(Belated) St. Patty's Day Festivities! All Welcome!
Posted: Sat Mar 20, 2010 1:26 pm
(OOC: So, I finally decided, after much internal debating, that there needed to be another par-tay of some sorts in the fields:P As an aside, please PLEASE do not place unrealistic expectations on people, posting wise. Considering the last bunch of parties we had, it may be possible to pull off another 30 pager, and in that case, I’m sure lots of people will be posting at random, given the time and RL circumstances surrounding their situation, etc, myself included. That being said, if enough people get involved, try to be courteous and wait your turn, sort to speak, in the general hubbub but do not get upset if someone can no longer participate, or keep up. Find ways around it. In other words, common sense, people-ees. Lol. I just missed you all, RP wise (especially after re-reading the old Post Festival Celebration Thread!) and thought it would be good to get everyone together again. Everyone is welcome, new and old Serians and RPers alike! I am insane, but I’m getting ALL of my Serians involved, for as long as I can keep up with it. They’re all clamouring for attention Sorry in advance for the super long intro post!)
--Bridle, SilverRain, Vision and Ovela--
It was belated, but Talia figured that now was as good a time as ever to throw a St Patrick’s Day get-together at the cottage. Talia fidgeted and fussed over decorations, experiencing an intense feeling of déjà vu. This had not been the first party hosted at the cottage, but it was so strikingly familiar to her last post-festival celebration that she had to laugh. Fondly, she glanced over her shoulder at her ever-growing “family”, noting how much many of them had changed and grown as individuals.
The usually insouciant Vision was now a father on multiple fronts, overly agitated by daddy-issues and paternal concerns. SilverRain, ever the inexorable imp and overgrown foal, was now seriously considering a family with his long-suffering and sweet mate, Tinsel. Bridle, being the eldest and first-bonded, had grown increasingly more bold, belligerent and bossy towards his other bonded companions, ever the patriarch of the group and her constant protector. Tatter still had his sharp edges, but they were becoming increasingly dulled and more tolerable by others as a result of the constant presence of his newly re-homed mate, Mango, who most had attributed with his mellowing. Galaxy was now more aware of his Rogue heritage since the arrival of her newest bond, Shimmer, who was altogether too aware of what it meant, and who continued to be one of the most perplexing individuals of the group. Gem had gone from a skittish and relatively introverted mare, to an extroverted and inseparable companion of Silver’s, to a slightly embittered yet still overtly friendly maternal mare. Nymph was still a little wraith of a thing, painfully shy, yet she stuck to the mare Karma like glue, despite her Narcissus-like complex in regards to her vanity, her playful opposing nature and painful naiveté. Nip, another new bond, had become thick-as-thieves with Silver, much to Gem’s chagrin, and occasionally was able to pull out glimpses of Silver’s old personality in their more lively moments. And lastly, little Ovela kept them all on their toes (or hooves!) with her mischief-making ability and saucy personality.
Talia snapped out of her reverie as Bridle nudged her, gently.
“You went off somewhere again,” he said chidingly in his deep familiar baritone. Talia smiled at him and mussed his mane, a familiar gesture that never ceased to make him grumble.
“I was remembering old times,” she said simply, as she patted his great mahogany neck in an attempt to soothe his ruffled pride. A laughing voice interrupted their conversation.
“Ol’ Gramps would remember them better than any of us,” Silver said with a grin as he continued to agitate and offend his father further by nipping playfully at his forelock. Bridle tossed him a ferocious glare and buffeted his son with his wings.
"I think I liked Battleaxe better," Bridle said quietly. “I am no one’s Grandpa yet boy,” he added sharply, muttering darkly. “Just because you believe that you’re a suitable candidate for fatherhood does not mean that your mate does you big lummox...” Bridle paused, glancing about sharply. “Speaking of foals, where is your charge? I do believe that Vision put her in your hands!”
SilverRain snorted and looked about. “Why, she’s right... here... oh...” he said, his voice trailing off into an ashamed mumble.
All at once, Talia’s relative silence was overrun by a cacophony of Serian shouts, and one mini-objector.
“SILVER!” Bridle roared, entirely too cross that his son could be such an oaf as to lose one adolescent filly.
“SILVERRAIN!” shouted another, equally irate voice in the distance, which was punctuated by a high feminine voice, protesting hotly in defence.
“I... Well I...she... well...” said Silver feebly, looking utterly abashed, and completely cornered. He sat on his hindquarters, his expression resembling that of a cornered animal counting down the moments until its demise.
Talia did her best to suppress a giggle as Vision came trotting into the cottage, his dissenting adoptive daughter in tow. The little filly was doing her best to dodge her “father’s” angry nudges as she flicked her wings and fiery tail in time with her complaints. Bridle all but smirked, certain that Vision, in his newly discovered father-figure role, would present Silver with a scathing report of his daughter’s going-ons while in his absence. Satisfied that his son would receive a tongue lashing that he decidedly deserved, he left the cottage to fuss over the shiny shamrock decorations affixed to the eaves of the cottage.
Ovela stood stonily next to her father, who was oblivious of his daughter’s heated gaze.
“Do you know what she was up to!?” demanded Vision of a decidedly dejected looking Silver, who then proceeded to shake his head before realizing that Vision would not be able to see the obvious gesture.
“Noo...” he whispered softly, afraid to incur the stallion’s wrath.
“Well, let me tell you,” began Vision hotly, his usually absent temper flaring, “There is a decidedly large vat of green beer positioned outside, for Human guests. A. Large. Vat. Of. Beer.”
Silver, seeing where the conversation was headed, cut to the chase.
“Sorry?” he ventured, his voice sheepish, feeling like quite the foal himself. Shamefaced, he ventured a peek at Vision, but he was unable to discern the stallion’s expression due to the ever-present mask, with the exception of the stallion’s obviously down-turned mouth. The little filly squirmed restlessly and tried to grin reassuringly at the stallion being berated.
“It’s ok Silver, it tasted yucky anyway,” Ovela stated, rather matter-of-factly as she swayed ever-so-slightly. She giggled, which was then followed by what seemed like an overly loud hiccup in the overwhelming silence of the house. Vision sighed aloud, shaking his amethyst mane in exasperation.
“Can I at least count on you to watch my now semi-intoxicated young daughter, or should I ask another, more reliable Serian perhaps?” he said quietly, allowing the other stallion a possible method of redeeming himself.
“Yes sir,” responded SilverRain promptly as he quickly ushered the little filly (who was now giggling and hiccupping in turn) out of the cottage before Vision changed his mind. “It won’t happen again, I promise!” he added, calling over his shoulder.
--Outside the cottage (Tatter, Mango, Galaxy, Shimmer, Karma, Nip, Nymph and Gem)--
Nip watched Silver usher his charge quickly from the cottage with barely concealed amusement. She flicked her vivid lime green mane out of her face before approaching the stallion, a smirk planted firmly on her face.
“My guess is that you just got thoroughly thumped Big Guy,” she said laughingly.
Silver scowled at her, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. “Did you know that was going to happen?”
The mare chuckled and tossed the stallion a wink. “Seriously Silv, everyone saw that coming. Did you forget that the little mite had some semblance of free will, especially that one? She saw her opening, and she took it!”
“I have phree wheeell!” piped up the little filly, as she collapsed against Silver’s leg in a fit of giggles and hiccups.
Silver rolled his eyes at both of the females in his presence. “Women,” he said simply.
-------------------------------
Nearby, Tatter, Mango, Galaxy and Shimmer grazed in a small field adjacent to the cottage, the first two quite a few paces away from the latter two. Although Tatter was now a bit more openly social, he usually did not engage unless prompted by Mango. The two lay in relative silence, cheek to cheek so as to avoid the other’s more spiky regions. Mango’s lengthy and luxurious lavender tail had been braided by Talia (upon request by the mare), and interwoven with clover in an attempt to mimic the shamrocks that decorated the nearby cottage.
Not far off, Shimmer was rolling about in the fields, enjoying the feeling of the grass against her beautiful golden star-spangled coat. Silver eyes watched her curiously from a distance as Galaxy paused occasionally to survey the darkening sky, searching for the first few stars of the night. In the little bit of time that he had become acquainted with Shimmer, he had become a bit wiser, and he thought he had found a certain amount of inner peace and confidence that he didn’t know he had. She had that effect on people. She was friendly, but rarely said much unless it was of some consequence, a rather Rogue-like trait. She had a respect for life, and harboured this inner well of joy that would spontaneously make her act like a filly. She, like most abandons (and himself) had little to no memory of her previous bond, but she did not dwell on it. The past was just that- the past, and he admired her for it. She was, however, curiously disconnected from her surroundings sometimes, an ethereal presence in their little family grouping. Yet her overwhelming confidence instantly made her attractive to the others, although she seemed to take little interest in joining a circle, finding a mate, and all other forms of attachment, in much the same manner as him. She did, however, seem to take it upon herself to educate him in all things Rogue, as if he were some unusual specimen of such. He knew that he had been influenced by his bond-mates, and had matured with a rather odd perception of things, which was different from most Rogues apparently, or so he had been told.
He tossed his head, sending his long streaked mane flying into the wind. He had begun to take notice of his own physical strength in a way in which he never had before; the way his muscles shifted and recoiled during a gallop, or the way he could easily body-check Silver in a tussle. Shimmer had pointed it out to him- she was a diminutive mare, but he knew that she easily had the ability to pinion even the largest stallion in their group, not that she would. It was apparently part of the Rogue strength. She had also started to tutor him in certain magical abilities, which, again, he had been previously unaware of. He continued to regard her with interest. How she knew all this information was beyond him; it was clear, at least, that she was very in tune with her nature.
Shimmer, instinctively feeling the gaze of someone at her back, flipped over to regard Galaxy. Without hesitating, she trotted over to his side to stand and watch the horizon as well, her golden eyes unmoving as she spoke.
“You are thinking of her,” she stated simply.
Galaxy shifted slightly, betraying his slight unease with the mare’s uncanny ability to know where his thoughts were straying. Problem was, she was right... in some respects.
“Perhaps,” he said mildly, attempting to appear nonchalant, something that Shimmer found immensely amusing.
The two did not continue to discuss the issue, but instead enjoyed the creeping comfort of the night and the relative solitude that it provided before guests arrived.
-------------------------------
Gem, Nymph and Karma were arrayed nearest to the cottage, positioned as the self-appointed welcoming crew. Brightly jewelled eyes regarded the other two mares with obvious exasperation. Karma had insisted on “dressing up” in much the same manner as Mango, however the Lady had taken an immense amount of time braiding the mare’s mane and intertwining it with numerous tiny shamrock shaped decorations rather than imitation clover. The mare was immensely proud of her appearance, and pranced about happily, pausing every now and again to gaze at herself in any reflective surface. Gem, who was not very particular about preening, found her behaviour childish and a tad annoying. Not to mention the fact that she had other things on her mind... namely the absence of her mate for quite a few years now.
Nymph did her best to quell the other mare’s incessant preening, even though she knew it was relatively harmless and that Karma was merely excited. Gem had been particularly irritable as of late, and she had no desire to incite her wrath. She fidgeted, her fluttering wings betraying her nervousness as she continually complimented the mare, hoping that the overwhelming amount of attention might get her to calm down a bit.
Gem herself had a single shamrock decoration tucked behind her ear, which stood out shockingly against her turquoise mane and yellow hide. To make her bad mood worse, the clover slipped off, leaving Gem with no means of placing it back in its original position. Scowling, she stared at the other mares, which caused Nymph to involuntarily snort in alarm. Inwardly, she scolded herself. None of this was Nymph or Karma’s doing, so she smiled softly at Nymph, trying to reassure her. Really, she wasn’t irritated with her. The little mare was trying her best to alleviate her stress, and she knew that the mare was intuitive enough to discern why she had been upset.
Nymph looked away from a now prattling Karma and smiled softly back.
“Will the guests be coming soon?” she asked quietly. Her voice was so soft that even Karma stopped in her excited babbling and experimental tail-swishing to listen. Truth be told, she wasn’t fond of being on guest-duty. The thought of all those people had her stomach tied into knots and ready to bolt for the forest.
“Soon enough love,” replied Gem briefly before lipping idly at the grass. She knew that the mare was painfully shy at best, but thought that this experience would be good for her. She needed to meet some new friends.
Talia stepped up beside the mare and placed a hand on her back. She knew that Gem had been beside herself for months, absolutely devastated about Surf’s disappearance. He had been absent for approximately five years, and Gem was despairing. She hoped that meeting some new people and seeing old friends would help to cheer her up. With a small smile, she picked up the shamrock and wound it tightly into the mare’s mane, just behind her ear where it used to be, securing it from further mishap.
Now they just had to wait for the guests...
--Bridle, SilverRain, Vision and Ovela--
It was belated, but Talia figured that now was as good a time as ever to throw a St Patrick’s Day get-together at the cottage. Talia fidgeted and fussed over decorations, experiencing an intense feeling of déjà vu. This had not been the first party hosted at the cottage, but it was so strikingly familiar to her last post-festival celebration that she had to laugh. Fondly, she glanced over her shoulder at her ever-growing “family”, noting how much many of them had changed and grown as individuals.
The usually insouciant Vision was now a father on multiple fronts, overly agitated by daddy-issues and paternal concerns. SilverRain, ever the inexorable imp and overgrown foal, was now seriously considering a family with his long-suffering and sweet mate, Tinsel. Bridle, being the eldest and first-bonded, had grown increasingly more bold, belligerent and bossy towards his other bonded companions, ever the patriarch of the group and her constant protector. Tatter still had his sharp edges, but they were becoming increasingly dulled and more tolerable by others as a result of the constant presence of his newly re-homed mate, Mango, who most had attributed with his mellowing. Galaxy was now more aware of his Rogue heritage since the arrival of her newest bond, Shimmer, who was altogether too aware of what it meant, and who continued to be one of the most perplexing individuals of the group. Gem had gone from a skittish and relatively introverted mare, to an extroverted and inseparable companion of Silver’s, to a slightly embittered yet still overtly friendly maternal mare. Nymph was still a little wraith of a thing, painfully shy, yet she stuck to the mare Karma like glue, despite her Narcissus-like complex in regards to her vanity, her playful opposing nature and painful naiveté. Nip, another new bond, had become thick-as-thieves with Silver, much to Gem’s chagrin, and occasionally was able to pull out glimpses of Silver’s old personality in their more lively moments. And lastly, little Ovela kept them all on their toes (or hooves!) with her mischief-making ability and saucy personality.
Talia snapped out of her reverie as Bridle nudged her, gently.
“You went off somewhere again,” he said chidingly in his deep familiar baritone. Talia smiled at him and mussed his mane, a familiar gesture that never ceased to make him grumble.
“I was remembering old times,” she said simply, as she patted his great mahogany neck in an attempt to soothe his ruffled pride. A laughing voice interrupted their conversation.
“Ol’ Gramps would remember them better than any of us,” Silver said with a grin as he continued to agitate and offend his father further by nipping playfully at his forelock. Bridle tossed him a ferocious glare and buffeted his son with his wings.
"I think I liked Battleaxe better," Bridle said quietly. “I am no one’s Grandpa yet boy,” he added sharply, muttering darkly. “Just because you believe that you’re a suitable candidate for fatherhood does not mean that your mate does you big lummox...” Bridle paused, glancing about sharply. “Speaking of foals, where is your charge? I do believe that Vision put her in your hands!”
SilverRain snorted and looked about. “Why, she’s right... here... oh...” he said, his voice trailing off into an ashamed mumble.
All at once, Talia’s relative silence was overrun by a cacophony of Serian shouts, and one mini-objector.
“SILVER!” Bridle roared, entirely too cross that his son could be such an oaf as to lose one adolescent filly.
“SILVERRAIN!” shouted another, equally irate voice in the distance, which was punctuated by a high feminine voice, protesting hotly in defence.
“I... Well I...she... well...” said Silver feebly, looking utterly abashed, and completely cornered. He sat on his hindquarters, his expression resembling that of a cornered animal counting down the moments until its demise.
Talia did her best to suppress a giggle as Vision came trotting into the cottage, his dissenting adoptive daughter in tow. The little filly was doing her best to dodge her “father’s” angry nudges as she flicked her wings and fiery tail in time with her complaints. Bridle all but smirked, certain that Vision, in his newly discovered father-figure role, would present Silver with a scathing report of his daughter’s going-ons while in his absence. Satisfied that his son would receive a tongue lashing that he decidedly deserved, he left the cottage to fuss over the shiny shamrock decorations affixed to the eaves of the cottage.
Ovela stood stonily next to her father, who was oblivious of his daughter’s heated gaze.
“Do you know what she was up to!?” demanded Vision of a decidedly dejected looking Silver, who then proceeded to shake his head before realizing that Vision would not be able to see the obvious gesture.
“Noo...” he whispered softly, afraid to incur the stallion’s wrath.
“Well, let me tell you,” began Vision hotly, his usually absent temper flaring, “There is a decidedly large vat of green beer positioned outside, for Human guests. A. Large. Vat. Of. Beer.”
Silver, seeing where the conversation was headed, cut to the chase.
“Sorry?” he ventured, his voice sheepish, feeling like quite the foal himself. Shamefaced, he ventured a peek at Vision, but he was unable to discern the stallion’s expression due to the ever-present mask, with the exception of the stallion’s obviously down-turned mouth. The little filly squirmed restlessly and tried to grin reassuringly at the stallion being berated.
“It’s ok Silver, it tasted yucky anyway,” Ovela stated, rather matter-of-factly as she swayed ever-so-slightly. She giggled, which was then followed by what seemed like an overly loud hiccup in the overwhelming silence of the house. Vision sighed aloud, shaking his amethyst mane in exasperation.
“Can I at least count on you to watch my now semi-intoxicated young daughter, or should I ask another, more reliable Serian perhaps?” he said quietly, allowing the other stallion a possible method of redeeming himself.
“Yes sir,” responded SilverRain promptly as he quickly ushered the little filly (who was now giggling and hiccupping in turn) out of the cottage before Vision changed his mind. “It won’t happen again, I promise!” he added, calling over his shoulder.
--Outside the cottage (Tatter, Mango, Galaxy, Shimmer, Karma, Nip, Nymph and Gem)--
Nip watched Silver usher his charge quickly from the cottage with barely concealed amusement. She flicked her vivid lime green mane out of her face before approaching the stallion, a smirk planted firmly on her face.
“My guess is that you just got thoroughly thumped Big Guy,” she said laughingly.
Silver scowled at her, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. “Did you know that was going to happen?”
The mare chuckled and tossed the stallion a wink. “Seriously Silv, everyone saw that coming. Did you forget that the little mite had some semblance of free will, especially that one? She saw her opening, and she took it!”
“I have phree wheeell!” piped up the little filly, as she collapsed against Silver’s leg in a fit of giggles and hiccups.
Silver rolled his eyes at both of the females in his presence. “Women,” he said simply.
-------------------------------
Nearby, Tatter, Mango, Galaxy and Shimmer grazed in a small field adjacent to the cottage, the first two quite a few paces away from the latter two. Although Tatter was now a bit more openly social, he usually did not engage unless prompted by Mango. The two lay in relative silence, cheek to cheek so as to avoid the other’s more spiky regions. Mango’s lengthy and luxurious lavender tail had been braided by Talia (upon request by the mare), and interwoven with clover in an attempt to mimic the shamrocks that decorated the nearby cottage.
Not far off, Shimmer was rolling about in the fields, enjoying the feeling of the grass against her beautiful golden star-spangled coat. Silver eyes watched her curiously from a distance as Galaxy paused occasionally to survey the darkening sky, searching for the first few stars of the night. In the little bit of time that he had become acquainted with Shimmer, he had become a bit wiser, and he thought he had found a certain amount of inner peace and confidence that he didn’t know he had. She had that effect on people. She was friendly, but rarely said much unless it was of some consequence, a rather Rogue-like trait. She had a respect for life, and harboured this inner well of joy that would spontaneously make her act like a filly. She, like most abandons (and himself) had little to no memory of her previous bond, but she did not dwell on it. The past was just that- the past, and he admired her for it. She was, however, curiously disconnected from her surroundings sometimes, an ethereal presence in their little family grouping. Yet her overwhelming confidence instantly made her attractive to the others, although she seemed to take little interest in joining a circle, finding a mate, and all other forms of attachment, in much the same manner as him. She did, however, seem to take it upon herself to educate him in all things Rogue, as if he were some unusual specimen of such. He knew that he had been influenced by his bond-mates, and had matured with a rather odd perception of things, which was different from most Rogues apparently, or so he had been told.
He tossed his head, sending his long streaked mane flying into the wind. He had begun to take notice of his own physical strength in a way in which he never had before; the way his muscles shifted and recoiled during a gallop, or the way he could easily body-check Silver in a tussle. Shimmer had pointed it out to him- she was a diminutive mare, but he knew that she easily had the ability to pinion even the largest stallion in their group, not that she would. It was apparently part of the Rogue strength. She had also started to tutor him in certain magical abilities, which, again, he had been previously unaware of. He continued to regard her with interest. How she knew all this information was beyond him; it was clear, at least, that she was very in tune with her nature.
Shimmer, instinctively feeling the gaze of someone at her back, flipped over to regard Galaxy. Without hesitating, she trotted over to his side to stand and watch the horizon as well, her golden eyes unmoving as she spoke.
“You are thinking of her,” she stated simply.
Galaxy shifted slightly, betraying his slight unease with the mare’s uncanny ability to know where his thoughts were straying. Problem was, she was right... in some respects.
“Perhaps,” he said mildly, attempting to appear nonchalant, something that Shimmer found immensely amusing.
The two did not continue to discuss the issue, but instead enjoyed the creeping comfort of the night and the relative solitude that it provided before guests arrived.
-------------------------------
Gem, Nymph and Karma were arrayed nearest to the cottage, positioned as the self-appointed welcoming crew. Brightly jewelled eyes regarded the other two mares with obvious exasperation. Karma had insisted on “dressing up” in much the same manner as Mango, however the Lady had taken an immense amount of time braiding the mare’s mane and intertwining it with numerous tiny shamrock shaped decorations rather than imitation clover. The mare was immensely proud of her appearance, and pranced about happily, pausing every now and again to gaze at herself in any reflective surface. Gem, who was not very particular about preening, found her behaviour childish and a tad annoying. Not to mention the fact that she had other things on her mind... namely the absence of her mate for quite a few years now.
Nymph did her best to quell the other mare’s incessant preening, even though she knew it was relatively harmless and that Karma was merely excited. Gem had been particularly irritable as of late, and she had no desire to incite her wrath. She fidgeted, her fluttering wings betraying her nervousness as she continually complimented the mare, hoping that the overwhelming amount of attention might get her to calm down a bit.
Gem herself had a single shamrock decoration tucked behind her ear, which stood out shockingly against her turquoise mane and yellow hide. To make her bad mood worse, the clover slipped off, leaving Gem with no means of placing it back in its original position. Scowling, she stared at the other mares, which caused Nymph to involuntarily snort in alarm. Inwardly, she scolded herself. None of this was Nymph or Karma’s doing, so she smiled softly at Nymph, trying to reassure her. Really, she wasn’t irritated with her. The little mare was trying her best to alleviate her stress, and she knew that the mare was intuitive enough to discern why she had been upset.
Nymph looked away from a now prattling Karma and smiled softly back.
“Will the guests be coming soon?” she asked quietly. Her voice was so soft that even Karma stopped in her excited babbling and experimental tail-swishing to listen. Truth be told, she wasn’t fond of being on guest-duty. The thought of all those people had her stomach tied into knots and ready to bolt for the forest.
“Soon enough love,” replied Gem briefly before lipping idly at the grass. She knew that the mare was painfully shy at best, but thought that this experience would be good for her. She needed to meet some new friends.
Talia stepped up beside the mare and placed a hand on her back. She knew that Gem had been beside herself for months, absolutely devastated about Surf’s disappearance. He had been absent for approximately five years, and Gem was despairing. She hoped that meeting some new people and seeing old friends would help to cheer her up. With a small smile, she picked up the shamrock and wound it tightly into the mare’s mane, just behind her ear where it used to be, securing it from further mishap.
Now they just had to wait for the guests...