the Rift


[OPEN] Feed me, Seymour [Africa]

Moniz Posts: N/A
Unregistered
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#1
The painted filly had led Moniz from one darkness to another. Admittedly, when the pony mare was ushered towards the hole that pierced the land’s outer crust, she had reacted with thinly-veiled skepticism. She was a mare, a creature of grasslands and wide open spaces, not some naked mole rat hiding from a vague and unknown evil in the world that sprawled beneath the world. The hole led to the bowels of the known universe, and Moniz knew that the bowels were where the shit comes from: a place from which to be expelled, not to enter of one’s own accord. That slick path streaked with the skidmarks of countless hooves certainly reeked. It reeked of fear and the stench of too many bodies sharing one finite space for too long, of disagreement and anger and resentment and most of all, of genuine, profound terror. The strange heat and humidity of mortal life rotting away below ground gave the hole the distinct, unpleasant impression of a few too many nights of Mexican food, heavy on the refriend beans and tabasco sauce.

And so Moniz hesitated, torn between her instinctive revulsion and her morbid curiosity of what unknown evil could possibly yield such horror. She had hovered in the late afternoon shadows that played around the hole’s rim, her black-tipped ears pulled forward to whatever lay beneath, magnetically drawn to the desperation below her. The fight-or-flight response of her reptillian brain was screaming at her to turn tail and seek out some other shelter, but her desire to watch worlds fall apart and the ruination of relationships anchored her. Finally, late afternoon shifted to darkness all too suddenly, and the pony lost the luxury of choice. There was nothing to do in the real world’s night: at least this shadow world held some faint promise of entertainment. Her decision made, she tumbled haphazardly downwards, her hocks dropped to balance her as she slid recklessly through the slick mud.

As her eyes adjusted to the ethereal light of a world that never saw the sun, her other senses compensated for her diminished sight. Murmurred conversations echoed cavernously from somewhere further ahead, but the low rumble that churned out of her gut earned her immediate attention. The only thing that could distract Moniz from the fun of a terrified shitshow acted out by her brethren was her desire to eat, and the long notes of her intestines squeezing against empty air noisily made that desire known. Thus, her nose took over, carefully picking out the scent of edible organic matter somewhere amidst the thick odor of fear – a fear that was delicious in its own right, of course, but that failed to satisfy the way a thick mouthful of lush grass could. Her nostrils flared widely, and she ducked off to her right. There was plenty of fear to feast on later. Dessert.

Moniz’s small gray hooves poked through the delicate mosspillows that carpeted the floor. At first, the otherworldly blue-green glow that oozed into the corners of her field of vision seemed like nothing more than a brief trick of her pupils’ dilation, but its stubborn persistence as she drew nearer proved to be no illusion. When she was close enough for the vines that fell from the ceiling to caress her well-padded back, she accepted this new reality: the foodstuff glowed. Her stomach rumbled insistently, undeterred.
As long as it tastes good, she thought happily, snaking her thick neck up as far as she could reach and clipping off a low-hanging flower between her teeth.

The petals burst over her pallette with a honey sweetness so rich, a moan of gluttonous pleasure rippled out from her chest. The sticky syrup that had trickled out when she ripped the vine smeared her lips like a gloss, drawing her tongue out of her mouth to sample the rich sugary juice. Her pulse quickened with delight at the discovery of this further delicacy. Now unencumbered by any sense of modesty, Moniz began to snatch thick mouthfuls of the vegetation that fell like gifts from above, noisily chewing and groaning with the sweet bliss of her indulgence.

@[Fig]

Africa the Starry-Eyed Posts: 727
Deceased
Mare :: Pegasus :: 16 :: 6 (Tallsun) Buff: NOVICE
Silas :: Common Zephyr :: Roc Riven
#2
They tell me I'm too young to understand
They say I'm caught up in a dream

Flourishing without the sun’s nourishing stroke and away from the burning brush of winter’s first frost, the ethereal garden thrived in the depths of the earth; a world of lavish resource and beauty beyond belief, and by the very rim, where the shadows fell hardest, the one winged mare sheltered in brooding silence. Bitterness had seeped into the crevices of her sharp mind, despondence smothered her young, tender heart- and the instigator of all which had soured her being had flounced by barely hours ago, as though nothing had happened between them.

Her ears were pitched backwards resentfully, each nostril pinched tightly against the muggy, moist atmosphere feeding the room, and she could not clear from her mind that smug confidence which had heralded his arrogant appearance. Perhaps it was not so much anger that gripped her; she was upset with him, that he had blackmailed her so callously, sure; she was disappointed that he had turned so unexpectedly, after driving out the confession of love she had not for one second wished to give. Africa felt the searing sting of his rejection, the bite of that crazed anger which had glazed each of his words; and perhaps most terribly, the placid young mare was overwhelmed by flooding guilt for lying.

Silas perched wistfully upon the slope of his beloved’s silk-dressed spine silently, unable to help her as again grief and melancholy wrapped vicious fingers around her undeserving soul. He knew the quality of her mind; the kindly throb of her aching heart, and even though these days, her thoughts were filled with self loathing and regret, the star-speckled Zephyr could do little to severe the self annihilation. His small scaled talons gripped carefully the ridge of her back as he shuffled sidewards to slip up to her rump and he smoothed the cloak upon her gingerly when sharp hooks snagged its flimsy weaving.

With meticulous care the avian began to preen the top-tuft of her raven-black tail; rolling snagged thistles and well-mated burrs between the sensitive curl of his tongue where it worked between each shell of his raptor beak. He had woven feathers, gloriously long and exquisitely hued into the length of those tendrils, and stretching his neck to find them, Silas bathed them with the concern he might his own- certainly his beloved seemed not to worry about such grooming of late.

The touch of her bonded soothed the pained lines from a fraught dappled hide. Still she thought of Windwalker, the switch of his personality and crudeness to follow, though while the Zephyr worked she found his lingering effect pacified marginally. A few had gathered in the garden in the mean time, though Africa stood well clear of their foraging or mingling groups. They were mainly strangers, bodies who she was not willing to invest her trust in; spirits who she had learned to be savage and unpredictable. Even with the protection of her companion close at hand, she could not find the courage once engrained through her core. Perhaps there was some small slither of sociability pulsing through her veins; one which leaned far from those drugged with masculine vehemence.

A mare drifted closer than most; oblivious it seemed as Africa watched with baited, suspicious breath, to the fact that she was there; half hidden in the eerie shade of the cave’s forest. She was much smaller than most of the Helovian population; less threatening perhaps, and one of the dappled mare’s ears slipped closer as curiosity cracked the shell of bitter antipathy. The bay fed ravenously, like her stomach had been unsatisfied for days; and she inched closer and closer to the wall by which the one-winged Pegasus hesitated. Soon too, the vile sound of gluttony invaded the tranquillity which had more or less been, and a sharp snort rattled through the flare of velveteen nostrils. “Hungry?” the breath of her voice fell through the dank air and the lonely feathers concealed beneath her cloak prickled with cautiousness.

credits

Moniz Posts: N/A
Unregistered
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#3
The sensations of her meal had fully consumed Moniz. Perhaps a smarter mare could split her attention more wisely, studying their surroundings between mouthfuls or keeping their ears in vigilant motion. But Moniz ate with gusto, utterly unencumbered by any distraction. The noises of her indelicate mastication echoed lustily throughout the cavern. Half-chewed leftovers that had spilled from her overstuffed mouth littered the phosphorescent floor, clearly demarcating the path that had brought her steadily, unwittingly closer to the shadows.

Most equines eat for fairly simple reasons: they require nutrients, they must restore their energy and health, or they enjoy socializing and grazing with others. Generally, they eat because they need to for whatever reason. Moniz approached food differently. She ate out of indulgence, with no regard for necessity. If she was not actively occupied by some other task, she could be found mindlessly eating., carelessly adding on to the stores of fat that already lined her short frame.

Moniz was chewing away, deciding whether to stretch for another flower or sample the moss underfoot, when she found her satiated reverie shattered by a loud snort and subsequent question. Irked by the interruption, her small black-tipped ears turned unhappily back towards her thick neck, and an exasperated sigh squeezed out from her lungs with what seemed to be tremendous effort.
“Nosy?” She sneered petulantly back at the stranger. As she spoke, the blue-green blood of crushed plant matter fell disgustingly from her open mouth, landing on the plush floor with a wet splat. Moniz appeared to take no notice.

Between her dark cloak and the wall’s long shadows, this other mare remained largely obscured: all Moniz could clearly make out in her current food-induced stupor was an attractive dappled gray head and neck and a pair of jonquil eyes that caught the soft subterranean light. She remained oblivious to the quiet companion perched towards the dappled mare’s tail; the aftereffects of gorging herself had left her groggy and none too observant. The pony had unknowingly stumbled close enough to the other to see she was at a substantial height disadvantage, but this was nothing particularly unusual for the short mare: now in her seventh year, she was thoroughly accustomed to being the short one. What she lacked in vertical height, she had gained in horizontal width thanks to her eating habits. She had learned to see her shorter stature as a unique advantage: between it and her female gender, she often found herself underestimated and overlooked, leaving her in a position from which manipulation was far too easy for one whose wits moved at such a lackadaisical pace.

Now that the frantic rush of her eating had been slowed, Moniz could not easily resume her consumption. She finished swallowing what food was left in her mouth with disappointment, glaring bitterly at the other mare through the curtains made of shadow. After one final gulp, she snarled nastily,
“So, may I know the name of the mare who ruined my meal?” She lifted her head defiantly, bringing her squat legs squarely underneath her.

Africa the Starry-Eyed Posts: 727
Deceased
Mare :: Pegasus :: 16 :: 6 (Tallsun) Buff: NOVICE
Silas :: Common Zephyr :: Roc Riven
#4

Apparently unmoved by Africa’s less than pleased remark; aside from the notable irritation which sent bay-brown ears sprawling backwards into the wild tangle of ill-kempt black mane, the stranger continued to gorge herself on that delicate material gifted to them all. A sneering, snide answer did trail the dissipating sound of the one-winged mare’s own voice, though it did nothing to quell the frustration pooling behind pale, beige eyes. She was not an overly assertive creature; certainly not filled with the same blunt self-assurance displayed here by the squat mare, and the most she could manage to counter the other’s ignorance was a second strident snort.

Her expression had always been unfortunately transparent, and so, Africa was quite unable to conceal the uncertainty which soon started to amass through her mind. She wasn’t certain she had the energy to continue along the road of would undoubtedly become spiteful sniping- backwards and forwards (such wasn’t an art she had mastered), and her lean frame swayed as she transferred the weight towards her rear left indecisively. Still the other mare; pony perhaps, given the rather stocky nature of her appearance, and stout swing of her character, offered little more than a side-swiping glance towards her company and the grey found herself at a loss. She could do naught but wait…

When finally the bay had taken her fill- Africa presumed that was why she ceased the ravenous decimation of the underworld forest’s lush carpet, a rather feminine face was lifted towards her persistent dithering. It was none too pleasant though, the shameless attitude riddling it and the scowl set through its slim line put the placid dappled Pegasus offside instantly. Swivelling ears reclined warily, and her posture bristled as the invisible wall of reserve was crafted around her. "Africa," she gave, perhaps a little too freely; feeling almost like a rebellious student who had been brought to task herself. "I meant not to disturb you…" She fibbed nervously, thinking that she might even slip then, away and up the corridor to find somewhere less- crowded, for her bitter session of introspection.


[Note: Ermagguuuurd your post LOL- and sorry about table switching, it had to happen]


image credits Table and picture by Nicole <3

Moniz Posts: N/A
Unregistered
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#5
Unimpressed at best by the gentler soul’s timid uncertainty, Moniz scowled with frustration. Kindness and mercy were lessons the pony had missed in her youth and so in her adulthood she undervalued these traits entirely. She was not the sort to brush off an intrusion, to forgive and forget, as the saying goes. Subtlety was an art that was entirely lost on her; thus, she took no note of the dappled mare’s shifting about – a loosely tied boat pulling at its slack. Africa had made the misguided choice to try to engage the bloated pony, and for Moniz’s part, she would do all she could to make the mare suffer for her efforts.

Cagey as the pegasus was, ever-bold Moniz stepped closer to her, perhaps unwisely close to a taller near-stranger whose penchant for physical aggression was totally unknown. The crude, earthy smell of dying plant matter wafted around her unseemly little body. If Africa’s almost-apology was intended to back the pony off, it had quite the opposite effect. Moniz got off on intimidation, and it was rare that she stumbled upon one who was so quick to yield to her. The untrusting twist of the feminine mare’s black-tipped ears delighted her. A peevish smile unwound across the blackened skin of her muzzle.
“And yet, here we are, Africa.” Moniz exhaled the name slowly, letting her voice trail, drawing out her power trip into as many lingering moments as possible. With the diminished distance between their bodies, her voice fell to a harsh whisper that screamed ‘no one will rescue you here’, “Tell me, is it your custom to let others walk all over you like this, or am I just special?”

Moniz’s upper lip curled into an unpleasant smirk. She was enjoying this opportunity to discomfort another far too much.
“Come now, you mustn’t interrupt me and bore me, too. Don’t you want to know my name?”

OOC: Moniz is such a little weirdo freak. >.< And I love the table!

Africa the Starry-Eyed Posts: 727
Deceased
Mare :: Pegasus :: 16 :: 6 (Tallsun) Buff: NOVICE
Silas :: Common Zephyr :: Roc Riven
#6

For some reason it was becoming more and more obvious that the one-winged mare attracted predominantly those with a sour attitude and a wretched chip on their shoulder. She had lost count of the times now, that nasty, bitter beings had crossed her path; but no closer had she come to standing her ground to defy their antagonism. Africa’s natural shift from disgusted to submissive was drastic, though quite true to her character- she was not an abrasive soul, and the prospect of conflict, whether physical or verbal, sent a nervous shudder through her vastly impressionable core.

The bay swung closer with little regard for the transparent uncertainty rising like a fog around Africa; she seemed unfriendly, impolite. Instantly the puddly-grey was intimidated, and involuntarily lean, long legs dressed smartly in white withdrew her frame from reach- she could not be certain the stocky little creature would not strike savagely; for whatever reason she thought appropriate. Stormy-hued ears jolted backwards, and her chin lifted; balking from the aggressive mare. Another had been met in recent times, a blue Pegasus whose skin arced with electrical energy, and she had been frighteningly similar; she had launched a completely unjustifiable attack.

The other spoke, feeding further the level of anxiety as it began to prickle through Africa’s fine coat, and the Zephyr grumbled in response- not nearly as malleable as the one-winged mare he was perched upon. He had skipped nearer to her withers, sharp talons holding considerately to balance, and violet eyes narrowed as they set upon Africa’s antagonist. Eccentric star-spangled plumage fluffed to exaggerate his otherwise sleek, small appearance- and not for one second did he consider the stout mare to be at an advantage.

"Walk all over me?" She repeated vaguely, already peering aside of her company for some route that might whisk her into the arms of solitude and safety once more. "I, ah…" Again she reversed, but the resistance of the cold hard wall she had been sheltering by prevented any such escape- no matter how pathetic the attempt. "You looked hungry, I meant nothing more." She breathed tamely, wondering if such a lie would actually wash- her tone originally had been a deliberate one, a deterrent of sorts. "What is your name?" she asked quietly, her voice but a low hum and retiring yellow gaze as far from the other’s stare as possible.


image credits
Table and Picture by Nicole <3

Moniz Posts: N/A
Unregistered
:: :: ::
#7
So much can be communicated without uttering a single word. The steps and feints of the two dramatically different mares could have awoken the dead, they had grown so loud. As the pegasus ceded more ground to Moniz, her invasive behavior was further reinforced. She was winning this interaction, and she loved it, relishing the discomfort that she alone had caused.

I am such a badass.

With every wordless display of submission, Africa stoked the brash little pony’s lust for power. Convinced that she had made her dominance well known, Moniz smiled and visibly relaxed, exhaling and shrinking decisively out of the other mare’s space. The pony delighted in these exchanges, toying with different kinds of power. She had the power to intimidate, and of course that was delightful, but she also had the power to grant the other mare a break. For now. It was only a matter of time before she would try to flip the switch once more, to see if she could. This was a game, and Moniz was grinning like a gambler cashing in on a rigged hand of blackjack.

At last, Moniz noticed the bird-like creature perched on her victim’s withers – the oblivious mare was at least observant enough to catch the subtle sheen of the dark avian’s feathers as he had moved up Africa’s spine. Moniz snorted dismissively as he puffed himself up the way she had seen other birds do before starting a squabble over seeds. She was floating, high on her power, and she would not be intimidated by this other creature’s confidene. She smirked, letting her judgmental gaze settle on the bird’s stark violet eyes while Africa began stuttering a response.

It was a battle not to interrupt Africa’s halting, uncomfortable speech, but Moniz held her tongue, letting the pegasus dig herself as deep as she wanted. Finally, as her voice fizzled into a final question, the pony smiled pityingly at her. She answered as though she were doing her a favor, hissing breathily,
“I am Moniz. Thank you for asking. But it is most impolite to try to bullshit your way out of this conversation, sweetie.”

Moniz’s smile broadened wickedly as a plan took root in her mind.
“I’ll let you go in just a moment, but you have to do something for me first,” Her voice overflowed with false sweetness, taking on the sing-song quality of braggadocio. “Look at me. Look me in the eye and tell me the truth. Tell me how I disgust you…” Her sentence faded into a sinister chuckle while she stepped back, watching the pegasus and her companion expectantly.


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