the Rift


[OPEN] Bad Times

Rikyn the Puppeteer Posts: 549
Aurora Basin Lord atk: 7.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 4.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.3 :: 4 HP: 70 | Buff: SWIFT
Duir :: Royal Cerndyr :: Earth Spirit Bunnie
#2
Яikyn
The red forest was sacred, to me, at least.

If I were ever to meet with Ming Yue again (I certainly hoped so) I would ask her of its origins, of whether or not it truly was holy, or if it was just a title I’d given it for what had happened here. I watch the river I walk alongside, and ponder its testament to the God who had filled it with the blood of mortals, and then himself; the waters whisper by me, their beds glittering enticingly, and the memories of the Spark, his magnanimous being crackling like the flashing bellies of storm clouds. I think of Erebos, alongside me, his rapier in time with my own as my blade severed clean the fibrous things holding the Bear’s paw to the rest of it. I see Aithniel ablaze, her feathers trailing embers, a warrior woman if I’d ever met one, and think, sadly, that this was the last time that we three had truly been together, working as one.

I had thought, once, that we always would be one, like the parts which made the whole of the Sentinels. But they rotted away now, rusting, collapsing in on themselves.

That wasn’t us, I tell myself as I pick up my pace to an easy lope, slipping into the soft, rhythmic drum of my hooves eating the distance between here and wherever I’ll be when I stop. Erebos and I had left Aithniel in that inch deep, peculiar sea, and we were stronger for it…

Weren’t we?

The young fawn who has been only just keeping up with me follows the deep, dark reach of my emotions today with reservation. While I am used to bounding from elation, to sorrow, to rage, Duir does not understand; he has never encountered this particular Rikyn before. The young cerndyr has a steady heart, one which is placid and noble, all the things I want to be, but can’t manage with my busy head; my erratic nature makes his head swim, but the sudden sweep from morose to downright depressed draws the buck closer than he’s been all day.

The gentle brush of his downy coat kisses my shoulder just as we come about a blind curve, and the sight which greets us is familiar, only to one. Duir, on sight of the predator at Oultik’s hooves, drops his pace, almost instantaneously moving from my side to behind me, afraid of the cub, her claws, and her teeth. He may, also, be picking up on the general hostile air which seems to crackle with radiance about the dappled man’s figure. I certainly do, and it is in stark contrast to the calm, collected demeanor of the stallion the last we’d met.

"Oultik?" I greet, mostly because I’m prepared to haul ass out of here if it seems like he’s going to try and kick me for showing up. Duir still hasn’t forgiven me for the spar with the old man, and I’m not about to start another with someone I consider to be, loosely, anyway, a friend (and I don’t have many of those). Sweeping my eyes across his body, I actually notice that something is off about the way he looks in comparison to last time, and it’s not just that his companion (Erak? Erika? I don’t fucking know, something Erik-y…) is much larger than she had been when last we’d met. Suddenly, it hits me: no dagger adorns his side.

Well, damn. He’d loved that thing, even if I couldn’t understand why a piece of magic-less metal could be so precious. It even had a name, but I’m about as hopeful to remember it as I am to recall something I don’t know at all. "Are you okay?"

I’m not an amazing listener, you see. It’s almost laughable that I’m even trying to help out a guy I’ve only met a few times, and even Duir seems to smirk at the thought. Still, I’d been able to help Glacia feel better, right? There is a chance he gave his beloved dagger to a woman, who did what women do: leave. I’d be pretty pissed too, if I was the sort to give important things to trollops. Or, maybe, it was stolen away, like I’d tried to take that guy’s dragon decoration, but unlike that guy, no flaming behemoth of hell had fallen from the sky in defense. Maybe he knows who took his stuff. Maybe he just hasn’t the balls to storm up and kick them until they give it back.

I certainly do.

[ OOC: Sorry its so long D: ]
in every heart a hole
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@Oultik

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Force/violence is allowed to be used on Rikyn permitted it does not permanently maim or kill him (PM me!).


Messages In This Thread
Bad Times - by Oultik - 06-19-2016, 03:53 PM
RE: Bad Times - by Rikyn - 06-22-2016, 12:09 PM

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