The Lost Islands
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Peak

The Prime Minister

Khar'pern

The Codebreaker

Ashteroth

The General

Marceline

The Companions
None None None

The Thinkers

Naydra
Titan

The Politicians

Ararat
Axelle
Hollis
Mae
Nashira
Serenity

The Warriors

Clarity
Kaeja
Lysimache
Starling

The Trinkets

Beloved
Cato
Cullen
Gόneşlenmek
Isengrim
Jigsaw
Kazimir
Octavius
Starscream
Yıldırım

PRIME MINISTER'S DECREE

"None." - Leader

The Offspring

Diccon (Cicada x Khar'pern)

Rules

• The Vulcan Peak is where homeless mares come to live as a sisterhood. Stallions may not live here except as captives or companions for the Leaders.

• Warriors keep mainly to fighting, Thinkers keep mainly to raiding, and Politicians may do both, neither, or act as diplomats. Members may issue their own battles and raids, but should generally consult the General, Codebreaker or Prime Minister for permission.

• All major decisions are determined by vote, but the Prime Minister maintains order within the Peak and has the final say.

• Elections for leadership positions will be held every TLI summer, provided the qualifying criteria are met.

• You can find detailed information about how the Peak works on the Rules page.
Making love to a m e m o r y
Posted on September 23, 2015 at 08:21:55 PM by Macabre




"If Love himself weep, shall not lovers weep,
learning from what sad cause he pours his tears?
Love hears his ladies crying their distress,
showing forth bitter sorrow through their eyes
because villainous Death has worked its cruel
destructive art upon a gentle heart,
and laid waste all that earth can find to praise
in a gracious lady, save her chastity."


A dull pang behind her eyelids grew stronger with every mounting beat of her heart. It was as if an invisible pressure was gaining on her, becoming thicker to navigate, harder to push through, with ever step she took toward the Peak. Macabre was having a full fledged panic attack. Moisture pimpled the soft skin around her muzzle, and her nostrils stretched wide and low with every shallow breathe. She had spent weeks trying to control this anxiety bubbling beneath the surface, but as she returned to a place she still considered her home, her mind began to unravel.

Despite the long series of unfortunate events in her past, Macabre never saw herself as a victim. It was a matter of circumstance. After the Great Flood and the loss of her tribe and parents, her path had been altered permanently. She was meant to carry the burden of those lost, allowing her kind to live on as memories within the confines her her skull. Her son, Shiraz, too. That burden, she now believed, was her curse. It kept her from creating any kind of real emotional connections with those that passed through her life. She used Dogun and even Midas. She allowed others, like Dexter and now Vaaco, to abuse her. The cycle was endless and she had no power over it. That is, until the Reaper finally caught up with her. Until he decided this torture was over and she could join those whom she loved the most.

She could not fathom what the latest occurrence -- her black out and washing up unconscious on the beach -- meant in the grand scheme of his plans. It made her feel helpless and alone. So despite her escalating fear and anxiety, she returned to the only place on the islands that ever truly made her feel safe. When Jetta spotted her, the worst of her attack was over. Despite the winter weather, her coat was sleek with sweat. It was easily hidden by the dreariness of the day, as mist clung to the matted strands of her mane and whiskers in the form of dew petals. She trembled at her knees, through her topline and down her spine, doing her best to catch her breathe and return her body to a more relaxed state. At first, Macabre didn't recognize the filly, who had grown to be a fit young mare. When she did, her expression melted into something warmer, if only slightly.

"Jetta, hi." She said, a weak smile forming over her lips. Macabre reached out to her shoulder, her muzzle grazing it briefly. It made her feel better to touch her, to know that this moment was real. She had reached a space that was safe, if only temporarily. "My, you've gotten big."





"Hear then how Love paid homeage to this lady;
I saw him weeping there in human form,
observing the stilled image of her grace;
and more than once he raised his eyes toward Heaven,
where that sweet soul already had its home,
which once, on earth, had worn enchanting flesh."

Macabre | 6 | Mare | Mustang X Morgan | 14.2 HH | flaxen chestnut | © Vinyl




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