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  Summer, Year 3    Leviticus Era
The new Firstborn Vihaan is visiting the horses of Carinae in Viridian Fields!
The Lost One has appeared needing help of your characters in this site wide plot!
Congratulations to Ritsika, the new player of newly mortal firstborn, Cora!
Welcome new Empress Kashmir of Heretic!
The Red Wastes now has a sub-forum of its own! All Lyrus members can post there but outsiders beware!
The training battle between Gotham City and Caelian has been decided on a winner!

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Open  [ 'Cause I'm a little unsteady ]

 Adult, 8½ yrs  Mare
 16.2 hh  1000 lbs
66 Posts 530 points
 Ritsika Offline
Posted on May 31 2018, 6:41 PM.


Tried to keep our colors inside the lines
Similar to how the pinto entered the ball she was exiting, except that she wasn’t appreciating the décor so much as she was trying to remain on all four legs. Wobbly steps were taken with the utmost of care because the ground appeared to undulate. Deceptively the ground would be further than she thought and her hoof would stamp hard enough to jar her shoulder, or the lush greenery would leap up to meet her and she would nearly trip from catching the tip of her toe on absolutely nothing except flat ground. Thoroughly intoxicated despite having very little to drink, the pegasus might have been more susceptible to the alcohol due to the fact that her belly had been empty when she partook of the fruity drinks. But her lack of tolerance was perhaps also a natural dilemma as her built was refined for a draft, a constant lack of proper nutrition revealing itself in the way she looked unfinished notwithstanding the fact that she was over eight years of age. Whatever the cause, she was positively smitten while stumbling along the petal strewn path lined by jars and babbles. Each tottering step moved her further away from the subsiding bustle of the party where she had seen both friends and strangers. Vaguely she thought she might be heading home but the journey was the fun, not the destination. A few tealights were flickering at their wicks end while others were burnt out completely in misshapen lumps of melted wax yet the pied maiden feared not the night because fairylights stretched between the branches to light her way and she was positively euphoric from all the events.

Passing beneath the wicker archway the ivory and sorrel patched mare was enfolded in darkness after a few strides into the waiting abyss. The forest where enormous trees loomed above with their branches reaching out to hide the moon’s pale shining glow she went without a backward glance or purposefully hesitant stride. Still she was unsteady on her hooves. A joy radiated from the youthful minded lass when she took a moment to stop and fondly caress one of the two silks she had snitched from the festivities. To do so she arched her pale neck to brush her pink skinned nose against the luxurious fabric draped around her neck and shoulder. The streamers had hung from the branches and, though her scarf of metallic gold had been acknowledged as a gift by none other than the host, the royal blue sash was her not-so-secret prize. Though her attempt had been obvious, she thought she had been stealthy in her tactics and her reward was success in keeping the glossy blue scarf. As the chestnut tobaino stood within the shelter of fern fronds and huckleberry bushes determinedly growing beneath the towering timbers she sighed and recalled what the ebony and cyan stallion had said to her: head home, drink water and go to bed. Looking about, her vision sparkling with flashes of white and wavering as if she was looking through water and not thin air, she curled her lower lip between her teeth and nibbled indecisively. In her blissful stupor, the sabino had lost her way. Oddly enough, the timid gal wasn’t the least bit worried – drunken confidence or naïve ignorance, either was a dangerous combination.

Since the direction of home was completely unconceivable at this point the winged maiden decided to close her mismatched eyes and listen to the sounds of the woods. How her heart missed the sound of rustling leaves, shuffling night creatures, the hoot of an owl, and the far off shushing of a stream all dampened by the creaking and groaning of minutely swaying trees. She had been here a couple of times before but those visits had been brief and marked with anxiousness. This long stay was positively refreshing and reached down to her soul. The only home she had ever known was the forest and, drunk as she was she was, she content to stand her until dawn. Except that she had an uncomfortable urge to do something. Anything exciting at all! With a gleeful squeal she burst into the air with a buck. Landing ungracefully, a laugh reminiscent of a foal’s dancing upon the air currents, the light draft was quite the sight as she attempted to lope and weave around the trunks in her effort to satisfy her yearning for more excitement. Only when she could frolic no more, exhausted from traveling and the social night, did she find a grove to settle. Tucking her knees, she gasped when the world span with surprising vertigo before her rump plopped down behind her. Fluttering her wings above her, the sepia pegasus nestled her limbs under her bodice then fanned out her feathered wings to blanket herself. A mighty yawn stretched her maw wide as sleep fought to take her under though she childishly resisted. Squinting ahead and counting each leaf, the fae didn’t know when she fell asleep but when she woke it was with an unpleasant pounding in her skull. Thinking a woodpecker or miscreant squirrel was playing a trick on her, she groaned and groggily blinked around in disorientation. "What is wrong with Alell’s head," she whimpered and cringed at the volume of her own voice. "Uuuhhhhhhggggg." The incoherent complaint decreased in octave before she stifled the sound with another whimper. Aching in ways she didn’t know she could, the filly-mare ducked beneath her wing and tried to ignore the world.

"Your character's speech tags." | | "Your character's thinking tags."
OOC | Time set is the morning after Gotham City 's ball. I couldn’t resist.


 Adult, 11 yrs  Stallion
 20.0 hh  2400 lbs
88 Posts 3,460 points
 BailanduSilueta Offline
Posted on Jun 10 2018, 4:36 PM.

"Gnnngnhh" the beast groaned as he lifted his head from the ground on which he lay. And immediately thumped it back down again.

Gotham flattened his ears against his skull as a relentless throb pulsed between them. His tongue felt heavy and thick with a surface like sand-paper, and every muscle in his body was tense and sore. Reluctantly the sovereign allowed his eyelids to flutter open yet he instinctively flinched backwards as soon as the slightest shimmer of sunlight filtered into his vision. A little way from his crumpled figure were the remains of the grand ball he'd held the night before. Fairylights, garlands and ribbons still hung from tree branches, the long tables still stood steady down either side of the dancefloor, but each and every candle had long since burned out. All that was left of their presence were narrow puddles of hardened wax. The reserves of champagne and other fine wines were emptied - the plates of fruits and berries held only strawberry tops and apple cores. The ball had been a success, but Gotham sure as hell wasn't looking forward to cleaning up the aftermath.

The behemoth gathered his senses within a plentiful number of minutes and realised via the shadows of the trees around him it must be nearing midday. He heaved a long, weary sigh from his lips and attempted a second time to lift his hulking form from the damp earth. He first lifted his head - with a painstakingly slow pace - and then his two forelegs, planting them upon the ground and hauling his body up to follow. It took a long moment for the dizziness in his head to lessen, but once it had he set off lazily away from the clearing that was the King's Last Stand. Perhaps there was more exciting business to be perused elsewhere.

The air was clear enough to soothe the King's head a little, but he doubted anything could bring an end to the ceaseless pounding behind his eyes. Not before the day was up, at least. It took a little walking and a few stops at various bodies of water for intermitten drinks before Gotham stumbled upon the feathered form of a whimpering mare.

He didn't remember very much of the latter hours of last night, but he remembered a late encounter with an incredibly drunk lady. A lady who looked awfully like this one. In fact, he most certainly remembered those startling brown and white wings, and it seemed unsurprising that she would be hiding from the world and groaning as a hangover swamped her liveliness.

The stallion did not hang his head to greet the mare - he feared if he did then he wouldn't be able to lift it again, or that the movement would cause him to faint. Instead, he lifted a front hoof and gently tapped it against the woman's side. He hoped he was not causing her any pain, though if her state was in any way similar to his own she was likely in constant pain as it was. He parted his dry lips and first coughed before attempting to rouse the femme with his croaky words, "M..Morning," he suppressed a groan at the sound of his own grating voice, "Wakey wakey, it's lunchtime!" perhaps the promise of food would make her more likely to awaken? He assumed she hadn't gone to drink water as he had kindly advised, but then he hadn't really taken his own advice either so he couldn't realistically chastise her for it. "I think you'd better get some water down you, madame." he began to chuckle, yet promptly stopped for the vibrations in his skull were amplified sevenfold by his ghastly hangover. 

At least today he had someone to share in his misery.
i am the monster you made me
tag: Alell

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