June 13th, 2021
May 31, 2021
06/09/2021 03:59 PM
--------- If you are looking to start a story with me and dont know where to begin feel free to use this as a starter from me and reply to this. For ease of use-----------
From a time long forgotten the Island of Dragons vanished into the mist very few residents made it to the Island mostly allies of the one non dragon or mythical serpent who had the Island specifically created for them to hide; to rest away from the angry eyes of Man.
A man named Yakasha had been part of many things and in many realms across the universe and had grown tired of the mortal realm once again, but this time there was no god to send me into oblivion, and so I would find rest with my allies... no, family on the Island of Dragons. I had become more to them and they to me than I had first anticipated.
The mist would hide us keep them adrift in a place all of their own. Untouched and unreachable by man, but also it would make them rest. Sleep was an odd thing for me as it really just let me dream about the past to re live events both good and bad.
There was no need for food; myself or the beasts of the Island. The magic suffused with the Island kept such things at bay. I had other reasons for being on the Island, but all fell under the umbrella of getting away. Mant friends were lost over the course of time, but such was the curse of Immortality. No I came to the Island to also protect those that still remained in my life. The longer I remained on the mortal world the more of his abnormal power grew. I became more of my namesake and had “devoured” demonic essence.
Poweful demonic beings are more difficult to consume and cannot devour in whole, but only portions as since not being my true self since coming to the mortal plane and into a physical form. Three demons known as Prime evils had come to the land. Diablo, Maphisto, and Baal. Back then I held an allegiance to a man and his kingdom these demons had wanted it destroyed.
Many died, but the kingdom and its ruler survived. These demons beaten, and I had stolen part of their essence. It gave me powers I had never known before, but also a darker influence upon my body as it tried to disseminate or digest such powerful essence all at once. The tipping point had been Lucifer, mostly accidental and over a misunderstanding we clashed, and infused with portion of the prime evils power all rolled into one had the upper hand, and though Lucifer escaped his blood had entered my body thus granting me a small portion of Lucifer’s essence as well, and it had been too much to handle thus I turned to the island to allow time for the power to dissolve for whatever that meant now.
Time meant nothing on the Island so I did not know how long I had been there. However staying in such a land of peace and rest to such a lively person and such a chaotic being was... boring after a time so I decided to leave. Unknowing if I would ever return to the island or be able to.
Crystal blue eyes looked down to the man in his arms his body shaking and eyes closed weak from blood loss. A small bit of blood pooling on his neck. Yakasha sighed slightly. “So you see You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time.” He spoke to the man in his arms. The sound of the ocean crashing into the sand behind them. Yakasha closed his blue eyes and for a second just took in the sound and smell of the place he had come upon before turning his attention back to the man in his arms. “Since leaving the Island the hunger returned. Not that you will remember any of this tale anyway.”
Yakasha used his finger to prick his own thumb a small bubble of black almost oily blood pushed to the surface to which he smeared across the wound on the man’s neck such a small wound healed as soon as his blood smeared across it. “Forget.” He whispered to the man, and the man would forget the tale Yakasha had told him with no recollection of it in the slightest. “You got to drunk and walked the beach only to black out.” This would be the story the human man would remember not the tale nor the encounter with the monster known as Yakasha. The first and last of his kind.
Leaving the man to lay in the cool night sand Yakasha stood brushing the sand off from his dark clothes, and brushed his long silken raven black hair from his face. His blue eyes like crystal oceans surrounding endless pits of the void set deep in a powerful face peering out towards the brand-new experience, and a slight tingle of excitement ran through his body as he took the first few steps forward to new horizons.
06/02/2021 10:29 PM
-------Warning May be graphic for young audiance-----
Birth- disease came. It did not strike everyone, only half of the village i was born into. Amba was one of the first to fall ill. She Vomited blood the last two days of her life, sorrow was particularly great because Amba was eight months pregnant at the time.
When she died, it should have ended there. Her body should have been taken to the cremation ground and offered to Vishnu, her ashes thrown in the river. But recently an Aghoran priest had entered our village. He had other ideas for her body. Aghora was the left-handed path, the dark path, and no one would have listened to what the priest had to say if the panic over the plague hadn't been in the air. The priest brought his blasphemous ideas, but many listened to him because of their fears for the plague. He said the plague was the result of an evil rakshasa or demon that had taken offense at our worship of the great God Vishnu. He said the only way to free our village of the rakshasa was to call forth an even greater being, a yakshini, and implore the yakshini to eat the rakshasa.
Some thought this idea was reasonable, but many others, felt that if God couldn't protect us, how could a yakshini? Also, many of us worried what the yakshini would do once it had devoured the rakshasa. Vedic texts we knew that yakshinis had no love for human beings. But the Aghoran priest said that he could handle the yakshini, and so he was allowed to go ahead with his plans.
Aghorans usually do not invoke a deity into a statue or an altar but into the corpse of someone recently dead. It is this practice in particular that has them shunned by most religious people in India. But desperate people often forget their religion when they need it most. There were so many dead at the time, the priest had his choice of corpses. But he chose Amba's body, and I think the fact of her late pregnancy attracted him.
As the Aghoran priest with the help of six men prepared Amba's naked body. They anointed her with clarified butter and camphor and wine. Then, beside a roaring fire, seated close to Amba's upturned head, the priest began a long repetitious chant. it sounded nothing like the bajans we chanted to Vishnu. The mantras were hard on the ear, and each time the priest completed a verse, he would strike Amba's belly with a long sharp stick. It was as if he were imploring her to wake up, or else trying to wake something up inside her.
This went on for a long time, and soon Amba's belly began to bleed, which frightened the men. Because she bled as a living person, as if there were a heart beating inside her. a dark cloud went over the moon and a heavy breeze began to stir, a wind that stank of decay and waste. The smell was atrocious. It was as if a huge demon had suddenly appeared and breathed down upon the ceremony.
Something had come. As the smell worsened, and the men began to mutter aloud that they should stop, the fire abruptly shrank to red coals. Smoke filled the air, curling around the bloody glow of the embers like so many snakes over a rotting prey. Some of the men cried out in fear. But the priest laughed and chanted louder. Yet even his voice failed when Amba suddenly sat up.
She was hideous to behold. Her face dripped blood. Her eyes bulged from her head as if pushed out from the inside. Her grin widened over her teeth as if pulled by wires. Worst of all was her tongue; it stretched much longer than any human tongue could, almost a foot, curling and licking at the air like the smoking snakes that danced beside what was left of the fire. They watched it in horror knowing that a yakshini come to life. In the haunting red glow it turned to face the priest, who had fallen silent. No longer did he appear confident.
The yakshini cackled like a hyena and reached out and grabbed the priest. The priest screamed. No one came to his aid.
The yakshini pulled the priest close, until they were face to face. Then that awful tongue licked the priest's face, and the poor man's screams gagged in his throat. Because wherever he was touched by the tongue, his skin was pulled away. When the priest was a faceless mass of gore, the yakshini threw its head back and laughed. Then its hands flew up behind the priest's neck and took hold of his skull. With one powerful yank it twisted the priest's head around until it was
facing the other way, his bones cracking. The priest fell over dead as the yakshini released him. Then the monster, still seated, glanced around the campfire at the terrified men. A sly glance it was. The eyes came to glance upon a small girl who had been hiding off to the woods watching the ritual in secret.
Then finally, thankfully, the monster closed its eyes, and Amba's body lay back down. For a long moment none of the men moved. Then the girls father -a brave man, although not the wisest-- moved and knelt beside Amba's corpse. He poked it with a stick and it did not move. He poked the priest as well, but it was clear the man wasn't going to be performing any more ceremonies in this life. The other men came up beside the man. There was talk of cremating both of the bodies then and there. Unfortunately, before more wood could be gathered, The man noticed movement inside Amba's belly. He cried out to the others. Amba was not dead. Or if she was, he said, her child was not. He reached for a knife to cut the infant out of Amba's womb.
-from the girls perspective.
It was then I jumped from behind the boulder and ran into the clearing.
"Father!" I cried, reaching for his hand holding the knife. "Do not let that child come into this world. Amba is dead, see with your own eyes. Her child must likewise be dead. Please, Father, listen to me."
Naturally, all the men were surprised to see me, never mind hear what I had to say. My father was angry at me, but he knelt and spoke to me patiently.
"Sita," he said. "Your friend does appear dead, and we were wrong to let this priest use her body in this way. But he has paid for his evil karma with his own life. But we would be creating evil karma of our own if we do not try to save the life of this child. You remember when Sashi was born, how her mother died before she came into the world? It sometimes happens that a living child is born to a dead woman."
"No," I protested. "That was different. Sashi was born just as his mother died. Amba has been dead since early dawn. Nothing living can come out of her."
My father gestured with his knife to the squirming life inside Amba's bloody abdomen. "Then how do you explain the life here?"
"That is the yashini moving inside her," I said. "You saw how the demon smiled at us before it departed. It intends to trick us. It is not gone. It has entered into the child."
My father pondered my words with a grave expression. He knew I was intelligent for my age and occasionally asked for my advice. He looked to the other men for guidance, but they were evenly divided. Some wanted to use the knife to stab the life moving inside Amba. Others were afraid, like my father, of committing a sin. Finally my father turned back to me and handed me the knife.
"You knew Amba better than any of us," he said. "You would best know if this life that moves inside her is evil or good. If you know for sure in your heart that it is evil, then strike it dead. None of the men here will blame you for the act."
I was appalled. I was still a child and my father was asking me to commit an atrocious act. But my father was wiser than I had taken him for. He shook his head as I stared at him in amazement, and took back the knife.
"You see," he said. "You are not sure if what you say is true. In a matter of life and death, we must be careful. And if we are to make an error, it must be on the side of life. If this child turns out to be evil, then we will know as it grows up. Then we will have more time to decide what should be done with it." He turned back to Amba's body. "For now I must try to save it."
"We may not have as much time as you think," I said as my father began to cut into Amba's flesh. Soon he held a bloody male infant in his hand. He gave it a gentle spank, and it sucked in a dry rasping breath and began to cry. Most of the men smiled and applauded, although I noticed the fear in their eyes. My father turned to me and asked me to hold it. I refused. However, I did consent to name the child.
"It should be called Yaksha," I said. "For it has the heart of a yakshini."
And the child's name was as I said. Most considered it an evil omen, yet none of them, in their darkest dreams, would realize how appropriate the name would be. But from that time on, the plague vanished and never returned
Thus I was born. Yakasha..
-Clip from The last Vampire.
06/02/2021 06:44 PM
Past experiences and growth
This will be a summary of past adventures and what has been added to him beyond basics he started with. I have had this character since Myspace. So this will be an expanse to powers and maybe even insight to more persona.
Time, space, realms. All are fluid after a while of experience so falling through a wormhole back to another time or an offshoot would not be surprising as it has happened many times in the past.
Beng the incarnation of Yakshini an eater of monsters and demons. I had adventures and jobs of removing demons from areas or people (Though mostly I fed on the people and it killed them since they were not possessed anyway, but that is neither here nor there.) Demons or demonic powers have little to no effect upon me. At one point and time I held in my possession a sword that contained a portion of the essences of three primal evils. Diablo Maphisto, and Baal. Along with many other demons, and one Sammāʾēl or otherwise known as Lucifer. Though this blade was destroyed in battle of celestial import I may one day find I still hold some essence of the powers bestowed upon me through it.
Having more in common with snakes than any other creature. There were ample opportunities to learn to communicate or even lord over serpentine creatures. Through some adventures at one point, I was given command over an ariel brigade and tasked with filling its ranks. Given the mystical nature of the time and era. Dragons were an obvious choice, and thus I learned to not only speak their language but understand them. Wild drakes full of rage and hunger I learned to calm and ease their anguish, and made many both friend and ally of many dragons. At the end of this era an Island was formed where they could rest and feel safe. The isle of Dragons not a clever name but was accurate, but it held more than dragons, but mostly serpent creatures both of nature and magic.
The island eventually needed to be safeguarded and this a shroud of magical mist was created to hide it from prying eyes and hostility. A place of rest and peace. Resplendent in its magic the Dragons were safe to rest, and so was I. This is where I have been for an untold time only to now emerge from the mist to see what new adventures may await in these new times.
06/02/2021 04:54 PM
Enhanced senses/reflexes. Hear a dry twig snap from three miles away. Clearly see craters on the moon without aid. Jump high enugh that it looks like flying. Cross a room before a bullet fired.
-Regeneration. Deep wounds can heal in minuets. Within a day can regenerate lost limbs.
-Survive sub artic temperatures naked. Though prefers warmer climates.
-Vampiric compulsion. Can have you not only have you answer questions, but can place desires. Place you in a dreamscape. Dangerous: Delicate care must be maintained when pressing a mind. Can cause damage ranging from memory loss to catatonic state. Brain dead or death are possible as well.
1 Simlar to hypnosis or a Siren song. Can manipulate a person to move or think they have done something similar to moving. Example. Through music causing a person to Jump froma window, but think they fell.
2Pathokinesis(specifically through music and/orsound)- Defiinition: ne with this ability could psychically induce happiness, sadness, anger, fear, anxiety, disgust, love or any number of other emotional states, at will. In addition, one could psychically amplify the subject's current emotions, at will. Furthermore, one could psychically alter a subject's emotional stability (ie mood swings, incongruous emotional responses), at will. One could also psychically suppress, prevent or negate any given emotion, at will.
Specific song. The song of Life.
First note: The root of the body. Base of the spine. The building blocks of the entire body. This note not only beings the song but weakens the body and mind to influence.
Second Note: The second center of the body The sex center. When the energy flows here there are two states of mind. Intense creativity when the energy is up, intense lust when it goes down.
Third note: Effects the Third center of the body. The Navel, which vibrates different emotions. The Navel is the seat of Jealousy and Attachment, and of joy and generosity. Example of feeling: You feel that as if everything you had called yours had been stripped away or Smile and want to give something to someone around you.
Fourth note: This effects the heart. In the hearts there are three emotions. Love, Fear, and Hate. You can only have one of these at a time. When you are in love you can know no fear or hate. When fearful there is no possibility of love or hate. And when there was hate.. there is only hate.
Fifth note: Fifth center of the body; The Throat. Two emotions reside here. Sorrow and gratitude. Both bring tears. One bitter; The other sweet.
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