OOC: wanted to have Reuen accompany Mast, hope that's Alright? Also wanted to get it up before I have no time this weekend. =[ ignore icky post though, please. -pokes post-
IC:
I follow, somewhat more like a shadow than anything else. Like a darkness behind a ray of light. My head was low, eyes drawing lines along the changing topography. I snatch at twigs and chew on them, more of a tentative habit than of hunger. My body all disportionate, swollen, heaving barrel. Uncomfortably I move. Chocolate skin taut again healing wounds and jutting bones. There was a lightness in my hollow eyes as I accompanied the silver king.
I hummed. A strange noise against the wind -- mimicking the howl as the breeze whipped past the trees, enticing the naked boughs to dance like eerie fingers, curling and reaching out for me. Widening my gaze, I shot forward. Out of their reach, out of the darkness. My eerie song continues, as I turn my gaze to Mast, a trying smile formed on my lips.
'It's dark here. The shadows consume all.' My voice held the same winter chill as the air. my voice came in billows of breath. Knitted tendrils falling over my eyes as I pulled to s halt, just behind my king. He'd made sure the shadows wouldnt take me. He was the light, he could stop them. Couldnt he?
”Look who we have here…” Red eyes flash in the shadows, his ghostly figure becoming brighter as he confidently snakes his way towards them. Aoki would not be far off, more than likely watching from the thick brambles he had instructed her to stay in. He highly doubted she would leave, so crazed with the hope that he could make this Crow creature disappear once and for all. He was beginning to think of disappearing himself and taking his new plaything somewhere else… The Chamber not what he had remembered it to be. Perhaps his talents, and gifts, would be more appreciated elsewhere. The Valley seemed his only other option and yet he stayed in the heart of his old home.. His patience waning and yet unable to leave once and for all just yet. Maybe this is why.
” Beautiful ruin…. Couldn’t stay away from me could you?” He chuckles with little warmth or humor, ruby iris’s glancing at the stallion she had brought along with her disdainfully. Sizing him up. They smell of good things like sunshine and flowers and it makes him want to vomit. How badly he wants to kick this stallion right in the jaw, his hooves dancing on his head till it cracks like an egg. Spewing yolk everywhere. Instead he gives a fake smile, red eyes coolly regarding him. ”Perhaps your friend can go elsewhere so I can better enjoy your company…” Focusing back on the little fat and broken mare with a gleam in the depths of red. ”Dear sweet Reuen.”
G R Y F F E N
*********the big bad wolf
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Couldn't help myself =)
08-11-2015, 06:17 PM
(This post was last modified: 08-11-2015, 06:18 PM by Mast.)
I've heard there was a secret chord
that David played and it pleased the Lord
but you don't really care for music do you?
Despite being born of the shadows, he is of the light. The gray stallion is a symbol for what’s good in the world, and he tries his best to see it in everyone he meets. He is not, however, stupid, and he is well-aware that there are bad apples in each and every bunch. They can’t all be the shiny red fruit at the top of the bushel; some around bound to find their way to the bottom. Despite all of that, he still would like to believe that given the chance, they too could polish up. He doesn’t share others views of the Chamber; he does not believe they are all inherently evil, or bloodthirsty, or anything other than the same flesh and blood that he is. Thus far the kingdom had borne his no ill-will, and he preferred it stay that way.
“It’s fine, Reuen” he says as they wait idly in the shadows of the border. It is colder here than the Gates, the the trees seem thicker and less welcoming. Perhaps he’s just seeing it that way and it isn’t really so. As they wait quietly, the shadows bring forth a ghost of a horse, all pale skin and red eyes. The Gray King tenses slightly, moving instinctively closer to Reuen. Finally the pale stallion speaks, and Mast’s ears flicker backwards for just a moment. There is a tone there, a promise of threat, that curdles his stomach. “While I’m sure Reuen would love that, I believe I’ll stay with her.” he said curtly, glancing in her direction. He knew how delicate she was, like a thin layer of ice; it would not take much to make her crack. “I’m Mast, King of the Gates. Your queen, is she here? You know, politics and all that.” he said quickly, a fake tense smile lifting the corners of his black lips. Shifting his weight, he waited, not patiently, but waited nonetheless.
M A S T
I WILL ALWAYS FIND YOU
He was no diplomat, not even close, but he finds his way through the copse all the same. It didn’t take much to throw a wrench in the otherwise harmonious au de parfume of the Chamber, but sprinkle in sugar, spice and all things nice? Might as well split the shadows with an air horn.
The bay slunk through the pine pillars, silk drapery past the rough bark, hardly any signs left of the fire. The forest had healed in that aspect at least, though there were sure signs of the inferno still lingering like ghosts. Speaking of ghouls, he watched the red eyed devil converse with their visitors. He didn’t approve, Gryffen would be no help in a business meeting. He wasn’t of much more assistance, but then again he wasn’t any worse. Actually, to be right up front they should be glad he had even bothered to pop in.
He gives a small nod to the pallid stag, the one with the gleaming eyes and hungry stare. He hadn’t spent much time with Gryffen really, though he hadn’t really spent much time with any of his newer herd mates. He would expect Engel to be along soon, sweeping in with words and welcome. A much warmer personality compared to the testosterone fueled brutes, whispers of sweet words to fill their ears.
"Hello, I'm Killdare, Lieutenant for the army. Did you find your way okay?" He wasn't the best at pleasantries, but he could be polite if nothing else. His sea glass eyes focused on the two messengers, he would look at anyone who spoke directly.
KILLDARE Tracker Lieutenant of the Chamber
i want the world in my hands
 How funny that Mast and Straia share the same view of the Chamber. She doesn’t describe them as evil. They are not, in fact, all evil by any particular means. Certainly, some of them like to eat bunnies, and others like to collect broken toys, and she simply likes to know everything. But in the end, they all simply serve the good of the Chamber, whatever that may be. Can they help it, if the heart that beats in the Chamber wants powers, wants chaos? No, she doesn’t think they can.
However, in no way shape or form does she believe she needs to be polished up. Straia is nothing but polished. She is a wild but elegant sort of beauty. The kind that either doesn’t know, or doesn’t care, that she is beautiful. Her mane is long, and hangs on either side of her neck. On her head is her crown of raven feathers that catch the glimpses of sun that peak through the pines. She comes today as well with raven wings tucked against her side.
Gryffen and Killdare arrive to the party first. She’s not far off, lingering in the shadows of the pines just out of sight. Apparently the broken girl from the Gates is here. Gryffen is simply stalking his prey. He’s no mind of diplomacy, which is fine. Straia has no mind for diplomacy with the Gates either. Next Killdare, who tries to be slightly politer. She should probably be grateful. Certainly, she is that the warrior is working for the Chamber. But she’s rather over the Gates. Their last Queen had annoyed her endlessly, and she doubted this new King would be any different.
Eventually, she comes to join the group. “Only a fool would bring a girl like her here. And I have very little time for fools. But I am the Queen you seek. So what can I do for Mast?” She falls silent then, waiting to see what the Gates could possibly want.
straia the raven queen of the chamber
He ignores Mast, so called King. King of what? A bunch of fairies and losers? As far as the Gates are concerned, he could give a shit about them. Jason had put the nail in the coffin in regards to that, although he had never much cared for the Gates to begin with. Others come to play diplomat so he keeps his focus on the mind addled mare. When Straia comes, she simply speaks what he had been thinking. Why bring someone like her here? Why present her on a silver platter for the Chamber ghost to feast on? As they speak, he takes advantage of the distraction and slowly sidles up to her. ”Reuen you can’t fool me.” He whispers in her ear, devious and tantalizing. ”I know why you came here.” Muzzle trailing below her ear, his breath hot on her neck. ”You missed your ghost.” A red eye rolls over to the others, gauging what is happening before returning his seductive tones to her. ”Stay. Let your ghost protect you.”
G R Y F F E N
*********the big bad wolf
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08-17-2015, 06:11 AM
(This post was last modified: 08-17-2015, 07:02 AM by Reuen.)
how much heartache can we take?
The shadows are much darker here, colder. The way they wrap themselves like enticing tendrils, wanton against me, like gnarled fingers hooking into all my cracks and crevasses, whispering promises to take my broken parts and make them whole, the darkness always finds a way to seep into the gaps, filling my core with a coldness, a doubt that seems to stretch over my bones, close like skin. My hazel eyes, they find Mast, a reassurance I seem to need right now. The dancing shadows, they pull and they tear at me, once a gentle caress, now a harsher touch. Force. There had always been force, I feel it now, knitting into my bones, my flesh. the scars that tremble with the breeze, against the cold, damp of the forests. It aches right down, bone deep. Aches so much so, I find myself pressing against the pallid King. As if in some strange way the closeness, I could merge with him and the shadows might not see me, not pick out the weaker, broken girl against the grey King.
Oh, but it is not the shadows that I need worry. For I pick out the red eyes from a distance, they burrow into the furrows of my soul, my mind. Searching for whatever he might find. A treasure hunter that buries deep and deeper, only to find nothing. A broken treasure trove, once spilling gold and jewels, now broken, as weary as my own mind. shattered open to reveal nothing but the cobwebs and dust. Gryffen's eyes are ever-predatory, and it is the crimson glint, reminiscent of blood, twinkling wet agains the moon, that chills me further. His ghoulish proscenia, pulling far more than the Chamber's shadows, deeper than my flesh, deeper than my bone. The wispy wraith of my existence, the galloping throes of my heart.
'Gryffen.' his name tastes like the faded autumn grass, bittersweet, against my tongue. I roll his name against the damp air, and shiver ever more. My hazel eyes find him, the ghoul of the Chamber, the shadow of my nightmares, and I watch him, like a torn leaf against the autumn backdrop, I tremble, I shake. Chocolate skin peppered with the ash and dust. 'Friend. Mast. Mast is my friend.' I pause, deciding to shift ever so slightly, as to give the pale king some room. He was burning sunlight through the shadows, and somehow, somehow I need to have him near. Chocolate butter eyes melt then, like the ink of the shadows into the mist of the trees, glazing with both memory and fear, widening more and more. But I remain silent, as the sentinel trees, bend and whisper in the wind, so that I am, trying to attempt the remain sturdy, resolute in my standing. I watch as another approaches, earthy, as though he has been animated from an earthen grave. I watch him, intensely, he did not tread the same path as Gyrffen, he did not tempt to haunt my dreams and weave my nightmares so expertly.
The painted lady, I recall. She spins upon her fingertips the shadows, the feathery trail that drapes her like an ebony cloak. She barks, a beast, a predator. I sink onto my hocks, my knees buckling a little but I remain upright, as close to Mast as it is even possible, as close as it would be. If I had hands, they would be wringing into his, body pressed, skin against skin. She speaks of fools, and my mind darkens, my eyes drawing up to meet her. I feel a pulse in my tongue, a want for words, a want for something. Yet I find my tone cool, crisp, like the breeze that pulls at the pines. 'No time for fools. Yet Mast is no fool. The Queen, she makes time for worthy, worthy ones.' a flinty hoof lifts and paws at the moist earth, tentatively declaring some sort of point. 'Make time for Mast, for Mast is worthy. Queen to King, King to Queen.' But I then retreat back, sidling backwards a little, only to be wrapped around Gryffen, like some weary doll, all limbless and unconscious. With one so weary, he could do much.
His sweet whispers sends a chill over me, pulling and tearing at sinew and bone, chilling me down to my core. 'Ghosts have a funny way of reappearing.' I pause, the mental images of corpses, of wraiths that descend across the fiery loam, they fill my eyes, my mind. 'Reuen is no ghost hunter. Reuen hunts safe. Reuen hunts safety.' Hazel eyes find his crimson orbs, keeping them there, a stare that binds me with some sort of thread, fine and piercing. the longer I stare, the more I feel the throes of my heart, my soul, turn to ice, turn to crystalline glass, one unsightly stare, one daring word and I am sure I shall crumble. 'They are just shadows. Shadows chasing ghosts.' I mumble, words unspoken, but eyes filled with the memory, the memory that strokes at me, with tentative fingers. I take a step away from the protection of Mast, daring, audacious even, head drawing up, I shake it, resolutely, Meaningfully. 'You haunt me. Wraith, Ghost. Ghoul. You haunt me, you haunt Reuen. Why. Why would Reuen want to stay with the demon, the ghost?' The voices within, they are memories, at least I think. Cruel little digs, ice-cold whispers that chill me further than Gryffen's crimson stare. I shake my head, silvery tresses falling over my glass-like eyes. Hiding, concealing the truth. 'The Gates are safe. Mast is safe. Safe.' because that is all I need. That is all Reuen needs. Safety, safety from the shadows, the dark, the ice, the fire.
And yet, yet my safety seems to be crumbling right before my eyes. What is safe anymore?
R E U E N
little broken girl of the gates
”Ghosts are always there. As am I.” He murmurs into the thickness of her mane before pulling back, meeting her gaze with his own steely crimson glare. Perhaps Mast, the worthy King, is too distracted by politics to notice that his little companion has stepped away from his protective stance. Moving towards the darkness, towards him. In response, he takes a few steps back as if to draw her further away. His laughter is soft as it eases from his chest, a taunting look to his broken doll. ”Such lies that come from such sweet lips.” Another low chortle as he tosses his head, continuing to ease back from her while hissing his haunting words. Lacing them together in a snare to trap her. ”You will never find the security you seek dear girl. It’s impossible. You’re only safe in what you know.”
Curved lips, glimmer of crimson. ”All you know is ghosts. You want ghosts.” He holds her gaze, refusing to drop it and not allowing her to look elsewhere either. There is no magic here, not the magic that runs rampant in this world. It’s a different element that weaves the tone of his voice and the tantalizing words that drip with honey and promise. ”Admit it, little ruined girl, you want me.” The swish of his tail against the side of his flank, the crimson gaze peering through tendrils of dirty white. Filled with empty promises. Ashes in his mouth. ”All you have to do is say it.”
Gryffen
- - - - - The Big Bad Wolf |
@[Reuen]
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