| Hidden Account |
| Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.1hh :: 13 |
| Shoikan |
Slaiter
Searchers after horror haunt strange, far places.
-H.P. Lovecraft
It is Orangemoon, and the ghoul is returning. He doesn't quite understand why he has come back to Helovia, but here he is, weaving through the obstacles of the forest at an easy trot, black eyes nervously scanning for any who may pose a threat. True, the horses he met in this land seemed much more accepting of his odd behavior, but he suspects that there are many more here who would condemn him just as countless others have, and so he remains wary. Besides, they have magic in this realm, and just because he's paranoid doesn't mean there's not someone invisible waiting for him to do something wrong. No, he will be cautious and careful, and if he's very lucky and very clever he may be able to return to the marsh he once called home.
Of course, these plan are immediately forgotten the moment he catches the scent of something dead.
He stands still for a moment, determining the direction of the faint breeze before continuing on, adjusting his course to lead to where he believes the treasure to lie. It does not take long to find, despite being little more than old bones, and Slaiter is delighted to see he has discovered yet another 'friend'. Something smallish, he notes, a raccoon or possum maybe. Too large for mouse, rat, or squirrel, and not the right shape for fox. Pleased by his deductions, he prances in place for several moments before snatching up a jawbone in his mouth, careful of both its teeth and his own.
Feeling much more confident with his prize, he resumes his journey, cantering merrily down a deer path with little care for the rest of the world. After all, no invisible being had leapt forward to punish him for bone-stealing, and if he runs fast he can get to the marsh much sooner. Maybe he'll even find all of his old friends there, the bits and pieces of old skeletons he had so carefully dredged up from the murky, mucky mud. Yes, Slaiter decides, he will look for them first, and if his beloved hoard is missing, well, there are many more bodies to be found! He will make new friends!
The thought of encountering a living creature doesn't even cross his mind.
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| Aurora Basin Medic atk: 5 | def: 9 | dam: 5.5 |
| Mare :: Unicorn :: 15.2hh :: Six Years | Birdsong HP: 63 | Buff: NOVICE |
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Phrixus :: White Raven :: None
Psilo |
01-17-2014, 05:36 PM
(This post was last modified: 01-17-2014, 05:37 PM by Tangere.)
The herd of pegasus are not here, they're guiding her to the Sanctuary (:
 She’s following the pegasus’ (pegasi?) She can hear them far off, the beating of their wing strokes pushing and propelling them. For a moment, while she runs, she ponders the thought of perhaps the same feathered appendages adorning her broken silver patterned body. The hint of smile toys with the left edge of her mouth, something that hasn’t happened since she was chased away from her home and then chased again from the Endless shores…
Helovia was folding and ever since the start of its unraveling, Tangere has been wound in the web of undead chaos right along with it. The land still breathes, she is not dying. She is laughing. And wherever those Gods of theirs [Helovians] are, they’re probably not laughing. We’ve tried to harvest, contain and control her [Helovia] and she is not impressed. She’s pushing back – seeping her magic into our veins [Helovians], and taking what she wants from us; as if to say: ‘ Hey you little fucks, I’m still stronger than you and I always will be. Just a reminder, mmk?’
And Tang isn’t about to deny that she’s absolutely correct. Nothing like the wrath of scorned earth…
Sweat foams at its usual spots, gnarled in her medium length Orangemoon coat which appears tatters and dirty. Her legs are caked in mud; the plume of hair covering her ankles is in thickened strands of packed dirt and moisture. Her body is numb to the exhaustion; fear and adrenaline – shock – are now manning the ship. It feels as though she’s been running for days, stopping only to meekly hope for help, most of which is utterly denied to her. No matter though, the list of names will still be engrained in her mind once the darkness clears…if she survives to see it do so, that is.
She’s moving down over a hill and nearly collides with the stallion with a mouthful of mystery bones. She takes no notes on him at first, looking down after stumbling to a skidding stop. “ Sor –” Her dark eyes flick upward and settle on his face, rain conveniently begins to mist over them; light drops seemingly float between her gaze and him. His horn catches the light like glass, the beads of rain glittering as it travels slowly down the sharp bone and onto his forehead. Slowly her face contorts into a bright, childish grin, as if seeing a long lost love or relative after many years.
He is not a lover, a relative or a comrade from the past – he is a complete stranger. But this stranger has horn…and that.. THAT makes him blood.
“ Hello there.” Her voice is eerily calm for what a hot mess she currently is. Her panting has cooled to light controlled breaths, her ribcage still expanding fairly dramatically but otherwise she doesn’t appear as winded as she really is. “ Do you know what’s happening right now?” She steps closer and fixes her posture so it doesn’t look like a cat that just fell from a tall tree. “ In this land…do you realize what you’ve just walked into, my friend?” this is more than she’s spoken to a stranger in a long long time. Her voice chimes almost softly, but with a pinch of shrillness to it, “ We’re fighting for our lives here.” She exhales and directs her eyes to a recent commotion in the distance, Tangere knows it’s the sound of someone’s violent metamorphosis into a monster, but remains quiet of the fact. She smiles a little wider, the feature looking and feeling completely foreign to her, staring at him with her head slightly tilted to one side.
CARS CAREENING FROM THE CLOUDS
BRIDGES BURST AND TWIST AROUND..
AND WANTING SOMETHING WARM AND MOVING |
she's going to try and ask him to join the basin and come along with her to the sanctuary, hope that's ok <3
- You may use violence and magic against her at will, but no death.
- Please tag me so I don't forget anyone(:
| Hidden Account |
| Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.1hh :: 13 |
| Shoikan |
Slaiter
Searchers after horror haunt strange, far places.
-H.P. Lovecraft
He shields violently to the side as she appears, just barely avoiding her charge. His first instinct is to run, leap away from this violent girl and loose himself in the trees. True, these trees are widely spaced, and the ground is firm beneath his hooves, very different from his dark, mossy bogs, but he is fast. She would not catch him, not in her battered condition, and he does not care that she is beautiful, nor does he understand her half-spoken apology, having never really received one before.
It is the rain that stops him, and her expression afterwards that stills his skittering feet. A sign, he thinks, and maybe she's a rain spirit. Why such a being should be glad to see him, the monster boy, he doesn't know, but she is, he can tell from her eyes and her smile, and so he offers a smile back, not minding that the gesture is probably ruined by the jawbone he still holds.
She speaks to him, but he doesn't listen much to the words, instead focusing on her tone, the quiet chiming that only cements his odd theory. She is rain, and she has come to him and stayed. This lovely silver and white nymph has chosen his company, and he is proud. But, she almost seems to be warning him of something, and he doesn't understand what or why. Fighting, but against who? And why should he be bothered when he is a monster? Maybe she means that all the unnatural ones are being chased away, just like he has always been. His head tilts slightly in his confusion, and his thick tail begins to stir in mild agitation. Why are those like him always persecuted? They have done nothing wrong, and why would a rain spirit be hated too? Don't they like rain here? He doesn't know, but he decides he will stay, will fight to save the myths and demons from those who would see them dead.
He goes to voice this declaration, to promise his aid in this unjust war, but he is distracted. There is sound, a violent, horrifying sound, and Slaiter is thrilled. That is the sound of something not-right, a thing that Should-Not-Be, something like him. Ears prick eagerly toward the noises, and his hooves begin to dance again. Finally, he can belong, and he turns to the fae, thinking perhaps she will know who it is out there. She is smiling again, he notes, and surely she is just as pleased as he to find an ally. "Let's go see!"
No one ever claimed that the stallion was smart.
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| Aurora Basin Medic atk: 5 | def: 9 | dam: 5.5 |
| Mare :: Unicorn :: 15.2hh :: Six Years | Birdsong HP: 63 | Buff: NOVICE |
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Phrixus :: White Raven :: None
Psilo |
@[Slaiter]
In the moments when she is peering up at him the rain is only a slight pitter patter, falling almost weightlessly between them. The seconds freeze in time as their eyes meet something sparks and connects – if only she knew that for him, the spark was a phantasmal assumption of her, something that would flatter her inner child. She reaches out for him and touches an extended upper lip caress the edge of his cheek while he looks at her in response to what she’s told him. He doesn’t seem shaken and she simply cannot understand that. Can he not see the fear? Smell it? Hear it – feel it!? While she gazes at him the rain draws harder from the sky, falling heavier and faster. Her face drips with cold streams of rainwater, her eyes blinking the heavy droplets from her long black eyelashes.
That horrific noise booms like thunder and the stranger immediately averts his attention. She wanted to add to her warning from before, but she is cut off by his wildly excited eyes that find her once again. Her face furrows and her mouth contorts to a sort of frown, as if a mother a sick child she reaches out again with a prehensile lip to touch against his wet shoulder – as if to say ‘oh you poor crazy thing, let me help you stay alive’.
“Let’s go see!”
“ N-..No.” Her sweet, smooth voice is cracked and worn out, she struggles to urgently convey to him that he is wrong, very very wrong. Her eyes are large and the white brims of their dark middle show like glowing lights peaking through cracks. “ You’ve got to come with me or you will be one of them…” She is speaking so low it is most likely hard for him to hear. “ Come be with me and my clan – we’re of the mountains and valleys to the North.” She grunts as the woods behind her start to rustle and come alive with the currents of wind and rain pushing through the trees.
“ We have to go now!” She reaches out for a last time but doesn’t actually touch him, once her nose is close enough to perhaps touch his own nose she jerks away, pivoting in place and propelling toward the deer path leading out of the Threshold. Her feet slap and chop at the soft muddy earth beath her as she spins away from him, coming to a stop at the edge of the path. “ Come on!” She screams through the rain, it’s coming down sideways now; the wind is starting to howl louder and louder….and louder.
CARS CAREENING FROM THE CLOUDS
BRIDGES BURST AND TWIST AROUND..
AND WANTING SOMETHING WARM AND MOVING |
- You may use violence and magic against her at will, but no death.
- Please tag me so I don't forget anyone(:
| Hidden Account |
| Mare :: Equine :: 16 HH :: 5 years ~ Birdsong Buff: NOVICE |
| Wild. |
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Harsh rain pounds her, and she struggles to see. She is walking blindly through the Thresh when a soaking grey Unicorn almost collides with her. She inches backward a few steps, noticing the frantic trim in her voice... Or is that even frantic? Damn! Even someone with four harks couldn't hear through this rain. Abishia shakes her dome, small droplets dancing off the tips of her curly locks. It isn't long before she realizes that the Mare is none but her dear friend, Tangere!! Absihia nuzzles her shoulder with her maw without hesitation. Offering a wide smile, she moves out from in front of Tang, and spots someone else behind her. With her vision impaired, she can't tell what race the he is, but she just offers a kind hello and a friendly smile.
"Tangere! It's me, Abishia! I have missed you dearly. " Smiling wide again, she laughs calmly, despite the horrible grasp that Helovia is currently in. Although her spirits have faltered, the girl can still manage to somewhat happy... Or at least portray herself that way. "I'm glad to see you haven't been infected, princess. I see you have a newcomer with you, is that so? I know somewhere safe... " She flicks her maw to the direction of which she thinks the Sanctuary is in, then turns back to Tang, her voice now serious. "Does the Basin know of the Sanctuary and all the caverns? "
She then leans to her right, squinting. Trying to get a view of the newbie, she politely addresses him. "Oh yes, and welcome to Helovia. Sorry you have come at such a horrible time...
"Talk the talk.
@[Tangere] @[Slaiter]
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Image by Wild. || Table by Clo.
 
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please tag me in any and all posts
| Hidden Account |
| Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.1hh :: 13 |
| Shoikan |
Slaiter
Searchers after horror haunt strange, far places.
-H.P. Lovecraft
She touches him.
To most others this would be a minor thing, a simple gesture. To Slaiter, it is much more. The corpse-son has never been shown affection before, except from his dam, and the contact throws his mind into chaos. For twelve years he has been alone, shunned and hated, driven from every home he has tried to make. Yet, here is this maiden, not afraid, not repulsed, but kind and accepting. For a brief moment he forgets that he is the ghoul, the abomination, the grave robber. He is just Slaiter, just a lost, lonely boy looking for a friend, a home, anything besides rejection and hate.
Maybe he has found it.
But it seems that whatever is out in the trees is not a friend, for she is frightened, eyes wide and white, and this he understands. Fear is familiar, a reaction he often invokes in those who are not fighters, but it is not him she wants to flee from. She speaks, quiet and urgent, and though Slaiter doesn't know what is happening, he knows things are wrong, and she is offering to lead him away, presumably to someplace safe, and he cannot refuse, doesn't want to.
Then, with a final warning, she whirls away, racing toward the trail recklessly, wildly. Without thinking, he follows, leaping after as fast as he possibly can, not worried about slipping in the slick mud. It is nothing compared to the muck in his swamp, and here there are no vines to reach down and grab him, few tree roots to surge up and trip him. No, he thinks, this forest will not claim him, not the son of a witch. Besides, she will guide him, and surely she know what she is doing and where to go. They will make it, he thinks, and then he will learn whatever it is that he needs to learn, and fight whatever it is that needs fighting.
Come on, she calls, and he sprints to her side, shaking his sodden forelock from his eyes as he does so. "I am coming."
There isn't anything more to say.
Well, until another appears from the rain in front of them. Instinct and the rain spirit's warnings prompt him to flee from this unexpected stranger, but then they greet his companion. Uncertain of how to react, he dances in place nervously, looking to Tangere for guidance. Who is this other mare, and why is she talking about infection? Are horses getting sick? Maybe he should just go, retrace his steps until he has once again left Helovia. That would be the safe thing to do, the smart thing. Just run and run to the borders, cross those boundaries and never look back.
He, of course, doesn't choose that option.
Instead he stays, pressing close to his guide for comfort. The newcomer addresses him briefly, but he freezes at the sudden attention and doesn't say anything, shrinking back and futilely trying to avoid her notice. He cannot see her well in this storm, cannot smell her. and has no idea who she is. Of course, he doesn't know Tangere either, not really, but his mind never has been logical.
So he simply waits.
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| Aurora Basin Medic atk: 5 | def: 9 | dam: 5.5 |
| Mare :: Unicorn :: 15.2hh :: Six Years | Birdsong HP: 63 | Buff: NOVICE |
|
Phrixus :: White Raven :: None
Psilo |
01-22-2014, 07:40 PM
(This post was last modified: 01-22-2014, 08:11 PM by Tangere.)
@[Abishia], @[Slaiter]
When he collects himself behind her and his voice resonates in her ears it sends a warm feeling sinking into her wet, tired bones. She wants to touch him again but she knows it will only slow them down now; her focus is on their journey ahead. They have a lot of forest to wade through – and they must avoid wraiths. Her adrenaline is building once again, chasing off the warm fuzzies creeping in…if she had time to think she would be contemplating her sudden rush of fondness and comfort she’s found in the fawn colored unicorn beside her; but alas, she has no time for now and these things will have to be put off until she does.
Behind the slamming rain she hears clamoring – when her partner spooks she does the same, but mid-jump she is calmed instantly by the warmblooded touch of her friend Abishia. The filly’s painted face is barely visible, but as the streams of water run down both their faces Tangere takes a half-second to sport a genuine smile. It’s quickly erased though, by frustration, fear and franticness. She touches the filly’s shoulder, she’s unaware of anything she has said to her, “ Come now – with us – we’re going to a safe place.” She looks to Slaiter wondering if he hasn’t caught on that the filly is not harmful, she touches his shoulder again with an affection bump.
“ We have to GO, NOW!” She grabs at Slaiter’s long black hair, it’s soggy and matted down to his tan fur; she tugs gently at a chunk of it, pulling him toward the path. “ Abishia. Now.” She is cold and her soft voice is unusually sharp. She heads for the path at a full run. If they follow she will lead them through the dense trees and over the split river to the Heat of Helovia where Gaucho has left his Dreamcatcher to mark the spot of safety. She will lead them to the same dark corridor where the army of darkness cannot find them.
CARS CAREENING FROM THE CLOUDS
BRIDGES BURST AND TWIST AROUND..
AND WANTING SOMETHING WARM AND MOVING |
I'll post in the sanctuary for both of them.
Shoi, you'll have to wait to post in the Sanct until Slaiter is listed as a Basin Stallion.
I'll post for that update right away ^_^
- You may use violence and magic against her at will, but no death.
- Please tag me so I don't forget anyone(:
| Hidden Account |
| Mare :: Equine :: 16 HH :: 5 years ~ Birdsong Buff: NOVICE |
| Wild. |
| |
Abishia's orbs glaze over in confusion, not hearing a single word that Tangere said. Her breaths come rapid, knowing that around every corner could be a rotting beast drooling over their fresh flesh. The lively trio would defiantly be a target, the Wraiths knowing that they are alive, well, and ready to be bitten. Shivers are sent up Abi's spine as she remembers the countless rotten ones she has encountered. About five now? She sighs. The girl has lost count, but is still proud of the fact that she remains uninfected... When the crowned girl takes off at a sheer gallop, she waits for the Stallion to follow her, hoping that if a Wraith does attack, it would come from behind, sparing the lives of her dear friend Tangere and the newcomer that Abishia has not even seen yet. The rain blindfolds her, stinging into her coat at a vicious speed, soaking her to the bone. She takes up the back, galloping quietly behind the duo. Fright grips her as she runs through the dense forest, her most vivid sense stripped from her. Clumsily, she leads herself through the forest using only her scent and hearing. The long-legged filly is slower than usual, but manages to keep up with the Stallion and Tangere.
Her sides are heaving now, raindrops sticking to her short eyelashes and causing her great discomfort. Mud splashes up with her every step, sinking into her painted coat and making her look like a mosaic... And not a pretty one at that.
"Where are we even going?"
@[Tangere] @[Slaiter]
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Image by Wild. || Table by Clo.
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please tag me in any and all posts
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Going To A Party Where No One's Still Alive
