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Post by Queerly on Dec 15, 2017 10:23:19 GMT -6
Hello Starborn, and welcome to Plot 510: Consequences Team Leader: Margarey Participants: Aidan, Empathy, Isador, Isolt, Maria, Nil, Taavetti, Undyne. 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'DPrompt: After a diligent investigation and dedicated pursuit, the vile criminals that assassinated your King have been caught. They’ve been rightfully sentenced to public execution and you’ve found yourself in attendance in the Crucible. Oddly enough, the traditional pyres seem to be absent. Instead, King Isador and his large pet are present. Not that burning isn’t horribly unpleasant in its own right, but if what’s about to happen is what you suspect, then this is about to be positively gruesome. Location: Haven, Vandet Villa Time of Day: Evening Current Weather: Clear, Warm Leader is posted!
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Post by Queerly on Dec 15, 2017 10:46:53 GMT -6
The procession was a somber affair as the prisoners were hauled into the ring by dedicated labour slaves, their struggles subdued by chains and kept silent by heavy bits. The gentle clink of metal against leather and the soft crunch of sand beneath their hooves was the only sound that managed to break through the silence, and it felt as though they were only amplified tenfold without the usual energy that surrounded the Crucible.
It felt wrong to be passing judgement here, this was supposed to be a place of excitement and promise, not an execution stand.
Still, the unicorn marched onward, lifting her head to acknowledge those that awaited them; silent gatekeepers ready to bestow their justice, Sola and her consort, Isador. Hiding a heavy heart at the events that had led to this, Margaery began to speak with feigned confidence, carrying out the king’s orders as he merely looked down upon them all.
“Isolt, Nil, place the criminals before… Sola, and secure the platform.”
With a vague gesture of her horn, Margaery indicated their path up ahead and pulled up short, hovering close to the gates. She had no intention of getting any closer to the wyvern than she had to, for the remains of The Pearl and outskirts of the city had spoken volumes about what that creature was capable of.
Without pause, she looked towards the pair of aspiring chevaliers, making direct eye contact with both of them to make sure her words sunk in. “You two, with me. Do not look away, for I will know.”
Today would be a test of their resolve, to see if they were ready to ascend into the guard or crumble beneath the weight of what they were about to witness. Taking a chance to draw breath, Margaery gathered her thoughts as her memories of her own experience rose to the surface.
It was something she would never forget.
Exhaling, she arched her neck and bowed her great head towards those who were left. They did not have a Flamen in which to oversee the execution, but with the current state of the city, well… she supposed it could not be helped.
“Sanctum helpers, prepare the prisoners’ last rites.”
WC: 373
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Post by moonlightwalk on Dec 16, 2017 13:13:00 GMT -6
Aidan
Aidan was nervous. He liked being able to get out of the villa, but this assignment hit close to home. He kept glancing at the prisoners they escorted. These were the horses that killed his cousin? Why they burried him way too soon? And for what? He wished he could stop and ask why? How could they? For what? His body trembled as he looked at them. In rage? In fear? He couldn’t tell even if you asked him.
They were bound upon a platform instead of a pyre. Aidan was looking at the wyvern now in quiet awe. It was a creature he had only heard about in legend, but very much alive. Hebwished he had a wyvern. If you asked him, he’d tell you he’d make an amazing dragon rider. He wondered if the king rode the beast. Wait, there weren’t any pyres. Huh? Prisoners like these got burned. He wondered if they were getting away too easy. He eyed the wyvern again. Perhaps they would be burned by it…him…her…tHEY? Aidan wasn’t sure what the wyvern preferred.
His superior was talking to him and he quickly snapped his head to look back, shoulders squaring. Why would he look away? Hero’s didn’t turn their head. He gave her a cocky grin. "Of course." He gulped audibly as she turned away to instruct the sanctum helpers.
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Post by FaunaFawn on Dec 16, 2017 19:30:10 GMT -6
A public execution, that was the fate for him? He could almost laugh as he truly wondered how his life could have gone down hill so fast as it had. Eyes looked to the other two with him, a winged mare tied, tears falling down her face. Perhaps praying to Ignacio for some divine intervention. Best to save her tears, he thought Ignacio was not here to save them. She fought for life still, perhaps he should admire it? Perhaps it was foolish? He was still in awe struck his life as a criminal somehow landed him here. Tied, getting ready for his last rites. Etoc closed his copper eyes and pulled away from the winged mare, the petty criminal known for smuggling in drugs.
Etoc instead looked to his comrade, while they were not brothers he felt strongly akin to unicorn. They worked well together transporting untaxed wine and opium. Now they stood here, accused of a crime they didn't commit. While of course they all criminals in some shape or form, did any of them kill the King? Etoc shook his head, taste the tight bridle on his face making him unable to speak. Still he looked his comrade, his alley his partner in crime. Gods have mercy on them all. Etoc studied his face, an emotion etched on his friends face he could not truly know, but he’d seem slaves show it. The face of someone that has given up in life. There was no emotion behind those green eyes of his, Nor tears like the winged mare to his right. No his friend on the left was already gone, and what a pity he could not say his goodbyes to him. Not have some sweet parting words.
Etoc snorted, no he couldn’t give up, and clearly the crowd the people were not to be moved by tears the mare continued to shed. No, he needed his words, he was clever perhaps? A smooth talker? No not really, but words could save them. Etoc closed his eyes trying to calm his emotions, and opened his copper eyes to seek a familiar speckled form, but she infamous slave trader was not near. His cousin through marriage a long time friend, did she even know? Probably not, he could already hear her telling him what an idiot he was for choosing this life of crime. Gods he wish he could hear her one more time. Eyes looked to these Sanctum Helpers and snorted faintly. Oh he’d have the last say.
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Post by Deleted on Dec 16, 2017 20:43:36 GMT -6
sola ANCIENT WYVERN
SOUL-BONDED TO ISADOR
The great beast’s eyes never left the beings as they entered the ring. She observed each and every one of them, gaze penetrating as they drew nearer. As one began to speak she blinked indifferently, though her gaze was unrelenting. Her tail lifted from the ground slightly and landed with a resounding thump - sand scattering about in the process. Her claws dug into the ground as she looked elsewhere before finally settling on Isador. Sola’s eyes dilated immediately as she focused on her partner, her head almost tilting as she watched him. It was blatantly obvious that her affection was reserved for him and him alone, and (had she not been so threatening) one might be amused by her devotion - and subsequently, her irritation when they were disturbed. Something that could only be described as a primal, guttural noise rumbled in her throat, and she lowered her massive head to peer at the group, eyes narrowing as she stared them down once more. She flexed her claws again, tail swishing against the sand as they continued to speak before her. _________________
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Post by PaganStars on Dec 17, 2017 18:37:23 GMT -6
Undyne
Sanctum aTTENDANT
Undyne had been surprised when Laos had asked him to attend the execution of those that had murdered their previous king, to perform their last rights for the Enya Sanctum in his sted. Undyne had nodded his head and smiled, assuring the hippocampus that he would be more than willing to go. In the back of his mind he was reminded exactly what an execution entailed but for now, he was glad to be of service. Perhaps even a little excited, though he did not say it out loud. He had prepared the night before, cleaning his garments and making sure that he would have everything necessary, including reading over the religious rite that he would be performing for those to be judged.
His rest had been fitful but as always, Undyne rose with the sun. He went through his daily motions; cleaning of the shrines, preparing offerings and attending to any of those who visited the ivy-covered sanctum. In the late afternoon, he had retired to his humble room and donned his robes, smearing ash delicately against his shoulders and flank. He had bid adieu to his fellow workers and made his way towards the famous Crucible ring. Undyne had only been there a handful of times and never for something as a drab as an execution. It was strange to see it so quiet, so used to crying crowds and the sound of fighting. Undyne had simply joined the other attendants and waited patiently.
When the chevalier had stepped out, Undyne had regarded their armour with admiration; there was just something so special about a coat of armour. He had watched her and the others bring forth the prisoners to their pyre's, in front of the great scaled beast that sat beside their king. A chill ran up his spine, his eyes ghosting over the form of the dragon, taking in her sheer size and aura. Her scales seemed to glimmer, and Undyne' was most certainly reminded of the shimmering scales that sat gracefully in the Enya sanctum. Breaking his gaze, he looked to the leader of the Chevaliers, nodding his head and stepping towards those bound.
Clearing his throat, he began to speak to them, his voice unwavering. "Blessed are those who stand before the sun, Bathe in its radiance and light. Blessed are we under Ignacio’s gaze, loved and cared for," he stepped away from the shivering mare, eyes turning towards those of the copper-eyed stallion " Let the fire pass through thy flesh, Let it cleans thy veins and purge thy heart," finally he stopped in front of the last prisoner, the guttural growl from the beast behind him causing him to pause for just a moment "Let thy cries reach skywards, and return to ash under his judgement. " Undyne bowed his head, and stepped back.
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Post by mariahwhy on Dec 17, 2017 19:51:18 GMT -6
Isolt | Labor Slave
Isolt had escorted prisoners before. More so in the past months than ever before, thanks to all of the occurrences happening in Valore. It was just one aspect of her job, and meant little to her personally. Her muscles pulled against their struggling, and her ears were deaf to their sobs. The criminals had acted against her great city, and they must face their judgement. While the crime that these horses were accused of was quite grave, it was still business as usual to the unicorn slave.
That was, until she stepped through the door into the crucible ring, and saw the great dragon awaiting them. Isador and some other higher-ranked horses and chevaliers stood at its feet, as was to be expected at such an important execution, but Isolt paid them no mind other than to absent-mindedly follow the directions given to her. She couldn't take her eyes off of the wyvern. Her mouth hung agape in unashamed awe as she nodded in response to Margaery's command. She tugged the criminals forward to the platform, taking note of the massive wingspan of the creature. It made the crucible seem small in comparison, and herself smaller still. While Isolt did hold a great deal of immediate respect for the creature, she couldn't exactly say that she feared it. The legends of dragons past had largely escaped her ears, and the pygmy dragons around the city had never seemed more than slightly bothersome to her. Sure she had heard talk of what the beast had done outside of town, and the labor slaves had helped with the clean up of the Pearl, but how could it be all bad if it sat her so calmly. It was just another pet. Just... a large one.
With the criminals on the platform her hunter green teke took hold of the side of the prisoners' ropes that she held. Stepping to the side of the platform she strung it through a large, sturdy ring, tying it expertly. Already prepared braces clamped around the prisoners' front pasterns. Only when she stepped back to double check her work and check that Nil had secured his side did it dawn on her what was happening.
The pyres were gone. In their place... a platform and a dragon. She too another step back, eyes turning up once more in reverence to the dragon, before growing wide at the words of the attendant.
(Post 1: 404 words)
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Post by Prismaticlysm on Dec 18, 2017 10:02:17 GMT -6
N i L
Ω Aodh | Labor Slave Ω
 "When you doubt your power, you give power to your doubt."
~Honore de Balzac Ω
The Unicorn absently ran his tongue over the bit in his mouth. He had no idea why he had been chosen for this duty, but here he was and he couldn't complain about it. Not that he actually would if he could, it was a rather nice change, being out of the Dark District. However, being here, of all places, wasn't any better than his workplace.
The Crucible was no stranger to him, memories of his childhood, if he could call it that, flooded back to his mind. He chewed the bit a moment in bitter remembrance, his ears flicking back to hear the sounds of wracked breathing from the prisoners behind him. Once, for a short period of time, he was in their horseshoes for a similar offense. He considered himself lucky to be found innocent. But today, he feared these sad souls would wish they had never been born. And who knew if they were even guilty to begin with. The whole debacle surrounding the dead of the previous King still stunk of something other. But who was he to even voice his opinion. But still he pitied them all the same.
Nil snapped out of his thoughts at the mention of his name, ruby eyes quickly seeking those of Margaery's. The order was given, and he, alongside his companion Isolt, moved to do the other unicorns bidding. In the hoof beats it would take them to carry out the orders of their superior, the de-horned slave reflected on the younger, yet taller female who was chosen for this duty. It was a simple attempt to ignore the wyvern standing tall before them, as the bastard had made the lives of his fellow labor slaves difficult during the cleanup of the Pearl.
She seemed amazed and respectful towards the beast, in the short moment he took to glance at her. He found pitied her too, he pitied her acceptance.
And before he knew it, they were at the platform. Isolt was diligently set on tying up the prisoners, and Nil followed suit. In contrast to her green, his bright red teke took hold of the ropes and threaded them through the ring on his side and were quickly secured tightly. His heart hammered like a drum. He wasn't the one to be executed, but he was still nervous nonetheless. Stepping back alongside Isolt, he fought his feelings to get the hell away from the area.
And before he knew it, the Sanctum Attendant was saying the last rites. Was he really about to witness this? It felt so utterly wrong. With his ears flicked back, he tore his eyes away from the prisoners and looked skyward. If Ignacio would be bathing them in flames, he prayed to Alya that she would take them amongst her stars. If one should burn so unfairly, let their peaceful rest be above all of them.
Lowering his head, he closed his eyes in sorrow. He wouldn’t watch if he could help it.
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Post by empyre on Dec 18, 2017 16:42:14 GMT -6
Taavetti || Squire There had been a stone in his gut since Ammy's death, and it tumbled about inside the dark colt as he walked beside his brother into the Crucible. Taavi had not been here since the Vagabond attack, an event which seemed to feel as though it happened a lifetime ago. Even so, the scar across his belly ached with the memories, but Taavi mustn't get caught up in that. Not now, not anymore. He glanced at Aidan, wondering what thoughts were going through his older brother's mind, the older colt seeming stuck in his own world just as Taavi was. The dark colt tried not to stare at Sola, the dragon both incredible and terrifying in equal parts...but what was she doing here? Where were the pyres? That was now execution go right? Taavi startled slightly when Margarey spoke to him and Aidan and he nodded fervently in response, though there was a lump in his throat when he swallowed. The sight of the prisoners alone made him feel sick with grief for his cousin, he hoped watching whatever would become of them would be easier than seeing them here alive.
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Post by Notactive on Dec 20, 2017 10:26:58 GMT -6
Why? This one word had been constantly playing in his mind after he had learned of king Amadeus murder.Why?He had been devastated and he had mourned, not because he had supported the king ( like many others he had thought that he was to young, to innocent to rule a kingdom like Aodh ), no he had mourned because Amadeus was just a child, a child whose life had been taken to soon.No one had the right to take someone elses life, whoever he might be. Yet, even though he believed that, here he was taking part in something he did not only condone but also despise.He chuckled at that, probably gaming some weird looks from his companions.He had sworn an oath to Ignacio that , the day everything had changed, he had sworn to never harm another living creature again, whether it was another equine or animal.Yet here he was, about to give the last rites to three criminals before they were burned by the ancient wyvern.
Where they even guilty?Had they really killed the boy king in cold blood? And if yes, why? They didn’t look like murderers, but then how did murderers look? No one knew how exactly they had been caught, and surprisingly there hadn’t been any gossip about it either.What if they were innocent? Maria shook his head trying to get rid of the guilt and the feeling that something was not right. It was his duty as a sanctum attendant to do the last rites for the prisoners. He had carefully prepared himself pacing out the rites that would not only help Ignacio forgive the criminals but also bring him in close contact with them. He had to be ready. Yet somewhere deep down he still wondered, why was he here and the guilt for breaking his promise was eating him from the inside.
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Post by Jennycallie on Dec 21, 2017 15:44:49 GMT -6
Isador’s face was grave as he stood in the fading light of the warm evening. The new King did not fidget, did not speak save for necessary murmurs to his attendants or, occasionally, Sola. His cool blue eyes remained steady, and he indulged in no food or drink or other way to pass the uncomfortable time before him. Even his shadow was still, and only rippled once, when the convicted were led in. Isador’s gaze sharpened on them, some weak with terror, others resigned, but the King’s face remained impassive.
He was not here to gloat, or to taunt, and neither was he here to show mercy. The Crucible was a place of judgement- and witness. It was not soft, and it was not cruel: it was truth. It was the heartbeat of Eithne, far more than the Palace. It was fitting, then, that it should be the place where Aodh could finally put to rest the last of the pain from the past few months, and rise from the ashes, greater and stronger.
It also was the only place that could fit Sola.
Isador didn’t look at her again, but he could feel the attention of the great beast, and the warmth that radiated from her gilded scales, suffused as she was with Ignacio’s sacred fire. The King lifted his head as Undyne finished speaking, the words of the last rites rolling through the Crucible like the tolling of a bell, an implacable promise. Isador did not step towards the convicts, but he fixed them with his clear, direct gaze, one at a time. When the King spoke, he did not raise his voice, but still the words seemed to vibrate in the silent, tense air, and none could fail to hear him.
“Though you have betrayed your nation and heritage, your final act will be to strengthen it, and bring us closer together, stronger. We are more than our joys and sorrows, our betrayals and triumphs. We are the blood and flesh of Ignacio, and we will not be defined by our weaknesses. I bid you, criminals who remain Aodhians still, to embrace your fate with a clear heart. Let the fires of our patron lift your burdens and remove the stains from your soul, and maybe you can find your peace. May Ignacio have mercy on your souls.”
Because the mortals of this realm cannot. We must be strong.
Isador turned his head slightly, enough to catch one of Sola’s whirling, jeweled eyes. He nodded, a small gesture, but firm.
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Post by Ladybro-Meghan on Dec 22, 2017 21:45:50 GMT -6
 Empathy;Aodh | Sanctum Helper
Death is only the end if you assume the story is about you.
Rage, sorrow, and numbness. These were the only things Empathy could feel, though conflicting. It was not her own thoughts of her heart but of the prisoners'. The only thing she's ever been good at is being an emotional sponge. Empathy could only hold back the tears fighting to break free of her eyes as they walked the guilty to the execution stage.
Heartache. Still fresh from the kings demise. So much lost potential with the loss of his life. So many things left undone. Yet hope glimmers even still in this fate.
When it came time, Empathy being the last to speak, her version of last rites came straight from the heart.
Gently, the great mare towered over all others yet she found a space close the the prisoners. This rite would quieter than the others, she lowered her massive head. Getting om their eye level she whispered so not even the crowds could hear. It wasn't meant for them. No. This was for the dying, this was for the old King.
"Hold all the lessons this life has given close, and your mistakes closer. Your body will change but your heart will remember between right and wrong in this life and the next." Her tears fell with each syllable, for them and for the old King. "Take heart, you're going to be something wonderful."
With that she stepped back. It was in Ignacio's hooves now.
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Post by FaunaFawn on Dec 27, 2017 18:17:20 GMT -6
Eyes looked out to the crowd and those around him. He saw a common theme among them all, their was anger, disgust, confusion and hurt. They wanted someone to have as the fall guy, someone they could throw all the blame onto. Perhaps after all of this they can all rest in peace. Etoc thought with disgust, they were going to kill the innocent, and all they cared about was putting the rest to the blame so perhaps they can go on with their daily lives. He shook his head closing his eyes taking in deep breathes, it was getting closer he could feel. The Sanctum helpers came in one by one. Saying their prayers. all it seemed to to do was make the winged mare cry all the more, her cheeks wet with tears as she remained sunk in within herself. She would not die with pride he thought.
Each sanctum help that came towards him, he looked into their eyes defiantly, let them never forget his copper eyes, let his eyes haunt them. They speak Ignacio would know their worth, oh he'd know the were not completely innocent, but innocent of this crime. They were not the best, but they were not the worst. He shook his head and as they past to his comrade. Already gone and dead, did their prayers ever hit him, could he hear them? Gods be good he thought. Etoc shook his head shaking it almost violently. No no no no NO NO NO! This was not how this was supposed to go!He growled with frustration and suddenly the bridle shook off his head and he was free, a mere chance by Ignacio? A saving grace? He was not the type to waste it!
"I'm not supposed to say any of this, but I'm innocent of this crime! We did not kill the King nor was apart of any plot to his demise. We were a target because of our low class crimes, smuggling drugs to some that even you all in the crowd have purchased from us. Im not saying we are innocent fully by any means, but we are innocent of this crime! Im glad the truth is out now, that you know we are innocent."
Etoc looked briefly to his comrade who for once seemed to be alive, or perhaps beliving they had witnessed a miracle to see Etoc free and giving a speech. While the winged mare had stopped her sniffling to look at him. Hope blooming in ehr face, the thought that perhaps they could be freed of this crime. Etoc looked back boldly at the crowed and to the dragon puffing his chest out with defiance.
WC: 451
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Post by PaganStars on Dec 27, 2017 21:47:28 GMT -6
Undyne
Sanctum aTTENDANT With his piece said and done, Undyne respectfully stepped back and listened as the others said their words, bowing his head each time. His sharp gaze flicked from each prisoner, taking in the way they held themselves and how they were internally dealing with this. The mare was in complete distress, the one in the middle holding his ground and the other... was simply lost. Undyne did not feel sorry for them, he was merely doing his job but he did feel respect for the one who stood tallest. To be on trial for the murder of a king and to hold one's head so high... it was commendable. When their new king began to speak, Undyne turned to gaze up at him, bowing his head once in respect before listening fully, his metal bridal gently clicking together. His words held merit and Undyne turned to face the three prisoners as Sola was called forward.
His eyes met the one in the middles, heartbeat quickening as the thought of what was to come built up, new adrenaline coursing through his veins. But then suddenly his bridle was broken free, Undyne crying out quietly in alarm as he stepped forward and raised his head, words loud and demanding. To stand up to a dragon and her kind... Undyne turned his head to stare at Isador, expectantly.
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Post by Prismaticlysm on Dec 28, 2017 9:23:19 GMT -6
N i L
Ω Aodh | Labor Slave Ω
"When you doubt your power, you give power to your doubt."
~Honore de Balzac Ω
Nil had closed his eyes. He listened to the Sanctum helpers, and while he could admit their prayers did have this genuine air about them, he felt his own prayers to Alya were far better. Even though his were simple pleas, he knew in his heart that was was going to happen was wrong, and that if anyone could help it was Alya. Would the winged Goddess hear him? Was there even a shred of hope her divine winds could keep Sola’s fire at bay?
With ears pinned back, he ignored the voices of his superiors and focused his heart on his Goddess. Please, Goddess of the wind and stars, maker of the moons and giver of flight to the Pegasi....please spare them. Even if we never find the true murderer...please spare these souls.
While nothing happened and sweat beaded along his neck, a voice rang out in utter defiance that made his eyes snap open. Was this Alya’s small gift? Some mere chance that allowed the horrid bridal to fling from the accused's head to give him a moment to say his piece? Nil’s ruby gaze watched, heart pounding, finding he believed every word the defiant male spoke. But was it enough to call off the wyvern. Were those words even reaching the King and the Sanctum helpers. Nil, sadly, thought not, but at the very least the male was able to say something at all. Get in the final word defiantly. It was so admirable
Or was it simply because Nil already had a bias towards Aodh in general? He had been enslaved by them. If there was any chance the higher ups were wrong, he’d take it. He believed full heartedly that Aodh had made a mistake, and that these supposed murderers were truly simple smugglers and had committed crimes of a more minor nature. And Nil knew, there were far more who were free doing the same damn thing. These three were truly unlucky.
Nil raised his head. Though he said nothing and kept his face as neutral as he could, he channeled his own defiance into the surrounding area. Although he stood as dirt beneath their hooves, he stood with the prisoners. He believed them, and hoped they could feel that someone was with them until the end. Even if he was considered nothing.
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Post by hey-stardust on Dec 30, 2017 18:58:04 GMT -6
❀ 
2 | 182MARGAERY | AODH | CHEVALIER
Oh the sun will rise like a flame ignites, we're not done 'til we say it's over,
we won't fade away.
Oh the sun will rise, tomorrow never dies.
Margaery shook her in head in dismay, loosening wilted petals from under her helm and horn as one of the bridles slid from the prisoner’s face; clattering to the floor in an undignified heap. It was a rookie mistake, and a sloppy one at that. Disquiet still reigned in the heart of the one they called Etoc, making himself known to the crowd as he pleaded for mercy, staunch and unwavering in contending for the group’s supposed innocence. She had heard it all by countless others before they too, had burned. Yet, for the briefest of moments, it gave her pause to consider why such beings would stoop to kill a clueless king, a mere child… However, regardless of her own feelings, she had a duty to uphold. “ENOUGH!” Margaery bellowed, her voice bouncing off the empty stands and cutting into the perpetrator’s tirade. She stepped forward, approaching the platform just as those before her had, and did not hesitate to meet their gaze. “By order of our great city and your King, you are hereby sentenced to die.”
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Post by hey-stardust on Dec 30, 2017 21:27:34 GMT -6
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Post by Deleted on Dec 31, 2017 19:23:07 GMT -6
sola ANCIENT WYVERN
SOUL-BONDED TO ISADOR
The mighty beast’s attention did not waver from the King. Her eyes gleamed as brightly as his, scales reflecting the burning sun and warming her hide. Isador’s words resonated within her chest, and his brief -but resolute- motion turned her attention once more upon the group. Something clattering against wood made the wyvern’s body shift, and the sudden shouting provoked a growl from deep within her. Sola’s enormous tail lifted and landed upon the earth with a resounding thud, shaking those gathered as she rose. Fire licked at her maw as the order was declared, and then there was only a brief beat of silence before flames erupted before them. Etoc’s guttural scream enveloped the stadium as a blaze of red and gold devoured him. Sola drew nearer to the podium, unconcerned as the fire spread beyond the stand and licked at the edges of the assembly. She paused for a second, gaze flickering to Isador, before dipping her head and devouring the prisoner. His bones cracked like twigs between her great mouth, and she snarled as more flames waited at bay behind her teeth. It was not a clean death, and a charred mass of bone and sinew fell from her jaws, scattering beside the remaining prisoners as a jarring reminder that they were next to suffer the same fate. _________________
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Post by mariahwhy on Dec 31, 2017 22:41:48 GMT -6
Isolt | Labor Slave
Isolt's head lifted in response to the clatter of the prisoner's bridle and his shouts of defiance. She was not surprised by the words. Many criminals had the same reaction. They always seemed to feel that the justice served to them was unfair. She knew that his words alone were not proof of innocence. Had they been he wouldn't be standing here in the first place. But the loss of the bridle worried her.
It had not been her job to put the bridle on. The chevaliers were responsible the physical binding of the prisoners to make sure such things did not happen by mistake or calculation on a slave's part. But still it was her duty to make sure the prisoner stayed where they should, and so this fell into her realm of responsibility. If the criminal decided to turn tail and run (though she highly doubted he'd escape the crucible) it wouldn't be the chevaliers getting punished. She made a motion forward, eyes intent on the bridle, but hadn't even made it one full step forward when the dragon's tail pummeled the ground. Worried that her movement had angered the beast she stopped, thankfully just in time to hear Margaery's shout and the dragon's almost simultaneous burst of flame.
She need not worry about the prisoner running now. She could not draw her eyes away as he disappeared almost completely in the flame, just enough of him visible to see the flesh burning. Isolt felt rooted to the spot, close enough to the platform that she could feel the heat of the flame and smell the putrid stench of the burning stallion. Her nostrils pinched against the smell, and it wasn't until the dragon's head fell suddenly, and terribly gracefully, to pick up the charred carcass that she snapped her head to the side, suddenly wishing to be anywhere else.
Isolt skittered backwards, head thrown down and eyes screwed shut, knowing that the performance was yet to be repeated. She could not bare to watch. This was not justice. In the fire they were taken to Ignacio. But to be eaten... desperately she sent out a prayer for the lost souls of the condemned.
(Post 2: 366 words)
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Post by moonlightwalk on Jan 1, 2018 15:54:27 GMT -6
Aidan
Chevalier (squire) | Cis male
It was supossed to be satisfying, seeing the murderers of his cousin condamned for their crimes. It was supossed to bring him some kind of closure, some kind of relief. Their misdeeds would be cleansed by Ignacio’s flames. But as the prisoners were prepared, one stepped forward and had to trouble Aidan’s heart. Claiming innocence.
Why?
Aidan frowned, lips pursing. Why would they do that. To claim such a thing in their final moments? What good could it do? Unless… unless they were innocent. But the city had found them guilty. There had to be evidence, right? Were they faking their innocence? But they claimed other crimes. He didn’t want to care, but he did. He didn’t want doubt, he wanted justice. He wanted someone to pay for Amadeus’ death. He wanted to be able to find some rest at night. But if there was the slightest possibility, just the tinniest, that they had the wrong horses. That whoever did this was still out there. He couldn’t.
Curse them, if they were guilty. Curse them for playing with his heart. The wyvern paid them no mind and soon the prisoner that was speaking was bathed in flames. Aidan backed up, but didn’t look away. Fire was terrifying, but fire was also beautiful. It was a mix of gruesomeness and magnificents. But then the wyvern’s head dipped down unexpectedly and the prisoner disappeared between teeth.
Aidan’s stomach promptly turned and he retched.
Post 2 | 241 words
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Post by Prismaticlysm on Jan 2, 2018 11:33:00 GMT -6
N i L
Ω Aodh | Labor Slave Ω
"When you doubt your power, you give power to your doubt."
~Honore de Balzac Ω
It all happened so fast, and without remorse. Without a second thought, a second care, a second chance.
You are sentenced to die, the Chevalier Margaery had said. And everyone watching, from the king, all the way down to the lowly dirt that was he and Isolt...no one did anything. He wanted to, but he couldn’t.
What little defiance and confidence Nil had gained as he metaphorically stood by the prisoners, was immediately dissolved with the burst of flame that sprouted from Sola’s maw. It was quick, but that didn’t make it any less horrific. The immediate obliteration of the prisoner Etoc, the pain-filled scream, the smell of burnt flesh and hair, the dramatic increase in heat even at a safe distance...and the taste of bile rising in his throat. All senses were on high alert, even though he really wasn’t in any immediate danger himself.
Nil was, ironically, frozen in his place, muscles trembling from underneath sweat splotched fur. He wanted to run, but he couldn’t...one of those reasons very obvious of course.
To make matters worse, even though the death could be considered rather instantaneous and there was little worry Etoc would feel a thing afterwards, Sola had other plans. The great beast had leaned down and plucked the remains of the prisoner and ATE him, the sounds of bones crunching ringing through the Crucible. Did that really just happen? Didn’t Etoc deserve some sort of burial or something? Didn't they all deserve that?
Nil wanted to vomit, like another poor soul watching nearby. It was just...too much to take in at once, even for him. But it seemed he wasn’t the only one affected. Ruby eyes turned to focus on Isolt with her sudden movement. She had reacted much more obviously than he had, though he couldn’t blame her at. She had stepped forward to rebind the prisoner, an action that she had taken herself to rectify even though it wasn’t even her fault to begin with. He was sure Sola wouldn’t have even had a second thought and snatched her too. He truly hoped any ire after this was all over would not be redirected towards her...he wouldn’t put it past these Aodhians...
Perhaps it was to comfort himself, or perhaps it was truly to comfort his fellow slave, the male made a few subtle steps closer to the taller female. He didn’t look at her, eyes lidded and staring forward. His ear was tilted towards her however, a small sign that he was there to comfort her, and that they were in this together.
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Post by PaganStars on Jan 4, 2018 21:23:45 GMT -6
Undyne Let's sway
While colour lights up your face
Sway through the crowd to an empty space
  
x | x Quivering, Undyne didn't shield his eyes when the inferno erupted from Sola's mouth, setting the defiant stallion ablaze. The smell of burning flesh and fur hit Undyne like a wave, washing over them and almost knocking him over, the air ripped from his lungs. His eyes stung and he could feel tears prickling from the heat, let alone what was actually happening. He did not feel sad for them no, like he had thought before. They would be with Ignacio soon enough. but god's what was happening before him... it was... it was so jarring. His eyes flicked to the chevalier squire turned and lost his will, bile rising in Undyne's own throat. In the back of his mind, he wondered if the stallion would be punished for that.
As the flames died down, Undyne greedily sucked in a breath of air, nose stinging and almost causing him to cough as the air settled. Thinking it all over, Undyne turned to quietly offer another prayer with his fellow Sanctum attendants, only to gasp in fear as Sola descended once more and snapped the remains of the stallion into her maw, the sound of bones snapping ringing clear. Turning away, Undyne shook their head, unwilling to watch this happen again.
Post 3 | 214
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Post by mariahwhy on Jan 7, 2018 20:05:09 GMT -6
Isolt | Labor Slave
The slight movement Nil made towards her was almost imperceptible in the midst of the horrors happening in front of them. But the small notion of camaraderie, felt more than it was seen, was greatly appreciated. It grounded her in that moment, pulling her back from the image of the prisoner being devoured that seemed to be burned into her vision. Even when she closed her eyes it was there.
She kept her head down, eyes on the dirt of the Crucible, but shifted them ever so slightly to focus on the dark hooves of her fellow slave. She did not make eye contact, and she certainly couldn't make any move towards him. They were not allowed contact, and even if they were she was not genial enough with other slaves to seek such close comfort even in the midst of this savagery. But she could appreciate that she was not alone at the bottom of the food chain right now.
Her eyes remained focused, almost trance-like, on his hooves as the rest of her body remained tense. She wished she could shut out the sounds around her instead of standing here listening to the wails and pleads from the remaining prisoners, waiting for the screams she knew were yet to come. Hopefully the wyvern would not eat the others. Hopefully they were just making a point.
(Post 3: 227 words)
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Post by hey-stardust on Jan 16, 2018 10:50:37 GMT -6
❀
3 | 176MARGAERY | AODH | CHEVALIER
Oh the sun will rise like a flame ignites, we're not done 'til we say it's over,
we won't fade away.
Oh the sun will rise, tomorrow never dies.
Even Margaery was taken aback by the display, raising a foreleg as if to shield herself from the rush of heat that washed over them all. A brief flicker of hard light had appeared in front of her for less than a fraction of a second; the blessing called into action by fear and a deep-seated need to protect those around her. Her teke brushed over her sword, registering a fleeting thought that wondered if the beast had gone savage, and how in the hell she was supposed to subdue it if so; but, as she risked a glance over to Isador, the action died in its infancy as she saw he had not stepped back from his podium. So he knew.Nostrils pinching at the scent of burning flesh and swallowing back the bile that rose in her throat, the unicorn turned her head towards the two apprentices, neither of which seemed to relish in the execution of their cousin’s supposed assassins… If Aidan’s stomach contents had any say about it, that is.
harley - Today at 5:11 PM sorry i made isador a vore enthusiast
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Post by Deleted on Jan 16, 2018 18:56:40 GMT -6
sola ANCIENT WYVERN
SOUL-BONDED TO ISADOR
If the wyvern could sense their shock and horror, she didn’t care. And if she could feel their anguish at the prospect that what they had just witnessed was about to occur again, she remained unperturbed. The great beast was only truly attentive to her partner, and when he did not so much as flinch she growled from deep within her chest, her own hum of praise as her gaze swept across those assembled. She arched her neck as those on the podium quivered, but something within the mighty creature knew she would not grant them mercy. Once more her tail slid across the ground, teeth bared as she dipped her head, though this time, no fire was emitted. The scream that sounded -though muffled by the bridle- was sickening, and it didn’t seem to cease even as Sola’s maw closed around their frame, teeth tearing into it with ease and pulling away as the remainder of the prisoner’s body slumped to the ground. Without hesitating she was reaching down again, though this time she devoured the equine in its entirety, silencing his muffled screams as quickly as they came. _________________
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Post by Prismaticlysm on Jan 16, 2018 19:44:12 GMT -6
N i L
Ω Aodh | Labor Slave Ω
"When you doubt your power, you give power to your doubt."
~Honore de Balzac Ω
No one truly seemed to delight in the cruel sentencing, as Nil silently called it. The squire was sick, one of the Sanctum attendants had turned away, Isolt was staring at the ground as if her life depended on it, and the Chevalier Margaery seemed more interested in observing her apprentices. Isador was stoic, so it appeared. The King said and did nothing, which caused the slaves blood to boil.
The eyes of the King reminded Nil of the last time he had seen his mother. Merciless, uncaring, just staring at the child that she allowed to be taken from her. That she had purposefully given up. She would fit in Aodh well, if it weren’t for the fact that she was a worshiper of Digend. But at this moment in time, it seemed that those who worshiped Ignacio were far more chaotic. If this is what the god allowed happen to prisoners when, in Nil’s perfectly unprofessional opinion, there did not seem to be any evidence that these prisoners were actually the culprits. It disgusted him...and yet, he could do nothing, especially now.
He had expected a sheaf of flames to simply bathe the rest of the prisoners and let it be done. To allow them to enter Ignacio’s embrace. But no. The monster of a wyvern had other plans and Nil was certain that Isador was silently and emotionlessly reveling in the dished out punishment.
Once again, a prisoner entered the mouth of the beast, though this time, they were still alive. This was so wrong! Even if the slave was a follower of Ignacio, would the God of Fire truly accept this?
“This is wrong.” Nil suddenly muttered, his voice slightly muffled from the bit as he whispered to himself, though could easily be heard from Isolt and anyone else close by if she were listening. “This is wrong...” Unceremoniously, the small male turned and completely faced away from the wyvern and those who were gathered. He stared down at his own hooves, head slightly lowered, unsure if what he had just seen would be the last straw for his stomach. Heavy breathing was all he could do to keep the bile down.
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Post by mariahwhy on Jan 16, 2018 20:42:49 GMT -6
Isolt | Labor Slave
All thought had ceased in Ioslt's mind. Her own brain activity was like white noise. The sounds and smells that came from around her were all that she could process, and even that was too much. She heard the next preemptive scream, and she knew what must be coming. But this time there wasn't the awful whoosh and heat of the blaze. Just a sudden muffling, and as quickly ceasing, of the prisoner's cry. She did not need to look up to know what had happened. A tear slid down her cheek and disappeared into the dust below her hooves.
The third prisoner seemed to go quickest... but still no flame. This isn't how it should be.
And surprisingly Nil voiced as much. He didn't do so loudly, but saying it out loud at all could be punishable. If anyone heard him speaking out against the king and those that were carrying out his orders... she lifted her eyes in surprise to the other labor slave. He turned.
He turned away.
Even if they could not hear his words, he showed them. Nil had not walked away, but just turning around would send enough of a signal to King Isador and the chevaliers as to where he stood on the matter at hand.
Isolt looked now to those in question, panic gleaming in her eyes. She made sure not to let her eyes rest on the remains of those that had been on the platform. What if, in this gross show of power, the dragon decided to keep going and snatched Nil up for his disrespect? Really, though, it could snatch her up just for being a slave. It could consume the young apprentices for turning their heads. What was stopping it? King Isador?
Her eyes settled on the stallion, and realized he seemed to be the only one unfazed by all of this. He was not startled by the brutality of it. And though the heat of the dragon's flames still lingered in the arena, her blood suddenly turned to ice. This - King Isador and his dragon - was not the Aodh she loved. Her past kings had been kind. King Solaris. King Amadeus. They had been fair and just. This was not. This was horrible. She suddenly felt the imbalance of power that the other slaves complained about behind closed doors. She suddenly felt the weight of her bridle, and it scared her.
But what most scared her was her desire to join Nil in turning away. To really show them what she now thought about this practice. She had never stood up against anyone higher than another labor slave... and she couldn't do it now. She wanted to turn around, but could not bring herself to deny those above her. Her body began to shake visibly, the horrors of what she had seen and what she now felt crushing her. Her head slowly lowered again, this time not in disgust, but in defeat.
(Post 4: 497 words)
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Post by moonlightwalk on Jan 17, 2018 15:53:18 GMT -6
Aidan
Aodh | Chevalier (squire)
Just when Aidan thought it was over, the squire raising his head and whiping his mouth, did the wyvern dip down again and took the other prisoners into their mouth, this time forgoing the flames all together. Aidan’s stomach turned again, screams ringing in his ears. Why did they do that, he thought ears closed. He felt dizzy, teke pulling at his ears, trying to block out sound but failing. Criminals were cleansed in fire. Ignacio burned away all misdeeds. How could they even pay for their crime if not properly put on pyres?
Feeling sick, he turned on his hooves, ready to leave. “Tav, come,” he whispered to his brother, teke gently pulling at his head to turn, to shield. His brother didn’t need to see such things. He wanted to go home to his family. Be read stories and laugh with his siblings. Even the horrible boredom that was the villa was better than this. His steps faltered however as a horse he passed muttered their opinion and he glanced sideways to see it was one of the slaves. Weren’t they labor slaves? Aidan was half suprised they even could speak. He never had seen one speak at least… But then again he couldn’t remember ever really noticing a labor slave like this either. They were like that weird painting on the wall, sure it was there, but Aidan never really paid attention to it.
He frowned at them. What did they know of right and wrong? They weren’t Aodhian. Slaves were like familiars and other animals. Pets to keep, animals to put to work. He was suprised this one even had a concept of right and wrong. Had they been servile perhaps?
He looked at his elder, Margaery, eyes troubled, questioning, even as he squared his shoulders and tried asking in a steady voice. “Why aren’t they burned? Criminals have always been burned. It is as Ignacio expects.”
Post 3 | 321 words
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Post by hey-stardust on Jan 20, 2018 23:58:01 GMT -6
❀
4 | 186MARGAERY | AODH | CHEVALIER
Oh the sun will rise like a flame ignites, we're not done 'til we say it's over,
we won't fade away.
Oh the sun will rise, tomorrow never dies.
After hearing the last of the prisoner’s bones crack beneath the weight of Solas’ jaws, and choosing to believe Isador still held the beast firmly in check, Margaery turned her back upon the wyvern. She marched forward, addressing Aiden’s concerns with ears flattened and eyes blazing. “Dragons are creatures of Ignacio, who are you to doubt him?” She challenged, anger concealing her thinly veiled disgust. He was a fool to question the ways of their patron deity, in front of their king no less! But perhaps it was to be expected, they were Lilith’s children after all. Spoilt and exempt from consequences the day their feet touched the ground. “You have both failed today’s exercise, leave us.” Wishing to hear nothing more from the disgraced apprentice, her gaze swept over to the labour slaves, eyeing Nil’s scarred hide as he faced away from her. She could sense their dissent, but society told her they were nothing, merely a means to an end; which meant they didn’t have a dog in this fight, and never would.
“You two, clean this up.”
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Post by mariahwhy on Jan 21, 2018 21:40:02 GMT -6
Isolt | Labor Slave
"You two-"
It wasn't a name. It wasn't even a title. And yet the words instantly brought Isolt out of her oblivion. She was well trained to the vague lumping of individuals as a unit. But there were two of them. There was another slave that had witnessed this travesty. That thought, once more, brought her the smallest amount of comfort as she finally turned her eyes to the now empty platform. Or, it should have been empty anyway. It should have contained nothing but the ashes of bodies, their souls transported to Ignacio's sides.
Instead it was a gruesome sight. There were the charred remains of the first horse; just discernible enough as another equine to be horrific in its incompleteness. The second prisoner was a grotesque sight. An entanglement of legs lay on the platform, the front legs just barely connected to the back by a thin strip of stomach muscle and skin. Pieces of intestine were thrown out of the body cavity. The blood that had pooled below was already turning dark with coagulation, matting the hair that remained of the hide. And perhaps most petrifying of all was the third prisoner... or the lack thereof. No body. No ashes. As if they had never existed. They could have been a figment of Isolt's imagination for as much proof remained of their existence.
She had seen dead bodies. There had even been some burned and mangled corpses in the clean-up of the Crucible disaster... and yet that had seemed different. It had seemed clean somehow. Terrible deaths caused by a common enemy. Not their own king.
Isolt looked once more at Isador, but quickly lowered her eyes in case he catch her staring. She wanted nothing more than to run away from this beast and his dragon, but instead her legs began to move towards them in respect of Margaery's order. She could not keep entertaining such thoughts against her superiors. Climbing the platform, her stomach heaved as she stepped over an errant shred of flesh. But the mare swallowed the bile that had risen in her throat, unwilling to vomit as the squires had. She at least had more dignity than that.
Slowly and precisely she began to gather the bits and pieces of body that she could with her teke, her mind trying desperately to separate itself from the task at hand.
(Post 5: 397 words)
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