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#Post#: 36867--------------------------------------------------
Re: Que and Pride.
By: Eri Date: November 25, 2011, 9:20 pm
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[center]The chill of the air was as alluring as it was familiar,
the woman's head swiveling with a deep unease as she eyed the
chilly walls of the tomb like palace, as it seemed. From the
cold on her skin to the faint drone of what seemed to be deadly
whispers deep within her mind, Maria could not help but be
struck by the deepest sense of remembrance. Had she been here
before? Perhaps one of the places she had visited on one of her
many journies? But...that didn't explain these people. It
didn't explain anything. Stricken by fear at the lack of
understanding she held, Maria was locked eye to eye with a
mirror image of herself. Tall, lean, eyes as green as the seas,
skin as ashen as the color gray, yet upon that face...there was
something odd in that expression. Something she couldn't
understand...and it frightened her. At least, she assumed that
was what that gnawing feeling in the pit of wherever her stomach
was, was, the strange creep and crawl of the emotion binding
her into spot even though all she wished to do was run away ,
far, far away. Her fear, however, was momentarily interrupted
as the white-haired woman with the skin that reminded her of
places she distantly remembered, lands ladden with sand, only
nodding faintly as she felt the weight of her soon to be burden
against her neck weighten, her gaze sliding back towards the
more human male upon a throne who's gaze seemed...more intense
than it was merely seconds ago.
[/center]
[center]Martinique could not describe the...stupid things
flowing through him. Seeing her was like...seeing an
apparition. One moment she was inexistent within his world,
nowhere to be seen, nowhere to be heard, and he spent so many
tedious days and hours searching for her, the diamond in the
coal. The next moment, there she was, and she had seemed just
the same as the last time he had ever seen her. Yet there was
that odd air given to her that was given to him, a strange sense
of triumph and superiority, even though she had no way to hold
it correctly. Tall, proudly held, the body many women envied,
and her hair...The same hair that haunted him every time he
chose to actually look at himself within a mirror. There it
was...then she spoke. "Who are you?" Any moment of affection he
held dissipated, and in its wake was anger and confusion proudly
displayed not even looking up from his throne as he began to
rise, having the gall to brush off the Dead Lord with a swift
flick of his hand, almost as rude as flipping him off himself.
"Leave me and your senseless chatter away. You are not my God,
complain to those who have the ear for your bullshit." And with
that, Martinique began to stand, fists curling within the depths
of his pockets as his steps slowly began to travel down along
the steps.
[/center]
[center]Maria was deeply unsettled, eyes looking away from
Pride's jackal-like appearance to instead, stare at the form
beginning to shift down the stares silently,
ghostly,...horrifyingly. Every step he took closer, that
screaming feeling within her began to rise and Maria wished to
turn away, turn around, and run. His gaze was frightening,
especially the way he turned it upon the woman speaking to her
with words spoken upon the deaf, his look nearly...carnivorous.
And not in a sexy way, as she had been told some people had
looked upon her. No. He looked upon her as if he were a starving
lion in small confines with a gazelle. Like she was nothing but
the prospect of dinner...That gaze, it was like nothing she'd
ever seen before. In such a daze, Maria jumped very faintly as
Pride pushed her forward, her body making it closer to the
looming form of her look-a-like, already tensing for some
unknown reason as they passed sides, a momentary lock of gazes
with so many unspoken uncertanties and wrath that she was left
breathless, almost collapsing into the plush throne. Who was
he?! Who were they? Why couldn't she just go back to the
confines of Echo's warm home? Sure, he was odd, but at least he
was interesting, not so scary company!
[/center]
[center]Martinique stood at the foot of the steps, sea-green
irises a horrifyingly terrifying sight, ghastly bright as the
room's light merely died down, locking his eyes with similar
orbs holding no sense of recognition. How dare she forget...The
memories were playing like a shattered little memory-land long
forgotten, his left foot one step higher than the right, hands
folded into his pockets as he stood, not proud, but firm. She
could watch for all he cared, he didn't give a single flying
piece of fuck. His rage was horrific, shaking him to the core
as he eyed his sister, his fated love, sit there, watching the
reels with her elegant head slightly shaking from side to side,
slowly at first before her nails gripped into the armrests, her
voice simple as it shouted out. "Stop this nonsense!" With
this, he began to walk, slowly, methodically along the steps,
only acknowledging Pride's presence with a simple phrase. "Now
you understand." With that, he continued walking, now standing,
a territorial, looming presence above his lovely sister before
she finally noticed, looking upwards with her lips parting, the
promise of tears becoming evident within her eyes.
"Martinique..."
[/center]
[center]"About time you remembered, you wretched whore. Now,
I'll take back what you've taken from me." It was just like the
fleeting memories pressing within the scrolls of their memories,
so quick yet so horrifically slow. His hand slipping away from
the confines of his pockets, the darkness of the room
momentarily broken as the shadows detached themselves from one
simple corner, ensnaring his arm as it rose and dived forward, a
simple, pointed shape of a promising spear against his hand as
it dove straight into the chest cavity of the woman, her back
arching with a choking, gurgling gasp. Blood flowed from her
mouth and her eyes widened, arm viciously pulling her up from
the throne as he dangled her a few inches from the floor, gaze
stony and sympathetic as spatters of blood poured upon his
cheeks, his voice simple, monotone. "Give me back the power you
never deserved."[/center]
#Post#: 37264--------------------------------------------------
Re: Que and Pride.
By: Rilo Never Bask In Glory Date: November 26, 2011, 12:57 am
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[center]Anubis' ears had long picked up the sounds of skin being
torn, yet he did not intervene as of yet. No, this was Pride's
business, not his. He could not interfere when it came down to
it. How long ago was it that he took his seat of power? It had
been quite a few decades, really. Osiris had fallen corrupt and
Anubis had been there to attempt to get the God back to his
former glory. Though this was the start of a horrible ending.
The constant words being thrown back and forth as well as the
congregation of hell rising from the ground below, there was a
determination settled in the Jackal's mind that soon forced him
to take over Osiris' position. The entire war between Anubis and
Osiris had drawn attention from the other Gods and Goddesses,
spectators of the inevitable taking place as the Jackal and the
Green skinned beasts fighting each other to near death. It was
all over soon enough and Anubis stood as victor, taking Osiris'
position on top of his own. It was a tragedy, considering Osiris
was a friend, but he had grown too out of it and too enraged to
be in that position of power. War would've broken out amongst
the living and the dead if Osiris had stayed in power. Now, the
position circulates between himself and Pride. Pride having
taken the position with great glory from Anubis in a battle of
the ages.
Even now as Pride sat there, emerald orbs soon slipping half way
open to clearly observe the siblings. It was of nothing
unnatural to her people that siblings be together intimately.
Though that only made it even more horrid to her heart, that
stone cold face shrouding a lot of what she was feeling as she
watched Martinique approach Maria. Those words stung like ice
but that did not matter when the spear manifestation came
crashing into the woman's being. Did he not understand what this
place was? Who she was? No, he wouldn't have even known had she
not brought him down here. Even then, he still didn't know the
half of it. Slowly, the jackal like woman stood. It didn't take
but a moment for her entire being to change. The Jackal
appearance faded and white locks were twisted onto one shoulder.
Now wearing the formal attire of the Egyptians, she stood there
as Emerald pools blankly stared upon Martinique. "As much as I
do love you, Martinique. You must be well aware of the rules
here. Death is not your district, it is mine. Attempting to harm
your sister, what gain is there in that? You've claimed to love
her, yet if you did truly, you would not harm her." The softest
of golden glows accompanied her being as she stepped closer to
Maria, a gentle touch caressing her shoulders as she simply
returned the previous slides of her body, or rather,
relinquished the hold Martinique held on her.
With a swift pull, Maria was ensnared in her arm in a standing
position. That stone face ever gruesome as she gingerly turned
on her heels and swiftly put Maria in her throne. It was then
that things got extremely tense and heavy. Her gentle look was
but a facade compared to her actual emotions as she seemed to
miss slides of animation before her arm was cocked back and her
fist was harshly thrown into Martinique's jaw. Standing tall,
her fists clenched as that ever blank expression remained
despite the tears. "Martinique, you've certainly changed. You've
become greedy and malicious over power. Why? I dare not ask this
question because I fear the answer you will give. Despite the
fact that you have a decent amount of power that would serve you
well, you're trying to kill your sister to get more. You should
have paid attention, Martinique. You should have listened to
what my grandfather had said before to me." She stepped closer
to him once more, hands now folded in front of her as emerald
eyes seemed deader than her own being. "Anubis long took hold of
Osiris' position over the dead because of his greed and rampant
rage that consumed him. I then took over the position myself.
Your claim of death holds no meaning in this place. Nor does
your attempt to cause harm. If you would have paid attention....
If you would have just stayed the same but gotten stronger in a
different way.. Then maybe.." She trailed off momentarily to
gain her composure back once more.
White locks shadowed her face slightly as she looked down a bit.
"Then maybe instead of this, you and Maria could be happy. Or
Maybe.. Maybe you'd be the God of the Dead, at my side upon this
throne." She finished before she looked at Maria for a moment
before returning her eyes to him. "Your God as you call him, is
but something you think. The hypocritical minds of the people
congregated. Sibling love is not a taboo with in my people. You
do not choose who you love.. Just like I did not choose to love
you, but it happened. Tell me, Martinique.. Why have you tried
so hard? Why give up the chance of a wonderful life with Maria
for this? Do you not realize that when you are with some one,
you are shared souls? I have no doubt that your loving sister
would have simply given you her abilities if you had just told
her what you wanted. I have no doubt that this could have worked
out better. It didn't though, and sadly, things have turned for
the worst." Pride stood there in front of Maria's sight to keep
herself between the two siblings. There was so much pain
writhering through her being but nothing she could do to aid it.
[/center]
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