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 Posted: Fri Mar 01, 2013 2:11 pm
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Multiplying Monsters
RP with Anju, Taraxippus & Megaera
  
A dark shadow flitted through the mazelike thorny trees, six red eyes peering out of the darker shadows and lingering over the growing number of soquili that now called this territory their home. Once upon a time, Anju had come here and claimed this place as his own. It was his home base, near that teepee, and a couple of gullible or meek soquili like Nodin or the little usdia that Sabin had shared with the shaman up the mountain. Now, there was a herd's worth of soquili that were always here. While many came and went, there were always others here.
"You have been busy, Taraxippus." He spoke to the darkness, knowing that his eldest son would be close.
"I have, father." The brazen voice came before the dark unicorn emerged through the tangled trees by his father's side. He loved this territory - the tangled, thorn trees that he could easily slip between. While he did not have the physical power that many other soquili did, or fire or wings, he knew his strengths and made certain that he was always in control. The only times he felt anxious it seemed was in his father's presence. The progenitor shadow made him feel uncomfortable - made him feel like he was being judged. It shouldn't matter what he thought - he was hardly ever there, anymore. It was the one attachment that honestly meant something to him.
"Every time I come home, it seems there are more that have joined this herd." Anju continued. The brutish horned kalona that Arcana had left before she ran away had foaled, and a new mare had taken up residence near here. His own latest batch of monsters of his own creation had grown now and turned into wicked creatures all their own. The mad Legion and the death-obsessed Barghest both were worthy sons. But Taraxippus, his first, well, it was the closest Anju ever would come to finding a peer... one he trusted. But this was feeling less and less like his domain. His home. "Why, Taraxippus? You cannot turn without finding another soquili that you have brought into this nest. What is your plan?"
Taraxippus looked quickly to his father, eyes narrowing, "Plan? Father, I..." He stopped. While his father did not calculate, did not look to the future and see the big picture like he, he was far from stupid. Quickly, he turned the words around. "Our true strength is in this herd. We have brought the strongest... the fiercest... the true monsters of this world. Already other soquili, even two-legs spread tales of us - of the things in these woods that bite and devour. They shield their foals from our dark woods and the stories spread. Is that not what you want, father? To spread fear?"
Anju's eyes narrowed and he snapped in Taraxippus's direction. "Do not patronize me, colt. I know when you are playing to what I want to hear. Why this macabe collection? Why do you crave so much companionship?" he spit with a look of distaste. "Connections. These feelings are weaknesses. I do not even know the names of many of the horses that have taken up home here, let alone trust them. Be wary of those you invite into our home. Make certain that you have the control over them that you say. And do not let them grow restless. You are building some army, Taraxippus? For what purpose? What war is there to wage? What enemies do you have?" his tail flicked behind him irritably. "I do not see why you are so focused on more... more. You do not see the reach your fear has. You do not see the look of terror in the eyes of your prey. You stay here and you talk."
"I know what I'm doing." Taraxippus rebuked. "Go back to your projects and your shadows and your fear if you cannot share this excitement, father. But we are building something great. And every season our numbers swell. With the strength of our herd, more rumors will spread, and none would think of taking this territory. And the more soquili here - the more monsters at my command. Look at the diversity, the strength here. Some more wolves than horse - some with wings or horns of command of fire, or even the corrupted blood of angels, all off them, father, all of them look to me... to us." He added quickly. "And the network here, they know their places." Taraxippus spoke with utter confidence.
Anju nodded, though his eyes did not stop moving, strafing over the herdgrounds. "I am off again. But trust me. It would do you well to leave these woods from time to time - even if it is to look for more recruits." he added begrudgingly. "Learn your own power and how to spread terror alone - not with the aid of your ... subjects." he snorted before stepping between the trees and disappearing once more.
Taraxipppus remained behind, but let Anju's words tumble through his mind. He had control. There was a purpose to this beyond just the control of the collection of monsters. Even if he did not have a direction for his little 'army'. They were the subjects of tales and ghost stories. And with each new addition to the herd - that Taraxippus personally reinforced his command to - added to HIS strength.
He turned to walk through the twisted herdgrounds to survey his little collection when Megaera, one of the oldest members of the herd, and arguably the most loyal to Taraxippus approached him. She never knew her own strength, and relied on him to make sense for things for her. He was one of his biggest assets and he never turned his shoulder to it.
"What is it, daughter?" He asked in a friendly tone, trying to put Anju's heckling to the back of his mind and forced a smile.
"Tara... you 'member that stallion you said I Should speak with... to held the herd, Sheol?"
"Of course, Megaera." Taraxipppus responded smoothly, though he continued to be partially in his own mind.
"Well, uh, I think it worked. I was worried - after that flutter... but you know Psyche... I wouldn't give up Psyche..." She rambled. She had been so in her head and things were just all kinds of confused now. "I feel hungry... sick... weird." She splurted.
She had his attention now. "You are with foal?" His eyes widened and a smile came to his face. Megaera was the most loyal member of the herd, and a foal of hers could only help to that. Even Psyche, who came when Megaera did not think she wanted foals, was a solid member of the herd, and like an improved version of his "sister", Arcana. "That is fantastic news, Megera." Deliberately, Taraxippus nuzzled her neck briefly. He almost never made physical contact, reserving it for significant moments like this one, reinforcing her trust.
"I... good... Good, yes." Megaera spluttered, finding a smile. Seeing Taraxippus happy, knowing she and her foals would be taken care of, it made her feel much more at ease. "They will be strong... like their father. They'll make you proud." She looked to Taraxippus hopefully.
"I am certain that you are right. Sheol is a powerful stallion, and I look forward to seeing the foals that you bring to life and into this herd. |
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Posted: Fri Mar 01, 2013 2:11 pm
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Spring is Coming
RP with Balrog, Stormwild & Kumiho
  
Balrog angled his massive wings as he brought his flight around in a wide arc, looking once more with a nostalgic fondness at the lush herdgrounds that ages ago he and Stormwild had laid claim to as their own. How their herd had grown from just the pair of them and their two daughters. The transition that fissured the winged from the nonwinged and how he and other members of their herd had groomed new members and tightly patrolled their borders and reinforced the trecherous mountain pass to make it even more difficult for unwanted visitors.
He was hardly a spring stallion any more... but he never doubted his strength. If anything, age had tempered the hot-headed stallion, and carved him out to be a powerful leader and a stoic protector.
He was proud of the herd they had built, and the spirits had smiled upon them. He couldn't ask for a more perfect, safer foaling grounds - the high altitutude meadow shielding them from most predators, but also providing them with the freshest water that came from the peaks themselves, and lush grass that grew unhindered from cloying forests or destructive feeding of boars, deer, and other larger herbivores besides themselves. Of course... things had not always gone untested, and Balrog still harbored regrets - from seeking companionship in the form of the roaming alicorn, and the son that had betrayed him... but every great leader had to be tested.
With a final look of approval over the lands, Balrog nodded to himself, drawing his attention from within back to the land below and calling down a whinny at Thunderbird, signaling that it was time for him to take to the skies and patrol before he came to a soft landing besides his lifemate, Stormwild.
He greeted her with a pleased whicker and a swish of his long tail that had gone untouched by the knives of two-legs and now trailed behind him in a proud train. She had been so quiet lately, it seemed. Did the attack of the stallion that they had both once called Son still trouble her? Was she thinking about the new arrivals to their herd? Was she merely enjoying the first touches of spring and the warming sun? Or, perhaps there was something else?
"What is on your mind, my love?" He spoke, his voice rumbling deeply.
Stormwild was standing at the edge of an overlook, giving her a great vantage of her herdlands. The rustle of the winds swept through her mane and she closed her eyes as she felt the sensations of her long hair and feathers tickle over the rest of her skin. She felt the breeze slip through the long feathers of her wings-one of her favorite feelings in the world. The wind carried just a touch of chill - the last remnants of winter rolling down from the snowy mountain caps - though the sun of spring shone down on her face, warming it.
Her eyes opened as Balrog landed beside her, her mouth turning up in a small smile as he spoke. She leaned over to nuzzle his face gently as he came close, her tail swaying slightly in anticipation. "Spring is coming," she said to him, nodding off over the cliff. The greens of the grass were especially bright, and all the non-evergreen trees who had spend the winter months barren were beginning to spot with new leaves and buds.
Balrog rumbled an ascent. "Our herd has survived another winter." He answered proudly. Despite their numbers, the herdgrounds they had claimed had supported them. All possessed wings and could take to the skies if one member found a spot that bore food in the lean times.
"Our borders have held, and now, we can enjoy the bounty of spring." He returned her nuzzle, gazing over her midnight fur and beautiful contrasting mane.
 The rustle of leaves was easy to disguise as the wind washed through the lands. The small, silver fox slipped further and further into the mountains, keeping her large ears open for potential victims. She was going through her usual rounds: constantly moving and traveling: picking up rumors and intelligence from as many Soquilil as she could. She loved being the little unnoticed fox in the bushes - a fly on the wall in a matter of speaking, unknowingly polishing her arsenal of damaging secrets or blackmail fodder.
Kumiho was not your typical skinwalker. She worked with a malice grace that was unmatched by anyone. She wasn't satisfied by a simple kill - no, the beautiful kitsune reveled in torturing her victims. And not just in body;, her form was slight and fragile compared to many of her ilk. She liked long, slow festering wounds of the heart and mind.
She especially loved to 'check in' on her earlier prey - once was never enough for the vicious beast. She didn't want to be a healed scar over someone's heart: she wanted to be the salt in a constantly reopening wound.
She had been following Stormwild for days now. The grass-eating old mare didn't take much notice or care for a small fox slinking about her lands. She was no threat: no mighty wolf or coyote to chase off. She remained undetected and out of sight...waiting.
The mare chuckled as Balrog spoke, finding his wounds delightfully appropriate. "Somehow, we managed to find ways to stay warm," she said coyly, slightly nudging her mate's shoulder. But speaking of bounties," she started, her voice sounding more serious, "I think the Spirits have plans for us this spring," she said, catching his eye. "As I can feel them working within me now."
Balrog's words fell silent as he processed the information Stormwild had just given him. He blinked, and the proud stallion that rarely missed a beat and was almost always in command of his situation went silent as he looked her over, eyes moving to her stomach. "You.... are with foal?" He finally asked, his thunderous voice barely a whisper. It was almost as if he were afraid to hope. He had been worried that after.... after the last time that perhaps Stormwild would not even be able to bear foals again. She had been so badly hurt, and the baskets... the poor baskets. It was a miracle that the spirits had saved one of them.
Then, his wings flared and one lay over her back protectively. "My love... this news... it is fantastic!" He elated. "Children! OUR children! Is it true?!"
Stormwild couldn't help but laugh in elation at Balrog's reaction. There wasn't much in the world that could elicit such a reaction from him. She tossed her long mane and leaning into his touch. "It's true," she said with a happy smile, "As far as a mare can tell. They are young... its just a feeling I have. I just know... but I am confident in it as I am about anything." She her smile fade, just slightly. "You don't think I am too old for this, do you?"
Balrog let loose a booming laugh. "Too old? My love you are stronger now than you have ever been. You take the breath from any - stallion or mare - that lays eyes upon you for the first time... or second... or even countless times. You steal the air from my lungs every time I see you, Stormwild."
Balrog knew a mother's connection to her unborn children was a sacred one - and he trusted her words, even though he could not perceive any change in his mate. And yet, there was a warmth to her, a happiness and she, too, seemed to be brimming with a life not unlike their herdgrounds in the coming spring. "This is a good sign, Stormwild. This will be a bounteous year for us, and ... perhaps even a new begining as our herd grows, and OUR family grows with it. The spirits smile upon us again."
The mare felt a blush sting the pink of her ears as Balrog spoke: she knew what he said was true and Balrog was not the type of stallion to flatter or sugar his words. She leaned even heavily into him, running her muzzle happily over the thick black coat on his neck and letting herself get tangled in his long, beautiful fiery red mane. "We are blessed indeed," she said with a determined nod of her head. "I have a good feeling about this as well. And we have our family here to make sure - to make sure everything happens as it should," she said, her eyes darkening ever so slightly as she remembered the tragedy of her last pregnancy.
"You will stay on the herdgrounds this time." It wasn't a request. He wasn't about to risk their foals again. "If there is a problem, someone else will see to it." He continued firmly.
"After all, you should take it easy. There is no reason with the arrival of spring and all of us here to see to your needs that you should leave the foaling grounds."
Kumiho was nearly shaking with unbridled glee at overhearing the conversation. The spirits - Kalona himself perhaps - could not have blessed her with better timing. She had been wanting to spread her influence again - to use Cerberus to create more perfect wickedlings like had done before. But motherhood was strange and unnatural for skinwalkers... it didn't come easy to her to make such a decision.
But this... this was gift she could not pass up. She would become pregnant again - and just like last time use this powerful mare's baskets and children to help nurse her foals. She would have to work fast - to make the timing work. But it would be perfect - she would wrench the wind mares baskets away from her... kill the developing foals inside and place her own perfect progeny in them with plenty of fresh meat to grow and develop on.
She choaked back a foxy hiss of delight as her tails swayed behind her like a mass of unruly snakes. She had things to do! She slipped quietly into the woods and quickly made her way back to were she had left Cerberus. She must set things into motions without a moment to loose...
"I'm not going anywhere," she said with a hint of exasperation as she wasn't being asked she was being told. "And no more being unprepared. I will be prepared for anything that comes my way this time."
She puffed her chest a bit and held her head up. "After all, I'm strong even when heavy with foals...but even stronger with my family here with me" she admitted, happily surveying the herdlands. "Congratulations, Balrog," she said after a moment. "You get to be a great father once again."
Swelling with pride, Balrog chewed at some of the hair behind Stormwild's ear. "I am glad to hear of this, Storm." He barely contained his enthusiasm. It would be perfect this time. He would see to it.
"If there is anything you need, please, do not hesitate to ask. Make sure that you have chosen a foaling ground before you become too heavy to fly." He added playfully, already the wheels in his head turning at what he needed to do, and the new life that they would bring into the world.
"I shall tell the others!" He finally boased without segue, his mind racing. He barely heeded the rustling in the bushes as he took to wing and called out to his twin daughters Cataclysm and Maelstrom and his unusual son, Thunderbird, to tell them the news.
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Posted: Fri Mar 01, 2013 2:11 pm
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Posted: Fri Mar 01, 2013 2:11 pm
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Posted: Fri Mar 01, 2013 2:11 pm
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Posted: Fri Mar 01, 2013 2:11 pm
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Posted: Fri Mar 01, 2013 2:12 pm
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Posted: Fri Mar 01, 2013 2:12 pm
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Posted: Fri Mar 01, 2013 2:12 pm
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Posted: Fri Mar 01, 2013 2:12 pm
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Posted: Fri Mar 08, 2013 8:45 pm
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Clover Fields and Finding HomeRP with Ethan 
If the journey Westward had seemed long, then traveling back along familiar ground that he had already traversed seemed twice as long.
There was none of the jovial conversation with Cricket, no excited promises of what the next mile might bring them, no new wonders to see with new eyes. Just... memories. Each mile brought back memories of his trip to find his father with Cricket. Of the foolhearty trip he had taken to find something that he had invested so much meaning into that was... hollow. He had lived his entire life without knowing his sire. His mother had raised him, taught him to be a good stallion, told him stories of her homeland and the way the world worked. And he had turned his back on that. Off on some stupid quest to hope to find himself when he knew now that he wasn't in his father. And the more he looked for him, the more he let the dark blood of his father worm its way into him. He had known jealousy, anger, fear, and lashed out violently against his own brother.
He had found himself in the journey all right. And not all of it was good. He didn't vindicate this absent father - he was likely every bit the demon that other soquili implied when they saw Ethan's horns and fangs. And that realization was what he needed to make the decision that regardless of how close he came to finding him - maybe those horrid woods had been his very territory - Ethan made the decision that he didn't need to know him to know himself. He didn't need Dyson to tell him who he was. He couldn't know that any more than Ethan could tell Fianna who she was. How he came to be wasn't who he was. His life was. And Dyson never had been a part of that.
He didn't regret going on this journey. He couldn't have stayed by his mother's side for all his life, sheltered form the world. He had met a lot of fear and anger from other soquili along his journey, but he had also met some truly wonderful ones as well... Although there were aspects of this journey he certianly regretted. He had caused hurt in others... those that he cared about... Cricket... HUNTER.
And he had left foals behind. Daughters. He had done wrong by them and by Hunter. And even if Fianna didn't stay long enough for him to make it right with her, he had to hope he'd have the opportunity to do so in the future. But for now, he could find Hunter. Try to make it right.
So he walked, remembering with each hoofbeat the journey he had taken, the steps that had shaped him more than his father ever had.
And while this trip was much harder than the optimistic journey Westward, this time, he had more direction than every before; a sense of duty and purpose, and a clearer understanding of his place in the world.
Days stretched to weeks, and finally, finally, after it felt like he had gone three times as far as he had come, he saw the same, unmistakable sparkling lake... and he could smell the same particular scent of flowers and trees on the air.
He was here.
Ethan took in a lungfull of the fresh spring air. The snows were melting and the green of fresh growth was starting to surface again. The melting snows brought bouquets of flowers and sweet pollen, the puff of dandilions and fragrant cedar. But the scent that stood out to the stallion the most was the fresh clover. Even the hints of the smell were enough to call back memories of his foalhood in the coastal meadows with his mum. She had picked his foaling grounds, she told him, by the thick patches of clover that grew wild in the meadows of this land. She was raised in it, cut her teeth on it when she was just a filly, and when she had seen the clover growing wild in this new land, she knew it was where she was going to raise her son.
It was appropriate - almost too much. When he had started the trip back, following back along his hoofsteps that he had laid down when he had first traversed this land, he had intended on the return trip being simply an apology. But the further he traveled, the more conficlting thoughts rattled through his head. How his meeting with his daughter, Fianna... had gone. How he had done just what his own absent father had done. He had spent most of his adult life searching for the mysterious stallion. Thinking that by finding him he would find some great missing piece of the Ethan puzzle. How could he have done that to Hunter.... no... to his daughters. He was looking for his place, but he knew now he'd never find that out there in the world. As the snows melted and he grew closer and closer to where he had met Hunter, and the clover began to blossom and cover the gentle hills, he thought of his mother... family... and how much that meant. And... what it was that he needed to do. What the land itself seemed to be telling him. His mum always told him that when he wasn't sure, to open his eyes and ears - to listen to what the sprits said...
Hunter was a magnificent mare. She had enraptured him. Her love of life and exuberance... the life in her eyes and the way she could literally fly - dancing on air. A part of him was scared to stay because how could such an angel ever really see him as being good enough? But... truth be told, most of it was his obsessive drive to find his father that had blinded him to nearly everything else. And his thoughtlessness for how his actions affected those around him. Cricket, leading her by the nose across barren wasteland and dense forests, putting her in danger... she deserved better than him.... and Hunter... who he had left with foals.. foals he had never been around to see grow up... to be a father... He had left behind what it was he had REALLY wanted all along: a family.
And as he had crested into view in hunter's herdground, he nearly passed by a massive willow tree, and he paused. Smiling nostalgically, he tucked away the apology he had been working on in his head for the past... who knew how many miles... and pulled down a few branches and settled down to wrap the supple wood with his teeth into a Bythol - one of the Celtic symbols his mum had taught him about - representing an unbreaking bond between twopeople: mind, heart and body.
He knew where he belonged. His heart told him... the clover told him... it was showing him a new home... a new family.
*
*
*
His reunion with Hunter had brought back every bit of the magic that he still dreampt of from the night he met her. He never thought he'd be lucky enough for her to still feel the same way about him. To not be so furious with him that she never wanted to see him again. She was glad he had come back... and had accepted his promise.
And seeing two other fillies - fully grown.... it was odd. Bronwyn and Deirdre. And Deirdre would barely give him the time of day... he could see the resentment, the hurt in her eyes. And he knew how she felt.
But maybe with time....
And when Ethan's "reunion" with Hunter quickly led to her having swollen sides... Ethan felt a rush of fear... but also this time.. a level of excitement. He'd be there for these children... and in the process, try his damndest to fix his relationship with Deirdre and Bronwyn. Maybe some day he'd even see Fianna again - his daughter that had brought him to find this family. This land was beautiful... and he was sure his mum would love it... maybe he could even go fetch her and show her the family he had started... his beautiful mate... |
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Posted: Wed Jun 19, 2013 8:33 am
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Posted: Wed Jun 19, 2013 5:24 pm
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Posted: Thu Jun 20, 2013 1:41 pm
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Posted: Thu Jun 20, 2013 3:47 pm
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