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[O] Red Trees - Printable Version

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Red Trees - Cortana - 05-19-2016

And out of fire

and Ice




I had grown, my skin had stretched and molded, muscle filling out some of the lankiness of my young body. My hair, already taking after my wretched mother, had begun to fall on my neck, my tail reaching my hawks. I could feel it grow too, the hunger, it was unending forever, always. My stomach would fill, but the taste, oh the sweet, succulent linger that the blood of the innocent left on my tongue--well it was enough to drive anyone crazy. 

And me? Well I am crazy, I am the epitome of the darkness, I am a monster, and I am proud. I do not care for the world's mechanics like so many others, I have no strings that tie me down to the pathetic soils of this world. I live through the metallic blood of the deserving and the un, and quite frankly, not even God could save my from the devil's clutches.  

I had left the side of the broken piece that my mother was, she only kept me from embracing who I am, who I was born to be. I hated her for that, I always will. She was a waste of a mother. 

My stomach's complaints reminded me that it had been awhile since I had last eaten, my mouth prepared for the rich flavor of the thick liquid. I was ready for my body to reach maturity, hating the sluggish and lack of coordination that it gave me. No one could take over the world with a weak body, yes the mind could take me places, but physical power was always necessary. 

I let my body blend into the dark woods as best as possible. I had taken a great liking to this place-- along with the creatures that lurked in the night. Luckily for me, my small nostrils had gathered the scent of fresh blood, fresh and alluring death. Quickly, I let the grace of my entrancing, young, uneven steps, take me to the scene. I did not wait, did not care to see if another was watching. Fear me they could, fear me they would, and I will bask in the fountain of their terrors. 

My teeth sunk into the young doe, her eyes still barely lit with life, filled with alarm as I watched with great pleasure as her blood filled my mouth and her soul leaked from her windows. It was always my favorite part, when I caught them just before the reaper had stolen their last breath. The reaper and I worked hand and hand, I finished them off and he collected his treasure. It was a twisted, beautiful work I had created.


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OCC: first olderish Cor post. I'm so bad at playing young horses, so um sorry? but yay!   



A monster is born

image credits


@Enyo @Prometheus


RE: Red Trees - Larue - 05-24-2016

Larue
She had wandered from her dam’s side. Mother was sweet. Mother was kind. Mother was safe. Mother sang lilting melodies that were pretty and soft and gentle.

In short, mother was boring.

So the little lemony filly wandered, bright eyes round and taking in all of the world. It was so alive, so full of possible trouble and dangers; a jagged rock here and rabbit’s hole there… it was incredible. She loved it. Furry ears perked and swiveled as her long and gangly legs walked a meandering pace following the swinging of her head. Nostrils flared; but it was really her ears and eyes that gave her information about the world. Her scent and taste weren’t that useful, even mother’s rich milk was beginning to lose its sweetness.

Perhaps it was the tartness of her coat; her own body needed a relief from such sourness and so her taste and smell faded. Whatever it was, she didn’t really care. She just relied more on her eyes and ears.

Aquamarine eyes widened even further as the trees grew larger and the forest grew darker. The smallest inkling of apprehension (truly it was fear, but this little filly wouldn’t admit to that) niggled in her small belly. Her steps grew a little less sure— that was until she saw it.

She saw a mare, dark as night and brushed with violet. And blood, bright and red and steaming, spilled around her muzzle that latched onto the deer’s throat. Interest immediately replaced fear, and gangly strides sped up as she approached the bloodthirsty unicorn. “Hey!” her pert, youthful voice rang clearly in the silent forest, “Hey! What’re you doin’?” Perked ears, bright eyes, and the smallest of smirks greeted the older, darker filly.
image | bckg

@Cortana LEMON BABY INCOMING


RE: Red Trees - Cortana - 06-05-2016

And out of fire

and Ice







I was lost in the taste of blood, it was such a great creation, each death I claimed had another taste, a different balance between tangy and sweetness. I had started to notice that the younger victims tasted sweeter, but the older creatures had more of a metallic taste to them. It seemed to me that life made people sour, how unfortunate was that! Mom sure did taste sour, bitter even, I could get why. She always had such a problem with her, it was the reason why I left--not that she cared, not that I care either. I don't really care about anything, I just care about me. It was a pretty easy way of living, and I figured that I would live the rest of my childhood and adulthood this way, less for me to worry about.


My meal is interrupted by another, my ears twisted to the sound of a feminine young voice, much like mine used to be. My voice had changed recently as I was beginning to grow older, it still held the annoying pitches of the young, but it was slowly getting smoother and silkier, like my slut of mother's. At least she had a good voice for me to inherit. I didn't know what dad sounded like, I don't really care either, more with the whole ya know-I don't care about anything sort of vibe. So I turned my head to peer at the young thing that had the audacity and bravery to interrupt me ME! I mean blood ran down my maw and death hung around the air and sung a song in this deep forest, how had she not been scared away? My nostrils flare to inhale her scent, a snort releasing from my lips as something very strong and tangy entered them rather then the smell of flesh and fur. Curious, I turned my body to her, purple mirrors sweeping her pale skin and small body. She would be an easy target, but luckily for her, I was full, and her lack of fear was interesting to me, I didn't normally get to meet horses because well, I was freaking scary! I loved it though, basking in the fear I brought to people was amongst some of my favorite things to do.  

Flashing my blunt, bloody teeth, I offered a wicked smile, "Just having a snack, I dare you to taste it!" I played, well no, I wasn't playing, my dark purple orbs seeped into the bright and lively eyes of this young creature. Could I taint this woman just like mom had me? My eyes spoke, prodding and wishing for her to lap up the fresh liquid that oozed from my bite mark--this lady had dared to enter the depths of my forest, and I would most definitely give her a fine tour of the monsters within it.


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OCC: 



A monster is born

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@Larue HAHAHA she has met the woman devil!


RE: Red Trees - Larue - 06-05-2016

Larue
Her eyes widen even more at the flash of blood filmed teeth the dark mare gave her. Some kind of impulse flared in her slender, ribby barrel (it was repulsion, but she did not know that, yet), pushing her to run away from this sight. But she couldn’t. She was too intrigued by the wicked smile and dark plum eyes that landed squarely on her. Her sprightly gait faltered only once, gangly knees hitching as she paused her steps; but she continued, closer and closer, approaching the blood-drenched girl.

Ears twitch in their forward strain as the other’s surprisingly deep voice spoke to her. There as something musical, but also foreboding in her darkly playful speech… and it drew Larue in even more. The falter of her steps ceased and her small, rose hooves quickly carried her tiny body close to the darkly violet woman and her dead doe.

“Taste it?” the young tenor of her voice came hesitantly— but her bright aqua eyes eagerly swept from the other’s dark plum to the flowing red of the deer’s gaping neck. Tentatively, her soft, pink muzzle dropped to the still warm body, small nostrils quivering as she sniffed the bright red liquid. It smelled metallic and earthy, not appetizing at all.

But she had come so far— round aquamarine eyes glance up at the larger filly, before her teacup muzzle parts, plush tongue darting out to sample the blood— “Ew-uch!” her disgust was garbled as she jerked her head up, spitting out the blood from her lips.

“You like that?!” Her voice rose in octaves with her incredulity, a frown creasing her lemon freckled brow as some ruby liquid still clung to the whiskers of her muzzle. “And I though others didn’t like the way I tasted. This has gotta be worse!” Her smart reply was punctuated with swishes of her yellow fluff tail.

Even to her fading taste buds, this had to be far worse than had face her mother made after cleaning or licking her. It just had to be.

image | bckg

@Cortana


RE: Red Trees - Cortana - 06-26-2016

And out of fire

and Ice







My interest arrises greatly as I watch hopefully, my purple eyes intent on the pale filly's movements. It is as if the world slows for me, her lips reaching the blood that seeped from the fallen deer perfectly paced, as I watch with utter glee when the liquid slips into her mouth and follows down her throat. I am disappointed to see that she does not enjoy that taste as I do, perhaps it is acquired, but as I continue my lingering throughout this Helovia it is more and more that I find that not many like the blood, nor do many like me. 

I am thought of as repulsive, a sorrow, they all pity Zandora, my mother, the wretched whore(what even does the word mean? I heard it used once and I like the way it sounds compared to mom's name) but no one cares about me! I am all alone, and perhaps it is why I am the "monstrosity" they say I am. I will never admit it though, I like the way I am, but in the rare moments that I think about the people mom got to run back too and the great crowed of zero that I have--well it is quite a bit saddening. 

I almost want to hurt myself when reality finally snaps back into me, some sense along with it. I am Cortana the vampire! I should not care although I do about anything! I fear none and all fear me, there is no room for second guessing and sad stories, I do not need pity, I am not weak, I am not her. The root of everything I am, the destroyer, she who forsaken me! I hate her, the saddest excuse of a mother. At least the blush accented mare seemed to not toddle on the edges of insanity, and here I am trying to taint her. Suddenly something within me is decided; I shall't pick on the young. Everything evil had exceptions. 

My face frowns at the sight of the unnamed filly's disgust, I should have expected it anyways. Carefully I step towards her, trying my best to be gentle, with a seeping motion of my head, I beckon her to follow me, purple eyes soft and wary, an edge of something lining them, little did I know it was sadness. I had never felt it before. "I-ugh I'm sorry about that, no one likes it but me. Let me luh-lead you to water. Fall up head." I spoke with soft tones, strange chords coming from me. 

Hoping she follows, but not checking I start to break the path to the gem littered pond that I had found earlier, perhaps some water was what this lady needed. I can't offer much, but I at least owed her this and Cortana did not owe debt to anyone. 

A single ear flipped to the side at which the filly had come to, my eyes still following the path that I was taking to the pool, "Tell me, what is your name? What is this talk about people not liking the way you taste? Are there others like me?" I asked, some sort of hope kindling in my young heart. Not all was sour inside the vampire that I was known as and to think that their might be others like me! Man I'd be so excited! Perhaps things were looking up for me.



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OCC: 



A monster is born

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@Larue


RE: Red Trees - Larue - 07-12-2016

Larue
It’s… interesting, the changes that swept over the dark, bloodied mare’s face in response to Larue’s outright disgust at the metallic taste. Lemony ears perk forward, peeking out of her fluffy, flaxen foal-fuzz mane to hear the apology and the offer of water. Though, the little filly’s poor sense of taste had truly already dulled the sour, earthy taste in her mouth, she still followed the gentle sweep of the older filly’s legs towards the water source with pert, little strides. It took three of her pink-dusted steps to match one of the dark vampress’s, but the persistent little lemon drop kept up just fine.

“What’re you apologizing for?” Her small head cocked slightly as they walked, cheeky voice interested as bright aqua eyes darted from the uneven forest floor to the other’s dark plum eyes. In her curious stare of the other, she tripped a few times on gangly legs as she did not pay enough attention to the roots of the trees. But, on bouncing small hooves, she recovered her balance quickly.

She splayed her knobby knees wide, her short foal’s neck straining to reach down to the pool once they arrived. Pink lips part, taking but a quick short sip of the cool water—she preferred mom’s milk over water, anyway. And her head popped up, forelock flopping into her eyes and splaying around the glittering candy-nub horn as the girl spoke again.

“I’m Larue. Who’re you? And why d’you drink that stuff?” her head cocks, eyeing the other before answering her other questions. “I don’t know anyone who eats that stuff,” her tiny head motioned back towards the dead deer and its blood, “I mean that I taste different than anyone else—or so my ma and da say.” She sidled closer to the vampress, ignorance and youth making her next choice rather questionable, even with her pixieish grin, “Here, have a lick!” And she offered her withers (thankfully not her neck) to the other filly.
image | bckg

@Cortana


RE: Red Trees - Cortana - 07-28-2016

And out of fire

and Ice




My little companion begins to grow on me, the chime of her steps echoing in my ears almost comforting. It had been soo long since one had accompanied me, it almost seemed at this point that my interactions with the dead in the inanimate were more then those that lived. 

I pause, hesitating as she questions my sorrows, was it not good enough that I said I was sorry? It felt right, perhaps if I was raised by someone I would know, but to explain myself to the likes of the filly? I didn't like it. How could she ever understand! No one understood me! I was hated, disgusted, not wanted, 

Taking a breath with the anger that swirled inside me, I continue on,"I don't think you'll understand. It is of no worth of explanation." I finish, the pool side ariving.
I watch the pale filly struggle to sip upon the crimson tides, the red glow consuming her blush and cream skin, who knew that golds and reds laced so well upon the younger's skin. 

I can instantly tell that my hopes aren't going to be fulfilled, my eyes saddening just a bit. She asks questions, questions that I owe that answers to but only know the answer to one. I have never thought about why I was the way I am, but rather just accepted it as what I was fated to be. "I am Cortana, but I do not know why I do. I drank blood instead of milk ever since I was young." I inform her, talking with the ringing echo of a snake, the sultry lure of my signature. 

Larue tells me about something else that lightens my mood, the approaching grumpyness staying at bay for just a bit longer. She offers her body, so wholly, so innocent she was. I can feel my brain thirst for the blood that pumped through the veins of the deer, the taste of it within my mouth, I do not starve for food, but the thirst is always lingering upon my tongue. Shaking my head, my composure is regained, the young shalln't be picked on, I won't feast--but perhaps a taste of whatever the child spoke of, would be alright. No harm in trying.

I hesitate in positioning my lips towards her withers, offering enough time for Larue decide to evade the monster in which Cortana was, I was. If she allowed, my maw inched closer, a tentative lick across her tangy, sour skin, bringing a slight delight to my features. My face lingers near her withers as the taste slips over her tongue. I pull away reluctantly, being that the tastes of bitter and tangy things were what I lived off of, I quite enjoyed the taste. What possibly could make her like that? "Larue, what makes you taste different? Do you know?" I asked, childish curiosity flooding through me like the water's around the arc. Was there some higher being that disposed children with their own trait that made them different? This was one other that I had met-- one other that made the wickedness inside me feel different, feel less wicked



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OCC: 



A monster is born

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@Larue


RE: Red Trees - Larue - 08-27-2016

Larue
Her candied, pale chest puffs out in indignation as the mare claims, “I don't think you’ll understand.” Her bright, aquamarine eyes narrow slightly—she might be young, but she was not stupid. “I’d understand,” she petulantly muttered to herself, furry ears laying back slightly as her gaze darts away from the darkly violet woman.

But the filly is rewarded with some answers, as Cortana gives her a name and tells how long she’s been drinking blood. “Since you were a filly?” her eyes widen, petulance forgotten, as she she incredulously parrots the vampress’s explanation, “Really?!” She had been lemony since her birth, but her food had been… well, normal stuff. Like milk, grass (she kept trying it at mother’s insistence that it would eventually taste good; the filly wasn’t convinced, yet).

Her avid interests shifts, ever mercurial for being a foal, intently watching the woman’s face as she takes a lick of her withers. Eager anticipation paints her features, waiting for the surprise and pucker—but this woman likes it! Of course she does, obviously her tongue is different than anyone else who had licked her tartly sweet skin. “You like it?” her ears perk forward, surprised and intrigued. “Most others don’t,” she says by explanation of her question.

“Well, dad is made of candy, too. But he tastes sweet, not like me,” a micheviois grin pairs with her brief answer to Cortana’s question, “Dad says it’s ‘cause of magic—hey! maybe that’s why you eat-uh-drink blood,” her head cocks slightly as she belatedly connected the dots. “What do you think?” her lemon-freckled face cocked to the side as she waited for the woman to answer, any and all fear of the woman forgotten as they loitered beside the strange waters’ edge.
image | bckg

@Cortana