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So beautifully they make you, kill
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The air was musty and thick, a soft mist seeming to fall from the tree tops and shower softly onto the boggy earth and everything that crawled across it. A filmy dew developed on rotting branches, the weight of thriving moss and the soft push of a breeze making each branch rub against each other, scraping the remaining bark from contact points. They whined and moaned eerily, casting a dark feeling over the misty land. It was the only sound I could hear.
My body felt heavy with mud as it crawled up my dark tainted legs, over spray casting across my barrel and the back of my front limbs. The mist created a dark shade on my back, as well as clinging to my stringy mane and forelock that hung over bright eyes, twisting around both ears and crawling down my face like spider webs. How had I ended up here? Simple, but dumb. My curious youth screwed me over, constantly. Hearing all of the stories of the swamp, I had to go see it. I flew here, -though I hated flying- spotting the thick cluster of twisted and gnarled trees. I dove back to the earth happily, expecting to land on solid ground. It looked solid enough, I had thought. I landed, but instead of letting my knees bend to take in the shock of the land, I found myself collapsing into the bog. It was cold and shocking, my wings staying cast out and lapping at the muggy air.
After a little struggling, I jumped up, finding myself quivering. The mud still sucked my body down, trapping each leg in the clingy swamp. I tried to keep my cool, knowing that I would find a path out sooner or later... if something didn't find me first. No, I can't think like that. I'm fine, my conscience repeated in my head, somewhat relieving my thundering heart. I could only get a single limb out at a time, with a lot of energy, the suction making it difficult to keep moving on. Each cloven hoof slowly crawled out of the deep mud that eventually rose past my knees. This was going to be impossible to get out of.
Another breeze high in the air caused the branches to squeal and cry angrily. My ears flicked back, listening to the horrifying sound that increased my pulse. I could feel my heart throbbing in my chest, in my legs, and in my neck. Hazel eyes opened wide, the whites showing in each corner. The adrenaline shot through my body, releasing enough energy for me to pull my front legs from the bog. My body thrashed through the mud, my black wings expanding to their full length. The appendages pushed against the still air fiercely, doing absolutely nothing to help my situation, only tiring me out even more.
My mind raced, creating monsters that crawled out of the damp earth, grabbing at me with long, vicious nails. The ground beneath me suddenly became solid, making my knees crumple under me. My already panicked mind ran ramped. Sweat streamed down my neck from under my mane. Finally I could feel the mud desolving into clay and rocks, creating a slippery incline. I panted heavily, nearly running into a tree once I escaped the clutches of the bog. I had no intentions of looking back at this moment. I stumbled again, only this time on nothing. Black extensions folded to my heaving sides tightly. My legs finally gave out and I let my body sluggishly sag to the ground. My legs sprawled out to the sides, I continued panting heavily and was now drenched with a mixture of sweat and rain. My head rested on the base of a tree.
My mind still ran, though no longer creating monsters, but going over what I had actually just done to myself. This all could have been completely bypassed. I had just done this all to myself. Good job, my conscience mumbled. Though I was tired, I made myself roll into an up right position. My limbs all quivered, the mud beginning to cook onto my legs and every where else it resided. I am so vulnerable. Flying was no longer very frightening to me at the moment.
walk walk walk || "talk talk talk" || think think think
(Ooc || Shitty post es shitty and random, sorry. :()
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| Dragon's Throat Healer |
| Mare :: Pegasus :: 16.1hh :: 5 (Tallsun) Buff: NOVICE |
| Lauren |
A N D R O M E D A
daughter of the stars
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The world I see below me is cloaked in silver garb, hidden in moon-light gray fog that curls and whispers in a sinister fashion, almost as if hiding something from me, choking the earth between its fine smoky hands. It is not like me to boldly go sauntering, blind, into a place I am unsure of, and yet here I was flying, descending towards the mist-clothed world below. Soon I begin to pull back with my wings, lurching forward with my hind end, mane and tail streaming as I plunge through the dense, low-hanging cloud cover. It is by luck more than skill that I fall upon a pathway, hooves thudding softly upon the moist soil, and it is then I notice the bitter chill of the air down here on the swamp. Every breath I take sends cold knives spiking into my lungs, carving deep gashes into them, as if the humid air has frozen. Swiftly I pick up my wings, ruffling them, drawing them tight to my body, knowing the feathers will do better than the layer of fuzz that has begun to grow on my body. I suppose it is just one of the advantages of being lucky enough to have feathers. My tail swishes, driving away the flies that still come prominent in this frozen wasteland, somehow, and then I see what no doubt feeds them in these autumn months.
Bodies. Pale, bloated corpses, hidden underneath the tepid, glass water, some in malignantly good condition, as if prepared to rise from the freezing marsh and attack me with ferocity unmatched by the living. I would not go as far as to say I am a seasoned soldier, but I have a fair skill in battle, and I immediately know with a wretched twist of my gut that if the dead here were to rise, no matter how they may limp or bite or kick or stab, their sheer numbers would swiftly dispose of any wanderer, and then that victim would emerge into the waters of the unliving with them.
My skin crawls as if a thousand spiders run across my body, and I step back, taking my tedious time to make sure not a single hoof plunges into this unholy place of fiendish creatures. Even as I move forward, searching for a suitable place to take off and flee this devilish world of smoke and fog and shattered bodies, my audits are twitching and swiveling quickly, trying to discern the individual sounds. It is not long before I hear a catastrophically loud splash, and I hop upwards nervously, head jerking.
"Who's there?" I call, eyes sharp and worried.
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So beautifully they make you, kill
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My pulse eased very slowly, but I could still hear it, making it seem like the world around me was beating acoustically. The sweat began drying, curling my normally sleek coat into messy looking tangles. I let my head drop back down to the cold, solid ground as I rolled back to my side. My sides no longer heaving, I could breath steadily, but I was so tired. The world began going dark, fading out from the outside of my already blurred vision until I forced my hazel eyes closed.
My body was sinking, falling into the deeper and deeper mud. I could feel something crawling up my limbs, grabbing and scratching at my warm hide. But, why am I not doing anything? I stood calmly, watching each clawed, scaly hand emerge from the bog. The preserved corpses of less fortunate being crawled toward me from all sides. Still I stood, calm, watching everything happen. "Run!" I screamed at my body, though the me I saw.. It's jaw didn't drop as my voice box shrilled. It's eyes turned to me, pure white and glassy. My heart throbbed. It pulled it's legs from the swamp easily, my -no, it's wings dragging in the now extremely watery swamp. A scale covered hand grabbed at sensitive feathers, plucking them from it's body. It showed no reaction, it only turned it's face toward me, finally opening it's decaying jaw and asking "Who's there?"
That voice, it's too real. My head lurched up, making my body roll with it as well. I had been sweating again in my sleep, though I wasn't breathing abnormally this time. That voice was too real to be in that twisted dream. My eyes darted back and forth over the depressing landscape, spotting nothing at first. Suddenly, the blue hued female stood out in the corner of my eye from a fairly good distance. Her body looked like it was splashed with the galaxy. She was a fellow Pegasus, possibly from the Throat as well, though I had not seen her before.
My jaw dropped and a near silent nicker escaped from my chest before I drew in another deep breath. "Here," I breathed, feeling nauseous at the thought of the previous nightmare. "Help me." Ashamed. Of course I am. Nothing actually happened to me. I had landed here stupidly, thinking that I could get away with anything without consequences. That of course did not work out as I had planned.
walk walk walk || "talk talk talk" || think think think
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| Dragon's Throat Healer |
| Mare :: Pegasus :: 16.1hh :: 5 (Tallsun) Buff: NOVICE |
| Lauren |
A N D R O M E D A
daughter of the stars
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Drat, drat, double-drat it all. I'm not one for swearing. It's not that I think myself above it, too refined or too precious for crass, boorish, uncouth words; it is the fact I should be able to contain myself, to control my emotions better than sink down to such vulgarity of mouth. For the briefest of seconds I wonder of my parents, if they would care if I swore to the stars above or not; if they were the type to make me eat my words, shove it down my tender throat and scrub my teeth with foul-tasting earth. Maybe I would know if they had cared enough to bother with my upkeeping and truly raised me as I wished they had. Wait a moment- did I want them to raise me? How different would I be if two figures had tended to me, rather than the distant cosmos so close and yet so far? Would I be outgoing, bold and brash? Or would I still remain the constant wallflower, watching the world go spinning by without care for me? Even during the continuum of my rather selfish thoughts, my worries are dragged to the surface swiftly.
Too soon I am engulfed in worry, the tedious consciousness of memories whisked away by gnawing anxiety that claws at the hollow of my stomach as winter stalks ever closer. It seems eons before my swift, fainthearted utterance is answered, and closer, and my nostrils flare to drink in the air. First I smell peat, a thick musk that does not hide the flavor of decay rich in the air, no doubt from within the pale bloated bodies decomposing under the viscous puce water dabbed with not-quite-so-fair lilies.
Help me. Immediately my skin erupts into goosefleesh, of course not visible under the thick wooliness of my dark winter coat. I bite back the urge to leap upwards towards the canopy of gnarled twisted trees, with blackened rotten leaves; I condone this fierce gnawing at my guts, and saunter on forward, yet despite the total facade of being at ease, I am anything but. My wings remain half-up, readied for a lightning-quick escape through a barrage of clawing branches that would no doubt tear out more than one feather or two, for the sky is encroached by a nasty network of branches interlocking, stubborn and unyielding. Every crackle of grass under my ebon hooves send me nervously flinching, which almost makes me wan to roll my eyes but for the scene before me. Yet I come closer to the sound, ears flicking ceaselessly, bouncing upon my hooves nearly, and then;
The mare- I cannot tell her coat color, for all the thick layers of mud daubed upon her carelessly- lies upon the ground in a sorry state, and for a moment my breath stops suddenly in my chest, and I stare in almost but not quite slack-jawed astonishment and fear, before I relax. For a moment, my worried mind had conjured up the images of the white corpses climbing out of the water, this mare being one of them; I can make out the barest hint of dusty Throat beneath the cloying scent of mud, and I grimace at her soiled appearance. She is my herdmate, however, and lays so precariously upon the pathway, almost lying within the water that will happily cause hypothermia to anyone foolish enough to plunge within it, that I step forward carefully and light-footed, still prickling with worry. In fact, the feathers upon my wings stand ruffled and near-erect with the taint of fear hanging about me, how my heart pumps quicker within my chest, and I can hear the blood rushing through my body. Closer and closer I come to her drenched body, and gaze upon her wings, and hazard a quick glance upwards. No. There is no way we could make it out of here through flight- and her wings must be so leaden under the weight of the frozen clay it should not help.
"Andromeda, sergeant of the Throat," I proffer. "Quickly, stand and press your side against mine; it is too cold. The mud will keep you warm. We can't fly out- do you know the exit?" It isn't quite like me to take authority like this either- but I do anyways, stoicly, for sometimes someone to follow is nice when you feel awful and your nose runs and your wings droop and your head falls close to the ground.
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Slaiter
Searchers after horror haunt strange, far places.
-H.P. Lovecraft
It is only natural that those who venture into the slimy depths of the marsh will attract the attention of its inhabitants. Dark eyes watch the intruders, curious and wary. They smell vaguely familiar, hot and arid, like the angel beast he had met before, the one who came with the flaming demon. Are these two angels? He doesn't know. As always, the ghoul is indecisive, shifting weight from hoof to hoof as he ponders approaching, listening as they speak to one another. Neither one seems overly dangerous, and the dirty one, the one on the ground, is coated in the muck of the swamp. He knows from experience that the only way to get that muddy is to splash in the stagnant pools, to submerge yourself in the filthy mud-water, down among the dead, and he wonders why she would do such a thing. For him, it is normal behavior, for how else would he get his friends, but what did she gain from it? Did she fall, unaware of hidden danger of secret pools? He has seen others stumble into them, after all. Yes, he decides, that is what happened. It is too bad that she escaped, she would have made a beautiful corpse, and once all the flesh had rotted away, he would have fetched her bones from their silty bed and kept her, hidden away with his other friends.
Had she drowned, he would have loved her.
But she didn't, and the slate-mixed-with-cloud one has come to lead her away, take her from this macabre place and back to the sunlit outer world. Except, they don't know the way, or so he deduces from her question about the exit. He could show them, of course, he knows the marsh, knows exactly where to step to avoid the deepest bogs, and where the ground looks safe, but isn't. He could tell them, guide them. But does he want to? Thick tail slithers through the underbrush and thick gunky mire, and he thinks, thoughts turning and turning in his brain like the restless dead deep underground, sleeping fitfully in their earthen graves.
These two will not die, he finally decides, will not fall victim to the waiting water and hungry beasts. And he will help them, prancing ahead, a ghastly will-o-wisp, except he will keep them safe, not leave them stranded, until they reach the edge of his Underworld and return to wherever they belong.
And maybe, one day, they will return.
He steps forward then, a zombie emerging from the trees and shadows, but he is intact still, putridly tinted pelt giving the appearance of grave-mold, of moss creeping over a lifeless form, and the black framing his equally dark eyes seeming as empty sockets in the pale light. Not true, though he thinks it is, sometimes, when he is alone, and has only the dead for companions, creeping through the swamp like a wraith. Not true, but it could be, one day will be, and these morbid musing delight him, putting a spring in his step as he approaches. His voice is released, tolling forth like a funeral bell, like words from a long dead king, deep and dark and eerie, echoing slightly before being swallowed by the trees. "I know the way."
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[Ooc; I'm sooo soo sorry you guys, but I just can't keep up enough muse to play this mare. She's just.. not a good combination with me. :(( So, I'm going to close this thread. I love both of these characters though, so maybe we could end up rping again, with a character that I can actually play? :) Again, I'm sorry!]
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