Llydia was frightened, but she knew that she shouldn't be, or at least, that she couldn't let it show. Her guardian wasn't there for her to lean on for support, or to hide behind, but she was still a priestess of death. That was an important position, a respected position, and she needed to hold her head high, be poised, and like the others all around her, meet this complication, this potential threat head on.
And so she did. One bare foot in front of the other, she moved, her breath held, her eyes wide with the worry she tried so desperately and yet failed to not let show.
She found herself surrounded by white, glaringly bright, there was nothing else...
Except memory.
---
She was making her way towards the temple, her eyes, as so often they were, downcast, skimming over an open notepad, and the words that were scribbled upon the page, while a pencil held in her other hand tapped the edge of the paper. She wasn't paying attention at all to her surroundings, her feet taking a path she had traveled along at least a hundred times before without any need for her to glance up. Mindless. Easy.
Unless, of course, someone happened to be stood in her path.
It just so happened on this occasion, however, that her eyes happened to stray from their studies to an impressively large shadow that was suddenly spread out in front of her on the ground. She blinked, her steps slowing to a halt, and her hands shifted to press both notebook and pencil to her chest, something about that formidable shadow filling her with unease as she raised her gaze up, and up, until they stopped.
"Oh." She breathed out, hands clutching her notebook tighter, the coils of unease melting away inside of her as her eyes met something more beautiful than they'd ever landed on before.
Someone, actually. Someone who was grinning down at her as she continued to stare, with a hint of puzzlement in his gaze, like he couldn't understand why anybody would stop to stare at him.
It was his eyes that she remembered most, however. That was the strongest part of this memory. Those eyes that were crinkled at their edges, bright, joy filled, not the stern and cold look so many of the death clan adopted. That was what had drew her in the most. Those eyes were unforgettable. This was a memory that was easy to for her to relive.
+5 damge
Posted: Sun Jun 11, 2017 10:39 pm
While the red crystal was captivating, Ilker's eyes couldn't help but gravitate toward the creature pouring from underneath it. Suddenly, everything seemed both near and far, and Ilker couldn't hold the gaze of whatever 50 pronged creature was infront of him. It was then that he realized that there was nothing but a pure, infinite white around him. He recoiled, looking around with guarded eyes, hands curling into his large, purple rimmed jacket as he looked around with a certain feeling of stress and confusion. It was then that he realized he did not know where he was.
His frustration only grew from that point on. Ilker clenched his teeth and looked back toward the creature, teeth bared, eyes violent. "What are you?" He seethed, expression haunted. It seemed like it wished to steal something from him, but all Ilker could remember was the red rose from his time in the woods, attempting to find the cooler he'd been handed over from his time in the forest delivering packages.
Ilker bit back a curse at the monster. He wished to be left alone, to be left without any form of reminder of his time in the forest, but for some reason, it was ingrained in his brain, the very memory of running through the forest with hooded eyes and the desire to destroy."Leave me alone." He stated darkly, eyes flashing with a violent sneer as he pulled out a couple weapons in attempt to get ready for a quick kill.
It was only after such that he realized he was definitely not getting back home that night.
+5 damage!
Character's name: Ilker Raja Character's clan: Death Character's journal link:boop! Character's arcana: Empress BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER Ilker is a 6'3 man with dark skin peppered with vitiligo on his face, chest, shoulders, and knees. Wearing a dark, dull hood laden with intricate jewels and only slight purple accents, the long, black haired man is commonly seen with a scythe bladed glaive in his hand and a stoic, neutral expression on his face. He has thick black hair reaching to his hip, pulled back into a half braid left cascading over his shoulder. He wears snakebites and eyebrow piercings, and has a weird fondness for water.
Cors heart sank as the crystal shattered into so many pieces, there was no hope of ever putting it back together again. The waiting was the worst part honestly, even if the confirmation had been the most dangerous part. The not knowing what sort of threat loomed... it ate at him. It made everything that much harder.
When the figure came into view, he didn't even think. There was no hesitation as he charged in to take on the threat with all he had. But this was not a threat that would just go away with blades and sheer tenacity, no, everything around him fading to white.
His thoughts... his thoughts were all he had left, his memories, he sought one and in this moment it stuck out the most. He smiled against his will at the memory.
Noah seemed so tired but excited at the same time as he held the basket out for Cor to take hold of the handle. Inside was a squirming little creature. Brand new to life and its experiences.
It cooed at Cor, or at least the best equivalent to a coo a grub could make. Cor looked at Noah, half in shock, the other half instantly awash in various emotions. Noah nodded a wordless confirmation. This was theirs.
They stood together with the basket, making little noises at the creature as it made little noises right back. After a while, Noah finally spoke.
"She is famine like me," Noah confirmed. He knew how much Cor had wanted a War Clansmen like himself. He hoped it would not be too disappointing.
"Of course she is," Cor scolded back playfully while reaching an arm around Noah to hug him close to his side. "I'm pretty sure War Horsemen don't start out looking like larva."
There was much warmth and love, relief, and acceptance. Cor loved and cherished this memory with all his heart. Dio may not have been exactly what he asked for, but she was exactly what they needed.
+ 5 DMG
OOC
Character's name: Corvarius Character's clan: War Character's journal link:Journal Character's arcana Hanged Man BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER Cor is tall, fit, and slightly tan with long black wavy hair. He sometimes pulls his hair back for a more sleek appearance.
Posted: Mon Jun 12, 2017 8:01 am
Yuki could at first only stare once the loud crack had him quickly looking up to the crystal, standing frozen in the street and feeling dread settling in the pit of his stomach. They'd lost their islands. Were they about to lose this home, too?
He didn't know what to do, but standing around doing nothing wasn't helping at all. The famine horseman moved forward, contemplating his manner of attack as he watched others rush into battle with the strange, colorless apparition that seemed to ooze from the crystal itself.
One moment he was trying just to balance, keep his head together and move forward through the vertigo... The next he was surrounded by white that burned his eye and disoriented him even further. He stumbled, hitting his knees and just catching himself with his hands before he collapsed entirely.
He felt frightened. He felt sick. He was on the verge of panic and he mentally grasped for something - anything - to draw him out of despair.
-------
It was as though he were staring out at two skies.
The field he'd found purely by accident had Yuki gaping, gaze taking in a wide open space under clear blue sky. The expanse of tiny, blue posies looked like a sky below the trees to match the one above. Green forests had been one of his favorite things in the Human World, for as long as he'd been able to remember. Spending the majority of his life in what could only be the complete opposite of the surroundings he admired now, it felt like it helped to have a much better appreciation for these escapes.
Whether or not it was odd of him, he didn't know nor care. There were rarely humans where he wandered, and it left him to peacefully sift through his thoughts.
Before he moved on, he took a few of the forget-me-not flowers with him.
OOC
Name: Yuki (Journal) Arcana: Strength Clan: Famine Appearance: Take this guy, make him very thin (not quite emaciated) and grumpy. Jagged facial wound from just above left brow to the curve of the lower mandible. Wound is old/decayed and open to reveal bone, teeth and an empty eye socket.
Mina and Bix stood back to back, ready for whatever the fight brought them. They were War. They were Strength. They were here to fight and win with no other option. But then it was whiteness and nothing at all to battle, nothing normal. Nothing that they could see.
He felt trapped in the whiteness, not like pale he enjoyed, but an all-encompassing whiteness. Blankness. Erasing everything including his sense of self.
He could only find solace in his mind, his memories, in the life he’d lived and brought him joy.
Like white ghosts on the field, together, they mowed through their enemies and collected their very first trophies. They were tools of war. Brother and sister. Together.
Skulls and bones, trinkets of victory. Long before they were veterans or leaders. They had simply been soldiers in a never ending battle. There was no room for failure. Only victory.
Bix breathed as the encompassing whiteness seemed to ebb, as he seemed to be released with the memory of his victory, of his kill. He glanced at his sister, also seeming to survive and take a breath that she hadn’t known she was holding.
“Okay?” His hand reached for hers to tangle and squeezed.
“Yeah..dirty tactics. Dirty battle..” The pale woman’s wings flared and settled but she squeezed his hand back in hers.
She hissed in distress but they were whole and together and that was what mattered. They both summoned their weapons anew ready for whatever else this may have for them.
+ 5 DMG
Posted: Mon Jun 12, 2017 11:03 am
The crack of the red crystal caught him with a start, and he felt his heart stop.
The beating returned for him to notice that the crack was spreading.
It spread. It leaked. A figure of sorts stood in front of him. He was ready. He was War. Yildirim charged towards the boss, only to find him sucked into an environment of nothing but white. It was all he could see, around him, above him, below him.
He would slash out at nothing, but that would not get him out of there. No, this wanted something else. Something different.
Yildirim closed his eyes, attempting to summon a memory, any memory, that would add some colour to his environment and free him from his prison. The images danced around in his mind and formed into something, something he began to recognize with a smile on his face.
Home.
Yildirim had been so happy when he was finally able to stake out his own place in The Tower, in the Dusk, in the beautiful floors of War. It looked like it was carved into a tree, and it opened into a room with ground like lush green grass that he enjoyed feeling between his toes. Near the front there had been a chair that was draped in purple fabric, and further in there was everything he could possibly need for his own space.
He remembered letting his wings settle at his back, and pushing the doors open for the first time, taking in the home that would be his. He would fill it with colour, with trophies from the human world, perhaps some days with friends.
This wouldn't take that away from him.
+5 dmg
OOC
Character's name: Yildirim Character's clan: War Character's journal link:Journal Character's arcana Chariot BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER Yildirim is a freckled, dark War Clansman with bright blue, speckled wings stretching over the back of his body. He appears to be a young adult. His hair is dark, almost a navy colour, and is kept down to brush his shoulders.
Seiana_ZI
Codebreaking Conversationalist
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Amasis
Everyday Blob
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Posted: Mon Jun 12, 2017 1:45 pm
The crack when the crystal broke was more of a feeling than a sound, reverberating in Aran's chest and preceding the tightness of breath that came with alarm. A blur of motion ahead and to the right and he watched Yildirim--along with many others--charge what came from the site of the crystal's shattering. It was only half a thought, a slice of a moment of contemplation, before Aran darted to join them. He drew his weapon as he ran, not sure what, exactly, he was going to be fighting but knowing that he was going to fight it with every last shred of himself if he had to.
He didn't think terribly much on the shards themselves, besides an idle thought that he wondered if they would cut like glass should he run into them. He also was not prepared for the nausea and the spinning around him that came with the vertigo that hit him as hard as he was hoping to hit that weird shape coming from the broken crystal. Aran stumbled, faltered in his charge for a moment, trying to push through it to his end goal. It was just nausea, he could push through it.
Aran faltered again when the white blossomed out from the target of their unified charge. Instinctively, he threw his hands up in front of his face, though that made no difference at all. The white surrounded him, ate the sound of everyone around him, ate the smells and sight of everyone around him, ate him. There was nothing, absolutely nothing, around him except an endless expanse of white bright enough to hurt his eyes. He hissed something unkind and shielded his eyes, whirling in place to see--in vain--what was around him. Nothing. There was nothing but bright, endless nothing.
There was nothing around him but bright, endless desert. And, of course, the dark mountain range rising in the very far distance. Aran squinted out under the hand that shaded his eyes from the sun overhead. The clouds were absolutely useless, and Aran found himself longing again for the darkess back home. He would have to make any further excursions to the human world at night, honestly. Or, at the very least, not into a desert in the middle of the day. Rain clouds hung in the very far horizon, doing absolutely nothing but taunting Aran. A breeze--if a hot wind full of grit could be called such--whipped up around him. Now also shielding his eyes from the sand, Aran continued walking towards the mountains.
423 words -- +5 damage
Aran's Journal Clan: Conquest Arcana: Wheel of Fortune Description: Aran is tall and lithe, with vivid oceanic blue-green eyes and a pair of moderate-length black horns sweeping back from his head. His auburn hair is bound tightly back on his head in one large plait. His posture is generally attentive and his movements full of youthful energy.
Posted: Mon Jun 12, 2017 2:33 pm
The crack caught her attention mid-errand running for different businesses. Asuna stumbled as it shattered, out of place for the generally sure of foot War Horseman. Something came from the crystal and she readied her weapon to charge.
The horseman paid little mind to the shards around her; the focus was on the creature that had come out of the crystal, that had consumed the crystal. Beat it back, and return the crystal to what it once was. Then the creature did something, she couldn't see what, and everything began to change. The world seemed to drop out suddenly, spinning even though she was vertical and the white exploded around her.
It was bright and nothing for a long time.
Then a flicker.
And another.
And another.
Asuna walked towards it, the white fading into the warm glow of...
Fire. She remembered fire and finding her way with it. Fire was what told her and her people their past, present and futures. It was considered an honor to apprentice to one of these.... fire watcher. That was not the name of them, but she could not remember their true name. Yet everything started, and ended, with the fires.
Pyres, really.
It was home, she knew. Here, by the fire she was safe and whole and home. She could center herself here, be one with the universe here, and plan her next task.
She stared into the flames, longing for a sign of something real. The flames crackled and flickered, but no images appeared.
Asuna stayed like that for a long time, watching the flames flicker until they went out.
+5 damage
OOC
Character's name: Asuna Character's clan: War Character's journal link:[ x ] Character's arcana Wheel of Fortune BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER
a-disgruntled-dragon
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Nuxaz
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Posted: Mon Jun 12, 2017 3:23 pm
When it came to all things combat, Efreet prided himself on his quick response time. This was no different. He had arrived at the scene of the crystal and watched, mesmerized by the way the creature crawled out. Immediately, his hands were on his daggers and he thought he was ready but -
Where did all of this white come from?
Startled, the war horseman tried to get his bearings. He would not be defeated, there was too much to do and to prove! Inhaling sharply, he fought against the impressing haze that came with the whiteness, with how he felt like he was being slowly crushed and consumed by the monster.
Efreet could clearly remember one of his first days in combat, the adrenaline was coursing through his veins and he had his blades in each hand. His heart was pumping, blood pulsing through him and reminding him of how alive he was.
His opponent was rushing towards him and Efreet jumped - grin spreading wide on his mottled face.
His wings were spread, teeth bared in a happy grin, weapons slashing. This was is, this was what he'd worked for as a horseman and he had never felt more present than he did in that exact moment. The man's feet touched the ground, wings still spread and one arm was crossed over the chest that was heaving, other raised into the air ready and blade glistening.
Even if the other memories evaded him, this was one Efreet didn't think was possible to forget. The thrill of the fight had called him and he was content to bask in it until he couldn't any longer.
+5 Damage
W2: 274
Posted: Mon Jun 12, 2017 5:29 pm
Was this it? The end of everything for them and all that they knew?
Fenette had stared at the sky when the red crystal broke, watching as the fragments fell and coalesced into something that descended upon them. Time seemed to slow down and then stop entirely. The dim red colour of the Priestess' surroundings growing brighter and brighter until it became an infinite expanse of white...
Cain.
That was the name of the young Guardian who had been assigned to Fenette from this day on. It was hard to read Cain initially. The Guardian was polite, respectful and dedicated to his duties granted, but he was a stallion of few words, only speaking when necessary or called upon to. That was something that Fenette was unaccustomed to and at the same time unsettling as the Priestess found herself wondering on several occasions if the Guardian was happy working with her or was simply tolerating her actions and antics.
Being with Cain turned out to be a good thing for her however. Fenette learnt to be more assertive and vocal about what she wanted and needed. From a shy tentative filly who was always mindful about what others thought about her and whether she would ever be able to fill the shoes of the Priestess she was supposed to become, she was more confident and focused on her goals and what she needed to do to attain them now.
Even if the world thought any less of her and tried to put her down, Fenette would not be fazed henceforth. So long as she had Cain beside her, all would be well and she was content.
OOC
Character's name: Fenette Character's clan: Death Priestess Character's journal link:Here Character's arcana Hanged Man BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTERDress Side View, Dress Front View, Cloak
baby_gwing
Fanatical Raider
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Toshihiko Two
Sugary Marshmallow
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Posted: Mon Jun 12, 2017 7:41 pm
Days like this were the good days. Lydia chatting casually with a new business partner, him going over the accounts. The fact of the matter was that it was more than being a guardian, than hovering in a doorway while the priestesses went about their business, and did their rituals and chants. It was more than being good with buying the right incenses in the marketplace, or being quick to his sword. And Lydia...Lydia was more than all that. The two of them had a different place. A different purpose.
Their temple had a desk.
Here, serving her was easy. There were different ways to wage a War than to do the work of soldiers. There were Wars of public perception, Hostile Corporate Takeovers, and every variety of War where he could put his real weapons to good use. They organised, they planned, and when the battles arrived, he and Lydia carved a path of inked signatures.
With the crystal split open, with something unspeakable pouring out of it, and with something blank and white and void suffocating him, it was this he thought of. Only that. He didn't have other desires, he only wanted to be by her side, to have her smile because he'd served her well, to watch what they had built together grow, the victories they forged come to fruition. To be beside her, forever and always, and to know that the loyalty was returned, that nothing and no one would break their lockstep.
Not here, not now, not this.
"Lydia," he forced out in the blank emptiness. Whatever else changed, this, he knew was constant. She would need him. He would be at her side.
(+280 words)
+5 damage
Posted: Mon Jun 12, 2017 8:00 pm
Rou lived a peaceful existence. He kept good care of his rock gardens, tending to his sculptures with due patience. Conquest were renown for their Craftsman, and each Craftsman held the secrets of creation in their elegant hands. The knowledge that once shaped, whatever form you lend shape to is forever in your thrall and debt.
Conquest's creations did not change or grow on their own. A cub or kit sculpted from marble would never reach the image of maturity. No matter how many stones Rodney had carved, this never changed.
He had felt a certain emptiness about it.
Weaving the basket had been different. Noth and he had both set to the task, careful hands and Fear intertwining into something elegant, with little out of place. The basket had not come to life. Rou had not made it for that. He and Noth had made the basket to contain something new, a Creation that would learn and grow and, perhaps, become a master in their own right, capable of bending other wills, and choosing their own path. With their guidance, of course. There would still be a debt.
And out of all of that, the foal that resulted was Song.
Rou would have loved their foal no matter which clan the foal hailed from, although he did not tell Noth this.
From the first hour, Song was held with affection and esteem, but Song's white hair and tail boldly proclaimed their clan.
And it was this Rou saw in the white. Not the raging emptiness, but his own strength, his own seed, a strong generation who would reign, rightful heirs to a throne whose seat was the earth and heavens, above and below.
(+284 words)
+5 damage
Toshihiko Two
Sugary Marshmallow
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kuropeco
Dramatic Marshmallow
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Posted: Mon Jun 12, 2017 8:13 pm
Xiao Lang
The crystal was breaking.
Xiao could feel it in his chest; a reverberation that pounded through him, almost a physical sensation but not quite. He stared up at the fractured scarlet and felt Jinhai shift beside him, a restless movement that somehow still made Xiao feel just a little bit better. It was always easier to handle things with Jinhai around, mostly because he served as the calmer, more rational side of Xiao's way of thinking.
"Any ideas?" Jinhai murmured now, and his blue eyes flickered towards Xiao, who pressed his lips together. Around them the whiteness surged upwards, wrapping around them, suffocating them - he felt trapped in it, caught in its blinding depths, his chest tightening, breathing coming out faster and faster.
"Not really," he said, but his eyes shut, Xiao taking a breath. Memories were already twisting and curling through his thoughts; he shifted through them idly, almost like watching a scene play out in front of him, as though he was reliving it right then and there.
Jinhai, bowing deeply, introducing himself.
Merope beside him, chattering away, looking bright eyed and eager.
The snap of the bowstring as he loosed an arrow, the satisfying twang of the wire, the rush of displaced air.
Her dark hair was short; he'd met her the year before, quiet and shy but sweet enough that it had caught his attention. He'd wanted to see her again, to talk to her once more, but it hadn't ended well; his first attempts had blustered, and the second even more so.
But here they were now. And just last week he had given her a small hair pin in the shape of a four leaf clover.
"For luck," he'd said, and smiled.
+5 dmg
Quote:
Character's Name: Xiao Lang Character's clan: Conquest Character's journal:Here Character's Arcana: The Justice Description: Five foot blond horseman in black and gold robes
molten tigrex
yw
Posted: Mon Jun 12, 2017 8:32 pm
The cracking of the red crystal caught his attention, though he certainly wasn't the first to show up in response to it. Seeing the newly made figure had him pulling his bow out and prepare to strike, however that was when the world went white around Asahi. How did the creature, the figure that had oozed out of the crystal like that, transport him to such a place? What powers did it hold? Was this just an illusion or was it a true transportation? The Conquest Noble looked around the blankness, the void that he was in, and somehow knew what he had to do.
The memory that came to him was simple, it was one of the many times he had been practicing archery so that he could attack with precision. From the look of the simple bow it was one of his earlier practice bows and in the memory he held an arrow at the ready as he aimed for the target ahead of him. He could feel the pull of muscles as he held the arrow at the ready, feel the deep breaths he made in preparation, could see the target ahead of him at a distance.
The memory faded back into his mind as the arrow left his bow to strike the target and Asahi focused back on the figure to see if anything had changed. There he could see that his memory had done something, not much in the grand scheme of things damage wise but he had[i/] hurt it.
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+5 Damage
OOC
Character's name: Asahi Character's clan: Conquest ~ Noble Character's journal link:Journal Character's arcana Fool Wild Card BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER He's a very friendly but curious person and if he sees something that might be a point of amusement in seeing how someone responds to something, he will totally push that button.
Natsuko-neko
Unstoppable OTP
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kuropeco
Dramatic Marshmallow
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Posted: Mon Jun 12, 2017 8:46 pm
Aric
He'd given her a vial of perfume once.
It had taken a lot of effort to make, really. Aric was not exactly well versed in anything that the Death jewelers made, and besides, this was not jewelry. But he'd wanted to make something special for her, because in spite of all the people that she could have chosen to become her guardian, she had chosen him.
She could have had anyone. She could have had picked any of the other fine stallions that could have made her happy, that could have protected her, and instead, Llydia had chosen him, and that had been one of the happiest memories in Aric's mind since he had first experienced it.
Sometimes he still thought of it. Like now, remembering the careful precision of the glass, trying to make sure that the cork was in place. Testing out the different liquids, shifting the weight of the scales to try and balance everything out. Several dozen test tries thrown into the garbage because he hadn't gotten them quite right, and he wanted to make this perfect.
It had taken a long time. But he had done it, in the end, even if it hadn't been all that much. A small, tiny vial of a pink liquid, smelling of something soft and floaty and almost roselike, except not quite. Corked and left on the priestess's pillow so that she would see it before she went to sleep, with a note that said, in Aric's untidy scrawl,
So you can carry the flowers with you, My Lady
- A
+5 dmg
Quote:
Character's Name: Aric Character's clan: Death Character's journal:Here Character's Arcana: High Priestess Description: Big buff Death Guardian with long dreads and lots of layers
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