October
October |
Trait please
- Year: 236
- Season: Spring, Birthing
- SWP: None
COTY
Assailant -- Year 226
QOTY
"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
|
The adventure begins
|
|
Trait please
Teal She was bleeding. It began as a gradual warmth at her breast, easily disregarded in her harried state of determination. She had a destination in mind, but like a golden butterfly on a breezy day, her path was erratic and disorderly. It was always that way for her as she chased after different smells in the air, dragged along by windy games that threw aromas in her face or ripped them away just when she thought she might be making headway. What she sought was of the most importance. A true life and death situation. And so, locked on to that one thing, she was able to ignore the ache in her muscle each time she walked, the trickle of coppery wetness sliding down her chest. She would find it. She had to. When the currents of air suddenly stopped sweeping across her clammy skin, she nearly cried out in frustration. You will show me where it is! But the winds didn't hear her. No one did with her thoughts locked within her mind. She was deaf to all sounds, and had never known the languages of speech. The only voice she had was primitive, much like her. Grunts and moans she'd never hear signaled her unhappiness. Bright, sudden smiles and throaty laughter were indicative of her joy. Every emotion was laid bare to those around her, expressed so baldly with no concept of society's preference of hiding them from others. The emotion slowly dominating her face now was hopelessness. Her brows were tightly knit together in concern for herself. Milky eyes stared wide at nothing; seeing nothing as she huffed nervously. With no idea how she would continue, she simply waited with her nose to the air and hoped the drifts would return with the scent she was tracking. Blind. Deaf. All she had were these tricky trails of smells that misled her as often as they aided her. Touch, taste... She had not yet worked out how those might help her find her way. Suddenly, the winds came back in a stormy rush. Her hair whipped around her face, stung her neck with its sharp bite. She screamed a panicked whinny, but had no notion of which direction was safe to run. No direction was safe for her to run, with no way to know where brutal obstacles would appear. And then she could taste something. The Cold. It had just been the Brittle, where crumbling and fragile things dusted beneath her weight like frail bones of trees. And now, in a swift maneuver, the temperature dropped. She retreated a number of steps, hesitant to accept this anomaly. An omen, perhaps. Her rump backed into a solid object. There had been nothing in the grassy plain she'd just stood. She turned about to inspect it cautiously, and instead of the sweet fragrance of grass, she was now surrounded by the musk of a forest. And stone. Delicate ears tipped forward hopefully. Trees were enemies that often manifested before her, scarring her pretty face over the years as she crashed violently into their rough armor. But stone. Rocks smelled like caves, and caves smelled like water. Caves often had water, even if just a weak trickle. She pressed her nose to the rock wall. Follow it that way? ...Or that way? Left. or Right. A snaking tingle of fading warmth chose for her, hinting at a shelter from this vicious Cold. Oh, how she hated the Cold. She followed to the left, tap-tapping her way along blindly. Her right side slid alongside the stone, dusting her coat with debris and fearful that she might lose sight of it if she couldn't feel it against her. Absently, she remembered her wound from earlier. It was now dried and healed, as though weeks of time had passed. No more pain. She brushed it aside easily with an inward shrug. Sometimes things were strange and not at all how she thought they should be. This was simply just another of those times, and all she could do was accept it and push forth. Finally, she came to a sharp turn in the surface. And, yes! She could taste moisture in the air! It was odd that it felt warmer within this cave rather than cooler as she expected it to be, but with the Cold out there, she wouldn't be questioning this new bit of luck. Accept it, and push forth. As she continued, something gave her pause. A tickle in the cup of her ear, a prickle against her skin. Was there danger here? Her friend Caveman lived in such places, and his home had been safe enough. She stomped impatiently as she mulled it over, but with the promise of water somewhere within and a sandpaper-dry tongue, she soon returned to her sliding path along the wall. Her determination was firm. She would find it. She had to. She was a primitive thing. Food, water, sleep. They were the only things she sought after. Survival. She knew no different. How could she? And so, as she slowly buried herself deeper within impenetrable darkness she was blind to, she heard no cries of distress. She saw no other paths to take, unaware she had chosen one. All she had was the vast emptiness on her left, and a solid wall on her right. Saliva pooled on her tongue in eager anticipation. She would have that water, and damn the wind for trying to misguide her. (path to the right; choosing trait as possible outcome )
12-26-2016, 10:57 AM
But all that they can see, the words revealed; the only real thing that I’ve got left to feel.
His unsteady legs begin to rise from the frigid silt that had long since settled into a dense clay, his wary eyes searching just beyond the thicket that he had so carefully tucked himself away into. His heart, with its weakened and irregular rhythm, pounds steadily within the confines of his chest, rising into his throat as fear seizes the very core of his being. The world no longer moves around him, though it seems to still move beneath him, and the thought paralyzes him. The air, which had been weaving through drying, brittle leaves, is now still - the winding branches above him suspended in an unnatural position, whisked up by the wind and suspended in time. With a mere turn of his broad cheek, he becomes eye level with a small and fragile hummingbird, with its gleaming eyes and tireless wings held still by some unseen force. A breath he hadn't known he'd been holding escapes, clouding the too-still bird in a cloak of fog from the warm carbon dioxide. Still, it does not move. Am I dying? Is this what death feels like? Time was a fickle thing - something fragile and too unpredictable, and yet often wasted and forgotten. Each and every tender thread of life hangs in the balance, with the wiry, sharpened scissors of Time hanging precariously over its delicately woven string, too easily ignored in the midst of the brutality of war and the throes of passion and pining. His own thread hung thinner than most from birth, his heart weak and poorly functioning. Every breath could be his last, and too many times he had come dangerously close to a pitiful, lonely and dire end. His heart pounds still, thrumming loudly in his head as the silence begins to settle, enveloping and suffocating him. Suddenly, the world begins to move around him again, but too quickly. The dying leaves fall to the impacted ground below, the colors rapidly shifting and changing from vibrant hues of orange and yellow to a dull beige, to a dreary white and gray. The once clear sky is soon shrouded in thick, heavy clouds in the distance, from which dense snowflakes fall. A shiver trails along the course of his spine as a feeling of dread slowly simmers within the pit of his belly. I've died; I'm dead. The end has come from him, and now it is showing him all that he will miss. His long legs move forward without command, his chest tight and pained from the strain of his adrenaline on his delicate organs. Time is shifting and changing around him, and yet he feels disconnected and uncomfortable in its quickened presence - as if it were a skin he was never meant to wear. The glacial air caresses his warm flesh, urging him towards something he cannot see or know. It reminds him of his youth, of delicate moments shared with his mother, of being cradled too close to his father in a desperate bid to hide away from the frigid cold of the tundran winter. An ache grows within him now, but his heart churns still, and he can only recognize the pain as bubbling, festering regret. He longed for those days of innocence; as forgotten as Time himself. At last, his spindly legs carry him over the rising crest of a hill, and his deep brown eyes peer upon the immense, brooding cave that lay before him. Three entrances - one to the right, one to the left and one centered evenly between. Another puff of air emerges now as a long, drawn out sigh falls from his whiskered lips. Decisions, he says to no one but himself. What could it possibly matter? I've already died. But a sound echoes off of the dense chambers of one of the pathways, bouncing off the rivets and grooves of hardened stone, causing his heart to seize again. A voice. A scream. A plea for help. With a sudden surge of adrenaline, he paces, anxiety riddled within his slender body as he moves between each entrance. Which was the sound coming from? It sounded as if it were reverberating from each equally. Still, they screamed, and his mind screamed too. Finally, a sharp turn is made towards the center cavern as he launches himself blindly into the bleak darkness of it all, seeking the sound and hoping with fervent wonder that he might find something fulfilling in the end. And not his own end. ARGO Just stuck, hollow and alone.
And the fault is my own. Argo takes the center path, and prefers a trait over points.
12-26-2016, 11:27 AM
(This post was last modified: 12-26-2016, 01:32 PM by Briske.
Edit Reason: Clarity is clear
)
She hasn't yet learned the concept of Time, doesn't even know the meaning of the word. She is but a young girl, whose only concerns tend to center around her other half. Her twin, her likeness and her opposite, all in one. Oh, and food. Food is extra important. They were old enough now for forage, teeth grown in that are perfect for nipping and grinding. They have lost their foal fuzz and since it is autumn, they exchange that for warmer winter coats. They're growing larger, taller and thicker in bone. Her Russie's horn is getting longer and coming to a point instead of that blunt nub she had noticed after their first couple months of life. Boy, and that thing could hurt! He'd poked her with it one good time a couple weeks ago, leaving a nice little welt behind that has since scabbed over and begun to heal. She doesn't truly realize that is all thanks to Time. The peach-colored boy had tagged his apricot sister (with his nose, this time) and taken off, laughing in his silly way, knowing she would give chase. She giggled as she ran, eyes trained on his retreating peachy butt with black tail flagged. "Gonna get'cha!" She goaded, mischievous grin in place. She is lighter than him, quicker on her feet, but she doesn't put her all into catching him. She prefers to prolong the game, making it more fun for them both. He responds by squealing and throwing himself into a wild leap, as if he would suddenly sprout wings and fly away. But he doesn't. In fact, he doesn't anything. LIke some kind of crazy dream, he freezes mid-leap, suspended in the air with that silly grin spread wide over his face. Briske skids to a halt beside him, staring up at her twin in shock and awe. "Russie? How you do that?!" As though it was some new trick he's learned. But he doesn't answer, makes no movements and takes no breaths. "Rustle?" She boops his side, gently at first, and then harder when he still doesn't answer. Nipping at him, she dives under her twin's floating body, giggling and trying not to panic. "Ruuuussie!!" Flicking her tail at him, she whips around and snorts in his face. "Heeeyyyy..." Nothing. She 'humphs' and backs away from him, eyeing the world around them for possibly the first time all day. Her ears twitch to and fro as her light brown eyes scan the area, and she quickly realizes that her twin isn't the only one frozen in place. Everything is. "What the..?" Birds are halted mid-flight, a squirrel mid-climb. The wind ceased to blow. There were no smells! She darts between a few trees and sees some adults nearby, suspended mid-chew or mid-step. One guy was even mid-pee! Whoooa.. And then, just as suddenly, things start to change. A few flakes of snow drift past her face, slow and sweet toward the ground. Leaves begin to slowly float from the branches. It was a slow change at first, and she doesn't quite realize what is happening is abnormal aside from the time freeze until things speed up all crazy. The wind sweeps through and almost shoves her off-balance, making her shiver with the bite of cold it brings. Snow rapidly covers the ground and the trees are stripping right in front of her, making her think maybe she should avert her eyes. She snickers and then prances off into the snow, staring in awe at the amazing show the world gives her to see. Soon, she notices the immediate change in seasons is making a trail, the snow and fall of leaves continuing onward to the east. Hmm, she thinks, curiosity piqued. A gust of wind shoves at her rear end, strong enough to push her to take one step. Ahh, cooold.. She shivers, but begins to think there must be some reason that she still moves while everyone else is still. The wind sweeps by again and she snorts. Okay, okay! Briske, taller now, curves filled out and a nice orangey coat surrounding her, returns to her twin who is just as he was for a quick moment, giving him a soft nuzzle. "I'm gonna go see what's going on, Russie. I'll be back soon, though, 'kay?"" She lingers, not wanting to leave him. They're never far apart from one another. But she has to see what this all is, what it means. And so she goes, leaving tthe half that makes her whole, following the trail of fallen leaves to the east. The wind whips at her sides, almost as though to urge her on. Whether that was the case or not, she is compelled to move faster, making use of her lengthy limbs and pumping agile muscles. Feels good to run when it's cold like this, and she smiles as she kicks up her heels, heartbeat matching her strides. Light brown eyes follow the path of winter ahead, until she sees it. The cave standing, gaping, in a random patch of still-warm autumn. The trees around it are still alive with their cover, all reds and oranges and yellows. The grass in just this area is untouched by the snow. Curious. She bounds through the cold, rapidly approaching this anomaly among anomalies. Once she steps into the circle, the wind stills and warmth replaces. The girl of apricot and black comes to stand before the yawning stone mouth, in awe and nervous wonder. Briske is full of adventure, always, but as of yet she had always had her brother. He had her back, made her brave. Nothing could defeat them together. But, in this, she is alone. A glance back behind her at this strange changed world validates her thought. Then, a faint piercing sound reaches out to her, and she flips her pretty head back to the cave entrance, ears perked to attention. A chill runs up her spine, despite the warmth of this little oasis. Her eyes wide, she takes the plunge, stepping into the deep and the dark. But the low light has never been a problem for her. Her vision adjusts quickly, able to cut through the shadows and catch the movements of critters on the walls as she travels farther in. The scream sounds again, and she gasps at the lonesome sound. A cry for help? Heart beating wild in her chest, she comes to a fork. Three passageways. Left, center and right. She sniffs, but only scents the dark and dank of the rocky cavern. "Who's there?!" She calls, and is brazened by the courage in her voice. The screams are her only answer, their echoes bouncing off every wall and disrupting the direction of origin. Taking a deep breath, she eyes each tunnel equally and sets forward. Down the center. Forward is the only way to go now. "I'm coming!" She calls back again, sifting through the shadows with some ease as she follows. Ready or not... Word count: 1177 Jeez, Bri.. cut it closer, would ya? xD Briske chooses right down the middle the center path, and would prefer a trait over points. This is fun! Thank you!
12-26-2016, 12:10 PM
Oh, it’s another beautiful, wonderful, happy day! With very little coaxing I managed to talk Mommy into taking me to visit Uncle uh-KADE-ee-an again, and even if he is not the cuddliest uncle ever - well, I guess he is MY cuddliest uncle, so kind of he is the cuddliest uncle? Anyhow, even if he doesn’t like to snuggle with me, which is very sad, well at least he is fun to play with. And by play with I mean talk to? He is not very playlike either, come to think of it. Well, whatever, he has lots of fun things about him that I am still discovering, and that’s good too. Today, while I bounce around and crunch leaves, he and Mommy have themselves a little chat, which is fun because Momma gets extra sassy ‘round Uncle Kade. She is all snuggles and love and cuddles around Daddy, but with Uncle Kade, she says funny things that tickle my belly and make me giggle. And she calls him Princess! I grin and laaaugh and flop down to roll in a pile of crunchy leaves, and when I get up again, everything is...stuck. “Mommy?” I bound over to her, where she and Uncle Kade are standing totally still just sorta staring at each other, not blinking or breathing or moving at all. I nudge Momma first, but nothing happens. Ohhh I don’t like that. At all at all. “Uncle Kade?” I hop toward him and bounce in front of him, but he doesn’t even flick an ear my way. “Uncle. uh-KADE-ee-an!” Nothing. With a frown and a snort, I gather myself up and pounce his way, bumping into his shoulder with all my weight - oh hey he IS soft, I was totally right! - but he doesn’t even budge. This is not good. Maybe Daddy can fix it? My mouth twists to the side and I get this nervous tickle in my chest, and in my belly too, all fluttery like butterflies but ones that make me a little queasy instead of making my eyes light up and a smile take over my whole face. This is not happy butterflies, nope, nope, nope. Oh, goodness me. I turn to go look for Daddy, because Daddy can fix everything. Just a kiss and boo boos vanish like magic. Maybe he can wake Mommy and Uncle Kade up with kisses too. ‘Cept before I get more than a step or two towards home, the whole world turns colder and the last of the grass is curling up and turning winter brown, and snow’s falling in the distance, everything coming from one direction. I should go get Daddy. I should definitely go get Daddy. It’s a very, very bad idea to wander that way all by myself. Especially when it’s away from the grown-ups in my family and towards some spooky mysterious wave of winter. Except my feet just sorta go that way, like they got detached from my head and are just gonna go check out the cool new adventuresome changes instead of being smart and making Daddy come with. Or Kiss Mommy and Uncle awake first and then we ALL go. I walk, walk, walk away from home and safe and smart, leaving everything and everybody I know behind to follow the tugging on my feet. I follow it all the way to a cave, and by then I’m shivery cold and a cozy cave seems like a good idea. Plus! Oh, plus there’s light! Just like Mommy’s, all glowy happy floaty light, that’s got to mean it’s safe. Oh yay! I hop towards the mouth of the cave, but then I hear a scary kinda sound like maybe somebody’s in trouble in there. Oh no! “Hello?” Screams are scary, and I don’t like them, not at all. But if somebody’s in trouble, I should help, right? Right. So I gather myself up and take a deep breath, my lips pursed with a combination of that scary tickly feeling that I think is maybe fear, and determination - that one I know already for sure. And with one big nod, I launch myself into the cave, past the pretty lights and straight into the dark. There are three paths, and I can’t tell which one it’s coming from, so I run right up the middle, go go go! Don’t worry, I’ll save you! Or at least I’ll do my best. ((Rora picks the middle path, and would prefer a trait as a potential quest reward. Thank you! ^_^)) pic by Qinni Time—a fathom of something that gently cresses the mind day after day. It is a measurement to some, but to others time is everything or nothing. For Lucrezia, she had been one of the millions that had thought of nothing when it came to time. Time was simply an element of the world that she felt did not touch her. She had found herself invincible to all things that bounded the earth and cosmoses together into one being. However, she, has learned the importance of time like all others who will eventually learn this lesson. Time is a valuable and significant matter to all aspects of life. It stretches through the earth into the stars, beyond galaxies and into other worlds. There is nothing that limits time, as if time itself is the very creator of all. Time controls everything in one way or another. Like all others who have learned the importance of time, she has become a slave to it. Lucrezia knows there is a limit to all things now. She had once believed her life would standstill while she figured out her childish thoughts and questions to who she was. In the end, she had run out of time—selflessly thinking the world would wait for her—as she let the world run her home, the Deserts, into the very depths of the earth, covered by a flood. And yet, this time, she does not allow such ideal and fantasies hold her back. Lucrezia puts her whole self into everything she does now in this new given life. She has let go of anything holding her back now—memories and thoughts of the old world. It is a process that has taken her years since the Reckoning has come, but she has found her strength within the very depths of her heart. Her soul, young and still learning, knows there will be set backs. Lucrezia, always and forever, is optimistic of this new life now. More than ever, she feels more aware of herself and time. She had risen, like most days, in the early hours of the morning to make her way from Tephra to the field. Lucrezia had found herself in the deep rhythms of being a diplomat again. She had sunk into the old habits. It all had come back so easily to her. Overall, it was the very thing she needed to do and for the sake of her new home, Tephra. Everything was for her home now. When she arrives in the field, the morning air is crispy. She can feel the cold brush of the autumn wind running down her spine. It causes her body to shake and hair to stand. Her coat is rather thin due to the high temperatures living near hot springs and a small volcano. However, Lucrezia makes her way forward towards the waterfall in the distance. The cawing of crows this early morning is loud; she takes note of it. The grass feels dry and eventually, she knows, there will be little amount of food in Beqanna as winter comes. But she does not think of winter just yet, her mind is on finding anyone that is looking for a home. But time itself had another plan. Suddenly, the world stops around her. She hears the cawing of birds come to a silence. The rushing of the waterfall, so close in distance now, down into the lake freezes. There is complete silence around her. It is a haunting feeling for just a moment, something eerie that reminds her of the forest that stands between the meadow and field. However, it reminds her the Chamber. Lucrezia then feels comfort, it consumes all the fear and haunting feel that took over her mind and heart. Her nutmeg gaze, curiously, looks around. Lucrezia, more than ever, notices the very details of the world around her. Her eyes take in the way the water stands still, almost as if it is frozen in place (to some degree it is). She turns her eyes then to the land that stretches behind her. Her eyes take note of the few horses in the field that are coming out from their slumber. The flaming autumn trees grab her attention next and then the few crows stuck in the sky, attempting to fly away. Lucrezia then turns around to face behind her. All of a sudden the world moves again—time flows forward at a speed that cannot be measured. Lucrezia feels the air abruptly grow cold, the leaves plucked from the trees, and the grass now dry and brown beneath her hooves. Her eyes blink frantically, as her heart jumps into her throat and then drops into the pit of her stomach. “What the hell,” she whispers out loud, unsure of what exactly had happened just now. She looks across the land, watching as everything dies in some sort of direction. The snow falling from the north then catches her attention. Lucrezia takes a step forward without thinking, an instinct of curiosity draws her forward. She takes another step forward and then another until all legs are moving across the dry, browned grass. Her pace picks up within moments as she is being lead towards some destination. Lucrezia does not question what she is following or where she is going. She has never asked such things before, always letting the hand of fate guide her. Eventually, she sees a cave in the distance. She has never seen this cave before or the strange way that autumn still lingers around it. It was strange and exciting to see such a display of winter and autumn neck to neck. Her eyes light up with interest as she makes her way closer to the cave. When she arrives at the cave, she pears at the painted trees of fire. The air is warmer here compared to the bitter cold winter she had been plunged into. Lucrezia does not linger long on the autumn scene as the glowing orbs floating at the mouth of the cave grab her attention. She considers the glowing orbs, questioning their ability to float without anything. It was astonishing, and she wonders for just a moment if someone might be playing a trick on her. Lucrezia’s eyes dart from side to side as she pears behind here. There is a scream then! Lucrezia turns her eyes back quickly to the mouth of the cave. She takes a couple steps forward, instinctively ready to help whoever or fight whatever made that horrible noise. Yet, there was no time to wait. Lucrezia quickly makes her way into the darkness of the cave. Her heart is beating fast, but there is excitement pumping through her blood. An adventure is just around the corner; she can feel it! When she enters the cavern, it is dark. Her nutmeg eyes take a bit to adjust to the change of lightening. When her eyes adjust to the light, she notices the three pathways ahead of her. She considers the pathways for a few moments. They are quiet dark, she thinks. If anything good was to come from this, it seemed very far off. Lucrezia can feel a sense of fear creeping up her spine—it almost takes over her mind before the loud, screeching screams is heard more vividly this time. Her eyes widen at the screams; their high pitched shrieks make her heart jump frantically. Lucrezia shakes her head, little such silly thoughts of fear fall away back into the shadows of her mind. The screams are coming again; it feels like all three pathways scream for help. Lucrezia sweeps her gaze across all the pathways again. She swallows the air hard, and quickly moves to the very left pathway. “I’m coming!” She screams back at the cries for help. Her hooves pound against the stone cavern floors, as the sound of her hooves echo through the left pathway. Lucrezia must hurry. Time is running out. OOC: Lucrezia went down the left pathway, and she would like a trait for a potential reward from the quest. Thank you!
Profile | Detailed Bio | Character Reference |
|
« Next Oldest | Next Newest »
|
Users browsing this thread: 2 Guest(s)