I wander into the Basin, my wounds numb with pain. The cold winds didn't help either. I shiver, the frigid air seeping under my skin. My coat was dappled with splotches if dried blood. My stomach screaming in pain as I stepped forward. I still held that mouthful of feathers that I had grabbed from that bay stallion. How strange and strong he was, almost primitive. I wanted to speak to someone, possibly the healer. My wounds needed to be mended.
I spit out the feathers, a few of them splattered with blood. As a trophy I pick them up one by one and weave them into my mane and tail. Once all five feathers were securely fastening into my mane and tail I continue to walk, proud to wear the blood splattered feathers. The sky was beginning to brighten as the sun rose above the horizon. A multitude of colors danced through the sky. Hues of purple, pink, red, orange and blue melded with one another, creating an interesting mix of colors.
A small puff of air slides from my nostrils and a dark form shimmers beside me. I look over, my lavender eyes softer than usual. "You fought well, but you must improve." The words that ring through my head are deep, stern. I nod, realizing I hadn't fought in quite a while. "Usually my victims don't try to defend themselves too hard." I sigh, irritated. I had barely made a scratch on him! I'd only gotten the taste of his blood once or twice. "Maybe you should learn from some of the unicorns here. Have you thought of that?" I pause, my hooves digging into the snow. "Not really... do you think all the unicorns here are racist?" I look at the ghost, it's red eyes glinting. "It's possible. I doubt all of them are racist though." I sigh, wincing as the wounds sent out another surge of pain. "Is it possible they have an organization of some sort?" The stallion shrugs, walking forward a few paces. "I only came to speak briefly, I must be off." I watch as he fades away, disappearing into nothing but a cloud of ash that's blown away by a forceful wind.
And now, I was alone.
Snow seeps around my hooves, moving gracefully as I wondering deeper into the snow covered ground. In the mists of the mountain I look about, seeing the trickling smoke from the hot springs. I’m a hardened mare, and I’ve never once used the hot springs to soothe myself. Maybe someday, when I’m older, but for now, there’s not a chance. Black skin continues to touch soft white snow, and I shiver a bit, still not used to the cold against me once more. How I missed this place, and after a warm welcome back, a bit of rest, and a good fight, I felt better. My energy was spent today patrolling, feeling my black body course with power. I was a Corporal after all; a true unicorn warrior, and I had a job to do once more, and I would not sit around. It seemed that the Plague was slow moving for the moment, so I set myself out for protecting the land on this semi sunny snow day. The wind blew through my hair, creating chills on my silver and black neck, making me more alert. Suddenly, wind carries sound, and I hear a voice. I turn my head and in the distant I see a figure, one that my silver eyes don’t recognize. It’s a unicorn, so I’m not bothered to throw her out. However, I investigate, wondering if she’s new or just happened to stumble on to this wintery land. She’s talking to herself. I almost laugh, but she’s serious, and doesn’t seem me walk up to her.
“Racist? You’re racist? That’s interesting…” I circle her, looking at her up and down. She’s young, but the younger the better. I know children are easier to mold, and will take this to my full advantage. “There is a reason why this land is only unicorn my dear. Elizabeth, warrior of the racist group, The Plague. Are you interested in joining perhaps?”
Words
Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned, nor hell a fury like a woman scorned
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The soft crunching of snow and clacking of hooves announces the arrival of another. An actual, living horse that is. She's a coal black color that's shimmering in different hues as the sky's lit up with those many colors. Her mane is a silvery color, and her tail is the same color although her tail is dipped in black. White squiggles line her back, and her horn sticks from her head. I hadn't seen her ever before, but she seemed to belong here, I could smell it.
I grin, showing off the bloody feathers in my hair. "Does it look like I'm not racist?" I snort, flashing a glance to my feathers. "I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have bloody pegasus feathers in my hair if I wasn't racist." I watch as the mare looks at me as though I might be some special creature.
I didn't quite understand what she was looking at, but I ignored her. Until of course, she spoke again. I nod my head, rolling her name around in my head, letting it become imprinted into my mind. "I'm Azucar, it's nice to meet you, Elizabeth of the... Plague?" I tilt my head slightly, curious about this 'racist' group. "Of course I'd be interested in joining the Plague. Why is it I haven't heard of it before?" I stare at the mare, looking over her. She did have the build of a warrior, muscular and slender. My muscles rippled under my lavender brushes coat and I nod my elegant head.
Maybe if I join this 'Plague' group I'll become a little more widely know. I pause, then smile, somewhat cruelly. "If you're a warrior, you wouldn't mind teaching. I do need to learn a few things about battling..." I glance at my injuries, wondering if this mare, Elizabeth could teach me a few things. I needed to learn more about battle. "Did you hear me speaking to Diablo?" I ask her, my ears tilted to the side. Would she think I was a freak? Or would she think I was better molding material?
Who knows.
She moves, showing me the bloody feathers in her purple mane. I see her face now, filled with purple marks. She’s interesting already, and she’s just a child, I can see that now. Maybe only a yearling, but just young enough to still be naïve. The bloody feathers make me smile, and I ponder to myself how she got them. I laugh, and I already feel she will be a good addition our little group.
“Why of course you haven’t heard of it. It’s a secret group of unicorns that pride themselves in their race, and know that we as a species are superior to all others. Psyche, the DarkEmpress that is the rulers of this land, happens to be the leader of the Plague. The reason it’s secret is because of all that diplomacy shit, but I don’t care much for that.” I toss my head, my hair flowing with the wind as it brushes on the silver on my right shoulder. There are scars there. Almost every inch of my body is covered in deep scars that I had gotten many years ago, and I often like to show them off. “Yes I’m a warrior, have been for most of my life. I am one of the Corporals in this Basin, and a warrior in the Plague. Teaching is something I can do, but I’ll warn you, I’ll go hard on you. Being a warrior is hard, and you have to be tough in order to do it. It’s no use being on the battlefield and running away. But yes, I can teach you if you wish.” I continue to show my scars, not letting her forget that I am a hardened warrior. “Tell me, how is it that you got those feathers?”
Words
Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned, nor hell a fury like a woman scorned
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I listen closely to each word the mare speaks, intent on joining the Plague. "A secret group? I'm becoming more and more interested." I grin a devious grin, my brain running through all the thoughts thoroughly. I look at the mare, my plum eyes settling on her many scars that she began to show off.
How foolish, showing off your scars. "You may think scars show how brave and strong you are, but in truth the more scars you take upon you the weaker you are growing. If your body becomes fully enveloped in scars, you will be unable to move without feeling pain. How I should know this, let's say it was my uncle, this has happened to him." I speak, my words flat and cautious. I didn't want this mare to think I was a snob or anything, but scars show that you are aging, that you are ignorant. That all you want is to fight. Reopening scars causes more pain than you could ever imagine.
I sigh, flicking my ears forward. "I'd love to train with you at some point. I need to improve my moves." I stretch my legs, smiling. Even though I had fought that bastard stallion from the Throat very recently, I had room to improve. I listen as the mare asks me how I got my feathers. I grin, thinking of my fight. "I attacked a pegasus from the Throat. What's weird is he had wings and antlers, but I decided he should be attacked anyway. We fought for a bit and he flew away like a coward, with his tail between his legs! I got a mouthful of his feathers, so I took them as a prize." I show off my feathers once again.
[[So short, sorry. :/ ]]
Mauja the Frozen Light Posts: 1,392
| Outcast atk: 6.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 7.5 |
| Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.2 :: 14 HP: 79.5 | Buff: HUNTER |
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Irma :: Snowy Owl :: Terrorize
& Diego :: Eurasian Eagle-Owl :: Rage
Neo |
"Idiots," Mauja muttered under his breath, slowly picking his way across the Basin.
Perched nearby the two mares — well, the girl and the foolish adult — was the white owl, her pale eyes unblinking as she stared at them from her seat on a rock. In spite of herself, she found herself drawn to the intrigue of her bonded's life, though she'd never admit it. And, frankly, it was less interesting when it was joyful, perfect.. it had been thrilling when that foolish Pegasus had flown into their nest, thrilling to tear a piece of now-cold flesh from his ear, smell his blood in the air — so the things which she knew would irk him, she was keen on reporting. If she had been a horse, it would've been with unmasked glee she listened in to their exchange of words, but alas, she was an owl, and the only sign of life she gave was the occasional shift of her head. Mauja could feel it, though, and it held him suspended somewhere between anger and amusement. In many ways, his owl was a nasty piece of work, ruthless and stone cold, but the melding of their souls ensured she was (mostly) harmless.. to his friends.
As it was, he wasn't sure he'd count either of the females into that category, because so far, neither had really impressed him. Snorting, he flicked his tail and kept walking, oddly lackluster in the sunlight, quite corporeal and mortal. By day he seemed nothing more than a white horse, but by night, the soft glow of the moon lit him up, a beacon for all predators to find, a specter to frighten those who were not used to it. Not that wishing for darkness did him any good — the sun wasn't about to set just because he asked it to.
"You might find," he said icily once they were within range of his voice, his cold eyes boring into one and then the other. "That caring for diplomacy does you well in the long run." There was no sneer upon his face, nothing but chill in his voice and within his eyes. Impassively he stared at them, forcing down the urge to throttle them both. "You might also find, that secret groups do not remain secret so long once you start blabbing about them to complete strangers." His eyes narrowed as he looked upon Elizabeth only. "And that obeying the orders from the Crux might work in your favor. Psyche is not one you wish to displease." Chill dripped from his voice, a slight edge to it, and with a brief look of disgust he turned to Azucar. He didn't trust the filly to keep her mouth shut, and that was the reason he hadn't told her about the Plague when bringing her home. Children, who proudly wore their racism upon their sleeve, were useless, nothing but a hindrance. They'd had a few leaks in the past, and if everyone was going to do their best to announce their presence to the world — well, let's just say it made Mauja feel more inclined to let them get blasted to smithereens and then, bitterly, go into hiding and wish them all a happy death. If they weren't smart enough to keep quiet, he wasn't going to die for them.
"But the damage is done," the marble-hearted said coldly, clearly disapproving of it, of how loose their tongues were. "So I suggest both of you shut up about the Plague in the future, or face Psyche's wrath when she finds out you've put us all at risk." Giving both of them a long, cold glare, he flicked his tail and prepared to leave. They'd better heed his warning, or he'd have to do something drastic — like freeze their tongues off. In that moment of darkness, he thought that he might very well prefer a mute army.
Shiny Toy Guns - Stripped
angels, they fell first, but I'm still here
Tilting my head, I see a figure in the distance. I couldn't make out any features, but from what I could see this stallion was the one who had brought me here. With eyes narrowed I wait for the stallion to come closer, and once I'm able to hear him I look at him, rage bubbling inside of me. I flick my ears back, throwing a few of my own words at him. "Well, sir, I'm pretty sure no horn-less horse is wandering around here. Unless I'm wrong?" Flicking my tail, I stride closer to the spotted stallion. Would it be messed up if I tried to seduce him? Shaking my head, I smile a little at the thought of doing that. Flirting with an old man.... oh boy that sounds... interesting.
He looked over the age of five, so he mist be a super old man. I decide flirting is not the best, so how about... I flick through my tactics, trying to decide which to choose for this specific situation. I decide that just acting casual is the best for now. But he begins speaking again, glaring at the silver and black mare, Elizabeth. I keep an eye on the owl that's nearby, my gaze constantly flickered from the owl to Elizabeth and the stallion. What wast his name? I don't believe he's told me his name. I slap my magenta tail against my hocks, gazing at the stallion. "Sir, I don't believe you've told me your name yet. What is it?" With ice cold eyes, I gaze at the stallion, waiting for his words.
[[Bleh post is bleh :/]]
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