| User-based Random Event |
| Stallion :: Equine :: :: |
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03-26-2013, 11:54 PM
(This post was last modified: 03-28-2013, 07:44 PM by NPC.)
N P C
You're a wolf in disguise, gonna eat my heart tonight
The wind blew over the snowy tundra, leaving a chill going down his spine. The flock moved with precision, though it was quite a small one. Four sheep moved behind the ram that was leading them through. The wind blew so hard that the tiny creatures had a hard time moving forward. The ram bleated, telling the others to follow him closely. He could see something up ahead, and he wondered if it was something that they could use to get out of the dreaded whiteness around them. The ram wasn’t as fully coated as the four ewes that followed his back closely, but they weren’t used to such cold weather. It was summer, which the ram knew, and being this far north had driven them off course to where they were trying to go.
Across the white there was an sculpture of blue standing about, what was known in the land of Helovia to be the Frozen Arch. The mob moved quickly towards it, bleats of joy soon echoing in its icy walls. It was cold still for the ram, but there was nothing he could do about it. The ewes behind him started chatting, and he shushed them. He wanted to make sure they were in a safe place, so that nothing happened to his remaining flock. They had started with him and several other ewes, and some of his young children, but most had died or were eaten on the trek to find new land. Their old land was dwindling, and there had been a fire that had taken most of the field and forest, and there was nothing they could do but move on.
Now he waited for something to come and strike at them, his yellow eyes ever alert. These were dangerous times for them.
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Image credits
| Hidden Account |
| Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16hh :: 8 |
| M.E. |
03-31-2013, 10:33 PM
(This post was last modified: 05-27-2013, 12:04 AM by Zikar-Sin.)
....Did that hurt you...?
[Sorry for the wait! I have no attention span and I love Disney movies.]
~.~.~.~
Zikar-Sin was a Disciple. He was not a Predator. Though as the stallion made his careful away amongst the craggy lands of the deep freeze, the intellectual supposed that, maybe, the called for a little more grit.
The Goddess’ gift was an empowering tonic to Sin. In the blackness of a moonless night, even when the Lady herself was absent from her own star-strewn palace, Sin could see everything and too much at the same time. He never realized how dull his night senses were; as modest as the Disciple was, Sin had always supposed he had decent night-vision, or at least it was as proficient as any daywalker could hope for. Yet now, the curtain of stars before his eyes kissed the colors of the world—those colors which Sin was woefully unaware of being absent in the first place— and they blossomed in the darkness as though born from it, ready in it, vibrant and alive and needing no sun to prove their worth. The night was a living thing now, and now Sin could see it as well as know it.
Was that how Myrddin felt when he regained his sight?
With a warm feeling coating his throat, Sin remembered the night his Haruspex regained his sight. Those pale eyes gazed at Sin for so long, and yet the Disciple didn’t mind it in the slightest. He could only imagine such a joy to be able to observe the world you devoted your entire heart and being after so much darkness. Was Sin so pleasing to look at? He supposed that he was in a strictly aesthetic sense of observation, and he dared not gauge the subjective intricacies of his Haruspex’s likings. The tangled mass associated with Tolio was enough for Sin; the dappled boy enjoyed the simple relationship between the Teacher and Student he shared with Myrddin. He didn’t need to contemplate whether there was a deeper meaning to it; it was full enough in its surface form.
But now-- back to the colorful night.
Sin contemplated the Weaver’s words once more: ?“…you must assist me in finding the appropriate supplies. I will require some wool to get it started; I've seen some rams up near the Arch, so you might have some luck there." It had been some time since Sin ventured further than the Steppe lands; the only times he deemed it necessary to leave the frozen wasteland that was his home was when he ventured there, long ago, with a striped filly of heart-melting disposition; and when he escorted his master through the wildlands of Helovia so he could regain the sight he coveted so much. Now the Disiple found himself surrounded by polished mirrors of ice and carved archways leading the dappled boy on; he felt as though he were an Emperor in his Hall of Mirrors, sans all the scandals and debt and all that rubbish. Scents in this place were dead wafts on the breeze; the cold wasn’t one for kindling the sublties of life. As such, Sin had to focus quite intensely on the brittle wind, searching for some trace of his quarry.
Ah-ha!
The dappled stallion broke into a swift trot, doing his best to let his steps fall easily so that the sound of his cloven feet would be muffled. He spotted them not so far away, a small crowd of about four or five of the creatures emerging from one of those characteristic arches that dotted this land. With a lash of a short tail, Sin contemplated the short, sturdy creatures with a critical eye. I wonder how resilient that coat is, thought the Disciple, I wonder how durable their skin is; how long would it take for them to bleed? Do they scream like us? A hard, curious edge came upon the icy gleam of the stallion’s eyes.
He was not a fighter or a killer, but he was on a mission.
Sin bolted for one of the ewes, his tail snapping as he brought the sharp tips of his forehooves down towards the ewe who straggled the furthest behind her comrades.
~.~.~.~
[This thread was made and my response was written before the season change; as such I believe he still retains the God of the Moon's gift, at least within this thread. If I'm incorrect I will edit the post.]
...Forgive Me...
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| User-based Random Event |
| Stallion :: Equine :: :: |
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N P C
You're a wolf in disguise, gonna eat my heart tonight
The ewe that was trapped under the horse bleated, and the others were notified of the unicorn stallion’s presence. The other three ewes ran toward the ram, and the ram stepped in front of them. He bleated at the unicorn stallion, saying in essence “Leave her alone!” though his words were not understandable because of difference in species. Horses, at least that ram knew of, were not carnivores, so why was this one attacking his ewe for? He was determined to get her out from his grip, and he charged at the large stallion, his large horns shining in the ice cave. He wanted to scare him and not necessarily hit him just yet, but just try to get him to back away from the ewe, so she could escape. Though he didn’t know it would work, he still out try it, and if worse came to worse, he would have to battle the unicorn for her.
The other ewes watched as their ram charged at the large horse. They were trembling with fear, and they stood, lined up perfectly, again the farthest walls from were all the action was taking place. The eldest ewe thought of a brilliant plan then. She bleated it to the other two, saying that if they ran away, it would be less likely that the giant unicorn would be able to find them. They all agree, and scattered in different directions. One went left, one went right, and the other went in a forward direction. They ran as fast as they could, and picked a hiding spot that was not near each other, and bleated when they found one. The bleated echoed, so it was difficult to tell where each one was, but two in fact were very close to each, more close than they realized.
So now, Zikar Sin, you are going on a scavenger hunt for the other three ewes. But first, you must deal with the ram and the current ewe you have underfoot. How will this turn out, I wonder?
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Image credits
| Hidden Account |
| Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16hh :: 8 |
| M.E. |
....Did that hurt you...?
Those sharp, cloven hooves never quite made their mark; the dappled stallion balked in his movement, his body coiled and tensed as his ears caught wind of an agitated bleat not too far ahead of him. Being devoid of the passionate outbursts usually associated with his sex, Sin’s hesitation left him hanging awkwardly in the air, his forehooves suspended without aim or direction; he quickly backed up on his hind legs, giving a snort and a toss of his many dreadlocks as the king- crowned ram made his threat and his challenge. The ram turned out to be a quick little spitfire though; as Sin’s hooves made their decent to the snow-packed ground, the Disciple gave a quite involuntary grunt of pain as he felt those ridged horns dig into his shins. Sin was forced to back up several steps, his retreat careful as he minded the slippery footing, before he was sure he was away from the danger and he sat analyzing the situation.
He felt no fear from his trial; though his blood pulsed and pounded in those dappled ears of his, there was no trepidation or anxiety willing Sin’s limbs to shake. No, what thudded through the dappled-one’s veins was a sort of excitement; it was quite an unfamiliar thing for Sin to feel, these base passions of a predator, but they weren’t totally unknown to the stallion. Try as he might to suppress them, Sin periodically had these brushes of primal desire—the last instance of which he had pined for the wings of some cosmic-patterned dumpling of a Pegasus he had met in the Threshold, long ago.
As the scene lay out before him—a bold, obviously enraged ram protecting his scattered herd of ewes from the interloper—Sin’s eyes began to take in those details that projected in his mind some sort of plan of attack. He supposed going after the ewes on their own would be easy enough; they made no move to protect themselves, only scurrying away on those stubby little legs as though they were taking them places. However, Sin also knew his quarry were an agile lot, and figured it would take some time to wear them down long enough to skin them. Should I wait for them to die before I attempt to take their hide? Sin asked himself, an honest, studious question as his icy glare caught the dull gleam that emanated from the ram’s horns. Sin’s interest immediately caught at the sight; he dimly remembered the Weaver saying something about his venom-maw’d hellhoud, and how the pup wished for a bone to chew on idly. A mere bone? Sin wondered, a devilish, brilliant idea forming in his brainpan, I wonder how the hell-hound Talbot would react to a horn to gambol about with? I suppose he would be well pleased with it, yes.
And so, the Disciple made his decision; he would mark the scurrying legs of the retreating ewes and memorize their escape routes should he need to pursue them—but his main prey for now was the very cornerstone of their herd: the ram who boldly stood between Sin and his prize.
As knowledgeable the Disciple may be, Sin knew good and well he had no experience in fighting whatsoever; any brutish challenge made by other studs of old were instantly rebuffed by the retreat of the dappled stud. Regardless, he lowered his spiraled horn in preparation of attack; in his mind, this was no mere fight, but a scientific pursuit that would culminate to the acquisition of his monocle. As vain as that venture might be, Sin had convinced himself it was a venture of science; there was no talking him out of it. He was decided.
With a hard snort, Sin suddenly broke for the ram, his head lowered threateningly and his spiral horn ready to lock. It was not a piercing stiletto instrument used by many of his race; no, Sin would use his horn to lock is opponent into place. And crush them.
[Ignores the ewes for now; goes after ram, his head lowered so he may head-butt the ram]
...Forgive Me...
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| User-based Random Event |
| Stallion :: Equine :: :: |
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N P C
You're a wolf in disguise, gonna eat my heart tonight
The ewes sat sweating in the midst of the Frozen Arch, waiting for their ram to come find them. But what they didn't know is that that would never happen. The fight between the ram and the unicorn wasn't going to end well, at least for the ram. Between the ram and the unicorn lies the horns of both, but the unicorn's is more of a killing machine. The ram knows this, but he has no way to defend himself against it, and he charges at the unicorn as well. However, he makes a critical mistake in his travel.
The plight of the ram to protect his ewes is lost as the ram loses his footing, slipping into the ice below a little more than he should. He sunk just enough for his own horns to not even reach their mark, but for the unicorn's to reach his, which just happened to be in the middle of his head. With a crack, a crunch, and a final bleat from the ram, the horn sawed it's way into his skull, tearing up the front of his brain. The ram almost didn't feel any pain, and it's brain shut down quickly, and it didn't even realize what had happened.
When the unicorn decides to take his horn out, he will see the icky goo and blood. The ewes hear the bleating as a dying wish, and they start to panic, looking around, and actually escape from their hiding places, but are very confused and afraid of everything. They are easy targets, and if approached quickly, will stand shaking in fear, for they have no idea what to do.
talk talk talk
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Image credits
| Hidden Account |
| Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16hh :: 8 |
| M.E. |
....Did that hurt you...?
The rush Sin felt as his horn crushed and penetrated the pate of his lesser adversary caused the dappled stallion to experience slight lightheadedness. All of it—the feeling of the bone giving away underneath the force of his blow, the sight of all sorts of bodily fluids and inner matter pouring from the wound, the cloying, sickly metallic coat of blood that settled in the air, intoxicating and suffocating—made the Disciple feel as though he were dancing precariously on clouds. It wasn’t quite a euphoric feeling, though neither could the stallion sufficiently say it was unpleasant; he felt distinctly disconnected from himself, separated from his inner identity, and yet emboldened by the knowledge that he had just took a life. Oh yes—he had just taken a life. Was it a lesser achievement because it belonged to a dumb brute of a ram? Should it even constituted as an achievement? The mark of murder was clear upon Sin’s brow, however, and he felt a deep pull within him grabbing him, reaching for him, yanking him below the snow and permafrost into the deepest void of defilement. Even more strange was the fact Sin observed this effect with a distinct air of objectivity, totally separate from it, as though it were nothing more than a trivial object of fancy to investigate.
Did he feel himself a sadist for being so unfeeling for the poor ram’s fate? Of course not; as the dappled stallion extricated himself from the still-warm remains of what was once a proud, defiant creature, Sin eyed the damage he had done with a note of purely academic interest. The gore that poured from the broken skull, the awkward angle in which the corpse of the deceased creature lay…all of it sparked a rampant intellectual imagination within the Disciple, and admittedly it was several minutes before he was able to shake himself from his reverie of thought. No, Sin, he thought with a slight chuckle, we mustn’t stand here all night—there is work to be done. Of course; he couldn’t spend the entire star-strewn evening gazing and wondering and asking and hypothesizing about the anatomy of a male sheep—no matter how bad he pined for it.
And so he worked. For the next several hours the dappled stallion kneeled, working meticulously, intricately, tirelessly towards his goal of skinning the ram. For an equine creature such as Sin, it had the potential of blossoming into an impossible task—but Sin was a man of science. Many a night had been spent using his cloven feet as instruments of knowledge, using them as tweezers and scalpels, needles and shears in pursuit of his intellectual endeavors. Though it wasn’t a simple matter, Sin soon found himself in possession of a great bundle of folded, if bloody, sheepskin, complete with a thick layer of winter wool (he had been unable to separate the wool from the skin). At the end of his labors, the dappled boy stood up tall, his grey hide and white socks marred with crimson sheep’s blood; his eyes sparkled in the night with a satisfied glow, icy irises staring here and there in the cold of the Frozen Arch. He lashed his tail, taking in a refreshing sigh as he cooled his laboring body.
A stray thought crossed his mind; what ever happened to the other ewes? Sin let this question dominate his brain-pan for a span of moments, then he shook it from him as though it were an irksome fly. There was still work to be done.
And so the chambers of the ice-strewn Arch echoed with the crackling of the ram’s skull as Sin strove to detach the horns from the deceased skull, and the beating of his hooves served as the rhythm of the ewes’ lament. Their kingdom had fallen; their emperor was slain.
[Leaves the ewes; skins the ram and takes a horn from his skull.]
...Forgive Me...
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Come Little Black Sheep (Sin Questing)
