Fimbulvetr

Ren

Character OTS

OTS 1
OTS 2

Björn & Lirr

Couple OTS


' here's your chance, do your dance

#1

She missed having a place in the world. It hadn't been a place she chose, or even one that she would say she particularly wanted on the rare chance she wasn't lying to herself, but... it was hers. She had been the one to care for the littles, to watch their needs and hear their crying, to cuddle them when they were happy or scared. It wasn't what she wanted in life - honestly, she didn't know what she wanted - but it was hers, and some had relied on her, and it had felt nice to be needed.

Now she didn't even have a reason to wake up in the morning.

Sure, she could go out and talk to people, ask for something to do, but what if they were busy? What if she interrupted them? What if they only gave her things so that she'd leave them alone? No, oh no, she did not did not did not want that. She had never wanted to be a bother, not to anyone, not for any reason, so she'd let people come to her first. If they wanted, and only if they wanted. If they seemed to no longer want her there... well, she could leave and leave again. It was fine. It was fine. They probably had reasons to be here - where was here? Wide, yellow eyes glanced around, taking in what she hadn't been aware she wasn't noticing. Oh. Near water, and lots of grass, and ... deer? It was wide, and blank, and not-quite-empty but empty enough, with views allowing her to almost feel safe that she wasn't about to be eaten. Or did she want to be eaten? No, no she didn't, but it would give her purpose. Maybe then she'd even have a place in the world.


ooc ;; oof rough but i dun did it
Maren

code by tiyre | art by hevonenstudios
Tag: @[Thomasyn]

#2



you lay there silent there before me
YOUR TEARS THEY MEAN NOTHING TO ME

A place in the world. Ha! Maren's teal hooves struck the ground in her ire. Maren had never had a place in the world. Even among a coven of witches bound by blood she was the black sheep. Nothing about her upbringing leveled her on the same plane as her sisters, and worse even was the deranged mind sitting between her petite harks. Maybe her mother had known something was wrong with Maren - maybe she'd had enough foresight to keep the girl at a distance. A knotted banner slapped at her appaloosa kissed hinds, rending stings along the delicate flesh. No... she'd always been different. Sub-par, no matter how hard she'd tried. Every single one of her sisters were beget by Gods, Angels, demons, some creature with a shimmer of divine light within them. And she? This tear streaked, haunting girl? A mortal more askew than she. Hell... his name was lost to time.

He had faded into the background, an enigmatic ghost never to be heard, seen, or spoke of again. Was that her same fate?

Obsidian fangs clacked together as her jaw trembled - a simultaneously conscious and unconscious tick. Every so many seconds her visage would rotate sharply, before slowly falling back into alignment as she hobbled forward. Her gate had returned to a somewhat normal jaunt - if her stalking could ever be considered normal. The mangled leg - still mangled, mind you, still festering with infected ick - was stronger. While bone still winked through the tendrils of rotting sinew that kept it together, the rather startling condition was misleading. Maren's magic had returned to her. She felt it. She'd awoken after leaving the cave she'd been confined in, bandaged up by the healer, and she just felt it. Like a ping.

Through a sheer will, she knitted enough dead meat to hold the break. To think, how many necromancers could turn their magic on themselves?

But it held, and she would walk. Some strides were slower, calculated, with minute adjustments before committing to the next step. While others were quick, rapid, and drove her through a period of landscape with speed rather than precision. But it was as quick as she dared to go - she feared the strength of her limb and her arcanum if she were to pick up her pace to even a trot. She'd managed this far - she wasn't turning back ("Back, back, back, back.", "Go back, go back, go back", "Never back."). There wasn't a purpose for her trek because she without a place has no purpose. But she kept going still, kept her limbs moving, kept her joints lubricated and strengthening until they stopped.

Maren halted when her eyes of ghostly blue caught the vision of another. A dark femme sat among the verdant fields of this southern hold. Water built along her hooves as she stood, stock still, as if frozen in time. The only thing that moved was her mane and tail in the gentle breezes that flowed across the sloping environment. She was a predator who'd spied prey but ultimately knew there was nothing to be done. Her dexterity was lost, her constitution damaged almost irreparably. Maren would never be the hunter she once was ("You're broken., "Damaged.", "A failure.""), and face to face with the women of yellow hair and skeletal markings the girl realized it.

There was never a place for her, even when she'd worked so hard to carve one for herself.


"maren talking", "women within", "wolf within"


TAGGED: @[Someone]
WC: 582
MUSE: 2/5
OOC: this is trash so sorry

coding © soupi
manip © haraima @ dA

powerplay allowed!
be warned!
maren is highly unpredictable
Tag: @[Maren]