x
zxxxxxxxxxxx›⊱ˊ ─ 𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐔𝐒 ⋅.━xxzxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
zxxxxxxxxxxxxzxxx ( rank: beta) . ( bio ) . ( location: outside healers den --> densite) . ( tags: open ! ) . ( mutation: echolocation )
.
x
zxxxxxxxxxxx›⊱ˊ ─ 𝐒𝐘𝐁𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄 ⋅.━xxzxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
zxxxxxxxxxxxxzxxx ( rank: scout) . ( bio ) . ( location: xxx ) . ( tags: open ! ) . ( mutation: bio-luminescent markings)
.
x
zxxxxxxxxxxx›⊱ˊ ─ 𝐉𝐔𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐇 ⋅.━xxzxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
zxxxxxxxxxxxxzxxx ( rank: initiate) . ( bio ) . ( location: xxx ) . ( tags: open ! ) . ( mutation: yet to evolve )
.
zxxxxxxxxxxx›⊱ˊ ─ 𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐔𝐒 ⋅.━xxzxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
zxxxxxxxxxxxxzxxx ( rank: beta) . ( bio ) . ( location: outside healers den --> densite) . ( tags: open ! ) . ( mutation: echolocation )
.
Moments like these, rich with secrets, were irresistibly seductive to Arcturus. Forbidden knowledge was his favored delicacy. Born thin, gaunt, and shadowy, he had mastered the power of secrets. Muscles were unnecessary when words cut deeper than fangs.
The Beta was thoroughly entrenched in the sweet temptation of power. The only way to rid oneself of temptation is to yield to it, and yield he did. Consumed by it, he sacrificed many relationships. But he had new companions now: Jealousy, that green-eyed monster, mocked the very flesh it fed on. In this case, Arcturus himself.
His thin ears tuned into the illicit symphony of a conversation never meant for him. Each word pierced his pride, unraveling the delicate fabric of his composure, each phrase a corrosive drop of acid etching away at his fragile patience.
“Abraxas,” he mouthed, the name slithering off his tongue with a serpent’s disdain. A precursor to taking his place? How laughably naive. His unkempt claws curled into fists, piercing his own flesh, knuckles blanching—a subconscious reaction to Tienen’s words.
And Eliza, he mused, entitlement dripping from his thoughts, his ego swelling greedily. A dynamic untested? What a farce. He needed no partner, silently demanding undivided reverence. He was the apex, not a piece to be paired with another.
Each bitter thought spiraled into a dark vortex of resentment. He had clawed his way through the mire of deceit and subterfuge, yet he stood here, still deemed unworthy. It worsened with each new contender he confronted. Maverick? Loaded with contempt, he scoffed. A potential replacement? That whelp lacked the backbone to tame the unruly. And Amalie? Elevating her would only ferment discontent, breeding chaos in her wake.
A mirthless chuckle bubbled up, cold, sharp, and impatient. A terrible time to be unbalanced, indeed. But equilibrium is not bestowed; it is seized by those with the audacity to grasp it. And Arcturus had the audacity, alright.
With this resolve, his eyes narrowed into thin serpent slits, twin pools of gluttony—the deadliest of the seven sins—burning with a dangerous determination. If they could not see his worth, he would carve it into their consciousness. He would compel them to recognize that he was their leader, not merely in name, but in the very marrow of their bones.
Creeping from his hidden vantage, his path etched stark against his ambitions, he would not suffer the indignity of a beta’s role, nor allow another to usurp what destiny had marked as his own. Each step he took was a stride into a growing longing. If he was forced to do hellish things, let them be hellish. No more false heavens, no more damned politics. He and Tienen—let the game begin.
The time had come to seize his fate, to wrest from the shadows the mantle of leadership that was his by right, by strength, by unrelenting will.
.
The Beta was thoroughly entrenched in the sweet temptation of power. The only way to rid oneself of temptation is to yield to it, and yield he did. Consumed by it, he sacrificed many relationships. But he had new companions now: Jealousy, that green-eyed monster, mocked the very flesh it fed on. In this case, Arcturus himself.
His thin ears tuned into the illicit symphony of a conversation never meant for him. Each word pierced his pride, unraveling the delicate fabric of his composure, each phrase a corrosive drop of acid etching away at his fragile patience.
“Abraxas,” he mouthed, the name slithering off his tongue with a serpent’s disdain. A precursor to taking his place? How laughably naive. His unkempt claws curled into fists, piercing his own flesh, knuckles blanching—a subconscious reaction to Tienen’s words.
And Eliza, he mused, entitlement dripping from his thoughts, his ego swelling greedily. A dynamic untested? What a farce. He needed no partner, silently demanding undivided reverence. He was the apex, not a piece to be paired with another.
Each bitter thought spiraled into a dark vortex of resentment. He had clawed his way through the mire of deceit and subterfuge, yet he stood here, still deemed unworthy. It worsened with each new contender he confronted. Maverick? Loaded with contempt, he scoffed. A potential replacement? That whelp lacked the backbone to tame the unruly. And Amalie? Elevating her would only ferment discontent, breeding chaos in her wake.
A mirthless chuckle bubbled up, cold, sharp, and impatient. A terrible time to be unbalanced, indeed. But equilibrium is not bestowed; it is seized by those with the audacity to grasp it. And Arcturus had the audacity, alright.
With this resolve, his eyes narrowed into thin serpent slits, twin pools of gluttony—the deadliest of the seven sins—burning with a dangerous determination. If they could not see his worth, he would carve it into their consciousness. He would compel them to recognize that he was their leader, not merely in name, but in the very marrow of their bones.
Creeping from his hidden vantage, his path etched stark against his ambitions, he would not suffer the indignity of a beta’s role, nor allow another to usurp what destiny had marked as his own. Each step he took was a stride into a growing longing. If he was forced to do hellish things, let them be hellish. No more false heavens, no more damned politics. He and Tienen—let the game begin.
The time had come to seize his fate, to wrest from the shadows the mantle of leadership that was his by right, by strength, by unrelenting will.
.
x
zxxxxxxxxxxx›⊱ˊ ─ 𝐒𝐘𝐁𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄 ⋅.━xxzxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
zxxxxxxxxxxxxzxxx ( rank: scout) . ( bio ) . ( location: xxx ) . ( tags: open ! ) . ( mutation: bio-luminescent markings)
.
Last Post: Waiting for a few more to respond :)
x
zxxxxxxxxxxx›⊱ˊ ─ 𝐉𝐔𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐇 ⋅.━xxzxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
zxxxxxxxxxxxxzxxx ( rank: initiate) . ( bio ) . ( location: xxx ) . ( tags: open ! ) . ( mutation: yet to evolve )
.
Last Post: Waiting for a few more to respond :)
.