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Post by ThatDenver on Jan 14, 2021 7:47:56 GMT -6
 Please keep the following in mind!- Posts must be a minimum of 175 words. There is no maximum – however, please be considerate to your fellow players. Posts of 500 words or less are recommended (but not enforced) - No strict order is enforced, but there must be at least two posts between your own character's. - No god-moding or reading characters' minds (unless your pony is a literal telepath, anyway) - Always get consent before harming another character! - Have fun! Even if your pony isn't. 8'D Rewards: 5AP, 5CS if a minimum of 2 posts is reached. +1AP for each additional post. Admin will confirm rewards at the end of the event. Deadline: 29th of January 2021
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Post by kajeayn on Jan 14, 2021 7:50:16 GMT -6
R O S A L B A
post 1 | wc 495
She has never set foot in this pub before, finding it a little too ordinary. Good, certainly, but she goes out rarely enough these days that she is careful in her choices.
She is careful in her choices here, too, sitting down near the back, giving herself a good view of who enters with a wall behind her. If this place often sees nobility and royals, then it will have a back exit, and she chose this seating for that as well.
A dark cloak covers her head, a veil hanging from her bridle and obscuring much of her visible face. But fastened near her neck is a delicate, pink rose brooch- not an exact replica of the Cardea symbol, but very close.
Things are rapidly beginning to reach a head. She’s exhausted, worn thin by the political maneuvering and paperwork involved with the bureaucratic nightmare that was returning the slaves to Serora. She has gone down to the Dark District and beheld the empty stalls for herself. After the labor seize, she has gotten into the habit of personally observing any business going down in the Dark District to ensure it was done properly.
Exhausting and irritating, especially when their King had his heels dug into the mud about the whole business, for the few times she managed to actually get any response from him.
Just as well, really. She could hardly breathe the air that man did. It felt as if he soured the atmosphere just by existing, that she breathed his breath and it settled like poison in her lungs. Even now, she felt like it coated her throat and tongue like iron, and she took another long pull of wine to try and drown the thoughts themselves away.
As much as she would like to be here purely to drink her frustrations away, she much preferred to do that at home. Here she would only allow herself the occasional glass of wine, and even allowed her companions to drink- though with the occasional sharp look that reminded them they were, in fact, on duty, even if appearances must be kept.
They wore their bitted bridles, of course, but lips were looser around others who were drinking, slave or not. And for what it did for morale, she could afford a little spoiling of her slaves.
She was here for what the Goldhead offered- safety. At least, to those of a similar mind of her. It was becoming a sort of watering hole, where they might all lower their guard for a while, speak freely.
Speaking freely meant information would be shared, and she would listen to see if it was all flowing as it should, or if she must correct it, ensure all the right words were in all the right ears.
For now, it was just a matter of time, listening to the idle chattering in the bar and the distant drum of rain pattering on the roof like hooves.
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Post by buffyandbramble on Jan 14, 2021 14:36:56 GMT -6
Aodh was in enough of a mess politically without him having to rely on second-hand information about what the populace was up to. In different circumstances Lux might have found the variety of rumours going about a fascination, an odd social phenomenon he could study. Part of him still did, but mostly he found it frustrating. A lot of his time had been eaten up with the recent Serora business, and he still marvelled at the sheer about of nothing that could be achieved in politics - the novelty had most definitely worn off. There was a tense undercurrent to everything these days as well, as if politics weren't tangled enough. Now, there were rumours flying everywhere and the people were slowly whipping themselves up into a state, which was going to come to a head sooner or later. He could only imagine the bureaucratic fallout that was headed their way when it finally came about. Most of it could probably be dispelled with a little critical thought but, well, that hardly made good gossip now did it? He'd debated with himself about heading down to the pub he had heard a lot of lately, wondering if whatever he might hear was worth the effort of masking his identity. Recognition was likely going to be more hassle than it was worth, especially given everything that was going on. An adviser, mingling amongst the commoners, haunting a place of gossip and hearsay? He'd never hear the end of it and from multiple fronts. Something was clearly going on, machinations of some level afoot, but until he had no intention of picking any sides until he knew more, and even then he was in little hurry to declare any allegiance. If he even settled on one. Something like this was likely to colour his name one way or another. Still, curiosity won out in the end, as did the choice to wear a mask. He didn't usually care for limited vision but in this instance he would sacrifice that for the anonymity it helped enforce. Paired with a cloak, and his naturally plain coat he was confident enough that he was unlikely to be recognised and from what he understood, such looks weren't too uncommon in the Goldhead Pub. Hopefully that meant it wouldn't stay anyone's words either. He settled himself down near the bar with a drink, albeit a non-alcoholic one. Lux didn't drink, and he didn't intend to start now, but it was likely to look odd a horse at a bar with nothing to drink. He struck up an idle conversation here and there, as he watched the general milling about, and listened. WC: 443 Post #1 Note: Lux is masked and cloaked. [Rough design here] |
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Post by Kelpie-River on Jan 14, 2021 16:02:30 GMT -6
Misti || Palasa Flamen || Post One
The appaloosa's heart was beating fast in her chest as she tiptoed closer and closer to the pub. Despite the fact that she'd covered her distinctive spotty butt with a heavy, brocade cloak - and her face with a leather mask carved out to be shaped like a hawk's visage, she was rather worried that someone, somehow would recognize her. It was completely unbecoming for a Flamen, even one of the common people, to be heading to this locale in Misti's opinion, and the appaloosa mare was terrified of being caught eavesdropping. What would it mean if a religious leader was showing signs of doubting the herd's leader? It was a bad look all around. Already, the Flamen had washed off the ash and candle wax that marked her as a leader of the Sanctum, and with the cloak and mask, she was rather unassuming.
Horses that Misti didn't recognize milled about. Not that it was common for Misti to be here, making friends with the locals. She was usually pretty happy to be in the Sanctum, letting others come to her. But curiosity had gotten too much of the chestnut mare, and now here she was, cloak and dagger along with the others. Faces obscured with cloaks and masks much like her own filled the room, and Misti wondered just what rumors were being spread about. She'd heard...interesting things from those coming to pray at Palasa that day, and now with the sun gone down, and the rain drumming outside, an ominous air took over.
Misti made her way to the bar, ordered something mildly fruity - a wine that wouldn't dull her edge too much - and settled down. Rumors washed over the mare's ears, and she tried to block them out. Stupid, really, to come here and worry about not hearing what was going on. Glancing around, Misti searched for someone, anyone, she could use as a lifeline. There was no one. What was true, and what nothing more than glistening threads of fiction? Had what Misti had heard that day - rumors of a new Wyvern, rumors that King Isador was downright a murderer have any kernel of truth? It was so hard to tell!
WC: 368
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Post by floatyy on Jan 14, 2021 18:11:20 GMT -6
Sunny hadn't been to many pubs, and despite being a social butterfly, she had never been one to go into them. She was more of a coffee and tea kind of gal, really. But despite all that, The Goldhead drew her in. The commoner and her furia companion Andromeda had been in New Valore to study the stars, and she had seen the pub as a place to speak with others, meet new acquaintances. As she entered, thanking the bouncer politely, the mare removed her hat. It had protected her bicolored mane from the rain for the most part, but some of it had still gotten soaked. That didn't bother her much, though, not when the atmosphere was so off putting the moment her hooves touched the pub's floor.
The seal bay mare turned her white face towards a group of horses who seemed to be murmuring to each other, and rumors hit her like a strike of lightning. The king? A murderer? A new wyvern? Surely not! Such talk would be severely punished, she was certain, so she made her way to a place she could settle down, Andromeda sitting guard next to her, and proceeded to listen in. Nothing wrong with a little eavesdropping, because of course, rumors spread quickly. What unsettled her was the talk of Kirins potentially planning an attack. How would she defend herself against an attack? She shook herself. It made her anxious, and kept her from approaching anybody to start conversations. She knew she could escape by using her blessing if need be, but conflict scared the usually bubbly mare into freezing. How could she have been so out of the loop that these whispers hadn't reached her ears until just now?
Well. She had always kept her eyes on the stars, or down in a book. Not often keeping her ears open to others around her when she was so focused on learning. She heaved a heavy sigh, comforted by Andromeda's warmth at the very least as she quelled her worries and sat a bit more comfortably.
WC: 345
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Post by misttheelf on Jan 14, 2021 19:18:33 GMT -6
Caron "Now the Fire and Wind guide me to Freedom."
Post 1 | WC 332 It was raining. An annoyance more so than an inconvenience - Caron’s cloak protected them from the worst of it, even as it stretched over their recently gained antlers. They had left Chiya in one of the few shelters they had access to - the phoenix makes them far more recognizable than without her. And for tonight, Caron wished to remain unknown - though they wondered how long it would last. At least, they no longer would be recognized as a slave. Perhaps that was their primary motivation, for slipping into the Goldhead pub that evening, aside from listening to the conversation about recent rumours - Far better, in their opinion, to hear the rumours for themselves, than to hear what’s relayed - Sometimes information is lost, after all. Perhaps, they’d hear from those who normally don’t step down to such a common place?
The hood of their cloak barely cast their face into shadow, as the bouncer let them pass.
Over to the bar the dark kirin with a dark cloak walked, simply getting a glass of water, before taking a seat towards the back, their ice-blue eyes watching, as they listened, and waited.
...They waited, because they knew that their presence as a kirin would draw attention.
And they waited for someone to speak to them, for they had words to share - of those who had been present at a meeting some months ago, and relayed to them, back when still they had been a slave.
Back then, they had been the one to state that tongues should be held. But now? ...No longer were they a slave with no-where to go. They were a smuggler, resident of New Valore’s criminal world.
Others would soon know of a secret meeting Isador once had. And his involvement in King Amadeus’ murder. They had not been at the meeting - But they had been told, by three others who had. And so they waited until an interested ear leaned their way, as they sipped the water they held. |
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Post by kerarose on Jan 14, 2021 19:51:25 GMT -6
E L I I N A
POST 1 | WC: 366
House Xoias was in an uproar. Alton, the past Head of House Xoias, was dead, from causes that seemed peculiar. Eliina had been called back to help handle to proceedings, her image as an Envoy- the first in generations of Xoians- needed to present a united front as the House moved forward.
She found herself at home once more, in New Valore, living in the rooms in Starlight Hall that had been graciously given to her by Alton's son, Matias, upon her appointment to Envoy. It was only for a short time- she would return to War Forged in another week- but she was not blind to the rumors circulating in the city.
Somehow she had found herself wrapped in cloak and mask, standing before the Goldhead Pub, watching others walk into the building. Steeling her nerves, she met the bouncer, raised her mask just enough to let her face be seen, and walked inside.
Her acting had never been the greatest, but all of her time spent in Skeldr Town was beginning to wear off on her. She relaxed her gait, lowered her head, and pitched her voice low, hoping to come across as a gruff commoner, out for a night of drinking.
Her leather mask was of good make- not flashy, but not trashy, either. The hide hugged her face, forming the face of a Furia, the grinning skull's teeth made of dark leather and metal casting shadows across her jaw in the tavern's dim lighting.
She ordered a mug of ale and sniffed it- not the quality that House Xoias would serve, as she expected. She may be noble, but in order to get information for House Xoias on how to best proceed, she could drink some cheap swill for a night.
The unicorn wandered towards the back, aiming to listen in on conversation as she passed- but her eyes caught a small rose pin. It wasn't exact- but it was close. House Cardea, perhaps?
With a swift change in direction, she smiled at the kirin and her rose pin. Her voice incredibly soft, she moved closer and spoke. "Evening- Cardea, I presume?" |
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Post by houndflash on Jan 14, 2021 20:03:53 GMT -6
Tate|Aodh|Smuggler
The night was young and rainy as the unicorn trotted though the streets, his companion slightly behind as Tate lead Shay to the Goldhead for a bit of a relaxing night. The smuggler and his family liked to frequent bars to get local news, learn who had disgruntled slaves, and even pass along information to other smugglers, though he hadn’t been to this one in quite some time. It was a little too risky to attempt to pass off some smuggler information as of now, though the back door of the pub was still an easy comfort. Especially after the librarian’s recent strange meeting a month ago.
Tate passed the bouncer and nodded in greeting before settling down at a table and listening to the local rumors as they circulated around the bar. Though the local rumors seemed to be more elated than normal. Rumors of King Isdaor being a murderer and orchestrating the death of King Amadeus. Rumors of the deliberate slowness of the release of slaves and the true outlook of the refugee camps. Rumors of more wyverns than just the King’s. All of which were particularly unsettling, none of which Tate felt too comfortable speaking loudly about. But there’s more good in listening and trying to figure fact from fiction. Tate took a sip of his wine before basically settling in to a bit of small talk with his young coworker.
Post #1 Word Count 240 |
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savorda
Dwarf Star
avatar by posy-punch
Posts: 61
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Post by savorda on Jan 14, 2021 20:28:41 GMT -6
| O B E R Y N A D V I S E R D O N O T B E S O R R Y B E B E T T E R |
More rain.
Oberyn was growing awfully tired of the rain. It’s rhythmic pattering soothed him, but he simply preferred it if it didn’t rain while he was out. He didn’t particularly enjoy returning home smelling of wet dog. His cloak did well enough keeping the wind and rain off of him, but the shelter of Goldhead was a welcome respite. He kept his head low as he wandered through the pub. There really wasn’t much use trying to conceal his identity more than the hood of his cloak did, lest he decided to file down his horn to nothing but a stump. No, best he can do is keep his head low and try to attract as little attention as possible.
Oberyn could practically taste the tension in the air. They were all on edge as of late. Anyone who was not surely had to be living with their head buried in the sand. In years past he would have drowned out all the whispers with work. Now, well, this was his work. He played nice during the day, swallowing his opinions. He gave himself frequent headaches working through the seemingly endless stack of paperwork, only to be greeted with a fresh stack in the morning. Perhaps he needed new reading glasses. He would happily do without the headaches at least. Come nightfall, Oberyn often found himself tucked away in the back of Goldhead, listening. Staying update with the current rumor mill gave Oberyn an odd sense of comfort. He loathed being blindsided by information he could have easily gathered himself. So where the rumors went, he followed.
Tonight, however, he found someone else sitting in his usual spot. He would have simply moved on and found a different seat entirely, had he not caught sight of the rose brooch. He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised.
“I hope you don’t mind me joining you.” he said, taking it upon himself to sit besides Rosalba. Such a familiar face brought him more comfort than he was willing to admit. He had hoped to have a word with her, if just for a moment, but another masked figure joined them before he could speak. The voice seemed familiar, if only just.
“Ah, Envoy Eliina. I was not aware you had returned to Aodh.” he said, expression tight.
387 words | post 1 |
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Post by Silverfallingstar on Jan 14, 2021 20:40:22 GMT -6
Shay|Commoner|Aodh
Shay was not normally one to frequent bars or pubs. They were almost always too rowdy for him. But with the rain and the dark and everything going on, he didn't feel like returning home to the villa yet, so when Tate asked if he wanted to go out for a bit, he accepted.
The thick dark red cloak clung to his body and rain dripped off the lip of the hood as they walked through the streets and arrived at the pub. He cast an awkward glance at the bouncer, but didn't linger in the doorway and followed Tate inside. He ordered some soup with some bread for dipping and joined Tate at the table. Hot pink teke hovered around the edge of the hood to pull it down and let his mane breathe but he stopped as he heard the murmured voices and how most people in here were hiding their faces. Familiar rumors he'd heard whispered among the family slaves and in the street, Solaris murdered by Isador, Isador having a hoof in the massacre that took two of his cousins. He let the teke fade from the hood of the cloak and sat down with an air of resignation about him as he thanked the server for bringing over the soup. He didn't want any possible recognition as a bastard son of Lilith and get questions about the rumors. More than anything he wanted them to go away, to not be true. But the more he heard them, the more they burrowed their way into his heart and took root there as some form of truth. Tate could probably see his young co-workers snout wrinkle in annoyance under the hood of the cloak as he picked up the spoon and shoveled a few spoonfuls into his mouth.
The rumors of kirin attacks brought his mind back to that fateful day he'd been whisked away with other horses into the depths of the Kirin's stronghold. When Ignacio had convinced them that maybe they weren't so different after all, and could learn from each other. That trip back had felt like something out of a storybook, two sides coming together. He wondered how they were doing, if they were working to try and convince their bretherin that what they were doing would only lead to ruin. His face relaxed though his ears flattened and he sighed as yet another equine's voice about the rumors regarding the crown reached his ears.
"I hope something happens soon. Make these rumors go away."
He mumbled his words, a certain level of bitterness clinging to them as he talked to Tate.
"At least the weather fits the mood."
Post 1|WC: 446
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Post by floatyy on Jan 14, 2021 21:17:28 GMT -6
Sunny watched quietly as more horses entered, and she had the vague feeling of claustrophobia closing in on her. But she pushed aside the stress once more, figuring that she might as well mingle. She wasn't one to turn down an opportunity to learn, nor an opportunity to make friends. Although the latter seemed unlikely, it never hurt to try. So as she stood, her long legs aching from how she had been sitting, her pale yellow eyes gazed around the pub. "Come on, girl." She murmured to herself, eyes catching on a pair of cloaked horses sitting at a table. She looked around once more, seeing three others near the back. Anxiety swelled in her chest and she stepped back. Andromeda bumped her side with her head, letting out an exasperated huff. Sunny looked down at her, nodded, and promptly walked the other direction, towards the bar. Andromeda followed, looking awfully irritated despite the impassive look on her skull.
As if she was going to drink. Hah. No, instead she politely ordered a water, and found herself sitting by a somewhat ominous character, who may have been a kirin. She tried to not seem too unsettled by this, instead turning and offering them a polite greeting. "Lovely evening. It's too bad the clouds are covering the stars tonight." She hummed, genuinely disappointed by this fact. She shuffled her hooves nervously, but smiled nonetheless. She tried to forget about the worrisome rumors circulating the room, but it wasn't working. Oh to be home with a cup of tea and a book. She sighed.
WC: 263 | Post 2
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Post by kajeayn on Jan 15, 2021 5:35:19 GMT -6
= M O I R A =
The fire finds a home in me.
WC: 419 | Post 1
It always seems to be raining, on nights like these.
It’s fitting, but discomforting all the same. It makes her feel like the clouds are a barrier between her and Ignacio, like He can’t see what is going on below.
She’d spent the whole day in meditation and prayer, shut in the Sun Room. She’d asked to not be disturbed, and her attendants and patrons had kindly respected her request. It was a rare one, and she had more than a few people ask if everything was all right when she was out and about Azar again. She had told them it was, that she merely needed some focus and clarity of mind, and left it at that.
Here, in the rain, she feels no clearer, no calmer. But her mind is made up, and that is enough. Ignacio would guide her through the rest.
At least she was not alone in this storm, though she did regret that Anna would likely wind up soaked to the bone as well. A waxed cloak kept most of the water at bay, but her braided back fetlocks were still sodden, clinging to her legs. The silent guardian at Anna's heels bore the rain in silence, water running over their mask.
She wore no mask, and the cloak was mostly to keep the rain at bay, not unwelcome eyes. She knew her destination, and she had already chosen her path- she would not hide.
The Flamen of Azar wanted to be seen.
She had told Kaspar to be a beacon, and she refused to not follow her own example, standing tall outside the entryway, wishing briefly for the candles she had begun to wear like armor, the ash like warpaint. Rain had a funny way of washing away her defenses, and it left her feeling uneasy as she made it to Goldhead’s front entrance. She glanced curiously once more to the silent shadow Anna had brought with her, standing quietly near her, ears pricked and apparently listening. She could hear nothing but the rain, and the muffled murmur of voices inside.
“Are you ready to go in, little bird?” She asked gently. One last chance to turn away. Though Moira’s heart was certain on its path, she didn’t wish to drag Anna down with her- she almost wished Anna would turn around, take to the skies, never return to this place. Take her bodyguard with her, be safe.
Her eyes were sad, but kind, already knowing the answer- Anna would not leave.
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Post by kajeayn on Jan 15, 2021 5:39:14 GMT -6
J E S S I A H
post 1 | wc 572
Escorting by now had become their life- it felt odd to move anywhere alone by now, if not escorting then at least with their master. But Aleksei trusted them, and that was as baffling as it was touching- and being asked (not ordered, asked) to escort someone as esteemed as a Flamen was an honor.
That it was Anna was another, secret sort of honor, one they did not wear openly but kept close to their heart.
They’d been surprised to find Azar’s Flamen, Moira, waiting outside Oralee when they arrived, but there had been nothing but gentle curiosity in her mind when she’d looked at them. She’d introduced herself and Jessiah had nodded awkwardly, unwilling to explain their telepathy just yet. It was hard for strangers, when someone unknown began speaking into their mind, and they could only reveal it once. This would be their only chance to listen to Moira’s thoughts without revealing themselves. They doubted she had anything to hide, but it made them feel a little safer, somehow, exchanging occasional signs with Moira until Anna came to walk with them to the Goldhead.
If not for their charge (now two charges, really) they would have shifted forms, come to listen to the rumors at Goldhead tonight alone. But they were still capable of listening at Anna’s side, though now their focus was also on ensuring both Flamines remained safe.
Whatever happened tonight, they had to ensure that much.
Though conversation had been a little strained, Jessiah able to hear the nervous edge Euonia’s thoughts had taken on, they had had a mostly pleasant walk to the pub. Despite the rain, at least, but Jessiah had long since found they liked the rain, free of Ignacio’s eye, and their time in the Dark District had made them grateful for the feeling of it on their coat.
What little of it the rain hit, at least- most of their features were obscured. A cloak they rarely wore covered them, and a mask had been slipped over their face. With their hood up, the dim light couldn’t quite reach it, and hid the mask’s features.
Even under the cloak, their features had changed. Their coat was an unassuming shade of dark gray, unmarked and unremarkable, blending into the misty rain that fell. Their mane and tail lengthened out and darkened to black, their scars fading into nothing as their form shrank a few hands in height.
That was their least favorite shifting- though they felt less noticeable, they also felt more exposed, uncomfortable in a body that felt wrong.
But eyes would slide over them easier, and that was enough.
They only needed to be the shadow at Anna’s heels, and they were. They kept their ears pricked, listening for any hint of a thought of trouble, but also occasionally, gently, speaking with Anna on the way here.
A soothing brush of words against her frayed mind, a soft murmur of thought, like brushes of a feather. Telepathy had endless uses, but one they were grateful for was the new ability to reach out and simply speak a word or two of comfort.
When Moira paused outside to allow the bouncer to look at their faces, Jessiah listened to the thoughts flickering there. Moira’s resigned pain, offering Anna a question she knew the answer to.
In the light that poured through the windows into the rain, Jessiah’s lion mask gleamed gold.
OOC: Please note that Jessiah has maxed telepathy as well as shapeshifting! So they are literally capable of reading minds~ |
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Post by Luneby on Jan 15, 2021 8:36:10 GMT -6
 E U O N I A"Renunciation, total and sweet."
The last month had been nothing but a feverish haze. Whispers and backhanded threats had burnt her to the bone, and she spent her days trapped within poisonous walls. The lies she weaved in the face of adversity felt like wax in her mouth. She was tired of wielding a double-edged sword, tired of feeling powerless against the reign of fear she was witnessing, and a part of herself. Yet somehow, she was more determined than ever. Some of the perpetual softness in her eyes left for flames burning cold. Under the cotton cloak that did a poor job at protecting her from the rain, she wore an incandescent steel neckguard – a family heirloom recently bestowed upon her by her older siblings, as a sign of recognition. A piece of armor that she wore proudly – that reminded her of her own power, and of the power of those supporting her. The mare was thankful that she was not alone in this. She would not have been much of a revolutionary, had she been on her own. She had so much faith in the people who shared her fight – and placed so much hope in the one who had brought it about in the first place. Most of all, she wanted the truth restored, and change to be brought about, redemption for the herd and the God she loved. These were causes worthy of all her resources – including her life. She admired Moira’s bravery – she was her greatest role model, the person she strived to resemble the most. While Euonia had no intent to be reckless, she would not hide tonight – simply be the truer version of herself that she had always been before becoming a Flamen. She met with Moira and Jessiah in a strange state of serenity, rooted in raw determination. She had been scared for long enough. Her eyes could not help but soften at the sight of her two dearly beloved friends. She knew she would be fine, so long as they stuck by her side. Even transformed and masked, there was something subtle yet unmistakable about Jessiah that would always allow her to recognize them. Maybe it was the quiet courage burning through their silence. Maybe it was the unexplainable gentleness to them, even when life was wearing them thin. A few words formed in her mind, that she knew they could read, In Jessiah’s attention. “I like your mask. I’m happy you’re here.”
Seeing the two people who made her feel the safest together made her feel brave, too. She would not let herself be a burden to either of them. The road to the pub was cold and quiet. She didn’t pay much mind to the water soaking through her skin, vaguely protecting herself with her large wings. Her mind was focused on what was to come. She knew Moira’s gentle question was the point of no return. She also knew that she was certainly not leaving her side now. Euonia drew closer to the black mare, gently pressing her forehead against hers. “Ready when you are.”
She left her hesitations at the Goldhead’s threshold, glittering teke removing the hood covering her face as she found her way in.
***
WC: 535| Post # 1
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Post by Zugunruhes on Jan 15, 2021 10:06:40 GMT -6
Near the head of Cardea another equine lingered, his long tail and bright fins swallowed under a dark cloak. His hood stumbled over the long ears and billowed around his face, obscuring all but the gleam of the bitted bridle. His eyes wandered the room with structured routine. If Chevaliers were sighted near the Goldhead, or a stranger with ears only for the Crown was outed, he was to prize his master's safety.
By instinct he always took apart and reassembled each environment he entered. He could never recite the details and personal politics of all the Great Houses, but he could easily relay the infrastructure of any room and what made for the quickest escape. It was a part of a thief's tool set and something Rosalba had put to her use well.
The wine he drank soured in his mouth. A swirling bile, not the soft, velvet he enjoyed in lighter spirits. Though chatter rose around him as the turnout lent courage to some peoples' voices, Harlan did not attend to the conversations he could catch. His mind lingered on the departed Serorans. Freedom handed over. But not to him. Not to a vagabond caught in between their war.
His attention stirred when others slipped closer to his master, perhaps catching sight of the clever pendant she wore. What Rosalba had to say did intrigue him. If Aodh erupted in turmoil in the coming weeks, set ablaze and toppled over by its own precarious history, he had to know. For the few he cared about- Sirocco above all - to keep them safe in a new world. And in his mind, so weary and desperate, he would stick to Rosalba's side for protection. He might serve as a physical bodyguard, but she held a different kind of strength and power.
He cast the two newcomers a curious look, wondering what he could glean from Rosalba's expression.
OOC: With Rosa; watching Eliina & Oberyn when they approach Rosa.
Image by Kruuja
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Post by iceenights on Jan 15, 2021 10:08:27 GMT -6
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Post by notfromthisgalaxy on Jan 15, 2021 10:29:11 GMT -6
Rain was welcomed.
She watched it pour from the safety of the manor, idly following the way it raced down those massive windows Mother insisted on having. She had caught the slight look of disappointment on her mother's face early that morning, grumbling something about how it never seemed to end.
To think she thought Mother would've been happy, considering she was home for the time being. But, just as she remembered, she found plenty to get under her skin.
She couldn't recall what she had said, directing her words to her mother- who had all but ignored her -then to her father, who had given her the same treatment. Something was on their minds. It was clear in the way their brows wrinkled together. They aimlessly walked the halls of the manor, searching for something to do.
The rumors, she supposed. That had to be it.
She had slugged her way through the muck and the rain, unopposed to the way it trickled down her nose. The muck and grime from the desert had been sloughed off the moment she arrived home. But even then, it was impossible to rid herself completely on it. Sand stuck in places you weren't even aware it could!
To be frank, she wasn't sure why she choose to hide her identity, but she had. In a weeks time, she would be back out in the sands, learning to cope with the heat of the sun all over again.
Her eyes had wandered around the room, for just a moment. There were some she didn't quite recognize. Those she knew were all but a blur now, a distant memory of what she remembered. In the end, she supposed it didn't matter. It was just for the night.
She spied one that she could recoil, the jutting horns striking something familiar within her being. House Xoias. Or she thought so anyway. Her brother had far more dealings with nobles, being the heir and all. She was quite content with watching from a far.
Best to sit with someone friendly.
Her age did not slip past her. The youngest in a small group of high officials. If her presumptions about the others was correct. Mother would perhaps have her head for daring something like this. After all, she did like to nag about how her eldest daughter lost some of her nobility out in the desert.
She could never quite wiggle her way out of the hours of proper etiquette. Mother put her back through on her return. Said the desert sands made her rough and coarse. Not that she noticed, anyway.
"I hope you won't mind more company," she says, taking a seat at a table just next to them. There was no need to over crowd. Besides she liked her space.
WC: 471 | Post: 1
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Post by misttheelf on Jan 15, 2021 10:39:56 GMT -6
Caron "Now the Fire and Wind guide me to Freedom."
Post 2 | WC 280
More and more equines filed into the bar, many holding high ranking positions. Caron felt their resolve start slipping - it had been months since they had been around so many at once. Perhaps they should have gotten some wine, rather than water. They took note of Tate as he entered, giving their fellow smuggler a small nod as they took another sip of their wine, glancing over as someone approached them. They were uneasy, that much was obvious to them. But they had commend her for the attempt at a face of being comfortable. So perhaps it would be prudent of them, to help her relax somewhat. “...Lovely indeed.” They chuckled in response. “And indeed, a shame… But I can simply gaze at them whenever I wish, thanks to Ignacio’s blessing.” They gave a small smile, and reached for their newest blessing, creating an illusion of stars dancing around Sunny’s head. “You’ve no need to be wary of me. Ignacio granted me these antlers and scales not too long ago. I am Aodhian, much the same as you.” The black kirin chuckled. “Relax my dear. While things may be worrisome, nothing is truly different… After all, these rumours about Isador are not new… And in fact, I’m more inclined to believe the new ones, paired with the old.” They mused, knowing that referencing the probable cause of the mare’s worries was not going to cause her to relax, perhaps it would loosen her own tongue so that she tells them what she’s heard? They could only hope. But apart from that, perhaps the mention of the king’s name without the title would draw a few more interested ears to them.
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Post by floatyy on Jan 15, 2021 11:29:49 GMT -6
Sunny was quite uncomfortable with the amount of beautiful equines within this pub who simply radiated power. She shifted on her hooves, before jolting when the kirin spoke. "You can-" She gasped as stars graced her vision, and felt her shoulders relax somewhat. She felt silly for being so worried about them. It wasn't usually like her to judge a book by its cover. Her head tilted in thought, and for a brief moment she felt relatively safe. "I... apologize if I came off as wary. I don't meet many Kirin nowadays." She murmured, looking down at her Furia companion, who lay at her hooves and watched the pub's patrons. Sunny wondered faintly if it was just a coincidence that everything was so tense. Of course it wasn't. Not when so many of the same rumors drifted throughout the room. Her eyes wandered once again, and she found herself recognizing a few others. What they did with their time was none of her business though, and she turned her attention back to the Kirin.
Her ears perked as they spoke of the king so loosely, and her anxiety crawled back up her spine like a mouse trapped in the library once had. It was unwelcome and unnerving. "W- Wait." She lowered her voice, eyes wide. "You... You're more inclined to believe the king..." She whispered the last part, terrified of getting caught spreading rumors. "Is a m- murderer? Or- Or that there's another wyvern?" She looked around quickly, wondering if anyone heard her. The cynical side of her mind fully believed a few of these rumors, but she refused to let that side of her win. That wasn't her, that wasn't how she acted around herself or others. It was a seed planted there by recent events, and it only grew more with each passing rumor.
WC: 306 | Post 3
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Post by Kelpie-River on Jan 15, 2021 12:13:51 GMT -6
Misti || Palasa Flamen || Post Two
The chestnut mare's ears pinned instinctively to her skull as another that she recognized - in name and reputation more than actually knowing the creature - walked in, a cloaked and hooded companion at her side. Moira, the Flamen of Azar, was making a bold statement. One that Misti wondered if she should have made as well. After all, it seemed...wrong to be sneaking about, nose in her wine, ears practically ringing from the sounds of rumors that flitted from one horse's mouth to another. The words were an ocean, drowning the mare's thoughts out as she tried to hold onto what little sense she had left. The wine sat, mostly untouched, before her, so that wasn't the cause of her overwhelming panic. She had to know something. Had to do something. This bickering back and forth in hushed tones about the truth was grinding on her nerves.
Stepping forward, the Flamen cleared her throat, and glanced at the room full of powerful creatures. Even though most faces were hidden, it was clear to tell that something was going on behind the scenes....and some horses decided not to cover themselves at all, she noticed. There were even the glints of bitted bridles here and there, but the overwhelming feeling was one of power, of danger.
"We've all heard rumors," the chestnut began, her voice wavering despite its rasp that she'd earned from a childhood illness. "Some...most foul...and some more curious," she stated, trying to be heard above the rumbled mutterings. "But what can we do with this information? What should we do? Anything? Sitting here spreading tales that we cannot verify won't work....so...what's next?"
WC: 280
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Post by kerarose on Jan 15, 2021 13:49:42 GMT -6
E L I I N A
POST 2 | WC: 331
Eliina stiffened at Oberyn's words. She had thought she was being discreet- apparently not, if his change in tone and expression were to blame. "Greetings, Adviser," she murmured, her voice melodious, even if quiet. "Yes, I have returned, but only for a short time. You may well know that there has been a death in House Xoias. I come to mourn, nothing more."
She took another sip of ale, her ears flicking back and staying there, half-pinned. "At least, that had been my plan. Then I heard the rumors- it certainly cast another shadow over my return home." Her teke fixed the Furia mask on her face, another made sure her cloak covered her tattoo. "To find New Valore in such a state of uproar- it's certainly concerning. Especially when these rumors seem to come together to form a larger story- if they were false, they would all be different, indeed, and form a story too fantastical to believe."
She let her face fall slack, not daring to show any emotion. "However, this one has enough truth to it, it seems, to make it believable. What say you, Advisers?"
The unicorn mare let a soft smile show on her face at the arrival of the hippocampus to their table. "Greetings, Envoy Iulia," she said, greeting the familiar face in a crowd of masks and cloaks. "How are the sands treating you these days? Are the Serorans happy to have their relatives home?"
Lifting her eyes once more to the crowd, she spotted Moira, Flamen of Azar, joined by another figure. Perhaps it was her imagination, but the newcomer to that table looked a surprising amount like Misti, the new Flamen of Palasa, in terms of height and build. And over there- was that Euonia?
She smirked, bringing her mug to her lips once more. "It seems like Ignacio's dearest may believe these rumors, too."
Indeed- why else would they be here?
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Post by kajeayn on Jan 15, 2021 13:51:12 GMT -6
R O S A L B A
post 2 | wc 536
For a long moment, the figure in the cloak did not react to the Envoy addressing her, sipping at her wine in silence. Slowly, she lowered the goblet, setting it down on the table with a quiet clink.
Tilting her head just enough to let Eliina see her face fully, Rosalba gave her a smile with just a little too much teeth to be considered fully friendly.
“I’m sorry?” She queried. “You must have mistaken me with someone else.” Her smile stayed, just a hair too sharp, as her brow lifted a fraction in a pointed look.
Even in the furia mask, she recognized the Envoy at once- she was hard pressed to forget anyone she had worked with, and she dryly thought that she couldn’t think of many others who might boldly announce the name of someone clearly in disguise.
The arrival of another voice, a smooth baritone she recognized, made the knot between her withers loosen a fraction.
“Make yourself at home.” She greeted, and a bit of warmth crept into her tone. Oberyn was a welcome sight- she’d hoped to see him, but had wondered if his own reluctance to approach the more dangerous situations might keep him at home.
She would not blame him, not really. Maybe she thought it was a little soft of him, but she couldn’t find it in herself to be anything but exasperatedly fond about it.
She glanced once up at Eliina, nodding slightly for her to sit as well. The approach of another Envoy was surprising enough it made her smile to herself, lifting her head slightly to look at the hippocampus.
“Sit, sit. It appears we have quite the crowd tonight.” She said lightly, gesturing for her to take a seat.
Her voice was quiet, but in the solemn, nervous-tinged air of the pub, she knew it would carry. Her eyes lingered across the room, where some not very subtle Flamines had just made themselves comfortable at a table, flanked by an unknown figure, but she suppressed a smirk at the sight of a gold lion mask.
Subtle. She liked it.
“I’m happy to see so many friendly faces.” She said, swirling the wine in her goblet. She was aware of her own table having more then one friendly face be one she owned, but she wasn’t going to split hairs. “In times like these, it’s always a relief to see people I can count on.”
The people here in this pub needed to hear that she was a friend.
The newest Flamen, Misti, spoke up and addressed the pub at large, and she hummed thoughtfully.
She had not been in her new position long, but this boldness was an interesting show for someone so new to the position- the ashes hadn’t even cooled from the last Flamen stepping down. Boldness like this could get her noticed, could get her acclaim.
It could also get her killed.
“Isn’t it obvious?” She asked, and felt eyes turn on her when she replied to the Flamen, and her claim that the tales couldn’t be verified. Maybe outside of the present company, sure. She peered out from under her hood at Misti, and she smiled.
“You verify them.”
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Post by Dream-Lark on Jan 15, 2021 16:22:30 GMT -6
Tesana;Aodh|Commoner
Alya and Cascade were at it again.
The mare tugged her cloak about her, glad she had a suitable fabric to help repel the water. The garment even served double duty -- protecting her from the elements as well as hiding her markings and fins. While she wasn’t someone terribly important like a noble, Tesana also didn’t want to do anything that would jeopardize her business -- or her connection to House Marino.
A mask adorned features, a subtle dark gray without any distinguishing features, was tucked within the folds of the fabric. She’d wear it when she drew closer to the pub, but out on the streets as she was, it would only draw undue attention to herself.
A sigh slipped past her lips as she clopped down the street, fretting unusually. It wasn’t like her, and while she had been to the place before, it always made her nervous. She knew it made most of the other patrons nervous as well, and many wore masks such as she did.
The mare couldn’t help it though, she was drawn there, searching out any new information she could about current happenings. The undercurrent of the city was tense, anxious, and with that craze building that had appeared with those visions a month ago….
Well, she wouldn’t normally be called a gossipy woman, but she was most certainly visiting The Goldhead as often as possible.
This time though, she had an unnamed extra helping of anxiety fluttering through her chest and stomach. Perhaps it was because she was alone? Bright gaze searched down the street ahead of her -- she was nearing her destination.
Unconsciously, she pulled her cloak closer about her again, when her eyes fell upon a pair ahead of her -- slaves, and labor ones she assumed, probably heading back toward the Dark District. Normally she wouldn’t have given them a second glance, but being extra aware she focused on them a moment. One looked quite sturdy and the other --
Oh, I know that one.
“You two, come here a moment,” Tesana called, ordering Delta and Runt closer. Yes, they would do, if the little one wanted to tag along. After the events the month before, she could understand if he’d be curious and want to go. She imagined they should be back and accounted for soon, so they might get into some trouble -- but that would be worth it for her sense of safety. And she could instruct them to tell the Chevalier guards that she’d needed their help momentarily at the bath house…
In for a shard, in for a pound of them, as it were.
“Come with me, dears. I’m going to use you as temporary companions for a bit tonight. I know you’ll miss dinner, so I’ll provide you with some soup at our destination. Should any trouble arise, you’re to help with distraction efforts. But that shouldn’t be a problem. It hasn’t been before,” the last part was almost to herself, as she turned to head to the Goldhead, placing her mask upon her face. Goodness, she was being far too nervous.
Upon entering, she breathed deeply, steeling her nerves and blinking at the amount of equines present. Certainly more than had been there before. And it felt like she’d entered upon a silence, as if someone had just addressed the room at large. Stepping to the side to take stock of things, she ushered her slave companions (truly, it almost felt like she was stealing crown property, she really should settle her nerves) to follow her.
Gaze settled a moment upon a masked and cloaked figure among others at the back of the room, who spoke about verifying something. Perhaps they meant the rumors that had been circulating around?
As she continued to take stock of things, the mare moved toward the bar and tables closest where she was shocked to see the antlers of a kirin. While she was getting a read on the room and figuring out what she’d just stepped into, she could at least do so with a glass of wine and make good on the food promise for the slaves she’d yanked from their intended path.
WC:695 | Post #1 | Ref
Tes is wearing a cloak and mask! |
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reyarpg
Star
- What's sleep?
Posts: 41 
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Post by reyarpg on Jan 15, 2021 16:41:15 GMT -6
It had taken more than just a little convincing to have Rosalba agree to allowing Edenne to come.
To be fair, Edenne herself was usually rather hesitant to leave the confines of the beautiful, secure mansion she called home while alongside her fair mistress. However, things were happening, and she could hardly stand the idea of leaving Rosalba to go to a tavern alone for Ignacio's sake. There were things at risk here, and also things to boost. Edenne herself was a status symbol, so being able to go alongside Rosalba would do her patron worlds of good for her name.
There were too many reasons to go, than not to.
Of course, the real reason she wanted to go was hidden behind words that she knew would convince Rosa to allow her. Pretty please's, batting of eyelashes, and pulling the heartstrings of the desire to see the outside world beyond what the Dark District had shown her, ultimately yielded a reluctant yes on her mistress's part. Edenne was determined to make sure Rosa didn't regret it.
And now, she found herself in a pub with so many horses from all walks of life; far more than she was used to, at least in the variety department. Sure, she'd spent most of her early years with young slaves, most of her middle years with royalty and party guests, and her Dark years with other labor slaves. But this was something else entirely. She found herself nearly glued to Rosalba's side, though not so much to look like a helpless Kindling. She was certainly, passively, on the lookout for any hidden threats to Rosalba. However, she was also drinking in the music and the sound of various conversations melding into a droll that was surprisingly not unpleasant to the ear.
She remained calm, quiet, and spoke very little as another horse addressed her owner - two, actually. She kept her head tucked underneath her own cloak, obscuring much of her coat and hiding it. A small rose brooch keeps it closed, and signified without a doubt who owns her. Clearly, this was no place to show off her coat, she'd come to realize. This was much more of a 'keep Rosa company, keep her safe' than anything else. And Edenne was content with this. She could peacefully listen to her patron's conversations- and fetch drinks if needed. Still, she took in the visage of the stallion speaking with Rosa. Oberyn, his name was? She didn't recognize the other horse, however. While the others sat, she would be standing, though she was small enough to not make herself a nuisance.
[wc; 437, tagging; rosalba. mentions: oberyn ]
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Post by Zugunruhes on Jan 15, 2021 17:34:52 GMT -6
▸Kaspar◂
WC 438 | Post One
Had it been only a few months prior- even a month ago- he would not have come at all. Indeed Flamen Kaspar would be the very man to dissuade rumors and suggest those with discontent look to one of his sermons instead for guidance. There were always answers to be found there. Not in the words that slithered through secret meetings and in whispered tones. That was how he thought of rumors once. Shadows that crept in brooding darkness, crept only by those who wished to seed further discord.
Instead as he walked towards the the Goldhead Pub he felt alive with purpose. Heat, from the thrumming of his heart, coursed through every part of his aspect. His mind blazed with all he wanted to speak of, as though writing a new sermon at a frantic tempo. The battering wind and rain seemed to glance off his robe; he did not feel soaked to the bone.
In the place of his usual gleaming, white cloak was an a black fabric. It hung over his face, but no mask obscured him entirely. He was beyond that when for most of his life he had run about wearing a different sort of mask. Besides, he was fond of his sermons and suspected that more than one would recognize his voice if he spoke up. And he intended to.
But when he entered the pub, guarded by secrecy, the familiar nerves crept upon him. A cold starting from his hooves stirred. It seemed to contend with the warmth still coming from his heart and he had to steel himself. A few visitors had let their guards down entirely and boldly showed or hinted at their faces. Others were more secretive, but he did not fault them for the decision. It was dangerous to be truthful and some lived within an intricate web of politics daily.
So he settled in one corner to listen. He thought he saw a glint of a lion-like mask somewhere and that was a note of encouragement. A first voice addressed the room considering the rumors that inspired the rich conversations of the pub. That was a question indeed, what to do about the rumors now? If some were no longer stories, that he knew, then perhaps all of them held the truth.
A figure hooded in black spoke next, and Kaspar stood to follow her words. His voice rang out, one that was normally so accustomed to the halls of Fernos. "Let us share our stories to align the truth. In that we find strength that the ones who lied to us will never hold."
Image by Kruuja
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Post by misttheelf on Jan 15, 2021 18:02:46 GMT -6
Caron "Now the Fire and Wind guide me to Freedom."
Post 3| WC 260 “Indeed, I am inclined to believe so.” Caron hummed. “Some time ago I was rather invisible to most, and so privy was I to some conversation.” They stated, an ear flicking back to listen to conversations, as some names are dropped for those who chose to come unmasked, unhidden, as one asked why they should share such rumors. Caron had a response, as they turned to see who had spoken - A mare with a hawk’s mask, another stepped up to voice their opinion - that they share, to verify the information. That was a sentiment that Caron fully agreed with. “I am in agreement with that. For it’s only in collected knowledge that we can find the truth of the matter.” They raised their head so that those closest could see their electric blue eyes. “I’ll admit I am a secondary source for what info I have, but regardless, I heard of this from three individuals who were first hand sources some month ago. They had been in a meeting with Isador, before King Amadeus had been murdered. They called into question how quick his ascent to the throne had been. And they made mention of how he had hated Amedeus.” They paused. “At the very least, I believe that this lends more credence to two of the rumours that I presume lay heavily on everyone’s mind.” They were no longer a meek, common slave in service to an Eminent.
They were a Kirin. And a Smuggler. They would smuggle the information they had, as they had been smuggling other horses. |
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savorda
Dwarf Star
avatar by posy-punch
Posts: 61
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Post by savorda on Jan 16, 2021 4:30:42 GMT -6
| P Y R E F L A M E N O F I G N I S F I N D R E S U R R E C T I O N I N T H E F L A M E |
Pyre wished she could simply stand in the rain forever and let it wash away all of her troubles. How simple life would be if such a thing were true. But alas, all she would gain out here was a cold. Besides, this outing had a purpose. She heard the rumors. How could she not, with the way eminents gossiped. She did her best to help spread some herself, of course. She could sit idly by no longer. The gentle hum of rain masked any sort of noise that might have otherwise escaped Goldhead. Pyre took extra care to readjust bother her mask and the hood of her cloak before entering.
Quiet conversations could be heard throughout the room, but Pyre struggled to glean anything from them. A small twinge of fear settled in the pit of her stomach. Gathering here in times such as these was incredibly dangerous, and yet, they all came. Some even wore no masks, almost announcing their identity proudly. Pyre wasn’t sure whether she should commend their bravery or lecture them for their stupidity. Should any of them be caught, especially with certain rumors flying about, who knows what would happen to them.
A voice called the room to attention, addressing the rumors. Another chimed in from the back. Pyre nodded. Surely many of them here held some fragment of the truth. Should they manage to fit their pieces together, they all might walk away from this night with a much fuller picture. Some other hooded figure spoke. Well now, she’d recognize that voice. Kaspar’s presence soothed her, if only just a little. A friendly face was a much welcome relief. Again, another spoke, only this time, they had a tale to tell. Their words made Pyre’s skin crawl. Paired with several other rumors that managed to reach her ears, well, the thought was almost too terrible to consider. While her own information was nowhere near as damning, she spoke up.
“Just about a month ago, Isador asked that I and a few others visit the refugee camps to offer what help we could. Everything seemed extremely organized and almost comfortable just outside the gates, not unlike neighborhoods you see here in the city. I thought it a bit odd at the time, but I was glad to be pleasantly surprised.” she said, her tone neat, well practiced. “Deeper in the camp, however, conditions deteriorated. Significantly. Hunger seemed to wrack everyone’s frames alongside wounds far too fresh to be the result of their escape. And those unfortunate enough to find themselves seemingly forgotten by their king, mostly young adults and children.”
Pyre’s tail curled under her cloak. She could only help so much that day, and she did her best to return whenever she had a moment to spare, but she’s one individual. She could only do so much. She cleared her throat before continuing.
“Now, I’m not one to go about making baseless accusations, but it cannot be a coincidence that the area just outside the city gates, where visitors are most likely to see, should be so meticulously cared for. Nor do I believe Isador asked my companions and myself to visit by chance. I believe he wanted us to see the veneer he so delicately constructed and return to the city singing praises.” More and more venom dripped from her words as she spoke, her stance on the matter more than clear.
570 words | post 1 | ooc: pyre wears both a cloak and mask
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Post by SkyOfNewMoon on Jan 16, 2021 6:11:27 GMT -6
 Nova;Aodh | Courtesan
shitDuring one of her many benders a couple of years ago, Nova got to know the Goldhead all too well. In fact, half the bar staff still knew her very well. As she flashed a bright, sober grin to the bouncer (who was shocked to see her in such a clean state) she became quickly aware that many of tonight's patrons did not know the pub well. A lot of itchy skin it seemed, despite the quality of their fabrics. Despite the hooded cloaks and masks here and there, Nova felt she could pick out a couple of familiar faces, though certainly not any she could picture at the Goldhead on a normal shady evening.
Nova herself, was not afraid to show her face here. No royalty was keeping a close eye on her and like previously mentioned, she was already a well known character, beauty such as hers could not be hidden, certainly not when money could be made.
As she made her way to the bar, Farley's larger frame a looming shadow behind her, Nova began to listen to the gossip that was circulating, mostly centring around Isador's dirty life that was coming quickly to the surface. No one could deny all of the rumours building up. Word of extra Wyverns did send a shiver down her spine. Her one interaction with Sola destroying the Pearl was enough for her.
She ordered herself a gin and tonic and an apple juice for Farley, which he took with gratitude. "Keep an ear out, I want to hear all the good stuff later." She muttered to her slave, sending him off into the opposite corner. Meanwhile her gaze was caught by a larger equine ordering food for her slaves, "how curious" she thought to herself. "I gotta ask, though it may be obvious, what brings you here tonight? Got a couple of rumours up your cloak too? My bets are on Issy's been sneaking his way to the top for quite some time now." Nova followed their gaze to the antlered equine. "Still rather shocking isn't it. Seeing them back here again." Her voice trailed off as she thought about the Kirin she first laid eyes on... Soleil back in Haven. Another shudder went down her spine. The chaotic trail that old King was making was truly nauseating.
--Talking to Tesana. Nova is not hiding her identity,
WC: 388 | Post #1artwork by hey-stardust |
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Post by SkyOfNewMoon on Jan 16, 2021 6:53:38 GMT -6
 Farley;Aodh | Pit Fighter
chaosFarley felt entirely out of his depth as he followed Nova into the pub. Sure, he had accompanied her to a classy bar here and there, but he hadn't known her since she'd stopped coming to places like this, she called him her "fresh start". Admittedly Farley was somewhat glad for his wings being magnetised, he couldn't help but typically flare out when he was uncomfortable.
As if things couldn't get more unusual for the pit fighter, half of the patrons were in masks and cloaked up! Not that he could've guessed any faces anyway...
It wasn't often that Nova allowed him to have sugar and his eyes began to sparkle like a Bloodletting fire as the apple juice was placed in front of him. He quickly chugged it down before Nova told him to go hover in the corner. Corners were safe and Farley was thankful for a quiet option. He still wasn't caught up on the nobility situation, no matter how many times Nova had explained it to him, but he did pick up on one key element, others 'like him' typically wore bitted bridles and he noticed a few here tonight, but felt he'd better just listen and try to understand something to report back to Nova... for now.
WC:212 | Post #1artwork by queerly |
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Post by Coffie-Buzz on Jan 16, 2021 12:26:43 GMT -6
Delta
Aodh | Labor Slave
It had been raining hard for quite some time. Delta didn’t mind it at all. It was comforting and welcome, feeling the wind and water wash away the dirt from her dappled coat. She was soaked, having no cloak to cover herself with, and the undersides of both her and the kid were spattered with mud from the day’s work. Delta envied Runt’s brownish coat. It at least made it harder to see the mud. Also, she was certain that his fleas weren’t having the best time, either. The jeweled, silver chain braided into her mane glittered in the light of the street lamps. It always seemed to somehow stay clean, though she supposed that being a gift given to her by a God had something to do with it. As the two made their way back to the barracks at a hurried pace, an unfamiliar voice caused them to pause. Delta raised her head to the voice, stepping in front of Runt the slightest. An attempt to shield him, not hide him. As the darker hippocampus spoke, a knot formed in the pit of Delta’s stomach. They had to get back. The Chevaliers wouldn’t be impressed with either of them and there was a chance of having a punishment given or food withheld. She wasn’t concerned for herself, but rather the kid at her side. But this was a citizen requesting work from them and they had to follow. Then the words ‘temporary companions’ reached her ears and Delta squinted her eyes in suspicion. She raised her head, holding herself like she used to when she was in Onea’s military. Confident, strong. Her ears tilted back, uncomfortable, but yet she followed the dark mare. Runt was at her side and she bent her head down to whisper in his ear while keeping her eyes on the darker mare as she donned a mask, “ People in this city don’t wear masks unless there is something worth hiding from. We don’t have that luxury, so I want you to listen very carefully. First, close that extra eye of yours. There are a few other Slaves that share your colors but that eye makes you unique and easily noticed. If there is trouble, you’d be picked out. Second, I want you to stay close to me, but not too close, for obvious reasons. If there is a fight at any point I want you to run back to the barracks. Don’t do as she says, you’ll get it worse if you do. I can handle a punishment.
Finally, unless you have something useful to add, better to just say nothing at all, okay bud?” Her tone had started firm but as she spoke, it sounded more like a concerned parent. She wasn’t going to let some entitled mare drag him deeper into misery just so she could save her own ass. They soon came to the doors of…. A pub? Delta had to hold in the amused snort. Not what she was expecting, but okay? When the doors opened, she caught glimpses of other horses wearing cloaks and masks. Guess it was her turn to wear a disguise. A thick smoke cascaded over her neck and head, spreading from the jewelry in her hair. As it cleared, the illusory image of a very real dragon covered her features, mimicking any facial expression she made. It was clear that it was an illusion. Her face could just barely be seen behind the façade, no different than wearing a veil. It was at this point that she realized Runt had never seen the dragon before. Better late than never. As the three of them walked in, there was talk of rumors. The dark mare ordered the two Labor Slaves the soup she had promised and the two sat at an empty table in a darkened corner as they ate. Then someone mentioned sharing stories so they could find out where the lies ended and truth started. Delta almost laughed, the dragon’s muzzle wrinkling in amusement. She listened as a Kirin spoke of King Isador’s hatred for the young King Amedeus, ‘ Yeah, that checks out.’ the mare thought, ‘ If I wanted to be King, I’d hate the little rat sitting in my way, too.’ Next to speak was a mare. Delta stopped eating. She spoke of horrible conditions of refugee camps the farther you walked from the city walls. Delta felt the fire roll in her throat, the Slave bridle holding back it’s release. She nosed her half empty bowl over to Runt, “ Lost my appetite,” she growled, voice low and distorted by the fire she couldn’t use, “ All yours kiddo.” Quietly, she got up from the table, the dragon’s mouth pulled back into a blatant snarl. She made her entry into the conversation known with a loud stomp of her hoof, the force behind it sending vibrations through the floorboards. She looked at the mare who had spoken, “ How are those conditions any different than the ones within your walls? Or do you only care when it happens to people worth caring about? It’s not like you don’t see it every day, you just ignore it.” her words were mimicked by the illusion, lending the image of a dragon speaking, “ Or perhaps you’d like to be the one to explain to the child born into slavery why her mother died of starvation.” She turned her attention to the first horse who had spoken, the one asking them to share stories, “ You asked for truth? I have one that I personally witnessed and my words can be enforced by both Tiresias and an Attendant from Palasa. As well as several others, one of which being the King’s own Pit Fighter.
Your entire civilization is built on a lie.
There is a Silver dragon egg on a pedestal inside Palasa Sanctum. When it was placed on the stone, everyone around it was taken back in time. Back 1000 years ago. We witnessed the building of what I believe to be the Palace. We didn’t see a single Kirin, for obvious reasons. But we also didn’t see anything that sang their praises either. You all blame Alya. You say she slaughtered the Kirin’s but you have it twisted.
Your King Igna had no clue who we were talking about when we addressed her by that name. She corrected us, saying that her name was Governor Foehn. And the City? When we asked a local where New Valor was they laughed at us! Then said that only an idiot would give a City that name. We were corrected again and you know what the City was actually called?
They called it New Osulas.” Delta let that sink in before continuing. “ Your entire city is inspired by Kirin culture, but was built and founded by Seroran and Breiman war survivors…. And you put them in chains for sport…. You have a lot more on the plate than a few corrupt rumors.”
WC: 1162 Post: 1 |
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