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| Welcome wanderer! You seem to have stumbled across Kormada, a wild horse roleplay approaching its ten year anniversary on the net. We are a very friendly and very active community of players of all ages and experience levels. So take a look around, join us, and experience the chaos of life on a planet cheating death with every day of continued existence. Join Kormada and enter the realm! If you're already a member please log in to your account to access all of our features: |
| the art of b r e a k i n g | ||||
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| Tweet Topic Started: Jul 17 2015, 06:27 PM (134 Views) | ||||
| `d e p p | Jul 17 2015, 06:27 PM Post #1 | |||
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I think everybody's nuts.
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OPEN [justify=400]LET ME OUT OF THIS DREAM As the tovero mare pulls herself from the ocean and onto the pearly shores of the Offland, her narrow chest gasping and her mocha eyes wild, she does not know what or who she has stumbled on. For days, weeks, months, she has been on the move—always running, never allowed to stop. Willowy muscles quiver beneath her skin, weighing heavily against her bones with the threat of collapsing, but still she pushes herself forward. Sand clings to her wet body, grass and twigs caught in the mess of her black mane and tail. She is hardly the beauty she could be, the wilds having claimed her as their own. She stumbles when the shadows of the woods swathe her in their leafy boughs, not waiting for her eyes to adjust from the brightness of the beach as she staggers recklessly forward, her ragged breaths wheezing against the dryness of her throat. It is in this blind and frantic state that she finds herself suddenly colliding with something—or someone. The body is tough and warm, sending her reeling backwards onto her back. From the dimness she hears the muffled movement of the stranger, and Harrier flails with her long legs before managing to right herself, but already the someone is towering over her. The stallion is strange—striped, with black bands circling his legs—and looking down at her with an equally confused expression. “Who are you?” He asks her in a voice that is hesitant, neutral, and lacking the roughness that she had been expecting. Harrier shrinks away from him, pinning her ears and barring her teeth. Not that she would know how to attack, or even want to, but she listens to the instincts of her body. “What do you want?” The stallion continues when she gives no reply. Her heart pounds in her ears and her body urges her to run—run as she had—but from somewhere beneath the wildness, a voice comes. Her mother, fondly and eagerly, explaining the family Harrier has never met (will never meet), and her mother’s words piece together something of recognition behind the blue flecks in her eyes. “…Aeson?” She says hesitantly, her voice coarse and her vowels broken from disuse. The stallion perks up, looking shocked and confused. “…yes? Do I know you?” Harrier swallows, “Mother…Papillon…” “Papi?!” The stallion exclaims, surprising the mare and stiffening her body with his outburst. “Oh, Papi—you’re her daughter?” Harrier only nods, her eyes large and doe-like with the fear and adrenaline that still fires her veins. “Oh how wonderful! Tell me, how is she doing? Why isn’t she with you? It’s been so long, I miss her so much.” The tovero cowers, trembling, unwilling to face this stallion—her uncle—with all his excitement when there is only darkness in her mind and fear in her heart. “Mother…” she tries again, “mother is…gone…” her eyes sting now, and she chokes a rasping, sobbing breath, “Murdered.” - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - Nearly two days have passed since my niece had stumbled into my land…nearly two days since she had brought me the news. Nearly two days since my world had come to a shattering, excruciating, heart-wrenching stop. I keep replaying her words in my mind. Murdered. My heart breaks each time, and some small part of me doesn’t accept it—can’t accept it. It just…it can’t be true. It can’t. But the fear and pain in the young mare’s eyes could not have lied. Papi, my dear Papi, is no more—never again will I hear her bubbling laughter, or see the light in her eyes, or her smile more friendly than I could ever muster. It’s…it’s all gone. She’s gone. ;; aeson & harrier rowan x siason || ten || neutral papillon x relic || six || undecided [/justify] |
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Remember...if you feel glum, just shake your bum! #EpicStrut ![]() paper faces on parade; | ||||
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| devotchka | Jul 18 2015, 08:41 AM Post #2 | |||
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WELL SWEET MOTHER TERESA ON THE HOOD OF A MERCEDES BENZ
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| `d e p p | Jul 24 2015, 11:52 PM Post #3 | |||
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I think everybody's nuts.
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[justify=400]LET ME OUT OF THIS DREAM I don’t…I don’t understand. The body has a wide range of emotions, ones that cannot hold a labeled number as they mix and merge, creating new and unfamiliar feelings every moment. I am ignorant to many of these. It seems like I have lived in a monotony for most of my life, often suppressing any amount rising amount of misery, loathing, or even happiness in favor of a more neutral state. Not that I don’t enjoy being elated, or even that I have realized that I’ve been doing it; but more often than not, I have found that it is much easier to swallow something and bury it rather than allow it to linger and eat at you. But I can’t swallow this. It won’t be buried. This…it is festering, blistering and painful. So much pain. Why? How? My body is still healthy and strong, or so my mind tells me, but I feel like I am breaking…slowly, but all too quickly, I am falling apart. I don’t notice that I’m no longer alone until she’s already at my side, a sudden flash of pale cream and blue eyes that startles me at first. I’m on edge, uncomfortable, and restless. Exhaling a slow, weighted breath from my nostrils, I look at the perlino mare directly. My eyes are inflamed from the tears that have come and gone, their gaze listless—I can feel their leaden weight. Half of me hopes that I don’t look too pitiful, but I am much too wrought with grief to really care. Let it have me. “Vexare,” I murmur, my voice low and tight with the swell of emotions that has my throat swollen, my heart breaking, and my body collapsing. As if it is an after thought, or just noticing that she has reached out to me, I extend my muzzle to her, my movements slow and robotic—forced. My warm breath mingles with hers, my skin tingling as it brushes against the velvet of her face. I linger there for a long moment, longer than I am used to, as though her proximity could help me. Please, I plead with her silently, knowing that she can’t hear, hoping she can’t hear, help me. I can’t do this alone. But I have to. It is mine, my burden, my pain. Withdrawing, I keep my head tilted towards her, the act of shifting my body seeming too strenuous right now. It’s too much. “How have you been?” I ask with a voice that is not my own, willing myself to care, knowing I should, knowing that I would have if it were not for…well. “I feel like we haven’t seen each other in many seasons,” I attempt a smile, but it feels woeful misshapen even on my lips, so I let it fall to save either one of us from the torture. ;; aeson rowan x siason || ten || neutral [/justify] |
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Remember...if you feel glum, just shake your bum! #EpicStrut ![]() paper faces on parade; | ||||
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