She had kept them alive in her thoughts: too alive, perhaps. They haunted her now like starshine in the dead of night, shining bright in the inky blackness that was her thoughts, snarling and smiling and everything in between. They wrestled with each other in the confines of her head where she split her lip to keep them inside, and even though her eyes glittered - darkly and with excitement - they could not contain the thrashing of her thoughts.
Cancer’s eyes, they flickered through the shadows, bright-shining and mismatched - the left glimmers as a kind of soul-searching gold, the right a darkly whispering blue, both framed by feather lashes, both nervous, anxious, hissing. Her steps are neat, slender limbs contained in a slow-moving walk as she moves meekly through the forest, sunlight dappling across her skin; though inside her conscience toils in the ceaseless lecture against itself, she radiates cool collectedness from the inside out - small steps, head low, tongue clenched between her teeth. A waterfall of deep strawberry curls swishes behind her, wraps in whispering tendrils around her bird-boned legs and falls with a near-silent hiss to her heels, shoulders rolling under a water-smooth strawberry pelt.
Sunlight dapples across her hide as Cancer steps delicately through the forest, rich mica-flecked dirt melting away beneath neat hooves and neater strides: mismatched eyes waver across the landscape accompanied by a fluttering of deep-red lashes, a twist of the lips into the faintest of smiles with a flash of pearl-white teeth. Ears prick at the sound of a soft hoofstep ahead and she stops short, head raised and eyes wide and head tilted in elegant curiosity. Hello?
| Hidden Account |
| Mare :: Unicorn :: 16.3 :: 7 Buff: NOVICE |
|
Rhawon :: Siberian Tiger :: None
aeolle |
10-05-2013, 12:12 AM
(This post was last modified: 10-05-2013, 03:22 AM by Circuta.)
The wounded shade has returned to the place which brought her forth into this crazed abyss. The white general had
recruited her from this place, and the witch is determined to take her mind off current events by doing something
actually productive and finding a quarry with which to haul back to the world of spectral's she has come
to respect. She has not yet been healed, but she hopes that if she pretends
the burns across her flesh do not bother her, that her prey will not be too affected by it.
Children learn from the expressions and words of other's, after all. Perhaps it will do well to adhere to these
simple facts.
And as if the universe loves to toy with her, it is filled with hellish warmth. Was the God of Mischief - If there was, indeed, a God of Mischief - playing games with her?
Whatever the reason, she did not appreciate it. She is burned, so now, does he want to cook her? It frustrates her and she grimaces.
If it were not for the fact she aches, and the sun is trying to roast her alive, she would find the day wonderful. Sunlight dapples her metallic coat,
she is glad at least the werewolf's acid had not ridden her of her lovely heritage. It would be nice, still, to take a cool dip in a pond..
It is then that she hears her prey. Or, her prey, hears her, and thus interrupts her. She needs to concentrate more, being a noisy
spy isn't going to get you anywhere very fast. With a pause, she collects herself; forcing her grimace to turn slightly upwards into what she hoped was a kind
smile. Was her hair alright? A brief rush of panic as she pray's it is. It has to be, she takes immaculate care of herself when she is not
being burned to death. Burned to death? Ha ha! She was burned once! It was by a werewolf, has she told that story already?
Who is she even speaking to? Does one need a reason to speak to one's mind? It's their own mind, be damned the one's who cursed her for it.
This is why she adores the marsh. It is all insane, insane creatures with insane abilities and ghouls that rip the flesh of one's bones if they
are not careful. Pull, sink, drown, suffocation, it's all very nice she thinks.
Her steps begin again, a elegant brush of dark hooves against speckled earth. Violet's search, find, and lock unto their prey.
It's a lovely little childe, porcelain and slender as a dancer's build. Apparel the shade of strawberries and blood, to her joy. The tuft's of the femme are violent red,
gleaming in the newly birthed sun's light. Golden and blue, the orbs speak. And yet, with all her little bumps, a point is subtracted from the total score. The femme has no horn.
Then again, her blood queen has not one weapon, and she still respects her. Perhaps the little rose can grow into a thorn bush, do her people proud.
She slows to a halt near the rose, a wider smile spreading across her maw. Lyric's fall in sweet bursts, she is not letting the quarry escape. She hopes that her charm will do the trick, but she will lie if needed.
"Little rose, you have spread your leaves far into the forest. Have you lost your stem, my dear?"
CREDITS
tagged: @[Cancer]
VENOMXBABY : MIDNIGHTSTOUCHSTOCK
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| Hidden Account |
| Mare :: Unicorn :: 17hh :: 4 Buff: NOVICE |
| Sei |
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She could still hear Tharos' words resonating within her skull. 'Miss, I love ya,' he told her in that odd accent of his, using the rather irritating nickname. They had been running and she told herself she had misheard him, but there no no doubting it. He loved her, and she had ignored his blatant confession. She was an idiot, but honestly she wasn't sure how she felt. love was not something she was used to. It scared her. The only love she knew was the love she had found for her home with Apollo and the others, and she was determined to help it get stronger. For that, they needed members, for their group was small and though that made him close knit and personal, it also meant they lacked in bodies. It made them vulnerable. Still, she knew her warriors were strong; she herself was confident in her abilities to protect her home with everything, even if that meant her life.
The threshold was a familiar sight to the ivory mare as strong legs carried her swiftly toward the dense forest, mind focused only on the darkness in an accept to vanquish the thoughts that plagued her. Her time had been recently divided between frequent visits to the forest to search for lonesome souls, and patrolling the borders of her homeland. She knew others could take some of her duties, yet she suspected that few bothered the guard the Foothills from strangers. She felt oddly swamped, yet she did not mind. Her self appointed duties made her feel needed and, more importantly, kept her distracted.
The darkness embraced her yet despite months of perpetual gloom, she felt nervous. It was not that the shadows scared her, but that each night she was afraid the dawn would not come. Each morn, she would awaken at daybreak with a wide grin and a sigh of relief as the sun burst out in a thin orange strip across the horizon, casting long shadows over the land and painting her pelt with an auburn glow. Yet no matter how many sunrises and sunsets she saw, she still felt a pang of dread when only the moon and stars lingered in the ebony sky.
She moved with slow, steady steps until she heard words; two voices. A softly spoken 'hello', and the beautifully spoken words of a poet. Slipping through the darkness, her pelt contrasting the blackness like that of a phantom, she slipped through the undergrowth toward the pair. One was a beautiful dark pelted creature with markings that reminded her of the very same moon and stars that filled her heart with dread, and the other was a red roan with white painted pelt and striking crimson hair. Artemis raised her proud skull, her own red markings vivid upon her porcelain face. She was taller than both, and more muscular, yet she was a tame beast for the most part. She managed a meek smile toward the strangers. "Greetings. A lovely night, is it not? What brings you both here?" No doubt one was from a herd or an outcast group and the other a newcomer in all likelihood, but she had no way of knowing which was which, so she dipped her skull to both. "I am Artemis, General of the Windtossed Foothills. General. The word rolled of her tongue in an odd way. She was not yet used to the word, yet it gave her pride and as she spoke, she arched her muscular crest.
speech speech speech speech speech
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The nervousness in her chest is a demon, it binds and wraps itself around the shred-remains of her heart. There is a squinting of her eyes, careful and strikingly coloured under her thick lashes and suspiciously fearful, silent and anxious. Her muscles are coiled under strawberry skin, petite frame clenching and unclenching as slender limbs step back and forth, cut deep scores into the damp soil beneath. Thin sprouts of green are crushed beneath her feet as Cancer raises her head, breathes deep in an effort to calm herself down: she screws her eyes shut, inhales, exhales. Pearly-white teeth grit under the darkness of her lips and with a heavily forced sigh a curl of smoky breath escapes her, twisting sluggishly through the too-humid air.
Cancer's head tilts with an elegant curiosity as she listens with fevered intensity to the soft, plodding hoofsteps of her unseen company. Silken reddish curls shift across her shoulder as her limbs twist and curve, she turns to face the shape that emerges out of the darkness with a hardened gaze and the faintest curl of her lips. For a moment she cannot contain the surprise that coils in her vein as she observes the mare in front of her, eyes wide and unsettled as they land on the spiraling horn that curls from the woman's forehead; then her shock fades into a dull throb and an apologetic smile flashes pearly teeth as her head lowers sheepishly and an almost unnoticed blush flames in her cheek. For a mere second she is left staring at the ground, and then with a stiffening conscience she looks up again. little rose, you have spread your leaves far into the forest. have you lost your stem, my dear?
She breathes. Slowly, but she breathes with a soft exhale and a wavering smile. Indeed, miss, i am a long way from home. She whirls to look at the next face that appears, mismatched eyes flashing over the bright-red marking and the curving horn on her new company. Greetings. A lovely night, is it not? What brings you both here? I am Artemis, General of the Windtossed Foothills. Her smile quivers but it does not disappear and then it strengthens as she steels her will; merely wandering, perhaps too far.
| Hidden Account |
| Mare :: Unicorn :: 16.3 :: 7 Buff: NOVICE |
|
Rhawon :: Siberian Tiger :: None
aeolle |
The rose appears startled by her, by the crown that adorns her dome. The smile upon her maw does not waver, though she wonders of the little rose's homeland.
It must have been far from this place, far from her kingdom, for even she knew of the different growths equines could sprout from birth. A bemusing thought sparked her mind, what would be the rose's reaction when she saw the winged breeds? It caused gentle laughter to bubble up from her throat, though the cawing was more of a unseen tremor through her bones. The rose's dome lowers in apologetic shame, a tentative smile curves the femme's maw. The lightest of blushes spreads her cheeks, an slow exhale and inhale of breath.
As she expects, the little rose says she is far from her home. She begins to reply to the rose's words, when a tall frame of another enters
the circle of her mind.
Her orb's drape easily across the silver moon, across the well-built and strong figure. The height is impressive, but she is not startled by her
appearance. It would be easier to stab her weaponry into her chest, if the new moon offered her and her quarry a threat. She continues to observe the figure,
the twenty second letter of the alphabet is marked with bloodied red across her face, her maw opens to reveal herself as the lunar huntress, the maiden of the moon.
the general of the windtossed foothills, she introduces herself, and her heart hums in distaste. does she wish to steal her quarry from her? it is likely, and yet she restrains her irritation at the presence of the maiden. at least she has weaponry that strikes from her dome, at least.
her lyrics spill forth from her maw, elegant cloaked darkness with a sweet edge.
"the day is young, huntress, though i am certain the night shall be blessed."
her dome turns, orbs facing the little rose once more. her pose remains regal,
and yet the gracefully curving neck slips downward, so that she may feel more comfortable in their midst.
she does not lower herself to the little rose's height entirely, she cannot, but she hopes the gesture
shall win her some small amount of favor. lyrics again spill into the air, smooth and sweet as honey. they are tantalizing whispers,
beckoning the rose to stay by her side.
"I may bestow knowledge upon you, then, my little rose. you have come across the land of helovia,
a tangled vine of the magical and the mundane. the threshold of this land is where you stand now,
a place where all newcomers come as a creek from a lake. outside of this place, strike four main kingdom's.
the dragon's throat, the world's edge, the windtossed foothills, and the aurora basin. i would recommend that you stay far from the basin,
least you wish to cut your existence in this world short. they are not so tolerate as we of the existence of those without horns upon their domes.."
her lyrics fade, as she allows the little rose to absorb her knowledge.
"i am circuta, seeker of the asylum. fret not, despite our title, we seek not harm upon you, but a place for you to deem home. a sanctuary that cannot be broken into, we are well fortified, and though we are not part of the mainland, i think you shall find we offer all that i am sure the maiden artemis wishes to give in speech to you. a home, nourishment, protection.." dark orbs glitter, constellations being woven by the second in her words. the last gentle thrum of her voice is a statement, a morsel.
"a family, little rose. a family."
CREDITS
tagged: @[Cancer] @[Artemis]
VENOMXBABY : MIDNIGHTSTOUCHSTOCK
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| Hidden Account |
| Mare :: Unicorn :: 17hh :: 4 Buff: NOVICE |
| Sei |
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Artemis managed a smile toward the smaller equine, dipping her thorned crown in a sign of respect. She did not speak for some time, as it was the night sky mare who was filling the since with her words. Artemis found her voice oddly calming yet she twisted her head slightly to the side, confused. The mention of the asylum made her muscles tense up defensively, yet her reaction was not nearly so noticeable now that she had met Arlo. Yet what confused her was exactly what Arlo had said. That the Asylum had certain requirements that needed to be fit in order to join, yet as she looked over the pretty little mare she saw nothing different about her than she had seen with Parelia.
So, she stepped forth a single step, but closer to he pair than the mare liked. As Artemis always put it; contact and closeness were for war, not peace. "Forgive me if I am wrong, Circuta, but I thought there were requirements for joining your family. I met a stag named Arlo who told me this, though he never actually told me what these requirements were." She admitted. Honestly, she half wanted to simply know the answer to that question, half wanted to prevent the little mare from joining a group she had no right joining.
But maybe this mare did fit whatever requirement that there was? She glanced toward the pretty thing with a faint smile. "Where are my manners? Circuta here is correct in assuming I am looking for new recruits. I offer a safe home defended by myself and my loyal warriors. Our leader Apollo is a kind soul, known as the Merciful. He is my brother in spirit, and we welcome all to join into our family as brothers and sisters both." She glanced toward the black mare, keeping herself on guard. Something about the Asylum rubbed her the wrong way. Maybe she was wrong in that feeling. Maybe her gut was telling her some truth she did not yet understand.
speech speech speech speech speech
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CANCER CAPRICEUX:
cancer || four || equine || strawberry roan || left eye amber, right eye blue
the best kind of love eats you from the inside out:
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No longer does Cancer hold her breath, whatever fear she had possessed has whirled with a hiss and a snarl into the void surrounding; for the strawberry girl has realized in a blinking of deep-red lashes that either the two forms in front of her are the demons she so fears or angels scaring off whatever was left of her devils. It is clear in the spinning of her thoughts that here she will die or thrive, and it is clear as well she has either nothing to fear or everything, and that, also, is up to her.
She locks her limbs in place, gazing serenely at the two women ahead of her, even if her eyes can’t help but flicker once every so often to the wide, spiraling horns. Breath streams from her nares in long, lilting curls, a soft whisper of grayish smoke that emerges from her in a hotly twisting thread; at the sight of flickering shadows and sunlight dappling across her company’s skin, the girl relaxes ever so slightly, deep red curls swishing behind her but her gaze calm and open. Her chest is brittle with anxiety but the visibility has faded; Cancer’s eyes are curious and wondering, but no longer does she reek of fear and nervousness and dirt. Take a deep breath, your lungs fill with rain.
i may bestow knowledge upon you, then, my little rose. you have come across the land of helovia, a tangled vine of the magical and the mundane. the threshold of this land is where you stand now, a place where all newcomers come as a creek from a lake. outside of this place, strike four main kingdoms. The strawberry girl tilts her head curiously at Circuta, rolling her shoulders back into a tight triangle as her teeth settle on her lip and ears prick forward in interest. Helovia. A long, slow breath whistles through her teeth as she rolls the word across her tongue and lets her company’s lecture settle in - seep through her skin, her muscle, her bones.a home, nourishment, protection.. family, little rose. a family. The word sets her teeth on edge, curls the edges of her dark lips into an invisible snarl - a snarl only to her, it is shown as a smile. Home, she hates the word, she loathes it with an unmanageable passion but she contains it just this once, and her snarl, to them, is a smile. Peaceful, undisturbed.
She says nothing; where is her need for words when all is said and done? She listens with silent intensity as Artemis does exactly as Circuta predicted, gaze shifting languorously to the ground beneath her feet, up again to squint into the sunlight shards. Our leader Apollo is a kind soul, known as the Merciful. He is my brother in spirit, and we welcome all to join into our family as brothers and sisters both. Nostrils flare ever so slightly as Cancer breathes deep once more, tail swishing thoughtfully behind her in a stream of windswept curls. "and i am supposed to decide?" A pregnant pause, eyes narrowing. who are you?
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| Hidden Account |
| Mare :: Unicorn :: 16.3 :: 7 Buff: NOVICE |
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Rhawon :: Siberian Tiger :: None
aeolle |
Warm indigo orb's flickered over to the huntress, listened with pricked harks and gently swaying
stance to the lyrics that filtered as rain water into her mind. The huntress seems to be wary of her,
and this both pleases and displeases her. The Asylum is her home, and any speech against turns her wine
sour and her tongue bitter. It displeases her, too, that the femme is so tensed by her presence.
She seeks no harm to befall the mistress, seeks no bloodshed on this eve.
And yet, she is hunted, not with bloodshed, but with a judging gaze of ice.
A gentle hum echoes from her throat as she observes the huntress for a few seconds, before
making her reply in the peaceful, still air.
"Have I gone with haste to question the requirements, the secrets, the hidden words of your family? My dear Goddess of the Hunt,
it would be betrayal for me to whisper the roots of my people in the open. I seek no war with you, Goddess, but the forest
shelters the eager harks of those who wish only our downfall. It is best to speak lightly of such things, Goddess."
The lyrics are gentle, not harsh, spoken with due respect for the huntress. It is not a fight she seeks,
she hopes the Goddess may tell as such in her voice, in the depths of the pools situated upon her dome. These words are simply to make her realize how prying her question was, how it was not her place to ask such in-depth questions of her family.
And then her gaze slides back to the rose, observes her, quietly. The spy can appreciate silence,
she can appreciate it well. It is then so that she watches the girl with mere curiosity, awaits her lyrics
so that she may find a suitable response stored away into her cranium.
The girl does not disappoint. She questions, and so with a soft exhale of breath she speaks.
"You needn't rush with haste, little rose. Prying gazes may seek, but dare not attack with three,
well capable enemies to concern themselves with. Nor, little rose, must you choose
either of the places we have offered you with kindness. It is dangerous to roam
alone in the wild, with those who would slaughter you for your presence alone. Those that would slaughter you in more
ways then physical attacks, but with magic used as their puppet. I am sure you may see the perks, then, rose, of being in the midst
of family. The protection of a family, the vengeance that follows if you are harmed. I am certain the huntresses family offers the same.
It is your choice, but you need not rush."
It frustrates her she must speak so many words in such short time, yet she understands it is nescesary. Dark orbs switch back and forth
between the two. Steady, but twinkling with the stars in their depths.
She waits.
CREDITS
tagged: @[Cancer] @[Artemis]
VENOMXBABY : MIDNIGHTSTOUCHSTOCK
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