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Post by Picasso on Aug 8, 2013 14:16:35 GMT
leviathenIn the midst of winter, a lone lion trudged through the heavy snow. His head was bent low to shield himself in the storm as he looked about for shelter. The suburbs were devoid of any life as he walked with sodden paws. Flecks of snowflakes were scattered through his shaggy, tawny mane. Denim involuntarily shivered from the cold as he blinked up at the sky for a few seconds. Squinting, all he could see were the dark grey clouds shrouding the sky. The storm had started an hour ago, and didn't appear to be letting up anytime soon. Denim had been busy hunting when the snow begun to fell. He had groaned in exhaustion and tiredly turned around to find shelter. Nobody wanted to be stranded in a snowstorm like this. Already a couple of inches had formed, masking Denim's old pawprints.
The school appeared in the distance, and Denim ploughed on. All he needed was to get out of the bitter chill of the air. His coat was sodden through, and he just needed to get dry and warm up. If he didn't get there soon, he would succumb to hypothermia. The lion gritted his teeth in frustration. The snow was making his movements sluggish and tiresome. Bowing his head again, Denim continued. The wind howled like a pack of wolves in the distance. For a slow, foolish moment, Denim believed he was being hunted by a pack, but it was his mind playing tricks on him. "Don't be stupid, He muttered, teeth chattering, "No one is here.
It took many, slow minutes to reach the comfort of the school. With the windows smashed and broken, Denim wasn't actually that sheltered from the wind. However, at least he was free from the snow and could finally warm up. Choosing a classroom, Denim curled up in the corner, trying to will his shivers away. He gazed up at the room, surveying his surroundings. The desks were rotten and dusty, with the wallpaper peeling away to reveal mould and damp. Outside, a tree was scratching against the glass from the wind, making an unbearably annoying noise. Sighing, Denim rested his head against his two front paws and closed his eyes.
The lion begun to doze as he waited to warm up. His dreams were filled with confusing images. An hour must have passed as Denim was startled awake from his nightmare. Controlling his breathing, Denim looked around to ensure there was no one about to attack him. He couldn't remember the specifics of the nightmare, but he could remember his mother being there, with blood-red eyes and an insane grin. Denim shuddered. Florence had been dead years, and yet she still haunted his mind. Denim tested his strength as he clambered to his paws. He was still cold, but nowhere near as freezing as before. Letting out a sigh of relief, he started to stalk the corridors. He was stuck here until the snowstorm ended, which meant he may as well roam the building he was in and see if he could find anything interesting.
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Post by Deleted on Aug 9, 2013 0:06:46 GMT
How she admired the silence. The stillness of the wind, the absence of peril, the stillness in one's breath. It was often the signs of such things that indicated that danger was nearby. She relished in the thought. While others took bravely into fearing the Unknown. -She welcomed it. It was a new challenge, something for her to take her boredom out upon. To occupy her and her often quick-to-jump-to-new things mind.
She had traveled a long way to get here, and being from the tropical south, this was not her climate. Her thin coat was covered in frost that normally wouldn't protect her from this troublesome chill that was bothersome in every way. The pads on her paws were stiff and growing numb, and her less protected under areas tingling to get warm. Her eyes bright and filled with curiosity, her ears forward and on a swivel as her jet black form transgressed through the streets of an unknown concrete jungle. So this was the place that she was looking for? - This was what the Raven had spoken of, this was the site of what was once a human city, where the fate of feline and canine lives were at stake. She didn't even want to coincide as to what was going to happen if either side failed. Deep within the roots of her character and being, part of her already knew.
Many things would catch her eyes, from the poles that supported long black vines with lights attached to them, to the metal boxes that she had seen the humans back home drive in. Though her feet were tired and weary, her eyes filled with much exhaustion, and her breath manifested before her as a thin wholly cloud, there was always times to learn new things, meet new friends, and make new foes. Such was the way of the Jaguar.
But when the cold really did begin to get to her, only then did she decide that it was time to seek shelter. Scents flooded her nose, but it was a musk that drove her interest, and odors that deterred her curiosity. But one in particular drew her attention, and as her eyes followed the trail of the wind, she found her standing before a building. The snow was getting deeper, her visibility getting poorer. At once she made her way up the stone steps, her shadow stretching along the flooring as she pushed her way through the heavy doors, light pouring into the darkness that lay beyond the mouth of the unknown.
She didn't know what to think at first. After all, this had to have been the first time she had ever stepped foot into a human structure. It sent many sensations down her spine, all to familiar expressions that she had experienced during the days of which when she was a cub -the pressing circumstances of curiosity and fear. Curiosity would push her forward, fear would pull her back. It was ongoing, unceasing, repeating over and over and over again.
But in these lone and cold hallways, she felt very much fear, but that didn't mean that she didn't keep herself prepared. He claws, after all - were well maintained, many trees beyond that heavy door now bore her mark. But alas, she once more came face to face with that inspiring scent that drew her forward. That lured her in like bait. That drew deep within the roots of her character, the very fiber that had molded her very being, that called to her instincts, that manifested itself as a gripping hand that had within it's very possession a power greater than her own; that clenched the deeps of her nature and tugged the threads of control. She found herself following it, her pace quickening, her heart rate increasing with each stride, her shadow slinking down along the walls as she passed by the windows, their beams of dusty light raining down on the floor as her form passed by the doors, moving with rapid haste and no time to check things out. Her eyes searching, her ears side to side as she glanced in and out of the rooms, each step padding through the empty halls that had once been crowded with human life with a reverberating pat amongst the ceramic tile.
It was a strange feeling, one that she had never felt before, it drew in the deeps of her feminine nature, captivated her interest, aroused feelings within her that she had never felt before. Yes, she was in season. No, she had never been with another male. But this scent that was drawing her into whatever strange and unpredictable environment was enough to place her primal instincts active, and her body was responding with messages of it's own.
And then she stopped. A shadow caught her attention, one that didn't belong. A grin stretches from cheek to cheek, and her dark form steps inside. Frost runs from her mouth as her heart rushes through her chest at 175 beats per minute, her tail lifts, and she steps inside, eager to test him for everything that he was worth. Instincts within her screamed for her to establish a connection, both mental and physical. Her lower areas grew wet with anticipation, yearning for her to fulfill a role that needed fulfilling. The voice of lust crawled within her veins and through each and every nerve within her body. But just who was this creature that they were asking her to connect to? She would see.
"Now..." her voice sounded with a flirtatious purr that came from deep within her lungs, "this is a site you don't see each and every day." |
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Post by Picasso on Aug 12, 2013 11:59:23 GMT
Denim had been drifting through the empty classrooms, idly gazing at the long-since used objects. Humans had been something Denim had been brought up with. Whilst he had not been born whilst they were alive, he'd seen their mighty structures in the city, towering above their heads. He could never fathom how the human race had become so mighty, and yet had fallen so far. A long time ago, Denim had been told that cats and dogs had once been pets to humans, and lions like himself had been locked away in cages. Denim had been astounded, of course. Why had the animals all bowed down and conformed to such cruel humans? It sounded bizarre to him. But they knew no different. It was all so clear. Humans had manipulated animals into believing that would be their life, and animals had not argued. At least, not until the humans perished and they realised the true meaning of life.
The large lion stepped onto a desk and gazed out at the shrieking wind outside. He was just beginning to warm up, his body no longer wracked with shivered. Just as Denim was about to relax, a scent suddenly jolted him. With sharp eyes, he looked at the doorway. There was no exit but that door. He hesitated, unsure whether the other feline in the school was hostile. The scent was dim and he struggled to work out what alliance they were part of. He jumped off the desk and begun to approach the door, wondering whether he should flee than be caught in a possible fight. However, just as he was about the leave, an ebony, large feline glided through the door, eyes fixated on his. Stunned, Denim took an involuntary step back, suddenly choked by her invasive scent.
Her words were lilted with flirtation, and Denim cocked his head in confusion. A desperate cat? Raking his eyes up and down the large panther, he drank in her appearance. She was big, much like Denim. Snow flecked her black fur. She must have come in to find shelter - and something else? Whatever it was she wanted, Denim wasn't prepared to give it to her. A quick shag was something Denim wasn't interested in, no matter how lonely he was. Denim had fallen in love once before, and it had hurt. Not to mention, it had been a dog. And Natiri had left him after realising they'd become too close, and Denim was once again alone. He sighed wearily, and stared into the feline's piercing gaze.
"You're not from around here," He stated after a moment's silence. Her scent wasn't of Hexasol, or of any pack. She smelled foreign and strange, "What on Earth would bring you to this shithole, the centre of hell?" Denim had considered leaving this place hundreds of times before, but there was something frightening about the unknown. Few outsiders arrived in Hexasol, and he had never ventured further than the outlands. He heard hyenas roamed the outskirts of the city, waiting for any animal to pass their threshold. He wondered if any other cities bore wars like this one. Denim was so young, and yet he was so tired of this endless war.
"Denim." He supplied without waiting for her to ask the question. Rocking back onto his haunches, Denim watched the stranger with curiosity and wariness. |
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Post by leviathen on Feb 5, 2014 7:43:11 GMT
She had been born of the southern climate in the under reaches of the world, lived a life where every day depended on one's will to hunt. Where not -mercy could be shown, and where hesitation could kill. In the world she came from, one's life wasn't measured by how tall they were or how long their claws were. Life was measured by the number of years upon them, and that knowing that each and every day lived was another life that had been taken on a daily basis. This was the world that she had come to know, and this was the way things had always been. From the hunt, to the kill, to the very flash point that ended with the resolution of a life to end -this was her way, and nothing about that was ever going to change.
But what if she did seek change? What if she strove to be taken care of rather than living each day hunting for the next meal, or hoping for the next monkey to fall from its tree, or the tapir that was too unwary to pay attention, or perhaps, the snake that was too slow to get away? Even Leviathen, the jaguar, would grow tired of things, and when word and whispers came to her -telling her that her kind were fighting for their very survival, of course she needed the change of scenery, perhaps to locate a new life style. Leviathen had always been keen on adapting to situations as they presented themselves before her, but this was... this was far different than what she presumed to be adaptation.
This was something else, and she knew not the word to say to describe it. But even from a long and weary journey that it took for her to come here, she never knew it to be in the dead of winter. And coming from her climate, it took a toll on a body that was accustomed to the humid jungles of the southern forest. But despite the many chemical on-goings that were flooding through her, and the strident pound of a lonely heart, she only glared forward, eyes as piercing as could be, with a heart that drove everything forward. If there was one thing that would never change, it was the attraction to the opposite sex. And of course, despite the fact that she had been tired and exhausted from many long miles of walking, to the few meals that she had eaten, her seasonal flowering couldn't have come at a worse time.
And as time stood still, as she gazed into the eyes of the lion that stood before her, masculine as they could ever come, she felt the very chill down her back in the manner of a dagger forged from ice, her blood ran cold, he was a massive beast, fairly larger than herself, but that didn't matter to her. "You're not from around here," was his introduction, which had been previously retorted with a sigh. "What gave you the first hint?" she said with a smirk, one ear fell flat as she looked him over, "What on Earth would bring you to this shithole, the centre of hell?" - she took a moment to pause, -she smiled, "Believe me when I say, you haven't seen hell." she stated strongly as she glared at the lion before her, "But if you must know," she added with a note of firmness in her voice, "Perhaps I was just tired of hearing others tell me what I could and couldn't do." she confessed through grim determination, her eyes shifted down to the floor that laid before her paws. ]"They always did say that I would never make it, that I would never survive the long walk, or the long days without the jungle," She lowered her rear end to the floor beneath her, ]"but, here I am." her eyes drifted off and towards the single window that allowed what little light to pour into the dusty room.
When her eyes returned to what it was that lay before her, she looked up at the lion, "What's your excuse?" she asked him with curiosity, "What's your story?" She wasn't even sure if the lion wanted to even talk to her, his facial expressions made it largely more than clear that he was vastly uninterested in her; both ears pinned to the front when he did speak, a single word, a name, that of which was his calling. She took it in well, "Denim." -it was a name that she wouldn't forget, the first contact she had in many long weeks of walking... the endless walking, the waiting that went on for what had to be a percentage of a lifetime. She smiled at the sound of the name, "I'm Leviathen," she introduced herself, "Some call me Lev, others call me Via. Whichever you prefer, whichever one suits your tastes." she added as she looked at him. "Now, what's a handsome fellow like you doing her all by yourself?" she asked him as she rested her eyes upon him. - I don't know what's going on... it's the same exact code as the one used in the posts above, but for some reason, it keeps on breaking up my table, if you could help me and figure out what's wrong, that would be very much appreciated... I don't use proboards that much, I'm an IPB person, I usually post in html so I'm kind of new to this bb code stuff. D: |
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Post by Picasso on Mar 3, 2014 11:07:28 GMT
Denim felt uneasy. The way she gazed at him hungrily was making his fur prickle. He had no interest in the other feline, but it looked as though she was interested in him. He eyed the door warily, wondering whether he was being utterly pathetic for running from a female. Perhaps Denim had misread the signals. After all, he was unaccustomed to other company. He rarely stayed with strangers for long, and he struggled to understand their body language. If anything, Denim probably found it easier to read a dog's body language than a cat's. Denim refrained from snickering at the thought. Many felines would be disgusted to know Denim once had a canine best friend. Besides, she was not coming back now. There was no point in mentioning it to others. The large lion sighed wistfully as he thought of his long lost friend, Natiri. He missed her dearly. Heart thumbing in his ribs, Denim averted his attention back to the panther.
"Your scent," Denim replied smoothly, "Hexasol cats don't smell like you do. You have barely ventured into the heart of the city yet, have you?" He was not a cocky lion, but a scent told you a lot of a character. It made Denim relax, that she was not part of the Iris Pride (not yet). She was still fresh and new to the city. She still had a chance to turn and leave. "Perhaps there are places worse than Hexasol," Denim agreed, "But I have yet to discover them. All I know is Hexasol," He shrugged and looked into her dark eyes, wondering whether she had come from. Jungle. His ears flicked in interest. Denim had heard very little about jungles. He had heard of animals called monkeys and elephants, stories from distant travellers who had come across such exotic animals. Denim's interest was peaked.
"My story?" Denim scoffed, wondering how much he should condense it down. He desperately wanted to ask about the jungles Lev had spoken of... "I was born the heir to the Iris Pride. They were a pride fighting to win the war against the dogs. I soon realised I had no interest in fighting. I was a coward. My brother became leader of the Iris instead. We hated each other..." Denim trailed off, catching her gaze, "They're all dead now. My family." It was no surprise. No one had a happy story in Hexasol. Everyone knew a victim of the war.
"Pleased to meet you, Lev. Is a lion not allowed to roam the city, alone with his thoughts?"
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