[ Post a Response | Desreal ]
Posted by THE HYENA on March 2, 2009, 7:37 pm
99.249.135.59
OOC|I'm gonna say they walked away. So I can post this at Ni'Srilan. ^^
A modicum of events had been overlapping within the disarray of my mind as of late; so many epiphones gone undone, so many ideas, adventures, simple moments with friends, left untouched. Unused. Ignored. There were moments in this hectic, yet so epic of a living I resided within where I wondered, truly, what I was to do in this world any longer. Something deep within me had breathed that I was to find my heart and soul buried beneath the carcasses of the Blitzkrieg; I cannot speak a lie and claim I had not found my calling. No, the Wargrounds had summoned me like the magnetic pull of gravity does to all of nature. Still. Something had been left alone for too long; it was the longing of the traveller. For so long, so many years, I had journeyed 'long hill and valley, venturing into lands where many preferred not to go. My mind had been set to find a nice harem to create a life within, but as soon as I had risen up, become what I always had wanted to be, became friends with the most violently kickass cacti-dominator in the world... I was empty. My friend was great; Althea, my mate, and the three children she bore me (although, perhaps I should be apologetic to her considering our recent fallout) were perfect. The three children would soon become great in their time- I had heard dear Witchblight had taken up the mantle of her sire, me, and was striving for Bronze already. Her sapphire pools had also been set upon my friend, Baraqel, I had heard from the rumours that always travel betwixt those wandering. It amused me greatly that my own spawn should find Baraqel attractive in all aspects; whatever the outcome, I should hope to laugh in my friend's presence, upon that topic, for years yet.
I had planned on it. To live for years. Watch my beloved children grow- see my mate become an Oracle, perhaps, and the fall of Andarin, just to project Ni'Srilan further to glory.
I had been made a destiny, however, and everyone has that pivotal moment in time, where just before something devastating occurs, they have a revelation. Not even a revelation, but moreso the realization of their lives- flashbacks. Memories. Regrets, remorse, wishes and promises, not received and broken. That eerie decadence that cascaded across my caramel dun frame, that twitch of my muscles where the nerves were most sensitive- it came as a silent warning. Strandwolf, the air seemed to whisper, soothing me, giving me a polite, but nevertheless sorrowful smile. It was gentille, kindly. Strandwolf. Come.
A sigh.
So I must.
My honeyed gaze hardens with a steadfast purpose within them; the fool was not patient nor very adept with intelligence it seemed; he made little work to conceal his movements, cover his audible rustlings. I experienced a heart-stopping surge of power from behind me- the Lightning he wielded was being drawn swiftly in, before I felt the pulse. It was Lightning. And so it could travel at speeds not even the human could dream about. At whatever Mach it traversed, my breath became slow, but shallow all the same, and despite myself, I felt fear grip my heart. I'm not ready yet. I have a life I want to live.
It seemed my wishes would go unbidden; for a moment, I felt the oncoming, looming, ecstatic presence of Blitzstrahl as it approached- and then it encased me. Although I was Lightning III as well, the force of the voltage sent rivulets of numbing shock through my body, and my breath snagged in my throat. It was difficult to move- my cranium was flung out, ramrod straight, in reaction to the dangerous savagery it landed upon my nerves. Alcatraz' vicious enactment lasted only a small while, and yet, it seemed that my struggle was not to end. I had hoped, for a long time, to meet this bloodthirsty stag for a long time, he with a bone-bare face, and I with the skin peeled neatly off mine. The two phantoms of the opera, with our discarded flesh. Numerous scars. But there is one issue I had failed to remember. He is a Keeper. He has slaves.
By the time Blitzstrahl's lingering affects wavered, my Lightning began to pick up again in buoyancy, attempting to form around me so I could send out my own counter. Just as I forumalted the word in my mind, Imperi- I was slammed with a force I had not detected, because of my paralysis. Immediately, Wicked's Earth suffocated my Lightning, hid it from even my view, smothering me with such force that I could not comprehend. Had I met this mare in the stalemate of the Krieg, I probably would have bashed her head in, but the ebon-hued mare collided with me from behind my back, from the shadows, while I waspreoccupied with a raving madman. It was all I needed. But she did more for me. How kind. As the pain erupted in my hooves and fetlocks from the positions they were being thrust into by the rumbling Earthquake, again she hit me, her right foreleg managing to land a particularly well-aimed blow to the back of my knee. I cried out in a wash of severe nausea, as I felt my leg give way slightly. It was my insanity from all this action, too much action, my adrenaline, that allowed me to simply stumble. Yet remain on all four feet with a hairline fracture and several damaged carpals. My throat was thick and choked with spit, as I hadn't the time to worry of such mediocre problems. My eyes were wide and rolling, honeyed brown being encircled with the whites.
LIGHTNING III
Alphamagnetism
Imperium
B E L L Y C R A W L E R
GOLD GENERAL
THE HYENA 7
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