[P]  Fleeting Memories

Newt

6 y/o xlarge Female

Whispers called to her in the depths of the falling waters. Their voices echoed in the depths of her labyrinth mind. Brilliant violet eyes searched for their sources as the world around her shifted. Soft caressing illusion safety did pool around her limbs. The air around her began to form into a soft fog as it rolled around her. Their tendrils embraced her eggplant coat with a false attempt at security. Everything was always uncertain when the reality and illusions blended into one. 
 
Enormous paws pressed against the soft earth. She flexed her toes deeper into the soft spring mud. When she withdrew it the waters around it consumed what was left of her imprint. “Fitting.” She said, her voice sounded husky and unused. How long had it been since she had spoken into reality? Was her mind simply portraying the existence of what she wished for? She could never truly tell the difference. Perhaps that was why her mind always teetered on here and there.
 
She huffed at the fog that rolled around her. It always found its way to haunt her. When in reality she was merely haunting herself. It took far too much time to dive into the past trauma that plagued her in order to remember the sanity that she was born from. Instead the voices in the fog did taunt her mind into madness. There were ways to bring her back to the surface but she had lost those ways. However, the blood of her blood always knew how to call her back. It was unfortunate she had lost them all in her madness.
 
“Light the candle, remember the song, to find your way through the forgotten thorns.” She murmured, in and an attempt to remind her that the road she traveled wasn’t always upside down. Sometimes the truth of reality came crashing down on her in the guise of teeth and fury. Sometimes it came in smiles and manipulation. All the while someone always wished something from her heavy physique. Why have a monster that was unusable? Surly someone remembered what it was like to hold combat with a behemoth like her? All those broken promises and false queens and kings. They had never imagined that she would one day wear a twisted crown of bones and blood. She was the queen slater after all, or had they all forgotten her?

"Newt Speaks,"

 
Table @Centience

@Octavia
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Octavia

2 y/o xlarge Female
Octavia Blake

“Light the candle, remember the song, to find your way through the forgotten thorns.”

the sound of a husky voice found her audits, drawing her from her nap — which in all fairness she wasn't in that deep of a sleep anyway, when she did sleep in the dead of night she slept like she was dead. Nothing could wake her, immune to the worlds happenings, but this, her bright eyes which contrasted against a dark face slowly flickered open. Ears drawing atop her crown to try and catch the lyrics over the roar of the falls, listening for movement, or anything else that might follow the hum of words. She sighed then, reluctant to rise straining to hear any sound over the falls persistent static. Octavia remained where she was for quite some time, only staring blankly into the distance perhaps lazily searching for the source of the sound. Moments passed, lingering aimless silence before she finally decided she'd had enough waiting. The behemoth pushed herself up, taking the time to stretch rolling her massive shoulders before she drew from the shadows, the confines of the treeline in which she'd called home these last few weeks. 

Upon exiting her cove, stretching out her back as she moved, the spikes which line her rump shifting with her motion her gaze came to fall on the only source of the words. It was nothing but another beast, the first she'd seen, her sharp eyes cast over the other woman, breathing in her matching hues of plum and shadows. But where Octavia's fur grew darker, where she had black stripes cascading across her side, this womans color fell to lighter shades of grey and soot. "Well, this is the first i've seen of my...kind" she rumbled, large, daunting - amazonian. But this woman lacked something — Octavia's intimidating set of horns; and a plated nose to match. This one bore no mutations in fact. Her mind danced on the idea of colliding skulls with this one, was her size enough to protect her? Or would she quake beneath the impact? She wanted to know. 

The behemoth strode forward, invading the other womans space easily; assuming she did not pull away from her invasion of her bubble. Blackened nose reaching out to push her nose into the fur around the ruff of the other womans neck, wanting to breath in her scent. Who are you? She asked with body language alone.

Table by Centience. Art by marinated mermaid @ DA
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Newt

6 y/o xlarge Female

A mirage seemed to find its way at her door. Violet much like her down did call to her. Her brilliant eyes did turn towards the heavy women that had called to her. The distance between them was swiftly eradicated. The heaviness of her body pushed against the buddle that many disliked being intruded upon. However, she wasn’t like many other souls. The abuse that had come her way, over and over again, had stripped her of that need to have distance from others. It was simply natural to her for another to invade her space as they wished.
 
The women’s nose pushed against her soft plum coat. Everything inside her felt stirred by the sensation. It pulled that small voice from inside her to question if this was one of her kin. The amount of Saxe that riddled the world was far greater than she was aware of. Her children had poured her legacy into the world in waves of chaos. Her dragon was testament enough of how much she didn’t know where her bloodline continued. Her violet gaze shifted over the heaviness of Octavia’s crown. They glided over those horns and she wondered how they felt.
 
The small voice inside her head whispered of possibilities. The aggression that could come from such tools, it was almost exciting. Yet, she couldn’t quite bring herself to believe that this was real. Her mind was still a whirlwind of uncertainty. She wanted that clarity she had acquired when the crown of bones sat neatly on her head. That queen still lurked in the depths of her madness.
 
With the question lingering in the feel of the women against her fur she took it upon herself to test her theory. She head craned to the side of those monstrous horns as she parted her jaws to grasp a small amount of fur into her jaws and bite down enough to get a hint of blood. It painted her tongue in waves of reality. She rolled it around her mouth to help anchor her.
 
“Newt.” Was what she uttered, her name to the women before her. It took her a moment to think of more then just her words. The disappointment that filled her was evident, as the blood was not tinged with that of her kind. It was something that always brought her back to them. She couldn’t explain how she knew the difference but she always did. “Newt Saxe is who I am, and you?” she asked, although she was uncertain how the women would react to her assault on her flesh. She hadn’t been aggressive with her intent but she had still split blood.



"Newt Speaks,"

 
Table @Centience

@Octavia
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Octavia

2 y/o xlarge Female
Octavia Blake

This was the most unusual encounter even for her, Octavia buried herself into the plush fur of the womans neck, allowing her nose to press deeper and deeper into the warmth. Roughly pushing angling her head down to rub the top of her head against the strangers chest as if greeting and old friend. No outsider looking in would ever have guessed that the pair only just met, mere minutes shared between them rather than years like it appeared. Octavia would give a huff, deeply breathing in the womans scent, but surprise found her when she felt a pinch of teeth against her flesh. It wasn't by any means hard, just enough to break the skin and she had a high pain tolerance hardly feeling the notion. But to her, it was still a sign of tender aggression asking for combat and who was she to deny her? "Newt." came the womans words, a name slipped from her dark maw. “Newt Saxe is who I am, and you?” she huffed, tucking the name away into the back of her mind, but she didn't answer for quite a while, running her head over the womans chest and neck in rough nuzzles before finally drawing back. 

Hulking frame would move back a step or two, creating just enough space between them before she would utter her name. "Octavia blake," she muttered before digging her claws into the earth, roughly pushing her body up off the ground with both front feet she would rear her head back tucking her paws close to her chest, the movements mimicking that of a ram as she came back down attempting to collide her own skull violently with the other womans head. If successful and strong enough, assuming she could get a square hit the attack would be rattling, the force of her own would ricochet through the others body - and unknowingly to Octavia she had some magick to back up her punches.

attacks: Octavia is attempting to bash Newt in the head with her own head lol

"speaking,"


Table by Centience. Art by marinated mermaid @ DA
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Newt

6 y/o xlarge Female


The world around her swirled with uncertainty and yet clarity seemed to seep into her with the taste of metal on her tongue. It helped her mind stay grounded as she watched the women, who uncannily resembled one that may be mistaken for a Saxe, pushed deeper into her coat. The feeling of it was almost odd. How long had it been since she had felt the possible affections of another? When violence was the word of chose her family discussed things in.
 
The women had invaded her space. Practically shoved herself all over her. Yet she felt no discomfort or outrage. The feeling of others encroaching in her space wasn’t something uncommon to her. However, she never truly understood the outrage others felt when their spaces were occupied. How did they truly know each other if they didn’t know all aspects of one another? The thoughts swirled around her mind as the women finally revealed her own name.
 
Part of her was disappointed to know that although they shared similar coat coloring and size they weren’t relatives. Well, at least not imitate ones. Her children had ventured off and invaded the world with her legacy. Even she was unaware the amount of Saxe that wandered the world now. All she knew was that she was the first.
 
Something caught her attention as the women pushed away from her. The lack of contact felt cold. Part of her was subconsciously soothed by the physical contact. It was not to be withdrawn for long. This new women wished to test her. She had drawn herself backwards. Her legs curling under her body for support as she reared her head back and aimed to slam it directly into her own. Even if she was curious how hard those horns could feel she knew better than to simply stand there and take it. Memory loss was already something she struggled with. A possible TBI injury was not something she needed to add to it.
 
She reacted as quickly as she could, given how close the distance between them was, and attempted to move towards the side to avoid the women’s head butt. She hit the right side of her head and stars ignited in her vision. She would attempt to sidestep and create a bit more distance between her head and that of her companions. However, the promise of violence and blood was truly tempting. There was nothing more grounding then slamming body into body. To feel the exhaustion fill her and the adrenalin electrify her body was intoxicating.
 
If she wanted to play then she would be happy to oblige. She only knew that avoiding a direct impact with Octavia’s horns was first priority. Some curiosities were better off not explored. The hair around her neck stood upright as a grin slipped over her lips and a low rumble filled her heavy chest. She would attempt to shove towards the side of Octavia’s neck to grasp it and keep those horns in check.
 
Attack: newt is attempting to push forward and grab towards Octavia’s neck to grab it and hold it to keep those horns in check.


"Newt Speaks,"

Table @Centience

@Octavia
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Octavia

2 y/o xlarge Female
Octavia Blake

The rush of contact was electricity through her veins, adrenaline beginning to flood through her body and mind as the rest of the world around them seemed to fade from existence. This moment becoming all that would exist, tunnel visioning upon her opponent with a hunger for more burning in those chartreuse pools of fire. 

She had only clipped the woman, and disappointment was what found Octavia next, an aggravated huff escaping from dark nostrils. Her horns were of course Octavia's source of power, backed by her large amazonian framework, power - raw power was what she was. What she lived for. 

The other womans gaping purple jaws came, reaching for Octavia's throat, she felt the teeth the tight grip upon her flesh, not enough to break skin but an attempt from the other woman to bite and hold. The woman would give a chuckle, using the angle of the womans head - and her own brute strength with the weight of her thirty pound horns to shake off Newts grip. Immediately upon freeing herself would she dig her nails into the earth, plunging her head forward toward Newts chest - and had she made contact she would immediately throw her head into it in an attempt to shove the woman off balance and hopefully onto the ground below. 

attacks: Attempting to ram into newts chest (1) and then proceed to shove her to the ground (2)

"speaking,"


Table by Centience. Art by marinated mermaid @ DA
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Newt

6 y/o xlarge Female


Violence was engrained in her essence. She had known it at such a young age. The way the body moved, the feeling of teeth on flesh, and the way the blood fell from their bodies all sang a unique symphony. Her mind was still swirling around in fragmented illusions. The reality and fantasy of her life still merged in and out. it faltered her concentration and determination as she would soon find the women she was conversing with slip free from her heavy jaws.
 
She had no distance between them. No way to avoid the direct assault of those heavy horns. She was grateful, feeling the weight of them, that they had hit her chest and not her skull. She felt herself slip as she pulled her limb forward and fumble into the ground with a heavy thud. Pain shot through her chest as she lost her breath and the fog around her exploded into existence as a result. She did not yield it to attempt to steal the women’s breath away. No, she knew she needed more time to mend her mind before she could adequately fight.  
 
She lay on her side and made no efforts to move. It was simple show of submission. She had bested her with those heavy ass horns. So she would make no attempt to continue the battle. Her tail thumped approvingly against the ground as she allowed a painful smile to creep over her jaws. “Those horns are quite spectacular.” She said, her heavy voice lacked her typical riddled essence, as she felt no need to dress up her thoughts.
 
Every breath that pulled into her chest she could feel the ache of possibly cracked ribs. She knew she would be sore and painful for quite some time. Again, it wasn’t anything she hadn’t been through before. Abuse of any kind, wanted or not, was always a master she would know.



"Newt Speaks,"

Table @Centience

@Octavia
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