lay me gently in the cold dark earth The beat of heavy wings signals the approach of Brennen or Hurricane, and when they are twice as loud he knows that both immortal pegasi have arrived. Errant is not surprised when Brennen stays silent; the bay stallion mastered that elite skill of knowing when to speak and when to stay silent. Hurricane’s words, though, fit what Errant knows of the grey stallion, and the black horse looks to Mountain to see his reaction. Hurricane is not his number one favorite, that is true, but had Errant known that the grey horse doubts his brotherly affection entirely, he’d have taken the time to reassure him that he does to consider lack of trust in a stranger a character flaw, and reassure them that as a member of the Tundra hurricane is by default among Errant’s favorite. Mountain does not back down. Errant is not surprised, but he is sure now that the man is no warrior – even the boldest know when they are outnumbered and surrender. He tells them that he is here by divine intervention (aren’t they all?) and was placed here. Removing him will be difficult, yes but “We are up for the challenge.” He offers to spare their lives – as though he has any authority to take them – and Errant can feel Kratos bristling beside him. This time Errant does not object to the lightening, and only watches. Errant frowns, and a trio of tundra wolves crests the nearest hill. They are hesitant creatures, both wary and fully aware of the futility of attacking the horses that dwell in the Tundra. Errant has reassured them that there is an easy meal for the taking, and their yellow eyes glisten hungrily as the creep closer. The two smaller wolves (both still nearly five feet long) skirt around the gathered assembly but the largest approaches Errant and sniffs curiously at his knee before turning to face Mountain. “Leave, Mountain. Or your new divine purpose will be to serve as their meal.” He means to give the former king one final chance to leave, but has placed too much trust in the alpha wolf and her ability to control her packmates. The One of the smaller wolves is young and eager (a lupine Kratos, it would seem), and has launched himself at Mountain’s left flank. His brother follows suit, his target the left gaskin. With her children going in, the biggest wolf leaps forward, her white teeth ready to close around the tender flesh of Mountain’s nose. She drowned a dozen musk-oxen in their own blood while her children ripped their legs to shreds; they can take a lone stallion, especially one wounded by a lightning strike. Errant takes several steps back, instinctively wary of the wolves despite the fact that he has been the one to summon them. Mountain will leave or die, and if the wolves pursue him past the border? Well, Errant has never communicated with wolves before, and cannot be held accountable for his lack of understanding. i'll crawl home to her |
Assailant -- Year 226
"But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura
badblood. [any/all]
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05-08-2015, 07:41 AM
05-14-2015, 03:06 PM
(I don't have internet until Monday so this is from Mom's computer at home - hence no HTML!)
I feel the jolt of electricity hit my body, and before I know it I am down on the ground. Blackness and whiteness fight for purchase in my vision, a sure attempt to blind me once and for all. For a moment I am worried I will pass out, that these idiots will fade from my vision, but I am lucky enough when it passes to see them. The jolt of electricity is still surging through my body, though, and it takes quite some time to stand. When I stand at last, I am wobbly and unsure and unsteadied. The look in my eyes, though, tells it all. "Very well," I say between teeth that refuse to unclench. "You have signed your death certificate." And then, the wolves, close and nipping. The electricity has done something to my muscles so I am unable to move away, I can only stand, I can only stare with those dark eyes. "You will all die then," I say, feeling my jaw loosen, feeling the ability to talk coming back to me. "Each and every one of you. I am the King here, I am your god, and you will all die at my hand!" And then - "IHATEYOUIHATEYOUIHATEYOUIHATEYOU"
05-16-2015, 09:43 AM
05-18-2015, 08:29 PM
M O U N T A I N Anything I say you lie along with me Every song you sing is all because of me Anytime I cry you always laugh at me. No matter what you do you belong to me
05-18-2015, 11:02 PM
(This post was last modified: 05-18-2015, 11:08 PM by Brennen.
Edit Reason: because I can
)
the walls kept tumbling down in the city that we love
great clouds rolling over the hills and if you close your eyes, does it almost feel like nothing's changed at all? Though his ears flick back and forth during the conversation, tracking the solemn words of his Brothers and the nearly incoherent ramblings of their mad former king. But his eyes don’t move – he keeps his gaze steady on Mountain, Errant and Kratos and Hurricane only visible from the edges of his vision. He knows where they are, of course, and keeps aware of any movements they make, but Mountain is the enemy. Errant is dismissive of the ramblings, as any sane man would be, turning away from Mountain and towards where Hurricane and Brennen flank him and Kratos, one dark and one light winged figure like something from some sort of fairytale. There is a slight tremor in Brennen’s body the first time the mad king makes ready to lunge – he catches the signs of movement in his opponent’s body, readies his own to move, but before he has a chance to take a step forward, something (Errant, his subconscious supplies) has thrown Mountain backwards, through the opening in the ice wall, beyond their borders. A fury seethes behind his amber eyes now – he had pitied the man before, to an extent, but the dishonor of even thinking to attack when Errant’s back was turned has washed that away. For a moment all is quiet, the mad king thrown just beyond their sight. There’s a slight downhill there, outside the borders, and the warrior exhales, starting to relax. He starts to form just the hint of a smile for Errant, a lopsided sort of thing that can't quite be called humorous, but as he turns his head to their King movement catches his eye. Alas, it seems that Mountain takes a moment to recover, stumbling and falling over his own feet, but making slow progress back towards them. Brennen quietly unfolds his wings, taking them from tightly folded along his sides to half-lifted, out of the way of his own ability to move. He is not a killer, not usually, but there comes a point at which death serves to protect the living, or as a mercy to them. Besides that, Brennen is if nothing else a man of complex loyalties, and beyond his loyalty to Errant as their newly-chosen King, he has a deeper loyalty of long acquaintance and even almost friendship. They have been Brothers for longer than some of their companions have been alive. Had Mountain lunged at Kratos, Brennen might have stood back and let the younger boy take care of it, whether his preferred method be the physical violence of pounding hooves or charring the man to his demise. But the movement of the madman, while somewhat lacking in power and coordination at this point, is clearly towards the black King who has turned to walk between Brennen and Hurricane. He doesn’t make a vocal sound, though surely his hooves make a sound clattering against ice and rock as the once-general responds lunge for lunge, bared teeth snaking towards Mountain’s head even as he angles the majority of his mass towards the towards the madman’s shoulder, hooves striking out and his own shoulder behind that ready to throw the once-king to the ground if he hits at the right angle. Aware as he always is of his brothers, the bay has moved to push Mountain away from Errant…but also conveniently towards both Kratos and Hurricane. And still, he says nothing. brennen immortal, winged, bone-bending, ice-manipulating, wind-manipulating Tundra warrior
05-21-2015, 12:58 PM
After his first quip, he stays silent, steely eyes flicking between the madman and their new king. Errant had the conversation well in hand. Not that it is much of a conversation, with Mountain being blathering idiot and all. He cannot help the slight amusement the quirks his lips throughout the exchange. That Mountain is so clearly outmatched, yet still insists that he will banish, kill, what-have-you, every last one of them is entirely laughable. Positively absurd. And highlights so clearly the depths of lunacy that this man has sunk. He is not fool enough the let his guard down however. The stallion is mad enough to try any number of foolish things. Foolish things like attacking their new king as her turns back into the kingdom, just after tossing Mountain a short distance from the border. The foolish stallion attempts to come after him, even in his stumbling, injured state. And while he cannot say that he is surprised, the situation is becoming more absurd by the minute. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Brennen lunge forward, driving Mountain away from Errant’s exposed back, directly towards Kratos and himself. He tucks his pale wings tightly into his sides, out of harm’s way. His ears flatten as he snaps menacingly at the mad stallion. Not that his teeth would do anywhere near the damage the wolves had. He doesn’t charge immediately. Rather, he waits, biding his time. His dark eyes follow each movement the stallion makes until legs fall into a more precarious position, his balance already likely to be off kilter, his (no doubt enraged) attention focused on Brennen, before striking. His full weight is pushed into the attack, his shoulder dropping as he drives into the stallion’s front end from the side in an attempt to throw him off balance and knock the most weight bearing portion of his body from beneath him. And, hopefully, fell him. He would let the wolves take him from there. Or Kratos. Whichever got to him first. There is never a day that goes by that is a good day to die. Hurricane
05-26-2015, 12:40 PM
Kortnee - if you don’t want there to be a Mountain statue, feel free to have him break out or whatevvs. I just thought having a little monument of him might be fun xD | ||
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