Writing

Anyone wanna rp with Tanarus? :]

I'll post an intro up, all you guys have to do is post a reply. It's open to anyone!

T A N A R U S

HIS BIO: HERE

The forest was quiet in the early morning as the young stag awoke. He squinted at the sun sleepily, but got up nonetheless and with a stretch, began to move throughout the trees. A few birds chirped in the distances, but most was calm. Tanarus rubbed his horns quickly against a pine tree as he passed, careful not to mess up the candles on his antlers, before shaking his head and breathing in the crisp morning air. "A little cool out today..." He mused to himself and set off to begin his day.

Striped legs blended with the pale golden grass he walked through, but his emerald back stuck out. In most ways, he resembled a young bull elk like his father, but his kirin mother graced him with a long, tasseled tail. It was dragged through the grass behind him and Tanarus listened to the quiet 'tink' sounds the plants made when they hit his golden tail cuff. Stopping by the edge of the pond, he dipped his head to take a drink and await company.

Heavy hooves made no sound as they tread along the sulfur and limestone laced earth underfoot. Every now and then a burst of steam erupts from the burning yellow ground, whistling hotly as hot air touches lower temperatures. The thick and foul smell of the peculiar ground below was enough to make the Necromancer wince. Regardless of his profession and abilities, he was never fond of the certain odors of the netherworlds.

His black and white pelt, marked with the pattern work of a deer’s skeletal system, appears faded and gray in the steam and smog the ground produces. Six crimson eyes stare straight ahead as he walks, looking with determination for the soul of one he had dealt with over a year ago. Whether it’s still intact or not is questionable to him. Every now and then he shakes his head from one side to the other, using his massive red antlers to thin and fan away the hot smog. If the humidity became too much for him, he could also fan the steam away with his long, fluffy tail. In doing so, he would also often brush away a stray soul or two.

Once the smog became almost entirely unbearable, Archelius finally found his man of interest. A smile appears on the necromancer’s long mouth, flashing his shark-like teeth briefly. ”Illic vos es. Illic est postulo sciscitor quispiam vestrum.”

A deer sits in the heart of the smog. Bright, lime green eyes flicker in the darkness. Slowly he raises to a stand, having previously been sitting with his nose to the ground… as though breathing in the extreme bursts of heat in a manner one would take in air from an underwater position. As he comes close to the necromancer, it becomes clear that the deer is naught by a skeleton himself. He wears a black cloak over his bones, and in his mouth he carries a long rapier. His horns, bleached white with age, are grand in size and designed like six mighty rapiers, much like the one in his mouth.

Disturbing Content, read at your own risk.

Orinoco stirred softly on the grass. Nightmares were invading her sleep yet again and she could not take it. For weeks this had been going on and only recently did it grow to a peak that was unbearable. Even when awake they seemed to be there, gnawing on her consciousness like a dog ravaging an old bone. It was maddening and she had purposely avoided both her mate and daughter as she did not want them to see her like this. Laying her head to the grass she cried, she cried for a long time then suddenly, like a gust of wind from an unknown source the onslaught on her mind vanished. The doe smiled and in an instant passed out. She was asleep for hours. When she awoke she felt tired still and she felt sore this confused her the most. Looking at herself, or what she could see she noted small scratch marks. Perhaps a squirrel or rabbit had been climbing on me she thought then slowly rose. She felt lethargic and her mind was swimming. Despite this however she seemed to have more energy. With her new found strength and serenity she sniffed out her daughter and mate. When she found both together she smiled then slowly walked to greet them. Oh how happy she was to see them, and them her. Making her way to where they had been sitting she sat down and nuzzled them both when they joined her. For the first time in a long time Orinoco believed today was going to be a good day and only get better from there.

How wrong she was. Fever began to make it's way into her body. The small cuts and scraps grew to an angry red and swelled to the size of pine cones. Cold sweat permeated her fur making it greasy and her breathing was heavy. As it grew harder and harder to breath she started to cough and a black, sludge like substance spewed from her mouth.She turned her gaze sympathetically to her mate and daughter. How incredibly infantile it was of her to approach them before fully healing. Now her darling family had to see her in such a horrid state.

i am trying to keep my colors but it keeps going away

anyone know how to keep them?

Moss needs to interact, guys.

He's so socially inept still...

His biography is here.

Notes

Please use proper spelling and grammar. Spell-check DOES exist. I understand it's hard for non-english-speakers, but if you speak english, I want to see it done right.
Please type at least 3 sentences. Small paragraphs are preferred, but I'm fine with a few lines if you don't wanna write that much.
Give me effort.
New interactions are preferable. I'd like for him to meet some new deer!

[=Bookman Antiqua Bold Italic][=#e56717]

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Birds echoed each other in the treetops in a magnificent song that played throughout the forest every day emanating from their beaks. Unseen ducks cackled nearby at the pond in competitive laughter as they rooted through the weeds for bugs and tender shoots before the frogs could get to them. Several small plops reached the stag's white ears as he witnessed a fawn chasing the little amphibians. He assumed they had scattered upon feeling the excited babe's hooves pounding the ground as she bucked and bounced. A chuckle escaped Moss' lips at the sight of it.

From where he sat, a bit inside the treeline, the Black and White could see the pond and the bridge both, along with the first half of the brook that led from the Crying Idol to fill the large pool at the end. Deer meandered the length of his vision, most coming to drink or cool themselves. Maybe some were there for the scenery like he was... no, they probably weren't. Moss was in this area of the forest to check on it. The Root System of the trees held the magic: the Heartbeat of the Forest. Moss seemed to be able to check on it. He made sure no synapses were broken. A steady tha-dump could be felt and heard if you concentrated hard enough.

Contains mention of sexualities oh god the horror
also these MSNs actually exist because I have no life

__________________________________________________________________________________ESCAPE

Roiling water pushed her down, pressed her cheek against the black mud and held her there helpless. She tried to fight it, but the churning waves won out over her strength, pushing cold salty water down her throat. It filled her lungs, sealed her throat, and flooded her nose with a burning sensation.

Just an hour ago everything had been perfect. She hadn't come home to her father's anger in a month, been greeted by his yelling at her, telling her she wasn't good enough, not good enough to live, let alone live in his house under his roof.

The ocean was her comfort, her only haven from him. Camellia walked down the thin sandy path that wound down near the coast every day that she could. This was the first time she had come at night.

She didn't know exactly what she did, but the memory in her house, not that long ago stood out in her mind. Camellia had come home late, and remembered his hollering, then the smack of his hand against the pale skin on her cheek. He had slapped her. Hard. She remembered how she'd screamed, terror and pain that he had broken the barrier that stood between them ever since her mother left. He was just as shocked as she was, and his disbelief lent her time. She had torn out of the house and down the dirt path and thrown herself with all her heart and mind into the water.

The current tugged at her, slapping her with the brute force of the ocean as she swayed in the water, giving in to it's might.

Her head slumped against her chest, and all was blackness and the warmth of the liquid surrounding her, coddling her. If she wasn't half-drowned she might have wondered how she could still breathe.
Then, a pause as the girl opened her eyes and swam, pushed her tired limbs into movement and heaved herself onto the shore of some body of water that was no longer recognizable to her.
Everything seemed almost bigger, taller than before and bigger. And this was when she looked at herself, twisting her head to get a good look and then throwing herself back into the lake's murky waters. It was as if she was trying to drown herself all over again.

Her legs were stronger now, but so unsteady. It seemed as though she had become a deer! But Camellia continued to try to get herself back into the depths of the pond, flailing with hooved feet, and finally, collapsing with a broken sob on the bank. Her bruised body needed rest, and as she curled up into a tight little ball that was all that she could fathom.

[hover] this is an interactive with camellia, a human-faced doe character who has just entered the forest through the pond~ interactions are very much appreciated.

Another war story? Oh, no. It's a half rant/half explanation of Zash's past in a fairly better way than what I originally put down. Please note that this is Zash's perspective and opinions and they don't necessarily reflect my own.

Enjoy another side of him, the rant-y angry, bitter side. Mild cursing.

War has since lost its old romance. The romance you read about in the history books, the one where men ride forth of their valiant steeds to meet a death they may or may not conquer. The one where men clad themselves in armor, brandishing a bow or a sword that seems to fit them perfectly.

Yes, that old romance is gone.

Gone with the metallic blade, gone with even the crossbow, the axe, and the arrow. They even went so far as to pull the steed out from under them, to have them stabled; hobbled, waiting for the breath of war they will never see again.

The open battlefield of day is replaced with the relentless battering of day and night, with no place to hide, no place to run. Burrowed in the ground, waiting to be flushed out like a fox.

Waiting for the hunting hounds to come.

That was the game he was thrown into, whether he realized it or not. Deep down somewhere, he did. It was an underlying knowledge, a whispering thought hiding between the lines. Yet, like everything, he didn’t want to believe.

And why should he? War was glorious. Beautiful. Something that every young man wanted to be a part of simply to prove themselves. Who cared about all the little details? It didn’t matter when the glory of fighting for your country became such a grand thing, to rid the world of the evil that harmed it and its people.

They failed to mention the rats the size of small cats, the trenches, and the bombings well into the night. They failed to mention the chlorine gas that wandered the trenches and no man’s land, probing about the earth like some blind creature. They failed to mention the aircraft, easy to detect but hard to avoid.

The Endless Forest

Tanarus' RP Blog

Acquisition (Short Story)

To be happy...[Blood Warning]

Shadows of my Past::Private RP Brooks, Orinoco, Cali::

colors

Interact with Moss (RP)

random notes :: sexualities, alignments, MSNs

Complete Blather (non-TEF)

`` e s c a p e [interactive]

The Romance of War