretty lady.” Valypto said nothing to him, but merely smiled upon hearing the reverberation of his thoughts. Even the poorest of souls needed interaction. She was not a prime candidate, but she would do her very best. 

“Is it really?” The young woman queried somewhat inquisitively, exquisitely masking the true meat of her intrigue beneath a thin surface of Atroxian conviction. "But how come it's in this thing? did you put it there, to keep it safe?" Liv'resse somehow knew she was being spoken of, her flame flickering excitedly within the glass casing, and malachite and gold plating of the lantern. Through the tinted glass Valypto observed the wax of her candle ever melting from the feverish intensity of her brilliance and heat of her own combustion. 

“Would you like to ask her yourself?” Valypto replied, with a salacious grin. “Be not afraid...she means you no harm. In fact, I daresay she is eager to greet my guests.”


@Dagmar @Lilith

RE: Belly of the Sphynx {aw} - Dagmar - 01-12-2018

the woman said nothing to him, only smiled almost gently at him when he thought-spoke. he hoped he hadn't offended her with calling her pretty. did woman like that? he had no experience. it had been a nice thing to say, at least for him, and he didn't expect anything to come of it. it was just a compliment for somebody who had been nothing but nice to him. the other woman seemed a bit wary of him still and he did all he could to keep still and seem non-threatening. most of the time he was in the woods or mountains, stalking unwilling prey and devouring them whole. his fleshless jaws could unhinge without restraint of muscle. and when the albino woman spoke more, her crimson gaze fixed on the lantern, Dagmar found he was a bit interested as well. a lantern would be ideal to carry around. you always knew where it was because you took more care of it than an animal's soul. it looked loving cared for as well, a testament to the loyalty of the green woman. "pur...prit... priii-dee" he spoke, at last, his words taxing on his very soul. he stretched his head out to motion at the flame. if it was indeed alive and part of the woman, he would like to think it would enjoy words spoken to it.

there was another moment when the woman spoke, saying that it could, in essence, understand and even be asked questions. he tilted his head at the albino woman, waiting for her to ask such things of it. earlier she had looked curiously at him as if trying to understand what he was trying to say to her. he looked to the earth once more, a feeling of rare shame burning in his belly. he couldn't speak for the longest time due to being scared of the other beast in the kept cavern. he just did as he was told by it, never questioning the reasons. it had been a monster. and monsters did not often need reasons for the awful things they did. but he too was a monster for eating it. cannibalism... even to survive... was a taboo. but cannibalizing the dead itself? he did not know if it was a true crime. name? name name name he echoed the first. it'd been so long since he spoke his name. he had never had the need. but now he was surrounded by others, whose names he did not know but would like to. so it was the polite thing to do. name... he spoke softly in his mind, tilting his head once more. oh, gods, he had forgotten his name. the tribe that captured and beat him called him a vulture. a scavenger of the bodies. but there was a deeper name. something a mother had called him.

in another rare act, he bent his head to the lantern, getting a bit close. the fire seemed to bear him no ill will. hallo he spoke to it, wondering if it could mind-speak as well. another few thoughts on his own before the tone of his dead mother spoke to him. dagmar. his name was dagmar. a woman's name often unknown to others. it had a strong masculine tone to it. i am... de...da...dagmar. "Dagmar" he spoke, clear and precise. surprising himself. "n-name. Dagmar."

@Valypto @Lilith - ### - oh no fire