UNDER CONSTRUCTION
Ishikar
the fallen
and.yet.you.still.mock.me
die
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A solemn creature sat upon a small hill in a clearing. His stomach was sunken far past his ribs and his cinnamon coat was dull, having long lost its sheen to malnutrition. He seemed to be staring off into oblivion with rusty colored eyes but, upon further inspection, one would notice that there were no eyes in the sockets at all. A pearly maggott wriggled happily in the absence of his left eye, chewing on the rotting flesh. His tail had been reduced to a bandaged lump and two bandaged knobs on his shoulders seemed to be the remnants of wings. He was smiling eerily and his grin seemed far out of place on his mutilated face but, then again, perhaps it wasn't so out-of-place; at the corners of his mouth it was split, continuing his dry grin most of the way down his neck. However, this hideous feature was cruely stitched up along is neck in an vain attempt to return him back to normal. Around his forelegs were loose orange stocking-like adornments. Each was held in place by a belt and a strip of the fabric was looped around the back, though it had come loose on the left one. Though concealed, underneath these were bandages from a previous habit that he had since dropped but wore these to resist the temptation. On his forehead were two stumps of horns that seemed to have been broken off and there were many tears in his ears from the violent removal of piercings. His muzzle was tipped upward as if looking to the heavens. Stars dotted the velvet sky and the moon cast its pale light onto the earth below, making the male appear almost like a ghost.
Name. Ishikar
Alias. Ishi
Gender. Male
Height. 55 centimeters
Weight. 130 pounds
Pelt. Cinnamon brown
Optics. N/A
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Sire. Somwhere
Dame. Somewhere
Littermates. Buri
Love. No
Interest. She doesn't know yet
Offspring. None
Accessories. Bandaging on left foreleg
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Into the keyhole
Goes the rusted key
Into its home
To set the lock free
Opening the gate:
The job of the key
We may go home
Ever to be free
-----------/ I
Where to start... I am half- No, further than that. I must give history to the scum that call themselves "Eternals." They are immortal, but not fully; they must sacrifice another living being once their own become frail. In this way, they can live forever but not easily. These hell-hounds originated... Below. They mingled with my kind; taking our food, spreading their beliefs, passing there bloodlines on with our females. Of course, this all started before I was born. Before- but we'll get to that later. The Eternals, it is believed, were sent from their land in banishment but I know the truth: they were sent to find something. The four securities: Lock, Key, Keyhole, and Gate. I am but one of these securities. What were we guarding? None of us knew; we didn't even know we were guarding anything. The Eternals were sent to gather the four of us together for we were a whole. So, in more simple terms, I am 1/4 of a being... Make sense? No. Of course not. We'll start at the beginning of my life.
-----------/ II
My older brother and I are half Eternal so, naturally, we were shunned by mother's kind and looked down on by our father's - not that he stuck around long enough to even see us born. We could never really co-mingle with either group. All we had was each other and the few other half-breeds. I grew the horns, wings, and tail that was natural to the Eternals while my older brother was born with the body of my mothers' kind. The only evidence of his Eternal heritage was his size. He more easily fit in with the rest of the pack. He had it easier, and he never let me forget it.
-----------/ III
Everything seemed normal on that day. I remember it. Just as sunset arrived, so did the pain. My left foreleg burned with such pain that can only be described as putting a limb in fire. Then I saw it: a keyhole that extended down my foremitt to an arrowed point. Others noticed it. The Eternals especially. They were nicer to me and tried to get me to come with them. I was young and stupid so I did. They treated me well enough until i figured out what they planned to do with me: sacrifice me and the three other securities so that they may get propper immortality and return home. I never saw the other three, only heard hushed whispers that we were all in the same place and that the sacrifice would be performed within the passing month. I ran away from them. Fleeing was something I was good at.
-----------/ IV
I returned home, not expecting a warm welcome, but at least safety from my sacrificial future. That was not the case. My own brother attacked me. His "traitor" brother, his "beast" of a littermate. No one did anything to stop him. Not the adults, not my parents. We fought long and hard until he tore at my eyes - which you may notice are no longer there. When I fell to unconsciousness, my mother's kind began to remove the signs of my Eternal heritage and banished me as a traitor, though I knew nothing of the "traitorous" nature of my actions. They chewed off my wings, broke off my horns, and tore at my foreleg that marked me as somehow significant to the Eternals. They left me for dead. I will never return to either kind; I will never be accepted by either kind. My mother's breed despises me simply for the blood that flows through my veins; my father's breed wants to sacrifice me for their own gains. I stayed where this horrible deed was performed against me for the longest time, but now I wander wherever my paws carry me, taking in the scents of new wind and feeling new grass beneath my paws.
Jerishe is probably my best and only friend at the moment. Of course, the image shown is what she looks like to me in my sightlessness, so it is obviously not accurate to her true appearance. Her kindness to me goes a long way and she has played a major role in my recovery so far. She seems carefree and happy on the surface but that's what eyes see. I can tell there's something brewing inside her, I just wish she'd let me in to help her.
Picture coming
Buri is my older brother and the one responsible for my eye loss. The way I see him is as a power-hungry freak of nature, blood always dripping from his gowls from fresh-kill. He tells me he doesn't remember what he did to me, but I do. We hold no trust for each other and he holds no kinship for me, having forgotten I even existed for the most part. I just wish I had forgiven him and he had forgiven me before he left.
50x50
50x50
Coming soon...
88x31
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