I know the world's a broken bone, but melt your headaches call it home.

mindalt's avatar

Last Login: 06/03/2014 9:12 pm

Gender: Female

Birthday: 11/06

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Passing Through

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Do you suppose she's a wildflower?

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MetiIda Report | 06/05/2014 7:59 am
My favorite teacher always used to said "an eye for an eye leaves the whole world blind." razz
MetiIda Report | 05/23/2014 6:44 pm
Just noticed how close our birthdays are. Yours is two days after mine!
MetiIda Report | 05/21/2014 11:14 pm
Lol, okay. Just hit me up tomorrow and I'll give you some gold after you have your trading pass. smile

My Very First RP:

Name: Zion
Race: Foxa (Part fox, part human)
Occupation: Thief, mischief-maker, skilled in melding (hiding quickly)
Appearance:Here


Character Introduction

A shade by any other name would devastate as silently; a thief known by nothing more than a passing shiver into the night, before you're dazed and denuded of all observable value. A hungry man will rip his fish from where it hangs mid-sprint, while obscenities besiege him from his meal's previous holders, and a cold man would beat the innocent for their windbreaker. Robbing blights to society. Flitting between the creases of the forest, a shade called Zion prowls in the night for what shines beneath the sun. But she is not hungry, and she is not cold. She is a thief by blood, unmatched by all authority.

in response to Wyeright:

Zion's stomach pressed for something to eat, rippling back to her spine. Her feet shook in her boots, begging to be released from the relentless drag of the rest of her body. In the early morning, as the pale new light composed it's day above the treetops, Zion had witnessed a quail chick passing through. She watched the chick haggardly, waiting for a kill of substantial meat, while melding to the growth among her. She had followed the chick to a set of tracks presumably belonging to those from which the chick had been separated. The hunt lasted until the cool evening dusk settled and spread between the peat moss and earth, and had resulted in a devastating spoil.

The tracks dissipated beyond a brush, which Zion followed delicately, fragile in her own survival. She pushed past the brush, first with her hand, then opening a wide clearing with the back of her forearm. The dismembered gizzards and remains of her hunt lie in it's own rotten viscera. A single cerulean streak throbbed behind her temple, "poachers."

With her day disintegrated into a starving disappointment, Zion let herself slump against the tree behind her, the crimson ears that peak above her scalp wavering with the movement. A howling roar coiled in the pit of her body, folding her inside of herself. Her nails clawed through the soil beside her, plowing it beneath her fingernails. Her hair hung in front of her, waving above her struggle to breathe, and the mist rolling through the forest. From the reaches of perception, the outline of tracks began to appear in the dirt as her vision focused to them. There were four digits to the track, the pad curved slightly underneath, daunting talons extending from each point.

Zion rested her hand on her thigh, gracing the edges of a holstered knife. Branches began to crackle and snap in the distance, which caused her ears to flinch in it's direction. Zion curved around the trunk, and watched night itself pass like a bat from hell- an onyx laser beam, unmatched in speed. She made the creature out to be a wild canine of sorts. While admiring it's curious stature, something began to change. Just as quickly as it had arrived, the creature's body elongated and took the observable form of a human, who panted wildly as he sat on a nearby log. The man smiled viciously, looking down at a immaculately flawless jeweled necklace. The man took a moment of contemplation and began to walk again.

Zion argued with the idea of food and company, both of which she may receive from the man, but only one of which she would gladly take. Unless he was hostile, in which case she would promptly eviscerate him into nothing, and never question the events again. Zion rarely showed beyond the shadows, and with so hardly spoke to anyone. Perhaps it was the concept of man's best friend, or maybe he was actually trustworthy, but something took her interest, and it would not be lost until she had received answers.

"Don't move." she spoke from behind his back, her hand gripping a long thin sword that was strapped to her back. "I'm friendly- I just can't be too safe in thinking that you are... I'm a traveler... looking for some company..." she finished, shaking in anticipation to make an ally, or defend herself if the man is hostile.