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+---- Thread: [P] Patron of the Sea (/showthread.php?tid=709)
Patron of the Sea - Hugan - 08-24-2017
HUGAN GRAVES
Let me paint this clear, life is short, my dear.
The morning sun had just started to ride, its bright colorful rays peeking over the horizon. Colors of orange, pink, and purples spread across the clouds, a perfect painting in the sky. The wind picked and pulled at everything it could touch, including the matted, silvery hair of the stocky stallion standing on the beach. His hair tugged at his neck, whipping at his face before pulling clear of his features. He stood with his hooves pressed into the rocky sand, the cold water lapping at his legs. The scent of salt and brine filled his nostrils, the sound of crashing waves filled his ears. Although Hugan had been grounded since his wreck, he had always been a sea man. His old clan was one of vikings; the sea being their partner. It provided travel, food, and play. He did not fear the water as it rolled threatening before him, but he respected it. He knew, all it took was catching her in a bad mood, and his life could end in a watery grave.
Since coming to these new lands, Hugan found himself seeking out the sea. It was a place of comfort, a place of rest. He loved the feel of the cold, salty ocean mixing with his striped coat. He loved watching the crashing waves and listening to their roar. His head dipped down as he let out a soft breath, his eyes closing momentarily as he remembered his old friend from his days as an ambassador. Oblaur had known the dangers of the sea more than Hugan, yet he had paid for it. The bird skull pierced into the unicorn's ear, the ache in his jaw from artificial teeth, the eye he could no longer see from.. all reminded him of that every day.
However, Hugan was not one to dwell on the past. What was done was done, and there was nothing he could do about it. Squinting against the bright sun, he rose his head once more, flicking his head as his forelock slapped across his face. His long horn seemed to glow in the rising light, the emerald carved eyes gleaming against the obsidian backdrop.
It was then that he heard sand shifting behind him, his ears shifting back, but body still as the waves continued to play at his hooves.
Hope this is alright!
RE: Patron of the Sea - Israfel - 08-26-2017
Israfel
It was the perfect morning for a run.
The Terminus Sea skirted the borders of Terrastella, and it was upon the shoreline that Israfel began her daily routine. Since being taken in by the Dusk Court, the gilded maiden had done her best to push her body back into tip-top shape. It was proving difficult, given the fact that she was recovering from death itself and prone to episodes of unfathomable exhaustion and fatigue, but the Sun Daughter was nothing if not resolute. There was far too much riding on her shoulders than to simply stand about and do nothing. No, she had lived a life of that, of pettiness, selfishness, and greed, swallowed by vanity, and Israfel would no longer walk that path.
No. She had chosen a new path, even if she doubted herself and her abilities, especially without the flaming magics passed on from her Godly father. The route of a warrior would be a difficult, arduous one, bringing forth a potential future of bloodshed and death, but Israfel did not balk or back away from the offer. If anything, it simply made her more determined, more desperate to prove herself, and her worth.
So, that was why she found herself upon the beaches against the Terminus Sea, cloven hooves creating a rapid, muffled staccato against sand and rocks as she galloped upon the shoreline. The alabaster warrior's wings were outstretched, gilded feathers bristled and taut, catching wind as she ran to create a force of resistance in an attempt to strengthen her body. Rose-kissed nostrils flared, sucking in large gulps of air to fill her lungs, ivory ears pressed back flat against her skull and almost lost amidst wind-swept strands of gilded mane.
By the time that she halted to rest, sides heaving from exertion and sweat clinging to her frame, Israfel felt oddly satisfied. Her moods were unstable, torn between peaceful content and ravaging melancholy, but right now, she was calm. Satisfied. That was, of course, when fiery vermilion eyes spotted a striped figure standing amidst the water and waves of the Sea, staring out amidst the water as though the lapping waves held all of the answers to the world's mysteries. Hell, as a daughter born of fire and flesh, Israfel had never been one to pander to the churning waves, and for all she knew, they did.
Tossing her head to rid the hair from her feminine face and free her vision, the once demi-goddess curled ivory and golden gilded wings close to her sweaty sides, and approached, each golden, cloven hoof carrying the ivory maiden with an elegance and poise that she would, perhaps, never outgrow. Warm vermilion eyes regarded the stranger, taking in what of his appearance that she could from the space between them; his body was striped in lines of ebony, coat a mix of browns and whites, with thick, matted hairs for his mane and tail. The horn upon his brow was a proud thing, and Israfel admired it fondly.
"Hark," she beckoned at last, dulcet vocals light and airy amidst the salty breeze and the crash of waves, halting her advance a good distance away from the stallion just in case her presence was unwanted, "Good morn!"
The Terminus Sea skirted the borders of Terrastella, and it was upon the shoreline that Israfel began her daily routine. Since being taken in by the Dusk Court, the gilded maiden had done her best to push her body back into tip-top shape. It was proving difficult, given the fact that she was recovering from death itself and prone to episodes of unfathomable exhaustion and fatigue, but the Sun Daughter was nothing if not resolute. There was far too much riding on her shoulders than to simply stand about and do nothing. No, she had lived a life of that, of pettiness, selfishness, and greed, swallowed by vanity, and Israfel would no longer walk that path.
No. She had chosen a new path, even if she doubted herself and her abilities, especially without the flaming magics passed on from her Godly father. The route of a warrior would be a difficult, arduous one, bringing forth a potential future of bloodshed and death, but Israfel did not balk or back away from the offer. If anything, it simply made her more determined, more desperate to prove herself, and her worth.
So, that was why she found herself upon the beaches against the Terminus Sea, cloven hooves creating a rapid, muffled staccato against sand and rocks as she galloped upon the shoreline. The alabaster warrior's wings were outstretched, gilded feathers bristled and taut, catching wind as she ran to create a force of resistance in an attempt to strengthen her body. Rose-kissed nostrils flared, sucking in large gulps of air to fill her lungs, ivory ears pressed back flat against her skull and almost lost amidst wind-swept strands of gilded mane.
By the time that she halted to rest, sides heaving from exertion and sweat clinging to her frame, Israfel felt oddly satisfied. Her moods were unstable, torn between peaceful content and ravaging melancholy, but right now, she was calm. Satisfied. That was, of course, when fiery vermilion eyes spotted a striped figure standing amidst the water and waves of the Sea, staring out amidst the water as though the lapping waves held all of the answers to the world's mysteries. Hell, as a daughter born of fire and flesh, Israfel had never been one to pander to the churning waves, and for all she knew, they did.
Tossing her head to rid the hair from her feminine face and free her vision, the once demi-goddess curled ivory and golden gilded wings close to her sweaty sides, and approached, each golden, cloven hoof carrying the ivory maiden with an elegance and poise that she would, perhaps, never outgrow. Warm vermilion eyes regarded the stranger, taking in what of his appearance that she could from the space between them; his body was striped in lines of ebony, coat a mix of browns and whites, with thick, matted hairs for his mane and tail. The horn upon his brow was a proud thing, and Israfel admired it fondly.
"Hark," she beckoned at last, dulcet vocals light and airy amidst the salty breeze and the crash of waves, halting her advance a good distance away from the stallion just in case her presence was unwanted, "Good morn!"
@Hugan
RE: Patron of the Sea - Hugan - 09-03-2017
HUGAN GRAVES
Let me paint this clear, life is short, my dear.
His ears trained on the stranger as they approached, keeping his gaze on the crashing sea as if he did not notice them. He heard their every step press into the sand, up until they stopped. Silence washed over them briefly, nothing but the call of the sea filling the air. Slowly, the stallion brought in a breath, pushing his thick hair from his eyes with a flick of his teke. He opened his mouth to speak, but the melodic voice of the stranger called out first.
"Hark!" His head turned, brow raised. His one good eye trained on the other, examining her milky coat and large wings. She was standing further back than he had expected, causing him to shift in his spot, his hooves bringing him further onto the beach. The ocean seemed to chase him, but its white froth never found his sharp hooves.
"Morning." He replied, his voice deep and gravely, like a rumble from a mountain. He gave a short nod, stopping before the taller female. What was it with most of the inhabitants here being taller than him? He snorted quietly at the thought. It was then, in closer quarters, that he finally noticed the horn upon her head. That was one thing they shared, though hers was more fine and dainty- and probably much, much sharper.
Pressing past his typical quiet nature, the stallion rested a hoof and turned his attention back to the crashing waves behind him with a nod of his head, his thick hair bouncing against his neck. "Nice day for sight seeing." He commented in a low, content mumble just as the breeze picked up and swirled the salty scent of the ocean around his muzzle. The thought to introduce himself didnt even cross his mind.
RE: Patron of the Sea - Israfel - 09-04-2017
Israfel
Upon her arrival and the announcement of her presence, Israfel grew quiet, letting the contemplative male take his time with acknowledging her. Should he prove to be disinterested, she would move on. After all, it wasn't her place to throw herself into the presence of one who may wish to be alone. Gods knew that she had her own moments of self-exile and exclusion, where company was the furthest thing from her mind.
It became quite clear, however, that it was not the case. He turned to her, regarded her through an eye of striking green. The other, Israfel noticed, was subdued with a milky cataract, and the Sun Daughter recognized it immediately for what it was. Blind. Accept, move on. These were the things she was desperately trying to learn and master, but it would take time. Finally he seemed sated with a visual inspection, and the striped male turned to approach, enabling her a much better view of his person.
The pale maiden held herself at attention beneath the weight of his scrutiny and the lackluster pace of his approach, wings tucked intimately against her sides, back straight, vermilion eyes staring back, unabashed and unashamed. His word of greeting then, a throaty, deep 'morning' put her at ease, and that brief smile upturned rose-pink lips once again. Gruff as he appeared, this fellow did not seem to be a filled with ill-intent.
"It is," she agreed after a moment of deliberation, dipping her head in a likewise form of greeting, letting her gaze wander to the churning waves of the ocean, pools of flaming depths and inquisitive curiosity, "The perfect day to get out and about."
Israfel redirected her gaze, chin held high, posture still erect. "I'm Isra. Israfel Azardokht, warrior of the Dusk Court." A smile stole away the easy-going expression upon pink lips, coy and cunning. "And you?"
It became quite clear, however, that it was not the case. He turned to her, regarded her through an eye of striking green. The other, Israfel noticed, was subdued with a milky cataract, and the Sun Daughter recognized it immediately for what it was. Blind. Accept, move on. These were the things she was desperately trying to learn and master, but it would take time. Finally he seemed sated with a visual inspection, and the striped male turned to approach, enabling her a much better view of his person.
The pale maiden held herself at attention beneath the weight of his scrutiny and the lackluster pace of his approach, wings tucked intimately against her sides, back straight, vermilion eyes staring back, unabashed and unashamed. His word of greeting then, a throaty, deep 'morning' put her at ease, and that brief smile upturned rose-pink lips once again. Gruff as he appeared, this fellow did not seem to be a filled with ill-intent.
"It is," she agreed after a moment of deliberation, dipping her head in a likewise form of greeting, letting her gaze wander to the churning waves of the ocean, pools of flaming depths and inquisitive curiosity, "The perfect day to get out and about."
Israfel redirected her gaze, chin held high, posture still erect. "I'm Isra. Israfel Azardokht, warrior of the Dusk Court." A smile stole away the easy-going expression upon pink lips, coy and cunning. "And you?"
@Hugan