[O] X-Women: The Age of Mutants - Printable Version +- HELOVIA || The Way to the Sun (http://helovia.com) +-- Forum: The Wilds (http://helovia.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=22) +--- Forum: Thistle Meadow (http://helovia.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=27) +--- Thread: [O] X-Women: The Age of Mutants (/showthread.php?tid=27079) |
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X-Women: The Age of Mutants - Wessex - 04-10-2017 I AM IRON AND I FORGE MYSELF If Wessex were prone to dramatics, she’d tell the story later and say it’s a miracle she left that beach alive, which is far from the truth but gives credit where credit is due to her opponent. For now, the mottled (how much of it is bruising instead of coat coloration, she can’t be sure) mare limps along in a northern direction until her thigh muscles demand she stop and rest. Begrudgingly, she obliges, taking repose under a soaring oak tree. The boughs block out the stars, rustling in a warm summer wind that seems to lull the weary warrior into a fitful, dream-filled sleep. W E S S E X Wessex is going through her second mutation! RE: X-Women: The Age of Mutants - Amaris - 04-23-2017
It wasn't often that the dragonmare explored the lands beyond the borders of her herdland after the sun had made its descent. It was almost a ritual, a canon, that the dragonmare would be within the borders of the lands during the time of day when their Goddess was strongest. Her mother had had a bracelet, a charm that allowed her to take twilight with her always - Amaris sometimes missed it, though she was also a creature of fire and light and warmth, she missed the devious charms of her mother, and wondered at what had become of them often. You would have loved Akaith, Amaris chuckled through the bond to her companion, who was in his usual position on the breeze above her wandering form. He did not speak a reply, but simply sent a sense of agreement through their bond, warm and comforting, his mind vaguely flicking through her memories to steal images and impressions of the first golden dragon to exist within Helovia, pulling up with them images of Mirage while he was at it. It was a cathartic exercise for them both; he for having never met them, she for remembering them in a new light, with his perspective painting the memories anew.
Tonight, neither of them had felt like sleeping. It had been hard work these last few days, aiding the herd task of clearing the way for the temple to be constructed, and Amaris had spent a lot of time napping and recovering from the physical aspect of it while the sun was up. Evidently, she had overdone it, and now seemed to have shifted temporarily onto a nocturnal sleeping pattern. A wanderer by nature, she explored the Meadow without really taking in any features it offered, merely trailing the curve of the river as it wend its way through the lands. It wasn't until a sound of alarm and pain went up nearby that tension filled her, ears pricking and eyes scanning the area. Amaris was half dragon, half predator, yet she was also half equine, and so she was not immune to the immediate sense of fear when alerted to potential danger. A harsh snort seemed to follow the alarm, and the dragonmare takes tentative steps through the trees to find the form of a many-horned mare lying almost prone upon the ground. The dragonmare drinks in her appearance swiftly, registering and accepting it with ease (she was a dragonmare after all, and did her best never to judge others for their appearances). Aside from the unusual assortment of horns across the belle's body, she seemed battered and bruised, though none of the wounds were fresh - why then had she suddenly called out in alarm? "Are you alright?" her soft, singsong voice enquired, her gaze scrutinising the area. "I heard something, and was worried someone was being hurt," she added, seemingly satisfied that there was no immediate danger (it helped when Dramyrth was also able to scout from the skies to assure her as much), and returning her golden gaze to the horned mare's. @Wessex Couldn't resist! #sorrynotsorry Amaris drákos istoría on deviantart RE: X-Women: The Age of Mutants - Wessex - 04-30-2017 @Amaris Sorry dis sucks :/ RE: X-Women: The Age of Mutants - Amaris - 05-01-2017
The dragonmare, having missed the actual transformation that took place, did not quite understand the reference the mare made to growing pains - the grey lady looked grown full, adult, at an age where the only changes that would affect her would come from battle, or magic otherwise. Perhaps it was some kind of magical change, Amaris mused, having gone through something like that recently. Oh! the realisation echoed through her mind and bond, that's where I recognise her from! The fire-cheetah.
Any further than that, however, and Amaris' memory was blurred by the chaos that ensued from the fire-cheetah's existence - she merely recalled seeing the spiked mare's form, and was ignorant to the fact that Wessex now bore more spikes than that previous point in time. The mare did seem riddled with aches and pains, and concern frowned across Amaris' façade, but she allowed the mare to distract her from it - guessing that she was distracting herself from the pains as much as she was deflecting Amaris was enquiring any further into what they were all about. "Couldn't sleep," the dragonmare offered simply, with a rolling 'shrug' of her winged shoulders. "Decided to enjoy a moonlit exploration instead of standing around imaging all of the unsuccessful ways I could try and get myself to fall asleep." That was the sum result of her reasons, though certainly not very specific. Basically, her mind was too loud to let her body rest, so she put her body to work as well. With a raised brow and a kind, curious glint to her eyes, she posed the question right back at the mare: "And yourself? What interests you to venture to these parts in the dead of the night?" @Wessex Amaris drákos istoría on deviantart RE: X-Women: The Age of Mutants - Wessex - 05-08-2017 I AM IRON AND I FORGE MYSELF
Even after these lovely additions, Wessex imagines that her head-spikes (or dildos, as an inebriated old pervert might call them) will always garner more attention than her tail-spikes, as one often naturally looks to another’s head for conversation. That might give her an advantage one day, but not now, when they’re hardly more than white nubbins poking through her tender flesh like a baby’s first set of teeth. “Sleep is overrated,” Wessex replies with a half-scoff, though it is purely in jest. It’s what they all tell themselves, right? Now that they don’t immediately doze off into lalaland like they once did as foals and the pains of adulthood are all too real, they must convince themselves that this sleep thing is not the only thing they want. W E S S E X @Amaris RE: X-Women: The Age of Mutants - Amaris - 05-11-2017
Oh, to find sleep as easily as she had when the comforts of youth still clouded her mind. Amaris had never been a stupid child, no, but the ignorance of youth truly was blissful, mostly because one did not know just how little one knew. As age and time and experience chipped away at one's innocence, the realisation of just how insignificant you were became more apparent. And for some reason, this realisation caused anxiety, uncertainty, unrest - and, inevitably, shit sleeping cycles.
Amaris maintained a small half-smile, a shadow of a smirk upon her lips, as the mare commented on sleep, or lack thereof, being normal. Yes, at times like these, when one preferred moonlight to daylight, but the majority of activity occurred during daylight, meant sleep was elusive even when one was not fraught with overwhelming thoughts that churned into a cesspool of anxiety and restless nerves. The dragonmare did what she could to cope - she walked, she thought, she filled in the time as best she could with something, anything just to continue getting by in the crazed world. So the mare was from the Basin, and most likely in the warrior ranks, if her comments were anything to go by. Amaris tried to maintain fitness in a survival setting, she did what she could to ensure she knew how to defend herself, how to disable an attacker, how to stand strong against one who would strike her down - how to protect her home, even if it technically was her rank's responsibility, it was hers. Amaris offered a conciliatory nod and wry grin, happy that at least it seemed the mare's pride was more bruised up than her body. "It's best to keep moving, if you can. It will hurt, but a lot less in the long run, than if you stand still and let the aches settle too long." Soft, warm tones offered, though their words suggested low level torture as the solution to everlasting pain and suffering. "I'd be happy to walk with you if you want." It was a genuine proposal, though she suspected she might be scoffed at for making it. So, with another wry, almost cheeky grin, she added swiftly: "Or, of course, I'd be happy to stand around talking all night too, if you'd rather succumb to your bruised and battered ego." @Wessex Amaris drákos istoría on deviantart RE: X-Women: The Age of Mutants - Wessex - 05-22-2017 @Amaris RE: X-Women: The Age of Mutants - Amaris - 05-23-2017
It seemed her pokes and prods would be enough to stir activity from the mare, no matter how grumbling and pained she was feeling. Amaris was glad she had not taken offence to her jabs and taunts, glad that she saw what little humour there was left in the unfortunate situation she had found herself in. The dragonmare's smile remained as she watched the mare get up, not foolish enough to offer to help left she offend the mare by assuming she was 'weak' enough to need help.
"I don't mind," the dragonmare confirmed quietly, nodding along as they began to walk, albeit slowly, in the approximate direction of North. The spiked mare reveals her name, and having already surmised that she was from the Basin, Amaris guesses that her previous conclusions were right - Wessex was probably in the warrior ranks, probably sparring, practising, improving herself for a future of conquering or defending lands. "Amaris," she offered simply, even as Dramyrth plonked unceremoniously from his hidden perch in the trees above to land atop her scaled withers. "This is Dramyrth," she added, forever including him in her introductions now, still curious that there was ever a time she could not do so. "My story?" she asked back, as they wandered the lands. Movement was good, it stopped the chill of the night from settling in, it gave her body and mind something to do other than think and worry, activities she had been engaging in a little bit too much of recently. "I'm a half-dragon, half-equine mare who lives at the World's Edge as a Philosopher," she began, not entirely sure what the horned mare wanted of her as far as 'stories' went. "I was born in the Edge, but found myself travelling away for a time. My most recent trip saw me away for barely more than half a season, but when I returned, almost two full years had passed in Helovia." She supposed that was an interesting enough story to tell, if the mare wanted to hear more about it - but there wasn't really any more, for Amaris had settled finally, had found work she enjoyed and was finally building relationships up again, despite her past, despite those she had lost along the way. "A fairly standard Helovian tale, I'm afraid," she added with a wry grin, knowing all too well that Helovia was a hotspot for fantastic tales and histories, wondering if this spiked mare had her own to tell. "How about you? Got an interesting tale to share? Are you a native?" @Wessex Amaris drákos istoría on deviantart RE: X-Women: The Age of Mutants - Wessex - 05-26-2017 @Amaris RE: X-Women: The Age of Mutants - Amaris - 05-27-2017
A half-smirk curved her lips as the spiked mare chuckled, and Amaris was glad to be able to provide some amusement to the interaction, some semblance of light and laughter to an otherwise odd situation. It was good, she supposed, that she was able to talk about her past with relative ease now, when even still so recently going into detail about it had wreaked havoc with her emotions. It was easier this way, to speak so lightly about it all, to gloss over the details, to merely speak about it as if she were speaking about someone else's history, someone else's past. To disassociate, to distance, to carry on and ignore the pulls of nostalgic depression that tried to pull her down, always.
Was it respectful to those that had been affected by her past? Was it right? Amaris didn't know the answer to those questions, she only knew that it was a way to cope, however unhealthily, with the burden of their histories. Perhaps it wasn't a long term solution to dealing with it, but that was a problem for 'future-Amaris' to deal with - 'present-Amaris' needed to focus, to get on with life. She listened to the short tale Wessex weaved, silently respectful, hearing the familiar undertones of seriousness in her words, detecting a sense that this mare was doing similar to herself, and speaking of the events with such brutal dryness that it was as if they were describing a stranger's history, a lore of a land, a simple fact that one needn't cry or reel or feel anything about. Amaris, while not a fan of bloodshed and war for all the death and destruction it inevitably brought, did not blame the mare for distancing herself the way she herself had, and accepted the story with a quiet nod and impassive expression, not feeling inclined to prod deeper into this curious mare's history, for clearly she had been through enough without the dragonmare investigating the inner workings of her emotional state. "Quite," Amaris agreed softly, her smile a bit more sombre, but her eyes telling of the recognition of the mare's coping of a rough past, yet she did nothing more about it than that simple look. It was definitely interesting, that much the dragonmare could not deny no matter how many other histories she heard. Wessex had spoken of a mercenary group, and the dragonmare could not help but think of the Grey, the herd that had taken the Foothills for themselves only to then join with the Basin and wring havoc against her home - a group of skilled beings who sold their abilities to the highest bidder. The memory that rose unbidden to her cranium left a sour taste in her mouth, though she hid it well behind her smirking façade and quiet, curious glances. "And how are you finding Helovia? As exciting as the life you've left behind, or less so?" she posed, seeking to distract her wayward thoughts from past wars and horrors, seeking solace in this mare's words, her past, her story, so that she might for just a moment, forget her own. @Wessex Amaris drákos istoría on deviantart RE: X-Women: The Age of Mutants - Wessex - 06-08-2017 I AM IRON AND I FORGE MYSELF Oh, Wessex had plans of selling her abilities to the highest bidder, but one thing led to another… and then Tiamat found her in the Threshold… Erebos turned out to be a kindred spirit… and, eh, maybe gold is overrated. Maybe what she’d really been looking for is a place to let her ambitions grow, to find something worth caring about again. Her life is no longer a number on a checklist, worth whatever the men with money deem it to be. It isn’t determined by a kill count or how many times she’s nearly died, or by whatever she can win from her fellow phalanx mates. The Corporal still values strength and cunning and still finds her head goes a little light and thrummy in the heat of battle, but she also knows someone isn’t going to slit her throat in the night for a newfangled sword. W E S S E X @Amaris RE: X-Women: The Age of Mutants - Amaris - 06-13-2017
The dragonmare couldn't help the sense of judgement, of assessment, as the spiked mare continued speaking. That the mare thought her own story, her own history was less interesting than the simple fact that Amaris was half-dragon irked her a little, though she could not pinpoint specifically why. Amaris thought of herself as nothing more than what she was: half-dragon, half-equine, bondmate to a golden king (the first), a wanderer who had finally settled (at least for now), a mare of reasonable intelligence who felt emotions very deeply, who did not always make intelligent decisions despite her cleverness, who often felt awkward, anxious, and otherwise out of place even in a world of strangeness and many unique individuals.
So she offered a small half-smile, trying to be appreciative, clinging to the fascination that was dragons, for even though she shared blood with the fiery reptiles, she too found them endlessly captivating and bewitching. Wessex moved on to speak about the current climate of war and unrest, of insecurity and curiosity over the fate of the gods. Amaris remembered from her childhood, the wars of the gods that savaged the lands, the magic that was numbed, paused, stolen for a time, the darkness that swallowed the lands. History repeats, she knew, this was just another cycle of change, of uncertainty, of crisis and turmoil. Would they survive it? The only certain answer was that they would try. "Kaos is indeed an interesting development, but Helovia has seen many such developments and continues onwards despite it all. I do not advise accepting complacency, but merely hope to inspire a will to survive." They were but pawns on a giant chessboard, all of them, for none of them could dream of the power the gods wielded, the sheer might of their will able to craft and construct lands from nothing (at least, that's how the original Helovia was built, before they took to 'stealing' lands from other dimensions altogether); that they were threatened, powerless and blind against this Kaos should cause concern to stir in even the most ignorant of the populace. But they would survive, wouldn't they? They would carry on, though they had no idea of the possible changes they might have to bear, to face, to fight - or to join? @Wessex Amaris drákos istoría on deviantart |