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[Lost One Plot!] Neverland With Tinkerbell
Rogue

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 Young Adult, 2-3 yrs  Stallion
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Posted on May 16 2018, 9:03 PM. (Edited: May 17 2018, 4:05 AM by Heroin.)
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#1


Heroin





Heroes don't always wear capes


After an annoying journey down the Lunar Mountains with an equally annoying ethereal being, Heroin finally found his way to the Mystic Woodland. The ball of light that was assigned to bring him here was floating around and around him, pushing and prying to get him to the place at almost every second. The stallion could strangely feel the light’s touch whenever it got too near to his skin, and it warmed those places specifically for a short duration. Despite the ball being relentless in its pursuit, Hero had to say that he was growing to like the little thing anyways. It gave him the company that he so badly wanted before climbing upwards to meet the Lost One. It was someone to tangibly talk to, even though it was not a horse in particular. It did not necessarily have to be per se. Others had non-equine companions, why couldn’t he also? Perhaps these little lights led to and fulfilled each individual’s upmost desires? That was a thought, and one to get really excited about too. It gave Heroin hope that he had been losing sight of a bit. He had not realized it, but his spirits were dwindling low for a bit. Hero’s desire was for company, and the light was combatting that desire easily. This little thing spurring him on into some unknown land was actually beneficial. Hero was already dreading when it would have to leave him, no matter how insistent it was with him. By the time they reached the woodland, he gave the thing a new name.

And that name was Bulby.
 
“I said cut it out, Bulby, I know that you hear me now. We are getting close to the wood. See, it is just up ahead,” Heroin said, biting playfully at the air. The light whizzed out of reach of the stallion, only to get close again. It tussled Hero’s mane and slid down the bridge of his nose where the purple was. Him having a badger face meant that it was target for landing upon apparently. A happy smile turned up the corners of Heroin’s face, and his gait including a few hops along the way. Someone else might feel that this was a little childish, and that the man was not suited for the job. Surely someone more mature would not be playing around like this when something important was going on. The Lost One commissioned certain horses to do this. It was no time for play. But why not make the travel time a little fun? What was the harm in doing what he was doing? No one was hurt, and he had a friend, so what was the big deal? Aside from that, Heroin had a good start ahead of most of the others. There were only two other horses that had beat him down the mountain. He hoped that he would be cut a little slack; he needed this. Deep down in his heart of hearts, he knew that he did.

At the entrance to the woodlands, everything went quiet except for the birds. Their constant chitter chatter was a good sign that no prevailing danger was around; they would not be doing that if that was the case. But still. Hero and his little “pet” stood waiting and watching, just watching and waiting a moment. This was the moment of truth, and maybe then all would be revealed. The pieces of the puzzle could be put together to make a bigger picture. Surely he and the others could not have been led astray, right? Good things had to be within the depths of these trees, yes? Hero was having too much of a good time for things to go wrong. Betrayal was not something that he could take. The stag did not want to keep feeling down and out like he had been. He did not want to complain or blame others for anything. So when he took the first step into the purple splashed land, his heart was in his hands.

The overwhelming purple that surrounded the hybrid male made him feel at home as he walked through. It was obvious that this was his favorite color, seeing as he was purple in places, as well as gray, white, and black. In some spots of the forest, Heroin and Bulby blended in, and they almost became one with the scenery. Instead of a game of “Where’s Waldo?” it was “Where’s Hero?” The male’s indigo eyes searched to and fro for what he was looking for. It was not obvious to him in the beginning; what he saw was a normal forest and that was all. So why was he brought here? The question of the Lost One’s friends came to mind again. Who were they and what did they want to give to him exactly?
Heroin loudly called out into the trees, hoping to be heard by someone.

“Hello, anyone here?”      

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Posted on May 16 2018, 10:09 PM.
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#2

The little light that had guided Heroin soon flared up as one of the trees glimmered and moved its large branches, the many petals it had along with the tree across revealed the entrance.  But instead of an entrance, it was a wall.  The light would whirl around excitedly, as if ushering Heroin to walk around.  Even if the entrance was in sight, he could still walk around.  The moon high above the trees made the ruins seem to glow an array of colors that matched the surroundings.

Something is happening! Heroin Find the entrance and walk in before waiting for another reply~


Rogue

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Posted on May 17 2018, 4:51 AM.
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#3


Heroin





Heroes don't always wear capes


Heroin gawked slightly as the tree branch in front of him moved suddenly in a pool of shimmering light. But he had quickly learned his lesson on the mountain though, and his jaw buttoned itself up tight. And fast. He did not want to gag and almost vomit because certain little lights found it funny to plunge into his mouth without warning. He knew that trees were living things obviously. He knew that they grew from tiny seedlings in the ground into gigantic foliage that towered above him with proper care. There had to be adequate water, oxygen, and light for them to grow. And even then trees progressed ever so slowly. They reached for the sky, inching their way to be greeted by the sun’s rays in due time. They did not just randomly grow moving limbs that bent at will. Trees were indeed living, and life itself could not go on without them, but they were not that alive. That is what made Hero miscomprehend the whole thing for a second. His furred brows crinkled together on his head and his eyes blinked rapidly several times, wondering if he had seen that right. There was no one around to confirm with though, so it had to be true. It might sound a little daft to those who heard the tale later on, but it was true. The tree had moved, and his floating orb’s increased brilliance said so. The good news was was that he was going in the right direction and that nothing had took a wrong turn. Thank goodness for that.

As he was going through the woodlands, Hero had not realized that it had grown darker, and that the moon was showing above. That was strange, but still made sense to him though. The horse (if you could call it that) that contacted the group spoke of the moon, and there it was. The story they were given was still vague, but accurate enough. Everything that was said had checked out thus far with no shenanigans or traps. The stallion found the glowing area quite beautiful and his galactic indigo colored eyes admired what he saw. If he could take a permanent screenshot of the whole thing, he would have then and there. Alas it had to stay in his mind for as long as possible, and that would be all. Once its vivid colors and picturesque quality faded over time, that would be the end of it, but there was still some time yet. He would recount the story for a few months after it happened, most definitely. After standing a bit, Hero decided to move on, thinking the petals to be a cascading opening. Instead his muzzle was met with a solid formation…the wall. A grunt of embarrassment instantly was Heroin’s retort as he pinged off of it.

“What in the bloody heck was that for then?” Heroin questioned, his tail flicking briefly behind his rump. So he knew that he could not go through there, but the tree moved for him. The answer logically had to lie beneath the foliage, but where was it? Bulby seemed to be trying to attract the stallion’s attention as per usual, and Hero had to follow it. What had he missed along the way though? This time Heroin felt along the petals of flowers without bumping into the wall, but nothing specifically changed. It seemed to be solid as a…well…solid rock. He was draped with the floral scent and flowers that the tree was decorated by, but that did not do the trick. Okay, it was time to reevaluate the situation in order to move forward. There was no way that he had come all of this way to turn back. He could not look the others in the meeting in the eye if that happened. It was a slim chance that he would run into any of them at all, but there still was that chance for it to happen. Failure was not an option; this adventure was just too good to pass up. Try, try again. Something had to work. This would be so much easier with hands, or maybe even a good pair of paws. But the stag was endowed with hooves, and had to make the most of them.

Moving along the formation, Hero was freckled with the moonlight’s beams. They cast colorful shadows on his body one by one, lighting up his fur in a spectacle of colors. Not only was he indigo in certain places, but he was also a royal purple color, plum purple, and a lilac, almost pink at different times. Cool. Once or twice the man glanced over his shoulder for good measure, but he kept following the light orb, and going on the path before him. His muzzle traced along every surface he could manage until wallah! a small draft brushed over his face.

“Ah hah, there we go,” Heroin said.  

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Posted on May 17 2018, 11:01 PM.
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#4

The ruins had many flower life within with all shades of colors, but it was mostly dominated by purple purple.  The age of the ruins was shown too with much moss and greenery growing wildly.  Some bushes were growing out like hands reaching but they were harmless.  The light wisp flew up to the ceiling, making a trail of lights in a dotted line to help give light in the darkness.  It showcased a tunnel and another to the far right.  The light twinkled as if to say: Which route will you choose?

Something is happening! Heroin Time to choose which way to go and see if you succeed.


Rogue

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Posted on May 19 2018, 8:52 PM.
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#5


Heroin





Heroes don't always wear capes


The draft that hit Heroin’s face was an encouraging sign to him. It was like it was brushing his face with a welcoming touch. This had to be the right way; he would not have been led this far only to be stopped at a solid wall. This hole had to be the opening to something more. The Lost One had spoken of friends that everyone would meet along the way on the journey. Well, obviously the wall was not one of those friends who would offer him something, so he had to go further. He had to delve a little bit deeper. Hero gave another glance over his shoulder before stepping into the chasm that awaited him. Thank goodness he was not claustrophobic or afraid of the dark; that would have been like walking into the show Fear Factor. The stallion was still bathed in a bath of purple, but he was entirely okay with that. It was funny how things worked out that way for him. He could have been sent to Celadon Heights, Hellrise Gorge, or even The Pale. But instead of those he was sent to the Mystic Woodland that was more his style.

As he made his way into the opening, the stag was met with grass up to his knee and hock. He avoided the clamoring bushes the best he could, because even though they looked harmless at first, he had already witnessed the tree outside move. What was to say that the others would not too without permission? It was clear that this place did not just appear out of nowhere, but it was strange that no one else had found it yet. Or perhaps they did at one point, but they were not ready to share its secrets. Yeah, that had to be it; this place was hidden, but not overly hard to find per se. Otherwise that would mean that Hero made a brand new discovery. Maybe then horses would write songs about him, they would sing his praises to the sky, and they would ogle over him wherever he went. Heroin the Discoverer. Heroin the Conqueror. Heroin the Magnificent. Those all sounded wonderful to him, and hoped it to be true. Maybe he would even get a metal or a statue in his honor. The magical orbs new about this place, but that did not mean that everyone else had to until he told them about it. He could not wait to see what was deeper inside to tell them about.

When the little light orb went higher in the cave, Hero watched it a moment, and was reminded of a chandelier of sorts. All that was needed was glass and decorations to make it complete, though that probably would not happen any time soon. The light lit up the room better for him to see in the darkness, and enabled him to navigate without snagging on anything. There was still a mysterious mood going on in the place, but it was better illuminated. One thing that Hero noticed was that no matter where he placed his hooves, there was no echo or prevailing sound. There had to be something diverting the sound. He seemed to be the only true living being that he had seen so far. Yes, as aforementioned, plants and shrubs were technically living, but not in the same sense of the word. They could not just uproot and roam around at will. Heroin did not understand that fact until he looked around some more. Then it was clear to him what exactly was going on. A normal cave would have reverberations and echoes, but this was no normal cave. It was split into two, thus isolating the sound.

The multicolored equine had a decision to make; should he go to the left or should he go to the right? This would take careful examination and inferences, and he would not leave it to chance. Those that did that probably died trying to get out of here. Heroin advanced first to the right tunnel entrance and looked around. There did not seem to be hoof prints or outstanding smells. The growing green moss tickled his velvet nose as he felt around the tunnel’s entrance. There were marking on the rocks at the Lunar Mountains. He was searching for something of that nature to tell him the proper direction. Hero wished that Bulby would just tell him which way to go; it had done so up to that point in a very bold manner, but not then.
After examining the right entrance, Heroin did the same on the left. Nothing stood out to him over there either. It seemed like the tunnels were outwardly the same. What was inside was unknown, so Heroin went into the left tunnel.

OOC | Plot Account






Rogue

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Posted on May 22 2018, 7:14 PM.
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#6

Coralynne
My only friend was the man in the moon

"H-hey!" a breathless huff, "would you slow down?" The last two words were exaggerated for emphasis. It was her guiding light that she was talking to.

Sweat dampened her brow, neck, chest – pretty much everything, actually. The mare hadn’t known a body could produce so much perspiration. She would have thought she sprung a leak with the amount dribbling down her smooth forehead, to tickle between her nostrils before dropping off her upper lip, except that she had seen countless other mortals swelter in the past. But that was back when she didn’t truly appreciate the effort with which they dedicated themselves. Now, as her plush ribs heaved for breath, the warmblood closed her eyes and sent a thousand apologizes into the void above her that was scattered with beautiful stars. Well, the number of prayers was more likely closer to eight or so apologizes because she was undeniably exhausted. Even thinking was making her ache worse. Her graceful limbs felt wobbly, contradictory to the reality that she wasn’t moving. Her heartbeat was a throb throughout her body as she stood. Steadfastly, the emerald gem given life was poised at the base of the Lunar Mountain to rest. The noble head carriage sagged low enough that her nose nearly brushed the ground, all the better for her to suck in much needed air. Crisp, clean forest scented air with each inhale. Sage hued legs spread wide so she didn’t waver with the slightest, gentlest of breezes. Her bicolored tail hung limply and her thick mane was wavy. A slight frizz made the strands kinky from her warm damp neck; a few flowers were even wilted. Her cherished forest crafted tiara remained appropriately nestled between her drooping ears. All around her the soft night sounds of forest inhabitants began to reappear since she was standing relatively quiet, when compared with her crashing through the underbrush to keep up with the eager orb.

Having long since lost sight of her would-be partner, Coralynne was a tad bitter toward the flickering orb and it seemed to be sentient enough to know it because it stayed mostly out of reach. The cute thing would even fade in brightness if she scowled moodily at it. The verdant fae wasn’t sincerely upset because the whole endeavor was still turning out to be a marvelous thrill. Merely, deep in her heart, she yearned to make a connection. More than anything she wanted to be part of a herd, a family, but she couldn’t do that if she didn’t meet others. This was a prime opportunity to meet someone and she blew it by space-casing long enough to trekking through the woods: all alone, in the night, traveling forever on tired limbs. She climbed a mountain! Then went down the mountain and now she needed to go on a jolly stroll to some place called Mystic Woodlands.

Striped hooves took two strides forward without her consent and her chartreuse lips kicked up into an indulgent smirk. The shamefaced light guide seemed to jump when Coralynne leapt forward and, with a toss of her nose, bopped it. With a flourishing swing of her neck to encourage it to do its job, she nickered, "I’m ready to go again."

The night never grew old as she traveled. Forests and meadows went by until the solitary mare found her way to the beginnings of a peculiar territory. Curious in spite of her worn out muscles she tiptoed her way in and peered around at the arching branches, low sweeping limbs, abundant groundcover, and adorable settlers with fresh eyes. The light orb cast a decent amount of illumination while it ushered her deeper into the thicket. She marveled at the trees. Some were like corkscrew willows, their branches twisting first this way before curling that way, while others were similar to the slender trunked Aspen. Whatever their structure, each and every tree had a way of presenting their finest feature; their shades were always of purple. Be it their bark, their exposed roots, or their leaves each boasted a luxurious and sultry hue ranging from pale lavender to deep, rich raisin. Typically the mosaic of greens that made up her pelt allowed her a natural camouflage among the lands she roamed yet she stood out like a fox among the sheep. Sleepy birds blinked at her from nests secured on spindly offshoots. Their dark eyes tracking her with ease as she rambled along behind the orb. Lilies and lilacs, aster and crocus, irises and pansies, they all cluttered the ground and made not stepping on them nearly impossible. Their combined fragrances were all at once overpowering and elegantly understated. With her malachite eyes closed to savor the smells, Coralynne’s pinnae snapped to attention and her nostrils flared in an attempt to recapture the scarce scent that teased the edge of her scenes. Was that a stallion?  she wondered. Trying to remember the exact components of the faint smell she gave a stamp of frustration when it slipped from her memory. Perhaps it had been but she wouldn’t know now. The fragile trail was muddled by the stronger forest odors. 

Whatever the case, the maiden’s will to follow the light to find her partner, and perhaps even the gifts, was revived with fervor. Her tail lifted slightly to let the evergreen tresses gracefully flow behind her as she pressed into a long reaching trot. Eyes bright with anticipation, the lass navigated as best she could. The way the orb was aiming for the thickest underbrush and narrowest trees made her think it was teasing her after the hard time she gave it. With a distinctly surly youth eye roll, the adolescent would find her way around the obstacles and always emerged with a proud smile on her lips at her success. Now if only I could find a way to get there faster. Patience was not her virtue.
"Your character's speech tags." | Your character's thinking tags.
 
OOC |Plot Account Heroin Phew, sorry for the wait! She's on her way now. c: 

Image credit: Annie Spratt on Unsplash


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Posted on Jun 13 2018, 7:24 PM. (Edited: Jun 13 2018, 7:24 PM by Plot Account.)
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#7

In front of Cora, the sphere of light buzzes impatiently before whizzing off in the direction of her purple-painted companion. It leaves a path of sparkling lights glittering behind it, as if to say, "Hurry up, follow me!" and hovers with a soft whir behind Heroin as it waits for its follower to catch up.

Something is happening! Cora, follow your light to find Heroin again, and perhaps you can discover the treasure together!




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