Oh, What fickle flame - 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: The Jungle (https://beqanna.com/forum/forumdisplay.php?fid=15) +----- Thread: Oh, What fickle flame (/showthread.php?tid=6962) |
Oh, What fickle flame - Lupei - 02-25-2016 lupei What the truth is, I can't say anymore ooc: wildfire out of control in the Jungle! Happy war times! <3 ALL AMAZONS. - prague - 02-25-2016 I'm supposed to be strong and have all the answers, But I'm nothing special, I'm not unique, I have many secrets and I eat the weak All it took was one flame to set this all in motion - Straia had lit the first one and the iron mare had vanished within mere milliseconds. Above all else, she must protect the Jungle - her live, her heart (though it was traveling outside of her body somewhere in hiding), her mind was with Lagertha and not where it should have been. It is no surprise that she watches overhead as the smoke begins to rise and she sees the jungle creatures scurrying about. She smells the singed feathers, fur and immediately cries out for the lioness they have been left with as their spirit. She shifts into a lioness, silver in form and sees the wolf tailing his way out. The silver lioness then pulls her focus inward, the anger is growing so rapidly that her muscles tighten to the point they ache. She digs her claws into the soil, the lion spirit beside her and roars - it is painful, it is loud, it is shrill. Her body begins to shake and the ground below her moves too, the crackles and ashes of the fire would not last for long - Prague calls all the creatures to her, her sisters included, "Come to me, my sisters - my home, come now or drown," she says pulling them - she hopes for her sisters to rush and that they have not perished. The monkeys swing from crashing branches towards her - their numbers shrinking, lions and cheetahs racing against one another - serpants, boars, tigers, elephants. "Sunday!" she cries out, hoping the mare is near and can help her though she could do it alone, it would be exhausting - adrenaline can get her through this...for now. She lifts the ground beneath them as they all fall in - a high point as the rainclouds begin to move in. Lightning crashes against a dark sky, the winds pick up and the weaker trees begin to snap - the wind was deafening but she kept pushing, taking a breath and roaring again, the flood had started. They are far above the sea level they once were and save from the flooding - she could stop it but a few flames remained. They only thought they wanted to play with fire, they're playing with a lot more than fire at this point. She shifts the spirit into a spider and drops her jaw for it to crawl in, the spirit will remain with her until this is all over. P R A G U E magical, immortal protector of the jungle RE: Oh, What fickle flame - Vineine - 02-25-2016 Those great goddesses of peace. It booms in her ears. Her head jerks up and her nostrils widen. Smoke. Acrid and dark – so impossibly dark as it takes banana tree bark and large nests weaved by overhead societies of apes, who erupt in sharp and angry screaming and howling. A thousand vibrant wings hum and take air, cawing madly. Hundred of paws, like ghosts when they are one, come together in an unnatural many and thunder. The wild and panicked wail of elephant trunks split the air like nothing possibly can as they cry to the ones they love to flee and be safe. “Longear!” she turns, panic gripping her chest, screaming over the din of an entire jungle in peril and motion. And fire. The singed scent of bark and petals hit her nose. “Longear!” The rose grey spins around, nickering shrilly for her daughter, until from the underbrush her rabbit comes, breathing heavy and flattening in fear. “Run! Follow them, as you are! Now! Find the rest of the sisters, find the mare that is calling.” The girl is off, faster and more agile close to the ground in her other-body. She turns too. And she runs. Vines whip across her body, slip down her neck and press deep into her throat her until she can duck and fight past them. Dark clouds gather overhead and thunder cracks the sky, and then it pours and she wonders if her mother crossed this same path as waters wetted the floor into thick and sucking mud. When she reaches Prague, Longear is in her filly form, feverishly keeping watch for her mother. “Longear, here,” they reach for each other and the girl tucks herself close. “I will stay. I’m not a solider, Prague, but if anyone must leave young, leave them with me,” she turns to eye a scowling gather of jaguars, the mountainous pacing of elephants, already circling their own young. “Have a couple of them stay with me if you can, and I promise, nothing touches them. I will make sure you know they, and this place, is safe. If we are breached, then this whole pace has been lost.” But it won’t be. It has survived water. It will survive fire. charoli of the amazons & mother RE: Oh, What fickle flame - Joscelin - 02-25-2016 There's a song in your lung and a dream in your eye. She had known it was coming. She had known it was coming for a long time. She just didn’t think that she would be sleeping when it did. Joscelin Tiphon x Elysteria RE: Oh, What fickle flame - Lyris - 02-25-2016 She’s been keeping to herself for some time now, raising Larken in the quiet places of the Jungle. The little spotted girl has been more than a handful, and she’s found it better to keep her away from the hustle and bustle of the Jungle’s daily life. It’s certainly giving her a new appreciation for what her mother had done for her as a child - she feels a bit bad for the poor mare now. But despite her isolation, her instincts are not dead. When the first scent of fire reaches her nostrils she springs into action, racing towards the central Jungle with only one pause to ensure that Larken is following along behind. She can feel the residual heat long before she sees the ashes, and when she finally does she’s pleased to see that other members of the Jungle have already beaten her there. Including Prague, still unmistakable in her lion form (not many talking lions out there after all). Larken gives an excited squeal from behind her (“Mama!”) and Lyris is forced to force the girl back with winds as the child tries to tackle her other mother. “Larken! Not now!” Lyris focuses in as Prague begins to speak, calling upon the sisters to decent their home. War … the war is finally here. Something within her raises its head, something she hasn’t felt in quite some time. Passion, fire, ANGER. The rustling in the forest, the arrival of all the Jungle’s creatures only adds more fuel. Someone has burned the Jungle and it’s time to make them pay. “I will follow you Prague!” Though she has mellowed out in the years since having her daughters, she will still be a force to be reckoned with on the battlefield. She turns quickly to little Larken, who’s still straining at the little winds holding her in place. “You will stay here, do you understand me?! It’s far too dangerous for you to come with me. STAY HERE.” The girl looks for a moment as if she’s going to argue, then seems to think better of it. She nods, mutely. “And find your sister, send her to follow me.” Lexa is young yet, but the girl has a clear head and power of her own. She needs to learn to fight some time … it might as well be now. Lyris I’ll burn this whole city down html by maat | gif by headlikeanorange.tumblr.comRE: Oh, What fickle flame - Aoi - 02-29-2016 Years have passed since the Chamber first burned the Mother Tree and the rumor of war began to spread. Years have passed since the Jungle had awoken her from her deep slumber after having preserved her from the great flood (not many remember that now). Aoi and Sitra are patrolling the Jungle’s perimeter when the scent of smoke stops them in their tracks. The distant caw of a single raven stands out against the din of jungle voices - foreign and foreboding. Then there is chaos as the Jungle breaks out into panic. From the wall of trees the animals flee, macaws and toucans overhead, boars and leopards at their feet. Aoi watches them as they flood forth, breaking around her and her daughter. “Stay close, Sitra” She says, eerily calm in the face of disarray. Then she barrels forward into fray towards flame and flood water alike. Prague calls them from the heart of their Mother Jungle, and Aoi urges Sitra to keep up. The young black filly follows without fear. She was born into these tangled vines. Navigating them at speed comes rather naturally to her. Steam comes rising to choke them as Prague drowns the white fire Lupei had set upon them. They emerge from a wall of pale clouds to join the magician, their sisters, and an array of animals. Aoi counts them, looking specifically for Kataclysm. She hopes that she hasn’t been lost to flood or flame. Prague asks for soldiers to stay behind and guard their Mother Jungle. Aoi nods solemnly, lips taught. She is angry. She wants revenge, but she will not be the one to seek it - not today. “I will stay behind.” She says. Then she turns to Sitra, “You stay with Vineine.” She offers a thankful nod to the rose gray sister. With that she leaves to take up her post. A O I & S I T R A |