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HERD MEETING | WINTER IS HERE

@[Bones] 05-26-2019 @ 07:35 PM
#1
Bonecarver

Bones

RankBaron
LevelThree
ClassSorcerer
Gender & HeightStallion, 19hh
Age & Season16 Winter ❅
Crystals 855  ✦
WriterKiwi, 65 posts

bones



Winter. It had arrived, and far too soon for the liking of the misfit king. Upon the disappearance of Xzavier from the Vromme hold there had been a significant shift in the personality of the undead sovereign. He found himself far more easily outraged, something that had been a much more rare occurrence before. The emotions that he had been learning had begun to bubble over, leaving Bones somewhat of a mess. Finding parallels in the feelings of some of his hold members to Xzavier as he felt for his own "child" had made it even more difficult on him. He found trouble leaving Bram alone, even in the most trusted of hands or guarded by a myriad of the living and the dead. Despite his size, Bram was a child-- at least mentally. Raised only the last season he was still learning, though so was his father. Even now as he paced back and forth across the wetlands of Vromme, Bram was close by. He was flanked by soldiers and a small elderly pony named Gloria. Though most of the citizens of Vromme had taken to calling her "Granny" over the years. She was the unofficial baby sitter of most of the children that called the south their home.

Finally the skeleton stopped his incessant pacing and turned his head toward the gathered crowd. Bones' voice scratched and creaked as he began, almost as though his voice had gone rough from under use. "Citizens of Vromme." He paused, the orb that rested within his skull burning like a fierce fire. "Winter has come. Bitter cold. Biting wind. Nip, nip, nip in the air. Safety together. All are once again invited to take solace as one. Family." While his words still had their erratic charm of his usual musings, there was something almost eloquent in the way he spoke. And one squinted, it seemed as though one of his advisers was muttering most of those words under his breath. "Most may have heard, there is a missing child." The orb dimmed for a moment, his teeth gnashing together with a horrible sound. Bones' voice grew deeper now, his tail slapping against the bones of his hind legs. "Taken straight from our wilds. Purple of body and pure of mind. Xzavier. I urge you-- open your eyes, don't go blind. If you see him, hear of him, think of anything...tell someone." His voice trailed off, his orb sliding to the right to focus upon Bram for a moment.

The "colt" was playing with a frog he'd found in the mire, giddily nipping at the air around it and pawing through the muck. Overzealous and utterly clueless about the current affairs of the kingdom. Bram would never grow to lead the hold. Bones felt it a disservice to who Bram had once been. Instead upon the day he wished to enter the guard he would be allowed. Or would he? Bones could feel an urge to lock his son up and never let him from his sight. All of Vromme was important to him, of course-- but if losing a child had done such an impact on him what would losing his own child do to him? "I urge you now to speak. Thoughts, ideas...a shriek, a creak, a squeak. Anything."

ooc: had him address the 'crowd' in the first post so people don't have to just post showing up and nothing else! wanted to get the ball rolling <3

 @[namehere]



Mild power play allowed, ie touching and entering personal space.
@[LaLaurie] 05-26-2019 @ 08:44 PM
#2
Inactive

LaLaurie

RankPathfinder
LevelOne
ClassMagister
Gender & HeightMare, 15.3hh
Age & Season8 Autumn ☁
Crystals 195  ✦
WriterSoupi, 26 posts

lalaurie
give me your hand in flesh, give me your hand in death

It seemed the only time that LaLaurie saw any of her Vromme family were at these congested, all too tight, meetings. Keeping to the outskirts helped some of the unease and soothed the contents of her stomach but the masses of people only reminded her of unpleasant crowds. Hazel eyes fell, finding it difficult to stifle the impending memories that assaulted her otherwise collected exterior. Mud... mud squelched beneath the hooves of the shifting Vromme people as they waited with bated breath for what had their sovereign so upset. But it wasn't Eng's mire that LaLaurie saw. It was the filth of prisoner camps. In it she saw the reflection of herself, battered and bruised, flanked by the ghosts of her past. All too thin, all too frail, the Strandings had huddled for warmth in the frigid nights as they - and the rest of Riftmarch - suffered under the tyranny of Benezia's invasion. Every time one of their moved the thick ilk of mud popped, squealed, or suctioned to the hooves of the prisoners.

It was a marvel she'd thought it wise to remain in Vromme at all, with all of its earthly familiarities to her previous home (now destroyed, in ruins, burnt rubble). Why had she stopped here? What had compelled her? As the anxiety rose, threatening to wet the lower of her lids, the phantom illusions of her tortured past disappeared and the only Strandings left staring into the mud was herself and the light consuming motes that indicated Jakob's otherworldly presence. They shuddered beside her, holding shape somewhat to his former self, but still unable to keep entirely still. Unconcerned with what others may think, she tossed her dull hazel eyes towards him, saw the motes slip across her visage but did not feel them. A sigh slipped slowly through her twin nares as she tried calming herself. Jakob's soothing was a difficult, cruel torture in and of itself, despite his well wishes and good intentions. But she'd try. She'd try as long as he was there. When he was gone? Only then could she fail.

Bones hoarse declaration snapped her away from her late betrothed, squinting unto the dias where he had once paced furiously. He spoke of winter, and LaLaurie felt another tingling reminder of fear. The ice storms from yesteryear had proven a nearly impassable foe. Bodies had been found when the weather had broken - not just in local areas but across the entirety of the Valley. While many questioned Bones (both as a leader and as a living creature), LaLaurie had been able to witness his rule from the first day. A strong sense of preservation for his kingdom and people drove him, much like Mikhail. Perhaps Bones would find himself lucky... be half the tactician and utilize half the wit of Mikhail's merchant's mind. Hell... even with that, he'd be a king she'd loyally follow.

But, this public service announcement quickly turned. She'd almost considered that this was a simple formality - a reminder to the people to be on their guard as the hardest of seasons fell upon them. Yet, their sovereign spoke of a missing child. LaLaurie's heart seemed to quiver, her breath momentarily loss. A kidnapping? Harks fell back onto her naked nape as she scanned the crowd for anyone who was willing to respond to the king. But silence met him. Well... not silence. Gasps, some mares squealed with horror, and father's gazes hardened. And all LaLaurie wondered, in the tumultuous coils of terror that rippled through the people... did the kidnapped understand just what they had done? To harm one was to harm all... Bones had made sure of the mentality.



TAGGED: Bones
WC: 612
MUSE: 3/5
OOC: don't mind lala


coding © soupi
manip © aliyaahgrl @ dA



powerplay allowed
within reasonable limits!

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