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+----- Thread: When the days grow cold-[OFFSPRING;any] (/showthread.php?tid=7587)
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RE: When the days grow cold-[OFFSPRING;any] - Offspring - 03-31-2016
when you fall I'll be the only one who looks away;
when you call I'll be the first to tell you I can't stay.
when you call I'll be the first to tell you I can't stay.
Silence has befallen his dappled companion who still lingers, albeit sheepish, at his side. He finds himself grateful for this, as the tension has since grown, thickly rising into the otherwise thin mountain air, shrouding them in a cloud of borderline aggression. His own heart pounds steadily within his chest, but his mind is moving rampantly. He has seen much in his time - alliances have been built and have fallen, war has left the land devastated, burnt, soiled and stained - and it has all happened yet again. Undoubtedly, it would happen again, perhaps in another lifetime - a lifetime he would surely survive to see - for history was always doomed to repeat itself.
His dark eyes steady themselves between the two, observing Killdare as he becomes clearly agitated. Much can be assessed by one's temper and their ability to handle frustration, and though he has bristled at Brynmor's words, his words remain calm and without bite. He shifts within place, the muscles beneath his taut, war-torn flesh shifting with it as he adjusts his massive weight upon his legs. The sting of the cold does not bother him, but the sudden stillness of the wind does and he finds their minuscule gaps in conversation to be exacerbated by the silence of ice and chill.
He now studies Nymphetamine as he speaks, finally drawing himself out of his shell (defending his King's ruling methods and doing so with conviction) and putting himself forward. He knows little about the other, but he can tell by the intensity and pressing urgency of his words that he is not simply stroking the ego of the one next to him - but he needs no one's words to come to a conclusion himself. He can tell much by his body language and words, and there is sincerity laced between his otherwise terse words.
Having grown still for too long, though, he can feel the ice beginning to encase him as he stands, staring at the other - a thin sheen of frost has begun to envelope him. He is no longer simply an obsidian mass, as ice crystals form in a thick blanket across his skin. His tresses become braided with shards of ice that swiftly stem from the edges of his locks and the thick fur that surrounds his hooves at the base of his powerful legs. He, too, has his moments of surrender to his newfound power - the longer he lingers within his own mind, the sooner he begins to blend into his surroundings. An ice King amongst his throne of snow and permafrost, standing before a King of molten basaltic magma.
The two could not be more different, and yet, an alliance would be birthed from these differences.
With a firm, steady nod, his crimson eyes meet with his brightly burning ones, boring into him. "I have no preconceived notions of your lands, Killdare - I have lived long enough to know that with every shift in hierarchy, there will be change. I, too, seek strength for my men and hefty allies that we can rely on - that can rely on us. I am not concerned with the past. It will remain there." He breathes slowly, exhaling a cloud of frost that drifts with the grace of a small snow flurry to the permafrost below.
"We do seek formidable allies with which we can grow and foster something larger than ourselves. While our numbers are still few and are still young, I will agree to a tentative alliance between our Kingdoms - and once we have spoken with the Valley and Gates ourselves, which Brynmor and I will see to personally, we can gauge their intentions and motives and move forward with an alliance between the four. Is this agreeable?"
His dark eyes steady themselves between the two, observing Killdare as he becomes clearly agitated. Much can be assessed by one's temper and their ability to handle frustration, and though he has bristled at Brynmor's words, his words remain calm and without bite. He shifts within place, the muscles beneath his taut, war-torn flesh shifting with it as he adjusts his massive weight upon his legs. The sting of the cold does not bother him, but the sudden stillness of the wind does and he finds their minuscule gaps in conversation to be exacerbated by the silence of ice and chill.
He now studies Nymphetamine as he speaks, finally drawing himself out of his shell (defending his King's ruling methods and doing so with conviction) and putting himself forward. He knows little about the other, but he can tell by the intensity and pressing urgency of his words that he is not simply stroking the ego of the one next to him - but he needs no one's words to come to a conclusion himself. He can tell much by his body language and words, and there is sincerity laced between his otherwise terse words.
Having grown still for too long, though, he can feel the ice beginning to encase him as he stands, staring at the other - a thin sheen of frost has begun to envelope him. He is no longer simply an obsidian mass, as ice crystals form in a thick blanket across his skin. His tresses become braided with shards of ice that swiftly stem from the edges of his locks and the thick fur that surrounds his hooves at the base of his powerful legs. He, too, has his moments of surrender to his newfound power - the longer he lingers within his own mind, the sooner he begins to blend into his surroundings. An ice King amongst his throne of snow and permafrost, standing before a King of molten basaltic magma.
The two could not be more different, and yet, an alliance would be birthed from these differences.
With a firm, steady nod, his crimson eyes meet with his brightly burning ones, boring into him. "I have no preconceived notions of your lands, Killdare - I have lived long enough to know that with every shift in hierarchy, there will be change. I, too, seek strength for my men and hefty allies that we can rely on - that can rely on us. I am not concerned with the past. It will remain there." He breathes slowly, exhaling a cloud of frost that drifts with the grace of a small snow flurry to the permafrost below.
"We do seek formidable allies with which we can grow and foster something larger than ourselves. While our numbers are still few and are still young, I will agree to a tentative alliance between our Kingdoms - and once we have spoken with the Valley and Gates ourselves, which Brynmor and I will see to personally, we can gauge their intentions and motives and move forward with an alliance between the four. Is this agreeable?"
the ice king of the tundra
OFFSPRING
RE: When the days grow cold-[OFFSPRING;any] - Killdare - 04-02-2016
± when you feel my heat, look into my eyes ±
Once upon a time Killdare would have lost his head at the words that caused his hackles to raise. If anyone was the most surprised that he had swallowed his bile so quickly, it was he himself. Another passing of words and his brow raises to look at Nymphetamine at his side, so eager to vouch for him but it only increases his firm belief in keeping the necromancer around. It’s all true though, most would have cast the bay away, marked him a traitor and knighted him with a banishment. Killdare thought and saw otherwise, though the man made himself a spy, had they not asked it of him in some way? Did he not freely slaughter the Gates man when the moment counted, when their own young were at stake? He had, he had done those things and thus had kept his place within the realm of soot and ash.
The King only snorted in affirmation at the blood’s words but he did not seek to place his pedestal higher by some recollection of good works. His actions could speak for themselves and already they were on the road to change, barreling forward like a steam locomotive without brakes. He would not halt his mission for the alliance he sought, there was no turning back now.
He holds his curiosity in as the other King coats himself in frost, which is so – appropriate. Ice for the ice kingdom and King, their gifts so different but who wants to hang around only a reflection of themselves all the time? Not Killdare. The magma King actually enjoyed the array of talents and differences the Chamber held, in both magic and demeanor of his peoples, his boys. (ahem, and girls he supposes because they too continue to grow on him)
“I am thankful for your consideration and open mind to all this Offspring. We want change, I want change and I should have it if we can all manage to keep the peace amongst ourselves. I welcome the days to pass and the meetings you will share with our current allies, and hope that you can find some common ground with those we do not easily befriend. I accept the terms of alliance as you see fit, no doubt you know where to find us.” He nods to them both, returning to his state of molten material once more.
“You’ll find a gift in one of your caves for your women and children, I hope the intrusion is a welcome one, I mean them no harm by it.” With that he turns to leave, nodding to Nymph to do the same. If curiosity struck them, the Tundra people would find a pool of bubbling lava resting within the depths of a nearby ice cave.
The King only snorted in affirmation at the blood’s words but he did not seek to place his pedestal higher by some recollection of good works. His actions could speak for themselves and already they were on the road to change, barreling forward like a steam locomotive without brakes. He would not halt his mission for the alliance he sought, there was no turning back now.
He holds his curiosity in as the other King coats himself in frost, which is so – appropriate. Ice for the ice kingdom and King, their gifts so different but who wants to hang around only a reflection of themselves all the time? Not Killdare. The magma King actually enjoyed the array of talents and differences the Chamber held, in both magic and demeanor of his peoples, his boys. (ahem, and girls he supposes because they too continue to grow on him)
“I am thankful for your consideration and open mind to all this Offspring. We want change, I want change and I should have it if we can all manage to keep the peace amongst ourselves. I welcome the days to pass and the meetings you will share with our current allies, and hope that you can find some common ground with those we do not easily befriend. I accept the terms of alliance as you see fit, no doubt you know where to find us.” He nods to them both, returning to his state of molten material once more.
“You’ll find a gift in one of your caves for your women and children, I hope the intrusion is a welcome one, I mean them no harm by it.” With that he turns to leave, nodding to Nymph to do the same. If curiosity struck them, the Tundra people would find a pool of bubbling lava resting within the depths of a nearby ice cave.
KILLDARE
magma King of the Chamber
meh short n sweet- wanted to wrap it up and give Isle her sauna xD
RE: When the days grow cold-[OFFSPRING;any] - Brynmor - 04-02-2016
Brynmor
"With my speechless calm eyes."
The tension never really flows away from his body, but at least the tension between the two parties seemed to get a bit less. Sure, the magma king still seemed a bit irritated and had clearly been offended by his words – although he hadn’t really meant bad – yet he didn’t let that stand between him and his goal. And that goal seemed to be an alliance, or at treaty, how you wanted to call it. Brynmor can’t find himself to like the Chamber’s king, but they clearly had started off on the wrong foot. And right now that wasn’t really what seemed to matter. So he keeps himself silent at Offspring’s side, just listening and observing, not mingling anymore.
Nymphetamine has his attention when he speaks, his blue eyes not moving away from the blood bay’s form as long as it lasts. At least he does have that much manners. And it isn’t like he isn’t interested, just a little worked up because of something he hadn’t been able to let go of. He hated to admit it, but he could only trust Nymphethamine on his words, as they seemed genuine and spoken out of free will – and not because he was obligated to defend his king. Brynmor nods once he finishes speaking, simply letting know he had understood what was said and would carry it with him. Maybe, maybe one day he would be able to get over the past, but for now he would just have to put his feelings aside and try to be a good diplomat.
He listens to the two kings, still not really liking it, but nonetheless accepting. This isn’t Gryffen. And he claims to not rule like Straia, and was willing to leave the past behind them. Offspring too, he claimed to be willing to form an alliance between the Tundra and the Chamber, even naming the Gates and the Valley too. A strange mingle of alliances, but maybe not that strange if you knew that they were all fresh – new – rules. Or at least, took over the reigns at around the same time. His eyes move from Offspring to Killdare, depending on who was speaking at that same time. And when the magma king leaves he dips his head slightly, as in a wordless goodday and as a sign of politeness.
He is silent for a while, watching their retreating forms, before he turns slightly towards the black king. ”Maybe I should go pay them a visit” he speaks softly after sighing first. He doesn’t like it, not one bit, as he has mostly bad memories about the Chamber. Yet at the same time it might give him closure. Maybe he would run into Gryffen or Shaytan too, so he could make clear his strings were no longer played by a puppeteer.
"Nothing is coming to rise."
RE: When the days grow cold-[OFFSPRING;any] - vaughan - 04-02-2016
see to the real you
If it was one thing he inherited from his mother is was her ability to always be sticking his nose where it didn't necessarily belong. It has been anything short of a blur since the war, he's seen dragons, cats of prey, bears, tigers, wolves, you name it - all in one place but he was more interested in the man who ruffled his mother's feathers. The floppy eared colt shivers as he enters the Tundra, why on earth would they want to come here? A more fitting question would be why is he following them?
A boy needs a father figure.
Vaughan was barely a boy anymore as he was quickly approaching two and growing larger (and cockier) each day, he needed to be disciplined and taught. He listens from a distance as the two Kings banter about allies and changes being made. He grows bored easily as it is and this talk isn't helping. The black male approaches the group with his one ear standing as he greets the only one he knows the name of, "Nymph. You ruffled my mother's feathers so I find you entertaining - I hope you don't mind I've come along for this...meeting," he then looks to Killdare knowing that word is he's the new King. "Excuse me for seeming ignorant but if we're allying - what exactly are they offering us? Also, have any of you seen a blood bay filly hanging about? She's my sister and she's gone missing from me." He is a strange young man, more concerned with the sense of family and protection that finding his own path. Perhaps he had stumbled on it without even knowing so, only time would tell. "Oh, yeah and to the abominable snowman - I'm Vaughan, from the Chamber.
Vaughan
RIP my muse and this post.
nyquil is a muse killer. what are words. what is anything.
pneumonia is terrible.
RE: When the days grow cold-[OFFSPRING;any] - Nymphetamine - 04-03-2016
SIX FEET DEEP IS THE INCISION, SUNSETTER
Nymphetamine
RE: When the days grow cold-[OFFSPRING;any] - Offspring - 04-03-2016
when you fall I'll be the only one who looks away;
when you call I'll be the first to tell you I can't stay.
when you call I'll be the first to tell you I can't stay.
His stoicism returns to his usually stern features, though his crimson gaze is still alight with genuine curiosity. It was a strange turn of events, to be certain, but a welcome one. Having lived a century's time, he had been forced to adjust to change on a nearly constant basis and it has become as much a part of him as breathing had. He easily adapted to unorthodox situations, and time had taught him how to judge the basis of one's character from only a small exchange of words. Though terse at one point, it left him with a sense of comfort - his men, their women and their children would soon be guarded with allies, and he would provide similar comfort in return if ever called upon.
He was a man that was always as true to his word as physically possible - and though perfection was far from what he was, he would do everything within his reach to make a promise or oath his own personal truth. With a slow, deliberate nod, he acknowledges the King of molten rock's words, observing his furrowed brow and listening to his firm, albeit gracious tone. "I appreciate that we are able to come to an agreement, Killdare. A pleasure, Nymphetamine. Carry on safely on your journey." He speaks softly to their turning backs, observing their forms as they begin to take leave.
He ponders for a long moment on Killdare's final statement, curious yet also concerned - how had he breached their walls without being seen, or heard? Had he crept into a cave under guise of invisibility? Perhaps he had a form of magic that allowed him transparency through the kingdom without actually having stepped hoof into it. He decides not to pursue it for now. He would venture out and find this gift, and decide whether or not his wariness is warranted - and he would ask questions (and unbeknownst to him now, thank him) later.
His gaze lazily turns to the dappled male beside him, his gaze boring into his as he spoke quietly to him. He deliberates for a long moment, and then, "I agree. I think you have nothing to fear, Brynmor - and perhaps, it would be good for you to. I appreciate your presence in this matter, as difficult as it was for you."
Interrupted, his gaze turns away again, brows furrowed as he tilts his massive skull towards the newly emerging form. He says nothing, but finds himself bristling immediately upon hearing his tone. His muscles shift beneath his dark coat, tensing against taut flesh, eyeing his similar dark pelt and darker eyes. A sense of uncertain suspicion washes over him, waning only upon Nymphetamine's abrupt, sharp words. A faint smirk turns at the corner of his mouth as he realizes the dynamic unfolding before him. He, too, had experienced the joy (and anxiety) of unruly children - this one was clearly no different.
"Not a worry, Nymphetamine - I've had my share of children tossing infantile nicknames around. I am Offspring, resident abominable snowman. And King of the Tundra. Perhaps you should stay a spell and perhaps then you would learn a thing or two about what we have to offer. Unless you're afraid of a little cold and hard work." Many could not withstand the biting cold, the bone chilling winters, the terrorizing caves or the pressure of the brotherhood. He doubted this one could either.
He falls silent then, nodding simply to the blood bay standing irately at a distance. He says nothing more, then, as the boy announces his missing sibling. Offspring frowns then, features fading from amusement to concern. While he knew naught of the girl they spoke of, nor had he seen her, he thought of his sweet Maribel and the unborn child his precious Isle now carried. He had little to say now, but he remained still, waiting - knowing all to well that his promise of an alliance may be about to be tested.
He was a man that was always as true to his word as physically possible - and though perfection was far from what he was, he would do everything within his reach to make a promise or oath his own personal truth. With a slow, deliberate nod, he acknowledges the King of molten rock's words, observing his furrowed brow and listening to his firm, albeit gracious tone. "I appreciate that we are able to come to an agreement, Killdare. A pleasure, Nymphetamine. Carry on safely on your journey." He speaks softly to their turning backs, observing their forms as they begin to take leave.
He ponders for a long moment on Killdare's final statement, curious yet also concerned - how had he breached their walls without being seen, or heard? Had he crept into a cave under guise of invisibility? Perhaps he had a form of magic that allowed him transparency through the kingdom without actually having stepped hoof into it. He decides not to pursue it for now. He would venture out and find this gift, and decide whether or not his wariness is warranted - and he would ask questions (and unbeknownst to him now, thank him) later.
His gaze lazily turns to the dappled male beside him, his gaze boring into his as he spoke quietly to him. He deliberates for a long moment, and then, "I agree. I think you have nothing to fear, Brynmor - and perhaps, it would be good for you to. I appreciate your presence in this matter, as difficult as it was for you."
Interrupted, his gaze turns away again, brows furrowed as he tilts his massive skull towards the newly emerging form. He says nothing, but finds himself bristling immediately upon hearing his tone. His muscles shift beneath his dark coat, tensing against taut flesh, eyeing his similar dark pelt and darker eyes. A sense of uncertain suspicion washes over him, waning only upon Nymphetamine's abrupt, sharp words. A faint smirk turns at the corner of his mouth as he realizes the dynamic unfolding before him. He, too, had experienced the joy (and anxiety) of unruly children - this one was clearly no different.
"Not a worry, Nymphetamine - I've had my share of children tossing infantile nicknames around. I am Offspring, resident abominable snowman. And King of the Tundra. Perhaps you should stay a spell and perhaps then you would learn a thing or two about what we have to offer. Unless you're afraid of a little cold and hard work." Many could not withstand the biting cold, the bone chilling winters, the terrorizing caves or the pressure of the brotherhood. He doubted this one could either.
He falls silent then, nodding simply to the blood bay standing irately at a distance. He says nothing more, then, as the boy announces his missing sibling. Offspring frowns then, features fading from amusement to concern. While he knew naught of the girl they spoke of, nor had he seen her, he thought of his sweet Maribel and the unborn child his precious Isle now carried. He had little to say now, but he remained still, waiting - knowing all to well that his promise of an alliance may be about to be tested.
the ice king of the tundra
OFFSPRING
RE: When the days grow cold-[OFFSPRING;any] - vaughan - 04-03-2016
first off, fuck your bitch and the click you claim.
The black male rolls his eyes as Nymph begins to scold him, although he was used to being nagged at (thanks to his mother) he hadn't had a father figure, he wouldn't likely start now. He didn't know the burly man was the King but he did now. Vaughan had never met a King in person and had only been told to report to Straia, how naive he was. "Nah, I'm aight right where I am, Pops," quite the teenage mentality but little does he know it will be reprimanded in due time. "Perhaps that's what's missing! A male role model," he laughs knowing he is likely the only one to find it remotely funny, certainly not his father (or whom he assumes is his father). He grows more serious now that the Tundra's King speaks about caves and such.
"If I can survive flames licking my heels, I surely can survive a little snow," he scowls, growing irritated that he has been depicted as someone who couldn't make it. It isn't certain where Vaughan gets his determination from but it was likely Warship, though his other father was proving to be quite the busy body. Within seconds he grows angrier and it shows, his other black ear slicked back to his head and his eyes wider with irritation. He has a duty higher than himself though, to his sibling and his mother so he addresses Nymph now, "Calm down, Ms. Wendy Worrier. I'm sure she's fine, I just make it my business to keep up with her, the last I saw her she was heading home to tell Ma she was joining the Falls...I told her I'd be waiting for her but she hasn't returned yet, I followed you thinking perhaps she'd tried to tell her father the news too," he side eyes Nymph, although Vaughan had no notion of what being a father entails, he wasn't sure about it all. Kimber would have told them, she would have - right? Either way, he wasn't the most trusting of souls and so it would take time.
The ears come up, at least the unbroken one and he looks to Offspring, "Nymph will be sending regards to my mother as well," he smiles cockily, "Looks like I'm the newest member of the Tundra, gents."
"If I can survive flames licking my heels, I surely can survive a little snow," he scowls, growing irritated that he has been depicted as someone who couldn't make it. It isn't certain where Vaughan gets his determination from but it was likely Warship, though his other father was proving to be quite the busy body. Within seconds he grows angrier and it shows, his other black ear slicked back to his head and his eyes wider with irritation. He has a duty higher than himself though, to his sibling and his mother so he addresses Nymph now, "Calm down, Ms. Wendy Worrier. I'm sure she's fine, I just make it my business to keep up with her, the last I saw her she was heading home to tell Ma she was joining the Falls...I told her I'd be waiting for her but she hasn't returned yet, I followed you thinking perhaps she'd tried to tell her father the news too," he side eyes Nymph, although Vaughan had no notion of what being a father entails, he wasn't sure about it all. Kimber would have told them, she would have - right? Either way, he wasn't the most trusting of souls and so it would take time.
The ears come up, at least the unbroken one and he looks to Offspring, "Nymph will be sending regards to my mother as well," he smiles cockily, "Looks like I'm the newest member of the Tundra, gents."
VAUGHAN
RE: When the days grow cold-[OFFSPRING;any] - Nymphetamine - 04-04-2016
SIX FEET DEEP IS THE INCISION, SUNSETTER
Nymphetamine