|
|
Post by FaunaFawn on Jul 12, 2018 15:04:50 GMT -6
Siamis
The Harbinger
Perhaps he should not have yelled across the desert, but it was of urgent matter. Though he was not a fan of eveyrone bombarding them all with questions and concerns. Maybe he should have left them to perish within the Oasis. They way to save a starving country to knock half of them off right? Siamis shook his head, for he knew it was not the grand design of what Digend had planned.
Siamis remained silent as many began to talk over themselves, and he mused at what a mess this was. None of them was prepared for this, but should there not have been a plan if things had gone wrong? Why did they all live in such a naive little bubble. Yet his attention turned to Adonis speaking of the weapon and this magical divine force of hope. While he would never stick his nose up at a Goddess' Weapon, for he had heard the stories of those that had seen her with their own eyes. Siamis greatful he was not apart of that club. Jemin was one that seemed to share a bit of his own thoughts.
"Jemin I want to live, and no offense, not everyone has a voice that could stop wars, but instead make them worse." he laughed a bit shaking his head. But Siamis was arching a brow at Adonis. "Are you sure this will work? That we are not wasting our times prepping for something else? Did you all not have a fall back plan? Or even try this out? I don't want this to all be in vain and at the cost of our lives." Siamis was shaking his head a bit. This seemed like a suicide pack.
WC:287 | Post #3 |
|
|
|
Post by FaunaFawn on Jul 12, 2018 15:16:39 GMT -6
  NoatakEverything came to a stop as Noa watched a pegasus speed in calling out for his Uncle. Noa stood still as the message was delivered. Aodh was marching here to the Oasis! Ears flickered to his skull as she pressed himself closer to the two adults that lingered near him. Suddenly everyone was talking and for a moment it was to much, and as he stood there once more his appearance seemed to go hazy as matched his surronding.
He wasn't a fan of some of their attitudes, being a downer never helped no one. That's what his dad would tell him! Noa kept an eye on his Uncle Donny and listened to his words, and watched him take charge and his chest felt the ease of tension leave him. His Uncle had the answers knew what to do! His uncle had the weapon from Alya, Aodh would be a fool to set a hoof in these sacred grounds.
A smile grew on his lips as he nodded a long and looked up to the two adults next to him. "We need to help Uncle Donny! We can do this together!" he replied with a smile. With that his tail was high in the air as she trotted closer to his Uncle and smiled brightly to him. "I believe in you and Alya." he whispered softly to him. Eyes turned to the two that seemed to mock them currently and his face turned towards a frown. "Dad always said if you aren't adding to the conversation in a good way then hush." he remarked with a scolding look. Noa shook his head giving out a snort before turning his head form the two aduls and back to his Uncle, reaching out with his teke he had faith, he ad seen Alya, bared witness to her and all her glory. Every ounce of his being believing this would work
Try: Positive Two Confidence WC:| Post #3 |
|
|
|
Post by SagaWolf on Jul 12, 2018 17:54:50 GMT -6
Ianthe
Planter, bird-call copycat and
self-proclaimed Adventurer!
  
Things escalated quickly and aggressively which locked Ianthe's legs in place, not that she wanted to move closer anyway. Fights always made her stomach churn, reminded her too vividly of Cherche and made her heart beat uncomfortably fast and her skin heat. Her curled ears flattened and she tucked her wings in tighter until Noatak pleaded to go somewhere else. That, thankfully, gave her something to do, so she shielded the little one with a wing and calming words, ready to take him somewhere less angry.
Then the argument escalated to shouting and drew in more Serorans, frustrated and scared Serorans but all their raised voiced did to the young pegasus was spike anxiety she thought had been conquered long ago. Her throat felt tight and her mind was a muddled pool of voices begging for the confrontation to end, yet she was unable to utter a single word.
Then - WHAM!
Ouusaldus punched Jemin in the face (which he sorta deserved) and for a brief moment, it looked as if the tension would finally drain away, until Siamas came thundering across the sand, yelling for Adonis, warning them all.
Hearing that the enemy was marching on their door did something terrifying to Ianthe, it robbed her entirely of her wits. Wide-eyed and terrified she stood frozen with one wing half-extended, previously a shelter for Noatak who had now slipped away, as panic raced through her heart. She'd never thought the war would actually arrive. It was one thing to hear rumours about the fighting and words from witnesses, it was another thing entirely to face the murderous army.
She didn't realize she was hyperventilating until Andine spoke to her, snapping her out of the freeze. "W-what? Oh, yes, yes, of course, you're right, " she mumbled, quite visibly shaken by the events, as she moved closer to the gathering crowd on stiff legs.
Ianthe had faith in Ayla, she was blessed by the Goddess and believed without question those who claimed to have seen her, especially little Noatak. So it was entirely possible this could work, but could they really make a difference? With just their combined wills? She took a deep breath and reached out with her teke, gripping the weapon tight and willing it to work. They had to survive.
Try: 1
Word count: 381 | Post: #2
|
|
|
|
Post by PaganStars on Jul 12, 2018 22:27:57 GMT -6
Ouusaldus Is there so much hate for the ones we love?
Tell me, we both matter, don't we?
  
x | x
Ouusaldus listened to Adonis’ words, ears flicking back at the uncertainty of it all. It seemed useless to him, to believe that the gods would save them. What had they done beforehand? Ouusaldus had heard of how the Serora people had suffered under the blistering sun, their prayers left unanswered. His own Trysts with the gods had left him wanting, left silent. It was only when he asked for a blessing was he answered.
With the life he had lived, he had little room for faith and misplaced belief.
But he continued to listen to the advocate, narrowing his eyes at the pegasus as he mentioned his wife and child. Guilt was a tactic that had been used on him before but it always ended badly.
His golden eyes shifted to the weapon, doubt clouding them and only building as Jemin, the stallion who he had just assaulted spoke up.
“This is only going to lead to our demise,” he spoke quietly, under his own breath. His golden teke reached out and lightly grabbed the staff.
Post 4 | 199
Try -1 |
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Jul 13, 2018 9:09:20 GMT -6
Sesil | Savior
Will with all of your might for this to work.
The plan isn’t just silly, it’s absurd, and Sesil wonders if Adonis himself believes in it. How anyone can possess of such infallible faith after constant cruel reminders to believe the opposite he just cannot fathom. He doesn’t think she’s watching. He doesn’t feel like a god, omnipotent, their lives for her but a blink in a timeline that has no start or end or a semblance of order, matter in such a way she’s demanding of faith so much as worship and active aggressive devotion. Sesil has never seen her glory himself, he had heard it and felt it, and for him she had always demanded action, demands for the capable to fight, survive, thrive. And he’s okay with that. This has been his perception since a very young age, and made him feel alienated among his own since his return. Even now, the ringlets of her blessing of air manipulation scratch sands around his legs as they ache for him to do something, anything.
He wished for something tangible. Whatever chance they had to block the tunnel has long gone. Even if they block it, those forged in the cold of Onea will break right through. It would’ve been busy work at best, something to keep the mind off the inevitable that was marching through the maze as they spoke.
He stares at the weapon. It’s a sliver of divinity. He’s heard the truth, then he’s heard the rumors, and if they ring with truth then he can’t even imagine the power of it, imagination utterly failing him. They had tested it, and despite of it still had no real clue how to work it, how to pry and ply its limits. In this Oasis Alya’s magic doesn’t sing, it screams, hollow and echoing constantly between these walls. If it has even a splinter of her power, then that thing may turn them into nothing but a bloody smear the second it takes them with it. It’s that, or nothing happens and they'll feel the cold bite of Aodhian steel.
Besides him, Jemin looks on with exasperated disgust. He’s horrified, if anything. Then, Noatak, who speaks with utmost faith and confidence in both Alya and his uncle and his eyes bright.
In fact, many join in. Their tekes all join, the colour of it on the weapon, sprawling over the scepter. Some of it is solid. Others, shaky. Some doubt. To some doubt doesn't even occur.
“If it works,” Sesil says, voice completely flat and no expression on his face, “I hope it does not rip us apart.” and a smoke-grey teke joins the rest, eyes on Adonis.
WC: 440 | Post #4
TRY -1
|
|
|
|
Post by PennthePony on Jul 14, 2018 15:18:28 GMT -6
Selora Ninares | Prisoner of War
She looked to each face, stopping longer on Adonis’ than the rest of them. What kind of game was he playing at by waving that weapon around and swearing that blocking them off from the rest of the world would save them?
The small mare was slowly losing her faith in these chosen few. Her children stood beneath her trembling in fear and the best they could do was wave that damn stick around and preach about how a collective effort would save them… how Alya would save them… yet where was their god now? Selora was losing her patience, her tired eyes falling on Jemin, hearing his belittling words. For a moment, she regretted her harsh words to him from before. “Momma, I wanna go home… please can we go home? I want daddy.” The blue roan foal peeped beneath her, nudging her mother’s inner leg. For once, the usually boisterous, self-confident filly seemed frightened and unsure. Sighing heavily and looking down at her children, she pressed her lips together before looking back up to glance at Jemin. In that moment, his distrust in the system made more sense than trusting in those who had attempted to keep her from her family.
“I have to side with Jemin, here… there has to be another option. What about our husbands, wives, and families? Are we going to let them parish out there? How can we just sit here waiting for the Aodhians to come? Blocking the only way in and out of here can’t be the only thing we can do.”
It was as if she had been speaking to herself. No one heard her, and if that had, they had ignored her. A worried expression froze on her face, the corners of her mouth downturned. “This is suicide…” Yet still she went unheard.
She could only watch as all the colors of teke, both opaque and translucent, shrouded the weapon’s handle, muddling together in a strange ripple of rainbow - both a beautiful and terrifying sight. It was as if the galaxies themselves were converging upon each other. Selora’s breath drew hard as a sudden brisk gust swirled sand at her hooves, her children startling beneath her. Young Ellecyn, knowing what was coming, ran out from beneath her Mother as the mare’s nostrils began dripping blood slowly. Reality faded from the prisoner’s vision, blurred by an aparation.
Bodies upon bodies were piled upon each other against the canyon walls, eyes upturned, some frightened and others relieved, but all lifeless and cold. Hooves, Wings, and other lifeless parts hung in the air, awaiting the perch of the vultures who swirled overhead, calling to one another in a choir of hunger. Walking among the bodies, Selora’s war-battered spirits broke, her eyes falling before her as she came to her knees, tears rolling down her cheeks. Before her lay her husband, throat slashed, and her children - all four mangled together, brutally murdered. Sobs echoed off of the canyon walls from her throat, mixed with a hacking cough from the inhaling of dust and fumes. They were all dead, every last one of them. Eyes of all levels of familiarity watched her in her heartbreak, and she could do nothing but succumb to the sand that gripped her knees, succumb to the voice that called for her from the depths below her. Slowly she sank to lay down beside her dead children and husband, resolving to allowing the vultures to take her over.
The glow in her eyes ceased, her two youngest children cowering beneath her, their eyes wide with fear. Blood from her nose had dropped onto Palette, who was now crying. Her chest heaving, Selora wiped her nose quickly on the cloak that rested on her back before calling Ellecyn out from behind a plant. “Children, come with me. You will hide in the Oasis and not move until i return, you hear me? Do. Not. Move.” She hurriedly pushed all three of them behind a wide bush with leaves that resembled oversized palm. “Do not speak, do not cry. I will return.”
Galloping away to be with the rest of the group, her lilac teke, starkly solid against the rest, joined the multitude. The time was now.
Try: Negative One Confidence
|
|
|
|
Post by brandvandet on Jul 17, 2018 12:33:22 GMT -6
|
|
|
|
Post by fynli on Jul 20, 2018 14:21:31 GMT -6
= Adonis =
5 | 179The weapon failed.
It failed.
Adonis stood flabbergasted, staring blankly at the canyon entrance. How could it fail? He was sure that everyone had been on board, there had been enough power…
His knees shook. Tears pricked at the edge of his vision, threatening to fall. He couldn’t fail this time.
“Try again,” he whispered, desperation quaking in his voice. He’d seen it work before, it had to work now. Tapping into his blessing, he reached out his spirit into the tunnels. Voices overlapping echoed in his ears, tones of fear and anger blending together. They were here and there were many. Donny prayed desperately to Alya to send some sort of celestial help.
“We have to try again.” He snapped back to the present, turning shining silver eyes to those around him. “Please we just need to try again. They’re coming, we have to give it more effort.” Sweeping his eyes over Jemin and Sesil - his biggest opposers to the plan - he held out the scepter to them, pleading for their assistance once more.
“I beg of you.”
Try +2 |
|
|
|
Post by FaunaFawn on Jul 20, 2018 17:43:59 GMT -6
Siamis
The Harbinger First
Windracer Second
It was within the chaos and desperation he found his clarity. The breaking point that would mean life or death for the herd. Eyes glanced around, as he felt as weary as Donny, his shoulder sagging forwards, it didn't work, he played the fool well. Always had. But he knew this was the grand part of the design. They could not see it, no they had always been so blindsided by their gentle hearts, so accepting so carin. It was their downfall, and it would be the their downfall here.
Siamis smiled as Donny, giving his best encouraging smile. Surly this burden must be heavy, the leader aimed to fail, for the Gods say it so. Eyes watched as Donny willed them to try to believe, such a shame to watch something so beautiful crumble before his very eyes. Siamis looked to the group, watched them, wondering what thoughts raced through their minds. So far it seemed as if this was doomed to fail, their spirits would break, and if not now, it would when the Aodhians, were upon them like flies to a corpse. But they did not see what he saw, how their is beauty in the fall out. How destruction always held everyone's attention. This would be no different.
Siamis nodded to Donny, reaching out with his teke, he was a fool that looked like he was moved by pity. He seemed to want to give Donny hope, more then he truly believed this was a fruitful plan. Let them come he thought, show Serorians what it is to be so blindsided by everything. They needed this, they needed to be brought down to their knees, so they could see the faults in their life.
Let Them Come.
TRY -2 WC:290 | Post #4 |
|
|
|
Post by SagaWolf on Jul 21, 2018 10:39:09 GMT -6
!Ianthe
Planter, bird-call copycat and
self-proclaimed Adventurer!
Nothing... absolutely nothing happened. Ianthe had thought, hoped that maybe she'd feel a distant glimmer of her goddess in the weapon, anything to give the gathered Seroran's hope, just a little splash of the divine would work. Alya had shown herself, she was no longer a distant entity which touched her people in dreams or through prayer, she was supposed to be there with them, now! Right? Wasn't that what her appearance had meant? That she was closer now, that she was with them?
Hope became a caged bird in her chest, fluttering wings desperately as she saw the looks on those faces gathered around. There was so much doubt, so much lack of faith. ...Did she even believe?
Adonis begged for another attempt and Ianthe felt a sob curl into her throat, one she had to battle desperately to keep down. Her eyes watered and the trembling fear returned to her limbs. It had to work, it had to work!
For a brief moment, Adonis' silver eyes met hers and she felt doubt fall away. If he believed this could work then she had to give it her all. She had to banish doubt and fear, she had to be brave. She had to believe, and why not? She was blessed, Alya had shown herself physically, the oasis had saved them before. She was there with them! But they had to prove themselves, they had to believe!
"We CAN do this! We will do this! " she said proudly, standing up tall and gripping the weapon tighter.
They would survive!
Try: Positive Two Confidence!
Word count: 260 | Post: #3
|
|
|
|
Post by leaftail on Jul 21, 2018 11:46:55 GMT -6
 -Taeith-
Slowly, everyone reached out with their tekes, the colors coming together on the weapon. There was a variety of emotions ranging from pure hope, like in Noatak and herself, to hesitation and even disbelief. The majority of those reaching out were in the latter, and for a second, Taeith felt her chest tighten at the thought that this might not work.
She wasn’t wrong.
After standing around the weapon for a few moments, nothing happened. There wasn’t even some kind of movement to indicate the weapon coming to life. They were all just standing around touching it, staring at each other and waiting for something to happen.
Taeith ground her teeth in frustration, once again finding anger in those who weren’t giving their all nor believed in the cause enough. If they were all apart of this, everyone had to be on the same page, and she was finding it extremely tiring that the majority just seemed to give up and give in to the fact they might end up on the losing side.
Adonis spoke first, his tone desperate and she could feel his pain. He wanted them to try again and by Ayla’s will, Taeith would once again put her whole heart into this. She didn’t want to end up dead at the hooves of the enemy or worse, enslaved for the rest of her life. She wanted to run across the desert, underneath Alya’s blue skies and feel the freedom she was born into. She wanted to trek into caves and canyons, searching for Kaia’s treasures to bring wealth to her herd.
But, all she felt was anger. Her ears practically slammed against her skull as she shot accusing glares at those she guessed were not giving their all. They knew who they were. Talking to them wasn’t going to change their minds. They needed proof; they needed action.
Before she could say something, Ianthe spoke, standing straight and flooding with confidence and hope. Taeith stared at the colorful pegasus, her anger slowly ebbing away. At least there was another who gave a shit about the herd.
Taking a deep breath, Taeith tried her hardest to calm down and reached out once more. Her teke slid next to Ianthe’s and Adonis’ shining bright between the two.
“I will not die to some overly righteous assholes. Ayla will be proud of her children. I will not let my family down.”
5 | 403 words
Try +2 |
|
|
|
Post by PennthePony on Jul 21, 2018 12:10:55 GMT -6
Selora Ninares || Prisoner of War
It had failed.
Her faith in the Gods was faltering. Where was Alya now? Where were the Gods they put so much faith in to protect them? The Goddess has revealed herself to them, had declared herself as a living entity, not just a whisper in the darkness… or so they had thought. For a moment, Selora blinked at the weapon that had failed, the group of Serorans around her that had failed, looking to their leader who had failed. At first, the swelling of anxiety and fear filled her chest cavity, making it difficult to breathe. Looking with furrowed brows to the others, who looked baffled that their collective force had not made the weapon that was supposed to be some sort of holy gift work, Selora felt a smirk come to her mouth, which she quickly wiped off of her face. A strange sense of satisfaction brushed her mind with a warm hand, as she saw all of them look baffled, heard some of them call out in faith. What did they think was going to happen?
Yet that chaotic satisfaction rested still there in her chest, calming the anxiety that swarmed. A deep breath pushed her chest and belly out, before she released it. It wasn’t going to work, Alya May have revealed herself, yet where was she now as her precious children fought for freedom, for safety?
There was a balance between all of the Gods, there was a force much greater keeping all the world in line. Constant chaos, change, and in turn, adaptation kept the world in motion, kept the balance at bay.
Adapt or die..
The thought made her mouth twinge into a smirk. Looking to Jemin, she cocked a brow, a strange, raw expression overcoming her features. She lifted her teke to grip the handle of the weapon once again, joining Adonis is this pointless endeavor. They were all going to die if they sat there and did nothing, but if this failed again, Selora knew better than to just sit there and let the Aodhians take them. Looking to Siamis, she noticed a twinkle in their eyes - a twinkle that seemed strangely familiar. She had seen it somewhere before… a vision perhaps? Within it, she saw kinship… she saw adaptation, she saw something she couldn’t quite place - something she had seen within herself.
Her head snapped to the left when the rainbow-feathered squawker she recognized as one that tended to hang around her brother’s friends and children called out her hope for success, her determination for success. Selora all but scoffed, side-glancing at Adonis. Settling a look of false hope on her face, she turned her head to look back at her children, whose eyes fearfully watched their mother as she fought for their survival, and their survival alone.
This convoluted plan would fail, yet her assurance of survival rested peacefully within her… something was coming… something was coming.
Let it come.
Try Negative Two
WC | 491 |
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Jul 22, 2018 3:23:45 GMT -6
Sesil | Savior
It’s strange. There’s no earth-shatteringly loud vortex of rock and stone ripping around them. There’s no rumbling of a brontide. There’s no scream. Not a sigh. There’s not even a whisper. Sesil had not expected the weapon’s failure to be so quiet, and it comes like a shock. In all honesty he’s not even sure it had failed until Adonis breathily states they must try again, they have to, the voice indistinct and far away. Sesil’s eyes go up, a slow drag of blue, and watches how the Advocate gathers all of himself to perhaps not cry and keep his voice from breaking. And he manages. He manages quick. Their eyes meet, and he pleads, “I beg of you.”
No, he had not expected the weapon’s failure to be nothing at all. Though he still thinks the plan is absurd only because his instinct is to run, a great part of him had hoped for Alya’s blind anger. She’s not just a mother, she’s a matriarch, and perhaps not the villain some herds paint her out to be- but if they so keenly insist, let’s give them a reason. The thought zips through his head, too quick to pin down but loud enough to linger. If this thing tears us apart, let it take them with us. Serora has survived far worse than what the Aodh can even hope to inflict, existing in adversity being their greatest act of defiance, and in the arrogance that comes with their very birthright the Aodh think they’ve got half a clue. The gall. And like a lightning strike the thought jolts his spine, his anxious cycle of urgency compels into something else with a force. It becomes anger. And being able to feel something again is like being able to breathe again. Suddenly it becomes very clear.
“Jemin.” He looks at the mule. Us, the faithless, he thinks. There are very few things they see eye to eye on, but that is something he’s always had an inherent understanding of. He gives him a look that’s that of thieves amongst thieves. A look that’s almost that of a confidante. It’s not the first time they’ve been in that position. It may very well be the last. “If it is not faith you can muster,” he says, half to himself and half to Jemin, his deep and heavy voice rumbling in his chest, “then let it be fury. Let it be something.”
The weight of his smoke grey teke presses on the weapon again. He’s heard of its power. He wants something. Anything at all. It’s not a question, and it’s not a plead. It’s a demand. He looks at Adonis and speaks to no one in particular anymore.
“The Niurros River will run red either way.”
WC: 463 | Post #5
TRY +1
|
|
|
|
Post by Blubber-Bun on Jul 22, 2018 14:32:25 GMT -6
Jemin
Hold my morals
I've got something shitty to do Jemin's solicitude (or rather, a lack there of) had always been a fickle, meager thing, dealt out in action rather than vulnerability. He was brash but he didn't intend to give away his hand at the first sight of Adonis's puppy eyes.
No, he kept his cards and his sympathy close to his chest.
With a skeptical crease in his brow, akin to the unimpressed look he'd give an untuned guitar, he listened as a child reprimanded him (" - bet your dad also said fairies are real," he remarked, tongue in cheek), as two young ladies voiced their dogged support, as the Advocate pleaded and swallowed tears. I beg of you.
"How 'bout you get on your knees next?" He offered with no shortage of irony. To think that he would be the one playing hard-to-get with Adonis was simple blasphemy. The scepter was swung closer, leveled to point - almost accusingly - at his disheveled mug. Red coils of teke reached forth, slowly tapping the weapon's edge to slide it elsewhere. Out of his face.
Denial. No words needed be said.
Selora's voiced agreement came as a surprise. He caught her violet, violent gaze above the crowd; her mouth curled into a curious, nay michevious smile. He wasn't sure if it meant he was 'in the clear' or if he should be concerned for his safety.
... likely the latter, as it pertained to this particular mare.
The brief rumblings of Sesil redirected his attention. Jemin held no trust in the Savior's motives - a sentiment that was entirely mutual, he knew, for he had frequently and unabashedly stabbed the larger mule's back - but he did trust his steady, if not harsh judgement. He was right, too; Jemin felt fury, simmering and cracking at the fissures.
Fury that he - they - hadn't acted sooner. Fury that anyone should lay claim to their desert. Fury that there was nothing else to do.
Fury because he was trapped.
"I'm feeling something, alright," he gritted caustically in response, combing red tendrils through his fetlock in what was perhaps a nervous gesture. " - feeling like this is a damn waste of time."
With a heavy puff of a breath, a sigh as though he couldn't recognize these decisions as his own, the musician approached the weapon - subtly avoiding Ouusaldus in a manner that was not subtle at all, but he surely wouldn't admit it.
The Niurros River will run red either way.
"Let's make it red with Aodhian blood, then."
Teke the color of rusted wine joined a myriad of other hues.
"... and not gray with our tears. If any of you start crying, I swear I'm gonna throw up."
Try +1
Jemin - Serora - The Folk
P 4 | WC 440 |
|
|
|
Post by PaganStars on Jul 22, 2018 23:34:44 GMT -6
Ouusaldus Is there so much hate for the ones we love?
Tell me, we both matter, don't we?
x | x Ouusaldus had held his breath as he waited, almost subconsciously drawing upon his blessing. He waited, eyes shifting from face to face and finally resting on Adonis’.
It didn’t work.
Ouusaldus had motioned to turn around, face fallen, to return to his wife and daughter and press a kiss to their foreheads, to gather them up and usher them deeper into the tunnels. He would leave them and do his best to hold back the hoards of Aodh soldiers. But he had stopped, had listened to Adonis and the others beg.
Whether he enjoyed it or not, this was his home now and in the ways of the Seroran people, they were his family. Taking a moment, Ouusaldus closed his golden eyes, inhaling deeply and trying to call on his connection to the mother of the sky.
Turning around, his gold teke reached to grab the sceptre once more, eyes cast towards the ground “For Aisling,” his eyes shifted to Jemin’s “For Primrose,”
He closed his eyes once more, furrowing his brows and concentrating “For my home”
Post 5 | 201
+ 1 confidence
|
|
|
|
Post by FaunaFawn on Jul 24, 2018 16:04:29 GMT -6
Noatak Failure wasn't something Noa really understood. So young in his age, anytime there was a misstep something gone astray, his father was there to tell him to try again. So to see his Uncle nearly break down in tears, he knew he had been like that too. Been sad and mad, that things didn't work out the first time around. But Noa knew the other role as well. The encourager.
"It's okay Uncle Donny, we can keep trying. I believe in you. I wasn't very good either with Alyas relic, but together we can do it." he replied repeating the words that had been used to console him in his time of needs. Noa glanced as Ianthe rallied the troop and a bright smile beamed on his face as he bobbed his head along with her cheer. yes! They could do this, sometimes things just had to take a few tries. Have faith!
Noa glanced at the other adults, some seemed eager to help, while others spoke of reds and greys. Noa wasn't sure exactly what they were speaking of, but he just hoped it meant they all were willing to give this a second try. Noa reached out once more with his teke grasping the weapon. "For family." he spoke out softly. For the whole herd in a sense was his family, even those he did not quite understand with their babbling talk. They were family, and they are stronger together.
Try: Positive Two Confidence WC:| Post #4 |
|
|
|
Post by brandvandet on Jul 24, 2018 17:15:06 GMT -6
Round 2
Attempt Failed! (Very close to rolling!!)
|
|
|
|
Post by fynli on Jul 24, 2018 19:03:14 GMT -6
= Adonis =
6 | 600Hope wasn’t something that was so easily crushed. Confidence, however, was.
When the weapon failed to activate once more, even though Donny was so sure that there had been more effort this time, it drained the life from him. His heart broke.
Dread slowly seeped in but the heaviest feeling of all was his utter exhaustion. It weighed down on his back, his wings unfurling in defeat. Serorans weren’t the most prone to giving up but facing the direness of this situation with a flock of skeptics, it wasn’t easy to force himself to continue. Rallying them the first time was difficult, the second even harder when they saw that it didn’t work the first time. What would make them believe the third time would work?
He let go of the scepter, stepping back slowly. His failure to influence them to believe hit him hard. Nauseating grief rose in his throat, threatening to choke him if he didn’t let himself cry. All eyes were on him, their leader, their protector. And he couldn’t save them.
He’d never see Yeshua again.
“I’m sorry. I failed you,” Donny whispered, his sorrow reaching out to everyone yet no one at all. He spoke to the air, to his Goddess. He hoped She would carry his words across to sky to wherever his husband was, sending him a gentle breeze if that was the last goodbye he could give him.
He stood quietly for a moment, shuddering as tears slipped down his cheeks. The hurt that churned in his gut started to boil, his thoughts running rampant as his emotions took hold of rational thoughts. The weapon only worked when participants had enough faith, when they actually believed it would set off. Donny believed there were skeptics here yet surely they cared enough about their herd to wish for their lives to be spared? Anger replaced the guilt, his heart beginning to race as he stared at the weapon. Those who didn’t believe… they were endangering children. His children. The thought of his beautiful girls being shackled and sold pissed him off more than anything.
Blue teke snatched up the weapon once more, ripping it from the grasps of whoever else was still holding onto it. He twisted on his heels, teeth bared as he glared at those present (save for Noatak).
“Whichever of you didn’t have the faith to make this work, you just signed the death sentence for all of us.” He passed his scathing gaze to Selora, whom had never been true to her herd’s loyalties. Then to Siamis, whom had been uneasily silent the whole time. Sesil and Jemin were spared from the most of his glare, Donny choosing to believe that they had actually put some effort into it.
“Is that what you want? For Serora to bend to the will of Aodh? For our people, who have wanted nothing but peace for the last millenia, to have their freedom taken away?” His words were angry, spitting them out like they were venom on his tongue. “You’re threatening the lives of everyone here, children who have known nothing of Aodh’s regime and war.”
He thrust the scepter back out to those around him, his silver eyes icy as he stood his ground. “I don’t give a damn what you think about this weapon but if you want to keep your freedom, I need all of you to pitch in. You want to live? You better fucking believe that this time it’ll work. If you don’t?”
Donny glanced back at Selora, his blood boiling in the moment.
“Then walk away.”
Try +2 |
|
|
|
Post by leaftail on Jul 25, 2018 8:16:24 GMT -6
-Taeith-
One by one, everyone put their tekes on the weapon once more. This time, she could almost feel that those who were skeptics were putting more towards the cause, at least...some. Selora was strangely quiet, her expressions shifting as much as the desert sands. Taeith couldn’t help but feel something was wrong with the mare, and she unconsciously stepped further away from her. Sesil had somehow convinced Jemin to put forth at least some kind of effort as the two focused their energy on the anger and hate they felt towards the enemy. The quiet Ouusaldus and the innocent Noatak were next, and soon they were all once again standing around waiting.
And breathing.
And nothing happened once more.
Taeith’s eyes started to water and her heart sunk to its lowest point. They had put much more effort into the weapon this time, what was wrong? Was it not accepting of them? Were they not worthy to wield it? Taeith gasped for air as she held back the sob she wanted to let out, Adonis already letting his emotions overwhelm him. The adovcate dropped the weapon and Taeith reached out to make sure it wouldn’t hit the ground. Her purple teke surrounded it as Adonis took a moment of silence, deep in thought.
For the moment, she looked around at everyone. She was proud of those who put more effort into the last try, though she knew it was a fleeting fleeing. With this last, failed, attempt she assumed they would return to their original feelings on the situation and they would be right back at the beginning.
Adonis quickly came out of his silence, snatching the weapon from her and whoever else held it. Anger replaced his sadness and she felt a shiver run down her spine as he stared at all of them, excluding little Noatak, barring his teeth.
The advocate’s gaze shifted to certain members as he spoke, Taeith following with her own eyes. He pointed out those he knew were giving everyone trouble, telling them they were everyone’s death sentence, words she agreed with. He shoved the weapon back at everyone, demanding for one hundred percent cooperation, a threat following soon after.
“If you don’t? Then walk away.”
Taeith shook the remaining tears out of her eyes, giving the weapon a benefit of doubt. Third time’s a charm, isn’t that the phrase? If it failed them once more, she didn’t know what she’d do.
“Ayla...please...your children are desperate…” she whispered, her purple teke back on the weapon.
6 | 424 words
Try +2 |
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Jul 26, 2018 6:27:11 GMT -6
Sesil | Savior
Nothing.
Sesil’s drawn and sombre features were suggestive of nothing good. They darkened, glowered, as the Advocate stepped back from the crowd surrounding him, moving with slow and unsteady step. The mule regards him with a grim silence. Their teke’s dissolve, sticking to the weapon like guilt, his own teke prune dark welts that glow nothing short of accusing. To Sesil, they are a matter of the sentence proving the crime. The weapon had failed. Again.
There it is. There’s the anger. That’s something the doctor can understand. It’s ugly, and it’s genuine, and it’s a far better look.
“Do not blame them. They are but ordinary folk burdened with something terrible, like you.” He casts fleeting glances around, not registering much of what he sees. “To throw away other’s lives is a last act of control over their own.”
There’s a hoarse and raw laugh that dies a sorry death at the back of his throat. No, he does not blame them for that, and he does not take offense. He didn’t believe the weapon to be the best option either, and he still doesn’t. But rationally, he knows there’s no feasible other way. They cannot guide an entire herd across a war-torn desert without supplies. They can buy mere seconds of time by blocking an entrance, a paper wall at best. Everything right now is buying seconds, the blink of an eye, a rattling breath extra. It’s not worth the effort. If he goes, it’s to save his own life. If he goes, there’s no turning back, and nothing to come back to.
He has no real interest in saving himself.
The doctor then sways his heavy head, his movements dragging, and stares at the tunnel entrance. A part of him anticipates for the Aodhians to appear right then and there, to turn around the corner wielding steel. But there’s nothing. Nothing but a yawning black maw where good things go to die. They mistake themselves for a behemoth, for all intents and purposes, and the Serorans are but an insect on their flanks to swat. An authority that was absolute. One they could never hope to topple. He was their blood, and he loathed it. A lick of rage goes down his spine. They’re turning useless with the way the world now turns against them. A part of his mind goes to his mother, babbling mouth pouring dog-eared feverish litanies filled with regret of his birth. Warning him not to give in to what she saw blooming in him when he was too young to understand. The prelude to his swan song. Sang in between sobs. He understood now.
Sesil turns back. He is a giant towering over them, his eyes ringed with shadows, a liquid dark. Ugly, lightless eyes that had long ago stopped wondering where it went wrong. Face scarred and lips pockmarked, a face that had absorbed the colours of the desert and the brutality of it settled on his features, drooping in eternal dissatisfaction.
Or walk away, Adonis snarls, eyes bright. There’s streaks of tears. Sesil deliberates. There’s a pause that drags by honey-slow.
I get my due.
“Either it works and they rot in those tunnels, stragglers roasting under the sun of their loving father.” He grits his teeth. “Or they come here, and are met with the collective rage of Serorans who wanted peace but dreamt of violence and revenge.”
His voice cracks. It’s nothing but sullen anger. Nothing but a perverse need for violence, to meet the Aodhians with something, to snub out the fire. This a divine weapon, but the anger unleashed will be blissfully mortal. For as much as some would plead using their weapon to protect, in the end, a weapon is only effective if it is fit for killing. Such is its purpose of creation. And they must wield it like one. No, he will not walk.
“I am exactly where I want to be.”
Twisting and coiling, the unsteady dark grey teke joins the weapon once more.
WC: 672 | Post #6
TRY +2
|
|
|
|
Post by Blubber-Bun on Jul 26, 2018 7:57:26 GMT -6
Jemin
Hold my morals
I've got something shitty to do Third time's the charm, as the saying went, but Jemin failed to feel inspired.
He was not surprised, per say, when the weapon miscarried a second time. If this pattern was indicative of anything, it would disappoint a third. From a life of trail and (mostly) error, he knew nothing ever did turn out the way he wanted, especially when other people were involved. Too many variables. Too much risk to rely on strangers.
After all, he should know a thing or two about reliability. How very fickle it was.
Adonis tore away the scepter in a fury, apologizing profusely for his failure. Jemin's teke rose once more for his tousled fetlock, now rubbing his temples with clear exasperation. "At least we can use it as a shovel," he suggested to no one in particular, "and dig ourselves into the sand."
It did not take long for the Advocate to reapply his steely resolve, now with a more colorful selection of choice words. The weapon was offered once more. They still believed.
Then walk away, the Advocate said.
For the briefest second, Jemin considered his options. He could stand with these folk and he could die with them (for slavery was no better than death, not to him). Or... he could run. It was always in his nature to run. Fury coiled in his throat at the mere thought of these people, defeated, but he could not save them. No one could.
One can only save their own skin or nothing at all.
The second passed.
"Gladly," came Jemin's response. "We should have left when we had the chance. Waiting is what got us stuck in the first place and I, for one, won't stand here with that stick up my ass, praying it'll scare off the Aodhians."
His eyes, dark mahogany less like wood and more like canyon shadow, swept across each party member in turn. Deftly, he snapped towards Sesil - the man whom he thought might be rational, might see beyond blind faith. "If your stubbornness doesn't kill you, I swear all your poetry will." To Adonis and Ouusaldus, he lifted his upper lip in a rather crass action, then fixed Selora in a thinly veiled challenge. This wasn't the first time he'd walked away from her. "... and you - if you're gonna pounce again, you better give me a warning." Dry. Of course it was dry, bitterness heavy in the undertone.
"Congratulations, everybody. You're real fucking heroes."
Feigning a sharp, sharp smile as though to wish them good luck, he twisted on the heels of his hooves. A crude snap of his tail, a salute, was the only parting gesture.
It had always been within his nature to run.
Jemin - Serora - The Folk
P 6 | WC 450 |
|
|
|
Post by PennthePony on Jul 26, 2018 11:10:13 GMT -6
Selora Ninares | Prisoner of War
Corrupted.
That was the word that came to mind as she watched the weapon fail once again, felt her lips twinge slightly. Their government, their faith, their God had failed her before, and this time was no different. Her grip on the weapon faltered as Adonis ripped it away, waving it about like a scarlet letter, pointing it at everyone as tears fell from his eyes. His words resounded on ears that did not listen, instead her teeth gritted hard, as the tiny mare stepped away from the Advocate, tongue poised to attack.
“I don’t give a damn what you think about this weapon but if you want to keep your freedom, I need all of you to pitch in. You want to live? You better fucking believe that this time it’ll work. If you don’t?”
Selora’s mouth curled into a smirk. His words were so predictable.
“Then walk away.”
Their eyes met, all of his fury curdling in those bright blue eyes of his, all of her malice building in her own lilac pair. She scoffed as the Savior spoke of his place, placing his teke back onto the weapon. She knew she should join in their conviction, but she found herself emotionless towards the whole cause. If they were going to die, it would happen regardless if they sealed off the tunnel or not.
It did not surprise her when Jemin high tailed it out of there, shouting back to her to give him a warning next time she ‘pounced’. A sharp smirk found her mouth, a chuckle releasing from her lips as her eyes found Adonis again, splitting her lips as her smirk wiped away, raising her head and looking at him through bored, half lidded eyes.
Her brand burned with the burden of that damned country’s banishment, and it gave her strength.
“Your country has done nothing but fail my family and I for as long as I have lived in this god forsaken desert.” Her expression twisted into that of disgust, her eyes glazed over. She could feel her blessing ebbing, pushing to release itself from the cage she kept it in. Visions of death, visions of those who had scorned her in bits and bridles danced behind her eyes, threatening to unglue her. A smile crept onto her mouth as she closed her eyes for a moment, seeing Adonis in a slave’s bridle refreshing her. Satisfaction calmed her, she prayed it held some truth - what sweet justice it would be.
“I fought hard for the rights of your people when the Pegasus were being sacrificed in Aquore, yet your goddamn government opted to brand and banish me because Osprey lacked a spine.
She jutted her chin out, stepping closer to the weapon despite it being waved in her face. Go ahead and skewer me, you coward.
“Yet I still stand here with the people that scorned me, despite your failures, to protect my children, my family, and this country’s way of life. Should I? Probably not, since what is expected of me is to go against the tide.”
A flash of pale violet teke appeared before her, raising it to the weapon.
“Let me make it clear, I am here for my children’s safety and their safety alone.”
Looking to the others, she tilted her head ever so slightly, flashing the brand she bore as a result of her past mistakes. “I will not be made a spectacle because of your leadership’s failures.”
Gripping the weapon, she pushed it skyward, away from her. “For my children.” For vengeance. For change.
Adapt or die.
WC | 600
Try Confidence Negative One
Summary: Selora thinks this is a big ol waste o time
|
|
|
|
Post by PaganStars on Jul 26, 2018 13:43:40 GMT -6
Ouusaldus Is there so much hate for the ones we love?
Tell me, we both matter, don't we?
x | x Ouusaldus felt his stomach drop when the specter did not work once more, furrowing his brows and looking away. He did not want to watch the advocate have a breakdown, felt damn near one himself. But he closed his eyes and breathed deeply, steadying himself. Only when Adonis spoke up once more did Ouusaldus open his eyes, listening to the anger and sorrow that buried itself underneath. He stayed silent, absorbed the words and looked to the ones the advocate accused. His eyes looked to Sesil and Jemin, linger on the latter.
Jemin’s biting marks made his ears twitch back, and when the mule turned on him Ouusaldus didn’t hold back on baring his own teeth, feathers puffing up as he drew his axe “you want a warning?" He let out a barking life, accusing "Where was my warning when you nearly ruined this second chance at life? Where was my warning when you insulted my wife and child?” his was furious, his blood boiling.
“Run like the bloody coward you are! If I see you ANYWHERE near my family after all this I will kill you, consequences be damned” His voice was hoarse and loud, drawing eyes. His axe glinted in the sun as Ouusaldus turned back to the sceptre grabbing it with his teke. His eyes narrowed on Selora “You are not the only desperate mother in this godforsaken land, remember that well, Selora” he spat, his turning to Adonis.
Damn them all.
Post 6 | 269
+2 confidence |
|
|
|
Post by FaunaFawn on Jul 26, 2018 16:18:03 GMT -6
Siamis
The Harbinger
Siamis would smile if the timing was right, but no was no time to smile. Even if chaos was now hanging over them, embracing them with each passing second. Oh how the mighty began to crumble in times of need. Watching them break down to their most desperate natures. He watched as Adonis yelled and threatened the group, such beuaty in the breaking of a fine spirit. Eyes watched as others tried their best to will some sort of desperate hope, it was all delicious in his eyes. Others, well their most primal instincts ran true. They ran. Others, well their mind was breaking from the fragile line between madness and sanity. It was all so beautiful.
Yet he showed no sense of what he was truly feleing, instead he looked meek and ears bent back as he looked desperately to Aodnis. "Some of us are afraid... We want to live like everyone else, but when death is so close, can you blame some for wavering in their faith. This is our last chance, the only thing standing between safety and the aodhians. I want to try and believe, I do."
Siamis looked down and shook his head. "But I will not leave, this is my herd, you are all family in my eyes, wanted and unwanted." he chuckled, perhaps he shouldn't make such a joke in times. "Third times the charm." he remarked trying to stand a bit straighter. He reached out with his teke grasping the weapon. Let it all break down. Let me have no idea who is with and or against the herd. Let them murder those that do not stand for them. Digend be blessed, blood will spill one way or another.
Try +2 WC:287 | Post #3 |
|
|
|
Post by FaunaFawn on Jul 26, 2018 16:33:00 GMT -6
Noatak There was always a disadvantage for being a child. That so many if they do not see one, can easily over look them, even if they are not standing around with them. When the weapon failed a second time, Noa, snorted faintly, and was eager to try once more, but that was until the yelling started. First it was with Uncle Donny, and his ears flickered back, and felt his blessing try to hide him a bit, wavering in and out of sight. Was this really life or death? Was he going to die with everyone here. Once the yelling began he felt himself draw back. No no no. He wanted his dad he wanted his little sister.
Others sounded desperate and he could feel it too. He didn't want to be gone one day, just like his other dad. To suddenly just not be here anymore. Tears began to fall from his tears, he wanted to go home. Others began to speak and he started to shake. "Uncle Donny I want to go home...." he nearly begged. He didn't want to be here anymore. Noa whimpered as he watched Jemin suddenly vanished. Eyes turned to Sesil knowing they had spoken to them, they seemed to get along. "Uncle Sesil, what about Uncle Jemin?" he pleaded. His head turning to keep an eye on Jemin, assuring he did not vanish from sight. Noa couldn't lose anymore, he refused to lose anymore. Eyes looked to Selora, and Ous. "Please don't fight Auntie Selora, and Uncle Ous... Please...' he begged them. They all fought family always did, but they had to be strong didnt they?
Before he could get a reply from Sesil, he instantly turned tail and dashed after Jemin. "Uncle Jemin!" he pleaded. "Please come back!" he cried out as he ran as fast as his legs could take him Please don't leave like others had before. Please don't go. Noa dashed forwards until one leg overstepped the other and the small boy tumbled into the sand, and laid there in the sand nearly sobbing. "Please!" he cried out
WC: | Post # |
|
|
|
Post by SagaWolf on Jul 26, 2018 18:26:23 GMT -6
Ianthe
Planter, bird-call copycat and
self-proclaimed Adventurer!
Ianthe felt her breath catch in her throat, bundle up and threaten to strangle her while her eyes summoned oceans of water, quickly spilling down her cheeks. She was not one to give up or give in! She was one to bottle up her feelings, bury them deep down below so no one would ever know how truly abandoned she felt when her mother and brothers departed the world and here she was trying to summon up some kind of hope, only to have it fail on her a second time!?
She stifled a sob, head hanging low, hiding behind a shimmering wing while her teke spluttered and faded from the weapon. She blocked out the erupting voices, vaguely heard Adonis rant and rave yet she was left doubting. If this weapon was to be their saving grace, a gift from the Sky Goddess herself, then why was it so damned difficult to activate?! Why did they have to grovel, cry and even bleed in the sand?! Where was the sense in all this madness! Aodh was advancing to snuff out their way of life, a life moulded in the Sky Mother's form and still, the weapon was lifeless in their combined grasp.
While voices rose around her, some more prominent than others, all Ianthe could focus upon were the faces of her siblings, her father and somehow Cherche snuck in there for good measure. Their breakup had been messy, but the rainbow pegasus wanted nothing but a bright future for her ex-partner. Giving up would spell death and darkness for all. Stories told of how Aodhian's would snip the first knuckle off wings, rendering any pegasus flightless for the rest of their lives, snuck into her mind. And following that memory, Ianthe saw all of her pegasus siblings struggling to fly in her mind's eye.
Ianthe did not lend her voice to those which rose around her. She did glance at Noatak as he raced after Jemin, but her thoughts were stuck far closer to mind. She had to try at least once more! Someone had mumbled 'third time's the charm' and she took that to heart, gripping the weapon tightly once more, while squaring up against that damned invisible foe, spreading her iridescent wings wide!
Try: Positive two Confidence!
Word count: 372 | Post: #3
|
|
|
|
Post by Blubber-Bun on Jul 27, 2018 16:19:36 GMT -6
Jemin
Hold my morals
I've got something shitty to do The accusations, the disappointment, the threats - those, he could brush off like any snake skin. Noatak, he could not.
As the insolent feathered nuisance came running in pursuit, he picked up his pace and hooves to keep the child from clipping himself or snagging them. Mere moments later, Noatak had tumbled to the ground in a pathetic, pleading heap. Tears rimmed his moon-wide eyes.
Please.
To leave his herdmates for nothing than the skin of his own back and a lack of faith, a lack of unity - that was terribly selfish. The world was selfish - why should he be anything but? The bitter irony of walking out on yet another child left bile in his mouth; he swallowed it along with his sentimentals and snapped back, pivoting to face the simpering boy.
"You can go tell Uncle Donny that the day I come back is the day these idiots pull their heads out of the damn clouds and stop kissing Alya's - "
It had gotten silent. Deafeningly silent.
"... ah. Ah ha."
The previously rumbling, concerted crowd had paused in their viewing of the scepter to verge in a wide semi-circle, clearing path between the whip-thin mule and the birdling. They looked on with round, glistening eyes - some with wetness, frozen panic, others with fury or a sort of glazed disbelief (and hell, he was pretty sure he saw his parents, again - frantically shaking their heads). They were watching, bystanders, as their country was ripped from the heart outwards, crushed by mountains of pressure.
Suddenly he wasn't so keen on cussing out a child. Didn't help that Noatak had just called him uncle, either.
It took several beats before Jemin regained his tongue. "... today. I meant today - I come back today. Up and at it, pipsqueak. We've got a family tree to review after this."
Backed by several poignant gazes, he slipped by with a begrudging drag to his gait, biting his lip as he approached the weapon and its entourage. He believed his 'final' words had been finite enough; had summed up his feelings properly. Even now, as he sidled up to them (taking extra care to put distance between himself and the axe-wielding Ouusaldus) his expression betrayed no remorse.
"Funny. This kid is almost as relentless as the rest of you."
He held the weapon in a loose wine glow.
+1
Jemin - Serora - The Folk
P 7 | WC 390 |
|
|
|
Post by FaunaFawn on Jul 27, 2018 17:19:10 GMT -6
Noatak Tear fell from his face, and he sniffled pathetically as he sat there in the sand. Was this really how it was to end? Yet suddenly someone was coming towards him, he easily assumed it was one of his other uncles or aunts, not Uncle Jemin. Who suddenly was speaking to him and the young colt seemed to freeze in their spot. Eyes wide as they looked up at Uncle Jemin, his breath hitched into his chest.
Though whatever Uncle Jemin was finishing up to say, everything suddenly went silent as he started up to him. "Uncle Jemin?" he whsierped so faintly, curious, but cautious around them. Yet Uncle Jemin was speaking once more, and bright smile was growing on his lips. "You mean it?! You'll come back!" he smiled all the more whipping away his tears as he suddenly jumped up with delight and nuzzled himself against Uncle Jemin's leg before the pair made their way back to the group. With Noa smiling ever so brightly, happy to have his little odd batch of a family back together.
Noa looked to the others saw their sadness and fear, and for a moment just knowing they were all going to be together made him want to be brave, made him want to tell them all it would be alright, but instead he merely smiled brightly at the pair. His faith never wavering when it came to Alya. For family. Always for them. His teke reached out for the weapon and prayed with all his might, this was it.
Try +2 WC: | Post # |
|
|
|
Post by brandvandet on Aug 1, 2018 21:13:45 GMT -6
The weapon shimmers as the colors of your teke on it meld together and then become a stronger glow. Gold and blue light emanates, reflecting against each of your faces. If you turn your head to see, the same light rushes over the walls of the Oasis as if harried along by a strong wind. As it passes, it paves the haven's walls to a glassy, unnatural smoothness that seems almost reflective. Bare moments later, it is done.
THE OASIS HAS BEEN SEALED
|
|
|
|
Post by PennthePony on Aug 3, 2018 13:17:56 GMT -6
Selora Ninares | Prisoner of War
graphic content warning
Flashes of blue and gold cascaded out of the weapon, and she could only watch as the only way in or out of the Oasis was sealed off by what seemed like a thick layer of reflective stone. As soon as her eyes fell on the crystalline barrier, her teke dropped from the weapon, her feet taking her back a few steps. It had worked.
She hadn’t thought it was going to work, after it’s failures twice before… Eyes wide staring at the barrier, Selora suddenly felt a burst of energy flow through her, her eyes glowing hot and bright as her nose ran red. A white flash came over her eyes as a vision materialized before her, the pain of the light on her eyes and the intensity of the vision bringing her to her knees in the physical world, at no other than Jemin’s hooves. She pressed her cheek to the unfortunate mule’s leg, trying to steady herself before the full severity of the vision took over, with a few tears streaming down her cheeks.
The pain she felt in her chest was relentless, making it difficult to breathe. When they did come, her breaths came ragged and forced - as if she had to intentionally push her body to simply draw in air. The dust that rolled at her feet billowed about in the dusk sun, creating shadows that tricked her eyes. As she took a step forward, she felt the crunch of something solid beneath her feet. Looking down, her eyes grew wide as she caught sight of small horse bones - a child. Rearing up and jerking back, Selora skid in a circle, trying to find a route out of this dusty chasm. More dust kicked up as she put her hooves back down into the dirt, watching as a pair of eyes watched her from the distance, something just below them glinting in the dim light.
Suddenly, a pair of wings unfolded, flapping once hard to clear the dust before them. Tears fell the moment Selora realized who stood afar… her husband, her love… he had returned from battle. He took a step forward, attempting to conceal a limp in his front left leg, keeping a blank expression as their eyes met. “ALEC!” She screamed out, picking up her pace to reach him. It seemed like an eternity as she ran across the dusty canyon floor, avoiding bones of men, women, children… the once beautiful country had become a wasteland since the end of the war. Many had deserted to other countries, others hid in caverns in fear of being captured by the Aodhians who now ruled their proud country. Any who had been foolish enough to find their way back to the capital were quickly captured and sold to the slave trade.
That included many of their leaders, her friends, what was left of her family… everyone. They were all gone. Her children had been taken the moment the Aodhians has figured out how to get through to the Oasis, Selora not being able to get them to safety as Jemin had pulled her away, saving her from the carnage. Yet she had kicked and fought the whole way away from that dreadful place, as she watched her children one by one be bridled and put into chains, her youngest son being whipped for tripping on his weak, young legs. She had wanted to scream, had wanted to break away from Jemin and run to her children, and fight like hell to get those chains off of them. But Jemin was stronger than her, and if she had been loud, they would have been detected quickly - both of them would have been carted off into the labor slave trade. So she had kept her mouth shut.
Yet now as she ran towards her husband, she had wished she had taken the latter decision - bashing in Jemin’s skull and saving her children’s lives. Now they would never know freedom, and it was all her fault.
Tears fell hard down her cheeks as she reached him, pressing herself into his chest as she sobbed, his warm embrace somehow feeling cold. He dipped his head down to pull her closer, yet the embrace felt… empty. When she had calmed down, she pulled away, knowing full well how bloodshot her eyes looked, how terrible she must have looked. He was no better off, with bloodshot eyes shielded by cracked glasses, new scars and wounds barely covered by a raggedy makeshift cloak made from a rot-ridden piece of dusty fabric, and eyes more tired and distraught than she had ever seen them. Despite his blank expression, she could see the pain in his eyes. As she stepped back to look at him, wiping her tears away with a swipe of faint lilac teke, his mouth switched from a tight line to a grim frown. He looked as though he would break down into tears. “Selora…” The disappointment, heartbreak, and change was evident in his voice… Her own voice cracked when she stopped him from speaking. “I tried Alec… I tried to save them… I-I’m sorry-“ He shook his head, taking in a deep, shaky breath. “Because of you, our children are gone, led off to servitude. They are CHILDREN, Selora. They did not deserve that fate.” Selora couldn’t look at him. She lowered her eyes as fresh tears sprouted, wetting her cheeks once again. “I know, I know, I’m sorry-“ He cut her off again with a loud snort, aggressively stepping away and crushing the sand beneath his hooves. “Enough apologies. I’m tired of hearing I’m sorry from you. ‘I’m sorry for getting us dragged against our will to Sedo, I’m sorry for carrying and child and not telling you, I’m sorry I’ve let me emotions come before my children, I’m sorry I LOST OUT FUCKING CHILDREN TO THE AODHIANS.’ GODS DAMN YOU, SELORA!! YOUVE SENT OUR FAMILY TO THEIR FUCKING DEATHS!” Tears fell down his cheeks as he tucked his chin to his neck, choking on his own words as he sobbed, his wings lowering to the ground in surrender. The roan mare stepped closer to her husband, yet he flinched away. “NO. Do not try to mend this. This is your fault. YOUR. FUCKING. FAULT. You-your fault, you selfish bitch.” She sobbed as she tried to step closer again, “Alec, I’m sorry, I tried to save them, I tried, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I love you… please don’t do this. Please. Don’t do this!” The dark circles around his eyes deepened all of the sudden, as he stared at her. “It’s already done.” And with that, he turned and started to walk away, his wings tucked loosely at his sides and his saddlebags clinking against his belly. Selora fell to her knees in desperation, screaming, “NO! COME BACK! Let me make this right!! ALEC!!! NO! NOOO!!”
As soon as her eyes squeezed shut in the vision to let her tears fall free, her eyes in reality snapped wide open, bloodshot as within her vision. She looked around wildly, her curls flying about. “Where are my children.” She demanded, yet when her eyes fell on the stone barrier that shimmered in the sun, the recollection of her vision hit her hard. The blood dripping from her nose had pooled in the sand, bright red against the burnt dusty orange. Tears came to her eyes, yet she blinked them away, being replaced by a strangely calm rage. “What have you done” Her voice was hushed, barely audible, “what have you done?!” She was speaking to no one in particular, the last of her tears streaking her cheeks. Her eyes flashed to Adonis, malice heavy in those lilac irises, and then to the rest of them who had wished for the weapon to work. Of course, she was aware of her participation, yet was also well aware that she involved herself only to hinder its success.
She pulled her hooves closer to her, realizing she was still on the ground beneath Jemin. When the mare attempted to stand, her legs would not support her. She crumpled back to the ground, her hair tossing to reveal her brand had blackened and raised noticeably more on her skin, glowing with a strange sheen that looked more like the shine of tar than a true glow. It felt hot to the touch, and made her visibly wince. She leaned against Jemin’s leg, looking over to her children before hiding her face from them behind his leg, her expression distraught and blood still warm on her muzzle. Teeth clenched and her mouth in a grimace, she closed her eyes tight to avoid the stares of the others. If only they could understand the curse that was this damned blessing.
WC | 1464
|
|
