~!@#$%^&*()_+ -- Territory South

[ Show ]

Support VoyForums

[ Shrink ]

VoyForums Announcement: Programming and providing support for this service has been a labor of love since 1997. We are one of the few services online who values our users' privacy, and have never sold your information. We have even fought hard to defend your privacy in legal cases; however, we've done it with almost no financial support -- paying out of pocket to continue providing the service. Due to the issues imposed on us by advertisers, we also stopped hosting most ads on the forums many years ago. We hope you appreciate our efforts.

Show your support by donating any amount. (Note: We are still technically a for-profit company, so your contribution is not tax-deductible.) PayPal Acct: Feedback:

Donate to VoyForums (PayPal):

[ Login ] [ Main index ] [ Search | Check update time | Archives: 1 ]

[ Next Thread | Previous Thread | Next Message | Previous Message ]

Date Posted: 16:23:09 06/11/04 Fri
Author: Deyt
Subject: ~!@#$%^&*()_+
In reply to: Ayrist 's message, "Battles..." on 01:22:47 06/11/04 Fri

Vulturesque ambience ripples in a single, matted shade of black. Deyt's body sweeps and her taut, emaciated skin shivers slightly at the cry of peace from who che recognises to be the intruding pack's leader. Justice was done, and the vast hybrid nods sadly to herself.. but at what price? Wings clip and the cyborg brings her great frame in for a landing - which is executed delicately in the highest branches of the trees that can support her. A breath is drawn in - rattling painfully past her severed vocal chords. Swinging her head from side to side, Deyt realises that she probably will not speak again.. but she is thankful that her more important vessels and cords weren't damaged. Another rumbling breath escapes as she hobbles down the tree, distant grey eye still swivelling and seeking out dissents that still wished to fight. None came, however.. save one rebellious tan that was dispatched with a telepathic snarl and an imposing, one-eyed stare. Deyt continues aimlessly forth, milling, making sure they were really leaving.. and watching hopelessly the death and destruction that surrounded her, that sung a melancholy requiem in the air that was still haunted with the woundeds' screaming.

[ Next Thread | Previous Thread | Next Message | Previous Message ]