moving>m o u n t a i n s __ open;;

[Cap'n Sankari V.]

She remembered when there was snow; remember the feeling of all that cold pressed against her skin, inflaming her lungs with a burning cough; she remembers death lingering closer than kin. She remember blood spilled on barren wintry fields. But it was just a memory -- though one she constantly sought out, that taste of blood on her tongue, like iron, foul and rotted as she swallowed it down. It was all gone, but the land didn't evoke happy memories.

It was here that she had killed before, and as a fed came up, blade blazing, eyes alight with hate, she would kill again -- she moved her arm like it didn't weigh nearly fifty pounds on it's own. She moved it like it was air that could kill without ever moving -- and she did, with pleasure, her eyes narrowing as she sliced through his wrist with her katana, not watching as the blade fell to the ground. She took a quick step, running into his guard and slicing up from navel to throat, her breath fogging the cold morning air around them. The SS Freedom lingered just out of reach, ready for the signal to pick up their cohorts -- but she wasn't ready. not yet. Not when there was still blood to be spilled. Not when so many of them still deserved to die ---

Sankari V smiled, so close to his face she could kiss him -- but she spat instead, her saliva red with blood as she kicked him down and ducked under another swing in her direction. She turned on her heel, still low and sliced at the man's knees -- no, it was a woman. The woman jumped back enough to keep her legs intact, but Kari was on the hunt now, the war-path to destruction. She tasted the woman's blood on her blade and followed closely, not letting any space fill between the retreat and the attack: she hacked at the woman's breast, coming into contact with her arms -- brutally, efficiently, she cut the woman down. Her eyes were cold, like fiery pools of water; but they were outnumbered.

Having lingered too close to the encampment, they had been taken unawares and now nothing was left but retreat -- so her pirate fiends retreated while their leader hacked away mindlessly at limbs and heads, searching for death and finding only more and more before her; they left her, because they knew she would survive -- to get within her guard and drag her off would be more difficult than to find her later. Kari's eyes slid to the side to watch the SS Freedom slip higher than the horizon and into the clouds; she was being cornered -- the rush of water behind her screaming, the creaking groan of her joints giving away her weakness. The woman was building up a sweat, and it stuck to her skin, as humid as leather, her hair frizzy and full of blood; her eyes full of blood lust. There was no fear here, only the resolution -- she would die, or she would kill.

So she killed, and killed, hacking away as she was tiredly herded closer to the river, closer to the roar of death that screamed through her ear drums. Even her heart beat could not compete with it's gushing, rushing growl. Without any place to go, without anyone around, Kari slid her legs slightly more apart, on the balls of her feet; her sword was placed between them and her, her arm heavy, her shoulder on fire. Was the Drone finally dying? Would this be the end? She smiles at the expressions on their faces -- that they would go down in history as the men who took down the Drone! That they, these pesky little shrimp, could take down someone who would release the world of slavery! She didn't smile, or frown -- there was only stillness, only the pervasive need to win, and to survive. They could chat and discuss strategy later.

Now, was for survival.

Another step back -- the ground was unstable, water splashing against her back. They edged even closer to her, their blades ready, wanting to rush in, too afraid to do so. Was she still okay? Or was she just another dead woman trying to play hero? She spat at their feet, "You think you've won?" she whips out her great knout and snaps it in the air, the heavy copper weight clashing with one of the fed's head -- he crumpled, unconscious. The blow to his temple, almost fatal, had she had another chance at it; instead, she aims it wildly and takes that last step into the fall of the water, letting the waves lap at her heavy iron appendages and sucking her under.

She tries to breath, but cannot -- instead, she squeezes her eyes against the fear of drowning that has always followed her after she had lost her limbs. Now, there was no time: she sank and sank, and sank, but the river the swift, instead of deep and it vomited her out onto rocks of white water rapids, her back nearly snapping in two as she crashed into a sharp rock. Kari groans, falling unconscious as her body is spat onto the shore of the stone lake, her breath rapid, fire in her joints, invading her dreams, making her remember blood in all it's forms. And winter, as snow falls and falls in her mind.

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word count;; 918
tags;; ANYONE! P-P-PLEASE?!
OOC;; I'll make it pretty later. Or not, depending on my mood.

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[Moonlit]

Cymmie could sense the problems as soon as the captain hit the river. The water spoke to her, telling her all it's secrets and it hit her like a wave, pushing past her surface thoughts into her deeper consciousness. She snarled, turning on the S.S. Freedom's deck. She knew she shouldn't have left the captain there, not by herself. Sankari was too important to the plan to lose now. Glancing over the edge of the ship, Cymmie's emerald gaze fell upon the dark form of the falling Kari. Too far away, too far. The waves then told Cymmie that Sankari was okay, only hurt.

Waiting until the S.S. Freedom was over the river she went running and leaped over the ship's side. No one seemed to notice the blue shape that flew over the railing, in the shape of a perfect dive. As soon as she reached within ten feet of the water, it rose to meet her and she was cushioned in her fall. An air bubble appeared around her head and she was off, shooting through the water, like a knife. She was soon shot over the side of the lake and she dipped into it with ease, avoiding all the sharp rocks by once again being lowered by the water.

She slipped into a standing position as she walked over to the captain, the bubble disappearing and quickly she was beside Sankari.She smiled at the young woman as she bent over her and gently said, "Captain? Are you okay? Are you hurting anywhere?" Cymmie wanted to reach down and touch the injured woman, and usually would without asking. But right now was not the time to be pushing her limits with the captain. She was injured and probably looking to hit something. It only made sense to hang back and see what would happen.

Cymmie's eyes did a quick scan of the woman's body and it was already darkening with bruises.

Words: 335
Muse: Good
Song: N/A
OOC: Wanted to write more but my Brother tore me away Sorry D=

[Cap'n Sankari V.]

Ah, the pain; she was in a graveyard, the darkness stifling, the very air noxious as she breathed it in; poison made her gasp, gag, vomit in her mouth: she swallows it back down, squinting her eyes into the darkness. There is no point -- in this place, where death is smearing the line of life, there is no light, only shadow stretched out for eons as she reached for the light she knew had to be somewhere -- so she gets up despite the fire in her joints, in her lungs as blood drips down her chin. She moves, despite the weight that drags her down.

Sankari lives, despite the death that reach up with jaws cracking open in dismay. Stay with us! they cry, but even if they had different faces, a dearer face, she would not look. This is for you, she thinks, in agony, huffing so hard that smog poured out with blood before her; was this really how she was going to die? In some little no-nothing place somewhere in her subconscious? But this was the battle.

This was always the battle -- gravity, as she moved herself uphill, her fingers reaching for skulls and bones as she picked her way upward, always being held down. Chains snaked their way around her ankles, her thighs, pulling her tight as she grunted, reaching -- reaching ---- reaching -------- r- ---- -

"FUCK!" she cries, bolting upward --- only to reel down again, despite the sense of reality that had shifted around her. Oxygen coursed through her lungs, burning her, igniting her need for life as she gulped it down despite the pain. Despite anything -- she was greedy for life. Like a child, always needing to be fed, and fed, and fed. Dizziness made everything difficult.

Blood tainted her lips as she rolled onto her stomach, face squashed against the cool earth and vomited. "Where the fuck am I? she groans, eyeballs rolling up into her skull as the world kept reeling head over heels. Over and over -- clouds were dancing, the earth seeming to pulse, or was that her own heart beating so harshly? She was reverberating, tension making everything tight, making even perception difficult to see.

Still -- there was a sound, and she could hear it; her eyes flicked to the side, tongue darting out and licking the streak of blood on her lip. "hmmph" a groan, more than a word as she pushes herself up to a sitting position, her joints creaking, the mechanical limb in her left arm twitching in an irregular way -- near to busting as cords busted out of it, gears ground to smooth, useless circles. Sankari stares at it, at the mutilation of all of that hard work, and runs her fingers over it with her right hand, her eyes sliding over toward the -- oh, the Goddess. "So you're here." she says matter-of-factly, as if the sputtering curses from before had never passed her lips; "Make sure your weapon isn't dead?" she smiles, grimly, spitting blood and bile to the side of her as another wave of dizziness forces her to keep still.

She should be happy that it wasn't danger that had come after her fall -- but instead, there were only facts, only the silence of calculation. The Goddess had come; was she closer that time? No. -- A solid weight in her mind, as her heart screams out for life. Not yet. Mutilated and bruised perhaps, but never close enough to death to lose it all in a bad gamble. Too much to live for, too much left to kill. "Help me up, then, and I'll find my way into the encampment," she pauses enough to laugh at herself. Gambling again? "To get this stupid arm fixed." she flexes the fingers of her right arm but they only spasm, not completely at her disposal. Vulnerable, for sure.

If necessary, Sankari could wield a Katana right handed; her mouth sets in grim lines.

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word count;; 670
tags;; Goddess lady
OOC;; So it ended up sucking but it wasn't lack of Kari muse .w. her voice came in loud and clear I just couldn't write it well 'cause of brain damage.

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[Moonlit]

Cymmie danced away from the vomit that was thrown up. She carefully avoided it as she hovered over the pirate captain. She waited for the woman to come around. Sankari asked a question, Cymmie answered it with a bored tone entering her voice, "We are at Stone Lake. You were carried here by the river." She now noticed the extent of the damage done to the captain's arm. It was incapable of use right now. As Kari commented on being Cymmie's weapon, Cymmie's emerald eyes flicked around. She didn't need others to hear she was the one pulling the strings. No one else knew besides the other gods and the captain, unless Sankari had told someone. "You are more than just a weapon, Sankari," Cymmie said, her voice sharpening. "You are what we are trying to save." She carefully slipped around to the other side at the command of the other woman. Avoiding the bile and gently moving up beside the smaller woman. She slipped closer and tried to grab Sankari's bruised and battered waist, gently enough not to hurt her. If she did grab it she would move into a standing position and pull the captain up with her. Cymmie knew the woman would be heavy, but also Cymmie knew her strength would be enough to help her along. As the pirate would be helping move her own weight. "We have to be careful when going into the encampment. They will be searching for you. You need to keep your hood up and not be so... you," she said it with a chuckle that was somewhat friendly. Trying diffuse the seriousness of the situation. "I think I know of a surgeon who will help you." Would he really help though? She knew that he helped wounded people no matter their status, but the Captain of the Sky Pirates was a different matter. He could get killed for just harboring the woman. And what of the S.S. Freedom. They would come searching sooner or later for their captain, they were loyal even if they were pirates. And if they found out that Sankari was in the encampment and still alive... all hell would break loose. Cymmie would have to leave her there at some point to go find the ship and inform the crew. But that left the captain in danger. Why did everything have to be so complicated? Words: 405 Muse: AWESOME Song: Stop and Stare- OneRepublic SPEAKING THOUGHTS [atrb=border,4,true] [atrb=width,500,true] [bg=teal]

[Cap'n Sankari V.]

It's all so strange -- the way the world was moving around her, the way that life seemed to surge around her, never through her, never accepting her. Was it too late for everything? Was Sankari fighting in vain for something that could never be attained? She spits in the face of fates, despite the Goddess beside her -- in spite of all the gods that gathered behind her banner: she was simply a puppet to them. The strings that lifted that damned, stupid arm was held by glowing pale fingers -- the same fingers that could steal her breath in a moment if they wished: the same one that brought death and life at the whim of a look beneath misty eyelashes. Could she take her eyes off of them?

Perhaps it was best that she was so injured -- there was an allure here, pulling at her, her soul gravitating toward a higher being: no less than the earth that cannot help but be pulled around the glorious light of the sun. She gravitated, without know, moving in the way the Goddess willed, her stony heart moved to warmth by a smile, by a look from under those delicate lashes. She was a warrior, for sure, but there was still something susceptible about the way she moved, as if water had become truly, one with the flesh of humanity. Sometimes, it was hard for Sankari to focus when the Goddess was around, other times, she couldn't stand the stench of all that magic she imagined hung around her --- did the Goddess really hold all of her soul in the palm of her hand?

One misstep, and she would take back that precious life that kept her moving. One misstep, and it was all gone to shit, because of the damned whimsy of a creature that had nothing at all to do with humanity; her eyes were stone as she looked at Cymopoleia. Better this distance, than to be sucked into her rhythm and lost for sure. Near death? Hah! Sankari lived for death. It kept her going -- all of that cold shadow gathering behind her shoulders, weighing down her arm; as it was, she merely tracked the stupidly gorgeous woman as she hauled her up like nothing into a standing position.

Blood rushed down to her toes, leaving her dizzy -- did she grab the Goddess, or did she only imagine she did? Kari shied away from the thought of physical contact between anyone, her body full of scars and metal, an abomination that even she hated. No, loathed. But it was a gift, from one she loved; with that gift, she would kill them all -- and the only way that could be done was with life, and not lingering here much longer. Stiff from bruises that discolored her pale skin, she looked like the dead truly come back -- her hair tangled and matted, two bruises deep in her eye sockets from exhaustion, hollow cheekbones, thin, lanky body -- thinner than slender could ever describe. Yet there was a keen edge to all of that fragility. Her blade and her scourge were still within reach; not that she could use it on a Goddess -- or would she want to. There was a faint smell of salt-water on the Goddess' skin that Sankari tried not to acknowledge.

Pervasive femininity began a whole new war to be fought within her body as her black rock heart sunk deeper, and deeper, as if afraid of the warm glow emanating from that mildly annoyed expression. Yet there was something a sweet about it. Stop it, she hisses inwardly, repulsed by her body's second betrayal within hours. Eyes squeezed shut, she inhaled sharply, breath sucked in between her teeth hard enough to almost whistle. "I need a mechanic, not a doctor." -- she would never go to a doctor, never. There was only one, and that one had long left this world. With a stubborn set to her jaw she grabs at her heavy arm with her opposite hand and pulls at the chain there, feeling the usual bruises ache from the constant pressure. Eventually even her bones would erode -- she doesn't have enough energy to snicker, though Kari had always found a measure of amusement in her situation. Without showing the slightest hesitation she yanks hard on the chain, unraveling the arm and letting it fall to her side, "Can you push the shoulder back in?" she asks in a monotone, feeling the waves of nausea rise with the dislocation. Absently, almost, affectionately, she wraps the chain around her right hand, feeling as if the very wind could push her down with a breath.

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word count;; 789
tags;; Goddess <3
OOC;; Mildly awkward sexual urges ~

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[Moonlit]

The grip of the woman's hands on her arm, caused Cymmie to start for a moment. Then Cymmie gently cradled Sakari against her body until the woman straightened and began to mess with her arm. As she spoke of needing a mechanic, Cymmie sighed, did Sankari no longer see herself as human? She may have mechanical parts but she still had a mind, a soul. Possibly even still a heart. Cymmie could see her humanity still there, writhing beneath her flesh, waiting to be released. "But you aren't a machine, mechanics can't put you back together. Perhaps we need both?" Cymmie nodded as she observed the woman tugging on the chains. She slowly circled Sankari until she came to the dislocated shoulder, slowly her fingers brushed along the exposed skin which stuck out sickly. Suddenly she was pushing at the shoulder blade and pulling at the top, waiting to hear the telltale pop of it snapping back into place. She froze the water that still stuck to her hand and held it over the flesh, trying to take the edge of the pain out, trying to calm the burning pulse that Kari probably felt. Cymmie leaned into the smaller woman as she rubbed her iced hand up and down the shoulder blade. She whispered in Sankari's ear,"Are you okay?" She was worried, this woman was the embodiment of everything Cymmie was trying to save. The fierce desire for freedom that humanity had, it's tragedies and love. Cymmie had long ago fallen in love with humanity. At least the humanity who stubbornly went against the dragging and binding government who tried to hold them down. The corruption that ran deep through the human kind was something that could not be eradicated as Cymmie had learned. Much corruption in many different forms existed in their veins, she just wanted to get rid of one kind, one seed of darkness. She listened to Sankari's breathing, her emerald eyes glittering in the darkening sky. The breathing of another being always set her nerves at ease. Perhaps it was because she had been alone for so long, and had only the water lapping at the shore for comfort. The breathing reminded her of that constant rhythm. The steady in and out of oxygen was much like the waves, which was pretty much the breath or heartbeat of the water. She steadily moved her hand to that rhythm, waiting for the captains affirmation that she would be okay. Words: 420 Muse: AWESOME Song: N/A SPEAKING THOUGHTS [atrb=border,4,true] [atrb=width,500,true] [bg=teal]

[Cap'n Sankari V.]

[navy]
She should have known better than to dance this duel with the Goddess; should have known that loneliness was something that could never be filled with blood and death. Even pain, this pain, that lit up her joints, set a fire deep in her gut and made her jaw clench would only be the beginning of the deeper pain -- her kindness. It snuck underneath her armor in ways that nothing else could: no insults, no curses, or loud mockery. There was no violence that could crack the mask, but innocence? but the the gentility of a cool hand on her back, trying to ease the pain? It was very near to breaking her down -- reminding her too forcefully of a woman she had always said she hated, of a woman she had erased from her heart. Damn it, Sankari growls inwardly, trying to hide the changes in her body as the chains that bound her to the her hatred began to unbind. Such a little thing, that touch on her body, that little bit of kindness, trying to soothe what should never have been soothe.

So simple, and yet it was everything to her. That coolness sunk into her bones and eased the fire, took the burning away. For that one blissful moment, Sankari was unable to think of a snarky comment to push the woman away; only delirious relief flooded her battered, bruised, and overly abused body. A tool, always, but in the Goddess' hands, perhaps it wouldn't be so bad.

It sickened her in a way, that she would react so honestly against this force of nature -- this tempest that would as soon as drown her, as heal her. Are you okay?

[/b] the whisper thrilled through her veins, made her startle forward, body clenching. Her eyes wide, looking exactly like a nineteen year old girl starved for attention, and not the able-bodied, neglectful and usually domineering Captain, Sankari turned a profile toward Cymmie. She swallowed, "Yeah," but even her voice was betraying her, a hoarse whisper, sounding like pain -- but not the kind of pain that radiated from the shoulder. No, this wound came from her heart, and no matter how she tried to carve it out, it remained stubbornly in place, connected and hurting. Loathing and hating, and craving the sustenance that all girls crave when young -- a place to belong, a person, perhaps. Her eyes flicked away. "I'm fine," -- and the woman moved forward, feeling the ground swaying under her feet but knowing if she remained under that woman's shadow any longer she would lose more than just an arm.

Swallowing thickly, Sankari coughed, spitting out blood as she held onto her shoulder, feeling the pulsing pain return -- and worse, the feeling of the arm slipping off of the bone again. Would it just continue to dislocate? The idea was horrifying.

Frantically binding herself tight with chains, Kari lifted her gaze toward the sky, sweat beading along her forehead and slipping down her temples. Exhausted, and bleeding from a gash along her collarbone, she knew that if she didn't get to where humanity was, she would simply fall over and die. "Do you know where the ship is?" she asked, turning her gaze toward Cymmie, but unable to properly meet them. Goddess or not, the woman was incredible. And horribly naive. Both of which, appealed too greatly to the Captain. [/blockquote][/size][/color]

word count;; 573
tags;; CYMMIE <3
OOC;; oh dear O.O

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[Moonlit]

The painful whisper that left the captain froze the blood that ran through Cymmie's veins. It wasn't the hurt of physical pain, of her bone slipping from it's socket. It was the hurt of something much deeper, much more painful, and scarred. Cymopoleia didn't understand though, what had she done to remind Sankari of such hurtful scars. It caused her head to tilt in confusion as the woman stepped away from her soothing touch. Cymmie could tell even though she said she was alright, Sankari was far from it. As Sankari stepped away from her, Cymmie noticed the slight slumping of her shoulder as it began to pull away from the socket again. Cymopoleia was soon beside her, twining her arm around her waist to hold her in place for a moment. Where was the ship? She slipped into the deep shadows and recesses of her mind, as she searched for the waters near the ship. She stopped as she reached a stream underneath the ship's hull, the gentle bubble of it soothed her nerves as it spoke to her the position of the ship. It was somewhere up the cliffs. Cymmie sighed and said, "It's above the waterfall in the forest. Somewhere near a stream."She glanced out of the corner of her eye at the captain, "Can you make it up there? I can help if we travel on water."She didn't really trust the captain right now, when it came to physical movement. Could she do some walking without tearing her tendons in her shoulder too much? Cymmie was worried, but really why should she be? Besides the fact that Sankari was leading the resistance, Cymmie had a somewhat rocky relationship with her. But she supposed it was her love of humanity that stopped her from allowing the woman to die and just moving onto the next leader. She gently relaxed her grip on the waist of Sankari, and just stood beside her, watching her. She didn't notice the loss of eye contact that Kari sent her way. Instead she merely turned her gaze to the sparkling water, the moon had come out above the trees and the lapping water looked as if it had diamonds on it's ripples. She felt calmed for a moment before she turned back to Kari and said, "If you want to catch it you need to choose the path, Captain." Words: 408 Muse: Good Song: N/A SPEAKING THOUGHTS [atrb=border,4,true] [atrb=width,500,true] [bg=teal]

[Chena]

Her home was not very far away from the stone lake that lay glimmering in the sunshine at days like this. But this day was somehow different from her usual days when the young girl walked on the fields that contained the herbs she had to gather for her beloved family’s sake. They were not poor and not exactly rich but the girl’s grandfather made lot of money on his books, handing out information for a price or fixing the back or a broken book, his love for books was very hard to understand to her since she was just learning to read. Her grandpa showing her letters and made her read out loud from his less advanced books, he was a harsh and sometimes impatient teacher but the girl loved him even still, what she did not love or even like at all was the letters. Twisting and changing, looking like and then becoming completely not understandable the letters floated on the pages, spelling words she had never heard or hardily would use, the girl, Chena Hearther, hated reading.


But there was a golden edge on the hard work, her Grandmother was very proud that her little girl was learning to read and would then and then give the girl some freedom to go and do what she wished. Her grandparents did not demand Chena to work on the herb field, it was a work the girl had chosen and loved. Before she had meet her brother she had been inside all the time not really having anyone to speak to and never been allowed to see the sky of the clouds. One of the other children had told the ex prisoner that the clouds were white and fluffy and sailed through the sky casting shadows over Sterhera but like all the other children she had not believed that child. Now, almost eight years had passed and the girl was still amazed by the freedom of the clouds. Chena envied her brother for being able to ride on a ship together with the clouds and the wind, she wanted to see the world from the sky and sing together with the birds but since being a pirate was a hard and horrible life, her brother did not allow her to come along.

This day, Chena’s free day, looked like it would provide nothing out of the ordinary. The sun shines on the path under her feet and the basket in her hand swayed with the movements the girl made as she walked towards the stone lake. Chena saw many police and soldiers run around at the beginning of the forest, screaming and calling out to each other. The girl had made it a habit of avoiding every man or woman with a connection to government so that she may not get her brother in trouble for speaking beside her mouth. The young woman walked through the forest to reach her favorite spot of a picnic, eating the cupcake with lemon in that her grandma had made for her. Suddenly Chena smelled a scent of iron and stopped dead in her tracks. I could not be…the scent of blood? The girl grabbed her basked harder and ran towards the scent, perhaps it was a traveler that had fallen and hurt himself. Chena ran around a tree and stopped dead in her tracks once more. Two women was standing by the river one of them bleeding hard and with a metal arm, her eyes dark blue with hate and pain, the other one was a beautiful lady with nice eyes, emerald green. The child dropped her basket and her sandwich fell out of it with a weak thump. Chena help her hands in front of her mouth to suffocate a scream, she had never seen someone so hurt before.
“Wha- what has happened?” the girl stammered.

[Cap'n Sankari V.]

There was something here, just out of reach -- a thought, a reaction, a feeling that she hadn't felt in days, in months -- or had it been years that had stretched out in blind monotony? How many months had she been bathed in blood and death without feeling, and here it was again. That emotion, that hated thought that brought faces to mind, that brought tastes to mind. Hunger ripping up her insides. Agony flaring up through her veins. Desire pulsing. Hate hurting. Everything dying, dying -- screaming out. Her soul was in agony, a blackened mess, chained to a devil she had no control over, and it was only now, when she was weakest she saw the reflection they all saw.

She saw the twisted smile, the pain of a creature that had no life left, no purpose for living -- she saw in her mind's eye the demon they all feared, the thing they all hated. Confusion made her queasy. Or was it hunger? Or desire? Suddenly, so full of life, so full of longing to be away, to escape from the heavy burden she had grabbed once without thinking -- but there was no turning back on a Goddess. There was nothing here that she could say, no words that could be spoken that would break the ties of iron that she had forged between herself and this ephemeral creature. Was it love that would bind her? Or her own hate, her own fear? The helpless one, the victim that had hid herself in the shadows, in the ice of her heart where she had died. Where her arm had been torn, and her faith torn with it.

Could she even speak? Could she even think? This dizziness made her weak, made her nostalgic, and it all tasted vile in her mouth, of iron and steel and old blood regurgitated; her eyes were full of hate, but wasn't it equal parts loneliness? Equal parts weakness? They saw strength, the abominable, indomitable will to win -- but she kept walking because she had always been afraid of looking back, of looking in the mirror. So the creature had been born, so the hunger had unfurled in her gut, lust for blood, for vengeance, a thirst that was as insatiable as desire pooled on the tongue, brought forth by delicate hands. Her eyelashes fluttered, her tongue numb (was it her own poison that made her so vulnerable to the enemy?)

Even the approach. Even the Goddess. The words garbled and lost their meaning -- she was seeing emotions only, and herself, always, always. Nothing left that but self, but that lone little girl who had been abandoned. The one who couldn't protect herself. How had she grown so twisted? How had she massacred the past without even a glance? She had desecrated herself for a lost love, and now mourned it all. Why now? Why these emotions she couldn't hold back anymore? Was she going to cry?

Jaw tightened -- hyperventilation. A panic attack that unfolded in her chest, unfurling like wicked vines, thorns of masochism adhering to the laws of sadism -- was she really all alone? Even her touch was nothing. Even her glance; Sankari's voice is cold, cold, like death. Because she is dead. She has to be. There is nothing left but death -- so she told herself, over and over, while she dreamed of their screams, while she dreamed of the blood, of the hell she had opened up within herself. She was the incarnate, the destroyer, the weapon at the Goddess' hands, but what had she done to herself to become so thoroughly drenched in sickness? Twisted, vile creature.

Sankari heaved, feeling bile rising up inside of her. What had she done to herself? What was left? She had become empty. Lost. Alone. Closing her eyes, she would dream of snow, of all that coldness blanketing around her, drowning her, killing her once and for all. Peace. Was that her goal? Or was it self-destruction? She was losing her way again. Choking, the woman spat to the side, without vanity. Blood tasted foul -- it entwined with bile and turned the earth black. Ah, she wasn't meant to be here. Her eyes shifted down; what had the Goddess said to her? Memory blanked.

The world stiffened, and it with it, can a new entrance. A new entity coming closer, and closer, her natural innocence as horrendous as her own filth. The smile was the end -- the stammering, the look in her eyes, the shout she could feel in her bones. The girl was going to cry out. The girl was going to kill them --- she she reached out, though she was breaking, though her bones were shifting forward and slipping out of the knob, dislocating with a sickening pop. She reached out -- that horrible crunching sound as the weight of all that metal went down, down; her eyes were on fire, her lips tight with scorn, with determination even as vessels popped, and more blood gushed out from the wound in her shoulder, where a welt had split apart, baring metal to the world.

Words spill forward -- but even her vocal cords had been twisted up and only a snarl emerged. A barely concealed hiss of silence as that metal hand clamped around the girl's mouth; but Sankari had no strength left, only the zeal of the desperate, and she fell, forcing the girl down with her, her eyes hard, cold, the mask rising though the woman beneath it was fighting it all. Wasn't she disgusted with herself? Yet she kept on moving, kept her hand tight on that young woman's mouth, her jaw tight. "We need to kill her." she grunts, looking at the Goddess, "Give me the blade."

Because despite her words, Kari couldn't move from the spot. Like rusted iron, her bones creaked to a halt, stiffened and immovable. Like stone, falling from the sky, readying to destroy another precious life.

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word count;; 1008
tags;; CYMMIE and CHENA <3
OOC;; my muse is back! Though this is a little ... haphazard. And also, sorry for the mild pp/gding >.<

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[Moonlit]

As Sankari stepped away, Cymmie saw her chest heave. Anxious waves of energy radiated from her small form. Cymopoleia watched the woman with concerned eyes. She only seemed to be getting worse. She spat to the side and when Cymmie saw the blood in the spit glittering in the darkness of the night, she just sighed. The woman was far from ready to be moving, perhaps Cymmie should bring the ship there. She was just about to suggest that, but then the sound footsteps came to her ears. Her head came up and she focused her eyes on a small girl who seemed completely terrified at what she had seen. Sankari started toward her, pulling her down and covering her mouth. Cymmie watched as blood leaked from the wound on her shoulder, a sigh of frustration left the goddess, really she had just popped that shoulder back in. Kari always had to go and ruin the hard work she did. Cymmie frowned when Kari whispered her words. A growl, so inhuman and much like the crash of water against the cliffs of a beach, left her chest. "No, Captain, we will not kill the girl," she stepped on the blade of the sword. "She has done nothing to deserve to die. You must learn, Sankari, to differentiate between the one's who deserve to die and the one's who don't." Cymmie didn't look at the girl though, she didn't give any sort of hope to the girl. Not with her gaze, only with her words. She focused her gaze instead upon the woman above the small, blue-haired girl. She didn't move to pull Sankari off the girl. Instead she merely stood on the blade, that low rumble of disapproval still emanated from her chest. Like the sound of waves roaring inside a chasm. Words: 310 Muse: Good Song: Secrets- One Republic SPEAKING THOUGHTS [atrb=border,4,true] [atrb=width,500,true] [bg=teal]

[Chena]

Life passes by as you draw your last breath.
The phrase echoed in the girl’s head, like a whisper in a deep cave, growing stronger and then lowers again but still with the same force as you released in with, circling like a beast on its prey. Fate is cruel, letting you go before dropping you to the hard, unfriendly ground and then repeat the game over and over until the spirit was braked beyond repair. The cold fingers of destiny bound all to the earth, returning them to the mud waiting to surround the corpse that would never be remembered by anyone other than the never-satisfied world.

Feeling the woman’s cold hands on her, pulling her down as it wanting to drown the girl in the mud, Chena looked into the woman’s eyes filled with pain and hatred. One of her arms hanged useless at her side, her other hand keeping Chena’s mouth shuttled so that the girl wouldn’t scream. The woman asked for her blade, with which she had tore apart many men’s destiny without a second thought. Blood ran, or more like flooded from a wound on the woman’s shoulder hitting the girl and drenching her in the sweet smell that haunted her dreams even now. The laboratory, the smell of the blood and the many infection creams, covering the roof and mocking the children hidden in the hands of the doctors. Masked, tall doctors with injections and covered faces, never letting the children see their faces, never answering them or listen to them.

The girl’s eyes widen, filled with the terror and the helplessness that had stayed in her eyes many years after being left to die in the desert, her mouth trying to scream but couldn’t. Fate would claim her soul, right before the girl’s eyes destiny would claim her.

“Fate in nothing but talk.”

The phrase came low, like a bleached memory that tried to tell Chena something before it faded away.
Yes, that person didn’t believe in fate or destiny. Left to die, a failed experiment, a trash being discarded as it was of no use to its owner anymore. It was simple, what you did not need you threw away, humans do that all the time and thinks nothing about it. Many of the other children had beaked and was done away with, Chena fearing the day but yet longing to sleep under the stars, resting in the cool grip of the earth, fading to nothing… Then he came.

Red hair and a strange blue animal with wings, a pair of goggles on his head, a long ponytail hanging down over his shoulder the boy and sat down beside her, talking about the weather. She had thought he was joking, playing fun with her, or perhaps he was a ghost which was sent to bring her along to the other side. She had tired of this life and had no regrets about the next, telling him to take her to the other side. The boy had looked at her with a surprised look on his face, his eyes emerald green and big,
I’m not here to kill you. It’s not like I would do that to anyone.
What are you talking about?
Reach out a hand, a simple gesture, taking about one second to do and not even hurting the arm or exhaust the muscles. So simple and yet it meant everything to the girl, the colors glowing warm and her vision going strangely dizzy as if it was water running down her chins. Touching her chin and understand where the water came from.
Tears.
Mixing with the sand, the tears felled as she look his hand and he pulled her up on her feet. That person pulled her close into an embrace, the girl cried out the sadness in her heart, screaming away her fear, throwing the past away, never to look back again.


A hand moved. Reaching up to the woman pulling her down, planning to kill her, the young child gave her hand, breaking her destiny and her fear. The woman’s blood stained the child’s body and she could feel the warmth from it.
The woman’s skin was cold and yet warm with sweat that ran down her face from the pain of moving with her wounds. Chena smiled forgetting that the woman could not see her; fate would not have control over her. Fate would be broken apart, just like Well had done for her. Life began with one step. You could die in so many ways but there is only one way to be born.