Horse Eden: Fun Horse Game For Equestrians

November 13, 2024 04:05 PM

Posts: 561
#1255578
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Quixor

"If you were given a choice what would you do with it?" He says quietly, turning to face her now. His gaze cold. He reconsidered his question, wondering whether he truly wanted to know the answer from her. "This power, I need to ensure it has a future" His voice low and gruff.

He could hear the faint steps reappearing outside the room, as the doors opened. The droid reappeared. Quxior flicked his gaze to it and nods for it to speak. "The generals are here, Sir" it paused. "They're waiting in the war room".

Quixor moved across the room, it almost appeared as if he were floating with the long strides, filled with a renewed sense of purpose, as he moved out into the wide hall, following the droid that led the way down, deeper into the middle of the palace, into the war room.

Soliders appeared, standing guard at the huge, towering double doors, as they opened for Quixor's arrival. Inside the light cast an eerie glow. In the middle of the room was a huge holographic table, that seemed to contain a map flicking through the quadrant's of space that the legion was known to control. Off to one side was a big holographic image of the planet they stood on, Valthara. A live feed featured the ships in orbit along with the drones that carried out inter-planetary work from nearby moons.

Quixor's presence seemed to make this much smaller room hum with power. His commanding generals gathered around the table. "Generals" He says by way of greeting. "I'm sure you know why I'm here. I need to discuss a new strategy, one where we can crush the coailition and their stance around the Nexus. There forces are impeding outwards, a sign of expansion, control and most importantly false governing policies that wish to wipe us from the map and rule over us with an iron fist. How long will it take for us to be mere mindless soliders, collected into their void of experiments, rigirous laws and dumbfounded politics" He said with a sharpness to his tone. The generals murmured in agreement. "But first, I've brought my second in command to reveal some information, new information" He glances back at Rosaline, turning for her to take her place to share what she knows.

Cassiopeia

Cass listens for Seb, who returns with the remote, the creature distracted by the captain. Cass hands the remote to Seb and whispers to her team. "Right, we need a distraction. Jones, get Zyrix to get the creature's attention. Seb we need chains and a some sort of blindfold and muzzle for the creature." She pasuses "And somehow, I need to get this remote to the captain." She mutters.

In quick formation, the crew scuttle off, time was running out.

In what seemed like forever, the crew were in position. Zyrix grinned licking his lips at Cass. She rolls her eyes, knowing he still hadn't forgiven her for the defeat at the card game earlier but right now, the focus was on securing the creature. Zyrix's and his huge lizard form, now towered over the creature.

42 swung his head round, just as Zyrix grabbed hold of its muzzle, securing it, into a head lock. "Now!" He called out, his voice low and gruff. 42 screeches and howls, coiling and writhing in Zyrix's grip. The creature's tail, wraps itself around the arms of the Zyrix, attempting to cut off the blood supply to release it's grip.

Cass appears at the captain's side, handing him the remote. She felt the relief of giving it to him, for she daren't allow the creature to turn on her. The muzzle of the creature breaks free, as the Zyrix, struggles with his grip and arm wrapped around it's throat. Cass kicks it in the head before Zyrix regains his grip. Seb moves across, holding chains, the team working quickly and efficiently to secure the creature.

Zyrix looks at the captain. "Let me know when you want me to let go captain, then you can zap the thing back to hell" He stutters, as the beasts huge hulking form, tries to rise up, slamming him into the roof of the bridge.

November 13, 2024 04:33 PM

Posts: 1359
#1255598
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ROSALINE

Rosaline stood at the threshold of the war room, feeling the weight of Quixor’s words settle over her like a cloak. She hadn’t moved when he’d called her forward, her gaze lingering on the generals, the maps, the cold flicker of the holographic table. A sense of inevitability filled the room, suffocating in its silence. There was little comfort in standing at Quixor’s side, especially now. He’d never been a man who dealt in soft words. *New information,* he had said, but Rosaline knew better than anyone that this information wasn’t new to her—it was just the weapon she’d been waiting for.

She inhaled sharply, her hands clasped behind her back, gloved fingers curling tighter around her own wrists. When she spoke, her voice was soft, almost cold, but not without its edge.

"New information," she repeated, her words slipping into the room like a shadow. Her eyes flicked to the generals, each one of them hardened, their faces already set in the grim line of those who had seen war too many times.

"As you know," she began, the slightest pause lingering in her voice, "the Coalition’s forces are becoming bolder with every passing day. But it’s not their numbers that worry me. It’s their strategy." She walked closer to the table, her gaze locking onto the holographic representation of Valthara, the planet they stood upon. The green, pulsing glow of it seemed to reflect the sickly tinge of her thoughts. "Their stance around the Nexus is no mere blockade. It’s a message. And it’s one we can’t afford to ignore."

She glanced up, letting her eyes sweep over the faces of the generals, their brows furrowing as they listened. "There’s something bigger at play here. The Nexus isn’t just a strategic point—it’s a hub, a key to something greater. And whoever controls it controls far more than just the quadrant. The Coalition knows this. It’s why they’re throwing everything they have into tightening their grip. We’ve seen the drones, their movements in orbit… but they’ve also started planting seeds on the ground, manipulating the local systems to bend to their will. If we don’t act soon, Valthara won’t just be another front in the war—it will be a staging ground for their ultimate victory."

The generals exchanged glances, murmurs of concern rippling through the room. But Rosaline wasn’t finished. Her eyes, cold and focused, narrowed as she continued.

"The Coalition is working with internal collaborators, people already embedded here. These traitors are already undermining the loyalty of our own forces." Her voice grew sharper now, a whisper of something dangerous cutting through her words. "We need to expose them before they’re given the time to act."

Her gaze flicked back to Quixor, the ever-present storm in her chest pulling her thoughts back to the man who stood beside her. He’d asked for her thoughts, but there was always an unspoken pressure in his presence—a demand for answers that weighed heavily. She hadn’t come here for the generals’ approval. She was here for his.

"And as for the power you speak of," she added, her voice lowering, laced with something unreadable, "the only way to ensure a future for it is to shape that future ourselves. Power, unchecked, will consume us as easily as it has consumed them. But if we act, if we make the right alliances… we can control it. Control them."

The room fell silent for a moment, the weight of her words hanging in the air, before she finally allowed herself to turn her gaze back to Quixor, waiting for the next move.

CALYX

Calyx’s eyes never left the writhing creature. His knuckles were white, clenched around the remote Cass had just handed to him, but his focus was entirely on the chaos unfolding before him.

Zyrix's hulking form was struggling to hold the creature down, its tail like a massive whip, slamming into the walls and ceiling of the bridge. The noise was deafening—tail thudding, claws scraping the metal, and the beast’s howls rattling through his bones. The air was thick with tension, but Calyx’s mind was calm, calculating, as it always was in moments like this.

The remote in his hand was the only thing between them and total destruction. He could feel the power pulsing in his grip, a deadly surge just waiting to be released. One wrong move, and the creature could turn the tide in an instant.

Zyrix’s voice cut through the roar of the beast, a rough, strained sound as the creature fought back. *"Let me know when you want me to let go, captain, then you can zap the thing back to hell."*

Calyx didn’t respond immediately. His gaze flicked over to Cass, who was standing by his side now, her face set, every muscle taut with the same resolve he felt. He appreciated the gesture of passing him the remote, but there was no time for relief. They had no margin for error.

"Hold it steady," he finally muttered, his voice low but commanding. His eyes darted back to the creature, struggling in Zyrix’s grasp, its massive claws reaching for anything it could tear apart. He could feel the beast’s rage, its wild energy thrumming against the ship’s hull. But there was something in the captain’s core that never faltered. *This wasn’t his first rodeo.*

He glanced back at Zyrix, his jaw tightening. The lizard-man was strong, but the creature was stronger. It was only a matter of time before the grip loosened, and when it did, Calyx had no intention of waiting for the beast to lunge.

“Zyrix, on my mark. Let go.” Calyx said, his voice steady despite the chaos around him.

He raised the remote, the buttons almost glowing in his hand. The creature’s head was thrashing violently now, its jaws snapping dangerously close to Zyrix’s exposed neck. Calyx’s pulse quickened. His finger hovered over the button.

*Now.*

"NOW!" he barked, and in that single second, the room seemed to shrink to just him, the remote, and the creature. Without hesitation, he pressed the button.

The blast of energy shot through the creature in an instant, a blinding pulse of force that sent it howling in agony. It spasmed in Zyrix’s grip, throwing the lizard-man backward with a ferocity that would’ve sent most people flying. The beast shrieked, its body convulsing violently as the energy coursed through it.

Calyx’s eyes remained cold, calculating, as the creature staggered. He didn’t flinch as the blast hit, but his hand was already moving, ready for the next step. The creature was down for now, but they couldn’t afford to relax.

“Chains,” Calyx growled, his voice barely above a whisper. “Secure it before it recovers.”

He watched as Seb moved in, the chains snapping around the creature’s limbs with precision. The team was swift, working in synchronized motion, securing the beast as quickly as possible. But Calyx knew this was far from over. There was still the threat of the creature, and they had no idea what else might be waiting for them. The entire crew knew that every second counted.

His gaze flicked to Cass again, her face set in that same unyielding expression. For a brief moment, he allowed himself to breathe, but just barely. The war was far from over. They’d won this skirmish—but there would be more.

Always more.

November 13, 2024 04:56 PM

Posts: 561
#1255611
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Quixor

Quixor stood motionless beside Rosaline, the weight of her words settling like a cold mist in the room. His expression was unreadable, his gaze distant yet sharp as it flicked briefly across the table, the holographic map of Valthara shifting and pulsing with the rhythm of her thoughts.

The generals, faces tight with the tension that now thickened the air, waited for his response, but Quixor made no move to speak immediately. Instead, he allowed the silence to stretch—long enough for the room to remember that in moments like this, he was the one who would shape the course of things. Not the generals. Not even Rosaline, as commanding as she was in her own right.

He finally turned his eyes back to her, their depths as cold and unyielding as the steel of a weapon forged for war. His lips barely moved when he spoke, but his voice sliced through the stillness, precise, deliberate.

"Control," he repeated softly, almost to himself. "A dangerous word."

He stepped forward, his boots making no sound against the tiled floor, and with a simple gesture, the holographic map flickered, zooming in on the Nexus. The green pulse of Valthara seemed to darken as the Nexus was revealed, the threat there as palpable as the threat of a blade against skin.

"Control has a price," Quixor continued, his tone cold, his eyes fixed on the Nexus. "And once we take it, we’re not the ones who shape the future. The future shapes us. We need to send ships to every known coalition territory and wipe them off the fucking map" His tone laced with venom.

His eyes shifted to meet Rosaline’s, narrowing ever so slightly as he studied her, searching for the true weight behind her words. He had always known her to be calculating, dangerous in her own right—but today, there was something more. Something darker that hovered just beneath the surface.

"We'll expose the traitors, yes," he said, his voice lowering just a fraction, as if the very thought of it was beneath him. "But don't mistake that for control, Rosaline. Exposing them is only the beginning. The Nexus... it’s not just about the Coalition. It’s about who holds the key to what’s locked inside. What’s buried beneath the surface of the station. The power we seek isn’t in their hands alone. It never has been, it remains in the shards" he pauses "We must find the shards, in order to take control"

He turned, his hand coming to rest on the table, fingers tapping softly against the cold surface, but his gaze never wavered from her. "You know as well as I do that power... isn’t something that can be contained by alliances. Not unless you are willing to make sacrifices, to lose yourself in it completely. You, above all, understand that, don’t you?"

For a moment, the room seemed to close in around them, the hum of the holographic table fading into nothingness. The generals shifted uneasily, their eyes flicking between Quixor and Rosaline, but neither seemed to care. Quixor’s voice, when he spoke again, was steady, but edged with the weight of a threat wrapped in an invitation.

"So tell me, Rosaline," he said, his words deliberate, "are you prepared to be the one to wield that power? Not just to control it, but to become it?"

The question hung in the air, a test. A challenge. And the only answer that would matter, Quixor knew, was the one she gave next.

Cassiopeia

Cass almost recoiled at the creature's screams, watching it writhe in pain. She was never sure, every time they did this, whether the collar would remain as effective as it was, watching the creature collapse to the floor, her team securing the chains and moving it back to the captain's quarters, where it remained tethered to the wall in the corner of the room. It wasn't looking before the creature stood and scream. She made to cover her ears and the unnatural high piercing shrieks of its unhappiness as it recovered to discover, yet again, that its freedom remained in check.

She turns to the captain, as the creature lunged and pulled against the chains at the wall. "I don't know why you insist on keeping that thing " Her voice laced with disgust. "You always put yourself on the line just to use it as a weapon, everytime we come across someone we wish to pillage" She looks at her team, as they make their way to leave the captain's quarters, retreating out of sight and hearing shot of the creature's torment.

November 13, 2024 05:53 PM

Posts: 1359
#1255629
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ROSALINE

Rosaline held Quixor's gaze, feeling the weight of his words settle like a fine, razor-edged blade against her skin. She could sense the challenge in his voice, the way his question lingered in the air, thick with unspoken meaning. He was trying to provoke her, to gauge her response. But she wasn’t here to play into his games. She never had been.

The room, filled with the silent expectation of the generals, felt suffocating now, their eyes like hot needles against her back. She wanted to take control of the room again, to seize the moment and remind them all that she wasn’t just Quixor’s shadow. She was the storm, the one who could make the winds shift with a single command.

Her hand rested on the table, fingertips brushing the cool surface as she leaned in, the holographic map before them flashing the pulse of Valthara in rhythm with her thoughts. The Nexus—his obsession, his weapon. She had seen it in his eyes when he’d spoken of it, that cold, relentless pursuit of the shards. He wanted them. But she knew, deep down, that it wasn’t just power he sought. It was something more. Something darker.

"I’m well aware of what power costs, Quixor," Rosaline replied, her voice low, steady, but with a sharpness that sliced through the tension. "You don’t need to remind me. I’ve bled for it more times than you can count."

Her gaze flicked to the Nexus on the map, and for a moment, she allowed herself to be consumed by it—the promise of what lay beneath its surface, buried for so long, a potential unlike anything the Coalition had ever seen. The shards, fragments of an ancient power that could bend the course of fate itself. The very thought of it stirred something primal within her. She could almost taste it on her tongue, a forbidden fruit she’d been circling for years.

But Quixor wasn’t wrong about one thing: control was dangerous. And the price of it…

She turned her attention back to him, her lips curling into the faintest of smiles, a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. His challenge was clear. He was asking if she was willing to lose herself in the power she sought. To sacrifice everything for it.

"I’ve never been one to shy away from sacrifice," she said, her voice a whisper now, threaded with something darker. "And I’ve learned that control isn’t about holding the reins—it’s about knowing when to let go. Knowing when to shape the chaos instead of being shaped by it."

Her eyes narrowed, her gaze locking with his. The tension in the room thickened, but Rosaline stood unmoving, unwavering. She could feel the weight of his question pushing against her like a force she had to reckon with.

"And as for becoming the power..." She leaned forward, her voice dropping lower, almost a whisper, but each word was deliberate, cutting through the silence like a blade. "I’ve already become it, Quixor. I’ve been shaping this moment, this war, from the very beginning. You think you’re the one who holds the future? You think I’m the one who needs to prove my willingness to sacrifice for control?" She laughed softly, the sound more bitter than anything. "No. I’m the one who decides when the cost is worth it."

She straightened, her expression hardening, that dangerous glint returning to her eyes. "So yes, Quixor, I’m ready. Not just to wield the power, but to make it bend to *me*. You’ll see soon enough just how much control I have."

There was no need for further words. The challenge had been laid bare between them, and now, the only thing left was to see who would rise to claim what was coming.

CALYX

Calyx stood by the doorway, his arms crossed, watching Cass with that ever-cold expression that rarely gave anything away. He had long since stopped flinching at the screams of the creature in the corner, the way it howled and pulled at its chains in a fit of helpless rage. To the others, it was a grotesque spectacle—a reminder of the lengths they were willing to go to for power. To him, it was nothing more than a tool, no different than the weapons they used to board ships or slit throats in the dark of night.

Cass was frustrated, as always, her disgust clear in the way her lip curled and her tone sharpened. She didn't understand. None of them did—not really.

He waited until the last of the crew had filed out, their footsteps echoing in the corridor beyond, before he spoke, his voice a low, calm rumble that carried the weight of command.

"I keep it because it *works*," Calyx said, pushing off from the doorframe and taking a step closer to the creature, eyes narrowing as he observed its futile attempts to break free. He could feel the tension in Cass's posture, the unease radiating off her, but he didn't bother to explain further—she was too caught up in the idea of it all, too caught up in the horror of it, to truly see the value of something so... raw.

"Yes, it screams. Yes, it suffers. And yes, you feel disgusted by it. But the thing is, Cass," he said, his gaze flicking to her, "it *does* what we need. When we raid, when we strike, we do it quickly, with precision. And if there's one thing this creature knows better than any of us, it's how to make a message stick."

He stepped closer, now standing just within arm's reach of the creature, its chained form still thrashing against its bonds. A faint flicker of satisfaction crossed his face as the thing's screeching faltered for a moment—an instinctive reaction to his proximity, to his command.

"It’s not about using it as a weapon in the traditional sense," Calyx continued, his voice softening ever so slightly as he spoke to her, more to make her understand than to convince her. "It’s a reminder, Cass. To *everyone*—our enemies, our crew—of what happens when you cross me, when you fail me." His eyes drifted back to the creature. "The collateral is worth it. The power it gives us, the fear it instills... that’s the kind of leverage we need, if we’re going to rule, if we’re going to survive. We're not here to be merciful. We’re here to leave a legacy."

Calyx turned, his eyes locking on hers with that calculating, cold precision. He had been the captain of the Black Dagger for a reason, and it wasn’t because he played by anyone else's rules. "And when we raid, Cass, we *always* leave something behind. Fear. Suffering. The sound of that thing screaming... it echoes far beyond this ship."

He took a breath, a rare hint of something—maybe even respect—flashing across his expression as he met her gaze one final time. "You may not like it. But you’re on my ship. And until you can prove you’re capable of finding a better way to ensure our survival, *we* do things my way."

With that, he gave her a nod, dismissing her concerns with a flick of his hand. There was no point in discussing it further. The creature, the chains, the fear—it was all part of the game. And Calyx was always playing to win.

November 14, 2024 05:35 AM

Posts: 561
#1255727
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Quixor

"If I might interject" A low voice, sounding from one of the general's, cutting the thick tension that carried in the air between them. Quixor took his harsh gaze from Rosaline and turned to face his generals. He gives the general a curt nod, to continue speaking.

"We can get the ships into position but what do we do about the pirates? We had a distress call just this morning of another one of our frieghts attacked" Quixor studied the general up and down. His rage, boiling over at the very words. He smashes his fists again the table, the sound reverbating around the room. The glint of anger in his eyes. "Why...have't you got it under control?" He growls. The general stutters, not before he collaspes and blood rises out of his throat. The ruby and gold of Quixor's dagger jutted from the generals chest, gilded in the low light of the room. There were no windows here. Everything was a secret in the war room. He'd thrown it with such quickness and precision that no-one could dare react fast enough. He walks around the table, slowly, his footsteps, heavy thuds on the mable floor. He reaches the now dead general gazing back at him on the floor. He reaches down to remove the dagger. He cleans the blade with the tip of his cloak.

Quixor moves back to the table into the gap where the general once stood. "Now is not the time for weakness" He glances at Rosaline. His eyes shining with recognition. "I need everyone in position, if we are going to make this attack work. The pirates are a mere inconvenience. We need to take control from the coalition and we need to do it now" He words hung out over the room.

Another general spoke up. His green eyes blazing at Quixor "What about after, we'd need to form some sort of government, otherwise the chaos that reigns outside, will be your legacy" Quixor considers him for a moment. "We are warlords, leave that to the advisors, BUT, I shall over see the systems that are put in place". The general nods.

The spend the next few hours, using the holographic map to cover every inch of territory, strategic positions, ships, intergalatic pathways, supply chains and everything that could come with war.

Experiment 42

42 looked at its surroundings, it lets out an animilastic whimper, as it sulked for being back in it's chains once again. It shook itself as it circled, eyeing the captain. "One day" It growled lowly, eyeing Cass, its mental claws sinking into the captain's mind.

It knew it would have to be more clever. It studied the crew as they left and now focused on Cass. It didn't dare to make a move to try and feed, for the remote was still laced in the captain's fingers. It shook its head at the thought, the power that just coursed through it, to regain control. It shifted its weight unhappily.

It turned it's head, eyeing the captain, taking the chain its mouth and began to bite down. It knew the captain had been smart enough to ensure the chains would never break, no matter how big it got or the bite force. It did it out of comfort, planning out scenario's in its head for killing everyone, so spectularly in this room.

It growled at Cass, the blue eyes piercing her gaze. It could sense her unease every time she was close. It reveled in it. It clawed its singular talons across the metal grated floor. It's unhappiness still evident.

Cassiopeia

Cass unlocked her helmet and shook out her black hair. Taking a deep breath of the ship's artifical air. Eyeing the creature in the corner again, as it took the chains in its mouth and started to chow down. She gave the captain an unconvinced look, she didn't like the fact that he weighed the creature's life above everyone else's on the ship at times. She couldn't help but feel a pang in her chest at her insigificance. She would dream of killing the creature tonight. But she didn't let any of her emotions betray her outwardly.

She shook her head at the dismissal. She studied him momentarily before watching the creature scrape it's talons across the floor. She wanted to cover her ears. So instead, she headed towards the door to leave the captain's quarters.

Edited at November 14, 2024 05:35 AM by Velaris Stud

November 14, 2024 08:02 AM

Posts: 1359
#1255740
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ROSALINE

Rosaline stood at the edge of the war room, her gaze flickering over the chaos as Quixor's wrath consumed the general. The man had barely finished speaking before he was silenced, a crimson stain spreading across the marble floor beneath him. The air felt charged, heavy with the unspoken tension of the room. Rosaline’s eyes, sharp and calculating, never left Quixor, even as he wiped the blood from his dagger with a cold precision.

She’d seen him like this before—the rage, the swift violence, the ease with which he crushed dissent. But still, the brutality unsettled her. The general had been a failure, yes, but it was the speed of the execution that lingered in her thoughts.

When Quixor turned to face the rest of the room, his eyes briefly met hers. There was recognition in that glance, an acknowledgment of her presence, and a silent demand that she remain in line.

"Now is not the time for weakness," Quixor said, his voice sharp and commanding. His words reverberated in the room, leaving no room for argument.

Rosaline nodded, but her mind was already elsewhere, calculating the next steps. The pirates were a problem—an inconvenient one, yes, but hardly their biggest threat. What truly mattered was the consolidation of power. The Coalition would not hold forever, and Quixor knew that.

When the next general spoke up, his concerns over the post-war government, Rosaline could feel the shift in the room. She wasn’t surprised when Quixor dismissed the matter with a wave, directing the task to his advisors while still claiming oversight.

As the room fell into a strategic rhythm, the holographic map flickering to life in front of them, Rosaline’s thoughts drifted again. The plans for war were meticulous, the targets precise, but she couldn't shake the question that lingered at the back of her mind: What would be left once Quixor’s vengeance had been exacted?

November 14, 2024 08:08 AM

Diamond

Posts: 26
#1255742
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Location: Aboard the Galactic Coalition Ship
Time: Midday, Galactic Standard Time
Neoma’s eyes narrowed as the static of the comms faded and Tristan’s voice filtered in, calm but laced with an unspoken tension. She could feel his eyes on the data, could almost sense his impatience through the cold professional tone.

"More data, huh?" Neoma murmured to herself, her boots clicking softly against the cracked pavement as she continued her careful survey of the silent city. She didn’t need to look back at the shuttle to know that Tristan was tracking her every move through the base’s readings. She could practically hear his thoughts swirling through the radio, the same questions she had: What was causing this disturbance? Why had the city been abandoned? And why couldn’t they get a clear answer?

"I’m already on it," Neoma replied, her voice steady but tinged with the same quiet resolve she had felt from the start. She adjusted the settings on her wrist scanner again, pulling up the map of the city’s layout. Her eyes flickered over the ancient architecture—this wasn’t the kind of place that should be left to decay. Whoever had built this city had meant for it to last.

Her fingers brushed the cool surface of a nearby wall, eyes trained on the distant skyline. Something shimmered there, just out of reach, like the city itself was holding its breath.

"Soil samples, you said?" she echoed, her tone lifting slightly as she stepped toward an open area where the grass seemed to pulse unnaturally beneath the dull light. "I’ll make it happen. Something’s not right here, and I need to know what’s in the ground. I’ll need to get a bit deeper into the city though. The center's where the energy fluctuations are coming from."

She took a breath, steadying herself for the unknown. She could feel the weight of the mission pressing down on her, but there was no turning back. "I’ll keep you updated," she said, already moving forward. The city was still eerily quiet, but that shimmer, that strange flicker in the air—it was the only thing that felt real.

Neoma’s fingers gripped the handle of her scanner tighter. Whatever was happening here, she wouldn’t leave until she knew the truth.

November 14, 2024 10:04 AM

Posts: 1359
#1255756
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CALYX
Calyx stood motionless as 42 circled, its low growl resonating through the air. The creature’s eyes bore into Calyx, and he could feel the sharpness of its presence even without hearing its mental whispers. He knew better than to show any sign of weakness, but the subtle tightening of his grip around the remote betrayed his unease.
"One day," it growled again, its voice more than just words, a promise laced with venom. Calyx could feel its claws sinking into his thoughts, searching for any crack in his mental armor.
He’d known from the start that this day would come—that 42 would bide its time and plot its eventual escape. It had tested him before, and it would test him again. But Calyx had always stayed one step ahead, his fingers never straying far from the device that kept the beast in check.
Still, its growl was unsettling, the way it tore at the chains with such futile determination. He could feel the tension mounting. It wanted to break free, wanted to kill, wanted to feast. And yet, there was something almost calculated in its actions. 42 wasn’t just a beast; it was a predator, one that understood patience.
Calyx wasn’t fooled. It would only take one mistake, one moment of distraction, and 42 would strike.
But not today. Today, the captain would remain unyielding. 42 would test his resolve—but Calyx had been forged for this. He locked eyes with the creature, unflinching.
“Not today,” he muttered, his voice low, but firm.
In that moment, 42’s growl softened into something almost like a sigh. A reminder that it was not yet ready to strike, but it would keep watching. Always watching. And for Calyx, that was enough.

November 14, 2024 01:20 PM

Posts: 561
#1255801
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Quixor

The war room was silent now, the hum of holograms dimming as the final tactical points were settled. The generals had dispersed, leaving only the scent of blood and a lingering sense of urgency in the air. Quixor stood at the table for a moment longer, the weight of the war pressing down on him like an unrelenting tide. But it was over—at least for now. The battle was decided, and the course was set. His mind, ever restless, had already begun to calculate the next move.

Yet, as he turned away from the holographic maps and walked toward the door, a part of him was suddenly... aware. Of the quiet. Of the presence behind him. Rosaline hadn’t moved.

She was standing at the edge of the room, watching him with that sharp, calculating gaze. He had always found it both unsettling and magnetic. No one else could look at him like that—not with the mixture of admiration, suspicion, and something else that lingered just beneath the surface. That flicker of something unspoken.

He didn’t have to ask. He knew she would follow.

As he stepped into the hallway, he felt the weight of the day’s decisions press against him, but something else was clawing at the edges of his thoughts. The intensity of their shared history, the complex weave of their relationship—it was always there, beneath the surface. And now, after the meeting, it felt more charged than ever. The air between them was thick with unspoken words, unsaid desires.

“Come with me,” he said, his voice a low command, but soft enough that it wasn’t a demand. A suggestion, perhaps. A moment of something rare—something that wasn’t about control or strategy.

Rosaline’s eyes flickered to his, a slight hesitation before she nodded and fell into step beside him. Her presence was steady, an anchor even when everything around them was shifting. He could feel her gaze on him, the weight of it, the calculation.

They walked through the corridor of the palace, the dimly lit hallways, now looming with long shadows at the lit laterns in the darkness that stretched ahead of them, quiet now that the meeting had ended. His footsteps echoed, but hers were silent.

When they reached the dining room, the door slid open automatically, revealing a long, polished table beneath soft lighting, the rich scent of food and wine hanging in the air. The room was intimate, the atmosphere a far cry from the cold, strategic edges of the war room. The faint clink of glassware echoed as the staff finished setting up the evening’s meal, but it was clear they had prepared for him—the table was set for two.

Quixor’s gaze shifted to Rosaline, her presence alone enough to make the air feel suddenly alive. Her eyes met his, and for a long moment, neither of them moved. It was a silence that had nothing to do with strategy, with power, with war—it was just them, in this moment, alone.

He gestured to the table. “Sit.”

She did, gracefully, sliding into the seat opposite him. Her posture was impeccable, as always, but there was something more between them now. She wasn’t looking at him with the sharp, analytical gaze of a general or a partner in conquest—no, tonight it was different. Tonight, they were just two people, caught in the space between everything that had come before and everything that could be.

As Quixor settled into his seat, his fingers brushed the stem of his wine glass, but he didn’t drink just yet. He let the quiet linger. He let the warmth of her presence sink into the corners of the room, something more than the cold calculations of war.

"I’ve been thinking," he said, his voice a low murmur, as if the words were an afterthought. He wasn’t used to thinking about the what ifs of life beyond the war, beyond conquest. But with her here, in this moment, he couldn’t help it. “We’ve fought for so long, Rosaline. For control. For power. But what if—what if there’s something else?”

She raised an eyebrow, her gaze sharp, but not dismissive. She didn’t push him to elaborate. Instead, she waited, as she always did, her silence giving him space to speak.

“I never thought about what comes after," he continued, finally lifting his glass to his lips, the rich wine dark against the light of the room. "After the war. After the power." He glanced up at her, meeting her eyes across the table. "You’ve always known what you want. I’ve… always known what I needed." He leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping just a fraction lower. "But you—what do you want, Rosaline? What happens to you when it’s all over? When the war is won?”

For a long moment, she didn’t answer. She just watched him, the soft glow of the room dancing in her eyes. There was a depth to her gaze, a complexity he could never fully decipher. She was the one person he couldn’t control, couldn’t predict—and that made her dangerous. That made her fascinating.

He felt a flicker of something inside him as he studied Rosaline—something that wasn’t dominance, wasn’t control—but something else. Understanding. A recognition of sorts. She had always been an enigma to him, but tonight, in the quiet warmth of the dining room, he began to understand the weight of what she was saying.

“I’ve never been good at... anything other than war,” he said quietly, his voice rougher than usual. “But you’ve made me think there could be more. After all this is over. If you wanted it… there might be a place for us.” It was as if the war meeting had left a hole inside Quixor, a sudden realisation for what he needed, for the future.

There was a silence that stretched between them, and for the first time in ages, Quixor didn’t feel the need to fill it with words or plans. He simply looked at her, watching as the flicker of emotion passed through her eyes. She had always been the one to challenge him, to question him, but tonight—tonight she was different.

He didn't care that his volatile personality meant her had this sudden pull his chest, this want, this need. He gazed at her, taking her in. A worthy companion perhaps. His future. His gaze shining.

(Gonna create another post for the other characters)

November 14, 2024 01:30 PM