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flicker hither - Yana - 07-09-2017 The ink-spill of sky was trying its best to replicate the witch's star-speckled coat. She was a speck of spectral dust in comparison to its infinite black sea, and yet there she still stood: skinny neck cranked back to gaze not at the distant plains of space but at a wall of withering bramble. Perhaps another breed of equine would ignore the anomaly, but not the little black witch: the dry foliage was a sign that there was work to be done. Let us be done with this shaman. My patience has worn out. The girl spared a moment to allow a gurgling cough to creep from the depths of her throat before approaching the hedge. Black nares pulled at the air with quick, harsh breaths while she waited for it to pass. There is magic at work here, but if it is not my magic than whose? A midnight brow furrowed with worry, but the thought was quickly brushed aside. She knew that since her arrival: an unseen force had awoken a desire to hunt for an ancient relic in every individual she encountered so far; would it be unreasonable to believe that the same entity who compelled a whole army to search like mindless fools could also erect a labyrinth in one night? It is childish. Why beg for us to join in the game if you're going to steal the prize? Grey eyes searched the length of the hedge as she considered the identity of the being responsible for its construction. Could it be a child with immense power? Or a wise elder with a cruel sense of humor? Moonlight enveloped the girl's scrawny figure like a protective blanket, refusing to let her go as she moved on to another section of wall. It was not long before it veered off to her right, however, and showed her the depths of its gaping black maw. Time to find who is at your heart. OOC: AHHH quick post to make sure I get in I am such a butt ;-; @Random Events RE: flicker hither - Random Events - 07-10-2017 The Shaman Has Appeared!
As you enter the maze, the world around you seem to dampen and grow darker, the tall hedges casting shadows from every direction as they seem to lean in towards you. The air cools the further you venture in, crystals of ice covering a few delicate leaves on the hedges, the ground hardened under hoof. Each breath of air you take is cold, and small puffs of frost are emitted with every exhale. From somewhere up ahead comes a high pitched cackle, disembodied in the mist.
Rounding the next corner will show a lone figure standing there, his skin as pale and thin as stone, tangled locks obscuring a good portion of his face. Across his body is draped the skin of some animal you don’t recognize, covering frail shoulders. ”Is it the relic of almighty Tempus you seek, Yana?” he asks mockingly, his voice youthful despite his aged appearance, carrying a lilt you cannot place into any of the Courts. You do not know how he knows your name, for he is a figure you have never seen before, and you can only wonder what more he knows about you. ”You will have to follow me to find it.” And with that, he turns and takes off further into the maze, ever leading you northwards. His speed belies his age, for he is constantly just ahead of you, sometimes disappearing into the dim but never venturing far. As he disappears around the next corner, you become aware of another creature lurking somewhere behind you, one of the many beasts to have make the maze its home. @
Feel free to write in your own obstacles or beasts, or tag the Random Events account if you would like one given to you! You have until Wednesday, July 19th to get your next reply in, at which point the Shaman will again respond. Happy writing! RE: flicker hither - Yana - 07-18-2017 Dark ears snap to attention at the sound of the Shaman's voice. The witch lifts her gaze from the dry grass underfoot to size up her new foe, but he is not the powerful sorcerer she expects to meet. She halts her advance immediately, seemingly to allow more time for the wave of confusion to disturb her sea of thought. This cannot be the one who has caused such an uproar. Grey eyes scour his pale form as she tries to place the mocking voice with his scrawny figure. He is not the proud figure she pictures when she thinks of the hunt for the relic, nor the magnificent being who constructs labyrinths at the bat of an eye. The aged and skinny man with the sharp tongue and biting wit meets her in their stead, and the witch is unimpressed. Is he an insolent youth bent on playing nasty tricks for his own amusement? Or is he immortal, and he has somehow managed to produce adverse effects? Her teeth start to grind as she squints at the creature. She expects her adversary to be frustrating, but not so confusing. A puff of steam escapes from her nostrils with a snort. A sudden cold has taken up residence inside the maze: a sort of cold that carries sickness on its harsh biting winds and incites pain in every steaming breath. It is the kind of weather akin to the frosty season that caretakers dread -- and what the hell is it doing here in the midst of spring? The hag's star-dusted flesh flinches at the wind's icy touch, and dark eyes clamp shut as she waits for it to pass. After what seems like a millennia of bracing herself against the maze's cruel winter, the little witch returns her stare to the Shaman with a laboured cough. Enough of this. The cough rattles inside her throat with a vicious shake of the hag's dark crown, and she spits it out like bitter medicine. You are an oxymoron, and I am the climax. The stout legs supporting the girl's starry frame no longer stand still; she tears after the Shaman with a screech.I shall bring your story to an end. Tufts of sun-dried and now frost-chilled grass fly upwards in her wake, leaving a noticeable trail of hoof prints behind. She cares little for caution at the moment, however, for her thoughts are trained solely on the Shaman's dissipating form. His trail is not so easy to follow as hers, and her eyes are constantly darting from one shadow to the next in search of the green hide across his back. He seems to evaporate into thin air at times, but he is never gone for long. The same cannot be said for the starry girl, though: her form is constant, and her presence has been made known to all the creatures of the maze. One beast in particular has risen to conduct his own pursuit of the midnight mare. His footsteps are not muffled by magic as his master's are and, being rather broad and bulky, he is not the most careful of creatures. His veiny shoulders scrape against the walls of the labyrinth in particularly narrow passages, causing quite the raucous as the brittle bramble cracks and breaks and falls to the ground; only a fool can miss the sound, a warning -- an oddity, given the witch's usual appreciation for caution and surveillance. Perhaps there is something more to the maze than a hidden treasure and sulking beasts: perhaps madness has taken residence within its walls, too. @Random Events -- My post started to get kinda long and I'm not sure how many rounds we have left, so I'll build up more of the story next post! RE: flicker hither - Random Events - 07-23-2017
The beast comes to a hulking stop, breathing heavily through the thick mucous lining both mouth and nose. His gray skin is scarred and covered with sores, each in various stages of putrid decay that let off quite the potent odor. He smiles and reveals chipped and yellowed teeth, seemingly pleased at having you now within his sight. But he doesn’t come closer just yet—instead, he stares, that smile ever present on his face, until finally he utters a single, broken word in his gravelly voice.
“Pony.” And with that he charges, his goal unannounced but seemingly to snatch you up and carry you far away from the shaman. @
Again, sorry <3 You now have until Wednesday, July 26th at 11:59pm PST to get one last reply in before the Shaman reappears, so please reply accordingly! Happy writing! |