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    COTY

    Assailant -- Year 226

    QOTY

    "But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura


    i'm still waiting for the world to end; tarnished
    #1
    fiasko
    She needs a little break.

    She loves her family - adores Jason and their little twins. But the children are running her ragged (or, at least Sidra is, the little monkey), and today, she is claiming a day for herself. Jason is off on some business or other, the twins are busy playing with Wichita’s daughter Tioga and so she has come here, to the meadow, for some time to herself.

    She’s not exactly sure why she chose here. The last time she’d been in the meadow it’d been … less than pleasant. She’d met that stallion then. The one that’d tried to kill her. Granted, she’d met Kaelie then too and been rescued.

    Perhaps that’s why she’s here. She wants to see the place where she first gained her family. And she wants to make new memories of the place.

    She settles in to a far corner of the meadow, huddling for shelter underneath the boughs of an old, spreading oak tree. It’s cold, but it’s quiet. She has space to think. Or, almost better, space to not think at all.

    She stares out across the meadow, drinking in the quiet and the beautiful scenery. A thick layer of snow lies across the territory, dotted with the occasional trail of hoofprints. At the moment no one is in sight, but she’s sure that someone will be along soon. From what she understands, the meadow is never empty for long.
    i'm still waiting for the world to end


    @[Tarnished]
    Reply
    #2
    There is blood on the snow, blood on the trees—he grabs a bit of hide and quickly rips it back with his teeth. He revels in the taste, trembles a little when the blood gushes out and hits his tongue; it’s been so long since he’s fed, since he’s actually gotten to enjoy the thrill of the hunt that he had almost forgotten what it was like. But there’s plenty of time for that now. He plunges his muzzle in between the buck’s ribs, wedges it there until the bones finally crack and split apart. Nearby, a little crow caws and watches him with hungry eyes—the damn thing has been following him for a few days now, pestering him for food as if he were its’ mother. Tarnished is eagerly dragging the buck’s innards out when he notices the bird. Rolling his golden eyes, he mumbles through a full mouth: “Oh, don’t give me that look.”

    The crow cocks its head suspiciously.

    “It’s not like I can eat all of it by myself.”

    Definitely not needing to be told twice, the crow flies down from its perch to share the bounty.

    A part of him wants to eat the crow, too. Teach it a lesson for trusting him. But he’s never been so cruel, never so heartless; never so much like Mother that he couldn’t come back from it. Speaking of Mother, it’s been so long since he has returned to the body She made him that he isn’t entirely sure he remembers how—so he tries, and he tries, sifting through shape after shape until he finds the one he’s looking for; tall, dark, and covered in scars. Everything from his ears down to his hooves feels strange, he has to run his tongue across his fangs just to make sure they’re still there. They feel odd in this mouth.

    This mouth should have blunt teeth, but he’s never had blunt teeth.
    He’s never so much as eaten a blade of grass.

    The crow looks on, stunned but intrigued.

    Tarnished smiles, then goes about finishing his meal.

    --

    It’s some hours later that he finally leaves the dead buck behind, his new crow-friend perched safely on his back. Some look at him funny—others avoid him, smelling the blood. Tarnished pays no mind to this, in fact, he ambles along as though nothing is wrong and hums his Jungle-mother’s songs under his breath; she’s been on his mind a lot as of late, it’s been so long since he’s seen her. It’s been so long since he’s seen any of them, actually. He should go looking for them, but he doesn’t want to leave the Meadow.

    He doesn’t want Dominion to come back and he not be here.
    She’d always been here when he came home.

    Somewhere down the line, Tarnished loses the crowd and heads towards a corner of The Meadow known to be less noisy. Less occupied. He can breathe here, he can think—there are no eyes burning holes through him. Again, not that he pays them any mind, but he still appreciates not having to carry their weight. The stallion carries on through the snow, still humming, when something catches his eye; it’s the slightest of movement beneath a tree, maybe just the heave of a breath, but it’s there and he quickly whips his head around in her direction. He wishes he didn’t.

    The memories come flooding right back, he feels weak—he feels sick.

    “You,” Tarnished says, his golden eyes narrowing ever so slightly. “She wanted to come find you.” Wanted to, he says. As if she were dead. As if she were anything but alive and healthy. He’s played with her children, watched them and kept them safe as if they were his own— as if she didn’t betray him. But that matters not. His Else is dead as far as he is concerned.
    Vanquish x Nocturnal
    equus mutatio, immortality, disease manipulation, trait immunity
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    #3
    She ruminates as she waits, mind quietly sifting through the years she's lived. It's strange to think about, strange to think about how far she's come since the day Kaelie found her here. She'd been so weak then, so afraid. A tiny, broken filly, barely clinging on to life.

    If anyone had told her then what path her life would take, she wouldn't have believed them. She wouldn't have even understood.

    The strong scent of blood hits her nostrils and she gags, falling against the tree. In her distraction, she had failed to notice the stallion when he had appeared in front of her. She straightens herself as the golden eyes fix on her face and winces at the odd intensity in them. She shrinks from that gaze, cringing, nervous. She's used to expressions of shock and fear at the sight of her face, but this is something different. Something more unnerving.

    And the smell ... death clings to the stallion like an embrace, clogging the air with its thick, putrid scent. She wants to run, but something tells her she wouldn't get far if she tried. And, deep inside, packed away under the weight of all the years, a memory whispers. She knows him ... somehow.

    He speaks then, and she only becomes more confused and afraid. "She? What?" Her orange flecked eye peers cautiously into the gold. It's the eyes, she realizes abruptly. She's seen them somewhere before. But where? "Who are you?!" The heartbeat at her side quickens.
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    #4
    I lookup from my grazing when I smell the blood. Then I see the source. It was as if death had incarnated itself in a horse and possessed him. He reaked of it. Then the dam shied from the steed. I knew something wasn't right. I went over closer, making it look like I wasn't headed there way. It obviously worked. They didn't notice I was there until I was next to her."Who are you?!" the mare and I scream.
    ~Horses
    ~Are
    ~Miracles
    ~Staying
    ~True
    ~Every
    ~Risk
    Reply
    #5

    We were young and wild and free,

    fightin' in a love we couldn't leave.

    Tarnished looks to the bird, though his ears twitch and the one nearest Fiasko twists as much as it can in her direction. The bird looks back at him, curious, eerily innocent for a crow, then takes that as its cue to leave and heads towards the nearest tree; it’ll be back, of course. But not until he shows her. Not until she remembers. The shape-shifter turns his head back towards the Queen of the Gates, almost makes a move towards her—almost, but movement from the corner of his eye catches his attention and he pauses.

    There’s a boy coming closer; subtly, of course, but not subtle enough. He comes to stand beside the mare, then screams—repeating the mare’s question. “Hm?” Tarnished blinks, cocking his head. “Come again? I didn’t quite hear you, maybe you should speak up.” A big grin, complete with shiny white fangs, spreads across the dark stallion’s mouth; he doesn’t mean to frighten them, really, but there’s a small part of him that cannot help enjoying it. Rather than move closer to them, he moves back—his body rapidly changing; it’s quite fluid, he’s gotten rather used to the whole process over the years and it almost doesn’t hurt at all anymore.

    Almost.

    He would probably never be quite as good nor make it look half as effortless as his ancestors did.

    Giant paws replace his hooves, his snout becomes long and narrow—like an oversized wolf’s—and thick, charred black scales replace his hair. Large spikes grow out of his neck and travel down the length of his spine, until they meet much smaller spikes that make up the entire length of his forked tail; he towers over the two of them, a great beast with golden eyes and fire smoldering under his skin. Some would call him a hellhound, others would know better—know that the hounds of hell didn’t reveal themselves. Not so freely, not unless they were the consequences of someone’s actions.

    Fiasko would know, should know him now.

    He’d saved her once, after all.

    Tarnished sits, then sighs through his nose—black smoke curling out of his nostrils, he makes no further move and waits instead for their reactions.

    tarnished

    vanquish x nocturnal

    Even on the way down, even on the way down.



    [I can't remember how Tarnished looked as a hellhound so pretend this is accurate, Tins. :| Also this post is bad and I should feel bad.]
    Vanquish x Nocturnal
    equus mutatio, immortality, disease manipulation, trait immunity
    Reply
    #6
    I start to shy. Then I stop. Something doesn't see m entirely evil. "Chezter, crown alpha of paradise beach and resident of the falls, at your service." I gulp. I perpetrate due to the unusual heat from his body. I decided my life would be worth less than the mares. I lean into her ear. "I'll save you, if you wish." I whisper to her.
    ~Horses
    ~Are
    ~Miracles
    ~Staying
    ~True
    ~Every
    ~Risk
    Reply
    #7
    She barely notices the other stallion approaching and doesn't even glance at him when he screams her question out at the blood covered stranger. Her single eye peers at him desperately and she fights with the fog of time to remember where on earth she's seen those eyes before. There's something about them that just makes her feel ... safe.

    The bloody stallion responds to the boy, grinning with a mouth full of dazzling white fangs. She's terrified and yet still can't move away.

    And then his body begins to change.

    She watches, transfixed, as the stallion's snout lengthens, his coat hardens (dark scales that are so charred they look hot to the touch) and spikes begin to grow out of the entire length of his spine. She is frozen, staring, until the transformation is complete.

    She knows this form.

    She knows him.

    "You." She takes a trembling, half step forward, eye fastened on the monstrous face. "It was you." She's instantly transported back to a time when a weakened, malnourished filly had dragged herself into this meadow. Then that filly had been attacked by a stallion that had not thought her worthy of life. And she'd been saved. By a pair of mares and ... a monster. This monster.

    "You're the one that saved me."

    The other stallion has approached her now, speaking words that she barely hears. He doesn't understand what's happening here. "No, no." She mumbles at him, orange-flecked eye never leaving the beast's face. "I don't need saving, not from him. He saved me."

    She takes another step forward, more confident this time. "Where have you been?" It's been a long, long time. Years. She is a far cry from the child she'd been on that fateful day. And possibly, so is he.
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