Avatar of shylarah

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Recent Statuses

2 yrs ago
Current The way some people spell makes me wonder about their pronunciation.
3 likes
8 yrs ago
They say it's about the journey, not the destination. This is true of many things. Pizza delivery is not one of them.
4 likes
8 yrs ago
TFW you know what you want to happen but the words aren't cooperating. Why is plot suddenly so much harder to write?
8 likes
8 yrs ago
So ded. Cannot brain. Just one massive poorly coordinated and balance-lacking headache. But don't send help. I don't want to people either. X.x
4 likes
8 yrs ago
Glad to see I'm not the only follower of Lord Cato, god of wisdom, on this most auspicious Superb Owl Sunday.
1 like

Bio

I am an adult, though I don't usually act like it. I'm a voracious reader, and not overly picky about books. I am artistic in a variety of areas, including music, drawing, writing, and sculpting. I have a minor obsession with dragons, and love the color violet. Fantasy is my preferred genre, be it past, future, urban...as long as it has a fantasy flavor to it. I also like scifi, mystery, and some horror. I am crazy, and I like tormenting my characters. But I don't bite...much. ^.~


Color Sergeant in Bot Killer Squad

Most Recent Posts

The moorcat looked at Nymira as she came near, making no protest to her approach. Amuné pulled away at the Dimuran's touch, and refused to look at her. The girl was too busy sobbing to hear the guards. She did notice being picked up, however, and was not happy about that. Nymira was strange -- she looked funny, being Dimuran, and she was arrogant and rude and Amuné wasn't sure if she liked the woman. People she wasn't sure about were not a welcome presence at the moment, but the girl was in no mood to tell them in a reasonable fashion. Instead she did what came naturally to overwhelmed children.
She threw a fit.

Wyth pinned his ears back in displeasure. He adored his girl, but the loud noises she was making were awful. She did that sometimes, when upset, angry, or even a combination of the two, and while those certainly weren't good feelings, they were better than the hurt and terror she'd been expressing earlier. The cat brushed past Nymira's knees to let her know that he didn't mind what she was doing, and stayed beside her on the way to the gangplank.

The attitude of the guards, however, along with the shiny sharp sticks they held, did not meet with his favor. Wyth pushed passed the woman that carried his girl, his fur bristling. Nymira's steady tone, and the cooperation both she and the man gave these newcomers told him not to attack first, but he wouldn't just watch if they started something, nor did he want them close to his girl with their weapons out.
@AlexStarsion You gonna tweak it to be "the one responsible" instead of "Magi"? Or have him say he's not a Magi? Also I don't believe the guards accused anyone of being a Magi where our group could hear it. One thought it, but it wasn't said. @Vena Sera, correct me if I'm wrong? It's not completely clear from your post.
@SleepingSilence <.<;; That would have been clever if I'd've thought of it. *awkward giggles*
Please don't mind me, I'm testing colors.

blahlight steel blueblah
blahthistleblah
blahkhakiblah
blahpale greenblah

WE HAVE A WINNER.
((@Jewels is Shakti, of course.))

Casara Talbot passed through the checkpoint separating the East End from the West, feeling impatient at the delay it invariably caused her. As a courier, she crossed all over Enigma several times over the course of a day, and a good number of the guards knew her on sight. Some of them -- mostly the nicer ones -- were perhaps a bit less thorough when they screened her. But it wasn’t nearly as fast as the tunnels. For that matter, the streets as a whole were sometimes slower than the tunnels -- not to mention they had far more /people/. She focused on keeping her breathing even. She nodded to the guards on duty that she recognized, as they finally waved her through.

Adjusting the strap of her bag, she made her way into the West End, checking the address on her clipboard. She knew the location, and before long she’d made her delivery. It was early afternoon by then, and she’d been running around nearly nonstop since that morning. It was time for a break, and some lunch, and she needed to get groceries for home anyhow. In addition to the things she got for herself, she grabbed a bag of butterscotch candies after noticing they were on special.

The young woman tucked a stray lock of blonde hair back under her cap before unwrapping her sandwich. When she reached the apartment building that was her next destination, she still had a third of it left. She went right past the elevator and up the narrow flight of stairs near the back of the building. She never took elevators, not unless she had something with her that couldn’t be easily maneuvered up the nearest staircase. Elevators were small, which wasn’t so bad, but if there was someone else there, or if they got on after you did, there was absolutely nowhere to go.

In the sharp light of the stairwell, she caught glimpses of it watching as the lights overhead threw her shadow first behind, then ahead. Cas had long ago learned that it was best to pretend she couldn’t see it, always lurking nearby. After all, no one /else/ could -- at least not most of the time. If they could, it was time to run, run, run -- before her Shadow, her curse, claimed more lives.

It didn’t like to move. There were so many beings in passing that it was difficult to brace for all of them, particularly with the limitations Shakti had. Its world ended where light encroached, and the one who carried it with her did so enjoy the light for that reason. Hell had made Shakti a being of paranoia, and without a body, there was no other sensation for it to have except those of its own mind, and it was a fragmented mind in the best of times.

It had the sensation of moving blindly, able to peer through holes in its own darkness here and there, where shadows might linger. Every living thing it passed was a threat to it and the one who carried it, but it could not act upon it lest she make good on her threat to end her life in the light and bury it in this limbo for eternity. At least, that’s how it felt. What the anchor didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her, though.

It’d keep preying on small and weak things while she slept, and be more devious about its protection in the future. Nonzero risk was too much risk, after all.

It waited in the dark.
@AlexStarsion What does the whistle do? Anything? Additionally, why didn't Zander show them the seals? That would show he's not a Magi -- or at least, might convince them he's not.
@Pree Haa, the Star Wars series survived because it was such a huge classic. I'm so amused. AND HITCHHIKER'S GUIDE, oh my gosh, I love you. *rolls over* AHAHA. A violin instead of a bell. BUt do you know how /bad/ the sound from a poor violin player can be? I mean, it's /far/ worse than the sound of a bell. But now I see someone coming in, knowing how to play, and serenading Kharlee with a skilled rendition of some song. <3 Ah, but there's a reference to the guy from the Devil went down to Georgia. *flails*

I do think that monsters work under other monsters. I mean, there's things they wouldn't trust humans to do, or positions humans just can't fill. Though maybe Azura just hasn't encountered any of them. *shrug*

Aww, I'm not sure if romance, taking advantage of the moment, or teasing but the kiss is cute~

@Melo, the link in Archi's entrance is broken

not finished reading; will finish when I get home
@antman0623 Water temples in the Zelda games tend to be brutal. They're often That One Level.
Name: Casara "Cas" Talbot (pseudonym: Castor Mallory)
Age: 19
Attire/Appearance: Casaya is a tall young lady, easily the equal in height of the average male human. Her rough childhood and active lifestyle have made her a lean, wiry woman, and genetics have been sparing with their usual gifts: her hips are narrow and her bust small. Her features are androgynous, though on the rough side, and she is a far cry from what most would call beautiful. She falls somewhere between mildly cute and unremarkably plain. She keeps her dirty blond hair cropped to a short bob, and even when she's not disguising herself as Castor Mallory, she comes across as a bit boyish. When she's at home, Cas likes wearing longer skirts that don't hinder her movement, and looser blouses. She also has a few hair clips that she is fond of. For her job as a courier, and most of the time when she goes out, she dresses in close-fitting attire, generally slacks and long sleeved shirts. Fingerless gloves, a hat, sturdy shoes, and of course her bag round out the outfit.
Race: human
Gender: female
Occupation: courier
Location: South End, but she moves around the East and West Ends as well.

Brief History: Casara was born in the South End, the second child of a couple that were reasonably well-off, at least in terms of what a human could achieve. Her father owned a shoe store, and her mother would sometimes make things from excess material. When the girl was five, her older brother was taken by monsters. He never returned, and Cas believes he is dead.

Shortly after her eleventh birthday, members of a small cult grabbed both her and her parents. They ritually tortured and killed the two adults in front of their daughter, forcing her to watch. As they approached her, she passed out, and when she came to she was the only one left alive, for those in robes had been slaughtered.

Cas wasn't sure what had happened, but she knew her parents were now dead. She fled the building, eventually finding her way back to familiar streets, and she made her way to where her aunt and uncle lived. A couple days later, she woke to find them lying dead in the kitchen, ripped apart. A neighbor she knew found her huddled at the other end of the house the next day, unable to bring herself to come close enough to the bodies to reach the door. That neighbor took her in, though he was unable to get the girl to tell him or his wife what happened.

That night was disturbed only by nightmares, but the next, when the neighbor's wife tucked the child into bed and blew out the light, a shadow rose beside her and sliced open the woman's throat. The dead woman's husband came running at Cas's screams, to find the girl knocked off the bed and the small knife her uncle had given her lying across the room after she'd tried to stab the shadow with it. Calling the girl cursed, he demanded she leave -- fortunately for him, from outside the shade's effective range. Having no choice, she left.

Over the next few days, Cas found herself having nightmares while awake, seeing destruction and bloody horrors in the shadows, and hearing chilling whispers. When the gang of street urchins found her, the girl was doubting herself and her sanity. She didn't know if the thing she'd seen at the neighbor's house was real or not. She couldn't rest, save when she could find somewhere during the day that was well-lit but out of the way. Nights were spent trying to ignore the voices and visions that tormented her. The other children thought her more than a little odd, but they took her in anyhow, letting her sleep in the farthest corner of the building they'd appropriated, and letting her keep a lantern lit as a nightlight, to keep the worst of the terrors away.

For three whole months, the girl's curse claimed no lives. She learned from the others where the best spots were to find food scraps that others might have thrown out, how and what to steal, and how to make the most of everything. But one evening, worn out from a close call and a narrow escape, nobody remembered to check that the lantern would last through the night.

Cas woke to screaming, and again she saw the awful shadow creature. It was clearer this time, as it tore into the panicking children. The girl grabbed the empty lantern and ran. Maybe she was crazy, but it seemed the man had been right -- she was also cursed. The next four years she spent on her own, only daring to get anywhere near other people while the sun was in the sky, and even then she avoided interaction.

A lone girl is not particularly safe, and eventually what little luck she had ran out. A band of unsavory ruffians caught her by surprise, and though she managed to win free of them, she was badly injured in the scuffle. Cas ran from them, but the group was determined, partially because she'd scored a knee to the groin of their leader. Realizing it was a choice between their deaths and hers, she found an alley that lay in shadow, and there she stopped. She kept herself from looking away as the shadow that haunted her ripped the two closest apart, and frightened the rest away.

The girl lost track of things for a while, and when she regained awareness, she found the worst of her injuries had been roughly seen to. Still weak, Cas dragged herself a short ways to somewhere a little more sheltered than in plain view of anyone passing the alley. She wasn't strong enough to make her way back to where she now made her home, but at least she had some supplies, mostly what she'd stolen that day before things got messy. The weapons the gang used were none to clean, and several of the injuries they inflicted became infected.

When she recovered from her fever, her surroundings had changed. The man there said she was lucky some shadowy person had grabbed him and dragged him into the alley, or he wouldn't have found her. At first Cas didn't really understand how the sequence of events he relayed could have come to pass, but eventually comprehension dawned. When Terrence left to run on errands, she grabbed her knife and hauled herself off to find somewhere dark. Addressing her murderous shadow for the first time, she gave it an ultimatum: stop slaughtering everyone that came near, or she would destroy something it valued -- herself.

Things improved after that, though her years of avoiding darkness and people have left Cas a very different person. She is not very fond of people, especially crowds, and it took a long time before her fear of the dark ceased to be debilitating. She tries to keep people away by covering her shyness with a rough attitude and a stern expression, but she's not been as successful at this as she would like, as her nature tends to be more friendly. Between that and her work, Cas is on good terms with a number of people, though she acknowledges only a small number as actually being friends. One of these is Terrence, the doctor that saved her life. Her appearance has changed significantly as well, so that even in a dress she bears little resemblance to the demon-summoning child that rumors would claim she was. She continues to use the name Cas Mallory and deliberately present herself as a boy. Her relationship with the creature in her shadow has improved somewhat, mostly because while it does still deliberately torment her on occasion, it is no longer a constant thing.

Other: The shadowy Shakti is bound to Cas, able to manifest in shadows near her.
@Sodium Aw c'mon, I can't decide. Honestly, I'm good with either. *waffles* I kinda think I'm leaning towards water, actually. In the case of the fire-affinity, it's conflict. In the case of the shadows, it's got subtleties I might use.

Also your title is great. *giggles*
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