Fimbulvetr

Ren

Character OTS

OTS 1
OTS 2

Björn & Lirr

Couple OTS


Open sea of corpses.

#1

REMEMBER, LESHEN IS RATED R.
THERE IS SLIGHT GORE WITHIN.
BEWARE.


Everything was a fucking hue of crimson; it was like he was seeing through blood. Or fucking fire.

Either one of them made sense, considering where he had crawled out from. It was almost like he could still feel the flames surrounding him, dancing all around. With every breathe he took out of habit, he felt as if he was inhaling smoke. Raw flames. But in truth, nothing was there. He no longer had organs, he was no longer truly alive. But he still bled, and oh did he bleed. From every single orifice. It wasn't constant, nor had it any rhyme or reason to when it began or ended. Just on a whim, like a breeze. His flesh was decaying, feeling of old leather, flapping in the wind. Yet it still held shape like he possessed meat between bone and hide.

It had taken him a bit of time to find his way out of the fucking labyrinth that the ancient tree left for him. The very first thing he laid gaze upon as he crawled from the deep ground, or in other words quite literally the pits of Hell. The beast had left a magnificent - at least in his point of view - bread trail from where he began, to where he ended up now. Dead bodies splayed in his wake, completely torn apart and mangled. Some had their optics missing, maybe one or two a tongue. But he made sure each and every one of them bled out slowly. Leshen wanted to hear the sweet, sweet melody of them screaming for their lives. Pleading for mercy, begging for help.

Just the very memory caused him to twitch, were if he had flesh, a wicked smirk would lay upon his lips at that moment. Feral noises came from the dark crimson beast as he approached the outline of more trees, the cool wind would of normally caused goosebumps to play on his hide. However lack of nerves refrained from that happening. A snarl of sorts emitted from his throat as stood there, observing. Blood ravished his visage, dripping from his skeleton nose. "Hungry... starved." More groans, a wheezing sound and then back to snarls. Leshen took a few steps forward, his hellfire optics glancing around, only to land on a petite female grazing in the distance. Audits melted into his cranium as he lowered his frame, as if stalking.

Closer he moved, lining himself up... his body moved like a large cat closing in on its prey. Twig snapped. The female looked up, noticing the horrifying man, she went to bolt. It had been too late, he had lurched forward and had his sharp teeth at her throat, deep into her flesh. With a twitch of his neck, he tore off the bit of meat he had latched onto, tearing her throat open in the process. Blood spewed in every direction, splattering him entirely. "More, more... I need fucking more." He growled into the mare's flesh as he tore into her stomach.

A monster had been released into the world of Fimbulevtr.

Now what were they going to do about it?  




we are the shadow that kills,
the hidden death that none suspect.

OPEN FOR ALL.
x

WARNING!

This character is categorized as strictly rated R.
Prone to violent, sexual acts, and otherwise uncomfortable scenes.
Proceed at your own risk.
Tag: @[Leshen]

#2

SKAUG


NEVER FORGET WHAT YOU ARE


Skaug typically didn't make a point of patrolling the Northern realm. It wasn't necessarily his job anymore - to sentry, to scout. But old habits died hard. He liked having a job, a purpose. It gave him some sort of... well.... meaning. Life was a little less pointless when he had some sort of task he had to complete before laying down to bed again. The monotony of his days had been numbing. Shit... not last week he spent hours staring off into the far icy shores. Just watching. Just seeing how the sleepy flows ebbed and flowed on the ocean that served as Espen's grave. So he started to patrol, unwilling to sink deeper into the sedentary lifestyle he'd somehow found himself in.

Quad wings hardly had to beat to keep him aloft here. The winds were ever present, gushing the crisp mountain air in over the peaks as it was drawn from the sea. Sometimes when he was high enough he could still smell the last bit of salt in the air before it dissipated, crinkling his nostrils uncomfortably. But today it wasn't the sting of sea salt on his nares that had it wrinkling, but the metallic tang of blood. Fresh, too. Skaug instinctively adjusted his wings so lower in him a slow, arching descent. His ghostly gaze of quadruple quartz peered through the trees and roved over the field clearings. The last touches of summer were fading, and with it brought the red kisses of fall. But not all the crimson was autumnal.

The distance at which he spied the male was great. He was prowling forward, but the still mile or so between them blurred whether it was out of tire or malice. But the answer needn't wait long. Before Skaug could get close enough to stop anything, the intruder struck at a mare lingering in the field. Whatever doubt the bay pegasus had for his character was inevitably burned at the stake. What filled Skaug was not rage... no... nor was it any semblance of anger. But it burned hot and adrenaline poured into his veins as he drew his massive wings in and jettisoned himself from the skies and down towards the offender. The winds howled in his audits as Dael whipped by in slow motion; greens, blues, grey... they all melted together in a smear of a brush stroke that held no detail at all. The only thing he saw was the blood riddled monster.

He couldn't be left. He must be dealt with. And while Skaug wasn't a man of servitude, while he hadn't bound his strength to the will of a king, he knew he couldn't turn away from this spontaneous tragedy. What if it had been Sariel? Or Nevermore? Anyone, for the matter. It didn't matter who.

The air buffeted him as Skaug drew upon the male, but rather than land he let the weight and aerodynamics of his quickened descent power an attack. At the last second he threw a cascade of sepia feathers open. It jerked him back, as if a parachute, but the weight and momentum fell into his hinds: which which locked and extended, aimed to strike and land on the murderous invader.


W C: 537
T A G: Leshen
M U S E: 3/5
V O I C E: Jeffrey Dean Morgan
O O C: oof not as good as I wanted but i'm excited


YOU ARE A MURDERER
NO MATTER HOW BELOVED
powerplay allowed
within reasonable limits!
Tag: @[Skaug]