The Flames of Hell (Spaced)

[Deleted]

AZAZEL

Nothing hurts my world, 
just affects the ones around me
When sin's deep in my blood,
you'll be the one to fall.

An ever moving land yet void of all life. It seemed the gods had condemned this realm and all that had lived upon it to a scorching death, leaving nothing but blood stained sands as far as the eye could see. This seemed a place where the evil was cast out of 'civil' society, a place where those whom held onto false visions of the beauty of living would fight tooth and nail to avoid. This was the kind of place where the near mature beast felt most at home. Just like the scapegoat for whom he was named, Azazel felt at home in this dead world. He had first stepped upon the shifting sands when the silver orb was at its peak and without the warmth of the fire orb the land had been thrown into near arctic conditions. The beast had ignored the vicious shivers that plagued his muscles and the ache in his jaw from his clenched teeth, simply focusing his gaze intently upon the deep darkness before him and marching forth like a fearless soldier into war. There was no concern about predators within his mind, they needed animals to kill and devour, any predator that ventured out to these lands would eventually die. Of course that meant the same for any plant eater but the beast had long ago let free the fear of dying. It could be a welcome release, eternal rest from his own voice screaming in his skull and the stomach churning visions that flashed upon the backs of his lids whenever he closed his eyes. 

How long had he been marching to forget the cold? The beasts skull ceased its lazed bobbing as he fought to focus his gaze for the first time in a number of hours. The horizon was now visible, slightly paler then the shadowed lands it kissed. It would only be another hour before the fiery orb showed itself for a new day. Stubbornly marching through the night had allowed the young stallion to push his thoughts and nightmares to the back of his head but he hadn't been noting just where he had been traveling so he found himself in the heart of the desert, the harsh dry winds filling the path his daggers had cut, leaving him truly lost and alone. There was no point in stressing over his unknown location, if he just kept walking he would eventually reach a new land or die in the process. His slowly flaring nares picked up the scent of fresh life amidst the earthly air, his attention moving to a small cluster of struggling bushes in a small gully between shallow dunes, their leaves lightly laden with dew carried on the cool night air. His weight shifted toward his hocks as he descended into the small gully to pick carefully at the leaves tucked amongst the thorny branches of the desert shrub. The thorns would lightly pick at his maw, dragging their razored tips across delicate skin though the scratching sensation was pleasant to Azazel. 

By the time the firey orb rose into the sky, painting the dome the same vibrant flamed hue as the sands, the beast had picked the few small shrubs bare of their dewy leaves, slightly contenting the thirst and hunger that had started to rise in his malnourished frame. He didn't require much sustenance to keep his stomach quiet, a life lived in harsh lands had kept his body lean. On a bad day shadows upon his ribs made him look like a decaying body. The light of the sun slowly crept into the gully, gently warming his chilled hide with its warm waking touch. Soon the fiery orb would be climbing to the peak of the sky, baking everything that it could touch. Something primal within Azazel caused him to start moving once more, lazily ambling across the bare desert in a slow race against time. It took only a few hours for the beast to start feeling the burn of the fiery rays, even with his primarily snowy coat reflecting the light away from his body. His facade started to burn first, his two toned optics starting to blind as his ebony hairs drew in the warmth that the rest of his body deflected. The world around the beast seemed to dance in waves that caused Azazel's head to start wavering itself. The survival instincts coded within him grew stronger as something rose from the wavering air. Was it a trick of the mind? Azazel didn't care, he just wanted out of the burning air. 

His knees lifted higher as he broke into a two beat, drawing closer to the dark object that slowly became a dense mass of rock. A snort of relief fell past the beasts nares as he confirmed that he wasn't chasing an illusion, breaking into a rushed three beat, slowing only as the cool shadows embraced his frame. He swore he could hear his hooves moan as the cold sand embraced them, his skull dropping as he weaved between a few small rocks and under a rocky overhang that provided complete protection from the near mid-day orb. His knees and hocks locked as he rested in the shade, dark lids partially covering his optics as he watched the exposed land before him bake in the fiery heat. He felt as though he had just escaped the grasp of hell itself but now he was cornered like a pathetic field mouse. No matter what one did it seemed the devil was always one step ahead.

TAG: ▼SPACED.
NOTES: BLAHBLAH
WORDS: 624

ⒶⓀⒾ of Adoxography and of GS

[▼SPACED.]

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He moved through the desert like a mouse at midnight: gingerly, and with sweat hot behind his tapered ears. The heat was making his hair stick unbearably to his satin skin, cloying and creating a slick of granite and ebony knots. The sand clung to every pore, feverish like hot glass, stinging and burning in the corners of his angular eyes and making him pause to rub them in exasperation. Dilkara wasn't sure what it was that had brought him to the desert - curiously, perhaps? He did know, however, that he regretted that decision tenfold. He was a man made for mountain ranges and cool, dewey snow grass - not burning sand and scorching sunlight. He hadn't been in Tathra long, only long enough to find the Diamante Ranges and stay there, comfortable and content. 

Now he found himself stranded in the heat - too far to head back, too hot to stay in one place. He stumbled across a gully, bare of any food - eaten, judging by the nibbled stems. This didn't bother Dilkara, he was a heavyset stallion and was well-nourished, his skin glowing with health and happiness. He could go a day without food - especially when it consisted of dry desert leaves. This heat, though. He was quickly beginning to feel dehydrated, his body thirsty for shade and water. A nook or cave became visible in the distance, enough motivation to head in that direction. Yet as he drew closer, a figure began to materialise within the shadows. Not one to be anti-social (and also feeling the need for shade quite dearly) he approached. 

He moved with grace, slipping closer with no threat in his stance, eyes watching carefully for any sign of aggression from the other stallion. Finally he stood under the shade, the sweat dripping from behind his ears. Silence reigned before Dilkara spoke, his voice baritone and gentle "You've chosen a hell of a place to live, friend."

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ooc; @dazi still getting used to him so forgive me if it's crappy!

[Deleted]

Despite the blood that ran hot in the beasts veins, this land of unmediated heat was quite pleasant once he was out of the burning sun. The winter months and cold nights were a struggle for him due to the lack of fat upon his frame. He had no reserves, needing to keep on the move to keep his taut muscles and unprotected bones from freezing. The beast had fallen into a partial doze, the only movement from him the occasional subconscious flick of his banner when the tiny pests started to bite at his rump wanting to add the sweetness of his blood to the bitterness of his sweat and the occasional twitch of a muscle as salty droplets tickled his skin. His coat had gained a brindled appearance as the sweat followed the hollowed contours of his frame, the dehydration that was quickly setting in causing his skin to stretch tightly over his bones. If he could see himself he probably would have hidden himself away, certain another creature would mistake him for some diseased being. 

He didn't consciously notice the approaching stallion until he was only a few yards away even though his gaze had been lazily focused on the distorted form for quite some time. His skull rose from its slack position below his withers as he assessed the situation. As the scent of another stallion, strong and musky from the desert heat, reached his nares Azazel relaxed slightly. It was probably the opposite reaction to what most would give, perceiving another beast as a threat but Azazel found them easier to deal with than moronic mares and foals. His frame softened slightly, accepting the others presence to share the protection of the overhang. His harks flicked to attention as the others voice broke the silence that had settled densely about the ivory stallion for the past few hours. Friend? Had Azazel meet this stallion before? His eyes hardened slightly in thought though he quickly gave up. It was too hot to think too hard.  

"T'was much nicer before the sun rose" He struggled a little with piecing his thoughts together when it came to conversing with another, his mind picking apart information at its own pace. "I'm just passin' through, I didn't expect the sands to stretch so far" His split gaze flicked rapidly over the other, trying to figure out why the other beast was on this land. He knew that the most likely reason he appeared in this location was for the same reason as Azazel, to escape the fiery orb, but he didn't look like one to be wandering such harsh lands. "Ya look outta place 'ere"


OOC: All good, I'm still settling back into Zaz

▼SPACED.