"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
05-04-2018, 05:51 AM (This post was last modified: 05-04-2018, 06:27 AM by Jesper.)
Although he had only spent a few days on the tropical island, Jesper already feels a tinge of sorrow at being here and, not there. Ischia held the comforts of warmth and, family, while Sylva grows colder each day. He did not just notice the change in the temperature or, the length of day but, also the amount of light present. Prior to the clown's claim on the great forest, the canopy did filter out much of the light; however, now, it seemed as though darkness crept out of the shadows themselves. Light could not reach through the blanket of perpetually amber leaves and, the dense fog that choked every square inch.
Aquamarine gaze adjusts to the dimly lit maze ahead of him. Deciding it is best to become reacquainted with Morty's Sylva, muscled haunches engage to push him into motion. Limbs execute a light walk as steed makes his way amongst the tree trunks. Thick crest arches to draw whiskered muzzle into broadening breast as onyx stallion collects himself. Muscular sinew coils beneath sleek pelt, ready like a spring, to release the tension upon his lurking attacker. Salmon domes rapidly filter through the damp, earthy must of the forest in an attempt to warn male of an impending threat. Sensing nothing, attention shifts to the nearby pool of water. He steps towards the edge and, extends his pursed lips without hesitation. Single sip of cool liquid is drawn into mouth and, down throat before poll lifts and cautious glances are cast all around steed. Jesper had every reason to suspect something stood nearby, lurking in the depths behind him. After another unalerting scan, proboscis lowers to take another sip. Lobes move frantically atop cranium in hopes of getting a read on the danger prior to facing it. Between each sip, poll jerks up. Jesper scans the woods though he can not detect where the creepy feeling emanates from.
jesper
carnage x bethanie
devin's∇designs
@[Maugrim]
OOC: Let's get this party started! I think I left this open-ended enough for you =) Let me know if I need to change anything!
They all are, here in the darkness of the forest.
Any that come to his territory, in his domain, are completely and utterly incompetent. He is not here to rule, and he is not here for power or any title. He is here to feed, to wait like the predator he is until an unsuspecting (have we mentioned stupid?) victim comes to take a drink from his lake. All living things must eventually come to water to drink, so that is why Maugrim lies in wait here, before his sinister and still lake. He watches from the blackness of his cave, shrouded by darkness and cold shadow, and the dampness that drips within. He is hungry. (Always). Hungry for the taste of blood, the screaming, the begging, the twitching of synapses firing for the last time.
A man approaches the finisher’s lake, and Maugrim’s heart rate increases immediately. He is always softer with women (a gentler voice, calm and collected in his torture), but men...he ravages them, mauls them, creates them a place so dark that there is nothing left to try to crawl away from. He allows the rage within his chest that flickers idly to begin to grow, feeding the flame with ideas of brutality and blood. The black stallion is unsuspecting, despite his attempts to be as cautious as ever. Maugrim does not present himself with a deep and sinister laugh, nor does he step from the shadows and merely appear. He does not wish to strike fear in such a showy and blatant way - he is cunning and calculated, and every step is rehearsed and practiced since he had been just a colt.
The stranger lowers his head to drink again, and Maugrim is ready for him. The puppeteer draws the murky water around the stallion’s muzzle, slowly growing across his face like a vine would grow along a tree. The water is slow as it moves up his face, and just as the lakewater is to cover his eyes, Maugrim allows himself to step from the shadows of his cavern, his hooves clicking solidly against the stone floor. He says nothing to the stallion as he suddenly quickens the process, allowing his water to creep past his ears and to his neck, nearly to the stallion’s chest.
Then, with a quick press of his chin against his two-toned chest, the water - like an arm - pulls the man into the once calm water.
m a u g r i m.
@[Jesper] As we do this, please let me know if there's anything you want me to change!
Pursed lips draw the cool liquid into buccal cavity in an effort to quench his parched throat. Sure, the cold bit at his pelt and, stiffened his joints. The blasts of winter wind stung his cheeks and, dried his eyes. It also seemed to pull every milliliter of moisture out of the atmosphere, out of the earth and, out of his chassis. This sensation is more foreign to him than the frigidity of the season. He did reside in the Forest for some time and, while Sylva certainly has her differences, winter affects her much the same.
At first, the sensation creeping around his muzzle and, under his chin, mirrors his latest swallow. When the chill crept further up his muzzle, Jesper realizes that his gulp is unrelated. The water behaved as a tentacle, swirling and gathering around his proboscis. Out of confusion, aquamarine gaze frantically flits to the opposite shoreline to verify that only the water around him behaves in this manner. His next thought is panic. Sheer and utter panic sets in. Heart pounds against ribcage and, orbs roll back to reveal the whites. Ebony stag instinctually attempts to jerk his poll up and out; however, to no avail. The water wraps behind his ears and, tugs him down towards its depths. Nostrils flare in terror as he realizes he is stuck here, and then, the liquid rushes up his nasal caverns. Jesper attempts to snort; to blast the invading liquid back out. With the liquid now at the back of his throat, lips part because maw opens to cough. Eyelids shut, to protect icy blue orbs, before they could catch a glimpse of the emerging sage and lilac steed. Still, onyx stallion could not shake the feeling of being watched.
He would bleat for help if not immersed head-first in the water. Alas, it would do no good now. He was helpless. He had never faced a threat such as this. He could have never predicted a force like this one. As the frigid liquid slips down his esophagus and, his trachea, he cannot help but avoid sliding into its dark grasp. In one more attempt to resist, hindlimbs stiffen and, rear hooves dig into the shifting muck for traction. Hock-kisser snaps against the water in defiance. He leans back and, limbs stamp, kick and thrash. No, no! I will not go down this easily! Haunches sink as chassis braces but, the water controls its silty floor, also. He has nothing left and, decides to embrace his end. As he feels consciousness escaping him, Jesper thrusts his eyelids open. He struggles to focus; however, the distinct limbs of an equine other than him stand beneath the surface. It is with this last memory that male succumbs to the darkness and, falls to the mercy of this creature's powers.
He fights, but it is useless. Whether the ebony stallion fought or if had sat there quietly like a lamb to the slaughter, the water would still have him - Maugrim would still claim him. But still he tries, oh he tries, and Maugrim almost feels sorry for him; sorry that he is so weak, sorry that he is so helpless in the presence of the Rivergod. Such is the circle of life, however, and pearlescent nostrils snort emotionlessly as the sickening sound of water swallowing a fully grown equine echoes in the silent woods.
It is now that the beast emerges and truly comes alive. The once festering beneath his irises now boldly burns as he steps out from beneath the shadow of the cavern, carefully and slowly stepping towards the now-churning waters where just beneath the surface, struggle ensues. It wouldn’t be long now - especially with such thrashing - that the stallion would run out of oxygen, where the cells in his muscles would cease to breathe life into his muscles, and he would succumb to the dark abyss that has been created for him. The lake is deep - far deeper than one would care to explore - but Maugrim does not have to use the depths to create his trauma. The stallion floats just beneath safety; the golden light of a dying sun can be seen reflecting off the crinkling and black waters, and though a strong arm of water forcefully holds him in that place, perhaps Jesper can see life staring back at him - so close, yet just out of reach.
Maugrim finds himself knee-deep in the water now. The lake croons and kisses at his two-toned legs, crawling towards its master with soft whispers of surrender. He stares intently into the blackness, watching the shape of his victim writhe terribly, his face expressionless. Just a few seconds more…
(Tick, tock. Tick, tock.)
(Now.)
With a thrust of his chin upwards, the stilling waters now break with the stallion’s soaking body, bringing him to the surface only seconds before his mouth would have given in to the pressure of the deep. Maugrim keeps him in his grasp expertly, allowing Jesper to breathe only because he has deemed it so.
“Your breath will last longer,” the finisher tells him thoughtfully, stepping further into the cold water as it is carved away from his chest with each step, “if you weren’t so afraid.” The water - a living, breathing thing now that Maugrim controls it - pulls him back under again. Thrashing ensues, and the stallion’s dark stare hungrily fixates on it.
05-09-2018, 06:43 AM (This post was last modified: 05-09-2018, 06:44 AM by Jesper.)
The frigid water, which replaces the air in his lungs, stings as it fills his chest. Jesper feels as one does when being choked. He feels the oxygen reserves depleting in his vessels. He feels the light-headed disorientation that precedes unconsciousness. His aquamarine gaze remains open though he is unable to focus on what they see. The edges blur and the colors fade into a film of white. His lobes still funnel in sounds to cranium but, the only sound Jesper hears is the swirling and swishing of the lake's water restricting him to its hold. In a primal effort to preserve oxygen, the onyx steed ceases thrashing and, twisting. The water supports his mass and, once he succumbs, Jesper feels weightless. The murky liquid cradles him and, for once, the onyx stag desires this relief. There is no stiffness in his joints and, no cramps in his muscles. He feels as though he supposes a cloud might: effortless and floating.
Just as he is about to accept this state he finds himself in, Jesper senses the water shift around him. The force above him yields and, all at once, a surge forces stallion to the surface of the lake. A rush of air enters nostrils and, male savors it as his hungry lungs draw it in. His now exposed and soaken wet pelt meets a rush of arctic air and, sends a chill over his side. The sensation hauls steed from his tranquil zone and, hooves flail in an effort to find solid ground. Nape cranes to lift skull; however, his muscules remain frozen. A hoarse whisper becomes audible over his frantic flopping and, advices him to calm down. In a moment of clarity, Jesper wonders if this voice belongs to his torturer or, rescuer. As the water pulls him back under and, the steed finds himself submerged once more, he heeds it. Physique does not attempt to struggle and, instead, stallion craves to return to that peaceful place once again. Onyx stag submits to the pressure of the lake's water and, willingly becomes one with it. When the sensation of floating seeps in with the coursing of the liquid, Jesper closes his eyes. He relaxes and, moves loosely such as a ragdoll would. He keeps his thinker-box free from the rational and intellectual questions and, instead, finds himself enjoying this twisted state of peace.
He watches eagerly as the stranger’s head submerges below the black, bubbles loosely popping at the surface. Maugrim dives with him, the lower half of his body (past his shoulders and onward) becoming invisible as he melts into the water, though his front half remains solid. He wants to watch now and see the fear in the stallion’s eyes as he realizes that there is no escaping the water.
Maugrim’s mane and forelock float around his pale face hauntingly, his ability keeping him floating perfectly at eye level with the black stallion. He watches him expressionlessly, his dark eyes nearly black with the dimness beneath the water. No bubbles float from his nostrils, he is merely silent and steady before his victim, like a barracuda waiting in the shallows.
The waterlord is surprised to find that there is no struggle (not yet) nor fright in the victim’s eyes, which causes the creature to drift closer, eyes narrowing quizzically. There is the tiniest twitch of a smirk that finds his pearlescent lips as he realizes the stallion has taken his advice and calmed himself. A tiny shake of Maugrim’s head indicates the foolishness in the endeavor, before the lower half of his body becomes a spiraling vortex of water, propelling his solid front-half towards the other with a sudden forward motion.
Maugrim’s pale and green chest push into the black stallion’s, the water propelling them further and further through the murky waters. He speeds up the process, soaring beneath the lake with such strength, Maugrim almost didn’t notice that the shallower water was coming up on them. Entranced with Jesper’s lifelessness and the way the darkness of his mane whips around his face, Maugrim almost didn’t notice the rocky shoreline just before his cavern on the land.
The Riverlord’s eyes fasten on the quick approaching shallows, liquefying himself completely so that when he pushed the stallion into the mud and rocks, Maugrim remains unscathed.
Water splashes against solid ground, collecting into the mud and then washing back into the body of black water. It accumulates and stirs as Maugrim gathers himself, slowly materializing first out of merely wavering water, then solidifying. He stands over Jesper, wondering if the man could possibly still be breathing.
m a u g r i m.
@[Jesper]
i kind of feel like this is all over the place so i'm sorry D:
basically he creates a wave and sends jesper through the entirety of the lake, and throws him up on the other side.
Jesper has all but succumbed to his liquid body wrap. The support and comforts of the water around his chassis induce a sense of weightlessness and effortlessness. Jesper completely embraces it. Yet, he is slipping from consciousness and, would no longer be able to feel the peace which ensnares him. The ebony stallion relinquished much of his control over his own skeletal muscles as the beast suggested. If only he could get one glimpse of his maker. Concentration focuses on lifting eyelids to unshield aquamarine gaze. The darkness from behind his eyelids fades though, is replaced by the thick darkness of the water he is in. His vision is limited at best. The hazy film remains despite the physical barrier of his upper lid serving as a wiper over his glossy orbs. Jesper struggles to see through the filters blocking his sight and, just barely, he makes out a pair of dark eyes. Their sheen is different than that of the water around them and, they contrast with a face of lighter hue than his surroundings.
Satisfied with his efforts, Jesper feels the last molecules of oxygen being replaced by the lake's waters. Eyelids fall gently back over orbs and expression falls completely into a tranquil rest. Physique is as fluid as the molecules embracing him and, stallion is unaware of the forces pushing him through the water. Chassis bends and yields to the beast's will though, completely unaware of the churning and pushing forces upon his form. Jesper does not feel the rough abrasion upon his shoulder and, nape as he grits against the shallows of the pool. His pelt does scrape back and, reveals raw scratches on the underside of steed's neck. His other side, now exposed to the freezing temperatures, begins to develop ice crystals upon the tendrils of his mane and, longer hairs of his fur. His right nostril also breaks from beneath the water and, air passively circulates around it. With no active force drawing the oxygen into his chest, lungs no longer possess the fuel to inflate and deflate. Air sacs freeze as a result of the frigid water inside them. He lays, seemingly lifeless here. His heart still contracts, very slowly, to course frozen blood throughout body. Externally, nothing moves: not the vibration of wind across his pelt, nor the twitch of a muscle spasm, nor the rise and fall of his flank with each breath.
jesper
carnage x bethanie
devin's∇designs
@[Maugrim]
Just in case you need a synopsis: He is unconscious. Heart is barely beating but, everything else is water logged or frozen and cannot function.
He stands over him, the lakewater staining his coat a murky brown as it drips down his muscled legs and chest, breathing heavily from exertion. Maugrim threw him away, much like a child’s plaything, onto the dark shoreline, and watched intently as the droplets of water clinging to his coat now freeze over with meeting the cold air. The world is silent around them and the Finisher swears he can hear the crackling of ice forming over the black stallion, and for a moment is too infused in watching it grow across his skin that Maugrim does not realize his own flesh is freezing as well. The two-toned beast snorts; droplets of water expel from pale nostrils in a glittering array of frozen water, lowering his head slightly to get a better look at his destruction.
He can smell blood - metallic and sour - but it is overrun with the dampness of the lakewater that seeps through every pore. Curiously, Maugrim begins to bend the water within Jesper’s lungs and esophagus, pulling the murky liquid from his nostrils and mouth. For a moment, Maugrim wonders if he can bend the blood within the stallion, but that experiment would be for another day. The water pools at the corners of Jespers’ mouth, rancid and unfiltered as it accumulates in the muck.
Maugrim’s body shivers in the damp cold, and the dark clouds above them begin to release tiny flakes of snow throughout the forest. The beast glances up, bottomless eyes scanning the sky for a moment while snow gently lands on his eyelashes and whiskers. Cold and near frozen, the algae and pearl stallion pulls the water from his own skin, bringing it out to float beside him in small droplets that hang there hauntingly in the air. He releases his hold and the sound of the water dropping back into the lake reverberates through the forest. He wrinkles his nose, displeased with the weather, and steps over Jesper onto the pine-needle encrusted forest floor. He is now completely dry, mane and tail freely flowing in the icy wind.
The darkness of the cavern calls to him. He is done with the stallion for now - there is barely a heartbeat, which makes the torture less interesting. The stallion is breathing on his own - barely - and when he comes to, Maugrim would be waiting for him.
m a u g r i m.
@[Jesper]
Felt like this is a good way to wrap it up! He got all the water out of his lungs, and you can either say he's left on the shoreline to freeze, or wakes up and moves to the cave to recover. Up to you! <3
While Jesper cannot appreciate the way the Lake beast manipulates the water around him, on him but, especially, within him, the black's body responds positively. The arctic air enters respiratory tree, passively and, attempts to diffuse through the mucus barrier currently protecting alveoli. Desperate vessels carry what can permeate the secretion back to cardiac muscle. And, ever so slowly, Jesper's heart grows stronger.
Each contraction from sinew pulses with more force and, carries more fuel to oxygen-deprived cells. Lungs receive the first waves of crimson: to warm them, fuel them and, entice them to bring in more oxygen. Sore air sacs stretch, at last, to draw in an active breath. Nostrils flutter as the chilly air fills nasal caverns and rushes into thorax. As diaphragm contracts, flanks constrict before muscle relaxes and, carbon dioxide expels from nostrils. Several slow breaths are taken before more cells are revived. Lower limbs remain frozen stiff; all sensation blocked by the frost covering extremities. However, blood flow begins to deliver warmth as well as, oxygen to tissues of torso. The pelt covering Jesper's shoulder detects the biting cold first and, slowly, the icy layer can be felt upon nape, barrel and, haunches. A shudder runs down spine before lobes twitch.
That shudder seems to stir consciousness within the onyx stallion, All at once, auditory sense picks up the gentle lapping of the shallow waters against his body and, the shore. Long-lashed lids snap open and reveal dry, bloodshot scleras. Jesper thrashes as he rolls himself onto his underside. Another lash of bitter cold liquid stings the inside of his thighs and, male attempts to heave himself to his hooves. He finds that his limbs do not unfold. They do not respond to his request to support his weight. He tries a second time with the same result. His torso lifts off of the ground for a second and then, flops back into the muck.
Jesper decides to give up on this idea and, instead, reverts to pushing and pulling himself through the slop. His fetlocks do not bend so, his rear hooves gain no traction. However, his stifle flexes and so, weight shifts from his thigh forwards to his elbows. At first, each time he bears his weight on this joint, a jolt of pain shoots up shoulder. He winces but, urges himself to continue digging into the soft grit and, pushing himself towards the drier cave before him. His exertion does not get him much closer but, it does increase his blood pressure and, force the oxygenated rivulets to reach the frozen portions of his extremities. Although not thawed enough to bear his weight, he can lift them and, slap them down into the muck as he drags himself. Now, much like army crawling through an obstacle course, the onyx steed drags himself into the cave. Once enveloped in the peace of its complete darkness and, sprawled across the mostly dry silt, male succumbs to a deep slumber.
He cannot be sure how long he slept in that cave; how many days passed him by or, how many days remained of his captivity. As he emerges from his near-coma, Jesper first picks up on the chatter of birds. Their songs are loud enough to drown out the gently lapping waves at the mouth of the cave. Birds could only mean one thing: that the weather had warmed to their liking. It had to be spring. And, spring meant he had surpassed the halfway point.
Sigh escapes flared nostrils before muzzle draws in, towards breasts, in a stretch that rids the stiffness from each vertebrae and, muscle fibers. Jesper continues to loosen his chassis by stretching front limbs away from his body. Cranium lifts to hollow out top line and stretch the muscles away long spine. With a satisfied sigh, patellas extend to draw front hooves and cannon bones closer to torso. Weight shifts from haunches onto front pillars to haul Jesper to all fours. Limbs shake weakly from disuse; however, male remains upright. He takes a small step forwards and then, has to regain his balance once more. He repeats this process a few more times until he feels steady on his feet. He takes a single, deep inhale before onyx stallion emerges from the cave. He hugs the shoreline and takes the shortest path through the Sylvan undergrowth to get back on firm, dry ground. Once there, Jesper puts a much distance between him and, the lake as he could before the pains of hunger directed him towards nourishment.
jesper
carnage x bethanie
devin's∇designs
I think that is a wrap. Thank you so much, Radar for the truly invigorating words and, for making me use my knowledge of anatomy in conjunction with my creativity. Awesome thread and, I am so thrilled with all of the character development we made for Jesper. <3
Jesper
