⊰ ❝ oshki-akii ! ❞ → posting open

[just peachy!]

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no one knew of the land oshki-akii, no one will ever know. humans arent
a topic at hand for this place. many races, save for humans, inhabit this
place. chimaera, shapeshifters, angels, you name it. few humanoids, but
many animal species live here that differ greatly from the ones that live
in your world. although many aren't necessarily at good terms, the akaans
lived apart from each other for many centuries, having their own tribes,
cultures and way of life. well, until humans actually did come to this place.

humans destroyed. being creatures of curiosity, they thought that akaans
were so greatly different. but they aren't, and never will be vastly unique
but, humans probably couldn't understand that. and this land turned from
a lush forest to an abandoned, barren prairie is a matter of years.

and of course the akaans group together and create a large tribe.
to fight back, that is.

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[just peachy!]

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when i come around - green day - prologue
universe - ghost town - chapter one
bad company - five finger death punch - chapter two
the boy who blocked his own shot - brand new - chapter three
the ghost of you - my chemical romance - chapter four

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[just peachy!]

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tribe name - race - alliances - enemies

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the aaruk people - lupis saar, werewolf - chimaera - angels
the saariph - lupis saar, werewolf - angels - the aaruk

the haarifk people - sapios alavars, chimaera - the aaruk - angels
the setalos - sapios alavars, chimaera - no allies - the haarifk

the krraosi people - alavars saar, shapeshifters - the saariph - the aaruk

the rynkrou people - sapios malaikh, angels - numerous - no true enemies
the harkos - sapios malaikh, angels - the saariph - most

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[just peachy!]

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it was definitely never in my favor to join the war. my people were always peace keepers a long time ago; even now, some of us don't fight and if we're even involved in the war, its only strictly by helping our own brethren and healing our allies. my name is baros and i am of the harkos tribe. i am an angel. and i don't know anything of this stupid war. humans came here looking for riches and haven't left yet-- nor have they found anything anyways. they wouldn't know where to look. those cursed aaruk dip their antlers and claws in the gold volcanoes they have, that's where they should look. but they don't, and that not my problem anyways.

i just turned of age to enter the war. well, not really. just old enough to leave. basically, i need to do whats right and this seems acceptable. helping comrades on the battle field seems like an accurate description of a task that takes skill. my parents never got to do that. in fact, my grandmother is the only one left alive from my lineage, really. there was an earthquake one night when a group from my tribe went on a hunt, and they've never been seen since.

i live in the mountains. before she went missing, my mother had told me a story, of the moons. the moon julios keeps us from havoc, and the closest you are to her, the better off your tribe is. that's why we settled in the mountains of akos-sarjii, where the moon stare directly down on our heads. and the moon kirba is the sign of destruction. that is opposite of us; in the south, where the aaruk live. and the war is down south; definitely not where i'd want to live. its extremely hot there, and there are lots of volcanoes and pits and springs and geysers.. you see, there are four moons and one sun here. oddly enough, where every base tribe had settled a moon shown over their heads. my tribe isn't a base tribe, but whatever.

currently, im sitting in my home. every immediate family gets a different housing; im living with my grandmother as of now, for she is my closest relative. the harkos isn't a big tribe. we left the rynkrou such a long time ago, and started this tribe-- where we could have our own beliefs over the world. ahh, enough with the story-telling. i need to quit being lazy. in fact, its almost time to go. im getting my shawl, made of mountain-bear hide. which are kind of massive, dark brown bears with bearded manes and curled tan horns that frame their face. they're noble creatures, but id never get close to one. they're bigger than my father's wingspan was, and they're dangerous creatures of the night.

my grandmother just told me i should get going, for the next rank is taking flight soon. i have mixed emotions of this entire thing. but im sure itll be fun along the way. and we should be there by several days, but once we land in the next checkpoint there no turning back. i just don't know. gaios just knocked on the door. gaios has dark, wavy hair. he's probably around the same age as me. ive rarely been out of my house-- as i had to care for my grandmother ever since my parents died, but anyways. he said i need to get ready. well, fare well.

ugh. wish me luck-

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[just peachy!]

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god, i hate everyone. just-- ugh. and i hate this war, and i hate these stupid humans that decided to think we're, rich or something. we're not, go home, leave me. is it that hard?

uhh, my name is something along the lines of jagher setal. hoo hoo, amusing, is it not? im from the setalos tribe of chimaera. i wish i had a tree sprouting out of my head, because im literally a freaking deer thing. my face is mundane, except for my antlers sprouting out of my forehead and my canine eyes. wolfish, perhaps? and my legs taper down to dog legs-- hyena, judging from the wiry, short hair and colouring. what a beautiful variety, no? i don't even like myself, that's how much i hate this world. setalos differ from other chimaera tribes, because we are the only chimaera who have no allies and have all enemies.

cool huh. not really, but that's none of my concern. and i do apologize for being with a sour attitude.. i mean, who could blame someone with a broken leg laying in a burning battlefield, technically just waiting for death? you, probably. im sorry. cant ask for help-- i haven't seen a chimaera around here for lengths, and no one understands chimaeric anyways. so im just readying for death. oh, and don't get me wrong-- i tried signaling someone and the looked at me as if i was insane or something. no chance on that case. trust me, its fun to be laying in a trench with my leg blown off and no one to ask for help. ha.

because i don't want to lose my leg. i might hate my legs but i kinda want to walk and run. id say frolic, but i don't frolic. frolicking is for pansy children like humans. i mean, seriously, im no assassin but really? some human tried to kill me last night by sneak attack. i was sleeping and he missed. hence the cut on my face. you missed my throat, buddy..

anyways, im not so sure on my own case. i lost my weapon, which were some pretty sick dual katanas. ill miss them. speaking of blown off body parts i might be missing an antler! maybe a tree will grow on my face. seriously. god, i need to stop. im a horrible creation. anyways, im kind of in pain and i might need a medic. anytime soon. and, unfortunately i haven't seen any medic or a chimaeric figure, at the least who could ever help me. its pretty here though. if i could move i could find better coverage-- apparently croileaf grows in these forests, and based from my study in herbs that could help my pain. but i cant move. this is fun, sighting out potential solutions to a impossible problem. might as well not even waste my time thinking about things that will make me sad.

invincible jagher, dangerous jagher, all these fun little names people call me. jagher setal, who cant love anyone, because shes a horrible lying weirdo who no one would want to get married to anyways-- itd be like tying a bear to a sheep. right.. okay, well. im tired. and i cant feel my arm, to add on the lists of injuries. and none of them are fatal, which means ill end up dying a slow death of starvation or something because no one is in sight and they'll be collecting their dead in a few days-- probably too long to wait for a wounded person.

wait-- if im not completely mistaken i might have some food. dried pokecherries from the day before. hmm. well, still no water at least. damn it anyways. i mean, i have the worst luck of all. im probably cursed. its okay though, i don't mind. whatever. but if i wasn't cursed maybe, just maybe, id have a tree--

maybe i am insane.

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[peachy keen-]

haven't read the chapters yet but this looks super unique & awesome! i'll definitely be following it! :)

[just peachy!]

haven't read the chapters yet but this looks super unique & awesome! i'll definitely be following it! :)

thank you! c: im in the process of making the second chapter now. x

[just peachy!]

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im sure no one would ever want to hear of how i was killed, brought to life and killed once more. im pretty much dead now, if you will. but forget it. i know of fellow comrades who've been killed thrice times more and still tread on this land. in fact, its a complicated thing to explain. i guess im lucky i come in two forms with twice the life. werewolves, along with shapeshifters are the only living races that have two forms. both kinds have a weird fact, and that is, we don't die as easy. sure, beheading is one thing, but the average wounds a warrior can sustain are bruises and scratches to us.

although im glad of this, it comes with some downsides. you know, like the fact we live for so long. the oldest in my tribe is sixty-- but, apparently that's nothing compared to those damned humans. oh. aerus ital is my name, but most of my friends call me aerus. simplicity at its finest. okay, well.. what else. well, my tribe kinda has a lot of natural enemies. why, you may ask? well, honestly, im not so sure. we just don't like others. we're allies only with the haarifk, basically. with our rules set in stone, its hard to be strict and kind at the same time-- especially when most of your people are at war with one another anyways. in my tribe, little disputes can end in death.

chimaera are our closest. of course, we aren't used to fighting side to side of our enemies, to fight a greater opponent. im eighteen, and ive been fighting this war since i was twelve. the only thing that changed of me was different sizes of the average leathers, which are leggings that are fitted to your entire body, and my short-sword against the whetstone. no, i don't wear anything on my torso. males don't wear guards, whereas females do. and ive no breaks from fighting either. a brief meal prepared my the medics or cooks, depending on which is closer, and a quick rest, and im on my way. being of this everyday schedule is bad for anyones health; and in fact, my brother died from exhaustion in the second month of this hell.

but you get used to it. eventually your body will wear out, though. youll die, and you'll have a chance to be reincarnated off the fields-- but that depends on what shape your soul has been in. a fresh warrior on the field would make a better subject then a warrior of thirty years old, who battled all his life and had been reincarnated thrice before. what it takes, you may ask? the full hide of desired animal. this only works for shapeshifters and werewolves. sadly, chimaerans, angels and any other race doesn't get any form of afterlife. besides death, that is. but it undermines your soul, every year of living and time of reincarnation. like a spider's web slowly falling apart.

and i kinda wish it wasn't like that. like chimaera, we sometimes have arranged marriages. if a higher rank werewolf fancies you, they might make a deal. but, even then, most don't even have to be enforced-- for everyone wants to trade your ugly leathers for some better clothes, i know. most of the time both of the couple would be out fighting anyways. but me, ive fell in love before.

and after that progress of events, everything fell out. seriously, i met this girl on the battle fields, okay? she was in some small tribe that rarely anyone would care about. her family was killed by humans and she was avenging. and i tried to keep out of her way. and yes, i was attracted to her then. but it wasn't until we both got injured-- same injury, by the way- that i decided to talk to her. everything about her was amazing. she had flaws, yes, but that just made her seem less vulnerable to the world. her voice sounded beautiful, and there was something about her sharp, dangerous looks at i liked. and i could tell she didn't like me at first. until i told her that id been reincarnated a few times, and that interested her.

because her tribe was against reincarnating souls if they were only getting sent back to war. and to add on about forty years of experience to my eighteen year old self, maybe that caught her eye. the next day, after we were considered fit to go fight, we fought back to back. and let me tell you, she could fight. she whirled and parried, ducked and shoved, it was like a whirlwind had gone through. she could fight, my dieros tala.

but she couldn't be reincarnated.

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[just peachy!]

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well, im alive. thanks to some angel who found me. she probably thought i was dead until i screamed. and she kept saying something, the same thing. like, over and over. repeatedly. she was nearly in tears, that's how nervous she appeared to be. i guess i scared her or something. anyways. im holed up in this makeshift infirmary. and man, i hate it here. the angel who found me is taking after me. she's learning chimaeric. the first thing she said was roughly.. "im your.. doctor? hello." but aside from that, her language sounds like droacfires. as in, really graceful and.. kinda beautiful. whereas chimaeric is rough and sounds grating against her own native language.

the angel herself is quite pretty. wavy, brown hair and soft, fawn eyes. she's kind of tan. but don't angels come from mountains? im confused on how dark her skin is. well, aside from that, she said her name is bark or something. i don't remember. when i tried calling for her, her face turned really red. i most likely said it wrong, anyways. this is exactly why people from different places shouldn't be put together. plus, its not likely that i'd ever be able to learn the angel's language.

aside from that.. well, she said my arm is fine, and my broken stump of an antler will grow back in a few weeks. but my leg is in bad shape. the medics apparently don't have access to what i need to fix my leg, so.. well, im kind of screwed. a little bit. actually, quite a bit. its shattered badly and i dunno. without a leg its probably hard to fight in a war.

oh.

whatever her face is back, and she's re-wrapping my leg in bandages. she made a compress to put on it, and it hurts like hell. ill manage, though. by the time it heals the war will probably be over. actually, this war had been going on for at least ten years and wont stop soon. so maybe not. but i wont look forward to fighting again. speaking of war and humans, they are looking in the wrong place for yellow bits of metal. seriously though, whats so special of it? my tribe has a few things dipped in molten gold, but that happened decades ago, when the territory with tons of gold volcanoes was once ours. but the aaruk traded something for the land, so we moved into the forests.

even though im kind of pained, i cannot stress how fortunate im to be out of that damned war. for now, that is. even if im crippled ill probably have to run some sort of task. a cook or medic. hell, humans just never want to give up. and ive kind of realized theres only male humans on the battlefields. whats up with that, anyways? those people are so weird. why would they even come here in the first place? curiosity will get you killed. remember that, kids.

when my parents died, it was the following year i enlisted. my father disappeared at war and my mother passed away from some unknown cause. i wasn't even told how. and frankly, i don't want to know. i was only twelve years old, and i was scared. scared of whether the little setalos tribe would be killed off. we are probably the lowest in numbers of most of the tribes, anyways. my decisions were stupid, but id rather be a warrior then a medic or something. definitely not an undertaker; im not up for burying my comrades.

the war has been going on for many seasons. ive been at battle for what; six, or so years? im around eighteen now, i do believe. but then again, ive lost count of the days and nights. honestly, everyone at their first battle, their first season, they're always keeping track of time. a well-worn warrior knows keeping days in length doesn't help. and i suppose that's why i gave up.

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