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Post by Queerly on Jan 16, 2016 21:07:21 GMT -6
The night is calling, and your god hungers for his bride. With the Vindicators occupied in Eithne, there will be no interruptions. Go forth and find your victim, your prize, and make this a night none will soon forget.
Event Journal// Located Here
Premise Journal// Located Here
Hello Starborn, and welcome to Plot 002: The Blackness of Darkness! We have so much planned for your little wanderers, and we hope you enjoy the Chapter as much as we enjoyed making it for you! 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 posts.
- Five posts is the minimum to earn the event AP/CS/FVR rewards. After you've posted five times, you receive 1 AP for every post after!
- Your team is precious. Don't let anyone feel left behind! Try to interact with everyone. <3
- Have fun! Even if your pony isn't. 8'D
Once the team leader has posted, you may begin posting as well! |
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Post by RusticForrest on Jan 18, 2016 15:01:33 GMT -6
[ Genesis | Ascendant ]
As always upon entering the frozen lands of Onea, the blood-colored mare was reminded of the past. This place held many memories. Those she wished to remember. Those she wished to forget. Those she used to drive her ambitions. This day, however, was one filled with particular excitement, a deep seated lust for the blood of the innocent, a lust to fulfill her promises to Digend, to honor the horse she called her god. At her sides were her fellow cultists, cultivators of chaos, anarchy flowing thick through their veins, as it flowed through hers. They were her brethren, and the flesh of her flesh. Her two children, Arik and Kira stood nearby, and it was on them that she kept an especially watchful gaze, though her amber eyes missed none among them.
Ever watchful, the Mother of Darkness let none slip through her grasp. It was her duty after all, as the Ascendant to keep watch over her children. They had to be guided, taught, and given the proper dose of bloodlust as needed. And tonight, that would be satisfied. Genesis turned to those surrounding her, the empty vial hanging around her neck swinging with her, a reminder of what was to be done. "My children, it is time. Digend calls out to me, he seeks his next bride. You all know, you have all seen in the past, that this night is one of great glory. One will be chosen, one will be sent to his eternal side, one will be forever honored as the Bride of Digend. She will not realize the glory she has been appointed with, and tonight we will take part in a glorious chase! In place of Digend, we will pursue her. We will bring her into his eternal embrace. Let the hunt begin."
And the mare moved forwards, a silken stride to her legs, head held high, and blood pumping fiercely. It was to be a glorious night.
[ WC: 330 || Post: 1 ]
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Post by SagaWolf on Jan 18, 2016 16:57:49 GMT -6
Fletcher | Cultist Post 1 Word Count: 398
The lands of Onea had always called to Fletcher, although he had never bothered to understand what pulled him north time and time again. Perhaps his subconscious simply associated the lands with the Bloodletting and the thrills of the hunt, but whatever the reason he had become quite familiar with the home of the War Forged. The Night of Bloodletting was undoubtedly the best night of the entire year and one the experienced cultist looked forward to immensely. Of course he lived his life to serve Digend and spread his chaos everywhere, but there was still something cozy about the entire blood-hungry family coming together to hunt the bride and send her to their Lord's side. To Fletcher it didn't even matter if he got a taste of her blood, simply racing along behind her was enough to thrill him. Fletcher was stripped of any paint and accessories, standing in his natural grey dappled coat with his wavy mane and tail flowing freely. His hide was glossy as always, hooves once polished to a sheen but worn after the long travel, something he hardly cared about this night. No, he was far too focused on the divine, bloody beauty that was the Ascendant, Genesis. Her glorious voice reverberated through his being, and filled him with such energy that he could hardly stand still, shifting his weight from side to side. Oh how he longed to run now, to tear across the land and catch sight of their prey. His white breath streamed from flared nostrils while his blue eyes were locked on his leader. As Genesis' speech came to an end and she began moving, Fletcher was quick to file in close behind her and her children. He supported Genesis in everything she did, and she was quite possibly the only equine to whom he completely dropped his guard. He'd do anything for her and longed to be acknowledged at every opportunity, to be praised. His devotion stretched to the twins, Kira and Arik, dark, dangerous and oh so exciting. For lack of a physical Digend, Fletcher projected his devotion onto the trio. It was difficult to keep his energy harnessed, finding himself high-stepping and tossing his head every other minute, but after a while he managed to get it all under control. It wouldn't do to scare off the poor bride simply because of a snort. |
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Post by thewhiteisland on Jan 18, 2016 20:35:16 GMT -6
Lars - Cultist
Post 1
WC - 414
The first snow of winter was something Lars had come to greatly appreciate above all else. During this time, he would join his fellow cultists on an exhilarating chase, a chase filled to the brim with blood and terror. Digend calls for his bride to be brought to his side for eternity, a call Lars is more than happy to answer time and time again. He had once offered his own mother to his dark Lord, and was one of the most chaotic, beautiful and bloody events he had ever participated in. He loved it.
As with every year, Lars had rid himself of his beloved mane, leaving only torn skin and bits of hair. This year he went a bit further. His daily routine was kicked up a few notches; the stallion would push his body to its limits by stress testing himself with excessive exercise and fasting. As a result, Lars has become more "out of it" than usual, finding that his ability to control his body has deminished ever so slightly.
Genesis, the Ascendent, glorious bloody coat glistening, spoke to the group. Lars' eyes traveled numerous times over her, she was everything he had ever heard. She was perfect. As her speech concluded, Lars studied the group, and immediately his eyes locked on his old mentor, Fletcher. The two spent their fair share of time together, but Lars only considered the grey beast a coworker and decided to avoid any conversation with him.
The hunt began with Genesis leading the way, followed by her odd children and the stallion's old mentor. Lars fell in line after them with his nose high in the hair, trying to pick up the scent of his Lord's new bride. A branch cracked under his hooves, momentarily distracting the already occupied stallion. He sniffed the broken branch, finding that it had punctured his front right heel, sending crimson into the snow. Lars consumed the bloody snow, only to replace it with more blood, this time from his nose. A bloody nose was always a sign of Digend's presence, in Lars' case. The overwhelming flood of love and devotion for his Lord filled Lars' head, and he was blinded momentarily. This sent the stallion into a rage of sorts, and he threw his body into a decaying tree, toppling it. He stood, his right side covered in a flurry of little nicks which lightly bled. The stallion returned to the group and lightly chuckled, "Menecing appearance; check."
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Post by DawnsComing on Jan 20, 2016 23:52:47 GMT -6
The Twins | Cultists
Dawnscoming//
There was a stillness in the air, chilled by the cold breeze that flowed from the mountain peaks and wound down through the forests. Icy tendrils touched their spines and nipped at their shoulders with ever intensifying force, sending spikes of pain surging up through their necks and down their legs. It was a good feeling, one that the twins reveled in as they were reminded that their heart still beat in rhythm. Kira grinned, forcing composure as she eyed the deep, dark forest. Kira had always been the most eager, the most impatient of the two; her still, tense legs could not help but belay the intense itch to pounce upon her prey. Arik could sense this, as he too felt his sisters desire. Their minds entangled as one entity. But the proud stallion was more controlled, more patient, and so he settled his own gaze upon his beloved mother.
Thankfully, their wait would not be long. As Genesis finished her prayers of thanks to the Dark Lord, the cultists were unleashed upon the world, and one mare was slated to die. For they knew this land as well as it's blasphemous denizens, the cultists, and especially the twins were well attuned to the Onean forest and her myriad of twists. Oh- Kira and Arik knew these woods like they knew each other, its every breath of life and limb having touched their sacred (if only to one another) skin.
Genesis was the first to lead the way at a casual trop. At her rear were her children, the twins mirroring each others step with quick precision, and matching their mother's pace as if to reiterate their bond. They did not bother to glance back at the others who followed, nor did they flinch at the noise behind them. But Kira's impatience was only growing, her body itching to make a strike. Red eye's passed a silent request to her double whose only reply was a light shake of the head. 'Not yet,' came the wordless reply- and the sister relented. They would make the kill together or not at all. It was the only way, and no less would be acceptable.
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Post by Queerly on Jan 21, 2016 21:18:02 GMT -6
The Twins / Cultists
Time Lapse: Two Hours
Queerly//
The night had become deep and treacherously cold. Swollen with potential unsatisfied, the twins had shifted into a state of restlessness. Arik was not as impulsive, not as impatient as his sister, but even he grew weary of anticipation. The pair longed for blood on their coats and meat between their teeth; they desired the revelry of savagery. Yet there had appeared neither hide nor hair of a potential victim, no bride to offer up in twisted devotion. Feeding off one another's agitation, Arik clicked his teeth as Kira's tail lashed like an irate cat. It is taking too long, Kira's eyes said, a glimmer of rubies in the darkness. Arik concurred with a dip of his chin, and swung his gaze to their mother. She, too, was no more than a blooded phantom, her silhouette a study in grace- and stalking hunger. They followed her in diligent silence, until. Until.
" Mother." Kira said, and Arik was already lifting his head, nostrils flared against the wind, picking up a scent. " Mother," Kira said again, " To the east." Her voice was trembling neither with cold nor fear, but an unquenched thirst. And as Genesis took to the tip, so too did her cultists slither after her, the twins moving in a natural sync. They flew through the forests, shadows of ghosts.  You have spotted your prey. Go to them.
Move to Vagabond Plot 001: Wandering Stars!
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