Lace the Silverthorn Posts: 459
| Deceased atk: 5 | def: 9 | dam: 5.5 |
| Stallion :: Equine :: 15.3 hh :: 14 HP: 65 | Buff: NOVICE |
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Fajira :: Plain White Dragon :: Fire Breath
Chan |
@[Hototo]
LACE</style>
Time Flies - Time Dies
Truth like a blazing Fire</style>
"... and when she turned around, she found that there was nothing to see. No gold, no eggs... Only an empty cave filled with dust and the echo of that laughing voice that slowly disappeared in the wind..."
The dragon fell silent and looked down on her companion expectantly, clearly hoping for some kind of reaction. Lace stifled a yawn and shifted the weight between his legs, hips cocking from left to right and settled into a steep angle as he made himself comfortable again.
"It was probably a boggart" he suggested and tried not to sound as bored as he actually felt. Fajira's attempts at scary stories always blew right over his head - mainly because they tended to center around glittering objects, eggs and difficult theories about the world and its laws that he just couldn't seem to wrap his head around. What was so horrible about an illusionary voice promising gold and power only to take it away again anyway?
Sensing his lack of interest the dragon snorted sharply from her perch in the tree above and turned her back on him, clearly offended by his idiocy. The stallion rolled his eyes and blew a puff of breath towards her, the drifting cloud colored gold and purple by the iridescent lights that hung from the glowing tree he stood beneath.
"I'm sorry dear, it was a lovely story" he tried, hoping to soothe her before the mild annoyance turned into something more aggravated and long lasting. "It's my fault for not understanding it fully..." Her tail twitched, the stubborn trait of the back softening somewhat; she still didn't turn around though, and it was with well practiced patience that the white-maned stallion continued. "I can tell you a story in return, if you'd like. It won't be as interesting as yours of course, but it might pass the time..."
For a moment the white dragon grew very still on her perch. Then in one sudden twirl of motion she spun around and jumped down onto the back of the crafter, who grunted softly as the impact pressed air out of his lungs. Taloned paws kneaded the gilded skin as Fajira began to make herself more comfortable, walking in tight circles before she finally settled down and prepared to listen.
"It better be good" she purred with a half-threatening tone that was so dishonest and filled with anticipation that Lace couldn't hold back a laugh.
"Haha alright, alright. Let me see then..." Taking a deep breath, he pushed the discomfort of his empty stomach to the back of the mind and began to rummage through his memory, searching for something that might entertain both himself and his picky companion.
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♦ Permission granted to use magic and violence on Lace and Fajira
♦ Only tag in new threads, spars and if it's urgent
The Store | The Warden
| Hidden Account atk: 5 | def: 8.5 | dam: 5.5 |
| Mare :: Equine :: 16.2hh :: 9 HP: 65 | Buff: NOVICE |
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Mongrel :: Common Kitsune :: Dark Illusions
wanda |
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Foxes, wolves, and domesticated dogs are all of a same family, no? Yet they are more different than the sun and the moon; neither of which exist. Does this mean that unicorns, the pegasi, and the horses will melt into a single entity, unified in the face of darkness? No. No, it does not. No matter what they say, they are all different in the fashion of their builds and the curve of their sharp-edged fangs- even if you can no longer see due to the impenetrable night.
The mare walks in the darkness, a shadow, charcoal coat eating at the faded amber light.
A glimpse of silver shines in the darkness, a gleam of sparkling white in the washed-out, sickly glow emitted from the sparse trees. Lady Death does not mind the darkness, the way it cocoons her in it's familiar, frigid shell. Her dark, scarred coat clings tight, stretched taut over her bones, and even her winter fur, weighing down each step on her starved frame, cannot keep out the mind-numbing cold. Perhaps that is why she comes stumbling, pursuing the faded sparkle, of light on white scales; and then Skullface stops dead, nostrils flaring, chest heaving from the brief, but much too hard, effort to come closer. Energy preservation could mean the difference between life and death in the treacherous, perilous world that is now her home.
Dreams she had entertained, deranged illusions of taking the world by force. Yet now, all she felt was a gnawing hunger, eating at her fractured mind. Confutatis, the little dark monster that lingered at the edge of nightmares and haunted the bad dreams, was near-death. No grass blossomed from the earth to ease the pains cramping her stomach. Weak the hellion was, legs shakier than a newborn colt's. The efforts of walking had nearly become too much.
White becomes sharper, becoming a reptilian beast. Murmurs become voices.
Exhaustion weighs at her limbs. Leaning against the tree, the outcast heaves a deep, throaty sigh, rubbing her shoulder half-heartedly against the cracked bark. Even monsters have their bad days, and unlike some predators, she does not prey on others for meat, which is easier to come back than grass at this time. "I'm curious to learn how you see in the darkness," she rasps, eye dark and mildly interested. "Who is your guardian angel, spider webs?"
CONFUTATIS
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image credits
| Hidden Account |
| Stallion :: Tribrid :: 17.2hh :: 3 years |
| Boom Boom! |
07-18-2013, 11:59 PM
(This post was last modified: 07-18-2013, 11:59 PM by Hototo.)
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I knew the forest well. I had grown up here for many months, and I remember it well. The loam under my feet is almost reassuring, as the warm sands of the desert had been. Funny, how I found many of the different textures of the earth so inviting to me. Even in this foreboding darkness, the pale lantern trees along with my knowledge of the pathways made travel in the forest easy.
After all, deep in the words, it had been dark from the start.
The pallid illumination allows for me to move at a brisk trot forward, keeping my eyes open wide and my ears perked in attention. I long for the company of Bear during this night, for even as I know the woods, I fear for some giant ghost to jump around a trunk and scare me senseless. It would not be a ghost I found, though the mare might soon become one without my aid. As I round a bend, gleaming in the soft light given off by the mysterious trees, I can make out two figures. One seems old, feeble, wobbling on unsteady legs and perching against the bark of a large tree. The other is familiar, but I cannot be certain from where, as his features are obscured by the shadows of darkness and my current angle gives me no hint of his companion.
His voice, though, soon rings in my ears. A whisper at this distance, but the masculine sound reminds me of one I encountered when I was younger. I stop, capturing the raspy voice of the female that was barely audible. I figure that Lace is of no threat to me, as he never has made himself one, and this mare is likely so weak that a rough sneeze would make her topple over. Quietly I make my way over to them, grass slightly grown in patches where the bronze hooves step, awakened from their Frostfall slumber.
"Hello," I say, my voice deep despite my young age, sidling closer to the weak looking mare, but giving the stallion a welcoming nod. I did not want to reveal his name to this stranger, since I was unsure of their terms, but I hope that Lace recalls me. "I am Hototo, ma'am." As I pause a foot or so away from her, standing still yet not relaxed (I do not know this woman, after all), the grass which had long died in the winter months begins to flourish once more. The stalks shoot up between the moss, in small patches, out of the dusting of snow, stretching out in a small radius around me, reaching toward the stranger's hooves. The canopy held most of the frost at bay, but not the chill. I smile pleasantly as I can manage at her, for I am still uncomfortable around the gentler sex.
"You look famished," I say, quite honestly, glancing up at her sympathetically through pale lashes. "The grass will be sweet as spring in a few moments."
[ sorry for the wait. ^^; @[Lace] ]
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Lace the Silverthorn Posts: 459
| Deceased atk: 5 | def: 9 | dam: 5.5 |
| Stallion :: Equine :: 15.3 hh :: 14 HP: 65 | Buff: NOVICE |
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Fajira :: Plain White Dragon :: Fire Breath
Chan |
LACE</style>
Time Flies - Time Dies
Truth like a blazing Fire</style>
Quiet footfalls in the dark broke his concentration. The dragon turned her head with a quiet hiss of irritation, pearly teeth gleaming faintly as they bare towards the shadow that slowly separate from the surrounding night. A faint, unexplained sense of unease grasped Lace as he turned to look at the dark mare, metal orbs quickly taking in the emaciated state of her body. It was as though a scent of decay followed with her, a premonition of death and despair, of hunger so deep that it awoke his own where he stood. He shifted, ears straying backwards as he hesitantly listened to her raspy voice, unsure of what to make of her breathless query. Had her eyes become so accustomed to the night that even the light-trees couldn't brighten her spirit?
"I... Her name is Fajira.." he said uneasily, suppressing an urge to inch away from the mangy apparition. His relief was immense when a second set of hooves broke the silence of the Ever Night, heavier this time, and along with the dragon the grullo turned to regard the newcomer curiously.
The little White recognized the colt before Lace did. With a cheerful warble she suddenly slipped off his back and took to the sky, her slight body swinging towards him in enthusiastic greeting. Helped along by her memories, Lace stepped out from under the glowing tree and stared in disbelief at the cold as he introduced himself with a deep, masculine voice that so recently would have seemed misplaced on the lanky, gnarled foal he once had met.
"Hototo, you sure have grown" Lace greeted with warmth in the voice and walked over to the young stallion with graceful movements, surprised and pleased to find the little adventurer in good health. "How have you been, it's good to see you again!" Not until after he had reached a muzzle out to nudge the other's in a welcoming gesture did he notice the little miracle that was going on on the ground, not until a scent that set his stomach riling in nauseating hunger.
Surprised and slightly uneasy the gold-backed horse sidestepped, trying to avoid trampling the fragile shoots of grass that appeared beneath his hooves at a rate so rapid that he could see them grow with his bare eyes. Shock at the obvious sign of magic numbed his mind for a moment, but as the first surprise began to settle, a pair of sharp golden eyes came to rest on the young hybrid, quietly studying the youth with more intensity. White mane danced under the light of the glowing tree as his silvery neck arched; of course. There were only so many horses these days that retained their abilities, and only recently had he discovered why.
"You are your fathers son, I see" he said discreetly with a faint tug at the corner of the mouth, a quiet smile in recognition of the youngsters heritage. It was tempting to take advantage of that, to lower the head and just indulge in the arcane gift Hototo had been blessed with... But Lace held himself back, hesitating to ingest anything that had sprung with the help of magic.
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CREDITS: Schwartze | venomxbaby | 116802
♦ Permission granted to use magic and violence on Lace and Fajira
♦ Only tag in new threads, spars and if it's urgent
The Store | The Warden
| World's Edge Nurse atk: 6.5 | def: 9 | dam: 4 |
| Mare :: Equine :: 16.1 :: 5 HP: 65 | Buff: NOVICE |
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Natraj :: Plain Kitsune :: Fire
Charks |
07-26-2013, 03:13 AM
(This post was last modified: 07-26-2013, 03:16 AM by Tandavi.)
TANDAVI & NATRAJ</style>
we walked a lonely road
beneath the fire of a thousand suns</style>
We are denizens of the darkness, brightness in the light. We have come to find the answers that evade even the greatest of scholars, and our march has been long and laborious. I know that there has been a change, as surely as Natraj does; I can sense it in the air. Time tastes of magic and the world's ending. Amaris told me of the God's departure; in her patient way she explained that they have gone to save us, yet I do not understand. All I know is the way the wind tastes, the scent of the barren earth, the wonder of the new moon, and Natraj.
I walk by his side, and he is invisible to all but me, a shadow stealing through the night, a silent voice on silent paws. His is the slender form of a graceful dancer, bending impeccable in the tumultuous world. He leads me through the weeping trees, reckless abandon guiding a burning soul to some unknown destination, some great future and a fickle past. A trail of footprints is left in our wake, the burns of out fire furrowed into the earth; we are shadow and flame, unhindered and uninhibited; nothing shall stop the descent of our names into annals of history. Mother says that the only way to mark the world is to learn it, and so we have ventured forth to learn what we can, that we might return to our maker and tell her our findings.
It is difficult to see everything, but I do my best. Despite the changes that have crashed our youth, the world is rich with aroma, sound, color, taste, and we stretch ourselves out to encompass them all, knowing we must experience the wealth that our birth has promised. The crunch of leaves in half-moon steps, the descent of a moth onto Natraj's nose, all these things are marked and stored into the annals of my mind. The experiences fill the empty pages that make the novel of my life. They will one day become my story, the foundation of my being and the tribute I offer in return for this gift of breath. This is why I hold them close, lock them away from all but Natraj; they are precious jewels that cannot be shared with just anyone, lest their worth be wasted away.
The forest darkens, moonlight and stars cast out by a blanket of faintly glimmering leaves. It is not a path we follow but a feeling, a gentle tug at something within our souls, something we both feel and need to uncover. Natraj walks ahead, large ears open for the breath of life, chill snow meaning nothing to the flesh of a shade. A rabbit bounds past, near the size of he; nimbly does he leap away, giving path to our furry friend. Every turn holds another path, another minefield of secrets waiting to be recalled, but my brother knows the way we must walk and I am content to follow in his wake. He knows our path better than I, knows the trail of invisible fire which we must take.
The taste of the world shifts, and we pause. Searching the wind, I close my eyes and extend my tongue, nostrils flaring in hot pursuit. Youth, life, promise, green, the flavor of the air is tinted with what I now know to be scales, and something broken in a sickly pallor. Follow? asks Natraj through his golden eyes, and does not wait for my answer; he knows it as surely as I do. In flawless tandem and fluid step we are moving again, orange and black and gold in one continuous blur. We are a streak of color on the pavement of the forest, a new memory etched into these ancient trees. What other brushes have left their mark- this is what we have come to learn.
Horses. Three. Bigger than us, and a voice strong amongst them. I know the voice, and it bears a name which sits just beneath the surface of my memories. My brother is slinking ahead of me now, invisible black in a visible world. Once around a tree and then he is lost, and for a moment I stand alone in the night and do not know where to turn. The moment passes; he summons me forward and I quietly comply, blazoned face leading a slight body in the uneasy dance. Two are strangers, the first two, and I hesitate at the edge of the gathering only so I might soak them in. A mare looks weak. Bunched skin runs down her face, a reflection of the mark Mother bears upon her chest. Damage. Pain. A memoir of history, another secret of the past. She is dark with a white face, she is strong like Flame and Shadow, she is something that sets my teeth on edge.
She is only the first. A colt looks strong. He is the source of the smell of youth, for somehow life blooms around his feet in a world which has been devoured by death. Wings, horns, not like Amaris and not like Mirage, he reminds me of another boy, a silver apparition in the night. They feel the same, too powerful and too wise, though this one brings life and that one sought death. His mane and tail are white, like mine. He is kind, I think. He is good.
Third. A name at last, a faint memory of Mother's friend. Lace; I am proud to have recalled it, for names do not come easily to me. I prefer to take in the things that make a creature, things permanent and defining like the web upon his brow or the dip of his shoulders, the weariness that subtly follows in his walk. The taste of magic is in him, too, a familiar thing if faint now, something darkly rejuvenating, black water in a cloudless night. Lace. I remember.
I think he is handsome, though I do not yet know what that means.
I do not speak. I never do. It is for Natraj to say hello and I to watch and wait. My shadow brother flows easily into their midst, tails high, ears alert; he heads for the colt with the big black wings and loses his feet in new grass, sniffing curiously at the unnatural life. I do not yet understand magic, only that it exists; the concept of this abnormality is beyond my sphere of awareness. I tilt my head and let my gaze wander, still seeking out the little details that make each of them who they are. Perhaps Lace will notice me, I think, and remember me as I remember him. Regardless I will have much to tell Mother when I return home. I can only hope she takes pride in my new knowledge of the Forest of Night.
ooc || so, this became a novel... apologies x3 It's late and my brain decided to keep making words that stopped making sense
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credit | credit
o. pixel pony credit to tamme
o. permission granted to use force and magic on Tavi
o. only tag me in opening posts, please!
| Hidden Account atk: 5 | def: 8.5 | dam: 5.5 |
| Mare :: Equine :: 16.2hh :: 9 HP: 65 | Buff: NOVICE |
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Mongrel :: Common Kitsune :: Dark Illusions
wanda |
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She is made of cold darkness, frigid shadow and ebony flame; harken her poisoned words, heed for vile advice, for she is little more than a rabid dog waiting to spring on the uneasy prey. Indeed, there is even foam that drips from her mouth- normally, that is, and nothing about the darkness is normal anymore- an acid that will slough skin from bones and burn anything it touches.
Burn, child, burn.
With every tilt of her head and glint of her eye, she exposes her unnatural interior, the bizarreness of her. Barren of the emotions that kindle warm fires in warm hearts, she is little more than a gruesome statue. What drives her machinery is not the battery of something to live for, but hunger and passion and feral strategy; ambition and aggression and the need to conquer. Her heart is fashioned from metal and her mind's piping, tubing, and general together-ness is half-melted from the fire of love- love only for decay and blackness and shadows, death and gore and blood, war and battles and fights. What is Confutatis but a villain of inexplicable proportions, a warmonger and scavenger?
The silver stallions stutters and pauses, and a cruel smile grows on her skinny face. Even as her charcoal lips part of deliver a verbal assault, they are interrupted. "Lucky cobwebs," she murmurs, eyes dancing with a hellish light.
When the grass grows beneath her feet, her stone-ebon face shatters for the briefest of moment. Hunger; but not of the kind in her empty belly. It is greed, covetous; a yearning for more, a hot desire. Lips curl, exposing yellowed teeth. Hototo, she muses, and she keeps the name carefully, cradling it to her memory. It is not a name she will forget; and chances are, Confutatis is not a horse you want to be remembered by. Still, quick as the wicked expression came, it is gone, returning to the serene facade, even if her eyes still sparkle with Satan's light, even if her very aura murmurs of slaughter. Her sooty lips hide her teeth once more, and she lowers her head, cropping the grass.
Indeed the grass tastes of spring.
Yet her eyes are not at rest; they settle on his curling rams' horns and ease over his wings, over the heavy muscle speaking of a great build yet the surprising elegance in his step. He is painted in the earth's palette, and his voice could sing whatever he wishes; and she wonders if the hybrid is more important than he looks. The horse and his dragon are forgotten, unimportant in this turn of events.
A fox, a kitsune leaps into the midst of the little group. She shakes her head, pacing back a few steps, and tips her skull testily. There is a girl, a young woman. For a moment, she assesses the new, possible threat. Then her scarred body relaxes. No harm in a child.
"Should I offer my names to strangers?" Lady Death purrs, eyes dark. "I think not. Still, cobwebs and grass, and little mare, call me what you will."
CONFUTATIS
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image credits
| Hidden Account |
| Stallion :: Tribrid :: 17.2hh :: 3 years |
| Boom Boom! |
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Lace remembers me.
I smile brightly, pleased that I am liked enough to be stored within his memories, for I am sure he has far more than I do tucked away. I give him a bright look, noticing how he stumbles back after a light brush on my shoulder, likely startled by the grass. I found it interesting the many different reactions it received. By many, it was a blessing, but I remember have the scary dark lady blessed with lightning had been unwilling to eat it. I wonder what the suspicion is in magic? I am only reviving the health the sprouts have lost in the cold of winter.
They smile happily at me, and I smile back. The earth and the earth's child.
"I have been busy," I say earnestly, my face open as it turns toward Lace's webbed face. "Father left me with a very important quest." I must not let him down, I think to myself, even as I look up with bicolored eyes in the unnatural light of the lantern trees toward Lace. He seems bewildered, but slowly understanding creeps on his face. I had never told him who my sire was, but apparently everyone in Helovia is faster than I in this discovery. I wonder, though, what it is about me that speaks of the Earth. Maybe it is that we both wear ram horns and wings. I do not know.
I completely miss the villainous grin that paints over the dark lady's features, glancing back in her direction only as I hear the soft chomp of teeth on grass. I smile again, happy to have helped a starving traveler once more. How could I know that this was the sort I should not have approached? Who am I to judge? Should I play God and decide which of my father's creatures deserve life over death? I think not, even if I had known better. She may be haunting underneath the skull painted on her face, but I would have no way of knowing.
For all of my intelligence, I am a blithering idiot at times.
What spooks me is not the lady garbed in black, but the sudden appearance of a strange creature at my hooves. I shy away, my weight transcending to my haunches and my front end spills in the direction of Lace uneasily. I snort loudly in surprise, my eyes looking downward in the dim light to pick out fuzzy features. I laugh at myself, for I am without the pride of a fool, despite being one. I laugh at my own fear, for it is nothing more than a fox.... with a strange number of tails? Oh well. A fox is a fox, in my eyes. A hearty chortle is cut short as I hear the approach of another, soft footfalls on the loam and dusting of snow.
The scent catches my nares before I actually see it - a filly. My eyes widen owlishly for a moment as she approaches, seeing how she would react. A pale mane rolling over an expression that matches that of an old lady; I am reminded starkly of myself, always thinking rather than doing - the opposite of a child. She is calm, and it helps sooth my nerves despite the fact my heart wants to jump out of my throat at the sight of a filly. They make me nervous, while I do not understand why, I do not appreciate it.
I cannot blame this girl, though, for she seems kindly. I let out a meek smile, attempting to feign friendliness when I feel like fleeing from her sight. "Welcome," I say, my voice held intentionally straight, despite the turn my stomach takes. Why am I freaking out? It's only a girl.
The ghostly mare speaks again, her voice strangely coquettish yet dangerous, as though she had some malevolent qualities hidden behind her words. The mystery was one I do not understand, but there had to be a reason I did not easily give Lace's name to her. I wonder, what is the importance of names? Should I not offer mine so easily? She did not use 'Hototo', anyway, though I am certain she heard, first from my lips and then from Lace's. Perhaps, she is demented of the mind. Pitiable, but still deserving of kindness.
I do not know. She is an enigma. Something I have never encountered in my travels.
I wish mother were here. She would know.
"I have never had to name anything before, ma'am," honest, ever like a child. "So I am afraid I do not know what to call you." I smile, feeling uneasy but trying to bury it under optimism. I doubt she would give me a name even now, for she seems uncertain.
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