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Tags: soquili, horses, breedable pets, pet horses, familiars 

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[PRP] - Aztec Blood [Ixchel and Xoyo]

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Sabin Duvert

Winter Trash

PostPosted: Tue Mar 04, 2014 8:37 pm


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Ixchel (Sabin Duvert)


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Xocoyolcoatl (Uta)
PostPosted: Wed Mar 05, 2014 12:50 pm


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Ixchel nosed carefully at the plant before her. Small pitcher-shaped purple flowers crested a long, leafy shoot. Skullcap. Perfect. It could ease pain, serve as a seditive... or... in the proper dosages, it could trigger seizures. carefully, she plucked some of the shoots and deposited them into the knapsack she wore slung over her shoulder.

Ixchel never questioned whether or not she had been raised in the "right" herd. SHe loved her mother and the extended family and unrelated herdmembers that she had grown up alongside. The wonders of the deep forest were a playground and an education for the shrewd, explorative mare, and she had built her own mental litany of the uses and applications for the plants that grew all around them. Just like the plants themselves, she herself walked a fine line between helpful and harmful. Her mixed blood, which she knew or cared little about the rationale, saw to that. She had grown up with soquili that defied the definition of breed, so she never really found her angeni features that clashed with the wicked Kalona horns and tail anything but unremarkable. Some of her herdmates had wings or horns... some didn't. Some had paws or claws, some were partially comprised of shadow or fire. All of them were family. That's not to say, however, that Ixchel always agreed with everything that the herd did. She wasn't squeamish - far from it. She had no qualms about hunting. She had passed her coming of age test to marehood - a long tradition in her mother's side of the family - by hunting and killing a powerful predator and taking its skull as a mask. However, she had never met with the progenitor of the tradition, Brigitte. Sure, she had seen her from a distance, talking to herself and meandering among the crumbling tombstones. She even periodically left her offerings of the elusive hot peppers that the mad mare seemed fond of. She respected her elders, and understood the strength of the bond of blood. But she had seen enough of her relatives like Lamia and Xibalba who had been potentially driven mad by taking directions from her directly. She had no desire to follow that tradition. Granted, her mother seemed sane enough, and she had told her the story of HER coming of age rite. But Ixchel knew that if her mind did break, she would not be very effective at carrying on her work.

Besides, hearing second-hand the direction Mixcatl had gotten was enough. And indeed, the next time Ixchel had come back to Brigitte's land with her offering of peppers after winning her mask after a tussle with a gator, Brigitte seemed to actually look upon her, and she could swear she saw the shadowy faces on her body smile. She had made her mother proud as well, not only passing the test, but besting the same sort of creature that she once had faced. She looked upon her then as a mare and no longer as a filly.

She had let Barghest go with her, but made him promise not to interfere in the ritual hunt. He had been her best friend growing up, as they were foals together, and the two of them enjoyed exploring the woods - him for the things that moved, and she for the ones that didn't. They learned from each other, and shared secrets with each other. And after Ixchel had taken the alligator's life, she had let Barghest read her future in its entrails. After all, it was a monumentous hunt.

At the time, she was surprised by what he said - in its stomach, he found the remains of a copperhead ... something that could heal or harm... something respected and feared, but of all snakes, one of the few that gave live birth - something that showed nurturing and care for the young.

But Ixchel had very much grown into that role. And now, she found herself along familiar paths, looking for familiar herbs and trying to get her mind off of the dissent that had come to the herd. She hated it. She hated the arguing, the disagreeing... she hated being put on the spot herself to make a decision. Taraxippus was readying for war, and all members of the herd were being asked... no... virtually told by the shadowy stallion... to join.

It made her insides squirm. A part of her reared to go - to prove her mettle as a warrioress and not just a healer. After all, she knew how to make poisons as readily as medicine. She used them sometimes on traps, or to give to a herdmember who asked. And she HAD bested an alligator on her own. So... did she really need to prove herself?

She was fully aware of the violence that many of her herdmembers carried out, and she didn't let it bother her, but she had never participated herslef. And they had, until this point, been content to leave her to her business. After all, when one came home injured, it was she that they sought.

But now... fighting... another herd of soquili - soquili that did not even deliver the first kick? She wasn't sure. So she had come here... to collect herbs. After all, as much as she was loathe to participate... even if she didn't, she could tend to the injured afterwards. Hopefully, that would be enough of a participation for Taraxippus.

So lost in thought was she, she hardly paid attention to her surroundings, or how far she had wandered...


Uta

Sabin Duvert

Winter Trash


Uta

Shy Mage

PostPosted: Sat Mar 15, 2014 8:13 pm


Sabin Duvert
I'm sorry he's kind of weird!


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Xocoyolcoatl was, unsurprisingly, lost. It was the great story of his life, and if anyone (his brother, perhaps) were to take note and retell the tale of the great Xocoyolcoatl's Journey through the Kawani, they would be sorely disappointed. So far, the majority of the story was nothing more than a lost, ambling fool who could hardly find any leads about his brother, much less know where he was at any given time. It was, perhaps, ridiculous for a stallion such as he to be so utterly clueless, but when one was always hearing whispers and hints of any given place, it was sometimes difficult to focus.

It was why he had found the mare Bindi's company so well favored. She at least had given him some direction, some focus. . . but alas, he seemed to have misplaced her, too. Or had she left? He couldn't quite recall. No matter. He was rather certain he'd find some clue, some memory about what had happened when it cycled 'round in his head. . . . So it was, the somewhat spacey stallion could do no more than carry on the rest of his way through this . . jungle. Jungle? Forest? Wood? He stopped for a moment, glancing around at the local foliage. There were whispers of thoughts of various snippets of knowledge which swished through his brain, some facets louder than others, but all of it very disconcerting. He blinked a few times, giving his head a small shake, attempting to focus on the area.

The vegetation suggested a jungle and tropical climate. The dew upon the leaves suggested great humidity -- even if he could feel it -- and the moisture in the air spoke of rain soon. Clearly he was somewhere tropical, somewhere a bit exotic, and that was just fine for him. Had they travelled so far south? Or was it west? He recalled the more deciduous forests he traveled with Bindi . . . but here it was different. How long had they been roaming? Xocoyolcoatl almost forgot, almost couldn't remember.

Did it really matter?

Likely not.

So it was, the stallion pawed lightly at the earth before carrying on. One hoof in front of the other, the stallion drifted through the jungle. He was vaguely aware of scents, though sometimes they popped up and told him what he was smelling, or how long the trail had been laid. He didn't know everything, there was too much for him to properly process, but every now and then. . . . something drifted in. So, he lived in a haze of thoughts. It was always worse when he was alone. . . . when he couldn't quite force himself to focus. Ah, but he tried.

Spirits, did he try.

So it was no surprise at all that the stallion had no idea he was making a bee-line straight to where Ixchel had roamed. He made no designs to hide himself, or make himself sneaky or unknown; in fact, he stuck out like a sore thumb with his large wings, his ridiculously large headdress, and the bells which jingled around his ankles. He was large, brightly coloured in pinks and blues, his long mane and tail tangled and dragging like a train behind him. Even in as bright a jungle as he found himself, Xocoyolcoatl was difficult not to see coming.
PostPosted: Sun Mar 16, 2014 4:51 pm


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It was stomping and crashing through the underbrush that finally lured out Ixchel's sense of awareness of her own surroundings. She looked about - the forest had seemingly untangled itself: gone were the thorny vines and dense, sparce trees. Instead, the ground was spongy under her feet, the foliage was deep green and verdant.

Her ears lay back. Had she wandered into someone else's territory? She swore at herself; she should have been paying more attention.

But... maybe it was a good thing she wasn't home. Taraxippus's little 'meeting' was probably going on right now.

Quietly as she could, she slunk around to get a better look at who else was around. It sounded big, probably another soquili.

But when she edged around some trees and saw the vivid color and elaborate headdress of the stallion picking his way through the woods, her anxiety declined. He had two pairs of large, feathered wings - like her mother - and... what looked like horns? Or was that part of his headdress?

She watched him for a moment quietly before finally deciding to draw attention to herself. She needed a distraction. "Hey. You. Who are you?" She asked bluntly.


Uta
No worries! I can sympathize; I have soquili like that, too XD

Sabin Duvert

Winter Trash


Uta

Shy Mage

PostPosted: Thu Apr 03, 2014 3:19 pm


The stallion almost missed the sound of the voice. He was still struggling through his thoughts, trying desperately to pick his way out of the fog of information that streamed in, so the voice almost was overlooked. Thankfully, though, the stallion did catch a peculiar scent on the air; faint, but present enough to help aid him into being more alert. Estrogen. Female. Not Bindi. Words. His pink gaze glanced around, before settling upon a peculiar looking mare that was definitely not his previously missing companion. This mare had a darker coat, only one set of wings, though they were brilliantly colored, and appeared to be wearing some sort of skull. Or was that her actual face? Xocoyolcoatl couldn't tell, and while he could place her as part angei, the horns that arched over her ears, and the fangs the spaded tail made him hesitate. Kalona-Angeni mix? Now that would be quite a pairing. . . . though he supposed there were stranger things in the world. Like that plants-- or were they feathers? -- which draped over her her body and down her sides.

Honestly, Xocoyolcoatl didn't know what to make of the mare.

Still, he did recall hearing her words, or what he presumed were her words, and belatedly offered a small, relaxed smile. "They call me Xocoyolcoatl," he spoke, his words practically drawled. The cogs of his mind continued to process what he saw, what he learned, moment by moment. After a moment, still studying Ixchel, trying his best to place what he could, for his own sanity, he remembered his manners. "I mean no harm," he added, unsure if the fangs which he witnessed might not cause her alarm. He was an angeni, after all. ". . .though I...may be lost. Who might . . . you be?" Lethargic as his words were, they were slow, easily paused as something else processed through.

He really needed some sort of keeper, which was exactly why he strove to seek out his brother, Cuah.



Sabin Duvert
PostPosted: Thu Apr 03, 2014 5:01 pm


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Ixchel shifted her weight from hoof to hoof. Had this been still her territory, she would have been a lot more confident, especially when it came to facing such a large stallion. Still, there was something almost famliar about him. Maybe it was just the wings and feathers that reminded her of her mother. But if this wasn't his land, either, there was no reason to be defensive. Just two soquili on neutral territory. Or at least, hopefully neutral.

She shook her head, clearing it, and before she answered, she carefully tucked a few species of plants - some poisonous, some not, securely into the little satchel she had carried with her, flipping the flap closed.

"So this isn't your land." She concluded from the stallion's confession of being lost. Her mouth skewed to the side, half-considering, half-scowling. "Xocoyolcoatl, hmm?" She said, pronouncing the complex name with surprising deftness. "I'm Ixchel. And while I'm not lost, I appear to have traveled a little further than I intended."





Uta

Sabin Duvert

Winter Trash


Uta

Shy Mage

PostPosted: Mon May 26, 2014 11:52 am


Sabin Duvert


Xocoyolcoatl's pink eyes watched as the mare tucked some various flora into her satchel. There was a whisper of plant names, an echo of their uses, but they were gone as soon as they had arrived, and that was just as well. The stallion did his best to focus on the muted brown mare, to focus on the colors of her wings, and spots upon her coat. She sported horns of a kalona, along with that of a tail, but her wings were rather reminiscent. Similar to his lost companion. . . Bindi. . . But where she had two, this mare had one. A cross breed? A half breed? Thoughts flickered through, but he fought against the tide of knowledge that threatened to consume him.

Her name gave him something to focus on. It was a way in which he could ground himeslf, at least temporarily. "Ixchel," he repeated, giving his head a small, thoughtful tilt. The bells which adorned his great headdress jingled, and for a moment he fell silent, pondering her words. "It's good...to meet you." Ixchel. He tucked the name away and held on, hoping he would not lose it in the next tide of information that might come his way. Was already coming. Everything she said was tucked away, such as the knowledge that she might reside not far from here. "Do not let me keep you from your gathering," he drawled, offering a smile. He wasn't afraid of the mare -- fear was something he didn't often experience, if only because he didn't often know any better. "I am quite sure I might . . . navigate myself through these jungles in . . .due time." It was true enough. No matter how lost or stranded, he always made it through one way or another.

PostPosted: Wed Jun 04, 2014 9:34 am


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Ixcel's name came from a deep routed mythology of her lineage and spoke of powerful warrioress, jaguars, rainbows, medicine and midwifery. She was proud of her name and the stories she had been told of its inspiration from her mother. It was a complex idea, which made Ixchel all the prouder of her namesake. It inspired her, along with her mother's love of the treasures the jungle could hold, to focus on herbalism and a deep knowledge of the plants.
Thinking of her mother just made her a little anxious, though. Would she join Taraxippus's call to arms? She hoped not...

She drew her attention back to the stallion with a smile, "It is nice to meet you as well. And you have not interrupted me." Had this been his territory and he been guarding it.. that would be an interruption. This was a pleasant distraction.

"Is there somewhere you are looking to go?"





Uta
Xoco's concept is really intersting. I like the idea of the barrage of constant information on things he sees/thinks of to the point of it being hard for him to focus on a situation/idea as a whole

Sabin Duvert

Winter Trash


Uta

Shy Mage

PostPosted: Wed Aug 13, 2014 8:31 pm


Sabin Duvert


The stallion kept his focus on the tribal mare, glad to have someone there to keep him grounded. Usually it was the pale mare, Bindi, but he had somehow missed her, and was quite unsure where the other angeni might be. She was not yet forgotten, though he feared in due time he might very well forget her name and face and purpose to the tide of knowledge that chipped away at him with every breath. Everything he knew was just as quickly replaced or forgotten until a time he needed it. It often left him in situations such as this – with some purpose but no recollected direction. He would need to find Bindi, but hadn’t the slightest clue where the mare had gotten herself. For now, though, he would focus on this other mare. . . so similar yet different.

She was certainly a mare of the jungles, if her appearance had any say in the matter! So it was, he now hung onto Ixchel’s name and did his best to keep focused. “. . . I am pleased to . . know such company is not. . . a bother.” He offered the mare a warm smile, not at all put off. Ixchel seemed amicable enough, though he had no doubt she was a fierce as any creature that thrived in such a habitat. The skull on her was certainly a sign of power, if ever he’d seen one.

“I fear that is a . . . trick question. I am indeed seeking another. . . but have always been without . . direction. My brother is somewhere in the Kawani. . . though I haven’t the slightest idea where.” He had hoped to reunite with him when he first came to these lands, but that had proved challenging. Who knew the Kawani could be so big? Certainly not the Angeni of Knowledge! “There was another travelling with me. . . but I have seemed to misplace her, too.” So it was, he gave a small shrug and a small, almost bashful, dip of his head. The bells upon his headdress jingled cheerfully, though it was clear Xocoyolcoatl seemed unconcerned by either. “I am a bit turned around . . . but I suppose, for me, that is nothing. . . new.” He was, ultimately, always lost. It was part of the reason he wished to seek out his brother. Perhaps with Cuah near, with Learning, he would have a place to belong and no need to roam. Perhaps, with Cuah, he could truly focus.

“What if Ixchel? Are you. . . roaming these jungles, too? Or is it. . . your native land?”
PostPosted: Thu Oct 30, 2014 9:27 am


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Ixchel patiently listened to the stallion struggle through his words, as if trying to string together beads that had rolled in myriad directions. Perhaps he was touched, or perhaps under the influence of some poison? As she listened, though, she began to suspect the former.

But Ixchel knew soquili with different struggles. Her Grand-dam was among them, though Ixchel tended to give the mad Brigitte her space, she knew that the legacy and traditions she had begun with her mother and uncles gave them strength and focus even when she rarely had it herself. Though, admittedly, sometimes following that path that one such as her set could lead to madness as well.

Still, Ixchel listened. He sought two things - a lost traveling companion, but the purpose for his presence here (in the Kawani? He must have traveled from some distance!) was to find a lost brother.

"These jungles border my own, but it is at least half a day's travel back to my herd." She informed him. "I had never been in these particular woods before, but many of the plants here are familiar to me."

She cocked her head, "Who was it you were traveling with? Maybe I have seen them. And your brother? What do you know if him? "

Maybe helping a lost soquili was what she needed to get her head out of the mire that was the brewing conflict she didn't want to participate in. A good excuse at the very least to keep out of it until it was over and she could tend to wounds rather than cause them.






Uta
So sorry it took me so long to respond here @.@ - My muse curled up and died for a few months and I'm slowly trying to coax it out for at least a few things.

Sabin Duvert

Winter Trash

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