The disease that wiped the earth of mankind has returned, and it's starting to change its hosts somehow. Reports of unearthly powers are arising all over Toren while more and more become infected.
updates
< 11 JULY 2017 > The staff auditions and OTMs are officially OVER. I'd like to welcome our two new staffers - Lutheus and Crowenth! There will be some new events soon, as well as a big announcement - so watch this space.
< 20 JUNE 2017 > ATTENTION! Staff auditions are up and running. Please click here if you are interested in helping me run Clash.
< 06 JUNE 2017 > It hasn't been too long since we've opened - but we've already got a fresh new look. If you find any bugs in our new skin, please let me know so that I can fix it. Old members might have to update their avatar links and profile info! x
< 07 MAY 2017 > CLASH has officially been reopened and is ready for action! The plot, rules and canons have been revised - read more about it here.
The sound of hooves crashing onto stone with purposeful force rang out in the peaceful silence of the early morning, echoing at the slightest. As the quivering protests of the large, flat rock faded, the sound of a large creature moving in the water resonated lightly.
She snorted irritably at the snapping reptiles, who fled into the water, large claws scratching against the hard surface. This move was followed by an array of plops as they tumbled into the water. The mare that had frightened them felt a tinge of disappointment at the fact that she had not been able to hit one, and then heaved herself onto the rock, pulling herself from the water with slight difficulty because of the height.
She stood upon the warm stone, shaking out her mane and tail, eyes narrowing as the wet cords of her banner stung her neck. Soaked hairs clung to her rump in an almost desperate manner, landing in a manner that made them wrap around her legs and send water dripping down them. Clumps of algae varying in size and hue had woven themselves into her mane and tail, so the almond, alabaster-spotted mare took a moment to remove them and throw them in the direction of the pesky creatures whose sunbathing she had interrupted.
Astyn, despite her better judgement, lowered herself down onto the large, flat rock that protruded from the swamp. It was set at a shallow angle that made it perfectly for sunbathing, but she knew that this was both a blessing and a curse. Her eyes continuously scoped out the trees around her for any snakes that may try and steal her spot on the comfortable perch. She had been wandering through this damned swamp for hours and had consequentially gotten herself lost, though she would never admit such a prospect. Astyn, lost? HA!
The flaxen-maned mare started slightly as a massive plop sounded a couple of feet to her right, opposite of where she had been looking at the time. In the moment it took to whip around to find the source of the noise it had disappeared into the water. She shifted uncomfortably disliking this swamp more and more with every passing moment. She rose, dragging herself to her hooves and staring down into the water. She kept her head over the rock so nothing could jump up and snag her muzzle, but she was eager to find what had made such a large plop. She knew it couldn't be anything good, and pondered over the possibility of a very large snake falling from the tree. Paranoia pricked her conscience and she tossed her head a bit, an agitated snort exploding from her nostrils.
Her cyan gaze grazed over the water's surface, muscles tensing as she focused on the water and tried to decipher its contents.
This place fucking sucks.
words; 478 muse; 06/10 ooc; Agh sorry for the bad post, I swear the next will be better. :c
{ Dreamless sleep will fall like a deep, poisoned well On the steeple birds and this red-light hotel}
The sun was just beginning to rise in the east just as it had for a thousand years and would continue to do for a thousand years more. Apollo made a slow conquest of the night, pushing his darker brother into exile with unyielding force. As the soft rays swept over the land, they began to illuminate a ghostly landscape. Iratus swamp was cloaked in a robe of impenetrable fog. Here, Nyx still reigned supreme. The coming heat of the day would only create more of the nebulous mists. The contorted branches of the drowning trees, reached out of the haze like the claws of the dying- desperate to latch on to something ( or someone) and drag them along to the netherworld. It was indeed, a graveyard. The ancient rulers of the forest, once proud oaks and sturdy pines, had seen their kingdoms rise, fall and eventually… disappear. Twisted, hollowed, skeletons were all that now remained. The silent millennia of time had simply plodded onward, blind to the troubles of a transient world. And… new inhabitants had come to occupy the land, ones who could tolerate the excess of water. Mysterious willows and dense mangroves had taken root, between the gravesites of past. The age of glory had indeed passed, but life continued on.
Ixchel wound her way through the dense undergrowth, carefully picking the path of least resistance. Rising to the challenge of heavy plant growth, the xanthippe’s grey dancer’s bodice began to pick up speed as she wove back and forth through the undergrowth. Her emerald eyes darted as they chose the appropriate placement for her sharp knives. The swamp’s terrain was unforgiving, soft crumbling earth studded with razor edged rocks and branches. One misstep and her spindly pistons would shatter in two. It was a rather simple game, but exhilarating none the less. She picked up her pace from a trot, to a canter, finally to a full on gallop. The difficulty of her maneuvers had increased exponentially with each gain in speed, and she began to suffer collateral damage for her game. Swerving to the right to avoid a javelin like branch, Ixchel felt a sharp pain on her right. This was, of course, entirely unacceptable. She was livid with herself- primarily for the mistake and secondly for the unnecessarily deep scar that would be added to her collection. One could not expect to gain male attention if they looked more like a carcass than a living thing. She would have to run this path again to do it correctly or…suffer the consequences. Ixchel exhaled sharply as she broke upon an open clearing; she had stumbled into ankle dep water and the impact of the femme’s hooves sent up great plumes of spray about her. Enough.
{Pour your bitter tea for our sweet, liquored host Perfect polished stones, but this breeze beats you both. }
Ixchel’s sweat lathered sides heaved as the scarlet paint poured from the wound. The regina swung her head back to take inventory on the damage; it was a substantial gash… but only a cut. It would heal within the week and seemed unlikely to hinder her movement. Ixchel’s nares quivered as she examined the scene around her, there was another equine in the vicinity. The scent was strong, but nevertheless undeniably feminine. Ah, how… interesting. . Lets see what this was all about. Another mare in the swamp? She was either a rebellious b*tch like herself, or some helpless little wench who had gotten herself lost. Ixchel didn’t particularly care for either of the two possibilities- both, as far as she was concerned, were damned nuisances. But Ixchel was in what might be called as one of her “social” moods. After all it would be rather… amusing to pick apart the other female.
Strutting back to solid ground, Ixchel glided along the circumference of the water-logged crater. Gradually, the source of the scent became visible to her aquamarine optics. A lone roan witch was sunning herself upon a massive grey stone. She was of medium height but possessed a muscular build that suggested thoroughbred ancestry. Her physique was mottled in the fashion of a bay roan, but was distinguished by a bright white swath of color upon her back right pillar. Ixchel observed that the mare continually looked about her, as if fearful of some unknown attacker. Odd… what did she have to be afraid of? And then, Ixchel saw it. A colossal anaconda was sliding into the water with sinister smoothness. It dropped the last fourth of its body into the water, producing a resounding “plop.” The other mare’s auds perked and swivled… seeking, seeking, seeking for the source. Oh, darling, you aren’t going to find him that way . Snakes are silent killers. A cruel smile twisted across her maw, oh yes, she could relate to these creatures. But then, the mare began to watch the water for her attacker. Good, very good. Obviously the b*ch had been around the block a time or two. Perhaps she was worth the time. The harlot’s auricles swiveled as she heard the mare speak “This place fucking sucks”. So she had an attitude did she? This could end in bloodshed.
Ixchel pushed forward from the undergrowth out into the clearing and made her way to the overhang above the rock. Her footfalls rang out as her hooves clattered on the stone. Crown held high and eyes alert, Ixchel could not suppress her playful grin. Coming to a halt, she opened her kissers and casually threw out her words in her bell like voice. I couldn’t agree more with you dearie, but believe me- I have seen far worse. The altitude of the overhang had given her the advantage of increased visibility and could see the thick bodied snake about a foot or so below the water. It was beginning to make its way towards the mare, who unfortunately (because of her angle) wouldn’t be able to see it until it was too late. It might be entertaining to watch the mare and the snake do battle, but Ixchel doubted that the femme would feel the same way. Well here’s my god damn good deed for the day. Are you happy now b*ches?
Might I suggest that you take two steps backward?
{So lay your pistol down, The duty of men never fell to you... Your friends, they are jewels, twice as beautiful and few }
{m o t s: 1,027 } {é g é r i e: Waking up, but my lyricism just isn't here. } {a u t e r: Friends or foes? She is being nicer than normal!}
A voice made her dial snap to the figure of a dapple grey femme hardly shorter than herself. Her gaze narrowed further as her lyrics drifted into the appaloosa's auds, mingling around her mind and injecting their meaning into her brain. She examined the fae briefly before remembering the snake, and drew her eyes back to the water, knowing that she shouldn't let her guard down for very long, lest the reptile make an attempt to strike. This proved to be a wise move, as the moment she looked she saw it surface and coil. Astyn danced backwards as it flung itself towards her, using a sunken log that was just under the water as support.
Her body turned toward the snake, which fell upon the rock, and at the same time the stranger that had warned her. The anaconda lunged once more, setting its sights higher, as it was aware of the sharp hooves that horses bore. The snake could find no traction on the surface it landed on, though, and fell down once more. The sun flashed on a wide gem on her chest, which was framed with pure silver. The stone was of pale beige at its bottom, which melted into a glimmering mix of claret and maroon, and from there morphed into varying shades of lavender and violet. The frame around the mineral was shaped vaguely like a rough heart, and silver tendrils curled from the base of it. Those who knew well of the disease and its treatments had often heard of this item--it was a carnicula stone. As she shifted her weight to a more defensive position, Astyn flinched as the spike that was impaled into her chest quivered at the slightest. It hadn't been put in too long ago, and the area was still a bit sore.
Astyn briefly lifted her upper body into the air, her hooves aiming to come down onto the snake's head. It made a move to dodge the sharp daggers, but was too slow in its efforts and was clipped by it. With a hiss it withdrew slightly, but another crash of hooves and another gash in its side later it thought better of lunging again. This time as the hooves came down it was quick about moving onto her leg, and slithered up her leg, quickly coiling around it and tensing it's muscles to begin the process of constriction. Knowing that this creature bore the power to break her leg, she lashed at it with her teeth in an attempt to free herself from it. She managed to sink her ivories right behind the snake's head, which was enough to threaten the creature's life and make it loosen its grip just enough to allow for Astyn's escape. She flung it onto the stone and turned, sharply swinging her back hooves at the dangerous snake as she ushered it back into the water. She snorted at it's departure, and then turned her gaze quickly back to where the other mare had been to check and see if she was still here.
"Thanks for the warning," she grumbled, whether the mare was still present or not. Astyn was a prideful creature that hated admitting that she was wrong or being in the debt of another. She half-hoped that the femme had left and not heard the remark, though such was unlikely.
words; 562 muse; 08/10 ooc; Hopefully this was decent and you didn't mind me taking out the snake already. ^^;
CBOX
CLASH TAG BOX: This little guy is for member tagging purposes only. Any unrelated or guest messages will be deleted. Members - feel free to
tag others or share any updated threads! You can use the [url] tags to link.
AFFILIATES
The skin OTHERWORLD was made by JAWN of WICKED WONDERLAND and modified.
CLASH! was created by OMEGALOMANIAC. Header image created by OMEGALOMANIAC.
Images belong to their respective artists. All codes and scripts belong to their respective coders. Please DO NOT take anything without the owners' permission.
