Life's too short to live simply |
[OPEN] Are You Gonna Be Okay?
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01-12-2016, 03:28 PM
Any force is permitted aside from death or maiming
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01-13-2016, 05:35 AM
but somewhere here in between the city walls of dyin' dreams It was soft—
(Hush, hush...) —a soft day. Green moss still bearing the faintest dusting of night-frost cradled his large frame, and formed a cushion for his plush nose; its scent lay deep in his mind, coloring his brief, whimsical dreams. The sun had warmed the air and stolen winter's coming bite from it, its light filtering down like a dappled blanket between the evergreen trees. Mauja, former Queen of the Edge, lay upon his soft, soft bed deep in the heart of the land, sheltered from the ocean's winds and the cries of gulls, sheltered from the sharp gazes of others and the cruelty of the world. Even his awakening was soft: a voice, a call, slipping in through furry ears and gently wriggling its way into his consciousness. And there, just like faint sunlight, it tugged at his awareness, pushing and pulling, gently, gently, until the snowbeast's mind stirred and those pale blue eyes flickered open to the world. The mist hung at his eyelevel, twisting and dancing and hiding from the sun-rays, but in a forest it hardly did much to ruin his line of sight—the trees and the bushes saw to that. Mauja raised his head, ears flickering. Something had woken him, something other than the fact that he was done sleeping; his eyes closed. What had it been? (His soul glides on pale wings, feathers whispering as they shear through the air; they hold them wide, those wings, and bank, then dive, dipping in between the crowns of the trees, flaring beneath them, and there—) "Myrrine," he whispered, opening his eyes again. The white owl hung in the air in front of the filly for a moment before disappearing, having shown her friend why he had woken. Back in his soft bed of moss and dreams Mauja hauled himself to his feet, giving his body a shake once to throw off some debris and dust. He hadn't seen the spotted girl in a while—well, a long while. She had been there at the meeting, when he was newly crowned, and he had seen her in a few of the battles, but then.. she had simply disappeared, like so many others did. But she had come back. (And if she could come back, maybe he could, too—) He threw himself into motion, trampling the foolish thoughts and foolish hopes beneath his hooves. He would not come back (I have to believe that you won't Mauja didn't want to think about that now. He didn't want to stumble upon Myrrine like some half-lost ghost, weeping, mourning, when she had just walked back into his life; he drew ragged, rugged breaths, focused, for once, on where he put his feet. Watched the world and the mist flow by beneath his fluid trot, occupied his mind with the more immediate things in life, like that squirrel, that patch of frost over there in the shadows, thinking about apples and buttercup flowers. And then—it was over. He had made it to the border, the glass wall shimmering treacherously in the vague sunlight, and Myrrine was there. She was bigger than he remembered, starting to flesh out her frame, her queer butterfly wings moving lightly with her breath and the breeze... "Myrrine," he said again, because the first time he said it today she certainly would not have heard him. There had just been too much forest between them, but he had fixed that now. So he smiled, warm and pleasant, his eyes gentle, a different kind of ice masking up the hurt beneath, but ice all the same. "Welcome back." Slowly, he reached out, to place his muzzle on her forehead. (Because sometimes, we just need a touch to anchor us in reality.) So much had happened in the time since she'd left. [ @Myrrine <3 ] Mauja
the white queen
01-13-2016, 02:23 PM
Tembovu
Tail swaying around his haunches, more from habit than actual annoyance of bugs, for most had been killed by the frosty nights of Orangemoon. But, still, the coarse and black strands swatted and tangled around his buckskin haunches and black hocks. Perhaps it whipped too swiftly, too sharply, than necessary; stinging skin and whistling through the air. Perhaps it embodied the restlessness that had settled in him— he had just seen Brisa’s companion hatch. How strange it had been to covet that bonding, that intimacy of souls. It felt wrong (unjust) of him to crave the gift his friend had received. Thus, his tail uselessly whipped to and fro and massive teeth violently tore long-dead grass. A call, sweet and pure, rang through the clumps of pines. It shimmied through the trunks, garbled by their rough surfaces, before falling as wordless sounds into his jerking ears. His too abruptly head flew up (again, perhaps too roughly), navy eyes too bright with too avid interest. Everything about the giant was too much. Moving legs of cream and black carry him towards the border, ivory hooves biting into the dry soil. It did not take his long strides to carry him to the borders, but it apparently did take him longer to reach the source of the call than Mauja. The sight the reached his probing gaze was one that surprised him; his spotted friend reaching a muzzle towards brow of a wing mare, the ghost of a greeting smile still on his pale lips. And the mare— youth still clung to her lanky frame, but it was clear that adulthood had started edging out adolescence. Her most was as spotted (if not more-so) than the Frozen’s. But it was her wings, they were unlike any he had seen before. Fluttering and iridescent, the butterfly appendages easily caught and ensnared the Elephant’s gaze. Black brows raised in interest, a smile warmed his cream muzzle, “Mauja, it seems you bring the most lovely individuals to our borders,” memories of Katerina, Arah, and Glacia flashed through his mind, before he turned full attention to the winged mare. “Hello, I am Tembovu. Welcome (back?) to the Edge,” the second phrase was said as a question, for it appeared that the mare was familiar with the Edge’s wall and Mauja. @Myrrine :D
01-18-2016, 03:55 PM
Elsa, Feel lucky for what you have, when you have it. Happily ever after doesn’t mean happy forever.
The Edge was bustling as of late. Many new scents and sounds surrounded her- and she once again felt alien in her own land. Permanently wrapped in confusion, she really didn’t even know where to be. The Edge was an impassable boulder, and she was the only one on the other side. Edgar had begun to feel more normal, frequenting his favorite perch upon her head. He’d filled his boring days with trying to catch a bug, or having a bit too much fun freezing every bit of water he could see. Apparently there wouldn’t be enough ice in Frostfall, so he had to start making some now. Elsa was starting to believe this was an elaborate ruse so he could catch the occasional Edger slip and fall. But in the midst of his joker-like attitude, a call rang out into the Edge. It was female no doubt- and seemed quite confident in announcing her name. Had she been here all along? Or had she returned after hiding during the invasion? Either way, she was pretty straightforward for a newcomer. Elsa picked up a quiet, soft trot, making his way towards the noise. Mauja, Tembovu, and an unfamiliar young lady were there. She raised a brow, approaching slowly. It made her slightly uncomfortable having two “older” men around her. Even though she highly doubted either of them had that kind of intentions, it was her motherly instinct. Taking her spot, she offered a small smile to the spotted lady. ”I’m sure they’ve all given quite an introduction. So I’ll spare you. My name is Elsa. Welcome.” She finished warmly. Glancing between them, she suddenly felt like she was crowding them. Did they both know her? If they did, Elsa had no right to be here. Keeping a careful ear out, she watched for the subtle movement to indicate she should leave. "talk" @Myrrine So sorry for the wait!
01-21-2016, 11:19 PM
@Mauja Any force is permitted aside from death or maiming
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02-11-2016, 12:19 PM
but somewhere here in between the city walls of dyin' dreams And that was both how easy and how hard it was. Her breath was warm against his cheek, her muzzle soft, whiskers tickling his sensitive skin; this was the easy part, just standing still. Breathing. Living. Feeling. Her scent was familiar, joining the memory of the ocean's salty tang, and the vivid display of milky seas—the faint dread of standing near her, the abhorrence at what he was capable of thinking, had almost washed out of his memory.
Almost. If he, who could barely even act upon his desire to save his own life sometimes, was capable of thinking all sorts of stupid shit—he shuddered to think of the people who could think it, and, worse, would do it. Once, he had witnessed a young, barely two years old, stallion massacre a dying mare. What could move someone to such needless violence, such rampant cruelty? They had reveled in her destruction, they had wanted it, and they had caused it—mercy had had nothing to do with it. She had been weak, a prime target for his delusions. Mauja prayed that that boy, now a stallion grown, would never, ever reach the same level of vivid, cruel imagination as Mauja held. And that was where the hard part began—she called him your majesty, oblivious to the events that had gone down in the Green Labyrinth and Riptide Isles, and asked him how he had been. If all had been well. And everything he had fought to keep contained— It came bubbling up to the surface, a high-pitched shriek in the back of his mind, pulse holding silent for a shocked second before thundering into rapid motion. Where could he even begin? Should he just smile and lie? Gently tell her he was no longer Queen? Had she known who d'Artagnan and Snö were? Did she know anything about him at all? No— "I—" he began weakly, but faltered, fell silent; saved, in part, by Tembovu's approaching form. The giant came lumbering through the forest, an easy focus for the sad, pale eyes. "Our King approaches," he said quietly to Myrrine. If she thought Mauja was still Queen, well.. she hardly knew that Torleik had been replaced, either, but that seemed a problem for later. And speaking of problems, it felt like everything was going wrong lately, or like everyone was hiding from ghosts. At the sight of Tembovu Myrrine had begun to sidle over until they were almost touching, and she seemed to look aside when Tembovu greeted them. Mauja's ears flicked, once. There could hardly be something he didn't know here (or was there?), but.. and still, that word, lovely, and all other questions that poured into his mind—questions that were for a different time. "I have to make up for my presence here," he responded, the blandness of his voice giving the joke away. And then, Elsa was there. Mauja nodded to her, listening to her, wondering what moved behind the bone of her cranium; she had seemed broken and shattered, but what was she now? Did she hold it together like he had, living with a feeling of the water level rising, but pretending it didn't scare you to death that you were slowly choking on your own life? He sighed, softly, subtly, and glanced to Myrrine instead. Her wings created a wash of air against his flank, her eyes bobbing between the three of them. A slight frown creased his forehead. What was going on here? What about Myrrine's presence was it that made his mind take all the wrong turns, and come up with all the wrong conclusions? Was he just imagining things or was there some kind of nauseating, underlying tension here? Like something that's just about to start reeking of fear— "I am Queen here no longer," he said quietly, shifting slightly so his shoulder pressed against hers. "Nor is Torleik King. Tembovu and Elsa are our shepherds now." And then, he did not know what else to say—my love tore my heart out and left it on the ground? d'Artagnan had walked away, but it was a pain too private to share here. [ So sorry for the wait! :( @Elsa @Myrrine @Tembovu ] Mauja
the white queen
Tembovu
His brows raise somewhat as Myrinne shifts closer to Mauja— the affectionate greeting and now this? A single ear tilts sideways, perhaps he was intruding… though had Mauja not just been bereaved by abandonment and a broken heart? So many questions, and so few appropriate to voice. Perhaps it was his lingering agitation left over from coveting Brisa’s bonding that made him so sensitive to the tension filtering into the air. Usually the Elephant was so at ease— a soft sigh escaped him as the young woman inquired after his title. He might be King and he might require respect, but he did not require titles. Though he felt some of his strain relax as a low chuckle rumbled from his barrel at the dead-pan, joking reply Mauja had for his earlier comments. Before he can assuage the shy question of the butterfly, none other than Elsa appeared. Tembovu’s ears perk forward on their own accord, navy gaze leaving the spotted pair for the white skin of the Queen. “Elsa,” his voice rumbles in greeting. Gaze quickly glances over his partner monarch, mind unknowingly following the same path as Mauja’s. Was she beginning to gather her shattered pieces? Or was she still wearing a facade? He desired to ask, but knew that question, also, was inappropriate to voice. So he was stuck, fraught with unanswerable questions between friends. His lips pursed gently— this reminded him of his old life. Full of unasked queries and hidden information. Another small gust of breath passed through his nostrils as Mauja revealed both his and Elsa’s places as rulers in the Edge. He nods toward his spotted friend, “While I am King, I do not require you address me as ‘highness,’ Myrrine. ‘Tembovu’ is fine. Welcome back home,” he smiled, lowering his head in a signal of departure, “I will leave you to Mauja’s care to re-familiarize yourself with the Edge. It’s been my pleasure.” And, with a lopsided smile and a lingering gaze at Elsa, he began to walk away. @Myrrine @Elsa So much has happened to him since this thread that I couldn't keep him here :[ if you want another, more recent thread, Bob, I'm down! :D | |||||||||||||||||||||||
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