<![CDATA[Vivarium - Great Woodlands]]> https://vivariumrpg.com/ Sun, 27 Sep 2026 23:10:42 +0000 MyBB <![CDATA[࣪ ˖ momma sed]]> https://vivariumrpg.com/showthread.php?tid=13754 Wed, 23 Sep 2026 16:21:51 -0400 Evren]]> https://vivariumrpg.com/showthread.php?tid=13754
[Image: 119289080_fnfeAbG1jmYJYL3.png?1778097961]
After a long, sweltering walk back through the jungle, they were finally home. Back on the peak of their mountain, where he could stargaze under open and dancing skies, Evren felt like he could finally breathe. This was where they belonged, at least in his growing mind. The first night back, he'd spent outside their den, praying to Star Mother that they wouldn't have to go to anymore weddings for a long, long time.

Tonight, he sought . Her fading, familiar scent brought him to the northeastern most clearing, where they could see all of the world below and where the closest to the sky. The Prince sought his mother during the tail-end of sunset, and he'd found her with her chin to the sky, bathing in fading golden-purple light.

His momma was so pretty. Evren crawled to her side as if frightened he'd interrupt her peace and quiet. She hadn't gotten much of it these days, he'd noticed. She was always so busy, either tending to his sisters and brother, or tending to their home. It made his heart ache, then, because he couldn't quite remember the last time he and his Mama had a moment for themselves.

Muña? He murmured as he came to nestle himself against her side. There, tucked in the softness of her warmed fur, and with the rest of the world at their feet, he felt calm. Safe.
]]>
[Image: 119289080_fnfeAbG1jmYJYL3.png?1778097961]
After a long, sweltering walk back through the jungle, they were finally home. Back on the peak of their mountain, where he could stargaze under open and dancing skies, Evren felt like he could finally breathe. This was where they belonged, at least in his growing mind. The first night back, he'd spent outside their den, praying to Star Mother that they wouldn't have to go to anymore weddings for a long, long time.

Tonight, he sought . Her fading, familiar scent brought him to the northeastern most clearing, where they could see all of the world below and where the closest to the sky. The Prince sought his mother during the tail-end of sunset, and he'd found her with her chin to the sky, bathing in fading golden-purple light.

His momma was so pretty. Evren crawled to her side as if frightened he'd interrupt her peace and quiet. She hadn't gotten much of it these days, he'd noticed. She was always so busy, either tending to his sisters and brother, or tending to their home. It made his heart ache, then, because he couldn't quite remember the last time he and his Mama had a moment for themselves.

Muña? He murmured as he came to nestle himself against her side. There, tucked in the softness of her warmed fur, and with the rest of the world at their feet, he felt calm. Safe.
]]> <![CDATA[it needs to be fed]]> https://vivariumrpg.com/showthread.php?tid=13738 Mon, 21 Sep 2026 23:34:21 -0400 Mercy ]]> https://vivariumrpg.com/showthread.php?tid=13738 *open to any of her pups!
[Image: 88713967_FkKaU1RcMdSdHJ5.png?1772226735]
Mercy had hoped that her emotions would even out with the birth of the children, that she might finally feel familiar to herself again, but it did not seem to be the case. It was not only anger and grief seated beside each other inside her chest.

It was more.

Too much more.

Dappled in sunlight, the lot of them were tucked against her belly, squeaking and wriggling for motherly warmth, and she glowered down at them. Conflicted, her mismatched eyes remained narrowed but there was something… softer within their depths.

An affection she had not wanted to feel or believe to be real. A sort of love already built upon a shaky foundation, rooting itself within a heart battered and bruised, but not yet dead.

The squirming pups were made up of not only pieces of herself and their father, but of a family she’d long since wished to forget. She wondered if looked at them and saw what he too had lost, or if he saw something new entirely.

Mercy wasn't sure what she saw. She could not decide if she wished to smother them gently, or enough to end their keening and suckling. It’d be easy, so easy to just roll upon her side, to lay still until all was quiet, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it.

Even the one who reminded her most of Freya had made anger rear its monstrous head within the moment she joined the world. She’d struggled to clean her off, wishing to leave her dirtied and new, but could not act quite the monster she wished to be. When the next came, it had not been any easier.

It was not fair. None of this. She had not asked to be a mother. She had not asked to feel a sort of belonging, here, next to new life. With men she wished to rip apart with her own teeth more often than not.

Sighing, she nosed at the loudest one near her breast, pressing her snout against a rounded head, unsure if she was discouraging or encouraging the tyke.

Little djöfull, the new mother whispered, grimly and tenderly, a harsh tongue quick to lap at a fuzzy brow.
]]> *open to any of her pups!
[Image: 88713967_FkKaU1RcMdSdHJ5.png?1772226735]
Mercy had hoped that her emotions would even out with the birth of the children, that she might finally feel familiar to herself again, but it did not seem to be the case. It was not only anger and grief seated beside each other inside her chest.

It was more.

Too much more.

Dappled in sunlight, the lot of them were tucked against her belly, squeaking and wriggling for motherly warmth, and she glowered down at them. Conflicted, her mismatched eyes remained narrowed but there was something… softer within their depths.

An affection she had not wanted to feel or believe to be real. A sort of love already built upon a shaky foundation, rooting itself within a heart battered and bruised, but not yet dead.

The squirming pups were made up of not only pieces of herself and their father, but of a family she’d long since wished to forget. She wondered if looked at them and saw what he too had lost, or if he saw something new entirely.

Mercy wasn't sure what she saw. She could not decide if she wished to smother them gently, or enough to end their keening and suckling. It’d be easy, so easy to just roll upon her side, to lay still until all was quiet, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it.

Even the one who reminded her most of Freya had made anger rear its monstrous head within the moment she joined the world. She’d struggled to clean her off, wishing to leave her dirtied and new, but could not act quite the monster she wished to be. When the next came, it had not been any easier.

It was not fair. None of this. She had not asked to be a mother. She had not asked to feel a sort of belonging, here, next to new life. With men she wished to rip apart with her own teeth more often than not.

Sighing, she nosed at the loudest one near her breast, pressing her snout against a rounded head, unsure if she was discouraging or encouraging the tyke.

Little djöfull, the new mother whispered, grimly and tenderly, a harsh tongue quick to lap at a fuzzy brow.
]]> <![CDATA[[birth] forbidden fruit]]> https://vivariumrpg.com/showthread.php?tid=13732 Mon, 21 Sep 2026 00:02:18 -0400 Mercy ]]> https://vivariumrpg.com/showthread.php?tid=13732 Backdated to September 18, 2026.

Please let and post first, and one more thread from Mercy!

Welcome to the world demons , , , ,
, , ,

[Image: d60fpnv-a4eb39da-2b9f-4f3e-a305-d2cf7dbb...L3_HWK90pY]
[Image: 88713967_FkKaU1RcMdSdHJ5.png?1772226735]
Time had passed too fast. Like the molted leaves on the trees of the forest surrounding them, her body had waited for no one. It had changed faster than the season — leaving her no choice but to accept what was to come.

Full of life. A Goddess reborn not once, but twice, only to be blessed by the Gods! The very thought made her want to laugh, for she knew it was a lie. It was only darkness brewing inside of her like a witch's poison. She knew it. She could feel it. Feel them. These... children, lacking that of immortal blood. Children made from mistake and misguided emotion. Children cursed to live on this wretched plane with her.

Her and the rest of her blood that had been forgotten and left behind.

Rounder and rounder she grew, and the fear inside her had mounted into something nearly unbearable. Rooting itself weeks ago, it lived within her now, slithering through her veins, waiting for the chance to burst free and leave her bleeding and at its mercy.

Stalking on tired legs, she paced at the dug out den entrance, glaring at the moon sitting smugly up above. It stretched wide, illuminating the wildness living in her mismatched gaze. Once, she’d have thought it a wonderful sight. Now? She couldn't care less.

With clenched teeth, the valkyrie was halted in her tracks by a sharp pain that radiated throughout her entire body.

Was she dying?

She felt like she was dying.

It started low in her abdomen, clawing and taking from her, and up it climbed, toward her throat where a cry was stifled by snapping jaws. Stumbling forward, she was forced to lean a golden shoulder against piled dirt, jaws parting in a pant.

No, Mercy choked, the word nothing more than a whispered and pathetic snarl upon darkened lips. Stop, fuck, no—

It wasn’t fair. This wasn’t her choice — it wasn’t her life!

Shaking her head, she remained stubborn. Chin upward, eyes clenched shut through more pain. It came without hesitance, without any sort of grace for the woman it assaulted now, ricocheting through her in ways she had never thought possible. Even when teeth and claw had torn apart her throat in purgatory, even when her mother had left her behind—

How did women live through this? Why did women choose this?

Mercy clenched her teeth, ivory flashing in a grimace as she tried to stand upright, her entire body shaking and coiled like an arrow held against a bowstring, waiting impatiently to take a life. It felt nearly impossible, but she persisted, nostrils flaring and cheeks puffing, breathing through the pain — pretending this was not happening.

That it was not finally time to let loose a new darkness into the mortal world. Darkness that belonged as much to her family as it did her.

I—I need— she gasped, uncertain what it was exactly that she asked for. Who she asked for. Uncertain that either man would even come.

Ears were quick to flatten, jaw tightening with another painful huff of breath. Shame flooded through her, nearly as violent as the pain, leaving the valkyrie embarrassed to have even thought to call for anyone.

They couldn’t give her anything she wanted. They couldn’t fix this. Besides, she didn’t need anyone. She didn’t need anything.

Another wave of pain tore through her, and Mercy wished she was dying. Pawing at the ground, she kicked up dirt, head lowering, tail stiff behind her. A whine tried to escape, ruined by a breathless, grumbled groan.

Perhaps, though, they could give her something she hadn't known she needed. Something she hadn't known she wanted.

To not be alone.
]]> Backdated to September 18, 2026.

Please let and post first, and one more thread from Mercy!

Welcome to the world demons , , , ,
, , ,

[Image: d60fpnv-a4eb39da-2b9f-4f3e-a305-d2cf7dbb...L3_HWK90pY]
[Image: 88713967_FkKaU1RcMdSdHJ5.png?1772226735]
Time had passed too fast. Like the molted leaves on the trees of the forest surrounding them, her body had waited for no one. It had changed faster than the season — leaving her no choice but to accept what was to come.

Full of life. A Goddess reborn not once, but twice, only to be blessed by the Gods! The very thought made her want to laugh, for she knew it was a lie. It was only darkness brewing inside of her like a witch's poison. She knew it. She could feel it. Feel them. These... children, lacking that of immortal blood. Children made from mistake and misguided emotion. Children cursed to live on this wretched plane with her.

Her and the rest of her blood that had been forgotten and left behind.

Rounder and rounder she grew, and the fear inside her had mounted into something nearly unbearable. Rooting itself weeks ago, it lived within her now, slithering through her veins, waiting for the chance to burst free and leave her bleeding and at its mercy.

Stalking on tired legs, she paced at the dug out den entrance, glaring at the moon sitting smugly up above. It stretched wide, illuminating the wildness living in her mismatched gaze. Once, she’d have thought it a wonderful sight. Now? She couldn't care less.

With clenched teeth, the valkyrie was halted in her tracks by a sharp pain that radiated throughout her entire body.

Was she dying?

She felt like she was dying.

It started low in her abdomen, clawing and taking from her, and up it climbed, toward her throat where a cry was stifled by snapping jaws. Stumbling forward, she was forced to lean a golden shoulder against piled dirt, jaws parting in a pant.

No, Mercy choked, the word nothing more than a whispered and pathetic snarl upon darkened lips. Stop, fuck, no—

It wasn’t fair. This wasn’t her choice — it wasn’t her life!

Shaking her head, she remained stubborn. Chin upward, eyes clenched shut through more pain. It came without hesitance, without any sort of grace for the woman it assaulted now, ricocheting through her in ways she had never thought possible. Even when teeth and claw had torn apart her throat in purgatory, even when her mother had left her behind—

How did women live through this? Why did women choose this?

Mercy clenched her teeth, ivory flashing in a grimace as she tried to stand upright, her entire body shaking and coiled like an arrow held against a bowstring, waiting impatiently to take a life. It felt nearly impossible, but she persisted, nostrils flaring and cheeks puffing, breathing through the pain — pretending this was not happening.

That it was not finally time to let loose a new darkness into the mortal world. Darkness that belonged as much to her family as it did her.

I—I need— she gasped, uncertain what it was exactly that she asked for. Who she asked for. Uncertain that either man would even come.

Ears were quick to flatten, jaw tightening with another painful huff of breath. Shame flooded through her, nearly as violent as the pain, leaving the valkyrie embarrassed to have even thought to call for anyone.

They couldn’t give her anything she wanted. They couldn’t fix this. Besides, she didn’t need anyone. She didn’t need anything.

Another wave of pain tore through her, and Mercy wished she was dying. Pawing at the ground, she kicked up dirt, head lowering, tail stiff behind her. A whine tried to escape, ruined by a breathless, grumbled groan.

Perhaps, though, they could give her something she hadn't known she needed. Something she hadn't known she wanted.

To not be alone.
]]> <![CDATA[∸ iqqaumaniq]]> https://vivariumrpg.com/showthread.php?tid=13728 Sun, 20 Sep 2026 20:41:50 -0400 Grey Shrike]]> https://vivariumrpg.com/showthread.php?tid=13728 ‎‎
The singing hills had been quiet over the crawl of the summer. Grey Shrike had kept his days busy with hunts and scouts with his mate; they'd venture off from sunset to sunrise, and rendezvous in the blooming meadows for a night beneath the stars.

His heart was fuller than it'd been a year ago. The ghost of his grief no longer sat atop his shoulders. That scar his sister's death had left had healed with time. These days, he could recall her memory with fondness. He could think of her and smile.

Visits to her wetu were the few quiet moments he stole in the afternoons or early mornings. He'd lay near the entrance and listen to her voice on the breeze. Sometimes, he'd talk; he'd tell her about his husband, of their hunts, of the hills and how they missed her too. Most times, he'd close his eyes and rest, lulled by her sweet memories.

Today, he'd brought her a pheasant. The full breast he left out for the spirits, while the feathers he kept to scatter about the mouth of her wetu. He reclined outside the entrance, and with a bittersweet glance, he peered inside to see her pelts still lining the dirt walls.
]]> ‎‎
The singing hills had been quiet over the crawl of the summer. Grey Shrike had kept his days busy with hunts and scouts with his mate; they'd venture off from sunset to sunrise, and rendezvous in the blooming meadows for a night beneath the stars.

His heart was fuller than it'd been a year ago. The ghost of his grief no longer sat atop his shoulders. That scar his sister's death had left had healed with time. These days, he could recall her memory with fondness. He could think of her and smile.

Visits to her wetu were the few quiet moments he stole in the afternoons or early mornings. He'd lay near the entrance and listen to her voice on the breeze. Sometimes, he'd talk; he'd tell her about his husband, of their hunts, of the hills and how they missed her too. Most times, he'd close his eyes and rest, lulled by her sweet memories.

Today, he'd brought her a pheasant. The full breast he left out for the spirits, while the feathers he kept to scatter about the mouth of her wetu. He reclined outside the entrance, and with a bittersweet glance, he peered inside to see her pelts still lining the dirt walls.
]]> <![CDATA[not a lot, just forever.]]> https://vivariumrpg.com/showthread.php?tid=13727 Sun, 20 Sep 2026 17:30:38 -0400 Huldin]]> https://vivariumrpg.com/showthread.php?tid=13727
set a little awhile after this thread

It should've never happened.

Huldin should've never let it go so far, not when he knew better; understood the inherent risk of allowing the desires of flesh to coax from his throat what was best left unspoken. Thoughtless. He'd been thoughtless, careless—selfish. The moment in which his need could reduce his obstinacy to be more than merely a companion to her, he should've swallowed it. He should've been strong enough to stomach distance - to tear between them another reason for her to hate at him, to turn away from eyes he wanted to give every reason to keep looking at him.

He should've. He didn't. Now Mercy's gone and he has no other to blame. It leaves his stomach all knotted and soured.

In the early days following her departure, Huldin found it easy to keep pace with her trail but as it always did, nothing and no one resented him so much as his own body; forcing him to stop lest it threaten worse than sore joints. Soon, her trail thinned until all he could trace was a good guess and a gut instinct. It didn't stop him, slowed him down undoubtedly, but knowing when to quit had never been Huldin's forte.

As the days turned into weeks, he remained steady in his pursuit to find her. Huldin lost her once, he refused to again—even if it seemed as though Mercy had wanted (and succeeded to) shake him.

Huldin's arrival to woodlands crowded by mist and the faintest scent of mead is a ragged one; aching bones, muscles stretched taut beneath fur slick with sweat and dew, pink tongue lolling from scarred lips. It didn't stink of vacancy the way other territories had, unsettling him enough to move about with purposefully noisy steps so as not to surprise any transient residents or give them the impression he's worth a fight.

He's just needing a drink and a moment to breathe, then he'll continue on his search. That's what matters after all; getting back to Mercy.
]]>
set a little awhile after this thread

It should've never happened.

Huldin should've never let it go so far, not when he knew better; understood the inherent risk of allowing the desires of flesh to coax from his throat what was best left unspoken. Thoughtless. He'd been thoughtless, careless—selfish. The moment in which his need could reduce his obstinacy to be more than merely a companion to her, he should've swallowed it. He should've been strong enough to stomach distance - to tear between them another reason for her to hate at him, to turn away from eyes he wanted to give every reason to keep looking at him.

He should've. He didn't. Now Mercy's gone and he has no other to blame. It leaves his stomach all knotted and soured.

In the early days following her departure, Huldin found it easy to keep pace with her trail but as it always did, nothing and no one resented him so much as his own body; forcing him to stop lest it threaten worse than sore joints. Soon, her trail thinned until all he could trace was a good guess and a gut instinct. It didn't stop him, slowed him down undoubtedly, but knowing when to quit had never been Huldin's forte.

As the days turned into weeks, he remained steady in his pursuit to find her. Huldin lost her once, he refused to again—even if it seemed as though Mercy had wanted (and succeeded to) shake him.

Huldin's arrival to woodlands crowded by mist and the faintest scent of mead is a ragged one; aching bones, muscles stretched taut beneath fur slick with sweat and dew, pink tongue lolling from scarred lips. It didn't stink of vacancy the way other territories had, unsettling him enough to move about with purposefully noisy steps so as not to surprise any transient residents or give them the impression he's worth a fight.

He's just needing a drink and a moment to breathe, then he'll continue on his search. That's what matters after all; getting back to Mercy.
]]> <![CDATA[キツネとツル]]> https://vivariumrpg.com/showthread.php?tid=13725 Sun, 20 Sep 2026 10:53:46 -0400 Karina]]> https://vivariumrpg.com/showthread.php?tid=13725


for , backdated to aug 17th!


Sunlight’s gilded rays peek through the openings of its cloud consorts, drifting through the gaps of crimson leaves to dapple spotty red, brown and green dirt with its golden light. Delicate red palmate leaves fall to the ground unceremoniously. One might imagine the towering gates of shrines to jut themself up from the roots of the grandiose red trees; to stand tall upon the slowly moving currents of a river and frame the cracked rocks of stairs to ceremoniously lead weary travellers to the comforting grace of woven tatami mats. But here–there were no such thing, not that Karina had found. The woods were not marked by the presence of man, there were no shide to wrap around the fronts of these gates, no gravelly paths to speak of near civilisation; here, nature had dominated all.

And she supposed now, she had been a part of it. Lounging lazily atop a naturally crafted throne of maple leaves, redness nestled between snow-white fur to resemble the very clouds that danced atop the land. Oh, the trees, so gargantuan, roots sprawling over the damp soil that would lift their heavy lumber bodies like wood-carved gods to lift the very sky with the strong branches of their arms. Home had been quiet–always quiet, perched on the mountaintops and shrouded in fog, nestled between the split-woods of ginkgo and maple. The silence of these new lands were not quite the same; it’d not been the artificial and expected silence of strict families, wasting away within shoji-lined doors and thin wooden walls to sit upon ritualistic altars in the shrines of old, to waste their days praying to gods who would never hear them–who would never care to.

Silence of the woods was natural. Gentle, flowing with time like the leaves that drifted from the skies–like the gifts bestowed from the heavens above. Silence, here, could be disrupted without consequence. In her adolescence, she’d remembered how partial she’d been to curling herself in cold corners in the fear of leaving herself vulnerable to the snapping of beasts in the night–but here, she’d sprawled herself out atop the bed of red, she was not afraid. The body of a beast had much to offer–in some ways, she felt she had not suffered the loss of human elegance, but rather had it replaced with something much more naturally graceful. She noticed, now, she did not need to move legs beneath the scrutinising eyes of others in particular manners–her brain did not struggle with the task of keeping up fluidity in movements, in observing meticulously how the curl of fabric may offer another image of her figure to others; how her hair must sprawl in delicate white locks in only so very specific ways.

No, living as a beast–a wolf–had been easy. Slender legs moved on their own, her tail had twirled along with the swaying of plush, voluminous and silky fur. She needn’t think about the machinations of elegance when bending her hind legs to prop herself atop jagged rocks, or how she must curl her body, lay her tail atop the rest of herself like a kitsune in the winter. Though it had taken some time for her mind to grow accustomed, she’d quickly learned herself capable. Though not much as capable as her time as human; her limbs were still feeble and weak, and she did not sport herself a gargantuan nor a figure of prominent musculature. But her lack of physical prowess was nothing she’d held her hand in her paws and weeped of; no, greater strength would always lie in honey-tipped tongues. But there was no need for any show of strength - today was pleasant, here was pleasant, as pleasant as she remembered life could be.

And despite it all–head perked up to squint and look between the patterned and delicately shaped gaps of leaves, she had wished for company to endure the silence, if only for a brief moment.



common | 日本語 | russian
karina is a 3-3-3 character
[Image: 126642467_MJturrIWESis6G6.gif]
]]>


for , backdated to aug 17th!


Sunlight’s gilded rays peek through the openings of its cloud consorts, drifting through the gaps of crimson leaves to dapple spotty red, brown and green dirt with its golden light. Delicate red palmate leaves fall to the ground unceremoniously. One might imagine the towering gates of shrines to jut themself up from the roots of the grandiose red trees; to stand tall upon the slowly moving currents of a river and frame the cracked rocks of stairs to ceremoniously lead weary travellers to the comforting grace of woven tatami mats. But here–there were no such thing, not that Karina had found. The woods were not marked by the presence of man, there were no shide to wrap around the fronts of these gates, no gravelly paths to speak of near civilisation; here, nature had dominated all.

And she supposed now, she had been a part of it. Lounging lazily atop a naturally crafted throne of maple leaves, redness nestled between snow-white fur to resemble the very clouds that danced atop the land. Oh, the trees, so gargantuan, roots sprawling over the damp soil that would lift their heavy lumber bodies like wood-carved gods to lift the very sky with the strong branches of their arms. Home had been quiet–always quiet, perched on the mountaintops and shrouded in fog, nestled between the split-woods of ginkgo and maple. The silence of these new lands were not quite the same; it’d not been the artificial and expected silence of strict families, wasting away within shoji-lined doors and thin wooden walls to sit upon ritualistic altars in the shrines of old, to waste their days praying to gods who would never hear them–who would never care to.

Silence of the woods was natural. Gentle, flowing with time like the leaves that drifted from the skies–like the gifts bestowed from the heavens above. Silence, here, could be disrupted without consequence. In her adolescence, she’d remembered how partial she’d been to curling herself in cold corners in the fear of leaving herself vulnerable to the snapping of beasts in the night–but here, she’d sprawled herself out atop the bed of red, she was not afraid. The body of a beast had much to offer–in some ways, she felt she had not suffered the loss of human elegance, but rather had it replaced with something much more naturally graceful. She noticed, now, she did not need to move legs beneath the scrutinising eyes of others in particular manners–her brain did not struggle with the task of keeping up fluidity in movements, in observing meticulously how the curl of fabric may offer another image of her figure to others; how her hair must sprawl in delicate white locks in only so very specific ways.

No, living as a beast–a wolf–had been easy. Slender legs moved on their own, her tail had twirled along with the swaying of plush, voluminous and silky fur. She needn’t think about the machinations of elegance when bending her hind legs to prop herself atop jagged rocks, or how she must curl her body, lay her tail atop the rest of herself like a kitsune in the winter. Though it had taken some time for her mind to grow accustomed, she’d quickly learned herself capable. Though not much as capable as her time as human; her limbs were still feeble and weak, and she did not sport herself a gargantuan nor a figure of prominent musculature. But her lack of physical prowess was nothing she’d held her hand in her paws and weeped of; no, greater strength would always lie in honey-tipped tongues. But there was no need for any show of strength - today was pleasant, here was pleasant, as pleasant as she remembered life could be.

And despite it all–head perked up to squint and look between the patterned and delicately shaped gaps of leaves, she had wished for company to endure the silence, if only for a brief moment.



common | 日本語 | russian
karina is a 3-3-3 character
[Image: 126642467_MJturrIWESis6G6.gif]
]]> <![CDATA[light it up]]> https://vivariumrpg.com/showthread.php?tid=13706 Fri, 18 Sep 2026 22:14:03 -0400 Kehlani]]> https://vivariumrpg.com/showthread.php?tid=13706


Khelani, Singer-Of-Flame, couldn't remember what happened. Everything felt like a blur, like a hangover she couldn't shake.

She knew the world had sought to end, or at the very least, was on the cusp of it. Men overpowering men, sucking everything good and earthly dry. But there were things, small, futile things that wormed their way through the cracks.

Music that echoed in dimly lit hollows, where brick and mortar chipped past what should've been deemed safe. When bodies and heat mingled until one couldn't breathe, but the music—the music, it breathed its air into their lungs. It crashed over their skin like thunder and lightning, like the gentle pull of the tide, the bursting of one's heart with joy. There, in the music, they were free. Forgotten by the lives that threatened to bring them to destruction.

She had never felt more free when the darkness came, when the light guttered in time with the music. Then everything was gone. Lifeless.

She didn't know how long she'd been alone, how long the darkness seemed to eddy. It felt like months, years, eons, and yet she remained suspended. Lost.

Her pack had been the one thing at the forefront of her mind, wondering if they, too, were as lost as she. It they felt their selves—their soul—slipping away with every hopeless day of quiet.

Brightness was what woke her. This great, bright light that peeled back her eyelids and urged her to see. To feel. Warmth cascaded across her fur, whispering away every strained piece of darkness that stuck to her like burrs. Her heart threatened to seize as she took her surroundings in with a wolf's eye. Everything wrong and yet right. Familiar and yet not.

Around her, the world remained empty. Aloft. As if this were normal, as if she were meant to be alone in this place.

Red Talons? She called into the open air, utterly silent save for the rustle of smaller creatures across the red forest's floor.
]]>


Khelani, Singer-Of-Flame, couldn't remember what happened. Everything felt like a blur, like a hangover she couldn't shake.

She knew the world had sought to end, or at the very least, was on the cusp of it. Men overpowering men, sucking everything good and earthly dry. But there were things, small, futile things that wormed their way through the cracks.

Music that echoed in dimly lit hollows, where brick and mortar chipped past what should've been deemed safe. When bodies and heat mingled until one couldn't breathe, but the music—the music, it breathed its air into their lungs. It crashed over their skin like thunder and lightning, like the gentle pull of the tide, the bursting of one's heart with joy. There, in the music, they were free. Forgotten by the lives that threatened to bring them to destruction.

She had never felt more free when the darkness came, when the light guttered in time with the music. Then everything was gone. Lifeless.

She didn't know how long she'd been alone, how long the darkness seemed to eddy. It felt like months, years, eons, and yet she remained suspended. Lost.

Her pack had been the one thing at the forefront of her mind, wondering if they, too, were as lost as she. It they felt their selves—their soul—slipping away with every hopeless day of quiet.

Brightness was what woke her. This great, bright light that peeled back her eyelids and urged her to see. To feel. Warmth cascaded across her fur, whispering away every strained piece of darkness that stuck to her like burrs. Her heart threatened to seize as she took her surroundings in with a wolf's eye. Everything wrong and yet right. Familiar and yet not.

Around her, the world remained empty. Aloft. As if this were normal, as if she were meant to be alone in this place.

Red Talons? She called into the open air, utterly silent save for the rustle of smaller creatures across the red forest's floor.
]]> <![CDATA[head underwater]]> https://vivariumrpg.com/showthread.php?tid=13693 Thu, 17 Sep 2026 20:49:26 -0400 Mercy ]]> https://vivariumrpg.com/showthread.php?tid=13693 vague backdated; around week 6-7
[Image: 88713967_FkKaU1RcMdSdHJ5.png?1772226735]
Mercy felt like a child again.

Scared, angry, and unsure of what to do next.

Pregnancy had never been something desired by her — not like this. Never like this.

Her mother had spoken of it fondly. Gushed about the maternal glow she’d worn each time, of all the joy she’d felt carrying such strong and worthy children into the world. How it was an honor. A blessing!

Mercy now knew her parents were liars.

She’d never been so exhausted. It was unlike any she’d ever felt before, as her sides remained round and fat, and her head churned endlessly with fears of what was to come. Perhaps she had a glow to her, a maternal beauty, but she wouldn’t know it. It didn’t feel like it.

There were days where all she wanted to do was scream to the Gods above, who she figured sat upon their lazy asses and stuffed their faces with golden fruit and steaming meat, for what they’d done to her. How they’d left her — and even Sverke — behind.

Even more, she wanted to run again. To hide where no one would find her, where even the creatures growing inside her belly would cease to exist.

But she knew being alone would be worse. How was she to do… this? Any of it? Alone?

So, despite the irritation she felt, the weariness and the heartbreak, she’d settled deep within the Elk forest, learning to live alongside Sverke and Lucian. More often than not, teeth were bared and words sharp as knives were exchanged, but there were nights like tonight, where she allowed comfort to slip in.

Tonight, when the sun had just begun to set, spilling dim golden light between the trees, Mercy lay near Sverke. Around them, the forest rested, leaves only shuffling in the passing breeze, and before them a lazy stream cut through the woodland, its glittering surface catching pieces of the dying sun.

Mercy watched it with furrowed brows, her breaths even and slow. 

She said nothing.

Life moved low within her rounded belly, forcing her further onto her side, hindlimbs kicking out in a way that sent dirt scattering from where she lay. It was a restless, fluttering movement that still made her skin crawl every time she felt it, her teeth clenching so hard she found herself tasting blood from her lip. 

As it continued to writhe and flutter inside her, reminding her of her predicament, she could only breathe through it, ears flattened against her skull. Nothing about it felt like a blessing. Not a single part of it.

Still, the woman remained silent, and out of the corner of her eye, she watched the man of corrupted starlight.

She wondered what he thought of it all, but could not bring herself to ask. Was he frightened too? Would he stay when the time came? Would he abandon her like everyone else had?

Mercy didn’t wish to know. Not until it was too late.
]]> vague backdated; around week 6-7
[Image: 88713967_FkKaU1RcMdSdHJ5.png?1772226735]
Mercy felt like a child again.

Scared, angry, and unsure of what to do next.

Pregnancy had never been something desired by her — not like this. Never like this.

Her mother had spoken of it fondly. Gushed about the maternal glow she’d worn each time, of all the joy she’d felt carrying such strong and worthy children into the world. How it was an honor. A blessing!

Mercy now knew her parents were liars.

She’d never been so exhausted. It was unlike any she’d ever felt before, as her sides remained round and fat, and her head churned endlessly with fears of what was to come. Perhaps she had a glow to her, a maternal beauty, but she wouldn’t know it. It didn’t feel like it.

There were days where all she wanted to do was scream to the Gods above, who she figured sat upon their lazy asses and stuffed their faces with golden fruit and steaming meat, for what they’d done to her. How they’d left her — and even Sverke — behind.

Even more, she wanted to run again. To hide where no one would find her, where even the creatures growing inside her belly would cease to exist.

But she knew being alone would be worse. How was she to do… this? Any of it? Alone?

So, despite the irritation she felt, the weariness and the heartbreak, she’d settled deep within the Elk forest, learning to live alongside Sverke and Lucian. More often than not, teeth were bared and words sharp as knives were exchanged, but there were nights like tonight, where she allowed comfort to slip in.

Tonight, when the sun had just begun to set, spilling dim golden light between the trees, Mercy lay near Sverke. Around them, the forest rested, leaves only shuffling in the passing breeze, and before them a lazy stream cut through the woodland, its glittering surface catching pieces of the dying sun.

Mercy watched it with furrowed brows, her breaths even and slow. 

She said nothing.

Life moved low within her rounded belly, forcing her further onto her side, hindlimbs kicking out in a way that sent dirt scattering from where she lay. It was a restless, fluttering movement that still made her skin crawl every time she felt it, her teeth clenching so hard she found herself tasting blood from her lip. 

As it continued to writhe and flutter inside her, reminding her of her predicament, she could only breathe through it, ears flattened against her skull. Nothing about it felt like a blessing. Not a single part of it.

Still, the woman remained silent, and out of the corner of her eye, she watched the man of corrupted starlight.

She wondered what he thought of it all, but could not bring herself to ask. Was he frightened too? Would he stay when the time came? Would he abandon her like everyone else had?

Mercy didn’t wish to know. Not until it was too late.
]]> <![CDATA[Terrorize me, Come and take my soul.]]> https://vivariumrpg.com/showthread.php?tid=13656 Sat, 12 Sep 2026 15:36:50 -0400 Jaxxon ]]> https://vivariumrpg.com/showthread.php?tid=13656
Skill:



Jaxxon Douglas Kinsey
North. Saga said in the event of trouble she'd go North. So that's the direction he headed. He had told Nyra that he was leaving and said his goodbyes to the rest, assured them he would return, hopefully with his wife in tow, and everything would be right in the world again.

Right?

Nah, not likely, not after what he'd done. It would take eons, if not forever, for him to be trusted again. He wouldn't ever fall for Joxer's bullshit lies ever again and his children would probably never forgive him if they found out what he'd done. Jaxx prayed to god they never did.

There was an eerie silence that fell over Mythris as he approached the stone bridge. He'd always liked it here, peaceful in it's own way, how the water below trickled and the sound of clicking nails was ever soothing to the soul. Somehow today though, that trickle seemed to be an almost roar, those singing sparrows were gone and the hush of the wind was a near scream as it raced through the trees. It was almost as if he were being punished for his deeds by Mythris herself.

Jaxxon sighed heavily, his head hanging low as he tried to trace scents of Saga through the brush and branches, through the blustering breeze that scattered leaves and near flattened grasses. Jaxx stopped when he reached the middle of the bridge, his head raised up and the male stood tall. For a moment one could almost imagine he looked proud, but he was worn and he felt thin, he wasn't proud and he didn't feel anything but shame and despair.

The Agony was fresh in his veins and he couldn't help but continue flashes of what had happened with Joxer, images of his fight with Saga, them returning home and her scent doing nothing but fading with the storms that kept coming.

The male shook his head, trying to erase those pictures before his amber eyes, he failed and the man bent his head down to near touch the ground with his nose, peering into the rushing water below. The angry stream didn't do anything but pour forth like he felt his heart might, spill over like his emotions, Jaxxon closed his eyes and sighed again. He couldn't look at himself, the mere sight of him made himself sick.

The evening was dark and cloudy, the sky overcast and dreary, the colors had been blocked out and everything threatened a storm that would consume everything.
]]>
Skill:



Jaxxon Douglas Kinsey
North. Saga said in the event of trouble she'd go North. So that's the direction he headed. He had told Nyra that he was leaving and said his goodbyes to the rest, assured them he would return, hopefully with his wife in tow, and everything would be right in the world again.

Right?

Nah, not likely, not after what he'd done. It would take eons, if not forever, for him to be trusted again. He wouldn't ever fall for Joxer's bullshit lies ever again and his children would probably never forgive him if they found out what he'd done. Jaxx prayed to god they never did.

There was an eerie silence that fell over Mythris as he approached the stone bridge. He'd always liked it here, peaceful in it's own way, how the water below trickled and the sound of clicking nails was ever soothing to the soul. Somehow today though, that trickle seemed to be an almost roar, those singing sparrows were gone and the hush of the wind was a near scream as it raced through the trees. It was almost as if he were being punished for his deeds by Mythris herself.

Jaxxon sighed heavily, his head hanging low as he tried to trace scents of Saga through the brush and branches, through the blustering breeze that scattered leaves and near flattened grasses. Jaxx stopped when he reached the middle of the bridge, his head raised up and the male stood tall. For a moment one could almost imagine he looked proud, but he was worn and he felt thin, he wasn't proud and he didn't feel anything but shame and despair.

The Agony was fresh in his veins and he couldn't help but continue flashes of what had happened with Joxer, images of his fight with Saga, them returning home and her scent doing nothing but fading with the storms that kept coming.

The male shook his head, trying to erase those pictures before his amber eyes, he failed and the man bent his head down to near touch the ground with his nose, peering into the rushing water below. The angry stream didn't do anything but pour forth like he felt his heart might, spill over like his emotions, Jaxxon closed his eyes and sighed again. He couldn't look at himself, the mere sight of him made himself sick.

The evening was dark and cloudy, the sky overcast and dreary, the colors had been blocked out and everything threatened a storm that would consume everything.
]]> <![CDATA[Pink! Goes with anythinggggg]]> https://vivariumrpg.com/showthread.php?tid=13615 Tue, 08 Sep 2026 17:07:15 -0400 Vysenya ]]> https://vivariumrpg.com/showthread.php?tid=13615 The moon hung high over the island upon the speckled navy canvass of the sky, the darkness nearly complete as heavy but scattered chunks of cloud threatened to blot out the singular shred of proper light. Vysenya was restless; Vaedia had long since found some branch upon the island to sleep on, tired of following her companion and apparently discontent with perching upon a moving bed. If any of her siblings were awake, she had yet to see them either. It was... quiet, here. Without the walls of the keep to shuffle them along the same corridors, she found it was easier to slip off and on the island without detection, or even to not see the other Solarys' unless she sought them out.

Which she did, of course. Often! She brought meals to her family members, and offered to spar gladly -- all in the name of learning their new bodies and keeping themselves safe, she claimed.

It was no secret that Vys was happy about life here, though. The burning paranoia that someone had sent them here certainly lingered, but when prison felt like a paradise, it was hard to be sour. It felt more like she'd been freed from the constraints of royal life, but that wasn't wholly what she had wanted, either. She liked that elite life! She liked lounging about on soft cushions, eating ripe fruits and fine cheeses and delectable cakes with a goblet of wine, with servants around her to do her bidding. She liked having no more responsibility than those she gave herself: largely, taking her begrudged place at Valarr's side in her constant attempt to keep him safe. She liked being able to jaunt off on dragon-back whenever she pleased, to soar the skies and know she was one of the most dangerous things blessed to the world.

She thought often of Tembyria, and how nice it must be to never second-guess ones place in the world. In the family. To wonder if the day would ever come when dismissed her, that might grow tired of her games, that decided she and Vaella were too close, or even herself deciding Vys was too rough and rude to tolerate anymore. To fear, perhaps, how their dynamics might change now. Would Valarr call them to order, or was she finally free to just... be? Would he think her a threat now, just because she had the same bits as him dangling between her legs? She didn't want any stupid crown! She just wanted to feel... accepted.

Vys scuffed the sand with a paw as she slunk sullenly along the shore.

It was a nice place they were... hanging out at? Claiming? Vys wasn't sure. She didn't know what her brothers plans were, and she didn't know what she wanted.

She thought, then, of Idunn; of pretty blonde fur and golden eyes, of the scent of hunts and victory, of a dark-flecked back and growls pushing her to be as wild as she wanted. That was the life, she thought. That glorious creature was gods-knows where living its absolute best life, and some tiny little part of Vys thought she should've gone with. Should've clung to the freedom and saw what this world had to offer. It was never too late, she kept telling herself, and yet she kept turning back to the crimson woods and the cosmic isle beyond like a dog returning faithfully to the master who whipped it just because it didn't know any different life awaited.

And so the dog wandered, uncertain, frustrated, upon an open beach at night with the forest to her side and the endless sea to the other. ]]> The moon hung high over the island upon the speckled navy canvass of the sky, the darkness nearly complete as heavy but scattered chunks of cloud threatened to blot out the singular shred of proper light. Vysenya was restless; Vaedia had long since found some branch upon the island to sleep on, tired of following her companion and apparently discontent with perching upon a moving bed. If any of her siblings were awake, she had yet to see them either. It was... quiet, here. Without the walls of the keep to shuffle them along the same corridors, she found it was easier to slip off and on the island without detection, or even to not see the other Solarys' unless she sought them out.

Which she did, of course. Often! She brought meals to her family members, and offered to spar gladly -- all in the name of learning their new bodies and keeping themselves safe, she claimed.

It was no secret that Vys was happy about life here, though. The burning paranoia that someone had sent them here certainly lingered, but when prison felt like a paradise, it was hard to be sour. It felt more like she'd been freed from the constraints of royal life, but that wasn't wholly what she had wanted, either. She liked that elite life! She liked lounging about on soft cushions, eating ripe fruits and fine cheeses and delectable cakes with a goblet of wine, with servants around her to do her bidding. She liked having no more responsibility than those she gave herself: largely, taking her begrudged place at Valarr's side in her constant attempt to keep him safe. She liked being able to jaunt off on dragon-back whenever she pleased, to soar the skies and know she was one of the most dangerous things blessed to the world.

She thought often of Tembyria, and how nice it must be to never second-guess ones place in the world. In the family. To wonder if the day would ever come when dismissed her, that might grow tired of her games, that decided she and Vaella were too close, or even herself deciding Vys was too rough and rude to tolerate anymore. To fear, perhaps, how their dynamics might change now. Would Valarr call them to order, or was she finally free to just... be? Would he think her a threat now, just because she had the same bits as him dangling between her legs? She didn't want any stupid crown! She just wanted to feel... accepted.

Vys scuffed the sand with a paw as she slunk sullenly along the shore.

It was a nice place they were... hanging out at? Claiming? Vys wasn't sure. She didn't know what her brothers plans were, and she didn't know what she wanted.

She thought, then, of Idunn; of pretty blonde fur and golden eyes, of the scent of hunts and victory, of a dark-flecked back and growls pushing her to be as wild as she wanted. That was the life, she thought. That glorious creature was gods-knows where living its absolute best life, and some tiny little part of Vys thought she should've gone with. Should've clung to the freedom and saw what this world had to offer. It was never too late, she kept telling herself, and yet she kept turning back to the crimson woods and the cosmic isle beyond like a dog returning faithfully to the master who whipped it just because it didn't know any different life awaited.

And so the dog wandered, uncertain, frustrated, upon an open beach at night with the forest to her side and the endless sea to the other. ]]> <![CDATA[A Blank Slate]]> https://vivariumrpg.com/showthread.php?tid=13603 Mon, 07 Sep 2026 18:00:40 -0400 Ultan]]> https://vivariumrpg.com/showthread.php?tid=13603

The sun was still shining bright on the land. Ultan had gotten used to the weather, and meeting some of the locals helped get him acquainted to what this land was like. It was much better than where he grew up, and he wouldn't take it back in any way.

Next to the Sterling River, he stopped by the water's edge to take a drink. He stayed still on his stomach as he took in the refreshing cool drink. Feeling relaxed in the moment, the sounds of the forest calming and soothing, as Ultan grew a small smile on his face while he refreshed his thirst.

]]>

The sun was still shining bright on the land. Ultan had gotten used to the weather, and meeting some of the locals helped get him acquainted to what this land was like. It was much better than where he grew up, and he wouldn't take it back in any way.

Next to the Sterling River, he stopped by the water's edge to take a drink. He stayed still on his stomach as he took in the refreshing cool drink. Feeling relaxed in the moment, the sounds of the forest calming and soothing, as Ultan grew a small smile on his face while he refreshed his thirst.

]]> <![CDATA[Here my bones lie with yours]]> https://vivariumrpg.com/showthread.php?tid=13595 Mon, 07 Sep 2026 00:07:36 -0400 EV.]]> https://vivariumrpg.com/showthread.php?tid=13595
She’d led enough groups in her life to know how strangers hanging around the edges tended to go. Someone would come investigate, which meant introductions and questions and probably an offer to help the poor old blind woman wandering around by herself. An enthusiastic hell no to that! She’d rather walk around.

Which was exactly what she’d done, keeping the strongest concentration of their scent at a distance as she worked her way south. It took longer, obviously, because everything took longer when you couldn’t see where the fuck you were going. But hey, Evergreen had managed okay for years and wasn’t about to start complaining now.

Well, she was going to complain, just not about that. “Stupid fucking river.” See? That deserved complaining! She’d followed the thing for what felt like half the damn day before finally finding a fallen tree stretched across a narrow-enough section to be useful. Crossing it had involved testing nearly every inch before trusting her weight to it and keeping her body low enough that, had anyone witnessed the whole ordeal, Ev would’ve been forced to kill them, probably. She’d only just gotten back from being dead. Murder seemed like too much of a headache this early into her second go at things.

At least the ground had softened considerably since then. Stone had gradually given way to soil and grass, though the trade-off seemed to be roots, and so many of them, too. Ev caught the front of one paw against another and stumbled half a step before recovering with an irritated flick of her tail. “Yeah, fuck you too,” she snarled, gave the offending root a kick for good measure, and continued.

Wherever she’d ended up, there were considerably more trees here. She could hear their leaves shifting overhead and feel the occasional break in the breeze whenever the trunks grew particularly dense. It smelled different, too: greener, damp earth, bark, plants she couldn’t put names to and about seventeen other things all fighting for her attention at once. Not bad, as far as new places go. She still had no fucking clue where she was.

Ev sighed and slowed, nose lifting as she tried to decide whether continuing in roughly the same direction would get her somewhere useful or just introduce her to another landmark intent on ruining her day.

“I swear to god, if there’s another river,” She let the grumbled threat hang there. Mostly because she hadn’t decided what exactly she planned to do to the river.

( ooc: she’s on the northern side of Raven’s Grove )



]]>
She’d led enough groups in her life to know how strangers hanging around the edges tended to go. Someone would come investigate, which meant introductions and questions and probably an offer to help the poor old blind woman wandering around by herself. An enthusiastic hell no to that! She’d rather walk around.

Which was exactly what she’d done, keeping the strongest concentration of their scent at a distance as she worked her way south. It took longer, obviously, because everything took longer when you couldn’t see where the fuck you were going. But hey, Evergreen had managed okay for years and wasn’t about to start complaining now.

Well, she was going to complain, just not about that. “Stupid fucking river.” See? That deserved complaining! She’d followed the thing for what felt like half the damn day before finally finding a fallen tree stretched across a narrow-enough section to be useful. Crossing it had involved testing nearly every inch before trusting her weight to it and keeping her body low enough that, had anyone witnessed the whole ordeal, Ev would’ve been forced to kill them, probably. She’d only just gotten back from being dead. Murder seemed like too much of a headache this early into her second go at things.

At least the ground had softened considerably since then. Stone had gradually given way to soil and grass, though the trade-off seemed to be roots, and so many of them, too. Ev caught the front of one paw against another and stumbled half a step before recovering with an irritated flick of her tail. “Yeah, fuck you too,” she snarled, gave the offending root a kick for good measure, and continued.

Wherever she’d ended up, there were considerably more trees here. She could hear their leaves shifting overhead and feel the occasional break in the breeze whenever the trunks grew particularly dense. It smelled different, too: greener, damp earth, bark, plants she couldn’t put names to and about seventeen other things all fighting for her attention at once. Not bad, as far as new places go. She still had no fucking clue where she was.

Ev sighed and slowed, nose lifting as she tried to decide whether continuing in roughly the same direction would get her somewhere useful or just introduce her to another landmark intent on ruining her day.

“I swear to god, if there’s another river,” She let the grumbled threat hang there. Mostly because she hadn’t decided what exactly she planned to do to the river.

( ooc: she’s on the northern side of Raven’s Grove )



]]> <![CDATA[what was I made for?]]> https://vivariumrpg.com/showthread.php?tid=13578 Sat, 05 Sep 2026 17:36:35 -0400 Saereth]]> https://vivariumrpg.com/showthread.php?tid=13578
there came a point when the pain was too much to bear, and she floated above her body looking down at the scene. time seemed to go on endlessly here. her life flashed by her- when she thought she had so much time ahead of her and thought she’d make so many memories with this man who she thought was her knight in shining armor. now there was just a gaping hole where her heart had been, both figuratively and literally.

what did she do to deserve this?

...wait what did she do?

it was so cold and her mind was fuzzy.

somewhere someone was screaming in agony. somewhere someone’s cries were going unanswered. their heart fracturing into a million pieces.

was it her?

she couldn't remember.

all she knew was the dark and the icy touch of death. so she closed her eyes and fell into eternal numbness. a sweet alluring promise whispered into her ear and everything faded.

⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊⊱·✶·⊰₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹ ⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊⊱·✶·⊰₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹


somewhere a stream could be heard trickling over rocks. birds singing their songs overhead. a slight breeze caressing against her, waking her up. but where was she? wasn’t she just somewhere else?

her brain was full of fog and her eyelids felt like they were glued shut. her limbs felt like they were a thousand pounds, but something felt off. something wasn’t quite right.

she dared to open her eyes and immediately regretted her decision. the brightness blinded her and made stars appear every time she blinked. she slowly let her eyes adjust and carefully peered one eye open to make sure she could actually see.

the sight before her was wondrous, a beautiful stream coasted lazily not far from where she lay and the forest around her seemed like it never ended, the breeze easily moved through them- making a sound she could easily fall back asleep to.

kind of like back home… the small voice in the back of her mind reminded her.

and that’s when it hit her.

everything.

all at once.

fresh tears welled up and spilled over her face, and when she went to wipe them she was met with not hands, but small paws.

a yelp escaped her throat and she looked down making sure she saw what she thought she did. not hands, but paws, and four of them to be exact. cream colored fur with bits of tans and browns covered her.

her breaths came out of her hard and fast. surely this couldn’t be real, these kinds of things didn’t happen! but neither did your fiancé sacrificing you, again that little voice spoke.

and that’s when she laughed, and the laughter turned into tears, and the tears turned into sobs.

she felt the ache, the emptiness in her chest and wondered if her soul was gone for forever. would she have a new one with this new body? or would she be forever damned? she swore she could still feel death’s touch and a shiver ran down along her spine.

she sat in the middle of the forest, alone and afraid, tears streaming steadily down her face. she thought she saw a shadow move through the trees, but it must’ve been a trick of the light because when she looked up nothing was there.]]>
there came a point when the pain was too much to bear, and she floated above her body looking down at the scene. time seemed to go on endlessly here. her life flashed by her- when she thought she had so much time ahead of her and thought she’d make so many memories with this man who she thought was her knight in shining armor. now there was just a gaping hole where her heart had been, both figuratively and literally.

what did she do to deserve this?

...wait what did she do?

it was so cold and her mind was fuzzy.

somewhere someone was screaming in agony. somewhere someone’s cries were going unanswered. their heart fracturing into a million pieces.

was it her?

she couldn't remember.

all she knew was the dark and the icy touch of death. so she closed her eyes and fell into eternal numbness. a sweet alluring promise whispered into her ear and everything faded.

⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊⊱·✶·⊰₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹ ⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊⊱·✶·⊰₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹


somewhere a stream could be heard trickling over rocks. birds singing their songs overhead. a slight breeze caressing against her, waking her up. but where was she? wasn’t she just somewhere else?

her brain was full of fog and her eyelids felt like they were glued shut. her limbs felt like they were a thousand pounds, but something felt off. something wasn’t quite right.

she dared to open her eyes and immediately regretted her decision. the brightness blinded her and made stars appear every time she blinked. she slowly let her eyes adjust and carefully peered one eye open to make sure she could actually see.

the sight before her was wondrous, a beautiful stream coasted lazily not far from where she lay and the forest around her seemed like it never ended, the breeze easily moved through them- making a sound she could easily fall back asleep to.

kind of like back home… the small voice in the back of her mind reminded her.

and that’s when it hit her.

everything.

all at once.

fresh tears welled up and spilled over her face, and when she went to wipe them she was met with not hands, but small paws.

a yelp escaped her throat and she looked down making sure she saw what she thought she did. not hands, but paws, and four of them to be exact. cream colored fur with bits of tans and browns covered her.

her breaths came out of her hard and fast. surely this couldn’t be real, these kinds of things didn’t happen! but neither did your fiancé sacrificing you, again that little voice spoke.

and that’s when she laughed, and the laughter turned into tears, and the tears turned into sobs.

she felt the ache, the emptiness in her chest and wondered if her soul was gone for forever. would she have a new one with this new body? or would she be forever damned? she swore she could still feel death’s touch and a shiver ran down along her spine.

she sat in the middle of the forest, alone and afraid, tears streaming steadily down her face. she thought she saw a shadow move through the trees, but it must’ve been a trick of the light because when she looked up nothing was there.]]> <![CDATA[The New Land]]> https://vivariumrpg.com/showthread.php?tid=13576 Sat, 05 Sep 2026 12:09:10 -0400 Ultan]]> https://vivariumrpg.com/showthread.php?tid=13576

He said no, he wanted nothing to do with his birth pack. He was just a tool to them unable to weapon for them to use at their will. He wasn't able to be the wolf he wanted to be, so he chose to be free. Freedom came with bruises and cuts, the price he had to pay. When he walked away victorious, a dense thick fog surrounded him. Thick enough to where he couldn't even see a bush in front of him. He just kept walking forward, making sure he was far away from his birth pack.

Ultan wasn't sure if had been walking for minutes or for hours, but it felt like a while before the fog cleared from around him. His eyes looked to see a forest, but it was obvious to him that this was not the same forest that he grew up in. There was no scent of pack, just the lingering scent that was stuck on him. The large, brutish, bruised wolf was all alone. He searched for the nearest water source, but noticing how quiet and peaceful this place was. Questions lingered in his head, trying to fully understand what just happened, but right now he was enjoying the fact that there was no evidence of his past going with him.

The river came into view, as the injured wolf slowly leaned down to refresh himself. The pain was still there, enough to make Ultan lay down on his stomach to take in the water. It wasn't the first time he felt this level of pain, but this time it was all worth it. He was free, that's all that mattered.

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He said no, he wanted nothing to do with his birth pack. He was just a tool to them unable to weapon for them to use at their will. He wasn't able to be the wolf he wanted to be, so he chose to be free. Freedom came with bruises and cuts, the price he had to pay. When he walked away victorious, a dense thick fog surrounded him. Thick enough to where he couldn't even see a bush in front of him. He just kept walking forward, making sure he was far away from his birth pack.

Ultan wasn't sure if had been walking for minutes or for hours, but it felt like a while before the fog cleared from around him. His eyes looked to see a forest, but it was obvious to him that this was not the same forest that he grew up in. There was no scent of pack, just the lingering scent that was stuck on him. The large, brutish, bruised wolf was all alone. He searched for the nearest water source, but noticing how quiet and peaceful this place was. Questions lingered in his head, trying to fully understand what just happened, but right now he was enjoying the fact that there was no evidence of his past going with him.

The river came into view, as the injured wolf slowly leaned down to refresh himself. The pain was still there, enough to make Ultan lay down on his stomach to take in the water. It wasn't the first time he felt this level of pain, but this time it was all worth it. He was free, that's all that mattered.

]]> <![CDATA[Little Gods and Goddesses Arise Anew]]> https://vivariumrpg.com/showthread.php?tid=13572 Fri, 04 Sep 2026 19:02:31 -0400 Ceridwen]]> https://vivariumrpg.com/showthread.php?tid=13572
Motherhood had always been told to her as such a precious and most beautiful thing, but now she was wondering how much of that was just simply being romanticized. Regardless of her discomfort however, Ceridwen did not regret the conception made with Hermes so many suns ago. The man had taken up a permanent place in her heart, making her feel like the world was more then what it seemed. That there could be possibilities in her life that she had never even considered. These coming little ones being one of them.

Another really hard contraction hit her, causing her to cry out slightly in pain. The first pup was born, a child of golds and browns with the lightest of dappling on the pup's paws and undercarriage. They were a male, a first born son of her very own. She licked and cleaned him, making sure that he was crying out with a fierceness before moving him to suckle. The pup latched on without much trouble, quieting down as he nursed tot his heart's content.

Ceridwen had barely begun to relax when the next contractions hit her. These were more straight forward and felt less like stabbing. More like muscle pains after a really long travel without food. Then with a slight pop, the next puppy was born. A child that reminded her of a nice mix between her and Hermes. A little girl carrying a coat of earthen colors and the cutest ear tufts. She was quiet the looker, reminding her of some of her own lineage though she had the spark and fire of her own father.

Ceridwen made the same moves to the second child, cleaning and making sure they were breathing and crying before moving them to nurse. Two pups now born and feeding, the mother was doing her best to rest before the last puppy came into the world. A pale cream child entered the world next, another little boy for her to spoil. Again he was cleaned and made sure he was crying and breathing. Then moved to nurse from her along with the rest of his siblings.

The new mother was now completely tired out, passing what was left in her body to be rid of later when the little ones were asleep. Outside the morning sun was completely risen in the blue sky. All was calm and quiet as the new family huddled close together in the protection of their den. Ceridwen instantly thought of their father, wondering how he was doing and if he would be proud to be the father of this new brood. Wondering at the same time if he would be proud of her.

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Motherhood had always been told to her as such a precious and most beautiful thing, but now she was wondering how much of that was just simply being romanticized. Regardless of her discomfort however, Ceridwen did not regret the conception made with Hermes so many suns ago. The man had taken up a permanent place in her heart, making her feel like the world was more then what it seemed. That there could be possibilities in her life that she had never even considered. These coming little ones being one of them.

Another really hard contraction hit her, causing her to cry out slightly in pain. The first pup was born, a child of golds and browns with the lightest of dappling on the pup's paws and undercarriage. They were a male, a first born son of her very own. She licked and cleaned him, making sure that he was crying out with a fierceness before moving him to suckle. The pup latched on without much trouble, quieting down as he nursed tot his heart's content.

Ceridwen had barely begun to relax when the next contractions hit her. These were more straight forward and felt less like stabbing. More like muscle pains after a really long travel without food. Then with a slight pop, the next puppy was born. A child that reminded her of a nice mix between her and Hermes. A little girl carrying a coat of earthen colors and the cutest ear tufts. She was quiet the looker, reminding her of some of her own lineage though she had the spark and fire of her own father.

Ceridwen made the same moves to the second child, cleaning and making sure they were breathing and crying before moving them to nurse. Two pups now born and feeding, the mother was doing her best to rest before the last puppy came into the world. A pale cream child entered the world next, another little boy for her to spoil. Again he was cleaned and made sure he was crying and breathing. Then moved to nurse from her along with the rest of his siblings.

The new mother was now completely tired out, passing what was left in her body to be rid of later when the little ones were asleep. Outside the morning sun was completely risen in the blue sky. All was calm and quiet as the new family huddled close together in the protection of their den. Ceridwen instantly thought of their father, wondering how he was doing and if he would be proud to be the father of this new brood. Wondering at the same time if he would be proud of her.

]]>