06-22-2017, 02:37 PM
you give me something to think about that's not the shit in my head.
They are fighting for their lives. The tentacled monster slaps it’s slimy arms at him. He dips and dodges but he is no match for such a beast. The dragon has taken to the air and she takes most of the brunt but there are so many arms, so many suckers trying to grab at them and pull them back down to hell. He bucks and avoids but there’s only so long he can keep this up.
Surely being dead meant he could go on forever. Yet there’s still a sense of fatigue, a tiredness he hasn’t experienced in centuries. Rays of light stream through the tear in time, calling to them to come through. They both take off, his legs protesting beneath him as he gallops towards the exit. A sudden crash as a long slippery appendage throws itself in front of him, blocking the way. He skids, sending up black dirt into the sucking circles that threaten to steal his very soul. Looking for another way but he has become trapped, closed in at all sides. Until her teeth grab around his barrel and with a roar of pain he is thrown towards the light. Hot whispers of white tether on to him in the air, pulling him towards his freedom and anchoring him so he can’t be pulled back down towards the darkness. Now he sees who pulls the strings behind the magic that holds him. It's fucking Ashley. Despite the chaos of his situation, he is nearly howling with laughter because you have got to be kidding me, of all the magicians. The only thing worse could be Deimos. It's the last thought he has before the light explodes around him.
It blinds him, he can’t see, can’t think, can’t feel. Whiteness surrounds him. And then there is only darkness, nothing as he falls into unconsciousness.
Beneath gray strains of sands, bleached bones begin to turn to ash. The skeleton of a horse whose carcass had long decayed and been forgotten. The bones deteriorate quickly until they cease to exist. They cannot be here any longer if they are to return to their former owner.
The sound of gulls and the gentle caress of the tide slowly wakes him. His body aches, pinpricks of dragon teeth stinging with the touch of saltwater. Groaning slightly, he rolls off his side as water crashes against his belly. Shaking his head, trying to rid himself of the ringing in his ears. Nostrils flare as he inhales the fresh briny air, it fills his lungs and he can’t help but grin. He still looks exactly the same. Same scar that trails over his left eye, scars that run white hot over his dark coat from many battles past. Battles he no longer recalls. He is younger, fitter, the way he looked in his youth. No point in being reborn to only just die off again.
A voice calls out to him and he sees a roan mare pulling herself from the ocean. He forces himself to his hooves, unsteady and unsure in the soft delicate sand. A red eye looks her over as he grins lightly at her. ”You look rather different.”
He remembers the dragon. Being locked up in darkness and being far away somewhere for so long. He remembers a creature trying to prevent their escape, a stallion screaming at them to be free. Then nothing but light. And that’s where it ends. For when they escaped, they had to pay a price. Everything cost something. For Nocturnal it was her powers. But Cross had no powers to give. So they took his memories instead. The gods weren’t entirely unkind. They let him remember his escape that would fade with time till it was nothing more than a forgotten dream. They let him keep his knowledge of Nocturnal. They let him keep his name. How interesting that will be, they think.
”Where are we?” He asks as he stands by her side, the ocean rushing around their hooves. Red eyes looking about him with interest, unaware of the stories this place alone told about him. Oblivious to what he had returned to, a cruel joke. Fitting for someone who had just escaped from hell. There’s movement further down the coast and he turns his head to see another body flailing in the sand. Trying to stand. His muzzle gently bumps against the curve of Nocturnal’s cheek to draw her attention to him. The old man (he seems so frail) that’s coughing and sputtering, looking at him with brazen recognition. Cross grows quiet, becoming wary for he has never seen that stallion before in his life.
Surely being dead meant he could go on forever. Yet there’s still a sense of fatigue, a tiredness he hasn’t experienced in centuries. Rays of light stream through the tear in time, calling to them to come through. They both take off, his legs protesting beneath him as he gallops towards the exit. A sudden crash as a long slippery appendage throws itself in front of him, blocking the way. He skids, sending up black dirt into the sucking circles that threaten to steal his very soul. Looking for another way but he has become trapped, closed in at all sides. Until her teeth grab around his barrel and with a roar of pain he is thrown towards the light. Hot whispers of white tether on to him in the air, pulling him towards his freedom and anchoring him so he can’t be pulled back down towards the darkness. Now he sees who pulls the strings behind the magic that holds him. It's fucking Ashley. Despite the chaos of his situation, he is nearly howling with laughter because you have got to be kidding me, of all the magicians. The only thing worse could be Deimos. It's the last thought he has before the light explodes around him.
It blinds him, he can’t see, can’t think, can’t feel. Whiteness surrounds him. And then there is only darkness, nothing as he falls into unconsciousness.
Beneath gray strains of sands, bleached bones begin to turn to ash. The skeleton of a horse whose carcass had long decayed and been forgotten. The bones deteriorate quickly until they cease to exist. They cannot be here any longer if they are to return to their former owner.
The sound of gulls and the gentle caress of the tide slowly wakes him. His body aches, pinpricks of dragon teeth stinging with the touch of saltwater. Groaning slightly, he rolls off his side as water crashes against his belly. Shaking his head, trying to rid himself of the ringing in his ears. Nostrils flare as he inhales the fresh briny air, it fills his lungs and he can’t help but grin. He still looks exactly the same. Same scar that trails over his left eye, scars that run white hot over his dark coat from many battles past. Battles he no longer recalls. He is younger, fitter, the way he looked in his youth. No point in being reborn to only just die off again.
A voice calls out to him and he sees a roan mare pulling herself from the ocean. He forces himself to his hooves, unsteady and unsure in the soft delicate sand. A red eye looks her over as he grins lightly at her. ”You look rather different.”
He remembers the dragon. Being locked up in darkness and being far away somewhere for so long. He remembers a creature trying to prevent their escape, a stallion screaming at them to be free. Then nothing but light. And that’s where it ends. For when they escaped, they had to pay a price. Everything cost something. For Nocturnal it was her powers. But Cross had no powers to give. So they took his memories instead. The gods weren’t entirely unkind. They let him remember his escape that would fade with time till it was nothing more than a forgotten dream. They let him keep his knowledge of Nocturnal. They let him keep his name. How interesting that will be, they think.
”Where are we?” He asks as he stands by her side, the ocean rushing around their hooves. Red eyes looking about him with interest, unaware of the stories this place alone told about him. Oblivious to what he had returned to, a cruel joke. Fitting for someone who had just escaped from hell. There’s movement further down the coast and he turns his head to see another body flailing in the sand. Trying to stand. His muzzle gently bumps against the curve of Nocturnal’s cheek to draw her attention to him. The old man (he seems so frail) that’s coughing and sputtering, looking at him with brazen recognition. Cross grows quiet, becoming wary for he has never seen that stallion before in his life.
no crosses count
the reborn