Drooping Willows Vincent's Manifestation

For @Skoll, @Angier or @Morganna, really anybody that she is comfortable talking to ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Saturday 24th, 3:33 am
Halloween Gift Bag: "You catch a glimpse of a long dead friend."

This thread has a lot to do with Hecate's past and will revolve around her father, Vincent. You can read more about him in her profile. A simple preface of his death included a push from a cliff, leaving him with two broken legs and several cracked ribs. He died alone after a few hours of excruciating pain- leaving quite a sour ghost for Hecate to encounter. :x

GHOSTS ARE REAL, THIS MUCH I KNOW.

Cold chills ran down her back, prickling her spine as she slept. Hecate fell asleep early that night, taking the time to prepare herself for a much needed sleep. The woman had been utilizing her time with Skoll, the sparring was starting to take a toll on her. She found herself dozing off frequently. She assumed that her doze would be deep and soundless but yet she found herself waking in the early hours. Hecate lifted her head from the comfortable position it had been in between her legs and tail. Something felt off, an internal clench growing somewhere in her chest. She got up, alerted and poised. The shuffle of leaves to her left raised the fur on her spine to treacherous heights, her heart racing anxiously. "Hello..?" She dared, finding herself strangely afraid. Her eyes caught a glimpse of white among the branches, spinning her to face the dissolving object. "Fuck, I had enough of this, whaddya want?" She snarled fearfully, the shuffling nearing as her legs shook uncontrollably. A faint glow of what appeared to be moonlighted took form, a chilling breeze brushing up her legs. Hecate watched in horror as long legs and a barreled chest began to grow, a familiar sight taking place. "D- da?" She stammered, water welling in her ducts. The thing that resembled her father looked worn and exhausted, there was cuts and lacerations all over his body. The one white eye boring a hole in her flesh. It was dead, the body before her- its scent strangely traveling into her nostrils; setting a sour curl on her lips.


The shock that her deceased father was in front of her started to settle in, her paws taking rapid steps backwards. "Y'CAN'T." She sobbed as the being took wispy strides to her, gaining distance on her. He father had the same look he adopted that fateful day back at the borders."No. No. Nonono-don't do this-PLEASE!" Hecate screamed backing into the trunk of a tree; the rope was out of slack as she watched the being speed up towards her, mouth gaining a fierce snarl. She let a soft gasp out as her fathers mouth opened and neared her muzzle. Hecate forced her eyes closed, her heart dropping painfully.  A sharp 'clack' of teeth sounded off in her ears, the stinging pressure of a cut places on the bridge of her nose. She cracked an eye open to see the plain darkness of the woods, the ghastly form of her dead father vanished from sight. Hecate took strained breaths, drinking the air like she hadn't breathed for hours.
Her heart felt like it was compressing, tears streaming down her cheeks uncontrollably. Her dad was dead and she wasn't there to give her condolences, mind automatically going towards her sister and mother. They must be coping with his loss, or did they even know? Questions flooded her as she slid down the tree's girth, tears dripping off her shaking lips. Who killed him?

(This post was last modified: Oct 26, 2015, 04:31 AM by Hecate.)

HOPE THAT COUNTS SVEN CUZ HERE HE COMES

It wasn't unusual for the boy to be wandering at strange hours. When he had either @Skoll or @Morganna to curl up with, the pale child slept soundly. The moment he found himself alone, however, no matter how deep his slumber, the rest became fitful and he would often awake. Unable to remain still for long, he would take to walking, allowing his paws to take him wherever they may. Sometimes he stayed within the guardianship of the willows. Other times, he left them behind completely to seek what the world may hold waiting for him. Tonight, he remained.

It was that single word that reached him, shrieked into the night. It froze his blood and his muscles both, but adrenaline thawed him quickly as he sprung to action. Under the impression that Hecate was being attacked, he raced fearlessly into the waiting fray, teeth bared and hackles stabbing upward. He had some experience under his belt now, as miserable of a loss as it may have been, it had done nothing to falter his confidence, instead encouraging the boy further. Only a few cuts had been sustained. A few cuts when what should've greeted him was death. He was his father's son. He could do what was needed.

Leaping onto the scene, a snarl announced his presence, pale eyes dancing about the battlefield to capture their foe. It took several careful analysis of the air and visuals around him to understand that other than a cowering Hecate, there was no one here. Confusion rapidly replaced his anger, dousing the righteous fires within him, and he padded closer to his pack mate, the woman who had saved his life a month ago, feeling irritated that she had given him such a scare over nothing.

"What happened?" he demanded to know, but as he drew close enough to notice the tears within her ivory fur, his ire diminished. A feeling of awkwardness began to creep in on him, as it had been a long time since he had experienced anything comforting and thus did not know how to impart such a foreign and recondite thing unto the girl. Tentatively, he nosed her shoulder, forcing his own barricades to drop as he asked again, "Hey... what's wrong?"

(This post was last modified: Nov 06, 2015, 06:07 AM by Sven.)

SOUNDS GOOD TO ME!

GHOSTS ARE REAL, THIS MUCH I KNOW.

The savored moments of silence were cut short, the shuffling sounds of leaves and a agitated snarl filled the cool air. Hecate drank the air in deep breaths, trying to clean herself up before anyone saw her. She wiped her tears on her forearm, clearing her throat weakly. Rather than a comforting hand to guide her, she was met by the harsh and squeaky barks of @Sven Archer. She was secretly upset that he wasn't with another adult, perhaps someone who had some experience with herbs or something of the sort. She was starting to doubt if what she had seen was real, how could it be true?

The small and warm nose shook her from her thoughts, her shoulder relaxing a bit. "Pa's dead... he's dead an it's all m-" She gave a sharp sob, biting her lip to prevent the words to penetrate him further. She must seem crazy, there was no trace of him left for proof. Hecate looked down at the boy, a crease furrowing down in her forehead. "Have y'ever thought of just runnin' away?" She asked honestly, wondering if the thought had ever crossed his mind. I mean, if he knew where is mother was, wouldn't he just want to leave? Wasn't that the purpose of him flying across the borders yelling for her?

the armed queen

There is a rabbit\'s nest nearby. +1 Health

He had expected it to be something tangible that had upset her, something that could be handled physically and simply. Something he could sink his teeth into. Instead, the woman who was so unexpectedly rendered milquetoast, spoke of a reason he had no way to expect. Slowly his ears lowered against his skull as he pulled his lengthened legs under him, reclining at her side close enough that his warm flank touched her shivering frame. Its all... he couldn't complete the sentence within his head. Archers didn't admit fault.

Then she asked him a question, and confusion crossed his features before everything fell away and he stared down at the dirt underneath their paws, contemplating such a possibility. Running away was what his mother had done, and while he yearned to deny it, deep within the darkest parts of his heart he knew that it was true. He knew now that Piety was alive, that she could be brought back to them. Sven tried to fathom if she had been dead, if Skoll was dead. The thought alone tore deeply into his heart and he swiftly pushed such imaginings away.

"No," he answered her at last, gaze remaining upon the cold, unfeeling ground. "I could never leave dad. He'd be all alone, and..." his voice caught in his throat, emotion blockading the sound. He did not want to admit it, did not want to hear it upon the air, yet the words clawed their way up onto his tongue and came out in a hissed rush, "I won't do to him what mom did."

(This post was last modified: Dec 17, 2015, 04:34 AM by Sven.)

OWW MY HEART!

@Sven, u better come thru... <3

GHOSTS ARE REAL, THIS MUCH I KNOW.

Tears rolled down her slender nose, for once not allowing herself to look into the eyes of someone else. Even though she couldn't see him, Hecate had a feeling she shocked him. She was tired and fragile tonight, dropping her guard to dangerously low levels; she hoped he wouldn't turn this on her. After moments of silence he answered the dire question. A breathy sob escaped her, trying to stifle it half way through. It was a relief to hear, he was showing confidence and strength beyond his years- a signature Sven had managed to title himself. His words hitched in his throat, a familiar scene taking place before her glassy eyes. Again, they were releasing steam together. This was practically their thing now, building each other up from the crutch of one another's shoulders. The Liar bit her lip as another slew of tears threatened to pour from her glowing orbs. "G-good. It would kill em'..." She shook, trying to suppress these feelings down deep in her stomach. "I- I would know... it killed mi-MINE!" The walls broke through as salty water stained her fur, collapsing into his weight. The memory of the paranormal experiences she saw previously began to fade away, letting the pent up emotion bleed out. Hecate's chest felt like it was filling with water; drowning her from the inside out. Each sob shuddered her body so fiercely they replicated seizures. She needed this time, she needed to let the wounds breathe rather than wrap them up under bandages and pretend they were nonexistent. Oh how Hecate wished she could pretend they had never happened, it would be so much easier to just pretend.

(This post was last modified: Dec 23, 2015, 08:14 PM by Hecate.)

the armed queen