Posts by testeeoo

it was a well known secret that antigone adored jesting with others, but stoic creatures such as this were particularly his favorite. they were the types who grunted in protest as eyes went alight with half-thought out threats of murder. it just made things more fun, in the prince's oh so humble opinion. "Very well, groom," antigone obliged with a well meaning bow before standing with utmost perfect posture once more. a lot of things could be said about the ivory creature, but his mannerism were always of the grandest and politest most proper form- save the words he spoke.

the elder made a point to scrunch his nose towards whatever elixir had been formed inside the bucket, as if he were untrusting of it's content. antigone, of course, had no idea why feliks wouldn't trust such a darling persona- it was kind of insulting really. "Put the claws away, it's going to help get rid of your dye job," antigone explained, seeming more down the earth in his tone than previously as he'd spoken with grand gusto. "I'm going to have to rub it on then you should be able to go to the nearest water source and wash away the paint," contend the once-prince. but then there was a suggestive form of smile, "Thank you can handle that?"

･ﾟ✦ —— facts

— tends to keep to himself, overthinks and is wrapped within his own thoughts, many of his clanmates find him to be aloof

— extremely genuine, never lies and every thought or emotion he has is worn on his face.

— has a demon's intuition and a mortal heart

— often appears exhausted due to illness, but has learned endurance though travels.

— has issues with depending on others as he has been self-reliant on everything, even his medical studies, since three moons old.

— due to being attacked in his sleep and badly beaten by an assassin, hypokrisis scarcely manages a full night's rest. he is an utmost light sleeper and tends to awaken various times throughout the night before going back to sleep out of paranoia.

— scarcely reacts when others scream at him as hypokrisis has become numb to it after being violently yelled at with insults and cruelty by a variety of people including his closest friend

— due to the extreme trauma of being nearly murdered by an assassin and then tortured mentally and physical by his own brother, hypokrisis has began to contract ptsd and possibly even panic disorder.

･ﾟ✦ —— misc.

— character board

— HIDE YOUR EYES DARLING — hypokrisis' studies

— tarot card is the moon, which represents intuition, dreams and the unconscious

— lovely features, extremely adngrynous is often mistaken for female

shut up.

antigone solely gave a sickly-sweet smile, one which suited his features quite wonderfully. then there was the claws remark- ah yes, the youth born of lavender fields and ivory king's thrones was one who'd been educated on many matters which seemed mute and different animal's physiology was one of them. it was awfully boring, those classes had been, and he'd much rather been focused on some fairy tale and it seemed they were utterly useless too. none the less, despite felik's constant venom spewed words, do to the desperation of the situation the wolf lye upon the ground. translation in the very twisted delusion of antigone's mind; he'd won.

"You like it rough then?," antigone teased, tone suggestive despite himself. he began to go to work, putting a paw in the goo, and making an awful face at the gross concoction, before working it onto felik's fur. he was quite gentle in touch, having never had an opportunity to cause catalysts to form upon pale paws nor a need to raise his claws in cruelty. antigone did stop for a moment when the other growled, perplexed before continuing onwards. "I promise it won't," antigone humored, "Trust me, I value my life and if it hasn't become very obvious too you I am definitely not a fighter." feliks could rip him to shreds, and antigone would die quite easily. "Forgive my manners, I haven't even asked you your name- I'm Antigone, Antigone Targaryen" the prince intruded with graveness, make an empahsis on the syllables. an-tig-uh-knee- so many called him anti-gone and he did not appreciate the butchering go the name.

antigone waited with a grand expression overtaking porcelain features, hues of lilac dancing like that of fields of lavender playfully tousled by the breeze. it didn't take the most observant creature to note the difference between the royal and those in which surrounded him; for antigone was a creature of soft, dignified nature, untouched by the horrors of cruel reality aside from the wound which spliced his neck. while those of the cartel were plauged by a darkness in which had came from the grit of unkind lives, leaving agony lining their gazes. so it was easy to say antigone stood out quite a deal.

after a group of worthy enough numbers for his talents formed, antigone nodded briskly. "This is the tale of horrifying creature called the green god who lurks within the woods," antigone white optics glancing between the gathered few. "He awakens every hundred years, consuming the lost souls who dared to enter his domain, and then he returns to his slumber once he is satisfied." So went the tale, antigone was careful to cause his tone to dip and change alongside expressions as he spoke; face shifting from solemn to saddened with grand showmen ship. "An assassin, however, of great beauty, despite paling in comparison to xael and this other lovely young lady," antigone noted, offering both a sickly sweet smile and a gracious wink, Who held great nerve and foolish ideals believed that if she relied on a certain path, then she wouldn't encounter the green god. Perhaps the latter is attracted to fear, because before the assassin could camp safely, the green god rushed at her, antlers lowered, black eyes wild and an unholy roar emitting from his mouth. The assassin attempted to shoot at him with a bow but it didn't faze the massive creature, and before he could escape — as she always did — the antler managed to skim his side, leaving his flesh exposed and causing thorns to protrude from the wound." antigone jumped forward and back, raring as if he were the very green god within the twisted tail.

Her brows furrowed; "The assassin managed to escape the green god, but she wasn't safe from him, per se. Her presence was all within the woods, and the assassin's every move would be tracked. Leaving a trail of blood unbeknownst to her, the assassin camouflaged himself against the flora and waited as the green god approached. Regal and like a ghost against the greenery, the god peered at the assassin in the foliage and ultimately left. The assassin stirred, but the sudden action made her flesh burn with pain, and he emitted a sound ... something that the god heard. A period of eerie silence fell upon her, and once she thought she was truly safe, the god sprung upon her, hooves crushing him within the soil, another soul belonging to him." antigione allowed for a grand silence to set the dramatic scene, "And to this day the green god lurks within some unchanted woods where flora whiper within his long-lorned ears, awaiting for another to join him in his agony."

it was with utmost promptness the creature of porcelain form took note of feliks' obvious dismay. he could feel the other's muscles tensing beneath rugged fur as an expression of utter dismay which seemingly promised swift death within it's likelihood, crossed feliks' gruff features. antigone made a note of the mental sort on not to go so far with casual flirting around the elder from now on, or at least until they became better acquainted, as he decided to stick with the basic "hello handsomes" for the time being. did he feel guilty for making feliks feel utter dismay? not in the least. antigone, however, had been groomed since birth to read others and make sure they found fondness in them as he became adept at modifying his persona to other's likings; it was more so a habit than anything. or that's what he liked to believe.

at the extra paw comment, antigone couldn't help but offer a laugh; the form of infectious warmth which filled a room in pleasantry. he had to give credit where credit was due, and such a joke was quite realistically golden. however, at the action of straining his throat, antigone winced. "Unfortunately so," antigone began, tone light and filled with a faker form of playful nature as if he were masking another emotion beneath it when it came to the matter of his kin, "But the extra paw coming from the stomach would be more so my darling brother's lucerys' turf." he recalled the now crown prince had constantly believed himself above antigone and his slew of half-siblings simply due to the fact lucerys was the child of tsubodai and sweetophilia targaryen while the rest were the offspring of bastard origins. but more often than not, no one spoke about the fact lucerys' aforementioned parents were siblings aside from antigone and now it would seem lucerys had followed in his adoring parents paw steps.

family names. antigone targaryen had learned to bestow pride in his steps due to his surname, one which was filled to the brim with history of blood and honor- more so former than the later. but even now the youth with lavender hues could see it was rather stupid a thing to be fond of, a simple family name. but in the westeros it had been his lineage, his royal right. now, now he kept it out of spite. he knew his father would be swift to ride antigone of alliances to the targaryen family, but the king could control whether antigone introduced himself as such or if he made his children carry it; and such power was a bitter spit in the face, a petty action antigone rather enjoyed.

then there was the question of why he was here. "It wasn't an option on where I wanted to go, but rather who I stumbled across first- given the situation," choices could be easily taken away under such circumstances. and antigone found it to be poetically fitting he'd end up upon the border of a clan the westeros absoultey despised. why was he bleeding- that was the other inquiry. "It's a family secret," assigning explained rather saucily, "But I'm the type who enjoys spilling secrets- depending on the time and circumstance of course. I'm one of the perhaps hundreds of children of king tsubodai, and apparently one of my siblings wished to cull the heard of compeition for next in line." antigone had been exaggerating with the "hundreds" but it truly seemed like it, given his king father's whoring habit. not that antigone was any better, he simply knew what caused babies. perhaps he was smarter than his ever high and mighty father. "But they hired a discount assassin," antigone motioned at his only half-cut neck before he offered another sickly smile lined in some form of bitterness. "I'll tell you another trade secret amongst us royals, for all the wealth they acquired they never spend it luxouisly save on themselves."

antigone was openly hateful, despising those who'd hurt him and never forgiving the aforemtnioned soles. it was a wretched, spoiled habit, but he was a wretched, spoiled, dethroned prince. "I never had a chance at taking the throne so i'm not sure why someone did this, but i digress," antigone continued, rubbing against felik's fur, "And what brings you to the cartel, Feliks? Something tells me you weren't born here.

antigone was starving.

the former royal had resided within the cartel for perhaps a week now and had yet to eat a proper meal. why, one may inquire would a creature of practically grown age allow himself to starve? his wound could be to blame, for the deep cut within the ivory being's neck was indeed rather painful, bleeding at the slightest strain of movement, but it wasn't quite that simple. for antigone had been an utterly spoiled prince. never once in his lifetime had he needed to fend for himself and thus he'd never learned the useful, utter required skill of hunting. antigone knew food had come to him upon a silver plater with a chief wearing a smile of fake proportion three times a day, but knew not where it originated and it would seem now this fact had came to haunt him.

the prince formed from ivory king's thrones and fields of lavender sat in the middle of camp, looking paler than his usual porcelain color with an utter grief shining within usually playful hues. he was drained, starving, ad all from his own stupidity. "I'm so hungry I might die," antigone decided, voicing his opinion allowed for the passerbyer to hear. an exaggeration, perhaps, but antigone targaryen lived for exaggerations.

antigone would be, quite frankly, lying if he said he hadn't glistened with hope upon feliks' arrival towards the youth, this was swiftly replaced by a frown of utter disappointment upon the first words feliks spoke. but then there was a word- hunt. sudden realization seemed to overtake features of finely carved porcliene at the revelation- oh, that's right. one had to hunt in order to prevent starvation. well didn't that just cause a new set of problems in itself? antigone was trying to contemplate over whether he could con another into hunting for him or actually put in the effort himself when feliks spoke again.

"Come now, feliks dear you know the answer to that question," antigone returned, smooth as you please as hues of lilac flickered with lightness in his teasing. "And it would seem where ever you came from apparently didn't teach you skills up to par either," the youth noted, teasing bordering upon a smirk himself. but eyes became desperate at noting disturbia's kill in which had been dropped at feliks' feet as he looked between the prey and to feliks with utter longing as well as the elder's daughter. "May I?," he inquired in the utmost sickly sweet tone and the fluttering of pale eyelashes against porcelain skin.

antigone, on the other hand, was a creature in which thrived upon the term social. for he had been born amongst ivory balls rooms lined with amber where crystal chadeliers danced alongside blue blood nobles who held their heads far too high and the lady women in which became flustered a lovely at the slightest breathless whisper of empty love within their ears. he had even been, as a matter of fact, the sole targaryen which was supposed to gain adoration from his family's loyal kingdom as he'd been groomed as such, facts in which bled through within antigone's rather eccentric personality.

the creature of ivory king's thrones and lavender fields swaying in the wind was usually one who fell asleep upon sunsets' call, but the deep gash within his neck was one such wound that did not allow for restful slumber. and thus antigone had found himself wandering about the unfamiliar land of his new home with an expression of utter boredom echoing across porcelain features when familiar words called out to the youth like a lullaby as a smile of the sweetest proportion upturned thin lips. "Good evening- or rather should I give thanks for allowing you to cause my evening to become pleasurable," antigone spoke with grand gusto despite exhaustion lining lilac eyes and offered the other a wink. was he flittering? yes, yes he was. "I'm Antigone Targrayen, it's an honor to meet you sir..." he would allow for inny to introduced himself.

it was during mornings such as this, when soft beams of fresh sunlight filtered between green branches, that the young prince tended to go missing- or, as he liked to put it, exploring- from those guards and maids views. antigone entertained himself within the court yard, he often found himself occupying the company of brilliant lilacs upon sprigs and growing vines amongst ancient trees more so than people, not as if he disliked others as that was far from the case as anyone who had even spoken with the youth for a moment would digress, but just the fact he found it so utterly peaceful when amongst the presence of living things who didn't speak.

antigone targaryen was an oddity amongst his various siblings of half-nature in the matter of appearance, for he lacked bronze skin and locks of endless nights that so many trademarked. the younger of this grand brood was one who had inherited his striking physical appearance from that of the paternal grandmother he'd never cared to think of inquiring about. he held skin of porcelain with unruly hair of the same ivory throned coloration alongside hues of such a sky flecked blue. the darling boy was one of average size for a youth of eighteen, though perhaps on the slender side of structure, and was a being whom's features were soft and feminine for that of a male as he fell upon the "pretty boy" spectrum of dashing appearances. but antigone was not one who was mistaken for his opposite gender given his quite obvious build, save if he wished to be. for the prince by birth was a master of his self-taught androgyny and could portray himself as feminine or masculine as he so desired, simply depending on the day and circumstance.

as he stood amongst crimson roses, he was more so on the feminine spectrum of the wheel. antigone gazed upon flowers clad in an odd form of attire of exotic origin that consisted of light blue ribbon-like cloth draping his slender form. it was something which left quite little to the imagination, revealing all of his fair legs, quite a bit of chest, and the entirety of his back, the exotic outfit seemed to solely bunch up with fabric at the most of obscene places. perhaps others judged the piece as unfitting and obscene but he cared very little and enjoyed the attention in which it gave him- an entirely selfish admiration but one he fully admitted too. he was quite odd in that way, wearing his flaws as a badge upon his bare chest.

antigone had gone to pick a rose that morning, reaching slender fingers about the stem to pull it from it's branch, however, found himself tightening blue eyes as ivory lashes brushed against porcelain skin upon feeling a rather cutting pain. as he pulled back to examine his hand, a frown pulled across ivory features as he observed a trickle of crimson blood from his finger tip. it'd seemed he'd been cut by a thorn. but as he examined it further, red quite prominent against the pale of skin, a wretched smile curved his lips as a wonderful idea formed within his mind. perhaps he would have some fun that morning after all. "Oh dear, I think I'm dying," he sounded distressed, hoping one or two would come along sword in hand with distressed features- or better yet, a stoic elder sibling. either or, it would be interesting.

ren targaryen