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Post by ThatDenver on Jan 9, 2018 17:02:27 GMT -6
MILAN
He was honestly a little surprised the young slave was so in on the gossip – but then again if his owner was invited to come here, perhaps that was no be expected. Milan himself had never shared much with his slaves before he got Bale, as they had been mere stock to him. Now the thought of it left a bitter taste on his tongue, so he instead focused on Bale, keeping their two bodies close together.
The boy’s question received a shift, polite answer from Bale. Milan looked at his lover, and nodded slightly, proud of the rare display of tact on the part of the man. Bale was as handsome as they came, certainly, but not always the smartest, especially not in social situations that required any amount of finesse.
That much had already been on display this very night, and Milan was happy the biggest excitement seemed to be done and over with.
“We are not Eminents”, he decided to clarify, as Bale had failed to do so: “Bale works at Vatros as an Attendant, and I’m an Artisan.”
He was happy to not have to introduce himself as a Slave Trader anymore.
As Bale seemed to be handling his own situation well enough, Milan let his eyes travel, while still keeping his head resting against the kirin’s comforting presence. He watched Cyndane engage with some of the other guests and smiled to himself. For such an important person, she sure seemed friendly. Like a genuinely good host.
Word count: 251
Post #5
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Post by corruptedcorvid on Jan 12, 2018 0:15:01 GMT -6
[ Bellatrix ]
Bellatrix paused as she was about to head out, maybe to see if there was a garden or something interesting she could escape to, but she was desperate enough to poke her nose up and peek around to see if Rayne somehow had been invited to the stupid party. In the end, she was always disappointed. Just her luck that she got invited without her best friend and she had to put up with the amount of time being wasted from her life. The beach would have been more fun, as would have been the trouble and the mess.
Besides, Rayne would have popped in already if she had been around to begin with. The pegasus wouldn’t have avoided coming to her if she knew she was there… would she? The mare wrinkled her nose at the thought, knowing her friend wouldn’t do that to her. She definitely would have come and saved her ass from such a boring night.
She sighed, glancing towards the doors that she saw fit for an escape and then decided maybe she could go snatch up some food to eat. Surely she had to find someone who was interesting enough to waste her time with, unless these were all just boring Nobles and people who drooled over the Kirin like he was really something so special. It made her want to roll her eyes and knock everyone in the head, especially that Juliet who made her want to gag.
She turned herself back around and made her way through some of the people in her way, scooting past her and moving towards the table that was covered in drinks and snacks. She wasn’t particularly hungry at that given moment, but what was a better way to pass the time? If the slaves could do it, surely she could as well.
A plate was snatched up and she started putting different kinds of food neatly onto it, popping one into her mouth here and there until her plate was filled decently. Food wasn’t exactly her favourite thing, but if she was at a party, why not take advantage of the free things being offered? If she had a saddlebag, she could even shove some in there and take the rest of it home or to Rayne so they could snack on it and laugh about her sad experience at this party. If only.
Word Count: 398 | Post #3 |
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Post by blackmetalvalkyrie on Jan 14, 2018 22:46:04 GMT -6
Beau | Aodh | Noble
By now Beau's vision was more than a little blurry. He hadn't had that much to drink, but his body was small and he was too young to have built up a tolerance. Stars danced in his eyes and a dreamy smile grew across his lips. He kept his balance, but only because all four of his legs were spread further apart than normal. When Juliet reappeared with her tall sun colored pit fighter, he hiccuped and stumbled a little closer to the mare. "This stuff tastes really good..hic..and it's all bubbly..hic..in the best way." giggled the boy as he swished his tail for more balance. He steered clear of Bothor's path, for the stallion was much bigger than he and the sheer bulk of the other was intimidating to say the least. Even in his intoxicated state. However he wasn't able to control his body movements as well as he would've liked if he was sober and fell into the stallion's shoulder.
"I-I'm sorry, Sir." whimpered the child. Beau's emotions were running high under the influence, he couldn't really help but blurt out his thoughts. "I-I just really m-miss my mom and dad." A sniffle shook his frame as he took the last sip of the liquid in his glass.
Word Count: 215
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Post by Ehrendi on Jan 18, 2018 4:59:18 GMT -6
 AdrianServile Slave
"Oh," Adrian stammered. "I just...assumed you were." Because surely a kirin and anyone associated with a kirin were bound to be nobles...weren't they? He glanced between the two, wondering but quickly shook it off as Bale responded and if it were possible Adrian would have had stars in his eyes. "That is...amazing. Incredible! You are so lucky, oh my gosh what I would give to have a chance like that." He gushed, almost forgetting his place as his mind began moving. His cheeks warmed, wondering how much he should say...of all the equines here, he would trust the kirin to understand the most. "I tried once...I didn't get very far and this-" he raised his wings, giving the chains jingle, "was the result." Adrian looked away, embarrassed to admit his failure or what might have been seen as a crime, if they were under different circumstances. Adrian looked at them both and took a deep breath, ready to ask more questions when Bale cut him off. His eyes widened and his mouth slowly shut.
The Vatros Sanctum? How would he pull that one off? Juliet rarely let him leave her side as it was and even in this crowd he knew she had eyes on him. The light slowly faded from his eyes, but he tried to hide his disappointment. "I...will try." He sounded doubtful. Right now he couldn't imagine a way he might be able to go there by himself. Unless...he proved to Juliet that she could trust him. Even if it was for a short while. The very thought made him want to scream, but...here was Bale. A slave who had met Ignacio and had been turned into a kirin to be freed of the chains he had been forced to wear. Adrian could only dream of the day that his chains broke and he could finally use his wings to fly. Feeling a little more hopeful and determined than before, he looked at Bale and Milan and nodded. "I will."
Whether it was his paranoia or not, Adrian knew that Juliet would be looking for him. With a final glance at those beautiful golden scales, and soft sad eyes of the kirin's companion, Adrian disappeared into the crowd to look for his master.
...  ... Word Count: 376 Post 4
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Post by striaga on Jan 18, 2018 21:08:21 GMT -6
C A E S A R
Once she'd been dismissed by Juliet, Caesar had turned and made her away quietly. The mule didn't feel at ease; she never would here. It wasn't the sort of place she wanted to be.
It made her feel sick. She wasn't built for it. Sure, Caesar could be a flower on the wall, sprouting and growing and plucking secrets from the ears of others, but...she lagged, listless. Adrian was off making friends, and Caesar knew that she was supposed to bring Adrian to Juliet, but she didn't really want to do so. Part of Caesar pitied him. He had her attention, Juliet's attention, in ways he didn't deserve. It made Caesar want to give him time,
and slowly, she did indeed sidle close, but there was nothing else to do. She didn't dare approach anyone else.
They'd look down on her. In Caesar's experience, the upper crust tended to be the worst about the issue of slavery.
Part of her wondered if she could reach out and make a friend on the underground here, but there appeared to be no such horse around. It was disappointing. Juliet wasn't too bad, but Caesar did sometimes wonder...
But, eventually, she took her chance and weaved through the crowd, dipping her head to Adrian and smiling at him. "Enjoying the party?" Her long ears flicked. The look in her eye told him enough: that Caesar herself wasn't.
The scarred mare didn't feel like she belonged in such beautiful things, this night. She never did, but especially not now. Her head turned, and she sighed. "...Juliet told me to find you." There was an apology there.
Caesar didn't often talk, but her words told enough: she was sorry for having to bring him back. She licked at her lip--"Juliet's over there. I can show you." If allowed, she'd lead Adrian along, help him through the crowd, bring him to Juliet.
WC: 316| Post 2 |
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Post by Disastercorn on Jan 20, 2018 19:24:46 GMT -6
  JULIET
Just as she had thought, the young Eminent had had a touch too much. With a soft chuckle, her long delicate leg raised, brushing her knee softly over his cheek before hushing the child softly. "Oh darling... Shhh it's ok. Don't be sad. Today is a good day. A day to have fun. And from how you're feeling I know you feel good, don't you." She cooed to the darker colored male. Mane tumbled forward, bouncing along her finely carved neck and dished head to settle over the young noble as she drew him gently in for a hug.
"Bolthor, please, lead the way to one of those cushions over there. Eminent Beau needs some time off his hooves." Following the large pit fighter, she glanced around the room once more, trying to take note of where her other slaves had ended up. Oh how she wished Butler was here. He was always the most put together of her slaves and knew exactly what she needed when she needed it. Supporting the young colt to the pillows, a soft graceful chuckle left her as she first laid down and then gently tried to help the young one lay down beside her.
"There my dear... Isn't this nice? Why don't you rest your head on my knees, I'm sure a rest sounds nice, doesn't it?" Voice continued to coo, pouring forth with almost a sing song like tone to it. "Bolthor Darling, why don't you make yourself comfortable. I'm sure Adrian and Caesar will be along shortly. I saw them but a moment ago." All the while her Teke played gently with Beau's hair, knowing he needed to sleep off the effects of the booze.
Word Count: 290 | Post #4 |
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Post by Deleted on Jan 20, 2018 20:08:08 GMT -6
The gelding's ears pinned back, his eyes narrowing as he felt something tiny crash into his shoulder. He took in a deep breath to help stabilize his irritation, his head dipping down as tears started to trickle from the colt's eyes. Rolling his eyes as the little one blabbered, the pit fighter flicked his attention to Juliet as she recommended he lead the way to the couches.
"Tough shit." His voice rumbled quietly to Beau. Everyone had a time when they missed their parents, even someone as cold hearted as him. Did he whine about it? No.. even when intoxicated.
He picked up his head and straightened his posture, his jaw working on his bit as he led his way through the crowd toward the corner couches and pillows. His narrowed glaze flickered to anyone who stood in his way, his lips parting in a smirk as they shuffled out of his way. Parties werent really his thing, but bullying his way through a crowd certainly was.
He waited for Beau and Juliet to get comfortable first before settling down on his own, keeping his hooves tucked close to him so he could spring up if he needed to. He ignored the pillows and the cushions and anything soft, settling on the ground against a wall so he could keep an eye on Juliet and those around him.
He never was one to chose a soft landing. |
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Post by striaga on Jan 21, 2018 12:58:50 GMT -6
C A E S A R
The half-faced mare flicked her ears as she approached Juliet and Beau and Bolthor. The young man looked to be drunk, and Caesar's ears twitched; she didn't show the laughter on her face, but she did hope the rich boy would be incredibly hung over the next morning. He, like all the other Eminents, had never really had to work for what he had. Just born to it. Didn't have it go withered between his metaphorical fingertips.
Her head tilted, and she saw the way Juliet laid down, the closeness of Beau; ah. That was the game. Get him close. Get him friendly. A hook, in the young man, so he'd feel indebted later, if games were played right. Caesar pretended to be a fool, but she was smart. Not as smart as all, but smart enough.
"...here," Caesar said, head raising slightly. "Here." Caesar let her eye close for a second, the bloody-flank red eye sliding from view before opening again. The party ought to be over soon. Caesar was looking forward to it. Then she'd get to rest. When her eye opened again, the mule turned her head and began to listen to the crowd, going back to being menacing but silent.
WC: 204 |Post 3 |
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Post by Queerly on Jan 22, 2018 5:19:24 GMT -6
The King She digs her nails into her naked chest; miles of veins fan out like a road map
She pulls back the skin to show her ribs that twinkle like shooting stars
The hall is warm with friendly presence and idle chatter. Beneath the lively tones there is a clink of glass and the consistent hum of the villa’s many water features. The night shapes itself well. You would have remembered it fondly even had she not appeared. The hall reverberates. As a city built upon hot water springs and violent geysers, Haven is not unaccustomed to the earth shaking, but this one is significant enough that it grinds the party to a curious halt. It is not merely the magnitude that deviates from the norm. A feeling has permeated the room, intangible but distinct, like the electric moment before the storm hits. Some swear they taste ozone on their teeth. It happens. Thunder cracks without lightning, and she comes, appearing wholly in a blink and you aren’t quite sure how it happened, how someone can be there when they were not, just a moment ago. It shouldn’t be possible and yet she steps into reality as though some divine omnipresence had pulled back the veil to reveal her, whispering sorry, so sorry - we missed our cue. You have never met her, but you recognize her instantly, for she stands with her own portrait framed at her back. Silver and gold, her body is shrouded in ore vein scales and her antlers rise like golden spires above her brow. She could cradle the sun between them, and could walk untouched across fire with her cloven hooves. Soleil, the last Great Kirin King, the symbolic ancestor of every Aodhian and a figure held as dear to the Eithnian heart as Ignacio himself, stands before you. You have known her since you were a child, learning of her glory from ancient tomes and Sanctum hymns. The Soleils descend from her bloodline. She is a god made of mortal flesh and bone. And now she stands before you in the quiet of the room, regarding the crowd with a furrowed brow and the crease of a frown on her lips, perplexed by your existence - or perhaps her own. |
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Post by Deleted on Jan 22, 2018 6:34:50 GMT -6
BALE
Bale nodded to Adrian, sorry to see the disappointment.
“I hope to see you there”, he managed before the young pegasus disappeared into the crowd, and he had a sinking feeling in his chest. He did really mean it, but maybe it was too little. Too late.
He had half the mind to follow, to say that actually he didn’t care if everyone in this fucking room heard. That’s what he should have said, he thought.
He almost started into movement, but the weird feeling stilled him. The rumble immediately sent him closer to Milan, his frame snapping into a full protection mode. The feeling reminded him of Oriel erupting, even if not exactly the same. Not again.
He wasn’t mentally prepared for what actually happened. A kirin, suddenly emerging to the room. Bale’s first thought was teleportation, but he wasn’t sure. Ulysses had shared some stories of the ancient kirins, but Bale had had a lot of things to think about. He could see the picture behind the kirin, the resemblance, but it didn’t exactly spark immediate awe or recognition. He hadn’t really ever been that good with art.
His only thought piercing the shock was protecting Milan. It was all that mattered. He stepped in front of his boyfriend, tall and ready, his antler crown pointing at the appeared kirin. It mattered very little that this was the first kirin he ever met, besides himself of course. He would protect first, ask questions later.
“Who are you? Why are you here?” he asked, or maybe growled - little difference, his tail twirling as his whole body was coiled for action.
Word count: 272 | Post 6
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Post by ThatDenver on Jan 22, 2018 6:53:20 GMT -6
MILAN
It sent a weird ache rumbling through his chest when the young slave left them. Milan could see a much larger slave join up with them in the crowd, and then they were gone from his vision. His eyes returned to Bale, seeing a struggle playing out in those pale amber eyes. His Bale was always a little too emotional for his own good, even if most people didn’t notice.
The man acted on an emotion known as chivalry, not really thinking most of his choices beyond the basic moral goodness.
He touched Bale lightly, calming and grounding him. Now was not the place to make any statements. It would have been rude towards their host, and could have easily landed them in far more trouble than they knew how to handle.
The room rumbles.
Milan feels his hooves go a little off balance, and moves quickly next to Bale, a fear suddenly very clear in his eyes. Last time the earth rumbled, he got a face full of ash and stone.
A clap of thunder.
An antler crowned head, cloven hooves, a body like exposed veins of ore.
He knew the comer without thinking, yet it was unbelievable.
Of course rumors of the kirins appearing had reached New Valore through trade routes, and the rumors surrounding the appearance of one in the busy city streets. But to actually witness such an arrival was a different sensation.
He was awed, and afraid.
“King Soleil”, he said, and although he was filled with admiration, he was also happy to hide behind the bulk of his boyfriend, whose own antler crown was pointing in the direction of the newly appeared King.
Was this a sign from Ignacio? If so, Milan would like some decryption help.
The King did not seem pleased. He thought she looked confused, more so than anything – confused and perhaps angry.
“Just like the stories”, Milan adds softly, looking at the painting behind the kirin.
Word count: 326
Post #6
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Post by striaga on Jan 22, 2018 7:15:36 GMT -6
C A E S A R
The hall's warm, but it feels alien and cold to Caesar, who flicks her ears and turns her head again. The mangled half of her face has begun to hurt; the tension of the air aggravates old scars. There's a taste between her teeth, too, and Caesar tenses up. She's obedient enough, but drifts. A bodyguard is supposed to protect after all, and Caesar's throat tightens when she cannot find the source of the threat.
But something else happens; Caesar watches an ex-slave defend the man who used to own him and finds it strange. He's not obligated to do so, anymore. So, why?
Her throat tightens, though. She recognizes the Kirin, and the slave's eye snaps wide and full of fear. To Aodh, Soleil is a figurehead of valor, but Caesar was not born an Aodhian, and her father spun tales, in his madness,
of the cruelty of Soleil.
Caeser is not a fool, though, and so she dips down, bowing, ears flat and body shaking. "King Soleil," but what of Isador?
Her throat works, again.
"...a--a noble horse is on your throne," Caesar manages, her head turning, and I am just a slave, "--Isador." Maybe she should have said nothing, but Caesar knows, from legend, the fury of Soleil, the wrath of the Kirin, and so she sees no reason to...not mention him. "...he wields a dragon." Caesar turns her face down. This is not her place. She is a Slave, and should not be presuming to speak to Soleil, but there is nothing to stop her, nobody to stop her.
So she talks.
"I've waited--waited for your return," even though she's never known it was coming, but ever since Ingrid...
WC: 283 |Post 4 |
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Post by unifangs on Jan 22, 2018 14:56:46 GMT -6
There are many things that Coatl would expect of an Aodhian party but this sudden shift would never be one of them. His attention snaps from the courtesan he can only presume is seeking to lure in a client for the night. The party has been relatively uneventful, disappointingly so and he already greatly anticipated the return to his bed. Where is the fun if there is no scandal?” He thinks to himself until the sudden change in atmosphere occurs. There is rumbling and Coatl fumbles to keep his footing on his metal legs. He looks around, nervousness flickering across his features for only a moment. After the quake there is thunder and he only looks all the more perplexed when a figure seemingly apparates into the room without warning.
Coatl stares on with large eyes, watching the figure as others around him seem to recognize her near immediately. He shifts his metal legs and tries to process the sight in front of him as there is a mixture of reactions to her sudden appearance. For a moment he wonders if they all might bow, and what sort of political turmoil this will wreak on Aodh in the wake of their previous string of assassinations. Will Isador find his position threatened? Coatl suddenly finds the events happening in at the party suddenly got significantly more interested.
Post: 3 WC: 226 |
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Post by Disastercorn on Jan 22, 2018 15:34:49 GMT -6
JULIET
The mare is soft, calm, soothing the small colt at her side. With Bolthor close to her and her other bulkly servile the eminent feels protected. Calm. That was until the room started to shift. The smell made her nostrils flare, eyes going wide as hooves, precious pristine hooves, scrambled to find purchase on the slick smooth floors. Scrambling to stand, she took her own stance over the child, not even knowing she had. Something was happening...! She had smelt this once before, but her brain couldn't place when. Only that there was panic within her body now.
When lightening lit up the room the mare jolted and cried out, shielding her face from view with a knee. When soft pink eyes where opened to the world once more, Juliet found herself at a loss for words.
King Soleil.
There could be no other. She just knew, as if someone had placed her into her very mind since she had been born to this earth. Breath was held, eyes wide and her mind struggling to comprehend what was going on. "B-Bolthor..." She whispered, shaking, begging the pit fighter to come closer. Caesar was speaking... The slave was speaking to the king... Her slave. But Juliet was too froze, too paralyzed to do much else besides stare. What did one do when a King, who has been gone for millennia, suddenly rip into existence before their very eyes.
"Caesar...!" Juliet hisses hard under her breath, at least trying to gain some control, some insight. Her slave would be punished gravely for speaking like this. The servile knew better then to speak out of turn and in a situation like her, her voice was not needed in the silence.
Still she stands, shushing Beau if he tried to speak and allowing the other more capable horses to take charge. While she was a socialite, this seemed far too dangerous and unknown for the mare to tamper with the situation yet.
Word Count: 334 | Post #5 |
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Post by Deleted on Jan 22, 2018 16:02:18 GMT -6
A feeling like one he could not describe came over the room; an electricity coursing through his veins. His brow pressed together as he rose to his hooves, an unsettling chill forming in his chest. A quick glance around the room showed that he was not the only one feeling this, and immediately he stepped closer to his master as she called to him. It was then that thunder cracked through the room and suddenly, another being was present.
The world seemed to stand still as Bolthor looked upon the kirin. She stood before a portrait of herself, signaling that she was important. He heard whispers around the room, and Caesar spoke. King Soleil.
Bolthor had never been given the luxury of learning history.. or learning anything that didnt include fighting, anyways. The king who stood before him was just as foreign as her paining, another strange face on the wall. He felt an urge to protect surge through him as he moved in front of Juliet, his head low and ears flat against his neck as his back curved in preparation for a fight like a loyal dog to his master. The kirin before him seemed lost, but the lost were often confused. And the confused could get violent.
His gaze flickered dangerously to his fellow slave as she continued to speak of Isador. Know your place, he thought, those very thoughts obvious in his pointed glare toward her before he turned back to the kirin, watching her like a cat watches its meal. |
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Post by Ehrendi on Jan 22, 2018 16:45:41 GMT -6
AdrianServile Slave
It didn't take long for one of Juliet's slaves to join him and Adrian gave Caesar a grin. "Of course," his mind was still whirling, trying to figure out a way he could get to the Sanctum without Juliet being overly suspicious. It was going to be one of the more difficult thing he would have done in a while. Flicking an ear at Caesar he nodded, knowing all to well that was why she was there. "Sure," he said, walking alongside the mule until they had found Juliet tending to a young noble.
Now that was a sight to behold. Beau was only a kid, what the hell was he doing touching the hard stuff? Admittedly it was pretty funny though and Adrian had to turn his face away from them to hide the growing grin. He was just about to move to stand by Juliet's side when he paused. The hall shook and Adrian had to steady himself to keep on his hooves. The delicate chains behind his hocks shook as he instinctively lifted his wings. There was a weird taste in his mouth and then - crack.
Adrian whipped his head up, just as nearly all in the room did. His eyes widened and his jaw drops. It is...but it couldn't be. But..."King Soliel." Caesar confirms it. Adrian couldn't take his eyes off of the might kirin, but behind her he could see parts of the painting that hung on the wall. Painted in her exact likeness, there was no mistaking who this was. Adrian shifts to move closer to Juliet, his heart beginning to race either from fear or excitement, he could not tell.
... ... Word Count: 276 Post 5
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Post by blackmetalvalkyrie on Jan 22, 2018 23:17:09 GMT -6
Beau | Aodh | Noble - Eminent
The young colt allowed himself to be led over to a cushion by Juliet and the large pit fighter slave, who muttered something to Beau that made his heart sink. Yes, it was tough. But the slave likely had it tougher. He probably lost his mom and dad as well when he was young, and on top of it was thrown into slavery. But Beau was a bit too young and emotional to fully understand that concept. He murmured to Juliet something about the death of his father, Kanu, which until this moment was kept the utmost secret. No one outside the House knew of the details, then the disappearance of his mother. The child was left alone with a House to run and take care of with little help to do so. He needed guidance, a friend but most of all someone to love and nurture him even in the smallest of ways. Either that, or the chance he would end up with an attitude similar to Bothor's would be higher. All this while his head was resting on the dainty legs of Juliet, which he found to be incredibly soft and comforting. The feeling of her mane gracing his back calmed the upset child until his eyelids were heavy. For the first time since the departure of his parents, Beau felt safe.
Until, thunder crashed loud enough to shake the whole room. Beau's head shot up along with his ears, but he didn't leave Juliet's side. Instead he huddled close to her, his vision slightly blurry but taking in the shape of someone new. As the room grew quieter, his vision focused and the tipsiness was efficiently scared out of him with a rush of adrenaline. There she stood, as magnificent and powerful as the portraits within the Sanctum and even his own home. Even a colt such as himself knew, for as an Eminent, history was one of the first lessons learned through stories. He felt himself shaking but his heart never faltered. He never thought of running. Other party attendees were attempting to speak to the newcomer, but Beau minded Juliet and only murmured one thing to himself. His voice was breathless, his eyes wide with wonder as he peered around Bothor. "K-King..Soleil...."
Word Count: 378
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Post by SkyOfNewMoon on Jan 22, 2018 23:59:24 GMT -6
 Nova;Aodh | Courtesan
shitThe smile reached her eyes, “A large stallion like yourself, of course you’ve caught my eye before! Though I believe in places much more intimate than the Crucible. As for what I’m after, perhaps something to take the edge off would be a wonderful place to start.” She was there for the party first and work last. Just as she was going to take a step towards the stallion they were joined by the Host herself, relieving some tense nerves instantly. Nova dipped her head respectfully to the Adviser. “Thank you graciously for your invite, Advisor. I was beyond due for a night off!” She greeted Cyndane wholefully.
Just as she was about to speak more, her world was upturned, again. Gasps erupted about the glorious mansion, but for once in Nova’s life, the gasps were not completely in fear. Bewilderment and adoration were very much intertwined together. Curiosity piquing, Nova felt the energy roar alive as a glorious Kirin very well stepped into existence once more.
It felt wrong to look the King of their History in the eyes, instead Nova took to enveloping all of her magnificent figure of glistening scales and roaring beauty. Before, Nova would have thought several mares beautiful, now, however, they were entirely usurped by this Goddess come to life. Everything that was wrong would now be righted.
WC: 224 | Post #2 |
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Post by brandvandet on Jan 23, 2018 1:09:37 GMT -6
cyndane
Cyndane allowed herself to exist for a few moments before their attentions turned to her. Despite her social habits, she did not draw energy from those around her. Like exercise, interaction left her tired, but parties were a practice she had grown a tolerance to. It had long ceased to be an exhaustion.
Unfortunately, it was the game of it that was an exhilaration--and she found little of that here.
She smiled graciously at Nova’s greeting, dipping her head in a generous welcome. It was always amusing what simple gestures could do for camaraderie, for trust. Magnanimity cost nothing, only an ounce of pride, and could grant so much loyalty. Though, she knew quite a few among the Eminents that wouldn’t even spend a thimbleful.
The world shifted.
The world tore.
And She was there.
Cyndane gathered her scattered thoughts in the seconds of shock. Through extended, constant practice, her face had barely broken from its carefully prepared mask. There was a joy that sung in at her heart at this vision, a yearning to be confirmed of her devotion. Soleil has been a saint in her worship of her gods.
There was something in the woman’s gaze that strangled that joy.
Cyndane listened with apprehension as slaves and guests spoke up, addressing the King of the kirins. She, usually so quick with words, could not bring herself to speak. There was an instinct in her that begged her to be ready to run.
244 words. third post. |
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Post by Queerly on Jan 31, 2018 23:48:57 GMT -6
The King She digs her nails into her naked chest; miles of veins fan out like a road map
She pulls back the skin to show her ribs that twinkle like shooting stars
There is fire and gold in her eyes as she looks at you, her gaze scraping with the pristine edge of a knife across each face, acknowledging awe, shock, sparks of protective anger and ah, there - horror, the emotion most easy to recognize. The only one she would expect. Most of the assembly is made up of horses, but she spies unicorns among them, and Bellatrix's fins are hard to miss. Her eyes linger upon Adrian's wings and the thin line of her mouth twitches. She has said nothing before Bale reacts, and without turning her head she watches the kirin place himself infront of a horse, antlers bent to his King and she frowns, the first suggestion of something amiss. Something is amiss.
WAIT.
Her attention fixes on Caesar when she speaks and finds the horse on her knees. The slave knows her name. The King listens and does not move.
"A horse." She repeats slowly. Her voice curls through the room like smoke and ash.
SOMETHING IS WRONG.
The King lifts her head. Her scales are glittering ore veins. She could cradle the sun between her antlers. She has commanded armies and ruled a nation. She has watched her people die and chased shadows down her enemies' throats. She is King Soleil, the great ancestor of Aodh, a historical paragon to Ignacio's people. SOMETHING IS WRONG AND YOU MUST RUN.
Her teke traces the spire of torchiere and grips it. Without ceremony she aims and hurls it into the crowd. The heavy metal strikes Juliet in the ribs and the spilled embers ignite the carpet. The Hall is swallowed within a matter of minutes, and Soleil stands still as the inferno builds, as it devours priceless tapestries and licks the pale ceiling black. She watches slaves stumble and fall. She watches horses leap from the windows and scramble for the doors. She watches a small tobiano child cry for its mother. She watches, exhales smoke, and steps through the flame to make her departure. The King will be back.
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Post by Deleted on Feb 1, 2018 0:24:29 GMT -6
BALE
Bale is ready for action, waiting on a cue. But there’s a voice, a voice that he is not sure if he hears or feels, and he recognizes it. His eyes widen, but there is very little time from the cue to run to the flame being thrown. Bale shields Milan, then with no further ceremony digs his antlers from underneath the black horse’s frame, essentially lifting Milan to his back and holding onto him with the firm grasp of his teke, only strengthened by the armors that are entwined to his outfit.
There is noise, and his slitted eyes look for the exit as Milan yells. He is ready to dash out, but turns to look for the Adviser as well. He has little difficulty managing his steps in the inferno the place is quickly becoming, and he simply yells “Sorry” as he grabs Cyndane in the same manner as Milan, holding the two together and runs. He takes a burning, falling tapestry to his shoulder and pushes through it and outside. It doesn’t hurt, but he tries to make sure it doesn’t hit the two who are less fireproof.
He wants to stay, to make sure Milan is okay, if he needs healing, to protect him from the insane kirin. But he also needs to make sure everyone makes it out, and the ones who wouldn’t are the slaves Cyndane has. So instead, he half places and half tosses the two outside, and yells over the roaring fire: “I’ll be right back!”
He finds his pendant as he makes a turn to run, and it seeks to almost clasp itself to his neck, making him shine brighter than even the flames. He pushes back into the building, through the fire and into the kitchen area. There is a fallen, flaming beam and spooked slaves as he pushes it aside, and then seeks to herd them out while taking the worst of the flames that lick around him. They’ll have burns but he can heal them later, as his slitted eyes try to make sure no one is left behind.
Word count: 351 | Post 6
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Post by ThatDenver on Feb 1, 2018 0:38:38 GMT -6
MILAN
He watches from behind his love as the King eyes them all. She is near expressionless, but what there is, he doesn’t like.
A voice vibrates through his being. A warning, urgent and hot like the god himself. Milan knows the voice, and is about to voice the warning, not sure if everyone heard it, when the King grabs onto something – his eyes are not on her that very moment, but on the crowd – and soon fire spills into the room, wild and untamed and intent to kill.
Bale reacts faster than he does, and so Milan is up on his back. He offers no resistance, not until the kirin tries to leave.
“The Adviser!” his voice is a harsh command, coming from his very spine by reflex alone. Bale, for his part, obeys, and soon he shares his less than comfortable traveling form with the Eminent Adviser. An apology dies on his lips, but shows in his eyes. Her life, he thinks, is more important than her dignity at this very second. Their paragon has set them ablaze, and nothing is right in the world, so an Eminent can be hauled out.
He uses his own teke to stabilize her, keep her close to him. Heat licks at his body, but Bale moves swiftly, keeping them from the flames.
As they run, his eyes lock with Soleil’s. Fire and gold meet green for just a moment. There is murder in hers; and in his, too. Milan coils in on himself and brings forth the wrath of his blessing. Pain Infliction courses through his veins to the kirin’s body. There is no physical reaction, but there is half a blink when pain taints the murder, and then his blessing is pushed aside with a touch that he recognizes, even if the violence of it is foreign.
Milan has no time to ponder on it before he is deposited on the grounds, Adviser Cyndane next to him. Bale runs off, into the building, and while Milan knows that kirins do not burn, worry clenches at his heart and his soul burns at the thought. His eyes water as he stares into the heat a moment longer, and then they return to the Adviser.
He wants to ask what this all means. What they should do, where they should go.
He knows that Cyndane has no answers for him, not truly.
“I’ll try to keep You safe, Adviser”, he says, standing up despite himself. His muscles feel stiff and hot, and there is a smell of burning hair on him, but he is unharmed. The Artisan squares his body and lifts his head, vigilant until Bale returns for them.
Word count: 447
Post #7
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Post by Queerly on Feb 1, 2018 0:43:52 GMT -6
congrats y'all get money
aka rewards
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Post by Disastercorn on Feb 1, 2018 1:22:30 GMT -6
JULIET
It is there.
Something just feels wrong.
A voice licks at her very soul, but she is too afraid, to scared, too caught in the moment to move. Until the large metal torchiere is grasped. Her breath is held, only to have it suddenly forced out of her as the object her eyes cannot leave crashes and breaks into her side. A scream is stolen from her lips, mouth opening in a breathless cry as her form crumbles instantly, tossed away from the child beneath her feet. Pain explodes from her ribs, knowing instantly they are broken. Voice is gone, focusing everything on breathing, remaining conscious.
How could this have gone so array? Head hits the floor hard and the mare is dazed, completely and utterly at the mercy of the room. It feels hotter then normal, her vision wavering, jewelry upon her form tossed and broken. Why was she here? Where was here? Hooves feel like they are shifting through mud, and her body starts to go weak. "He..lp..." Is the only word she is able to gasp out.
Word Count: 187 | Post #6 |
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Post by Deleted on Feb 1, 2018 1:43:48 GMT -6
His muscles twitched as the Kirin before them spoke, just two words, repeating those of Caesar's. The moments that followed were two quick for him to process; a lit metal torchiere snatched by the kirin and thrown at his master. He could hear the sickening crunch of metal finding bone, followed by the thud of Juliet's body hitting the ground. The fighter had tried to put himself in the way, but he had been too slow, and now his master was injured on the ground, and fire was quickly spreading.
Bolthor felt heat at his hooves, licking at his coat as he tore through the dancing flame to find Juliet's side, hoisting her smaller, lithe form onto his back. He tried to be careful with her injury, but that was not his first concern. His priority was to get her out.
The scent of burning flesh swirled in his muzzle as he rushed through the flames, his eyes squinting against the heat, teeth bared as he endured the pain that was eating at his pelt.
He found the door and with a single kick, sent it off its weakened hinges, only slowing when they made it to the street. He did not stop to wait for the other slaves; they would find their way home. Juliet needed a doctor.
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Post by unifangs on Feb 1, 2018 2:26:45 GMT -6
Something is array. Coatl watches the kirin and it all quickly becomes apparent what lay in store. There is awestruck individuals and then there is an inferno. It awakens something in him, memories flooding his mind of the rank scent of ash and burnt flesh. Never has he come so close to facing his own mortality and for once he is terrified. In the face of blessed flame he trembles, stagnating as the flames consume the room around them.
He thinks of his uncle, his cousin, and he thinks of Lucerys. Oh god.. There is so much that has yet to be done and intends to not let death take him today. Coatl is not ready to stumble into the embrace of his maker and so he will do what any sensible individual would, run. Portions of the blaze burn his flesh, torch the metal of his legs and heat them to an insufferable level. He wills himself to move and so move he does.
He awkwardly seeks to sprint, his metal legs clanking against the floor before he finally decides to take drastic measures. The emin flings himself through the window, striking through glass and he can feel it tear into his skin. There is an agonized cry as he plummets, blood drizzling down from torn skin. When he hits the ground he groans, landing in an awkward heap weighed down by his prosthetics. Slowly he rises and starts to drag himself away from the inferno, teeth clenched and eyes ahead, not daring to look back at the burning halls.
Post: 4 WC: 261 |
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Post by Ehrendi on Feb 1, 2018 4:13:43 GMT -6
AdrianServile Slave
He had barely stepped aside when the projectile flew past him, striking Juliet in the ribs with a sickening crack and a hollow thump as she hit the ground. Wide eyed, Adrian spun to see his master on the floor, her screaming made his stomach churn and all previous good vibes from the party left him. Holy shit. Adrian spun to look towards the kirin King, his previous uncertainty changing to fear. All thoughts left him and all he knew was he needed out. The embers from the torchiere were quick to take hold of the carpet, tiny flames quickly growing into bigger, hungrier flames. The heat bit at his legs and instinctively Adrian moved to stretch his wings, only to feel the familiar tug as the chains prevented him from opening them all the way up. Shit. He hated those things, even more so now. He turned back to find Bolthor lifting Juliet up onto his back where she looked very small and very delicate. The giant mass of Bolthor paved a way out and Adrian moved to follow him. The flames beginning to grow, catching alight to anything it touched. A few embers touched his fetlocks, making him jump at the sudden sharp, biting pain.
Nope, that was it. Adrian moved to bound over the growing flames, but stumbled to a halt as he realised Beau had been left behind. Shit, god damn it. He couldn't leave the kid behind. Spinning around he spotted the young Emin as the flames of the fire began to grow significantly. Smoke was filling the room, burning his lungs but Adrian bolted towards the kid. "Come on," Adrian yelled across the chaos in the room, he reached out with his bronze teke to tug at Beau's mane. Coughing, Adrian called out once more, "hold onto me, I'll lead you out." Adrian's heart hammered wildly in his chest, willing the kid to move fast. It was difficult to see where the exit was, but Adrian moved in a blind direction and only really began to head towards a door when he spotted the bright glow of Bale. They were going to make it.
... ... Word Count: Post 6
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