Statuesque [Open] - Printable Version +- HELOVIA || The Way to the Sun (http://helovia.com) +-- Forum: Out of Character (http://helovia.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=1) +--- Forum: Archives (http://helovia.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=11) +--- Thread: Statuesque [Open] (/showthread.php?tid=1165) |
Statuesque [Open] - Official - 08-12-2012 Ambrose February 26th, 2012 at 9:06pm A black silhouette stood out amongst the shrouding fog, statuesque as he mutely gazed out across the boisterous ocean. Emerald tendrils of grass swayed in the breeze at his feet, lightly caressing his thick legs. His ebony encolure rippled as the wind tugged on it lightly, sending the course piluses airborne. Below him the ocean thrashed angrily, crashing into the rocky cliff side and roaring in its timeless voice. He arched his thick neck, glancing down at the surging waters many feet below - a sheer drop to the ocean. A single careless misstep, and one would surely plummet to their death. It was early in the morning. The sun had not yet fully risen in the sky, it's igneous light painting a thin golden line along the horizon and setting the lower portion of the sky ablaze with an array of vibrant colors. Miniscule points of light remained in the darker divisions of the sky, and the moon was concealed by a horde of thick, gray clouds. Ambrose glanced out stoically across the restless tides, deep in thought. This place was now his home, he thought as puffs of smoke curled from his nostrils ceremoniously when he breathed. Suddenly, the soft thud of hooves against grass came into earshot and one of Ambrose's lobed ears shot backwards. He stepped away from the ledge, then pivoted on his hind leg halfway, neck curved to the right as he looked toward the enveloping haze. He snorted, silver eyes searching for a figure in the mist. "Who's there." His deep, masculine voice rumbled in his chest, the fog slightly amplifying his vocalism. His leonine tail swatted the air behind his obsidian physique as he awaited the stranger to reveal themselves. Psyche February 27th, 2012 at 9:00pm She is here again, the fog enclosing her like a thick, wet net. His scent still lingers here - the smell of fire. Hackles raised, the dark mare slithers through the forest, hating the memories which bloomed against her skull. She was weak that night - why couldn't she have finished the job and left this wretched land? Ears pinned, the mare charges forward recklessly, piercing the mist like a dark bullet. Her hooves clack loudly against the stone as she parts from the forest, leaving a careless trail of moss and pine needles. From what vague glow she could discern from the sickly yellow of the sky, the jackal heart can tell it is dawn. It reflects on her damp coat on pastel oranges and pinks, its shininess uncharacteristic for her thick winter pelt. Lean muscles ripple underneath the wooly coat, unaccustomed to the hard surface which she traveled on, hooves clattering noisily on the stone. The ledge comes up fast and the dark mare scrambles sideways, sending chips of rock raining down over the cliff. She continues forward, angling herself further inland to avoid any incident. The calm sway of the ocean lulls her into foolishness, but she is not fooled yet. Her pace slows into an animated walk, head held high and ears alert for any life. This is the unicorn herdland, if she understood correctly. If she is lucky, there will be another Plague recruit. Her blood buzzes with excitement. It grows before her eyes, this little project, like a newborn and she cannot help but be proud of her efforts. Her ears tilt forward when the dark silhouette of a black unicorn loom up in the distance. A smile breaks on her face like a lovely disease, alluring and dangerous. She stops far enough from him where the swaths of mist keep her shrouded by mystery, but close enough to hear her clear, feminine voice. "Alone, darling?" Ambrose February 27th, 2012 at 9:46pm For a moment the black stallion wondered if the sound had merely been a figment of his imagination. His mind was playing tricks on him, or perhaps the sound had been the wanderings of a deer, or some other feral animal. Snorting, he began to shift his weight, ready to turn back around, when the feminine purr of mare's voice entered his ears. Alone darling? Squinting, he searched for her figure in the blinding haze, his gaze falling upon nothing but the obscuring fog that encompassed him. He wondered why some found it so amusing to play these games. Ambrose, for one, found it rather tedious. Another snort rushed urgently from his flared nostrils, before he parted his ragged lips, his deep, husky voice calling out into the concealing vapor: "Reveal yourself, mare. I don't wish to play such games." He stood still, now, silver eyes actively surveying the area around him and dissecting the haze in search of where she lingered. Psyche February 28th, 2012 at 7:11am The stallion notices her, she smiles something marvelous and begins circling him with careful footsteps. Her dark coat feels like a prison, heavy with mist and water, tugging her towards the ground. Pausing, the mare lifts her chin, listening to the deep, masculine rumble of the stallion before her, so lovingly enveloped in the shrouding in mist. "Tell me, kitten, do you like secrets?" The mare asks, flicking her tail, mist displacing as the razor-sharp strands slice through it. She laughs, thinking he'd like to join her cause. He must. And the black mare draws closer, amber eyes narrowed in concentration, when she is sure that he can only see the faintest hint of darkness through the vapor, she stops squarely, lowering her head like a predator. "If I did that, there wouldn't be any fun, hm?" she responds; Psyche finds him strange, but she sees he is going to follow her little play. Ambrose March 3rd, 2012 at 4:47pm She decided to remain hidden in the enveloping haze, out of sight, yet still within earshot. Ambrose still searched for her, his convex head following the soft thud of her hooves as she encircled him. His ears perked forward alertly as her voice vibrated through the air. Do you like secrets? He stood motionless, indifferent. A stoic expression seized his features. He wasn't intent on playing along with her game. His eyes had begun to transform colors ever slightly, showing the faintest hint of black within their pupiless, silver contours. Then, a vague outline of her figure assembled in the enshrouding fog. Ambrose's brow furrowed as she spoke, ears positioned back a bit on the zenith of his head. Yet another muffled snort rushed from his nostrils. "State your business, or leave me alone. I have no interest in cowards who hide among the mist." He said, his voice firm and to the point. He found this mare somewhat irritating. His tail flicked threateningly at his hocks as he watched her. Psyche March 6th, 2012 at 7:21pm His annoyance only fuels her giddiness, spreading through her spry limbs like the bite of arctic water. Excitedly, the mist swirls in swaths along her sleek black body, purring against it like a happy cat. He is not the fun kind, she can tell, just like her proud daddy. Tail lashing easily along her haunch, she stalls for a moment, disappearing from view and enveloped in the safe womb of vapor. With a dramatic flourish, the mare appears before the stallion, all wild eyes and clinging mist to shiny black hide. The stallion before her is tall and (surprises?) black in color. He bears a profile of noble convexity with blackening silver eyes. She tilts her head in interest, the amber of her own pair studying the strange horned male before her. His brash words are lost on her ears and she chooses to smile, eyes narrow with suspicion. Psyche. Leader of the Plague - and what are you doing here, ravishing black knight, concealed in such a manner?, she says calmly, a hint of teasing in her collected voice. Ambrose March 7th, 2012 at 10:21pm Beads of moisture clung to his ebony hide, making it feel heavy as he stood unmoving, pupiless eyes straining to see her as a faint silhouette assembled in the blinding haze. Soon enough, her entire figure emerged, wisps of mist parting as she proceeded toward Ambrose. She presented herself as Psyche. The dark stallion hoisted his head somewhat higher into the air, peering critically into her pools of liquid amber. "My name is Ambrose." He replied, convex head tilted ever slightly as he scrutinized her physique, drinking in her appearance. A leader, she called herself. He would not have guessed upon first glance. A concise moment of silence slunk by as Ambrose mused over the words she had spoken. "Just thinking." He responded simply to her inquiry, his husky, masculine voice characteristically stoical as the words poured from his charcoal lips. He wasn't exactly feeling very social at the moment. He still studied her, though not obnoxiously. His argent gaze fell upon the colorful feathers that clung to her mane, then shifted to her intriguing barbed horn. "And you?" He added, his words actually accommodating a hint of inquisitiveness. He wasn't entirely sure how he felt about this mare, yet. Psyche March 9th, 2012 at 7:14am The black stallion studies her with strange pupiless eyes. His name is Ambrose, an effeminate name for such a tall warrior? Psyche laughs inside, wondering what kind of crackpot world she lived in where cliffs lurk in the mist and strongmen are named like flowers. She nods, face oblivious to the tumult inside. He replies to her question. Just thinking? A wry smile snakes onto her lovely face. I didn't take you as an intellectual, the mare says casually, flicking her head, feathers rustling like an omen. Ambrose studies her further and she snorts softly. I ain't some kind of science experiment, the dark mare thinks, squinting daringly at the stallion. It is his turn to ask. Well, I live here, she replies, shrugging and tossing the broad friesian head. After a few moments of contemplation, she slips from her position before him, looking back if he is following. Carefully, Psyche makes her way to the edge, pausing when the push of water is stronger and she feels the earth fall down and the emptiness in her breast with follows. Assuming he is beside her, she begins, You live here?, she asks, flicking an ear in his direction and watching the ocean, shrouded as if recently dead and awaiting burial, mesmerized by the waves and the ever-shifting mist. |