[M]  The Blood-soaked Family; Reunited [P]

Ryslen

Shadowbeast of Nidria

8 y/o xlarge Male
Alcatraz, Male Raven
© Shadow



He smelled his sister; specifically, his sister's blood. His yellowed eyes were vivid, glowing in the darkness that was the shadows surrounding him. The red maw, usually so aloof and smug, now a snarl of raging sharp points and harsh edges. His power was neither muted nor damped; it screamed from every fiber of his gigantic being. The powerhouse of a male, usually a bright red, was cloaked in shadow and darkness, a cloud reeking in strength and chaotic energy. 

Who had dared touched his baby sister?

A snarl ripped from him, abrasive and vibrating into his very bones. His claws ripped through the bark of one of the towering trees to his right, the bark splintering and shredding instantly. The deep cut, while still a shallow wound to the behemoth of a tree, would have left a normal tree almost in half. 
The dark male flexed his paw reflexively, the nails clicking together in a click click click. A deep growl rumbled in his stomach, though this time he did not let it escape through his maw. His nose tilted to the air, a deep inhale, traces of blood against the foliage and he was crashing through the underbrush in the direction of the freshest scent. 

His pupils were barely slits, his unconstrained rage an absolute blight on the already dark overhang that was the Giant's Forest. So covered in it's gargantuan trees, light could barely penetrate the canopy of ancient leaves and brush above. The dark male made no effort to saunter as he normally would, his pace brisk and hardly silent. Let them know of his approach, let them quiver at his rage and despair in their imminent demise. 

Whomever or whatever, be it mortal or god, would soon be privy to the terror that was known as Ryslen Morduch. 

"Ryslen speaking," | "Alcatraz speaking"


Table and art by Centience.

@Sonja
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Sonja

of

7 y/o medium Female
Bezalel, Male Crow
© Centience

She'd taken the time get out of the den and stretch her legs, drawing from the confines of the darkness from the home that Dovain had given to her. The woman sighed as she exited, shadows curling around the bottoms of her limbs, blending in with the ink upon her paws and coiling over her red stained fronts. Her wing was bandaged tightly to her side, bound with the Mundane womans straps of leather to keep it set and in place while it healed, her other tucked against her side comfortably where it belonged, eyes following Bezalel as he led the exit from their temporary home, Sonja watched as he dipped and wove between the trees, a small smile reaching over her features as she trailed behind him. 

Making their way north from red gate and back up toward the giants forest. It was the first time since the incident that she actually had some energy, already sick of resting. She'd be damned if she was going to miss her chance to get out. 

The trees began to change as they made their way from the autumn bound forest, keeping a steady pace she kept up with Bezalel the best she could. Who would occasionally zip back around do a circle around her and then head back into the waiting forest. She'd heard, and smelled him before he'd come into view, Bezalel loudly announcing his arrival with a flurry of caws and shrieks as the crow made a bee-line back in Sonja's direction, back to where she'd paused scanning the terrain for the large hulking frame of her brother. Ears fixed atop her crown. He was loud, making his presence easy to detect as the brute came barreling through the forest; rage — how it amplified the red war paint upon his face. 

She found herself taking a single step back at his approach, ears twisting and flickering backwards. She was too familiar with her brothers temper, but he didn't intimidate her; not in the slightest. Her gaze found his golden orbs meeting them in a locking stare of acknowledgement. "You're ready to go to war for me brother" it was an observation. "You don't even know what happened, who to blame" the statement came as Bezalel perched himself upon her back. 


"speaking,"


Table by Centience. Art by xxslow-burnxx @ DA
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Ryslen

Shadowbeast of Nidria

8 y/o xlarge Male
Alcatraz, Male Raven
© Shadow



On some level, the obnoxious shrieks of his sister's familiar sent a wave of relief through him. If the bird was alive, so was she. It was just the barest of relief he felt, however, and was quick to pass. At no point had the sociopath of a male even let himself contemplate that his sister could be dead. It simply wasn't something that could happen. In fact, it was only that small pause that kept the neon crow from having shadows shot at him. 

Nothing was safe from him, not even her blasted bird. Ryslen had left the care of his baby sister to others for far, far too long. 

He came through the towering trees, red monarch approaching ebony, the thickly corded muscles of his legs bringing him closer to her. She shied away from him as he came closer; not of fear, but almost reproach. While he had never directed his anger at his sister, she had been in the, splash zone, so to speak more often than not. Orange and yellow eyes appraised the creature in from of him, no Cheshire's grin or flirty greeting as would be his norm. Despite her obvious request for space in stepping back, Ryslen barreled through, invading her personal space and inspecting every part of her.
The shadows that clung on and around him sang, rushing to Sonja as if lost puppies returning to their master. They licked at her legs, entwined in her tail, swirled about her underbelly in a whoosh. All the while Ryslen looked and sniffed over every inch of her, from the leather holding her wings, the scent of mundane that clung to her, as well as..something else. Something...not quite of this world. His maw lingering over her wings, something cracking the vicious snarl that seemed to have etched itself to his face. Gone just as quickly, with a flick of his tail and a flash of his eyes, more shadows crawled from beneath him and into her makeshift splint. They swirled around, barely a breath on fur, a whisper on her skin. A silent question. Would she let him try and help?

His eyes snapped up to her face, his shadows still whirling around the two of them in a hypnotic dance. 

"You're ready to go to war for me brother." He quirked an eyebrow at her, the easiest way he could say "obviously" without snorting, but failed to crack a smile. "You don't even know what happened, who to blame." Once more the sharpness returned to his eyes as he hyper-fixated on his sister. The forest, the bird on her back, his own familiar, none of it mattered. 

"Where was Zendelrin?" Ryslen's tone was clipped as his lip curled, shadows becoming agitated at the name. If he was honest, he didn't care whose fault it was. At the moment, he could only blame himself for letting his sister be taken care of by anyone but himself.


"Ryslen speaking," | "Alcatraz speaking"


Table and art by Centience.

@Sonja
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Sonja

of

7 y/o medium Female
Bezalel, Male Crow
© Centience

Her brother came in a tsunami like wave of dominance and possession, his hulking frame bulldozing through her silent request for personal space. The immediate response was a pin of those crimson lined audits, they fell almost completely flat against her ebony crown in a motion of discomfort and distaste for the close proximity. His shadows came forward first, they moved in a fashion that was similar to Zendelrins, but while Zendelrin's were like little pets that lapped at his limbs, her brothers reminded her more of extensions of himself. His shadows were a part of him, and their touch was like Ryslen himself was entwining himself around her body. 

They curled around her limbs, despite how she would life a paw to try and draw her leg from them they pressed forward almost desperate for the contact. Wrapping around her underbelly and wove through the thick fur upon her tail. "Ryslen —" his name almost snapped from her ebony maw, short as it was it sought to display her discomfort with his actions, she felt...violated. Her hackles would come to bristle, lips beginning to curl around ivory daggers stark against her dark face. And if that wasn't enough, simultaneously her brothers frame came too, he inspected her, his eyes and his nose grazing every inch of her frame, which made her good wing tuck tighter against her side defensively. 

When his shadows grew attentive to her wing did she come to relax slightly, catching the silent question; she knew her brother too well to let it fall upon deaf ears. She sighed as his golden pools snapped up to her face. "Where was Zendelrin?" the short question was hard to miss, the agitation, the rage that lurked behind it. The womans eyes would fall slightly, shifting in a slight downward motion, "I don't know, he came days after the fact when the Mundane had already finished splinting my wing," she admitted, glancing back up to her brothers unwavering eyes. "I don't need him, I can handle myself, it'll heal" she reminded him, her face contorting into a look of determination, and stubborn resolve. 

She didn't need protecting. 

"speaking,"


Table by Centience. Art by xxslow-burnxx @ DA
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Ryslen

Shadowbeast of Nidria

8 y/o xlarge Male
Alcatraz, Male Raven
© Shadow



She balked at his shadow's -- and in extension, his -- touch, obvious annoyance etched into her countenance. His name snapping from her maw was like white noise; his inspection was not done. 
While they were siblings and the only family each other had left, neither of them had been very touchy in their seven years of life together. Ryslen, for his part, usually respected his sister's space, and she, for her part, never seemed to encroach on his...activities. Whether this was to his detriment or not, they both knew each other well enough to understand the others' boundaries. 


But this, this was not something he could ignore. For the life of him, Sonja was possibly the only being in this god forsaken world he gave a damn about besides himself. He'd come to terms with it long ago, on a very bloody day for them both, and he'd never turned back from it. He was a monster, but his sister knew that. And still, she stayed. 

As she finally relaxed, an understanding of what it was he was trying to do, the mighty beast let his shadows do their work. Carefully, very carefully, he let the whirling shadows gently touch at his sister's wing. Their touch was feather light, though with it being broken he imagined the pain would still be there. Through the splint, they gingerly wrapped themselves around the broken bits of her wing, coaxing the bones together in a way that, as long as one of them remained in control of the shadows, they would encourage the bones to grow back correctly. An extra shadow splint, if you would. They seeped into the skin, and with only a quick glance in her direction, he let them firm up,  pulling the bones together.
His anger ebbed a bit with the process, the concern for what would most likely be extremely painful for her showing upon his maw in a deepset frown. 
"As always, they are at your command." it was said quietly, s he finally stepped back from her. Allowing her air. An apology, of sorts. 
Sonja was the only one whose control over the shadows did not send him into a rage. His own would even answer to her, if she wished it. It had been his first clue to figuring out her importance. The shadows, whispers on broken bone but still holding firm, would hold as long as he willed it. Or if Sonja didn't.

The rest of his shadows, sensing the oncoming distress, and no longer bound by Ryslen's usual control, fretted over the ebony lady, whorling and swirling about attempting to be a sense of comfort. A snarl from Ryslen had them scampering back to the ground beneath her, pools of darkness and purple.

It was only when his sister, a proud and stubborn creature, downcast her scarlet eyes that his own regained their sharpness. 
"I don't know, he came days after the fact when the Mundane had already finished splinting my wing," she dared look back at him. "I don't need him, I can handle myself, it'll heal."

He allowed the snort to leave his dark maw that time, his earlier anger not diminished but certainly calmed. Slightly. Her resolve was admirable. But misplaced. He'd think on the fact that a Mundane of all creatures had splinted his sister instead of trying to kill her. He'd smelled as much when he'd inspected her, the conclusion puzzling but adequate.  A question for later. Perhaps not even from Sonja.

"It isn't about whether or not you'll heal, Sonja." His golden eyes burrowed into her. Willing her to understand. Her towered a foot over her, and in that moment, he used it to be every bit of the older brother their parents had wanted him to be. "Or are you going to ask me not to kill him, again?" The smile at his maw, meant to be playful, looked only sinister.
It was a genuine question. When his sister had told him of her husband's...misdeeds...he'd listened when she'd told him to leave it alone. When she'd told him that her husband had left her again for almost a year, he hadn't hunted him down and demanded why. Ryslen had put his sister's life into the male's paws, and here she was, broken. He had allowed another to possess what was his, and her she was, not as he had left her.

"Zendelrin aside, which god am I rendering asunder, baby sister? Whose still beating heart am I gutting from their breast so I can stuff it down their maw? What mountain will answer this unrelenting fury that has overcome me?" He rolled his shoulders, power rolling with it, before leaning back in, closer to her maw:

"I will rip the very stars from the sky." The monstrous red beast was deadly seriously. For her, and only her. 



"Ryslen speaking," | "Alcatraz speaking"


Table and art by Centience.

@Sonja
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Sonja

of

7 y/o medium Female
Bezalel, Male Crow
© Centience

Her relaxation was a sign of acceptance for her brother to aid her, but she knew it would not be a painless experience. He could not numb the pain like Dovain had done, they were not herbalists. But he also knew that Sonja was strong enough to handle it, and even if she weren't — he'd do it anyway and she'd still let him. Dovain's makeshift splint might not be enough to ensure her wing healed properly to enable her to fly again. But this...this was a promise of returning to the skies. Ryslens shadows enveloped the limb, even the softest caress causing her wing to throb the nerves screaming at contact. She forced herself to take a breath, though anticipation was beginning to find its hold over her, causing her heart rate to rise as adrenaline began to flood her veins her muscles growing tight against what was soon to come. She met her brothers rich golden hues before pain flooded through the limb and deep into her shoulder and back, a sharp gasping cry sounded from the dame, jaws clenched tightly with a growl and her exhale came out through trembling lips. Crimson eyes would fall to the earth below her feet as she tried to catch her breath. 

"As always, they are at your command." A single ear would twitch at her brothers quiet words...his shadows. She huffed, tongue rolling from her maw as she sought to catch her breath, muscles tight and shaking, the shadows lingered around her throbbing wing irritation began to bubble within her. Audits drawing back the woman would curl her dark lips, peeling them back in a single warning; and they would remove themselves from her limb, daunting over her in other fashions. They swirled and circled her, until Ryslen came to chastise them. Then they fell to the earth below her. The woman huffed, sighing slowly slumping down upon her haunches. 

"It isn't about whether or not you'll heal, Sonja." Her crimson pools flickered back to his face, unafraid to meet his gaze — while her brother was a thing of nightmares to most he came upon, she was not afraid of him. Not one bit. She met his eyes and held them stubbornly as he snorted at her and carried on musings about the point. "Or are you going to ask me not to kill him, again?" ...there it was. Her ears fell back slightly, and she sighed. How long could she continue to defend Zendelrin for his actions? Or the lack there of? Even though she knew her brother was joking...well sort of. She also knew the truth behind his words. "Maybe i'll let you have at him this time," she scoffed, the distaste in her mouth for her...mate had only festered and worsened. 

"Zendelrin aside, which god am I rendering asunder, baby sister? Whose still beating heart am I gutting from their breast so I can stuff it down their maw? What mountain will answer this unrelenting fury that has overcome me?" a smirk found her maw as her brother drew closer, the heat of his breath felt upon her muzzle as he leaned in. "I will rip the very stars from the sky." I know you will. "It was not the gods intention to cause me harm, though I know intent has little to do with it." she mused. Eyes of blood finding his in their close proximity "But you will not — " she didn't doubt his ability to kill a god if he so desired. "Leave me to rot here alone; brother" the implication that he could potentially die trying to slay her villain drew heavily from her voice. 


"speaking,"


Table by Centience. Art by xxslow-burnxx @ DA
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Ryslen

Shadowbeast of Nidria

8 y/o xlarge Male
Alcatraz, Male Raven
© Shadow



He pretended not to notice the pain he caused her -- in the end, it was a necessary one. Still, it took an effort for him not to flinch as his shadows set her bones and she let out a cry, averting her eyes from his own; he was glad, he didn't want her to see the discomfort it caused him. It wasn't weakness, and for once the thought didn't cross his deranged mind. If she knew the effect she had on him, she'd never made it known.

She huffed, dispersing the unneeded shadows almost immediately. Ryslen frowned at that, but refrained from comment. His sister had never liked his shadows, despite the fact that they yearned to show her the physical affection he never had given her, except for in very rare moments. 

"Maybe I'll let you have at him this time," Sonja's obvious displeasure for her mate lightened the giant red male's mood considerably, even if it was at the expense of her misery. (What? He wasn't a good guy. He wasn't going to pretend to be.) Especially at the idea that she wouldn't stop him if he did try and...take care...of Zendelrin.
Ryslen nodded to himself, a mental checklist of things he needed to take care of after this beginning to form. It was what their parents would have wanted. (What would he know about their parents? He'd murdered them in cold blood.)

Something glistened in his amber eyes as she smirked as his proclamation. Something tightened and swelled in his dark chest, an emotion he wasn't sure he wanted to understand. But then he spoke and the breath left him.
"It was not the gods intention to cause me harm, though I know intent has little to do with it." Her eyes met his again and he held them. "But you will not leave me to rot here alone; brother."

Ryslen held the stare of his sister for a long while before he answered her. While his own form did not betray the swarming emotions as they wracked his brain, his shadows did. They lashed out, dark tentacles whipping nearby trees sending chips of bark and debris in every which of direction. The dark forest seemed suddenly darker, colder, less friendly. Dark pools surrounded the two, sucking in whatever was near. The crying sound of an unlucky squirrel as it sunk to the shadowy depths below echoed in the distance, bird squawking in distress as they flew from what seemed to be unbridled rage as it pooled off the red monster. 
It never touched a hair on Sonja's head. 

It was rage, yes. Passion, most certainly. It radiated off him in waves, each one a new facet of the seemingly endless depths of anger that seethed beneath his skin. Each one of new level of hell that was Ryslen's unrelenting, fathomless emotion. But reflected in his golden eyes was only sorrow. 

He was mad, yes. How dare she imply a mere god could best him? Him?
He would rip them from their immortal bonds and build a new den from their bones. Line it's walls with their flesh.
He was angry, yes. How dare a god, knowingly or not, harm his dear sister?
Their pain would be unimaginable; death would be a cold comfort when he was finished.
He was furious, yes. How could he, Ryslen, entrust such an unworthy male to take care of Sonja?
For how many years had he seen her suffer, only to do nothing?
He was....

Something caught in his throat. His dark paws dug into the dirt as his body gave the smallest shake. 

Everything stopped. The shadows disappeared. His power dispersed. The forest was quiet.

Ryslen took his great head, so close to Sonja, and leaned it gently against her dark shoulder.

"You know I would never leave you, Sonja." he said it softly. 

The great beast had been defeated. The gods would live another day.

"Ryslen speaking," | "Alcatraz speaking"


Table and art by Centience.

@Sonja
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Sonja

of

7 y/o medium Female
Bezalel, Male Crow
© Centience

Those words lingered on the air with a substantial amount of weight she could not explain as the siblings eyes locked with one another, the stood parallel as if trying to search for understanding of the turmoil that churned within themselves through one another. Sonja remained relatively tense as her emotions rolled, unmoving as her brothers shadows lashed out upon the world around them. Maybe a single flick of an ear in the direction of the chipping trees. But she did not break her eyes from his as he expressed his tantrum of emotion he would not otherwise say. She huffed lightly, feathers ruffling and rising against her wings but she did not move or lash out in the ways that he. Even though her mind and heart were at war with one another at the mere idea of Ryslen succumbing to a god over some stupid injury that was healed now. 

So she waited, until he was done throwing his fit. 

Until his shadows fell quiet and the forest stood still and his rage no longer disrupted the earth. He moved in closer to her, and the woman allowed her feathers to calm, falling flat once more as her brother pressed his head against her shoulder. "You know I would never leave you, Sonja." she sighed; a breath of relief as she leaned back into him allowing her weight to fall against him; knowing he would not let her fall she sighed gently letting her dark lids fall shut as she sought to bury her nose into her brothers red fur. Embracing him in physical contact and affection for the first time since they were young children. "Good," she finally whispered. "You'd better not" she mused, with a soft brush of laughter falling upon her words. 


"speaking,"


Table by Centience. Art by xxslow-burnxx @ DA
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