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i feel it in my bones, bones, bones;; claim // any
Topic Started: Jul 20 2015, 01:33 PM (151 Views)
madie
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[justify=400]The Scourge had displaced him. He is not sure whether or not his cousin, Astair, made it out of the mire alive, but part of him knows that he will not last long without it. As much of a haunt as the painted stallion is, he is still mortal, and the Green has taken hold of him. Chaul does not go looking for him. Their relationship is more of a mutual tolerance towards one another. Chaul knows it is useless to chase away a haunt that cannot leave the Green.

But, when he returns, there is another that seems to have taken up residence. Chaul does not know him. Astair is gone, and there is a pale stallion in his place.

For a time Chaul waits along the outskirts of the marsh, allowing time for the new stallion to gather a herd. But, it would seem that their world is still reeling. Chaul hears a distant rumble that he mistakes as thunder at first, until the land begins to tremble, and the ground beneath his feet begins to swallow him.

He tries to run, he tries to flee, but there is something pulling him down, and before he knows it, he joins the many skeletons that the Green has claimed. He strains to scream, but chokes on the mud, and the vessels in his eyes burst as he is strangled.

‘You will not take me.’ he thinks, and his own thoughts are sputtering and choked.

Then there is blackness, because there is no light to guide a soul that comes from blood like his. Then there is water, because the afterlife is too full, too choked with souls to take another. He gasps, and hacks, and realizes that he is alive, but in a place he does not know. And then there is a familiar croon, and a shift in the shadows. Surely this is hell.
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antimony . balor . chaul . desdemona . eidothea . malady . opium . rowtag . ryse . scorn . sköll
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devotchka
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WELL SWEET MOTHER TERESA ON THE HOOD OF A MERCEDES BENZ
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Lines © Ningchen.
E V E N N E
' be careful making wishes in the dark, can't be sure when they've hit their mark '
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[justify=700]FINALLY, she has been rid of those mortal souls that chained her to the darkest marshlands of this wretched earth. Literally. The scourge has rectified all those things wrong in her life, loosened the fetters and sent those worms crawling back to murky crevices; places for all inferior walks of life. Evenne does not miss Tyrant. She was drawn to his potential, to the mild ripples of fear he dispersed in his presence. Unfortunately that pretence was all it was –a façade. The pale mare had only lingered briefly in those festering swamps, enough to see that no one was returning.

NOR does she long for the red shadow that plagued her every living moment from the moment she extracted it’s feeble form from their mother’s corpse. With hindsight, she should have left Ephrosene to die. A foal born from a dead mare is always a bad omen. For two gruelling years they had wandered, food for her half-sister stolen from the mouths of other weanlings, sheltered in borrowed lands. A changeling child. She hadn’t even been her full sibling – an inferior stallion her dam had settled for after a lifetime of being at the centre of dark power conflicts. And to die during birth. Evenne almost scoffs at the irony.

SHE has chosen to visit here because it seemed the obvious place to go next. The alabaster mare’s journey has led to a place not described by brief, fleeting descriptions she received as an infant of her mother’s homeland. They were her favourite stories. Times not polluted by strategy and plot. Soon the rusty hue of the sky, barely touched by the tint that coverers the rest of the planet grows faint as she enters the bed of the gorge. Another figure struggles ahead. She watches, her pallor shimmering in the gloom.

‘AM I interrupting?’
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' and besides in the mean, meantime i'm just dreaming of tearing you apart '
x x

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in these cages we call walls ~
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madie
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[justify=400]
This is not Chaul’s first brush with the Reaper. In fact, his own father had worn the black cloak, and carried to scythe that should have taken his soul when he was just a foal. Instead, Scion had taken an ear, and let the black colt flee. Now, the one remaining ear swivels to catch the faint sound of hoof beats over the trickle of the stream. The green light plays tricks on his eyes, and for a moment Chaul mistakes the pale mare for his sire.

Yes, this is hell.

Fragments of his mother’s memory weave with Chaul’s reality, recreating events from long before the dark stallion existed. There had only been two times in his mother’s entire life when she had laid down helpless. Chaul can feel the desert sand from his mother’s memory brush across his cheek. He feels the shadow of a stallion standing over him, blocking the sun. The shadow expands to total darkness, and he chokes again, coughing water from his lungs.

You will not take me.

Again, a green glow illuminates a pale figure just a stone’s throw away. Her voice rings against the walls of the gorge. The tightness in his chest (a sliver of the fear he felt as a child when his sire had attempted to kill him) releases. He lifts his head, his dark form nearly concealed in the harsh darkness, but the eerie light causes his eyes to gleam green through the shadows. For a moment he answers her with a stare. He almost expects her to morph into another nightmare. But, she doesn’t. Not yet.

“That depends.” He says finally, before rising from the stream as if her were born of it. Water runs from his body like black ink as he steps onto a bank of slick stone. He is painted smooth and gleaming like a snake in the moonlight. “Couldn’t you see my rising from the dead there?” He asks, motioning to the spot in the water where the Green had spit him out.
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antimony . balor . chaul . desdemona . eidothea . malady . opium . rowtag . ryse . scorn . sköll
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