A Drone that Dreams
random encounter, aw
Age: ImmortalSpecies: Deity
Gender: Spiritual Rank: The One
Posts: 32 Stones: 7,290.58❂ Played by: Xalypsis Staff
all that was, is, and will ever be.

Would the cosmos be
something akin to hive mind
chaos and order?

We, a mere insect
choose to leave the hive today
where flesh just might bleed.

Age: IV Wolf | XXV BipedSpecies: Canine
Gender: FemaleSpiritual Rank: Conceiver
Posts: 22 Stones: 152❂ Played by: Ally
Travel I, in dreams, when the material world should weigh me down I fly, unburdened by the suffocating chains of reality.

By blood, a Queen

kyley code

She had made good on her threat...promise...whatever it had been. The hair of the forest ungulate was coarse but serviceable, and the sharp-edged shale the woman had used to scrape off the fat and flesh from its hide dug into her palm and left the pads of her fingers raw and sore from repetitive motion. The leathery hide was now supple and soft, after Ysabeaux had taken the animal’s own fat and and massaged it back into the flesh. The hair still coated the other side, to be turned inward to lay against her bare human skin.

Energy, magic, power sang in her veins as she worked, rawhide and sinew twisted into rough thread, a shard of bone from the foreleg shaped into a needle, all parts of the beast going to some use. The night before she had taken back her wolf shape, regained more easily than she had thought possible and hunted with all the untainted exhilaration of the predator, fed upon the hot flesh and lifeblood of the unlucky doe, and slept beneath the stars within the forest that was glutted with enchantment.

The magic of Eshteth had lassoed her dreams and dragged her astral self along for the ride, flicking through both memory and mystery, future and fortune and failure, and it was amidst the many changing mistscapes that she had plucked the knowledge of the craft at which she now plied. The garment’s cut and shape were rough, hacked at with one of her slender daggers not meant for such a task--an opening for her upper torso, one facsimile of a strap over her shoulder to hold it to her body and the hem hardly fell to mid-thigh (it was not a very large beast from which she had taken the hide), but it would do. It would protect her core, her vulnerable abdomen, and perhaps later, at her leisure she would develop something more refined. Ysabeaux’s hands were steady as she pushed bone needle and rough thread through the leather; down, up, across, and down again, the rhythmic motion soothing, hooding her eyes as the sun climbed towards its zenith.

A burst of energy in the already magic-charged air hit her like a lightning bolt, and the calico-haired woman yelped and her fingers jerked, stabbing the needle into the back of her hand. She bit off a curse, falling backwards onto the leaf-littered earth and letting the shard of bone drop to the ground. The air crackled in her ears and her nose was filled with the richness of ozone, yet the sky above her was blue and cloudless. Nostrils flared, taking a deep breath and this time a copper tang came with the heavy static. Slowly she raised her hand to the level of her dual-toned eyes. A single droplet of blood glistened there upon the surface of her sun-bronze skin, scarlet and sparking with gemstone brilliance. She grimaced and brought the droplet to her lips. The taste was like passionfruit upon her tongue. 

By heart, a fool



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