County Court - Pallisades, California
First Judicial Circuit
Municipal Division

City of Pallisades, CA (Plaintiff)  vs.  Lokii Violet (Defendant)

Count: Felonious Assault, Breaking & Entering, Arson, Larceny, Trafficking (Munitions), Possession With Intent To Sell, Grand Theft Auto, Harboring A Fugitive

"And how do you plead?"

"Guilty, motherfucker. And I'd do it all over again."

____________________________________________________


"God Module; good band, good band. Tellin' you, you want the story about me? Tune your ears into the track "The Source" and you got all the info you want, short and sweet, none of this strawberry-and-cream coated bullshit everyone tries to feed you. There's your first problem. Everything's padded down, politically correct, child proofed, tamper proofed and generally one big fucking buzzkill. That's where I come in. Sit the fuck down and just shut up; listen. You can do that right without any supervision? Great, then I won't have to hit you. My probation officer's a real bitch and y'know I'm like a day or two from being in the clear again."

"You're not normal, I could've figured that just by the eyes; none of that cosmetic crap does that fancy little sparkle, and there's no use trying to use that ol'e mind invasion shit; I'll give you a migraine in more ways than one, and trust me honey - I'm not opposed to wasting fifty three cents on a bullet right between your eyes. But I digress--back to the topic. I'm just a myth, or so others of the tribes believe. The Bastet are a curious line of folk; the Twilight tribes--all nine of them carry their own prides and stigmas. The insipid nonsense of the Dark Ages and Inquisition drove my tribe into hiding, if we weren't burnt at the stake, stretched, guillotined and all those other crispy and squishy ways to expire.

We faded into memory, where they thought we'd only be. That was their first mistake - it kept us alive. We changed faces, changed our ways and spread to the crosswinds adapting and enveloping ourselves in different cultures and heritages. None of the wild cousins are pure anymore, just one melting pot of provincial fuckups and degenerate bastards dancing our way over the Bitch Mother's sullen face. That's the earth in laymen's terms for you. And no, I'm not one of my stereotypical nature loving ones. I took the darker path; everything has a yin and yang, and baby lemme tell you - it's always more fun on the darker side. And they usually *do* have cookies.

Cahlash's whispers and beckon call was my call to arms, and further into my own personal madness. It's like cramming an entire packed stadium at full blast into your cranium and stuck on repeat - all these different sounds, all these notions, these ideas... urges. It mkes the Rage that builds in all of us shifters all the more sweeter to cave to, like some long lost lover; pure and ravenous and always hungry for more..

And so I danced... right into that Spiral Hive. Father Wyrm's promises were much more fulfilling than Gaia could have ever offered; I was already on the path with my ways, I just didn't have the proper direction, and I haven't looked back since."


"Lover. Fighter. Degenerate. Neurotic. Mildly Insane. Crowd-Pleaser. Deviant. Hedonist. Sinner. Saint. Uncensored. Unrepentant. Vitriol-Veined. Temptress. Diva. Chaste. Impure. Virtuous. Harlot. I'm the Cheshire's Chosen; I'll rip the laughter from you and take you screaming into my Wonderland. Fuck with Mine and you've come to know Hell. I'm everything and nothing, a riddle wrapped in an enigma with a sprinkling of cyanide. I am. Simply Me. And you, I'm afraid must say goodbye now; don't worry. I have a Corax friend that would just love your eyes.."  *gunshot*

 

____________________________________________________

 

Race: Bastet Werecat - Ceilican Tribe (Fallen Hispath Spiral Cat)

Nature: Eye of the Storm/Enigma; unpredictable at best.

Pyrio: Twilight - always shifting personalities and demeanors.

Abilities: Spirit-talker, Shadowland/Umbra Travel, Bastet Sorcery & Illusions, Mechanics (motorcycles), Firearms & Explosives

Last Known Affiliation: Dreadshift.

 

Descendant of the assumed mythic cats that bred with the fae of the Arcadia Courts, there is no rhyme or reason with Lokii; it simply is as seen, a riddle wrapped in an enigma with a tangible aura of corruption she longer deems fit to hide.

Once one of Selene's guardians of the nine Twilight Tribes, she fell from the favor of Gaia somewhere between one of the yearly persona transformations on Samhain and never seemed to bleed out of it, rather regress back through previous incarnations of her former selves. It's said that the whispers of the Unmaker come to claim the cats when they fall to the wayside of their righteous path of the lunar Mother. Lokii was no exception to this rule, as night by night the culling whispers and temptations of Cahlash pulled her farther from her already shifting stance on terra firma to the Wyrm's coils and straight into a Spiral Hive.

She never looked back.. only to embrace the madness that would follow each waking night and every dance further into the spiral rings of the labyrinth. Lunes and other spiritual consorts were phased out for banes and spectres of the restless wraith communities of the shadow realms. Gifts and other inherent abilities were doubled by more corrupt and warped forms of terror and destruction in homd and crinos form alike - all for the price of sanity. Marked by Relshab - the Eater of Souls and one of the more foul Incarnae faces of the Wyrm. Just another puppet on a string... but we all know what happens when kittens get tangled up - all hell breaks loose. It's just a matter of time, and determined to drag her werewolf counterpart Cache down into the Pit right with her.

---

Page last updated Jun-29-2010 12:00 AM by Lokii Violet