Like a Thorn to the Holy Ones [any]

[Nymphetamine]

Like a thorn to the holy ones       Nymphetamine looked around as he took in this new place. He had wandered for quite some time until he had found his way here.  As he walked through the space that surrounded him he thought back to the fires that swept through the home of his parents. And how his parents made sure he got out before the fires engulfed them too. The blood bay stallion shook his head, aware that dwelling never helped anyone become anything. His dark eyes clear and focused scanned the area before him ready to start anew.   Nymphetamine walked forward from the shadows that concealed him into a field of sorts. His nostrils flared as the scents of many different equines hit him. there were common tones of those belonging to the same herd, or maybe living in similar places. He took a few deep breaths before stalking further out. He wasn't a overly mean fellow but he was definitely not bright and bubbly. There was a need to be aware, he was a new stallion in this area, even if he meant no threat---for now. The sun reflected off him--like it did his father, making him appear covered in blood. He was not, of course, but it usually kept those bubbly light folks away, being too scared or nervous to approach one who looks like blood. he held his head high alert, proud and demanding of respect. He may be young and in no rush to have a harem of his own, he knew his worth and his place and would not cower. As his father told him respect is met with respect, even as he dealt with hasty stallions too eager to lead. Nymphetamine waited there in this field, surrounded by crisp air, and many equines. He didn't shout out his presence, or cause a big flashy scene. Nay, he stood there ready for anything, looking out over the field like it was his to do so. The right type would find him, so let it be. ooc: oi, I am rusty, hang with me, I'll get better.        The Puppet Master: Nymphetamine They see him: Blood Bay Ghosts within: Alkah-teke x Arabian They Run From Him at: 16.2 He’s made it this far: 2 years   Remember him by: He will always be a bit of a wander, and if he does settle down to one place or with one fae it will be later in life. He is sly and outgoing, and cares very much about family and keeping his word. He doesn't remember much of his family, but knows the fact he made it here to,well he isn't quite sure where here is, because of the sacrifice his parents made. Nymphetamine is the some of a pirate, if you will. The kind of horse that wanders into luck and fortune and seems to know the minute mischief is in the air. His father wasn't one to settle down either- until he met his mother. A fierce tongued fae with a dark heart, she understood and maybe even loved his father's distant, detached ways. Nymphetamine was very much a mix of his parents, fierce tongued and independent with a lucky streak to pull him through during rough times--or maybe stir things up.         Cold was my soul Untold was the pain I faced when you left me A rose in the rain.... So I swore to the razor That never, enchained Would your dark nails of faith Be pushed through my veins again   Bared on your tomb I'm a prayer for your loneliness And would you ever soon Come above onto me? For once upon a time On the binds of your lowliness I could always find the slot for your sacred key   Six feet deep is the incision In my heart, that barless prison Discoulours all with tunnel vision   Sunsetter... Nymphetamine   HTML Copyright To Tay.

[magnus]

Magnus was, as per usual, in the Field when the morning arrived. He was standing near the border, eyes half closed as the spring sun washed over the gold of his coat, when he saw the stallion enter. It was enough for him to stir from the rest, black-tipped ears swiveling forward in interest as he watched him move through the field to come to a stopping point. Stallions were not entirely rare here, but they were certainly not the norm—and if the Gates could use anything right now, it was those strong enough to fight. More than that though, they needed those who were willing to fight for what was right.

The buckskin stallion rolled his scarred shoulders, shaking out his handsome head, before beginning to make his way to the blood bay. It was hard to gauge what the other was like from just appearances, but he knew that most stallions were not eager to join a kingdom known as Heaven’s Gates. Lord knows that he himself had not jumped at the chance at first, but over time, he had come to love the peaceful land. He loved what it stood for—and even if he did not necessarily fit in, and never would be their white knight, he had learned to make it home. He could only hope the other would feel the same.

“Hello there,” he greeted as he came to a stop several feet away, his voice husky. “My name is Magnus.” The buckskin tilted his head to the side, watching him quietly, the scar on his left cheek prominent. “What brings you to the field today?” Normally, Magnus did not like to cut to the chase so quickly, rather enjoying the process of getting to know them and helping them find a home, but something told him that this stallion would appreciate a more blunt approach. He didn’t strike him as the type to beat around the bush.

[Nymphetamine]

Like a thorn to the holy ones     A sharp spring breeze drifted a new scent towards his dark maw. The need shift his stance tingled through him, but he held still. The field was filled with mares, and a hot stallion or two showing off. He knew his ways probably were not all that normal- but what did he know, he was new here. The air held little tension and so he found himself here allowing fate, or whatever, to find him. The scent continued to grow, not feminine but masculine, the conversation to come could be quite entertaining. Well well well, what beast have I attracted? It is a lowly stallion threatened by little 'ol me?  A moment later a sandy fellow came forth from the tree line. Nymphetamine snapped his attention to the stag who approached. He gathered no aggression, no disdain in his demeanor, but did see the scars. Scars such as his, didn't come lightly, best to play safe. The last thing Nymphetamine wanted was a spat in the middle of the ladies-- oh the impression that would make, ha!  So to be safe, he held his ground firmly, but calmly never to be too trusting. He looked out through dark pools ears twitching forward as the stag spoke. A spark of smugness flittered throughout his eyes.   He wastes no time, now does he. What is the fuss all about? The blood stallion took a breath weighing his options. In a new home, were he had no allies, he could be too snobbish, judgmental. The quick tongue of his mother flared often, and he had to keep it in check, especially now. As he exhaled deep tones rang from him. Nymphetamine. I'm.....new. This area seemed as good a place as any to start gathering my wits about me. What about you, sir. A bit of laughter floated behind his eyes, he would toy with this one a bit. "Sir." He was not disrespectful, but he would toe the line, show he was not afraid to hold his own with someone his senior. He would not be happy in a place he couldn't speak his mind, he had to set himself up for that- a home, the right home. Nymphetamine watched for the reaction of the older sandy stag before him. Would he take the jest well or would he get agitated? The thrum of his heart quickened-- he loved a game of wits. The hope that the game would twist and turn before both parties accepted the other as a worthy opponent was half the fun.  Lets play old man Nymphetamine had no idea if he truly was old, He didn't seem to bear the usual marking of age, but in jest, he thought of him as such, to drive the mental game. Dark muzzle reached forward slowly, slightly Magnus's direction and he sniffed him,partially in jest, and partially to gather more from the small words he shared. He smelled a faint sweet scent, but it could be that of mares around them. He simply didn't know this place well enough to discern much from scent alone.  What are you about old man?       The Puppet Master: Nymphetamine They see him: Blood Bay Ghosts within: Alkah-teke x Arabian They Run From Him at: 16.2 He’s made it this far: 2 years   Remember him by: He will always be a bit of a wander, and if he does settle down to one place or with one fae it will be later in life. He is sly and outgoing, and cares very much about family and keeping his word. He doesn't remember much of his family, but knows the fact he made it here to,well he isn't quite sure where here is, because of the sacrifice his parents made. Nymphetamine is the some of a pirate, if you will. The kind of horse that wanders into luck and fortune and seems to know the minute mischief is in the air. His father wasn't one to settle down either- until he met his mother. A fierce tongued fae with a dark heart, she understood and maybe even loved his father's distant, detached ways. Nymphetamine was very much a mix of his parents, fierce tongued and independent with a lucky streak to pull him through during rough times--or maybe stir things up.         Cold was my soul Untold was the pain I faced when you left me A rose in the rain.... So I swore to the razor That never, enchained Would your dark nails of faith Be pushed through my veins again   Bared on your tomb I'm a prayer for your loneliness And would you ever soon Come above onto me? For once upon a time On the binds of your lowliness I could always find the slot for your sacred key   Six feet deep is the incision In my heart, that barless prison Discoulours all with tunnel vision   Sunsetter... Nymphetamine   HTML Copyright To Tay.

[magnus]

Old. He certainly was that, although the succession of his years was not exactly what you would call normal. Born to the Amazon Queen and raised amongst the female warriors in the jungle. Rising to Lord in the Chamber where his father served as King. Leaving to become General of the Gates and then its King. Abdicating the throne and leaving to fight in the Dale army. Murdered and then brought back to life by dark magic decades later. Almost a century had passed since he was born, but his body had been preserved by the time underneath the ocean waves. He was, to the naked eye, a stallion in his prime. Albeit a stallion who had seen a lot during his years, which was obvious enough by the scars that riddled his body. He was a handsome stallion, but he was also a weathered one.

His body was no longer perfect.

“You were correct about that. The Field is a fine starting place if you are looking for a home.” One ear perked a little at the use of ‘sir,’ and one corner of his lacerated lips rose in the corner. Magnus was not without a temper, but he did not stir easily—at least not visually. Years of practice had taught him how to hold black rage back. Not that a little bit of jesting would draw forth his ire. The buckskin stallion was well equipped to handle a little bit of humor, especially if meant a strong stallion joining the army ranks.

Eying the other stallion for a second, he remained silent. He enjoyed recruiting for many reasons (namely, he found it a worthwhile use of his time to help people be matched to the right home) but he also knew as well as any that it was a two-way street. He did not extend an invitation to someone who he thought would bring harm to his home just to swell their numbers; he would only recruit someone who would be a right fit. “So, tenderfoot,” he emphasizes the word, gold-flecked eyes flickering with good humor, “what are you looking for in a home? That is, if you are looking at all.” He could play the game just as well as the other; and if Nymphetamine was going to go about calling him old, he may as well turn the tables.

[Nymphetamine]

 

Like a thorn to the holy ones       The young stag's eyes widened ever so slightly at the use of tenderfoot. the older stag read the thoughts behind his eyes well for him to guess he called him old in the safety of his thoughts. The older sandy stag would be fun to jest with, a smirk played on his lips but momentarily. As the old one jumped right to the questions again. Maybe it was his pirate of a father, always taking the roundabout approach to gather his information living the game that was forming alliances and dealing with challenges. His father lived for it, so a straight forward approach hit him blindside at times.  A home? What do I truly need? He was young, his needs had never been the priority. So what did he need? He needed to be able speak his mind, he would sit back and go along with things he was against. He needed someone to push him, challenge him as his father had. The young stag's eyes were soft in thought. For a moment he was a pirate on land, unsure of his footing and cursing his sea legs to behave under still ground. He shook his head knocking the thoughts of being unsure out of his head. His stability came from his parents, and the his stability was the unstable, being on the move. Now that he was on more steady ground he might as well be at sea. It was unusual for him. My needs in a home? Opportunity, challenge, kinship, ...possibly a mentor it the right elder exists. It isn't that the blood stallion had a mask up, or that he was pretending his confidence was real, like a mask. He was confident, strong willed even, but he simply had never thought about what life would be like once he found himself a new place. He was strong. He knew himself well. His ears perked back to Magnus, curious as to what the stag would say next. The game was direct, yet just quippy enough to tickle his fancy.  Why do you ask? Do you offer something that fits? ooc: sorry, my HTML code got all wonky. Hopefully it is easier to tell Italics (thoughts) and bold (spoken) now.    The Puppet Master: Nymphetamine  They see him: Blood Bay Ghosts within: Alkah-teke x Arabian  They Run From Him at: 16.2  He’s made it this far: 2 years    Remember him by: He will always be a bit of a wander, and if he does settle down to one place or with one fae it will be later in life. He is sly and outgoing, and cares very much about family and keeping his word. He doesn't remember much of his family, but knows the fact he made it here to,well he isn't quite sure where here is, because of the sacrifice his parents made. Nymphetamine is the some of a pirate, if you will. The kind of horse that wanders into luck and fortune and seems to know the minute mischief is in the air. His father wasn't one to settle down either- until he met his mother. A fierce tongued fae with a dark heart, she understood and maybe even loved his father's distant, detached ways. Nymphetamine was very much a mix of his parents, fierce tongued and independent with a lucky streak to pull him through during rough times--or maybe stir things up.         Cold was my soul  Untold was the pain  I faced when you left me  A rose in the rain....  So I swore to the razor  That never, enchained  Would your dark nails of faith  Be pushed through my veins again    Bared on your tomb  I'm a prayer for your loneliness  And would you ever soon  Come above onto me?  For once upon a time  On the binds of your lowliness  I could always find the slot for your sacred key    Six feet deep is the incision  In my heart, that barless prison  Discoulours all with tunnel vision    Sunsetter...  Nymphetamine    HTML Copyright To Tay.

                  

[magnus]

This was the easy part—the part that Magnus excelled at. He was confident when he was conversing with other souls in the Field because what they talked about was so familiar to him. He had spent decades walking amongst them and had even been there once himself, although he had ultimately declined all of the recruiter’s offers before making his choice to return to the Gates. It had been tempting to start over in the Field and find a new home after coming back to life—but he felt obligated to return to Heaven. Even though Joelle was no longer around, he still felt her presence; he had to protect her home on her behalf.

“Depends,” is all he answers with a shadow of a smile. There was something intriguing about the other stallion; he wasn’t exactly the usual resident of Heaven, but the kingdom had seen all kinds of souls live there over the years. It would be stereotypical to say that they were all ‘Light’ in spirit. “I come from a kingdom here called Heaven’s Gates.” He knew how the name sounded but he continued, “And, honestly, we need soldiers, fighters, diplomats. We need souls who are willing to find purpose in the kingdom.”

There is a pause as he looks at the other stallion, sizing him up. “Last year, we were attacked by another kingdom and they burned our ground, stole our Queen.” It had been before he had returned, but he doesn’t mention that, just continues. “There is opportunity there to rise up the ranks. Challenge in fighting against what’s wrong. Kinship in your fellow soldiers and kingdom residents.” Another pause as he rolls his scarred shoulders, “I may not be an elder, but I have mentored horses before. I would be happy to help you mock battle, learn the ropes of the kingdom, or in any way that you need.”

Magnus does not mention his past or current positions, it seemed irrelevant. Instead, he just cocks a back leg, black tail flicking at his scarred sides. “I can answer any other questions, if you have them.”

[ooc] sorry about the confusion! <3

[Pride88]

Like a thorn to the holy ones Nymphetamine had been here only a matter of days. He had only observed from a far the others here. He had much to learn about this place, and how those who called this area home did things. To be sure of anything here would be farce. He knew himself, and was gaining an understanding of the only soul he had conversed with thus far.  The sun was still high enough in the sky, he had time still before he had to worry for cover and nightfall. The depth of his pools looked at the relaxed nature of Magnus. The scars across his flanks showed he had earned his rights and rank, his ease in approaching unknown visitors showed courage. The sandy stag had wit, possessed some skill to survive the scars on his sides and health to heal so well. In a new land that is what Nymph needed most, perfection could wait. Your home sound interesting. What of the others who live there? He reached down and scratched his head on his knee, keeping his wits about him. While he is willing to be more relaxed, considering the recruitment, better safe than sorry. HE was curious about this group of beasts, he could learn from them if the older spoke true. I could go, but I won't promise to stay--forever is too long." ooc: not your fault!  I should have checked my HTML after not using it for years and on a different type of forum board!   The Puppet Master: Nymphetamine They see him: Blood Bay Ghosts within: Alkah-teke x Arabian They Run From Him at: 16.2 He’s made it this far: 2 years Remember him by: He will always be a bit of a wander, and if he does settle down to one place or with one fae it will be later in life. He is sly and outgoing, and cares very much about family and keeping his word. He doesn't remember much of his family, but knows the fact he made it here to,well he isn't quite sure where here is, because of the sacrifice his parents made. Nymphetamine is the some of a pirate, if you will. The kind of horse that wanders into luck and fortune and seems to know the minute mischief is in the air. His father wasn't one to settle down either- until he met his mother. A fierce tongued fae with a dark heart, she understood and maybe even loved his father's distant, detached ways. Nymphetamine was very much a mix of his parents, fierce tongued and independent with a lucky streak to pull him through during rough times--or maybe stir things up. Cold was my soul Untold was the pain I faced when you left me A rose in the rain.... So I swore to the razor That never, enchained Would your dark nails of faith Be pushed through my veins again Bared on your tomb I'm a prayer for your loneliness And would you ever soon Come above onto me? For once upon a time On the binds of your lowliness I could always find the slot for your sacred key Six feet deep is the incision In my heart, that barless prison Discoulours all with tunnel vision Sunsetter... Nymphetamine HTML Copyright To Tay.

[Keeva]

Show me the world as you know it

She finally took a break from her herd life with Kii and the mare and the foal, honestly it was getting crowded anyway. So the young mare made her way to the field yet again and just wondered around looking at the trees and how they sway in the breeze or the different scents of equines and other animals wafted in the breeze. She stopped when she saw two stallions one familiar the other not so much.

She walks over to the stallions her tan and red mane blowing in the breeze slightly her posture relaxed but proper and her lilac eyes wide and friendly. "Hello gentlemen, mind if I join this little chit chat?" she said her bell like tone soft and gentle like the breeze around them her chestnut and white streaked coat glimmering slightly in the veiled sunshine. She turned her head and smiled at Magnus "Hello Magnus, its been a while since we have talked." She said bowing her head politely at the stallion, then she looked at the other "Hello, I suspect you are new sir? Hello, My name is Keeva. Welcome to the Fields of Beqanna" She said her eyes meeting the other stallions as her mouth curled into a sweet smile  

Keeva

Art by

[Nymphetamine]

Like a thorn to the holy ones The blood bay stallion's words had just left his lips, and he must have been in deeper thought than he realized as he had no idea the mare had approached. Nymphetamine's spires flicked to her as she came to halt before them. He watched her as she addressed the old man, Magnus, first. Her mane and tale stirred in the wind. He watched at patches of white flickered into view from under her mane. She had a unique coloring, different than his own red mahogany, but unique. The fae was young, but probably older than he. If she were younger than I, she would be just a babe. He smiled slightly at himself, he knew himself but he knew not feminine ones that wandered. He had friends of the fae nature back in his father's lands, before the fires....before he had to flee. They were all just babes then- and the smile she flashed was not the jesting grin his friend had flashed as the played in the trees all those months ago. Once more it was as if he had sea legs on solid ground. Not used to the world he found himself in. Dark, deep pools focused as to not show his lack of game, his newness to the adult world he was venturing.  He allowed a smile to part along his maw and then allowed it part to address the lass before him. Aye miss, I am new to this place. Please, call me Nymphetamine. The Old Man was telling me all about The Hates, I mean Gates. What has you out today? The glint in his eye as he opening called Magnus old with the fae present showed his jest, but karma smacked him upside the head in instant retribution. Nymphetamine could not believe he lost his form, his father would not have been pleased. Ease of tongue was a needed- was mandatory at all times. Power over yourself was a requirement of the Heir. He stomped a dagger, hoping it looked like itch, or an early season fly. Thought he would never be the Heir to his father's lands now, he wanted to live by the rules his father taught him from a young age. He knew the old man would notice, but hoped his prodding manor earlier wouldn't push the sandy toned stag to add to his dismay. Feeling the need to redeem himself he decided he had to speak again, this time paying attention instead of being distracted.   Tell me belle, what say you about The Gates? How had he been caught unaware? How had his guard been down?  Jest had never caused him to falter in the past. The conversation with the stag had been generally brief. He had been trained, knew better?  The fae had come up and he had not even noticed-- that hadn't happened since he was a colt. Nymphetamine let the thought go and listened for his companions' replies. The Puppet Master: Nymphetamine They see him: Blood Bay Ghosts within: Alkah-teke x Arabian They Run From Him at: 16.2 He’s made it this far: 2 years Remember him by: He will always be a bit of a wander, and if he does settle down to one place or with one fae it will be later in life. He is sly and outgoing, and cares very much about family and keeping his word. He doesn't remember much of his family, but knows the fact he made it here to,well he isn't quite sure where here is, because of the sacrifice his parents made. Nymphetamine is the some of a pirate, if you will. The kind of horse that wanders into luck and fortune and seems to know the minute mischief is in the air. His father wasn't one to settle down either- until he met his mother. A fierce tongued fae with a dark heart, she understood and maybe even loved his father's distant, detached ways. Nymphetamine was very much a mix of his parents, fierce tongued and independent with a lucky streak to pull him through during rough times--or maybe stir things up. Cold was my soul Untold was the pain I faced when you left me A rose in the rain.... So I swore to the razor That never, enchained Would your dark nails of faith Be pushed through my veins again Bared on your tomb I'm a prayer for your loneliness And would you ever soon Come above onto me? For once upon a time On the binds of your lowliness I could always find the slot for your sacred key Six feet deep is the incision In my heart, that barless prison Discoulours all with tunnel vision Sunsetter... Nymphetamine HTML Copyright To Tay.

[magnus]

His body is a tale of contradictions in this time spent with the other stallion.

On one hand, he had the air of someone who was in complete control and completely relaxed: his back leg was cocked, his tail casually flicking at his sides, one ear perked toward his companion. On the other hand, there was something tense and ready about him. Perhaps it was in the hardness of the muscles under his scarred coat or the way that his gold-flecked eyes would casually flick toward the rest of the field in practiced motions. He was enjoying himself with the other, but that did not mean that he would be easily caught unaware anytime soon.

“We are growing,” is all he responds at first, lacerated lips pulling into a shadow of a smile. “Our King is named Mast, and he is a fair ruler. There are a handful of us in the army, although I have often found that people in the Gates tend to favor the diplomatic caste more often.” A husky laugh, “Perhaps that is why I am so eager to have another soldier in the ranks. We could use a strong body and strategic mind.” What he doesn’t say is that Magnus was not against having someone without light tendencies in the army.

He himself was not against darker tactics so long as the end justified the means.

It is then that the mare approaches the duo, and Magnus shifts to make his stance more open to the both of them. Her greeting perplexes him for a second (he certainly does not remember meeting her) but he brushes it off as the consequence of meeting a lot of souls and having a weak memory. His smile is warm and he nods his handsome head her way, gold-streaked forelock falling over his wide forehead. “The more the merrier, Keeva. I think I speak for both of us when I say that you are welcome to join.”

One corner of his lip jerked upward in the corner as he eyed Nymphetamine, before looking back to the mare. “Aye, I was indeed telling the colt about the kingdoms.” He emphasized the word ‘colt’ briefly, eyes flashing with humor before he noticed the other stallion’s irritation. Magnus said nothing to draw attention to it, instead glossing over it as he picked up the conversation again. “Where do you call home, Keeva?” Most who came to these areas were either looking for a home or people to join it, but he had the odd sensation that she was neither.