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The dawn was promising a beautiful day. In shades of gaudy gold and primrose pink, the sun ascended above the dark line of horizon, washing the night-black sky with watercolor fingers, kissing the ebon velvet softly until it blushed crimson and scarlet, aureate and gentle yellow. Sunlight glinted off the frost clinging to black tree and yellowed grass, and most strangely of all, something tall and endless and clear as glass.  |
* He is outside the barrier so not trespassing! He is seeking approval to join the World's Edge (with any luck) although he's been slightly sidetracked :B Anyone welcome, but someone who can accept Rico would be great too!
HP: 49.5
| Outcast |
| Mare :: Equine :: 15.2 :: 10 |
| Tallis :: Common Orange Dragon :: Fire Breath & Toxic Breath ali |
 The orange mare stood at a distance and watched Ricochet as he tested the wall. He was grown up from what she remembered him to be, but the last time they had crossed paths had been many, many seasons ago when Isilme fell to the shadows. He was all hard muscle, scars, temper, and memories- some fond and some not so fond. "What does he want?" Tallis' voice seeped into her mind and the mare's gaze rose momentarily to the branch in the tree above her that the dragon was perched. "I don't know." Evangeline answered back, remembering their last encounter. He had twisted her words when she expressed her relief that he had made it out and spit them back at her. She had known real fear at that point when she saw the way he had looked at her daughter. Unicorn daughter.
Evangeline sighed quietly and looked away. It would be so easy for her to just slip into the forest and disappear until he was gone. "What if he wants in?" The mare's stomach did a strange flip-flop at the idea of him wanting into the Edge. Would he really mingle with unicorns and pegasi without starting some kind of fuss about it? She doubted he had changed much from what his sire had molded him in to and it was disappointing to her. She could have loved him if he wasn't so hateful. "Can't run away always." Again, Evangeline looked up at Tallis and sighed. "He hates me, you know." She replied. "Times change. Horses change." Her gaze fell to the buttermilk stallion that was now backing away from the wall and muttering to himself. "I should have stayed on the other side of the wall. Then I wouldn't have to face him." Tallis snorted and rolled his eyes. "Don't be a wimp." Evangeline flicked her tail and shrugged off the casual insult that Tallis had tossed at her. "Rico?" She called out in a hushed voice before correcting herself. "Ricochet..." She doubted he had forgotten their last encounter as walked slowly from where she had been standing and watching. ooc:// ricoooooo <3 autumn is a second spring when every leaf is a flower |
| World's Edge Glazier atk: 6 | def: 9 | dam: 5 |
| Stallion :: Equine :: 17" :: 7 HP: 64.5 | Buff: NOVICE |
| Bunnie |
He’d taken to walking the wall. It was the only thing he could recall Mirage directly asking them to do, and the guilt that lacquered him was so thick that he felt pressed to walk its length. It helped the ease of the task that he could admire the thick glass barrier that he had assisted in the process to make, that he could look upon it and remember the one time in his life that he had felt truly useful and a part of a family other than that which he had left behind on the isle. Currently, he observed its foundations, partly for cracks, and partly for purely scholarly reasons. He took note of how the object nestled into the earth, it’s ends invisible to the eye; he didn’t dare dig up the earth along side the thing to see just how deep into the soil its shimmering roots were. He also took note of its balance and sturdiness. He was sure, although the thing was glass, that it was quite strong and would take many months of his beatings before cracking in the slightest. A familiar voice draws his interest near the gateway into the kingdom of dragons. His last encounter had been with two girls just out there, and while he wasn’t entirely excited to hear the vocals that met his raised ears, he was happy to know that Ricochet was here and well. It would seem he’d met Kahlua’s handiwork. The smile that lit the young man’s face was evident as he walked out of the doorway, arriving to find that his appearance was beaten by that of a beautiful flaxen woman. He took note of her with a passing gaze that was courteous despite her ability to draw his eyes for much longer than that; the slope of her belly and hips indicated that this mare was not a spring flower. She had already been plucked. As far as Dragomir knew, this woman was claimed. He meant no insult to her partner by gazing to long at his auburn prize. It would seem she knew him also – and from what he had already experienced of the brazen man, he figured that she understood his beliefs and bristle like exterior quite well. His grin never faltered as he approached, stopping a respectable distance from both and offering a polite nod of greeting to the lady, first. "Brother," he says to the buckskin, his crystalline gaze twinkling in the kinship that he shared with the man. He cannot entirely shake the foreboding feeling that fills him – he has kept their secret of what has occurred in the willow grove. Though he still wears the marks of the treason in faint aches where once there were deep bruises, he does not wish to revisit the occurrence or share the hideous imagery with his leaders. If Ricochet is here to cause such trouble, the boy is afraid he will have to dislike his new found friend. The thought is surprisingly upsetting. He has found great camaraderie with the milky buckskin, the fire starter, even shared his first true battle alongside him; it would be truly painful to the mostly honorable and brusque heart of the young stallion, who looks to the ash dipped male as a trusty side arm, or perhaps even the friend one finds in the man who walks with you into your first bullet-storm. "I see you’ve met our wall," he chuckles jovially despite the dark hesitations lingering in his mind. He is quite proud of the shimmering barrier, his part in building it, and the glorious beauty of the woman who made it, as well as the great matron who cleared the trees from its winding path. The wall, to Dragomir, is a symbol of the strength of his breed and people, the majority of the hooves who trekked alongside its construction those of equine decent. The wall is a symbol of the righteousness that he feels when he speaks the name of his Gods, Nieque and Aarde, the horse kings of Isilme, or when he looks upon the scar riddled man who he has come to know as one of the few who still remember their strength. He glances once more to the pretty woman who has also come to greet the stranger outside their misty haven, wondering if she too shares in this bond of brotherhood. "I don’t believe we have met, miss," deeply resonates his voice towards her, blue eyes honed in on the simple and pleasant attributes of her face, "but I am Dragomir, crafter of the World’s Edge." He is getting better at this conversation thing. He really is. Of course, both his companions in this particular exchange happen to be to his liking – their bodies are unmarred by genetic mutations, their brows simple and their shoulders bare. Still, he has not often shared words or his name as freely as he is now, and perhaps this is a sign that he is progressing into a more comfortable skin to wear. It could just be that he’s still partially high on the thrill of the chase, disillusioned by the weight of his guilt. |
Any violence/magic is allowed to be used upon Dragomir at anytime, permitting it doesn't kill or seriously maim him without my permission <3
| Deceased |
| Stallion :: Equine :: 15.2 hands :: 5 years Buff: BULK |
| Blu |
|
Rico. |
HP: 49.5
| Deceased atk: 7.5 | def: 9.5 | dam: 6.0 |
| Mare :: Unicorn :: 16hh :: 11 HP: 72 | Buff: SWIFT |
| Dominus :: White Lion :: None Snow |
She found herself spending a lot of time staring at the glass wall; it was a miracle of magical engineering, a feat worthy of Cinnoru himself. Many hours were lost when the steel soldier poked and prodded at the barricade, trying to see if she could make so much as a mark on it - after days and days of tests, she still hadn't managed a scratch. It really was incredible, and Nyx had never felt safer than when she was behind it, an invisible barrier between any predators or ill-wishers. She saw the stallion near to the outside of the wall, and was in two minds whether to approach - it wasn't really her business, after all. But through the glass distortion she saw Evangeline along with another male, and decided to hell with it, she was going to poke her nose in. It didn't even occur to her that the buckskin stallion could object to the horn that adorned her head; by now the woman was well used to racism, but still didn't expect to see it directed at her. Perhaps she was naiive, or perhaps she was so determined to believe in peace that she ignored any possible threats - either way, she trotted over to the trio, her body language perfectly neutral. She arrived in time to hear the stranger say the word Isilme, and instantly Nyx's ears pricked. She looked at him (noting in a detatched manner that he was the first individual she had met in Helovia who didn't have a companion, not one that she could see, anyway) with her usual cheerful expression, tones quite bouncy and unworried as she spoke. "You're from Isilme too?" she asked. It seemed Helovia was a mass gathering-place for those who had left Isilme during its destruction; Nyx had arrived five years late, but she was here at last. She looked around at Evangeline with a small smile, the other Edge stallion was given a nod, before her attention moved back to Ricochet. His otherwise handsome face was marred by hideous burns, but the usually blunt mare decides now really wouldn't be the time to point that out. "I'm Nyx, it's nice to meet you," said the iron lady, quite oblivious to the fact he'd probably rather kick her into the middle of next week than find out her name. She felt quite the odd one out, a sole unicorn in a trio of equines, but nothing bad could possibly happen here... |
| Outcast |
| Mare :: Equine :: 15.2 :: 10 |
| Tallis :: Common Orange Dragon :: Fire Breath & Toxic Breath ali |
The orange lady's ears tilted back against her head at the sound of Ricochet's voice. She hated the way he said her name, but he always had been a hateful jerk even when they were young. She snorted at him and Tallis flitted down from the trees and landed upon his bonded's back and narrowed his black eyes on the stallion that Eva had once called 'friend'. It seemed forever ago that she had. Evangeline's gaze shifted to another stallion who appeared while the dragon continued to watch the Incendiary. She nodded her head to Dragomir and waited in silence while the two stallions greeted one another like old friends and she felt a pang of sadness that Ricochet no longer treated her that way, but that sadness was replaced by annoyance when he introduced her as a way of trying to control the gathering.
"You've never changed, Ricochet." She murmured. "Still grasping for control over those you will never control." While her voice was quite she meant to sting him with the knowledge that she would not be his puppet. She was not so weak willed or short-sighted to be swayed by his pigheaded views. "Pleasure meeting you, Dragomir." She then said to the other stallion. "I am Evangeline and this is Tallis." The dragon blew a puff of smoke at the stallion then grinned toothily. A smile curled the corners of her mouth when Nyx appeared. "Hello, Nyx." She called over to the other mare while Tallis added his own trilled greeting. "His name is Ricochet." She answered the unicorn's question. "And he's from Isilme." Two could play at the game of control that Ricochet was playing. "First from the Emerald Valley ... or Lush Oasis if you were there after the demi-gods blew everything up." Her emerald eyes settled on Ricochet's face, defiance shining in them. I will not be controlled. "." ooc:// sorry for the wait! autumn is a second spring when every leaf is a flower |
| World's Edge Glazier atk: 6 | def: 9 | dam: 5 |
| Stallion :: Equine :: 17" :: 7 HP: 64.5 | Buff: NOVICE |
| Bunnie |
Accident, yeah, right. His snort of laughter is audible and blunt on the chilly autumn air, the humor in his smile jilted only slightly by the twinge of guilt that brightens in his heart. He isn’t really sure how to reply. He could be honest – that he has been nervous, that he has looked over his shoulder for the black mare come to pin his head to a post or the earth toned one who had come the defense and promised vengeance. He could say that he was more worried that Mirage would discover his actions, and that the presence of Ricochet here at the wall only heightened his paranoia. Instead, he decides to lie. Well, not really lie, but bend the truth if only slightly. "Well enough," rumbles his overly deep voice, "can’t say that clearing feels the same way." Thankfully for the willow trees, the rain had quench the flames before they had grown to out of hand, but he had since been back to see the blackened remnants of his sin. The only blessing in it all was that, in the spring, the ashes would feed the earth and allow it to flourish more fully. He catches the woman’s name from Ricochet and nods a greeting to her, the motion swallowed by her sharp rebuttal towards the buckskin. Dragomir’s eyebrows rise slightly at the mild irritation in her voice, wondering what sort of drama had driven the rift between the mare known as Evangeline and his new friend. His smile returns into its full, awkward warmth as she softens her attitude towards himself, however; thankful that her irritations only go so far as Ricochet (he knows women can sometimes be… less than reasonable in such matters), he listens to her introduction of both herself and the splendid orange she kept for company. "It is good to meet you both," he amiably states. His amiable nature doesn’t extend so far, however, as to openly welcome the unicorn when she arrives. The mare must have also been from Isilme, driving his inquiries of the place back into his throat as he turned pale eyes to look upon her. She is called Nyx, which he remembers with little interest in comparison to the equines present, but he does rather enjoy the buds of conversation that bloom from her arrival; the Emerald Valley, a place where his father had ruled at one point. Apparently Szello and Vihar had not lied when they had returned with tales that Isilme was being torn from the roots up; by their word, Dragomir had not been allowed to venture out into the old home of his parents, and it had always been a bitter truth until this moment of clarity. It wouldn’t have been safe for him to go, after all. "An interesting gathering this is, then," he muses at the close of the chestnut woman’s words, his smile amused at the thought that all those present were somehow connected, even if he was, as usual, the odd man out, "I haven’t ever been there, but my parents come from Isilme, also." Its not that he doesn’t notice the lingering tension between the other two equines present; he just chooses to ignore it. |
Any violence/magic is allowed to be used upon Dragomir at anytime, permitting it doesn't kill or seriously maim him without my permission <3
