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So Long Gay Bowser rolled 1 20-sided dice:
20
Total: 20 (1-20)
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 Posted: Sat May 30, 2015 3:49 pm
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She couldn't wake up. Each time Roses fought her way through the dream, past flame and quicksand and all the things she feared, she snapped awake, but worse. It was always worse, each time she woke. This time she startled awake, chest heaving, and she found herself completely submerged in water. Rose gasped, and immediately regretted it. With all of her strength, she swam upwards, desperate to elude the pull of the murky depths. It was just... so hard. She was frail, and soft...
Would she get out of this? Would she ever wake up? She had her family, and her friends... but it would be so very easy to let the water take her. Her kicking ceased, and for a moment, Roses in Bloom wondered.
Would it just be easier if she didn't try? |
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Posted: Sat May 30, 2015 4:04 pm
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Sand under her eyelids, around the corners. Red rims, crusted lashes. Lashing restless, slumber slipping- what kind of nightmare was it when you couldn't sleep? Limbs dragging, forced to walk- but by something inside. She knew she could stop at any time, but was too stubborn. Too prideful? To afraid. Where was she going? Why couldn't she rest? What was she fleeing? Something there, just over her shoulder- then behind her, then beside her. Surrounding her, soothing, singing- why didn't she stop? Why couldn't she stop? Why shouldn't she stop. The voice was familiar, lulling her to sleep- but for some reason, she couldn't.
She awoke asking why- what was so worth it about running? |
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Scaramouche Fandango rolled 1 20-sided dice:
10
Total: 10 (1-20)
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Posted: Sat May 30, 2015 4:37 pm
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She always left in the night. Never a goodbye, never a warm embrace- Rose simply woke up to unrelenting loneliness. The night was a dreadful, treacherous thing. The night made you trust it, made you long for the closing of your eyes. You went to sleep, and then...
And then Root was gone. Root was always gone. The little ones asked where she was, and Rose did not know. Rose never knew. She'll be back tonight, she said, worry evident in her own words. The children may have believed her if she had bothered to believe herself. Sometimes Walking Root was back when the sun set. Sometimes she wasn't.
Walking Root was not back. Their children had gone, and Root was gone, and Rose was alone in the dark. The sun sank into the swamp, and Rose's heart followed its course. It was so easy to lie before... that Root left with the night and returned with it.
This time, it left her alone. Always alone.
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So Long Gay Bowser rolled 1 20-sided dice:
14
Total: 14 (1-20)
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Posted: Sat May 30, 2015 4:39 pm
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Rose is burning. It is not an actual fire- she does not know that she has seen one in the swamp- but the docile doe is aflame. Her heart beats with a righteous fury she did not know herself capable of. And oh, it has been so long.
Root had been a steady, constant flame. Sometimes it flared, but it was a constant she knew. This flame, Rose does not understand. It is wildfire, catching everything so quickly she cannot keep up. Her chest constricts, and yet her blood sings. It is just as terrifying as it is exciting.
The fire licks up her legs, and it is gold and green. This cannot happen again, she knows. Her mind screams at her, a frightened filly, to run while she can. But her heart. Oh, how her heart wants. To be adored, to be praised... to be the one pursued, for once.
She burns, and it is so, so wonderful. |
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Posted: Sat May 30, 2015 5:30 pm
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She was a fire, and she was in pain.
Floating, flying, flickering, furious- roaring, raging, ruining, ravaging- wracking, wrecking, writhing, wailing- she consumed all in her wake and left nothing behind. Death was her dance, despite her disdain; she wanted, she took, she claimed, she kept.
She died an ember, laughing wickedly in her solitude. What does the fire seek?
But after the fire, comes the black and the grey. Soft ashes blanket the earth, the fire's destruction giving way to fertile soils and beautiful spring; renewal. Green shoots. Tender blossoms. Roses blooming. Beauty comes from fire, once the fire's been tamed.
The scent of flowers, bright springs of green. Adornment adoring. Rebirth.
Perhaps it isn't such a bad thing for the fire to die and to be replaced with... what?
Half Truth doesn't know. But it is what the fire seeks.
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Scaramouche Fandango rolled 1 20-sided dice:
1
Total: 1 (1-20)
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Posted: Sat May 30, 2015 5:33 pm
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She watches a sunset and wonders where the time went. Each sunset's been getting more and more beautiful and she feels it in her heart. Eventually, the sunsets will overwhelm her in a slow smothering of orange and red and gold, and then it will be her last sunset. She knows deep down that it is soon- not this sunset, but perhaps the next or the next after. She is ready; what time hasn't gotten away from her has become slower and slower. Each day seems an eternity- but oh, what an eternity. The golds in her coat have dimmed, her sleek greens greyed, her proud horns chipped; she is slower, her vision dimmer. But that hasn't mattered, because time well spent isn't time lost, and as she lays her head on the shoulder next to her- a soft shoulder, a kind shoulder- she feels eternal in this moment, even as the red sun reaches to absorb them both.
She's so lucky she got here in time. |
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Posted: Sun May 31, 2015 8:46 pm
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Rose is a filly, and the world is such a beautiful place. The swamp is alive with song and dance, and Roses in Bloom is in the heart of it. It terrifies her to her core, but she is young, and she has time to learn the words. Her hooves stumble in the reeds as she fumbles through the steps, but there's so much to learn, so much to see, all in t-
She is a mother. Her young have hatched, and oh, they're so lovely. They are silly little things, stumbling through the swamp crying and miserable. Roses in Bloom teaches them as best she can, and watches them grow in time. None of them is purple, but that is okay. Walking Root is there, and smiles at them, and it is a good ti-
Walking Root is gone. Rose is suddenly old, so very old feeling, and she cannot keep up with the steps of the swamp. Perhaps it is exhaustion, perhaps it is loneliness. She cannot say. The swamp does not seem to lift her so much as it pulls her down, wanting to lose her in its depths. It would be so easy to sleep within the muck. It is not as if anything else occupies her tim-
There is another. It is a strange love, a curious one. She did not think herself capable of love again. Yet the doe against her is soft, and warm, and there. Rose is older, but oh, this makes her feel young. And here, soft and pleasant, she feels she is willing to take the time.
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So Long Gay Bowser rolled 1 20-sided dice:
2
Total: 2 (1-20)
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Posted: Wed Jun 03, 2015 11:25 am
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There are roses all around her. Never in her life has Rose been surrounded by so many of her own kind. The aroma wafts over her nostrils, and she sighs contentedly, falling into the petals. Surely, when she rises, she will smell just as equally of her kin. Her eyelids flutter, and the doe is simply content.
The tendrils of vine wrap around her, and in the back of her mind, she knows the thorns dig into her flesh. Her blood drips down the bush and splashes into the soil, where it feeds her kin and seeps back into her roots. It is so freeing, to be amongst the flowers once more.
Flowers do not leave. Flowers do not move. The wilt with the seasons, but always- always- they return in the spring. For now, the seasons are right, and she and her sisters are at their best. There are other beautiful flowers, but the roses- the Roses are in Bloom, and so she finds herself more alive than she has been in years. |
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Posted: Wed Jun 03, 2015 11:35 am
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She was surrounded by thorns and couldn’t take a step one way or the other; she was trapped, unable to flee, to rush away like she always did. Her only escape was to move the brambles bit by bit, going slowly and carefully and taking her time. A time or two she pierced her tongue; blood dripped from her cheeks and she cursed the foolishness that got her into this mess in the first place.
But as she gently moved the branches, they erupted into blossom, tiny delicate petals soothing her; their smell was lovely. She found that as she worked with the plants, not against them, she was able to free herself; still, though, she found herself not wanting to leave. The flowers were so fragrant and calming; surely, the most beautiful roses were roses in bloom.
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Posted: Wed Jun 10, 2015 6:10 pm
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Posted: Wed Jun 10, 2015 8:07 pm
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Half Truth awoke with a jolt, heart hammering. "What the hell was that about?" she groaned, scratching her ear with a back hoof and shaking her head. "And why does my head hurt so much?" Her caiman stared up at her from where she'd been employed as a pillow. Plum pits and the slumbering form of that pretty young Acha named... ... ... something gave her an idea of what had gone on the night before, and furthered the idea that she should collect herself and leave. These weird dreams weren't answering any questions overtly, but maybe they were pointing her at something... something far, far away from one-night stands.
She shuddered, the pit of her stomach feeling like it was falling. What was going on? Where would it end? Why couldn't she get that doe out of her head? It was bad enough thinking about her during the day, but now she had the audacity to invade her dreams! Maybe she should do something about this. Yes. Like... track down Roses in Bloom and be all "I can't sleep because I'm thinking about you-" no wait, that was the wrong message entirely. She heaved a massive sigh, shaking herself, then glancing back at her temporary paramour to make sure she wasn't awake yet. Ugh. This was complicated. She couldn't let it continue... but how to resolve things?
For once, she didn't have an answer.
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