[~Teya~]

DAYUM, this bab is gorgeous!

[Imagine_Ink]

Username;; The Dragon Collector
Name;; Damien
Gender;; Male
Biological Gender;; Male

Prompt Answer:: Wip

[Matreats]

Marking!
Username;; Matreats
Name;;
Gender;; Male
What do they know that they shouldn't? or how did they get to their current situation (or both!) (600 word minimum)

[lysander]

mark!

[kamelgirl]

possible mark <3

[cyberdragon725]

Username;; cyberdragon725
Name;; Fenrir
Gender;; Male

Fenrir is a viscet who always seems to be waiting for something. He's calm and quiet, almost always thinking and pondering. His mind is never silent, always rushing through the possibilities of what could be and understanding the people he finds through his travels. He's a rather pessimistic viscet, finding it difficult to look towards the brighter side of things. After all, having grown up within the darkness, he hardly recognizes that the light exists. He's a very prideful cet, confident in his own abilities yet humbled in accepting when he's defeated. He despises those that act stronger than others, hating when they try to control him. Fenrir will never hesitate to put them in their place, verbally or physically.

Raised by the darkness, Fenrir is feared by many. He's a bit strange, never speaking unless absolutely necessary and has far different views on the world for many. He has received many names during his long life, several examples being 'The Reaper', 'The Judge', and the most famous one, 'The Devourer'. When Fenrir travels, he leaves behind a trail of death. A curse on his being causes him to drain all light around him, the light of hope and the light of life being most prominent. Fenrir hates this nickname, though he knows it tells the reason for why he was created. For in conclusion, Fenrir is the reaper and the judge. He is the beast born to devour the gods.

I Want To Live - Skillet

Fenrir rarely found others that viewed the world in a way so similar to himself. Asher was to him, a diamond in the rough. He had heard rumors of the shadow queen during the reign of the guardians yet never met her until the demoness had been summoned. Even then, the first part of Asher he met was the broken portion of her cell, a phanomesque spirit without the armor that sought to reunite with the shell that once was her. One day he asked her, "Why is it that you seek to return to the life you had before?" She showed no hesitation to turn to him, her spirit shining dim. "You misunderstand, my friend. It's death that I seek." Fenrir's eyes lit with amusement. It was death that she sought and the bringer of death that she found. He laughed at the irony. From then on the two would make a deal. She would join him on his travels, hoping that one day they would stumble across her physical form and destroy the armor which kept it there. In return she agreed to keep him company, allowing him some respite from the cycle of continual death which burdened him. At least that was the plan until she returned to her body. That was the day that everything would change.

Angelica is a viscet that Fenrir has grown to greatly despise over the years. Her continual abuse of her power, her attitude of superiority are traits that he really hates. Sometimes he greatly regrets the fact that it was his power which gave her the ability to resurrect herself. He wonders how he ever saw himself in her eyes, weak and young, abandoned by the world during their first life. Still, he looks into her eyes and he knows why he did it. She has the same desire for strength that he had, a thirst for power. Unlike him, however, she refuses to abide by the balance. She lives in the shadows, taking the lives of others while fearing the loss of her own. One day, he knows he will be tasked to collect her soul and on that day he knows he will show no mercy to the other.

These two are probably the only demons that Fenrir finds he can actually tolerate. Khandura cares little about the when his death will come or how his life is lived. His overconfidence and pride in himself can sometimes be seen as irritating to Fenrir but what he lacks in humility, he makes up in loyalty to those he respects. This means he's one of the only viscets brave enough to stand up against Hell's Angel, one of the main reasons why he holds such a low rank among demons. Still, he's plenty content with his current position amongst the ranks, unlike Pallas. Pallas is the grandson of a devil who lives on a land conquered by the demons that live there. He left knowing he was never going to inherit his grandfather's throne as there were too many others ahead of him. Instead, he planned to conquer a world of his own. Fenrir greatly respects the ambitions of the other but that is not the reason he finds himself drawn to the young prince. Pallas understands the balance of light and dark, respecting the boundaries of this world and he knows that though darkness rules, there will always be light to conquer it. It's this respect that Pallas has for life that causes Fenrir to respect him. He knows that Pallas has been biding his time for a very long while, waiting for first the shadow queen to be dethroned and now biding his time for the fall of the demoness. His patience will one day pay off, of this Fenrir is certain.

Story title
What do they know that they shouldn't? or how did they get to their current situation (or both!) (600 word minimum)
Fear. A feeling which seems to control even the strongest of warriors. Nations have fallen for fear of another and years have been wasted because of possibilities. Rather than facing the world head-on, so many choose to hide in the darkness, bide their time and wait for an opportunity. They shun the light, yes, but in their world of shadows, they will never comprehend the strength of the darkness and no one knows the dark better than him.

His life was not a simple one. From the start, it felt as if things were going wrong. As a child, he was seen as a freak, a weakling in a world where only the strongest survive. Dragons sought to enslave his kind and use their forces against the armies of the wolves. He remembers the day the dragons appeared at his home, his parents abandoning the viscling in order to escape and leaving the child to his fate. He remembers fighting the best he could and ultimately failing. The dragons were merciless. He was too young for them to take and too weak to be of use on the battlefield so they too abandoned him, weakening him and leaving him to face death. The visling found himself filled with hate. He despised the parents who abandoned him, hated the dragons who left him for dead, but most of all he found he was most angry at himself. He was too weak, too small to fight back. With this knowledge in his mind, he found his heartbeat slowing. Death stood nearby, waiting for his soul to pass. Still, he fought to stay alive, pushing against the path which was inevitable. Death watched with bated breath as the child seemed to fight against his wounds even though he had nothing left to fight for. "Why, little one? Why do you fight so?" The breathy voice of death was a whisper on the wind yet, despite its quietness he easily heard it. He found a supernatural strength seemed to fill him temporarily, allowing him to respond to the spirit. The viscling looked towards the darkness, trying to seek the face of the voices but he could find none. Still, he spoke confidently. "I do not fear death, though others may. Death is inevitable. However, I simply seek the strength to see what is true and for those who work seek too much power to be humbled in their weaknesses." Death, shocked by such a response from a young one, chose to take form. The viscling watched as a crow emerged from the shadows. "You show great knowledge for some with so little years. I have the strength you seek. All you need do is to accept the burden of the darkness. Should you join me, you will be tasked with the position of judgment. The world requires balance and there are those who seek to defy it. Are you willing to uphold the task of the devourer?"

Looking back, he sometimes wonders if he made the correct choice. His body was restored but not the same as before. Instead, ferocious horns began growing from his pelt. A test to see if he would fear the change. He did not fear it, rather he embraced the strength which filled his being and the power which stemmed from the darkness itself. Still, he was too young to understand the repercussions which would soon fall. The burden of immortality and the responsibilities of the reaper, he was the one born to lead others to ruin. Wrapped in his desire for vengeance, he saw to the destruction of the dragons by creating those who would bring chaos. He formed the shadows in which the demons would soon roam. Out of these shadows, he saw the first demoness... Angelica. Born to her family as an angel, he watched as she, like him, was left alone and on the verge of death. Such a sense of pity filled him that he gave the demoness the same chance as he, a new life. A life which she put to well use, twisting and corrupting the prideful minds of the dragons he sought to destroy so that they would tear themselves apart. He watched silently as his parents were killed, slain with a village of viscets where the lone survivor was a small wolf-like viscet. He remembered when he collected their souls, freeing his parents from their physical forms so they could face his judgment. At first, his father didn't recognize him but as soon as his mother met his eyes, she knew. Despite the horns and eyes that reflected death, she could sense the gentle soul of her small son. She wept for him that day, icy tears falling for the one who fell to darkness. That was the first time he felt it, regret. Pushing his feelings aside, he closed himself in and carried out his responsibilities. One day he knew he would see them again. After all, death is inevitable... or so he thought.

Milena had passed since that day. He watched the downfall of his enemies with a content smirk, casting them to the pits of Tartarus with a sensation of glee knowing his work had not been in vain. Still, with peace in their lives came peace in deaths. He no longer had to stand before a battlefield or watch as families were destroyed. Rather, he watched as others died with contentment, surrounded by a family that he will never truly know. One day, he found himself resting outside a woodland cottage, the full moon shining brightly against his back as he looked over the home of an elderly couple where a husband bid farewell to his mate. He heard the fluttering of feathers and bowed his head in greeting to his old friend. "Do you ever long for more?" He spoke softly, waiting for the time to come for him to claim another soul. The crow's eyes looked down at him, no sense of aggression rather simple curiosity. "Do you regret your decision, devourer?" Softly the voice echoed. He shook his head in response. "I would be a fool to regret that which cannot change. Rather, I can't help but wonder what will come in the future." The crow seemed content with his answer, feathers ruffling quietly. "We carry a strong burden, my friend however one that is crucial. After all, life cannot exist without death just as death cannot exist without life. We stand outside the cycle, living yet not dying however cursed with the death which surrounds us. With so much death in our lives, one day we will find the peace that it carries and on that day we will be freed from our burdens, passing down the responsibility to the next worthy of such a task. Be patient, young one. Even the night has its end."

Time showed no sympathy for him. Years would pass with him in his loneliness, watching as everywhere he walked death would follow. His choice had become seemingly more than a burden. It had become a curse. So familiar with death he was that even the smallest step onto bright green grass would cause the plant to wither. Trees would lose their leaves as he passed. The crow did its best to help, being the only creature he could come into contact with however the crow itself lacked to emotion to really show compassion. He tried to look to the bright side, the crow told him that this was a sign of the nearing end of his burden, but how could he possibly see the bright side when he lives in the darkness?

Not Gonna Die - Skillet

[Harley_skyy]

Mark, never tried for a Viscet before but always wanted to! Might enter if I have the time c:

[JessKnight]

Username;; JessKnight
Name;; Scy (Like the beginning of Scythe)
Gender;; Demiboy (AMAB) [He/Him or They/Them]
What do they know that they shouldn't? or how did they get to their current situation (or both!);;
Since Scy was young, he knew loss. He lost his mother before he knew her, lost his father
before he was a teen, lost his friends when he went mad, lost his mind when he was alone.
They had known loss since birth. So when they finally lost their mind, it wasn't a surprise.
It was inevitable.
He pushed away his cares, pushed away his feelings, pushed everyone and everything he loved away.
What's the point of keeping things around when you know you're gonna lose them anyway?
He pushed himself to the edge, pushed and pushed a little more, pushed till he almost fell
Then he pulled back. He pulled back and watched those who came running fall in his place.
He liked it.
He shouldn't have liked it, but from his tail to his nose, he liked it.
Liked watching those who cared for him fall.
So they did it again.
And again.
And again.
Until they stopped running for him, and started running away.
And he followed them.
He'd follow them to the other side and chase them off the edge oncemore.
It was a game.
He'd felt the loss, shouldn't others?
Maybe not.
But it made the pain go away.
So he kept going.
Until he was alone. Again.
It wasn't fair.
He deserved a break, how could they cut him off?
So he let himself fall.
And he joined the many he had made fall.
And still... it felt good.
And so, they made a deal with the devil. They get to continue feeling free
And he'll get more to fall.
That's how he became this way.
Because it
felt
Good.
(248/600)

[RadioactiveRenegade]

Mark to watch!

[~Demonyxi~]

Mark to enter

Edit:
Username; ~Kanine~
Name; Norrix
Gender; Female
What do they know that they shouldn't? or how did they get to their current situation (or both!) (600 word minimum):

The mystery of her brothers disappearance haunted her every night for a year. She barely got any sleep, she got fired from her job and she dropped out of school. The lack of sleep caused her to constantly be late to work and her grades to fall as she tossed and turned in her bed every night. Sometimes she would wake up in a cold sweat, her heart pounding and her breath uneasy. On some nights that she couldn't even try to fall asleep, she would search every inch of the web to find any hint or clue as to what happened in the forest that fateful night.

October 31, one year ago. Norrix's brother, Siris decided to go camping with a few of his friends out in the woods beyond the city. He had begged her to go with but she had too much homework to do so she brushed him off. He and is friends went off and camped out in the woods, but by morning, none of them had returned. Days went by, then weeks, then months. The police had given up the search by then and the case had gone cold.

Norrix couldn't leave her house to get food or anything because the missing posters strung up all over town tormented her. She couldn't focus.

Now almost a year later, there was a clue. Sightings of a strange figure around the edge of the woods were logged from all arrays of years. It looked to be partial human, part animal, and even more so part death and decay. She clicked on the image and ran a search to find more information about it. There was a ton of more pictures on the creature but no information except a name and description. "Wendigo" she read out loud and clicked on a link titled '12 Terrifying Facts About The Wendigo And Its Dark History'. She shook her head in disbelief. This thing couldn't exist, its just some Native American folklore...right? But something at the back of her mind thought differently so she continued to read. She came across a few more pictures, this time much clearer images. She gasped and rushed off to the local police station.

She sat outside in her car for an hour. She couldn't tell them that what had happened to her brother was a mythological beast. She would for sure be sent to a psychiatric hospital on terms of insanity. So instead she drove to the entrance of the woods, maybe she could find proof or something that could give her peace of mind to her brothers disappearance. It was still midday when she went in, grabbing a flashlight and her backpack full of snacks and her survival kit. She didn't know what she was going to find so she grabbed her survival knife as well just in case.

She inhaled deeply and made her way into the thick forest. Hours had passed and she still found and heard nothing. The forest was silent. Too silent. A chill went up her spine, it was eerily quiet. She suddenly tripped on an uprooted tree root that she had failed to see and began to tumble down a steep hill. She hit her head on a boulder and blacked out.

She awoke later as the sun was setting, her head spun and he leg throbbed in pain. She reached down and her knife had become unsheathed, stabbing deep into her leg. She didn't panic, there was plenty of emergency bandages for this type of stuff in her survival kit which was in her backpack. One problem, where was the bag? she looked around and found her flashlight by her foot. She looked up the steep hill, her bag was stuck on a tree a good few feet up. Great. She grabbed the flashlight and tore off a part of her sleeve, she could manage to make a temporary bandage out of it. She propped herself up on the boulder to get a better angle. She shined the flashlight on her leg, the knife still stuck in it. She yanked it out and bandaged her leg.

She took a breather and then looked around, there were old, dirty backpacks and clothes all around her and piles of bones to her right. She got chills again and decided she needed to get out of there pronto. The sun started to go down even faster and the forest grew dark. She shined her flashlight in front of her as she made her way out of the trench. She froze in her tracks. A deep huff of hot air blow onto the back of her head. She slowly turned around.

Looming 3 feet above her was a beast. Its body was a mix of human and beast, its face was the skull of a wolf, and it had big fluffy wolf ears, deer antlers, and a wolfs tail. There were no eyes that she could see, only glowing yellow dots that blinked. a string of feathers were tied to one of its antlers and droll dripped from his teeth, falling to the ground. It stood up taller and grabbed her by the shirt. It pulled Norrix close to its "face", deeply inhaled and then roared a deep blood curling roar in her face, splashing saliva all over her, she screamed. It stopped, staring intensely at her, it sniffed. It put her gently on the ground. Not yet letting her go, it placed a long claw up to its mouth and made a creepy whispered shushing sound at her and then vanished into the night.

Her heart pounded in her chest and she hurried back to her car outside the forest. Eyes watching her the entire way. She drove home and vowed never to tell anyone what she had seen for she feared what the beast would do to if she did. She knew the beast wanted her to keep its secret and fearing her life, she promised to keep it.

Yellow eye watch her through the windows of her house every night. She always felt those cold eye on her everywhere she goes and now the secret of the wendigo will follow her to her grave. (1,038 words)