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veloxaraptor replied to your post: I’ve never RP’d with you and I’m honestly too…

Most adorable ear wiggles

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“Her beauty drowned me. As I sat in front of her I felt that I would do anything mad for her, anything she asked of me. She was color, brilliance, strangeness.”

— Anaïs Nin, Henry and June

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Color Palette Challenge #79 - Dionysus

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50% what 50% why

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by Alex Jones

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we gonna pretend I didn’t forget Theo’s fucking illiterate in his old ass backstory. AKA someone read a letter to him. /tiny violin

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She could still feel the way her hand gripped her blade, how her heart thudded in her ears and she waited for the small group to go to where she had instructed the pick-up. Rhashir wore all black along with a matching mask to hide her identity, though she didn’t really plan on sticking around long enough for anyone to see her anyways. The man they met ushered them inside and placed a case full of drugs on the table, letting them look them over as Tilah had been given another job; one by Rhashir specifically. It was to excuse herself, sneak into the room on the end of the hall, and look for an old family heirloom. The girl was dumb enough to believe it and did just that.

Rhashir watched the doorknob turn and once Tilah stepped inside she was met with her body slammed against the door to keep it shut. “I’m so sorry,” Rhashir whispered out and quickly brought her blade against her throat. She instantly began trembling, her eyes widening as guilt already began to eat at her. However, she remembered the words that her client had told her and just as Tilah spoke out her final word, no a name, her name– Rhashir slit her throat and stepped away in horror. The knife clattered to the ground and there was so much blood. She brought those shaking hands up in view and saw the crimson that now stained them, ears pinned harshly against her head and she felt the room spin. How could she? How could she do this?

She heard Tilah’s name called from outside and it was enough to urge her out the window. She fell into the bushes below and scrambled to her feet, stumbling just as she got to them and ran. Once she was sure she was far enough away, she threw up. A hand clasped over her stomach and sobs ripped from her throat, she didn’t even deserve to shed a single tear for that girl but she did. She never thought she could hate herself, but she did. As she stood there she tried to convince herself otherwise, but it was no use. No matter how many times she told herself it was either Tilah or Theo, she only wished it had been herself instead.

Blankly, she walked back to her apartment where the client waited for her. Large hands touched her face and he cooed out sweet words, but they meant nothing. Her eyes closed and she pushed past him towards the dresser where the piece of paper he had left out for her waited. All of her things were already packed, he wanted her no where near Theo. That was part of the arrangement, he lived if she left and killed the girl. He had to hate her or die, he wanted Rhashir all to himself. She sucked in a sharp breath and wrote the words she knew that would eat at him, words she knew would make him hate her just as much as she did right now.

“You failed my lesson; always leave before you become attached. Be sure to remember that next time, because I won’t be there to clean up your mess. I do hope you learn from this.”

She didn’t bother signing it and moved to leave.

“No, I don’t buy it. Not for one second,” Theo spat. “How long did it take ya to come up with tha’ shit story? Two fuckin’ minutes? She’s worth more than an excuse.”

Rhashir closed her eyes and barely smiled, it was a way to hide her grief. “You can believe what you wish Theo, but we both know I was always honest with you from the start. I never wanted you to kill her. Nor would I want that. I was training you to be like me and I’m not— I was never a killer.”

Theo moved to grasp her by the throat and pin her against the wall, he applied just enough pressure to cause her to catch her breath before loosening it. “Stay away from me, I ain’t th’ same. I’ll kill ya ‘cause I wont fuckin’ play your games again. Ya may not like to shed blood but I do, always have,” he rasped against her ear. “I’ll hunt ya down and make ya wish you never found me to begin with.”

“Theo— I’m not playing games.”

He released her and his breath was so heavy, his shoulders heaving as he watched her with naught more than murderous intent. Ears pinned back and he couldn’t believe she was here in front of him again. He never thought she would show her face; he wanted to ruin her like she did him. He wanted to kiss her. No. No, why would he? The thought vanished just as fast as it came and he hated her for having that control over him even after all of these years. She was a serpent that coiled around him, all he cared about back then was that she kept him in her reach. He refused to give her that power once more.

“Theo I loved you,” she said with a softness in her gaze. One he had never seen from Rhashir, one that was full of vulnerability. “He knew that and he would have killed you. I had to make a choice, I chose you. I’m sorry it came to that but I couldn’t bring myself to live a day knowing I had been the cause of your death. Tilah was a very unfortunate casualty and I’m so sorry for that. Believe me, I’ve lived with that guilt every day but I’m not asking for your forgiveness. I’m asking for a little understanding.”

“Don’t,” he grasped his ears and shook his head. “Don’t ever say tha’ shit again. Ever. Even if what ya said is true, never fuckin’ say tha’ to me again.” He shoved past her and out the door, moving to go to the grimiest shit hole of a bar that Ul’dah had to offer.

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She quietly crept into his room, the darkness engulfed it like the treetops of the shroud and a single lantern light was all that flickered. The smaller keeper’s glowing eyes traced his form even in the darkness. She took a step closer, reaching down to gently shake his shoulder to stir him before she stood upright once more. Theo opened his eyes, his speech still lazy from sleep. “Wha’? Rue? What are ya doin’ in here?” She didn’t answer him and so he climbed out of his blankets, standing up to look around the room. “Fuck, what time is it?” he asked.

She shushed him by pressing a single digit to his lips, pulling on his shirt for him to meet her lips. He kissed her back hungrily, his hands immediately cupping her face and eagerly tasting her. For some reason he didn’t question the kiss, it felt familiar. It felt normal. Only, he soon tasted blood. He recoiled from her and stared down at the Miqo’te who silently met his gaze.

“Rue, what th’ fuck?”

She smiled and stepped into the light, her throat spilling blood much like the man who had just been killed in the lair. Arms slowly moved to outstretch for him as she took a step closer, her head canting as she watched him with a look of horror in her eyes now. “Isn’t this how you want me, Leana'li?” her voice questioned, only it was haunting and that of someone else’s entirely. One he hadn’t heard in a very long time.

He shot upright, sweat beading down his form and he coughed, looking toward the window to see it was still dark outside. A hand moved to shove his hair out of his face and he pulled himself up, reaching for his shirt. He threw it on and didn’t bother to button it as he crept to Rue’s room, peeking inside only enough to see if she was alright. His ears twitched and he could distinctly pick up the sound of her breath as she slept, he was almost relieved after the nightmare and moved back to her living room. Theo knew he wouldn’t be getting much more sleep after that and left, making his way to the bar to help himself instead; knowing he still had a long night ahead of him.

He grabbed some of the cheap stuff from the bottom shelf, biting into the cork to pull it free before he spit it onto the counter. He didn’t bother reaching for a glass and took a heavy swig from the bottle instead. He’s seen a lot of death, but something about seeing her standing so close to it rattled him to his core. It reminded him of that day---

She’s not Tilah.

He had to remind himself over and over that she wouldn’t meet the same fate. A curse left his lips and he brought his hands to hold his head, sucking in a shaky breath. Since when did he let his ghosts haunt him? Since when did he let things in to bother him? Theo grabbed the bottle again and tipped his head back, downing a quarter of it in one go. He wouldn’t let it happen again.

“Leana’li,” her voice was smooth as silk and he immediately recognized it.

“Fuck do you want?” he all but growled. No, he was doing that as well. Old habits died hard. Her golden eyes merely narrowed on him a moment before she sat down beside him. A hand moved to touch his shoulder, drenched in jewels just like he had remembered. She even smelled the same, sweet with exotic herb; only this time it was sickening to him instead of intoxicating. He jerked his shoulder away from her and reached for the knife on his belt. “Give me one reason-”

“-Leana’li don’t be like this.”

“It’s Theo now,” he hissed.

“Theo,” Rhashir corrected, her nose scrunching. Oh she didn’t like the way that name felt on her tongue, he hoped she choked on it. “Tell me what has you troubled.”

“Fuck off,” he stated again with a bite to his voice. He looked ready to rip her apart, his entire form trembling from anger.

“Come find me when you’re ready for the truth. It’s long overdue we had a talk.”

And just like that his ghosts were back.

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Crimson pooled in the middle of the hallway and everyone expected her to scream. Everyone’s eyes were on her as she stared at the body on the ground, her hands were hot– glowing from the energy she had just hurled at the man to keep him away. It was long enough for Aiden to strike, slitting his throat and murmuring he had saw him go for Rue; it was too much of a risk. However, Aiden looked more amused than worried like the rest. Rue thought she would scream too, but it never came. She was used to seeing blood, after all the clinic was full of wounded people. She noticed the pool inching closer to her shoes and she took a step back.

“I’ve got— I need to wash my hands. There’s blood on my hands, don’t just stand there I need a towel,” she stammered out. Her arms were outstretched and she nearly lost her footing as she pushed her back against the wall. Her gaze was locked on her own hands now, the blood that had sprayed on her now her only concern. She needed to clean this mess up. She couldn’t let them see her break, everyone said she would eventually. Everyone said she was too soft. She refused to give in. Twelve what was she doing here?

Theo grabbed her and led her to a long vacated room. One she was always told to stay away from; she never really knew why. “Go inside, he aint comin’ back anytime soon. Wash off and come out when you’re ready, we’ll get your door cleaned up, don’t worry,” he said quietly. She merely nodded, probably all she could really do was force herself to nod right now. She walked into the room and was overwhelmed by the fragrance of rum, the smell of old books, and the faint sound of water. She collapsed near the fish tank, sucking in a breath and her lungs ached.

How long had she been holding her breath?

Rue felt a sense of familiarity in this place but she was too focused on everything that had just happened to really even try place it. When she finally was able to stand again, the small Miqo’te moved to the curtain that hung in the corner, following the sound of water to the bedroom. She moved past the bed, headed to the bath and felt her head clouding. She steadied herself and it took far longer than she would have liked to admit just to unbutton her shirt. She hardly had any control of her fingers with how much they shook. Her heart was so loud in her ears she couldn’t hear anything else, not the sound of her sister calling her name. Not the sound of Theo’s voice. Nothing. She pulled her pants off and climbed into the tub still in her underwear. She glanced over her shoulder at the two faces staring at her, unable to really register whatever they told her. She just sat there in the hot water, letting Lola wash her hair while humming a song from their childhood.

You signed up for this.

Her own words rang through her head as a reminder; a way to ground her. She stared down at the spot on the floor, the small darkened spot that had already been cleaned. The spot that would be pristine once more as it dried, how many other spots were around like it? Rue fixed a stray hair, brushing it behind her ear and tugged down on her dress. Her heels echoed in the hall, even now it sounded more somber than her usual pep of a walk.

You knew they were killers.

She pressed her back against the door to allow one of the guards to pass, they eyed her a moment and Rue merely forced a smile before going down the hallway. She turned the corner and watched the many faces she had come to know as family pass her, all of them slowly washing away that feeling of terror she once had; her own spot. Hands had stopped trembling, knees had stopped giving away, and her heartbeat was steady once again. No longer a loud, erratic pounding within her chest as if it were trying to escape. Her chin tilted up and she pushed open the clinic doors. She would prove to them all she belonged here just as much as they did, that there was a reason C kept her around. That she could guard their secrets as they guarded her life; that she was one of them.

Instantly, eyes were on her. Rue’s gaze went around to each face and she could feel a difference in herself. She felt almost masked. Ears flicked back and she walked inside, snatching a chart from the table to look over. A coworker finally broke the awkward silence.

“Rue? Shouldn’t you be— we didn’t expect to see you after,” the woman let her words trail off, shaking her head with a bit of confusion. Had they expected her to quit? Take a sabbatical? Rue finally looked up from the chart, her gaze squinting a bit from behind her glasses, narrowing even.

“I’m fine,” Rue quipped. “I’ve work to do. Now, if we’re done asking questions there’s patients that need tending to.” Rue moved past the other nurses and to her desk, grabbing her things and doing what she did best: fixing things.

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u think i really give a fuck ? i can’t even read

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Those Salyt kids are never up to anything good.

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@savothesewercat What a Great show!!!

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          The Salyts are a small to medium sized clan of Keepers of the Moon that reside in the wilds of the Black Shroud, preferably far from the workings of civilized life. These nomadic traditionalists travel with the ebb and flow of food no matter the season, as to never run out of game or to risk stripping the landscape of all of its nutritional vegetation before it has a chance to regrow. Their nomadic lifestyle also allows them to evade trappers, slavers, and woodwailers that may threaten to disturb their way of life.

          As mentioned before, the Salyt clan lives a nomadic life as gatherers and hunters with strict traditions and rules that each member must follow if they are to remain with the clan. This clan tends to live in the deepest and often most dangerous parts of The Black Shroud where Gridanians and their expanding villages refuse to step foot, and are a dominantly nocturnal group. Due to this, trust and respect are must have requirements to both join and remain in the clan, not only for the survival of one but for the survival of all. Everyone has a role to play in the clan and those who cannot contribute are left behind.

          Women in the clan are most often brought up to be the hunters or shamans where as the males are given a choice as taking on the role of scouts, clan guards, or the craftsmen which turn the goods hunters bring back into food, clothing from leathers and furs, and weaponry from the bones of beasts.

          Due to the way the Salyts live, so deep in a forest that quite literally will kill on a whim, their life expectancy is not all too long. At age seventeen, women are expected to be having their first child. Around twenty-five to thirty one is considered middle aged. By fifty a Salyt is considered elderly. By sixty to sixty five, if a Salyt is still alive but can no longer contribute due to an aging body that has worked all it’s life or a failing mind, it is not uncommon for the eldests to take their own lives to ensure that resources are not spent on them. It is considered an honorable way to go to the clan, and they are offered extra care during their burial rites.

Coming of Age Ritual

          At the ripe age of nine, both boy and girls are required to take part in the coming of age tradition. This tradition consists of going with the huntress group and taking your first kill shot on prey. Children begin at a young age to learn the ways of hunting and tracking, and should be fully capable of taking prey down by nine cycles. A Salyt is not considered an adult until they are capable of feeding the clan when necessary, and this is often achieved through the use of a short bow. The huntresses will continue to take children out until they have taken their first kill shot, but will not offer them any further instruction on how to complete the task.

Inter-Clan Relations

          The Salyt clan welcomes other small clans to join them for short periods of time as long as joining forces is lucrative to all clans. Alliances are often seasonal or temporary due to the Salyts nature of picking up and moving around the Shroud often. They generally consist of separate campsites for each clan in close proximity to each other, to which the Salyt clan keeps one scout to watch their ally’s campsite at all times.

          Outside of inter-clan relationships established by matriarchs and leaders, the Salyt clan often responds to outsiders firstly with violence to incapacitate a person before investigating their reasons for being near their clan and what their intentions are. If they are deemed even the slightest of threat, they are either killed or brutally maimed and sent free to give warning to villages or other clans. Due to this, it is common for Gridanians and civilized folk that have heard of the elusive Salyt clan to call them savages and brutes.

           Physically Salyts typically have pale and ashy skin, giving them a corpse like appearance with desaturated colours when it comes to usually thick hair and fur. Their eyes, however, are generally brighter colours with large pupils that reflect in the low light of night. Fangs are typically large set, and around 30% of Salyts are born with retractable claws which can be quite sharp. Body types, sizes, and tail shapes are varying and ears tend to be in one sense or another quite large and often very mobile to keep tabs on their surroundings.

          Their clothing often consists of furs and hide with the occasional cloth gained from hand weaving or the rare case of trade. It’s not uncommon to see both men and women in the warm seasons without chest coverings for the sake of keeping cool. Small jewelry and trinkets are hung from their clothing, often hand made from materials they find or trophy bits of bone from hunting. 

          Salyts have a tendency to take on animalistic behaviours, and they can find it troublesome communicating with humanoids that do not possess fur, moveable ears, or tails. They are often accustomed to the many indicators and cues to communication, emotion, and thoughts that come from such body features. For example, the bristling of fur to show apprehensiveness or the thrashing of a tail paired with growls and snarls to show distaste or act as a warning. Salyts also use huntspeak in the right settings, but they do learn the common tongue - although sometimes broken in nature.

          Everything in life about a Salyt is about survival. There is no shame in losing a fight, or fleeing (though abandoning kin is looked down upon) if it means you survive another day.

Weaponry & Battle

          The most common weapon used in the Salyt clan are short bows with arrow heads carved of bone or stone when in a pinch. They are used in both hunting and defense of the clan. Spears are also used but are often limited to one spear holder per hunting party, and are more traditionally used for clan protection. Large battle axes made of stone, bone, and wood are the main weapon of war against other humanoids for the Salyts due to their devastating power to cut through armor to cut or even crush enemies. Smaller throwing axes are a must have secondary weapon on all, whether they are hunting or defending and tend to learn early on how to accurately throw them. Blades such as swords and daggers are not very common in the clan outside of carving knives.

          When it comes to battle Salyts are both brutal but tactical, using guerrilla warfare and the landscape to their advantage. Most Salyts, after growing to adults, wear war paints with minute traces of poison in them. Since infants they have been exposed to the the mild poison and have grown a tolerance for it, but if ingested or slipped into the bloodstream by enemies without this tolerance it will cause minor illness that includes nausea and headaches. It is nothing life threatening, but instead used to tip the scales in the favour of a Salyt.

          The Salyt clan, however, are ultimately a survival oriented clan. Due to this they prefer to avoid outright battle with others and sometimes contact all together.

          The Salyt clan is a dominantly matriarchal society in which the High Matriarch is usually a woman with both childbearing experience and still of childbearing age, making the ideal age of the Matriarch between mid thirties to mid forties. Her responsibilities include clan protection, leading the clan on their travels, trade and inter-clan dealings, granting approval of newborns, and upholding strict traditions despite her personal feelings on the matter.

          A Matriarch is chosen based on a clan vote, rather than succession. When a Matriarch is voted in, however, she retains that power until her death. Two to three candidates are chosen by a Matriarch before she passes away. If she dies in a manner in which she cannot voice them, it is discussed amongst the clan based on their memories of the late Matriarch to who she may have picked. Due to the high need of trust and respect in the clan for survival, very few to no clan member would ever be believed to be lying during the discussion process. After candidates are chosen, a vote is taken and the woman with the most votes becomes the Matriarch. It is a lifelong responsibility that is not often sought after due to the high stakes.

          The Salyt clan, while fully believing in the Twelve, do not worship any one God. Instead, the clan reveres the wilds that they live in and worship the Black Shroud like a living, breathing god of its own. A great respect is given to nature, whether it be plant life or animal life. Disrespecting the forest is among the highest of heresy in the Salyt clan, right up there with the crime of kinslaying. There is a symbiotic relationship between this clan and the wilds. For instance, if a clan member were to gather flora or vegetation for medicinal use or sustenance, they must give back to the forest something of equal value that has been taken and often results in immediately replanting seeds so it may regrow. It is not uncommon for a Salyt to kill gluttonous poachers or maim those who do not give back the resources they take, although they have been known to teach the rare travelers they come across in how to sustain the land with an annoyed demeanor.

          The kills taken for the protection of the wilds are used as offerings to the forest as well, the corpses of which are often left in known hunting grounds for the predators of the forest donned with ritualistic flora and the rare addition of scraps of meat which the clan cannot find use for before it rots.

Hunting Practices

          Due to the worship of nature, Salyt hunting comprises of a few key rules. The first of which is to never go hunting without a pack of three to four huntresses. Hunting alone in a forest with a will its own is highly dangerous and is thought to guarantee in death, as game will often flee to thickets to hide or lose the huntresses. Secondly, sustainable hunting practices must be enforced. A huntress who takes more than needed, or hunts mothers with young are punishable offenses. Thirdly, a kill must be as painless as possible and because of this, the most common hunting tool used is a short bow to deliver a quick shot straight to the heart.

          After a kill the body is respectfully taken back to the main campsite, where the huntresses will allow shamans to quickly purify and give the beast it’s rites before dismembering it. Every part of the kill gets used, whether it’s meat for food, bones for weapons, leather and hide for clothing, or organs for medicinal use. The skull is taken buried in respect for the beast, to return it to the soil that it was birthed from.

Healing & Magic

          Magic is not something the Salyts dabble with, nor do they enjoy being around those that use it. They believe it to be a bad omen and that the failings of the past should serve as a warning to stay away from such practices for the sake of survival. Because of this belief, the shamans that the Salyt clan have focused on homeopathic and botanical medicine.

          If an injury is life threatening, the shamans will do all they can without resorting to magic. If the patient is too far gone, they do what they can to make them comfortable and allow nature to take its course. Salyt shamans believe the ability to resurrect or heal wounds are an aberration against nature and will bring misfortune upon the soul that has been aided by this magic.

          A few times a cycle the Salyt clan will gather with other clans for mating purposes. It is custom for the father to be unknown to rid the sense of ownership when it came to children, so Salyt women take on multiple partners during breeding season. Partners are chosen primarily on their survival abilities and genetics that will give strong children that can live in the harshness of the wilds. Physical strength is not necessarily the dominant desired trait when it comes to children. Salyt women have a varying degree of desire for intelligence, instincts, reflexes, or speed. For example, men that may not be physically strong but display quick thinking and reflexes still stand a good chance at breeding opportunities in the clan. It is considered a personal choice for which survival traits a woman wants her children to inherit. Having a static relationship and monogamy are considered highly unusual and not often practiced.

          Inbreeding is strictly prohibited and children born due to inbreeding are destroyed by the Matriarch. Much to the same extent, runted children are often adored on for a few hours after birth and then abandoned in the wilds for nature to take its course in the strong belief that runts will never survive the harsh landscape and seasons that the clan often endures. It is preferred for children to be born in spring or early summer, so they have the full warm season to grow and fatten up for winter, but winter children are not unheard of either.

          Men are instilled from a young age with reverence for the rigors women endure with childbearing and taught respect, and often are fiercely protective of all women with child. In the same sense, women are protective of their men and will not allow other clan women during this season to mistake the respect of their men for submission. Due to the mystery nature of who’s child belongs to who, the men of the clan typically act as father figures to all children and consider each child born to the clan as one of their own. Men are also encouraged to bring back children they may have sired whose mothers cannot care for them, rejected them, or passed away. Because of this healthy orphaned Keeper children with no place to go have a good chance of being taken in by the Salyt clan, whether they share bloodlines with the clan or not.

          The entire clan claims responsibility for child rearing, and while children clearly answer to their mothers they are also taught and overseen by the entire clan. Children are taught from a young age that their teeth, primarily their fangs, are their greatest weapon in any emergency. Often the children fight for food and resources, and have been described as acting like wild animals which sometimes continues into adults, earning Salyts the reputation of being a brand of beasts themselves rather than humanoids. Roaring, snarling, snapping of teeth, and instinctive responses are encouraged and nurtured for the majority of their lives.

          Burial rituals for this clan tie back into their worship of the wilds that they live in and are used as another offering to the forest. Upon death the body is collected and wrapped to keep animals and insects at bay long enough for a suitable young sapling to be located that is thought to embody the personality of the diseased; thick barked for someone who was strong or vast canopies for those who were nurturing for example. When the tree is located, a grave of around six to seven feet is carefully dug around the root system and the body is lowered into it with no covering, clothes, or material goods. It is believed that by burying the deceased like this will allow the tree to absorb the nutrients that the body provides, leading to the deceased to giving back to the wilds that gave them life for so long as well allowing their essence to be forever embedded in the tree to watch over future generations.

          This ritual causes the Salyts to be extremely protective of the trees of the forest, and they will kill without question anyone that attempts to cut down a tree which an ancestor is joined with. When logging for their own purposes, collecting dry wood that has already fallen or dead trees is prefered over the cutting of living trees. When it is necessary that a fresh tree must be cut for resources, much time is taken and deliberation amongst the clan’s elders over which tree to take down to ensure no burial tree is accidentally disturbed.