 As they had stood there, side by side, their world had crumbled behind them. The oceans waves grew to monstrous heights right before their eyes. Fear gripped her once again, twisting her insides. Without thought the salty droplets gathered at her sides - much quicker this time - and instantly she knew what for. Effortlessly they formed moldable appendages at her withers and she forced them to her will. Just as the waves came crashing upon the wastelands of Pangea. Swallowing it whole with a single turbulent wave. From her ariel position in the skies she hovered where they had just stood. Dark eyes wide in disbelief as she looked for her company... He was gone.
Swallowed into the sea along with the lands she was certain. A single tear formed and slid down her cheek. There was nothing left of the only home she had known and the only company she had held. She wondered what had become of her brother and if she would ever see him again. Her eyes lifted from what was and scanned the horizon. The vast sea was broken by a mass in the distance. Curious she steadied her wings of ocean sea and moved forwards...
Each stroke was considerably easy. It was if the water knew her intentions and merely did her bidding. Moving her along just above the oceans surface. When one drop strayed and fell another would rise in it's place. Only moments had passed before she came upon the shores of a new land. Very opposite of Pangea. This land flourished with vegetation. It's climate warm and inviting. Ebony dipped ears swiveled as she looked about. Not seeing anyone or anything of immediate concern she motioned to shore. The waves brought her to the sandy beaches as her dark hoof was placed upon it. She sank slightly and with that a sigh of relief. Wings at her side were released upon her command. Quickly they scattered and flowed back into the sea. A slight smile broke upon her features. Her head twisted to look back upon where she had came, her smile soon faded. Would she see anyone she knew ever again?
Turning to the thick canopies before her she stepped forward. The exotic plants dripping with sweat in the tropical heat. It sure didn't feel like spring here... Azazelle
Radar... Feel free to time lapse this as much as you'd like 
05-20-2017, 11:19 AM
(This post was last modified: 05-20-2017, 03:58 PM by Maugrim.)
Maugrim finally understood the extreme power of the ocean. He remembers watching as land melted into the sea, rocks and stone falling into the abyss of dark and angry waters. The ocean of Pangea had swallowed him also, cradling him into its deep abyss with cold, strong fingers. The storm gray girl was no longer beside him, most likely swept up in the strong currents to meet her death. Despite the fact that the patterned colt was sinking lower and lower into the freezing, frenzied ocean, he was strangely calm. He felt himself floating, weightless as the ocean pulls and pushes him with its sheer power. Bubbles trail up from his nostrils and mouth, the salt water stinging his dark eyes as he attempts to see within what would soon become his watery tomb. He welcomes it, ready to breathe in the murky and briny waters to finally become one with the ocean he so dearly craved and worshipped.
He does not remember how he got there, but the next moment that he opened his eyes, he was on a sandy beach with the sun sweltering down on his skin. He can feel the small push of the tide against his back legs and haunches, almost encouraging him to wake. Blinking wildly as he gains his surroundings, he slowly raises his head and curls his legs underneath him, resting his chin on the knee of his right foreleg. The colt instinctively runs his tongue over his dry lips, caked with salt and sand, cracking painfully when the skin stretched with his movement. He tastes blood and he smacks his lips together, staining the pale of his skin with the deep red. Seagulls squawk overhead, his dark green eyelids shrouding his even darker eyes from the brightness of the sun. As he begins to stand, he feels skin ripping on his shoulders and haunches, partially healed wounds from craggy rocks and coral that had tore against him in the sea breaking and spilling blood once again. He winces, ignoring the burgundy that paints his body and drips slowly down his legs.
Maugrim glances over his shoulder, another wound on his neck slashing open with the movement. The area around him was lush and filled with tropical greenery, while the calm and clear waters of the ocean look on behind him. The colt does not know how he survived when Pangea fell into the sea; he can only assume that the ocean had steered him to safety.
The colt’s ears prick at the sound of water falling back to the ocean and with a curious snort, squints his eyes to find the source. Immediately he falters, surprised to see the storm grey filly landing so carefully onto the beautiful, white shoreline. Still adjusting to the brightness of this new and flourishing land (that was so unlike his short time in Pangea), he blinks rapidly as she comes into focus. He wonders how she’s gotten here, seeing as she was standing with him when the ocean surged and swallowed Pangea whole. Unlike him, the ocean obviously had a different way of rescuing her from the disaster.
He snorts amusedly. Perhaps she wasn’t as terrible as he originally thought. However, even with a familiar presence nearby, he hopes that he goes unnoticed by her (and anyone else here on the beach). Without a thought, he turns his eyes away from her and begins to limp towards the treeline in the distance. Blood and sand cake his legs and body, his face twisting as he slowly and carefully moves forward into the stillness of the tropical foliage before him, where he decided he would become a ghost.
m a u g r i m.
kharon He'd been much smaller when Ischia had been invaded and they'd been forced from their home, but he remembered it clearly. So he was immediately uneasy when two new presences came to mind. One was simple enough to greet; a wayward traveler, a curious wanderer. But two, at once, worried him. The invasion was still fresh on his mind, and he sure as hell wouldn't lose his home again. Two could quickly grow to three, and four, and more. The fear gripped him and he hurried.
"Hello," he said to the girl as he came within earshot, his voice tight. Slender as teenagers often were, he stopped a ways before her. The carefree, young man he usually was seemed to be gone and in its place was a sober protector, adorned with a strong medallion around his neck that glinted in the light and an armor of feathers at his sides.
His gray eyes hardened to wary steel as he turned his head and directed his next to the boy. "Where are you going?" Lavender-marbled wings ruffled, unsettled by this encounter and the boy's intention to disappear within their home. Green and white, like Minerva. But the white was almost a shade different, nearly lavender if the light caught it just right. His eyes narrowed. The invaders had been purples and lavenders, too.
"You can't go further," he warned, brows pinched in a hard frown. Should he call for Father? Or Reilly? Not Mother, she was still weak. The damned invasion and then those thoughtless bastards of Pangea made her travel in her state when she should have been resting before the baby. His muscles were taut across his back as he looked between them. They were together and yet were not. It was confusing, but didn't make him feel any more comfortable with them showing up so suddenly.
"Are you here to see someone?" Father hadn't mentioned guests were coming. Nobody had.
Quotes are speech. Italics are telepathy
Without a moments hesitation she was alone, then not. The sudden appearance of another startled her to say the least. Ebony dipped ears twisted back as a greeting was brought to her upon the breeze. His voice said one thing and his body another. The tension he held radiated from him as she was a tad put off. Attempting to settle her racing heart she breathed deeply. He wasn't threatening as Maugrim had been, more weary and cautious. As if she was to be blamed for something. Steele eyes examined him. His light coloring and feathered wings folded at his sides.
His attention quickly diverted to the opposite direction of beach. Again his body tensed as did his tone. His words were directed to another in the distance. Mousy grey neck curved slightly as she strained to see the other. His dark green palette contrasted with the blues and greys beside him. A gentle smile broke upon her lips. He had survived the fall of Pangea just as she had. If the other colt had not stood between them she may have ran to him happily. But not knowing the circumstances surrounding the others tension she stood froze into place.
You can't go farther...
Her head cocked in confusion. Slight concern swallowed her smile as an innocent encounter may have turned hostile. Eyes shifted from her friend in the distance to the other planted between them. Words had escaped her so she waited quietly. Wishing desperately she could disappear into the jungles... Azazelle Will you catch me if I fall?
Though his name wasn’t being said, he knew that the voice was referring to him. The wounded yearling nearly continues limping forward to hide amongst the thick foliage as was his plan, but he knew the trail of blood he left in his wake would give away his position almost immediately. So he halts, a scowl finding his sunburnt and cracked lips (that would be oh so familiar to Azazelle), dark eyes covered by a hooded brow. In his stopping, his partially healed wounds stop ripping and already had the blood begun to dry in the heat. His ears flick backwards into his pale mane, stained with the brown-red of his own blood. It’s so damn hot, he thinks to himself. A tiny sand crab, nearly translucent against the brilliant white of the sand, skitters near him. With a sharp snort, he lifts a foreleg and stomps resolutely. Part of the crab was hidden beneath the dark of his hoof, while the other half scrambles to get away.
Maugrim finally turns to look at the one who gave him orders (it hadn’t even been a suggestion, had it?) and his scowl ripples as a low growl rumbles in his throat. The ocean behind them stirs gently, as if the wind had picked up – but there was no breeze today. Had Maugrim been stronger, the churning of the water would have been more noticeable. The dark green and lavender colt notices the shining medal at the chest of the other, and for a moment let his eyes linger there hungrily.
It’s never occurred to Maugrim that he could perhaps have a family, or siblings. He has no idea that the color of his coat is distinctive and telling of who is parents were. He honestly had no clue that his father being Kirin might be the reason why he was so often given displeased looks by others or that he had spent most of the first year of his life completely isolated and alone. He did not know his family besides his mother, whom he had promised he would return to but never did. Poor Capture. He cannot tell why this stranger watches him with caution, with a haughty gaze and a somber frown, but he has seen the look before and is not surprised. This is why he would much rather hide amongst the shadows of the underbrush than to be out here in the open, trying to explain himself to those who truly do not want to hear an explanation.
He is different in the way he handles himself and he knows it. He also knows it is frowned upon by many.
“So you’re the one in charge, then?” Maugrim asks with a narrowing glare, his voice almost taunting. Are you, little king? The colt wasn’t much older than him and Maugrim feeds off the fact that his very presence is making the other uncomfortable and uncertain. He turns his body now to face them, the ocean gleaming behind both Azazelle and the winged colt. The sight of the water calms him slightly, but he can still feel the stirring of anger in his chest, growing like a storm as their superior stares nourish it. The turn causes more blood to spill from the sharp, wide wounds on his legs and shoulders.
Still no introductions have been made at this point. He asks if they’re here to see someone and Maugrim nearly laughs (but he never laughs). He’s never in search of anyone. He’s glad Azazelle was here so that she can perhaps explain to him what they’re doing here. Maugrim didn’t have the patience. He merely stares at him emotionlessly and thinks not to even answer, to turn around and walk away. What would he do? Maugrim could fight him if needed, the water was right there at his disposal. The thought of holding his lavender head underwater brought an eerie stillness upon him. Maugrim snorts as the sand that had entered his wounds grinds painfully. Not today – he was weak and though he would never admit it, he was tired. Maybe the resident could be of some use…for the moment. “I need freshwater,” he says curtly, his dark eyes flickering to Azazelle with recognition. She would need water too. Not that her wellbeing concerned him, he told himself.
m a u g r i m.
kharon Neither one of them answered his question.
It irritated him further and made him more adamant that they did not belong here if they weren't willing to answer a simple question from someone who does live here. He remained steady and still, though, his eyes pinned on the boy. The girl was silent. In her silence, he learned she was pleased, possibly relieved, to see the other male, and confused at his own response to a band of strangers traipsing in yet again like they owned the place. She was easily dismissed by both males.
The boy didn't seem to like the heat of their island. Nor their wildlife as he crushed one beneath his foot. So why did he bother wishing to stay? And he growled. Like a beast. It reminded Kharon of the bone man and the merciless glint in his eyes before he dispatched someone, always running wild with that temper of his that made him so powerful. It was a shame he had gone missing since the invasion or he would have called for him. Perhaps they'd seen his value and took him for themselves.
This stranger stared at Kharon's chest, eyeing the gift from his father hung about his neck and shoulders, before finally speaking.
"So you're the one in charge, then?" Sarcastic and taunting. Little king. Kharon said nothing in response, though he was tempted to point out that both his fathers ruled this island paradise, as well as his mother. He hoped she would not come looking for him. Instead, for now, he only listened, still glaring at this unwelcome invader.
It seemed the boy was glad this girl was here as well, but not in the way she had been. He was more concerned with her usefulness to speak for him since he couldn't manage to do so on his own. Amusing considering she was struck silent thus far. Azazelle, he'd named her, before imagining Kharon's head beneath the water.
Kharon was already glaring so his face didn't change, but his heartbeat quickened with the threat the boy didn't realize he was sending. He knew what it was like to be trapped under the water, and certainly wasn't impressed with the way this boy thinks. He sure as hell wouldn't be nearly drowning again any time soon, and he was already reaching for Father with his mind.
Father? ..Strangers have come.
He flicked a brief image and explanation of where they were just as the boy spoke again. Fresh water. Kharon gestured with his chin to the South without breaking eye contact. "That way. Across the sandbar and to the land beyond." Out into the world and off their island.
Quotes are speech. Italics are telepathy
Steel eyes fell upon the light indigo and cream colt. Falling upon his jewelry then back to his face in question. He acted as though he knew something they each did not. Maugrim was short, as always making the lavender Pegasus even more uneasy. Quickly she decided to salvage the situation...
Ebony booted limbs brought her forwards. Standing before the colt now, ears flicked forwards, she sweeps her gaze from him to Maugrim as she speaks, "I'm sorry... We do not mean to intrude." Her gaze sweeps back to his face again. "My name's Azazelle. That's my friend. The ocean brought us here," she hoped he understood now they weren't a threat. Her eyes fell to the sands before drifting towards the evergreen and lavender colt. Backdrop of reds and oranges streaked across the skies as darkness began to settle upon the land. She wondered if he'd disappear into the jungle now... Wondered why he had similar colors to this other colt... Azazelle Will you catch me if I fall?
He tries to inhale and exhale steadily, but he cannot control the way his lungs give him shallow and ragged breaths. The buzzing in his chest was growing ever more rampant, becoming a sensation that burns and growls in his belly, like a wildfire spreading. The animosity he felt, though seemingly pointed at this lavender colt, was regular for him; only soothed when he was near the ocean or, unfortunately, when inflicting pain. It was the only way he could calm himself; the only way he could feel peace. This boy with a shining medal of honor around his chest wishes him to leave, not at all being nonchalant when it came to his idea of Maugrim. His repulsion was delicious and sweet, feeding the flame that smolders within the dark green and lavender yearling.
The land beyond… Maugrim snorts amusedly, ears flicking backwards, not at all surprised that his presence isn’t welcome on this unknown island. He doubts that there is no freshwater in the vicinity, and he neither doubts that this colt will force him out back into the ocean if necessary. He is not sure why the ocean washed him up on the bright shores of this isle, but the face of unwelcome was clear as the waters that laps quietly at its shores. He can only imagine how the conversation will turn when the young prince’s parents show up. Lips curl in distaste, ears falling back into his short, cropped mane with anger. Of course, our rage-filled yearling had no idea that the colt opposite him was capable of reading his every thought. Maugrim can’t understand why he was so put off by his presence, wounded and obviously not causing any problems (…yet). Though if Maugrim knew that he could read his thoughts he would understand completely – the innermost thoughts he had were not exactly warm and fuzzy – and would probably agree with his cautious and unwelcoming demeanor.
Poor Azazelle, caught in the middle of it all.
Maugrim’s dark eyes, nearly pupil less, shift to her as she speaks. So sweetly her voice enters the tropical air, so keen on preening the ruffled feathers and calming the situation at hand. Friend, she calls him. He says nothing to her. She can call him whatever she wants, if it made her feel better. Perhaps if she had come to this land by herself, the welcome would have been more gracious and lovely. He wonders if she’s realized yet that he naturally brings an air of foreboding about him.
“See,” Maugrim begins, his ears lifting forward slightly. “It’s all just a misunderstanding. It was merely the tides that have brought us to your doorstep.” His voice sounds lighter but a smile does not grace his dry and cracked lips. Instead the scowl that was once there is replaced with a thin line, jaw muscles pulsing as his teeth clench. Darkness was beginning to loom in the distance and Maugrim’s eyes shift to the colt inquisitively. What will he do? Will he turn away two wounded and lost children from Pangea?
“I’m Maugrim.”
Trust me.
m a u g r i m.
06-09-2017, 02:37 PM
(This post was last modified: 06-09-2017, 04:11 PM by Reilly.)
The Irishman had been lazing about one of Ischia's meadows, grazing and sunning his back. A back permanently pale, but details. Lace was nearby, with her little one, Kali. Precious little thing, she is. So small and delicate. A little gray and lavender flower. Soft and shy. He loves her to pieces, that one. Though he does not wish for the twins to feel left out. He tries to spread attention equally between the three young ones, as well as the new boy Kirby had brought to them to tend. Strong little tyke. Already independent, Badden seemed to prefer solitude over spending much time with the family. Reilly supposes he could understand, for the boy had only recently lost his own family. Accepting another so quickly was perhaps not such an easy task. Today, at least, the creamy red and violet-edged boy remained close. Laying off in some shade not far from Kali and her mother.
He had barely finished lunch, about to go over and interact with the young ones, when his partner emerged from the treeline. The sun bright against the metallic sheen of the man's lavender skin, Kirby's jawline was tight as he approached. Reilly paused at the gleam in those slate eyes. Upon reaching him, the other spoke to him quietly, so as not to let on to the family what he was to say. He told him Kharon was at the southern bank of the island, concerned about strangers on their shores. Reilly frowned. Visitors to the island weren't all that uncommon, and generally were not much cause for concern. However, for Khari to seek help and for Kirby to feel strongly enough to come tell him about it.. Well, it was worth checking into, anyway.
As Kirby turned to leave, Reilly moved to Lacey's side, nuzzling her cheek and letting her know he was going to check on the twins and would be back soon. He then walked over to nuzzle baby Kali and then ruffle Baddie's hair, before he turned south and set off at a brisk pace. Along the way, he mulled over what Kirby had told him. Kharon had to have reached out to the man somehow, telling him what was happening, when Kirby himself had been nowhere around or else could have handled the matter himself. He had thought nothing of it at first, but now, as the broad stallion trotted through the Jungle of their home, he added together the pieces of a puzzle he'd been collecting where the winged lavender boy was concerned. Ah, it makes so much more sense now. How Kali and Khari were so close immediately upon the girl's birth. Why he was always attached to Lacey's side during her pregnancy. Why he sometimes seemed to be staring off into space, 'listening' to things that none of them could hear. Quite the gifted little lad, isn't he? Wings, water-walking, and telepathy. Among the things they know of already. Reilly wonders why he hadn't spoken of it. Least not to anyone except Kirby, and Kali. But it was clear who the boy's father was. Undoubtedly. So, he guesses it's pretty typical. Still, it stings a little. Somewhere deep down. He would have to have a little chat with Kharon, Kylin too. Let them know they could talk to him about anything. He was always here for all of them.
Reaching the southern coast in little time, the red-headed man slowed his pace as he neared the trio of.. children. He was in time to hear first the girl apologizing for intruding. The ocean had brought them. This, he could see, as he looked over the disheveled appearances of both the filly and colt. The colt, whose green and faintly lavender (really, he'd never realized how much lavender there could be. Was this a son of Kerberos too, then? Or perhaps a child of the late invaders. Ah, that could be just the reason for Kharon's discomfort. That, and the boy's less than charming attitude) coat was battered up, blood mingled in with his mane and a lovely welt on a limb. "The ocean is a thing of its own, that's for sure. Like a moody woman. Sometimes calm and easy, and at others, dark and turbulent. Murderous, even." There is a faint twinkle in his blue-green gaze and a slight smirk on his lips as he speaks, his Irish brogue thick in his words as always. The ocean had had her way with them, for sure. "Lucky for the two o'ya to have wound up on a shore and not dead and lost forever out there. The sea does love her treasures."
Turquoise gaze sweeps over all three foals as the stallion came to a stop near Kharon's side, lingering most on the boy who had named himself Maugrim. There is something in his eyes, in the way he holds himself, the forced easing of his voice when he talks. He could see why Kharon was put off by this one. However, the tide was up currently, risen over the land bridge to the mainland. As it would be for sometime. Reilly takes a breath and cuts through the near-visible wall of tension that had been building upon his arrival. "Azazelle and Maugrim, was it? I'm Reilly. This is Kharon. His father and I run this island." No arrogance, his tone remains matter-of-fact. He passes a knowing glance to the boy he considers his own, expecting him not to like what he was about to say, before looking back to the two castaways. He lets his expression show his sincerity as he speaks. "The tide came in likely when the sea deposited you here. It will be a while before you can safely cross back to the mainland. You are tired, injured. Come and rest a bit. There's a creek not far from here where you can drink and wash up. We just ask you to not try to kill everything here as you do so." A pointed look at the crab still squirming beneath Maugrim's hoof, and then he turns to nudge Kharon and move off to the treeline. Amusedly, he thinks how he could give the solemn boy- Maugrim- a 'chill pill' but he will refrain. For now. He is sure to think clearly, then; how sometimes it is important to show humility, even if it is to someone you don't like. Sometimes rudeness and callous came back to bite you hard in the ass.
kharon His jaw tightened as they explained themselves, glaring openly and tensed. The ocean brought them. All just a misunderstanding. The tides brought them.
"Nobody asked how you got here," he pointed out through clenched teeth. They still hadn't answered his question, instead throwing out answers to questions never posed. The two of them had some serious listening issues among everything else stacking against them and he was beyond ready to toss them out on their asses if he had to. And yeah, injured or not, they were getting the hell out of his home and away from his family.
"I'm Maugrim."
Trust me.
He didn't have a chance to answer as his dad showed up, and he spared a smirk to the boy who called him little king. Relief flooded him, feeling instantly supported and safe again with Reilly here. Reilly would never let anything happen to him. He would take care of them. He would send them on their way, and if he had to, he could dose them with his magic and throw them out. He would keep them safe in ways Kharon couldn't though he was desperately trying to. Kharon didn't know how to fight, didn't have a magic to protect their home with. He really didn't have a way to actually kick them out himself, not without help. And now he had it. Reilly would protect them.
Kharon's shoulders relaxed, and he turned a ready smile to him, eyes shining proudly as his dad came to stand at his side.
And then Dad spoke, and Kharon's feeling of security fled like an icy breeze. Or a slap in the face. Come and rest?! Startled, gray eyes reflected the betrayal he felt. "No, Dad. They need to leave," he tried, his voice firm through the hurt pinching so tightly in his chest. The boy wanted to fucking drown him! He didn't want to die again. How could Dad let them in?! How could he INVITE them into their home where his sisters and little brother were? Couldn't he see they didn't belong here? They came like invaders and tried to sneak into their home as if they belonged there. Just like the goddamned invaders!
He fumed silently a few moments, trying to calm down but, fuck, it wasn't working. How could Dad do this?! His heart felt sick. He'd always thought Dad would always be on his side. What the hell was this? What the hell was happening?
There was fury glinting dangerously in his eyes when he glanced at the strangers, then landed on his dad. On Reilly. It was the first time he'd felt this emotion, and it broke his heart that it was directed at his dad. At Reilly. But he swallowed and glared at him anyway as he stepped away from his side, so goddamned hurt. It was like he was a stranger to him now too. What the fuck was this?
"Fine. They're your problem, Reilly," he bit out. Reilly. Not Dad. "They go anywhere near my family and they're dead. They're not welcome to stay." He turned abruptly away and stalked off, stiff and aching in a way no massage could ever relieve. The last thing he did was silently beg for rain to mask the tears.
Quotes are speech. Italics are telepathy
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