it was a blood-soaked feast that never ceased; any - Printable Version +- Beqanna (https://beqanna.com/forum) +-- Forum: OOC (https://beqanna.com/forum/forumdisplay.php?fid=24) +--- Forum: Archive (https://beqanna.com/forum/forumdisplay.php?fid=81) +---- Forum: Lands (https://beqanna.com/forum/forumdisplay.php?fid=98) +----- Forum: Nerine (https://beqanna.com/forum/forumdisplay.php?fid=91) +----- Thread: it was a blood-soaked feast that never ceased; any (/showthread.php?tid=17421) |
it was a blood-soaked feast that never ceased; any - Maugrim - 12-03-2017 god make me pay like the devil i am He had lingered here. At first, it was to find the one whom he had given to the raging sea, losing him beneath the tumultuous grey waves of Nerine before he could finish the job properly. It left him feeling on edge and angry, causing tremendous riptides and currents beneath the surface, hoping that he would find a salt and sea bloated corpse or even him alive, so that he can feel the satisfaction and move on. But there was nothing. So he remains, liquified and transparent beneath Nerine’s weary waters, floating ominously near the black outcroppings of unforgiving rocks and corals, or down into the depths where the water is colder and darker and silent - his tomb and his home. He had not killed in days, and the feeling leaves him restless, but he cannot move on from Nerine - he has found it to his liking, and though his craving of blood and death wishes him elsewhere, his equine instincts for a home keeps him there as the ocean’s ghost, bound to the brooding waters. It is not loneliness that drives the beast from the depths, nor is it hunger (kelp and seaweed keeps him satiated, while hunting keeps him occupied). It is curiosity and boredom; it is the hope of finding an unsuspecting participant deeper within the land, and perhaps, changing his skillset from a predator that only attacks from beneath the cloak of frothing, angry water. The stallion materializes as he broaches the surface, his crown breaking through the churning grey waters and then his head and neck, and as he moves forward towards the shore, then his shoulders and haunches. He is, at first, transparent and warbling, completely made of Nerine’s seawater. But he allows himself to become solid, the brilliant two-toned pattern of dark algae green and the iridescent color of pearl starkly contrasting against the briny, black water. His pearlescent and seaweed colored mane and forelock are pressed tightly against his muscular neck and the emptiness of his face, near-black eyes taking in the tall cliffs that rise above him. He continues to move towards the bleary shoreline and away from the comfort of his ocean, ascending from its depths like a monster rising from the pit. Sea water spills off of the ripples of muscle of his chest and haunches, running in rivulets down his legs. From where he stands the water spits unnaturally and angrily, obviously caused by him. Maugrim comes to a stand still where the water reaches his knees, scanning the empty shore with a mild curiosity. m a u g r i m. RE: it was a blood-soaked feast that never ceased; any - Vessel - 12-03-2017 » Innocence is always unsuspicious « Vessel Kimber x Nymphetamine Ooc: first post back in a long time I'm rusty. Also typed this on my iPad. Sooooo sorry if I didn't catch some crazy auto fill/ correct. RE: it was a blood-soaked feast that never ceased; any - Maugrim - 12-03-2017 god make me pay like the devil i am In its first moments, he regrets ascending to the world above him; the sun is blinding here, and hot and unforgiving against his water-soaked skin. He can feel the blistering of sunlight against his flesh, the heat of summer mercilessly beating down upon his salt-strewn pelt. But quickly (entirely more quick than he ever thought possible, here above sea-level) he is approached. In another time and another place, the two-toned stallion would shy away from any kind of interaction with another - but now, in his maturity and the feeling of necessity pulling at his guts (the necessity of killing, of death, of power), he allows this newcomer to come near him. He does not dissipate into the waters beneath him, even though they coo encouragingly beneath him and his skilled mind. He remains a solid form, for all intents and purposes a normal, quiet presence along the gloomy shores of Nerine. The tension is palpable, mostly coming from the salt-stained stallion that stares at her beneath a hooded brow, his lips curled into a snarl that he cannot help that plasters onto his pearlescent lips - but he tries, oh he tries to pretend that he would enjoy her company. Move closer, he doesn’t say, just a little further…. and he could wrap her up within the grey waters of Nerine and show her his airless tomb that rests at the bottom of the sea. Instead he simply stares at her, his mane and tail soaked with saltwater and kelp, while the iridescence of his lavender skin shines brilliantly within the summer’s sun. “Fancied yourself a swim?” An enveloping silence grows between them and with a rattling growl, he manages: “Always.” Because of course he did, how did she not know that the waters are the most natural thing for him to submerge himself beneath? How can she not fathom its enticing pull, even now she calls to him, surging around knees wantonly, his lover pulling him back to sea. But the red girl on the shore keeps him steady, keeps him interested. She is beautiful and lovely, a pillar of excellence in comparison to the skeletons that he had brought to haunt the deep and he almost relishes her gentleness, a sweet taste on his otherwise salt-soaked tongue. Cracked and dried lips manage a smile - perhaps it was charming, perhaps he was handsome, he wouldn’t know - and he wonders what would make her shy away from him, and for a moment he wonders what would happen if he could get her out just a few feet deeper into the water, just where he could swallow her whole beneath the terrible riptide that he could create. “Do you - swim?” His voice is garbled and bubbling, like water is coursing through his lungs and throat (which it was); would he terrify her, or would he elicit a curiosity that would bring her closer to him? He licks his lips, craving the taste of her sweet red skin on his tongue, but not here - down beneath the depths from which he came. m a u g r i m. @[Vessel] RE: it was a blood-soaked feast that never ceased; any - Isobell - 12-03-2017 Isobell i'll wait for inside the bottom of the deep blue sea The painted mare walks the edges of Nerine on most days despite searing sun of cool rain. The pacing soothed the furrow of her scaled brow as she was able to pick apart issues and find the solicitations in the depths of the craggy land, tracing the land like a blind hand down a hallway. She enjoy the particular feel of the summer day as it coated her scales in a warm embrace.Isobell, coated in moonstone white and glassy obsidian scales, does not fear why lay around the dark corners of her mind's eye. She walks with a tall head and smoldering silver eyes with only the sound of the salt water bashed against the cliffs to be her cadence. She lets her eyes close as one hoof falls in front of the other but soon the sound of a voice -no two, casues ehr eyes to slide open. A hint of annoyance touches her features as she seemed to have encroached upon a private meeting. The mare does not slow her pace till she finds herself joining the group, a brow lifted, a twitch of her dark lips lifting upward curiously. "Hello, hello." Her voice is cool and smooth as the well polished sea glass at their hooves. Had she disrupted a meeting? A private rendezvous? Judging by their expressions, the woman thinks that perhaps she stumbled upon them not soon after they had found each other. Their faces are unfamiliar but perhaps they had been in Nerine before during her mother's reign...she doesn't recall but with all the recent changes Isobell believes they will understand. "I'm not interrupting, am I?" Of course she was not interrupting. She was the leader of Nerine but still the young mare prods with a curious tilt of her head and shining pewter eyes. RE: it was a blood-soaked feast that never ceased; any - Vessel - 12-09-2017 » Innocence is always unsuspicious « Vessel Kimber x Nymphetamine RE: it was a blood-soaked feast that never ceased; any - Maugrim - 12-10-2017 god make me pay like the devil i am Her face shows no fear, but the way her eyes look at him curiously, he knows there is a sense that something is a little off, something isn’t right. That is enough for him, and must have been enough for her because she remains, the blood bay going so far as to begin to answer his question - which the answer he is most delighted to hear. His dear friend, however, is unable to finish. A slight grimace covers the pearlescence of his face, his jaw clenching tightly as she becomes distracted by the other that now strides up to join them. No matter. Perhaps he could show them both the watery sanctum where he dwells. The other that arrives is younger, black and white and scaled. The darkness of his eyes unabashedly rove over her body, the glittering scales causing him to tilt his head curiously, droplets of seawater spilling off him with the movement. It reminds him of the fish that he is so familiar with, and the stallion licks the salt-dried of his lips with his tongue, now desperate to taste her flesh as well - could he even pierce it? His first companion surprises him as she moves to stand beside him - unaware she is so dangerously close to such a predator. The smell of her nearness sends his lips twitching, dark eyes flickering to her. Maybe he only needs the one, she is close enough now that he could easily let the water rise up beneath her, and the water beneath him begins to swirl ever so slightly, his heart thrumming wildly in his chest. But, once again, he is surprised by her once more. She begins to introduce herself and the story between himself and her, and though no expression finds his face, a single brow crooks. What? Quickly, however, when it is announced that he is called Seaweed, a hint of a smile finds itself on his cracked lips. The fake name is extremely appropriate, and his dark eyes flicker to the black and white scaled mare, lips pressing together thoughtfully. Is this how all kingdom horses are? Despite the curiousness of it all, the stallion is not here for petty name games and silliness; his mission here is much more sinister. But, his watery tomb beneath Nerine calls for more, so he decides to stay with the women a few moments longer, to see where this could lead. “Yes,” his voice garbles, saltwater bubbling in his throat. “Just an awkward reunion,” Maugrim’s eyes flash to Boat. He does not give her a smile, but simply stares at her. m a u g r i m. @[Vessel] @[Isobell] He doesn't do well in social interactions, sorry. D: RE: it was a blood-soaked feast that never ceased; any - Isobell - 12-16-2017 Isobell i'll wait for inside the bottom of the deep blue sea The woman had simply come upon them for it was natural in the kingdom by the sea. Isobell had been birthed then raised in these lands. She knew it's quarters and secrets. She knew the lands like a well versed lover in the dark..but these two were all together new.A silver eye simply looks over the mare as she makes a rather sharp remark. Her voice seemed aggravated and already irritating to Isobell. The kelpie mare lifts a brow as a bemused smile floats over her lips. "Boat, you say? I can see why." Isobell allows her gaze to linger before she removes it and looks to the stallion with his unusual green and dripping coat. He seemed...hungry. "And Seaweed...sure." Isobell knows these are all false just by the blatant petty smug on the mare's features. Why did dear Boat have to lash outward so quickly? Why couldn't this have been a pleasantries of 'hellos' and Isobell would have moved right along? You attract more flies with honey than vinegar...but when you are older (and unassumingly wiser) you typically tend to have proper introduction before spitting such acid. "Well, Boat dear, I get the impression that I am...and if you do not like it then you are welcome to leave Nerine as soon as possible." Her reply is evenly sweet, a mimic to the bay woman as Isobell punctuates her offer with a smile. "I'm Isobell, do you plan to stay long much longer or are you looking to take up residency? I do like to meet and know who resides in my humble peninsula." Isobell believes the mare could have potential in the guard with a tempter like that and a mouthful of sass but just as equally, Isobell wouldn't mind her packing up shop and getting the fuck out of her kingdom with green man in tow. After all, there are plenty other little nooks and crannies to fool around with with strange boys in. The scaled mare rests her weight back now with ears forward, waiting for a reply what ever it may be. The two are welcome to stay if they should chose. Isobell would even offer a kind greeting and introductions to her other residents but as of right now, the mare had all the time in the world to see where this rather salty conversation could go. RE: it was a blood-soaked feast that never ceased; any - Vessel - 12-21-2017 » Innocence is always unsuspicious « Vessel Kimber x Nymphetamine RE: it was a blood-soaked feast that never ceased; any - Maugrim - 12-21-2017 god make me pay like the devil i am He is hungry. The emptiness of his black eyes show it, and perhaps the scaled mare recognizes it because she craves it as well - though she may be better at hiding it, whereas Maugrim wears it on his face, unabashed and unmasked as he feels his insides crawling. He needed satiation, and quickly - the conversation had quickly gotten boring with Isobell’s arrival (he is sure she is interesting, but his predatorial mind is fastened on the first one who had approached him, and wants nothing more than to be alone with his prey) and the drollness of their idle banter only increases the need for overpowering them. His lips twitch impatiently as Isobell - the queen, he finds out - surveys them with a keen and curious glimmer of her silvered eyes. He keeps his composure, a solid and frozen mass of muscle beside Vessel and before Isobell, their voices dimming as the sound of the sea fills his ears, and the encouraging whispers of his insatiable appetite call hauntingly to him. They announce their names and he remains silent, his body still dripping with seawater as it collects in the shallows below them. It is a risk, sure, especially with the Queen of Nerine facing him (he knows nothing of the possible abilities she may possess, besides the very peculiar scales that glitter lustrously on her hide) but the ocean seeks him out and he does not wish to return empty-handedly to its depths. Vessel turns to look at him expectantly, encouraging him to say or do something. Her idle whisper, her warm and unfamiliar breath on his skin, flips a switch inside the evergreen and pearlescent stallion - he can feel the click, the natural way his mind takes its course and no longer hesitates, no longer tries to conform to the social constructs that are built around him on the land. He will be leaving with what he had been searching for, and unfortunately for Vessel, she will be coming with him. The tide that he wades in quickly rises, much like a flash flood or the way the ocean swells forward before it is ripped back out to sea by a tsunami - but it is all his doing. The grey waters rise so quickly and so suddenly - it is up to their shoulders now, even the Queen’s - and though he does not wish to take her with him (not yet), she is not his target. Maugrim melts into the tide, liquefying himself so that he seamlessly vanishes into the ocean. But, of course, he is anything but absent. The riptide he creates pulls at one creature and one creature only - Vessel. It is strong and unnatural, and as it pulls her out to sea the shoreline descends back to its normal level. Maugrim continues to coax and control the supernatural current he creates, allowing her head to breach the surface for quick breath before pulling her back below the dark and frothing waters, a ghostly phantom just below her writhing figure. The swim to Ischia is long - and for Vessel, it will feel like an eternity. m a u g r i m. @[Vessel] @[Isobell] |