Extra bit in the title will be deleted soon |D
Names link to bios.
These intros are merely there if you wish to use them<3 feel free to come up with new ones!
Human version available upon request.
Vilnius
There is a soft pumping sound, pulsing, thrumming, coming from the small grove of trees upon the hill that overlooks the pond.
The scent of blood drifts from the area as well, fresh and hot.
Should one be brave enough to look into what the sound and scent was, they would find a stag, though his gently rounded stomach might come as a surprise, will you speak with the Prince of Hearts?
----
Alaska
A flash of snow white within the sunlight.
A stag sits within the halo of warmth, white as virgin snow how ironic that is.
Beneath each eye are rivers of crimson colouration, but aside from that his coat is pure.
His eyes seem to contain the night sky itself, languid ribbons of aurora colour spin and weave within them.
---
Amsden
The soft sound of the river gurgles and sings.
Beside it, a stag of crimson fur sits, a silken coat lays over him, buttoned at the neck, golden blond hair flopping into his eyes.
a few earrings hang from his ears, and necklaces hand about his neck.
He seems relaxed, happy even, certainly good company, right?
Sucre
What could that smell be...
Chocolate, and vanilla...sugar caramel, syrup? sugar!
The stag trots lightly through the shady first forest, various candies sitting upon, hanging from, and generally growing from his bubblegum antlers.
He wears a wide grin, cotton candy tail waving behind him, nearly dancing as he moves.
Patriot
---
Upon the altar, nestled within the ruins, sitting like a demon from a long forgotten legend, a winged canine sits.
Her ears of red and blue feathers twitch lazily every so often, she probably already knows you're around, it's easy to see in her eyes, which glow neon green, as if radioactive.
Her tail gives a twitch, music notes rippling.
Dare you approach?
---
Angevine
A muzzle extends, butterfly landing upon it, and the stag, for he is very much a stag despite his lack of antlers, smiles slightly.
He's a pretty looking male, and he looks very at peace, sitting in the sunlit flowers, amongst the butterflies, though they are far more colourful than the markings upon him, or him in general, he seems to fit there.
-----
Thomas J Alain
If one did not look closely they might have assumed that the stag was wearing a coat.
But he was not, the color of his fur merely mimicked the patterning and colors of the revolutionary war uniform he had worn in his human life.
of course the may also have assumed he was a doe, lacking in antlers as he was.
his tail gives a flick as he walks slowly through the forest, turning his head to take everything in, a bloodied medical patch giving him a blind spot, and his ears constantly turn to make up for it.
----
France
He seems to strut as he walks, showing off every (rather delicious) inch of fur and body he can, bright blond hair tied back, showing bright blue eyes, no antlers to be seen, who needs them? he's not a fighter, he's a
lover
He sings lightly to himself, about himself, in french, ah vanity, one of his many traits.
He can see the beauty in other things too of course.
He does it a lot.
greet him? We shall see what beauty he finds in
you
...
or not~
Prince
He is easy to see, of course, he does not try to hide himself, he has no reason to.
He sits within a sunlit' patch, like a king upon his throne.
Or rather, a Prince, upon his throne.
His chocolate coloured fur is perfectly cleaned, shining even, stripes the colour of fine gold streak his rump daintily.
Atop his head, he even bears a crown, secured upon his head the way other deer bore antlers.
A rope sits coiled between his legs, organized, the other end of the noose is looped about his neck, forever a reminder of his sins.
Servant
He appears to be in a daze, stumbling through the grasses and trees like a zombie, the red string about his neck flickers in the wind, flashing against his long, silky fur, the colour of jet or ink.
His eyes are large, but they are half closed at the moment, adding to the dazed expression.
At last he simply collapses, sitting in a patch of shade, he appears to be in shock. maybe someone should speak to him...
Daywalker
The sun burns high in the sky, beating down relentlessly.
Walking slowly is a deer, no, a deity, hooves light upon the ground, only the tips touch the ground.
it looks delicate, but beautiful, its eyes glimmer like dull stars.
Upon his head large, heavy looking horns, his head is not held up, though it's hard to tell if it's from the weight or not.
the being seems kind, maybe you would like to speak with it.
Nightflier
The veil of the sun, the day, has been wiped away.
A flash of starry sky! the sun trails behind the deity, glowing dim, eyes open, gleaming like stars caught within its head.
Behind it, galaxies stream, brilliant, ever changing mixture of sky and stars.
And it is swift, there's no way a normal deer could keep up.
But a chance! the being stops to rear, tossing its head to the sky before brilliant hooves come crashing down, and it is still.
Quick, now's your chance to talk to it!
[ HAY. ] Rhye's breath left
Rhye's breath left him briefly and he glanced away, trying not to smile too much. After a second or two he looked back to France, tilting his head a little. His antlers hung around his face. "Francis Bonnefoy. Lovely name." Gold eyes looked downwards almost shyly. "You don't have antlers."
Ginger; She merely smiled,
She merely smiled, listening quietly.
"could be worse I guess" she tapped her heel against the bench.
"you're gonna get yourself killed one of these days" she snorted.
She looked his clothing over.
"nice style though" not as fabulous as her own, but, cool.
Star;
"hmm? oh? oui, but 'zat is fine, I prefer my 'air anyway~" he said simply.
"unless 'zer is something bad about it?"
(Oh hai *wave*) He shrugged.
He shrugged. "I d-d-don't c-care. P-p-parents d-don't c-care e-e-either." He heard her tap her heel. Hm. Nice beat. He tapped his cane to go with it.
tap... tap... taptaptatatap...
And so on and so forth. He chuckled and ran a hand through his bright red hair "St-style? I w-w-wouldn't k-k-know... I j-j-just w-w-wear wh-what th-they t-t-tell me t-t-too." He kept with the beat as he talked, putting in his own variations to it.
taptap... tapittytaptaptatatap...
"Oh, no! No no, I was
Ginger; She nodded,
She nodded, listening carefully.
TaptaptaptaptapTaptaptapTapTapTap
On a bad day she would have told him to stop, but her mood was decent so she remained silent.
"hm, figures" he mumbled, stretching lazily.
Star;
France simply smiled.
"oui, I am sorry 'ef I offended you in any way" he nearly purred the words, sweet as honey smooth as milk.
"'zey are pretty anyway, a stag does not need antlers to be fetching after all"
(Mhm. I've returned from the
He paused and grinned happily. "V-Very n-nice..." he said, nodding. He loved tapping, it made him happy.
"P-People a-are p-p-probably g-g-giveing is s-suc w-weird l-l-looks r-right now..." he giggled, politly putting a hand to his mouth. Looks never bothered him. Hell man, he could'nt see them. Why would they? But their little comments sure as Hell did.
"Oh my... Look over there, Irene... See that poor boy over there? Look at those awful eyes..."
He scowled a little. He wasn't deaf, for god's sake. His eyes were... odd though. Grey and lifeless. One looked up while the other looked down. It wasn't very nice looking, that's for sure.
Rhye swallowed, nodding a
Gingernut; The grey haired
The grey haired girl frowned.
"son of a bitch" she tossed herself elegantly from the bench, glaring sharply.
"hey, you," she waved a hand, "you should watch your mouth before someone rips it off your face" she hissed, smirking, controlled insanity to her eyes, her voice.
"or maybe someone should rip your tongue off anyway, people need to learn to talk less"
Star;
He simply smiled, "Honestly I don't know" he admitted, he had just woken up in the forest, at first he had assumed it was just a dream, but as time wore on he realized it was not.
"and you monsiour?"
This made him laugh quietly,
"P-P-Patriot? Y-You...
He didn't know how awful he looked. How could he? But many people had told him that his looks were supremely unnatural, and he was ashamed for it. His oh-so-generous parents had stopped buying pairs of sunglasses when his little brother had kept breaking and smashing them out of spite.
The two offending women just looked at Patriot with a mixture of fear, annoyance, and shoke before quickly scampering off without a word. Their encounter would become quite the conversation piece in the next dinner hour.
Carbunkle heard them scamper off and sighed. "Y-You... Y-You sh-sh-shouldn't h-h-have... Th-They d-don't un-un-underst-stand..." a sudden horrible thought flashed through his head.
"D-Do... D-Do my e-eyes r-r-really l-look th-that b-b-b-b..." he seemed to get stuck on the last word, trembling a bit as tried sounding it out.
hfff~ Gotta do this sometime.
The girl simply plopped back
"I know very well that people don't understand" she rolled her eyes, an ironic movement actually.
"that's the problem, they don't want to understand, it's not that they can't, they simply can't be bothered to try"
she looked him over.
Patriot wasn't one to judge on appearances, if she were, she wouldn't look the way she dd, now would she.
"ya' look fine, my eyes are pretty crazy too, no worries" she waved a hand slightly.
"c'mon kid, we're getting you some glasses, maybe then the sheeple will stop throwing pity parties for ya'" she stated, jumping up again.
Star;
He laughed.
"oui, well, aquantences are one thing, friends are another" he laughed, beginning to walk again, motioning for the other male to follow, he didn't like simply standing in one place, he much preffered to lie down, or walk while he spoke.
"almost everyone 'ere is very friendly though"he noted
Ama;
OWO
"B-B-But..." he stammered.
His little brother would kill him, for sure.
"D-D-Don't d-d-do th-th-that... I... br-br-break th-them by ac-ac-accident a l-l-lot..." he lamely mumbled.
It was pretty obvious that he was lying.
She frowned. "yeah...YOU
"yeah...YOU break them, sure" she rolled her eyes, leading him off anyway, giving glares to anyone who dared stare.
"what kind of place are you livin' in anyway kid, I mean, life is hell, but you seem pretty fucked up"
she yawned, holding her hands behind her head once they reached a place to keep walking foreward easily.
He yelped as he heard her
taptaptaptaptaptap...
He flinched at her question. "I... M-My b-b-brother... br-br-br-breaks th-them. M-My p-p-parents j-j-just th-th-think it's m-m-me..." he stuttered, his voice monotone.
Breaks them... Breaks me...
"Th-They d-d-don't p-p-pay m-m-much a-a-attention t- m-m-me a-a-anyway..."
He dosen't break, does he? No...
"Pl-Please..."
He controls me...
"D-D-Don't sp-sp-spend m-m-money on m-m-me..."
Like a puppet...
((.... *Shot for getting 'deep'*))
She shrugged. "don't have
"don't have anything better to waste money on" she stated.
oh but not her, she'll cut the strings
she tugged him along into the store looking the different glasses over, every so often pressing them over the child's eyes, testing them.
Not to free you of course
Eventually she seemed content, tossing some money on the counter, buying them, just simple sunglasses, buying soda as well, shoving the glasses and a bottle in the boy's hands.
"there"
she just wants to see you broken ♥
"put 'em on and enjoy the drink, you look like ya' need it" she grumbled.
((/joins/ /also shot))
He took the glasses,
The strings... They're taut... They're going to break...
Y-You d-d-didn't h-h-have to g-g-get m-m-me a d-d-drink, y-y-you kn-know..." He chuckled and put the glasses on, like the snug feel they brought when they hugged around his head.
Snap...
His body suddenly grew still.
A string... A string is broken...
He twitched, and slowly took them off.
A... string... is.... broken...
His eyes were no longer they're dead grey, oh no. They were a golden brown, and perfectly healthy. His face contorted into an expression of pain and sadness. Suddenly, he spoke.
The stutter was gone...
"Patriot..." he mumbled, holding them up to her.
"Take them back. Please take them away..."
It hurt.
((*slaughtered*))
"yeah well, it's a habit I
"ya' look good" she nodded.
You can cut a string without scissors you know
She watched him, no concern crossed her features, mild curiousity yes.
"hey kid, you havin' an asthma attack or somethin'?" she asked, tapping his head with one finger.
just gotta pull hard enough
she knelt down, inspecting his eyes with a sense of almost awe.
"colour suits you, but, mind fillin' me in on why exactly yer' eyes changed?" she asked, well, demanded, Patriot rarely 'asked' for anything.
Be careful though
She tipped her head, gently taking the glasses, resting a hand on his shoulder.
"hey, hey pipsqueak, you all right in the head?" she questioned him.
you might get cut
I won't remember... Will
He stared at her, eyes passing over every nook and cranny of her face, a sense of panic overwhelming him.
Too much... Too much at once...
His brain was being overloaded, compiling new schemas and names for things that he had only taken for by touch.
Tie the string...
"Break them..." he murmured, trying to shut his eyes, but finding them glued open.
TIE STRING!!!
"BREAK THEM!!! PLEASE!!!" he screamed, and tried to cover his face with his hands... But it was no use.
The stings had broken...
even when tied, a string is
her fingers trembled, then flexed gently.
A shattering of glass, crystals raining to the ground, clattering against the pavement, little jewels, little tears, blood not yet shed.
it will always have a knot
she shook her head, sweeping him close, against the frills and finery of her clothing, hands held easily over his eyes.
"sometimes I wish I were blind" her voice a mere whisper.
That's not to say it can't be used
"I feel they see the world far better than those with eyes" she smiled, not warm, or motherly, simply a smile, as one migt draw upon the corner of their schoolwork in boredom.
"I would like to travel the world someday. And see all there is to see"
it's simply...
"and then I would like to go blind" her smile widened.
"then I would travel it all again" a small pause
"and then, I will have truly seen the world"
different
Stringtied... Stringtied..
He could almost feel his eyes reverting back to their cold grey. A comforting feeling... Something he cherished whenever his strings broke.
How many times have you tied them, Carbunkle?
His tongue lost it's focus. Taking on the amature string that controlled it.
You can't tie them forever...
He started to cry into the hands that were held over his eyes, tears pooling into the crease of her palms.
The ends...
"I... I... I..."
Get frayed...
N-N-Not s-s-s-see it..." he murmured, putting his own smaller hands onto her's.
They lose their touch...
T-T-To feel it..." he finally whispered.
And the puppet...
breaks
a real shame when a doll
"...you see more than most people" she assured, bringing her hands away, sitting down and holding him in her lap, resting her chin atop his bright hair.
"people like you and I"
or people get tired of them
"we see more than them" she hummed.
"people don't like things, people, ideas, that are different, it frightens them" her eyes flitted half close, playing with the child's hands.
and throw them to the dogs
The tears only flowed harder,
You're wearing out, Car...
"Wh-Wh-Wh-What d-d-did I d-d-d-do?" he blubbered, body limp, completely at her mercy.
Puppets need to know their place, after all...
"P-P-People... A-a-a-are.... S-So st-st-st-stupid... he muttered, not really knowing how to respond to her observation.
You will be thrown away soon...
And the junkyard dog "that
"that they are" she smiled, playing with his hair, allowing him to cry himself out, humming under her breath again, little songs, with names never made or long since forgotten.
"which is why you must never allow them to get to you" more humming.
"after all"
will come and find you
"they don't know any better"
Come now, Car... He listened
He listened to her talk... A stupid expression of beweilderment on his face.
I need to patch you up from that... accident...
His eyelids felt heavy, as if they were being forced down. He cried out and tried to fight it back, bringing his hands to his eyes, trying to peel them open.
You're making the tears bigger by fighting me...
And just like that, his hands fell limp to his sides, and his closed. his breathing soft and peaceful. That of a normal child.
There we are... Now let me stitch you up...