「 BLINK┊ STORAGE 」

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    He draws in a breath and recollects himself, letting annoyance prick his skin here and there, his heart doing palpitations within his frail chest. Softvelvet finally finds the courage to approach Chicagocrimes, berry pink eyes barely able to seize her own as he comes to an stop a couple feet or so away. No one but the wintry girl knew that he were scared of her mere, towering presence. He thought her feral, harnessing an ability to turn on those who displeased her on a dime and he does notwant to be on the receiving end on whatever bitter rage she could dish out.

    — softvelvet, dark dynasty leader


    [...] Scaramouche replied with a joyful tone, already prepping himself for any assault to come. He knew her far too well these days and he knew that her fury could flare up at any second. And sure enough his predictions were made reality as she went for him. In a flash of movement he lowered the umbrella and let it take the strike whilst he sprang off to the side and away from her claws.

    "Oh there it is, babe, the famous Chica-Rage!"

    — krieger/scaramouche, ex-bhr leader


    Krieger would recognise that voice anywhere, and the scent drifting into his nose confirmed it all of course. A long, strained sigh escaped him as he lifted his head and swivelled his head round to look at the alluring female, whom happened to be his long term rival. She was the sort of lady who was hard to forget. [...] Bah! It didn't take long for that shit-eating grin to fill his face as he waited for the penny to drop, so he made sure to brace himself. What would it be this time; yelling, a punch, a bitch slap, or would he get his fur scorched off?

    — krieger/scaramouche, ex-bhr leader



    "Damn, seems like you're not fan favourite around here, buddy." came the obnoxiously sarcastic quip, amused smirk painting across Ariz's features as he heavily sat himself down off to the side as if to allow Chica to do her work while also wanting to monitor the situation. Of course, he was not there for mediation purposes, there would always be a more peaceful member of the sanctuary who would perhaps come and make sure that the stranger did not get his limbs torn clean from his smug body by the infuriated shepherd. Then again, he really doubted that anyone would actually get in her way unless they were a complete and utter fool. Hell hath no fury like an angered Chicagocrimes.

    — arizonacircle, the sanctuary


    Chica's voice is like rolling thunder, angry like that of a wrathful god displeased with its subjects and sharper than that of an serrated blade. Dangerous, dripping with nothing else but a calm anger before the storm and Survivalinstinct is brought forth on curious but equally as cautious paws. He knew the woman before him to be something of a nightmare behind a pretty face and deep below there is some kind of growing respect for this strong woman, rising like a wildfire, and Val is constantly impressed with her performance. Val has truthfully never seen a woman like her - so vicious yet there must be something else there apart from the initial venom that drips from her words. He could only wonder.

    — survivalinstinct, the sanctuary

    i’m looking back to the road that i’ve known for so long. just feel my head nod away to a familiar song. i'm burning rubber just to pass by the time, and now i wonder if it's your tale or mine. i've heard the crowd jeering, hate rearing its ugly head. writing this old story, still glory hangs by a thread. it doesn't matter how it’s told in the end. as long as i'm alive we’ll still make amends. so don’t stop running on through the night, and if you find you're lost, set your spirit a light. 'cause when my feet start movin', they’ll never stop. we’re going straight to the top! lets throw our cares to the wind, cause we’re not looking back. hold on tight, 'cause we’ll be speeding 'round on the track. just don’t let go, cause i know we’ll be up all night dreaming, believing, and dashing in the blink of an eye! dreaming, believing, and dashing in the blink of an eye! "a blink of an eye!"

    the memories of own death alludes her. oh she recalls life partially, herself living somewhat. still the true blue details they stay but a finger's touch away, just out of reach, the edges of what they spill tingling within the workings of a ruinous mind. phantom remembers almost nothing, nothing save the bare flickers, flickerings of something. distorted and faded clips, a movie ancient and greying; the sweeping of snow topped mountains, the crying of hawks, nightmare eyes of raven masked mother, the bite within the cold, and brother dearest with his ideas of living in big city chicago sharp, sharp and lively upon tongue. so yes, life is something faintly in the back of mind but own death, own demise? nothing save the pain, tearing, piercing below gut and the coil, broiling of blood metallic and taunting, taunting in nostrils. she was dying, she was deaddead, she is dead, died so very, very long ago yet beast still stands, still walks like any other.


    has anyone ever thought to ask why? how?


    spite.

    it curled about her all python like as red tinted vision bubbled, swelled under seeping midnight dreary set deep in the lush of eyelids. she refused devil's walk, she turned away from death's quivering hand, ran from reaper reaching, reaching for little soul. for no, no, for she was not done here yet. not even close.


    vindication.

    a fury that rippled, rippled through tiny vessel, broken doll. it left her hungering, hellbent, a vengeful beast of curling fire and withering brimstone. how dare the world turn back on she like that, and so willingly? after everything, the struggle, the climb for life so little, so new, it thought, it thinks it could, it can, just throw her away? it can think again.


    and ambition.

    she still has so much to do, to say, it can't end here, it could not. not now when road is yet to be paved before her, and ghostly paws they struck the soil for she told herself she will make a pathway no one else dares to. she has too, an ice queen, a dead girl, all bloody knuckles and gnashing teeth with crumbling ruins building, building into formidable empire yet a third time under own catalyst hands, pinching fingers. her future is her own, the key to mortality long since lost, but her kingdom just rising.


    me, after writing a long post: does this make sense?? does it flow, is it easy to read?? can people understand the words that have been typed out or is this a bunch of garbage they have to sift through.

    me: ?? i can't read i'm dumb and don't have any eyes

    the new!! sonic issue came out yesterday and?? it's so good?? bless, it's got two of my favorite artists. i'm probably going to post some of my favorite pages in here avshs because i'm that kid.

    issue 11 pages & spoilers

    to do

    - tarot, clover, taloo & bravos joining threads

    - private threads ( dena, jabal )

    - uhhh wt + ooc prompt. what kind of animal should chica find? a bunny??

    NO WAIT A HUMAN AU WHERE SHE FINDS A BOX OF KITTENS OR PUPPIES AND SHE JUST STORMS INTO CAMP ONE RAINY DAY "we're keeping them"

    I REALLY WANNA MAKE THE THREAD WHERE SONIC HECKING,, CRASHES INTO CCS LAKE BUT ? ??

    chica: gay

    apple: ace

    alice: g ay

    sonic: ace

    angel: gay

    father: ace

    hmm i'm starting to see a pattern here

    blind, he's blind.

    this path is one forged of vengeance, she knows that, knows it truer than the the back of own bloody knuckled hand. as creature who has danced with this igniting, restless fury her riveting lead, her plunge into the darkness of the stage, she knows it better than most. it's a hungering, a thirsting, creature shackled within steel chains that demands to be freed and it can overwhelm all, any. like flames it will devour a soul, any poor hurting soul who dares to step too close with licking chops and blood splashed teeth it invites them in greedily. it ruins a person, no matter how pure, no matter how righteous, tears within them from the inside out. it leaves them rotting, stinking, destroyed until they don't know anything but, until they don't know anything less. it's sunk its claws and teeth into her many times over, dead girl ruined, ruined and rotten and cold, and now?


    now it has him in a choke hold.


    can he not see, can he not see the teeth poised at his throat? can he not hear past the whispering of the self righteousness, look beyond what he wants and thinks is true, come to fact that it is actually not so? she wants to tell him so badly but- where is the little boy she knows? the one she has had sobbing and heaving at feet, crying with desperation please, please bring my mommy back to me. until own glacier heart boiled and simmered into something tender and soft. the one she raised ashen tinted wing to, held tightly against the hug of rib cage. the one who she promises praise and loved upon, a mother when many dared not be.


    then this supposed boy, this very creature she nurtured stands accusing, accusing her of secrets. yet little man never told her of the farm struck down so savagely by end game meteorite. he never told of deathstroke as the one who fathered him, violent savage that has left woman shaking, shaking with thinning horror at self once upon a time ago. he never told of the slaughtering of cartellian leaders, ally clan, nor given reason for doing so. he never told her of his joining the exiles, the smell oh so thick and repulsive in her nostrils.


    and she asks herself, she has asked this; is this really him? is this her darius, the little baby boy with troubled heart but eyes so bright, starshine bright? is this her breakout, the man who so boldly tugged forth the tatters and ruins of many, many people and knitted them all together into a kinship, a family to proudly serve beside and call upon? is this her son, son whom she promises to love to the moon and back, to nurture and care for, to love and to hold? the search is careful, careful, but the answer is blunt, harsh.


    no.


    no.


    no.


    she knows not the man standing afore her. what is this beast, creature with face of son morphed so devishly and pitifully, fury withheld in the licking of flames, the twang of restless steel? who knows, who knows? not her, not chicago. the realization leaves her cold.


    cold, colder than the great frost whipping past her in form of sleety winds, chillier than the yawning glacier rock. "i can't do that." steadying breath, chicagocrimes pushes forward with steely determination, features hard, narrowed upon other and she is daring, daring and bold in slow pursuit, snow crunching underfoot. she doesn't know him, doesn't recognize this fury scorched man, yet still half of a plea touches full lips. even she knows that a fight doesn't have to happen today. "look, krieger ain't th' guy yer lookin' fer, it's not like he wanted ta do . . . if ya just listen-" one last attempt, one more shot at reaching reason but then after? after she has no choice. for she will not stay back as he tears home asunder. she will not stand by as he searches for a man who doesn't even live here, targets instead the puppet, the doll forced under his hand and made to do another's bidding without consent, will, or want, no.


    she will not let him bring harm to her people.


    should i?? change her name back to purehell or keep it as creamedhoney ahshsj h onestly my use goes back and forth so much i don't even know anymore,, lmao

    speaking of characters that i will never have time for,, here's old fathertime notes that i will probably have to change / alter due to the rebuild

    — seal point birman w four dark blue eyes [ref, done by hestia]

    — physical manifestation of chronophobia, the fear of time/passing time/death/ect

    — the Shapeshifter™; can manipulate parts of their body, but cant turn into another animal altogether. (ie, when locked in battle father favors manipulating their muzzle to that of an alligator gar's snout)

    — clairvoyant; the closer they are to someone, the more of their future they can see.

    — fathertime is a pen name; nobody aside from mothernature knows their real name.

    — using molecule manipulation, they can speed up/reverse a persons age, making a young child an elder and vice versa; usually uses this power to turn opponents into ash (with permission, of course)

    — demiboy / masculine nonbinary

    — former vice-deputy/medic of the sanctuary (was around during betrayals reign in april)

    — Plague Doctor™: reanimates the dead (zombies) to do their bidding


    MOTHERNATURE (OLD NOTES/PRE-REVAMP)

    - tabby cat-spider hybrid originally

    - incarnation of hylophobia, fear of nature / life / etc.

    - contract demon that took half of their dealer's life span / soul / etc when deal was met.

    - also was the head of the underground, a trafficking system where children were slaughtered and eaten for no other reason than the fact that a phobia thrives on fear and such.

    - was very, very prejudiced against non-phobias.

    - HELLA FAKE!! came off as overly sweet and cowardly and emotional, actually overtly inconsiderate regarding the needs of others, manipulative, and controlling as all hell.


    ✧°. formerly penelope dreadful, daughter of a radicalclan leader and deputy, before her fears consumed her and turned her into what she is today.

    ✧°. a forest spirit, nymph, that can be summoned to do one's bidding at the cost of them sharing parts of their soul / cutting half of their life with her so she can lengthen her own / avoid death.

    ✧°. a controlling and domineering shithead in every single situation, watch out.

    ^ more old notes