Nymphetamine
cold was my soul, untold was the pain I faced when you left me: a rose in the rain
ooc: What is this... I hate starter posts, I suck at them. >.<
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
A Rose in the Rain [Any]
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05-04-2016, 09:16 PM
(This post was last modified: 05-04-2016, 09:19 PM by Nymphetamine.)
Nymphetamine cold was my soul, untold was the pain I faced when you left me: a rose in the rain ooc: What is this... I hate starter posts, I suck at them. >.<
05-07-2016, 05:00 PM
"we pull apart the darkness while we can" The pair are quiet when they pull free from the tree-line, soft and bright and languid, though the filly is admittedly more gangly than her bright indigo mother when she breaks away and bounds a few strides forward with her tail slapping impatiently against the brown dapples of her haunches. She is soundless when she stops to look around, when she traces unfamiliar faces milling about the clearing. But then she spots the burning tree at the heart of the kingdom and her little head lifts higher still, those impossibly small ears erect against the crown of her delicate head. Her wings disentangle, freeing themselves from the point of her bay withers, and hang wide around her body like a halo of black and blue feather. But as she stares transfixed at the burning pine, the colors on her feathery wings start to morph. The black fades to a charcoal, the blue fades entirely. Red and orange and yellow fill those places, uneven and bright, as though the fire had been trapped within each fibrous feather bristle. Malis watches her for a long moment, equally transfixed by her daughter as her daughter is with the tree. Neither she nor Killdare possessed any wings of their own, but the blue mare did not wonder where Victra’s had come from. Oksana, her own mother, had possessed such wings, strange things that shifted from one kind to the next, often an extension of whatever emotion she was feeling. Malis can remember wondering if that was by choice or reflex, but the longer she spent watching her daughter, the surer she felt that it was the latter. The magic did not tie itself to her emotions, there was no tether she could trace, but it loved them. It fed on the rawness. Without warning- though Malis had been expecting it, Victra leapt forward again with wings like fire wide above her shoulders. In a few bounding steps, strides carried further than they would have been able to without the help of those wings catching air and pushing her along, the filly landed awkwardly beside a blood bay stallion Malis didn’t know. Mistrust erupted from her belly, blistering everything it touched as she quickly closed the distance between them. When she reached them her face was hard and a little wild, and something unnamable flickered like green fire from the bottoms of her eyes. But at this closeness she noticed he reeked of the chamber just as she had once, she could even smell the acrid smoke of the magma king faintly on his skin. It was different than how she smelled of him. She softens slightly, reluctantly, forcing away the ripple of muscle coiling beneath her blue skin. With a sharp intake of breath, she buries her nose against the tufts of her daughters mane and exhales until the pound-pound of her racing heart returns to a quiet thrum. And then, in voice that is neither soft nor hard, with an expression that must be impossible to read for the way she cannot seem to untangle the emotions and thoughts that erupted inside her moments before, she says, “I’m Malis, this is Victra.” But Victra isn’t paying them any attention, nor has she noticed the tension seeping off of her mother. Instead she drifts closer to the tree, to the stallion, those bright green eyes wide and curious when they look to Nymphetamine for explanation. “Why does it burn?” A pause, and her small brow furrows with a strange mix of worry and confusion. “Aren’t you afraid it will spread?” MALIS makai x oksana
05-19-2016, 08:35 AM
(This post was last modified: 05-19-2016, 02:03 PM by Nymphetamine.)
OOC: You get the gift of a work post, which means no HTML But it is words and I am glad that we get to finally word together so hopefully I don't' get interrupted a million times and my computer doesn't randomly shut off, b/c it is a POS.
____________________________________________________________________________________ It seemed he was never alone for long, and this spring day was no different. His idea to go to the tree was really more random than anything else, as he isn't usually sought out by any but Killdare, Petya (his daughter), and if she was feeling gracious--Kimber ( and let's be real, the way his secret love and he were getting on...she would not feel gracious towards him for some time). So the blood bay really didn't have a reason to hold any form of a council at the kingdom's heart. Even with his rank, he was rather unknown by most the inhabitants, sure they might know his scent, or recognize the red gleam of his bay hide, but they didn't know him. Power always was a haughty mistress. Where was this story going? Oh yes, never being alone. The blood bay heard another approach as he stood in the ashy clearing. Another sound joined the first and it was jaunty and light, most likely a foal. In the distance, a blue tint moved in the blackness of the forest proper. Nymphetamines usually steel heart thrummed in his chest, as he knew of only one blue mare in Chamber. But the foal... there was no way... was there? The conjurer counted the time between now and the last time he saw Kimber... and no... she would have shown... right? The blue mare finally was within view (his mind raced so the moment felt like an eternity, the poor lad) and in an exhale of relief, it was not Kimber. But rather, another blue vixen. Ok, maybe not a vixen, though she could have been-- he would soon find out. The foal, in the moments of Nymphetamines distraction, had danced her way over to the flame, and in the process came close to the necromancer, but he did little more that smirk and raise a brow at the little filly. He knew better, and good then as the blue mare had 4 horns that looked like she could do some damage with. The deep blue was not the robin's egg hue of Kimber, no she was a darker sort. There was a moment of panic that lingered in her widened eyes and tense limbs, but it seemed to relax once she took him in. She spoke first, as she made her way completely into the clearing, providing a name for her and the filly. "Pleasure, I am Nymphetamine, I didn't' mean to cause you any worry. Little ones are quite the handful." He looked from Malis to the filly, she was testing the fire, and then with her innocent little voice, spoke her curiosity aloud. The spring air was dry do the moisture moving up further into the atmosphere as the tree burned without ever really charing. The necromancer looked to the tree again, respect for all that the tree offered Chamber, held deep within his dark pools. His voice was deep and reverent, as the magic here ran deep and within him through his own kingdom trait, invisibility. "The tree burns as a sign of the magic here. As long as our tree burns, Chamber will be gifted." He couldn't help but laugh gently at her concern, her innocence was refreshing. "That is the thing with magicVictra, it doesn't do as normal fire does. It will not spread, but it can burn you if you are not true to Chamber." A glance back to Malis was given, as he didn't want to overstep his bounds into lessons the mother didn't wish to teach the lass yet. "She is Killdare's daughter, no? Lord of Magma and all that... can't help but have a distinctive smell." His tone was innocent, but his mind thought back to how angry Killdare had been when the group gathered and chased off Dacia, had Killdare moved on from that interest? Or was Malis a distraction? It should be none of the bay's business or concern. And he would never use the information against Chamber, but he would use it to have some fun with his ol pal. So he waited, a kind look upon him, so that she could get the information he wanted.... once a spy always a spy, or whatever.
05-20-2016, 12:26 PM
Iona, unlike some mares, had quickly gotten used to her home over time. It had been a bit strange the first day, having to go off a lot and explore, figure out her way around the place, but she'd learned it all soon enough. She'd learned where the water sources were, where the best places to get rest among the pine trees were, and even how to avoid any predators that might sneak into the Chamber and come after her.
She did have a nasty brush with a mountain lion when she'd ventured out of the Chamber one day, and had a nice sized cut on her lower leg to prove it, but when she'd headed back to the Chamber to get away from it, the lion had stopped chasing her. It was almost as if it didn't want to be anywhere near the Chamber to begin with. Not that Iona cared. She'd gotten away, and though the wound was still healing, she was fine. She could stand and run on her leg, the wound was not fatal, and she was alive. That alone, she was thankful for. This day, about a day or so after the attack, Iona was spending it doing what she usually did: venturing around the place, searching for places she hadn't been to before. She hadn't found any yet, but when she began walking across the meadow, she spotted the tree. It had been quite a sight the first time she saw it, but now she found it highly interesting. A tree that didn't stop burning... She didn't understand how it worked, but found it interesting nonetheless. As she got closer to the tree, she spotted a couple of horses near it. One she identified as Nymphetamine, the other two, she had no clue. The chocolate flaxen mare cantered up to the group, taking the weight off of her left front leg as she came to a stop once she reached the group. "What are we talking about?" Iona asked, a mischievous smile on her face. |
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