thirdsonofthekhan-blog - Tumblr blog

[thirdsonofthekhan-blog]

"Co mee in  co me in take as seat old chaap the teas aal0most ready howa was yuiaoiuer dua y toadayy"

Complete nonsense was going through Omurtag's head at this moment after he was knocked out by that stone. He didn't even see it coming, in fact.

Meanwhile, Asparukh immediately tensed up his thighs to make his mechanical steed begin galloping towards the assaulter.

He used to be the pravadyr of the Expeditionary Legion and his obligations as one were like basic etiquette to him, still sticking on even long after the ruination of the legion he commanded. It was necessary to attempt conversation when making first contact with new peoples without showing any sign of hostility, whatever happens. But this time, just in case, he prepared for a good fight, resisting the urge to unsheathe his yataghan and charge into battle. In this case, it required will. A lot of it.

He was angry. Very, very angry. They're kidnapping his best friend and they'll pay for this if they don't return him this instant!

This one had sharp senses, it seemed. He was still a good distance away from them when they turned to look who was galloping towards them.

Meanwhile, in Omurtag's head:

"Bign flyoing shc iken./'??????? Thanb tt wa s veah 8ry reo iud,!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! QUit oyiuer name calllikjgn irght nowi or illl peck yoiu into suikbmission!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Yiouj...............................you.........."

And then, he blacked out. Hopefully this will be temporary.

You’re wandering around either your home or the Desert minding your own business and you see this silhouette in the distance. The eagle-looking part of the silhouette detaches itself from the rest of it and begins swooping closer and closer to you. It lets out a screech. What do you do? ==>_

========================================

Ahneeeee I got myself a big flying chicken for supper today!

[thirdsonofthekhan-blog]

Black and white (RP with Eikaea)

Throughout his entire time in the Wasteland, if not his entire life, Asparukh had never seen a single white-cloak before. He had only encountered them through legends and myths told by his elders.

He watched him from atop of a ruined building. That young, white-cloaked man. This is the first time he's seen this sort of person with his own eyes. "Howe rare ARE they, aexactly?" he pondered for a moment.

But then again, there's probably even rarer cloak colors, he thought, like purple, or light blue.

Omurtag quietly chirped: "Let's call him. He seems like an interesting fellow."

"Добра идея. (Good idea.)", Asparukh responded.

After a moment, eyes still locked on the unknown white-cloak, he sent a Call:

"ВНИМИЙ, СТОРАННИКО! (HARKE, STRANGER!)"

Exactly a second later he realised he said that in his mother-tongue, instead of the common one. A bit of him screamed in embarrassment inside.

[thirdsonofthekhan-blog]

The vast, beautiful "Rose Desert" (RP with Eska)

"Омуртаже, я надѣлай одна обиколка. Ако видишъ нѣщо интерѣстно, знаешъ що да дѣлаешъ. Ке та чѣкам тоука. (Omurtag, how aboute you make a lappe or two. If you see anythyng interestyng, you knowe whatte to do. I'll waite fore you here.)"

Omurtag, the sentient eagle, took off from Asparukh's hand.

The Rose Desert was vast and the dunes were like waves in an ocean during a hurricane. Also, the sand was pink. Just like in the stories that the elders told to the young back in the Khanate. "And here I thought all these stories were just ridiculous fairy tales..." the eagle thought.

He glided on, scanning the pink dunes for anything interesting. Nothing. Just a few ruins and war machine corpses here and a few flocks of silk fishes and cotton dolphins there. "Hm...Not that interesting after all. Those stupid old gits have been teaching kids the wrong things this whole blasted time." the eagle complained. He would be quite surprised if there was an actual living rythulian walking around in this harsh climate...

And at that moment, he saw her. A young, white-haired girl in blue robes. She was carrying a lute on her back. "Hmm...I say, she's quite the looker..."

He spiralled down, signalling the girl with a scree to catch her attention. Then, he landed on a nearby rock and inspected her, turning his head left and right so he could see better with his one eye, due to the quite annoying little flaw that was the fact that he can't look straight ahead because of the shape of his head. It made him look like a stupid, idiotic, normal bird and he hated it, though not as much as he entirely loathed normal birds.

"Quite the looker, indeed." the eagle thought as he eyed the young woman up and down. "One eye's green, the other's hazel, she must be an interesting lass...And she's a lute player, too. I bet she sings just as well as she plays. I also like the face...Such a sweet, pretty little lady, just look at those fluffy white locks of hair...She probably has quite the cute attitude, too, I can tell from that look on her face."

He chirped. "I'd like you to state your name, please, thank you." was what he really wanted to come out of his mouth instead of a chirp, but, well, he was a bloody bird. All these dozens and dozens of millenniums and his kind has been too stupid to evolve for actual speech. Bloody ridiculous.

He hoped the young lady understood the Primitive Language of Chirps and Chimes.

[thirdsonofthekhan-blog]

((guise let's do it))

Send me 'Huh?' and my muse will talk to yours in another language.

[thirdsonofthekhan-blog]

"They aren't aexactly thatt mysteryous. They're juste markes thatt showe my ranke in socyetie...Make thatt "showed"..."

For the sake of interest, the tattoos on Asparukh's face would've meant he was a Prince of the Khanate. The tattoos were known by Tugarin commoners as "Маркитѣ на Принца" ("Marks of the Prince").

thirdsonofthekhan:

♥ ((haha i’m a loser))

" I know nothing about you. But I love your dark eyes"

" - And these tattoos on your face looks so mysteriously. Can I touch it?"

[thirdsonofthekhan-blog]

Omurtag was just your usual hunting eagle - a magnificent and fierce winged creature with a scarf tied around his neck. On some occasions, he had an insignia hanging from that scarf, but that was not really important. However, he wasn't exactly that usual. Something about him made him very, very unique.

He was sentient.

And right now, he was thinking:

"'Bird'? Really? Did she just call me 'bird'? That was VERY uncalled for, young lady!"

He took off and glided towards the girl, whooshed across her sight and flew up, letting out a scree that was supposed to inform the young lady that she was being utterly rude before gliding off to a silhouette with the shape of a horse with a cloaked man on its back. If one looked carefully, they would see one of its ominously smoldering, cyan-colored eyes. The man riding the strange horse had a musket with a 7,2 ft long barrel and a nicely-decorated tactical tripod holstered on his back. That man's name was Asparukh. He was Omurtag's master.

More of a best friend, he'd say every time this came into question.

He extended his right hand, creating a landing spot for Omurtag. Once the eagle landed, he lowered his hand so that their eyes were on the same level.

"Другарю, що откри o тозъ тамъ? (Comrade, what dyd you fynde out aboute that personne there?)" he asked Omurtag.

Being an eagle has its ups and downs. Being incapable of speech was one of the downs.

Instead of saying "First off, that person is a girl, and secondly, she is probably in a bad mood, so be careful.", Omurtag let out a chirp.

"Мома, значи...(A maiden, then...)", Asparukh replied thoughtfully.

The self-conscious bird had no idea how his good old rythulian friend understood his seemingly incoherent chirps so well.

"Следвай ме.(Follow me.)" Asparukh uttered to the eagle and extended his arm again. Omurtag extended his wings, flapped a few times and took off, right before his friend's horse began trotting swiftly towards the girl.

thirdsonofthekhan:

You see an eagle gracefully spiral about 20 feet above your head. He begins spiraling down to you. Further inspection reveals that he has a scarf tied around its neck. A few seconds later, he lands right near you and gives you a confused look. He lets out a fierce chirp.

" - Shoo, bird! I have nothing for you. I’m not interesting in adopting pets."

[thirdsonofthekhan-blog]

((these guys are also the prototype for asparukh))

Mind-blowing oil paintings by Austrian/Jewish painter, LUDWIG DEUTSCH, LEON GEROME & RUDOLF ERNST in the late 1800s:

 The subject, “The Palace Guard” were depictions of North African medieval Muslims, THE MOORS, who settled in & ruled Northern Africa and invaded and conquered many parts of what we would now consider “Southern Europe (Spain, Portugal, France & Southern Italy-ala Sicily)” for nearly 800 years, from as early as the 7th to the 15th century. Their profound, cultural legacy, influence & what they left behind( Such as the great monuments, the Alhambra and the Mezquita) is evident on modern day spanish architecture, art, music and traditions. All but ignored now largely by both Arab and European world history, The Moors played a significant role during the shaping of prehistory in their early settlement.

[thirdsonofthekhan-blog]

((Are there many sexy women where you are from? And have you banged any of them?))

"There was, indeed, beautyfulle wyfmen in my trybe. Especially thys one gyrl by the name of Yrina. Alas, I never managed to dyscusse my feelyngs aboute her with her..."

((whispers he is a virgin go get him))

[thirdsonofthekhan-blog]

TMI Tuesday

((bee there or bee a tryangular thynge))

[thirdsonofthekhan-blog]

Sakato walked up to the strange man, "Hello, my name is Sakato. Who are you and where did you come from?"

Asparukh looked down at the young man from his horse.

"Имято ми е--I-I mean...My name ys Asparukh, thyrd son of Khan Tunguš. I come from the easte of the mountaine. The northeaste, to be precyse."

The people here seemed quite peculiar. Especially this one. He had heard the people of the wasteland usually wore red and gold cloaks, but this one's cloak was purple.

"So...Sakato...Would you tell me what ys yt lyke exactly yn thys place?"

He was very aware of his own accent. It felt quite uncomfortable.

[thirdsonofthekhan-blog]

((hello welcome to my new character's blog

he's called Asparukh and he is the third son of Khan Tunguš of the Tugarin Khanate, now in ruins

also, he has a scarfed eagle called Omurtag))

"Омуртаг, перегледай що има натам. Поверни се след пет меноти."

A mysterious wanderer and his scarfed eagle have arrived at the wasteland. Who is he? Where does he come from? And what is this strange language he speaks?

The eagle is now scanning the wasteland.