THE PUREST EXPRESSION OF GRIEF | carving bones

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  • So Ver was gone. Sangria had offered to take Cherrywine to the Veil whenever she wanted, but that was not the same as having Ver in her home. Cherrywine was used to clinging to her mother's leg, asking to be carried around, muttering to her about whatever questions she had and always getting an answer. While Cherrywine loved Nadine, Ver was always out and about with her; Nadine sometimes had to go do other important stuff that just didn't involve her. Now that steady presence was gone, and she was furious. Jace had wanted Ver gone. Some of the ruiners had disliked her. She had been driven out, really. Cherrywine had tried to ask her to stay, but it hadn't worked. She guessed that was what happened when one didn't feel welcome anymore. Cherrywine hadn't wanted to leave with her. The Sanguine Ruins, even if it was filled with awful, disloyal fools who couldn't understand how smart her mother was... it was her home. She had been born and raised in it. She was certainly not going to live in a place called Shadow Veil. That sounded dark and nasty, a perfect breeding ground for her joints to ache and her eyes to hurt in the darkness.


    She knew she could still make the decision on whether or not to dual-alliance. But she also knew that Brandy and Arya (even if she wasn't much comfort) were going to stay, and she knew that Kirsch would stay wherever she did. If Nadine had gone as well, Cherrywine would have sucked it up and gone to that gloomy place, but if one mother and most of their family was staying in the Sanguine Ruins, she felt compelled to stay. Plus, she hadn't even completed her Red Trial yet! She couldn't let Hebe and the Red God down. The priestess had told her to make creative little offerings, so she would. She would pour her tiny, strange little heart into that activity and hope that all thoughts of her own indecisiveness and Jace's stupid face would fall out of her head and shatter on the ground, like glass. Like the bones she was carving would, if she threw them hard enough against a pyramid.


    Hebe had given her many ideas for what to make as offerings, and Cherrywine was eager to create them. She had collected a few bones, some delicate and small as the ones in her own body, some almost the length of her. She wanted to carve them. That was where things turned difficult. She flexed her shaking paws, hoping that claws would magically appear, but they didn't. How she cursed her genetics for giving her such a weak body. She could try to carve with her teeth, but that would be awkward and she wouldn't be able to look at what she was doing. So she borrowed a dagger from an older clanmate, and gripped it between her teeth. Some of her clanmates might have been able to hold it with their paws, but hers were trembling too badly. They always trembled, but the shivering was worse the past few days.


    So she held the dagger in her mouth, gingerly, and slowly carved a design into one of the smaller bones. It was loose and sweeping and strange, the cuts in the bone uneven and varying widths. But when she dropped the dagger to look at her handiwork, she was proud. It was of the Nile, with long lines signifying the rush of the tainted water. The little cuts in the bone that became blobby were figures, perhaps merely admiring the river, perhaps about to be sacrificed. Cherrywine was sure that the Red God would like it, but she still had more bones to get through. She could not only make one offering, after all, so she rolled the bone away from herself and gripped the dagger again.


    THE WAY SHE SHOWS ME I'M HERS AND SHE'S MINE

    OPEN HAND OR CLOSED FIST WOULD BE FINE

    THE BLOOD IS RARE AND SWEET AS CHERRY WINE

    roleplayed by tropics | daughter of ver and nadine | first tier of sanguine ruins

  • oh, yes, he was sure the red god would absolutely love the little bone in her paws, the picture shaky and questionable as he stared with pitch black eyes at it from over her shoulder. he was sure hebe would claim the red god would love it. he had no say in the matter, the son of a priestess and he didn't know anything. he knew he should listen to his mother, to her mad telepathic ramblings about the god she worshipped so selflessly. but he could never quite bring himself to care, to bat an eye as she went on and on about him and his unearthly power. perhaps it was wrong that the son of the priestess didn't know anything about the red god, but he knew there would be all the time in the world to learn. he was going to become a priest one way or another, whether he wanted it or not.


    eyes like black fire narrowed, silently examining the objectively bad blood nile that was carved into the bone. "what is it?" finally the child of hell's voice broke out, monotonous and dreary as he glanced down at the fragile looking hybrid princess.

    cast me away

    my shadow's cold

    into the barrens

    where i will grow old

    alaksiej — sanguine ruins — member — storage

  • TURNING BACK TO MY SPECIAL PLACE

    — As far as Speedy was concerned, Hebe was a lost cause in terms of anti-religious reasoning. Maybe one day she'd have a psychotic break with reality, or perhaps it had already happened. Unwittingly, the hyena was en route to his own acute psychosis, so perhaps the race was on. This race would not reward the winner, however. Stepping up toward the youngsters, Speedy wonders what he's even doing here. Cherry was dealing with her bones, carving them into whatever shape was most tolerable for the Red God's vision. Siej was just being himself, probably preparing to laugh at the poor kid's artwork. Nothing he could say would be anything he wanted to say, so Speedfreak decided to pull an Elian this time, drifting off a few yards away where he drops himself to the ground, just watching. He'd spend his time contemplating more interesting conundrums, artificially designing solutions within his pseudo-mechanical brain. It was better than sitting inside his pyramid, letting the seconds of his life tumble to the ground. At least out here he could let the seconds fall cleanly into the sand below him.



    "speaks in #a3cbd5"

    GIVING UP ALL THE FEARS WE SHARE

  • The sight of Cherrywine was one that surprised the small third tier, pale red optics spotting the harmless hyrbid as she entered camp, returning from a hunting patrol. She watched her for a moment, pondering what her reasons for staying in the Ruins might be. There'd be nobody for her to whine to twenty-four-seven, nobody to give her piggyback eyes with just a single pleading glance. Arya wondered if her younger sibling realized this fact, and if when she did, she would make her departure for the Whispering Pines. A small huff sounded from her as she debated going to say hello. She was never the sister figure that Sangria would be, never the oh-so-kind and reassuring figure that her family probably wanted. Though this fact burdened her mind from time to time, the Tormenta-Million didn't let it affect her actions or her work, instead repressing it like every other emotion she'd ever had.


    Hebe had given Cherrywine a Red Trial, she knew this. So with another short huff she compelled herself to gravitate towards her weakling younger sibling, coming to a halt next to Speedy and observing her creation quietly. Since Alaksiej had asked the question burdening her mind, the small savannah sat back on her haunches and simply watched.

    arya.png

    i'll pretend i don't care

    tormenta-million - sanguine ruins - third tier - tags - ic opinions

    but it keeps me up at night

  • calloway would watch from a distance as cherrywine whittled the bone down into what she perceived to be the nile river. it had a few collagenous admirers overlooking the body of water from the dunes above. calloway smiled. it was usually the minor details in art that brought a picture to life, and she couldn't help but admire the handiwork and discipline of the child's jaw as she lovingly crafted the scene, which was now frozen in time. calloway had a certain soft spot for art. life was endlessly moving down the rivers of time, but art gave you a reason to stop and think. it was cathartic, in a way, for the world to be quiet for a just second. calloway had wondered herself if she could pursue a hobby in art, since she was so fond of it, but insecurity and fear of judgement would always win in the ensuing struggle to decide. thus she would keep her passions somewhat muted, except for at times where it felt safe to express. such as now, since it was appropriate. besides, calloway felt bad for cherrywine. it was a rare feeling to experience coming from the stoic old lady, but the serval hybrid had just had her entire life uprooted, and lost one of her parental figures. there was no doubt in the third tiers mind that she was hosting all sorts of poisonous thoughts, perhaps art was her way of coping? "looks cool," calloway would say, blue eyes meeting the contrasting red gaze of cherrywine. she was treading a fine line between complimenting the kid, and making sure her tone didn't stray into pitiful territory. personally, calloway hated feeling like a charity case, and she was sure cherrywine shared the same sentiment.

    ddol9h1-adf677c9-1b06-4062-9273-b475d34e0f81.png?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI1NiJ9.eyJzdWIiOiJ1cm46YXBwOjdlMGQxODg5ODIyNjQzNzNhNWYwZDQxNWVhMGQyNmUwIiwiaXNzIjoidXJuOmFwcDo3ZTBkMTg4OTgyMjY0MzczYTVmMGQ0MTVlYTBkMjZlMCIsIm9iaiI6W1t7InBhdGgiOiJcL2ZcLzg4YTEwODVlLTQ2Y2UtNDgyZS04NzdiLTYwNDgwOTg5MDJhY1wvZGRvbDloMS1hZGY2NzdjOS0xYjA2LTQwNjItOTI3My1iNDc1ZDM0ZTBmODEucG5nIn1dXSwiYXVkIjpbInVybjpzZXJ2aWNlOmZpbGUuZG93bmxvYWQiXX0.5sYIOuXESZRQIG225R4NsudBgMivWHUz6zBFNl95-O4


    Oh, they gotta bury me,

    bury me face down

    domestic cat + the sanguine ruins + old + bio  + penned by phyllias

  • Cherrywine's head snapped up when Alaksiej asked his question. She had heard his approach, tracked it with her ears and the occasional flicker of her eyes, but she had not wanted her focus to waver from the new bone that she was beginning unless there was something of real importance. A question was of real importance; she knew from experience. For a brief moment, she was offended. Did he not understand that it was the Nile? Although the carved bits were appropriately shaky, she thought she had done a decent job on it. But perhaps he just did not understand what the carved bone was. She couldn't imagine why Alaksiej wouldn't think it was an offering, since he was the son of Hebe, but perhaps he was not as involved with the Red Trials as she thought an offspring of Hebe's would be. He was young, after all, although she was young, too, and was already beginning her work.


    Speedfreak and Arya had dropped themselves down a few paces away and, inwardly, she felt the glow of somebody who craved attention and had gotten it. They didn't speak, but she knew they were watching her. She did not like Speedfreak or Arya very much, but if they wanted to watch her careful process, if they wanted to see how dedicated she was to Hebe and the Red God, she would not complain. She took a moment to brush a piece of bone dust off of the tiny Red Nile she had created, and dropped the dagger from her mouth. "Well, it's an offering for, like, an altar, and this one's got the Nile on it. See?" She traced a paw along the carved river, feeling the grit of the bone against the pads of her paws. She wished that she could take out claws and drag them along, easily adding more depth to her creation, but she could not and tucked her paw away back on her current bone.


    Calloway's approach did more to brighten Cherrywine than any of her three other clanmates. She liked the old woman, because she was funky and elderly and out of the mainstream. Everyone in the clan seemed to like Calloway, but Calloway seemed to like Cherrywine, too. She didn't think that went for everyone. "Thanks." She appreciated the compliment, of course, but she did not miss the third tier's lack of obvious pity for her. Cherrywine had sat with her at the meeting where Nadine announced that Ver was officially gone, and she was sure that Calloway had caught on to her stormy feelings about the matter. She did not need pity, though, and Calloway knew that. She turned the other bone around in her paws. "I'm not sure what I'm going to put on this one. I was thinking pyramids, or maybe just some sand dunes." She looked from one of her clanmates to the next, careful to make it clear that it was open for input.


    THE WAY SHE SHOWS ME I'M HERS AND SHE'S MINE

    OPEN HAND OR CLOSED FIST WOULD BE FINE

    THE BLOOD IS RARE AND SWEET AS CHERRY WINE

    roleplayed by tropics | daughter of ver and nadine | first tier of sanguine ruins

  • so she expected that because he was hebe's son he should know things about the red trials? well, she wasn't wrong. he should know. he definitely should've paid more attention during hebe's lessons on the red god. he should be doing a lot of things. but the red god was so fucking boring. he didn't understand how anyone could be devoted to someone or something that may or may not exist.


    and yes, it may have taken him a hot moment to figure out what he was looking at, but after a long silent moment of deliberation he had finally figured out it was the nile. he wasn't exactly the best at putting pictures together, finding it slightly difficult to find images in shapes and even drawings, his own, however rare, included. but upon seeing it in the bone, along with her helpful explanation of what it was, he could see it. "..neat." maybe it sounded monotonous and disingenuous but he meant it.


    "i think that pyramids would look good," he offered with a shrug, hoping his useless suggestion helped. it was her red trial in the end though, he wouldn't try to influence her decisions to much. if she even listened to him that was.

    cast me away

    my shadow's cold

    into the barrens

    where i will grow old

    alaksiej — sanguine ruins — member — storage

  • watching cherrywine brighten up at the compliment would stump calloway for a few milliseconds. the young serval hybrid reminded her of her children now past, and that disturbed her very deeply. she could feel all the trauma she had kept buried in the deep recess of her mind, being shaken and brought back to the surface by the child's mere presence. although, calloway was well-practiced in the art of sweeping things under the rug instead of confronting her problems, and this brief life crisis would only represent itself as a second-long delay in her response. calloway offered a smile, though perhaps it was a little bit tighter than usual, and not very convincing since she didn't smile a lot. "i agree with alaksiej; pyramids are cooler," they had a more dynamic shape than the rolling dunes, and were much more interesting that way. dunes were just dunes, and she saw them everyday when she went for her walks. the pyramids, however, were a sight to behold as well as a notable landmark that served as a cool, contrasting centerpiece to the surrounding desert. calloway knew that delving deep into these thoughts was just her brain's way of providing itself an emergency distraction, but she would roll with it anyways.

    ddol9h1-adf677c9-1b06-4062-9273-b475d34e0f81.png?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI1NiJ9.eyJzdWIiOiJ1cm46YXBwOjdlMGQxODg5ODIyNjQzNzNhNWYwZDQxNWVhMGQyNmUwIiwiaXNzIjoidXJuOmFwcDo3ZTBkMTg4OTgyMjY0MzczYTVmMGQ0MTVlYTBkMjZlMCIsIm9iaiI6W1t7InBhdGgiOiJcL2ZcLzg4YTEwODVlLTQ2Y2UtNDgyZS04NzdiLTYwNDgwOTg5MDJhY1wvZGRvbDloMS1hZGY2NzdjOS0xYjA2LTQwNjItOTI3My1iNDc1ZDM0ZTBmODEucG5nIn1dXSwiYXVkIjpbInVybjpzZXJ2aWNlOmZpbGUuZG93bmxvYWQiXX0.5sYIOuXESZRQIG225R4NsudBgMivWHUz6zBFNl95-O4


    Oh, they gotta bury me,

    bury me face down

    domestic cat + the sanguine ruins + old + bio  + penned by phyllias