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Subject: ¤glare¤ Author: Charring [ Next Thread | Previous Thread | Next Message | Previous Message ] Date Posted: 10:08:14 05/12/02 Sun Author Host/IP: 152.163.206.179 In reply to: .·.azulfeugo.·. 's message, ".·.misguidedwraith.·." on 21:04:58 05/11/02 Sat A glare is sent t'wards azulfuego, before she turns and canters on ahead of Detrusient. Odd; how is it that she knows precisely where he wishes to go before he states the fact? 'Tis magic, though she knows it not. Mind-magic, to be precise; powerful mind-magic. If 'tis not trained, it could get out of hand. Without control, she may someday accidentally reduce Nerezza to being even more of a wasteland than it is already. The matter should be adressed later, rather than now. Soon she reaches the caves. Orbs fall 'pon stone bowl; it has a purpose, she knows, but what? She knows not, for she is out of range of Detrusient. Orbs turn now to the entrance of the cave; Detrusient has arrived. In response to his offer, she replies:"No thank you. I shall do quite adequately on my own." To prove her point, she moves over to a particularly sharp boulder, slashing her knee on it, then belatedly realizes that going back to the stone bowl will certainly be an interesting experience. As she realizes this, orbs turn now to the bowl mentioned. It begins to levitate, then flies over to land neatly below her knee, just as first drop o' silver blood falls. It lands within the bowl. After it fall many other drops; soon the bowl is full. Eyeing the cut on her leg, she wishes it would go away -- and it does. What the...? Healing? This is weird. She stands there, rump t'wards Trui, so that he cannot see what just happened with the knee - although it would've been difficult to miss the flying-bowl thing. She hopes that he goes away to let her think, and then realizes some sort of sensation of -- a...dragon, awaking from a deep slumber, restless, wishing to do her bidding - to far more an extreme than she would wish. Frantically she stuffs it back into slumber. Hopefully she can control it long enough for Detrusient to get out of there -- wait. Why does she care? He just made her put her own BLOOD in a bowl! Nevertheless, she DOES care, and keeps the dragon under control. For her own sake as well, now, she hopes he gets out of there. Otherwise, she may well collapse trying to keep the dragon under control... OOC: I can only hope, now, that the html works... [ Next Thread | Previous Thread | Next Message | Previous Message ]

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[> [> [> Subject: ¤glare¤ [[re-do...i think i know how to make the html work now!!]] Author: Charring [ Edit | View ] Date Posted: 10:14:23 05/12/02 Sun Author Host/IP: 152.163.206.179 A glare is sent t'wards azulfuego, before she turns and canters on ahead of Detrusient. Odd; how is it that she knows precisely where he wishes to go before he states the fact? 'Tis magic, though she knows it not. Mind-magic, to be precise; powerful mind-magic. If 'tis not trained, it could get out of hand. Without control, she may someday accidentally reduce Nerezza to being even more of a wasteland than it is already. The matter should be adressed later, rather than now. Soon she reaches the caves. Orbs fall 'pon stone bowl; it has a purpose, she knows, but what? She knows not, for she is out of range of Detrusient. Orbs turn now to the entrance of the cave; Detrusient has arrived. In response to his offer, she replies:"No thank you. I shall do quite adequately on my own."To prove her point, she moves over to a particularly sharp boulder, slashing her knee on it, then belatedly realizes that going back to the stone bowl will certainly be an interesting experience. As she realizes this, orbs turn now to the bowl mentioned. It begins to levitate, then flies over to land neatly below her knee, just as first drop o' silver blood falls. It lands within the bowl. After it fall many other drops; soon the bowl is full. Eyeing the cut on her leg, she wishes it would go away -- and it does. What the...? Healing? This is weird. She stands there, rump t'wards Trui, so that he cannot see what just happened with the knee - although it would've been difficult to miss the flying-bowl thing. She hopes that he goes away to let her think, and then realizes some sort of sensation of -- a...dragon, awaking from a deep slumber, restless, wishing to do her bidding - to far more an extreme than she would wish. Frantically she stuffs it back into slumber. Hopefully she can control it long enough for Detrusient to get out of there -- wait. Why does she care? He just made her put her own BLOOD in a bowl! Nevertheless, she DOES care, and keeps the dragon under control. For her own sake as well, now, she hopes he gets out of there. Otherwise, she may well collapse trying to keep the dragon under control... [ Post a Reply to This Message ]

[> [> [> [> Subject: ][ magic ][ Author: Detruisent [ Edit | View ] Date Posted: 16:48:36 05/12/02 Sun Author Host/IP: 208.247.220.229 Empty abhor flickers as the bowl flew to Charring. Magic, the core of him recoiled from such a thing. In such times as this, the war between self and self-control was nearly visible. Flanks and shoulders were quivering, muzzle was twisted with a bit of rage. "Charring, my dear, step outside here. We're going outside." He stepped back and waited for her, silence as the reins broke. [ Post a Reply to This Message ]

[> [> [> [> [> Subject: ¤puzzled¤ Author: Charring [ Edit | View ] Date Posted: 17:21:03 05/12/02 Sun Author Host/IP: 152.163.206.183 Puzzlement; he had asked her to come in, now he asked her to go back out. Nevertheless, she obeys. The "dragon" seems to have gone away; perhaps it has given up? Nay, for she now senses it, waiting for that one moment when her attention turns aside, when her guard relaxes. THEN it shall strike. Determinedly, she keeps her guard up. Ugh. Hindmost tress twitches, slightly, irritated. Magic; what a curse. If only there were some way to get rid of it, for she has not known about it for long at all, yet already she despises it. If she cannot get rid of it, she has no idea what she'll do. [ Post a Reply to This Message ]

[> [> [> [> [> [> Subject: ][ what ][ to ][ do ][ Author: Detruisent [ Edit | View ] Date Posted: 00:48:58 05/16/02 Thu Author Host/IP: 208.247.220.55 He was obviously disturbed. Very obviously. Usually sulking 'round, without a hint of emotion in his eyes. Now he allowed himself to show his weakness. Weakness, in him, quickly birthed rage. Quickly. She was just a filly! Torn about what to do, he certainly didn't want her near him. The reins had already slipped, something was out of control. Though he held himself (for dignity's sake). Quietly and swiftly, black-iron alicorn swept her shoulder and neck, a butchor's knife, tearing up dead food. He saw her skin as raw and bloody, infection covering her body, snake's venom dripping into raw wounds with stinking effects. None of that would kill the magic. He really was angry, and she was reminding him of Stovati. "On your knees, ma'am." [ Post a Reply to This Message ]

[> [> [> [> [> [> [> Subject: ¤anger¤ Author: Charring [ Edit | View ] Date Posted: 14:20:53 05/16/02 Thu Author Host/IP: 64.12.101.178 Anger, carefully concealed. What is this all about? At slicing o' alicorn, dragon becomes restless. When he states his wish for her to be 'pon her knees, it breaks free. Hold on dragon is now nonexistant, and attempts to force it back under control, inneffectual. Falmes, leaping up around her; fire, reaching out, seeking the stallion Detrusient's life. Terror, uncontrolled; tendrils of flame reach also for her! Fear gives her the strength she didn't know existed, the power to force the dragon back into restless sleep, to quell the flames rising up 'round her. Sullenly, they sink, collapsing back into the ground, 'til even tendrils of smoke cease to rise into the air. Terror, at what she has done, what might have happened, what will happen, and what the stallion will do now, overcomes her. Without thinking, femora explodes forthward, limbs carrying her swiftly forthward. She must escape this place, must find someplace more peaceful, more alive, less dreary - someplace to think! Seeking to flee this wasteland, she flees, running t'wards Mount Enchantment... [ Post a Reply to This Message ]

[> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> Subject: OOC Author: Lizai [mun of Charring] [ Edit | View ] Date Posted: 12:27:42 05/20/02 Mon Author Host/IP: 64.12.104.54 I think I've given you PLENTY of time to react. No offense. *posts in Mount Enchantment* [ Post a Reply to This Message ]