the Rift


[OPEN] Public Outreach [Delivery]

Kahlua the Sunshower Posts: 662
Outcast atk: 5.5 | def: 9.5 | dam: 4.5
Mare :: Equine :: 15.3hh :: 9 [Orangemoon] HP: 65 | Buff: NOVICE
Khan :: Common Blue Dragon :: Frost Breath Sevin
#1
Excerpt from creation thread:
Her body ached for reprieve, but the mare was determined to finish before the sunset. She was admittedly less than excited to make a gift for the monsters whom had so cruelly invaded her home, but creating the creature was a compulsion she could not deny. Perhaps some of her own feelings had clouded her judgment, but for the Basin she had a special animal. A scorpion. While the other three creations had been made of glass as clear as the stillest pond, the fogs seemed to take almost a mind of their own as they mixed and mingled with some of the blue stones that Kahlua had found on her travels. The end result was a creature that almost seemed black in the darkening sky, blue stone eyes matching the color of the rest of the sculpture.
Inspiration


The girl's basket seemed to grow in weight as she moved through the icy land. The closer she got to her group's supposed destination, the more her heart seemed to beat with fear. These unicorns had attacked their home, one of them had attacked her. Was she really coming here? Was she really walking right into the door of death? Taking a few deep breaths, Kahlua unsuccessfully tried to steady her nerves. But what her own strengths failed to do, the strengths of others could certainly accomplish. Looking back, she found the trio of horses that were helping her in this suicide mission. And while she could not talk to them with the basket in her mouth, she was glad to have them here anyway. She likely would have turned tail and run the other way already, if she was by herself. They gave her strength when she had none of her own.

With every step that she took further into the snowy wasteland, Kahlua's disbelief seemed to grow. Though she trusted Aaron's directions to be true and lead her to the place she was compelled to be, she was in awe that anyone would choose to live in such a depressing location. Even with the unbearably strong heat that was warming the Edge all summer, the land was still cold and frosted. The girl could hardly wrap her head around it. Not surprising for her, of course. Perhaps there was some metaphor between the icy cold of their homeland and the icy cold of their cruel, warrior hearts. If there was, Kahlua did not see it. She was no scholar, simply a child in a mare's body.

And then finally, she stopped. A funnel-like narrowing between the mountains seemed to lead away into the land was before her. This was the place, though she did not enter it. Despite many of her other childish qualities, she was respectful of borders. This was where Aaron had said they were going. She shuddered again as she lowered her basket to the ground, the blue scorpion sculpture sitting within it. At the peak of it's curled tail, the thing would have just touched Kahlua's belly. Whinnying out, Kahlua winced as her voice echoed through the mountainous chain. Would it wake every unicorn within the wasted walls? She hoped not. “WE.... w- we are...” The girl tried to speak, but she found her voice would not come. Fear was shaking her heart and she backed up, hoping to be nearer to her friends and guard. We are here in peace, we are here to deliver a gift, we are wishing to speak to your leaders. Any of them would have worked, but the girl could not make the words come. So instead she looked from Aaron to Quilyan to Destrier, hoping one of them would find words where she could not.


OOC| @[Aaron], @[Destrier] and @[Quilyan] first unless they note otherwise. Preferably for the Basin leaders, but others that have a reason to be here are welcome as well.


Permission granted to use magic or physical force with Kahlua at any time
for any reason to any degree, with the exception of killing her.

Please do not tag Kahlua unless it is in an opening post

Aaron Posts: 260
World's Edge Protector atk: 4.5 | def: 8.5 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Equine :: 15.3 hh :: 6 Years HP: 67 | Buff: NOVICE
Alanna :: Common Hellhound :: Energy Drain Emily
#2


Aaron</style>
World's Edge Glazier
</style>


Why he had agreed to come here was beyond the stud. To walk straight to the Basin, the herd who had so carefully tried to attack not only them but the Throat as well. They must of lost thier minds. Why he guided them there was an even better question. Well, at least it was a well meaning trip. Kahlua had a gift for the Basin, while it was not huge, it was still a good size. He felt bad that the girl was carrying it herself. At his side Alanna jumping in and out the snow. She was growing fast, and Aaron was grateful she could kind of talk to him. If you could count baby like speach as talking. However her magic.... Wow. The stud had seen her use her energy drain on a rabbit not to long ago. She used it almost flawlessly.

We there? The question was soft and pointed only in his mind. Amber brown eyes took in thier surroundings. Yes. Stay close and do exactly as I say. Her blue eyes looked at her bonded questioningly, but she did as she was told. Kahlua was trying to call out to those inside the Basin, while Aaron decided to remain silent. That is until he picked up on the fear in the fellow painted equine's voice. Without a word he moved forward to stand at her side, Alanna at his heels. She planted herself between the two equines, ready to protect them if need be. His eyes however focused on the funnel that lead into the heart of the Basin. He had only gone inside twice, and he did not care to go inside again unless he had to.


"Sed interdum rutrum urna, sed pellentesque sapien tempor in."




background pattern by Patrick Hoesly @ flickr.com

In Nomine Patris Et Filii
Et Spiritus Sancti

Please Tag Aaron in All Posts
Permission granted to use magic or physical force with Aaron at any time for any reason to any degree, with the exception of killing him.


Destrier Posts: 180
Outcast atk: 5 | def: 7.5 | dam: 7.5
Stallion :: Equine :: 16.3hh :: 16 HP: 65.5 | Buff: ENDURE
Suli :: Common Green Dragon :: Fire Breath & Merlin :: Plain Black Dragon :: Frost Breath Dingo
#3

we are like birds of a feather
we are two hearts joined together
we will be forever as one
my brother under the sun </style>



The journey from our beloved World's Edge to the frigid Basin was one I had not known until now, and I was in disbelief at finding out just how far into the north it lie. With my coat still slick and short from the heat of Tallsun, it was difficult to fend off the tundra winds as they blasted relentlessly against us from all sides possible. Even Suli had taken refuge in the thick of my mane, reminding me fondly of her youth, as she had found flight nearly impossible in these horrendous conditions. As we walked further and further north, I idly wondered just how warm she really was; with a fire brewing in her belly, it couldn't be too bad, could it?

As we continued through the snow and battled the merciless weather, the cold chilling me right through the bone, I was reminded of old injuries that had since mended themselves to the best of their abilities. Every now and then, my left front hock would creak and pop, warranting a grimace to mar my face whenever it was too bad. The old burn on my right shoulder, despite Smoke's efforts to help soothe and heal it, was more or less numb to the entire ordeal of this Tallsun winter. Overall, I could feel the cold taking it's toll on my battle-worn body, but no matter how good it sounded to turn back around and return to the warmth of the Edge, I pressed on. We were on a mission, and I would not leave until it was finished, or until my final breath escaped me.

Far longer than I would have liked into our travels, a vast wall of mountains came into view, and as Aaron directed us towards them, I wondered if they could be the borders of the Basin. It seemed I was right as we drew closer, eventually scaling a narrow, slippery path that proved more than difficult to climb, and it wasn't until we had reached the top did we come to a stop. My breath was hot on the crisp air as I stood amongst my fellow Edgers, bister eyes sweeping across the sight of the Aurora Basin. With mountains surrounding it's entirety, I imagined it to be warmer down there to at least some degree, but I still could not fathom ever living in such an unforgiving environment. From what I could see, pines littered the landscape below, and in the distance I could see a mass of water, only it didn't appear to be frozen as it should have been. Were my old eyes playing tricks on me..?

Tearing my attention away from what was below us to those I had traveled with, I focused my attention first on Kahlua as she spoke. Her nerves had been gradually building ever since we had left, and now that we had arrived, I could tell that she was nearly at her wit's end. Before I could make a move to step closer and lend a comforting muzzle, however, Aaron had beaten me to it. Instead, I walked around behind the painted mare to take residency on her other side to both comfort and protect. A tight smile was cast to her in hopes it would do some good. "Don't fret," I offered in way of comfort, "All will be well." Just as quickly as it had graced my face, though the smile was gone as I focused my gaze back on the land below us. I prayed we had not made a fatal mistake by coming here, that I had not just lied to my compatriots that we would be alright, and that this was not where our bodies would fall. Not today, at least.

"The Edge has come here in peace," came my baritone voice, reverberating throughout the Basin, "We do not seek a fight. Merely, we have come to offer a gift, and then we will be off your doorstep."

"Speak."




image by blu | table code by tamme


You may attack and use magic on Des at any time for any reason.

HP: 66.5

Deimos the Reaper Posts: 527
Deceased atk: 7.0 | def: 12 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.1 :: 7 HP: 72.5 | Buff: NUMB
Heather
#4
The full arch of his loathing, of his contempt, of his abhorrence and animosity towards the scents wandering into his empire culminated in an acrimonious motion, heightened by hate, by malevolence, by immorality and iniquity. His movements mauled divinity, persecuted virtue, punctured paragons, mauled and maimed, seared and simmered until the depths of his callous, contorted, coiled wrath composed haunting, withering, decaying savagery. Unholy sedition, seething, finessed forbidding, argent domination, reticent maelstrom of simmering, antagonistic prose, roaming sepulchers and tombs, graves and gallows, imperious, annihilating. The only conviction he bore was mayhem, wild, fierce, and feral, rampantly clawing at his bestial precision, at his unforgiving reel of raptorial predilection, devouring, swallowing, consuming the traces of rectitude. Had Mirage severed their delicate treaty, laughed, mocked, and jeered at the strangled chords of his wish to acquire their prisoners, and sent her minions to chortle amongst their glacial walls? Did she practice hypocrisy again along the cliffs, the shoal and forest, weave lies and deceit into conventions and contracts, bind and caress it with the sumptuous declaration of mendacity and pretense? Was it a way to conspire a severing of the pact, to force him to brutalize her members, to rip and tear until their corpses called and heralded another invasion, massacre and devastation? Were they here to spy, to discover, to speculate and peer into the cold, chilling armaments, to bend and break down the caverns, the unforgiving hostility? Or had they arrived to die, to lay bleeding, bent, broken, by his heathen brushstrokes, by his wolfish depravity, by his nefarious necromancy? His mind reeled, rankled, incised, enraged, sculpted the opus of his barbarity, of his licentiousness, taut and strangled into the cool composition of unholy insurrection.

The Reaper’s appearance before the three individuals gathered at their borders promised elimination, obliteration, revolution by the dying strands of their final breaths – but their words, crossing into bellows and wavering trebles, confused and perplexed him. A gift? What had the Basin done to deserve presents? Was this an attempt at speciousness, posturing some Trojan scorpion to tear down their peaks, summits and pinnacles? Would it scald and sear children, blind them into the traces of darkness? What was the purpose of this strange anomaly? The Lord’s mind reeled, calculated, but the vicious slate, the Machiavellian armaments and savagery, couldn’t fathom the cause, the weight, the motive or justification for the glassy figurine. He stared at the seemingly icicle composition, the blatant sculpting of a remorseless animal, rendered for the Basin, for their poison, for their venom, for their power and distinction (and did it silently sneak into the corridors of their regrowth, the Edge proclaiming they were a mere exoskeleton, waiting to crush them beneath footfalls and daggers?). Only after a period of further merciless contemplation, did his piercing gaze land upon the beasts, formidable, dominating, death and demise, and opened his mouth to posture the inquiry of his deviousness. “Why?”


[edit: that awkward moment when you thought everyone else had posted. I can take it down and wait for Quilyan? D: I'm sorry.]
DEIMOS
delivered from the blast
last from a line of lasts
and now the kingdom comes crashing down undone
background pattern by webtreatsetc.deviantart.com
image credits

Quilyan Posts: 206
Deceased atk: 5.5 | def: 9.0 | dam: 4.5
Stallion :: Pegasus :: 16.2 hh :: 10 (ages in Orangemoon) HP: 62.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Zarina :: Pygmy Marmoset :: Quantum Leap ChaoticMelodies
#5

But when his heart was lifted up, and his mind hardened in pride...
Quilyan
...he was deposed from his kingly throne, and they took his glory from him.


He hovers high above, wing tips grazing low-lying clouds on occasion. If not for the golden patches spread across his bodice, he would blend right in, ivory on blue, high in the sky. He loves to fly. He loves the peace and quiet it brings. He loves the wind in his banner, the sun on his face, the feel of the thermals lifting him higher. And he so rarely gets to use his ability, tied as he is to Resplendence, who is afraid of his wings. Well, not entirely - she has discovered their use as a shield. Oh, yes, it is the closest he gets to her, when she is frightened and uses him as a living safety net. He cannot help but wonder if he will ever simply be able to be close to her, as normal couples are close.

Zarina chirps and shifts from her position on his withers. It would seem they are approaching the border. Quilyan does not cross the invisible line, even in the air, but he remains above nonetheless, watching. Waiting. He does not know if they are being wise, in coming here. He does not know if they will leave unscathed. He does know that should he return home injured, Resplendence would scold him for a carelessness - at least until she saw who it was he accompanied. After all, Kahlua had grown quite close to Resplendence in the weeks since the invasion, and Quilyan had agreed to accompany her on this mission in order to get to know his beloved's friend better. He has not had the chance, not with Aaron and Destrier along.

Movement catches his eye, and he circles tightly, losing altitude until he lands with a soft thump next to his brethren. The dark, ominous steed standing before them utters one word: "Why?" The deposed price is perplexed by the question - are the unicorns of the north truly so hateful that they will not even see the innocence of a simple gift? He stares at the brute for a moment longer, and then offers an answer. "Does one need a reason to impart a gift upon one's neighbors, good sir?" Zarina snorts silently, and he chuckles with her, for 'good sir' is not the first term he would like to use on the unicorn.

[W/C | ---]
Walk walk walk.
Talk talk talk.
Think think think.

RayoDeSoleil.deviantart.com | Ness8Bit.deviantart.com

Please tag Quilyan in all replies.
Use of force and/or magic (with the exception of death) is allowed at all times.

Want to plot with Quilyan? Visit his plot page here!

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
#6
A masculine voice drifted across the open air of the valley, drawing the golden horned head of Illynx from her grazing alongside the still waters of the lake in between the entryway and it's southern shore. She spotted the figure circling through the pristine sky, his body a pure white traced with copper splashes, wings holding him afloat in the sky; her inner alarms sound, ears savagely meeting her poll as a visceral snort escapes her nostrils, mouth a line of hatred as she moves towards the gateway. It was not the pegasus that had spoken - the sound had not ushered down to her from the clouds, and this could only mean that he was not alone. The wench spots Deimos travelling towards the source of the disruption, apparently closer to the slender path than she had been, instantly increasing her pace from a long-limbed trot into a canter, her stream-lined frame arriving to the gathering of their foes clustered so arrogantly at their doorstep. She was hesitant to assume that they were here for merely peaceful purposes, but that they remained stationed outside the invisible wall that defined their borders held her rancor in check well enough to suit a conversation scant of screaming; an unusual occurrence for the hateful bitch, who's gut began to churn instantly at the sight of three equines framed by the splendor of their mountain.

Why? inquired her fellow leader, his own face a mask of revulsion and contempt for these fools at their doorstep. The sight of the crystalline basket at the hooves of the overo mare drew her interest quickly, the woman too preoccupied with the shining of the object itself and the black, glistening insect that lie within it to notice that she had met the Glazier before. That it was not the diamond hue of the basket was equally curious, it's form so deeply blue as to be black, a shade that reminded her of the indigo of the midnight sky; it pained her to see her Goddess of the night presented on such a hideous and detestable creature as a scorpion, but she also found it's lines to be flawless and smooth. Despite her disgust with their flawed faces, she looked with a mild admiration upon the one who had held the basket - the smile that bloomed upon her lips was quite unkind when she realized who it was that had brought them this trinket.

"We meet again, River Walker," she poisonously cooed as the pegasus's voice fell down in reply to Deimos, suddenly catching on as to the figure that had been presented to them; how very fitting indeed, to bring a creature seemingly small and insignificant, capable of killing a hundred foes with the venom in it's gleaming barb. The overo was without her former companion this time, the men she had chosen to accompany her obviously more adept at their field of protection than the daft man had been. She had warned him to run, hadn't she?

Her laughter came amused and unbidden before she even began to speak, the daftness of arriving the herd of the enemy with presents in teeth so fitting of the idiotic woman who had brought it to them. Stepping forward and giving a calming look to Deimos that promised explanations later, she lowered her gaze to more closely observe the gift which she had carried to the mountain, finding not a single flaw for which to mock the girl's ego with. "You are quite talented," she mused as she looked it over even as the compliment attempted to lodge itself in her throat, it's glinting eyes alluring to the woman who wore the same gems on all of her platinum trinkets, "I would not have expected such things from a girl who does not run when a wolf bites at her heels."

Suspiciously her gaze was lifted from her second look at the object, golden eyes narrowed as she looked upon the triage of equines for any sign of secondary purpose. "It is only a gift?" she inquired, returning her main focus to the maker of the thing as she mildly knew who she was in comparison to the other freaks huddled at their doorstep, even though she had not been the one to speak at first.
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. 

Ulrik the Engineer Posts: 235
Deceased atk: 5.5 | def: 9.0 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.1 hh :: 11 HP: 69.5 | Buff: ENDURE
Kirchoff :: Common Hellhound :: Superspeed Tamme
#7



Ulrik saw the figures on the horizon, at the narrow entrance of the land he now called his home. The stallion moved quickly forward, long, muscular limbs carrying him easily through the summer's grass with Kirchoff and his metal wolf quick at his heels. Illynx and Deimos had already arrived on the scene, so the black unicorn crept in, peering over Illynx's figure at what they had brought.

He furrowed his brows and moved to stand at her side, glancing at Deimos. Ulrik seemed equally as confused and wary. Three equines and a pegasus had brought a large, glass... scorpion. One of them had a dragon. The stallion's eyes narrowed instantly, his mind moving to darker, wilder places. He still feared and loathed dragons for what they did during the battle of the Edge. Ulrik curled his lips back from his teeth and Kirchoff let out a deep, menacing growl, his silver eyes also trained on the green creature.

The mechanical wolf stopped obediently and lifeless close to Kirchoff, whirring and clicking as the parts inside of his steel shell moved to keep it operational. Ulrik finally had to tear his gaze away from the green dragon to stare at the pinto, spotted, plain mare who had brought the gift along with her comrades. The stallion frowned. She would have been pretty if not for her bare head. Shame. Nature was cruel sometimes.

But, what was the point? Apparently it was a gift, but it did nothing. Would it just sit there? Were they supposed to use it? Ulrik frowned. "So, it does nothing ..." he trailed, raising a brow. The idea of a creation simply for aesthetics escaped Ulrik completely. Why were they bringing gifts anyway? Why from the Edge? Ulrik's ears tilted back. He wanted nothing to do with the World's Edge, absolutely nothing.

Should they give something in return? To get them to leave? He looked to Deimos and Illynx before pulling metal from the earth beneath his hooves. It was silver, a soft metal... rather useless actually. Still, he fashioned it into a small scorpion about the size of his hoof with tiny little boards and wires which quickly encased in an articulating shell. It began to move around between the hooves of the strangers, clicking and whirring in a much more high pitched way than the metal wolf.

There. A real gift. Something useful. Perhaps if they brought it back with them... Ulrik's lips curled into a smirk. Well, he could control it from the inside then, gather information. He remained silent, bronze eyes glittering madly.




BRINGING YOU ANOTHER DISTURBING CREATION
from the mind of one sick animal who can't tell the difference

Credits

Kahlua the Sunshower Posts: 662
Outcast atk: 5.5 | def: 9.5 | dam: 4.5
Mare :: Equine :: 15.3hh :: 9 [Orangemoon] HP: 65 | Buff: NOVICE
Khan :: Common Blue Dragon :: Frost Breath Sevin
#8
Obviously she did not hide her fear very well, based upon the fact that all three of the stallions that were with her immediately came to stand beside her. With Aaron and Alanna on one side and Destrier and Suli on the other, however, the girl felt safer. This feeling was increased by the soft thud of Quilayn's hooves, certainly with Zarina in tow, as he landed and then moved towards them. She was glad her brothers had so eagerly volunteered for this mission. Certainly she would never have been brave enough to come here on her own. Don't fret, Destrier offered, and Kahlua smiled in return, trying to touch her nose to his neck in the way of thanks. Breath, she reminded herself, though her lungs were chilled to the core by the icy winds and icy souls that inhabited this place.

As Destrier found the words that she could not Kahlua bobbed her head a few times in agreement, although only her herd mates were there to see. Of course, it did not take long for their numbers to increase. The mere presence of the midnight monster caused the girl to stiffen and freeze. His monstrous horn, tipped in blue, sent a shiver down her spine and she stepped closer to Aaron, trying to press her side against his own, desiring to feel the comfort of another's warmth. The girl could not understand the cold calculation in the Reaper's eyes as he stared down at her creation. All the imagined symbols that ran through the beasts mind had never touched the girls. She had been called to create the thing with no input for her own, addled mind. The images for each of the herds had come to her in her sleep. And, though it had not been divine intervention, the girl had felt it was and created the images as they came to her, no arguments, no questions, no thoughts of meaning until afterward.

Why? His voice sent shivers anew down her spine. Though she could not have named the feeling if asked, she felt the death that dripped from him in a way that made her fear for her life. His blue gaze, harsh the northern ice, made her avert her gaze to the ground even as a familiar face, name unknown, arrived before her. Quilyan's answer to the Reaper's question was better than any words she would have been able to form at this point, and so she was grateful for his intervention. Why hadn't she just sent the creature on with the warriors and stayed home? More and more, it seemed that would have been the better option.

Still, the girl was unable to ignore the way her gold-dipped attacker marveled at her creation and so, for the slimmest of instants, the girl felt her heart swell and a smile twitch at her lips. If nothing else, she was good at her trade and she was always glad when others noted it. Of course, it took nothing but the acrimonious words of Illynx to make Kahlua's smile fade away. River Walker. She shivered and the queen laughed. Fitting. Still, as Illynx crept forward, the painted girl found the strength to grab the statue in her teeth and pull it from the basket. Setting on the ground, closer to the three lords of the land, Kahlua quickly skittered back. “Just a gift,” she murmured as quietly as possible in affirmation of Illynx's question. Was it really so hard to accept such a thing? “Just an offering of continued peace,” she finished, but even as she said it she looked to her three guardians to make sure she was saying the right thing.

Yet, while she wished to drop her eyes, she could not. There was a third unicorn, one who had yet to speak, with a noisy contraption that would have intrigued the playful girl's heart if she was not still fearing death or worse. So, it does nothing.” She flickered her ears about her nervously as she raised her head to meet his gaze. “Wha- What would it d-?” Her nervous words stopped short as silver came up through the earth. The stallion's work? She watched with eager eyes, her nervousness fading as the time passed and the thing came to life. She stepped forth, amazed by the work. Never did it occur to her useless mind that the stallion was mocking her. Her nose lowered, trying to touch the thing as it passed, ears falling backwards for a moment at the whining but otherwise surprisingly trusting of the stallion's creation. Poor, simple girl. Looking back to the black and bronze beast, a smirk twitched at the corner of her lips. “For me? How does it know where to go?”


Permission granted to use magic or physical force with Kahlua at any time
for any reason to any degree, with the exception of killing her.

Please do not tag Kahlua unless it is in an opening post

Aaron Posts: 260
World's Edge Protector atk: 4.5 | def: 8.5 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Equine :: 15.3 hh :: 6 Years HP: 67 | Buff: NOVICE
Alanna :: Common Hellhound :: Energy Drain Emily
#9


Aaron & Alanna</style>

In Nomine Patris Et Filii Et Spiritus Sancti</style>



It seemed Aaron was not the only one who picked up on Kahlua's distress. Mere moments after he and Alanna had moved, Destrier and Suli joined them on the opposite side. Destrier also seemed to find the words that Kahlua had tried to and failed. It would not be long now. Surely the unicorns of the Basin would know not only by sound but by smell. Coming. The soft female voice in his head confirmed his thoughts. They came. First was a black unicorn that had once been a prisoner of the Edge. Lace had fought him to keep him there, and had nearly lost his life from what Aaron had heard. This one was not to be taken lightly. Kahlua stepped closer to him and he glanced at her in concern. Why was she so afraid? Granted surely they all had reason to be after all the attacks and murders the Basin had commited. But they came in peace, with a peace offering. "Why?" That was all the black unicorn spoke. Was it really that hard to understand? It seemed he was not alone in this as Quilyan spoke up. "Does one need a reason to impart a gift upon one's neighbors, good sir?" Aaron glanced the other paint steed's way, making sure that he to was alright. After all, the Basin unicorns could be up to something...

More came... A mare the color of wet wood with golden markings arrived and seemed to take charge at first. She looked to the one who had arrived first before speaking to Kahlua. Alanna tensed, feeling the tension Aaron was feeling. It seemed this mare was not the last to arrive, as another joined the gathering. This one had a companion and some strange creature in tow. Alanna's eyes narrowed on the other hellhound as he growled, growling back as if to say 'I dare you'. She was older by merely a few months maybe, but that could mean everything in the skills developed. When he asked what it did and then made a strange small creature pop up at thier hooves. "It is meant as a gift and a gift alone. As Kahlua said, an offering of continued peace. I'm sure both of our herds have seen enough bloodshed for a while." By no means did Aaron think this scorpion would keep the Basin from attacking.... He was even less trusting of the metal counterpart that now moved at thier hooves. He longed to step on it, but did not want to be rude in front of it's creator.


talktallk

Credits

In Nomine Patris Et Filii
Et Spiritus Sancti

Please Tag Aaron in All Posts
Permission granted to use magic or physical force with Aaron at any time for any reason to any degree, with the exception of killing him.


Destrier Posts: 180
Outcast atk: 5 | def: 7.5 | dam: 7.5
Stallion :: Equine :: 16.3hh :: 16 HP: 65.5 | Buff: ENDURE
Suli :: Common Green Dragon :: Fire Breath & Merlin :: Plain Black Dragon :: Frost Breath Dingo
#10

we are like birds of a feather
we are two hearts joined together
we will be forever as one
my brother under the sun </style>



Three beings came, none of which I could recall from the invasion of the Edge. A blood red figure with hateful blue eyes and far too many horns was what stuck in my mind the most, but he did not come. The first to arrive on the scene was a dark hued stallion whom immediately stole my focus; his steely gaze was unsettling, and had I been younger, I might have recoiled under their close scrutiny. Following the horned fellow's line of sight to the scorpion, I silently wondered just what sort of things were going through his mind. Even I wasn't certain our reason for extending a gift to these violent blokes after what they had done.

The next was a gold marked mare who seemed more interested in Kahlua than the rest of us, referring to her as 'River Walker', which warranted a cocked brow from me. Had they met before, perhaps in the throngs of battle that seemed to have happened so recently? Before I could catch what was said next between the two of them, a deep, rumbling growl emanating from Suli garnered my attention and had my head snapping to the side at the third unicorn to arrive.

The obsidian being stood taller than I, a menacing, knotted horn rising high above his forehead. At his side stood what appeared to be a wolf in my unknowing eyes, as well as a second similar beings, except this one was of metallic origin and made the strangest of noises. My ears cocked back to deafen the noise, but it seemed not to bother Suli as she unveiled herself from my tangle of mane and situated herself atop my poll, violet eyes fixated on the black and white hound. 'No like,' her mind silently communicated to my own, to which she curled her own lips back at the canine but kept her perch.

Though keeping an ever watchful eye on the strange trio, my attention filtered back to my own hornless group and the words that had been spoken between them all. To my knowledge, the glassy scorpion meant no harm to anyone; would Mirage really be so foolish as to go toying with the Basin again without first letting us know? Another deep growl left Suli at the tail end of Aaron's words, and looking down, I watched as the dark stud willed his own creation to come to life, mimicking our own. It crawled and clicked about as if it had a mind of its own, and immediately I was suspicious. Suli nearly took from her position to snatch it up, but a swift mental 'no' kept her from following through.

"Does it serve a purpose?" I questioned, lifting my gaze from the silver scorpion to the bronze marked one. After all, he had seemed disappointed that our own gift didn't do anything.

"Speak."




image by blu | table code by tamme


You may attack and use magic on Des at any time for any reason.

HP: 66.5

Deimos the Reaper Posts: 527
Deceased atk: 7.0 | def: 12 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.1 :: 7 HP: 72.5 | Buff: NUMB
Heather
#11
The being used to the art of taking, of avaricious grasping, of snaring and entangling wants, demands, and commands, was consumed, befuddled and perplexed by the notion of gifts. In rare circumstances was he ever offered something that he had not seized with his own hand (a crown and a throne, for instance, placed not by his actions, but the meticulous decibels of an enraged engineer); distorting, unraveling, contorting his machinations into the writhing, wrathful deliberations of an immoral infidel, of an iniquitous fiend. So he was forced to stare at the gathered, in silence, in hushed, muted pondering, and presume misgivings, doubts, suspicions. What drove others to grant things to one another? Affection? The Edge and Basin harbored none of these devotions, fondness or warmth; they were more likely to sever each other’s throats than bestow and lavish presents. Artifice? Did something lurk within the confines of the glazed scorpion, an enchanted eye, a ghostly spell, a mighty, Troy affair gallivanting as innocence? The inability for the flying beast above to truly answer his question left little peace nestled in his blackened, nefarious heart – instead the licentious muscle continued to beat ceremonious dins of war, where it tangled in vexed, eternal apathy and bedlam, resting amongst endless enmity. The Reaper had half a notion to destroy the creation altogether, place his hoof across the intricately designed glass and watch as it shattered into shards, fragments, tiny, infinitesimal pieces, a picturesque design of how he yearned for the Edge, the world, to fall apart at their iron, cold-blooded, malevolent desires. The GildedBlade, and his fellow compatriot, the ever-intriguing Ulrik, didn’t seem to harbor the same longings, and he couldn’t pick apart if he was disappointed by these notions or merely dulled into indifference once more. Ulrik gave over his own crafting abilities, and the monster’s hardened, piercing eyes witnessed the mechanical anomaly spring forth towards the ignorant and the foolish. Perhaps he’d allow the decision of the scorpion’s existence and presence to rest upon the golden femme’s shoulders, and he allowed the slinking of his narrowed gaze to slide towards her direction, bestow her the chance to deliver the verdict upon acceptance or destruction, offering naught but his nonchalance and insouciance. Illynx could grant her own gift: a singular message on the way their worlds had shifted, or the derision, the scorn, the anger and hate still nestled between their bones.
DEIMOS
delivered from the blast
last from a line of lasts
and now the kingdom comes crashing down undone
background pattern by webtreatsetc.deviantart.com
image credits

Quilyan Posts: 206
Deceased atk: 5.5 | def: 9.0 | dam: 4.5
Stallion :: Pegasus :: 16.2 hh :: 10 (ages in Orangemoon) HP: 62.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Zarina :: Pygmy Marmoset :: Quantum Leap ChaoticMelodies
#12

But when his heart was lifted up, and his mind hardened in pride...
Quilyan
...he was deposed from his kingly throne, and they took his glory from him.


The deposed prince is well aware that he does not belong here, as is made obvious by the scorn rolling off the trio of the Basin in waves. He analyzes them one by one, silently, with Zarina offering her own comments every now and again. The imposing, silent stallion is perhaps the one that he fears the most, though he would be loathe to admit it, for something about the way he carries himself suggests he is not to be trifled with. There is no mercy in those dark, hard eyes; in fact, there is nothing more than distaste and apathy. A chill runs up the painted stallion's spine, though he maintains a respectful, if emotionless, demeanor. The other stallion, tinged with bronze and accompanied by an odd dog-like creature that clicked and whirred, does not bring Quilyan the same sense of foreboding, but he is no doubt someone to by wary of all the same. Zarina hisses softly at the canine creation, her fur standing so much on end that she looks like no more than a ball of fur; a silent but firm reprimand from Quilyan calms her, and she grumbles in his mind as she settles into his mane.

The steed looks then to the lone mare, golden-laced and icily beautiful. Of course, he would spend more time admiring the curved physique of the queen, seeing as he had always had more use for those of the opposite sex. Though very loyally involved with Resplendence, the part of him that had long been an outrageous flirt could not help but admire other mares. After all, it never hurt to look, now, did it? Not if, at the end of the day, he returned to his princess without having done anything. And so he looks, a brow raised, thinking that if she weren't so very hateful and untrustworthy (for her words had, after all, had filled him with a certain amount of unease), she would be very beautiful. Had he been in his old land, he might have attempted to gain her favor. But that was a long time ago. He knows more now, understands the ways of the world, and he knows that however lovely the Lady of the Basin may be, she is more dangerous than she is worth.

His reply to her questioning earns him a hasty glance from Aaron, a stallion who, until now, the prince has been unable to like. The other painted stallion has exhibited a great deal of rash behavior in the hours after the invasion (or, at least, so it appeared to Quilyan) and it was so very like himself that the prince had been unable to accept the Glazier as easily has he had been able to accept the quiet leadership of Destrier. Of course, making male friends had never been his specialty. Still, as he stands in a foreign land, facing off with the enemy, he was glad to have Aaron at his metaphorical back. If nothing else, he knew that Aaron would give his life for their family, just as Quilyan would, and it was this knowledge that bound them together. Perhaps they would be friends, later.

The bronze-tattooed stallion appraises Kahlua's gift and in return presents his own; Quilyan fights to keep a sneer from his maw, having gotten the impression that the brute had done it simply to prove that he could do better than their little crafter. Zarina scampers to his poll, looking over the whirring metal contraption with interest. Scorpion danger, she says uneasily through their bond, and Quilyan has to agree. What good can come of such a gift? Would it sting them in their sleep, carrying the poisons of the northern herd? Or was it truly nothing, just a gift to be admired? Ancient diplomacy, instilled in him years ago as he was groomed to be the king of Th'orqui, keeps him from speaking out, instead inviting him to offer a smile. "A wonderful gift, to be sure," he compliments the stallion's work. Destrier finishes his thought, and he returns to silence, his gaze watchful as he scans their surroundings, feigning indifference. After all, it wouldn't do for someone to sneak up on them here.

[OOC | Sorry for the wait!]

[W/C | ---]
Walk walk walk.
Talk talk talk.
Think think think.

RayoDeSoleil.deviantart.com | Ness8Bit.deviantart.com

Please tag Quilyan in all replies.
Use of force and/or magic (with the exception of death) is allowed at all times.

Want to plot with Quilyan? Visit his plot page here!

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
#13
Her smile in the face of the strange assembly, particularly the painted girl, as they made mention of their desires for peace, grew all the more broad and giddy with each passing moment; upon remembering the way the girl had shouted and cried for all the fighting to simply stop that day on the frozen creek, not a dainty hoof print made in the comfort or protection of the buckskin stallion that had defended her, Illynx could understand the simple and rather useless message that this stunningly beautiful glass object was supposed to convey.

That she’d gotten so many men to come with her almost lulled Illynx into a comfortable appreciation of the black and white damsel. Almost… it was quite a shame that the mare had made a scorpion rather than a horn for herself as a gift. She and all her companions were handsome to look upon but for the ugly emptiness of their brows and the ones dirty, dusty wings. That they were of the Edge could have been forgotten, truly, just as it was with any of them but for Mirage or Smoke – if only they had the right bits attached to their heads.

It was a shame. Kahlua would have been truly beautiful if she’d been born to the right species; again, they all might have been, and it is almost sad to Illynx for a fleeting moment that one day, she might have to kill any of them in her quest to rule a world of only horns. It is fleeting because her mind replaces the unpleasant thought with the more delightful imagery of their bodies splayed against the rocks at the foot of the World’s Edge, distorted and bent in the suddenness of their impact, centermost in an elegant artwork of burgundy on stone. A nod and cryptically genuine smile is given in reply to her and the other stallion’s promise that it is simply a gift; a good thing… Illynx had little she desired to part with in exchange other than giving them the fastest ride down the mountain side she could think of.

”So, it does nothing…” mused a familiar voice, the whirs and the clicks of his mechanical wolf having alerted Illynx to his arrival moments before he chose to comment on the package that the quartet of the mists had brought to their doorstep. It gave sincerity to her smile, the gruff and demeaning tones of the mad engineer, and she briefly turned her gaze to witness the spectacle of the metal shards rising from the earth and forming into a metal scorpion, much the same as Ulrik’s own robotic wolf though it’s noise was far more heinous than even the gleaming canine could boast.

Her reaction was very similar to that of the only other woman present: the thing was shiny and was suddenly living. It had her attention most immediately – not to mention, Ulrik had arrived out of no where with an created an unnecessary gift to give; it would be incredibly sociable of her to indulge in its clever mechanisms, at least for a while, and her smile is amused and pretty on her delicate features as she watches it scuttle forwards towards the gift-bringers.

Of course, her mind is not so easily amused as to be vapidly observing it’s movements and intricacies; she herself wonders if the mad machinist has tweaked with it’s senses in some way as to be able to control it. As far as she knew, his own robotic companion followed only Ulrik’s whims – it would be interesting to know what this little fellow might see.

She is hopeful and beaming when the woman asks if it is for her, obviously pleased with the creation, and her soldiers have no rebuttal to taking it immediately other than the surly ebony stag. His question is simple though, one Ulrik should be clever enough to answer on his own; and it is to him that she looks for the coming reply.

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. 

Ulrik the Engineer Posts: 235
Deceased atk: 5.5 | def: 9.0 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.1 hh :: 11 HP: 69.5 | Buff: ENDURE
Kirchoff :: Common Hellhound :: Superspeed Tamme
#14
Ulrik the Engineer


Ulrik was aware of the painted mare's eyes on him, and he lifted his mad gaze slowly, staring at her with none of the social restraint usually present in... well... any other polite creature. He tilted an ear toward Illynx, who also seemed interested, but his eyes never left Kahlua's. The black beast blinked a few times and smirked at her question. "The red eyes sense movement and your image," he explained, the deep rumble of his voice hypnotic and dark. "It will follow only you, but I would suggest carrying it for the most part since its length of stride is much shorter than your own." The insolent chestnut pinto with his bitch spoke next, and the Engineer's gaze snapped over.

His expression darkened. "You speak those words from the same lips you cursed us with when you and your dragon-b... mare cast us out from the forests of the moon," he growled menacingly. "We are creatures of old blood and longer memories. We will not easily forget," he warned. The stallion then turned to the other one with the foul, green dragon, and he raised a single brow.

"Yes, it is an autonomous, articulating creature with the ability to move unseen by most through terrain we are too large to reach," he grunted, as if the answer was simple. "Use it in a way that you consider to be most useful to you. It is your gift." At least it moves... Asshole. What does your rock do? The stallion's glance was sour as he stared at Illynx, and his temper was obviously running very short. He nodded to the pegasus and then backed himself from the fray, staring once more at Kahlua.

"You can return when it needs maintenance." He looked upon the faces of the others. "Only. You."

Ulrik then shifted away, walking back into the snowy hills of the Basin, leonine tail twitching behind him as Kirchoff and the metal machine whirred in his wake.


Credits: Whit's tables were an inspiration | Image by Nikkayla

Kahlua the Sunshower Posts: 662
Outcast atk: 5.5 | def: 9.5 | dam: 4.5
Mare :: Equine :: 15.3hh :: 9 [Orangemoon] HP: 65 | Buff: NOVICE
Khan :: Common Blue Dragon :: Frost Breath Sevin
#15
The amount of silence from the other side, from the Basin unicorns, was disconcerting to the girl. Deimos said nothing, Illynx said nothing, they just listened and laid strangely prying eyes upon the horses of the Edge. Kahlua was disappointed. For some reason her childish mind had conjured up images of smiling faces that welcomed the glass structure with open arms. And so she was conflicted between her joy at the little gift that she had been granted and the sadness she felt for lack of interest in her sculpture.

But for the most part her sorrows were forgotten when the Engineer mentioned that the thing would follow her, and only her. Even his prolonged stare did not worry her or make her feel uneasy- she was much to simple and social to find the look uncomfortable. Instead, after another look to the wandering metal scorpion, she returned her blue eyes to his and smiled brightly. “Thank you, sir.” Perhaps Kaj was right. Perhaps all unicorns were not so bad as she imaged them.

And then he left. If there was something ominous about the way he said that only she should return, the girl did not think or worry about it. She was not particularly concerned that the thing would break, but of course the Engineer knew more about it than she did. Instead, she extended her forelimb, reaching out to touch her nose to the scorpion's tail, encouraging it to crawl up her leg and onto her withers. The feeling of the thing's claws into her flesh was not entirely desirable, but the girl was all but beside herself to have been given a gift and so she ignored even the tiny pricks of pain.

Once the thing was settled into place, she smiled, bowing her head to the two that remained, and picked up her basket. Her duty had been done, she would leave now. Then she turned, headed back the way she came, hoping her guard would follow. The day had been long, their travel tiring, but she thought it better to go home than to stay here in the cold. The woods were much better.


Permission granted to use magic or physical force with Kahlua at any time
for any reason to any degree, with the exception of killing her.

Please do not tag Kahlua unless it is in an opening post


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