[O] Catch an Assassin by the Toe [Challenge Watch] - 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] Catch an Assassin by the Toe [Challenge Watch] (/showthread.php?tid=25977) |
||||||||||||||
Catch an Assassin by the Toe [Challenge Watch] - Thranduil - 12-21-2016
He hadn’t even been here a day, and already he was find this place an absolute delight. Not for the snow or the sea breeze. No none of those trifling sense of place could make his heart delight. Nah, this foul creature delighted for it seemed everyone was here, and nothing ever stood still. When all the rest of Helovia huddled in masses against the cold this place was practically alive. Of course he wasn’t full up to his usual tricks just yet. The gold was ever vain and prideful but he was wise as well. He belonged at the top of his trade, and not under the direction of others. Never did their order saddle him well. Yet there would be time for that. He would play about at first, trifling in a few affairs. His skills were already proven and there was no need to stretch out his neck again. It seemed though, not everyone was of that opinion. A bellow rose above the mists and the gold, his stag off exploring on his own, pauses, and listens. A challenge? Sounded like fine entertainment for the afternoon. As he strolled closer he heard the screeches of the details come screaming through, and my were they ever juicy. As the gold came through the trees, hanging onto the border of them his Cheshire grin couldn’t be hidden. How much better of a welcoming party could you get than to see your superiors tearing each other apart and watch all their weaknesses and secrets fall from their pockets. His tasseled tail flicking and curling with satisfaction the golden settled down to watch, making note of each accusation, and each thrown punch. What mighty fools he had to get in shape…All the jabbering, and pointless name calling. Honestly, these two were more like bickering old nans. (The gold was perhaps at times, guilty of that himself, but as always those so easily slipped from his mind at times like these). What fun lay ahead in holding this over their heads. Let’s see, so far. 0 for style. 0 for sass. 10 each for egos. And throw in a 5 for tom fool bravery. Was this the best they could do? They may not know him yet, a golden figure, crowned in silver and cloaked in a wolf, hanging around at the sidelines, but better all the same. He’d settle for that today. They’d regret not turning their attacks on him soon enough. "Talk?" OOC:: Challenge watching thread for Toulouse vs Raeden! Feel free to join! we live like thieves kings among men RE: Catch an Assassin by the Toe [Challenge Watch] - Thranduil - 12-22-2016 Oh gods it just got worse. The painted pale one, Toulouse had she called him? Gods he talked too much. Say a quick snap and then move on. Even the pitch of battle could drown into boredom by a lengthy monologue. The lass, Raeden was it?, he had to give credit. She held her tongue and focused. Not easy when accusations fly, especially in their business. But she was woefully simple, as was he. Nothing in the first attacks gave any hint of flare or power. It was just bodies beating against one another in the mud, like dull drums. The gold almost thought of spicing it up himself….but then she did it for him. Amid the screeches and splashes the pale mare vanishes. Instantly a brilliant smile rolls on the gold, and he steps forward. Despite himself his whisper slips through, “That’s more like it.” The Laurelin’s ears leaned forward and that gold in his eyes sparked and arched with excitement. Perhaps it was small, maybe a 2 on the points of style and 3 on technique, but it was a clever plan. And was at least better than what they had been doing. Of course, it seemed not everyone was so thrilled with the introduction of magic. A child’s scowl rises above the pounding blood, and the gold quite literally rolls his eyes. What a foolish, simpleton that one was turning out to be. He expected to rule over a ring of spies with Thranduil in its company? God would he have his hands full if he thought a bit of cloaking magic was a cheat move. That was just a parlor trick in the Laruelin’s arsenal. He let’s his voice rise and carry, letting it play and not trying to hide the humor he found in all this. “Quit your whining, its a challenge, of course there's magic!” Not the greatest way to say hello to your two new bosses. His smile grew all the more as the fight continued on. Oh yes he was quite enjoying this. As Toulouse dared the hidden mare, the gold laughed out loud. Not because of the dare, but for his love of wanting to see that. The gold still could not be more pleased as punch. What a better first day at work than to see the building burning down and know that the arson charges wouldn’t even lead to you even though you had a few matches in your back pocket for later. "Talk?" OOC:: -responded to self- -no shame- we live like thieves kings among men RE: Catch an Assassin by the Toe [Challenge Watch] - Tilney - 12-22-2016
♥︎ RE: Catch an Assassin by the Toe [Challenge Watch] - Thranduil - 12-22-2016 A voice lifts beside him cutting off his laugh. The Laurelin, though not dropping his high spirits, remembers himself a bit more. Or at least remembers to hide it. His crowned head turns as another golden hued body moves forward to stand beside him. Brows muddle in given concentration as he recognizes the lantern holding figure who greeted him in the Threshold. Though he still did not have a name for the face, so he turns silently back to watch the fight. To the other onlookers question, a flippant “Not long…” is given. The gold, though highly entertained, was still watching for each note he could make about the two. As the creature beside him began to rummage around, an earth eye side glances his direction. His tools and concerns give him away. A healer. Not a bad friend to make. He speaks up again, and a grin lights the golden’s face once more. “On occasion.” Then he looks from the mud slinging to his apparent companion. “But I must know a stallion’s name first before I enter a bet with ‘im.” It was said in a light humor, though some tone of expectation laid heavy upon it. He waited to see if he would get his reply, but regardless of the answer, drawing a bet was too much fun. “They’re evenly matched…” He looks back to the spar, catching up. “He is determined…but Raeden has more weapons …” And Toulouse would indeed make a lousy boss if that’s how he thought to win the world over. There were more ways than one to skin a cat, but the gold had obvious favorites and it seemed the two’s ideals of how to get things done were already very obviously different. But this last thought the gold kept to himself. It would be more fun for the world to find that out later. "Talk?" OOC:: @Tilney @Rexanna we live like thieves kings among men RE: Catch an Assassin by the Toe [Challenge Watch] - Mauja - 12-22-2016 Art by Neverr ♥ but somewhere here in between the city walls of dyin' dreams
"Wow." He wasn't sure if he had ever sounded more unimpressed. He wasn't even sure if he had ever felt more unimpressed—maybe that day when he won the Edge's crown from the hands of those who fled to the Falls, but seriously? Mauja wasn't, by any meaning of the word, selfless, or graceful, or any other thing one might associate with demure, well-spoken ladies and gentlemen singing the praise of others and hiding behind their proud-less facades when praised themselves. Mauja was raw and crude and haughty, but at least he usually kept it to himself. Unless, of course, someone around him behaved in an absolutely deplorable fashion and with a marked lack of respect for the task at hand. At those times, he let it all out. Or at the times when beggars and whores bickered and contended for things they did not deserve; when they bleated out their egos and blood claims and thought they were worthy of something almost no one was worthy of. He had been angry, then. This time, he was just baffled, watching what was happening from the sidelines, across from Thranduil and later, Tilney. It was mind-blowing. It was confusing. It was absolutely, absolutely, absolutely fucking ridiculous. It was the most stupid things he had heard in a long time, and by his standards, most of the shit he heard was stupid. But seriously? So, pretty-and-elegant boy wanted Raeden's position. Right, whatever—people could want what they wanted and he guessed they could fight for it, but why not just leave it at that? Why go and make an absolute fool of yourself? Then again, not everyone was as sensitive to the regard of others as Mauja were. "You tarry, flirt and meddle your way through your role as specter!" Wasn't that what they were supposed to do? Tarry the right things, flirt with the right people, and meddle? "It is an insult to the work of the Sleuths and the King and Queen you serve." "Please," he growled, too low for any to hear. "You don't get to decide that shit. Did you even fucking bother to ask them or are you just pulling the shit out of your ass and listening to it squeak?" As a result of angry muttering, he missed the next sentence, but he was sure it was pompous, grandiose, and absolutely ridiculous too. It went on, though. “Neither of us are fighters, let alone warriors Darling! Answer this challenge yourself or I shall accept your forfeit and you will be labelled a coward!” By who? By him? Who gave a rat's ass about what some stuck-up newcomer thought about anyone? Well, okay, as fucking Emissary, and as someone who genuinely cared about the herd's well-being, he had to care, and really, it was rather shameful to be so riled up when he always put so much stake at not trusting first impressions, seeing beneath the surface, hearing the heart's desires and not just the shit their mouths spewed out.. but hey ho, emotions are emotions, and at that moment, Mauja didn't want to be Emissary or nice or any of those things. He just wanted to pull the ice from the ground and impale some horses on it and cackle manically and savor the few, blessed seconds of a satisfaction so deep his vision darkened just from imagining it. Then Raeden marched onto the scene, and to Mauja's disappointment, she allowed herself to be baited into talking back. He had hoped, apparently in vain, that there was someone around here who knew their own worth well enough to not have to a, defend themselves from groundless, or incorrect, accusations or b, belittle their opponent. It was just disgusting. Absolutely, completely, utterly, disgusting, and Mauja stared at them in a way that said that he wasn't really about to recommend to Tembovu and Alysanne that they keep either of these idiots on the job. "You say that I have been absent, well where have you been?" Good fucking question. He knew it was as annoying as relentless, single-minded, useless gnats to have others assume stuff about their person—Mauja had suffered more than his fair share of that. So far, so good, as Raeden was only guilty of asshatery on one point, but to yet another round of disappointment, she soon pleaded guilty to his second charge as well. "Oh Darling you would never make it as a Specter, you call too much attention to yourself." It was ..mild, compared to Toulouse's accusations, but it still made him angry that the woman didn't just let her ears pin in a clear face of "shut the fuck up" and then went to stab the bastard without a word. After his tirade, he didn't really deserve a response. “Love, You didn’t even attend the sneak meeting,” the handsome stranger replied, and Mauja rolled his eyes. Was he sure of that? Raeden had ways of.. not quite being seen. He wouldn't put it past her to attend a meeting unnoticed. “In less than two seasons I have disrupted patrols from other herds, infiltrated the Dragons Throat to retrieve important information about their shocking excuse of an empire, conducted patrols of my own with fellow sleuths - that’s significantly more than you have done in a whole year is it not?” Wait, wait—"disrupted patrols" was a horribly obvious word to use, it sounded like he had dive-bombed them (except, he didn't have wings, oops) and shat on their heads and said HA HA HAHA you don't get to come close to the Edge!!! Whatever. Infiltrated the Throat and retrieved information? Not that Mauja had attended any kind of actual meeting with his two rulers, but this little tidbit of infiltration had never come to his attention. So, maybe he had gone and done something useful but two very important questions remained: a, had he simply gone on a whim or been ordered? and b, why the fuck hadn't Mauja been told? Someone had obviously not done their job properly and he rolled his eyes. Then another insult at Raeden's capacity as a Specter (which, frankly, Mauja wasn't in any place to assess as he knew jack shit about it) but he definitely got another minus for failing to mention the Queen. “Not another word. I so despise the sound of your voice and talking won't do you a single favor.” "It's not doing you any favors either," he muttered, shaking his head. It wasn't even an innovative insult. It was generic and boring and screamed of 'I-ran-out-of-useful-opinions-to-have-about-your-person' (which, to be fair, happened like three years ago if anyone asked Mauja, as nothing he had said about Raeden had been interesting). And as they launched into battle, he kept talking, taunting her; is that the best you can do? I'm not impressed, he thought firmly to himself, staring at them. Then Raeden disappeared, just like that, and he had to admit, that he was slightly impressed—by her, and only her. "Slightly" being the key word. “You cheat! I should have expected this much from you, witch!” "Wow," he said again. "Really? Re-fucking-illy?" Cheat? Witch? How had he expected to get anything done if he disliked this show of excellent, sneak-style magic? Or, maybe—maybe he was the only one allowed to cheat. Not that he did. He just yelled profanities about anal penetration before lunging and Mauja laughed out loud, a dry, bitter laugh, and shook his head. Was this the best the Edge had to offer? RE: Catch an Assassin by the Toe [Challenge Watch] - Lyanna - 12-22-2016 so i listen to the wind for an answer She hasn’t been out and about in the Edge much. Frostfall still pained her, reminded her just a bit too much of her flight from Morham, of the hurried whispered as a few loyal friends ushered her and her sister through the woods as they ran for their lives. Reminded her of the stories of how her brother had died, throat slit while he slept. He’d deserved to live far longer than he had, but if he could not have been granted a long life, then at least an honorable death. But the rebels feared her brother and his fire, and they had cut him down when he’d be unable to defend himself. So she’d kept a bit to herself, coming out to do her job, to make sure the herd was healthy, but generally staying away from it all. Her mood was slightly sour in a way it wasn’t normally, and she could only assume it must be memory that left her normally cheerful mood dampened. But she couldn’t ignore the bellow of a challenge as it rings through the trees, the commotion that disturbs an otherwise peaceful day. She goes, largely because it’s her job to heal anyone that needs it. And this seems like one of those times when it’s best that perhaps she just lingers around, waiting to see what damage is done than expect someone to come find her. As she makes her way through the trees, she sees a small crowd. Tilney’s words reach her, the words gambling and bet and gelding catching her attention. Since when are herdmates creatures to be gambled on? Since when are you so crabby, Lyanna? And the voice that scolds her in her own head is her brother’s, not hers. She sighs softly, entirely uncertain just when that happened, hoping it will disappear with the end of Frostfall. Particularly because so much of her ire seemed directed at Tilney, who was her friend and perfectly nice. What is wrong with me? “The gelding is Toulouse,” she says in a friendly manner, because it’s not like she blames Tilney for not knowing his name. And right now, as she hears what they are yelling back and forth at each other (particularly Toulouse), she’s not sure she entirely wants to know his name. It is childish and petty and a waste of energy she thinks, again in Corbin’s voice. Maybe she’s just going crazy, with her brother’s voice in her head all the time. Maybe she just misses him, and this is how she copes. Maybe it’s both. “I’m Lyanna,” she offers to the stallion that she doesn’t know. Her eyes drift to the battle scene, to the blood that she can see clearly on Toulouse’s face, to the cuts and bruises. Yup. She’d be staying right here to watch the show, though Tilney at least was also around. Hopefully it wouldn’t take both of them to deal with the wounds, but she’s not sure Tilney’s here to heal. A familiar white form catches her attention. She finally draws her attention away from the battle long enough to find him – Mauja. A smile lights on her face, glad to see him back. They are not close. In truth, they hardly know each other at all. But she does know he was missing, and she knows he is important to Alysanne and Tembovu, and that is enough for her. “Mauja,” she says softly, just loud enough to hopefully catch his attention, and then nothing more but a nod of her head. She doesn’t have anything to add to this conversation really. She doesn’t need to comment on the imagery of a horn up anyone anus, but she figured if that happened she’d really be needed. So she stays put, waiting to see lyanna RE: Catch an Assassin by the Toe [Challenge Watch] - Gawen - 12-22-2016 When the fire's at my feet again, and the vultures all start circling They're whispering you're out of time but still I rise While everyone stands around complacently, Gawen's world is falling apart. He comes racing up the hill at a speed that really isn't recommended for a colt as clumsy as he, panic sweating down his flanks and neck, the white of his eyes converging upon baby blues. Why is everyone just watching? What is happening? Why did the other figure even want to fight his mom? Why was nobody stopping them?! The frozen earth refuses to budge beneath his barreling limbs, and he can feel the pain of his own ligaments protesting as he slides to a painful stop near the crowd. They're all so calm, so uninterested, so uncaring and his heart feels like it's shattering and set aflame all at once. Gawen has never even witnessed an unhappy baring of teeth or a nip to the haunches, much less a full-fledged battle. And the first he's ever subjected to is his own mother's challenge. The tears didn't bud the entire flight up the slope where the rest of them wait, but they come now like a vicious torrent of emotion. Blurring his vision as he casts his judgmental, childish gaze upon them, head swinging to face them all. His limbs and wings tremble like a frightened bird, and Gawen knows he is not fearsome or brave. He is not cherished or respected, well known or appreciated. He's not an adult. But his heart is what makes him brave, and it is pounding so fast and hard against his ribs that he fears it will warp his physical body beyond recognition in the end. Gawen's voice swells into the shrieking tremulous thing of a fearful child and it spills out across his tongue as easily as his tears sweep down his cheeks. "What are you DOING?!" He shouts it in their faces, because he's too afraid to go down and face the cruel monster attacking his mother. You're nothing but a coward Gawen. He knows that, he tucks that slow kill piece of knowledge behind his heart and patches it up every night, and he's the one who has to live with it. "Why are you just watching?! They're hurting each other! This isn't funny! Stop it!" And the way his voice warbles on the last words implies he thinks that maybe, maybe, this is all still just a game. That he's the butt of a joke, as always, and it's just waiting to reveal itself. Just a prank, Gawen, don't worry! But nobody is saying it and his mother is still down there bleeding. He frantically looks between Lyanna and Tilney, his mentors, his idols and paragons of healing and gentleness. "I-I thought we were supposed to help? Why are we letting them do it? Mama's not a warrior why are they fighting? What does fighting have to do with being sneaky? Why does he want to hurt her?" Finally his voice chokes up beyond recognition and he just sits and cries, because he doesn't understand. It doesn't make any sense, and again Gawen's left feeling that the adults don't know a damn thing about what they're doing. A childish entitlement, but one that fractures his little golden heart like an earthquake opening up a chasm that won't heal. Reality and adulthood taste like ash and death on his tongue, and the only cleansing rain from the fairy tales are his own salted tears. Wounded blues glance across the two faces he actually knows, astounded by this new apathy and cruelty he sees in them, childhood shattering in little pieces before his eyes as he waits for them to do something. Anything. Why couldn't they see that this was mean, and cruel, and senseless? What did physical battle achieve? Oops have an emotional Gawen -shrugs- Image Credits RE: Catch an Assassin by the Toe [Challenge Watch] - Tilney - 12-22-2016
♥︎ RE: Catch an Assassin by the Toe [Challenge Watch] - Rexanna - 12-23-2016 are you who i dreamed? or just a memory?
The mare was late to the gathering, though it didn’t stop her. The various familiar voices she heard ringing through the forest was enough to get her into motion. However, there was one in particular that seemed to drift her ever closer. It wasn’t her friend, the tree-marked healer. It wasn’t the spotted man she met when she was trying to recruit her mate. No, it was simply the man she had shared intimate knowledge with that one stormy day in a cave. A secret she had kept quiet, buried down beneath many layers, never to surface as far as she would allow. And when she broke into the clearing, she spotted Tilney and Mauja, and a few others she hadn’t recognized including a child. She spotted Raeden and an unknown man in the distance sparring, and sensed the grievance the child spoke of as he cried. Perhaps she should have been more worried about the poor thing, but the only thing on her mind was the Laurelin and getting to speak with him after he had fulfilled his promise of bringing her son to her. She moved swiftly and carefully, as much as a pregnant mare could. She still didn’t look very pregnant, though she’d be sure to avoid any stray magic from the challenge before her if they were to head her way. The ex-thief moved quietly to an empty space beside Thranduil, turning her head to him and offering him a gentle smile, careful to not make it seem as though they were more than mere acquaintances – at least if anyone were watching. The last thing she needed was word spreading; though it seemed Tembovu had quite the mouth himself on the matter as she thought about what Nyx had said to her. Rexanna offered her muzzle in a simple greeting to the gilded man before her gaze distanced to the battle. “What’s it all about?” She mused quietly, ears perked to the challenge in curiosity of what they wanted to get out of it. She didn’t know the position of Raeden, nor the unknown man fighting her – and so she was at a loss. "Talk." rexanna Rex sneaks in and stands next to @Thranduil <3 RE: Catch an Assassin by the Toe [Challenge Watch] - Mauja - 12-25-2016 Art by Neverr ♥ but somewhere here in between the city walls of dyin' dreams
Somewhere deep within, the fury started to smolder—like wind sparking up the blue coals, tongues of flame licking the white-burnt ruin and seeking life. Purchase. Anything to burn in the furnace of his wrath. Was this the world he wanted to live in? To defend, undying, until the ages came at long last to their end..? These people—these selfish, arrogant people—were they worth this torment? You chose this he reminded himself, watching the bodies twist and turn in violence. And if you break that fucker into a million pieces, you'll be just as bad as they are. His straying eyes found Lyanna, who offered him a nod; he returned it, distant and thoughtful. The emotions snaking beneath his skin and falling from his lips like poisoned words ceased, and he grew still. Focused. A child burst onto the scene. Crying. Screaming. Questioning why they let this happen—and Mauja questioned it too, as he watched the battle. Was ego worth the blood? Was ego worth the tears? Was ego worth it, to look like fools in the eyes of the future? His jaws pressed together. He told himself it wasn't the crying child, told himself it was just common sense firing up his urge to end this show of stupidity, but he couldn't fool himself, not entirely; it always shamed him when others saw clearer, and when others had to make him act. Shouldn't he have done something about this long ago? What kind of sacred rule allowed them to fight like spoiled brats over everything? Helovia was lawless and violent and he hated it. One man was not enough to stop the tide. The gelding was laughing, giggling, finding traction in the mud and hounding Raeden towards the edge. The fucking edge. Over a rank. The only reason Mauja would ever step within five feet of the bastard was to separate his cowardly heart from his arteries. His stillness froze into a pose of cold fury, the anger a reek rolling off him in waves. "THIS IS A RANK CHALLENGE!" he screamed at them, his weapons like fangs bared in waiting, little nubs of ice studding the ground around him as his wrath threatened to break him and, by extension, break the gelding. He'd spear the fucker if he didn't stop hounding Raeden towards the her doom. RE: Catch an Assassin by the Toe [Challenge Watch] - Lyanna - 12-25-2016 so i listen to the wind for an answer Her world does not crumble like Gawen’s, but her heart does. His eyes are wide and wild and he moves so much faster than he should and before she’s even thinking, she’s turning to meet him and leave everyone else behind, but suddenly he’s already there. The tears on his face make her want to wrap him in a hug, make her desperate to just make it all okay. But she cannot make it okay. We all have to learn, Lyanna. And like aways, it is her brother’s voice of reason that finds her. Calms her. Though somewhere in the back of her mind she still wonders if she’s going crazy. But for now, her attention is focused on Gawen. Tilney sweeps in with pretty words, offering to take Gawen away. Lyanna nods at him, encouraging, because he does need to leave. He needs to learn, but he doesn’t need to watch. “Gawen,” she says softly, dropping her head down some to be level with the boy, though he’s been growing. But the pain is lost against her torn heart. One more hole to live with. One more hole she’d never patch. “It’s a challenge. We aren’t allowed to stop it. But I will be right here to help heal them, and to make sure they are okay.” She can’t bring herself to promise that they’ll be okay. They will be. It’s only a challenge. But what if something else happens? How can she make such a promise that she cannot keep. The only promise she can keep is to stay here, to be here when it ends and to heal Raeden first. Which only seems fair, because she’s a little annoyed with Toulouse for making such a circus of this whole thing. “Why don’t you go with Tilney? I promise I’ll be here to help the whole time, however I can.” I just can’t do the one thing you want me to do, she thinks to herself, her own voice scolding her. After a moment, she pulls her head back up, looking back at Tilney, grateful that he’ll take Gawen. Though of course, only one minute ago he was betting against Raeden, but Gawen doesn’t need to know Tilney was betting at all. Mauja screams at them – the fighters. His anger is justified. This is what the fight has done. Sent a child to tears. Brought a collection of the herd to watch because they’ve created that much of a scene. Likely, it’s rent holes between a few horses that will not be patched so easily. But she does not think of that. Instead, she keeps her eyes flicking back and forth, from battle to Gawen, making sure he’s okay. Making sure he goes. lyanna RE: Catch an Assassin by the Toe [Challenge Watch] - Thranduil - 12-25-2016 “Thranduil” The Laurelin grants, letting his head nod slightly as he does so. His occupation and title did not follow. Once creatures knew him long enough they usually learned it themselves, and he quite liked that method for the moment. To the gamble though he grins. A prize eh? “The hard earned spark of another’s fire?” It was harmless bet. The gold was not in the business usually of betting his objects. Especially not on something like this. Yet he hated building fires. So the spark for another’s to start his, well, he’d still be quite pleased to have that (and he’d find any excuse not to pay up himself). Others filtered in and then a screaming banshee of a child burst on the rather civil gathering. Gold harks flatten against his skull and narrow earth eyes turn, not in accusation but bewilderment. He had just spent many a day with what must be the complete opposite of this small creature. As the child wailed against the world the gold could only snort. His mind far too tainted with darkness from his journey to bring forth any light or understanding to what was happening. If anything it would have been a cruel sentence, and even the gold could not deliver such verdicts to the babe in tears. Another day, perhaps, another mood. It did leave him companionless as he turned back to the fight, well, only for a second. Noise of crunching snow grows close, and the crowned head leaves what was turning rather dramatic spar, to see cream and gold. Instantly her smile is returned to her. Rexanna. The gold had never had what could be called a close friend. Certainly not this close. So it must be forgiven that even he could not classify exactly what she was to him. She more than a friend, but was not equal yet to Hotaru. Harks twitch back to the shouts from the challenge, but he keeps his eyes on her. Letting his muzzle meet her half way, and their breath mingle. He also hadn’t missed the narrow glares of the Elephant King that evening. So he does not linger long, drawing himself back and letting his attention return to the fight. He would antagonize that wound another day perhaps (he still could not tell from her winter fluff her pregnancy). Still, he was in truth glad to have her. He still, ever since the caves, could not say why, but it the ease came just the same. “A challenge for Spec-“ His voice drops as the fighting resumed…and changed. Crowned head rises slightly, and his body shivers into rigidness. The maniacal laughter rising from the now muddied field revealed the pale paint straining to shove Raeden…off the cliff. It was insane. It was beyond the line. It was looking like a decisive blow. “Damn.” Was all that left his lips, and he slips from the crowd into the trees. “Stay here.” Was the only goodbye Rexanna got. It was a field of slippery mud. A maniacal opponent. A death promising drop. There was no time to waste. As soon as he could be sure of privacy, he begged the magic forth. Nerves began to light a fire, each one searing as it morphed. This wasn’t his usual snatching, his one an identity of his own personal collection. Yet it came at a price. Pain caused his eyes to snatch shut of the world. It had been far too long since he had tested himself against it, and his usual tolerance of his high costs were low. Yet even as it worked onward down his body, he stumbles through the woods. Only seconds later, a bay Pegasus, with highlights of blue, steps through the trees, just by the cliff at a canter. He waits for nothing, says nothing, but opens his wings, and slips onto the drafts from the ocean below. His body tilts, wavers, as if uncertain, but really it’s a lack of practice. Really he should be better at this by now. Yet still, even his stomach still dropped at the height. He’d jumped it once before. But there was no time to smile at that. Tilting best he can, and riding what gusts he can, having to flap his rather gamely wings to keep steady on it, he rounds to see the fight. Now should this Toulouse look to clear the playing field, the gold ensure one He was not intending to make a habit of being a rescuer. But he did quite enjoy ruining the happy day of another. "Talk?" OOC:: @Raeden Thran is now in a bay pegasus form flying just beside the cliff. He swears not for her, but to ruin Toulouse's day. ;D Also side note for reality, though I doubt it'll come to it. But he can only slow her fall, he can't stop it. we live like thieves kings among men @Tilney @Rexanna for mentions RE: Catch an Assassin by the Toe [Challenge Watch] - Kiuaji - 12-25-2016
RE: Catch an Assassin by the Toe [Challenge Watch] - Arah - 12-26-2016
@Tilney and @Gawen RE: Catch an Assassin by the Toe [Challenge Watch] - Iona - 12-28-2016
RE: Catch an Assassin by the Toe [Challenge Watch] - Ru - 12-28-2016
RE: Catch an Assassin by the Toe [Challenge Watch] - Oizys - 12-29-2016
Cookies if you get the GoT reference ;D RE: Catch an Assassin by the Toe [Challenge Watch] - Thranduil - 12-31-2016 It was perhaps a rather good thing she didn’t actually fall off the cliff...the gold would have made the worst rescuer in history. The gusts off the sea proved more unsteady and uneven than he’d hoped, and though he struggled through, it was quickly clear to him once more he was completely out of his element. His sea blue eyes didn’t even catch how she’d managed to get away from the edge, having been too distracted by the whole entire effort. Yet when he did finally see the two move from the edge the gold decided it might be best to call off his efforts. Somehow playing hero simply wasn’t as fun as playing villain. He didn’t think he’d make it his day job. It took a few moments, but before long the gold was stepping out from the shadows again. His face looked a bit more worn, and his hide was slightly damp from sweat, but he had been careful to keep the transformation within the shadows of the trees. The fight had ended, the two on the field muddied and worn, yet it appeared the drama was not over. Several more had gathered, the gold noted as he stepped closer to Rexanna once more. He gave her no hello though as his earth eyes took in the arrivals. One seemed particularly upset. One hark twists back curious, as he sees her practically fuming, demanding an answer. There were only a few he could think of who could wear authority like that. A King (though she had balls, that job was already taken). A Queen (Resembled her, but not the one who had blocked the gold’s stealth a while back). A Head Thief. One was on the field so that left…..A smug grin rose on his face. Perhaps he was wrong, but the gold rarely considered such things. “The meaning of this is your skills at controlling your ranks appears to have gone stale.” He speaks up, quietly smug and without care. He had enjoyed the gift of seeing his superiors thrash themselves about (well perhaps not when it got a bit serious, but he’d like to forget that small moment when he felt the need to act). He had especially enjoyed watching it without the hint from anyone that he was one they should be particularly worried about. But that was about to change. It had been fun watching invisibly, but he was rarely let himself go on like that for long. The gold’s crowned head tilts, its smile broad and his vanity uncaring what looks or threats she throws his way. “You should keep a better eye on them.” He then holds. He knew he was poking the bear. He knew it wasn’t even asleep, but awake and growling. But since when did that stop him. “You never know whose name will appear on the roster.” Or where the next rank challenge would be from. He lets himself give a laugh, letting the humor of all this roll off him like rain on a duck’s back. So much for keeping his head low the first couple of weeks. "Talk?" OOC:: Thran's being a sassy pants we live like thieves kings among men @Iona @Rexanna for mentions RE: Catch an Assassin by the Toe [Challenge Watch] - Mauja - 01-02-2017 Art by Neverr ♥ but somewhere here in between the city walls of dyin' dreams
Beneath the anger pulsing like hammers on hot iron, there was something else. Something more dangerous. Something more deadly. Something frightened. A tight, cold vice around his heart, a shadow chasing his pulse, a noose tightening around his neck. A sickness threatening to break out in sweat and ice spires, an attempt to purge and cleanse this stain with blood. The voice, at first a whisper, grew into a shout, as hard eyes watched Raeden cheat death; is this what we have become? Iona was on his side. Oizys was not. Kiuaji said nothing, merely watched. The fighting stilled, and Raeden turned to them. The Laurelin said dangerous things to Iona, little triggers with too short-fuses and dynamite at the other end. He breathed fire on gunpowder and Mauja didn't know if he wanted to be there when it went off. It would be as messy as his tight fear, as his need to run somewhere far away, leave all this shit behind and live happily—peacefully—in a little field of bright flowers and snuggly, warm rabbits. His gaze, neutral and shielded, just blue as if his ability to hold opinions had died, passed over those gathered. How many of them needed to be there? Did they have a right to witness this depravity, just because they lived here? Show's over. Go home. Be ashamed of your kin, and how low we have fallen. "Iona," he called, finally moving, detached and disconnected; a mountain falling, and somewhere, distantly, he was surprised that he hadn't even wobbled. He walked straight, even, somehow. Even his voice didn't betray him, steady as the glaciers, raw as the storm. "Tilney. Lya—" But she was gone, staring out over the Edge, lost in her own world. "Lyanna?" he called, hoping she would not throw herself while they did not look. He looked at the others gathered, but said nothing. If they tried to intervene, he'd throw them out. So until they did.. innocent. And then he was where he needed to be, but where he did not want to be. Where he stared in the face of all things wrong and poisonous with their kind, all things he wished to remove from the face of their land, a vile venom he had no antidote for. He wanted to snap, to snarl, to bury his horn deep in the gelding's chest, but that would make him no better. Truth had as many shapes as there were minds to think. "Were you under orders to go to the Dragon's Throat?" he asked the gelding, voice neutral, eyes once more alive. His body spoke nothing of anger anymore, only the infinite patience and mercilessness of winter. [ If you guys want to continue it in Lyanna's thread that might be neat? If not, due to dual timelines, Lyanna probably won't be here for the rest. @Toulouse @Raeden ] RE: Catch an Assassin by the Toe [Challenge Watch] - Tembovu - 01-03-2017 Tembovu
The images, sounds, words—they were all distorted through Mbwene’s eyes. She didn’t quite understand all that was going on. She didn’t entirely understand all the words that were exchanged. But she understood the body language—that the little matriarch could read quite well. And so she urgently pushed what she saw to her bonded—the King was slowly returning from the Veins of the Gods. There was nothing good coming from this gather of Edgers—at least to her bright blue eyes. Nor from the two shouting, fighting, bleeding creatures on the cliffs.—‘do—gamble?’—‘—aeden…weapons…’—‘shit…fucking—re-fucking-illy?’— (these words stood out, as they were spoken by…Mauja?) —‘hurt’— (a younger, hurt voice, shaded blue in Mbwene’s vision) It was not until the image of a golden man pushing the beautiful Raeden towards the cliffs. Was that Toulouse? The image was quite distorted Mbwene’s uncertain, anxious eyes. But it was enough to make the King’s limbs strike out quickly on the earth. They were close enough to the Edge’s borders that his children would be kept safe by the mists and scouts. Ivory hooves shook the earth as he pounded forward; narrowly missing branches in the fog as Mbwene continued to send flashes of images and snippets of words. A bay pegasus swooping beneath the cliffs; Aji’s proudly arrogant face; Arah enveloping Gawn; Iona’s cold face— —And then the King was there. It was the end of the battle, Toulouse apparently the victor. There was something strange that stirred in his gut. Disapproval at the man nearly shoving Raeden off the cliffs; attempts to murder fellow herd mates would not be allowed in the Edge. No stakes were high enough within the herdlands for that. But the Elephant King knew of the snake’s predilections; he knew that sharp horns has cut where no sharp horns were meant to be near on a stallion… So there was something in him—some sort of pity—that held his tongue for a few moments as his navy gaze roved over all those assembled. But his gaze—there was not silencing the sharp slice of that. Though it gentled as it landed on the distressed Gawen. He nickered softly, deeply, to the spotted boy, before raising his head to find Lyanna, Mauja, Iona and Toulouse gathered apart from the group. A snort passed his nostrils as he approached them. Once more into the fray
credits | table by Neo
Tembovu arrives, nickers to Gawen, and then will be joining the other thread! |