The Hunt - Amazonian Slave RP - Semi-lit+ (Plot.) CLOSED

[Harpy•]

{{Thankyou for letting me edit. Which I did. ^.^ xD Yeah...I decided to create him solely for this RP, so I made his personality revolve around the plot of it.}}

[Popcorns]

{ So when can we start? I think all of the slots are filled right? }

[Clowesia]

((We'll start tomorrow, I'll get the post written up first thing. x3 I've been a bit brain dead lately, so that's my fault.))

[Clowesia]

Sophie

The ceremonial paint was cold and slimy as one of the many priestesses smeared it down over her right eye; her two slightly spread fingers leaving two rouge red trails in their wake. The priestess’s fingers moved then, starting from the right corner of her jaw before arching over her lower face the, two fingers passing by each side of her mouth before they smeared over her left cheek, ending at the other corner of her jaw bone. She gave a nervous lick of her lips, her tongue swiping through some of the smeared paint, the bitter taste of the berries used causing her jaw to clench as her tongue whipped back in.

Her left hand tightened around her spear, the leather creaking under her grasp as the yips and cries of her sisters and aunties cried out, their songs filling her body with courage and spirit. Several hands slapped across the back of her shoulder, over and over again as they passed by, giving her their encouragement without words. The thump of the drums pounded through her body as she felt it course down her legs, ending at her feet as she gave an excited jump like many of her sisters dancing around.

Today was a joyous day for all, and Sophie could not stop the infectious smile from splitting her own features.

It was then the Mother Priestess stepped forwards, but instead of the noise dying down, it erupted into a magnificent chaos. The sounds of the drums escalated as the dancing of her wild sisters had their feet thumping at the ground like a stampeding Dualaphant, dust and dirt rising around their feet and legs in a cloud. The Mother Priestess was old, her form short and hunched as her mattered grey and dirty black hair hung around her form, nearly completely covered in the remains of lesser animals.

Her left hand slowly twitched as her fingers began to rap over a small ceremonial drum attached to her waist as her right hand dove into a satchel by her side. A primal song made up of no words escaped through her aged and withered lips as she began to scatter the ashes mixed with the blood of a sacrificial animal around her and her hunt sisters. Sophie eagerly danced her feet along the trail of ash, coating the soles of her bare feet in it, knowing it would bring her swift and quiet footsteps and the luck of a good hunt.

As the stout elder came to a stop in front of the group again, Sophie gave a quick respectful bow of her head. “You will walk the paths forged by your mothers before you today, on the day the three sisters share the sky.” She croaked, her bony fingers extending to the sky to regard the triplet of suns now hanging above the Tutuwuan in a perfect triangle. “It is a joyous occasion, not only for you, but for your sisters and aunties.” She swung the same hand out to extend towards the huge gathering of females, only to have them explode into a flurry of noise as they were mentioned.

“The mother forest that bares onto us fruits that cure our hungering bellies, that houses animals that cover our flesh from the cold, tree’s that give us weapons to survive, will now give you males to protect and own. These will be the males that bring to us another generation of daughters.” She finished softly, a kind smile only an elderly woman could give cracking her lips. “They will run from you, they will hide from you and they may even fight you, for they know no better, my daughters. They are only simple creatures; you must guide them into your bosom with a gentle hand.” She cooed, swinging her own hand to rest over her heart, Sophie’s smile could only stretch wider in return to the Mother Priestess’s words.

She gave a hard stamp of her towering staff, the bones and trinkets covering the head of it violently jiggling and crashing together. “Sophie.” She called out, looking her straight in the eye as she beckoned her forwards with a crow like hand; Sophie quickly complied. Two thin and willowy elder priestesses stepped forward, in their hands they held together an exquisitely ornate box, so unlike the primal nature of these woman. The Mother Priestess turned her staff jingling as she waved it over the top of the box, an incantation spewing from her lips in an unknown tongue. And the end of the dramatic spell the end of her staff bashed down onto the top of the box, the lid popping open in return.

The Mother Priestess cast her staff off to the side as she reached into the box to grasp the item of such importance. She turned with awe in her eyes as she reverently held the alabaster horn high above her head. She whispered, barely audible to their ears, a soft sentence in a language Sophie knew not of as she slowly lowered her hands; Sophie eagerly threw out her own as the Mother Priestess placed the horn into her hands, using her gnarled fingers to close Sophie’s around the legendary item tightly.

“This is the horn of Itti Fiye, it is a great honour to hold it, it is an even greater honour to lead to receive it for the hunt. You have been given a great responsibility, Sophie. You must guide your sisters within the womb of the Mother Forest, you must keep them safe. It is your fate that you lead them. It is your destiny to bring you and your sisters to greatness!” The crowd erupted into cries as Sophie’s own hand clasped at the horn, its surface scored with the greatest story of their tribe, the story of the hunt.

Raising the horn to her lips, she raised a sound unlike any she had heard as the horn bellowed the beginning of the hunt through the land, stretching farther and wider than any bellow her mortal lungs could provide. “Now go!” Came the cry of the Mother Priestess, pointing her worn and aged hands to the forest. Sophie could do nothing but heed her words as she took off, her ash covered feet pounding down the well worn path of her ancestors, her sisters following her lead as she disappeared into the mother forest’s embrace.

If she had not ran so fast, she and her sisters may have heard the Mother Priestess last words.

“Be careful, my daughter! There is a creature within the forest that our tribe has spoke of for many a generation. The Ju•dai should not be forgotten.” She whispered, her voice croaking as her arm fell limp, a few sisters rushing forward to support the Mother Priestess as she fell weak. “The Ju•dai is just a myth, Mother Priestess, a story to scare the daughters.” Another lesser priestess piped up, trying to soothe the Mother Priestess’s worry.

“The Ju•dai is not a dream, daughter, and Sophie’s fate is to concur more than the hunt. Her destiny is much larger than that. I hope she has the spirit or fire within her, she will need it. They all will.”


...

((Sorry it took so long to get this out, it should of been up hours ago. Long story short, life got in the way when I told it to bugger off. xD Now, Id really like all the women to post first, after they have all made their introduction posts, the men can make theirs. After that, you can take up any posting pattern you want. x3
Long introduction is long.
OTL
1,206 words, sorry for making you read so much.
Hopefully it was good, yes?))

[ossa di cervo]

((Amazing first post! I'll post tomorrow, I swear. I just.. Have no muse at the moment. xD))

[average]

((Amazing first post! I'll post tomorrow, I swear. I just.. Have no muse at the moment. xD))

Yeah, me neither. My mind is blank. I hope I can think of something. x3

[ossa di cervo]

Come on down, to the other side,
Come with us through the gates of hell,
We will drag you from where you are to where you belong.

Vyra stood stock still as the priestesses spread paint across her face, afraid that any movement would ruin the lovely colors. You have to move sooner or later though.. Rather then moving her face or neck, Vyra's arms began to twitch in her anxiousness. She was becoming rather jumpy with the excitement that pulsed through her every fiber. Her paler then usual skin, yet still dark due to the blistering sun, was painted with a beautiful red that emphasized her jaw-line.

Once the priestesses were done, Vyra looked over at the other members of the hunt and noticed how much more intricate, yet simple, Sophie's facial paint was then the others. Vyra smiled widely, she admired the girl, so full of spirit and the pride of the tribe.

The women around the future hunters began to cheer and chant and Vyra felt the mood getting to her. She reached down and pulled out two of the daggers she'd made herself that were strapped to her thighs and leapt into the air, holding them high above her head. A few cries came from her mouth, but she soon found her self-control once more and stood, looking toward the Mother Priestess. She temporarily lost her self control again as the crowd around them shouted and cried out even louder then before, but she quickly had herself controlled once more and turned toward the Mother Priestess again.

Vyra listened closely to all the words she said, barely noticing the explosions of noise around them every now and then as her head tilted in admiration. When the wooden box was brought out, Vyra's eyes widened at the designs and effort it would've taken to make such an item. Surely it was prized beyond belief and Vyra was proven correct as the horn of Itti Fiye was brought out from it's prison.

Vyra watched in awe as Sophie took the horn and it's sound echoed through the wood. It shook her body from her toes to the top of her head and she had to tighten her fists to keep from bursting out again. "Now go!" Vyra watched as Sophie dashed off and was quickly after her.

The skins that covered Vyra's body whipped in the air that rushed around her as she ran. Vyra didn't have to much covered because she simply believed in her own agility and abilities. She didn't need much leather to keep her safe in her mind. Her feet were bare as she pounded through the forest after her sisters, toward the hunt that would change them all.

((Rather short compared to yours. xD Buuuut.. I like it myself. :3))

[average]

(Turns out I had already written one, and so this is it, but I had
to change like half of it because it didn't fit. xD)


What kind of w o r l d do you want?
think a n y t h i n g
let's start at the s t a r t
build a m a s t e r p i e c e
be careful what you w i s h for
h i s t o r y starts now...

Eriën grinned excitedly. It was finally her time! It was time to find her male and Eriën couldn't
wait. She couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy that Sophie got to lead, but that feeling didn't last long,
for she knew that Sophie was a great leader, better than she would ever be. Besides, she was always
was too busy thinking of what trap she could build - such as right now. She had a snare in mind, but
it was far too simple. She had picked out her favorite tool - a small dagger in a leather sheath tied with a
thick string on her hip that she often used when picking items to use for traps.

Eriën also carried a long rope attached on the other side that was coiled tightly so it wouldn't hang
and make her stumble when she ran. She watched with a smile as fellow future hunters took their
turn of getting the marks. She took a step forward as it was her turn, heart beating excitedly as
she knew that any second they would go. The beautiful colors were soon spread on her face and
she fought the temptation to touch it before it had even dried. The paint had a barely
noticeable bittersweet scent that she inhaled as Mother Priestess gently painted her face.
It was cold, but felt good against the heat of the day. She watched in admiration as the
horn was brought out and she couldn't help but grin at everyone's reaction as well. She watched
as Sophie brought the horn to her lips, and before she knew it, they were off.

[Shy]

She stood still: eyes closed, her lashes brushing gently against her dark skin, concealing her pale blue eyes. Her skin was not light, but well-tanned from the hot, humid seasons that lasted nearly year-round. Her copper-red locks fell heavily around her shoulders, adorned with various feathers. Tanned skins and pelts hung around her body, and she grasped a tall spear loosely in her palm. Her thighs and legs were wrapped with various tools she might find useful during her "hunt". This included a carefully woven net that had been passed down through the generations of her close family. This was most surely the most important event in young Khita's life.

She stood still, poised slightly on her toes as a priestess spread various paint across her face. The paint was cold, and Khita obtained the feeling that her features were being encased under the liquid. The various mix of berries and dye lifted a light, sweet perfume from mother nature around her body. The fragrance urged a sigh of relief as Khita knew she would be lead into the depths of nature by the hands of her fellow sisters.

Her eyes fluttered open as the priestess was finished marking her face with various lines and marks. She stepped forward, closer into the crowd to be among the women whom were accompanying her on the quest. The group was lead by Sophie, a girl one year her senior. Herself, Khita was eighteen. Glancing around her, she seemed to be among women in her age group.

As the paint dried on her face, she felt it difficult to show her true emotion, and she only managed an indifferent grin as the crowd around her constantly erupted in sound. This only increased Khita's anticipation, and she nervously moved from side to side in somewhat of a flowing motion, seeming to be in a daze of some sort until the sound of the horn thrust her back into reality. Soon she found herself running amongst her sisters.

This was the season where she would claim her male, or just more of a pet. Khita took no time to wonder how everything would turn out as her feet fell lightly on the trail beneath her, a trademark of hers was to be unheard and unseen. She gently pushed the hair out of her face as she ran, tucking it neatly behind her ear to allow for a better view of where she was going. She only vaguely heard the words of the priestesses as she ran, not feeling any concern.

[Kites]

Rachett

It was time. Once again, the excitement of the ceremony was pulsing through her veins. Her hand twitched from by her side, seemingly unable to contain a certain hunger. The eagerness for the hunt, the prize. It was mouthwatering. The woman liked her lips, waiting for her turn, waiting for the cool paint to caress her skin. She closed her eyes, and concentrated on not moving, trying to calm herself, to control the bubbling excitement. She knew what she wanted, and she was going to get it, one way or another. Her hand twitched convuslively once again as she felt something touch her face. Her eyes snapped open, narrowed, and then relaxed. It was the priestess, a look of mild concentration as she spread the paint on Rachetts face. Pleased to see the red paint on the fingers of the old woman, Rachett straightened up, her face expressionless, but her eyes eager. Careful not to disrupt the painting, she stood stock-still, listening to her heartbeat in her ears rather than the noise that surrounded her. She was careful not to shut her eyes again, for a mild fear of being attacked when unaware always resided inside of Rachett. Her skin tingled slightly as the paint swept across it, relishing the human touch.
And then the fingers left her face. She could feel the paint cracking slightly as she moved. Her sharp blue eyes followed the priestess as she headed towards Sophie. A woman Rachett deeply respected, but who was very jealous of. It was Rachetts desire to be in Sophies position, to lead the hunters. Rachett's lips parted as she licked her full lips, her eyes staring, her face expressionless. Her eyes wandered away from Sophie, the jealousy ebbing away as she did so. The others who stood beside Rachett were a good choice. She knew them, though the majority not very well however. What she did know is that the whole lot of them, Rachett of course included, were brave, strong, fierce women who were not to be meddled with.
The priestess spoke, and the noise increased. Rachett didn't make a sound. As usual. She never speaks unless the occasion calls for it. Instead, Rachett returns to her primitive side, using her expression as words. It worked with good results. Following the words of the priestess, Rachett nodded slightly. She had heard them before, respected them, but now she just wanted to run. She could almost feel her knife which was hilted at her side, as if it was a part of her own body, just as eager as she was. Her blue eyes flickered with a mild curiosity to the wooden box that was being given to Sophie, and there again was that small level of jealousy. It didn't get in the way of their relationship, or at least that was what Rachett thought, but it came unbidden and unwanted none the less. She couldn't hide her expression of hunger as the ornate horn was taken by Sophie. Such beautiful carving, so ornate.
And then she was running. The change was so sudden, from being attentive and noble, to being wild hunters. The forest whipped past her, blurring at the edges of her vision. She leapt over a fallen log, her feet landing lightly on the thick soil. Her long sun bleached hair whipped out behind her, as wild as she was. She saw a woman fall from the corner of her vision, but paid no attention. For now she was a hunter.