Sunsetter [laura pony, any]

[Nymphetamine]

Nymphetamine

Sun Setter,

He woke groggily, sleep clinging to him like he hadn’t slept in far too long. Steal eyes blinked slowly,  eyelids pressed together for a moment before pulling apart to clear the blurry haze from his eyes. As he became awake, his awareness came fully screaming into his mind. Something is wrong. Very very wrong.  


Gone was the musky smell of the Grotto he had fallen asleep in. The frigid cold that had taken over everything around him and brought the thick deadly moss over every inch of his home was gone. The smell of wet rock and sound of dripping water was replaced by hot grass, and the feel of sun on his back. As he looked around he knew instantly that he was back.  He was shocked to still feel the counterweight of his Ibex horns curving backwards from his skull. And when he tested his abilities from what he now knew as normal, he was comforted to find they still remained as they were elsewhere. Not that he would have minded feeling the surge of familiarity that was his old necromancy abilities, but he had mourned that loss, and gotten used to his new abilities.


Nymphetamine got on his feet, unsure how he felt about being back, other than he was grateful for the reprieve from the cold. He had changed from the lost stallion he was at his departure from Beqanna. There was a greater darkness in him now. He didn’t care what others thought and he did as he saw fit for the situation, others ideals and rules be damned. And as he stook in the sights of the meadow he had traversed for over 20 years he only felt the darkness in him flair. Beqanna, this place… he had fled it for a reason, but to be thrown back here against his will he was less than thrilled.  He called out to the bones in the land, and rose from the earth the skeleton of a bobcat, long since deceased. The bones themselves were clean of any tissue, and it brought a comforted smile to the blood bay’s lips. With the bones fully reassembled, she took to crossing the large meadow with it’s tall amber and green grasses. Nymhpetamine’s tall frame parted the grasses and commanded the bones to follow, the carbon frame clacking quietly beside him as it walked.


Once he was in the center of the meadow, he looked around with a grimace. The Necromancer knew not what he was to do, nor why he had been sent back to these lands. He had nothing left here. His home, his herd, his friends, and his child were all in a whole other world, and he just needed to get home… now it was just a matter of figuring out what he had to do to get back.  

@laura

OOC: so I posted him as he is now, on other game b/c can't see posting him another way. he has other abilities now but I didn't use them outside of what he can technically do here so it shouldn't be a problem. Also, he has horns now, I don't plan on bringing him back fully, just this thread for Laura so I hope admin won't begrudge me leaving him as he has been for me this past year. 


Also please let laura reply first, then if anyone else wants to join, i'm fine with that.

[magnus]

magnus

howling ghosts, they reappear
in mountains that are stacked with fear

Magnus is not often in the meadow. It is more often that the golden stallion finds himself wandering the border of his home or making his way to the field, introducing himself to the lost souls who find themselves there, doing his part to guide them home. But today, he changes his pattern, established as they are, veering left instead of right on his way out of his volcanic home. The path leads him toward the meadow, the grass turning more lush, the vegetation blooming in new and familiar ways. The sight brings a strange buoyancy to him, his heart strangely light as he finds himself on the brink of the other land.

Throughout the years, Magnus had experienced more pain than one ought to. He has experienced death, loss, betrayal. He felt deep-seated guilt for it all—for the ways he could have prevented it.

Still, today, he shed the guilt. Shed the ache that so often permeated his bones.

Instead, he tipped his head back, letting the sun wash over him, warming him from the inside out.

When he brings his head back down, his eyes widen slightly at the side of the blood bay.

For a moment, amusement crosses over his face and he presses his lips together in thought before he sighs, shaking the dust from his coat and making his way toward the stallion. Neither friend nor foe and always something different entirely, Magnus cannot stop himself from raising a metaphorical brow at the creature the necromancer has erected at his side. “You always were one for the dramatic entrances, Nymphetamine.” He still remembers the young colt in the field, so hungry to prove himself, so hungry to make his mark. Magnus couldn’t help but wonder if perhaps he’d failed him in not shielding him better.

“It’s been a long time.” He pauses, crooked smile touching his inky lips. “How have you been?”

but you're a king and I'm a lionheart