Scales, Feathers, and Fur (Shad/BoSno/Ron)

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The player scrapbooks forum is literally a place for writers to warm-up, brainstorm, keep little scraps of notes, or just post things to encourage themselves and each other. Each player can feel free to create their own thread - one per account - and use them accordingly.

Scales, Feathers, and Fur (Shad/BoSno/Ron)

Postby Boopley Snoof on December 1st, 2015, 2:40 am

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Hello, and welcome to my cumulative scrapbook for all of my Chars. Most of the time it won't matter one lick what character posts what, but if it does you will be able to tell by the boxcode. So, I'll keep it short -- enjoy my menagerie!
Last edited by Boopley Snoof on December 5th, 2015, 2:49 am, edited 1 time in total.
"Let the Wolf Rise Within You" -- T. Roosevelt

My Primary Account is Shadyn.
User avatar
Boopley Snoof
Looks can be deceiving...
 
Posts: 26
Words: 27217
Joined roleplay: October 31st, 2015, 12:57 am
Race: Kelvic
Character sheet
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Plotnotes

The Blood on the Wall

Postby Boopley Snoof on December 1st, 2015, 2:56 am

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This is the way that Bo Sno would tell his history...if ever he does IC. Aside from his treatment of Durral and Tilly, however, none of it is accurate.

Date: 13th of Summer, 515 AV


One sniff each told him that his sisters were dead…but that was merely one of the vagaries of life. When one worshipped chaos, one simply did not act surprised when a sudden change occurred. He sat down on his haunches and watched the moon slowly set, then wandered back towards the plantation house, located on the outskirts of Kenash. Blood dripped from some of the windows, indicating that some of the slain house guards lay just behind the drapes. Ascending the steps, he wound his way through the open door and up the staircase to the owner’s apartment, then brooded the two bodies that occupied the darkness. He let his mind wheel back to the previous day.

________________________________________________________________

Tilly called to “that obnoxious fool” – also known as Mellue, her fiancée – from where she was languishing in her bed.

“Do be a kind heart and take little Boopley out for his walk. I simply do not feel up to the exertion today…it is so dreadfully muggy out there, you know. Does terrible things to my hair.”

“Why, with pleasure, my dear! I’ll take his leash from right over….here, and be on my way. I hope you are feeling better when I return! With that, adieu, my sweet!”

As the obnoxious fool bent over him to affix his leash, Boopley Snoof did his best not to vomit. Despite his affection for Rhysol, Bo Sno did understand love. After all, that is what he felt for the darkest of gods. This, however, was not love. This was the syrupy nonsense of twenty-somethings that were more indulged than they knew what to do with. It reminded him of the dialogue from some of Tilly’s bedtime stories as a girl…disgusting trash.

Still, he was able to get away from one annoying person, at least for a while. The obnoxious man kept up a quick pace down the main drive until they reached the guard house and stream. Kala and Semala were sleeping outside, as usual. Very rarely did they have the energy to do anything except sleep during their downtime…no thanks to Durral, the master of the estate, and Kithron, his Chief Manager. The Guard house was not particularly busy today. It was the day off for most of the guards, most of them heading into town to get drunk, and the ones that were left had long since grown used to the sleepy countryside. Bo sincerely doubted that any of them had seen much more than the occasional tavern-fight in the last decade, let alone since he had been at the plantation.

The obnoxious man then did something odd. He pulled out a set of sticks from his jacket…components of a fishing rod, Bo presumed, assembled them, then bent over and began messing with Bo’s collar.

“I’ll just take this right off, and you can go play with the guard doggies over there while I fish. How does that sound, puppy?”

As soon as the collar was loose, Bo’s answer was to shift into human form for the first time in his memory. The obnoxious man was startled, to say the least…but then again, so was Bo. He found himself to be a large, even huge man. He stood over a foot taller than Mellue, and likely weighed twice as much. His hair reached down just past his waist, and was pure white and silky, like his fur. All of this sank in quite quickly, however, and soon he gave a wicked grin and grabbed the obnoxious fool’s head with one hand, lifting him off the ground.

“RHYSOL BE PRAISED!!!” He shouted.

And with that, the other hand shot out and twisted the man’s shoulders in the opposite direction until his neck snapped.

At his shout, both of his sisters had awakened, their eyes shining with animal eagerness. He sprinted across the grass and ripped off their tethers, then charged the door to the guard house.

It was only latched, which meant that his mass cleanly ripped the door off its hinges and sent it skittering across the room. The guards had been sleeping, and thus lept to their feet on undsteady legs. He drove one massive fist into the face of the nearest one, crumpling all of the facial bones inward, then smashed his other fist into the man’s temple. As that guard went limp, so did another one…him falling victim to the fangs of Bo’s sisters. The third guard drew a sword, but he was not quite fast enough. Bo lunged forward, latching his hand onto the man’s sword-arm and then using his torso to twist until the both the elbow and shoulder joints had been blown. As the man fell, Bo placed a hand on his throat, squeezing off the screams of pain…and the man’s very breathe.

At this point, the ruckus had awakened the Head Guard, who had hastily donned his armor and hefted up his Widowmaker axe. Flinging open the door, he instantly identified Bo as the thread and began to charge. Whipping up his head, Bo cast about for some defense, spotted the mess table, and flung the solid oaken piece with all of his might at his assailant. The man attempted to duck, but to no avail…no amount of armor could protect him from such a large impact. It smashed him against the wall, stunning him long enough for Bo to snatch the Windowmaker from his weak grasp and use the blades to stab him several times. He was about to discard the axe, but then settled it into his palm and decided to keep it…after all, there were many more people who needed to die today.

He emerged from the guard house naked and bloody with the massive axe dangling from his hand. Though he had never fought before, instincts had begun to take over and instruct him in the art of killing...an art he had longed for but never been able to actually practice. A passing servant noticed him and began to run for help. His long, powerful legs allowed him to quickly outpace the poor man, who was summarily beheaded by a sweep of the axe. Not breaking his pace, he rushed down the path to the place he knew as the slave quarters. None of those houses were of interest to him, only those belonging to the manager. The door was standing open, with a lower ranking manager keeping watch over the slaves. His sisters took care of removing that man’s throat, while he charged inside, flinging the axe at a group of supervisors, wounding two and killing the third. Throwing himself bodily into the fray, he grabbed the Chief Manager by the back of his head and proceeded to pound his face on the mantle of the fireplace until he was certain the man was dead, then grabbed one of the wounded men trying to escape in a bear-hug, squeezing until he felt the man’s ribs crackled under his arms. Semala dispatched the third unfortunate slave supervisor.

Their next stop was the owner’s mansion.

Unfortunately, this was already barricaded…someone else must have spotted them on their rampage and warned the owner. Still…a few guards had not made it inside. Boopley and his sisters hamstringed the ones that they could catch, and kept themselves amused until nightfal with them. The first guard Boopley decided to use to see how much he could remove from a human while still keeping them alive. To do this, he first removed fingers and toes, then hands and feet. Lower legs and lower arms soon followed. Each time he took care to wrap whatever areas he was not removing to keep his study subject from bleeding out, dying, and ruining his experiment. Next came the upper legs and upper arms, leaving the man with just a head a torso. At this point, the man lost consciousness, depriving Bo of the pleasure of hearing him wail, but Bo found that he was able to remove the entire lower half of the man’s torso stopping just below the chest cavity and still have a detectable pulse.

On the next guard he decided to try fear tactics. Though doing less damage, he found that things humans tend to view as terrible have more effect than just lopping things off…though the lopping was quite fun. In this case, he started by letting his sisters knaw on the man’s appendages. After that torture was exhausted, he used his axe to make an incision along the man’s gut, then used his bare hands to gently remove his intestines, applying just enough pressure to cause excruciating pain in the process but not to actually snap the organs. Next he used the tip of the handle-blade to skewer and remove the man’s eyes, then his nose, then his ears, and lastly his tongue. After this, he watched him for several hours, tugging on his internal organs now and then, or letting his sisters knaw at non-vital parts. He was surprised that as the sun came up the man was still quite alive, though certainly not well. He took this as a lesson: less severe but more terrifying tortures are much more effective than horrific brutal ones.

As the darkness fell, he instructed his sisters to flank the house, just in case someone tried to escape. In the meantime, and wickedly wonderful idea flashed into his mind, one for which he thanked Rhysol’s evil genius. He stood up from the hillock behind which they had hidden and hurled his axe at the house with all his might. It spun through the air and embedded itself in one of the columns on the second story porch...he had never used a weapon before, and thus had terrible aim...but aim was not what he need right now. He then dropped back down behind the hillock as arrows came flying towards him, shifted to his kelvic form, and ran yipping towards the door. As he expected someone heard him and hurried to open the front door as he ran inside, looking for all the world like a frightened tiny dog. And while he was indeed a tiny dog, he was not the least bit frightened. No sooner had the door shut, then he shifted back into human form, picking up the nearest guard bodily and hurling him at his companions. He then hurled himself on top of them, ripping off their helmets and using his fists and one of the steel helmets to pound their heads and ribcages until they were motionless. A couple of archers had heard the commotion and hurried to the top of the stairs, but as soon as he saw them he flipped up one of the guards’ bodies to use as a meat shield, and then ran up the stairs, taking four or five with each step. The archers, wisely, retreated as they called for backup, but not fast enough. Turning the slain guard into a human projectile, he dashed forward, crouching incredibly low as he ran, letting the arrows flay above his head, then launched himself upward, each arm catching one of the archers. He let his weight smash them into the tile floor, then landed a solid kick into the sol plexus of one of them. Standing, he jumped forward slightly and brought his knees down under his body, letting his full 300 pounds of muscled and bone come crashing down on the second man’s skull, popping it like an overripe melon.

More guards were coming running, so he quickly stood, kicked in the first man’s face, then dashed down one of the halls and out onto the front porch of the second story. The guards were right on his heels, but skidded to a halt in front of the column where the axe was embedded. When he returned swinging the widowmaker. He spun it around and around -- if he was not particularly skilled in his use, he was at least enthusiastic -- above his head as he rushed them, slicing through the helmets – and heads – of two of the nearest and slowest ones to fall back. Two of them hurled themselves at him, short swords drawn. The first he stabbed with the axe, its reach extending much farther than the sword -- though the fact that the guard was far from adept in his use of the sword potentially aided the matter -- then he shifted his grip and used the handle-blade to impale the second assailant. The last guard was felled from behind by his two sisters, who had apparently found some way into the house…most likely one of the lower broken windows. There were only two people left in the house whom he considered “The Self Condemned”…

Durral was sitting in his room trembling when Boopley burst open the door. Bo closed the distance between himself and the middle aged man in a single bound. Durral attempted to draw his sword, but Bo lopped off his entire sword arm, then grabbed him by his belt with one hand, and pressed him against the wall. He turned his axe sideways and jammed its blade tips into the wall, with Durral’s neck in between them, suspending him in mid-air. Bo then picked up the fallen sword, casually turned to the fireplace, and began heating the blade.

“Who are you?! Why are you doing this?! I will give you anything you want if you will just leave me alone! Everything, even!”

Boopley chuckles sinisterly as he pulled the glowing hot blade out of the fire. He pressed it against the man’s bleeding arm-stump, cauterizing it crudely. When he spoke, his voice was deep, smooth, with a lilt that would have made one think that he was descended from some ancient line of aristocracy.

“I will answer all in good time. What I want now, however, is vengeance. Complete vengeance. Rhysol the great has seen fit to answer my prayers…now I will not let him be disappointed.”

With that, he dropped the man’s pants, gave a meaningful look at his two sisters, and emasculated the man with a couple of swings of the sword. It was still hot enough to leave the wounds cauterized shut.

“That is the first step of my vengeance…vengeance for those two creatures sitting in the doorway…I’m certain you know what I am referring to…”

He yanked the axe free, grabbed Durral, spun, and tossed him into a chair, to which he then bound him with ties from the window hangings. His sisters had long suffered abuse by this man when in their human form…he would return that crime on this man’s head…and all the other sins that hung there.

“Time to seek the fulfillment of my betrayal…I’ll be right back…”

Boopley turned and dashed out of the room, turned the corner in the great hall, and shouldered through the next door into Tilly’s room. She was still on her bed, apparently unaware of the commotion…stupidly sheltered, as always. He strode over and tucked her under one arm, to which she protested loudly but with no effect. When he entered Durral’s room, he set her down beside the canopy bed, across from her father. He buried the axe into one of the nearby tables, then ripped off her clothing in one single motion. She gasped, but one stare from him froze any thought of motion or speech in her.

“You asked me who I am. Perhaps this will show you…” – he shifted back into the little fluffy Boopley Snoof they had known, then back into his human form – “I am Boopley. The little kelvic whom you never had the wisdom to check what his human form looked like. You never thought what would happen by letting me sit with Tilly under her tutors, and when she read her stories, because I was just a stupid slave, after all…but you were woefully wrong. I gained powerful, valuable knowledge, the foremost of which is a passion for Rhysol. All I had to do was maintain the deception that you yourself had started by collaring me. Had you not abused my sisters, and kept me locked into my kelvic form doing things far below what I was capable of doing, I might not have felt some hideously about you. But that was just your crime against me. Your ultimate sin was your lousy, wasteful evil. You could have made wonderfully evil people, which would have given you at least some level of character strength, but no…you had to synthesize and weaken your evil by mixing it with the most decrepit and lame ‘goodness,’ as well as an apathy of luxury. I would have respected you more if you had even been entirely good people, but you most certainly were not that. Oh, and Tilly…do not think yourself innocent of this. I have watched you…more closely than any other person in your life, I daresay…and I have found you to possess the same fault as your father. You are just a young woman, still only sixteen, so this fault has not matured into the anathema of Durral, but I know it will…but what am I saying? It WOULD…but unfortunately for you, it will not have that chance.”

This speech was followed by a moment of silence. Bo ran his eyes up and down her bare body, then slowly rolled his eyes over to his sisters, and then to Durral. When this silent exchange was completed, a smile of elation spread across his handsome face. At a glance, an onlooker would have thought that smile to be one of true joy, so beaming that others would have had to smile as well for the sheer pleasure of looking at him. But Tilly and Durral were not just glancing. They were staring, able to see the faintly twisted lines that conveyed underlying emotions that did more torture to their souls than any physical thing he could have imagined. He ended this by tossing Tilly onto the bed. After all, who said evil had to be joyless?

When he got off the bed, he walked over to Durral, then glanced at Tilly. She was still conscious…enough to hear her father’s death-cries. The other slaves had said Durral was heartless…Bo had decided to make that true. Picking up a stout letter opener from the desk beside him, he drove it into Durral’s rib cage just beside the heart. The blade was serrated, so he worked it back and forth, slowly working his way down and around the heart. Durral’s screams echoed throughout the empty plantation house, making his sisters grin as only satisfied wolves can do. Tilly did not move, but she did pinch her eyes shut and grimace slightly. Good. That meant he was torturing two people right now…

As soon as the ribs and sternum were out of the way, he tossed the letter opener aside and reached in with his right hand, carefully wrapping his fingers around Durral’s heart. It throbbed against his fingers. There mere act of touching the heart sent Durral’s body into violent spasms. Bo used his left hand to keep him as still as possible – cut bones were sharp, and Bo had no intention of slicing himself in the middle of his most glorious moment. Slowly, he tugged on the heart, having been careful not to cut any of the arteries or veins surrounding it…he had been quite studious in Tilly’s health class. When it was sufficiently within his bloody grasp, he gave a mighty heave. Durral and the chair to which he was bound left the floor for a couple of moments, swinging up into the air…then the aorta, upper vena cava, and lower vena cava snapped. Fountains of blood gushed everywhere as Durral let out a final inhuman wail as the chair hit the floor and splintered, crushing what was left of him beneath it. Bo turned to Tilly, grabbed her by one arm, and then rotated, snapping her like a whip against the marble wall. Her head made a sickeningly dull crumbling-splattering sound when it hit, leaving a large streak of blood as he limp body slid down onto the floor beside her father’s.

________________________________________________________________

Bo Sno's mind slowly shifted back to the present. He rose and took his axe...Mortaeon, he would call it...and smiled in pride of the honor he had done to Rhysol. What's more, when he strode past the mirror in Durral's room, he saw not a man corrupted by evil, but a man who bore it handsomely.

He worked his way down to one of the taylor's rooms in the house, and cast about in the piles of clothes until he came up with some that fit him. It was a pair of simple black slacks and a pure white shirt. He rolled up the sleeves on it and left it mostly unbuttoned...it was only needed to help him fit in with humans. To these clothes he added a huge black leather cloak and a simple back belt for his axe. The cloak was large enough to conceal the widowmaker's presence from the casual onlooker...

Heading to the slave quarters, he quietly unlatched all of the doors one by one, a silent but obvious indication of freedom. No one would recognize Bo...but perhaps that was a good thing. He wanted a new start in life, and also as little connection to this slaughter as possible. Strolling down the main path, he contemplated where he would go from here. Somewhere that needed Rhysol's influence to be more strongly felt...somewhere like...

Syliras.
Last edited by Boopley Snoof on December 5th, 2015, 11:59 pm, edited 1 time in total.
"Let the Wolf Rise Within You" -- T. Roosevelt

My Primary Account is Shadyn.
User avatar
Boopley Snoof
Looks can be deceiving...
 
Posts: 26
Words: 27217
Joined roleplay: October 31st, 2015, 12:57 am
Race: Kelvic
Character sheet
Scrapbook
Plotnotes

Scales, Feathers, and Fur (Shad/BoSno/Ron)

Postby Boopley Snoof on December 5th, 2015, 2:52 am

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Soo....I decided that I would find gifs that depict my characters...character. This one is for Shadyn:

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I don't think that you could possibly sum up his life attitude with anything more. Suuuuuurrrreeee, he can be "deep" sometimes, or objectively business minded...but generally speaking, this is who he is. No questions about it. :D



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"Let the Wolf Rise Within You" -- T. Roosevelt

My Primary Account is Shadyn.
User avatar
Boopley Snoof
Looks can be deceiving...
 
Posts: 26
Words: 27217
Joined roleplay: October 31st, 2015, 12:57 am
Race: Kelvic
Character sheet
Scrapbook
Plotnotes

Scales, Feathers, and Fur (Shad/BoSno/Ron)

Postby Boopley Snoof on December 5th, 2015, 2:56 am

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I don't think I really know Bo Sno yet. Have to thread more. But at this point, I get a feeling that he is sorta like this....except more fluffy. Just picture this face on his Kelvic form...XD....that thought just made my night...

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"Let the Wolf Rise Within You" -- T. Roosevelt

My Primary Account is Shadyn.
User avatar
Boopley Snoof
Looks can be deceiving...
 
Posts: 26
Words: 27217
Joined roleplay: October 31st, 2015, 12:57 am
Race: Kelvic
Character sheet
Scrapbook
Plotnotes


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