| Hidden Account atk: 5 | def: 8.5 | dam: 5.5 |
| Mare :: Equine :: 16.2hh :: 9 HP: 65 | Buff: NOVICE |
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Mongrel :: Common Kitsune :: Dark Illusions
wanda |
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Confutatis moves silently and slowly, towards the border of the hills tossed by the wind and the barren gray-and-white-tipped mountains. Since Seele's and Eris' stubborn refusal of her, and all she had to offer, she had disappeared from the dismal regions of the frozen swamp, heading north and keeping a careful eye on the child that grew and matured inside the confines of the egg. She carried it inside her mouth, checking it thoroughly for signs of damage, but it appeared her acid had no effect on the diamond-like shell. It had fared well, and with any hope the durability of the egg would transfer into the kitsune. Until now; for it was hatching.
It is hatching.
She watches in oblivious fascination as the charcoal egg rocks back and forth, the shell gleaming in the dull light. A low, resounding crack splits the air as a fissure runs along the obsidian, black on black. Yellow drips from within, pale pearls coalescing on the sharp red-tinged fracture. Reaching out almost delicately, the mare's teeth close around the shell, her muzzle wagging slowly back and forth, shaking the egg. Within, the yolk is sloshing around, the life fluids of which nurtured the little something during all its early weeks slowly beginning to spill out over the black earth as the tiny child pushes against its restraints.
A cruel jagged smile lights her cracked lips, a savage grin, a malicious and feral baring of yellowed teeth.
It slops out of the egg ungracefully, a small and weak child, pathetic and mewling. Just as she, it is charcoal, toned with the miserable grays of soot and ash, with a fleck of white upon its chest. It's face is little more than a scrunched up ball of fat flesh and thick folds of black fur, it's ears nubs on it's head; it is nothing more than a fat worm, with stubby legs and a tiny tail, claws scarce. Pathetic, she thinks, her jaws opening, maw expanding, prepared to swallow the useless gift. A drop of sizzling acid falls from her calloused mouth, a hot tear of burning poison, of which falls upon the narrow head of the squirming creature. She watches in silence as it squeaks piteously, crying out weakly, reminding the heartless monstrosity of a mare of her own birth, her own descent into shadow.
Flickering into life comes the presence of it, and Confutatis' lips curl in disdain and it's weakness; but her eyes are curious, almost admiring, at the ardent ferocity for life burning hot and heavy in the kitsune's heart.
She whispers unaudibly, and picks up the child swiftly, placing it upon her wide back. It screeches as her poison jaws close down on soft flesh, but there is no pity nor remorse in the mare's heart. The mongrel is lucky enough to live another few hours, with this bitch slowly connecting their minds; the kitsune is blessed to live with scars instead of death.
Within the next two hours, they reach the border of the Foothills, the distant clamor of the waterfall faint in her ears. The sun descends on its path, a pale eye, turning the world into a palette of pale golds and leafy greens, the time before sunset but when the shadows grow long.
On the border she waits for someone to meet her.
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| Deceased |
| Mare :: Pegasus :: 15.3 :: 6 Buff: NOVICE |
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Stella :: Secretary Bird :: None
Aud |
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'Cause even the stars they burn
Some even fall to the earth</style>
The lands of the Foothills seemed to carry more weight, as the new responsibility of her position had begun to sink in. No longer did the hills and valleys of the Foothills linger gently upon her mind - but instead called to her with a lively force and vivacity that demanded she take notice of them. These lands, and all those inside, were now her responsibility.
Starsheen gently twinkled in her mane as she moved easily through the lush grasses. Her creamy locks bounced gently against long, and lean muscles, as she strolled - wings tucked neatly against her sooty sides. High above, Stella, her secretary bird companion flew - deciding to spread her wings and soar, rather than ride on her companion's back. Phaedra on the other hand, had decided to walk - there were so few pegasi in the Foothills, most were ground-bound. And while she was just fine with their current demographics, as a new lead, she felt slightly forced into walking more than she normally would have.
Border. Someone there. Stella mentally called, banking to the right to fly over Confutatis. With an unhurried gate, Phaedra moved towards the border, specifically to the area that Stella had indicated. Her magic bubbled up within her chest, causing her whole body now to sparkle and shimmer, as if she was lit from within, by the light of the heavens. As the trees gently gave way, the dark equine came into view. Phaedra's oddly-patterned wings spread slightly from her sides - allowing the warm air to circulate against her flanks. Her flirtatious gaze washed over the scarred mare as she approached, halting within the confines of the Foothills.
"Well hello there, sugar." Phaedra greeted in her typical flirtatious drawl. Above, Stella was mentally reporting images of the mare from all angles - included the new-born companion upon her back. Electricity dully sparked from Stella's wings as she flew, ready to assist her bonded should this meeting go south. "What brings you to the Foothills?"
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Image Credits
 HP: 45.5
| Hidden Account atk: 5 | def: 8.5 | dam: 5.5 |
| Mare :: Equine :: 16.2hh :: 9 HP: 65 | Buff: NOVICE |
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Mongrel :: Common Kitsune :: Dark Illusions
wanda |
10-20-2013, 11:50 AM
(This post was last modified: 10-20-2013, 11:51 AM by Confutatis.)
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On her back the Mongrel stirs, nubs of ears twitching. For a while it will be blind and deaf, ignorant to the world. In a strange way, Confutatis is jealous of its oblivion; but just because she wishes for sciolism does not mean her ears are full of cotton and her good eye has cataracts. She is attentive, not asleep, for the woods are full of hiding places. The dark mare's nostrils flare, a scent coiling in her muzzle she does not know, the smell of cold mountains and sweetness of flower blossoms. Above her ears catch sound of wing-beats on the air, and from the shadows in the forest comes forth a woman, no doubt a harlot and whore, a slut to boot; a lithe sylph, all voluptuous curves and swinging hips, with massive wings like those of an owl, a breed of which Confutatis does not know and neither does care. Coal lashes glisten, seductive eyes glow with the color of the ocean, and stars sparkle in the tramp's mane, her coat sparkling with silver and gold.
And from those full, pouty lips comes a voice sweet and thick as honey, a slow syrupy drawl that has a bright note of flirtation to it. The bestial mare feels more feral by the moment, compared to this civilized wench- she is scarred and wild and weathered, while this pegasus is untouched (except for her virginity) and cultured and youthful.
"I come bearing information of the Asylum, an outcast group of the marsh, and seek membership of the Foothills. I am a soldier of countless battles and a veteran of war, and believe I may be a valuable asset." Confutatis bares her teeth in a savage grin more akin to a snarling dog than anything else, but her ears do not pin. They call me traitor, I'll be their traitor, she thinks to herself coldly. On her back, the whelp shivers from the waves of rage assaulting the newborn's mind.
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| Deceased |
| Mare :: Pegasus :: 15.3 :: 6 Buff: NOVICE |
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Stella :: Secretary Bird :: None
Aud |
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'Cause even the stars they burn
Some even fall to the earth</style>
The perhaps disdainful looks of the newcomer go unnoticed by Phaedra - or perhaps she simply does not care. Likely the latter, in fact. She was a creature valued by men, and in so far as that was true, she was often hated by women. She cared little - she had her one friend, perhaps two - although she hadn't seen Lakota for ages now - but regardless, she didn't need the reverence and acceptance of each mare she met, as some did. Nay - she merely needed their respect, should they wish to enter her lands.
Tilting her rose-kissed muzzle upwards slightly, she regarded Confutatis now with a serious stare, as she mentioned the Asylum. It was a group already known to Phaedra - to all of the Foothills, actually. They had, through torturous methods, found out about the contract that was struck between the Foothills and the Basin, even before the Invasion of the Edge. It made Phaedra bristle, just to think of such an agreement, but nevertheless, it would prove useful should this Asylum decide to leave their marshes. "I know of the Asylum, already. But bringing news of a possible enemy, does not make you a friend -" Her speckled gaze washed over the dark mare's' battle-hardened body with a tantalizing interest, before gently returning to her gaze. "-no matter how fierce a warrior you are. I would know your intent in joining us, sugar. And how it is you came to know about the Asylum?"
In the air, Stella circled lower, and lower, until her body lightly landed upon Phaedra's. Stella's bright orangey-yellow face peered around her bonded's wither with interest - electricity still crackling around her brilliantly white wings. "I am Phaedra. Chieftess of the Foothills. And you?"
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Image Credits
HP: 45.5
| Hidden Account atk: 5 | def: 8.5 | dam: 5.5 |
| Mare :: Equine :: 16.2hh :: 9 HP: 65 | Buff: NOVICE |
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Mongrel :: Common Kitsune :: Dark Illusions
wanda |
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Mongrel shivers on her back, despite the warmth of Tallsun. The mare turns her head, extending her neck out to brush her muzzle along the quivering body of the tiny kitsune, frosty concern glittering in her eyes. It is a tiny animal, so unlikely to survive- she prays it will grow swiftly and strengthen faster. Then she pulls her head away, turning her single, amber-eyed gaze back to the coy mare, tilting her skull thoughtfully.
They size each other up, curiosity glittering in the pegasus' eyes along with a sort of gentleness the daughter of Oblivion is unaccustomed to. Her own eyes betray nothing- they are hard, cold, but tired.
"I pledged loyalty to the Asylum, and was seized later by an enemy party. When I was in captivity, they made no effort to free me, and it was only through the help of my half-sister did I manage to escape without further harm." The skull-faced mare states quietly, her voice tinged with a bitter angst at the betrayal of them. "When I returned, they accused me of desertion. I left, capriciously and impulsively, and harbor no kind feelings towards them any longer- they should not have my oaths when they do not uphold their end. My intention in joining you is to serve the Foothills to the best of my ability, and, Lady Empyrean, have someone to hold my back in turn. A wolf should not be without her pack."
The villain blinks slowly, letting her lids drift shut, savoring the victory she can feel close at hand. Look at her, acting humble- acting normal- hiding away the treasonous thoughts and eccentric speaking habits she has acquired throughout the long desolate years.
When she opens her eyes again, Phaedra is speaking, but her amber eye is drawn towards the bird surrounded by electricity. No doubt a companion- but what kind of bird was of such unusual appearance?
"Lady Empyrean, Chieftess Phaedra, I am Confutatis."
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| Deceased |
| Mare :: Pegasus :: 15.3 :: 6 Buff: NOVICE |
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Stella :: Secretary Bird :: None
Aud |
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'Cause even the stars they burn
Some even fall to the earth</style>
Phaedra cannot but help to sense something amiss. It would be too bold to call the Asylum their enemy - they had not advanced against them, nor had any threats been made, and yet the Foothills were guarded against them. Perhaps it was misguided prejudice. Perhaps they could all amalgamate into one herd, and leave the fighting for another day. But perhaps, all was not what it seemed. Was this story true? Was Confutatis now coming to the Foothills, as an act of defiance? Were her motives spurned by the rejection of a herd that would not take her? Or perhaps was this merely some mission - to infiltrate the Foothills, and glean what information she could, to prove herself to the Asylum?
It was times like these, that Phaedra truly felt the void of Ophelia's presence. Ophelia with her frosty gaze, and her magic. Phi would know what to do...
Mentally, Stella shrugged, sensing Phaedra's indecision. The bird was not as hasty to judge as her companion, but remained wary nonetheless. "Betrayal is a powerful emotion, sugar. Just as you would not pledge your allegiance to those would not stand by you, nor will we stand for any harm to come to our own. If you wish to join us, I will grant you passage into the Foothills, and in that, I guarantee that you will never be left un-supported, as long as you are with us."
The magic in Phaedra's breast stirs before releasing - causing the sheen that encompasses her sooty form to slowly diminish, until it is only her mane and tail that glisten with stardust. Sweeping a wing aside, she pivots inwards. "Your companion will need food, I take it?" Chuckling to herself, she nosed towards Stella. "I remember when she was newly hatched. They take more care at that age."
Moving into the lands, Phaedra looked back towards Confutatis; the dark mare with an even darker look, and hoped that she had not just invited death into their lands. "You may remain unranked, or choose to specialize. I assume perhaps warrior might suit you better than shadow, sugar? But you need not decide now."
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Image Credits
HP: 45.5
| Hidden Account atk: 5 | def: 8.5 | dam: 5.5 |
| Mare :: Equine :: 16.2hh :: 9 HP: 65 | Buff: NOVICE |
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Mongrel :: Common Kitsune :: Dark Illusions
wanda |
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She awaits her verdict in taciturn silence, seeing no point in babbling in hopes to gain the mare's acceptance. Her reasons will be either good enough, or they will not pass. There is no middle ground, and the Queen of Skulls, as she calls herself, will not bother creating more lies in hopes to sway her argument.
Of course, Confutatis cannot read Phaedra's mind, cannot decipher what no doubt is locked away within- but if she could, she would laugh, for her motives, as always, are for herself.
While Phaedra speaks, the tension seeps from her tight body, but nonetheless the skull-faced mare does not quite wholly relax until they begin to move, and only then does she offer replies.
"I accept your terms; don't worry, I have no intention of leaving your herd." With fascination, Confutatis watches as the incandescence fades from Phaedra's skin, leaving only her voluminous mane and tail sparkling. It appears they have struck their peace, however uneasy and however wary of one another they may be, and for that Confutatis is grateful. She need not worry so much anymore. Now she could but bide her time, hone her skills with the other warriors and practice the games of battle until she was ready and the time was ripe.
"The fox will need food, and I will deliver it when need be." Perhaps it is unwise of the vicious mare to turn down what she takes to be an offer and promise of help if so desired, but she will forge this bond alone, however difficult killing may be. "A position of warrior would perhaps better suit me." Confutatis admits, a razor grin curling at her lips.
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| Deceased |
| Mare :: Pegasus :: 15.3 :: 6 Buff: NOVICE |
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Stella :: Secretary Bird :: None
Aud |
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'Cause even the stars they burn
Some even fall to the earth</style>
Phaedra nods diplomatically - although it does not come easily. She is still learning the ways of this new title, and often reminds herself to bite her tongue, than be flirtatious. She is unsure how to take the mare's mention of finding food for the kit herself, and decides to ignore it. Likely, the mare's scars did not come from asking for favors from strangers.
"A warrior you shall be. Welcome to the Windtossed Foothills. The chief of these lands is Apollo - he oversees our Medics. In turn, I oversee the Intelligence ranks. As a warrior, you shall report to Artemis and Murdock - our generals. But who knows, sugar?" She quipped, hips languidly moving through the lush grasses. "Maybe one day that position will suit you as well?"
"There is a pool in the heart of the hills -" she continued. "It is there that our story teller can communicate with the God of the Earth - patron God of these lands - but it also provides a convenient source of refreshment. You are free to do as you please, though I assume the generals will want to speak with you, once you are settled." Pausing, wings folded neatly to her lithe flanks once again, she titled her head with a light inquisitiveness. "I'll leave you two alone then, sugar. Unless there's anything else you need?"
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Image Credits
HP: 45.5
| Hidden Account atk: 5 | def: 8.5 | dam: 5.5 |
| Mare :: Equine :: 16.2hh :: 9 HP: 65 | Buff: NOVICE |
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Mongrel :: Common Kitsune :: Dark Illusions
wanda |
10-20-2013, 03:40 PM
(This post was last modified: 10-20-2013, 03:47 PM by Confutatis.)
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The seraph's head dips gracefully, taking the cold refusal politely enough. Confutatis wonders briefly how Phaedra had come to power- perhaps it was a favor from a stallion who had bedded her down for the night. Certainly it did not arouse from a victory on the battlefield... would she be a mare who could retain her title, vanquish any who dared to challenge this Chieftess? Inwardly she shrugs. Those delicate bird bones couldn't hold up to any serious damage for long.
Upon mention of generals, the hellion stiffens, step stuttering momentarily. Who is this mare? Was she a reader of minds alongside her being a pretty whoreish face? "Who knows, maybe it will come even sooner than you think," she says dryly, and honestly enough. And for good measure, she takes the precaution of actually trying to remember the names of the generals- Artemis and Murdock.
They won't be generals for long.
They proceed to a halt, Phaedra offering her last few words. Another mare might have thanked her profusely for her trouble. Instead of bothering herself with such trivial courtesies, Confutatis inclines her skull towards the Chieftess, and the bone plates of her armor begin to appear, lining her scarred body in the skeletons of dead warlords. "I owe you a favor. Call for me when you need it."
With that, she turns, setting off into the forest, ready to familiarize herself with her new home. Truth be told, she had not expected it to be so easy- she had very nearly waltzed in. There had been no excessive questioning, no spar demanded over her to try her battle strength. All she had had to do was... well, walk in and state her want.
Of course, there was still the problem of the Asylum. Eris and Seele would need to pay for her humiliation, for their crass mannerisms.
And they would pay, Confutatis was sure of it.
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[O] the weak and the strong, the teeth and the victim
