Mrimm

Rank » Valsharen

Gender » Female

PSP » 3

Date Bonded » October 4, 2020

Bonded At » The Worst Loneliness by David Bowie

Title » The Barren Mother Valsharen

Font » #0f7329

Name Translation » Guide/Key/Inspiration

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Fun Fact ✧ Mrimm's original name (prior to bonding Haelys) was Erthe, which means Winter.

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A once-ebony coat cloaks this aging queen. Unmarked by the way of the lesser ranks, it nonetheless can no longer be described as a solid blanket of black fur, now grizzled almost white at the edges of her crows-footed eyes and the end of her snout, more white creeping up between her toes like frosted weeds. Her eyes, though, betray no age in themselves, almost out of place with their sparkling emerald brilliance. She has lost her youth, but not her wits.

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The purpose of the Valsharen pair is to carry on the legacy of the Qu'ellar, to protect and continue the bloodline, to lead their family into ever greater… Greatness. Look, I'm really tired, go along with that. You're getting an Ikal'daka post. Don't be picky.

Anyway.

In the case of the Valsharess in particular, if there is such a queen among them, it isn't surprising that she might feel particular herself about her motherhood. It is her duty to give birth to the next generation, to bring into the world more of them so that they might not die out, that the history of their particular Qu'ellar will not be lost to time, their ways not fading into oblivion.

It was therefore a source of deep melancholy that the barren mother could not. She had a mate, a virile Valuk, but… What one thinks one is destined for and what one is capable of do not always align. No shame or blame was ever thrown her way by the other Ikal'daka, but that did not prevent her from blaming and shaming herself, with each season that passed by her with no fortune. All she had longed for, to be a mother like her mother before her, to be wise and kind and able to bring new life into the world…

It would never be so.

She inherited her rank, of course, but unable to provide any life herself, she took to gathering others of a certain hopelessness. Where some houses were strictly formed by blood, she gathered up the other misfits of the world, substituting them for the pups she would never have.

What do you do, when your whole life, your whole dream, your whole sense of purpose, cannot be fulfilled? And not simply because it won't be, because circumstances were right, because you didn't try hard enough — because it literally can't? No matter what you do? One thing. You want one thing your whole life, one thing that's expected from you, and you let the whole world down.

Can you imagine that loneliness?

Her name means winter, a barren season that produces and yields only harsh emptiness. And signifies the coldness that she has wrapped around herself as a protective veil, to prevent feeling the inevitable pain of losing what few she has gathered around her. She lost her children before they were ever created; she can't bear the thought of losing those she has grown fond of as well.

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↠ Description by Art

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Thalack

Rank » Sargtlin

Gender » Male

PSP » 2

Date Bonded » October 4, 2020

Bonded At » BPSP Redemption

Title » This Is War Sargtlin

Font » #7c0c0c

Name Translation » War

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Fun Fact ✧ Thalack was the first official bonded Kal'daka on this version of Whazzit!

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A lone, middle-aged Kal'daka is not a common sight, though Thalack is not a common creature. His bloodthirst is unmatched and drives his actions selfishly. He has a difficult time integrating into groups; he is not a team player, nor is betrayal or duplicity beyond him. He was once part of a pack and was exiled for reasons he will not detail, changing his name and venturing the world alone. Violence and aggression is what he knows and how he lives. Although he is simple-minded in terms of his narrow scope of lifestyle, he is not daft--he simply cannot control his brutal spirit, and he is aware of this. It was not until he came across Haelys and observed her treachery and manipulation for her own devices that he considered there might be a humanoid able to understand his actions and mindset. Even better, at the time they crossed paths, this humanoid was willing to start a war, spreading the kerosene and offering somebody else the match. Thalack is more than willing to surround himself with individuals that share some of his values or opinions, or at least would be willing to indulge his savage soul. He speaks mostly Drow, but has picked up enough of the Common language to communicate basics. He prefers communication through body language and senses, for those are more real.

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As with most of his rank, he is large in frame and bulky. His lifetime of fighting is obvious in the missing patches of fur, scarring, and even subtle coat-color changes that are a result of regrowth after battle. He is covered in a dark grey that looks like it may have been black at some point, but has faded and worn over time. One thick band wraps around each leg up high, close to his body, in a medium grey. His eyes are a deep, dark brown with the slightest hint of a rusty hue. Despite the apparent wear and tear across his body, he still seems to be in great physical health, though one should not hope for the chance to assess this.

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↠ Description by me

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Ssivah

Rank » Neccasalmor

Gender » Female

PSP » 1

Date Bonded » December 27, 2020

Bonded At » Secret Keehar 2020

Title » The Dead of Winter Blossoms Into Spring Neccasalmor

Font » #4820ba

Name Translation » Voice

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A little bit shorter than most of her rank, this Neccasalmor has a gentle demeanor to her. Her fur is the white of birch bark, with long but spindly legs, a small frame, with a dusting of an ever so-slightly darker grey speckled throughout her fur. The circle that halos her neck is the purest of whites, the color of freshly fallen snow, and noticeable only when you look closely enough. Her eyes are the most striking thing about her, a deep, shining violet.

While she has been gifted with a strong amount of magic, this Neccasalmor's gifts seem to have turned a bit strange. She can communicate with spirits, summon faerie fire, and resurrect the dead, but these powers are incredibly muted, as if she had no talent at all. She was seen as a failure due to her inability to work the magics at a high level, not matter how much time and effort she put into training her abilities, until one day, in the deadest of winter, she could hear spirits. Not the sound of the dead, per se, but the sound of sleeping. She couldn't figure out what these whisperings were, not at first, but came to realize, as she learned the language and the voices, that it was the plants around her speaking to her. It has been a few years now, with her working on her abilities as they are, outcasted from Qu'ellar but more intune with herself than she could have ever been previously. She can hear the forest speaking to her in the winter, when the life around her is "dead", and hears almost nothing when the forest is at its liveliest, blossoming and thriving in the spring or summer (though encounters with larger dead plants she can hear). The irony in her ability is that she can turn back the clock, revive dead plants that offered her comfort into living things that become silent. She has grown to be at peace with her self-created loneliness, and is most at comfort when it is coldest. The best part of the winter is that nothing is truly dead, and while she cannot bring a hibernating plant back to "life", she can hear, instead, the living. The regular magics of a Neccasalmor at this point, are so unused and out of practice that she'd need to work hard at the abilities once again.

She is often lost in thought, especially when the sounds of the plants around her are loudest, seemingly often in a dream-like state. And that is fitting because she is a dreamer, even turned away from her family and home, looking at the rose beyond the thorns. She is certainly a go-with-the-flow creature, and while she is able to heal and hear the plant-life around her, she cannot control anything and is happy to see where her life and circumstances take her. Because of her past, however, she has become independent, a lone-wolf so to speak, and while she is cooperative and generally would like benefit those around her, will easily and without regret fade away and watch out for herself if she feels even the slightest bit threatened. She is friendly and sweet, but understanding her is difficult, and she will never feel the need to explain herself anyway.

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↠ Description by Henna

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Nika

Rank » Hithern

Gender » Female

PSP » 1

Date Bonded » October 4, 2020

Bonded At » The Worst Loneliness by David Bowie

Title » The Broken Vow Hithern

Font » #9e9745

Name Translation » Stranger

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Silver fur, lustrous if not quite shimmering, keeps her warm as she sleeps away her demons. While others have lost weight, she has gained some, unable and unwilling to move with the energy she did as Inlul. Her pelt is soft, although she shies away from even the lightest brush of touch from another. Golden eyes wish they could be dimmer, duller, and more be-fitting of someone as lowly as her. Soft white rings alternate down the length of her still-fluffy tail.

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What of the heretofore ignored Hithern, then? What was her role in all of this? Who was her phorrah, what wrongs had happened to kept her tethered instead of moving on?

It was, of course, to his dear rose that she had been one of the few to promise loyalty and duty to. A fierce protector, in her eyes, who had brought her out of her shell, had been willing to give her chance after chance to build herself into a better servant.

So then why was Cryso alone at the burial, you might wonder. Why did she not step in to guard her when Lasinian put her down, you might also wonder. And you might wonder why no one had spared a mention of sympathy for the devoted vow.

The truth was shameful:

She was a coward.

She should have been there, should have died with her, should have refused to let her phorrah be taken without resistance, but she was afraid. Have you seen the fury of an unleashed Sargtlin? One you have been raised since birth to respect and fear as one you never question? Have you seen the crowd close in on you as you stand almost alone with no support, everyone chanting, so it seems, for the death of your reason for being alive?

So she ran away. Unlike the Faern and Neccasalmor, she did not divide herself from the Qu'ellar and lurk; no, she had run away, as far as her own legs could carry her, and kept running for the rest of her life. She was no fighter! She was no great mastermind of plans and manipulations! SHe was only a meek Hithern, and in the end, she couldn't even be that.

She became Nika, a Stranger to all, not worthy of any true name or station in life or in death after failing to uphold her one job.

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↠ Description by Art