Monolithic
Age: Wolf: 21 :: BPS: 33Species: Canus
Gender: MaleSpiritual Rank: Liason
Posts: 68 Stones: 1,170.25❂ Played by: Lashes
He Spoke to Me in Madness and I understood His Reason
#1

Image by Tasha!



THRILL

The wolf-man entered the center of this unusual Forest, radiating a grin full of expectation and unfettered joy.  Magick here pressed upon his skin like the coming rains of Pyre, and brought a new reign of invigoration.   Massive oaks, ones he could feel the roots reach a dozen wolf-lengths below him, covered the forest in sweet shade.  The glare of Limu sun was broken up, so only dapples of sunlight could pierce the canopy.  Jackal tilted his head back to his companion with another off-kilter smile. Bare feet padded forward, slapping on granite as he came to a rest upon a small outcrop.  This was where the surge of magick was emitating from.  He trembled his excitement.  In a crunch and electric pops, indigo fur sprouted from scarred skin, and his skeleton elogated, growing in height as he dropped to hands and knees. 

SEARCH

Blind wolf tossed his nose to the heavens and unleashed a powerful howl, so the earth vibrated his frequency and the air shivered in the power of his bass.  A genuine invitation, a search for many, for any, to come explore this unusual arrival, to meet he and she, and perhaps THEY.  His voice faded.  Jackal took Lantern in maw and leapt from his perch back to pine debris and soft soil.  

CONCEPT

The magick here is as strong as I have ever known it to be.  Jackal mused to Ysabeaux,  turning his enigmatic attention back to her.  He panted from mounting adrenaline.  Now that their motion had ceased, the surge of his thoughts, questions, and ideas raided his system for outlets. A pressure across his entire cranium. Not wholley uncomfortable, but foreign enough to perpetuate the acceleration of his heart. My shed of skin is not typically so stimulating...rejuvintaing...wonderfully strange, this. He turned in place.  A strange moment to see, yet it was this need to see his environment that caused him to pad his paws in a tight three-sixty motion and consume the vibration that fed back to his circumfrence. 

ACTION

I want to use this opportunity to explore.  Timbre flared. WIthout further adieu, he plunged his will into a section of earth in front of him, clutched the solid mass felt by his energies, and ripped it upwards.  Yet he did not allow the chunk of earth to dismantle its connection, but instead coaxed a pillar to rise above their heads.  Once it doubled his height, Jackal let the column stand.  A laugh tickled his throat.  Jackal cirlced his new addition, inhaled fading daylight, and considered his supply of energy.  It's as if..every use is replenished. In a husss of wind, ivy and myrtle crawled upwards.  Two strains of morning glories followed, one a moonlit white, the other indigo night.  Tail wagged his pleasure, as he considered continuing his exploration of earthen capabilities, cradled within this forest of cedar, moisture, and pine. 

 *  speech  *  thought  *  telepathy  * ----


ALL WELCOME.  COME EXPLORE MAGICK SKILLS, AND SOCIAL THRILLS!

@Ysabeaux  @Poltergeist  @Loki Anor  @Morgana  @Royal Phoenix  @Ivandriel  @Quarion  @Cif'thar  @Fesashka  @Knurlnien  @Virsise

Jackal possesses the Unicorn's Tear. He is able to heal any wound but his own.
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Age: IV Wolf | XXV BipedSpecies: Canine
Gender: FemaleSpiritual Rank: Conceiver
Posts: 22 Stones: 149❂ Played by: Ally
Travel I, in dreams, when the material world should weigh me down I fly, unburdened by the suffocating chains of reality.
#2

OOC: Ahhhh sorry this took so long!



Strength had returned to her body from their meager scavenging, though her mind still reeled in dips and twists like an energetic mountain stream. Ysabeaux padded after Jackal, following him in the same way as might a cat--with enough swagger to suggest that it was purely coincidence that they happened to be traveling in the same direction. Not because she didn’t know where she was going. A grin tugged up one side of her mouth. Her limbs, too, felt a bit catlike, her joints loose and flexible and growing more languid the closer they came to whatever destination the blind wolf had in that convoluted labyrinth he called a mind. A wolf who felt like a cat. Ha.

The mirroring cheshire smile that was cast her direction was a beacon, an announcement as her bare feet crossed another threshold--and if she had felt the shock of magic when they had entered the forest, it was nothing compared to this. Lightning ripped through her in a pleasure-pain that had her blood sparking in her veins, the fur of her wolf sliding against the inside of her skin and claws pricking at her fingertips, begging to get out. The chime of her silver earrings were clarion whispers in her mind. Let go, they said. So she did.

A calico riot of color had her falling forward as some bones shortened and others lengthened, the eerie sensation of her sterling-tinted canines sliding into place like knives long gone from their sheaths still sending a prickle of discomfort down a spine that was twisting and elongating. Muscles knotted and smoothed out again into a sleek shape that was new and old, familiar and utterly alien to the human mind of moments ago. But already a deep, ancient instinct tugged at her, and when Jackal’s baritone howl split the air with its summons she automatically added her own voice, the alto rising to a silver note far above his, wavering in a harmony of minor keys that quivered in the upper atmosphere and sent the question, challenge, demand scattering to the far reaches of the island.

As the last notes faded, her companion was already on the move, both on the physical and magical plane and even his rich timbre held a touch of breathlessness. “I feel the same,” she agreed, not surprised to hear that echo of exhilaration in her own lighter notes. Large ears swiveled, a tickle behind them just out of the grasp of her full understanding...and then the ground exploded.

Ysabeaux danced back one step, two, her two-toned eyes traveling up, and up, and up as the construct of earth and magic surged towards the sky, draping itself with organic baubles and garlands in the kaleidoscope of colors nature could provide. The painted wolf forced herself to exhale, realizing she had held her breath as the monolith took shape, and flicked a glance towards Jackal’s wiry indigo form. He nearly glowed with power, Misery’s light emitting a brightness at odds with the size of her flame. She huffed a breath, the earth crooning under her paws but she had no magic that spoke to it, no power to command it to move and shift as he did. But there was more than one kind of power.

Ysabeaux the wolf rocked back on her haunches, tucking her feathered tail tight to her body and closing her eyes, one red, one green, and the trancelike dream state seized her between one breath and the next. Jackal was right--the use of her power was effortless here, urging, as if she were full to the brim and without an outlet she might very well explode. Almost immediately she opened her eyes from a different perspective and the world was as bright and vibrant as it had been moments before. Ysabeaux the human glanced back at her physical body, sitting still as a statue, and drew a knife from the sheath on her wrist.

“Before, I almost always manifested as a wolf,” she mused, half to herself. But now, here, on Eshteth, each time she had crossed the bridge from astral plane to physical, she walked on two legs. Curious. With silent steps that left no imprint upon the loamy soil she crossed to the great column rising in the center of their clearing. This body gave off no scent, yet it could be heard and seen, and even touched...with a quick motion she drew the tip of her blade across her arm, gashing a shallow cut that immediately welled bright blood. The corresponding forelimb of the calico wolf twitched but nothing more. Ysabeaux dipped her finger in the ruby liquid and, using it like ink, marked the column before her. Nonsensical shapes and swirls, the language and form did not matter, but embedded in the construct of power she added her own flare. True dreams, vivid dreams, open minds. “Open your minds to Them,” she murmured, wiping the last of the blood from her arm and smearing it in a final dramatic flourish. She stood back to admire her work. Curls slid over her black-clad shoulder as she turned to look at Jackal, her astral form as real and solid as it had ever been. “What now?”




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