the Rift


[OPEN] a lioness's fury.

Destry Posts: 95
Hidden Account atk: 5.0 | def: 8 | dam: 5.5
Mare :: Hybrid :: 16 hh :: 4 years HP: 63.0 | Buff: NOVICE
Yseult :: Royal Zephyr :: Roc & Wakiya Dark
#1


I walk slowly, my head hung low. It has been a year since I was born, four seasons have passed since my birth, and I was alone on my birthday. Mother had been banned from the Basin, and Father had abandoned me when he fled from his imprisonment. They were probably off somewhere else, not even bothering to think of me, their helpless daughter, trapped in a lonely, chilling world. I wonder if I even crossed their mind these days, or they were too careless and did not think of their firstborn. I felt abandoned, lost and alone. There were still others around me sure, but there were no others with wings. At least, not in this place. I was alone, left to rot in the chilling tundra.

I shiver, despite the warm light. The sunlight hitting the snow was near blinding, and caused my to squint my ruby eyes. I leave my wings tucked beside me, shimmering constellations dancing on the feathers. I was worked up, furious in fact. My parents abandoned me. Left me to the pile of savage monsters that reside here, that think those with horns are superior to those without. And so today, when I turned one, I let out my rage. Standing alone in a corner of the Basin, I let out all the fury I had been housing.

I let out a scream that bounded off the walls and corners of the Basin, echoing for several seconds. Deep inside something stirs, something in my gut wakes, breaking through the surface. My body glows for a moment before a large sizzling, cracking noise hits my ears. A flash of red and there was suddenly a fire burning before me, turning a dried bush into a raging little fire. I gasp, my brain jogging up a distant memory. I had almost forgotten I held a gift of lightning. Bloody red lightning that burns. With a smile on my lips, I watched the bush burn slowly... satisfied by the warmth. Shaking snow flakes from my thick, waving mane, I almost light my hair ablaze, standing too close to the flames. I let out a brief yelp, releasing my wings from their held position. I step back and flap my appendages desperately, blowing the fire into oblivion. I kick some snow onto the fading embers, making sure the fire was disposed of.

"These soldiers are not here to kill you; They're here to protect you."
ooc: for @[Lothíriel]
word count: 397

Picture by lieveheersbeestje

we all look for heaven and we put our love first
somethin' that we'd die for, it's our curse

Illynx the GildedBlade Posts: 413
Hidden Account atk: 7.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 3
Mare :: Unicorn :: 16hh :: 13 HP: 67.5 | Buff: ENDURE
Kyst :: Common Griffon :: Zapping Jab Bunnie
#2
Few were the commands given to her by Psyche in all her years among the Plague, and fewer still those that had passed the lips of the Frostheart before he had faded away, leaving Illynx (not that she complained, mind you) with her flashy new title and an imaginary crown nestled about her dark rimmed ears. Lady or not, however, his command still clung to her thoughts, ever loyal to the superior that she had never truly loved or even admired for much more than the power he held; Mauja had been only a symbol of the life she now lived, and while she could not recall his face no matter how she pressed her brain, she remembered very clearly the night he had come to her with a task that, in retrospect, had filled her with a robust pride to be so trusted.

And so she kept her word to the Lord who no longer reigned on the mountain, her gilded orbs watching the ebony and crimson figure of her foster child from a distance, as she always did since her father had managed his escape during the failed invasion of the Edge. Mauja had not told her that she must converse with the winged brat, only hold her within the boundaries of the snow clad peaks, and so she had silently observed Destry for the many months since she had been assigned the task, at first only once or twice a week (Azzaron was still available to baby-sit his daughter, then) but now almost daily since her father's successful escape. Her keeping evenly shared with Ulrik and the numerous patrols, one would have expected the child to have had some interaction with the horned company of the Basin, but each time Illynx found the winged darling in her sights, she was alone.

Despite the way her feathered appendages made her gut crawl, the woman with the yellow lock felt pity simmering beneath the disgust, self loathing enveloping the emotion. She too had been alone, once, no choice of her own, as it was with Destry; the only differences between herself and the child were, for one, that Illynx was of superior breeding, but also that the pegasus' family was alive and well outside the borders, while her own were but dust blended into the rich soil of the World's Edge.

Boredly watching her patron skirt through the emptiness of the valley, she could not help but notice that with each passing day, the red tipped wings of the girl drooped lower to the snow encrusted earth, her eyes gleamed less brightly. One could not expect a child to understand how fortunate her circumstance truly was; she should smile, run freely with a grin about her face, to know that her treacherous mother and mutant father had been allowed to keep their breath, that they still lived and could be found. Illynx despised her misery anyway. Truly, the half breed was condemned by the GildedBlade for simply being born, and the thought of why the ugly little wretch was so unhappy was much further away than the still distant idea of thinking about her feelings as more than a nuisance.

The mare had begun to turn and leave the whelp to her own devices when, suddenly, it seemed as if the little pegasus had simply gone mad. A shrill scream split the silence of the Basin, drawing Illynx's head upright in a sudden flurry of motion, her eyes widening at the sound as her features swiveled around to stare with surprise in the direction of the prisoner. When the bush burst into flames alongside the child from a bolt of red hot light that had seemed to erupt from all across her flesh, the last few gears that had been initiated into motion within the golden laced warrior's brain as the child had screamed out to the sky clicked into place, sending her golden tinted legs flowing with elegance one after the other, her bay bodice cat like as it closed the distance between Destry and herself.

Any plans Mauja had for her vanished with him, she consoled herself as she ventured nearer, I am now queen. She is mine to do with as I please. Still, she couldn't help but wonder why it was that she bothered to try and console the child, if that was even why she was approaching her in the first place; rodents deserved to wallow in misery. "Oh, Destry," she called out as the filly stifled the flames and buried the coals in snow, her voice sweet and feminine, a candy coating over the putrid carnage of her soul, "do you really hate the mountain so that you would burn it down?" Stilling her momentum about four feet from the foal, she looked with gleaming eyes to see if the child recognized the shadow that had followed her since the day her father had finally escaped his snow clad prison.

[ OOC: Hopefully Krazie doesn't mind me going ahead and posting. :| I had ze muse and I figured I'd use it. If she'd rather post first, I can take it down and modify for Loth. <3

Also, I'm not sure if Neo ever messaged anyone with the details about what happened OOCly involving Delinne leaving the Basin as Neo poofed like three days later and there was a lot of other chaos going on outside of RPing. xD But Illynx has been quietly stalking Destry since then (GUARDIAN STYLE WOOT WOOT) and Ulrik should also have been keeping an eye out for her, under Mauja's orders. :P ]






There was a river once,
with many round stones
enchanted by shallow hopes
of embracing the ocean;
water is peculiar this way,
how its life is a line
that cannot bend or change
without the approval of its bed.

Magic/assault allowed to be used on Illynx at any time, in so far as it does not kill or seriously maim her without my permission. 

Lothíriel Posts: 37
Hidden Account atk: 5.5 | def: 9.5 | dam: 5
Mare :: Unicorn :: 16.2 hands :: 4 years of age HP: 64 | Buff: NOVICE
Thingol :: Raven :: None krazie
#3
[I don't mind at all! :D]


A scream echoed through the valley.

Young and lank, the narrow creature perched on stilted long legs paused from her previous romp, lengthy ears flicking back and forth with caution. This noise was foreign in the manner it rattled chaotically against her delicate ears, the high keening sound digging beneath her new skin and making it roil with discomfort and disquiet, caused the soft lobes to press against her neck in distaste in an attempt to quiet the buffeting caucophany. Stop!, she wanted so badly to cry, tossing the delicate head lamely in a sort of affirmation, but before the flower-wreathed child could act, the rancor ended, leaving her trembling with the newness and uncertainty. She contemplating finding Mama, but a brave fraction of her, temptress already, pushed her forward toward its origin, reckless with curiosity; Lothíriel was a foolhardy girl.

With little more than a breath and an ounce of discretion, uneasiness settling along the back of her throat like a bad cough, the baby began a lope toward the origin of the offending sound, slight cloven hooves thrumming against the loam. It took little exertion in order for the lilac eyes to find the flame, terrible red against green, hellishly hot against the coolness of her alpine home. A part of her twitched with instinctive fear, told her to run, but as the scream had died down to wind, so did the flame, buffeted into nonexistence. From beneath ridiculously long eyelashes, the fawn glanced upward, curious to know what force would have extinguished the blight so easily.

Eyes narrowed with mistrust.

It too bore magic, she noted with awe, but it also had bird wings, cumbersome appendages that rose from its shoulders, red-stained like the flame they had quenched. It was a thing of lore, something that existed solely (or she had thought) in her dam's tales; Huyana had told them to accept these strange creatures, to love them for their differences, for the very things that distinguished them; but she felt no stir of kinship, no craving for friendship, only boundless curiosity and perhaps a tad of youthful bravado. Lothíriel paused abruptly, hind hooves digging beneath the dirt. She tucked her chin against her chest, brandishing the bump of a horn she donned, barely peeking out through a whorl of hair. It was a laughable sight compared to the yearling's much more developed weapon, shining deadly purple in the waning light of the scarlet flames.

Close to the strange thing was a golden-marked mare, a gilded horn rising from her proud brow. Beautiful in her familiarity compared to the wicked abnormality of the younger, the skinny-legged girl was drawn to her, pausing several meters away from the duo as prismatic eyes took them in, unabashedly wide. It was more the hybrid Lothíriel watched, guts wringing with unfamiliarity and uncertainty, wondering how such an odd looking creature had come to be; were crow's wings sewn onto her shoulders at birth? Could she fly as the birds could, gracile and agile and effortless, or were they simply mutations, useless limp appendages which did nothing more than mar her appearance. She looked to the golden mare with confusion swimming in her big baby eyes, as boundless and blameless as they were judiciary.

"What're those?"; words carelessly blurted out, tumbling from clumsy lips like a finger pointed, cherub voice roused with an eternity of ancestral hate; this was not natural, she decided on a whim, thinking to Mama and Papa and all those dead which preceded her, none of whom bore wings. Head tilted, all naivety and innocence, and she took two reluctant steps, awkward on endlessly long limbs. "What're you?"

credits

Destry Posts: 95
Hidden Account atk: 5.0 | def: 8 | dam: 5.5
Mare :: Hybrid :: 16 hh :: 4 years HP: 63.0 | Buff: NOVICE
Yseult :: Royal Zephyr :: Roc & Wakiya Dark
#4



My scream attracted the Lady, should I feel so inclined. She presents me with her attention, her eyes scanning over me. I have been aware of her presence all through the time I've been in the Basin, at least, since Father left that is. She had turned into a constant presence, a mother hovering over her child's shoulder at every point in time. Turning to the gold marked mare, I flick my ears back. "I feel honored, the Lady GildedBlade herself has gifted me with her presence." I sneer, turning my sweet innocence into a sour storm of bitterness. I let my auds flatten against my cranium, my nostrils flaring in frustration.

"And should I feel honored that you know my name too?" I snort, opening my lips again to respond to her next words. "Maybe it deserves to burn." It's housing so many monsters inside, I wonder why it hasn't brought itself down by now. This valley might as well blow itself into a chaotic era of anarchy and destruction soon enough.

I stand glaring at the bay woman with golden accents, my brows narrowed. A small girl comes stumbling forward, her steps followed by waves of frosted flowers as they creep along behind her, inching into her hair. The little child with the long white hair woven with flowers approaches me, stepping closer. Her sweet pink and purple eyes are glued to me, the violet pools dancing over my body curiously. She asks what my wings are, and I stretch them, showing all the gleaming red feathers lining the appendages. "These are my wings. They let me fly." I smile, gazing at the long legged babe. My smile fades when she asks what I am. How am I to respond? A half breed? That is what I am... a pathetic half breed. "I myself do not know... I am not of pure blood. I have both pegasus and unicorn lineage... crowned and feathered.." I mutter, looking at the child. Would she understand me and my nonsense talk?

"These soldiers are not here to kill you; They're here to protect you."
ooc: -
word count: 339


Picture by lieveheersbeestje

we all look for heaven and we put our love first
somethin' that we'd die for, it's our curse

Illynx the GildedBlade Posts: 413
Hidden Account atk: 7.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 3
Mare :: Unicorn :: 16hh :: 13 HP: 67.5 | Buff: ENDURE
Kyst :: Common Griffon :: Zapping Jab Bunnie
#5
That she had approached to offer comfort to the winged beast was immediately forgotten when her sharp words struck the Lady's ears, a scowl embracing her features and her own ears pinning to her crown to match the aggravated position of Destry's. Her tail strikes viciously at her flanks with a crack in her irritation at the smart mouth of the girl, irate at her lack of respect or appreciation for the protection that Illynx had offered her over the seasons she had been without her family. Was she really such a fool as to think that she had remained unscathed by chance? The golden mare's memories flicker to the meetings of the Plague, the myriad faces of their wicked coven that resided upon the mountain; how many of them would have already spilled the child's blood across the frozen ground had herself and Ulrik not guarded her from their ill intents? White teeth gleam from blackened lips as her head snakes towards the snotty girl, disdain for the babe's actions written into every inch of the warrior's sinew and face as her voice growled forth in response to the foolish half-breed. "Still your tongue, foolish girl," poisonously snapped the bitch, "or I'll rip it from your mouth. It could not waggle so if I hadn't insured your safety." Proudly her head rose, irritation still plastered across her form as she glared down at Destry, shifting her position so as to press into the invisible bubble of space and imposing her superior height and build upon the still growing unipeg. Her point would be made here and now, as concise as she could possibly make it. "I will forgive your impudence this once, but do not think I will keep the wolves off your scent any longer if you cannot appreciate what I have done for you. Hate the mountain if you must, but I am your savior."

The scent of flowers draws her hateful gaze from the thankless brat, her eyes falling upon perhaps the most beautiful child she had ever seen in her life. Flowers sprang from her silvery locks and lilted to the earth in her wake, her brow adorned with an ivory horn rising from her charcoal smeared face. The sight immediately softened her mood, her intrigue in the babe lifting her ears from their flattened state and drawing her creased brows back into a more relaxed position. Even more lovely than the girl's appearance, however, was the fact that she wore a face of innocent distaste as she observed the hybrid; the grim line of Illynx's mouth bloomed into a smile as the child turned her broad eyes towards her own, the blame cast upon Destry in the inquiry most delightful to the golden backed mare's ears.

She had no time to answer, as the hybrid's mood seemed to have changed with her own as the child had approached. Oblivious to the fact that the question had not been asked of her, the red tinged filly responded with a gleaming grin and a pride that sickened the bigoted woman, the flexing of her wings adding to the ash and flower scented air the smell of feathers; her nostrils wrinkled compulsively to seal out the stench until it faded away under the delightful odor of the flower-child, a snort erupting from her as the child described herself as "crowned" - if she wore a crown, Illynx was a turkey. "Destry is a hybrid," more definitively answered the Lady, her eyes smiling upon the silver foal and her lips a cruel sneer, "the daughter of a traitor and a foolish man, making her worth less than the dirt upon which we tred." Her gaze slipped to the half-breed, a haughty and unkind mask worn to mock her for being so short tempered before the Reaper's daughter had arrived. Maintaining her personal opinions of the other breeds to herself had never been her forte, and so scalded was her ego by the sharp words of the child that she was willing to risk exposing herself as what she was to dig knives into the girl's heart, to render her spirit broken and weak.







There was a river once,
with many round stones
enchanted by shallow hopes
of embracing the ocean;
water is peculiar this way,
how its life is a line
that cannot bend or change
without the approval of its bed.

Magic/assault allowed to be used on Illynx at any time, in so far as it does not kill or seriously maim her without my permission. 


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