sacrilege; { open }

[skibbereenfarms]

     It's the sort of day that could bring the starving to their knees; with the bright orb in the sky dancing merrily above their heads, some might argue such a fact, what with the generally joyful mood coming from the sun. But not in a place like this. The desert, as she has come to experience, is not a place for joy. It is where the weak come to test themselves, and it is where they find their graves. She is a witness to countless demises, and it is curious to know they're all painfully similar. They'd pray for salvation, each and every one of them. Please, they would beg, save us from this heat, from the empty feeling in the pit of our stomachs. But God grants no mercy for those he intended to kill. He cannot help if they were not adequately prepared for such a day. He grants everybody the tools, and it is only their fault if they are not utilized properly. And so they perish, and allow the lesser beings to pick up the scraps.

     Abbadon, unfortunately, falls among them. She-devil, her mother once called her. Not even she could claim such a title, for she was far less significant. But she enjoyed the idea, greeting those who find themselves in the afterlife in fire and smoke. It is why she always took such intrigue to discovering a deceased beast's bones buried in the sand of the Canyon. She could always find satisfaction in spitting on the dusty old things, reminding the poor soul of his or her unfortunate state. "Disgusting," she would mutter, before moving on to the next remnant of a lesser being came along.

     So other than the mare's bitter attitude and a headache that couldn't be bothered to leave, it was a fairly normal day in the desert. Once in a while she would take a jog, submerging herself deeper into the endless maze that was Dask Canyon, only to turn herself around and try to find a way back. This was truly the definition of boredom, and Abaddon wasn't entirely sure if she would be able to handle this anymore. Honestly something, anything would be more interesting than this. What does a mare have to do to chew a heart around here?

notes. so i am definitely a little rusty. but i will get back into the swing of things.
words. 382
muse. n/a

[Mallory]

The last few months had been uncharacteristically kind to Regina. Having been accustomed to misfortune and the like, having a rather blissful year seemed...strange. But she was not about to question the circumstances life had given her, for they were far nicer than the ones she had come here with some time ago. Never would she question her life in the desert, her home, nor the privilege given to her by the stallion that ruled over their extended family. And of all things, never would she question the one thing most precious to her in this moment; her daughter. However, with Andromeda finally reaching an age where she no longer needed Regina’s constant supervision, the smoky colored mare was finally free to do what she had come to Baahir for.

She was finally free to be the Queen she had promised Angelus she’d be: ruthless, fierce, and constantly on the prowl for more members to recruit for the cause.

Having freedom from her child was liberating. She had forgotten what it was like to wander alone and now she was free to scour the desert with a critical eye without having to worry about a child underfoot. She could move more swiftly and traverse into areas of Baahir that would have been considered too dangerous for a child, let alone her precious daughter. Perhaps the need for something was what led Regina to enter the canyon, though she had little idea of what she was searching for. Being alone in Baahir was fairly common, though the scent that invaded her sense was not. With a furrowing brow and a frown, the mare picked up a swift, yet elegant trot to track the scent to its source. Regina was not disappointed either, for this one was actually alive – unlike the other, more typical cases when it came to the canyon.

She did not recognize the other mare, nor had Angelus informed her of any new additions, thus her suspicions rose quickly as well as her guard. With a whinny to alert the other mare, Regina moved closer, her inky colored eyes assessing her carefully behind a mask of indifference. “What brings you to Baahir, stranger?” she inquired, her ark, smoky voice easily crossing the distance with a ringing command that befitted her standing as Queen.

status complete
tags: Abbadon
words: 380+
notes: n/a
speech thoughts

[skibbereenfarms]

     Is this what we have resorted to, mindlessly digging holes in the sand? No, this certainly would not do. Abaddon was not supposed to be pawing at specks of old rocks and bones, she had ambitions. It was difficult to chase such dreams with no one to crush beneath her on the way up, unfortunately. All she could stomp on was the sand, and so she did. Her hooves slammed against the ground in frustration, exhaling violently as though something nasty had crawled up her nostrils. The mare's head hung low, glaring bitterly at some invisible entity. The mare likely would have stayed in this position until the sun disappeared beyond the horizon, but fortunately, some curious sounds managed to grab hold of her attention. The roan's ears swiveled in a couple of random directions before locking in on something; the stench was overpowering. God did it reek. Oddly enough it was familiar, something she had picked up on in this general area. Someone was certainly keeping themselves busy.

     How typical that something should happen upon hope seeming lost. Normally she would have greeted such a smell with a sneer, but with things seeming so sluggish today, she settled with a normal gaze, her eyes being the only readable expression on her face. It certainly wasn't a friendly one, but then again, Abaddon didn't really do friendly. Upon turning to meet her company, black eyes fell upon the smokey mare. The day she would meet one of the group of worshipers has finally come, and luckily, she could say she was prepared. She would take care not to offend too much. Abaddon's plans did not involve leaving Baahir. "I don't appreciate being called stranger, stranger." Her tone was, surprisingly, not as rude as her words seemed to be. "As for my presence, well, I suppose you could say I've come to pay my condolences. Mother died here, you see." The elder mare had left the world with fire coursing through her veins, and Abaddon couldn't think of a better way for the wicked one to depart. When she felt around to it, she would often return to this canyon to spit on graves. It gave her something to do. "What of you, then?" Perhaps she was not in proper authority to inquire such things, but Abaddon believed in her own importance. The very thought of living the way this one did sickened the mare. "Haven't you got a clan to breed?" 

notes. abaddon that is not how you make allies.
words. 411
muse. Seven Devils by Florence + The Machine

[Mallory]

Things had been slow, admittedly, with the arrivals of the new daughters and even a son to Angelus’ growing lineage. Contrary to one would think, the arrival of a son and his subsequent place as heir to Angelus’ throne did not bother Regina. She knew it was expected of a firstborn son to take after his father or another son if he was a better fit. It was not a daughter’s place in the world they were creating. She had failed in providing Angelus with a son, and even though he never expressed any disappointment with another daughter, Regina felt it herself. While she would never begrudge her daughter’s life, she felt the weight of shame upon her shoulders for not giving him a son yet. For that was what a Queen did: they helped keep the lands in order, handled internal affairs, and birthed sons. Soon, she’d give him all three. There was no room for failure for Regina; failure was never an option.

A single brow rose slightly as the only change to Regina’s mask of indifference, though internally she seethed. Who did this mare think she was, to address her in such a manner? She has another thing coming if she thinks she can get away with it. “I would watch your tone, if I were you. Did your mother teach you to speak to royalty in such a manner?” she spoke coolly with a slight bite of an underlying warning. She was not one to be trifled with – Angelus made her his queen for a good reason. There was a dangerous flash behind her ink colored eyes that belied such a message. “I don’t believe you have the authority to make such demands, now do you?” she continued as lithe legs carried her forward. She began to circle the other mare much like a jungle cat would circle its prey, but gave enough distance to remain out of reach.

“As I believe your mother’s bones are probably turned to ash by now, I will only ask once: what is your true purpose for being here and your name?” she questioned, her smoky voice hardening with the irritation she was beginning to feel. She would not be undermined by anyone, especially by some strange mare with suspicious motives.


status complete
tags: Abbadon
words: 380+
notes: n/a
speech thoughts

[skibbereenfarms]

     Abaddon was a difficult beast to impress, that was for sure. In her mind, one's worth was determined by what accomplishments they could claim. Having mentioned royalty, Abaddon was only vaguely intrigued, as she has come to discover that titles could be thrown around like nothing at all. Perhaps she would have been impressed if she knew who this mare was, but alas, she did not. Blame the loner's anti-social nature, for maybe if she were more inclined to get to know the others who dwelled in this desert, then she would be a little more knowledgeable. Abaddon's acquaintances were few; a few travelers here and there were really the only ones she could genuinely tolerate. As most travelers did, however, company came and went, and so the mare was left alone. For a moment, she considered establishing herself as a dweller here in the desert, unassociated with the likes of her of course. It would be wise, should she decide to remain here for her days, but pride was a major factor for Abaddon. There was no way she could let miss royalty gain the upper hoof over her. Abaddon was not a lowlife for this one to boss around.

     The mare held her tongue for just one moment, allowing herself a second or two to examine this one further. Everything about her wanted to make the mare cringe, from the way she held herself to the way she spoke. The way she handled her power disappointed Abaddon, but there was one thing that prevented the mare from simply storming off. Needless to say, Abaddon did not appreciate her words, but one thing stuck out that managed to unfurl a small smirk. She seemed amused rather than happy. "As a matter of fact, yes she did." It was, perhaps, the only teaching from her mother which she could take pride in. It also enabled her to offend through someone else's words without risking major punishment. "Demanding respect where it should not be given, taking precious things away from those who have had it longer than they have...she used to go on for hours."

     Eyes black as night remained on the mare, even as she began circling Abaddon. She did not feel intimidated in the slightest, as she was just another creature, and these were just words. If anything, Abaddon grew annoyed, almost as though her patience was slowly withering away. This, as it usually did, left her with a bitter tongue and a pulsing headache. "Tell me, can you truly claim authority over something which you do not own?" Certainly an argument could be made that this was some stallion's land and she was here simply because they allowed her to be, but Abaddon herself was not a material possession, and she refused to be treated as such.

     "Forgive my reluctance to provide my name, for I can probably predict what you are going to do with it. Normally I would say you'd go scuttling back to your King and inform him of my offense to you, and not tolerating such an attitude, he'd carry himself out here and toss me out. But..." Abaddon squinted slightly, gaze sweeping over Regina once again. Despite her blatant hatred for this mare, she had suddenly come to realize something, and it was enough to tone down her negative attitude ever-so slightly. "...clearly you are capable of kicking me yourself." Silent once more, she chewed on a thought. Revealing her name gave this mare permission to do whatever she wanted with it, and though she still hated the idea of this mare, the very basic concept was that she held power. And that was something Abaddon wanted as well. "Abaddon, your highness. And I believe I told you the truth; I was spitting on graves for sport."

notes. none.
words. 635
muse. Mosquito by Yeah Yeah Yeahs

[Hud]

Tonto could sense unrest in his canyon.

The white and black stallion pivoted 180 degrees on his hind legs when his nose caught scent of two distinct equines not far from his location. Scout sat idly on Tonto's poll, squawking as his perch turned so quickly unannounced. Tonto had been charged with the duty of keeping the peace within the jagged borderland of Angelus' reign. He would tend to his red rocks as his ancestors had done - with valor.

Tonto took off at a gallop, sure that the equines were a ways away. Closer and closer, the horse knew he would be upon them soon. Scout followed closely, taking his place on Tonto's poll as the stallion slowed. The canyon widened here, and Tonto recognized one of the two mares almost instantly as his chieftain's queen. Regina seemed to be confronting a newcomer - another mare. The stallion stood many paces away, his nostrils flaring a bit as he recovered his composure. Tonto's brows were quite furrowed, his mouth in his usual frown. Scanning the area around them quickly, the stallion noted the odd disruptions of the earth beneath the roan visitor. What had happened here? Was Regina angry with the newcomer? Unnecessary breaking of earth heated Tonto to no end.

It was difficult for Tonto to read the situation. "Regina," the stallion huffed. "Outsider bothers you." He wanted an explanation. Tonto would know everything that went on in his canyon, else what sort of guardian was he?

OOC:

[nala]

Cool Cat Catherine.
"The danger is I'm dangerous."

   

To be one hundred percent honest, Catherine's mind had never been so alert then when she was in the desert. Her senses were growing more and more heightened as each and every day passed by. That is after the strangely quiet stallion and his equally strange bird friend had showed her to the water. As if the drink was one from the pool of eternal life itself, the mare instantly felt renewed in her new surroundings.

    After her renewal, the pale mare scavenged, not quite sure how to get home, but also not quite sure she even wanted to. She didn't go about hassling the painted stallion, but still she followed his trails throughout the canyon, creating herself a mental map of the area so she could slowly become less and less dependent on him.

    Not only had Cate found a new heightened sense of being, the mare had also thinned out and toned up since her arrival to Dask. She was feeling amazing all around, and her body was just a symbol of the awe. Pip circled above her, his own feelings a cloud of companionship to her own. They were not only surviving here, but thriving. It was nearly time to seek out the one she'd originally planned to meet. The king. Angelus. The one they were all whispering about.

    As she moved today, without thinking her ears were alert. Pip's eyes mimicked her and together they found the source of annoying screeches. Obviously the voice's were female, and they quickly brought the mare back to her childhood, the arguing of her aunt and mother was mirrored in the present day situation. But then came the voice of the painted stranger. He was closer then she'd originally thought. As she approached, quietly, she only hoped he wouldn't think she was stalking him. It was obvious what she needed to do though. The lighter of the mare's, the predator, called herself royalty. She was the one Cate needed council with.

ooc: just gonna throw Cate in there. don't kill her. xD