Post by Flightless ☂ on Jun 24, 2009 12:23:03 GMT -5
Warning: mature content below!
Oh my God, this hurts like hell. ● Persephone / Perse`
I had that dream again where ● ( Per-seh-phone / Per-say)
I was lost for good in outer space. ● maiden
Tell me, doctor, how to shake ● two
a waking nightmare that is only ● june 15th.
worse when I am sleeping. ●heevlane
Kill the messenger. I swear it's not me, it's just someone I used to know. ●Alluring. Enticing. Mesmeric. Provocative. Seductive.
These words describe Perse` in a nutshell. Of course, being a Heevlane, it's hard to be seductive; no one prefers a large, brutely female, hm? Surprisingly, be thankful she was a runt, for her muscles are twenty-five percent less than the average Heevlane, and she could almost pass for a Delspurr, but her height throws that option out the window. Her frame is still rather tall, only a few inches shorter than the average, but her muscles aren't large and ripping her flesh or anything. In fact, she's a good 40 or 50 pounds below the average weight, and it's a surprise she didn't die in her pup-hood. You can usually see her hips or ribs slightly poking from beneath her flesh and pelt. Also, the only reason she's still alive is because her mother was a large, brutely female and her father was a huge, husky male and the two could easily care for such a sick pup. Her chest is deep, but narrow, apparently encaging a thick heart, a stable set of lungs, and a safe rib cage; all of these traits enhance her already stimulated stamina, speed, and agility by a good bit. To support her agility, she was blessed with long, thick hindlegs, longer, thinner forelimbs, and a stream-lined body in general. Her paws are rather tiny, giving her a smaller appearance. Her pelt is a deep charcoal color, mixed with tufts of lighter grays. The markings that cover most of her body are quite faint, but quite noticeable as well. They are a lime green, the same color of her eyes that seem to glow in the dark, but between the layers of her pitch black ebony undercoat and variously gray overcoat, so it is slightly curtained. They are floral-like, curving and intertwining beautifully along her slim body. There's something about her, possibly her confidence, that is simply radiant about her, giving her an air of majesty.
I'm gonna send a little rain to pour down on you. Rain that makes the flowers bloom. ●Well, Persephone is an optimist. Plain and simple. She always sees the cup half-full instead of half-empty, and she glows with happiness, self-respect, and pride. She is kind and looks out for the well-being of others, but doesn't allow anyone to push her over. She has quite a strong soul and stands up for her beliefs. Everyone has flaws. Perse`'s main flaw is her insecurity, which leads to excessive fear. Outside, she's a confident brick wall, but inside, she's confused, self-conscious, and too aware of others. Also, her tolerance of pain is very low, and hates the slightest prick of it. You could call her a wuss, and she'd agree. Pain could never be self-inflicted, and if she was in a Saw movie, she'd die immediately. It seems she got her ego and pride from her father and her insecurities and faith from her mother.
Rain to leave you all alone. That keeps eyelashes falling and wishes washed away. ●Dawn broke June 15th of 2007, and the alphess's water broke as well. The labor was quick and over sooner than it started. A female gave birth to three healthy males and one sick runt female, me. She was disappointed, for I was a tiny, thin disgrace of the Heevlane kind, and for a long while, I couldn't be seen by anyone but my mother. Even my father was included in the block list. She kept me close to her, always, almost smothering me a lot. A week or two went by of nursing, and the boys and I were a bit bigger. She now could name each of us. Zolo. Beckon. Vium. She took a long pause as she looked at me. Persephone. A long, beautiful name for hope of a long, beautiful life. Puphood was a horrible time for me. All of my "friends" constantly picked a physical fight with my, knowing he/she would win. What made it truly fun for them, however, was that I attempted to fight back. Of course, I was the runt of the entire pack, and I always lost. I never won a fight. This continued for six months, and it scarred me a great bit, inflicting my personality. When I was about seven months of age, my mother got caught in a deep depression and fled the pack entirely, possibly committing suicide. I wouldn't know. I haven't seen her since. Father was now lonely, and the closest female to him was me. You know what's next. He raped me. Every night before dawn when the entire pack was asleep but the two of us. At first, I fought back, the two of us drawing blood until I lost. But after about a month, I gave up. I never won. I always lost. Each night went the same way. He'd wake me up an hour before the sun would rise and violently push me towards the edge of the clearing, past the line of trees to bundle of boulders that created a cave of sorts. He'd shove me in the corner, spit on me, and say the same thing: I love you, Persephone. I love you. And I'd think the same thing: No, you don't. It would start. He'd rip at my ears, scruff, neck, and anything else he could get a hold of as he mounted. Blood was always shed. I had to blame my scabs, scars, and wounds on my clumsiness, but everyone knew it wasn't that, they just thought it was my brothers playing too rough. It always ended the same way after he climbed onto me, not that it was much of a climb. He'd thrust, moan, and tell me the same fucking things: I love you, Persephone. This is for the better. This is for us. This is for me. I love you. And from there he'd rant on about how this was "okay." No, it wasn't fucking okay. None of this was "okay." You're fucking raping me, you sick freak! I kept my thoughts to myself. Always. Ugh. And from there, it only got worse. It would get more violent, more painful, more.. wrong. I would squirm as the pain overwhelmed me, but I could never get away. In fact, he got more out of it when I squirmed. I anticipated the finish, it was always my favorite part out of it all, not saying much of course. He would finally stop, pull his member out, and slide off of me, releasing all the pressure of his weight from my shaking stilts. He'd shove me back to my spot where I slept every night, and I cried until the sun broke the horizon. Of course, he'd get away with it. That ass hole of a "father" couldn't get caught. Until the night I betrayed him. He led me back to the same old spot, but this time was different. He mounted me, and after a few minutes, I yelped it as loud as I could. No! Get the fuck off me, you sick freak! Leave me the fuck alone! And as that was said, I got from under him, turned on him, and I fought back. I tried my hardest to hurt him as badly as I could. I was proud, for I watched as my nails dug into his skull, starting from the opening of his left ear to the end of the left side of his snout, gouging his left eye out in the meantime. Blood poured from his face, and he yelped, which was most expected. My voice had echoed from the "cave" to the clearing, and they all rushed to see the final incident. Ashamed and exiled, he cursed my life. Right there. Exact words: Persephone, you have ashamed me and caused my own pack to exile me. Fuck you. I damn you to a life in the Underworld. What he did not know is that he truly did curse me. I was damned to a life of hell. I fled the opposite way of him, always a nomad, avoiding contact with all.
I'm gonna send a little rain your way. ●love- Well, Snap & I have a plot going on, so she's not exactly looking. (: (Explains the last part of the history.)
song- Kill the Messenger by Jack's Mannequin.
