Fimbulvetr

Poppy

Character OTS

OTS 1
OTS 2

Aishe & Evandr

Couple OTS


Open Wild Ones

#1
we are the wild ones, the savages

He had been right, to a point. But that didn't mean she couldn't disagree, right?

It had been the first time they'd been called together like that--did the Warden just expect everything to go off with out a hitch? That each and everyone of them would have been okay with the other? They were outcasts, murderers, unjustly castaways, rapists, disgraced noblemen, and savages; each with distinct and in some cases, dominant, personalities. Not to mention, Aishe hadn't known any of their names save for Evandr's himself.

With a grunt, a grimace and a glace--the jenny had left the gathering with a limp in her walk. She was tense, agitated at everything, annoyed with the fever in her veins. The cool of night brought some comfort, but it would be a long time before she felt herself again, she guessed. Aishe had found her place on the outskirts of the oasis, content on watching the dust dance under relatively clear starlight.

For a moment the jenny is able to breathe deep, and calm the never-ceasing irritation that seemed to intensify with anger. Her mind wanders back to the meeting, recalling the faces of the Exiles. They were so few in number than the first time she'd seen them all--a horde of them at the oasis it seemed, towering over the baby Aishe like mountains. They were gods, they were demons; it had been the first time Aishe had ever seen their kind. In the skirmish of Evandr's coup, many had perished--and she assumed many had perished after when they'd been driven to the dunes never to be seen again. Of course there were a few stragglers, as the wound on her shoulder would tell you, but Aishe feared them not--not anymore.

With a sigh, hardy legs carry her forward down the rocky outcrop. Following the same trail as she'd done in the past, the jenny hardly needed to pay attention to where she was headed. On the far side of the Oasis, past most of everything there sat a lonesome tree. At the base of the palm was a small pile of stones, smooth, likely taken from the waters of the Oasis and the igneous rocks of the Vulkan lands. It was here that Aishe retreated when she needed guidance, when she missed the person who'd birthed her.

Much of her early life it had been Aishe and her mother. They were inseparable, the young jenny followed the woman closely as her mother warned of the dangers that lurked in the sands. She couldn't call them better times, for what was better about wandering aimlessly across the desert? But there was a certain nostalgia she could not deny--aimed at the lack of her first companion. A soft smile pulled back her tired lips, and the jenny managed to get to her knees again, buckling them under her bodice.

"It's been awhile, mother" she found herself unable to be quiet, hoping that wherever her mother's spirit had gone it could hear her. As a babe, lonely, a slave to her superiors, Aishe had taken comfort in being able to speak to such a ridiculous thing as this pile--but it was this place that gave her strength.



Evandr OPEN  i dont know this ended up being something different than i set it out to be oops. but i lost my thunder there at the end rip.
Tag: @[Aishe]

#2


☩ E V A N D R ☩

The meeting had been a sham if there ever was one. Since the day he had felled Saren and taken the mantle of Warden in the Wastes he'd thought himself as successful as any other before him. The exiles had ample sustenance to survive thanks to breaking the chains that had bunkered the Oasis but still this sharing of resources failed to unify the people he'd sought (and fought) so hard to provide for. And could he blame them? Their life was hellish, even he'd admit it. They weren't wrong that the Oasis could only supply so many hungry mouths. But where water gurgled from the deep streams, greenery must grow, right? So there would always be more ferns, more vegetation to replace that which is consumed... at least, Evandr hoped.

Despite having not exerted himself in the waking hours, as twilight settled upon the wastelands Evandr found a hitch in his step along his hinds. The precious tears in his flesh that had nearly stretched to his groin were pulsating with an ache, the scabs cracking and beading with fresh life's fluid. What was worse, the infected punctures along his dorsal were festering despite the balm winds. Every bob of his visage and thusly his nape with the limp had his skin prickling with discomfort. It hurt to move, but he was tired of remaining still. So he cast his eyes to the plateaus, climbed them despite the protest of his very flesh, and cast himself out to the sands. Some straggling trees remained high on this "second story" of the wastes, but they were infrequent. They offered a visual though, and while his visage hung uncharacteristically low, his sapphire gaze snapped to the first lone, resilient tree as it spiraled towards the starlit sky.

And wouldn't you fucking know it... she was there. The jenny caught his gaze more so than the tree after realizing she sat below it's shadows, and for several strides the behemoth saw nothing but the gentle arch of her neck or flick of her tail. Within his gut coiled, almost uncomfortably, and in his mind's eye a vision of himself burrowing his face into her shoulder blinked through the numb memories of the previous hours. A snort shot through his nostrils and he vigorously shook his head. What was he thinking? It made him no better than Saren or the rest of his lot. Mind unsullied and distracted, his visage seemed to descend lower, cast in a shroud of his sunbleched mane. He couldn't look at her now, and cast his vision upon the summits in the far distance.

Once his hind spasmed, the pain from his lacerations extending through a web of pain down to his hoof, and he halted. Teeth gritting beneath his salmon muzzle, a shadowed and angered glare shot through the veil of his midnight forelock. Would nothing go his way? Had he fallen so far from his ideal self that he couldn't take a walk? He recalled the time where he'd forced Aishe to lay still, to heal, to rest... but he had no time, he immediately chastised. And again, his lumbering strides carried him forward, mind brooding through his impure thoughts, into the sands.


W C: 537
T A G: Aishe
M U S E: 5/5
O O C: All aboard the SS Aishandr!

powerplay allowed
within reasonable limits!

Tag: @[Evandr]

#3
we are the wild ones, the savages

Her mother had always told her there were more than the basic 5 sense; that if one opened their mind limits were broken and lines became blurred. It was in these moments that Aishe remembers her mother saying such, for the fur on the back of her neck stood on end and a distinct buzzing feeling alerted her to another's presence. Vibrant eyes shot up from the memorium only to catch the ever distinctive silhouette of the Warden himself off in the distance. For a moment--she almost swears their eyes locked--and while she had half expected him to come closer, he instead turned and headed into the sands.

Something in Aishe snapped; not the kind that broke in anger, but the kind that broke in empathy. Breathing deep the jenny turned her visage to the headstones for her mother's memory, tattered muzzle gently brushing against them as if to tell the spirit she hoped dwelled within of her future return Aishe felt the need to follow suit, if only to make amends for the lack-luster meeting hours prior.

Taught legs carried the jenny swiftly across the sands--feather-light in their graces across the dusty earth the exertion is only herladed by the soft thud of her hooves. Regardless, it takes effort to reach the Warden, as his strides easily equaled many of hers, but when at last the jenny knew she was within earshot, her voice fell from tattered lips; "Evandr"

It felt like the first time she'd ever called him by name--and something in her stirred at the way the syllables fell from her lips like honey. In fact, so shocked was she by the surge of butterflies in her abdomen, Aishe didn't finish her thought right away. For a moment, Aishe stood blinking, only to become self-aware at her awkward pause.

"I....I wanted to apologize." Her tones were cool as the night air around them, long ears folding back as she thought over her words. "At the gathering, I let my own fear determine my thoughts. I know you meant well--and you still do." She sighed, head low as she moved her tiny legs forward wanting to stand in his presence again; Aishe is reminded of his touch, the way he had sat with her when he could have kept on going--but no, he had stayed and he had wanted her to survive. It had been the first time since her mother's passing that anyone had shown her such a kindness. And in truth, it was hard for Aishe to comprehend the depth of what she felt now.

It was like staring into a muddy pool.

"Give them some time" She almost whispered it. "Saren was a monster, it's hard not to assume anyone who takes his mantle isn't one as well."

By now Aishe was able to see the aftermath of the wolf attack. The jenny bore similar tears and wounds, and even a few like himself had festered with the heat and sands. Pink trailed over each one, even those that had faded with time from other battles she'd never heard about, until her's sought the sapphire of Evandr's gaze. As if she had no control over her own expression, Aishe's tattered lips pulled back in a gentle smile before she reached out and nudged the flesh of his front leg. "But, I know you're not one. And I don't know if you realize what a comfort that really is."

And there, before the keeper of the wastes, Aishe felt her most raw. She kept her emotions under hard lock and key, survival being her primary objective. But she'd be lying if she said that being in his presence didn't undo that just a little. Aishe couldn't decide if that was something she enjoyed or hated.



Evandr
Tag: @[Aishe]

#4


☩ E V A N D R ☩

Would he have kept going if she had not used his name? He heard her approaching along before she was upon him. Clouds of sand slipped across his honed vision - one he kept forward and dared to falter, kicked up from her petite hooves. His spasm had given her the opportune set up to catch him. That, and he wasn't pushing himself any further than he already had. But as her pace slowed and the columns of windswept sand diminished he still let his thick appendages carry him forward with little regard for where they fell. Until she used his name.

He halted then, his orbs blinking with delayed expression as the winds played with his forelock and drew it from his face. Her falter was entirely lost upon him, he too stumbling over how the syllables of his name fell from her tongue. Audits swiveled back to her, unconsciously wondering if they will catch it again while also consciously desiring it. Another blinking image of his forehead burying itself into her nape flashed before his eyes in hyper detail; he could see the folds and curves of his forelock as it bunched and gathered at their meeting, while still more hung upon the other side, as his muzzle traced down the slope of her shoulder to her chest. Thick lashes blinked away the image, or tried to, reeling his attention back in with an appropriate amount of time remaining to catch her apology. He hadn't turned to her prior but he did now, a beetle of his brow darkening the deep navy orbs set within. But it was not a pinch of ire but curiosity.

Wordlessly he attended her preachings, a silent disciple revering his superior's hymn. Give them time. His lids blinked slowly and Evandr almost forgot about the searing pain in his lower abdomen. Almost. As if the recollection was all the infections needed to rise, the ache climaxed; it was a white-hot pressure, an intensity of heat he wasn't sure he'd ever - or will ever again - feel. Was he dying? Though they had felled the dire wolf, did its haunt remain to slay him post mortem? The shadows of his face only darkened and lengthen as his jaw grit together, attempting to reconfigure the focus of his skin. He concluded his pain was obvious - her salmon and diamond eyes traced the lines of his wounds and scars, dissecting each with either a knowing, a prediction, or mystifying grace. With the moon to her dorsal, silver haloed the curves of her nape and back, even the gentle slopes of her ears. The pain remained but his body unfurled, releasing the tell-tale tension of agony. Evandr couldn't even stop the sigh of relief that burst twixt his pink velvets. Once his eyes closed, letting her gaze somehow chase away the pain, before opening them again.

Her pastel visions gazed into his oasis pair and in the moment he could do nothing but return the stare. He watched her reach out and lay her muzzle briefly upon the muscle of his foreleg, and with her touch a wave of gooseflesh rippled down his spine. He let her linger close and still he said nothing. It wasn't that he was at a loss of words or confusion, just that he wasn't entirely sure if he wanted to say anything at all. Well... there was one. After a pregnant pause had fallen between them and it seemed it would stretch for an eon more he shifted his weight (fortunately away from the prickling tear to the soft skin twixt his abdomen and hind limb) towards her. With an arch of his nape he lowered his visage down to her own - a fleeting hesitation taken only once before commitment. He let his large muzzle brush rest agains the side of her face, his sapphire eyes slowly drawing purple curtains over themselves to hide. "Aishe..." A hum reminiscent of a growl bubbled in his throat, strangled so it would not carry in the wind, and intended solely for her to hear.


W C: 680
T A G: Aishe
M U S E: 5/5
O O C: All aboard the SS Aishandr!

powerplay allowed
within reasonable limits!

Tag: @[Evandr]

#5
and in the flames, her shadows play in the shape of a man's desire

There would have been a time where such advances would have sent the jenny into a cold-stone stare into oblivion; frozen in time, mind detached from reality to soothe her body's horror, the fear, the utter abuse of the flesh many had sought to wield. But, here standing next to a tower of piebald purple, Aishe was the calmest she'd ever been. It was an odd sensation, like the warmth of a blanket on a cool desert  night. A veil of thick, gnarled hair draped across her battered body and Aishe couldn't help but let the start of an amused, flirtatiously nervous laugh bubble from the depths of her core.

For a moment, the metal pierced through the bottom lip of her snout pulled back in a genuine smile. A flick of her tail, a sigh when the laughter subsided, and the jenny found herself in a rather--what would she call it? Playful? Relaxed?--demeanor that was rare for anyone who called the oasis home. It was do or die, survive until inevitably the desert's heat claimed you and your body was swallowed in the sands--bones bleached alabaster by the sun. Here, however, all of her worries seemed to be far off and Aishe had to wonder if he knew of such a power. While the others may not have felt it, she swore the aura that radiated from the Warden was a calming one, and even if her own actions contradicted his at times, she knew now with out a doubt that he'd stand the test of time.

"Have I ever told you, I love the way you say my name?" She found herself unable to keep from brushing against his skin again--a gentle kiss of of her muzzle. "Who knew for one so mighty, your voice could be so soft"

She mused, and just like that the playfulness had found its way back into her very fiber. A gleam in gemstone eyes, a smirk that tugged the corner of her her scarred lips. She took a cluster of dark, matted hair and gave a playful tug to the Warden's mane before bolting forward in a tiny cloud of dust, giggle in throat. Her tail flicked, the few rings attached to it clanking to one another in motion glinted under the pale-moon's light. And over her shoulder, two intensely colored eyes peered back at Evandr as if to dare him--dare him to what, Aishe didn't quite know herself. The mix of girlish fun and something deeper swelled in her chest and in her stomach. Aishe let out another chuckle, at herself nonetheless for allowing herself to stoop to such a level, and yet the part that had desired her to return to the rough jenny she was silenced itself as if it simply was too tired to fight back.

With the same daring smirk she turned her head back toward the expanses, casually picking her way with a sway in her hips.

@[Evandr] welp, playful aishe is playful
Tag: @[Aishe]

#6


☩ E V A N D R ☩

One would think that the castaways of the Vetr Wasteland would have never elected for warmth again if given the chance, but here and now? A heat lingered beneath Aishe's skin that the piebald hessian wished only to experience with greater intensity. Peach nostrils drew a deep inhale of her natural perfume; stone-baked, earthy, with a faint lace of sweat that none of them could dispel if they tried. Even when the first delightful trills of laughter left her pierced lips it drew the first semblance of a smile on his own. Despite the harshness that typically cloaked her tongue, this gentler aria cleansed him of the trepidation and skepticism he'd succumbed to earlier in the day. Every gentle kiss of her velvet lips she placed upon his hide was another layer of doubt bathed away by her presence.

Any shame he'd felt for his previous thoughts too seemed to wash away with crashing flows of... he wasn't entirely sure how to describe it, or if he even wanted to waste the thought attempting to. All he desired was to be in the moment with her, with her voice, her aroma, and just her. Another deep, growling hum resonated in his throat as Aishe confessed her love for the way he spoke her name, transforming that rumble into a soft chuckle as he caressed his muzzle along her cheek, and along the edges of her jowls with added pressure - but gentle, a delicate weight that spoke his desire to be near to her. Just as he prepared to speak her name again, a lock of midnight was stolen by her lips and tugged, startling him with a flurry of heartbeats but warm intensity in his eyes as he followed her skipping image. Without hesitation - perhaps propelled by an instinct he could no longer deny - a thick piston carried him forward after her; a giant chasing after the swaying hips of a petite vixen. A grin tugged back his sun kissed velvets and his eyes burned with an intoxicating mixture of emotions; desire to have her, mischievous play he hadn't experienced since being a colt, but most importantly a gratitude that Evandr was sure only she could provide him.

Through the plume of her dust clouds he followed her, visage low as if prowl after her like some sort of predator but the simper upon his lips brimming with far too much frisk and jolly to be interpreted any other way. Beneath a saturated moonlight that painted his hide with crisp lines of pale blue and silver great strides carried him after her, unwilling to allow her to put distance between them. But what was this? So many times women had been chased through the sands out of malice, pure carnal desire to take what was wanted despite the consent of both parties. It was a familiar sight, one that was echoed in their play, but Evandr could feel in his chest it was not the same - could never be the same. The closer her drew to the delicate tinking of her jewelry his flesh seemed to burn hotter, every nerve ending firing with an electricity so complicated he still concluded now was not the time to attempt interpreting it. So he just followed her, followed the jenny as the plumes of sand at their hooves drifted into the sky together, until he eventually overcame her - for his stride was equal to several of her own - and he laid his mug to the base of her tail and drew it along her spine, careful of his speed so that he did not pass her but remained just behind the shoulder, where he hoped to remain for the remainder of the night.

Fade to black.


W C: 621
T A G: Aishe
M U S E: 5/5
O O C: MASSIVE AMOUNTS OF FLAILING

powerplay allowed
within reasonable limits!

Tag: @[Evandr]