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4 yrs ago
Current Masses are always breeding grounds of psychic epidemics.
4 yrs ago
The highest, most decisive experience is to be alone with one's own self. You must be alone to find out what supports you, when you find that you can not support yourself.
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5 yrs ago
One cannot live from anything except what one is.
5 yrs ago
The slave to virtue finds the way as little as the slave to vices.
5 yrs ago
The core of an individual is the mystery of life, which dies when it is 'grasped'. That is also why symbols want to keep their secrets.

Bio

The Harbinger of Ferocity


Agent of the Wild, Aspect of the Ferine
Nature, red in tooth and claw.

"There is, indeed, no single quality of the cat that man could not emulate to his advantage."
- Carl Van Vechten

I am, at my core, a personification and manifestation of those things whose blood and hearts run red with the ferocity of the animal world. It is this which convicts and controls my works, my writing, my being; the force and guidance in which I gain wisdom from. It is what inspires me as a creator and weaver of words, the very thing I admire as an author.

My leanings, savage as they are, are of the feline sort as there exists no greater lineage of beasts whom can be drawn from. No others captivate and motivate my talent and skill as the greatest of cats do.

Most Recent Posts

For the adventure again through the bats' portion of the cave, @Hekazu, Brannor rolls a 15 for his disadvantaged Stealth (Dexterity) check, with a bonus from Guidance of 2. With a total of 17, he at least has decent odds of remaining hidden.
Unchecked lit candles is a dangerous indeed to say the very least so such a concern is not ill placed. As my nature is one toward the more paranoid, I do not believe I could forget. Any and all potential threats or matters of urgency and caution tend to consume my thinking. As well, I appreciate something simple and conceptually old as the burning of things for their scent; the idea itself is appealing.
As it appears people will be closing then, I too will resign. I largely left in awaiting an outcome of some posts to get matters moving but it appears generally all members became preoccupied at the same time and the fragmentation of that was an issue. I would regard the looseness of it as a success, however.
I cannot whistle, no, @Hellion. Music and rhythm elude me and are particularly foreign elements. I can appreciate them but I cannot do them myself.
There is no instrument I have ever played or learned to play.
That sort of thing I do myself if only to preserve them for longer periods, as fine candles are not inexpensive goods still. I feel they add a nice touch to the environment, not overwhelming, in those cases and that is notably important. The small accents, not the massive set pieces of a dwelling.
Come to think of it, I haven't had a candle as that in some time. Typically I do not lend myself in that direction for them but that may be something to consider. There is something novel to open flame as candles, part of the reason I have them at all, but wood smoke wasn't a scent I had thought of using through them.

Los Angeles, California
Elsewhere


The vanishing act was timely, if at least for the reason that it afforded a chance to withdraw from the events. It was most timely if for the fact that the sirens hadn't stayed completely idle at this point; a few more were drawing nearer still, almost as if wandering in from all directions. Predator didn't lack any understanding that they were not after him now, that whatever drew out the two contrasting figures in the masked and costumed men was truly the cause, or that the law would never have had any idea just where it was unless by sheer accident, but that did not change the need to up and leave. So, each foot pitter-pattering across the gravel of the rooftop, passing by rows of undisturbed pigeons that had no idea just how close a predator was, the game was on to find a place to call its own.

That journey took the tiger a ways but it was a rewarding one in the end. An old, decrepit series of apartments would come to be the place in the end. It wasn't difficult finding a place to rest in it, it was full of tucked away dark corners, and likely did not draw too many visitors. The air after all was musty and few prints of wayward shoes lined the floor, even less toward the higher floors. The seclusion was good enough, particularly for an animal well known for trying to keep itself out of sight and out of mind - except for when tampering with others' in this case.
That is one benefit of the cold, another is the abundance of wood smoke and campfires that are burning near myself. There is something special to the air being filled with the warmth and the scent at a distance on chill wind, all drifting over the quiet. As well, there has been much more snow, which has been all to great pleasure as it puts the world back to ease.
Unusually, I have never reached the point of being "hungover". The majority of my experience with it was being the only one with the wherewithal to act in sobriety. I have mentioned it here before, but I do not partake as it offers me nothing, although I have dabbled to try and understand why people do so at all.
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