Beqanna
Your future's in an oblong box (Evils/Neutrals) - Printable Version

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Your future's in an oblong box (Evils/Neutrals) - Oubliette - 07-22-2015

The stallion might as well be made of bones with hide pulled over his frame as taut as a drum.  What little muscle he has is stringy and stands at attention under his drab pelt, their movements visible as a walking anatomy lesson.



The sky was moody today.  Tumultuous thunderheads had scuttled across the sky to roil together, their black bodies streaked with a queasy green color that suggested the worst was yet to come.  The air was humid and dead as if the land was holding its breath for the coming storm, the stink of ozone filled Oubliette's nostrils.

Colorlessly black pupils gazed over the grasses with disinterest, giving as little mind to the few souls who had found themselves enveloped by this bad weather as to the clouds themselves.  "Unlucky to a man..."  He mumbled to himself in a rusty voice that was soon drowned out as the heavens burst and rain fell in sheets.  The grasses were flattened under the deluge and his drab, mousy grullo became almost black with the wet.  

Other than a flattening of his ears, he might have been a statue for all the rain bothered him.  This was perhaps his most unbecoming trait, two sets of ears where other horses had only one.  The first seemed normal enough as they laid against his skull but the second set seemed floppy, they hung low against his neck and only gave a slight twitch.  Dry, black hair hung in strawlike clumps from his too-straight neck, his tail was lank and lip and a bit too short.

Much like the scarecrow his skeletal figure resembled, other horses seemed to shy away from him but perhaps someone would be brave enough, desperate enough, or curious enough to approach.

RE: Your future's in an oblong box (Evils/Neutrals) - Warship - 07-22-2015

i'm on the wrong side of heaven, and the righteous side of hell


The shitty weather was following him. Only days before (he assumed it had been days, but being a horse he had no real conception of time and its passage) he’d fled the comforts of home when it had become well, uncomfortable. Winter was knocking on the Chamber’s door, starting in the mountains but steadily making its way to his living area. Old, bitchy bones and winter didn’t often mix. So to the Field he had went, looking for warmth and recruits. Two birds one stone and all that jazz. Unfortunately, the poor weather had followed him here, as if to spite the old stallion. It was bullshit, but such is Warship’s luck.

The sky rumbled angrily, and Warship turned his face quickly upwards. Clouds piled on top of clouds, until the sky simply had no more room for them. Finally, one cloud broke, followed by the others, until he was enveloped in an absolute downpour. He could feel the electricity in the air, and instinct told him that shortly this open clearing would be a dangerous place to be. A snort leaves his nostrils, pissed now that not only will he be wet, but surely the weather will frighten off anyone he might had tried to recruit. But as he’s trotting towards the forest where he’d planned to ride out the storm, a lank figure catches his eye. The other stallion is standing rock-like in the heart of the storm, ears pinned flat and tail hunched. Warship thinks for a moment, gritting his teeth for a moment before heading over, his own face as sour as the sky. On approach he notices not one ear pinned, not two, but four. Odd he supposed, but who wasn‘t odd in Beqanna these days? “Why in the ever loving hell are you standing here? Only an idiot would stand in the middle of this shit, and you don’t look like any other idiot I’ve known.” he says, his voice loud to reach over the howling of the wind and the clashing of the thunder. “Warship, Chamber army. Care to get out of this storm?” he asks hopefully, already leaning in that general direction. Storms and old men just didn’t mix.


warship



RE: Your future's in an oblong box (Evils/Neutrals) - Eld - 07-23-2015


Just throw it back, for one more night
On a starlit and moon-struck night.

I've become quite used to getting sodden. I had after all entered Beqanna on one of the stormiest of days. The thunder boiled above, lightning had lit the dark, clouded heavens and I, I was stood in the heart of the field, as sodden as though I'd stepped out from bursting river banks. My strawberry roan coat dripped, even now, as I trotted through the Field. I'd been wandering, green eyes looking out for potential lost souls drifting along the masses. When the heavens opened, the thunder promised skies had threatened, I decided perhaps it was best to leave, finding it not that productive.

My ears laid back against my crown, lost within the slick wet mounds of red mane, my vast feathers dripped and trickled with water and mud as I trotted, sinking here in patches and slipping in others. Clumsy at the best of times, I tried to take it easier when the ground was this slippery. However, my attention was diverted and I lost my backend briefly, before slipping on my flank and having myself back up. If I were not already blushed red in colour, and was even capable of such a colourful taint, my cheeks would have risen a crimson red. I continued though, spotting a dark shadow, standing right in the heart of the meadow. I'd been there once. Cold, wet and alone. I whinnied gently, before deciding to approach, as I turned my wayward direction, another joined him. By the time I reached the two steeds, I caught his words. The rain ran off my face as I greeted the pair. 'Not such a pleasant day!' I said, my tone as cheery as a lark song, even with matts of hair sticking up and laying flat against my soaked frame. 'Hello, Warship. And, Sir. I'm Eld, of the Falls.' I say, trying to keep it simple, but as ever my lips part and I seem to lose all control of my thoughts. Nervous habit I'd hazard a guess. 'I understand the term washing away regret, sorrow. But this, this takes the green grass of it! You'd get cold standing there for too long. I can offer you a place to stay, not far from here. It saw me fit for shelter, and that's something! You look like you could do with a nice bit of grass, a bit of rest.'

The ground did fold and eat us both
But all my love, I did devote.

- resident of the falls -


RE: Your future's in an oblong box (Evils/Neutrals) - Weir - 07-25-2015





Ah, rain. Both a pleasant and unpleasant act of nature if you asked Weir. Still, even if you didn't ask he would be of the same opinion, and just as like to tell you. The roan had set off to the fields at a crawl, watching the cloud cover accumulate overhead, all until the thunder heads had unleashed their liquids below. He was positively soaked, auburn tendrils plastered flat against his neck, his plume stuck inconveniently to his left buttock.

The gentleman had, at the very least, picked up the pace. He trotted with intent, spying a group of three that were equally caught in the downpour. One a brawny black male, toned, grizzlied. A soldier most likely for whichever Kingdom he called home, a seasoned one if Weir were to guess. A large female was present as well, she also had a lovely canvas of roan and a blaze to boot. Though there would be no mistaking one for the other, as she towered over both males.

"Hello sir, my lady, are we in need of-oh." Oh indeed, his curiousity flared as he finally viewed the 3rd the woman had hid. He had at first thought the two might be in need of assistance, why ever else had they stood stock in the open? This though, this was wonderful, he was delighted he had stopped by. "Why what a glorious variation," his words terribly bright for such weather, nor did he avert his eyes. Amber orbs inquire at the grullo's crown, an intense desire to inspect the second set of ears.

He cleared his throat, taking in the rest of the view. Such a thin,rail-like creature. "Pardon me. I am Weir of the Dale, such a pleasure." He really meant it too, his voice and eyes alight with interest.
 

Eclectic Vagabond of the Dale