| Hidden Account atk: 4 | def: 7.5 | dam: 7 |
| Stallion :: Hybrid :: 17.1 hh :: 3 HP: 64 | Buff: NOVICE |
|
Ka'Mate :: Harpy Eagle :: None
& Ka'Ora :: Harpy Eagle :: None
M.E. |
08-17-2015, 12:36 PM
(This post was last modified: 08-17-2015, 12:37 PM by Reginald.)
Ka’Mate perches; Ka’Ora soars the sky. They know this place.
Two pairs of raptors’ eyes scan the sand and the grasses that have begun to spring there; the waters flow calmly and the wind is alight with a newess to it, as though dew drops themselves float upon the breezes of spring. A new year. The heat is rising, cutting through the linger of Frostfall’s grip, and the basilisk knows it will continue to rise until it is the harsh, blessed heat wave he so adores.
For now, he stands at the shores of a far-reaching lake. Livid.
He cannot stand these parameters—how he is locked in or locked out so easily by the absence of wings upon his back. It disgusts him and angers him to be kept from a sanctuary he has come to love and covet, a sand-jewel buried in the sands far to the south of this land. And yet, he does not feel as though he is a mutant, a lesser being by the omission of flight. He is perfection, an obelisk of the finest onyx and obsidian, chiseled and crafted down to the minute perfection of his tendons. He is the right one; this mote is in the wrong, and detestable.
No matter.
He has no reason to linger here, now that Macaria (his gut twinges in beautiful pain as the thought of his sister crosses his mind) is grown enough to walk by herself and live beneath the shadow of their father. And yet here he is, his sights still set firmly towards the isle that has captured his passions so tightly in its grasp.
He stands—calm and quiet, eyes contemplative and only slightly drowsy in that moment as he waits for one with wings to allow him access. This waiting is a detestable thing. Yet he does it, and the eagles tied to his soul do not dare to wonder at their master’s inability to follow them across the waters.
@Megaera
"talk talk talk"
R E G I N A L D
Walk the razor's edge
Cut into the madness
Question all you trust |
Image Credit
--Please tag REGINALD in every reply!
--All force is allowed to be used against this character!
| World's Edge Mare atk: 4.5 | def: 8.5 | dam: 6 |
| Mare :: Hybrid :: 16.0 :: 5 HP: 62 | Buff: NOVICE |
|
Mara :: Common Rougarou :: Shadow
ali |
 | | Ranjiri</style>
in this world full of people there's one killing me
and if we only die once i wanna die with you</style>
Finally, finally Birdsong had begun, which meant that the snow was going to be gone for a few seasons and I couldn't have been more thankful for that. It was just starting but I could already feel it in the air. That bitter chill that had bit straight into my bones was gone. Flying was more pleasant and a lot easier without the ice crystals getting stuck to my feathers and weighing them down. It was nice and for the first time in a while I felt okay.
I had nowhere to be, no one to see, no tasks that needed immediate attention so I'd taken to skies just to fly. Being grounded through Frostfall made me miss the wind in my hair and the way it ruffled my feathers. I'd also missed the view I had from way up in the sky. It was amazing how it seemed like I could see forever in whatever direction I looked. It kept me preoccupied most of the time and, honestly, I rarely ever looked down at the ground below me. I don't even know what made me look down this time in particular but when I did I could see an unfamiliar someone standing on the shore looking at the Throat. "Hello!" I called and I began to circle lower to land.
The thing I loved the most about the sand was how it seemed to absorb the shock of any landing and this time was no different. My hooves touched the ground and I trotted forward a few steps then stopped and folded my wings against my sides. "Are you waiting for someone?" I asked curiously as I studied his face. There was a pinprick of recognition since I was standing face to face with him, but nothing concrete so I brushed it aside as nothing.
"."
| |
|  |
Image Credits
aud pixel!
| Absent Abyss atk: 6.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 4.5 |
| Mare :: Pegasus :: 15 h :: 8 [Birdsong] HP: 70 | Buff: NOVICE |
|
Gwaihir :: Golden Eagle :: None
Laine |
08-20-2015, 10:25 PM
(This post was last modified: 08-20-2015, 10:27 PM by Megaera.
Edit Reason: added tags
)
 The Sunspear was on fire. Metaphorically speaking, of course, but Birdsong had been so desperately awaited by the Sultana that its coming had set a blaze in her heart that could not be quenched. Even if the nights still clung to chill, life had returned to Dragon’s Throat and its headstrong queen felt untouchable; the doubts or Frostfall melted by a Birdsong sun. Everything was perfect, so wondrously goddamned perfect. Meg went through her daily routine in the highest of spirits, marveling at every aspect of her life.
Morning mommy-time with Mordecai — her daughter was strong and happy and safe.
Sweep of the oasis — the herd was the largest she’d ever seen it and going stronger all the time, even Tandavi had returned from her solo sojourn.
Patrol the borders — their island remained totally unthreatened, untouched by the squabbles of the north.
God. Damn. Perfect.
Megaera flew high over the northern coastline at a breakneck speed, at her side, Gwaihir matched her pace. The two raced through the air, swirling and darting around each other in their daredevil dance as the drew closer to the end. They had set the bridge as their finish line and to the winner the bragging rights.
It was Gwaihir that took the title this time, his pricing cry rang in triumph as he crossed over the open straight where the bridge would appear when called. Meg hurtled over the next second and only laughed in exhilaration. Ever sharp-eyed the eagle directed his bonded’s attention to the ground with a quick tug of their mental link and from the sky, Meg looked to see two figures perched on the Heart side, and, aiming her body to the ground to join them.
She lands some ways away, kicking up a spray of dust in her wake before approaching the pair. One familiar, one not, both taller than Megaera but that fact did nothing to discourage her, and she moves forward with a confident stride, wings still somewhat raised like streaming banners behind her. “Sun’s greetings to you both!” Her voice is somewhat breathless from the race but still strong, as she comes to a stop, forming a little triangle of bodies. She nods at the darker mare mare first with a grin, “It’s Ranjiri, isn’t it?” and then turns her dark eyes on the stallion. “You I’ve seen but I don’t believe we’ve met. I am Megaera, Sultana of the Throat.”
Image Credits
@Reginald @Ranjiri
FAC FORTIA ET PATERE
be brave and endure
:: permission given for use of magic and force :: please tag Megaera in all posts ::
| Hidden Account atk: 4 | def: 7.5 | dam: 7 |
| Stallion :: Hybrid :: 17.1 hh :: 3 HP: 64 | Buff: NOVICE |
|
Ka'Mate :: Harpy Eagle :: None
& Ka'Ora :: Harpy Eagle :: None
M.E. |
08-23-2015, 06:17 PM
(This post was last modified: 08-23-2015, 06:18 PM by Reginald.)
Hello!, cries a blackbird dipped it gold. He raises his eyes to a sun-drenched sky, watching as a shadow descends toward him on heavy wings that seem to dazzle in the pristine stage of blue sky.
He sees who it is that meets him—a black mare whose legs have been gilded in sunlight, whose mane cascades around her shoulders, windswept and spangled. His eyes keep trained on her face and the rubies there, instead of sweeping over her form with abandon as he is wont to do with any womanflesh that presents itself to him; he keeps his eyes polite and friendly, the greys glinting in the daylight as he meets her gaze. He knows, from the smell of sunbaked earth that clings to her coat, that she is of this herd—he wonders if he has seen her form before this moment, even if they were never before acquainted with each other before.
*"Are you waiting for someone?"*
She does not come off as stupid, not just yet; perhaps that is to come later, after he has decided to fuck her. “Yes,” he says simply, and his lips bend into a handsome, pleasant smile around the warm orb of his voice. “Perhaps it’s you I’m waiting for.” His head tilts; it is a jaunty, playful thing he does, teasing her this way. He is bored and furious with her privilege, her a b i l i t y to come and go from his treasured isle as she pleases; he tries to bury his immediate hatred with these silly things he allows to spew from his mouth. He wonders, briefly, if this is how it shall be to live in a herd.
“Sun’s greetings to you both!”
Again, someone hails them from the skies; and again it is a filly who regales them with her presence. This one is small, a mouse of a thing with ponderously huge wings attached to her ratty back. He cocks a carved brow as he peers down at her, and the greetings she offers to them.
Sultana she calls herself. He wonders how she rose to such a lofty position in this herd—and why she is Sultana, and not her, as he originally witnessed. He supposed there has been much that has happened here in his time away from the bulk of herd happenings; he could not bring himself to dive into the policies and idiocies of a society. He holds his breath, now; he grits his teeth to take the plunge.
“I am Reginald, my Sultana,” he says smoothly, dipping his head to her in a gesture that brings him mortal agony, “and I would like to thank you for allowing my sister refuge while her hoof healed and the cold lingered in the land.” He dips his head again--oh, but how he hates these things that he must do, how he must kiss her scrawny little ass in such a fashion. It is infuriating. It is necessary.
“It…has always seemed it was never the right time for me to do this,” he confesses, eyes of grey peering down at the queenly mare, his prey, “I have fallen in love with this place, with the desert and her heat, and I’ve longed to offer myself as part of the herd…”
He stands square before her, his tail curling languidly behind him, while eagles within his mind’s eye watch as the world bends in an eerie shadow within his thoughts. “I would like to become a warrior of this herd, Sultana,” he finally states, wondering if she would be so obliged to accept his offer for brotherhood.
"talk talk talk"
R E G I N A L D
Walk the razor's edge
Cut into the madness
Question all you trust |
Image Credit
@Ranjiri
@Megaera
--Please tag REGINALD in every reply!
--All force is allowed to be used against this character!
| World's Edge Mare atk: 4.5 | def: 8.5 | dam: 6 |
| Mare :: Hybrid :: 16.0 :: 5 HP: 62 | Buff: NOVICE |
|
Mara :: Common Rougarou :: Shadow
ali |
08-25-2015, 11:22 AM
(This post was last modified: 08-25-2015, 11:25 AM by Ranjiri.)
| | Ranjiri</style>
in this world full of people there's one killing me
and if we only die once i wanna die with you</style>
He said that he was, in fact, waiting for someone and I was going to ask who, offer to go and find whoever it was he was looking for but then he spoke again and suggested that perhaps it was me. I couldn't help the smile and the soft laugh that tumbled past my lips at the very idea of it. Who would even search for me? It wasn't like I was a very important part of the Dragon's Throat. I didn't even have a key to allow him to cross. "I'm sorry, but I doubt you've been looking for me."
No sooner had I finished speaking Megaera, the Sultana, arrived. I'd never spoken to her directly before, I only knew what she looked like and who she was from herd meetings and seeing her around so I was pleasantly surprised that she actually knew my name. "It is." I said and she addressed the stallion that we had both spotted from the air. It looked back to him, my ears forward as I listened to him introduce himself as Reginald. Even though he looked familiar the name still didn't ring any bells.
When he offered his services as a warrior I looked back to Megaera because I was already thinking about something else. If she accepted him as a warrior he would need a way to get to and from the Throat on patrols and without wings he wouldn't be able to. "I can make a key once we get across..." I murmured to the Sultana, my voice trailed, though, because I was uncertain if she would accept him or not.
"."
ooc://
uhh ... i think the crafters can make keys? if i'm wrong i'll edit D:
| |
| |
Image Credits
@Megaera @Reginald
aud pixel!
| Absent Abyss atk: 6.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 4.5 |
| Mare :: Pegasus :: 15 h :: 8 [Birdsong] HP: 70 | Buff: NOVICE |
|
Gwaihir :: Golden Eagle :: None
Laine |
[quote='Megaera' pid='150730' dateline='1440127544']
Ranjiri answered with few words but seemed pleased so Megaera smiled at her again. She had only known the girl by sight from her patrols and what Cera had told her. From what her friend had said, the golden girl had suffered in recent months, having witnessed the death of Midas the Gallant. While Meg could not sympathize with mourning a paternal figure, she did not like to think that one of her family was in pain. Without any fanfare, Meg sidestepped, bringing her body parallel to the golden girl and reach out with her brown-feathered wing. She made to press in gently against the black and gold feathers for a moment, a gesture of friendship, of solidarity, before turning her attention to the stallion.
It was a little strange that he spoke so smoothly, so eloquently, for one who held such an imposing physical presence. She was used to the clipped words and the gruff manner of Gaucho and Einarr, and even the more soft-spoken stallions of the Throat had never spoke to her with such formality. Her brow raised slightly as he pontificated, was this the kind of treatment she would have to get used to as Sultana? If it was the job promised to grow quite tedious. “I am happy we could be of help to you sister, I hope she has quite recovered.” She vaguely remember seeing the injured filly and her two hulking guards, but it seems a while ago. His praise of her home did the stallion credit and her cocky grin returned. Damn right, best place on earth!
She looked him up and down, considering his request. He certainly had a the look of a warrior, tall and dark and something slightly threatening even behind his manners. As much as that should make the Sultana hesitate, Meg found it intriguing. Isn’t that what we need in our warriors though? Strength? Power? The black form of another stallion came to mind and for the briefest moment Megaera’s attention wandered. It was the sharp cry of Gwaihir that caught her focus again as the eagle defended to perch himself open her back. ’Six eye.’ he intoned through their link as he fixed his harsh golden gaze on the stallion, and Megs eyes flicked up to the pair of white eagles. The bird might have been young, but he looked at the world with the attitude of a cranky old man that always amused his bonded. “We would welcome you to our ranks, but know that he expect much from our warriors in Dragon’s Throat. Joining the herd is one thing but joining our fighters is a commitment I don’t recommend you take lightly, if only because our Gladiator is a handful.” She ended in a joke, but there was a flash or warning in her glance. This is MY home…behave yourself.
She turned her head to Ranjiri again, her jovial manner returning. “That would be perfect, thank you. Might as well make a few while you're at it, i know there are others who still need them.” The earthy eagle took to the air again and Meg watched him rise. ’See you on the other side’ she called silently after her dear friend and started off in a jaunty stride closer to where the waves lapped at the shore. She didn’t need to reach for the golden key tucked in her left wing for the flicker of flaming light to rise above her back. “Come, I can escort you across.” she called to Reginald.
Image Credits
FAC FORTIA ET PATERE
be brave and endure
:: permission given for use of magic and force :: please tag Megaera in all posts ::
|
.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
