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discord and all [any/open] - Harmonia - 09-29-2016
[style].surgerypic{background-image:url("https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/0d/93/b7/0d93b788af730647d349daea8bdcd8c8.jpg");width:500px;height:750px;z-index:1;border:black solid 1px}.surgerytext{z-index:2;width:350px;height:300px;position:relative;top:0px;overflow-y:auto;color:#CC4A3C;text-align:justify;font-family:times;}.surgeryname{z-index:3;position:relative;top:390px;color:#ffffff;font-family:times;letter-spacing:6px;}[/style]<center><div class="surgerypic"><div class="surgerytext">The Mountain was a breath of fresh air.
What a stereotype, that a looming creature like the mountain could bring such salvation. Harmonia knew when she awoke on it that something had shifted, but it wasn't until it stole her magic that she learned to be angry.
It's why she had no problem following Carnage into his wasteland, Pangea.
But despite the promise the barren land had when it came to really sticking it to the fairies, she longed for the magic to flow through her veins. It took only a moment for her to remember the way to the Mountain, and after not too long it loomed - ominous and daunting - in the distance. She's not used to walking (who walked with magic?) but she was learning to, building her endurance, heading to the Mountain.
After the threshold she took a deep breath.
Clean.
</div><div class="surgeryname">harmonia. surgery.
when the pied piper calls, you come</div></div></center>
RE: discord and all [any/open] - Lagertha - 10-10-2016
Lagertha hardly needed an excuse to be angry. Ah, well, perhaps <i>angry</i> isn’t the right word. Bitter. Resentful. Skeptical. Annoyed. Ah, fuck it – Lagertha rolls in shades of angry. The only thing that changes is what she’s angry about.
All that anger is awfully useful for a General. Fuel for the fire, or something like that. Right now, the fire that burns is a desire to have her armor back. The gray, scarred mare is perfectly capable of fighting without her armor, but there’s a certain comfort in knowing that she always has protection in her back pocket. They don’t need any sort of ‘protection’ right now, but old habits die painfully slow, and as she hauls herself up the Mountain, there is a sort of tingling in her legs. Is it…?
Her thoughts provide the impetus, and a thin, layer of iron chainmail surges up her forelegs. Lagertha laughs out loud – a cry of joy which echoes across the sparsely populated plateau. She pauses, somewhere between halfway and three-quarters of the way up the mountain. Appropriately, she can only force the armor to cover a little more the half of her body. It is no matter – she doesn’t want to wear it for the trek, anyway. The air is getting thinner, and Lagertha has a feeling she will need more and more energy, the higher she climbs.
The armor is worth it.
For now – a pause to catch her breath. It wasn’t too long ago that she was running from Monsters in the Upside Down, half-starved from stress and exhaustion, and lack of food. Wouldn’t want to overdo it on the eve of regaining her powers.
[I steal all your ponies.]
RE: discord and all [any/open] - Harmonia - 10-11-2016
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For a moment the sensation of loss, of hatred, of bitterness leaves her body and lets her to float happily atop the Mountain, levitating just inches from the ground, glad to not have to walk. Walking was a rather silly task for her these days - why do it? Why ever do it? When you can fly with such painless ease? It made her transition back to the magicless <i>thing</i> from before that much more challenging. Her muscles were not used to the exertion from walking. Her mind was sharp and strong but her body? Weak. Tired. Painful.
She is in her moment of rapture when she hears another cry out, and she zooms toward her, levitating as if on a magic carpet. Her ears flick toward the mare as chain mail crawls along her legs and up her body. Harmonia lowers herself to the ground and copies the mare, though her armor is a thick snake skin, scaled and hard, the same palomino color as Harmonia.
Despite her last few - mandatory - years as a magicless creature she forget all of this. She is returned to her faux-simpleton exterior, with wide bubble eyes and childish impishness. She smiles a vacant smile and, with a flourish of her magic, she turns the others mares' chainmail into the color of bright, sparkling purple. She laughs at this, merry in the moment. </p></div><div class="harmonia_fade"><span class='letter'>H</span><span class='letter'>A</span><span class='letter'>R</span><span class='letter'>M</span><span class='letter'>O</span><span class='letter'>N</span><span class='letter'>IA</span></div><div class="harmonia_quote">the pied piper</div></div></center>