'The Wily Fox'

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March 27th, 2024

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Gender: Male
Age: 118
Sign: Aquarius
Country: Belarus

Signup Date:
March 06, 2018

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09/25/2022 05:34 PM 

Born in the dawn... to pass in the twilight

Born in the dark... to pass in the twilight

Halloween 3 Wishes group sl

Att: Everyone in the Haunted house!!






 Freedom!
It means many different things, to different people. It isn't just status or a right. - It is more than that!... It always will be! 
Most of us go about our daily lives, free to come or go where we please... Free to make our own choices...Unaware we are still slaves but to the modern world... Our jobs, Our debts, and the burdens, we, as adults commit ourselves to in a bid to be seen as respectable- Getting ahead or doing well in life. And one of the worst of the modern slave masters is stress!
Day-to-day stress!
Whether it's money- Struggling to simply survive beneath a greedy inflation rate- Or time - Not enough hours in a day to get everything done, that is expected of you, at work or at home... Loving, caring, or simply being with your loved ones...
We take our freedom for granted, never really understanding what it truly feels like to be free ... Never really understanding it is the simple moments that come in between living...

-------------------------

 


Hooves churned in a steady beat to match the pounding of his heart, as the ground beneath him and his steed swept past in a haze of distant memories...Together they moved in sync becoming one with the air. The wind rushed past, caressing his face, tugging in an urgence, at the edges of the cowl of his cloak and pulling it asunder to flay out around them in a dance of freedom...
It felt almost as if he flying... It was one of the only times he ever felt truly free...
The soft snorting of the horse's breath, the way its flanks moved beneath him. The way the earth pounded beneath its hooves as they charged ever forward evading the world that silently chased behind them and with its strange metal dragons or turrets of water that sprouted randomly from within the ground to soak the grass green.

It did not matter to him at that moment that he had no inkling of the fate which had befallen the Dark Knights Loslorie, or that of Pope Sardian... it did not if their God looked down upon him casting him asunder for the sin of his birthright! God would have to catch him first! And there would always be time for flagellation later!
Now, there was only one thing he was curious about... One thing he wished to discover! Who? Or what were the Mikalsons of this strange world that the farmer had spoken of? For it had not escaped his attention that here, wherever this was... the mythical, the magical, the monsters of nightmares held dominion!
They moved, running freely from door to door. Their hunger, sated by those held within their lavishly adorned homes: free to take or spare a life as they, so choose!... Pope Sardian would say God had forsaken this place... but he was wrong!  God had not forsaken it...

God had fled in fear, long ago!

Begrudgingly, Lancelot lightly pulled upon the horse's reins; pressing his knees in unison against the horse's flanks to slow its gait. This new world about him, was like no other he could have ever imagined. And for the first time since he was a child, he found himself inquisitively drawn to its unfathomable possibilities. Could he... would he fit in here? Was this the repentance he had been searching for his whole life, was this home?

Impulsively he pressed his left knee, into the horse's flank,  gently turning the horse to follow a constant stream of people who entered and exited through the gates to a large property, a strange castle shrouded by trees upon a hill. Was this where he would find the Mikaelson? Was this where they ruled and held their dominion from?
The scream echoing down the winding path from ahead, forbode that he should be alert... that he should possibly fear the formidable mansion cast into a derelict state of disrepair ahead; yet the laughter, the smiles upon the faces of all he passed exiting the property said otherwise?

Confronted by confusion, he pulled on the reins and halted his horse to a standstill; as he watched the many patrons, the monsters, the ghouls, the scantly clad fairies, and the misfit creatures he had no inkling of, pass. He was no fool to danger. He was the weeping monk! A name in itself to induce fear, within his own domain. A name to make even the righteous doubt their own moral standing when they stood before him... For he had slain more of his own kind than he could remember, in service of the Dark Knights Loslorie and their God!

Silently he turned the horse, urging it into the cover of trees which bordered both sides of the winding path to the castle, and dismounted. Until he knew exactly what he faced...Whatever it was, that a Mikaelson was... and the moral compass of their heart.. . He had to tread carefully. He had to blend in, to be aware of everything around him and everyone! He had to be willing to defend himself at any given moment... 

Quickly he pulled the nag's reigns across its head, loosely tying them to a low-lying branch. If all would go astray, he needed an exit! An escape that would see him to safety, to freedom faster than he himself could run.
Slowly he turned, taking a deep breath.  His right hand reached beneath the folds of his cloak to grasp upon the helm of his sword and he exhaled to the blade's song; announcing its freedom as he pulled it from its scabbard. tentatively he brought the blade before him, grasping its helm with both hands and raising it, before he set off, slowly stalking through the cover of the trees towards the eerily haunted-looking castle upon the hill.

He wasn't sure how long he had stood in the shadows of the trees waiting... Watching as the people, the creatures entered, He wasn't sure how many screams or high-pitched shrills of laughter he had heard echo out from within its darkened window panes before he saw some of whom had entered walk around the side of the house departing from another possible entrance at the rear of the building.  And within that time, he was still no closer to knowing, to understanding if the castle, the house that stood before him was a cause for pleasure or pain!
There was no choice for it! if he wanted the answer's he sought, he would have to enter it! He would have to search its depths for a sign ... a clue of a fabled Mikaelson! 

'... Kol Mikaelson... '
That had been the name, he had waged war with, a name he had fought to gain control of his body over! he had to be careful, had he unwittingly sent one of the very creatures he hoped to gain answers from, into the depths of darkness?

Trepidly he lowered his head, letting the cowl of his cloak cast his face into darkness, and stepped out from the cover of the trees; making his way to the entrance of the house. The metal dragons, of red and white, the multitude of glowing eyes in hues of reds and blues they did little... they did not even flinch as he passed silently by. Were they waiting, waiting for orders from an unseen master before they launched their attack? or were they simply guarding this possible Mikaelson fortress-like placid pets... it was something he wished not to ponder as swiftly, he pushed passed other patrons to bound the front steps in twos and enter into the looming dark entrance of the building.

It was darker inside than he could have imagined. The dull red and green-lit rooms branching off from a narrow claustrophobic hallway gave very light for one to see their way comfortably... Apprehensively he paused giving a moment to glance into each of the rooms where people had gathered giggling or hugging each other in the excitement of a strange apprehensive fear. 
They seemed to enjoy it!
The feeling of fear, to hear one's heartbeat racing, pounding with adrenalin as they drew breath. It wasn't natural. It was not normal... It was as if strange magic had grasped hold of their souls, their minds, compelling them to embrace what they should otherwise dread and fear!
Slowly he stepped forward intent on creeping deeper into the house when suddenly he felt a swift firm grasp upon his back, and a roar of attack upon his ears.
Instantly he stumbled forward, fastening the grip upon the helm of his sword as he brought it up before him and pulled free of his oppressor's grasp. Swiftly he pivoted upon the ball of his left foot, to face his oppressor and impulsively stepped forward lunging upon his right knee l, his shoulders leaned into the lunge and extended his arms; thrusting the blade with force out before him into the chest of the roaring ghoul before it could retreat!

Instantly the ghoul's gleeful roar was replaced with windless a gasp of suprise.  Was it shock, he saw written in its eyes as it glanced down at his blade embedded in its chest.  One thing he was sure of, was the fear... fear of its imminent death as it reached out with its dying breath trying to pull itself free of his blood-soaked blade fore collapsing forward to rest against his shoulder.
Suddenly roars of cheering, squeals of terror, laughter, and clapping broke out around him. He had forgotten about the other patrons in the first two rooms, yet here they stood gathered around, acting like they thought it was some sort of twisted plot in a play, A show simply put on by two thespians in reward for their amusement... It did little to ease his confusion!

Perturbed, he reached up grasping hold of the dead ghoul's shoulders swiftly pushing, dragging him back into the narrow doorway he had appeared from out of before releasing him to yank his blade free. The room was small, smaller than anything he had ever seen, holding only a broom and a couple of empty pails. Carefully the weeping monk leaned the ghoul's dead body against the corner of the room before stepping back and closing the door upon it.

In this place... this strange castle, no matter how weird or fearful it seemed, he knew it would do him no favors to leave the dead, those who had felt the sting of his blade to the chance of discovery... lest he, himself, became the hunted of this realm and not the hunter of the Mikaelsons!....

 






















 

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