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Private  - Step Into My Zone and It's (DANGER!) [Orestes]

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Played by Offline LOON [PM] Posts: 1 — Threads: 1
Signos: 60
Vagabond Citizen
Male [He/Him] // 12 [Year 492 Winter] // 16.3 hh // Hth: 5 — Atk: 15 — Exp: 10 // Active Magic: N/A // Bonded: N/A

You don't want to fuck around with me,
You're talking to a goddamn... God.

The sun-bleached sand shifted underhoof as a bronze-hued stallion made his way towards... somewhere. He'd been through so much lately. Gabrielle's death had hit him hard and he was... not taking it well. He knew it was his fault, but he rejected the blame with every fiber of his being. To accept that, meant accepting defeat. It was hard to reconcile how lost he felt without her. She had always been his light in the darkness, and now he was drowning in shadow. Ironic, considering how bright the sun was in this desert. Tio suspected the sight of her body decaying into the earth would haunt him for years to come. The pain threatened to choke him again and his sure-footed, running gait came to a halt as he crested a dune and he looked out at a wasteland as desolate as his soul felt. Fitting, he thought with a toxic, mutinous lash of his tail. The chocolate tresses slapped hind legs sculpted by war and travel. There wasn't an ounce of fat on the stallion's body- steel muscles rippled under a velvet hide.

His gaze caught on the sight of an outcropping of rock and he turned to look, seeing the green of a canopy growing among the rocks. There must be water over there. he surmised. The stallion changed his course and started at a trot, down the back of the dune and towards the promise of shade. Sweat glistened off his neck as he reached the place and slipped in under the trees. He'd been right. A pool of crystal blue water fed many a plant and supported the growth of grasses and shrubs. With a snort, he trotted right down to the edge of the water and further until he was chest-deep. He took a long drink and then turned around to head back to the shallows. Once there, he sank onto his side and rolled onto his back to scrape some dirt and dust off his back and soak the burns. When he stood, he shook himself, a cascade of excess water flinging off his body.

The stallion then took the opportunity to feed as well and stretched his neck out to the ground to sniff at the tough grasses that grew here. It wasn't the best in the world, but it would do. He kept his ears trained to listen for danger. It was a good thing, too. Because of course a place like this would be guarded or claimed by another herd. He lifted his head when he heard hoofsteps and opened his mouth to taste as well as smell the approaching equine. It was a stallion, he knew that much. "There's no need to attack me. My name is Catillato and I'm merely passing through. I'll move on in a moment." He called out, his sides vibrating with the strength and volume of his whinny.

Walking "Talking" Thot
483 || @Orestes
Lyrics Credit: DANGEROUS, by Left Boy


Played by Offline Syndicate [PM] Posts: 104 — Threads: 17
Signos: 0
Day Court Sovereign
Male [he/his/him] // 5 [Year 500 Spring] // 15.2 hh // Hth: 12 — Atk: 8 — Exp: 19 // Active Magic: Solar Transformation // Bonded: Ariel (Sun Lion)


There are days when it is difficult for the Sovereign to balance the turbulent nature of his soul, and the duties of his station. 

Today is one of them.

The anger has built, and built, and built for days. It has simmered for weeks, even, beneath the surface. It has never felt so imprisoned, even when he had lived in a cell. It is the imprisonment of his body to one form, one shape, when he had once been able to become anything. The lack of agency roils with him but there is nothing he can do; all that pent up frustration, rage, contempt has nowhere to go.

He is a lion pacing its cage, going about routine duties as if his entire life has not changed irrevocably. Occasionally, Solterra’s residents ask him where he is from. Orestes does not lie to them; he merely says, from across the sea
To distract himself, he has gone to explore his territory. It is what Orestes does, to quiet his mind. This time, he follows the well-worn tracks—still transient, in the desert—to the oasis.

The foliage is always unexpected and strangely vibrant, but equally welcome. He can smell the lush nearly tropic air before he reaches it—but he is surprised to catch a scent on the wind that is unfamiliar to him. As he approaches the oasis itself, catching a gleam of the sapphire water through the trees, a voice rises to meet him.

Orestes almost smiles. 


But he does not. On any other day, he may have.

If only his anger wasn't sitting so heavily in his heart.

“Hello, Catillatio. I’m Orestes.” He closes the distance between the shade-line and the oasis, dipping his head briefly to take a drink of the water. The opposite side, where the other stallion occupies the oasis, is clouded and dirty. “Are you used to being attacked for passing through?” Orestes asks, conversationally. 


Illustration by Tibet-Lama


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