Of Mantras on Veins
Age: Wolf: 21 :: BPS: 33Species: Canus
Gender: MaleSpiritual Rank: Liason
Posts: 66 Stones: 1,187.25❂ Played by: Lashes
He Spoke to Me in Madness and I understood His Reason
#7



VAGABOND OF FORTUNE  NEXUS OF SENSATION  HARBINGER OF THE VOID



HE RISKED much of himself with the veracity of such a statement. Evolution was painful, uncomfortable, and foreign.  YEt, this very struggle was all that could guide him, the teacher that molded clay into pottery. He longed to be more than he was, to shove himself through layers of fire, so only the steel of his mettle would survive, could be the only tool he posssessed to see him through. THEY touched with supreme affections, so the cords of his soul trembled by Their plucking fingers. They seemed pleased with his request, amused and contemplative as They considered ways to measure his worth.
'Very well'.

They do not touch his flesh, but They need not to.  Close enough that the blind-man's sensitivity could feel the cup of Their hands hovering milimeters from his angled cheeks. The warmth made his skin flush.
'You will lead for us, Jackal Vur.'

Teasing, commanding tonalities described the purpose of this task to him.  He knew They could sense the thunder of his heart and the adrenaline that rose to meet such a mission.  Indeed, it was devious, and he bit his lip to still his own laughter, for he did not wish to miss the words of instruction They provided.  The Vagabond had not settled since his exile, refused to do so despite the tribes he'd come across in his wanderings.  He required too much motion.  He required too large a need to Guide, to find those who wandered and convince them to wander along his side, if for a time. Mirth made his blood sing. Indeed, it was evolution by thrusting him into the realm which he was forced from so long ago. To make him lead so he could not solely perform in the shadows, but in Lantern light as well.  The thrill made him dizzy.
'We trust you can live up to this quest?'

They considered him with a blinding stare.  His cataracts reflected Their shining light, and upon his face was a wild smile.  Indulgent too Their quest, commited now to the stew of ideas that had begun to churn in his frontal lobe.  Names spawned with purposes behind them, senses of requirement, and measures of direction. He despised Their request, yet also adored it, and the sensation of personal struggle already rising within his chest.  Memories flooded of all his former ties, the ache and pain revived to a sear that consumed his heart.  Challenge it.  All of it.  Become more.

Jackal could no longer prevent his laughter, rushing from his lips with thrill and expressive nerves.  His chin dipped, bowing to Their question.  He would not fail.  He was a patient being, and would take as much time as necessary to accomplish this, not only for Essence's decree, but the challenge it presented to his character.  
YOUR trust shall never be misplaced in Me.
 He reassured, bass like warm silk in the pungent air.  

He sat, cross legged, unable to find the will in him to depart from Their temple so soon. Afterall, it was not merely the desire for discovery and the whispered legends of granted wishes that brought him here, but the fevered desire to connect with Them.  From a cloth pouch he pulled two blood oranges.  One, he placed before Their feet with another fervored smile.  The other his nails began to tear open, so crimson citrus spilled over his fingers. 
I have brought You a gift.  This fruit possesses everything I understand of the senses. Will You partake with me?
  


Jackal possesses the Unicorn's Tear. He is able to heal any wound but his own.
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Age: ImmortalSpecies: Deity
Gender: Spiritual Rank: The One
Posts: 30 Stones: 7,290.58❂ Played by: Xalypsis Staff
all that was, is, and will ever be.
#8

“If we find ourselves with a desire that nothing in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that we were made for another world.”



Perhaps, she was once human. Her sorcery, heavily bound to the gentle and tempestuous forces of nature, were shackled and weakened upon coming to this strange land whose earth held much bounty, but was also rich in savagery. The aural imminence of it touched upon her consciousness in ways of discomfort and dubiety, ergo, it ever fueled the soft fire within her to find at last that which she had been so diligently searching. She would groom herself in deliberate repose, watching, listening, waiting. Therein the struggle of the wild, there was surely a beast who eyed her delectable virtue.

How this man reminded us so deeply, of the form we shed so long ago. 

His intrinsic insistence upon staying in our domain once again touches us in the strangest of ways. He, in many respects, was the first mortal to visit our realm in many eons, and while our omnipotence counts each passing second instinctively we choose to remain unconscious about the passage of time.  

Suppose we did fill our existence with watching the living and counting how many would die in our own lifetime; our growth would stifle, and become stagnant, and we ourselves would no longer evolve. The man must have known what a precious gift to a god that was compassion, the official gestures of friendship. No one looks to us for friendship. And we are wise as to why such a thing is.

Thought, and action, in terms of god and mortal, were oft unrecognizable unto each others perception. Through veil of chiseled chrome bangs we look upon his offering, the simplistic structure of its elementary yet miraculous manifestation. We try to remember the sensation of taste; how base it was, and is, compared to the sensory organelle of a deity whose construction was energy directly from the astral plane. 

We cannot bear to merely consume this precious token of closeness. He belongs to us, and he willingly knows, and accepts this. Atop this reality, he wants to belong to us, to feel our proximity in ways most meaningful. 

We...cannot bear to eat it. We're afraid it's...far too cherished to simply be consumed. 

We confess with a sultry chuckle. 

We instead mold the blood orange to our form.

Within us, it will never decay. Our tastes unfortunately cannot supply the reverence this little fruit deserves...but we will save it for another with those which can. 


Heed, and listen closely.
▲ And let our thoughts become one. ▲
 


@Jackal

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Age: Wolf: 21 :: BPS: 33Species: Canus
Gender: MaleSpiritual Rank: Liason
Posts: 66 Stones: 1,187.25❂ Played by: Lashes
He Spoke to Me in Madness and I understood His Reason
#9


Carmine pulp erupted across his thumbs and dribbled to sacred stone.  Fragrances flourished with sprays of succulent scents.  For a moment he was suspended in the scent alone, consumed by the sweet-tart citrus.  His heart was thunder, his tongue swollen with desire. Two chunks lay in either palm, he panting between the current of energy they fed though his body.
We cannot bear
to eat it
The song of their voices was tribute to his own captured soul.  The perplexity of his adoration narrated.  He was overwhelmed, and addicted to the experience itself.  What graciousness it was, to hear what was felt, to taste scents blossomed on air.  
We're afraid it's
far too cherished
to simply be consumed.

The blindman huffed laughter, holding each gleaming chunk with desperate possession.  He felt impressions of motion and heat, still cavern air unsettled and a small brush of orange flesh on porous mineral.  
Within us, it will never decay. Our tastes, unfortunately, cannot supply the reverence this little fruit deserves...but We will save it for another with those that can.


A swell of empathy rose from the ocean within.  A sadness frothed in waves upon inner shores, as he considered this admittance.  Questioned the details left in receeding sands: how much was lost, when a transcendence such as Theirs was made?  Yet a settled silence remained as he faced mires in the path before him. Rely on the consistancies: chances yet taken, fortune's wheel in rotation, time's inevitability, and fate's instability.  He consumed the right half in two bursting bites. Brows furrowed and body rocked against the shockwave.  His skin sang in cascading sopranos his surrendered thrill.  Before this skin, I comprehended nothing of taste.  The esctasy hurt.

An endless gift.. Jackal mused in return, a mild reply of pleasure to the thought of his gift continuing to one unknown.  A means of his inclusion.  One that would thusly occur without his knowledge.  What shall become of such an action?  What would the ripples be?

He consumed the other half in three thoughtful parts.  The undercurrent finality of Their words, his gesture, Their command.  Were They overwhelmed as well?  He could recall no lore passed on lips of those who sought Their presence.  Trapped to the easily controlled history and pup story, was this Being of altuistic affluence smothered.  Their complexity undermined by generations of silence and closed rationality.  To think upon it hurt, an ache to his pulsating soul and throbbing head. Yet this was why he sought to speak with Them, to know; he grew tired of the droll insecurities left in the silences between Canis stories, lores, and warnings.  They were real in manners long since forgotten.

He should leave.  To linger any further would only cause stress upon the peace and infant understanding between them.

I shall return to You, Essence. Jackal breathed his promise, gathering Lantern in his left hand as he swayed to a stand.  He grinned, genuine and intoxicated, and whistled a clear, sweet note.  Receeding to the tunnel that led him in, his notes trilled along the scale before spiralling into a melancholic melody.

Jackal has departed from ESSENCE's presence



by Tasha!

Jackal possesses the Unicorn's Tear. He is able to heal any wound but his own.
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