broke as hell, but blessed with beauty,
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the kind that a rich man can't turn down
speech
ooc: A bit recycled and very rusty, but open for anyone!
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how he died is still a mystery..
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It should be stated for the sake of physical record that Romina and Kiada should probably have never met. Not that Romina would ever think so, or dare to manifest such a thought in the future. But for the sake and stability of greater Helovia, the faux-cousins should have never been introduced to each other. There was a twisted nature to their souls, an off-kilter strangeness that did not quite have the time to develop into something outwardly evil. In some ways they were still nothing but children, with all the innocence and naive bravery that came along with their titles. But combined, they were an unstoppable force. One that would undoubtedly spin out of control in the future, as their schemes and machinations grew more complex and held higher stakes and consequences. And as much as Romina desired to only have her brother for company on expeditions such as this one, he too wandered into the wilds on his own just like she did. So whenever he found herself alone in the mountainous lands, irritated once more with the cold and the itch of adventure under her skin, she went seeking her beloved cousin. It was plainly easy to convince Kiada to go gallivanting farther into the south than Romina had ever ventured before on her own. Safety in numbers was a ridiculous notion when they were two young fillies wandering about in the aftermath of godly battles and portals tearing between two worlds. Yet they ventured onward into the depths of the wilds, and Romina could finally breathe easy beneath the heat of the summer sun, turning her chestnut coat into a glowing ember of color. The fawn spotting on her body played tricks with the light filtering through the leaves, and she finally felt at home in her body and environment. With Kiada at her side, the journey was bound to be a complete success regardless of the outcome. Romina had asked Mama what the Threshold was and its purpose after the herd meeting that had emphasized recruitment. A contest, even, set forth by Kiada's mother. And Romina already knew her competitive streak was slowly but stubbornly blooming inside her as she aged. So when the pair stumbled across the brightly colored woman in the long shadows of the trees, Romina cast her apricot eyes across their surroundings, internally shrugged, and sauntered up to the adult with an inquisitive look. "Are you lost?" Opal antlers tilt along her delicate cranium as she drinks in the sight of this odd woman. Not that she has any true place to talk, considering her own endless list of mutated parts. She does not offer her name, not yet, an excited thrill zinging through her as she imagines using the code name Kid had created for her. If she could silently communicate that to Kiada, of course. But...if they were supposed to recruit people (whatever that meant, aside from bringing them to the Basin as far as Romina understood) then maybe she shouldn't give the lass a false name. Romina flicked her burning gaze to Kiada and sidled closer on graceful limbs, tri-toes pawing at the grass and wilted ferns beneath. Open for weird little cousin babies? HELLO HELLO haha!
07-14-2016, 12:42 AM
@Paradox COUSIN TAKEOVER :D Would you like to be tagged? IT'S SAID SHE'S MADE OF STORM CELLS AND A WILD WOLF'S HUNGRY HEART, THAT SHE'S LEARNT THE LIGHTNING'S SECRET TO RIPPING DARKENED SKIES APART.
@Kiada @Romina
07-14-2016, 10:32 AM
The Threshold is less choked with trees than the area around the Blood Falls where Seanan had been wont to linger of late. A white wraith, he drifted here and there, aimless as the wind. In truth he was looking because technically now he was supposed to be a healer, if a poor one. But his herd had it's share of migrants and one of those had been an herb woman of some skill. She had taught him, in his infant curiosity, and described some of the plants from her homeland she used in healing. Despite her vast skill, she had to re-learn much to adequately use the scarce flora of the desert. Her homeland as he recalled, could not have been much different than Helovia and already he had made note of where some certain herbs and trees grew, tentatively naming him as he racked his brain for the distant lessons.
Willow Marigold Foxglove And thus it went, until the noise of voices catches his ears. The pale stallion lifts his head from his inspection of some low growing plant- clover. For a moment he stands still and silent, not even a twitch of his thin tail. His ears train towards the direction of the voices and carefully, delicately, he begins to move towards them. His long limbs stretch into an easy amble that looks as though it should trip him and yet is equally graceful, in an odd sort of way. Within moments he is in sight of the chestnut mare and her... companions. He stops short, fore hooves braced in front of him and knees locked. White flashes around the rosy iris of his eyes. They were speaking, the three. Two children, so fragile in the solitude of the wilderness. His coat jumped and trembled from the nerves beneath it. The sight of the intricately marked mare steeled his resolve somewhat. Had he not been lingering on the Threshold once before? So, with some hesitation, he approached a few steps closer. Are you lost? Hadn't the son of the desert asked him the same? He closes the distance to the little group as the chestnut mare finishes speaking. He stops perhaps a little farther away than is normal, and stayed well to the side to keep as much space as possible between himself and the fillies without making conversation impossible. "It seems that many come to Helovia for that reason." His voice is soft, a it high pitched for his great, gaunt frame. "Are you simply passing through or seeking shelter here?" His eyes shift briefly to the two fillies and his ears lay back uncertainly. Tension vibrates through his long body. OOC:// Seanan is here representing The Unbound, an Outcast group. @Paradox
All interactions are go, short of death and permanent crippling.
07-14-2016, 10:05 PM
They stood as a pair, hips cocked and horned heads tilting inquisitively at the colorful creature before them. Two ghouls haunting the yawning shadows of the forest, enticed by adventure but bound by duty and curiosity. Kiada does not have her brother's fluid movement, and they do not move together like two parts of one whole. It makes Romina ache for her beastly twin, wonders how long it will take for him to realize she has wandered from him again. He will find her, as he always does. As she bids him, as she trained him to. He is hers and she is his, but in his absence, her macabre cousin is a suitable replacement. Her long leonine tail playfully moves to wrap around Kiada's hind ankle, dancing closer to the emanating warmth of her bodice. A show of unity. The pale faced woman stares for an indeterminate amount of time. Romina dislikes her blatant ogling, it reminds her too strongly of the gossiping, chittering beasts of the Basin. The ones that believe she cannot hear their whispered jibes and crooned, faux concerns for her appearance. She lifts her tiara proudly, meeting the mare's gaze steadily until at last her lips part to speak. The pun is not lost on her, even in her youth. Mama had explained from the very start why she appeared different, why people may mistake her for a deer or cerndyr in the future. An attempt to prepare the banshee girl for the judgment she would encounter in life. But she smiles and pretends to not hear the needling of her voice, though her tail tightens a little around Kiada, bumping hips to help control her emotions. The paid had been practicing together to try and control their magic, which activated in both of them when their emotions ran high. Of course, Romina couldn't help but roll her own eyes internally at the familiar answer. Bones (better known as Kid to all but she) had said nearly the exact same thing. Could nobody speak plainly, like her brother? Or at least have the creativity to try a little harder. If you didn't notice by now, Romina is a bit of a critic. The appearance of another silences whatever she intends to say, which is quite favorable considering the sass she had that never ceased to land her in hot water. He seemed afraid of them, or wary. Romina was too young to truly distinguish between the two, but his unsure countenance was not pleasing. Romina's ears were not quite equine, but she knew their language, still an equine at heart. But there are more important things to focus on. Like shelter, for instance, which the nameless man mentions. "It's cooler in our home, up north. It's called the Basin. Mama is Lady, and Kiada's mom is the head Thief." Her antlers erupted into colorful opalescent fire as pride surged through her breast at the statuses of their mothers, the emotion sweeping the flames into being between her ears until she got control of it once more. "We don't even know your names though, that's impolite." A pointed, blunt statement. Romina knew the purpose of tact and playing nice, but it seemed to have no place here. She'd rather know what the colorful woman wanted to do, if she would like to be escorted to the Basin or if she and Kiada could go back to their exploring. "I'm Romina. What are your names?" The cervine girl paused appropriately to let Kiada introduce herself as well before casting her orange gaze to the ghost stallion, clearly asking both he and the intricately-marked mare what their titles were.
07-15-2016, 12:40 AM
@Paradox :D (i'm super excited to be threading with Seanan to be honest Rien xD) IT'S SAID SHE'S MADE OF STORM CELLS AND A WILD WOLF'S HUNGRY HEART, THAT SHE'S LEARNT THE LIGHTNING'S SECRET TO RIPPING DARKENED SKIES APART.
@Kiada @Romina @Seanan
07-15-2016, 01:32 PM
He listens to their speech and his skin shivers at the thoughts of such long, icy nights as the two fillies describe. Well, that and their nearness. He can't help but watch them as though afraid they might grow fangs- or break into a thousand shards of glass, broken and bloody on the Threshold floor. He isn't even perturbed by their unusual features because all he sees are children made of spun glass. As if to bar the cold the stallion shifts backward a pace, out from under the shade of the tree so that a patch of sunlight falls full upon his pearly coat. He is unconscious of the effect, only craving to draw in the heat that beats down during the summer day.
He does not address himself to the fillies when he finally does speak, his attention primarily focused on the mare. He does not know how to act around them. "I am Seanan." There is hesitation in his voice as he tries to decide how to describe his loose allegiance to a group he has hardly seen, much less been part of. But since he is here he feels a weight of obligation that this mare at least know her options. "There are herds here, like theirs-" He inclines his head towards the two younglings, his first real acknowledgement of them. "Any of whom might offer you rest and shelter, I am sure. I am not tied to any herd land. There is a loose group of people here in Helovia who choose to maintain our independence. It is... a network, for the sharing of knowledge and aid. I believe Ashamin, who founded it, calls it the Unbound. It is an option so you might still have resources to call upon while you reside in Helovia, if you choose not to take fealty to a herd. You would of course be free to change your mind, if you find it does not suit you." His eloquence exaughsted the white stallion's head swings back briefly towards the fillies, as if truly seeing them for the first time. There is something familiar about the antlered one. Both of them speak with some eloquence beyond their age, but it is not enough to shake the feeling that thier grasp on life is tenuous, at best. They are so tender. "You should not be so far from your home." He does not know truly how far away the Basin is, but he has been to the frozen Northern steppes and he knows the distance is not inconsiderable. @Romina OOC:// I'm thrilled to be threading with one of the Ktwins XD
All interactions are go, short of death and permanent crippling.
graasvoel
His last endeavors in the Threshold had been futile. One woman had vanished, the other Korofi woman had chose to leave with a young (though handsome) colt. But the vulture was not deterred. He was a man of perseverance and ego (perhaps less of the first and more of the latter). And so it was on great, massive, tricolored wings that he soared towards the tree-laden entrance to Helovia. The expansive wings rarely flapped, long feathers and splayed tips built for gliding on thermals more than anything else. Though he realized his mistake of flying above the canopy as he couldn't actually see the newcomers beneath it." “Vervloek bome,“ the annoyance pushed out his dark lips, stark against his white face as red-ringed irises sharpened on the earth below, attempting to find a place to land between the branches. It took a long while, but finally he found a break in the leaves. It was small, for his gargantuan size, and thus a great crashing of limbs accompanied his descent. Twigs and leaves snarled into his knotted mane and feathered legs, a few bright and glossy feathers were bent or left amid the canopy above him. But he had no eyes for what was above him, only what was before him: a woman. She was masked, like many of the plateaus were masked. But she was wingless, and therefore not Korofi-born. Perhaps she is from a Korofi and Debwani coupling? It was unlikely that the timid Debwani would ever come close to the barbaric people of the plateaus… but he had seen (and done) stranger things during his time in the pleasure houses of Uumalah. His attention skitters to the side, only momentarily. To foals, one strangely shaped and the other’s face strangely familiarly marked, hovered close to the brightly masked woman. And another, a man as tall as himself, though not nearly as thickly built—but his attention does not linger long on glittering white man when there is a woman present. White ears sweep forward to hear the end of her introduction, and to catch the man’s offer of a home without a herd? His own, masked face cocks slightly, intrigued with the notion—but no. He is here to offer the woman of interestingly thick locks and a coat as brightly hued as his own a home within the Edge. But, as his eyes sweep the gathering of equines once more, he is not hopeful as it seems these few had been gathered for some time. And, in the presences of fillies, even the bawdy and crude vulture curbs his normally risqué tongue," “Hello, I am Graasvoel. But call me Gaal,” his rough voice runs from his lips," “I, too, can offer you a home, but in the World’s Edge. It is far to the west, with sea cliffs that rival even a woman’s beauty,” his raptor eyes linger on the mare as he speaks, implying many things but outright saying none. And then he falls silent. vervloek bome = cursed trees HELLOOO he is crashing this thread, literally.
07-17-2016, 01:09 PM
@Paradox @Graasvoel @Seanan @Romina (Brit let me skip her! I apologize for the 0 attention span of the child. XD) IT'S SAID SHE'S MADE OF STORM CELLS AND A WILD WOLF'S HUNGRY HEART, THAT SHE'S LEARNT THE LIGHTNING'S SECRET TO RIPPING DARKENED SKIES APART.
07-18-2016, 10:33 AM
@Kiada @Romina @Seanan @Graasvoel
07-18-2016, 01:59 PM
The white stallion jumps, overburdened nerves triggered by the sudden cacophony of the pegasus stallion's landing. His hooves tuck in tight together, mincing in place in an awkward sort of way. It puts further distance between him and the others, another full length of his own body. Then he settles, posture not exactly relaxing but at least more even. His long, slender limbs still their dancing for the moment, nostrils flaring wide as he breathes in slowly and deeply. He is done with this strange gathering, with these children who do not understand their own fragility. With the large stallion who is of his height but heavier, dangerous.
Still the woman is talking and he feels his duty is not quite dispensed so long as she asks questions of him. So he waits his turn to speak, tail lashing back and forth with impatience. He doesn't exactly nod, rolling one shoulder in something of a shrug. "It is freedom, with a mutual agreement for aid. There are... roles, which members agree to. Defense, healing, spirituality, scouting, crafting. We choose two disciplines, and in this way we identify in which roles we are teachers and in which we are students. Participation is.... as much as you wish or don't. Ashamin and many linger around the Blood Falls- you can find it where the woods and water begin to turn red, if you are interested." He turns, with a last worried glance at the two fillies and barely a notice of the other stallion. He flicks his heels slightly and breaks out into a long-strided trot, eager to put more distance between him and the strangers. His threshold for society is past and his duty is discharged. His interest in the mare was only so far as rendering a service which he felt he must. This finished, he turns his head back towards the Blood Falls, head lowers and seeking out plants he might recognize with eyes and nose.
All interactions are go, short of death and permanent crippling.
07-20-2016, 12:16 PM
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