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Post by Quackzilla...;' on Nov 21, 2010 14:27:04 GMT -5
Ophelia [/size][/color]  [/center] A small, lithe figure tread the lands quietly, narrow daggs clacking against the cracked savannah with a hollow thud. Her pace was brisk, eyes were ahead, mane and taill flew behind her. Definately, here was no place for an Earth equine: Death lurked behind every corner, quite literally, and the land was dead itself. A few old, dry, twisted trees were scattered about, tumbleweeds blowing by every now and again. The sand torn up by years of horses both fighting and running on these lands was blown about, swirling in miniature cyclones. The mare blended in seemingly well; her brown-gold coat with light dapples masked her in the immense savannah, which lacked both cover and water. Yet, the beautiful young minx, Ophelia, dared to travel here. Her desire to travel here made many laugh and taunt her idiotic thoughts; how could one simply wish to travel into certain death? But, to the young beauty, only one thing mattered: exploring. Perhaps she hadn't outgrown her girly, foal-ish nature yet. But, in a certain light, she wasn't all sugar and spice; she'd slain many a stallion before, a few femmes as well. It wasn't by an means in an act of defiance to her element, but as self-defence from either death or baring a Death's offspring. It still haunted her, in a sense, but she wasn't as fearful of Death now. Soon, she approached the center of the lands. Pace slowed. Gathering her feet under her bodice tighter than a simple standing stance, Ophelia peered about her. Infront of her, the plains kept going, an endless expanse of heat and dryness. To her east it still continued on, as did her south. Yet, to the west, sharp mountaintops tore at the sky with jadded edges and sharp point. Perhaps that was where creatures of Death made their homes. Looking around once more, she decided they did: in this huge expanse of dry heat, where else could they possibly be? In burrows? Sighing, Ophelia gazed down to her hooves, which were placed side-by-side, equal distances apart, like two perfectly crafted iron-gold jewels. Slowly, Ophelia drew her tiara toward the lithosphere, nares met with the unpleasant odour of dryness, rocks, and the faintest smell of blood. At first, her eyes widened, but she forced them shut. Antlers full, she traced the ground, curves and segements made clear in the dusty grounds. Minutes went by, and the fae danced, antlers always to the ground, scribbling out something with her tanned antlers. Finally, drawing her head from the scorched ground, her picture was evident: a single rose, with a full head of petals, small thorns, even a leaf on its side. Smiling, Ophelia again sheathed her aqua-green optics, and focus began. A deep power brewed in the pit of the Arab's stomach, before it leached down her legs, into the ground. As she felt it leave her, Ophelia's eyes slowly opened, as she watched a green-gold liquid-mist rise from the ground. In a slight puff, gold twinkled away, and the green faded; there, in its place, was a single rose, the drawing no longer on the lithosphere. For a moment, the flower remained upright. Then, in a swift motion, the petals and stem faded to brown, and it snapped, the top of the flower collapsing. With a furious grunt, Ophelia made her way to a dead, water-deprived oak, and stood under it, staring at the dead flower just meters away. ------------------------------ words ; 572 thoughts/ooc ; yay! okay, so basically ophelia travelled here to explore and try to bring back lushness. so, to test the "death level" here, she grew a single rose from the picture she drew in the earth (the drawing strengthened the flower itself). but, since it died in a matter of seconds, she realized how hard making the lands better would be, and how much death there was around her. taa daa! |
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Post by DANNY:] on Nov 21, 2010 15:18:36 GMT -5
The stallion stood above the shivering foal, eyes narrow and cruel but mouth laughing in a tone of despising and hate. "He's so weird! And ugly too!" The second brute sneered, jeering at the mix-bred nightmare and shoving him roughly in the stomach, so he fell to a crumpled heap in the ground. The third, more timid unicorn-warrior of the herd, stood a way back, watching from a distance. "What a monster. Just like his kin." The foal snarled at this, before looking down, eyes rimming with tears and muzzle clenched in fury. "Aw, would you look at that? He has feelings!" This was the final comment that was uttered, before they tied him up and left him by the border of the Field.
Night came. The foal stirred in his sleep, exhausted yet not quite vanquished. He stepped upwards on knobbly knees, tearing the rope with strangely-pointed teeth. The sensible thing to do would have been to run away, and try to find fortune elsewhere. But no, Rythm wanted revenge, and he would get just that. He betrayed the part of him that was good and destroyed it then and there. He snuck to the heaving chests of the three warriors among the herd, and shouted out;
"THE ONLY MONSTERS IN THIS WORLD, ARE PEOPLE LIKE YOU!"
And then he snuck into their nightmares, and slaughtered them- tearing flesh and crunching bone underfoot, savoring the liquid that was blood like so many of his origins had done before him.
He became a murderer.Rythm shook himself awake, clammy with sweat and hairs plastered to his body, wet and short. He lay on a hard, cold, still, rock, unmoving and somehow disgusting in appearance and texture. His gaze slid downwards, and he noticed his shaking body, his labored breathing and heaving chest. Ragged coughs emerged from his body and he clutched at the rock as if to steady himself. Looking around, swiftly and silently, he noticed he was in a sort of desert. How he ended up there exactly, he was not sure. He crashed in different places every night- to wake up neither caring what he did the day before nor remembering even if he wanted to. Why should this day be any different? He would catch his breakfast, kill a few equines, and then slump down to sleep again, begging for daybreak to arrive as the night was the time where he suffered the most, dreaming nightmares of the same night over and over and over again, haunting and poisoning his mind forever more. He had no aim in life. He was not like the others- he would not go on an endless and pointless search for Hades. Life had no meaning- there was no point in it. It was endless and evil and he hoped for it to end- for death to welcome him with open arms, so he could stagger back to his dam once more. He had many flaws- was not even that good a fighter. He did not understand how he managed to kill all those horses, take all those lives- he could not even remember one face of an equine he bought death too- except for those three warriors. The ones that called for him in his sleep. Ghosts of the night. He stretched, taking his time with every limb ad every aching bone, until he was strong and awakened for another day of murder. Glancing downwards, he noticed a tiny, thin strip of steam- at least he had remembered to do one sensible thing last night, and made sure he had a bath and drink for the morn. Rythm threw himself into the cool water, and swam and gulped gratefully, taking his time and all his effort with every drop. When he was finally refreshed, the brute emerged from the liquid, and galloped a few circles, warming up and gathering thoughts and bearings. When his mind was clear, he began to think, and smell. The Stallion caught the scent of a strong mare, and he began to follow it, lean legs and daggers keeping the pace with the ground- almost merging into the floor, being as silent as possible. He had the rhythm- knew each aspect of how to move when tracking prey. He was hungry, and this mare would be his breakfast. Eventually, he came up behind a large, dying tree. With a jolt, he realized everything here was either dying or dead- dry or cracked. The earth was yellow and hard, as was the sky for some reason. The whole area had a feeling of death about it- what was this place? Shaking himself of unwanted thoughts, he began to stalk towards the mare, head down and features contorted in concentration. He waited for himself to get just that little bit closer- and he knew that as soon as he was, the Minx would die. words: 832 thoughts: umm, took me a while, but its kinda cool I guess  Attachments:
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Post by Quackzilla...;' on Nov 21, 2010 15:56:35 GMT -5
The young minx leaned against the tree, expression angered. 'Why did I ever venture to these lands. Like I'll impact anything, or anyone here.' Now that she was genuinely looking around, the Arabian Antlaquin noticed that no one had come to welcome her into the lands. No males stalked her as they did in the forests and meadows of her homeland. No fillies sneered and teased as she passed. Perhaps it was all a lie. Lying about how nightmares and toxic paints and chimaeras took up shelter here, to conceal something so much bigger. Suddenly, Ophelia's eyes brightened, and she stood up straight, peering over the lands. 'If this place is just a bundle of lies, I could be the one to unveil it.'[/color] They - the earth equines, death equines, everyone - all thought of Ophelia as an airhead; but no longer shall they. Her plan was already formulating. She would enlist the help of all elements: fire, earth, water, air, but not death. They would team together, bring life to the land. Ophelia, now giddy with excitement, peered over the lands, imagining the plains lush with grass and streams and trees, equines of all elements grazing. Turning her sculpted cranium to the mountains, she no longer saw sharpened teeth sprouting from the lithosphere; no, she saw the mountains rushing with clear streams, green at this distance because of the pines growing on its rocky surface. The caves would be home to many a pegasus. These lands would thrive with greenery and creatures, ponds, everything needed for a life in peace. And Ophelia would rule on high in the paradise, standing regally beside her mate. Mate.Her thoughts were erased and she snapped back to reality, a far-off sigh emitted from her maw. A mate was something she dearly wanted but couldn't find: she never knew if a stallion only wanted her for her looks, if they only wanted her for her powerful abilities with her element, or her full rack of antlers. It seemed males always wanted Ophelia for her broodmare qualities. 'Then again, who would want me for my personality?'[/color] It was true enough; Ophelia was often stupid and playful, and when she wasn't she was either jealous or furious for some idiotic reason. 'Then again, no one could ever think down of me if I were Queen.'[/color] Again her thoughts were back to fixing the lands around her. If only she could heal these lands, the Kings and Queens of the elements themselves would bow their heads to her. And she could even see the mighty Zeus slowly walking toward her. Suddenly, the sharp coppery smell of blood and sweat hurled Ophelia to the present, and Zeu's form melted to give way to an ebony-black stallion. Very little ivory spilled onto his pelt, and his eyes were fiery and burrowed into Ophelia's own. The minx's heart thundered, the stallion nearing fast. Springing away with the agility of a young doe, Ophelia half-reared, pivoting on delicate daggs. As her front legs came back to earth, her cranium followed, antlers stretched toward the stallion. Body tensed, Ophelia tried to make sense of what had happened. It terrified her, of course; she'd never been quite so close to a Death equine. Well, she had before, yet they were colts who were only looking for the mare to bare their offspring, something to tease and flood with their seed for a night or two. But this stallion was different: his eyes held something Ophelia had only seen during the Antlaquin rutting season. When two males faced off, antlers down, their eyes lit with a fire: fight. The Death equine had fight in his eyes, like a puma about to take out its prey. But, today, Ophelia wasn't about to be a meal. Peering up, she could see him standing over her, and she leapt forward, antlers nearly scraping his neck. Muscles tensed and prepared to charge, Ophelia's voice was infuriated, though she was panicked. "Take your business of dealing Death elsewhere, Colt; I will take you down before you dare to touch me."[/color] ------------------------------ words ; 680 on the dot :3 thoughts/ooc ; oph's pissed xD |
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Post by DANNY:] on Nov 22, 2010 15:42:31 GMT -5
She seemed to be in a daydream, thoughts elsewhere and guard down. It was a dangerous thing to do in a place riddled with evil creatures- although most of them lived in hiding now, in fear of those angered Gods. Rythm was not scared. He did not feel fear, nor pain or even love. Most of the feelings were burnt out now, reduced to a pulp and grinded until they just about faded away. His face was hardened and its surface scarred, eyes blunt and un-gleaming. The only thing good that came from having a blank face was the ability to deceive and lie, to hide his expressions from others. None could tell whether he was lying or simply stating fact, as the two were easily mistaken for another when listening to the Brute.
He was startled when she turned to face him, eyes burning and head held high and proud. But she seemed much more spooked than he was, and she darted up to him, slashing with her- horns? No, they were more like antlers. She must have been an antalaquin, although she seemed much more fool hardy and brave than most of the serene, quiet Antalaquins who grazed in herds. Her tongue flicked, and cruel words emitted from her maw. Rythm barely registered them, his once-sharp audits were now heavy and only almost audible. His nares breathed in and out, steadily and smoothly as she spoke. He inhaled her clean, fresh scent and noticed his own murky, darker scent in contrast to hers. He snorted at the impact of combined scents, before ducking from the wrath of her antlers and stepping neatly to the side of her. When she called him a colt, he only laughed, a terrible wailing sound that echoed out into the open land. I am hardly a colt. I have lived five winters, vixen, and killed many colts myself- along side the numerous stallions and mares that just happen to cross my path. You are but that to me- another number to add to the list of dead, and you will soon be forgotten.
He smirked in a dangerous manner, stomach rumbling as if to dampen the situation a little more. He meant those words, but what she saw in them he did not care. If it came to it, he would pretend to be defeated, and then come back whilst she slept, slaughtering her in nightmare and dream. Either way he would get his food- whether it be breakfast or dinner.
word count: 417
thoughts: sorry Quack, for the very very crappy post. I'm tired and have just done a looooong reply for another site.
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Post by Quackzilla...;' on Nov 28, 2010 17:27:31 GMT -5
Ophelia stood in complete stillness, never blinking, never twitching. The sun's rays rained down, scorching her coat. Silently, the Antlaquin's teal-green-grey optics examined the tall, sleek Nightmare cross. He was built solidly, with large muscles, sturdy legs and a broad chest. His legs were well muscled, and his haunches were large and powerful. His head was large and draft-like, and his teeth were long and sharp like a snake's fangs. The long curtains of hair that flowed from his muscular nape and rump were tangled and knotted, with curls and knots throughout it. His whole stature was coated in a fine black pelt, which had no hints of brown or white. The only white on all of his body was a single star and coronet band, both of which stood out like sore thumbs on the stallion's shiny coat. The brute wasn't draft-like enough to be a Nightmare, yet he wasn't Arabian-looking like a Toxic Paint. The combination of the two wasn't only time-hampering, but also deadly. There was no way Ophelia would get out of here alive.
So she ran.
Yes, the idea wasn't too bright, but even though Ophelia's brain could conquer the stallion's brawn, he would still attack. So, in a swift, beautiful turn, Ophelia launched herself away, legs pedaling with amazing speed to propel the Arab away. Though she didn't enjoy fleeing, she didn't have any choice: he was stronger than her, and his powers could potentially end her life in a matter of seconds. Thankfully, because of her Arabian heritage, Ophelia wasn't getting tired in the least. When she finally did stop, she'd reached the mountains, where she learned her previous thoughts were correct. She could hear the bat-like chitter of Nightmares, and shrieks of the death creatures feasting on equines. Finding an large, abandoned cavern, Ophelia quickly scribbled trees into the ground, and put all of her mind into growing trees. Luckily, because of her tremendous speed, Ophelia had enough of a start to manage to grow three large jungle trees. They blocked the cavern's entrance, with the vines serving as a net to entangle any who'd break in. They wilted, causing a little less protection, but Ophelia was glad just to be safe. Slumping against the cave's cool wall, Ophelia panted, mind and body exhausted.
---------- Words ; 381(sorry x,x) Thoughts/OOC ; is addi gonna hop in with hades? if so, should rythm get to the cave and be all "ur cornered" and then hades comes, breaks oph out and runs away with her? idk. you pm addi x3 |
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