AuroraElis
Not all that glitters is gold
Elimination:
* Valensia- according to database this character was not born in Sept or Nov seasons this year or joined between those months.
Beqanna
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
I Spy With my Little Eye...[Round Two] [Closed]
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12-11-2017, 11:46 AM
(This post was last modified: 12-16-2017, 08:27 AM by AuroraElis.)
AuroraElis Not all that glitters is gold Elimination: * Valensia- according to database this character was not born in Sept or Nov seasons this year or joined between those months.
12-11-2017, 05:52 PM
These are a few of my favorite things. For a moment, there is nothing. Margaux's breath is caught in her chest, and her eyes are affixed to the quivering tail-tip of the little red canine in front of her. Between one heartbeat and the next, the silence breaks. Out of the shadows comes a rumbling, predatory growl. The pony filly feels the blood in her veins turn to ice. This is it. This is the end, and I'm never going to see Mama again. It takes a concentrated effort, but she forces her eyes to look beyond the foxling's brush, beyond his stiff back, past his ears (which have flattened against the little triangular skull), and past his pointed nose. Like a guiding arrow, she needs only to raise her line of sight up. Several feet above her head, at she is given her first glimpse of the beast. At first, all she sees is a pair of glittering, cold blue eyes. They seem lit by some internal light, sparkling like frost in morning sunlight. She is entranced, held captive by their feral beauty. Another coarse moan echoes through the trees, and it is too much for the fox. He squeals like a kit, scrabbling against the frozen ground to disappear in the undergrowth. Aghast, the red girl follows him with her eyes, thinks of following him with her feet, until a heavy SNAP whips her attention back to the immediate threat. Blue eyes belong to an arctic white face. It is broad and snub snouted, and fangs (or were those icicles?) as long as her foreleg protruded from the wide maw. Behind the face comes a thick, muscular body, cloaked in long white hair. She is terrified beyond anything she's ever felt before. And yet she can't help but notice how the lush pelted creature seems to glitter as intensely as fresh snow. It stands out in her mind, vivid glimmers of white against the dark background. Until she looks back down. It is only a quick glance, she does not dare look away from it's face for long. It in enough, though. She saw the massive, long clawed paws. She is sure now, that those fangs are made of ice, for it seems that the claws are made of much the same material. They shine in the weak light, white and transparent, with what she is certain is a razors edge. It is a massive Abominable Snowbear that stands before her. A beast she had only heard tales about, they were not native to Beqanna. Surely if they were, there would be no horses left here. This monster stands giant, far taller than any horse the little girl has ever seen. He is cloaked in a barely-there, intangible aura. Frosty blue, it swirls about his form like a miniature snow storm. For a moment, they take each other in. Enormous snow bear and tiny pony lass observe each other, waiting for the other to move. With a billowing huff of air, the bear nods his head, and steps closer to the terror-frozen filly. She clamps her eyes tight shut, teeth clenched, waiting for the bite, the claws, the pain. It does not come. Instead, she is shocked by a cold breath on her face. Honey eyes flying open, the bear is right before her, blunt snout a scant inch from her nose. He has had to crouch to get this close to her, and it gives her sudden insight. His snow white shoulders are not flawless. Across one sloping plane runs a deep gash, weeping vivid blue ichor. It has stained his pelt, and as his face fills her field of vision, she looks beyond his imposing stature. Impassive blue eyes stare into hers. She sees now, that they are not hungry. If they are sharp, she is sure it is because they are in pain. "Oh dear..." She murmurs. "You need help, don't you?" The question is rhetorical, so she is surprised when the massive shaggy head nods to her emphatically, a higher pitched moan vibrating through the bears throat. A breath she didn't realize she'd been holding rushed from her nose. Ok. So what if he was a lot bigger than a mouse or a fox? Or even her, for that matter? She could do this. She hoped. She glanced around, hoping for some inspiration. It was winter, which meant everything was pretty much dead. She bit her lip thoughtfully, very aware of the sharp fangs right behind her. Her eyes fell to the base of a tree. With how dense the forest grows here, there is not much snow. Instead, the thick moss is allowed to continue living, and it coats the bases of several trees nearby. She nods to herself, a plan forming in her mind. She moved slowly to the nearest mossy trunk, and began to kick at it. Gradually, a pile of brown-green moss gathered at her feet, filling the air with its clean scent. She looked over her shoulder to try and gauge how much she'd need to fill the gash. It was long and thin, like something else clawed had gotten a hold of him. What on earth could damage something so huge? A mouthful of damp moss in her dainty mouth, she returns to the snow bear's side. His eyes haven't left her form the entire time, tracking her as she went about her work. She eyed his shoulder dubiously. It was very high up there. Uhhh... She stood back a moment, thinking. Not knowing what else to do, she pawed the needle covered earth, then bent her front legs to kneel down, a sort of pantomime of what she wanted him to do. "Lay down, please?" She asked, hoping he'd understand her as well as he had the first time. A sigh of relief passed through her as he crouched lower, rolling into his broad side so that the injury was easily accessible. If she didn't know any better, she'd say a look of amusement had crossed the glistening predator's features. Now to get to work. It took some time, and a tense moment where she had hit a nerve. The ensuing roar had her convinced that the snow beast was going to change his mind about eating her, but the moment passed and he settled back down with just a little more grumbling. Before long, her work was done. The girl stepped back, assessing the moss she had packed into the poor beast's wound. It had been deeper than it looked, his shoulder bone had been glinting through torn blue muscles. Amazingly, his entire skeleton appeared to be made of bone-hard ice. It was not a fix. She wasn't sure if she had actually even done any good, beside stopping the bleeding. Her patient seemed satisfied, however, after his own inspection. With a tiny, cautious smile, she took another step back, trying to leave the beast to his own devices. She had done what she could, she didn't want the next need she filled to be his hungry belly. The towering snow bear wasn't having it. A coughing snarl stopped her in her tracks. It was clear that he wasn't done with her just yet. With a heave, he pulled himself back to his feet, leaving a patch of blue stained snow where he had been laying. With a determined look, he stepped forward, steady despite the favoring of the injured foreleg. Now he was going to eat her. Of course, after he made her fix him up, it only made sense! But no, she was wrong again. No gnashing teeth or meaty paw came down to crush her. Just a soft, cold nose, prodding her in the direction he had first come from. It was not a hard push, but the insistence behind it was clear. She was coming with him, or else. The wide eyed child looked up at him. She was getting tired. This adventure had gone on long enough, and this Santa person probably didn't exist to begin with. "Do I have to?" She asked, hating the whine that had crept into her tone. The bear only nodded mutely, leaving no room for discussion. Another prodding nudge, and she began walking. This was absolutely kidnapping and she resented it. After all she had done! The girl huffed, pouting as her silent companion lead the way, glancing back every few paces to ensure she was still following. After a few minutes of walking, a flash of red caught her eye. The next second her familiar foxy friend had reappeared, trotting to keep up with the snow bear's long strides even more than she was. "Well, come on up, you coward." She offered, forgiving his running away as soon as she saw him. One leap later, he was nestled into the curve of her back, no remorse whatsoever in his pointed features. Snow began to fall. First in small flurries, then thickening into a downfall of fat crystalline flakes that began to obscure the landscape. Not knowing what else to do, the red girl sped up to walk against the huge bear, letting him block the worst of the wind. This doubled as preventing her losing him as well. Large as the bear was, he seemed to grow less visible in the snow. Not just because he was white, it seemed that the very edges of him lost their tangibility the heavier it got. What a strange creature... They walked for miles. The snowstorm faded just as the day's light began to, turning the world into a vibrant painting of sunset on snow. Margaux had never seen anything so beautiful. Not even that beautiful peacock lady, who she was starting to have second thoughts about anyway. Too soon, the sky faded to deep purples and blues. It was getting cold, too cold to keep going much longer. She was about to give up and lay down in the snow when a hum from the bear made her look up. Soft, multicolored lights hung in the air before them, forming a thread that stretched into the darkness. A satisfied smile pulled at the bear's lips, exposing more of his frozen fangs. He set off again, walking below the jewel colored lights, following them like a path. Exhaustion forgotten, the girl went after him, marveling at how they lit his coat with kaleidoscopic patterns. She did not feel the cold so much anymore. They walked along the lighted path for only a few minutes before the twinkling strand multiplied. There were now several dozen strands floating above them. One moment they simply pulsed in the air, the next they scattered. Each strand flowed up and around a tree, until the entire grove they'd come to was illuminated in a rainbow of colors. A tree taller than the others stood at the center of it all, and it shone brighter than anything else around them. The wondrous show was all the little girl noticed at first, and it wasn't until the snow bear left her side did she take a closer look. At the base of the magnificent tree, in the center of the enchanted grove, stood an elderly man. The bear nuzzled him like an old friend before settling at his side, and watched as Margaux stepped closer. "You're... you're Santa Claus, aren't you?" She whispered. provoke » death is nothing, but to live defeated and inglorious is to die daily « TL;DR - Basically Provoke Astral Projected herself to another dimension based on the fears she exhibited from learning about Santa Claus. She sees a Snow Man. But her fears are in her head. She is so petrified by the thought of Santa and Christmas that her powers have gone completely wild and she is out of control. She kicks the Snow man until he falls apart, and then she is transported back to Beqanna, where she runs into the REAL Santa Clause, but she doesn't know who she's talking to just yet.
12-12-2017, 07:27 PM
Babadook Darkness has a way of playing games on those who delve deep into its embrace. There’s something magical about the way the mind works when light ceases to shine its light. Babadook has experienced the tricks of the shadows many times before (the ominous threat of a bear looming above him only to be a tree, the sliding tendrils of a snake wrapping around his ankles only to be a wandering vine, the sharp slices of a creature’s fangs on his shoulder only to be a thicket of poking underbrush) yet time and time again his terror overrides his ability to rationalize. He is already on edge from the spooks of his own imagination. So when the sound of the twig cracking echos in his ear, Babadook is already seeing the looming, menacing creatures in the dark corners of the shadows. A shameless cry is thrown out of his cracked lips and he closes his dark eyes despite not even knowing what he is scared of. His muscles tighten instinctively and he crouches low to the ground (an action he performs swiftly, having done it many times before in the presence of his annoyed mother). There is no sound but a quiet, gentle panting. Babadook raises his head quietly from where it was bent between his knees, eyes blurry as he opens them. There is a murky, ivory shape that eventually sharpens into the form of a small wolf. At first, panic flies through Babadook’s chest with all the quickness and ferocity of a shooting star. But it dims when he realizes the wolf is a young one — just past the softness of childhood. The wolf is formed of snow, Babadook realizes, and his brow furrows as he notes the air is exceptionally warm. Yet he does not melt into the soil and his crystalline body is a swirl of snow and ice. Sharp ice teeth poke through his lips and his eyes are a deep sky blue. His two little ears sit perched, twisting in Babadook’s direction. “Oh.” The colt rises onto his long skinny legs and looks over the young wolf with more curiosity and less terror. “You’re not scary or trying to eat me.” A hesitant smile crawls across his mouth. “I’m looking for someone named Santa Clause and he’s supposed to grant me a gift! Do you want to help me look for him?” The wolf’s head tips to the side, and then his lips part in a timid, canine smile. “Great! Let’s start looking over here.” Babadook prances off into the shadows away from the river, suddenly more bold now that he has a fearless wolf protector. The snow-wolf pads along beside him, his shoulders coming to Babadook’s withers. They are perfectly-sized for one another and the wolf’s snow fur brushes cooly against his companion’s silver black coat. It soothes Babadook from the warmth of the day and the sweat from walking for so long. They eventually forget their ambitions, as children often do. They spend the rest of the day wandering in the thickness of the forest, jumping over small logs and splashing through streams and chasing squirrels up trees. It is only when darkness falls that Babadook remembers his quest to find Santa, granted to him by the gentle mother among the morning dew of the playground. “We forgot about Santa!” he squeals. The carefree day spent as a true child, playing with a friend, is cut short coldly by the forgetfulness. “Do you think he’ll still be out when it’s so dark?” Babadook begins to fret anxiously, lungs inhaling breaths quicker with each moment. His snow friend stills him with a icy nose placed to Babadook’s chest. Then, with a flick of his ears, he leads him to a cave set against a rocky hill the colt hadn’t noticed before. “You knew this whole time?” The itch of betrayal stings for a moment, but it is soothed by the balm of curiosity. The skinny colt steps into the cool of the cave. “Hello? Santa?” There is a rustling in the shadows. |
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