Character OTS


Björn & Lirr

Couple OTS

Private ✵ aurora


Settling into Ambrosius hadn't necessarily been difficult. Well... settling anywhere for Skaug had never been difficult. He was a man of his own devices, better left to wander around on his own whims and survey the land without guidance than to be restrained and bent to fit the mold of needs. So when disaster struck the heartland of the northern realm Skaug had unfortunately fallen victim to his solitary lifestyle.

Plagued by another sleepless night Skaug had set his hooves to the snow laden sod in an aimless march. Nightmares were all that met him when his eyes did manage to close and rest became him and posed with the option to pick between the two he always elected for wake. At least here the screams couldn't reach him nor had he pushed himself to the brink so that the images that hid behind his lids bled into reality. If and when that happened? He wasn't sure there would be saving himself. So march it was... until day break where at least the temperatures would rise a fraction. But now, bear cloak pulled tightly around him with his major set of wings, the hessian set his nose to the snow and huffed away. He wasn't sure how far he'd wandered, much long the line he'd drawn in the snow was, nor where he'd really come to find himself. All he knew was that a crack split the pleasantly clear skies (which hadn't been so in some time) asunder.

Immediately he came to a halt, his harks attentive betwixt his crown of horns, and his quad-quartz gaze keen as they peered through the trees. As the dull echo of the first tear faded into the night, the stillness of the forest came into focus. Trepidation surmounted within him as his investigations swept through the trees, form pivoting this way and that. Even in the short time he'd spent here, and through the mainly sleepless nights, Ambrosius was always bustling. Herds of elk and deer littered the woods at all hours, wolves sometimes howled in the twilight, and the trees were always alive with some sort of avian chorus. But tonight? Despite that bone shattered crack the north had fallen quiet. It reminded him of aftermaths on battlefields; eerie, suspended, and anticipating. A shuddering breath escaped his nostrils in a brume of grey as another fresh series of cracks tore through the midnight sky.

Suspicion ran Skaug's blood cold. Compelled to protect, and knowing that the crashing echoes of those cracks didn't bode benelovent intent upon the Ambrosius people, Skaug threw open his coat as all four of his wings unfurled. With a leap he was air born, his feathered appendages wheeling powerfully to quickly elevate him. With his head tucked as tightly to his chest as equinely possible, the brute burst through the canopy of the wood and what met him captured his breath. A plume of white descended from the high Fjalltindr peaks above. Entire acres of land fell beneath the sheets of alabaster as it tore through the trees and shook the very atmosphere. He could feel the power in his bones, even from the distance, even from the elevation. Without further delay, he tore through the sky with the intent to return to the Ambrosius people. Others were already airborne - the silhouette of another buzzed along the treetops, their voice uncomprehendable as it fell beneath the crushing weight of the avalanches roar.

Skaug would have chosen to pursue that stranger, to regroup with the masses, and offer whatever aid he could to help preserve the Ambrosius denizens. But his eyes were caught as he rounded the mountain, racing the plummeting veil of snow. Amaranthine sparkles glinted in the otherwise pristine moonlight, and his gaze immediately followed it. An experienced guardian, his mind's eye manifested a phantom image of the starlit mare he'd come to know by acquaintance and now resided in these very mountains. When she'd come to Ambrosius, he had walked with her, because despite the wings upon her withers she could not fly. Dammit. his mind cursed, wings snapping to his sides as his body wasted no further time leaping into action. Careening through the mountain air, his premonitions were proven correct as her frantic, frazzled form rushed along some of the wooded outcroppings. Skaug wagered a glance above to his own horror. The snow was nearly upon the both of them. White powder swirled in the air, and a rush of air at the front of the collapse buffeted his flight. But he had no other choice.

Like a bolt loosed from a crossbow Skaug shot through the treeline with unintelligible words of warning escaping his lips as he fumbled to a landing. The first jets of snow arched overhead, tumbling not on top of them but over them - the cliff was so thin, and the power so immense as it leapt from the other one above, that just maybe, just perhaps... There wasn't time to think, only to act. Massive in comparison to her petite, lithe form Skaug pushed Sariel against the frozen crag wall, "You have to trust me!" bellowed against the roaring avalanche. Wings spread he shielded her against the now quaking weight the mountain side with his own body. Though the feathers themselves had little strength, he cast the flight appendages about them like a bubble, and tucked his own visage into the down and over her as he pressed himself against the cold stone, and closed his eyes.

Around them the world shattered and shuddered. Streams of white powder slipped through his feathers, evident by the icy tendrils they left along his hide. In his chest his heart raced, beating furiously against the surrounding cage as fear - real, unfiltered fear - flooded him.

And as quickly as it had come... it was over.

The ground beneath his hooves no longer bucked, but quivered, and he let the first sliver of his quartz gaze open. Fluffy down snow collected along his legs, deeper than before, and a sheet of it fell from his wings as the lowered. He took a step away from her, bidding a quick glance to assess she lacked injuries, before turning back to the mountain side. Trees hung along the cliffs, some ripped from higher above or discarded further below. Chunks of stone and mounds of frozen snowfall were vacant, leaving only the residual film of powder that happened to land on their outcropping. Beneath his fur cloak Skaug's dorsal quivered as adrenaline coursed through his veins. Words failed him now more than ever as he witnessed the absolute destruction only several minutes of calamity had caused. A drunken step drew him closer to the edge as he dared a glance down, where thick drifts of snow still rode the zephyrs in the air and a thick blanket of death lay upon the lands below. By the gods...

W C: 1,551
T A G: Sariel
V O I C E: Jeffery Dean Morgan
M U S E: 5/5
O O C: whoops my hand slipped
powerplay allowed
within reasonable limits!
Tag: @[Skaug]


Another sleepless night

Am I cursed to bear these terrors for the remainder of my days?

A huffed breath spreads a hazy fog from twin nostrils to drift lazily towards the heavens. Sparkling eyes follow its path with a bitter amusement that twists starlit lips into a grimacing mimicry of a smile. ”Heaven.” The word is a sneer, a scoff, and her disbelief in such a fantasy is clear. A harsh bark of laughter breaks the silence that follows the angrily spoken word. Yes, she knows the depths of her soured attitude towards all things ‘holy’ or ‘spiritual’ and she knows that it should not be given a foothold in her thoughts...but after the experiences thrust upon her; there are moments when she does not think there will ever be enough positive to outweigh the horrors.

Sariel gingerly stretches the tight muscles of her wings, a gentle flaring of the pair together before she moves them individually in circles. The flight feathers have returned a bit, but they are slow to recover and though it irritates her to have the most reliable method of escape cut off, she is quite grateful they are growing back. A walk to clear my thoughts. She shifts from under the boughs of snow laden trees, keeping her hind legs planted a moment to stretch the healed tendons across the backs of her upper legs. The scars will always be there, but her body has proven resilience once again to take whatever chaos life flings in her direction and mend the damage. At least the physical wounds. The thought is another dose of a bitter pill, but this time she does not indulge the simmering anger. She looks to the skies and blocks out visions of a celestial plane to focus on the twinkling stars that her pelt mimics.

It helps ground her and clear away the darker thoughts in hopes of gaining an additional hour or two of rest. The tactic does not always work, but combined with a walk set to a brisk pace, she has greater success. The night is a frozen wonderland, ice coating each branch while flakes lazily fall when the wind shifts their resting places on various pines. Another puff of warm air greets the chilled air and she turns away from the beauty of the terrain to turn her attention to clearing her thoughts entirely. Think of the happier moments. Flickers of memories dance in front of her mind’s eye, Anduit and Arihari drawing her out the frightened shell of a girl she had become. The care they took to clean her wounds and prove they meant only to help her...without demanding a return on their investment.

It took months for her to be willing to share even marginal bits of her story and even then, she glossed over it to protect them from the reality of her torturous life. Naturally, Anduit saw through her facade but did not press her and left her in Ari’s capable hands; the god knew that smaller male would be able to draw her out easier than him. A small curvature transforms her features as the affection she feels for both men swirls in her chest. Yes, this is what I needed. She comes to a precipice, an outcrop of thin trees and craggy rocks, and allows lavender eyes to close for a minute to better picture their features smiling at her in pride and fondness.

A relieved breath stutters in her chest at the first resounding crack. Violet eyes fly open, fear clearly visible in every pore. ”What in the wor-” The murmured words cut themselves off as she sees a pale flood of snow racing toward her. With a cry of sheer terror and alarm, she turns and races back into the shelter of the trees. Panic builds obscuring her focus and she nearly trips in her haste to escape. Recovering quickly she is tempted to peer over her shoulder, but she does not, the pulse beating furiously in her ears serves as a reminder that there is no time. She needs shelter and fast. Come on, there must be something! Her thoughts a mass of jumbled options that crop up and are immediately discarded; the vast majority involving that which she cannot

The sound deafens her and she does not hear the man until he is suddenly next to her. Touching her. The surprise of the contact has her baring her teeth, even as he pushes her right side against the cave wall. A snarl longs to spring free but a habit borne of self-preservation forces it back and violet lips close over porcelain teeth. Skaug? The actions of pressing down on her immediate anger allows her to quickly realize the brute is the soft-spoken man who walked with her to these lands. Sariel feels his wings enclose her against the rock wall, and despite the fear lashing at her, she is calm enough to properly think. The howling snow is merciless in its descent and a new kind of fear encourages her to lift her left wing to wrap around the base of his neck; holding him to her.

His words are not lost in the raging typhoon of powder and ice, but she not reply to it. She does not trust him, she trusts no one except for the two who saved her. ”Thank you.” Her words are quiet, breathless, but audible as the timing coincides with the decline in the avalanche. In the stillness that follows, her limbs begin to shake as adrenaline fades and she finds herself leaning into Skaug’s chest just a bit. He steps back and she recognizes the flash of hurt for what it is; rejection. She is not surprised that he would not prolong an embrace, she may not trust him, but she has no reason to believe he holds any interest in her. No, the rejection stinging fragile emotions is merely a reaction to their situation and how she longs for Anduit to wrap her in a reassuring hug while Airhari teases her hair into behaving.

His stuttering step sends her lurching forward, alarmed that he may fall, but she internally laughs at herself. Not everyone lacks flight. Clearing her throat, she softly expresses her gratitude, ”Thank you, Skaug. I--I do not think I would have survived had you not arrived when you did.” She dips a starlit muzzle to him before moving to look over the edge and fully expecting him to take flight now that the danger has passed. Anduit! The thought bursts to the forefront of her mind. She tries to think how the god may have survived this and immediately takes an unsteady step toward the edge contemplating leaping into the fray, ”I have to find him!” The words are spoken anxiously and unconsciously but she finds herself scanning the area for any sign of her armored friend.


Powerplay within reason permitted!
Sariel is a broken girl with severe PTSD; she suffers from flashbacks and extreme terror in any social situation.
Tag: @[Sariel]


Columns of heavy brume rose from the shuddering breaths raking his sides. They were not the gasps of a man who was fatigued nor a man defeated, but quakes of disorientation. They spoke of surmounting terror, surprise, alarm, urgency. They spoke of disbelief and of wonder, both toeing the fine line that had the stallion wavering weightlessly. Another tremor rippled through his lungs, another fresh plume of silvery smoke rose from his lips, and another moment he steeled to try and reconstruct his composure. It was by no trial of his own part that he was brought back from the shock but the low, cooing of the starlit Sariel. A scarred audit flicked to her expressed gratitude, his visage following it some moments after, so that his disconcerting quartz gaze blinked at her. Where his visionaries peered seemed a mystery, less someone peered closely to see the faint, nearly indiscernible light marble of his pupils and iris. Knowing she was well and safe was all the justification he needed, but the genuine appreciation always warmed him. Very little had his free services - the compelling nature of his very core - gone acknowledged. But he wasn't a man who expressed himself well, if at all.

There is a moment where the stress, the adrenaline, flashes a snapshot from minutes before; clinging to one another and the cliff, a mess of downy wings, stitched with the embrace of desperation. It was warm, signified now more so than before with its absence. "No need for it," his voice is restrained, murmuring, as if afraid the mountain may fall on them again if he were to raise it. "Happy to have done it." He only realized now that his breath is steadying. She'd successfully pulled him from the pressure from his own anxiety. He supposed he should thank her, but he already felt foolishly outspoken. His leonine tail lashed, dragging shallow grooves into the soft powder of snow, as he watched her approach the edge. There was a scrutiny in his eyes. The mantle of an adrift bystander was shed and replaced with the stalwart armaments of an unyielding protector. His gaze dropped, mentally measuring the distance of her hooves from the all-too-distrustful cliff, before they popped up back to her starry visage.

He'd have trusted her not to fall, but when he witnessed the widening of his eyes and the alarm that flooded her he himself tensed. Rightfully so, as she seemed eager to leap and attempt to fly on her still mangled wings. Instantly Skaug's wings unfurled, once again throwing back his bear cloak pelt, and lacerated the atmos just before her, barring her from proceeding. The initial response to protect, save, preserve had temporarily drowned out her exclamation. It wasn't until Skaug was certain she wouldn't clamor over or through his wings (and dared her to try) that he processed the strained vocals. "Him?" he questioned, umber brow furrowing so that his pelt pimpled and bunched unhandsomely around the bear claw scars on his face. But the thought died before he could trail it, and the query became as simple as that - the need for context. "I'll help you, but you can't do jumping off cliffs."

W C: 536
T A G: Sariel
V O I C E: Jeffery Dean Morgan
M U S E: 3/75/5
O O C: ...
powerplay allowed
within reasonable limits!
Tag: @[Skaug]