serpentine horizon (in progress)

[wroughtandtempered]

EVE

Team
Snail

Age
19

Height
3'11" / 5'9"

Objectives ✧ Start conversations
✧ Reluctant honesty
✧ Restraining others
✧ Invite physical contact
✧ Teamwork

Taboos ✧ Submission
✧ Using venom
✧ Avoiding non-violent physical contact

Notes Barks more than she bites, but the bite is worse.

OOC INFO

Character Canon
OU, "Unlucky Creatures"

Player Name
Opal

Player Contact
opalinesque | Opalinesque#1235

Additional Notes Shapeshifter; she can shift fully or partly into a large bush viper/wolf mashup that looks a little like this (the 3'11" is at the shoulder :3c she beeg). Face is more like this. No matter what shape she's in, she has clawmarks across her face and bitemarks from something big and carnivorous on the side/back of her neck (lots of other scars too, but those are the most visible).

Pings: magically a fucking mess. Elementally affiliated with metal, but her magic is also that of two very different species of critter mangled together in the magical equivalent of some pretty nasty body horror, with a thread of something faintly eldritch (in the "this should NOT exist" sense) wound in and keeping it from falling apart. it's gross!

ALSO: let me know if you want to opt out of anything sexual while she's not mostly human-shaped, I know not everyone's a monsterfucker. For futher opt-outs, she does have trauma associated with sexual vulnerability (but not abuse) in her background; it's unlikely to come up but please let me know if you would like to for sure avoid!

Basic Permissions Backtagging: Yes
Threadjacking: Maybe
Shipping: Yes
Smut: Yes
Violence: Yes
Killing: Maybe

Additional Permissions Please no outright noncon! Dubcon is potentially fine, just communicate with me. No lovingly detailed fingernail/eyeball/tongue trauma please (glossed over is fine).

based on a code by 10billionghosts

Comments

memories

[wroughtandtempered]

take your medicine

[wroughtandtempered]

[

everything is very far away.

the cramp in your jaw, from the muzzle they forced on you. the aching pressure against your venom glands from the thing they forced into your mouth. the nausea from the drugs they forced into you. your unresponsive magic. your unresponsive body.

they talk above your head like you aren't there. you aren't, really. the sounds slide through your ears without catching on anything. they mean nothing to you—

except that there are people there. and you hate them. you hate them. you hate them. if you could just— reach. touch that hate. kindle your anger enough to burn through the weight, the distance—

but the thought, the feeling, slips from your grasp almost as soon as you have them and it all

falls

into

the dark. ]