the Rift


[OPEN] the one who creeps in corridors &&..

Circuta Posts: 100
Hidden Account
Mare :: Unicorn :: 16.3 :: 7 Buff: NOVICE
Rhawon :: Siberian Tiger :: None aeolle
#1

The glassy orbs of the swamp gaze towards her person as she enters the land of the paranormal,
the insane, and the deceased. It's stench fills her nostrils with the rotting corpses
that litter the water's that may have once been pristine. It is murky, the milky
centers of the blind, and she is well aware of the sense of visuals locked unto her
scraped and bruised bodice. And still, the shade raises her tail high in the air,
presentable, regal, perhaps; with a bitter twist. A apple, with a bad core.

The shadow is wounded, yes, but she is damned if she will not look as
presentable as she can when she is searching for that which her
head bows to. She blends with the darkness, melds with it's
crevices as a lover caresses their sweetheart.
Gnarled branches rise into the sky, obscure the light, and yet the
rising dawn blankets the dangers of the swamp with a surreal
mist. It dances and sings around her, mixing with the distant calls of birds, and the much closer dying
songs of crickets and frogs. The melodies surround her, and she listens to their
various calls with ready harks.

It is odd, the gazes of invisible ghouls on her coat. And yet, she does not
feel unwelcome in this place, she feels as if they have accepted her family,
as if they are the ghoul's as well. She cackles at the thought of the
unwelcome entering this land, only to find themselves
dragged down into the depths by the protector's, the spirits,
the creatures that hide beneath the surface. The trapped souls of angry warriors, mothers,
families, children. In direct consequence of her lungs exhaling and inhaling for
the crazed laughter that bubbles into the air, a grimace spreads across her maw. Pain shoots through her sides,
and she ceases the action immediately. Still.. this place.

It is home.
She needs healing. And yet first she needs to speak with the sisters that lead them into
victory, the two queen's that sit upon the throne.
A pause in the middle of the kingdom, her indigo orbs gaze with sharp intent into the
shadowy, old dryads that obscure her vision, along with the low-settled mists.
Her voice lilts into the air, sing-song, despite the pain that it causes.
"I seek your presence, vermilion and jester goddesses, my queens. Grant me your arrival."

tagged; @[Seele] @[Eris]

Seele the Necromancer Posts: 210
Deceased atk: 5.5 |
Mare :: Unicorn :: 14.2 hh :: five (ages orangemoon) Buff: NOVICE
Abba
#2
A quiet voice. It trickles into the wind, allowing it to spin through the trees and weave into my ears. I remember the treble chords, but only vaguely. It is the words themselves that trigger the memory lurking in my cranium. Arlo's recruit - Circuta. The mare who had dawned Eris and I 'queens' and nicknamed us Goddesses. Oh, how amusing that thought was to me.

Carefully, I allow my hooves to carry me closer and closer. I wind through the trees, glass flints careful not to splash in the muck of the marsh that has dragged many bodies back into their depths. This is my home, and mere feeling has allowed me the ability to wander through here without so much as a worry as to how I might exit this forest. I seem to know my way around, and the low mists from the heat of Tallsun has begun to swirl around my hooves.

It does not take long for me to pull myself from the shadows and into the center of marsh, where this mare is located. "Circuta." I say, my voice twirling around through the marsh air as my frame becomes visible in the small rays of light. And then, my eyes lock onto her frame. Injuries seem to be scattered across her frame. Hair singed in patches and burns upon her flesh. "Was this a training battle? Or a skirmish that the Asylum needs to take revenge for?" I question, a bit of anger flitting through my voice at the thought of someone attacking one of members who was under my care.

Quieltly, I forced my temper to fall back down - the only emotion I had ever felt - and then I looked back to the mare, "You need a healer. And you will receive one soon. Reizend will tend to those burns as soon as this conversation is done. Why do you seek our presence, frauline?" I say, looking up at the much taller mare as I held my frame.

If this was not from a training spar, there would be hell to pay...

357 words
Sorry it sucks :| speed posting
SEELE
Credits
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Glory and Gore go Hand in Hand
That's Why We're Making Headlines
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Circuta Posts: 100
Hidden Account
Mare :: Unicorn :: 16.3 :: 7 Buff: NOVICE
Rhawon :: Siberian Tiger :: None aeolle
#3

She doesn't have to wait long. The black, bloodied stain bodice and clown-painted face of one of her queen's emerges into her sight.
Glass hooves and all, she recognizes the slightly shorter frame as the Jester one, though the Vermilion Queen has not yet entered the
circle of her thoughts. The shade assumes she will see the blood and ice woman soon, though she feels not that it is
proper to ignore her current queen whilst she awaits the other's presence as well. A slight downwards angle of her crown in a note of greeting and respect,
she listens to what the queen sings.
The greeting begins with her name, and then as the Jester takes note of her injuries a small murmur of anger
trickles as water through her vocals. A little smile flits across her maw, it is strange, strange
and confusing for her to be in the midst of a family that seems to care. In their own, insane, odd rituals,
they seem to care. It's something she has never known, not once in her life, and she grips the notion with an almost fearful bite. She doesn't want to lose this,
this care, and maybe she allows her orbs to soften. A bit, just maybe.
Then the shields return.

The queen promises her healing soon, by the name of Reizend. A question, a curious beckoning for her
reasons to extend her lyrics in search of the jester and the vermilion queens.
It is then that the shade speaks, her voice quieter now, though the lyrics are still
placed with elegance.
"My queen, A mere training battle. Do not fret."
Her words echo against the gnarled dryads, a hum.
"I wish to further the Asylum's branches, Jester queen. I wish for a duty, a purpose,
to extend my abilities for our family."

She wants a job, a contract, so that she does not laze her bodice in the
depth's of the forest. She wants to aid the people, to do good, to be one of them.
She wants to gather a name for herself, to be worthy of entering this
family.
To prove herself. She hopes the Jester queen will understand her riddles, even as her lyrics fade into the darkness.


Seele the Necromancer Posts: 210
Deceased atk: 5.5 |
Mare :: Unicorn :: 14.2 hh :: five (ages orangemoon) Buff: NOVICE
Abba
#4
I shift my weight and I flick my tail. It is simple motions, but I have been feeling better as of late. The golden feather is still woven tightly in its braid that is shared by the broken glass heart. My yellow orbs lock on her as I take in her injured form. The battered one speaks, her voice in sweet lyrical chords as they reach my audits. Again, with the ‘Queen’ commentary. It’s a form of affection, be happy. Innerste’s voice had slid into my skull as she alerted me her injuries were only from a training battle.

My tense muscles loosened, each of my frame’s limbs relaxing as I stood there, still as regal as before. ”Good. Good. Training is perfekt,” I say as my voice weaves through the trees and wraps around the branches and terrain. And the mare spoke out again, asking for a purpose, asking for a way to serve the Asylum. A smile graces my lips as I ponder over options. No one to be spied on at this moment in time. But, perhaps we could use some new areas to practice upon. Different terrains, different conditions, different everything. Yes. That would be lovely. ”Of course, mein kleine. You can gather a purpose,” I began, shifting my feet as I glanced toward her. ”You can go and search for new places to train. Different terrains and conditions from what we have in the marsh. Three locations should be enough to start with, but if you can find more that is always helpful” A tiny pause, and then I shift my weight a little, ”Take one of the warriors with you, whoever you feel most comfortable with. Need to ensure that you are safe at all times. And, report back as soon as you can,”

Perhaps we can gain a bit more knowledge at this moment. Perhaps we can start a better training regiment. This, mein puppe, would be wonderful.

325 words
sorry it sucks so badly |:
SEELE
Credits
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Glory and Gore go Hand in Hand
That's Why We're Making Headlines
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Nicodemus Posts: N/A
Unregistered
:: :: ::
#5

This marsh has covered me in a filth that cannot be describable. Something sickly, with death in every particle. The stench is beyond belief and I somewhat feel at home here. Trailing through the rough patches and finding myself lost. It is not homely but certainly something I can grow accustom too, and I have for a matter of fact. Spending the better half of my solitude since I've arrived in this swampy place. I haven't seen life in quite some time although tonight the air is bitter sweet with that of something familiar. A mare. No wait, more than one. Tonight I have company.

So I trail off, forward in motion, slow with hair sludging in the water behind me. The sounds are that of rippling water but with little volume. I creep in behind a few trees. Listening closely to their conversation. At first I have no clue what is being discussed, then a word enters my triangular radars... one I remember very well. Upon being interrupted by a mare and stallion of this Asylum this mare of blood brown and white. Though I am somewhat slightly amused by the ongoing conversation. The reason? There isn't one. But I continue to stand here. Waiting for some sort of acknowledgement, perhaps to surprise them. Who knows.

[ooc- I originally had him planned to be in the Asylum but my Threshold thread died. So you can just jump at him as you please lol.]

Nicodemus

what its like



Circuta Posts: 100
Hidden Account
Mare :: Unicorn :: 16.3 :: 7 Buff: NOVICE
Rhawon :: Siberian Tiger :: None aeolle
#6
The Seeker allows the faintest of smiles when her Queen relaxes, loosens, once tensed muscles meld into that of water, liquid, a affection moves within her core. She is her sister, not in blood, but she is as her kin, and she feels partial towards the Jester. A marvelous Queen, bathed in wine and shadow, sunlight and alabaster. What commoner would not flock to lay at her hooves? Regal, the Seeker does not notice their differences in size, does not notice the dip in magnitude, for to the Seeker, her Queen is as tall as the snowy mountains that reach frozen claws into the depths of the cerulean ocean above. Though the Seeker's frame is battered, burns with the slightest caress of the wind, she finds that she is exultant in the greatness of her Goddess.
As her query flows through the veins of the air, not so unlike that of the river's that slice and cut through Gaea's back, a smile is graced upon her Queen's maw. A comfortable silence as she awaits her response, and when it comes, she is granted a purpose within the ranks of her people.

Her Queen tells her to find new landscapes, to breathe life into existence. Landscapes with which her people may gather upon to train, learn, battle and teach. Of course, her people, her family, would need to absorb knowledge of new locations, to better understand what may come of them in warfare. To learn how to defend, to retaliate, to conquest, triumph and pillage whom would dare come against them in war, to bring forth ranks, to be known as the Asylum: The fearless, the bold, their name would be a blessing to that which blessed them, and a curse to those whom cursed them. They would be feared, strike trepidation into the very souls of their opponents, and bring reprieve and assurance to those whom were deemed allies.
Three locations, her Queen said, these would be more then enough. She mentions that if she may find more, she would not deny it to her, that it would aid her homeland, and so she will. A pause, the Jester's weight shifts, and when she speaks next, excitement and dread boil within her stomach, clash and wage war against one another, her mind is brought to her Lord, her brother in arms, her shield and sword, the adorned warrior of snow and the ocean and sleet, Arlo. Her allgemeine.
But oh, divines, what is to become of them both?

Her Queen finishes by commanding her to return, to report back, to give her that of a account of what has occurred after she is finished with her task.
A dip of the dome and neck in a graceful arch, despite the anguish the action brings her. The burnt and bloodied skin screams it's distaste at her movements, yet she does not
screech her pain to the heavens, she is resolute, silent, she makes due with the ache. She will bow before her Queen, serve her, no matter the cost upon her own frame, her own mind. Loyalty runs deep within her veins to her royalty as that of a raging river, vanquishes all except the need to prove herself to the Jester.
She raises her dome once more, lyrics whisper into the wind as gentle as birdsong.
"Consider it done, my Queen."

Harks swivel, perk, at the noise of rippling waters, though muffled it is. In the Land of the Phantoms, it is unwise to pass the noises of the unknown off as the sounds of nature, for the ghouls who rest beneath the milky surface of the swamp await the slightest mistake from a fool, to yank into it's depths and swallow whole, to bring another soul into the watery grave of the underworld. Her frame turns, her gaze seeks out that of a ghast, and finds none to be seen.
In the dancing mists she finds a sliver of a black tail before it disappears behind the coverage of nearby, gnarled trees, and she moves yet closer, careful to avoid the death that hides within the waters.
What she finds when she observes the frame through the gnarled branches is not the paranormal, not one of her people, not a familiar face. It is a scent of a brute, she catches the slightest hints of a charred black coat and glint of skies before the figure is concealed once more, and she moves herself in front of her Queen. As quick as a fox, her features have turned from warm affection into cold, harsh anger, ivories bared, harks pressed flat into the dark tendrils of mane at the base of her dome, whilst her dome itself was lowered in a threatening fashion. Her crown was still stained red at the tips with the blood of Merikh, and the aura that radiates off from her bones promises death and torment, disease to those who would attempt to harm the Jester. The Seeker's tail is swishing, her indigo's narrowed to slits, she hisses in the direction of the trespasser into their land.
"Trespasser! Your blood's scent marks you as much as a outsider as much as the sun above shines it's light down upon the Earth. Show yourself, and bow to the Jester Queen, show yourself to the Queen of the Asylum!"
She does not add, lest I skin your frame and use you as a rug, but it is foretold in the tones she uses. She would cook his organs for breakfast if he even dared to insult her Mistress.


Circuta</style>
who's the killer in the crowd -</style>
Credits
AHMEDBAKIR : VENOMXBABY : GALAXIESANDDUST : SALSOLASTOCK</style>

Cause she's a Cruel Mistress
And a bargain must be made

Seele the Necromancer Posts: 210
Deceased atk: 5.5 |
Mare :: Unicorn :: 14.2 hh :: five (ages orangemoon) Buff: NOVICE
Abba
#7
She listened, and I was glad - or at least I was of the utmost certainty that I would have been glad had I the ability to truly feel such useless emotions. It was one thing that I felt raised me above the rest, and I was definitely certain that I was the correct one to have been rid of such horrid pulls in nature. She said I should consider it done, and with one nod I lay the subject to rest. I knew she would do as she was told - I knew that we would gather intelligence from her soon enough.

But the meeting was not a quiet one. No, apparently someone else had stumbled into the lair of horrors and death that was our home. The injured seeker placed herself before me, as if the one with the burns would be more capable of standing up against a threat. I hold back a laugh as it bubbles in my throat, tilting my cranium to the side as I listen to the venom that spills from her maw. It is then, when she continues to call me Queen that I cannot help but to allow the tendrils of laughter to reach up toward the sky and flirt around the tree line.

"Sir," I say, allowing the words to drip from my mouth, "What has brought you to the depths of insanity and death?" My nostrils flare as I feel a gentle tug from his soul. Yes, it would be ripe for the snatching should he pose a threat at the seeker who still needed medical attention. No one would touch the family I had helped create - I did not care what was standing in the way...

And not all are enemies, mein kleine, Innerste reminds ever so chidingly in my head. And I must admit, such is truth...

317 words
omg it sucks, i'm so sorry, but i needed to get it up.
sorry for the wait, been fighting with muse and time
SEELE
Credits
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Glory and Gore go Hand in Hand
That's Why We're Making Headlines
●☽ ☾●


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