twisted formations (acceptance)

[Roarke]

Rejuvenation; that subsequent formation of change that had swept through the past time and time again, littering against the forces of nature and utterly showing them to be hallow and naught but ash, as it seemingly restored the very balance that former destruction had rent upon it; the fabrics of time all laid out in place and set to dry now that they were once again in order, in their corrected setting that wanted to defy the laws that the natural beings had set in place by the sheer formality of it. It renewed the harsh and the grit of broken landscapes, molding them to a better, more fitting shape to hold the earth's creations, a more hospitable place to raise such children upon the right views all away from the more corrupt forces- but that savior was not all it was made to be. The natural laws always had their place, and such it was here; never was their any constant peace, with the bickering of individuals and mere petty squabbling over the next small bite of heaven on earth. No- war ravaged the needs of the natural way, the darwinistic way, that the earth so desired upon itself for a greater balance between it's inhabitants. So turned their unforgiving circle, the weights between life and death, and the route that was forever walked by each and every denizen.

The past had flickered between these, rent upon the makers spinning wheel as the clay was molded and set into the fire; while burning yellow eyes surveyed the coming landscape, the mind reveled in the former bringings and the reason, the just and unjust survivalism that led the opposed to their freedom and the righteous to their doom- the previous events that passed by his eyes in countenance, baring a cynical grin to this oppressed righteous. So where did the lion fall?

Grey paws slid over the wretched jungle landscape, moving with ghost- like apathy between the rotting foliage merely wilting away upon the ground that never saw it fit for survival, and the thriving undergrowth that reached up, spreading long fingers to attempt in all grace to touch the trees; for they themselves, hung their hands downward to the earth, straining to aid the smaller, weaker below. So unlike the pack itself, the landscape was the opposite, and thus could be considered a thing of balance to the ever shifting annihilation that waited just below the surface.

Yellow, beacon eyes shifted through the growing darkness, as the great form itself stood amongst the fallen branches and the thriving tendrils of the thorns, so set aside from the rest by their abilities, by their appearance to the masses. So denied the right of their own existence by the object of fear itself.. and the behemoth shook his head, soft snort flowing through nostrils and disturbing the surrounding air with a light, choked sound caused through the lungs themselves as they cleared away the floating debris that had no sun to escape too beyond the canopy top. Watching, waiting. Who would appear before the created monster?

[Moon.]

-K a r t h r i g e

The jungle, oh the jungle cradled the crazed creature, the moss so soft and squishy beneath her toes, she wondered in the highway-crash-scene mind why blood didn't ooze out of the green fibers rather then water. It would be more appropriate she knew that, the queen had fallen and all the pieces had been broken couldn't be put pack together. So instead of tape they got a new egg in the carton, nicer egg, she liked this egg. A riddle was born, "A-ain'ta no sticky s-sap
Queen s-shut her trap asnap
Jungle has new
But eww eww..."

It tumbled forth with a cackling laughter, with no regard to the fact she was 'disrespecting' the dead queen, singsong in an intriguing way that bounced through the trees like Tiger on a sugar rush.

Couldn't remember the rest, or forgot it, which one made more sen-. Sense oh that was a good one, someone said she didn't have any, big army one say that.

Something caught the crazed fox's muddy eyes, something big, and grey with eyes like her, two brighter and clearer ones. The tall ears sprung up, for a moment a persona of a puppy passing with joy and uprised brows, then serious business Queen Kye make pass over, straightening out and setting her alight and angry with the hellhound she had been so glad to see only a second ago. The moss-covered vines creaked for her lithe body, slipping beneath and her belly crawling with dirt from sleekly sneaking under the tressels that climbed from above in the canopy and created arches and bridges from one great giant of a tree to another.

From forth their shadows erupted the figure, looking like a stone ruin with moss clinging to her pelt and rock and dirt embedded in her muddy fur. The Hawk had come to see her prey, it had fangs it did like the poisonous viper the bird would pick up with it's talons. She saw and was not intimidated by the obvious size advantage the dark one held, beast of the jungle climbed from the tree's shadows, and sat if not a foot away from the grey giant. "You g-give name I-ia do too. You come i-invade death to y-you. I-ia Hawk of Sentry, if y-you come for a-acceptance I-ia do t-that buiness." The stumbled words were finished, cut off it seemed and not quite done, but Karth had spoken and waited with slightly tensed muscles for the grey hellhound to make his move and determine his fate within the walls of The Labyrinth that he had gone into, and met the Minotaur.

[Roarke]

Delirium; such an.. interesting thing. The way it shapes the mind and molds the thoughts long before and long after they are thought, affecting both the judgment and the sanity in itself of an individual. Careless remarks could be seen as threats, the most dangerous of situations could be considered harmless, and all for what? The creature such struck could live in a world free from horror and danger, free from all the blotches and impurities that mar the canvas of this life, and from the various discrepancies that one merely refuses to acknowledge or point out it's existence. Some however, are plagued by the monsters of reality without the substantial benefit of such a carefree state; no. These know what truly goes on, and yet still it can be perceived as something so harmful, so destructive, than they have no choice but to run away from it. So many stages of it, so many reaches, as it stretches long fingers deep within the cortex of the brain, groping into the darkest corners and lifting out what disgrace lies once beneath. Colors and shapes, so distorted. Meaning and reference out of whack. Lest you be those that know the illness, and survive.

Such oddities.. were a refreshment to the mind. A thing to be played around with, reasoned, looked over 'till the very apex of it's existence is know, took under the microscope and examined 'till there are no secrets left but the secrets held and newly created by the insanity's stumbling vortex itself. A Grey scale ear flickered absently, the announcement of the other's coming existence clearly heard by song; a contorted flicker of words and stream that focused themselves upon few of the many, muddled thoughts and all but warped them, trapping them within a state of absence to all reason and rhyme. Laughter shot out by seared lungs followed shortly behind, as the yellow eyes had already found the source of the noise.. just as sharper yellow speared within a muddy, fogged over gaze seen of the fox- creature.

For the shortest second, Meier observed as the female displayed what seemed to him as a happiness; a fluttering, tall movement of apparent glee at a foreign presence. 'Till the motion was covered by the ridged attitudes of distraught anger, the canid flowing much in his same apathy -however less sane and forthcoming as his own- through the twining branches of the above, slipping throughout the reaching tendrils of the moss wrapped branches and shroom covered bark. It never warped his curiosity when it came so close to him; rather, it accelerated it, the confines of his brain twisting and churning upon the occasion as a tongue passed lazily across his lack lips.

"You g-give name I-ia do too. You come i-invade death to y-you. I-ia Hawk of Sentry, if y-you come for a-acceptance I-ia do t-that buiness." Sputtered, mis-matched words echoed against his ears, nearly causing his head to tilt in a mundane fascination, coupled with a growing amusement seen in his expression, as the corners of his mouth turned upward; almost a sneer should one never bother a closer examination to the beast, yet more of a smirk in less than caring notion. Yellow locked with the not-so-searing olive hue of the wolf mix.

"Meier.." Deep, base of the words boomed, alight with sheer cynicism and radiating from the great chest, lungs exerting within themselves, taking an almost fluid hiss with it. "Acceptance it is..-" The words themselves cut off, prelude to the thought of a name given by other, should it not already have been offered; while the mouth was open slightly, parted for the tongue to again bathe it's residence in an almost lazily fashion, as the monster took a seat upon the soil. So this was the goddess' messanger..

[Moon.]

K a r t h r i g e

Oh, she was insane, quite so, but it had always been there and she herself as anyone who was truly loss and taken of their supposed 'sanity' didn't seem to acknowledge that fact that she was oh so warped. She knew it though, and that made all the difference. It had it's roots in her mind at first breath, digging down down, but never attempting to shook it's trunk upwards and spread it's leaves to the sun until the sun arrived in full bloom. When it did, the tree prospered and vines trailed forth from it's green canopy, traveling into the deepest caverns of her mind, dark and bleak and curling around them. All of her world had been set out before the willow, and while some, most of the decisions were bad, they were survival. And the survival is a cruel thing, that one must go into knowing they can never give up less they wish death.

Foxy red watched his flickering expression with a mad joy that was locked away by the mask of Hawk upon it's prey. He had seen her already, the riddling song she guessed. Almost cocked his head when the strange stuttered words fluttered out, almost, didn't though and that made her happy because he had passed her first test.

His words, his voice, that's when Karthrige decided that if he rebelled she wouldn't kill him just quite, maim a little, kick out. She wouldn't want to destroy such a beautiful voice. Voices, voices bounced about in her head all day long, to hear a good one was sweet delight to the crazed creature. Meier, liked that too. Then good news cracked the mask, a tiny smile. She wouldn't have to kill him, goodie, goodie. Monster of the maze opened her mouth once again, these letter grated like a ridge, but fitting. "Karthrige." Never stuttered when it came to a title, she could control it when she really, really wanted to, but that wasn't often. "I-ia want inf-formation, a-abilites, t-techn-nical. T-then ifa g-good enough you s-step over b-borders." She nodded her head, down and up once to reassure that yes statement was correct and good.

Blurry eyes, of an unwashed headlight looked straight ahead, wondering in her twisted, tree-rooted mind what and when grey hellhound beast would speak again, something longer she hoped voice was nice, perhaps a bass. She needed a bass instrument in her orchestra.

[Roarke]

Insanity; such a mundane feature, that warped and twisted the brain, distorting it's own reflected image, 'till the same was repeated amongst itself and lost within that very vision, never to see past the looking glass and upon the seemingly real world that satisfies the creature. Yet within the same spectrum, could the sane be the true insane? Left to see a world so masked over by what they know as reality, only to have their minds covered and never fully understand the oddest reaches of the mind, nor the sheer weightless, carefree semblance that such an insanity could bring; or the truest reaches of despair, the aching hallow that was wedged within the hearts of the lost and the betrayed, left to rot while the rest of the earth stayed within place, within the middle of the current existence. Another possible form of balance.. so it seems..

Yellow eyes took in the softest of smiles from the wolf, watching as the mask took on a crack and the slightest of the- truth? Flickering imagination settled among the possibilities, and pummeled them back and forth, amused at the many directions just one events could take as it whipped around to tell all that it knew. Or nothing that it knew at all; as the creature very well could be a superior denizen, yet harnessed by the very instinct that brought upon the mask, and thus it became more than meets the eye, for within a mind could be churning in the ways of the unknown to it's spectators. A thing he knew well...

"Karthrige." The name flowed out, unhindered by the previous stumbling speech patterns of the female, clear in it's ring and voice; and he flickered an ear absently again, a slight smile lighting upon his lips as he continued to look down into the murky olive pools below. The voice itself, a tantalizing thing once so straightened, and rung of the higher strains of it's disformation.

"I-ia want inf-formation, a-abilites, t-techn-nical. T-then ifa g-good enough you s-step over b-borders." Ahh... so finally they had arrived at the all important question; what could the one seeking acceptance be used for in the society as to further it, to aid it's way in the world and to allow it to survive. The why of coming to a land would answer itself in time, but this- this was to be planned out ahead, should you be the type to recall, to preserve your way in the world for success; so that you would not fail. You would survive; and be admitted into the darkest jungles where the light no longer caressed the charred soil.

It was almost tedious to the hellhound, this passing of blatant information, so that the gates would seemingly be open before the hands reached and took you down, long before you had any ability to scream, past the reasons of the past events. But a smirk lit his face, for this encounter, for the crazed, twisted female that he had so delightedly met. "Former Erbe, and Kaiser of Kristallnacht, conquerer of Rache." Base tones rumbled, emptying through a cavernous chest out into the surrounding air, filled with the harsh accent of his native language, while each word told their story to the crazed. "Physical, mental warfare. Workings of the body, use of words. Humility.. respect for the Queen. Loyalty." Words churned in their sharp formations, mere insights to the annihilation brought upon the creature, and his mundane reasonings. What direction would the insane pull.."

[Moon.]

The great giant of a tree rooted deep within her cavernous mind had once kind blossoms grow from the leafy branches above, but at some time or another thorns had begun to appear and stick out from the perimeter of the flowers. Then both plants stopped, and it was an odd limbo, for the tree would never be pruned. Reality pierced at her, and yet the soft velvet texture of the flowers touched and healed when the thorns would poke. Another additive to what surely was the insanity she possessed. And then spoken of herself, all things are, were perspective.

But then more often then not the flowers died in the cold, while the thorns grew bare, but sharper.

She watched with the eyes tainted with deep brown specks and black around the rims of olive yellow. Crazed creature saw the flicker of the grey ear, documented it, because it had occurred more then once. Patience while a feature of this mask, was not of her own, that one that when was said done perhaps the closest and all that remained of whatever she was before insanity had taken over and demanded the presence of the many personas. Maybe in another world she would have been an excellent poker player.

The cello instrument played it's wonderful voice, smirked in a cracked sense of a smile as he did, these words told of that what they were speaking was not his first tongue. The rich accent sharpening and deepening the english into something more pleasurable to listen to then the average babble. Conquerer stood out amongst the titles that she knew nothing of, and an eye would flitter free from the cold stare the mask demanded. There was a past there, conquerer would not come to another pack just so. Something more to the words, that time would tell her if she sat quietly and waited.

He listened out some things, as if it was too much trouble, and inside real Karth slept with boredom. She hated recruitment, who the hell cared, get in or get out. If you rebel here you're gonna die, why just not let them in regardless, see what little games the puppets and the pawns would play. "G-good enough, I-ia haven't seen a-anyt-thing to sup-port this, but t-the jungle will t-test you, s-so will I-ia. "