Don't Let Your Guard Down |Meta x Carlisle x Open|

[amity]

Just like the living dead, I've got a taste for something And I can't believe that it's getting harder just to feel alive. Last rays of the days light shown through the horizon, casting shadows of monstrous looking things that the young and weak quivered under, the temperatures had been nearly unbearable to the average equine however now the relief of the night took over and while they feared the darkness, they feared the overbearing heat even more and so the night was more alive now than it had been in months. Unhindered by the heat of summer nor the frost of winter, the beast and canine had adventured endlessly only stopping to take turns on short naps to keep energy up, they had no home per say and did not trust the land in which they found themselves, however, they were more than capable of protecting and keeping themselves safe. Duo had crossed into this territory after leaving his leading position of a militia, large and feared by all whom had crossed them on bad terms or even good terms. The decision was made by Carlisle, in order to flea love struck vixen he had used and wanted nothing more than just that, however when she began to swell the obsession of family persisted and she pursued him until it was either death to her, or he leave without a trace. Carlisle was not a weak brute, no. He easily could have killed the bitch and his kin along with her, however, he did have standards and that fell out of his boundaries. Threaded into him was the love for his mother, and when she passed he had an overwhelming attack of guilt and there for crossed mothers and children off of his kill list. Lupe, the indebted canine, left the shadows and joined the stallion, he had traveled ahead to assure they were in the correct direction – wherever that was. His sturdy hooves picked up to a trot leaving the suns final rays and joining the shadows and darkness of the night, always pushing himself forwards into improvement he would often speed up and dodge various objects. His twists and turns brought him to what seemed to be a barren land, the sands lay still and shrubs hid in their own cast shadows not wishing to be prayed on by the desperate. Water was nowhere in sight nor was it to be heard, not even the slightest whiff of it cross the nares of the beast, indeed this land was empty not a place for weak souls to live perhaps he would look into whom was the lead. Looking about a light bounced off, an unusual curve within the land was brought to the brutes attention and he approached it, as he got closer it became more defined and he recognized it as a cave, or a cavern of sorts. Standing at its entrance the beast stepped into the mouth and let out a loud bellow. Whomever reined over the lands would hear it, especially if this system was expansive. After letting his bellow out the brute exited, and began maneuvering around the opening ever watching for any onlookers in the nights darkness. for General SigmaButt σ | 512 words | credit JELLYFISH PRINCESS

[General SigmaButt σ]

we are

^THE Μ Ξ Τ Λ

no one man should have all that p o w e r

| Sigma | Theta | Omega | Eta/Iota | Gamma | Delta | Beta |

<sup>Sweat painted the gold and ivory flesh of the large bronc as he made his way back toward the caverns to rest. His fresh wounds stung with each movement, but it was a feeling he was all too familiar with and paid no mind to. He walked in compatible silence alongside the smaller painted flesh of his brother in arms, Harkness. He, too, was littered with wounds, both fresh and old. They had just finished sparring. The match extended a bit longer than usual. Ultimately, The Meta won, but he would openly admit that the blue eyed brute was a good match. He was smaller and more agile, and he knew to use that against Meta. Harkness knew to wait and strike until just after he struck, as Meta was hardly nimble enough to dance away from the blow. Instead, he's forced to soak up the blows. Meta always enjoyed fighting his type. It reminded him of his time back in his old division. Few soldiers were his size, so he was always paired against the sleek and agile types. It was a good challenge; one of the few things he enjoyed. He doubted he would have won if it wasn't for all the former practice he had against his smaller comrades.

The heat of the day, almost unbearable in these desert lands, began to give way to the cool of the night. Something he greatly preferred. He may have been trained to withstand all types of environments and temperatures, but even still, the sun scorched his flesh and almost stifled the air in his lungs. A breeze rolled by, sweeping up a cloud of dust with it. The wind felt fantastic on his sweat-soaked skin. A low sigh from his companion gave hint that he felt the same. They reached the caverns and Meta allowed Harkness entrance first. He gave a final sweep of the lands before entering. The caves were oddly shaped and still gave Meta a sense of unease and vertigo, but he pushed passed it. Many get lost when they first arrive at these lands, and he couldn't blame them. The tunnels were confusing at best and a downright labyrinth at worst.

He was about to turn toward his own resting area when a bellow echoed through the corridors. While it could have come from several directions, he deduced it was probably toward the entrance of the lands, given that none of the current members would be shouting and no one else had been at the sparring grounds. He gave a look to Harkness and both set out to greet the guest. It was Harkness night to guard the border and make rounds, so he had been making his way toward the sound anyway. Crimson and ocher oculars landed on a brindled bronc waiting on the outside of the corridors. He was somewhere between Harkness' and Meta's height. With a glance, Meta noticed the electric opts of his friend were scanning the intruder with all the cold and clinical proficiency as usual. As they paused, Harkness gave a questioning look to Meta, silently asking if he'd like him to stay. He didn't see it as necessary, and instead motioned for him to continue on to patrol the lands. With a small nod, he left the two.

There was a moment of silence as Meta studied the brute; taking in any noticeable features for identifying purposes, and any obvious weak spots. He took note of a wolf in close proximity to the stallion. A companion, he surmised. He had heard of beings with odd creatures as their companions, though he personally seen very few. His two sons both had red pandas that hung on to them at all times. He studied the czar, a rather brief action as Meta truly wasn't interested in just what someone looked like; only their disposition and ailments. When he spoke, his voice was almost impossibly deep and just as guttural. The words were just barely distinguishable beyond the natural gritty growl of his larynx. "State your purpose." There was no room left for question in his words, just the demand. Two-toned oculars held the brilliant green pools of the bronc across from him with a heavy, piercing stare.

Words: 704
Tagged: amity
Notes: Meta has the personality and emotional range of a rock, I swear.</sup>

[amity]

Just like the living dead, I've got a taste for something And I can't believe that it's getting harder just to feel alive. From within the caverns two figures approached, Carlisle was a few yards away from the mouth and the night did not unveil them both. He could see them silently agree only one was necessary the other left, but did not enter back into the living space instead headed for the boarders, no doubt to patrol. Carlisle’s attention was on the approaching stag, he stood silently and still now seeping in the darkness, looking back only once to look at the semi yapping wolf wanting to know if he could go off and ensure their safety. Carlisle did not think it was appropriate, it could send the message that he thought poorly of the abilities of whomever lead this terrain and he wasn’t wanting to get off on the wrong foot. Slightly kicking back at the canine he parted his velvet kissers and leaked out his low growl of a voice No need to be rude, Lupe. I’m positive they have wonderful sentries there is no need to patrol here. The figure stopped in front of him, his attention now turned to the figure alone. His frame was large and golden, with the exception of white on his frame and the white blanket on his back, his cranium was over his own and his build was bulkier than his own as well, this was due to genetics he was sure the giveaway being his massive hooves, draft. His body told stories of battle, dried blood was still being surpassed by the not yet healed wounds that seeped the warm fluid over the dried, and leaving mounds of his pelt stuck together and eventually stained. He wore many scars, surly from war of some sort, leading Carlisle he surely had found the place he belonged. State your purpose. Baritone was short of how low these tones were, they barked and commanded clearly this was the lead, or at least one of them, of this territory. Carlisle nodded to the beast and kept his crown a bit lower out of respect. He had always been respectful of those whom earned it and the way this stallion presented himself and spoke, the way he demanded without demanding, was enough for right now for Carlisle to show him respect, even if it was in the slightest of ways. His stair was harsh, and as demanding as his tones so Carlisle did not take long to reply, his tones dark and raspy, but spoke clearly at the same time. I am Carlisle. A former commander of my own militia, successful and feared by all they crossed. I am looking for a position, perhaps to build my name under an already established form of command. His words were a slight puzzle as he thought about them, but he wasn’t quite sure about how to word what he wanted. A growl came from behind him, and looking back at the mutt silence over took the beast as he slightly cowered at the glare. Then he turned his attention back to the beast before him, awaiting in silence giving him all the time he wished for to reply. for General SigmaButt σ | 521 words | credit JELLYFISH PRINCESS

[General SigmaButt σ]

we are

^THE Μ Ξ Τ Λ

no one man should have all that p o w e r

| Sigma | Theta | Omega | Eta/Iota | Gamma | Delta | Beta |

<sup>"No need to be rude, Lupe. I’m positive they have wonderful sentries there is no need to patrol here." At those words, Meta glanced between the bronc and his canine companion. Beyond that small motion, no sign was given that he heard the words. He had not been directly addressed, therefore it was not his business. Meta felt no need to ensure the proficiency of his band's sentries. Actions always speak louder than words and there had yet to be any successful attack on the lands. There was a continuous, twenty-four seven patrol around the lands by trained members. Such a task was not entrusted to recruits or pupils. Too much was at risk to let them guard the lands.

Meta watched and waited as the czar before him examined his physique. He allowed the inspection to continue with no resistance. A cool breeze swept across the plains and through the corridors, whistling down the twisted caverns and leaving a cloud of dust in its wake. His ivory whip, jagged and short as he never did like keeping his mane or tail long, snapped in an almost subconscious retaliation to the sudden gust of cool air.

He watched as the bronc came to some wordless conclusion. The minute lowering of his crown, was not lost on Meta. While he did not expect deference, nor did he ever demand it of his own members, he could, in his own way, appreciate the gesture. The brute, given his own scars and almost militant response to Meta's commanding vocals, was quite possibly former military himself. The thought settled oddly in Meta's mind. The voices hissed in their own conflicted opinions. On one hand, the male would be well-trained and versed in the art of warfare, but on the other, Meta didn't exactly have the best track record with soldiers, given that he killed nearly all his former squad mates.

Soon, the raspy tenor of the male caught Meta's full attention. "I am Carlisle. A former commander of my own militia, successful and feared by all they crossed. I am looking for a position, perhaps to build my name under an already established form of command." While Meta didn't exactly need a full dossier on Carlisle, he filed the information away for further analysis. It also seemed he was indeed fully trained in combat and strategy, which is something Meta was always looking for in a member.

He cocked his head ever so slightly and looked over the potential recruit once more, as well as his canine companion, appraising them in a way. "The Meta." Sure, he could tack on his own accomplishments; being a special ops soldier in one of the strongest and most successful branches to tred his lands, survivor of wounds that would prove fatal to most others, and killer of nearly everyone who had met him before coming into these lands, but he figured it was unnecessary. Besides, telling one that their future leader has a tendency to systematically kill his teammates wasn't exactly the best selling point for a band.

"Know what we do here?" He couldn't exactly accept the stag in without him knowing just what the band did for a living. Once they got that out of the way, and once the male picked a profession, if he decided to stay, they'd move on to a physical assessment. Meta wouldn't deny that he had rather high standards when it came to physical health. Mental health? Not so much. But he put each and every member through rigorous training, giving them every other day off for rest. Nothing less than peak physical condition passed in these lands.

Words:  605
Tagged: amity
Notes: BLEEEGH. BLUGH.</sup>

[amity]

Just like the living dead, I've got a taste for something And I can't believe that it's getting harder just to feel alive. The standards that he held himself to, he expected the same from everyone in his position, when he held it. If you were going to risk your lives to take down others, to protect others, to offer others aid whether it be good or bad for the common good, you needed to be in top shape. Carlisle was ever preparing his physical and mental abilities, right now he was looking at the beast before him, trying to decide what he stance was. Though the brute knew this he did not try to hide the fact that he was not impressed by the new comer brindled printed bastard before him, and he had every right not to be. Carlisle watched the brute, and listened, The Meta. Nodding in acknowledged the brute watched him, his gears in his head turning and thinking about who knows what. Know what we do here? the brute was a new comer, he had heard slight ideas of what was done here but did not go into detail. Pondering this for a moment he cocked his head, and decided he would rather have a full explanation, he parted his kissers, exposing ivory kissers and his deep raspy voice flowed outwards. I have heard bits and pieces… he paused thinking about how to summarize what he’s heard. Consisting of contracts of sorts…. This is where hands for hire come if I’m not mistaken. he watched the stag, his lime orbs glowing in the light of the moon’s rays, the light stolen from the sun and radiated to the earth’s surface. Anything else I am not aware of as I am new to these lands, you see. He stood in silence and awaited a response from the larger brute, unsure of what to expect. for General SigmaButt σ | 300 words | credit JELLYFISH PRINCESS