HEARTBURN — story-telling

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  • //I HAVE NO MUSE STARTING THREADS PLS EXCUSE THIS && some topics discussed in this may be offensive or upsetting for some, will put a warning at the top of each post.


    Malik had been instructed to tell a story, for the clan was trying to draw everyone in, attract new comers, and hopefully pact us together. He wasn't too interested when alerted of his job, however he wasn't one to complain. He was starting from the bottom of this clan, and he would do anything to rise to the top. He had found himself strolling through the desert, before finding an area shaded by low trees, their dying leaves slowly falling upon his ebony fur. He decided this might be a good place to start. Seating himself in the shade, he allowed his voice to rumble. "Who wants to hear a story?" He spoke, ears perked and tail wrapped neatly over his black paws. He was still contemplating which one to tell. To put them at peace, or to scare them? He decided on the later.


  • A story? Eh, why not. He didn't really like stories, but maybe Malik would make it interesting, who knew. "Me." he simply responded as he came over and took a seat. Now that he thought about it...a story was where you could focus on the story and not the one reading it. Yeah. That's what he would do.



    (c)trexgirl

  • "i could go for one...what's-it 'bout, anyhow?" her head tilted a little as she took a seat and one tufted ear was drawn forward as if to catch every bit of the explanation she hoped to receive. stories had shaped her life up until the moment she realized she had the means of writing her own. heroes and heroines alike had enchanted her view of life's path whilst special attention had been devoted to keeping an eye out for villains. speaking of which.... she had found none within the ruins so far, but later days would certainly change that.

       

  • "It's not even bed time yet," Kino chimed in, amused of Malik's duty to tell a story. He remembered when his mother told him stories, mainly of what happened that day while she collected food for them. Not the most interesting, but always got him to sleep. He knew a little bit about Malik, probably enough to know this wouldn't be the happiest tale ever told. Regardless, the shepherd further approached and sat down next to Linkle. He wasn't sure what to expect from this story, but if it was this panther telling it, he thought it'd be best to stay and see how this plays out.


    I'M ALWAYS TIRED BUT NEVER OF YOU & TAGS

    MAYBE WE'RE USED TO THIS

    king shepherd && sanguine ruins && played by mercury.

  • stories and fairy tales, they were quite adventurous things that children would favor. it had been so utterly long ago, before weight of world stole away messy laughter of youth from him at but six moons, he had tasted childhood ever fleeting upon curve of honeyed tongue. he had been a wondrous boy, perfect and darling with wide, gracious dreaming eyes and fragility to lovely form like that of a porcelain doll-


    dreaming.


    he missed it.


    it was such a lovely familiar word, one in which caused longing to flourish forth within chest like that of crimson stained roses with thorns of sharp, cruel reality- wondrous and agonizing. for he had been a child forged from fairy tales, with adoration for far off lands where giants roamed and gods with cruel humor and crueler eyes ruled with messy laughter as ambrosia dripped dropped over crystal wine glasses. and as he began to grow, to find harsh reality's avarice tinted finger tips grabbing about what colored earth's beauty to replace flowers with cruel winters. he'd become nothing more than cracked porcelain, leaking out guarded hope.


    but perhaps that wasn't completely true? for he was still idealist, painfully so, and when he closed his eyes for lashes to caress pale cheeks so endearingly he imagined a time where no war stood where battles with enemies and their blood splintered teeth ripped away at those he so cherished's flesh. he hoped for a long dead mentor's rest amongst stars, he longed for a monster's wine colored gaze. hypokrisis dreams were no longer of sugared sweet sugar plums, but they had not disappeared- they had simply become infected with the wretched staleness of reality. for no longer was there naivety in star dipped gaze, and sweet smile was not forever tainted within tragedies that so defined him.


    he comes next to kino, vulernable and raw with exhaustion of day's work even though it was but some time in late afternoon. but he still stood regal and dignified somehow, in an endearing, easy form of way. "I'm sure any story Malik tells would have given you nightmares anyways," hypokrisis returned, light and teasing as amusement warped sweet tone. and soon he was focused on the man of the hour- malik and what yarn he'd have to spin.

  • Several others had gathered only mere moments after Malik had announced himself. His emerald hues scanned over the first two, offering simple nods before landing upon Kino and Hypokrisis. A small smirk adorned his attractive features, before he scoffed. "Shut up, Kino. You'll shit yourself before I'm halfway through." He joked, voice smooth and coated in amusement. With a quick shuffle of his rear and his tail finding it's way over his large paws, he began. And oh how he had longed to share this tale.


    WARNING, CONTAINS MENTIONS OF RAPE, TORTURE, AND MURDER


    "A boy was born, birthed from a loving mother and a father who had no time. The boy adored his dear mother, for she had too given him a sister. He relied on them, for his heart was sweet and pure and made of gold. Slowly, he no longer saw his father, and no one heard a word. His mother was shattered, however the boy felt nothing, for how could he love a man who didn't return it? As months went on, however, tragedy struck. His sister was slain, attacked by a rogue and her carcass ripped to shreds. A few days after his mother vanished, no trace. The boy was broken, distraught with pain and agony for his lost ones, and that's when they started speaking to him, his demons." He hesitated a moment, eyes growing slightly darker as he continued his tell. "The weeks that went by determined who he should be, who he would become. His demons whispered secrets in his ears, taunting him, pushing him. He played it off as though he were fine, but his thoughts held death and destruction. Slowly rising through the ranks of his clan, he was known for his brutality, his sharp tongue and his cold ways. Many feared him, for he was unpredictable. Having never struck down another, the days grew slim."


    "He fell in love like many others, and for the first time since his childhood, his demons grew quiet. She was his everything, the love of his life, the only thing that kept him together. As the grew older, they grew closer. Engagement was announced at the same time he was surprised with her pregnancy. He was overjoyed, so deeply in love with her that the mere thought of their perfect family had his personality shift, for he was brighter now. Kinder. On the day of the birth, however, he could not find her. He searched high and low for his lover, before he eventually found her body, soaked in her own blood, and his young laying beside her. She had died through child-birth. A tragedy for the newborns, and a tragedy for the clan. However, something snapped inside of him. As he watched her limp body, blood still flowing out of her and soaking her forever-soft fur, his demons screamed."


    "He loved his children, but they were not enough. His demons screamed at him day in and day out, pushing him to kill. He slaughtered many, the feeling of their coppery blood soaking his mouth a drug to him. He was addicted to it. As he ripped their skin from their flesh and heard their screams, he rejoiced in it, for his demons had driven him to complete and utter insanity. After the murder of a child, he was dropped from his position, and his children disowned him. His hunger for death and destruction had over-powered him, and he did not stop there. Slaughtering hundreds, innocents, even young children. His demons wanted more, desiring the death of all those who he did not seem worthy. His mind was destroyed, shattered into pieces. His blood-stained coat stunk of copper, and the bodies he had begun to pile up were enough to know that he was never coming back. Never."


    "As the days grew darker and darker, rape, torture, and murder all what he desired, he was found. His daughter, one birthed from the love of his life, found him. At first her words were soft, and of comfort, any attempt to see her father hidden under those black eyes. But it was no use. He struck her, only for Death himself to play his favourite trick. He had done Death's bidding, performed every dark desire and delivered those to him, before he had a change of mind. As his windpipe was torn from his throat, he stared into the eyes of his daughter, and saw himself for what he really was."


    "A demon."


    Malik ended, by the end of this story his eyes grown dark with anger and spite. For this story was of his father, the man who had led his demons to him. He would not speak of who it was, for he'd rather die then be known as this man's son. Everything he had done, all the cruel acts he had inflicted upon others. All for Death. And now Death was creeping his way into Malik's mind, and nobody knew what fate awaited him.

  • A minute into the story he felt a chill racing down his spine like electricity. The unsettling words slipped into his ears and fell down his esophagus, making his stomach drop from the dense, dark story. Jesus Christ. There was no shitting of his pants, but Kino was definitely left in awe. It wasn't like he was expecting a fairy tale from the feline, but the descriptive and disturbing tale he told was quite dark. It couldn't have been simply made up. Every sentence held fine details that sounded like memories rather than imagination. It didn't bewilder Kino that something like this could slip from his cold lungs, but that he shared it with the Ruins. He couldn't quite pin down how it could've been linked to Malik, but he would be an idiot to ask. He looked about the fellow members who had listened in as well, at a loss of what to say. It didn't seem like a time for empathy, humorous commentary, or a dismissal of all that happened. He didn't want to be the first to speak as his eyes laid back on the panther, blinking a few times in small shock.


    I'M ALWAYS TIRED BUT NEVER OF YOU & TAGS

    MAYBE WE'RE USED TO THIS

    king shepherd && sanguine ruins && played by mercury.