Common
Force-claiming is allowed here once a week per character, as is blocking force-claims by the Peak/Lagoon (as a whole) once a week. Rollover is on Sundays.
Posted on October 7, 2017 at 07:42:20 AM by keira
[OOC] forgive the crappiness...it's been a bit since i did this (^_-)
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the great war had arrived. and as the titans stood readied to clash on the field, fang to hoof, like a spider she had taken to web; drawing into the shadows behind the scenes to let fly her trails of silk. each was meant to draw another soul to her, pawn to queen; a string to tug to make the puppets dance just as required. and how many hours had she devoted to the task....whittled away, observing, biding, tracing the cracks in others' facades? it was tedious business, to be sure, and thankless on the best of days. but it was a necessary evil she told herself, convinced that one day it would be of use. and she was not wrong. lecter was slipping. of course she had blinded herself in the beginning, choosing to tie the blindfold about her temples rather than acknowledge the soft drip....drip....drip from the ice about his heart. so barely there she might have pretended not to hear; but the change had begun, and it was hard to continue to ignore. for the first time ever, she was worried that he might stand to lose this fight. the war to end all wars. she realized soon after, that envy was a stone now needing to be overturned. his beloved daughter, the blood bay child had forever worn a lightness about her brow, a tendency toward softheartedness that few upon the isle could muster. for the deepset love she still held towards her father- despite his swift uprising in the mafia- she beseeched envy for her aid- perhaps less out of faith in her abilities to sway enchant's mind and more from the place a lover finds herself when borne of desperation. it mattered not to the woman...only the results that might yet be achieved. and when their clandestine meeting was finished, her footsteps turned, not back to lecter's army- impatient upon the fields of war- but on a path to lead behind enemy lines. for she was nothing if not thorough, and the painted woman was not about to set the weight of her world upon any daughter of faux pas. no, she knew how impetuous the self-proclaimed 'fire king' could be, and if past history were truer still, she imagined his strategists- so caught up in writing a history, a history where the self-proclaimed oppressed rose up in anarchy- would think very little of the little ones left untended at home. certainly the foals of the next generation, such young and precious fruit, were too delicate for the horrors of battle, and far too weak to tip the scales of victory. she, on the other hand, though still young herself, was learning quite studiously through watching the underhanded dallyings of rute and lecter. and she was not afraid to sully her own hands. she would pick the fruit while none were the wiser, and use the hostages for aggressive negotiations to win this war, if the situation required. what she hadn't expected, however, was how her notoriety had garnered some watching of its own. kudos to the fire king... cleverly, they came upon her when she was weakest; belly-deep in chill spring run-off and stepping gingerly across the expanse of a small, but swiftly-currented mountain stream. Six of them in all, split three-for-three on either bank- half behind and half ahead- they loped brazenly in on padded paws and grinning jowls, finding the gurgle of water more than effective at covering the sound of a strategic approach. tensing awkwardly in a surprised start as the group appeared, she was forced to turn her head to keep all of them in sight- finding herself growing less confident that the youngest members of the group would not simply dive into the water to continue the chase. she stood her ground momentarily, calculating the risk of attempting a red-rover and knowing there was little wisdom in the maneuver- and even smaller chance of success. enchant's wolves- and they must be soldiers of the fire-king, save too great a coincidence- were confident in the high ground they held and the captive that had no other choice but be taken. however, the consequences were too dire, and this she understood far too well. suddenly finding herself in a state of collateral damage when just moments ago her best-laid plans put her at a pivotal point to end this foolish war- the woman wondered briefly if lecter might kill her for a failure so great. he certainly had the power to do so now, and enough thugs to keep his hands clean should it displease him to execute the deed himself. no, she had risked this covert mission with the knowledge that failure had never been a viable option. if she could not escape this entrapment on her own, then she would be forced to pop the cyanide pill and ensure that she at least didn't fail to end her own life. hesitating only momentarily to check the path of the current, she was not mistaken to find that the incessantly tugging waters were indeed picking up speed to cast themselves over the edge of a precipice nearby. cliche it may have been- though in times of desperation, beggars most certainly can't be choosers (and the woman was far from being picky at this stage of the game); she found a sudden resolve that quelled any nerves cropping up at the epiphany she was forming in terms of escape. nodding one last time, as if in affirmation, the mare suddenly threw her neck to the side, swinging her chest in an effective half-rear- allowing the tides to help shove her weight toward the edge of her swiftly-shrinking world. briefly she heard two splashes and knew without doubt that at least two tails were now continuing the deadly chase that had begun. she wasn't particularly concerned, however, as the icy water splashing over her head seemed to suck both her breath and thoughts out of the way of distraction. she only hoped, as she struggled violently toward a means to an end, that the waterfall would be high enough to take care of their nuisance, once and for all, without offing her too. she lunged through the water, front hooves scrabbling for purchase against the gritty riverbed while her hind legs pushed at everything with a vengeance. one lunge....two....nearly there... and then she was falling... falling... marveling at how the delicate mists, as she hurtled through their depths, turned to rain across her slick fur. it was rather disorienting to fall this way, end-over-end...side-over side...but falling she was, and it seemed to go on like this forever. until... does he even know that i was trying to save him, or did he simply believe i betrayed him in the end? |
Replies:
- existence is p a i n [ c l a i m ] - By mr. meeseeks October 11, 2017 at 02:46:30 PM
- the winds pandemona... - By keira October 14, 2017 at 06:54:34 AM
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