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@Sabre
The Equine Empire wants YOU! Assuming you refers to an equine.
Join the movement.
Tag me only if starting a new thread.
Magic or force permitted any time, aside from death.
[PRIVATE] hell spawn --
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12-22-2015, 07:55 PM
@Sabre The Equine Empire wants YOU! Assuming you refers to an equine. Join the movement. Tag me only if starting a new thread. Magic or force permitted any time, aside from death.
12-22-2015, 08:46 PM
kid
My unexpected entrance is grand, the best thing to happen to this god forbidden world. I come spilling out in an ocean of bodily fluid and grace, landing upon the ground with its soft embrace keeping me afloat as I adjust to this world. I've fallen beside something else, something I disregard because its familiarity means little to me. I feel brittle, easily breakable as cool air hits my moist skin and leaves me trembling without control. My body shakes when I do not want it to, my frustration growing as I feel something slop against me, slurping and swallowing whatever lingered on my body. Whatever cleansed me was disgusting for stooping so low as to let such foul things touch their mouth. I dare to open my eyes, to see this lowly being staring back with some form of admiration but burning rage all at once. I fumble with my thoughts, my first wreck of emotions hitting me at the speed of sound. I have to love this, this that degraded and defiled itself by consuming the fluids that dripped from me, that came from its body. My nose wrinkles and a discontent grunt spills from my dual-tone lips as she moves on from me, murmuring something as she goes., She just leaves me me to lie there on my own, I can't do shit, I am helpless and I hate it. I want attention though, therefore I will get attention. My cries for her eyes and care and comfort do not go unnoticed, teeth biting into my clean flesh and spreading my blood around my cheek. This was my first look into the future of my life, how my mother would treat me. It plants the seed that would take root in my heart, in my very soul. I was destined for greatness, destined to be a ruler of all, to be king of the world. My sides heave as I roll onto my stomach, determined to prove that I was the alpha, that I was the stronger of the two that spilled from the womb. My sister, I do love her without reason, unconditionally as we grew together in the confines of a fleshy prison. We will know every inch of one another, we will become great together. But I, I will become mother's favourite. It will be I who she admires most, who she praises for good behaviour because I will let myself melt into her mold of the perfect Emperor and I will become what she wants of me. I push past the weakness of my joints, the newness of my bones, I rise like the king I am. My forelegs straighten first, showing promise of strength and agility as my rear end begins the ascent. I look to mother for approval, eyes gleaming with hope and I pray she is watching her flesh and blood strengthen, taking the first step to a future of respect and power. Indeed, her grey eyes linger on me as I pridefully take my first step forth, ears pricked forward and mind set on accomplishing this monumental step in my existence. "Talk." -- THE BOY KING IS HERE F YEAH the boy bandit king
12-23-2015, 01:28 PM
show me how defenseless you really are.
I am not so much pushed into this world, but rather leap into it. That’s how I see it, anyway—and almost instantly, I regret my brashness (a hard, prickling sensation I will become used to in life, but never learn from). A cold chill swathes my damp skin with a bite that is new and unfamiliar, my clammy eyes blinking almost blearily against the strange light that hurts. I want the darkness, the shadows, the warmth, and the familiarity of all that had been mine for as long as my budding mind could comprehend. With lanky muscles jerking wildly, I fight for control of my own body in a wobbling mess, gangly legs thrashing about and my head flailing as I search for some semblance of balance—or any recognition of self, for that matter. Snorting through the liquids that are clearing from my lungs, I release a high-pitched bleat. It is not a cry for help—never a cry for help—but rather of frustration, my senses overwhelmed and frantic with this strange place that I have dived into. Blinking violently against wet lashes, I bleat again, simply because I can. But something abruptly silences me—a shove of someone joining me. A familiar, comforting, and delightfully welcome familiarity of my brother’s presence. Tossing my head, I reach to nip at him, gums seeking to graze his soft skin in a rough gesture that is something like affection. It is her touch that snaps my attention then, warm tongue grazing my damp coat for reasons I do not care to understand. All I know is that she dares to touch me, a right that has—up until now—only been reserved for my brother, and my little heart flares fiercely at her audacity. Instinctively I pin my fuzzy ears, lips pulling back to reveal what would one day be powerful weapons, but despite all my might and fury, she does not halt her advance. Still she licks. And so, with a huff, I resign, grudgingly ignoring the fact that the massage might even feel a little bit good. Before I know it, brother is moving. Gradually, shakily, he rises—and intently, proudly, she watches him. Now it’s not like I have the same need as brother to be revered or whatever, but I definitely do not like being ignored. Bleating and grunting, I thrust my little butt up into the air. For a moment I’m stuck like that, bright eyes pinning the both of them as I reach out to nip at them before completing my rise. I’m not graceful or anything, but I’m fairly steady, and I puff my chest out happily. There! My fluffy tail wags behind me, and I stamp my hooves, not quite understanding the idea of moving around yet, but it doesn’t take me long—soon I’m marching after brother, my steps heavy and more of a stomp, as though I could hold the earth beneath me with every dainty hoof. And why couldn’t I? I stomp around some more, but the excitement quickly wears off (old news), and suddenly I realize something. I’m…my…my stomach hurts. What kind of crap is this?! The pain shoots right through the middle of me, grumbling and rioting, and I riot right along with it. Screaming my displeasure, I look first to her and then brother, expecting one of them to fix it. notes; Eeee yay!:D “Speech.” You’re so cold, but you feel alive— lay your hand on me one last time. JOIN THE EMPIRE
please tag Sabre in all replies! magic & force is permitted, excluding death or permanent injury.
12-24-2015, 05:24 PM
(This post was last modified: 12-24-2015, 05:24 PM by Nymeria.
Edit Reason: For tag
)
Nymeria & Lilómiel Revolution from dissolution
In the deeps of the forest, there was only stillness and vacant shadows, but Nymeria welcomed the atmosphere that went along with it. Her breath was too loud, and her hooves sounded like thunder—but that did not prevent her from taking full advantage of the shifting shadows. Through what felt like night (so deep and lush was the darkness), she and her dragon roamed freely through the Wilds, in a loose and idle exploration of the familiar. Off in the distance was a faint and nevertheless pungent reek of amniotic fluids and iron-tasting blood, simultaneously hard and soft. She had never encountered anything quite like it (except in the very oldest of wasted and largely forgotten memories), and that was all Nymeria needed to go on a wild goose chase. @Colt
12-24-2015, 06:17 PM
The Equine Empire wants YOU! Assuming you refers to an equine. Join the movement. Tag me only if starting a new thread. Magic or force permitted any time, aside from death.
12-24-2015, 07:25 PM
kid
The king has risen now, I have begun my long race to the glistening crown that still settles upon mother's head. My sibling, we will reach the crown, whether it be together or with one ahead and the other dragging behind, we shall see. These next few weeks will be the most important in determining the status of our relationship, to see if we can handle the crushing pressure of our mother's expectations as well as shoulder the burden of companionship with the competition. Would mother crown us both, or will we be unknowingly tested? These complicated thoughts spread through me, this worry and stress of never being good enough has already consumed me, but I do not let them affect my steps. I will push forward, and sister will follow. I can feel her steps, thrumming after me with a sense of superiority, a thundering will to trail behind me. It goes on for a while, and I can feel the excitement of walking, and suddenly I'm tripping forward with unexpected speed, my legs are trembling and as eager as I, swinging with a lack of grace as I trip around mother in quick circles. She seems rather amused to watch me go, all until sister begins to scream, and my prancing stops and my ears flatten in annoyance at the demanding wails of my wombmate. I try to form a word, something to shut her up, but my lips are sealed and I cannot even fathom a word that defines what I want at this moment. So instead I let loose a subtle whine, a plea for silence that I pray mother does not hear because I know that more of my blood will spill if she hears how needy for quiet I am. A quick glance at me makes my shoulders straighten and I feel my knees quiver because I feel fear. Finally she snaps, mother's voice ringing our ruthless and cold, her temper swelling as she slams her hooves into the earth and shouts. Shut up, that's what she says. I flinch when her hooves hit the ground, when spit flies from her mouth and veins pop up from her forehead. She is angry, her unsettling look seems to compel me into shuffling closer to her, as if standing away from her will get me some kind of backlash, like she has me tethered to a leash and just snapped it back. She tries to get my companion to duck beneath her, calling my darker twin Sabre, Sabre. My head cocks like a confused hound at the word, the title presented to my female counterpart, because I didn't have one. I wanted to be called something, I wanted to have a title in which to call myself, to be able to know that I had a purpose and a name to go with my death marked face. I was nameless now, a boy without worth as I stand beside mother, candy eyes lingering on her pale hide before she speaks again. Kid. That's what she says to me, our eyes locking for a brief heartbeat to confirm that this is who I will be known as from now on, that this is the name I will wear and answer to. I dutifully answer her request, my grumbling stomach telling me that what she's offering is what I need. I take the first steps to my food, lips finding the source of my nutrients and the first gulps of warm fluid make their grand entrance, slipping into my stomach and bringing satisfaction. The grinding, twisting pains that had plagued my stomach before dissipated with each greedy swallow. I'm almost done with my first feast when I see a black blur approach, growing more and more defined as it gets closer and closer to us. Mother's body practically burns with anger, her temper flaring as she shifts her stance and stares directly at the slightly horse like shape. I let myself take a few more mouthfuls before pulling away to stare at this stranger, blinking and taking another step towards them. We are one in the same, my face marked by the same ivory skull as this woman, contrasting our dark skin and holding our vibrant eyes against a monotone backdrop. How alike we are does not make sense to me, this strange idea of relations outside of mother and Sabre is alien and unaccepted by my young mind. The mere concept of a father does nothing to me, in fact this word doesn't even exist in my vocabulary (at least until the stranger says it) nor does it bring any compelling emotion to me. And it won't, not if mother has her way. Volterra, Volterra. Is that too, a name? Does someone wear this as theirs, and does mother know them? I look up to her, watching her search my face like she's trying to solve a murder, and I don't know what she will find buried in my unclean face but it must be something important because she looks for it for a good few minutes. Mother pulls away with something, just a fair grasp at just what it was, but it doesn't seem to be enough for her to be sure, so she stares sternly at the shadow draped girl and talks low and firm. "Talk." @Sabre <3 the boy bandit king
12-26-2015, 02:18 AM
show me how defenseless you really are.
“SHUT UP!” She yells, bellows, her voice (so gentle before, I had barely even noticed it) is like a roar now. An angry roar. It hits me like a wave, shutting me up mid-cry with jaw hanging open and everything, my eyes widening in surprise more than anything else. What the crap?!??!??????? My expression screams in the silence that suddenly rings with the absence of my irritable shrieks—and my little mind can’t grasp at understanding for long. Probably not even a second later, she smashes her hooves into the ground. She is large, hulking, and strong; I can feel the ground vibrate beneath me, and I stiffen before she ushers me forward. Her—Ma, I finally decide, she is my Ma—shepherding is hardly gentle, but should I really expect it to be? I know nothing else, after all (having thus far spent a whopping five minutes in this strange place), and so I do not anticipate anything but this from her. Being no delicate flower myself, I accept it without question, my adolescence driving me to obey despite the stubborn burning of my ignorant heart. Snorting, I—stomp—as fast as I can to where she directs. Tucking my white face beneath her belly, my lips finally find what instincts encourage me to, gums latching onto life as I suckle vigorously. Drink; that is what she says, so that is what I must be doing, what this is called, and the word is filed away among the handful of others that my fuzzy ears cup into comprehension. And—Sabre. Perhaps there is something primal in every newborn. Some type of primitive need to be named, to have a christening that gives us a title that belongs to each of us, and us alone. Somehow I know that this is mine. Sabre. I can feel the hair on my neck prickling in pride as it blooms across my skin. Fleetingly, I take notice that my stomach has stopped screaming at me by now. The rampaging and surly pains have—finally—subsided, leaving behind a delightful warmth that blossoms in my belly. I dare not move until Ma ushers brother (Kid, I discerned from his own naming) forward to take his turn, and even then, I only back off because he’s brother. My wombmate. But wait—eat she says to him, not drink. Instantly my brow puckers in curiosity, wondering what this eat is—and why couldn’t I get any?! Flicking my ears back indignantly, I dart my head under Ma’s belly again, watching brother with bright eyes. He doesn’t seem to be doing anything different than I had…and as long as he’s not getting anything different, I’m satisfied. In any case, the burning of curiosity quickly diminishes in favor of something else. Licking my lips and smacking them happily, I retreat once again, marching around on spindly legs to Ma’s other side, where brother is still nursing. I notice her stiffening first. The coiling of her muscles is abrupt, and the tension seems to shoot out from her body, chilling the air and creating an atmosphere that is vastly different. My spine tingles instinctively, yellow eyes narrowing when I turn to see the dark stranger. In all of my limited knowledge, I do not grasp the complexity of relationships, or what possible ties this mare might have to me—and I do not care. All I know is that she’s definitely not Ma. Brother’s movement has my eyes snapping to him when he wanders a step towards the stranger. Following him with less grace, I charge mightily forward, throwing myself in front of him and shooting him a glare that says stop, stupid (but gosh I love you anyway idiot) before I eye the black shadow. It is only now that I realize how…big she is! She is larger than Ma, but not as angry apparently, and my little heart simply can’t fathom anyone besting a hero like a mother. So when Ma speaks, I almost nod to back her up, adding my own silent warning. So take your Volterra and go! Yeah. That’ll show them! “Speech.” You’re so cold, but you feel alive— lay your hand on me one last time. JOIN THE EMPIRE
please tag Sabre in all replies! magic & force is permitted, excluding death or permanent injury.
12-30-2015, 12:35 AM
Nymeria & Lilómiel Revolution from dissolution
Nymeria did not hear Colt’s voice cutting at her children, and she could not know Colt’s desire to starve her own brethren, but had she—well, she might’ve been predisposed to act upon the violence thriving in her veins, rather than tamping it down. @Colt OOC: Provided Colt accepts Nymeria's gifts, I'll post in the Character Records to make sure Nym's spark amulet is transferred to her! ^^
01-04-2016, 06:06 PM
The Equine Empire wants YOU! Assuming you refers to an equine. Join the movement. Tag me only if starting a new thread. Magic or force permitted any time, aside from death.
01-10-2016, 09:13 PM
(This post was last modified: 01-10-2016, 09:14 PM by Kid.
Edit Reason: forgot tag
)
kid
Mother was powerful, a woman to look up to. She was confident, she was headstrong and despite only being in this world for a short period, I already I knew she was vigorous and unforgiving. From the way she stood to the way she spoke, mother was relentless and that excited me. I wanted to be intimidating just like her, I wanted to know how she carried herself with such a confident manner, I wanted to be like that, an imposing force against even the biggest foes. Because even though I'm destined to be smaller than most, I'm still the one with the most importance and power, the one who was a god sent gift to teach the world what true beauty is. Sister will be beside me too, because she too will be strong, and together we will conquer. Mother gets a gift, something pretty, something I want. But what I want more, is what delivers the prize, a scaled beast that looks powerful and I want it, I need it like I need air, my natural pull towards the species specific companion is immediate, wonder in my eyes. I open my lips, letting them close and open over and over because I cannot produce any words, I can think of what I want to say, but the act of actually making noises from my mouth other than frustrated grunts and whimpers is still a difficult concept for me to grasp. I push closer to Sabre's side, looking at her in hopes that she too is enticed by the dragon. The way it fluently shifts through the air, grace and elegance hidden behind a deadly facade, it was what I needed, because I too would become that one day. "WwAAnt." I look taken aback by my own speech, shocked by my first word, but frustrated because my tongue did not work how I wanted, and my voice was squeaky and less threatening than I would like it to. Having a high, childish voice was not on my agenda, I couldn't sound like a kitten while threatening the public. I turn to mother, I look at her like she'll know what to do to stop me from sounding like air escaping a balloon, like she has the knowledge to stop this sick sound that leaves my mouth in the form of shrill words. I may be a child, but I certainly do not want to sound like one, it makes me sound like a soft babe that wants to enjoy rainbows and puppies, when I want to rule with a crown on my head and an army at my feet, with prowess and brutality by my side, and a loyal sister whose power will be parallel to mine. But what I cannot achieve, is just that, not when I sound so icky. The stranger talks, she keeps saying Volterra, Volterra. It's like she wants mother to remember something, or to know something, perhaps this name is important to mother? I look up at her curiously, wondering who this Volterra is and why they're so important, which doesn't seem possible because I'm the one who's supposed to be important here, the one who matters in this situation. Shouldn't mother be looking at me? Appreciating me? Sabre and I are the important ones in this situation, we were just born! Shouldn't we be marveled at with our monotone forms and accented crimson, matching in skeletal shapes and splattered fluids. I look at Sabre, trying to express my frustration through distorted facial expressions that make me look ridiculous rather than show how I feel. I shuffle closer to Sabre, feeling my new found energy bubbling. Standing so still when there were things to be done was a waste, I wanted to find out what these tall shadows were, why they loomed so far above me. They were overpowering, and as I crane my neck they seemed to all meld into one mass of colour and blurry shapes far above my reach, a place I could not go. How annoying, that there were places I could not reach, things I could not touch or take. My small huff is the only sign of my frustrations, ivory brows knit and a subtle frown lingering on my dual-tone lips. "Talk." the boy bandit king @Sabre <3
01-15-2016, 11:01 PM
show me how defenseless you really are.
Well—the tall dark woman hardly seems to even notice me and my little spat of untrained, protective, childlike anger. She just keeps right on going, talking with Ma, exchanging words that I don’t care to try and understand. I feel miffed by this, the cold feeling prickling through my chest and itching down my spine. Flicking my little ears back, I release a shrill snort, shaking my head in this new irritation before turning to brother. I lip a few times at his feathery mane, his closeness is comforting to me. Already by some primal instinct, I know I can rely on him more than anyone, and with him, I can be more than anything. Huffing a loud sigh with a dramatic roll of my skinny shoulders, my attention wanders to other things, bored now that this stranger isn’t giving me anything to work with. The darkness of the forest is soothing. I feel comfortable in the fluid shadows, reminded vaguely of that warm place, my home for as long as my cognitive mind could comprehend—I suppose this place would better if it wasn’t so dang cold, or the ground so hard against my raw, newborn hooves. I quiver briefly from a breeze, my coat still damp from—delightful—bodily fluids and Ma’s spit. If nothing else, at least I’ve got brother here with me. When I feel him lean into my shoulder, I press back, realizing a moment later that he’s trying to direct my attention. I almost roll my eyes—what could he possibly have found?—but my focus is immediately awakened when I notice it. The dragon. How in the BLAZES had I not noticed THAT thing earlier?! The creature, he is magnificent. I’ve never seen anything like it (granted, I’ve seen VERY few things at this point) but immediately I am captured, ensnared, and pulled by the firm, vicious grasp of greed. I want it. Smacking my lips in a display reminiscent of hunger, I take a step towards where the dragon had landed next to Ma. I want to reach out and touch it, take it, but the shrill, fledgling voice of brother distracts me. Whipping my head around fast enough that it almost knocks me off my feet, I stare at him, wide-eyed. For a few seconds I look at him like that, stunned, before laughing. I mean I adore him and all, but compared to the gruff and brazen voice of Ma, he sounds so…small. Surely I can’t sound that way too! Puffing out my chest in the biggest inhale I can muster, I try to force my young body to cooperate, powerfully heaving out a word: “MmmIINE!” Okay, so— I just about knock myself off my feet again with the effort I put into this, and my voice is definitely bolder than brother’s (right?), but (despite what I believe) it is no more intimidating. It’s like the miserable bray of a donkey. Thrashing my fluffy tail indignantly around my rump, I look to Ma, my eyes lingering on the new shiny thing in her hair, before I follow the flight of the black dragon. Suddenly, the business between Ma and the dark woman have very little importance, masked so completely by this creature. He doesn’t seem very far away, so I reach out again, dark nostrils quivering as I take in his strange and beautiful presence. I want to touch him. Hardly shy—and definitely not understanding what control is—I take a step forward. I make sure that I can still feel brother’s body against mine, but I can’t resist this sweet pull of curiosity. “Speech.” You’re so cold, but you feel alive— lay your hand on me one last time. JOIN THE EMPIRE
please tag Sabre in all replies! magic & force is permitted, excluding death or permanent injury. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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