the Rift


[OPEN] Burn, Burn, the life you can't choose. [Eris, Open]

Torleik the Bloodskald Posts: 354
Outcast atk: 4.5 | def: 8.0 | dam: 7.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.3 :: 11 HP: 66.5 | Buff: SWIFT
Irelyn :: Plain Griffin :: Molten Dagger RedGod
#7

TORLEIK
Death follows into your watery grave


Something akin to a growl barely escaping from his teeth, Torleik re-oriented himself to face this mare who called herself crazy, bloothirsty, and looking to start some chaos. Was everyone in this fucking place batshit insane? Glacial eyes roving over the intruding bitch, Torleik noted with some dark humor in the back of his mind that it looked as if a flock of pigeons had taken turns crapping on her hindquarters in this light.

The mare seemed to be a goldenish color with red mane and tail, and opal eyes. She also seemed to be crazy. Torleik was most assuredly getting tired of crazy. You couldn't trust it. Ever. Not for one second. Crazy was wholly controlled by the will of the moment, the lust for whatever was desired right then. You could never be certain the horse exhibiting the behavior had the will to reign it in when you most needed him to. Or her. There did seem to be a slightly disproportionate number of psychotic women in this place than men.

The dual-horned obsidian stag remained quiet and listened to the conversation between Arlo and this woman, his opinion of the white equine wavering some. They seemed to know each other from before. The exchange suggested Arlo had fought alongside this woman and had subsequently begun to wander around instead of reporting back home. If Arlo's home was with this crazy bitch, Torleik was more concerned for the sanity of this horse than before. Perhaps he was projecting his hope that someone, anyone in Helovia was normal, but he could've sworn Arlo didn't look pleased to be speaking to the mare. It was almost as if he wanted to simply slink away and never have to return to that place they both hailed from.

A frown sat grimly above his bearded chin when this Eris addressed him. She wished for his name. He was not sure he wanted to give it. However, being schooled in proper chivalric codes, he was compelled to answer her name with his own."Torleik." That didn't mean he had to be flowers and roses about it. Regarding Arlo again, the unicorn felt pity. Unlike this mare, Torleik sensed no real malice in Arlo, only a great amount of sadness and conflict within his darkness.

Eris, on the other hand...her sugary concern that had coated her question to the white stallion left a sticky, unwashed feeling on Torliek's pelt. She was manipulative, cold and calculating. That he could feel. There was a disconnect between her words, the emotion they conveyed, and her somewhere and it set him on edge. "Is there something you need?" he asked of Eris, his tone like gravel crunched underfoot into a pane of glass.

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Messages In This Thread
RE: Burn, Burn, the life you can't choose. [Eris, Open] - by Torleik - 09-10-2013, 03:18 PM

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