S h a j a k e Darkness lingered too deep within his mind. Their voices spoke to him in their raspy style, and if you swear you could hear them speaking, it was like nails on a chalk. Every attempt to block them out was taken a toll on his mind. He wasn't able to think straight anymore. Paranoia plagued him like a virus as every step he took was followed by something unknown moving in the corner of his green eyes. He'd turn to stare, trying to reassure himself it was another soul, only to know it was the cruel trick of his mind. Seconds seemed to be hours, hours were days. And then the days turned into what felt like months. Somewhere he found himself headed to a place cast off from the eyes of others.
The world was blanketed in the light of mid-day, cold winds that signaled the oncoming of winter. Rogue strands of black mane fell from the mass mounted to his neck swept into his line of view, fogging over. His elegant shook about, moving into the air to throw it. Around there was no sign of his disease. They never played with him in the daylight. As horrible as they were, they were his only means of company. And yet they weren't real, and lived within his brain.
Cold sunlight fell in through the openings in the golden canopy, lighting his path. It curved and winded between the trees, and broke the wave of ground foliage. On occasion he caught himself lowering his head down to grab some food as he kept his steady pace. The area was void of other life in this time of day. The Sun was hung in the middle of the blue sky, stating mid-day. Yet the place was void of souls. A smile came across the dapple gray stallion's facade, seeing that was quite well for him. Anti-socialness was a gift to his mind.
Scents soon brought upon his nose, feeling the dizzy state that came to him when in a place visited many times by others. Their smells brought a frown to his face, not disgusted or offended, just bothered by the amount of souls that came here. Time must not be spent too much at this place. Chance of others coming upon him was too much. Blocking away fear that was never appearing, he braced himself for the idea of having a forced conversation with another. Words never came from him, therefore it almost wounded him to speak.
Feeling presences become heavier in this place, he halted himself next to a large tree. Crimson and golden leaves were scattered around his black hooves as he eyed the area. A slight rise was further along in front of him. Seeing it bothered him slightly. Others would be able to come upon him from it, though odds played him unlikely. He had the scent of a different kind, completely unnatural. He smelt like a corpse, and why he never knew why. Somewhere he had the scent become embedded with his body. It wasn't bother him, yet others didn't always take kindly to him unique smell. Maybe he'd get lucky and it'd drive them away. Or if one came across him, wouldn't have much to say to him.
Life played itself as a game of chance like cards. Sometime you win, other times you lose. And if you happen to mess up beyond repair, life comes to hunt you down.
"And here lies the words of a man void of a voice." |
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table by whit
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Deep and long came the swoosh, swoosh produced by massive white wings. Flecked with gold the glittered in the sun as glorious as a jewel. Alas, after my meeting in the woods I was glad to be back in the fresh air. My golden hooves were tucked close to my body as I swayed and swirled and dove through the air laughing at the top of my lungs. Sparrows and hawks alike came, drawn by the activity, to frolic with me in the wind. My eyes swirl the brightest blue as I continue my dance up high in the air.
It is shortly after this that I see a dark blight blot upon a hill in the Threshold. Now, normally, I would pass the Threshold by to allow for better souls to lead home the Newlings. However, today seems to be turning out to be one of those days in which I am stopped by piles of things in my path. It was not as if my venturing to the land last held by my family had gone well. I remembered that I needed to stay away from the World's Edge, but I'm quite certain I remember positive words about the land of the Dragon's Throat, and that is where I'm headed. I cannot afford to stop again now, or I'll be stuck here in the outlands at night. I keep flying for a few more beats before I groan and turn back around to where the black blight had been standing.
From the sky I fall quickly, diving long and fast, only to pull up at the utter last moment, wings splayed, to cease my descent. I land, my mane and tail flying annoyingly about me to look at what seems to be a very smelly equine. He was off in many ways, but alas, if my recent trip to the forest had taught me anything at all, I should wait until I spoke to this horse to truly judge him...though..by the gods, I might have been better off making an exception here by the smell of him. I take a deep breath and speak with my breath somewhat held in, "Hello sir, is there anything you seek?"
{ooc: sorry, somewhat rambly, but meh. I tried.haha}
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S h a j a k e
Something was coming upon him, his moving ears catching it. Spades of grass around his ebony hooves had caught his attention, already having his head down to grab a bite of them. His teeth were already gazing them as the sound erupted. Everything moved fast as panic went through his veins. Blood turned cold, green eyes became alert. A growl almost came from his throat. It was uncommon for him to be aggressive, then again, this place was not home. He was a visitor, not yet accepted into their society. There wasn't a single idea he had of their actions toward newcomers.
Though want came upon him puzzled him as he looked. A winged horse, fairly young looking. They looked healthy, though when they spoke, he was able to see their disgust to his scent. A frown fell upon his face in haste. Not even knowing another creature in this place, and already they were bothered by him. He needed to say something. In his throat, his vocal cords scraped and begged for breath and moisture. Given what they needed, he attempted at conversation. Or maybe just a sentence or two.
"Ex.....Excu-... Excuse my.. s-s-sce..nt sir. Sha...... S-.. Shajake."
Pain roared through his throat at the attempt. He felt hot and embarrassed for his lack of words, truly hoping the winged stallion would be able to understand him. A quick swallow brought the burning sensation away from three seconds before it returned. His green eyes kept themselves upon the other horse before looking area, browsing the area. Dare he take one step towards the other creature. Thoughts went to his scent seeing the Pegasus attempt to ignore it. He had forgotten of how he smelled, never being able to smell it. It was just something your body gets accustomed to over time. Yet it seemed as if here no one was running around smelling like a damned corpse.
He gave them a smile, seeing a black form in the corner of his left eye. His head shot to the side to look, paranoia working at him. It took only seconds to remember he was not alone, and that there was simply others standing there with him. He probably was strange enough when they first saw him, yet this was going to make it worse. A black tail flew from behind him, running along his hind legs to bring him to consciousness. Just being in this place was bad enough, though messing up his first impression was going to mess him up.
A nervous chuckle came from him, or at least what could be called one. The sound itself didn't come out like one, and would probably bring a strange look to him. A step forward with his head was there to show the winged horse that he wasn't there for issues. The voices spoke to him, attempting make him do something he was liable to regret later one. Why not just attack them now? Let them know who you are and what sins to purged yourself in glory with. Do it now, and let them like the others in your path. His mind went into warfare; this one here had done nothing to him. The disease of his mind brought a headache to him. Suddenly this encounter wasn't going to be perfect. Not even close to perfect, and probably not very well. Already there was the problems clearly stated, not to mention his cursed smell. He made a note within his mind to attempt ways of removing it. For the complete release of his sins.
OOC: Bleh. Sorry.
"And here lies the words of a man void of a voice." |
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table by whit
 Casimir
What was the blind doing on this crisp Orangemoon day? Wondering, of course. Even if he were almost blind, he would still explore and look for other horses. It was just something he wanted to do, and something he enjoyed doing. Though he didn’t look like he should it. The nervous prematuring white draft walked lazily today, for there was nothing out in the sunshine for him to fear. He was afraid of the light. But there were still scary things that happened in the daytime. Kipp flashed into his head. His poor brother, flailing around singing and thinking he was a demon. He was still worried about him, and he had wondered off to wherever. He knew he would have to go searching for him. Maybe he would find him where his hooves led him?
But his hooves led him on a different path this day. He wondered through the forest, moving through the threshold. He was about to go a different direction when a scent caught in his nostrils. There were other horses about, and his own curiosity grew on him, and he changed directions. However there were two horses, not one. He started to grow nervous already, and they were in a conversation. One was that of a white pegasus with strange blue markings. He spoke in an even tone. The other one, however, did not. He was a simple equine of similar colors to Casimir’s, and he stuttered like him to. Now his curiosity had taken him, and he slowly made his way across to them. He paused, uncertain of what he should do next, and started to shake slightly. He words were caught in his throat, and he said nothing, just simply took a look at each of them, and then stared at the ground.
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My swirling blue orbs blink in surprise as the horse appears to be...well...afraid of me. My entire life thus far I had thought I'd yet to strike fear into the heart of another. I was always the "sultry" stallion, like my mother was a mare, always the one to be ogled, but never the one to command. I hated it, I was supposed to be a stallion, damn it, and I did not want to be fawned over like a mare.
Perhaps I should burn all my hair off.
At least then I couldn't possibly be seen as such a pretty stud.
Inwardly, I make a face at myself and my thoughts.
This horse, though, did not look like one whom it would be honourable to intimidate. He seemed like a lost soul in need of mental healthcare...and I bath, I mentally tack onto the list once more, as a breeze brings me his scent again. Though I instantly am made to regret my negative thoughts towards this stallion as, in his introduction, he apologizes for his scent. A small wave of both guilt and empathy arises in me for this poor specimen of a stallion for he is like me. We both are judged by what other horses see on our outside. "I am pleased to meet your acquaintance Shajake. Though, I believe it is I who should be apologizing for making my discomfort obvious. It is not right to judge others, especially by what you or someone else might perceive to be a flaw. Forgive me for my actions, I am Eios." I am about to add on my question again of, "is there anything you seek" when my ears swivel to pick up sounds of another arrival. Perhaps this was what the stallion flinched at earlier, his hearing better than mine own? Father Earth would be the first to laugh at this thought, for he was always chiding me and my habit of overhearing conversations. Soon enough, my depthless orbs are greeted by the sight of yet another horse. His body is oddly adorned(though who am I to judge) and his eyes are similar in color to mine when I am at my happiest, though they do not swirl.
"Hell sir," I proffer him in my deep baritone voice, "I am Eios, how fare thee thus fine Orangemoon day?" , I continue when he seems to be caught up in embarrassment. The more I see these stallions, the more I speak to them, I find that I am not the only stud who might not be the most fitting of the stallion stereotype. Perhaps mares were not all like my cousin, who clearly had thought me stupid.
haha, comes the inward chuckle. Father Earth might not be directly around me any longer, but his lessons were everywhere. Even now, he was helping me along, reminding me who I was, and holding me up.
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S h a j a k e
And now he had to just become the most popular horse within the forest. The voices rung about in his skull, their dark words and phrases only partially pieced together slamming on the interior of his skull. They were only looking for an exit, and then after a way to control him. Yet at this moment there was a new voice to enter his mind. It came only from outside of his mind, from the winged horse, who gave his name to be Eios. His own name seemed so dull, yet it was different for the rest. Now it was a welcoming thought.
Sounds began to play in his head, hearing the faint sound of hooves somewhere. Instantly his green eyes went to the hooves of Eios, wondering if the stallion even walked upon his hooves that much. He had wings, didn't he? They probably were better senses of transportation as walking. Yet, the hoofbeats never came from the winged male. Not himself either. A frown came upon his face, ears down as he began to prepare himself for what was to come to him. Eyes moved in sharp moves, elegant head moving in a jerk as he looked in the sound's direction. Nothing would surprise him if his mind had found ways to manifest itself into reality. Though the idea of it was a fear within his mind.
When the draft came upon him, he understood the meaning of this. His company quickly introduced himself, leaving Shajake not knowing the idea of how he was about to take this. Again, he was never the one to speak much. Just because a pair of awfully strange stallions had come upon him in his peace was going to change that. In a shread of hope, his eyes went to his established partner, hoping that in some way he would be introduced. His throat lurched, feeling it finally catch a grip that he might be able to throw his name out in a normal voice.
"Shajake."
It came out in the voice he never wanted to hear again. His true voice. It wasn't the usual stutter he held with it. What was pouring out of his throat was deep, roaring voice with a hint of dark laughter in it. Now the pair would know of his true self. It was in the way he talked, how he acted, and how he smelled.
Hatred of himself rushed over his soul, green eyes dark in his anger. Only a few minutes of company, and he was about to have them know of who he really is. The souls here were nice to him. They weren't about to be allowed to notice the demon he was. A growl erupted from his throat and released itself.
"Do not think of me as a monster for how my voice plays. It is only the monster in my MIND"
He stepped back fast. It was going downhill. He wasn't meant to be here, he wasn't meant to speak. They weren't allowed to know his voice. Never exactly who was, and what monster was living inside of his head. Yet this was happening. Here and now. Right in the middle of the day, in this damned forest.
And now, lets have them know you're deep dark game, little broken man. Become a monster like myself. And let me be your new SOUL.
"And here lies the words of a man void of a voice."
OOC: So you guys don't freak out, the voices are the italics. He doesn't think them, they're just a dark broken part of his brain working against him.
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table by whit
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