"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
03-19-2017, 06:27 PM (This post was last modified: 03-19-2017, 06:51 PM by Bellamae.)
The frame overo mare known as Bella-Mae trotted into the field, halting in the center. She was mostly appealing, young and alone, she seemed pretty vulnerable. But anyone who thought that had another thing coming. Her sleek fur and thick skin was tight against toned muscles. Her head was held high and her ears were high and alert. She had plenty of experience fighting, as projected by the scar tissue interrupting her shiny fur on her chest, withers, and all four legs. She had the personality of fire, and she wouldn't hesitate to fight someone who tested her boundaries. She clearly hadn't won all of her fights, but no one had, and she sometimes took to battles she knew she couldn't win, just for prides sake.
Her dark mocha eyes scanned her surroundings for a second, darting around the verdant landscape. She spent most of her time in the field so she knew it pretty well, but sometimes predators found their way to the quit area, and she didn't want to deal with a bear or even a rouge band of stallions, the scars she had were enough. A cold wind bit at skin causing her to shiver and look at the sinking sun with annoyance. She snorted and spun her tail towards the breeze to keep her face warm. Despite her large head, she wasn't always the smartest horse, and made unintelligent decisions, like saying in the open fields as the wind picked up and the temperature slowly began to drop.
She slowly bent her head to the ground ripping blades of grass from the ground, closing her eyes to enjoy the sunshine for a second. Chewing quickly, realizing how hungry she actually was, and craving more of the sweet grass below her hooves.
03-19-2017, 07:36 PM (This post was last modified: 03-19-2017, 07:40 PM by Wyrm.)
when the stars threw down their spears and water'd heaven with their tears:
The breeze was superb today, blowing gustily from the south to bring heady clouds and rain for the future. Soon enough the gathering flock of cirrus lines would draw together to form mighty, grey cumulus heads that would no doubt drench the world below in an early Spring shower, but for now the day waxed bright, blue, and wonderfully beautiful.
It was really a shame that he’d come all this way to ruin it.
From a passing glance the shape-shifter is just your average condor: dark, wide wings outstretched to ride the currents of air as he circles above the gathered horses like a wraith. Occasionally, the span of his feathers blocks the sun, dotting the landscape below with a pale shadow and hiding him from eyes that seem to linger a bit too long. With a keen eye he singles three from the crowd, dipping a circuit lower into the sky to appraise each one before finally settling on a mare who’s kept herself strategically far enough away to be of interest. With a single flap he rises again, changing his form to that of a bullet-like kestrel before the lull of his wingbeats has him looking earthward again. Like a strange comet he rockets downward, spiraling to enjoy the simple pleasure of being a bird before snapping his appendages open to halt his descent, body bursting and expanding as he shifts to his natural, Equine state before sliding into the ground for a crowd-pleasing halt.
It never got old. He shakes, once, to adjust to gravity and then his bright green head rises, bicolored eyes focusing on his prey before the shade of a malicious grin lifts his mouth. “You’ll do.” he states, tail flicking only once before he lunges at her with mouth agape, teeth hoping to rake over her exposed, innocent face in a bold display of claim. His jaw snaps shut after the motion, muscles straining against his skin as he stands readily beside her, the words, “If you resist, you’ll regret it.” falling heavily on her ears.
He gleefully wishes she would.
did he smile his work to see? did he who made the Lamb make thee?
Bella-Mae looked up at something flying in the sky. A bird? She shrugged it off, lowering her neck to graze again, but her ears quickly flicked her ears around as a swishing sound began growing louder and louder. Her head swung high into the air again just in time to see something landing.
It was only a mere blur before she was flinching, teeth barley tearing the thick flesh on her neck, right under her mane. "I'll do for what?" she retorted, anger rising through her whole body. She could feel the blood pulsing against her veins like rhythmic thunder. Her mocha eyes were narrowed to slits, no trace of fear, yet. "Resisting what," her words were slow, slightly curious, only in an attempt to counter the ominous words that just filled her ears.
She could feel his presence like a bitter smell, it made her want to flinch, to move away from it, but after everything she had been through, cowering now wouldn't keep her fire, and if it did go out, it would be with a bang.
The patterned mare, took a step closer, not dominantly, but with a low head. Bella-Mae then proceeded to rear, muscles rippling as she kept herself up, front legs striking out. she held it for around 6 seconds, before crashing down and attempting to scrape the look-a-like of a horse's skin. The move was only a warning, figuring the beast skillful enough to dodge the slow attack.
Disgust and anger are layered in the air. Like a bitter taste lingering upon the tongue, or a rancid smell filtering through the atmosphere. And what is this here? Oh, it was greed a troublesome feeling, powerful and rather unpredictable but when riddled with confidence it was something she could control. She could snatch away, and replace. And so these emotions lead our Taiga princess to the field, a place of recruitment, and a place of firing tempers.
Her navy nostrils flare, as the emotions overwhelm her, and as a peacekeeper she snatches a few those that were the strongest. That can cause some sort of outbreak of violence, but there are some emotions here, the emotions that led her here are nestled within a verdant fellow, and mare. He's far to confident for his own greed, so she snatches up his emotions leaving him with a blank slate. Her navy lobes pinned as she trudges towards them, what was this guy doing with her? Why was he so greedy?
With her brows furrowed, the mare forces fear upon him. Toiling at the threads of his emotions as if he were a puppet for her own amusement. With a hard hazel gaze she meets the mare's eyes, hr navy tail stirring at her hocks in a rather curious demeanor. "Hello, I'm Heda." She pauses forcing joy onto this mare, before allowing a friendly and faintly amused grin to form upon her lips. A chuckle escapes her lips before she speaks once more. "And he's too fucking scared out of his mind to answer you, now sweetheart." Her gaze hardens. "So, would you care to share a name?" She ends, her hues meeting the stallion once again as she allowed herself to yank at his strings, playing with his fear relentlessly.
Go ahead. Laugh at the girl who loved too easily
Okay, so Heda has empathic projection meaning she can force emotions onto others, snatch emotions away, and play with certain emotions like fear, joy, anger disgust, etc. So pretty much Wrym is currently under the influence of fear that slowly grows in intensity as Heda plays with his fear. Pretty much it'll be like a small fear eventually moving to some so nightmare fear.
03-22-2017, 10:00 AM (This post was last modified: 03-23-2017, 11:13 AM by Wyrm.)
when the stars threw down their spears and water'd heaven with their tears:
Women. All these years of evolution on the earth and still they seem to forget the backlash that comes along when you play with others emotions. The mare he’s singled out is confused (decidedly so, anyone would be) but it’s not for her to understand just yet what Wyrm has in store for her. This place is wild and she had chosen to make it her home - far be it from him to lead her every step of the way. She rears, but he’s faster than her (faster than most) and the aim is well-placed but still falls short. “Now you’ve gone and made me -”
“Angry.” He was going to say ‘Angry’, but instead what he feels is something that he hasn’t felt in a very long time. Silence overcomes him first and then the knowledge that something else is at play here strikes him. The emotion that’s building in his chest is seizing his mind, numbing his senses, drawing him further into himself. And then, the second mare joins them. “Of course.” He thinks, eyes slowly turning to peer at her while she talks to his prey.
“Too fucking scared out of his mind…” She tells the lone girl, but Wyrm is very, very far from talking at this point.
If Heda had been smart instead of a worthless breeding piece of meat, she might have thought twice about pushing this particular emotion on him.
What she doesn’t know (because she is young, and the youth of this world are always incredibly stupid) is that Wyrm has been steeled for this sort of thing since he was a colt. Heartfire had taken his sight when he was a boy, shown him real terror, and taught him to harness it against those who would destroy him. What the navy-tinted girl doesn’t know is that his very trait relies on his ability to remain totally in control of himself, and when that control was sent akilter, it could produce terrible, terrible things. The fear, now rising into a crescendo of true horror, sends his body convulsing - skin flashing bright colors while his appendages seemingly bubble and twist. He locks his eyes upon Heda, knows that the fear comes from her, and then uses it to rationalize.
She was the source of his fear, so Wyrm would do to her what he usually did to everything that caused him to be afraid. He would destroy her.
His mouth flashes open, rows of elongated, needle-like teeth splayed outward as his jaw unhinges and widens. A screech, high-pitched and unbearable, breaks the calm between them as his vocal chords warp. Horns sprout and curve from his skull (one, two, three …) and his hooves split and widen into massive paws that unsheath horrid black claws. He’s an unholy mesh of animals that grows to an unnatural size and seized by a fear that has his eyes rolling into the back of his skull. “DIE!” He screeches, before jerking rapidly across the few feet of distance between them, front paws opened wide with the intent to grip Heda's tender flesh in a bloody hug should he catch her. And if (by some miracle) she can escape his claws, his jaw will be waiting to render her to ribbons. He can’t see straight anymore; can only smell her scent and that of the other mares whose life Heda has now put in extreme danger.
There’s barely even time for the two of them to get to know one another.
did he smile his work to see? did he who made the Lamb make thee?
Wyrm doesn't like feeling things. This is what happens when he does. /shrugs/ should've used "calm" lol.
Bella-Mae's eyes suddenly lit up again, and she turned her head to see a new mare, but the joy faded. She wasn't about to be cocky, the mare seemed to mean well, but there wasn't anyway she would be especially friendly, seeing how she could fight her own battles. "Bella-Mae," she flicked a single ear, before feeling a smoldering heat, and what had once occupied the form of an equine shift into some form of beast. She spun around and cantered a few feet away, before doing an agile twist to face the beast again.
The patterned mare could tell the attack wasn't towards her, and suddenly a feeling of longing filled her mind, she hadn't discovered a power yet, but everyone else seemed so powerful. She still felt a tinge of joy which annoyed her. She wasn't particularly optimistic, and guilt plagued her mind that she could feel happy when she could easily die if the beast was as powerful as it looked.
She threw a few bucks at the air, annoyance causing her to roll her eyes. "If your wish was to ruin my day, then you must have big goals," she quipped sarcastically. Her voice lowered somewhat demonically as she spoke again. "Mares are not my friends." Her tail slapped against her legs, but her body was numb with annoyance and anger. "I know the grass is terrible here, but you didn't have to mess it up." She said, glaring at the mare, everything she said was directed to the mare who had so easily waltzed in to ruin her chance at anything with this beast of an animal.
He was foolish, thinking he could harm a Tagian princess without having her father's ice daggers awaiting to slit his throat. Her father had been, reckless and hasty with decisions lately. he honestly wouldn't be surprised if he declared war due to this pathetic fellow's mistake of attacking her.
So with quick action, as the male races towards her. Heda snatches his emotions once more, leaving him emotionless for the time being. The nares of her nostrils flare, in a rather agitated tone before her words spill, "I wouldn't touch me if I were you." She states, her vocals riddled with an extreme sense of seriousness. "My father isn't the most reasonable man at the moment, one wrong move and he'll slit your throat." She chuckles at the thought. Her hazel gaze flickering for a moment, towards the mare, whom seems to be throwing her problems at Heda like a sad little pity whore.
A roguish grin forms upon her lips, "Oh sweetheart I didn't ruin 'your' day." She pauses, allowing her feathered appendages to expand as she lifted off of the terrain for a moment fluttering over to where the mare had scampered off to like a scared child. "if anything I saved your ass." She adds. Her navy tail whisking at her hocks impatiently. "There are plenty other places, with tons of guys for you to faun over. Speaking of, I come from one of those wonderful places." She states forcing joy upon the mare once more in order to make Tagia feel more enticing.
"Perhaps you would like to visit my home, Tagia? Their plenty of eye candy to go around" She grins, keeping her attention upon this mare's emotions.
"Excuse me?" Bella-Mae threw a quick rear, not aiming any blows, only to express her annoyance. "Did I need to be saved?" she growled, before feeling the annoying emotion of Joy wash over her and knock her train of thought off the rails. "As much as I appreciate the thought, I don't do well with other horses. Mares especially, stallions are all to desperate these days, I'm not in a hurry to be courted like some mindless brood mare," she huffed, although a place to call home did appeal to her, she wasn't ready to go with someone who just called her 'Sweetheart' a particular pet peeve of her's.
The frame overo took a step closer to the manipulating excuse for an equine. "I'd rather not." she whinnied, turning her attention back to the blank face of the beast.
when the stars threw down their spears and water'd heaven with their tears:
It takes Heda only a moment to realize that she’s made a serious mistake. “Good.” Wyrm thinks as the normalcy of nothingness washes over him. He calms, body stilling while his paws still cling to dirt and earth so he can gather his bearings once more. He’s so near to Heda that he can smell the putrid scent of her invading his nostrils, so he blows heavily once to rid his body of the acrid taste it leaves in his mouth. “Your father should be ashamed that a whelp like you was allowed to live.” Wyrm mumbles, two-toned eyes snapping to where she hovers above the earth.
“Your powers won’t ever save you, Heda.” He warns her, head tilting as he memorizes every line of her face, every wrong edge of her gangly body. “And your daddy isn’t here to save you either, so hold your foolish tongue.” He barks, knowing full and well that defeat has come for her. Poor, pitiful little Heda. He’d like to taste that flesh some day, so he tucks her into the back of his mind for later. “Flap and flutter all you like, silly little girl.” He thinks, a wry smile winding over his lips as his original companion denies her harshly.
The world worked differently these days.
It’s only when the spotted red mare turns her attention back to him that he moves again, circling about to stand calmly where she waits for him. “I think we’re finished with you.” He calls out to the bitter clash of blue and gold that had so rudely interrupted them. “Maybe I’ll come and see you soon, finish what I started.” He chuckles, finding her pathetic attempt at bravado humorous, but still rather sad. Heda had done the right thing, saving her own skin and tucking tail, but that mouth of hers was something no princess would ever have, especially in a Beqanna where royalty no longer existed. The age of Kings and Queens was gone, giving rise to the age of those with power. Heda’s stupidity was likely to get her killed anyways, regardless of enticing Wyrm or not.
So the green man flicks his tail idly and shows the Taigan his wonderfully made, granny-smith colored ass before giving his attention back to the paint mare. “Now where were we?” He muses, one ear tilting sideways in contemplation. “Ah, yes. I’m Wyrm, and I must say you’ve chosen wisely. Now - what do they call you? We don’t have much time for chit-chat, so let’s get to the point and then be on our way.”
did he smile his work to see? did he who made the Lamb make thee?
The mare gave the beast a once over with her wide and glassy eyes before answering, "Bella-Mae.' The words seemed joyous because of the current emotion forced upon her, and she quickly cleared her throat. She gave a ghastly glare to the mare, an evil smile blooming across her lips. "It would be a pleasure to rip your frail excuse for a body apart, but I have no interest in wasting my time with you at the moment, maybe when I get bored," she thought, pawing at the ground with her dark hoof.
"Hmm, and what decision of mine was wise?' she asked, curious if he was referring to her decision to hate the sorry excuse for a 'princess', or the decision not to fight him. She wasn't in any hurry, but he seemed to be. "what are your intentions?" she asked, her nose twitching as the breeze blew a foul snow to her nostrils, burning her senses. "You attack me and yo expect me to go with you?" That wasn't usually how it worked. Well, nothing was usually in Beqanna anymore. The joy she was feeling gave her a slight attraction to the 'thing' though, and she resented herself for it.
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