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Post by Blubber-Bun on May 16, 2018 13:11:10 GMT -6
A SERORAN OPEN THREADScorpion Nest
 
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1701; between events of Ch. V & Ch. VI
Setting: Osulas, late evening.
Participants: Anyone hanging around &/or in Sedo
The canyon city comes alive beneath a setting sun. The market is bustling, the streets are lit by lantern light and the weather is pleasantly not sweltering.
But something - whether it be the recent arrival of Flock transferees, the buzz about Alya’s reappearance or the suspicious increase of scorpion stings (coupled with an alarming amount of stolen ‘shiny objects’) - is amiss.
This night just might yield some excitement.
ooc: spin this any way u want, guys! Open sandbox (ha) thread w/ some suggestions to kick off interaction. |
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Post by Blubber-Bun on May 16, 2018 13:37:30 GMT -6
J E M I N
In his defense, he hadn’t meant to do it.
Jemin hadn’t meant to set his trigger-happy scorpion loose upon the denizens of Osulas.
As he was wont to do when faced by consequence, the mule made certain to rehearse and restock his arsenal of excuses and alibis. It wasn’t his fault - it was the several bottles he’d drained the night prior, the liquid haze that had sedated his (supposedly) dogged senses. No, it wasn’t him.
It was her fault - it was that cursed scorpion who knew just when to slip away. She resembled her equine master more than he cared to admit.
That damn beast.
That damn, tiny beast. Fortunately, she was in sore lack of subtly. If not for the chaos left in her wake, to find her would be to pluck a needle from a haystack. Discomforted murmurings travelled the city in tremors - tremors that could be tracked, hunted, on Osulas’s complex social spiderweb.
Quick as a whip but tipsy as a sailor, Jemin slipped through the clogged streets, hopping clay vases and squeezing through sweaty flanks.
He whisked past a vendor’s booth, smelling strongly of fresh flatbread and fried vegetables. He heard the owner mention something of missing shards. A neighboring tapestry-weaver voiced similar concerns. He swerved past a parent and a simpering child - watched as they dug in her hooves and insisted, fervently, that they had been stung. Another victim crowded an alleyway, nursing an angry red prick between puffs of peyote smoke.
The evidence of her wrongdoings was obvious. He would have put up ‘missing pet’ signs, but she more so warranted a ‘wanted’ poster and - by any rate - was entirely unqualified for the title of pet.
And Jemin couldn’t write, either.
When the sky turned gold and his shadow grew long, the mule found his feet back where he had started; a backstreet past the main road’s bustle, wedged between a glassblower and a flower cart of herbal remedies. With a tired breath, he slumped his shoulder against the cut-stone wall, looking very much like he’d rather do anything but continue this goose chase.
“Got anything strong?” He asked the herbalist, who lifted a brow and promptly turned their cheek.
P #1 | WC 372
Jemin - Serora - The Folk |
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Post by promsong on May 16, 2018 14:49:32 GMT -6
mellie
Doing fine all on my own
Cause I know that this was right for me
post 1 | 264 words
Mellie had been out for a relaxing evening in Osulas, planning on picking up some ingredients for her dinner. The city came alive at night and she contently made her way through the streets. Until a parent and child rushed up to her, wondering where they could receive medical assistance for a scorpion sting.
"Let me take a look at it," she said as she ushered the pair to a less busy side of the street, leaning down and inspecting the wound. Scorpion sting for sure. "Clean the wound with a gentle soap and water. If it gets worse, go see a healer. I think you'll be just fine, honey," she spoke softly, her words calming. She tried to be helpful but was not medically trained. They thanked her and left to go back home, so she assumed.
Mellie continued down the street and looked into an alleyway, seeing yet another person with a red bump. What kind of vicious scorpion was wondering the market?
It was probably nothing, so she ignored it and found herself buying some different spices for her dinner at a small stand.
Sighing softly, she turned around and stepped forward. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a familiar face. Jemin. What kind of trouble was he causing now? He definitely seemed to be out of it, and had their last encounter gone a bit smoother, she would have approached it. But alas, it was an awkward high school reunion of sorts, so she suppressed the urge she had to tell him how great he was looking. |
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Post by fynli on May 17, 2018 16:20:03 GMT -6
= Adonis =
1 | 343It was way past the girls’ bedtime.
Donny quietly cursed and thanked in the same breath whichever god blessed his children with such high energy. He was relieved that the two had been born healthy and strong against the odds - however with high strung foals came exhausted parents. The twins (mostly Yemina) refused to go to bed until they had their run around Osulas one more time. Wherever Yemina went, her sister was right behind her. Donny and Yeshua coordinated nights to who took out the girls for their nightly walks, depending on whoever was the most exhausted from the previous day’s work. Tonight it was Donny’s turn.
He ambled along the city streets as his purple fledgling raced ahead, keeping an eye on her while he chatted with his sister-in-law. Embryss had been out and about as well, having spotted the trio and making quiet conversation.
“How are you and Jack doing?” Donny asked gently, humor overlaying the exhaustion in his voice. He was happy to see both horses adjusting well together, especially after his former superior grew wings and needed a few tutors. Embryss was patient and fun, the perfect teacher for him - even without natural born wings herself. Donny had seen the stars that she’d manifested out of thin air, their strength capable of giving her flight. It was truly a gift from Alya.
While her mother was distracted by her aunt, Yemina cantered down the stone street, her baby wings flared in excitement. Only a couple months old and she already dreamed of being able to fly like the adults. It wasn’t much fun to be stuck on the ground. Mom would always scold her and tell her not to run too close to the edge of the canyon but imagining that one day she’d be taking dives off the cliffs made her giddy.
Suddenly she stopped in the middle of the street, staring back expectantly at her twin as the others slowly made their way down. They were taking too long! It was time to run and explore!
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Post by loveboxer123 on May 17, 2018 17:20:53 GMT -6
M O E
❅Serora | Folk❅
 Its innocence when it charms us, ignorance when it doesn't Moe had been plodding along ‘stealthily’ behind Miss Embryss and Uncle Donny. The pegasus foal should have been in bed by now, but the stars called their name. And they wanted to know what was happening. It couldn't be said Moe wasn't nosy.
Quick flutters of their wings let them sneak along behind Miss Embryss and Uncle Donny, long ears flattened to their head. They moved on, walking ahead of Moe. The buckskin foal booked it into the next patch of shadows, chasing after the adults. Their lilac eyes shifted over everyone around them, making sure they couldn't see him (or they could and were just playing into the foal’s fantasy of high speed spying)
Their feathering ruffled quietly, hooves quiet (or attempting to be) on the rough stone. Osulas was surprisingly busy for the time, and Moe was happy they had lasted this long.
Continuing along, they passed in the shadows they found of booths and the occasional confused citizen. They were so good at sneaking.
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