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Fera Stillborn
Killed: October 10, 2014 at 04:35 am EDT
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Born: November 27, 2012 Forum Topics Started: 0
Race: Witch Forum Posts / Replies: 6
Affiliation: No Affiliation Mail Replies Sent: 1042
Home City: Moscow Mail Sent: 85
In Union With: Not in Union Last Login:
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Current Mood: Contemplative 
Even Death laughs at impotency.

Rank 09: 03/12/2013 Siren

Rank 10: 04/05/2013 Entrancer

Rank 11: 04/24/2013 Apollyon

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I love my Minion Raiding Party, but not all at once
My Minion Raiding Party can beat up your Minion Raiding Party
My Minion Raiding Party stole all my clothes
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Fera Stillborn's Biography

((I am willing to role play. Please be CREATIVE, INTELLIGENT, and use GOOD GRAMMAR--spelling is a hit-or-miss sort of thing, as long as I can understand your meaning. Put effort into your work and I will match it. Steal and attack as you wish, online or off.))

The moon was red on this night of the birth of his progeny. It had been golden and white only the night before. It was a bad omen. He swallowed as fear dribbled down his spine. The healer insisted that he should kill the child that would be born on a night with a blood moon. He refused. He was the chief of his tribe and this was his first born. His woman was one of great breeding but he had had trouble with the Mother Spirit. Up until ten full moons ago, he, the leader of his tribe, believed he was cursed to never have an heir.

His woman made no sound as her labor progressed, only heavy breathing. The man felt a strong sense of pride in his mate. She was a brave woman, broad shoulders, wide hips and narrow waist, taller than many in this tribe. The custom of his tribe was to lay with whomever he wished, but when she came to him many moons ago, he had never been with another. Her black eyes shone with fervor and fierce intelligence and her raven hair was matted with dirt and sweat. The forest was a traditional place to birth children, next to running water. The smell in the air sizzled like the fat of a beast over a fire but smelled sharper... like the taste in blood. Blood in the air. He did not frighten easily but his instincts were telling him he needed to run.

His usefulness ended with his ability to mop the sweat from his woman's brow. The healer had refused to help with the birthing. He wanted to plead with the healer to help because he knew how perilous birthing could be for his mate. It was her first and she could die. But he was chief, so he had her killed for disobedience. The only people who seemed to know about birthing were the other mothers of the tribe and they had long since left, believing the death of a healer to be sacrilegious. Indeed, bad luck seemed to follow him now. His mate did no reassuring but her confidence and resolution to give him a child was solid enough to keep him from straying in his faith.

The blood moon reached the height of its rise and his mate screamed. He felt sweat pour out of his body and chill on his skin. The scream was not that of a woman, but that of a demon. The screamed echoed and lingered in his ears and she laughed--IT laughed at him as it birthed his child. There was too much blood for his mate to live through the process. Even as he mourned her, the demon laughed with her lips then pushed out the child. The demon in his woman smiled and left, leaving the body limp.

It was several moments before he could make himself move toward the body and the still form of his heir. He felt tears of despair on his cheeks. The child did not breathe. He stared, unsure what to do, thinking of how he had failed his family. Suddenly, a glimmer of hope sparked inside of him. He remembered how the healer pushed on the chest of a small child, and breathed into his mouth after drowning in the stream and the child came to life after coughing up the water.

He picked up the sticky form of his child, a girl. She looked beautiful, he thought. He laid her down on her stomach on his lap and used two fingers to push on her back. His breath came out in cold foggy bursts now. Dawn was coming. He knew his little daughter was dead, but he had nothing else, so he kept pushing lightly, hoping against hope. Maybe it was a trick of the shadows lightening, but he thought he saw her fingers clench in a tiny fist. A moment later, her body tensed and she let out a strong newborn cry. He sobbed.

He knew in the back of his mind that his child had been dead for far too long to be his. It could be the demon, come to toy with his heart, but hope was too strong and the light in his daughter's eyes as she cried was too beautiful. He held her close and kissed her forehead then took her to her mother's breast, still warm, and had her drink her first meal. It mixed with his mate's dead blood, but he did not see it. She fed hungrily, growling in her throat.

He smiled, and another spark of fear crawled up his spine. "My little feral child... Fera."


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Lenny Shultz
Black Lord

Lang Ren

Ro TavVin


Professor Moriarty




Last five threads posted in:
ForumSubjectLast Post
InterviewsInterview with Matt Schiariti
Created by Zeddicus Zorander
InterviewsInterview with Felicia Tatum
Created by Zeddicus Zorander
InterviewsInterview with Danielle Bannister
Created by Zeddicus Zorander
Lenny Shultz 09/12/14 I miss you and your beautifully evil mind.
mist 03/17/14
mist 03/06/14
mist 10/31/13
Lisbeth Salander 07/16/13 Yes. [winks and strolls on]
Lisbeth Salander 07/16/13 [steals back profile song]
Lenny Shultz 06/11/13 I slump over my knees, panting hard. Screw the person who says vampires can't get exhausted. I look up at Fera through blood- and sweat-soaked bangs. She might look bad, but I look far worse. Bruises, broken things, lacerations. Yeah, I'm whumped. "So, what you're saying," I say between great heaving breaths. "Is that you had to use more than a pinky?"
Lenny Shultz 05/25/13 Fera always says such nice things when I grow stronger. She's strangely encouraging but I like it and I want to share in her enthusiasm. I address a Hallmark card to her and leave it in the dungeon for her to find.

"Happy Birthday" it says in glitter on the front. Inside are more well wishes. On the bottom in relatively neat script is a sort of apology. "The pharmacy didn't have 'Please don't kill me with your pinky' cards. No, but really. You're like really strong now and that's awesome. -Lenny"
Lisbeth Salander 05/15/13 With myself? [raises brow] You meant, by myself I am sure. [nods] Of course.
Lisbeth Salander 05/15/13 [plays with lip ring] I am immune to the taser. I used myself for practice.
Lisbeth Salander 05/15/13 Thank you for friending me. You people are taking my fun away. Who will I taser now? [smirks]
Lisbeth Salander 05/09/13 Thank you.
Selina Kyle 04/17/13 Thank you so much *meow*
Lenny Shultz 04/13/13 "Shucks, you embarrass me so..." But there's no trace of modesty in my voice or face. A small grin threatens to break my face but the scar tissue built upon my cheek remains still. I can barely recall a time where I felt compassion for another human being. Perhaps another vampire or even the woman before me, but she is as human as I.
mist 04/07/13 *Thanks Fera my coven brother most appreciated*
mist 03/31/13
Lenny Shultz 02/27/13 I touch my forehead as if I had a hat on, a small nod of thanks to the stranger.
mist 02/14/13 *Thanks for the comment my friend ,very well said .Very good job done on that i do say as well.*
mist 02/14/13
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