[O] Prison, Frigorific - 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: [O] Prison, Frigorific (/showthread.php?tid=20046) |
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Prison, Frigorific - Ashamin - 07-01-2015
Ashamin
It was possible that the Haruspex was becoming a bit of a recluse. As the moon rose, so did the dark and patched pair in the shadow of the cave they called home. Beside them, the fire of Ashamin's long tending flickered. It was close to death; with haste, the Haruspex grabbed hold of some of the tinder he'd gathered the evening before and held it to the sparking coils on his tail, tossing them toward the ashen pile as soon as they caught flame. That, he hoped, would be enough for now. Lochan yawned and stretched, circling his bonded with an eager swiftness that conveyed his energy. He had been pent up, and longed to see the outside, but the snowbanks were too high. Icicles dripped, fat and low, and covered the entrance to the cave like bars. They could have been broken with Ashamin or another unicorn's strength, Lochan could have wiggled under or between them, but their visual barrier was clear. The paint blinked, still only rising from the day's sleep. Your fault, he thought with a smile and a gentle nudge of his companion's side. Lochan stumbled and bleated, butting his head against Ashamin's knee. Already, the 'panion was growing stronger, taller, and leaner. Ashamin noted the rising buds between Lochan's ears with interest. It was a curious thing, watching a little one grow. The Haruspex felt a little like a father. At this, he nudged the cerndyr towards the meager gathering of dry grasses. He had not had a chance to store much before the frost had fallen, and he worried now for his companion's health. It was hard enough for him to find something to eat under all that snow, and he had begun to let his own hunger pale in importance. It was Lochan who he watched out for, now. The cerndyr was eager and unhesitant, and moved with shocking grace towards his meal. The dry, tan stalks poke out from betwixt his lips--one particularly long one threatened to catch a-flame when Lochan laid down beside the fire, wiggling underneath the silken sarong that Ashamin had set on the floor of the cave the night prior. "Eat your fill, little one," the young stallion encouraged. His voice was steady but he was unfocused, wandering closer towards the entrance to his cave and looking out between the columns of ice that had begun to form there. He turned his roman face back for a moment, catching his companion's three white eyes, and smiled. "The winter will be longer, still." These bars are my reminder, my barrier between begin your company with this, these articles of four: 1. The rising, waking night 2. The flame, engulfing 3. A meal, intended for a king 4. And care, for you, from me [[For Mortuus Nox, any--set in the Haruspex's Cave]] RE: Prison, Frigorific - Mortuus Nox - 07-01-2015
RE: Prison, Frigorific - Ashamin - 07-02-2015
Ashamin
It had either been the exact wrong or exact right moment for Ashamin to have turned his head; the outcome would have to be debated. But either way, a beast crashed into the barriers and shattered them, sending ice shards Ashamin's way and sliding the tips of icicles across the floor, back to where they melted beside the fire. For a moment, Ashamin did not look. He had a fear he could not quantify that he did not want to face; his back stung from the impact of the shards. Though the haruspex was thankful that he had not been blinded by that chaotic entrance, he would have liked the warning that sight afforded him. Now he had nothing but a heavy breathing that overtook the soft whistling of the wind outdoors. He felt, even from behind, as if he was being towered over. The red of the flame shone on Ashamin's gold scars, marking the walls with their light lines and drawing his gaze to flicker there. Though he dared not move his head, from the corner of his eye he could see a tall shadow, and for that, he swallowed the cold air on his tongue. But Lochan. The cerndyr's white eyes shut and Ashamin watched as the third, always open, crinkled with concentration. Softly then came the image, slipping into Ashamin's consciousness as if a note under a door. With tenderness, the bonded buck unfolded the image, and revealed what his companion saw. The flash of a vision was like a child's drawing, its lines shaky with nervousness and its rendering uncertain. But the image was, in its own way, clear. Patches of red, black, and green were scattered about and beneath the lines, but poking outside them in several places. Behind Ashamin stood a monster of a unicorn, that much was true, but nothing that he couldn't face. Nothing that, in fighting Torleik the Bloodskald, he hadn't faced before. Ashamin turned, his long tail whipping at his back, and prepared a wise and subtle smile. The beast was, in some ways, exactly as Lochan had portrayed him. Maybe slightly less, well... squiggly. Ashamin met the white eyes, caught a glimpse of the emerald, and took in the sight of the muscled and scarred form. He had expected some creature much taller, but, well, this stallion seemed to be exactly his height without those horns of his. Pushing past all trepidation, Ashamin extended his dark cheek as always, reaching to try and touch it to the other stallion's in greeting. Perhaps Ashamin was becoming somewhat introverted in this long winter, or rather returning to that state, but he wouldn't let it get to him. "Well, you certainly know how to make an entrance, don't you?" His tone was jovial, his air shaking with cold and a faint smattering of nervousness. But his black eyes were lit from the outside dim of the borealis, and in those rainbow patterns were reflections of kindness. Lochan stood by the fire but did not draw closer--Ashamin realized, suddenly and with wonder, that he could feel the young creature's movement as if it were his own. "Come in, all are welcome to the home of the Haruspex," Ashamin said, turning to confirm the sight of Lochan on all fours and beckoning the newcomer with a coil-tipped tail. "Do you come seeking shelter or wisdom?" The second question was tossed behind his back, with his head tilted up and his four white deer's hooves carrying him back towards warmth. For whatever reason, he felt he recognized this stallion and his boldness. He doubted the other one was new, doubted the other needed introduction to this cave, and was entirely and completely wrong. But, he would learn that in time, and introductions would come. For now, he stood by the fire and waited for his new company to join. One night you drew for me a picture, red black and green, and when I turned to see who stood there it was difficult to think anything but this: Where did you get the red from, little one? Was it just a random pick? A slipping, broken crayon? [[@[Mortuus Nox], any]] RE: Prison, Frigorific - Mortuus Nox - 07-02-2015
RE: Prison, Frigorific - Ashamin - 07-03-2015
Ashamin
Then, standing before this somehow (but how?) impressive creature, Ashamed saw it. That bloody tear, that red drip--the scratch of a more sinister color that had appeared in the image Lochan had gifted him with. How had he not noticed it before? The buck shook his head, horn rattling with the motion and teeth churning against each other in a slow grind. He listened with large ears pricked, even as he lowered his roman features closer to the cave floor, and took heed. So this was just another stranger then, seeking a warm place. It seemed that Ashamin's little home was becoming that for many. "The Haruspex is the seer of the Aurora Basin, my role is to commune with the God of Time and interpret all visions he presents me," Ashamin said with a heavy sigh as he walked closer towards the fire and his companion waiting there. He trained his black gaze on Lochan, furrowing his own brow as he stared at the mark on the little one's. How had he seen that blood when Ashamin himself had missed it. Wasn't he supposed to be perceptive, as a seer? And yet, it was his companion who had the keener eyes, it seemed. It occurred to him then, and belatedly, that the dark stallion must be new to the Herd. He hoped, anyway, that he was a part of a herd. How embarrassing it would be if a trespasser had slipped in under his nose, rested in his own cave... it would have been an embarrassing talk to have with his herd leads, Thranduil the sneaky-man in particular. "I am Ashamin, I was once a newcomer such as yourself. It is good to find company in cold climes," the paint said absently, and with a sigh. He wondered faintly if this other was a soldier--with those scars and the physique, he would bet on it. But perhaps not; fighters came in all shapes and sizes and often surprising ones, he was proof of that himself. He may have been dubbed the wise one but he still yearned for a warrior's life. Maybe he could find such conversation with this fellow, this dark and already bleeding, brooding sort. Or maybe he was wrong--maybe the black was a quiet, gentle soul that Ashamin had yet to know. The day that you see more than me, which, I suppose, already every, I will learn from you, and cede this crown, this wise authority. [[@[Mortuus Nox], any, A: Oh whoops, I forgot to specify! I was thinking yes? It's certainly not a dream. Dx Q: Has Mortuus picked a rank or when he joins will he just be a stallion? ]] RE: Prison, Frigorific - Mortuus Nox - 07-04-2015
RE: Prison, Frigorific - Ashamin - 07-05-2015
Ashamin
Ashamin listened with care, but he supposed, now, that was how he always listened. The other stallion had soft, sussurant tones that barely echoed in the cavern. They seemed more like whispers, to Ashamin--he had been so hesitant himself. But perhaps he was misunderstanding this stallion's quiet. Maybe it was the hush of confidence rather than uncertainty. Still, the haruspex could relate to the lost soul, Mortuus Nox. "Mortuus," he decided he would call him with a faint smile and another extension of his cheek to touch the stallion's in kindness. "A pleasure to have you here." Mortuus was more elegant, anyhow, Ashamin thought to himself with a little nod that followed his gesture. More fitting of a stallion as collected as this. The painted buck wandered, then, circling the fire and watching it dance in the almost lifeless eyes of his company. Weren't they an interesting trio, with their seven black and white eyes all trained on this flame, this warmth, this flicker of salvation? The haruspex chuckled and sidled up alongside Mortuus again, having made a full circle, with his head by the other's scarred rump and looking back out into the storm. Perhaps, for a moment, they could brave it. "You are correct, there are many other roles to take on in this herd. I am certain you will find one that is right for yourself..." Ashamin spoke, as if thinking aloud. Could he help, perhaps? Was this not his own role, to aid and advise? He let his body wander closer to the cave entrance; his nostrils stung with each inhalation of the bitter cold. Lochan trailed after him, several paces behind but still wanting to stay close. The cerndyr barely cast a glance at Mortuus. His head, poorly crowned, turned back to gaze at the darker stallion. "Would you brave the cold, for just a few moments more? There is something I would like to show you," his tone conveying the offering more than his own curiousity. There is something I would like to see for myself. [[@[Mortuus Nox], any. Sorry, no poem muse. Oh, Ashamin can help him decide! As a Haruspex part of his role is to advise members--something like helping them pick a role is definitely his jurisdiction. :)]] RE: Prison, Frigorific - Mortuus Nox - 07-05-2015
RE: Prison, Frigorific - Ashamin - 07-05-2015
Ashamin
The outside was a cold greeting, but not an unfamiliar one. Ashamin found his eyes shut instantly by the force of the wind--his hair whipped and his tail, light and airy, was lifted in a second from where it dragged on the permafrost. Sparks fluttered in the air with its motion, dancing around the flying flakes and creating anomalous images of magic where it didn't belong and didn't exist. Overhead, the sky was a bright painting. He could barely make it out, but they were there and dotted with belts of stars. He was a Haruspex now, and from what he had gathered that meant he had to be wise, and do wise things. What was wiser than reading the stars? The haruspex glanced back, seeing his companion standing at the cave entrance. He tried to call out to Mortuus, beckon him forth with a neigh, but his voice was lost to the same wind and carried off into the distance. Someone else would hear that greeting, someone else would try and heed that call to "Come, the stars can tell us of your path!" His mind was absent as he thought back to his childhood, and nights of looking upwards at his father's side. Veril would point out all the many dots of light, smiling at each as if they carried a memory for him. What do they mean, father? Ashamin had always asked, even long after knowing the answer. I don't know, Veril always said. Your mother used to read them to me, every night. Now it was Ashamin's turn to read those stars. He threw back his head, letting the merciless cold strike him where he stood, and gaze up. There was a sign to come, and one he would heed with all the respect he could muster. Will you remember the one who died so I could live? I tell you this: she exhaled a life and I inhaled that death. I will make good on that promise. [[@[Mortuus Nox], any. @[Johnny] will be doing an NPC for us shortly, so you can either wait for her or just tag her in your post!]] RE: Prison, Frigorific - NPC - 07-06-2015
RE: Prison, Frigorific - Mortuus Nox - 07-06-2015
RE: Prison, Frigorific - Ashamin - 07-09-2015
Ashamin
As he watched, the sky overhead seemed to clear and reveal to him a wealth of information. It would take time for the Haruspex to learn the subtleties of the sky, but seeing them shine so bright now in this storm was a start, to be sure. There was one star, in particular, that caught his deep black eyes. It shot across the heavens in a split second, almost missed, and when it settled in its place he couldn't help but trace the lines of the constellation around it. In its shape he saw a rearing stallion, wrapped and bearing an immortal snake that was curved in a symbol of healing. He thought of the venom that dripped so often from such fangs, and as he cast a sideways glance to Mortuus he thought, for a moment, he saw that venom in the trace of blood along his company's face. But there was more to such dripping liquids than hurt, particularly in a herd such as the Basin when one could heal, and under such great tutelage. When Ashamin lowered his face completely from the marks of light above, he turned back to see Lochan staring up with wide eyes, and realized in an instant: it had been Lochan who had flashed such clear images in his head. The little cerndyr seemed to know something of the stars, even just shortly after birth. Lochan's wisdom was one he would surely have to plunder and learn from. Ashamin blinked slowly at his companion, thought of a thank you, and turned to train his gaze on Mortuus Nox. The black beast didn't seem like a healer, no. And for a moment Ashamin wondered if the stars had been wrong or if he had misread them. But the image of the snake, wrapped with such infinite and immortal delicacy around its company, was clear. Whether this stallion would someday be a snake bearer himself, Ashamin was unsure. But he knew somewhere, deep in the well of knowledge that was rising steadily within his breast, that perhaps a life of aid would do this stallion good. "What it means," he began, taking a breath and watching as the puffs of white circled his nostrils upon exhaling, "is that the stars find your role to lie with the menders of the herd. Perhaps it will be good to lay down the life of a warrior, for a time," Ashamin said with a faint smile. He nosed towards the other stallion's flank, noting the scars that marked Mortuus' hide. Maybe the stallion would find him odd for suggesting such a fate, but he hoped that Mortuus would take and consider his word with care. He was not advising idly, and though he did not know the stallion very well he knew what the stars had said. Or at least he felt sure that he did. "I encourage you to seek out Lena, or perhaps Enna," the haruspex concluded with a nod and a turn back to the cave's warm comfort and his awaiting companion. "Both of them could advise you in the art of healing, I am sure they would welcome you," he said sagely, dipping his head towards the permafrost as it retreated into the stone floor of the cave. Ophiuchus, bearer of snakes and the immortal blood of Gods, I thank you for the kindness that your countenance receives me. [[@[Mortuus Nox], any. Thank you @[Johhny]! <3]] RE: Prison, Frigorific - Mortuus Nox - 07-10-2015
RE: Prison, Frigorific - Ashamin - 07-13-2015
Ashamin
The haruspex was not surprised that he was met with resistance. His long tail knotted loosely around itself as he picked up speed and trotted towards the fire. Its flickering was a comfort in this Frosftall evening. He waited for Mortuus to join him, watching with wide eyes that strove to take in every last bit of the light. As the dark stallion followed, Ashamin considered what the news meant to him. Mortuus was a warrior, this much had been clear even before he had admitted it, and Ashamin had just told him that a power beyond either of their control had advised he reside on the other, peaceful part of the battlefield. What would Ashamin have done himself if Thranduil had burst in now (but of course, silently) and declared that Ashamin was needed to serve as a spy? It would be a pursuit of knowledge still, but a much less moral and religious one. Ashamin took pride in his role as Haruspex and his activities as a warrior, he wouldn't want to be the sort to slink around as the golden man did. So what would he have done? Ashamin tried to cast a light smile towards his company but it quickly faded. This was not a moment for such cheerful kindness. Mortuus needed a sincerity of his own sort, the stoic kind Ashamin was not particularly used to. He coughed, lowering his face towards the flame and catching the sight of Lochan's bright white eyes. Perhaps he was hoping the creature would offer him advice: Ashamin received only a few squiggles of color in his mind. Very well, he was on his own for this one. He lifted his features, his ragged horn hanging over them with a hushed sort of dignity, and met Mortuus' gray eyes with care. "As a warrior you know better than anyone the pain that comes with battle. Perhaps the stars want you to consider what it would be like to ease it rather than cause it," Ashamin said plainly. He could tell this stallion was struggling with the idea. "As a healer, as anyone, all lives are precious. You cannot forget this, even when you fight. Wisdom would come to one who ceased the practice of harm to acknowledge this," the painted buck continued, "And perhaps virtue, as well." Would Mortuus agree? Or was he a warrior to in love with the shedding of blood to see otherwise? And if he was, did Ashamin, one who fought for honor, protection, and the pursuit of knowledge alone, really want him in his home? Consider your ignorance to have been bliss for yourself alone. Think of how many others, harmed by your inattention to detail. Consider your ignorance, It will do you no good in this home. [[@[Mortuus Nox], any.]] RE: Prison, Frigorific - Mortuus Nox - 07-14-2015
RE: Prison, Frigorific - Ashamin - 07-15-2015
Ashamin
It struck Ashamin, then, that perhaps this dark newcomer needed a bit of an education. And while the haruspex wasn't sure that anything other than his rank title gave him the qualification to provide one, he felt it to at least be his duty to guide Mortuus to proper schooling. When the aforementioned darkling spoke, Ashamin let his brow knit in gentle curiousity. Did Mortuus really think that was all healing was? Sunshine and rainbows? Maybe Ashamin was too serious of a fellow, but he considered nothing to be as simple as that, the art of healing especially. He did not know much of Lena's work but he knew it certainly had to be more than that. The fact that the only healers he had ever met were.... rather bubbly mares meant nothing for the sake of the profession. "I think you misunderestimate the seriousness of the role," Ashamin said with a frown. Lochan wove around his legs, his white eyes fixing with a surprisingly mature sense of gravity upon the countenance of the scarred beast. He turned away from Mortuus, letting the light illuminate the bright gold of his scars. "A healer saved me from the brink of death when these wounds were open. Consider the pain it cause she and I both--there is no lightness in that," Ashamin supplied soberly. It was becoming quickly clear to Ashamin, even as he spoke, that this was not his lesson to teach. Mortuus would have to learn this on his own, and the Haruspex only hoped his words would be heeded. He no longer faced Mortuus when he spoke. Not out of a lack of respect, but out of a particular interest for the mirror. It had not told him as much as he had expected--not yet. Perhaps he would spend another night gazing. "You may spend the night here and take as much shelter as you need, but morning will come sometime, Mortuus," Ashamin said over his shoulder, wandering further into the depths of his cave as he went. "When it does, seek a member of the healing class. They will tell you of the hurt they have seen and healed, and perhaps then you will reconsider the sunshine and rainbows you expect to find with such yet unfounded certainty." And with that the Haruspex let his body be carried back into shadow, the flickering flame at his back casting light on the white stones of his hooves and illuminating every fawn-spot on Lochan's aging coat. Don't deny me my memory, remember how I bled, consider how I cried for help once, help you could have given with an ounce of concentration, respect. [[@[Mortuus Nox], any. Ashamin is kind of making an exit but Mortuus can follow him if he really wants.]] |