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Post by Queerly on Jul 15, 2017 10:09:26 GMT -6
Hello Starborn, and welcome to Plot 403: Once More, With Feeling Team Leader: Sinead Participants: Araphine, Zuriel, Nova, Constance, Nuala, Hancock, Eostre, Felix, Clythus
Please keep the following in mind! - Posts must be a minimum of 175 words. There is no maximum! - 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! - Your team is precious. Try to interact with everyone. <3 - Have fun! Even if your pony isn't. 8'D
Prompt: In light of the King's death, every establishment in Valore is closed for a period of three days. The Pearl is no exception. With her doors closed to customers, the courtesans have nothing better to do than drown their sorrows (or more likely their boredom) in opium and drink. Gathered in the front room, they lay scattered among the couches and rugs, passing the time however they so choose.
Location:: The Pearl's front room, which also serves as its opium den. The establishment is closed to patrons. Time of Day: Mid-morning
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Post by PaganStars on Jul 15, 2017 13:27:03 GMT -6
Hancock Inhale...
Exhale...
Smoke billowed from Hancock's nose as he let a deep breath of air out of his lungs, head hung back as he watched the smoke twist and turn in the air, dancing in its own special way. It mesmerised him for a moment, eyes half lidded as he lounged on a cushion by the front door, the locks secured and the shutters drawn to block out the rising suns rays. The room felt strange; sure it was filled with people but it felt empty in a way as well. No grouping feels or customers stumbling on the hardwood, no heads to knock and kick out for not paying full price. The air was heavy, stifling really... It made Hancock's skin itch.
Letting out a sigh (and another cloud of smoke) Hancock sat up straight and brought his head back around to gaze at the various people gathered in the now smokey room. He knew most of them, hell they weren't close but he knew at least most of them. The trick was to try and remember names and match them with the right face, something a little hard to do in the dimly lit room and through his now only one good eye. He absently scratched at the healing scars that cut through his eyebrow and cheek. Gods, this is a great year so far aint it, he smirked to himself, letting his head role again.
It started with a boat and ended with a king
It was too early for this shit.
Post 1 | 258
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Post by Disastercorn on Jul 15, 2017 15:10:27 GMT -6
CLYTHUS
The bells had been striking.
A sound the stallion had not expected to hear ever. At least not for many years to come. A cold wave had rushed through his body paralyzing him as his mind worked through what they meant.
There was no sound one could make, no words one could say to make this any better. Who... Who could have murdered a child? One struggling to do the best he could do in his current situation? His actions and decries might not have been the best but... He had not been evil, had not been menacing. Dual colored eyes closed and Clythus laid it on a small pillow next to his mistress Nuala, his body as close to the ground as he could get to escape the layer of smoke above him.
His mane and tail where weaved around on the ground, acting like fine silk waves as the silver male kept his eyes closed. It was a terrible ending to the very start of the book and Clythus still couldn't wrap his head around it. Turning his head slightly he pushed it into Nuala's belly, trying to escape, trying to hide. He needed some sort of reassurance that everything would be fine in the end. That this was not the end of Aodh. Who would take the throne now?
After a few more moments of silence the servile slave lifted his head, bit jingling as he adjusted it between his lips. "Should I brew some Tea? Does anyone want something to drink?" He was a slave after all and felt a strange unease with how still and how silence the room was currently. Maybe some food and some drink would help ease... someone.
Word Count: 285 || Post #1
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Post by hey-stardust on Jul 15, 2017 16:24:44 GMT -6
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1 | 293
SINEAD (GROUP NPC) | AODH | COMMONER
Regretfully, being completely plastered in the workplace is often frowned upon in even the most upmarket of establishments, so Sinead settled for remaining begrudgingly upright and mostly sober in her usual, dimly lit corner of The Pearl after receiving news of the untimely (ha!), king's death. The gathered courtesans were a rampant mixture of raw emotions that only grew more volatile the deeper their muzzles sank into their tankards about the incident, and then there was Octavia; ever the business woman, burying herself in the books and hiding her indifference on the matter whilst Zipporah hovered close by, bartering for a night out on the town.
Sinead was pleasantly apathetic to the entire situation herself, but the alcohol she sipped sparingly from a hip flask at her side had long ago stopped being for celebratory measures, and was purely medicinal if anyone were to dare ask-
And then her whole world shook, foundations cracking with an explosion that defaced the Pearl in one swift, devastating moment, bringing down the front entrance. The force of the blast was enough to slam the brick of a pony into the wall next to her; waking a familiar, age old ache that she had long hoped to leave behind in the pits, fractured ribs. As the dust settled, Sinead grimaced, tightening the scar over her lip. Gut instinct had already told her what she needed to know, but she looked anyway, to crush any flicker of optimism that either the beloved mistress or Zipporah might have survived.
Singed parchment fluttered like grotesque snowfall around their twisted, lifeless forms, and it became quite clear there was nothing to be done for them now, unless one counted a priest and a pine box.
"EVERYONE, OUT." She barked, voice cracking.
coded by pinn @ thqhouston i have so many problems.
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Post by Sasha Arctic on Jul 15, 2017 22:45:05 GMT -6
Eostre
|| Stallion || 14.2 hh || Courtesan ||
The morning was dragging, the Pearl was closed due to the untimely death of their young King but Eostre was more concerned with the lack of coin he was bringing in. Being a humble Courtesan the dainty stallion had spent his life trying to forget about the turmoils of the world around him and today was no different, sucking deeply on his opium pipe the stallion stretched his thin body across a large luxurious pillow usually left for guests but today there would be none if Aodh itself had anything to say on the matter. Eos couldn't understand why the city had to be closed for three whole days in tradition of mourning the kings passing, it would be three long boring days...Shifting restlessly upon his pillow, his long flaxen lion tail twitched in annoyance like a grumpy cat and eyed those around him with a calculating glance beneath a sea of hair topped with a thorny crown shaped horn of amethyst. He had always enjoyed the company of Sinead, she was rough around the edges to be sure but her heart was warm to the courtesans and he loved to watch her throw unruly patrons from the Pearl. Hancock...the stallion was every bit his type, tall cocky and handsome, the scars he had recently acquired only added to his dashing good looks, in Eostre's eyes at least. His fellow male courtesan Zuriel and mate Felix on the other hand were nothing like his type, both were amiable to be around to be sure but Felix was too quiet and Zuriel was too sassy for his liking and rather insecure...not an attractive trait to say the least. Eostre knew he was beautiful and had been told such since birth thus had no reason to doubt his beauty, and pitied those without his same confidence. Some of the other lovely female courtesans the Pearl employed were there too but Eos didn't pay much mind to them unless he was braiding their beautiful hair, like he had done to his own sea of hair that morning trying to kill time. One could say he preferred the company of stallions over mares any day, especially if they were fooling around in his room. The thought of 'working' made the stallion grow more annoyed and restless as he lifted his curved head to see the slave of Nuala, Clythys, offering tea. He was going to nod and demand some refreshments be served when he heard the, now familiar, sound of an explosion crash in the face of the Pearl. It seemed work would be delayed for more than three days...Jerking shakily to his violet hooves the dainty stallion swayed before landing back on his pillow, a high pitched noise rang in his delicate ears and disoriented his sense of what was up and what was down. The sound of Sinead's familiar voice barking orders penetrated the muffled screaming in his ears, Everyone out! His heart thumped wildly in his chest, adrenaline kicking in, was she expecting another blast?! The smell of blood filled his nose and caused his eyes to wander, trying to find the source as his mind prayed it wasn't him...his crystal blue eyes found rough rubble smothering the area where Octavia and Zipporah had been, their crimson blood splashed across the broken stones and their bodies-! Eos had to turn his head from the sight of their twisted corpses, clenching his jaw and fighting back tears of fear and outrage the stallion forced his legs to move beneath him, pushing himself towards the comfort of Sinead's familiar body and rough voice, he knew she would lead him to safety.
Post 1 | Word Count: 613
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Post by Disastercorn on Jul 15, 2017 23:18:28 GMT -6
CLYTHUS
Eyes flickered around the room, taking a final count for those that wished to have tea or a refill on their booze. His head turned, ears forward as he almost moved to step towards the kitchen.
Yet it all happened so fast.
From his standing position, the tall equine was slammed with a wave of sound and air he had not been expecting. Knees seared the ground, his lengthy form and spindly legs hardly able to keep him up from such a strong force. Long silkly strands flew around him as his world literally exploded around him, almost as if in slow motion. The equines around the room where all being tossed around as if the room itself had been picked up and shook.
Dual colored orbs then focused on one equine, and one equine alone.
He had to protect his mistress.
With as much effort as he could he rose back up into an almost standing position and bowed his head, placing himself between Nuala and the blast area. As long as he could, he would allow as little harm to befell his owner, the one who cared for him and built him up to be who he was now. He cared more for her then he did himself and if he received more scars over his already marred body, he knew his mistress would not toss him away because of it. The silver stallion felt stones and rubble rip away at his mane, pulling it from the roots as his knees throbbed with pain, blood trickling down from them.
When it did finally settle, at least enough for them to hear the shouted words from Sinhead, only then did Clythus move to assist his mistress from the ground, should she need it and only then did his eyes take in the blood that was seeping from the rubble where the massive welcoming doors had been. He stood frozen in place, orbs wide with shock and bewilderment. There was no way this had happened... The hooves and hair that protruded from the rubble only made his mind blank more. That could have been any one of them... Again Aodh was being bombed. Was no where within this city safe?
His breathing was shallow, legs shaking. He could not move.
Word Count: 380 || Post #2
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Post by mule-guts on Jul 16, 2017 3:02:04 GMT -6
Constance | Aodh | Courtesan1 | 661 The bells of sorrow rang throughout the city early on in the morning, waking Constance from her slumber. She woke groggy from an intensive schedule the day before, it took her a moment to realize what exactly those bells were meant for. Her heart sank for a moment, the sunlight of dawn filtered through her window as she laid in her bed taking in that someone of the Royal family has passed. Death never sat with her right, and with the passing of someone she cared so deeply for still not healed, it hit her more than it probably should have. Especially seeing as she still had no idea who it was. Her long ears twitched back sorrowfully, as she pulled herself from the comfort of her plush sheets. Chalcedony hooves tapped on the hard floor as she made her way to the extravagant vanity across the room. Dim, unawoken eyes stared back at the courtesan, as she brushed her wavy mane and made the effort to get everything else done to be ready for the laid back day. Or so she thought. With her head hung lower than usual, Connie ambled down the halls of her workplace to the large front room where her fellow workers were mindlessly drinking and smoking. Both of which Connie tried to steer clear from except the occasional social drink. On her way down to the room, her radar ears caught wind of mournful whispers and soft weeping. “Our King is dead..”She stopped. Amadeus? Dead? Her concave but elegant head turned to the group of workers, asking for clarification. And, when she got it, it tugged at her heartstrings evermore. Constance was never a fan of the Boy King, however, who had it in their gut to murder a child? A coward, that’s who. A faint, shattered sigh escaped the mare’s lips as she finished her journey to the infamous Opium Den. Taking a quick glance around at her friends and co-workers, her lilac eyes fell on one of the pearl’s bouncers, Hancock, more specifically the open seat next to him. A half-hearted smile reached across the to room to him, which he probably didn’t see because of the drug laced haze. “Hello”s and everyday pleasantries were exchanged as she excused herself past a small crowd of courtesans, careful not to whack anyone with her long lion’s tail. Can’t guarantee anything though. She passed a meek hello to the older mare Sinead, in her usual corner. Connie knew she would never get a word back but she always spoke to the former fighter anyways, believing that deep, deep down, Sinead appreciated it. Despite, the heaviness in the air, Connie tried her hardest to regain her usual upbeat self, smiling and making sure that those around her were at least content. She settled in next to the battered bouncer, ignoring Clythus asking for tea, not out of disdain but because she didn’t care for any. It wasn’t even minutes of relaxing before the ferocious blast hit. The explosion echoed in the mule’s ears, her world spinning, lungs aching. She was knocked back by the wave of outward force, literally. Hooves clattered against the exposed, yet failing flooring. Why must Aodh be Explosion Central? Panicked, the mare attempted to scramble to her feet, failing miserably. The feeling of shrapnel grazed her spotted coat, causing her to pin her still ringing ears and lowering her head with eyes closed, as if to brace herself for something awful, unaware of Hancock’s heroic act, attempting to shield the worker from the majority of the debris. With the ring of the blast subsiding ever so slightly, the Courtesan could hear the roar of Sinead’s voice, demanding that they find the nearest way out. Constance didn’t have time to thank the male bouncer, before she was able to regain her footing. When the ex-pit fighter commanded, you followed. Her watery eyes darted to and for searching for the best way out. @nox
ulla [/quote]
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Post by Queerly on Jul 16, 2017 15:34:46 GMT -6
He’d never been resilient. It was a personal shame. For all that he had been through and all that he had seen, Zuriel felt that he’d never managed to construct the emotional armor intuitive to victims of hardship and suffering. The King’s murder struck him as hard as the the royal deaths preceding it, but he wasn’t mourning. Zuriel didn’t mourn those he didn’t know, and truthfully he was bothered more by the implication of his apathy than the apathy itself. His affliction was panic, born from the simple conclusion that if boy under lock and guard could die, could be killed in his own bed, none in Valore were safe.
It was a thought that chilled him to his bones.
While his sister flaunted her indifference and a desire to escape the cage, Zuriel had taken residence on a couch. He lay with his head across Felix’s withers and stared into the vacuum of time and space, trying - with varying degrees of success - to not let his panic reach a point where it bubbled from the inside to the out. The world felt shrouded in a veil of surreality.
That feeling would only grow with urgent intensity as the Pearl rocked on its foundation, beams and mortar becoming projectiles with potential lethality. Zuriel’s reaction time was slow: for a moment, he’d been sitting upright, watching as his sister vanished beneath the Pearl’s famous archway. She’ll be angry, he thought, and perhaps later he would examine the sheer audacity of that moment. Zipporah was dead.
The room shifted sideways. He found it odd, and then realized that Felix had tackled him to the floor. Distantly, Zuriel realized that the Pearl was still crumbling around him. He felt the painter’s body judder as the ceiling properly collapsed. Something warm began to drip on his cheek.
Felix was a deadweight on his back, but Zuriel could lift his head to look at him, could see the blood leaking from his nose and lips.
“Help.” Zuriel murmured. Then, louder, as the world and all its terrors swam into acute focus. “Help! He’s hurt! Felix is hurt, please-!”
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Post by empyre on Jul 16, 2017 16:23:50 GMT -6
Felix || Commoner || Status: head boo boo
Felix hadn't known the king, not beyond what he'd seen of the boy during the trial, but still the fact that someone had a dark enough heart to murder a young boy; bad leader or not...It chilled him to the core to think such a thing could happen within the herd, whoever was behind the assassination was still free, so who would be next to be taken? He'd rushed to the Pearl as soon as the bells tolled, had to make sure Zuriel was safe, that he was okay.
Okay was not really the word he would use for his love when he found him and pressed himself to the other stallion's side on the couch, offering his own hardly solid form to lean on, but Zuriel for the most part was unharmed. Anything more he was sure they could work through, could talk about, just some other time. A time when the fear and confusion weren't clouding their minds as much as the smokes clouded the air of the Pearl.
It was a split second decision to throw himself over Zuriel as the wall of the Pearl was suddenly splintered to pieces by an explosion. He had already been on edge, already been in a protective state of mind, so it was nothing but instinct which drove him to tackle his love to the ground, shielding him from the debris which seemed endless. A sudden, sharp, pain exploded across the side of his head and face, then nothing but darkness overtook his senses.
It could not have been more than a minute when Zuriel's panicked shouts stirred him. He could not make out the words, the sound far away and muffled, but the fear was obvious. Was he hurt? Did he need help? Panic began to build in his own gut as he struggled to lift his head. A metallic tang filled his mouth, and the warm stickiness of blood soaked into his fur and forelock. He was vaguely aware that it was his own, and that several bloodied shards of sky blue quartz lay on the ground before him, but his mind's focus was on Zuriel alone.
"Zuriel?...Are you alright?"
post 1 || words: 365
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Post by Aerased on Jul 16, 2017 18:55:20 GMT -6
pool full of liquor, THEN YOU DIVE IN IT "The King is dead." It had not been something Araphine expected to hear so suddenly - sure, Amadeus was not necessarily well-liked, but he was a child; a child who, despite his best efforts (and, indeed, they had been his best efforts), had done nothing but fail since his first days as King. Or so she'd been told - truthfully, Araphine had paid little attention to Aodhian politics until recently; she heard what her patrons mumbled drunkenly in the privacy of her room, and made little effort to hear any more. If you asked her personal opinion on King Amadeus, she might tell you she found him sad; handsome... but still sad. And so, she found herself unable to truly mourn the death of the Boy King; she held no love for him, but to say that the atmosphere was not seriously ruining her mood would be a blatant lie. Though she found herself surrounded by good company, there was a sadness that hung around them, heavily intertwined with the strands of smoke and the opium-induced haze. The group of courtesans gathered in the entry room had hardly spoken since their arrival this morning; the entire shutdown of the city left them with little to do, and so they drowned their sorrows (or their boredom) in booze and opiates. She was only on her third cup of wine, and it sat empty at her feet; she nodded as Clythus offered to refresh their drinks, a slight smile parting her lips as she began to speak - - only to be cut off as the very foundation of the Pearl trembled; with no time to move she simply shut her eyes, ears flattening against her head as she braced herself for impact that never came. The explosion was deafening, and all-too familiar; she suddenly remembered the Crucible, she remembered falling and screaming and wandering through the darkness... but as the dust settled, she realized she was not falling. She was still here, alive and unharmed; her brain seemed to kickstart as she remembered that she was not alone in this room and there was a high possibility that someone else had been injured. Through Zuriel's cries - muffled by the ringing in her ears - she heard Sinead's command, but her eyes were fixed on a point, wide and unmoving. Beneath the crumbled archway spread a sea of brown hair, interrupted only by garish slashes of red; Zipporah and Octavia's bodies lay crushed, contorted and mangled and motionless as the dust settled over them. Time seemed to stop as the mare quickly came to terms with the fact that Octavia and Zipporah were dead and that someone was currently attacking them. The realization that they were likely still in danger hit her nearly as hard as the initial explosion, and the threat seemed to bring her back to her senses; she turned to see Felix and Zuriel in a heap, shards of what she could only assume was Felix’s horn littering the floor around them. She was next to them in just a few strides, nudging Felix gently but with an unmistakable urgency; though romantic, now was not the time to be lost in each other’s well-being. “Lovebirds, come on - I think we’re still in danger, we have to go!”
ONE | WC: 543 BACK AT IT AGAIN WITH THE EXPLOSIONS PHARAOH LEAP.
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Post by Gaybies on Jul 16, 2017 19:13:43 GMT -6
N U A L A♥Aodh Courtesan♥ You may not be her first, her last, or her only. The king was dead. It was unfortunate, to be sure, but Nuala was not prone to spells of weeping nor was she one to drown her sorrows in opiates. Still, she had taken up a place on one of the numerous cushions among her fellow courtesans, with her darling slave at her side, and commenced with this moment of mourning. She wasn’t particular sad for the king’s demise, but none the less worried about where the future would take them.
Nuala wouldn’t deny the fact that she would’ve much rather been entertaining customers today than sitting amongst the group of courtesans. She held nothing against her peers, but there was money to be made, dead king or no. Those fleshy ears would twitch as Clythus pressed his head against her stomach and idly she would turn to press her nose to his cheek. She had grown quite fond of the slave and could tell he needed some sort of comforting. She shifted as he got up and asked the group if anyone could use anything. He was considerate like that, she mused...
The mare wouldn’t answer, knowing that her slave would bring her something whether she spoke or not. He seemed to know what she wanted before she wanted it, so it had become habit not to reply to every question. Nuala had been about to lower her head back to the soft cushions when the very foundations of the Pearl were rocked by the explosion.
The force of the blast would throw the small mare against the floor, head striking the ground with enough force to disturb her vision. She blinked as crimson streamed from a spot beneath the fleshy veil of her ‘cape’ and into her eyes. An assortment of small cuts had formed across her delicate skin, the soft cape wasn’t really built for explosions, but otherwise she wasn’t too worse for wear. It took her a moment or two longer to respond, her brain sufficiently rattled, but at last she would attempt to rock to her feet. Her vision was blurry, a haze of red and duplicated images, but they had to move.
“Clythus!” She practically shrieked as she unsteadily tried to regain her hooves. A figure would come to her aid and thankfully assist her from the ground, though she leaned heavily against his slim frame for support and to keep the dizziness from overcoming her. The words of the others would ring in her ears just as the blast would, but the orders of the old bouncer were enough to get her moving.
“Darling, we must be moving.” She managed in an attempt to encourage her slave onward. She was relying on him to get them out of there.
Word Count: 455 | Post: 1
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Post by SkyOfNewMoon on Jul 17, 2017 17:55:04 GMT -6
Nova | Courtesan
The King is dead. Huh. Nova couldn't say she felt much, mostly on account of the drugs and alcohol that was in her system. Ever since the pirate incident, Nova had numbed herself daily. She had taken some time off work but found she was getting poor, which meant no more substances... So back to work she went. Her fear and anger were taken out on her clients, most of which enjoyed. She gained more clients and in turn, more substances and so the cycle went. And then supposedly the King was murdered and everything was shut down.
After everything that happened, Nova spent a lot of her time sitting quietly next to the silent Sinead in a cloud of smoke. Just not opium for herself, the taste makes her think of blood. That's what the frickin' pirates wanted. She looked soulfully over to Hancock, the only other one she knew who experienced the same thing, he was more outwardly affected than anything. With a sigh she took a long sip of alcohol, only to have it rudely interrupted by a strong blast. What the fuck now.
Sinead's strong voice was yelling in her ear. They had to move. Nova didn't think much, she just silently followed the old pit fighter. She couldn't resist looking over at the pile of rubble that was once the busy entrance way to her work and home, not only that but she couldn't ignore the seeping blood coming from where one of her favoured coworkers and boss once stood. A small tear ran down her face as the emotions threatened to break loose. Nova frowned at herself. Now was not the time for a breakdown.
Post 1 | WC: 284
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Post by PaganStars on Jul 18, 2017 13:54:02 GMT -6
Hancock Hancock watched the smoke above him drift lazily and mix in with the various other clouds, slowly twirling his pipe and bringing it to his lips once more. He held it there, breathing in deeply and flaring his nostrils as he exhaled, closing his eyes and pushing his ears forward. He focused on one thing at a time; the comforting weight of Constance sitting beside him, Clythus standing and preparing to make tea or anything else that was requested, the deep breathing of each horse and the soft sounds they made as they let the smoke escape from their mouth. In Hancock's drug dazed mind, everything felt off by a tick, like the world he was in and the world those around him were in was off by a fraction of a second. Gods he hadn't been this high in a long while.
Hancock leaned forward as if to stand, yet as the entrance way exploded he was surged forward, his body twisting as he tried to right himself without harming anyone else, dabris flying every which way. Scrambling to his feet, he coughed as dust rained down on them, squinting his eyes as blood slowly dripped down from his forehead. Looking around at the others, Hancock tried to identify everyone, his eyes falling on the pile of rock and wood that was once the grand arch. His heart clenched, his ears pointing backwards as he swallowed thickly. Hancock backed up slowly, teeth bared as tears slowly rolled down his cheeks "shitshitshitshit shit holy fuck no you have got to be kidding me. Holy shit Octo no" He shook his head, not believing what has just happened and stood still, lost in his own world until he heard the others around him.
Hancock yelled in frustration before turning around and hurrying over to Connie, his eyes wide "you good? come on we have to get the hell out of here" his words were rushed, panicked. Hurrying forward, he skidded to a halt as Zuriel called for help. "Shit, Felix come on we need to get up" Hancock didn't know how bad he was hurt, his telekinesis hesitant to help him up. Hancock swallowed thickly, his mind still sluggish and struggling to catch up. Gods they were screwed.
Post 2 | 381
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Post by hey-stardust on Jul 18, 2017 21:34:52 GMT -6
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2 | 201SINEAD (GROUP NPC) | AODH | COMMONER
"You forgotten how to use a door, boy?" She barked, eyes narrowing as Eostre approached her and paused; seemingly holding onto the expectation she had some divine gift that would allow her to render time and space, spiriting them away from here if she only put a little effort in.
Sinead's slipped her tongue between her exposed teeth and ran it across the grooves in thought, eyeing the beams that now precariously held up the Pearl; tasting blood that was pooling in her nose and starting to drip onto the floorboards below. They couldn't stay here, but no one seemed to be in a hurry to leave, continuing to speak to one another like they were comforting a client through their first time.
With a resentful huff at being elected the leader (albeit silently), she sourced her now crumpled flask and drained what remained in a single swig, then tossed her once faithful friend onto the wreckage and staggered forward, balance still thrown off from the detonation (well, mostly). It was not worth trying to dig their way out, not when there was a perfectly viable exit through the common room via the kitchen...
They just had to get there first. coded by pinn @ thqhouston i have so many problems.
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Post by Disastercorn on Jul 19, 2017 1:09:51 GMT -6
CLYTHUS
"Clythus!"
Those words rocked him, breaking him of his frozen state as his breathing stated up again. The stallion, whose long front legs where streaked with blood, hurried to the blue hippocampus's side and let her use his shoulder to lean on. He was going off pure adrenaline now, making sure to keep in step with her as he took note of the blood over her face and eyes. They would all need help after this, if they ever get out of this alive...
As Sinead seemed to point them in the direction of kitchen, Clythus made sure to arch his neck over Nuala's, draping what was left of his mane over the mare's back and legs. If anything he was trying to be a shield for her should anything else threaten to come down or around them. His steps where surprisingly stable, considering his knees where bleeding. But he couldn't feel any pain from them. The silver slave was too focused on the task at hand.
The kitchen seemed to be mostly intact and the stallion placed himself towards the stoves, to keep Nuala towards the cupboards and sink. He did his best to be her rock, her shield and her crutch. She was mostly blind, he could sense that and led her with an calm controlled urgency he did not know he could posses. "Be mindful of the stoves, keep your distance in case there's a gas leak!" He called out, being one of the first to enter the kitchen. In other words don't shove, don't crowd, don't panic.
Word Count: 261 || Post #3
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Post by Gaybies on Jul 19, 2017 10:40:06 GMT -6
N U A L A♥Aodh Courtesan♥ You may not be her first, her last, or her only. More screaming. That’s what they needed. Nuala’s ears flicked back as she leaned heavily against the silver slave on which she relied. For a moment, her panic made her think herself blind, but of course this was not the case. The blood from the trauma to her head had run and continued to run into those amethyst eyes and blurred her vision. She just needed some water. What she wouldn’t do for some water... To just... sink to the bottom of the ocean and swim away from all this nonsense for a moment.
Those thoughts had no purpose in her mind now; however, as she felt heard the gruff sound of Sinead’s commands. Yes, the door... the door was the answer. She felt the pressure of Clythus’ neck over her own, the drape of those silken strands or what was left of them. For a moment she was confused, they weren’t moving towards the door and she hesitated as Clythus tried to usher her forward in a new direction. Where was he going? She decided then, she would trust him. She had to.
“The stoves...”
Oh... the kitchen. It made sense that they wouldn’t leave out the front door, where the blast had come from... duh. Nuala tucked her head and tried to wipe her eyes against Clythus’ chest in an effort to clear her vision some before turning to try and identify the other bodies that she really hoped had followed. Hancock’s words had concerned her, what had happened to Octavia? Who was alright? Who wasn’t? What the hell was happening...
Word Count: 262 | Post: 2
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Post by Sasha Arctic on Jul 23, 2017 14:37:25 GMT -6
Eostre
|| Stallion || 14.2 hh || Courtesan ||
Skidding to a stop beside the comforting form of Sinead the dainty stallion was taken aback by her cold words, he knew running to her was more than a weak and cowardly thing to do but it seemed like the only viable option his panicked mind had come up with in wake of the blast. Her words shoved his mind, breaking him loose of the iron grip fear had on his body. I seemed he had forgotten how to use a door since the one that was closest to them was now a pile of rubble and running through that was most likely certain death, whoever had bombed the entrance had to be out there if the villain hadn't already fled, Eos wasn't willing to make that gamble so it seemed the back door was the most viable option now. Shaking his thin head, causing his massive tangled mane of curls to bounce heavily, Eostre looked back to those he had so quickly abandoned and grimaced. Some were hurt, more than others or he was...speaking of which the stallion had yet to inspect his own coat for any injuries since the initial blast. The adrenaline in his veins had masked any other feeling in his body and while glancing over his shoulder Eos' eyes took in a long gash across his hips that ran down his left leg, crimson dripped from the wound and was slowly dyeing his white leg pink, blood pooled at his violet hoof from standing in one spot for more than a moment. The sight of his blood made the delicate stallion's stomach churn but he forced the contents of his stomach to stay where they were, for now, he had to get out of here before his body was littered with more wounds or he perished in the Pearl. He had to make it home...Lamis was waiting patiently for him and he couldn't abandon the sweet lumbering giant he called his. His eyes fell upon Felix and Zuriel, it seemed that little Felix was injured but Hancock and Araphine were there to help them, Eostre knew his thin body wouldn't be of help there, he didn't have the strength in his bones to carry the stallion if he wouldn't wake. Nuala had Clythus helping her to the back exit, albeit slowly and Eos decided to follow after them. His legs were unsteady below him, hooves slipping on the hardwood floors where blood was soaking into the boards and blood dripping down his leg. Clythus' words of a possible gas leak caused the stallion to step after them into the kitchen carefully, he hadn't died to the initial blast and he sure as hell wasn't going to die due to natural gas, his pride wouldn't allow it. His baby blue eyes fell upon Nuala as she seemed to be searching for those who were following behind them, blood dripped down her face and seemed to be obstructing her vision. Eos' tongue went dry as his heart dropped like a lead ball in his chest, had she not seen the entrance and...Octavia...Zipporah? "I'm here Nuala..." Was all the stallion could force from his cold trembling lips, he couldn't bring himself to tell her who wasn't going to be following them. She needed reassurance, all they needed were reassurance now in order to escape the Pearl. Once they were safe then he might be able to tell her what had happened to their mistress and fellow courtesan but not now, and maybe not even then...
Post 2 | Word Count: 590
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Post by mule-guts on Jul 24, 2017 19:49:57 GMT -6
Constance | Aodh | Courtesan2 | 293 Constance could feel small trickles of blood on various parts of her body where chunks of her home had scraped her hide. The bay bouncer’s panicked and distraught voice irritated her already frazzled ears, setting them back. “Yeah, yeah. I’m ok.” She spoke with a small rasp, responding to him. Hancock had already gone off to help Zuriel and his partner Felix, cute they were but not if they were dead. She shook off all remaining dust and debris, despite the pain that shot through her body. Her lilac eyes caught onto a small group following Sinead through the kitchen and another worrying about the well-being of each other. As nice as that was, this was just not the place right now. “Guys, c’mon.” She snorted at the remaining group with urgency as she started to follow the exiting equines. Her head remained low as she stepped carefully over loose rubble, making sure not to twist a damn ankle. Upon entering the probably dangerous kitchen, she glanced around checking structural integrity. Not like she would really know what to look for, but she tried anyway. Nothing immediate jumped out at her to mention to be careful of, so she ambled on close behind the group. Fear and anxiety filled her gut, worrying for the sake of her fellow workers and employees of The Pearl. With that in mind, a bottle of half used alcohol made itself known on their precarious way out. Without really thinking, she grabbed it with lavender teke and carefully trotted up past the other courtesan’s to Sinead’s side. Constance offered it over without a word, knowing that the ex-fighter preferred to have everything drowned in booze, but also as a thank you for caring for the workers’ frail asses. @nox
ulla [/quote]
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Post by Queerly on Jul 25, 2017 4:02:18 GMT -6
"I'm fine, Felix." He wasn't, but it didn't matter. Zuriel kept Felix's gaze, and wondered if he, too, looked afraid.
Araphine's face swam into focus. Zuriel couldn't understand her over the ringing in his ears, but he could surmise her intent. He wanted to tell her not to worry, that this was all a bad dream anyhow. It wasn't real, not really. But the body knew what the mind didn't want to face, and with a grunt, Zuriel pushed himself and the slight frame of his paramour upright.
His eyes fell on Hancock. The enforcer's face was measured grief and controlled panic. Zuriel had never seen him wear that expression. The absurdity of Hancock being afraid shattered his suspension of disbelief. He wasn't watching someone else's life fall apart; he was falling apart. His sister was dead, and his friends would be, too, if he wasted another second of their loyalty.
Zuriel's throat tightened with terror. The realization was not as helpful as it could have been. "We're behind you." He whispered, or said, or screamed. He wasn't sure. "Araphine, Hancock - keep going. You have to keep going."
He did not let his gaze stray to where his sister's hair lay tangled and matted with blood. His eyes focused on Felix, stayed upon him as he shifted his weight and forced the unicorn to look at him with a pinch of telekinesis. "We have to keep going."
The pair slipped stumbling into the kitchen just as Clythus shouted his warning. Beneath his hooves, the wood creaked. It felt as though something were trying to push through, and Zuriel was not so dazed that he couldn't fathom the likely assumption.
"She's awake."
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Post by SkyOfNewMoon on Jul 25, 2017 5:13:08 GMT -6
Nova;Aodh | Courtesan shit Still in a trance, Nova blindly followed behind the group as they were directed to the kitchen. It would seem a few of her fellow courtesans were bearing injuries, none of course as dire as those of her boss and friend. She looked over to Zuriel, oh that poor boy. Her heart broke a little for him as she couldn't even fathom losing one half of your soul. But those were thoughts for later. The slave mentioned gas, before she could even ponder that Zuriel made her aware of the warping floorboards. Her mind flashed back to when they were sent underground and found the mighty beast below. Gods that felt like a lifetime ago. "She's awake." A King dead and knowing the Courtesan's luck a fucking mother dragon was about to burst out of the ground. "I think now's the time to throw caution to the wind and get the fuck out of here, fast." The dun called to her family.
Nova's comfortable life had been shaken a lot recently, so why not chuck the likely event of an ancient dragon choosing now to erupt from the ground. Her world was changing, much to quick and Nova feared she was being left behind. Suddenly she felt very alone. Her goat was upstairs and she prayed he would be good. Just this once. Her mind ignored her own words of advice and Nova could feel herself freezing in place once they were through the kitchen. Every possible fear crept into her mind and she prayed to Ignacio that if she was going to die, he would make her descent swift.
WC: 276 | Post #2
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Post by empyre on Jul 27, 2017 21:00:04 GMT -6
Felix || Commoner || Status: *looks into the camera*
A feeling of sweet relief filled Felix when Zuriel confirmed that he was okay, though he doubted the same could be said for himself. His head throbbed, and his legs shook as he scrambled to stand up. He wasn't so worried about crushing his mate, his body mass was meager at best, but he knew with a deepening sense of dread that they needed to get out of here. He knew in the back of his mind that someone had died, that Zipporah was gone and Octavia as well --but his thoughts were cloudy and the world around him was muffled as though a sheet had been thrown over his head and cotton stuffed into his ears.
Zuriel was a beacon of clarity in the chaos, and he stayed by his love's side, mentally pushing as the fuzziness attempting to consume him. The contact of Zuriel's side against his own was grounding and kept him pushing forward to the kitchen. When the ground just about heaved under him, Felix stumbled, but managed to stay on his hooves, barely catching Zuriel's words in the process.
"The dragon?" He asked, though he already knew the answer, his ears pressing back in defeat. He could just not catch a break. "This is going to end horribly." He muttered. After all, even if they all got out alive, there will still be a full-sized dragon free in Valore. What then?
post 2 || words 236
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Post by hey-stardust on Jul 29, 2017 8:40:50 GMT -6
pic is for attention
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Post by hey-stardust on Jul 29, 2017 8:42:33 GMT -6
♖
3 | 320SINEAD (GROUP NPC) | AODH | COMMONER
Slow as they were, the courtesans had gotten one thing right today, and that She indeed, was awake.
At Zuriel’s warning, tiles began to crack beneath their hooves, shards breaking off and scattering as the pressure became too much to bear. The ground before the common room fell away as a colossal, hooked claw broke through it -followed quickly by it’s successors-, tearing through the floor as if it were nothing more than cardboard.
Black smoke began to fill what was left of the kitchen, and a snout burnished with gold pressed through the gap, showing off an entanglement of jagged teeth. Sinead reared, spinning away from the dragon’s maw and shoulder checking Constance out of harm’s way; the well-intentioned bottle of whiskey forgotten and left to shatter as they scrambled back the way they had come.
Thinking fast, the old pit fighter contemplated the very few means of escape they had left before the behemoth tore the entirety of the Pearl down…
She could only hope none of them were afraid of heights.
“UPSTAIRS, GET TO THE BALCONY!”
Loping back to what remained of the opium den, Sinead’s gaze fell upon their fallen patrons, and began digging.
Calling upon Kaia’s gift, furls of green smoke began to wrap around the bodies, making them shudder and jerk against the re-animation as they were pulled from the rubble. Perhaps she could give them more time to get away, creating a distraction... Such a feat had worked for her before, hadn’t it?
When her old friends' vacant eyes met hers however, Sinead lost her grip on things. She let go of the blessing completely, corpses falling to the floor with a sickening thud. With a heart hammering that had nothing to do with exertion, Sinead backed into a wall, hindquarters crumpling as the memories long buried resurfaced in her mind, and left her paralysed.
TLDR: there’s a dragon after ur ass and sinead may or may not be re-animating corpses in the background to aid in your escape. have fun! coded by pinn @ thqhey just wondering but are u fucking kidding me.
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Post by Disastercorn on Jul 30, 2017 1:16:10 GMT -6
CLYTHUS
Having been a few yards behind the scarred strong female, Clythus felt the very structure around him shake and crumble and twist as if reality itself was molding around them. His eyes fell wide, watching the larger then life claws plunge through the floor and steal away the common room from in front of them. He didn't linger longer then that, not needing to see the rest of the arm or the nose that rose up from what he had once thought was solid ground.
"MOVE!" His voice rivaled Sineads as the smaller mare shoved the purple horned mare and forced them back the way they had come. Nuala he ushered with hurried frantic steps, using his taller lengthy body to guide her around the corners and make sure her footing stayed true. He would not have his mistress fall and become dragon food. Luckily most of the pearl was build with extravagant archways and wide corridors, enabling multiple horses to enter the different rooms at the same time. As he and nuala neared the stairs he took to one side, allowing other horses to hurry up past them as he took to being the hippocampus's eyes. At the top he rounded the corner and headed for the balcony door, doing all he could to keep his mistress safe and out of harms way.
Word Count: 223 || Post #4
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Post by Gaybies on Jul 31, 2017 11:56:26 GMT -6
N U A L A Aodh Courtesan
......
Nuala clung quietly to her slave’s side, her vision still obscured by the flow of blood from her temple. Oh what she wouldn’t do for a wet rag or cloth of some sort right now. Of course, here and now, there was no time to find such a thing. She blinked and shifted to look as the loud rumbling of the dragon tearing through the floorboards and up through the Pearl pulled her attention that way. They were royally screwed; she knew it, a dragon? What in Ignacio’s name were they going to do with that? Sinead’s command rang loud over the commotion and so did similar commands from her slave. Who knew he could be so loud? So commanding? The quiet lad truly had a warrior’s heart, at least in this situation. She was thankful for it. Nuala felt herself being dragged along and guided by herself and stuck ever closer to his side, carefully placing her steps even as the building trembled around them. She stumbled slightly as the two climbed the stairs, but the adrenaline pumping through her veins wouldn’t let her linger. As the two reach the top and rounded the corner, she felt a brush of fresh air across her face. The windows, the balcony... one of them would provide the exit they needed. She scrambled towards where she remembered the balcony door was. She was going to jump, one way or another, she was getting out of the Pearl...
... ... Word Count:245 Post 3
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Post by PaganStars on Jul 31, 2017 20:57:20 GMT -6
Hancock Stumbling after the others into the kitchen, Hancock let out a sigh as the dust settled for but a moment and everyone took a chance to catch their breath. Flicking his ears back, Hancock slowly worked his way around the others, stumbling and leaning ever so slightly into the tall counters. His head was pounding and the blood that dripped down his face was sticky and felt wrong in his fur. Looking back through the doorway, Hancock nearly jumped out his skin as the floor erupted and the snout of a dragon burst through, gold and brilliant. Well to Hancock there was nothing brilliant about the damned beast.
Eyes wide and mouth gaping, Hancock quickly shut his trap and nodded at Sinead. Beginning to hurry and shove the rest of the courtesans and slaves into the stairwell. Hancock hesitated as he looked back at Sinead, his heart dropping as he realized what she was doing. Pinning his ears back, he also realized that she was probably feeling the same way as everyone else but was just damned well at doing it. Running over to her, he shoved into her shoulder lightly, trying to snap her out of it “HEY! Sinead I knew it's fucking hard right now but we need that distraction.” He snapped his jaw shut and glanced at the snout before turning back to the stairwell once more. They were both going to have to share a hard drink after this.
Returning the stairwell, he quickly made his way up with the others and made for the large open balcony, skidding to a halt and staring down at the cobbled streets “This is going to hurt”
Post 3 | 282
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Post by Disastercorn on Jul 31, 2017 23:09:52 GMT -6
CLYTHUS
There wasn't much time to think about anyone else, much less think in general. As his hooves neared the balcony, he could feel the floor heave and creak under his feet. Ears pinned, eyes looking down at the cobblestone beneath them. It was a single story jump but it was still a feat in itself. With a small breath the stallion looked down at Nuala. There was no other way to protect her. She would be hurt in the jump and he couldn't have that! Could never have that. She was already hurt enough. Swallowing hard Clythus bent down and moved to pick up the mare from under her legs, having her belly on his beck and each leg above his own. Without giving the mare time to think, Clythus jumped.
The landing was harder then he expected, legs folding in under themselves as his chin smacked the pavement. A loud CRACK was heard as bone snapped and gave way under the weight of the full. Luckily it was only one leg, but it was enough to cause the male to cry out. Nuala would have probably slid to the side from the impact as Clythus collapsed onto his side. But his adrenaline was still too raw, to strong, to feel any pain yet. Panting he nosed the mare, helping her to her feet as his right front leg dangled from the middle of the foreleg. Limping forward, he loped on three legs, ushering Nuala forward and to freedom, unsure if she was still blind or not. With his head swimming he staggered often, surely suffering from a concussion to add to it all but they had made it out and where alive.
Word Count: 283 || Post #5
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Post by SkyOfNewMoon on Aug 1, 2017 0:46:00 GMT -6
Nova;Aodh | Courtesan shit Nova's moment of freeze felt like an hour but must've only been a second. Next thing she knew, that goddamn dragon was trying to break its way through the ground. Her mind flashed back to when they were underground, boy that dragon seemed a lot nicer underneath the Pearl when it was in a deep sleep. Sinead began yelling for them to head up to the balcony. Where were they headed from the balcony? Oh crap. Her heart started racing as she bolted upstairs with the rest of them. Her eyes became scary wide as she glimpsed Sinead literally raising the dead out of the rubble. Seeing two close friends whom were just lost to her suddenly standing back in the Pearl but uncannily lifeless. It made her nervous but she understood what was trying to be done. Trying to push those thoughts aside, Nova took off up the stairs. She paused by her room and called for her goat. Charlie looked up at her then followed along, not at all phased by the sound of everything breaking downstairs. She tried to channel her goats emotions and calm down and think things through. But as she made it to the balcony, everything came rushing back. She was back on the verge of the boat with death on one side and terrifying risk on the other. Nova watched as Clythus took Nuala on his back and took the leap. She heard the sickening thud as his leg took the fall. She almost vomited every drop of alcohol she had consumed in three months at that very noise. "I can't do it. Hell no, mother dragon just take me."
WC: 279 | Post #3
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Post by Sasha Arctic on Aug 1, 2017 22:51:20 GMT -6
Eostre
|| Stallion || 14.2 hh || Courtesan ||
His comforting words to Nuala fell on deaf ears as the sound of masonry crumbling met his own curved ears, a long golden muzzle greeted his crystal blue eyes and caused the dainty stallion to jump, so it wasn't a mere bomb thrown by a vagrant that was destroying the building like he had first assumed but a dragon deciding it was time to 'rise and shine' straight through the Pearl! His sly tongue felt unusually dry in the wake of a dragon but internally he was cursing his luck, praying to Ignacio that he would be spared and screaming 'shit' over and over. Following the clear orders of Sinead and Clythus the dainty stallion fell in line beside his fellow courtesans as they made their way towards the balcony. On their pass through the Pearls front room once more the stallion caught a glimpse of Sinead and her 'distraction', the sight of recently lost friends made the stallion's stomach roll again, threatening to empty its contents on the stairs. The sound of Hancock's voice followed the stallion as he continued up the stairs, trying to get as far away from the horror of the first floor. The image of reanimated corpses, of his friends, burned their way into Eos' brain, their lifeless eyes burrowing into his own. He would have trouble sleeping after today...if he survived. Skidding to a stop at the top of the stairs Eos watched as Clythus took Nuala upon his back and leaped fearlessly from the first story balcony and the sickening snap of the courageous slaves' leg was the tipping point for the stallion. Eos took but a moment to excuse himself and turned from the rest of the panicked horses, unable to choke down vomit anymore he let his stomach have its wish. Choking for air between heaves the stallion's mind spun, how had everything gone so wrong? Would he make it home? All he had to do was leap from the balcony...terror filled his veins. He was going to break something in the fall, he knew that all too well and even though it was a simple choice between death and breaking a bone the stallion found himself hesitating much like Nova. The mare's words washed over his ears and caused something to stir within the dainty stallion, forcing his body to cease its cowardice. Quickly he wiped the remainder of his fear from his lips with a torn section of curtain and pushed back towards the mare Nova. "We have to Nova." The usually soft sweet stallion barked at the mare, he wouldn't allow another friend to perish in this hell the once sensual Pearl had become. "I won't let another friend perish to this damned dragon. Let's go...NOW!" The stallion pushed the mare to the edge before throwing his own body off, knowing she would land safer if she jumped of her own volition the stallion didn't force Nova any further than the edge. The fall felt like eternity but abruptly his body found the unfeeling cobblestone, the pain that surged through his veins caused the breath he had been taking in get caught in his throat. He couldn't breathe for a moment after the initial crash of his left side on the stones, unable to land on his feet because of his lame back left leg the stallion had twisted through the air and landed ungracefully on his side. He could feel ribs break and crack on impact, his bones in his hip and shoulder splintering under the strain, once air found his lungs again the stallion coughed up blood, the crimson splashed across the dull stones next to his curved face. Legs shaking the stallion tried to force his body to stand but found himself too weak, the pain and fear in his veins had sapped the strength he had left. Lamis...I need you...Lamis...was all that ran through the stallion's mind, a single wish and plead to live replaying over and over.
Post 3 | Word Count: 669
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Post by Gaybies on Aug 4, 2017 20:04:50 GMT -6
N U A L A Aodh Courtesan
......
Everything was happening so fast. She heard the sound of others as they crowded in around the balcony, each judging the distance down towards the relative safety of the ground. Before she could even start to hesitate she felt herself lifted, pulled up and carefully placed across the back of her slave. What in the world was he doing? Oh... dear Ignacio, no... She felt him move before she had time to beg him not to. The two soared from the balcony towards the ground and for once in her life, Nuala wished she was a Pegasus. They met the ground hard and the sickening crack was not lost on Nuala’s ears, nor was the ground as it came to meet her sliding figure as the impact knocked her from Clythus’s back.
She was glad, perhaps, that she couldn’t see, now that they were on the ground because that crack... it couldn’t have been good. She felt as Clythus nosed her and quickly scrambled back to her feet, this time making a point to stick close to his side for his sake and not simply her own. Her vision was still obscured, it would be until she was given the chance to rinse the blood from her eyes and lashes, but now that they were outside and the world was brightly lit by mid-morning sunlight, well... she could guess well enough as to where they were and where they needed to go. Nuala paused as she heard the sound of more bodies coming down from the balcony and silently said to prayer for all of their safety.
She lingered, but at Clythus’ urging, finally set off down the road towards safety, well... as safe as one could get with a dragon in the city...
... ... Word Count:294 Post 4
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