Fimbulvetr

Radames

Character OTS

OTS 1
OTS 2

Andante & Iracebeth

Couple OTS


Open | we are legion

#1

Evandr

They had healed from their wounds. Mostly, at least. Evandr's hide still bore pink, puckered flesh where the wounds were still mending. Punctures littered the back of his nape, mirroring the hooked knobs of his dragon-flesh by sinking in rather than protruding out. These were the worst and held the most damage. Now, days later, they flared red hot, and a dull pulse echoed from their location with each beat of his heart. Evandr liked to boast he had grown accustom to the heat in the ruthless suns of the Wastelands, but he could not temper the sweat on his brow from the infections that danced in the visceral injuries left by the dire wolf's fangs. With a grimace, Evandr turned his nape round to glance to the left. At his flank, slipping down into the precious pink flesh of his groin, further lacerations from the lupine's fangs winked against the alabaster and plum. In comparison to their infected counterparts, these wounds had all but scabbed and were entering the final stages of recuperation. And for it Evandr was thankful.

If anything was to be gained from the dire wolf attack, it was the sheer reminder that they must act as one, a legion, rather than solitary. Despite the frail nature of their adversary, he had managed to injure (brutally) the four exiles that had engaged him. What would have transpired if the beast had been at it's peak? Could it have been their ruin if more than one had shown? Evandr didn't like to look at their life with such melancholy glasses but it was difficult under the circumstances. So his sapphire eyes turned to the bright azure skies, naked of ivory cloud, and squinted into the golden rays that poured from it. As the Warden, it was his job to ensure that the exiles remained an unit, that they did not kill one another for the smallest of gains. It was time for them all to meet. It was time for everyone to heed their Warden.

Stiff limbs drug through the sands, watching how the dark volcanic grains intertwined with the rich terracotta mass. It left a marbled effect in some places, while a blur of different shades in others. Like the body of the exile people, the colors were constantly shifting, constantly changing. Hopefully that change could be slowed. It wasn't long before the verdant waters of the oasis glistened with it's blinding winks of light. It drew a soft simper on the Warden's lips that faded almost immediately. There was a beauty to the emerald city lost here in the wastes. He wondered if the Houses even knew of its existence. Drawing along the shorelines, Evandr let his dry lips gently into the water. One, two, three gulps of water satisfied the parch of his throat and he let his thick head rise. Again he scanned the oasis, the life there, and the resolute quiet that had fallen since the incident with the wolf. Crystalline water still dribbling from his pink lips, Evandr cleared his throat. "Exiles! Heed the call of your Warden! Come to me!"


Tag: Aishe, Avarice, Hex, Kith'ae, Lucia, Feyre, Marishka, Semiramis
WC: 520
Muse: 2/5 whoops
OOC: Exile meeting! I will be replying sometime next Monday!

powerplay allowed
within reasonable limits!

Tag: @[Evandr]

#2
Marishka
the world was a tomb for me; a graveyard full of broken statues

Water. That was all Marishka could think about as her hooves lazily brushed against the bronze, hot sand. How long had she been walking? Hours? Days? Marishka had lost count. No speck of green or blue had been seen by her wandering eyes in what felt like forever, but she knew where she was going. Was this what her own personal hell was? No. She had discovered her purgatory when she was a mere child. This was her afterlife. Doomed to wander for an eternity and to never settle seemed like an appropriate punishment for Marishka’s crime of being born. She kept walking; her lips pursed at the creeping thought of her painful past.

As if it had magically appeared, the oasis that Marishka had visited many times throughout her life came through the haze and heat of the desert sands and its lava counterpart. Perked ears flicked forward, and her ivory banner rallied to show the eagerness to finally drink crisp water from the only watering hole in the abandon. This is where all of Satan’s children came for haven, and Marishka had prepared for a potential fray to claim her right to drink. There was nothing home-y about the oasis or the Svartr lands, but all that had been outcast had somehow made peace with it.

Marishka approached the cerulean waters, stepped one hoof into the shallows, and careened her neck down to drink. One ear flipped to her rear and another faced forward. Delicate lips kissed the liquid like a passionate lover, and she retracted slowly while water dripped from the brink of her lips, down to her chin.

It was then that she noticed the presence downwind from her, but it wasn’t his body or his smell that she had noticed first. Instead it was his booming voice that had startled her from the blissfulness of her drink.

The Warden.

She slunk from the waterside of the oasis to join the heliotrope and bleached man that had called for her attention. Perhaps she would entertain the idea of listening for once.

Loping around the opposite side of Evandr she made her presence known with a small whinny, whether he acknowledged her or not was entirely up to him. His fresh scabs were interesting to Marishka, and the smell of dried blood caught her attention first. “It appears that you’ve been in some trouble.”

HTML © RILEY | image © NAKI




Evandr
Tag: @[Marishka]

#3
we are the wild ones, the savages

She had put herself through the ringer harder than she ever remembered.

In the wake of the battle with the wolf, Aishe's wounds had healed but the fever in her veins had not seemed to peak and die; and the raw carnage had stirred up emotions Aishe had not felt in years. Fear was among the others--Fear and hate and panic. Her nights were full of repressed memories that she thought she'd gotten over. But that was how these things worked wasn't it? They always sought to come back at the most inopportune time.

Shifting in the sands of her tiny abode (really she just liked to nap under a particularly large leaf near the water), her long ears drowsily perked when Evandr's voice echoed out across the dunes. Weakness was something Aishe hated to see within herself, and as she went to stand with legs shaking under her small weight, a string of curses flooded her mind. Of course he'd call a meeting now, why wouldn't he?

She limped like an old hag, head low fever-sweat beading her tan and brown hide as her gemstone eyes squinted in the sun. The jenny near dragged her wounded hind leg, barely enough energy to stand let alone force herself to ignore the pain from the bite. It had been swollen for a time, but thankfully the squishy flesh had returned to relative normal levels.

No one had really gathered, and for a moment the jenny wondered if she and the stranger were the only ones left. The two boys who'd come into the fray had been wounded badly, and the realization that they could have perished in the desert in the days following the attack struck her. Aishe had seen death, she had known it intimately. But the boy who'd been decorated in bones and orange paint--did he deserve it? Did any of them deserve it? She had to force the bile from her mouth just to speak.

"you rang?"

The irritation was clear as the day in her tone, and her vision didn't dare look up into Evandr's. She was in no position to quip a wittisicm, nor did she have a joke or two to spare. Today, Aishe had wished for nothing but the release of death. She was sure the sun would bake her from the inside out with the fever.

image
Evandr Marishka
Tag: @[Aishe]

#4
Pain. Searing hot pain. He could remember the feeling of his flesh torn from his bones as if was still happening. The days had not been kind to him, nor had the flies. The section of his chest that had been opened by the grasping teeth of the wolf was no doubt infected to some degree. It had begun to heal, no doubt locking the infection within him. He knew he'd have to open it again and wash it out at some point-- the sooner the better. But the idea of bringing himself pain was something Hex was not interested in. The claw marks across his front legs were healing nicely at least. Dirt, sweat, and filth still clung to his dark hide from the attack. Rather than taking care of himself, Hex had collapsed and lain there for a day before finally rising to his feet. After he had slunk off, wanting to be alone with his thoughts. Thoughts that haunted him. Constantly nagging, claws desperately trying to dig their way inside. He wanted to be free. So desperately did he feel the need to be free from his own insecurities, though it was not meant to be. He was sure of it.

The call came and Hex wearily turned his head toward the sound. Back to the oasis. He was sure to see the sand still stained with blood, bits of flesh strewn about. The idea made his stomach twist and he gagged at the thought. No, he'd done damage. He'd attacked that beast with everything he had. If he was strong enough to deal with that surely he could return. Albeit without the rush of adrenaline to keep him going he was unsure of himself.

Slowly, Hex moved toward the group though he did not get too close. He remained on the opposite side of the oasis and kept his head low. Each time one of the other horses were to move he quickly averted his gaze, flipping his ears out to the sides. He wanted nothing more than to meet their gazes but he couldn't. That turned his stomach more than the remaining stench. Hesitantly Hex waded into the shallows of the oasis, though he made no effort to cross the waters. He could see the woman he had gone after the leg with had survived and he felt a momentary elation at the thought. He'd never had a friend and she certainly wasn't a friend but they had fought together and he was glad for her survival. Though he quickly turned his head away, instead focusing on a spot in the distance while he turned one ear toward Evandr.

 Evandr  Marishka  Aishe  








image credit

Tag: @[Hex]

#5
Semiramis

"Blood, Guts & Chocolate Cake"

She couldn't tell you the last time she'd heard the voice of another, or even gazed upon the face of another. Semiramis had staked her claim in the deserts that covered the East like a blanket, keeping to herself in the crags and crevices of long forgotten corners of this strange land. Survival is her closest friend, bosom buddy, drinking pal; so when the word had finally reached her ears of a new Warden in the wastes, her curiosity had been piqued.

For a time, she still kept her distance; observing their dwindling numbers at the oasis. But after the stench of blood permeated the air, staining sands red from it's irony base, Semiramis heard the bellowing call of this stranger echoing across the dunes. A smile had tugged at her tattered dry lips, one that could make even death shutter.

Long lanky legs carried her across the sand with ease--charcoal coat dusty and dirty, hair mangled and knotted and matted--Semiramis looked nothing less than a wreck. But, as one might expect, it was part of the charm and wickedness that was Semiramis. Covered only in thin fabric to help shield her eyes in the occasional sandstorm, she makes her way by following the faint scent of water.

Dunes turned to rocks, then vegetation became more and more prevalent to her surroundings. The, of course, emerald turned to the source of the voice--and the laughably small gathering. Standing in the shade of a tree, it is several moments before the desert warrior manages to take her first step forward, shaking back the hood till it rested at her shoulders. It caught for a moment on a jagged scale, but the faint breeze that came through managed to untangle it. Khol lips pulled back to reveal brightly colored triangular teeth, and her presence was accented only by the almost arrogant sway to her walk.

It was to be clear to all those present that she'd eaten little, but strength and power still seemed to radiate from her core like the unforgiving sun's light.

"Well, this is quaint" her voice, lower than most females, was hoarse from the sandpaper tongue in her mouth. Thirst was something she learned to ignore until necessary. "So it's true, Saren really was taken out by a 'mighty' beast." Semiramis paid no heed to the others gathered, rather emerald had been ever focused on the painted stallion before her. He was covered in wounds--fresh and old--marking him a scrapper not unlike herself. She moves delicately for one who spent most of her life fighting, like a snake in the sands.

Semiramis attempts to circle him, observing as she does. The woman had learned her lesson of foolishness--never underestimate someone. Something so simple could easily be the downfall of even a mighty king. In the end, it had only cost her freedom. "Mmm," she mused after a moment of silence. "I expected you to be taller. Such a pity."

template by soupi

Evandr Marishka Hex
Tag: @[Semiramis]

#6

Evandr

Unsurprisingly, the wait wasn't long before the first of the damned slithered from the oasis' shadows. Evandr noticed the piebald of amethyst eyes long before she would do the same. Her startle at his voice, lips dribbled with crystalline waters that winked in the harsh sunlight, brought a small smile to his lips. There was no malice nor sick fancy he found in the start, rather his sapphire eyes shone with a minute semblance of apology across the other hilarity. Within, he was curious at her aloof behavior and that she'd managed to maintain it here in the Wastes... it wasn't a place he'd recommend for the distant of focus.

Evandr was not a stallion of ill aim. His audits flicked towards the approach of another before he'd inevitably turned from the feigned-stitch mouthed lady reeling from her start. When he finally did pull his visage opposite, a grimace manifesting with the heightened burn of his nape's lacerations, it was none other than the one he admired quietly. He eyed her especially, noticed her wounds with similar puckers and crowns of puss that shimmered upon them. A single audit fell back, sapphire visionaries squinting at her as her unending sarcasm fell from her lips. Sweat had mottled her brow and her hide, betrayed by the darknening of her pelt much to the same effect of his own. Curious... "Aishe." he greeted, the words so second nature to their interactions now that he hardly realized he'd spoken until his lips had already parted and his head dipped ever so slightly.

Next was another who had defended their home from the dire wolf. Evandr would have been lying if he hadn't said he thought the boy was entirely out of bounds. But he'd survived the encounter, and the Warden was sure it was a bit of luck on his side. But his duty and sense of kinship was admirable. No matter what Evandr thought, the colt had offered his body to the fray and he'd ultimately helped them conquer the lupine. Evandr eyed him from across the oasis, nostrils spitting out the arid breeze that had carried some of the baking blood's stench their way. The dire's blood. It smelled of nothing Evandr had even witnessed in his years of life. He didn't trust it. Even now, drawn away from it, the winds had the mind to remind them of it there, strewn across the sands, boiling in the sun. But sand would cover it soon. Yes... the sands, ever shifting, would erase the memory.

With a sigh he eyed others teetering on the outskirts of the oasis. It was not uncommon for the castaways to fear and give their Warden breadth. But he pitied that he had not proven himself better than Saren to them yet. A lash of his obsidian tresses straightened Evandr. He supposed he might as well start.

But a snake inched her way through the crowd. Evandr's vision snapped to her without hesitation, a pinch drawing betwixt his cool eyes that now burned with the passive aggressiveness of the stranger. She was lean muscle, but there was a thickness to her in the bone. Her tone was rich, deeper than he'd expect for a female. Her emerald visions ate his appearance, gorging themselves upon his confirmation and inspecting his scars. If he hadn't been accustom to such scrutiny, his spine would have crawled. His audits of creme and plum snapped back, and with his bubbling irritation his wounds beat more frequently with their consuming ache. As much as Evandr wished to respond to her, he offered her no words, just a silent glare of disapproval before sweeping his gaze back across the Oasis to the piebald, Aishe, and the young colt.

It was enough.

"As many of you know," he began, his voice low and gravelled, his eyes squinted through the sunshine, "A dire wolf came into our home some days ago. We were lucky enough to defend it with what numbers rallied to aid but...", he snorted, in exasperated hilarity, "But if there had been more..." He let the image settle on them. Yes, if there had been more than one mangy mongrel who knew how they would have faired. Who knew who would have survived? His blues flick to the colt so far away, to Aishe, and then once into the trees. The other who had fought beside them had not shown... could he have passed in one of the chilling nights? "The exiles are traditionally a shit show. We're the castaways of the Valley, the undesired. It paints an image of equine versus equine, squabbling over this Oasis and whatever other resources we find in the Wastes like that desperate wolf.

"But we are not a rapid pack of wolves, or, we shouldn't be. If threats from the Valley truly are going to cross those hallowed dunes and come into our home we cannot stand alone. We cannot be unforgiving or inconsiderate to our neighbors. It will ultimately be our undoing. One by one, all of us could, and would, die. I ask you to take a pledge for me. To help prove that we aren't simply a prison brimming with criminals, but a functioning and efficient unit." He pauses, eyeing the crowd for a quick read, knowing full well speeches aren't his strong suit. "I ask we stand together, to defend the Oasis, and to prove to the Houses we will not be forgotten."


Tag: Aishe, Avarice, Hex, Kith'ae, Lucia, Feyre, Marishka, Semiramis
WC: 912
Muse: 3/5 whoops
OOC: Those who haven't posted yet are still welcome!

powerplay allowed
within reasonable limits!

Tag: @[Evandr]

#7

It didn’t take long for the rest of the troop to arrive. The first had been a mare of incredibly short stature. Her chocolate and vanilla coat was only the beginning of her flashy appearance. The pink and purple horn shone bright against the desert oasis. Marishka wondered how it felt to have a horn. All she had were her annoyingly noisy piercings in each ear, and her particularly pointy canines. Oh well. Envious wasn’t what Marishka was. Her attention turned back to the mare with the massive ears. Was she limping? If curiosity was a cloak, Marishka was definitely wearing it today.

The next to arrive was a particular boy; he was one that had stayed a bit away as Marishka had. He did not look at her, or so she assumed. It was difficult to pinpoint exactly where someone was looking from her position. Hex’s demeanor was definitely something that piqued the ebony and ivory mare’s interest. What had hurt him enough to avert his gaze from The Warden? Marishka didn’t dwell on it for long, but who could with the next arrival?

A coal-colored body made its way through the oasis with gusto. This mare took names and kicked ass, Marishka decided. She liked her. A booming voice was hardly unexpected from her, but what Semiramis said to whomever listened made Marishka’s head snap up in excitement. A direwolf had been in the oasis, fighting horses, and she had missed it! “You’re kidding?” her voice was a delicate whisper. Now was when the limping and open wounds clicked. Marishka had missed one hell of a fight.

Evandr cut in to her thoughts before she could finish them. His speech on banding together and fighting alongside each other was quickly tuned out. She had been alone for most of her life…why would she risk her life for someone else’s? No one had fought for her since birth. It was her, and her alone.

“What motivates us to spare another?” Mariska’s voice was a hiss on the dry desert air. “If they fall the rations are greatly increased for the rest of us. We are not a family. We are not a herd.”


ooc ➳ marishka is feisty today
words ➳ 363
tag ➳ Evandr Aishe Hex Semiramis

Tag: @[Marishka]

#8
we are the wild ones, the savages

If it hadn't of been for the wounds, Aishe's sharp wit would have cut the snake-like woman down the moment her sarcastic tone echoed across their oasis. But alas, she bit her tongue; the jenny was in no place to fight today. She would have been easy prey for the newcomer. To her relief though, Evandr seemed unfased by her harsh comments. When at last he spoke again, a single ear tilted forward to listen.

And while his words were inspiring, the mood on Aishe's shoulders was that of a defeated wounded exile who learned at a  young age what hope could do to people. Foolish hope that is; she had hope in other things, other....people.

"While you have a point" she began, eyes darting to the Warden for a flitting second or two, "Look at us. We are but stragglers. We are scavengers. And while I admire your fervor concerning the well-being of those who call the Oasis home, to what end can a mere band outcasts do?" Somewhere deep inside Aishe found the strength to stretch herself out. No longer letting pain get the best of her, she unfurled herself and stood tall (well, as tall as someone so small could) returning her gaze to Evandr. It wasn't challengeing in the sense she wished for his power, but rather perhaps to rethink what he had said. Consider all the options, she thought, I know you can.

"What would happen if one of the Houses decided to eradicate us all? We are nothing but flies to them anyway. How do you propose a group like us to defend against a well-trained military? Let alone what ever beasts decide to enter the wastes." She holds back a shudder at the thought of another Direwolf attack. Aishe had seen many things, but that--that topped the list of 'weirdest shit I've come across in my life'.


image
Evandr Marishka Hex
Tag: @[Aishe]

#9
they are there, hovering nervously.
you will watch the skies. you will wait.
It'd been nearly a year since he'd last met with the Warden. Of course, there had been other instances where Tauro had seen him, but only from a distance that neither had apparently cared enough to cross. The brute still stood just as tall as he remembered, a piebald coat of amaranthine shinning beneath a sheen layer of sweat as the sun bared down on the oasis. His mass was purely built from muscle, and Tauro both admired and detested him for it. The bully stallion had never felt a surge of jealousy towards anyone, but to Evandr, he was envious.
Tauro rarely dwelled on his short stature, but when in the company of giants, it was hard not to. It was easier to crush the shallow insecurity when he was a guardian and his power was yet matched, but here, in this new and challenging world where his magic was suppressed, there was little that could be done against someone like the Warden.
Wintery eyes, a stark contrast to their surroundings, moved on to the next few faces in the slow gathering crowd. Out of those currently present, he recognized only one. She was much like an apparition, in the sense that he'd only ever seen her at the dead of night. He'd tried to approach her on a few occasions, simply out of curiosity if nothing else, but she always somehow managed to evade him. From this close, however, he could make out the vibrant hue of amethyst eyes and the faux stitch work decorating her maw.
The mare stood as far back as possible, but perhaps, not the farthest. On the outskirts of their little gathering, wading in the cool waters of the oasis, rested a colorfully painted grullo. His eyes appeared glossy, giving Tauro the impression that the young fellow might not be feeling up to par. He tried to catch his eye, to offer a reassuring nod of his head, but the grullo would not meet his gaze. That's when he saw them, the puncture wounds splayed across his chest. Frowning, he glanced back at the Warden with question, but found that Evandr and the delicate mare nearest to him, both shared the same torn and reddened skin.
Now that he'd seen the damage, he had a pretty good idea about the Warden's intentions for this impromptu meeting. His curiosity peaked, he focused his attention on the exile wrangler with the flick of silver and white ears, but before Evandr could begin, another equine, cloaked in black, strode in. Her voice was low, almost gravelly, and her words caused a crinkle in his brow. He nearly snorted at her degrading comment about his height but settled for a cool glare instead. The whole situation was nearly laughable.
Really, what did she hope to achieve by trying to dredge up the past?
Evandr hardly paid her any mind, carrying on without even missing a beat. At the quick mention of a dire wolf attack, Tauro hummed in acknowledgment, forming a link to the trio's heated wounds.
There was little time to mull over the rest of his speech, the voices of two distinctly different mares biting at the tense air just as soon as he'd concluded. Neither cared for what the Warden posed, which irritated Tauro. Stomping a cloven hoof, the action striking up a small plume of dust and grime, he let his mouth run wild. "The Warden is our protector, our buffer from the outside world. What do you predict will happen should he fall while trying to defend us?" His voice was accented and out of place among the natives of the Valley. He wasn't yet used to their language, but the words still rolled off of his tongue with ease.
Pausing to rest his cold, icy orbs on the piebald woman with lilac eyes, his lips turned up into a sort of lopsided grin, but it was feigned. "I'm sure you'd put up quite the fight there sweetheart, but I'd much rather stand with the Warden against this threat than to cower out in the wastes, wondering when death will finally decide to come for me."

Evandr, Aishe, Marishka, Semiramis, and Hex • Sorry for his lack of an actual entrance. Just pretend he sauntered in before Semiramis!
Tag: @[Tauro]

#10
Semiramis

"I have one thousand arrows to blot out your sun"

He paid her no attention, but this did nothing to deter Semiramis.

If anything, it only spurred her on more.

Finishing her own thorough examination of the newest Warden, she returned to the crowd for a brief moment, continuously moving between what few had gathered. Snake-like, slithering, careful eye on the hulking beast that was Evandr. As she past the boy who spoke last, Semi flicked her small tail in hopes of rapping the matted strands across his hind end, anything to make him unsettled--to make them all unsettled. It was the words of the demoness that caught her attention the most, however, and Semiramis slithered her way to the mare's side.

A smile pulled back her tattered, scarred lips; "I like you," Semiramis started, breaking her gaze with Evandr to wink at the female at her side. "You seem to be one of the few who have some sort of sense here".

Taking a few bold steps forward, Semiramis walks past the Warden perhaps barely able to brush against the rough skin of his shoulder to take her leave. And yet, before she does, the sand-shark stops as if suddenly remembering she had more to say. For a moment Semi stands facing the horizon, but turns to glance over her shoulder with the same cocky grin as before. The femme almost laughs at their size, their defeated stares but refrains. She knows she has stepped on enough toes as it was.

But what was one more nail in her figurative coffin?

"Should any of you tire of playing 'house', you can come find me in the desert. I am sure there are some among you tired of this pointless charade; New Warden, same old problems. But I can show you what organization is with out comprising the self, my 'fellow' Exiles. You should learn to take a bit more pride in the individual."  Her gaze lingered for just a moment on the purple-eyed haunt, before snorting out a chortle. "I'll be waiting."

With out so much as a second glance, Semiamis turned and headed off into the sun and sand.

template by soupi

Evandr Marishka Tauro Hex good lord i dont even know she writes herself most of the time. she diggin on marishka tho oops.
Tag: @[Semiramis]

#11
Hex inched closer despite his better judgement, the water coming nearly to his chest as he did. His pale gaze swept across the others that stood around the oasis, though still he refused to make eye contact with any of them. A shiver ran down his spine as the warden began to speak and he turned his attention on him. While his eyes did not fall directly on Evandr they did seek a rock in the distance. One ear was flicked back against the matted mess he called a mane while the other was pointed in his leader's direction. Despite his refusal to look it was clear from the expression on his face that Hex was enraptured by Evandr's words, though it was a fleeting look. He blinked far more than natural while suppressing the urge to look directly at the great beast that he so clearly looked up to. He remembered the way Evandr had charged into battle. It had been so inspiring Hex had leaped into the fray without so much as a thought.

Though it would seem not all shared his same sentiment and Hex flinched as a frown gathered across his lips as the others began to speak. He wanted nothing more than jump to the warden's aid, though he believed Evandr was more than capable of handling himself. Hex would be lying if he said he didn't hope to grow up to be as strong in body and mind as their leader. Though it seemed not all disagreed with Evandr, which was a relief. As Semiramis left, Hex turned his head slightly to catch her hoof prints in his gaze though he still would not look directly at her.

Breathe, Hex, breathe.

Swallowing loudly, Hex took another step forward in the oasis. He lifted his head, turning it to face Evandr head on but focused instead on the warden's legs. It was clear he was struggling with something and his skin twitched along his wiry frame. Closing his eyes, Hex exhaled a deep breathe before finally raising his gaze to Evandr's. "I stand with you, warden." Hex adjusted his stance in the water, lowering his gaze once again and arching his lean neck in the position of a respectful soldier. He was the exile of exiles...but he didn't want to be.

 Evandr  Marishka  Aishe  Tauro  Semiramis








image credit

Tag: @[Hex]

#12

Evandr

A natural split occurred between the exiles, just as nature produced splits in every facet of life; light and dark, prey and predator, cold and hot. In Evandr a split occurred. In some facets, he was proud that these plateaued wastes hadn't broken them entirely, that they still had some sense of self, still felt wronged and angered because of the life that was forced upon them. Anger and resentment spoke of their willingness to live. And who could blame them for their disagreement? In what twisted world did he expect that all of them would see eye to eye, to band together, to think themselves as neighbors rather than mouths that may eat their food?

But Evandr was also angered. If they'd all been here as long as he had - for he was not ignorant and knew others had survived for years here and were born here - they should have known that this oasis' resources were not for the one but the many. Had he not fought for them? Usurped the one who had pillaged their only salvation from them and abused of all the women? Had he not gave them this utopia in the desert, protected by the lava pools that very well could have seared their flesh, and allowed everyone to drink from the pools and eat from the plump vegetation? A shadow darkened Evandr's face as his glare bore into the stitch faced mare. She had obviously forgotten what it had been like beneath the tyrannical hoof of Saren. And of all, he had anticipated support from the wee Aishe but his ears snapped to her questions first before his sapphire eyes darted to her.

Surprisingly, he remained quiet and still. Evandr had a temper, he wouldn't deny it, because that'd be one hell of a lie. But he refused to stoop to the level of the stallion he'd slain to provide for the very equine that would have been denied sustenance. But still he would remain. Because they all deserved a voice no matter what had banished them to the sands.

From the back a familiar face, albeit fleeting one, approached. He was the first true individual to speak, and oh... did Tauro have a lot to say. But his platform was stolen from him quickly by the black snake that had slithered in from the dark sands. Evandr's glare shot towards her when the first toxic word slipped from her lips, knowing full well from her arrival that she meant ill will towards whatever feeble construction of unity and order he'd made here. While others Wardens may have found her biting words in warrant of an immediate beating, but Evandr stayed his hooves. Rather his brow furrowed further, darkening the sweat beaded lines of his face. But something did react. Something in him clicked, as if engaging. He thought these people needed a savior. But it seemed that they would need a far more direct ruler - one that offered consequences for their actions.

Before retaliations or preaches could fall from his mouth, another pushed forward. The small boy who'd helped them ward off the dire wolf. Evandr watched him as he waded through the pool, his brewing fires within for the time dampened. He inched forward, quiet as ever, before finally coming to a halt some length before him. And, for once, the boy looked him in the eye. Evandr held the stare for a moment, even after the youth looked down. Two. Two of four. Again his gaze swept them, calculative but forbidding. He supposed it was his turn now.

"Yes, by all means," his voice rumbled to life, almost in a growl, "If you wish to act like fools and forget that this is the only place that can offer you what you need to survive, then go." The final word dropped like cannon fire. If he hadn't some empathy perhaps he'd allowing a bit of daring to slip into his tone. "Apparently we can't handle a Warden like Saren and now it seems we also cannot thrive beneath benevolence either." He lets another pause fall, not because he is looking for dramatics, but because he has some apprehension to what he has to say. He promised his mother a better life and wasn't able to give it to her. In some twisted way Evandr had through if he could provide for these exiles he'd mend that broken part of his heart. He supposed it meant tough love, if necessary. "You can drink here because I killed the Warden who didn't let you. You can eat here because everyone who had denied you those rights has been slain or chased away. And now you wish to fight over it like children?" His tone never rises, but rather remains as casual as if he was addressing them all privately over a far less serious matter. "I want nothing but to protect you all from the dangers that do threaten us - including the Valley," his visage nods towards Aishe, "and we are vastly unprepared only because it seems we want to wallow in our self pity rather than stand behind each other and do what we need to do to remedy that situation. But if you refuse, I cannot help you. Nor will I." His darkened gaze flicks to Semiramis' back. "Leave, and you will not be allowed back without personal allowance from myself."


Tag: @[Aishe], @[Hex], @[Marishka], @[Semiramis]
WC: 900
Muse: 3.5/5 whoops
OOC: mic drop (dammit evandr this is vastly different then what i wanted jfhglkjhglsf)

powerplay allowed
within reasonable limits!

Tag: @[Evandr]

#13
Annoyance wasn’t strong enough to describe how Marishka felt at this shitshow of a meeting.

While originally she had not minded the glances from the others, it was now that they were saying their peace that Marishka rolled her eyes. The only one that seemed to understand was the ebon beauty across the way. The others were just liability. The short brute that spoke to Marishka directly brought a smirk to her face. Who was he to show his peacock feathers to the warden? The leather and lace girl lowered her neck and flipped her ears back, and with one fluid motion, spit in his direction.

Straightening her crown with a swift shake of her mane, she turned her attention to the black beauty. I like you echoed softly like a heartbeat in her ears. Who could like Marishka? The foul attitude girl had rarely made acquaintances rather than enemies. Marishka listened to Semiramis with intrigue, but as soon as she had started she had stopped. Her large tank of a body turned to leave, but Evandr’s booming voice stole the show.

Another smirk formed against Marishka’s stitched lips. An airy laugh escaped her lips. Evandr should have known when a lady could be told what and what not to do. Her legs lifted from her position and she sassily sauntered to Semi’s side. Looking back, she caught eyes with the Warden.

Mariska stopped just before the edge of the entrance of the oasis. Her tail raised in such a mischievous way, and a wry chuckle escaped her lips. ”Promise?”

And with that, Marishka took off into the desert without so much of a goodbye.


➳ tag: Evandr Aishe Hex Semiramis Tauro
➳ words: 273
➳ ooc: i am so sorry for marishka
html by papaya | manip by charlie--x
[Image: ArIMJb.png]
powerplay allowed within reason
always tag!
@[Marishka]
Tag: @[Marishka]

#14





"IF ONLY, IF ONLY," THE WOODPECKER SIGHS,

"THE BARK ON THE TREE WAS AS SOFT AS THE SKIES."

WHILE THE WOLF WAITS BELOW, HUNGRY AND LONELY, 

CRYING TO THE MOON, "IF ONLY, IF ONLY."
 



How quickly things fell apart for the Warden. 

Tauro could scarcely believe the tenacity of these fools. It was outrageous the things they were saying, what they implied with their bold actions. Besides himself, there was only one other who sided with Evandr. It was the young boy who stood out in the pool, though he had moved forward now as he addressed the Warden. Although he was glad for the shying colt’s bravery, Tauro doubted the two of them would make any difference in Evandr’s eyes when everyone else stood so firmly against the man.

The sharp noise of someone clearing their throat caught his attention, and he turned just in time to catch the piebald mare he’d acknowledged as ‘sweetheart’ a short while ago, reel back and spit at him. At first, he didn’t know how to react. Were the exiles truly as savage as this? A single brow quirked, he began to laugh, a deep vibrating sound in the back of his throat, "how childish of you." He remarked, far more amused with the action than he probably should have been, but honestly, his patience had already worn thin and he didn’t particularly care for the antics of these wild women anymore.

Then came the snake.

Tauro watched as the serpent-like mare slithered amongst them, winter blues sharp and dark with warning. He glared openly and fiercely, a cool fire burning there in his eyes. His harks drawn back into his mess of a mane, he snorted at the woman as she slid past him, velvets lifting into a sneer. He dared her to try him – and she did just that. It was only a short slap of her tail upon his haunches, but the berating gesture struck him like a match to gasoline. Of course, he knew what she was about. Knew her motivations behind her actions - or at least, he thought he knew.

She only wanted to rile him, to greedily chip away until she’d finally drawn out that much-anticipated response she so desperately seemed to desire. But Tauro wasn’t like most. He didn’t play into anyone’s mind games, and he was no one’s gods damned toy. Without warning, he kicked out at her, crown raised and teeth bared. "Fuck off of me you parasite!" The bullish stallion bellowed after her quickly retreating back. She was spouting treason as she went, sweeping back out across the dunes with the piebald mare swift to follow after her.

"Cunt." He muttered under his breath. If it was a fight this bitch was after, she’d sure as shit get one. 

It would seem that Tauro wasn’t the only one ready to blow his top. Evandr was fuming now too as he began to address them all again, and rightfully so. Once the man had finished, the last of his speech, a warning to them all, the gray and white bull stepped forward to gain his leader's attention. "I’m sorry for the way things ended here, but know that you have my support." He nodded his head subtly, respectfully. "May not seem like much, but I was a soldier. Born and raised, and I’ve known war, real war." A smile touched his lips, but it was pained as memories of years passed eagerly stroked at his mind. Memories of the temple. Memories of his life as a guardian. Memories of Morticia. "If you need help or if you’d like to set up a perimeter, send word to me and I will come." Then he added as an afterthought, shrugging, "nothing better to do anyway."



@Exiles + This is terrible and I apologize... but also Tauro is literally - "these bitches got issues, but they ain’t know I’m the hulk"
"Tauro speaks"


art by bright-button
Tag: @[Tauro]