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Post by kaiyacksoda on Dec 29, 2017 15:16:45 GMT -6
Newt & Cricket | Clarkeintotherealwild & hey-stardust
(I'll think of a title one day)
Newt & Cricket:
Newt gritted the thick taste of iron between their teeth. They could feel blood gushing from their gums, a place underneath their top lip that had taken a fairly sharp clip with an iron shoe. An action that finally made the twins stumble backward, Newt hopping into a slight rear to avoid further contact with their face. Their nose was beginning to bleed as well and they were sure they could feel the lower half of their right eye beginning to bruise underneath dark hair.
Cricket’s head was up high, ears forward and alert, yet he was anything but interested. Nervous was more like it. He could feel the pressure in his head begin to pulsate quicker than normal, and harder. However, the ringing in his ears was no match for the pub owner’s booming voice.
“NOW!” He shrieked again. “OUT!”
“Fine.” Newt said bitterly after spitting out what looked like a crimson-colored liquid. Their ears remained flat against their skull, brows still knitted in the direction of their larger opponent. A stallion who had seemed to make a snide comment in their direction once or twice, yet it would be a lie to say the twins were completely innocent.
While Cricket would snort and perhaps pin his ears if the comment were to even reach them, being laughed at would light a fire under Newt much quicker than what was reasonable. It wasn’t a rare occurrence, their temper was just too short and it often left them both more scraped up than it was worth. A consequence that would often leave Newt feeling guilty for involving their brother, especially when they knew he’d be riddled with migraines through the next day. They were strong enough for their size, enough to pull a plow and muck around some farm equipment, but being weighted to each other left both lacking in more than a few areas. Newt could suspect that those areas, were the reason that they were the ones being kicked out of the pub rather than the opposing stallion. Though perhaps it was also because they threw the first strike.
They grumbled something laced in aggression, yet was too quiet to detect and swung their front end around to face the door, Cricket it tow.
Post 1, WC: 376
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Post by hey-stardust on Dec 30, 2017 6:17:51 GMT -6
 CLARKE | WAR-FORGED | AMBASSADOR
Maybe I could live without it, maybe I could let it go. Boy you know I got a habit, chasing all the broken roads.
After a fruitless scouting mission that had gained her nothing but exercise and cold joints, Clarke had eventually turned on her heels to head back home (that is, to the nearest tavern); keen for the warm embrace of a log fire to melt the ice from her bones, and ale to lighten both the mood and mind.
Quick to order a pint and swig it with renewed vigor, Clarke rolled traces of the drink over her tongue and between her teeth. The taste of liquor left bittersweet memories on her tongue nowadays, but it was still nice to greet an old friend, if only briefly.
She mulled over the crowd before her, watching tempers flare and egos swell as the Forged were forced to co-habitat a space much too small for such things. It was not uncommon to watch a brawl or two unfold amidst such a place and a young hippocampus soon caught her eye, and she found herself thoroughly admiring their candour, while wincing at a stubborn need to take it - quite literally - on the nose.
Not wanting to look invested into either of the parties' affairs, Clarke did not stir from her seat until the door was slammed shut behind the twins; draining the last foamy dregs of beer from her mug and scattering a number of shards across the counter in payment. Slipping from her table, Clarke made her way outside and followed the twins blood trail with a concerning amount of ease. Looking up from the path, she called out. “Hey, hey you two! Wait up!”
Not waiting for an answer, she sped up, jogging through the snow melt to fall in step with them. “I can’t do anything for your lost pride, but… let me help you with that.”
She gestured vaguely towards Newt’s bloodied nose and blackening eye, gaze softening at the sight.
1 | 310
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Post by kaiyacksoda on Jan 14, 2018 14:06:31 GMT -6
newt & cricket
"You're an idiot, sometimes." Newt heard Cricket's almost scolding voice ring in the ear closest to him. "Yeah, thanks," They mumbled back flatly, unwilling to argue with their twin of all people. They could figure his head was buzzing with a fresh migraine anyway, so Newt figured they deserved the shot. They bit down, tensing their jaw while their vision dropped to the path in front of them, dark brows still furrowed in the same aggression displayed among the warm, fire-lit pub only moments ago. They were still humming with irritation and being shoved back out into the cold did little to mellow it.
When a voice called out from behind them, Cricket was already dropping his head to avoid the noise and Newt merely grumbled something incoherent while a single ear flicked backward to center on the words. Neither waited up, and neither made any indication of hearing the unknown scout. Unfortunately, when she stepped in stride with their already jumbled steps, Newt realized they'd be lucky to get out of the interaction, but a mumbled, "fuck off" was still their first attempt to do so. The stranger was a painted mare, splashed in white from the hooves up, and just a few inches shorter than the now glowering pair of twins, though her ears surely compensated for the loss. Her green eyes seemed soft and genuine, yet the look did little to sink into the two, both pairs of blue eyes still pointed forward. Though when she spoke, Cricket rolled them to a stop, making Newt paw the ground in a moment's annoyance. Brown curls bounced over Cricket's forehead as he shifted a glance between his twin and the painted mule, "maybe..." but he was quickly cut off.
Newt frowned, "No." They said flatly with a swish of their shared tail, sniffling as they did so, "I don't need your help, I'm fine. Go away." Dismissive, and typical. Cricket merely mumbled a quiet, "sorry" toward the mare as Newt attempted to pull them both back into motion.
second post, 339 words. |
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Post by hey-stardust on Jan 27, 2018 8:25:08 GMT -6
CLARKE | WAR-FORGED | AMBASSADOR
Maybe I could live without it, maybe I could let it go. Boy you know I got a habit, chasing all the broken roads.
Pride had always been the downfall of people in Onea, too stubborn to accept help even in the most dire of circumstances; so much so that it became a wonder to her as to how so many of them had ever survived this long.
Clarke quirked a brow as the twins bickered amongst themselves, slowing in tandem as Cricket pulled up. He seemed to pause at her offer, contemplating it, whilst the other remained thoroughly adamant that their blooming black eye was merely a fashion statement.
She snorted softly at Newt’s eventual rebuff, unsurprised, but reminded quite jarringly of her own daughter. Clementine shared the same passion for pushing the boundaries of others just a little too hard, and all too often.
“You really wanna go home looking like you lost another fight, huh?” The words were gentle, though her expression did not waver as she spoke, a crooked smile remaining plastered across her face.
It wouldn’t surprise her if the twins took another swing at the jib, but she was confident in her ability to sidestep the matter if it came to blows.
Being pressured to study medicine as a child had instilled a great need to aid in those who were hurting, but still, she would not push the matter further if they truly did not want her help.
As an afterthought, she threw her identity into the mix, in the hopes of sparking something other than aggression.
“Name’s Clarke by the way, don’t think I’ve seen you around these parts before…”
2 | 259
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Post by kaiyacksoda on Apr 10, 2018 10:27:06 GMT -6
newt & cricket
A step forward, but then their two dark ears pinned backwards. Their head swung around next, a short forelock whipping around with extra exaggeration. "I didn't lose." Newt barked back at the mare correctively, green eyes narrowing. Cricket's head raised quickly as they pulled to a stop again, his ears and bloodshot eyes settling quite naturally on his twin, brows raised in anticipation. Newt's tone was snappy, unkind, still on edge from throwing a few punches, and receiving just as many. The mule wasn't pushing the same attitude, however, their voice didn't need to bite at her. "Neewt..." Cricket pushed gently in attempt to bring them back down, but he was cut off again.
"They called us out before I coud hit him again, but the guy was still bloody too. I didn't lose, you saw." the smaller continued to reassure the painted mule. Newt merely frowned at her lopsided smile, their dark brown tail flicking with the same aggression.
Cricket blinked. A quiet, "I-I mean... I don't knoow..." as he seemed to mull over the situation in his own shakey head. Newt shot him a momentary glare but otherwise ignored their brother, ears pinned at the stranger as they attempted to suck the iron taste from their top row of teeth. They wondered if they should have ignored her too... but someone ought to have told her she was wrong.
She spoke again, and Cricket's ears (and a bit of curly mane) rolled forward in a momentary interest, he was tired, and his head was still pounding, but he was used to it. "Clarke." he repeated slowly, sounding out the unreadable letters, "my name's Cricket. That's s-similar, huh." the boy tightened his jaw and his gaze twitched as he connected the resembling 'CR' and 'K' sounds. Considering them the same way a curious child, much younger than him, would.
"This-- that--'s-- is Newt." He sputtered gracefully in reference to his twin who gave no word of confirmation, just an irritated hum stemming from the forced interaction. An aggressive, "no" threatening to spill off their tongue just for the sake of their poor attitude, yet they remained silent.
third post, 358 words. |
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Post by hey-stardust on May 5, 2018 21:49:00 GMT -6
CLARKE | WAR-FORGED | AMBASSADOR
Maybe I could live without it, maybe I could let it go. Boy you know I got a habit, chasing all the broken roads.
She resisted the urge to chuckle at Newt’s dogged expression, at the ire burning in their eyes.
Clarke felt their fire, and had experienced it herself more often than she cared to admit. With a herd so deeply rooted in sexism and bigotry, it was hard to simply let things go when the opportunity for change arose;
or at least, the ability to knock a few heads together when your point failed to get across.
She glanced at Newt, her posture relaxed and unmoved by their still agitated state. She spoke again, still trying to navigate and defuse the situation. “I never said you lost, but you hardly look like the winner here either.”
Clarke tugged absentmindedly at the fur on her coat as the breeze picked up, sending a chill across her spine. Clouds of vapour escaped from her muzzle as her attention turned over to Cricket, curiosity blooming as he picked apart her name.
The twins were a quaint pair, having been able to survive in such a place as this; though if Newt had anything to say about the matter, that position might not last.
“Yes, they are quite similar hey?” She spoke softly, hoping Newt might mellow out if they saw she was not out here merely to goad them into another brawl.
3 | 217
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Post by kaiyacksoda on Jun 24, 2018 18:29:41 GMT -6
newt & cricket
Their nostrils still flared as Newt let out a puff of aggressive misty breath. Their eyes still bore a glare that darkened their green irises far past normal, with their sight stuck on the unfamiliar mule. But they remained momentarily silent, and slowly began to forget a part of their tense posture as their brother began to speak past their ignorance. Cricket's head bopped upwards as Clarke spoke back to him, quiet, and unthreatening. His freckled ears rolled forward to catch her voice, interest defying his tired upper eyelids even when they began to feel weighted. "Y-yeah." He quietly agreed with her. He could still feel Newt's energy bouncing between the two of them. Newt could harbor an attitude resembling something quite hostile, and the feeling was nothing kind. But he knew his twin better than anyone, and to fear them was a ridiculous notion. On the other hand, he was learning that their wounds were a different story.
Newt wouldn't ask for help, too much pride. It would be surprising if they even knew how to begin a question of the sort. And it certainly didn't look like they were ready or willing to succumb to the help of a stranger, but Cricket chose to ignore their seething scowl if only for a moment.
"D-do you really know how to... um... h-help..?" An indirect question, but one perhaps reasonable as Cricket attempted to beckon "discreetly" toward his sibling's bruises and bleeding scrapes.
It took a moment for Newt to catch on to Cricket's question, but their head jolted sideways toward him when it connected. Their pinned ears now directed at him than Clarke a few feet away. But Cricket chose to ignore that too.
fourth post, 285 words. |
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Post by hey-stardust on Aug 19, 2018 22:50:12 GMT -6
CLARKE | WAR-FORGED | AMBASSADOR
Maybe I could live without it, maybe I could let it go. Boy you know I got a habit, chasing all the broken roads.
Clarke's mismatched gaze flicked from twin to twin as they both seemed to wrestle for control, curiosity colliding headfirst with obstinate pride. Her lofty ears were trained attentively on the two as they swapped furtive glances, and she listened in intently to Cricket's query.
"I can... lived here almost my whole life and see? Not a scratch on me." She murmured, turning so that her side was facing the twins, and lifted up a portion of her cloak to expose her flank for a brief moment; the skin beneath shown to be pristine and hair flecked with white.
She looked back at the pair, and seizing the opportunity as Newt looked away to glare accusingly at their brother, reached out tentatively with her blessing; blue tendrils began to unfurl and bloom across an open wound across Newt's side, and it began to pale as it slowly knitted itself back together until it was no longer gaping and exposed to the elements.
A small scar and a few flecks of dried blood still remained as she finished up, though with a little more effort she could remove the blemish completely, but she didn't want to push her luck without their go ahead; aware that she was already on thin ice with the pair.
"How do you feel?"
4 | 216
note: hope u don't mind i sort of made a start
w the healing, i can change it if you want
(just figured it gives us more to go off)!!
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Post by kaiyacksoda on Sept 21, 2018 19:26:33 GMT -6
newt & cricket
Newt's dark freckly ears shuttered inconclusively as they tried to decipher between pinning them at Cricket or shying at the warm sensation that was beginning to brew on their side. While they stuttered a moment in nervous adrenaline, they soon settled on darting their ears backward and swinging their head left toward their healing wound. Their forelegs danced in place a moment— if they could have charged open air, they would have. But instead, their ears flung forward and they snorted quite threateningly as their eyes shook between falling snowflakes. Bewildered at the presence that they swore they felt, Newt rounded their neck to peer at the new scar that graced their shoulder ... and they ground their teeth.
"What the fuck was that?" Their voice soon snarled as they remembered the mare that stood before them. But she didn't hold Newt's attention long, however, as within another moment their head swerved awkwardly to peer back at their side. "That felt weird." They mumbled absent-mindedly, only swept up in a temporary moment of surprise and curiosity did the farmer finally begin to forget their anger, and such an act caught Cricket's interest too.
His neck twisted to wrap over his twin's in an attempt to look at... Well, whatever they were looking at. Though he merely blinked wide eyes as he failed to decipher between Newt's old and new scars, but he didn't see blood... At least there, so that had to be good. But before Cricket could confirm his confusion, Newt reassured that they, "don't know what that was," quite bluntly. But their eyes soon twitched back to the mule— Clarke. Their expression now mixed with suspicion of a different kind.
281 words, post 5 |
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Post by hey-stardust on Dec 27, 2018 6:24:30 GMT -6
CLARKE | WAR-FORGED | AMBASSADOR
Maybe I could live without it, maybe I could let it go. Boy you know I got a habit, chasing all the broken roads.
Perched on keen hooves, Clarke danced backwards as Newt's forelegs were tugged up from their inert state, catching nothing but air and flinging a mixture of sleet her way. She had been prepared for a volatile reaction, so the action alone was not enough to deter her, and she remained within earshot of the two; eyeing over the last of the wounds and checking that she had not missed a single scratch beneath the mass of hair and blood.
Though only a healer in passing, she knew how dire the consequences of infection could be, and how quickly it could down even the stalwart of raiders (and in turn, their egos).
Reasonably satisfied this would not be the case today however, she released the blessing with a soft exhale and felt her body shake. Despite the gift it bestowed, channelling Cascade's divinity was not without its own set of repercussions; for it gives as much as it takes, leaving her exhausted. Still, she hoped what she had given was enough to sway a wary mind.
"Cascade gave me the ability to heal others, its why I'm able to do what I do."
5 | 192
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