lie to me [cress]

[crow]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,500,true][bg=FFFFFF] i've been looking in the mirror for so long that i've come to believe my soul's on the other side and i bleed, i bleed ---> The storm that had kicked up was possibly the darkest and most violent she had witnessed since she had made her home in Sideth lands. The wind blew shards of falling ice every which direction, the snow falling so thick that it was nearly impossible to see a foot in any direction. The bite of the air chilled even the most thickly coated of animals. Clouds covered the sky, blotting out what little light the crescent moon would make. Animals hid away in their nests, retreating from the onslaught of the maelstrom, curling into themselves to keep from freezing. One unlucky raven had been caught out in the weather, and quickly found its feathers coated with ice, its wings too heavy to beat. Like a falling star it plummeted into the ever growing sea of snow, and was never seen again. No creature dared venture out, no matter how dire the reason. ---> But there were those who possessed the skill--she preferred to say skill as opposed to ability because anyone can have the ability to do something, but you must have skill to do it well--to beat back the storm and encase themselves in a protective bubble of warmth. A brilliant flash of blue lit up the pitch black, igniting, wavering, then burning every brighter. Yards away from the spot of the fallen raven stood a white mare, her body nearly invisible in the pale of the snow: the source of the light. Around her neck, hung from a black chain, was an onyx pearl that marked her as a Sideth. Wound around her forelock, directing it to the left side of her face and contrasting in an almost beautiful manner to her white hair, was a simple wire with a green stone that hung down an inch or two. But perhaps the most peculiar thing about the mare was her legs. It was nothing to do with the actual appendages themselves, but rather that which lapped at them. ---> Her hooves, black as the night around her, birthed blue flame. This flame, in turn, climbed up her limbs, licking at her shoulders and hips. The fur where the flame touched showed no sign of it: her pelt was still stunningly white, the black metal bracelet around her right ankle, smelted into the shape of bones and bearing a tigerseye stone, was pristine, but there was an immense heat coming from the flame. As was denoted by the way the snow seemed shrink back in fear before her, melting away in a rather large radius. The mare shook her mane briefly, taking a step to the side. The ground where she previously stood was charred in the shape of her hooves, the very dirt blackened by the touch. With a snort the mare again shook her mane, annoyed with the feeling of the snow as it attempted to settle onto her pelt, only to be vaporized. This left her with a perpetual steam that rose from her coat, as though she was some spawn from hell. Perhaps that was what she wanted others to think. Why else would she be out in a storm such as this? and i breathe, i breathe no more NOTES. i'm super excited to get this plot going <3

[Cress is awayy!]

GLAXEU.

If I were to die tonight
Would it tear you apart?
Would you yell it from the rooftops down?
Until it's over -
And we're older

The bitter wind scorched the ice cold ground with streaks of disheveled earth. Drops of frozen liquifaction scored the terra in minuscule dribbles, falling from the granite mouth heavenward. It bit into the tender lithosphere with harsh fingers, nails scrabbling against the frostbitten being of the world. This was the realm of the Sidethians. A place with wretchedly horrible inhabitants and decor alike, hardly aesthetically pleasing. It bore no beauty, nothing even remotely skin deep at the least. It was but an empty shell of freezing nothingness, a barren wasteland that one race had taken a liking to. One evil, cruel race. Though all Sideths were not necessarily taking liking to the execrable sort of life. Some merely took to it for simple conveniance, nothing more. The stygian vixen that roamed the numbed area now certainly wasn't so hollow. Glaxeu was a complex ess, a personality null of occasional fury, simply inflated with the constant urge to terrorize.

Sifting through the frozen sludge without hindrance, the mare easily navigated the frozen wasteland. Every being that cowered in her shadow was now buried deep in their realm, shivering under packs of snow. Pathetic. The parable motives of the wind she did not care for, merely spited. How was she to have a bit of fun when all prey was busily scattering to their dens? Pity. Indulging in the howling breeze, she raised her arabic skull; curvaceous nape overflowing with her whipping dreads. In this stark freeze, she stuck out like a sore thumb. And oh, how she loved it. The only bit of her not in the slightest camouflaged was her exquisite apex. An equality of hue to the snow, her ivory cerebrum was a brilliant white. A foggy grey dotting the socket in which her ceruleans lay, but nothing more than emptiness upon her jowls. Aside from this impairment of brilliancy, she had but another, simple marking. A coronet stretching about her front left hoof, otherwise - she was merely a splash of darkness amid this wasteland. A witch, patiently awaiting her next apple to poison.

Tongue tickling her ivories as she walked, her tail sweeping gallantly in the rough winds, the mare found herself soon upon a new being. In the midst of this horrific snow storm, quite like herself. It startled Glaxeu, having figured she was but the only one with the guts to sashay so freely about this wretched place. In fact, the Sidethian Queen rather liked the snow, most especially when it was so viciously active. All seventeen point two hands of her lean frame flexed with each stride, sinews piling in abundance as she bounced toward this opposing ess. Her strands of ebony whipped against her skin in the putrid winds, blowing death in her wake.

Nearing this bleached femmora, Glaxeu felt remarkably puny. She was so content upon being her seventeen hands, she rarely found another any taller. Even a hand or two more than she felt mountainous, and she couldn't say she particularly liked it. Staring at this vixen, Glaxeu's lungs swelled with a slight gasp. Her hooves were illuminated by marvelous cerulean hues, equivalent to the ocean's prussian. But, the kindling colors were that of fire, licking hungrily up the fae's sides but leaving no marring. She'd approached the harlot from the back, no doubt a clever attempt of surprise on her part, thus she was temporarily enabled to observe this broad further. She had long, extravagant whipcords, woven carefully together in hues of alabaster and very light, carefully dyed greys. Flicking her ivories with a slender, pink muscle, Glaxeu dragged out the silence for but a moment longer before her melodious lyrics pierced the howling breeze.

Some small, ignored part of her uttered that this other mare wouldn't be able to hear a word she spoke, but still - nothing was impossible to Glaxeu. "Lovely to know I'm not the only one to think the weather rather... mmm.. what's the word?" She paused, her paper thins flaring curiously. "Exorbitantly beautiful." She smiled, moving her lissome frame to the front of this snow white. Navigating in a quick, vivacious liquid movement, she stood to watch for a reaction. With her luck over the past few days, this ess would be but another whore with a temper too big for her ass.



xxx Haha, me and you both! Totally pumped for this! =D

[crow]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,500,true][bg=FFFFFF] all the little pieces falling, shatter shards of me and i bleed, i bleed ---> The white mare snorted, her harks pinned against her skull to keep out the snow, letting her eyes fall shut. The moment her eyelids closed completely the flames around her legs dropped to simply the smoldering embers of her hooves. This allowed the storm to touch the mare for the first time, if one could call it that. Yet, 'touch' seemed like a gross understatement. Ravaged is more like it. The vicious winds raked shards of ice down her sides, heaving her thick frame to and fro as a crowd would an unlucky car during a riot. For the briefest of moments it seemed as though the behemoth was going to give way to the wind and topple over. The snow that had quickly gathered in closer to her seemed to twinkle in anticipation, eagerly awaiting the moment it could embrace that which had, thus far, been untouchable. It never happened. ---> The sound of a voice sent an immediate flare of blue heat up the mare's legs, the storm shrinking back in fear, hissing in surprise. Torsch turned her head to the side, allowing her electric blue gaze to regard the dark horse that had interrupted. Torsch's mug cracked into a grin of both amusement and pleasure. Company, specifically when in such strange circumstances, was much appreciated. And strange this meeting was indeed. She observed how fluidly the mare moved, admired the way her tendons flexed and muscles defined themselves, as she made her way around to Torsch's front. The white draft stomped a hoof, changing the fire around her front right leg from blue to red. This flame had twice the light to it, and illuminated the full extent of the dark horse's body. Torsch's grin spread. She was delicately, ornately, crafted. Her legs mere picks next to the draft's. Her face was etched beautifully in alabaster, tinted with grey, though Torsch had to admit she wasn't particularly fond of the dished skull that was reminiscent of the puny arabian breed. Only... it wasn't as pronounced as she had seen before, and this pleased her greatly. ---> "Blessed be." The words had a suggestive tone to them, accompanied by a sly smile from the corner of her mouth. The greeting was normal for the white mare, so far as words went, but the tone to this meeting was something new altogether. Torsch's gaze caught the coronet on the mare's left leg, passing over it as though it was nothing big, and yet her mind drank it in. "I can think of no better way to spend one's time than in the fury of a storm. The energ-" The draft's words caught in her throat as she finally allowed herself to gaze into those icy eyes. She had been subconsciously avoiding them for fear of getting lost within their alluring gaze, but it made no different now. All that mattered to her was that she search those blue crystals, search for the mare's very soul. Somewhere something in the back of her mind hoped that the wind had carried away the beginning of her second sentence, as though it had never existed, and that she would not be left standing an idiot as she stared restlessly into this unnamed mare's orbs. and i breathe, i breathe no more NOTES. feel free to smack me upside the head for taking so long to reply.

[Cress is awayy!]

the eyes around me are so cold ,

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w i t h e v e r y c h a n c e t h e y s t e a l m y s o u l. s o w a l k w i t h m e,
talk with me, hold my hand i'm stumbling. the consequence buries me alive.[/color][/font]

[/i][/color] Her harks were forced to strain to take in the sound, managing with an abundance of effort. Cerebrum inclined at a peculiar angle, the dove absentmindedly nodded her pate at the draft's greeting. Ah, and then it struck her. She knew quite well who this snow white Queen was. Mug tilting against her chest in a quick, non-submissive bow, the fae's lips quirked into a careful smile. "You must be Torsch." In spite of the casual air of her words, she spoke with the painful screech of a banshee, aiming to outdo the roar of the snowstorm. In comparison to the draft ess, Glaxeu was puny. She also didn't bare the onslaught of flames dancing along Torsch's pistons. Therefore, the crystalline snow was far more eager to rock her slender, lissome bod. Barely able to see through the opaque haze of frost, she squinted worthlessly, standing at the full extent of her height. "I can think of no better way to spend one's time than in the fury of a storm. The energ. . . ." It was then that the mare's eyes trained in the depths of her own ceruleans. Glaxeu felt oddly invaded as she gazed back, her forelock violently whipping in the way of her optics, hindering her already futile ability to see. Blinded in one, left optic, and otherwise clouded in the other. The ebon mare felt horribly vulnerable, nonetheless - she stood her ground.

Had she been a kinder soul, she would’ve approached the stare-down with heartfelt romanticism, but she was far from such a thing. Glaxeu did not pretend to be immune to the poison of love, affection, or mere attraction - but she did not crave it's being as many did. Nor did she much appreciate the feeling. So she, rather shyly, ducked her visage from the other being. Awkwardly turning her skull in a manner she soon condemned to be cowardly. A bitter sigh contorted her nares and she turned skull back to Torsch. Why was she so damn petty? Clearing her throat yet again, the mare spoke. "I am Glaxeu. Queen of Lethalex... I already know who you are." She purred. A lofty, carefully etched demeanor of knowledge marring her introduction.





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can you fix what's made to be broken ?[/i][/color][/size][/font]
i c a n ' t f i x w h a t ' s m a d e t o b e. m y h e a r t i s t a t t o o e d o n m y s l e e v e
i'm not hiding, no. it only hurts to breathe. my heart is tattooed on my sleeve.
tag: crow w/ torsch words: 565 voice: helen mcCrory Notes: xD It's okay! [/color][/font]
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this template was made by ALICE! of Caution 2.0.
the lyrics are "on my sleeve" by creed. do not remove credit.
do not steal, modify, edit, or use without creator's consent.

[crow]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,500,true][bg=FFFFFF] too sharp to put back together too small to matter and i bleed, i bleed ---> The white mare remained silent, her gaze ever steady. Her entire body tensed, the muscles contracting as though she was prepared to leap headfirst into the mare's visage. She could see the delicate lines of cones and rods within each orb, see how her pupils expanded and contracted as the light from Torsch's flame danced across her face. She noticed a difference between the two eyes, and it disturbed her. Focusing more upon the mare's left eye, she scrutinized it carefully, her gaze switching back and forth so that she may compare. The pupil in that left eye did not expand nor contract. The eye moved to track the same path as the right, but the cones didn't rotate and the rods didn't stand. It was... blind. The thought of this mare having an imperfection such as blindness struck Torsch as unjust. How could someone or something think to mar this beauty of this horse? To render her vulnerable should she lose sight in her other eye? Just then the wind whipped the mare's forelock over her right eye, and Torsch emerged from her trance. ---> The white mare blinked, her mind fuzzy and slow, as if she had just woken from a slumber. Her eyes refocused on the mare before her, in time to see her tuck her head away as though she was shy. The action caught Torsch in a conundrum. Shyness is cowardice. Cowardice meant no right to live. But the movement had seemed so elegant. So beautifully performed, with a hint of force, an uncomfortable twitch. The mare wasn't a coward, she was uncomfortable. Uncomfortable was the norm around Torsch. Not many could get comfortable in her presence. But this mare, she had introduced herself as Glaxeu--Glaxeu? The name had a harsh ring to it but rolled off the tongue like warm blood. The white mare couldn't help but test it out. "Glaxeu..." Her voice was soft, well hidden beneath the roar of the storm that so furiously surrounded them. A warm feeling spread through her body as she said the word, and that's all it was, a simple word. It felt like so much more. It felt like it was the key to something important, to a door that had been locked, and that she desperately sought to open. ---> She noticed the shivering of Glaxeu's body, however slight, and was unsettled. "Let us retreat from this storm. I have a safe-haven not far that we can return to." Torsch was forced to put power behind her words to bring the volume above that of the storm's, and to drown out the sickly desperation in her tone. Suddenly she was eager. Eager that the mare say yes. That they trek the miles it was from here to The Shadow Gallery. She was eager to show this mare her home, make her comfortable, stop that blasted shivering. But, more than that, something inside her was eager to have Glaxeu alone in the palace. Where no one would hear, or see, to judge. Alone. A shiver ran down the white mare's spine, and it wasn't caused by the fury of the storm. and i breathe, i breathe no more NOTES. if they get together before or during the sitewide plot then Glaxeu will end up being one of the Queens of the Sideth xD how motivational is that? :P