| Deceased |
| Mare :: Equine :: 15.3 :: 15 |
| Alex |
12-28-2012, 07:43 PM
(This post was last modified: 12-28-2012, 07:44 PM by Mandrake.)
MANDRAKE
don't cross me, for your own safety
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It was raining. The sky was crying, splattering the rock with tears as I finally arrived at the rock jutting out over the iron gray ocean frothing off-white. There was a fierce wind picking up, the sort of wind that sent the waves scuttling and rushing, the wind that roared in your ears and sent the rain stinging into your eyes. But I had traveled two, three weeks now to get here, going slowly as well, taking my leisurely time, yet even so, it would not do for a little rain to send me back.
So instead of hesitating at the bridge that glistens wetly with ocean spray, I begin to trot across it, hooves clattering even in midst of the howling tsunami beginning around me. My black mane, soaked through, whips my eyes and clings to my sodden gray skin, my hide that matches the filthy gray ocean. Yet nothing can match the coldness of my heather eyes, nothing, not ice or snow or the gods themselves.
Up I climb, the wind building in its cries, but I am more relentless when I have a goal than the ocean is intent on hitting the shore. No wind or rain or other element will stop me from doing this. Perhaps it is a god, one of the known ones or a different one, trying to ward me off, but I refuse to be swayed unless the force that may be behind such a howling storm materializes before me. So I continue my climb, mane sticky and cold, tail knotted and curled, and up and up I do climb, until the world is lost in gray shadow as the sun sets. As I seek the Moon God, I find it only proper I should call upon her in her proper element.
I finally rise to the top, where the three shrines lay in waiting. No... four. Four? I wonder... it does not matter. I wait until the sun is gone completely, until the wind has stilled even though the spitting rain continues its descent. Finally, I approach, and lift my head up. Rain stings my eyes and clouds my vision, but I search the skies for a coming horse.
"Moon God!" I call out, neither loud nor quiet, for a god will hear me or ignore me regardless of my wants and wishes.
[DARK :: To be able to say a pain (i.e. burn) and the horse would feel that. As an upgrade, the ability in which Mandrake says the pain it becomes alive- so if she said broken bone, a bone would break.]
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Image Credit
| Helovian Ancient |
| Mare :: Hybrid :: 15.2hh :: Ageless |
| Admin |
12-29-2012, 11:32 AM
(This post was last modified: 12-29-2012, 11:33 AM by God of the Moon.)
Nothing colder? The Goddess begged to differ. She saw Mandrake coming from miles away, but the storm was not entirely her work. Still, she could help it along; and as she scanned the vile mare's thoughts, she found what she needed. The Goddess' motive was the same as always- veiled in shadow and likely unreasonable. But whatever it was that drove her to do so, she chilled the air. Cold unimaginable rained down upon the mare who was foolish enough to think her stronger than so many others. But nature would always rule, and nature was nothing but a toy of the gods.
Her air froze each drop of rain to a chip of ice and her shadow crawled slowly over her shrine. She followed suit, massive and powerful, prepared to take on anything. The mare before her was no threat, just a fool. A fool that wanted power, and a strong one at that. Standing tall above Mandrake, she considered the desire. She saw it there, resting deep within the mare's wicked heart- the need to create pain. And the Goddess could relate- after all, she was likely freezing Mandrake's blood at this temperature. Still, with an upwards tilt of her head and a cavalier snort, the Goddess of the Moon seemed unimpressed.
"Your task is simple, just as is your request," the Goddess began with a swipe of her tongue across her teeth. She was like a predator, slipping into shadows at will, harming as it made sense to her. "Feel the pain that you wish to inflict from the effects of others' magics without aid, and then return to me," she replied with a bored tone and another rush of cold wind. The Goddess of the moon had only to wait and see what Mandrake would say in reply- should she refuse, well.
The wind could always get colder.
[[Experience five of the following types of pain as aided by magic: Freezing, Burning, Cutting, Poisoning, Choking, Breaking. Once complete, return and link to each thread. You may not make use of healing magic, but may wait for things to naturally heal.]]
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| Deceased |
| Mare :: Equine :: 15.3 :: 15 |
| Alex |
MANDRAKE
don't cross me, for your own safety
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Frozen. I am frozen. My blood has turned to ice and indeed, the water dripping sodden from my skin clung to it in particles of ice. Every step takes effort, and my joints have begun to lock. Finally, I am hobbling, lips curled like a panther's grimace of disgust, and I reach the shrine, where the black being comes into form.
I can smell cold and wind coming off her, and I narrow my eyes, annoyed with this game. But still, it would be better to keep a civil tongue when speaking to a goddess, regardless of the freezing numbness she has, and is, causing me. "Very well, goddess." I say, and if I had not been better trained to an iron mind, I would have found it difficult to keep the disdain out of my voice. Without a thanks and without a goodbye, I turn and begin to hobble away, grimacing with pain.
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Image Credit
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Black god for my black heart. [moon god]
