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Post by Mad-Manx on Jul 25, 2018 21:45:01 GMT -6
Tzilia | Geminus | Mare
She was no negotiator nor mediator; she had no voice here. But she listened quietly, attentively, as the two sides exchanged words as quickly as one would exchange sword blows.
Tzilia was not completely apathetic towards the pegasi. Her own father had been born with wings, and she touched by Alya before birth by his devotion. But to act the part of an innocent after all they'd done; after imprisoning an entire city, after bombing civilians, after outright murdering a child, they had long ago lost their right to claim innocence.
Her body tensed as Faris surged forward to confront the stallion who held a knife to his throat. Though it was difficult to see precisely what happened from her vantage point, the unmistakable colour of blood became apparent beneath him, dripping from a wound she could not see. Yet still he held his ground, unwavering as he stared down their aggressors. As wary as she had been about their political agreement with Serora, she had to admit she held a good deal of admiration for the stallion.
"My Empress," she whispered again, this time the urgency overtaking her tone. No matter how minor, blood had been spilled; and she doubted that would be the last they would see that day.
With horror she watched as Klaudius' shield was released, singing through the air. Though they had remained somewhat reserved until now, Tzilia could not believe they would take the provocation lightly. Her muscles tense and primed, she stepped forward and awaited the onslaught.
_________________________________________________________________Post #3 | Word Count: 254
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Post by blackmetalvalkyrie on Jul 26, 2018 8:23:44 GMT -6
  
M I L O
Striker Commander of the Freedom's Flight
... ...
The minutes were dragging by, and nothing was seeming to be accomplished. The Talori didn’t command their Guardians into action against the Pegasai on the stage, and the Flight was holding back. His suggestion to talk seemed to be rebuffed with a comical note, as if it were funny that he was offering them a chance to negotiate instead of slashing their throats, or even better pinning them to the stone below and seeing what the strength of his voice in their face at close range would do. Upon the Sage tapping his hoof in mockery, Milo’s ears lay flat against his skull. He spewed such ignorance, it almost made the young Commander heave. Finally, Milo had had enough. He spread his wings wide and beat hot air into the faces of the hippocampi before him, eyes narrowed in frustration.
“The shadows? Does this look like the shadows to you?” He snorted with a bitter chuckle and gestured to the crowd and the stage they stood on. His eyes then made contact with Rycaron’s. “For years we tried to speak to you of equality, long before bombs were dropped. But you ignored us. You ignored the plight of your people, just because they had wings. Dedicated to Cascade or not.” He snarled, remembering his mother who had recently passed. She prayed to Cascade alongside Alya, but was treated horribly despite that. She was even thrown into Torrine for supporting the Flight, though she still loved Cascade. He took a step closer, his wings still half spread. “Actions speak louder than words, for we began small disturbances in hopes we would get your attention. Maybe then you would hear us. But NO. We still were refused. So forgive me if we had to scream to be heard...the death of your late Emperor and the transformation of your Divine was what it took for change to happen, all because you...” He snorted and took another step forward, his wings extended to cast a shadow on the hippocampi closest to him, still unarmed but snarling. “You wouldn’t hear us. Now, here we are in front of you. Demanding to speak, instead of starting another war. I don’t care how many or few of us there are. As long as Alya’s wind fills my lungs I will fight to be equal. Be it with swords, actions or words.” With his wings lifted, the group in front of him was in clear view of just how many weapons Milo carried with him. He was clearly more than ready for things to get more physical, but hadn’t drawn anything he carried.
“Keep your fins, keep your Wave Mother. No one should be treated as less because of how they were born. No one should be persecuted for loving their patron god. Hippocampi, Pegasus or anyone else. Our fight isn’t with just hippocampi. Or Cascade.” snorted the stallion, his feathers clearly ruffled. “It’s with anyone that condemns Pegasai just for being themselves.” During this time he noticed the Conparis making a feather shield around Hyperion and himself. He did nothing though, trusting the other Commander to figure it out. Finally, he closed his wings once more just in time to see the Defender fling his new shield at Antiope. Stepping back, Milo let out a scream in the direction of the flying shield, hoping to throw the object off course with powerful sound waves, the very same that brought the ceiling down on the late Emperor. Luckily no one else was in the way so they wouldn’t be harmed, other than a possible noise headache. His amber eyes then came down to rest on the Defender, flashing with anger. His voice was now menacing.
“No?”
... ... Word Count: 626 Post # 4 |
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Post by tarriedsea on Jul 27, 2018 13:38:22 GMT -6
 With Milo's harsh critique, Whit's mind snapped back to reality. He flapped backward, sheathing his arrows. What the fuck was he doing?
He stared hard at the Guardian who threw himself in front of the gray mare, then moved to hover above Hyperion in an attempt to convey his subservience and apology. But the Sentinel commander didn't seem to notice him, now locked in an intense verbal strike. Their words only faintly reached his ears. His eyes scanned the crowd, watching to see if the Guardian commander lined up any ambushes in the sea of bodies.
Whit had no business talking peace. Leave that for the commanders. He was their machine.
It was only at the Defender's solid deep "No" that seemed to reverberate through the entire assembly that Whit's attention snapped back onto the figures under him.
Though many paces away, Whit could practically feel the rage rising from Milo's skin. Antiope and Hyperion would remain logical, as they always did, but Whit knew Milo. And Milo would not let this slide.
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Aug 7, 2018 14:18:22 GMT -6
 antiope
she's never chilled in her life and she's not gonna start today
Nagisa flexed her magic to undo the spectacle the Flight had created, earning a sneer from Antiope's muzzle. The Primary's memory was long. She remembered Nagisa's silver-cold face from the crowds in the slums of Torrine. She had been a pest even then. It took extreme self control not to rush her, with the blood in Antiope running so hot. It was restraint Milo apparently was having a hard time finding, as she watched his tidal rage come flooding high as well.
Once a Striker, always a Striker. She knew he understood her fury.
Antiope did not engage her enemies, instead watching Klaudius. He was her great nemesis this day, the jailer who had gloated over her broken body, her broken crown, in the dungeons of Aquore's palace. Every time she looked in his face, flashes of the past few months seared through her brain like an acid.
The deaths of her squadron. The days spent bleeding in darkness. The exile into Hireath's most blasted wasteland, the treason of her dearest friends, the abandonment of her Primary. Oh the things the Flight had endured while the Talori celebrated. Oh, the things they would endure still.
Klaudius must have sensed the violence she wished she could do. He screamed at her.
She struck his shield from its whistling flight with the butt of her spear, but just barely. Once again, they were a perfect match. The gilded thing clattered to the stone, and instead of a counterattack, she launched her voice. She did not have great speeches like her compatriots. She had only a statement:
"We don't make war today." She wanted to still the blades of her brethren, cool Milo's Striker blood. "We say only this: The Flight is not defeated, and you are not absolved." She didn't land. The low hum of her wings continued as she hovered, her long tail waving like a battle flag behind her.
Behind her, the shrill screams of the Talori public were rising as the crowd made for the exits of the square. Realization and fear spread through the audience like a virus.
"Cascade herself could not bleach the blood from this country." A momentary glance to Nagisa sufficed to make the point, and she dragged her eyes across the Councilors' faces. Some stared at her with open hatred. Some blubbered. Some raged. Not even Faris's feathered face gave her doubt; Serora was complicit.
"And we cannot be killed." She reminded Klaudius. He probably had not expected to see her again. The thought was satisfying enough to make the journey here worth it.
The crowd of citizens was growing restless, frenzied as they tried desperately to empty the square. The masses were not concerned with the pontificating taking place on the stage, but were whipped into an instinctual panic at the sight of armed pegasi, and the stink of summer blood.
Antiope faced the council with her soldiers at her side. Behind her, and below her, the people of Talori grew hysterical, clambering over each other, wild with terror as mobs flooded out towards surrounding streets. Horses battered and trampled each other in the collective frenzy of stampede; pandemonium was rising like an orchestra in the heart of Inaria, and the Flight, though motionless, seemed to be its conductors.
post 2 | 545 words |
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Post by Dream-Lark on Aug 9, 2018 11:46:15 GMT -6
Rycaron had to resist the urge to grind his teeth at the stupidity dripping from the dragon winged pegasus' lips. "Clearly your reconnaissance amounts to nothing more than children playing spy, and you know nothing of what is actually happening. You just act righteous and assume you know everything about us and what we will or will not do," the Sage tapped a hoof sharply on the stone beneath his hooves, shaking his head. "For your information, change has been happening. A lot of it and quite quickly, more rapidly than most of our citizens are comfortable with. We have pegasi on the council and climbing ranks. We simply do not make a grand spectacle of everything as you terrorists must," he snapped, tone indicating that he felt like he was speaking to some errant children and not someone due any amount of respect, to either Hyperion or Milo.
He went quiet as Faris spoke up as well, but the hippocampi's attention was soon snagged by a quiet but commanding word, and the eyes darted to follow the glittering arc of a golden shield being thrown the air. It was knocked off course by an expert thrust of the hovering hummingbird's spear, aqua eyes narrowing as Rycaron stared at her. So this was the root of their problem now, was it? The lead flying rat.
He could sense the panic mounting from the people crowding below, the guardians remaining within Aquore being hard pressed to conduct the orderly evacuation that was actually needed.
"You are but barnacles on the bottom of a ship. We will keep plucking you off and tossing you away until you can cling no longer," the Sage replied, tone dismissive, refusing to give her the sense of superiority he felt she wanted. Gaze slipped to the increasingly frenzy below, his cheek fins quivering with a desire to help his people and quell their panic, but it was out of his hooves now. He didn't have the parade ground voice Thaumas had had, able to shout over such noise and be heard clearly, nor did he have a blessing to utilized to help.
Once again the city was plagued with a chaotic mob, and the Flight had created it.
WC 372 | Post 4
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Post by galekxy on Aug 10, 2018 20:07:48 GMT -6
Sentinel Commander
WC: 238 | Post 5 He watched as blood dripped from Faris' neck, eyes narrowing at the sight of the liquid. The blood of a pegasus was different from the blood they had spilled on the backs of those around them. "I think you have been blinded by their lies and promises of change." That was all he said, voice quieter than it had been before. His ears flicked to the mare next to the empress, and he took a step back.
The air was starting to fizzle too much. The crowd was stirring, and the guards were becoming serious. And then the shield shot at Antiope, and Hyperion shot up too. His wings snapped out and a few powerful beats of the leathery skin lifted him from the ground. He left the sword, feeling no attachment to it. It was no important, and had been more for defense than anything. He had to at least show a strong force with Antiope. They had to be a combined front.
He saw Milo's eyes flash at the defender, blood seeming to boil in their depths. Antiope had already deflected the shield, and Hyperion soon found himself at her side. The crowd continued to flee before them. It was a sight behold, and one that caused Hyperion pain, but it was almost a necessary evil. They had to be reminded that they were still being watched.
The herd could not be allowed to become complacent.
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Post by blackmetalvalkyrie on Aug 10, 2018 20:36:38 GMT -6
M I L O
Striker Commander of the Freedom's Flight
......
Amber eyes followed Whitaker as he relocated himself closer to Hyperion. They were no longer piercing, but held a light more relieved than anything. They did not want to shed blood today, although they were prepared to should it come to that. Milo certainly didn’t have a problem with it, his chest was full of air ready to release in a scream and blow anyone off their hooves. Finally, his Primary spoke. Her voice was soothing to his ears, promising what he had hoped...no war. Not today at least, he still needed to shape up the Strikers after all. Great lammergeier wings stayed half spread as the hovering mare spoke, the fury returning to his eyes. No, the blood could not be bleached from this sand. And no, they would not be killed. Maybe soldiers would fall from the sky, but the Flight will always fly. As long as the world needed changing, the rebels would always fly. Milo flicked his dreaded tail and stepped all the rest of the way forward toward the mouthy Sage until they were muzzle to muzzle.
“But your petty ship will sink regardless, we’ll make sure of that. Crushed beneath the waves you to love that turned against you.” his voice was soft, gentle even, as if spoken to a lover, but not without promise. As if he was fondly thinking of the day that ship would indeed sink. He then turned on his back on the Council and officers of Talori and leapt off the stage and into the air, allowing his wings to catch him before falling into the panicked mob below. He glided above them, calling down to them and suggesting they calm down. But no one seemed to listen to him, for they flinched from his shadow and continued to run. Narrowing his eyes, he continued to try and call down to the people, this time a little louder, only to be fearfully ignored once again. Now the stallion was pissed, his ears flattened once more. At one of the sides the people were running to, Milo looked straight down at the ground. No one had reached this spot yet though they were headed there. The stallion screamed straight at the ground, creating a leg deep crater there. The center wasn’t any deeper than he was tall. That froze the coming equines in their tracks. Most faces he saw were of fear, though he hadn’t aimed the sonic blast or raised a weapon at them. His hooves set down at the edge of the crater closest to the crowd. From the opposite edge, some clear blue water began flowing into the crater from a stream on the edge of the meeting place, filling it like a pool and allowing the water to flow around it until it reached the stream again. It wasn’t unlike a softly swirling tide pool. Said water lapped around his hooves as he addressed the crowd in a voice loud enough for all nearby to hear thanks to his vocal Blessing.
“We don’t seek to harm you. But we aren’t finished here.” he bellowed before taking wing once more and retreating to his Primary, leaving shocked faces. Some children had stepped into the pool while their parents’ jaws were agape, playing in the gently swirling water before being yanked out.
... ... Word Count: 554 Post # 5 |
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Post by foalish on Aug 10, 2018 23:54:06 GMT -6
F A R I S
Talori | Conparis
......
He listened to the last words said to him by the commander, but he did not take the time to heed them. He stood his ground, holding his gaze until the dragon took flight and joined the others of his faction. It was once the hyper-fixation from his tense state died, where he seemed to realize what was going on. No flight lay dead, none from Talori either. But a mass panic had suddenly struck the people below, sending them in a dangerous flee. Some were cut off, but he couldn’t see everything from where he stood.
The Conparis tried not to focus on his dropping stomach; that was the guards’ jobs, to fix. He couldn’t do anything, not from up here, for those people. Instead, with one glance at the Flock - having missed most of what they said, until after Hyerprion flew off, all his anger seemed to die. At least, the violent strike it had started with when the sentential had dropped behind his spouse. Instead, it was replaced by an overwhelming need to stand guard, protect.
A bit crudely, easing his way between his spouse and the horse next to her, he stood close enough to the edge, to be able to watch the events below them. A lump sat in his throat as he looked for a mere second, but he tore his gaze away to look at Thalassa; that was enough to settle the tip his emotions. He stood close to her, tense, waiting in case something happened. There were plenty pf horses around him meant to protect her, but he knew his death, if it came to it, was something the herd could move on from. Hers was not, if the last case came, he wasn’t one to let that happen. He didn’t want to entertain the idea, even.
He did take a moment to wipe off some of the blood on his chin with his teke, but it simply continued to run, so he did not bother again.
... ... Word Count: 336 Post #6 |
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Post by posy-punch on Aug 11, 2018 6:02:12 GMT -6
thalassa WHERE IS MY FAITH? MY CONFIDENCE? Thalassa had understood the panic. The cascade of blood upon her shoulder had been just as jarring and as frightening as it had been to anyone else. Eve’s scream was somehow even worse amongst all of the sudden rancidness that had plagued her, that had plagued them all. In the blink of an eye, the gore was gone, Nagisa stepping forward, loud and brazen. Talorian to her core. “Followed Cascade's words by claiming the pegasi as equals? Words do not equal actions though.”
Thalassa cringed inwardly at the tone. The accusation. Perhaps it was deserving; this terrorist’s words were only echoing what some of her own Council had said, what her own people were saying. “None of you have paid for your actions.”
The woman had to restrain herself from snapping. They had lost a great many too in the bombs and the occupation. Her memory flashed to Seven and his terror as the bombs rained down at the last sacrifice; at which a volunteer had plummeted to their salvation. She saw the children having to take refuge in the Temple; the untrained fighters amongst the Talori forced to hide away lest they be caught in the open.She continued to listen, silently ignoring what she did not wish to hear and rebuking what she did.“I will not.” She responded to Hyperion’s challenge to cut off her own fins. Her pride would not allow it, and perhaps that was even more so a blatant alert that nothing had really changed in Talori. That all that had been done was that the winged folk had ceased to be thrown from the cliffs. She watched with growing horror (though if it appeared on her face she did not know) as Faris stepped in front of her and then the the tip of the blade. Perhaps her worry for him, her care for him, would shwo in her eyes, but she said nothing to stop him. He was capable of holding his own. Thalassa stepped backwards, folding herself into Tzilia’s side, the scope of her attention finally widening to include all those present and to find the fear within the crowd, to understand that it was coming to a point, the dam holding them back ready to release. She had to leave. She would be introspective another day; she would mull over the Flight’s words another day. Tzilia’s words snapped her into motion. With one last apathetic glance at the Flight, the Empress was making her exit. Her teke reached out for Eve, beckoned her to follow. To come with her. To escape the chaos. But she did not wait to see if the Divine followed. She could not, not now. Faris wings would block her exit, at least initially, but as soon as she’d made up her mind to leave she was struck to stay in place. The chatter, the accusations, everything continued around her and yet something was horribly different. A few minutes passed. The crowd finally erupted, springing forth from their places in fear. The stampede. Thalassa remained unmoved. Something, something was off. “Tzilia, wait.” She said now, at the urging of her geminus. Thalassa flicked her ears to Antiope, listened intently to her words. As quickly as Antiope had finshed speaking, as Milo forced a crater into the ground, something stopped.“BROTHER, YOU ARE WELCOME HERE”
The voice seems to echo across Aquore. The crowd, in their frenzied shouts seem to ignore it, not even realize the magnitude at which She speaks and must be known. Something has happened at this moment. As if this moment was a turning point, the catalyst at which something had become True; at which something had changed. The storm, quiet for a time over Inaria, broke loose once more, the wild rain and wind contributing to the chaos of the stampede. Thalassa leaned into Tzilia’s side and finally gave her word for them to leave. She descended to where a squadron of guardians waited, her geminus by her side. 661 | 2 |
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Post by tarriedsea on Aug 11, 2018 18:38:36 GMT -6
Antiope had a way with words that always made Whitaker's veins surge with energy but his mind slow with logic. It was a quality of leadership that he envied; the patience to think well coupled with the passion to act.
He knew she was reliving the rage she had experienced in Serora; perhaps she was staring her captors right in the face. He didn't know. He hadn't wanted to inquire.
One - a goldfish-looking idiot- was the first to challenge his leader's words.
"You are but barnacles on the bottom of a ship."
Whit felt the anger broiling in his chest again and he pulled out his bow.
"We will keep plucking you off and tossing you away until you can cling no longer."
Like the world snapped, panic surged and the citizens stampeded toward the exits in a frenzy. Milo suddenly released a sonic wave that popped Whit's ears and created a hole in the earth. He looked to Hyperion for an order, not daring to step outside his lines again. His heart started to race.
But he heard the voice.
Like a flood the storm resumed, wind and rain slamming into his body. The crowd continued to stampede and Whit watched the Empress step down with her attendants. Their audience was lost.
There was no time to process the voice. Was he the only one who heard it?
He turned to his commanders and squinted at them through the gray rain, waiting for the next order. |
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Post by Mad-Manx on Aug 12, 2018 0:36:05 GMT -6
Tzilia | Geminus | Mare
The panic grew to a crescendo, was palpable as the citizens of Aquore milled below them, and Tzilia knew it would only be a matter of time until chaos broke.
It set her ill at ease how compliant and non combative the Flight were that day. Words were the only true weapon they had wielded against them; and though they could certainly hurt, but they could not maim nor kill. It felt as though that eerie calm before the storm had settled between the two parties, and though she was unsure how, Tzilia knew their leader spoke the truth; this was far from the last they'd see of the Flight.
Thalassa began to move, and her Geminus moved in time to her paces; one step ahead as she used her own body to cut through the swathes of people like a dagger. Her pace only faltered at the utterance of the command 'wait', and Tzilia paused, ears flicking about as she sought out what had seized her Empress' attention.
The words were heard, were felt, to her very core. Tzilia shot a meaningful, if slightly alarmed, glance Thalassa's way; although the crowds apathy would suggest otherwise, it was clear she had not been the only one to hear the otherworldly words. It was something to discuss later, but not here, not know, with sheer panic and the Flight still present around them.
Once more Tzilia fell in time with Thalassa's steps, silently escorting her Empress towards the waiting guard squadron.
_________________________________________________________________Post #4 | Word Count: 250
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Post by posy-punch on Aug 25, 2018 19:12:32 GMT -6
Your plot is complete! Stay tuned for a wrap-up journal!20 AP and 20 CS to Klaudius, Rycaron, Tzilia, Faris, Naasir, Antiope, Hyperion, Milo, Whitaker!
Halved rewards for Antiope |
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