Lace the Silverthorn Posts: 459
| Deceased atk: 5 | def: 9 | dam: 5.5 |
| Stallion :: Equine :: 15.3 hh :: 14 HP: 65 | Buff: NOVICE |
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Fajira :: Plain White Dragon :: Fire Breath
Chan |
LACE
Who, in his mind,
has not probed the dark water?
What defines a man? A wise person once said that it is our actions that define who we are, that words and intent fade to nothing in the face of actual deeds. What becomes then of the one who always fail in his endeavors, who despite vows and vouches constantly found himself on the run, on the road, alone and without a hope of salvation? When pretty words crumble, when your best is not enough and everything you love fade into darkness... What is left to fight for?
Somewhere on a windswept northern field, a horse fall to his knees and stay down, unsure of whether he wants to get up again or not. He is tired, always so tired. Hunger gnaw at his entrails; it is a deep hunger, voracious and all consuming - yet he doesn't give in to it. If he did the beast would resurface again, arise in all its dark, greedy, destructive menace and he would be forced back into the shadows, reduced to nothing more than a thought at the back of a mind consumed by hunger and wrath.
It was cold. The wind wasn't blowing as hard now as it did before, the storm has settled for the time being but still the white expanse was adrift with migrating snow, constantly blowing back and forth as the wind changes direction. It piled up against his side, a blanket of pristine death that sucks the warmth right out of him. He wasn't built for this climate. Not this body, with its reptilian skin and thin limbs, hairless and emaciated. By rights he should be dead. How many times had he thrown himself into fire and water, tumbled beneath raging waves or leaped from the edges of cliffs with madness raging through the mind - only to awaken on a shore, on a rocky slope or a burned out glade, alive and in one piece? He wondered if it was part of the curse; to crave feed and flesh and devour it endlessly yet starve to death without dying, condemned to a life in solitude for the sake of those he had sworn to protect.
He was alone. A deep breath, half sob and so hollow it scorched the throat, wrecked the body. He was empty. So cold, so numb... so alone. Where was she, the light in the dark, the flame in the night, his hope and salvation? Where had she gone, as shadows rose to claim their home? The bond felt numb, distant and frozen and thin. No emotion seeped through the tendrils of connection, no argent thought demanding sanity and reason with crisp clarity echoed through the cavity of his self. She was gone, yet not dead. He didn't think she was, at least; something told him that he would know if her flame had been extinguished, and that alone was his sole comfort. She was alive - he had not failed her. Yet.
Ah, it was so cold. A mere thought would be all it took to drive away the cold, summon a diminutive relative of the sun to melt away the snow, stave off the night and keep the forces of nature at bay. Somewhere in the midst of madness and chaos the fire within had become familiar, friendly, an element not to fear but to respect and control. Once he might have celebrated, might have shown the steadily burning orb to a white dragon with pride and delight and let it hover over a gold-dusted whithers as they roamed a wintry forest, in search of a black mare and a golden dragon.
Now the thought only brought a grimace to cracked and chafing lips, pain reflecting from eerily glowing yellow eyes.
He didn't deserve the comforts of warmth and light. He who had failed one time too many deserved nothing, and the goddess of moon and darkness and wind had made sure to let him know that. Why else would she sweep her lands in darkness as soon as he stepped up to claim the throne, why else wouldn't she allow him to perish and be forgotten, just another carcass to rot and feed the earth and its creatures.
With a deep sigh the horse rolled over to the side and stretched out into the snow, long legs stretching out for a moment before sinking into relaxation. For some time the tainted creature stared up at the midnight sky, returning the blank stare of the stars while thinking of nothing, feeling everything... then he closed the eyes with a whisper and allowed himself to drift off, hoping that maybe this time it would not only be sleep that took him away.
"Fajira..."
ooc: open to anyone. He is a Wraith! so you might get infected. :3
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Credits
♦ Permission granted to use magic and violence on Lace and Fajira
♦ Only tag in new threads, spars and if it's urgent
The Store | The Warden
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There was something about the Frostbreath Steppe that lured Adele to it. Perhaps it was the fact that she looked so out of place in the land, her flaming hair a startling contrast against the ivory flurries. Or that Vera looked so at home amongst the snow. Her bodice was pale, shiny and smoothy, letting her blend all too easily with the condensation. She was out of her element, being a firebreathing dragon, but at first glance appeared to be a natural part of the frozen plains.
Not to mention how deserted the land was. It was soothing to be alone, the only comfort in her isolation being her own thoughts, occasionally Vera's. Although at the moment the milky reptile was attempting to hunt.
Adele had told the dragon she wouldn't find anything, this land was just about dead. Vera pressed on, determined to find something, anything. The mare laughed at the dragon's failures, for it was amusing to see her searches turn up utter defeats on her part. The dragon moved with the snow under the cover of the night, as far away from Adele as she could get without being out of sight. She burrowed under the snow, ivory eyes watching the area around her. The little reptile didn't move a muscle until she saw an arctic fox springing along the steppe for whatever reason. Of course, Vera pounced without hesitation. The fox was as large, if not larger than Adele's companion, so Vera ended up squealing and flapping eagerly away from the creature.
Adele rolled her eyes at her companion, turning away from the little dragon to watch the rest of the steppe's happenings. It was as serene as usual, seeming almost empty in the night.
Then her vision was consumed by a flash of red. Red for danger. Vera.
Adele swung her head around, panic starting to build within her. Where had Vera gone?! The mare broke into a gallop, wild eyes searching the steppe until they found their target. A little white dragon, her Vera, hovered a length away from some dark subject. Relief filled the mare as she moved at lengthy trot towards them, her panic dissipating, replaced by curiosity.
The mare figured the subject would be a horse of some sort, sprawled out upon the snow in exhaustion. That was not exactly the case. As she neared, she found that the being was nearly hairless, wings sprouting from it's bodice. Perhaps it was a pegasus' carcass they had stumbled upon. How eerie. A shiver went up Adele's spine at this thought, a feeling of dread overwhelming her.
'What is it?' Vera questioned as Adele came to a halt by the dragon. They were a few feet away from whatever it was, and neither of the fems dared to go any closer.
'I don't know.'
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Lace the Silverthorn Posts: 459
| Deceased atk: 5 | def: 9 | dam: 5.5 |
| Stallion :: Equine :: 15.3 hh :: 14 HP: 65 | Buff: NOVICE |
|
Fajira :: Plain White Dragon :: Fire Breath
Chan |
LACE
Who, in his mind,
has not probed the dark water?
It was a dream. Yes, that was it. A long, grueling nightmare that would leave him exhausted once he woke up, bleary eyed and with the head full of glum thoughts and hazy after-images of a world doused in darkness. He would open the eyes and gaze up at sun-kissed leaves as a warm summer sun burned the last of the mist away, yawn and stretch and feel the mellow breeze caress his skin like a lovers touch. For hours he would lie there by the foot of the tree, listen to the oceans sigh and breathe deeply the scent of warm earth, brine and lush greenery. Every now and then a familiar figure would pass by, grinning in merry mockery as he wasted the day away; he might change some words with them, let banter cheerful and warm-hearted fill the air along with the birdsong and chirping of dragons... And then, once the sun drew closer to the western horizon he would roll up onto his feet and slowly meander through the forest of green and gilded rays, to emerge onto the gray cliff just as the radiant orb touched the horizon. There he would remain as daylight slowly faded away, inhaling the cool ocean breeze and basing in the last golden light... until she came like a shadow from the depths of the realm, carrying night and moonlight with her. Star cloaked and fire eyed she would slip in beside him, a lady of darkness and illusion as fleeting and mysterious as the mirages of the desert. His shadowmare, his dragonhearted queen, the ruler of his heart, body and soul; she would turn to him with a smile and say something, her expression peaceful and gentle under the gleaming stars...
But as he tried to envision her face the picture started to fade. He tried to hold it together, piecing imagery and dream together time and time again... Tears burned behind closed eyelids as he gasped, unbearable pain clasping tightly around the chest as though a giants hand had closed upon it to choke him. How he wished it were true. How many times would he have to wake with crimson tears frozen upon his cheeks, half-mad and lost in dreams and fantasies of a time and place that would never come to happen?
Opening the eyes was painful. Ice had formed along the rim of the lids, frozen tears fusing them shut to keep reality away. He never got used to the shock of cold and dark that invaded the senses when the dreams faded; it was a kick in the gut, a slap across blackened cheeks that continued to punish him until finally he was allowed to drift off once more.
This time he didn't even get to be alone as he slowly, painstakingly dragged himself up on his feet.
What a sight it must be to behold. A creature from the lower levels of hell ascending onto this world, groaning and shrieking as it tore frozen flesh from the snow-covered ground. Droves of powdered snow slipped off the emaciated frame in heaps and chunks, unveiling the gruesome sight of hipbones and gnarled ribs, knotty knees and hocks spider-like in their skin dry flimsiness. He pitied them, having to witness as he slowly cracked broken bones and dislocated joints back in place, old injuries finally closing at a speed visible to the naked eye...
Would she run if he turned a nightmarish head around and looked at her with gleaming eyes, with forked tongue slithering slick and crimson along the jaws? Would she scream if he tried to speak, parting the maw that opened much too wide, only to disclose row upon row of razor sharp teeth more befitting a marsh-dwelling beast or dragon? Diminutive wings never meant to take flight flexed and stretched indecisively as he lingered in place with back turned, wisdom and care for her well being fighting against a deep, desperate craving for someone to talk to, for someone to pull close in a tight embrace, to hide away by and inhale the scent of. Oh how he longed for the fragrant skin of his lady to press against his flank, like it had once so long ago... If he could but reach out and touch this nameless child, find comfort in her gentle warmth and escape the dark and the cold, if he could but savor the taste of her skin upon his tongue, partake in the sensation of teeth digging deep into youthful flesh and let crimson fountains spring forth to slake the hunger and the thirst that clawed within the gut...
Without warning the creature flung its head into the air spun around, surprisingly nimble for something so seemingly close to death. With the deadly grace of a lizard it charged, drooling maw parting wider and wider in a vicious snarl, infectious liquids glistening and gleaming in deadly ooze upon the lips.
And in his mind Lace screamed in horror and protest, desperately struggling to regain his hold of the beast as it scrambled for freedom, blood-thirsty and starving in the presence of glorious prey.
"Run"
The single word held within it a world of sorrow and despair, of resignation as willpower proved too little and too late to conquer the madness of the disease. Maybe it would be enough to save the girl, the mortal flame who had braved the winter chill to stare down upon a lost soul - maybe he wouldn't have to carry the burden of her death upon his shoulders. If only she would heed the warning, if only... she would leave.
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Credits
♦ Permission granted to use magic and violence on Lace and Fajira
♦ Only tag in new threads, spars and if it's urgent
The Store | The Warden
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Vera shrieked, for she was closer to the carcass. She saw it move. Her body blended with the snow all to well as it skittered back to her bonded, crawling up the mare's nape, barely keeping her eyes above the flames to watch the...whatever it was.
It was slow, but for a good reason. The frozen condensation slipped from it's body reluctantly, hindering movement, certainly. Then she noticed how much it resembled a horse. It's condition seemed to heal, for lack of a better term, as she watched it. It's winds stretched, it's sides showed moving. The thing was not dead, not a mere carcass, but alive. It was breathing. Was it undead? It was the danger Alysanne had spoken of, that was sure. Was it the only one? Were there more? What were they, anyways?
The questions ripped and tore at Adele's mind, pushing any thoughts of her safety out hastily. It drove her stay in place, unmoving and eyes filled with a child-like sense of curiosity. The mare was aged, but her mind was new. As if someone had pressed a restart button. She simply had to recover the information she lost. And then some. This would be that some if a certain corpse would behave for her. She doubted it would, but there was always a possibility, yes?
No.
Definitely not. The thing whirled around with great agility for something one would originally perceive as dead. It had a forked tongue, grotesque liquid seeping from it's jaws, eyes that saw and lusted for only blood. It was, in short, a nightmare. It didn't scare Adele, that required a different grasp upon emotions. It disgusted her a bit, and she jumped when it turned to face her, but only because she wasn't expecting it to even be moving at the moment. She was more so fascinated by how it had come to escape the inevitable, for it had been so close moments before. How could something like that even exist? Another question she needed answered. Another reason to stay in the company of the demon.
Adele was locked in place as the beast spoke a single word: "Run"
Chills were sent up Adele's spine as she heard it, a fight or flight instinct rising within her. Shock was dulling whatever fear she had for the beast, kept her still as well.
'You heard it, c'mon,' Vera pleaded, claws digging into the mare's nape. Fear, so much fear came from the dragon. 'Run? I am a soldier of the Regime. We do not merely run. It is cowardly, my friend, never think of committing such a crime,' Adele hoped she sounded more level-headed than she felt. The words were said to calm and persuade herself rather than her companion. They both needed to hear them, though.
Mustering up what little courage Adele had been born with, she spoke, "What are you?"
The first question was difficult. But it was like the first drop of rain in the storm, the rest of the questions she had suppressed flooding her mouth with ease.
"Where did you come from? Do you have a gender? Are you one of many? If so, where are the rest of you? Can you fly? Do you like flying? Are capable of liking something? I mean, do you have emotions at all? I know you seem angry. What are you angry about? Why do seem so intent on hurting me of all horses? Do you have something against me, is that it? Oh, and who are you? Are you even a who? Do you even get the luxury of claiming a name or were you just that unfortunately thrust into the world, living without something to be called? Are you undead? Is that why you're mad? Are you jealous that I'm truly alive and you're not? I would be upset as well." Adele stopped herself there as she realized she was trying to communicate with a demon. She should be running, far, far away right now. But she wasn't. She was fighting every instinct she had.
Like it would answer her questions. If it didn't, then no matter, she would simply have to...as they say, put it out of it's misery. She was certainly not comfortable knowing such bloodthirsty beasts crawled her land.
Really, who wanted this thing around as it was?
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