the Rift


[PRIVATE] Trash and treasure

Africa the Starry-Eyed Posts: 727
Deceased
Mare :: Pegasus :: 16 :: 6 (Tallsun) Buff: NOVICE
Silas :: Common Zephyr :: Roc Riven
#1

The darkness outside the gaping mouth of their sanctuary was diluted with no pale milky moonlight, and the shimmer of starlight far beyond the earth’s pull had been dulled grimly by the obscuring haze of Helovia’s plague. As she stood their motionless, gazing out, Africa felt a wave of sadness for the sake of those hankering beside her, beneath the earth. Though beautiful and mysterious, their refuge was an unnatural dwelling, and many longed desperately for even the glare of sun-drenched clouds on an overcast day. She had travelled a half a dozen times beyond the cave’s security, questing to return with those lost and wandering, and never had the warmth of daylight; the sun’s recuperating stroke graced her thinned, puddly-grey coat. It seemed that a pestilence cloud had well and truly encompassed all that had been; the world and everything familiar within it.

A bitter wind blasted down into the entrance of The Sanctuary; a chilly reminder that Frostfall’s wrath had joined the darkness, descending to smother all that remained of the once thriving landscape above. Soft creamy eyes watched longingly for the familiar glitter of star-speckled feathers, for the flash of raven wings, or any sign that her friend had returned. So selflessly Silas had volunteered himself to retrieve those treasures and trinkets that had been left when the herd fled en masse north. There had been no time to collect valuables, to consider the future, or even glance back to view the luxury of their home- the warning had been ominous, and with haste each had swept from the crumbling security of the desert.

Finally, amidst a flurry of snowflakes and blinding wind, the Roc plunged down from the grim skies and into the shelter of their makeshift home. He had been gone nearly an hour this time, and Africa could not deny the surging fear which had overwhelmed her thoughts. "I was so worried..." she told him through the bind of their minds, reaching at the same time to grasp with blunted teeth the strange sullied pouch gripped between sharp talons. "What have you brought, Silas? Where are the shells?" Inquisitively she glanced by his beak, though it was empty. Had they been blown from the sandy nest, the small covering of dried grass, palm fronds and all, by the weather howling out there? Her nose crinkled a little with disappointment, and her bonded fluttered to rest upon the dip of her naked back.

‘They were too small. Shattered...’ The little avian tried in earnest to explain, and though she nodded; her long, slim face turned back towards him, Silas could see that she was saddened. ‘Covered them in litter... then sand.’ He added gently, reassuring her that they had not been abandoned. Though the young mythical bird could not understand the hoarding nature of his beloved- those items she prized so were junk by the view of his naturally nomadic nature, he respected them for her sake; like they were his own. "Thank you." Came the reply, and each mind was clear and pleased enough.

Africa placed the strange pouch carefully by her lightly-hued forefeet and peered down upon it with a rather puzzled expression. She had seen the likes of bags and pouches before- secured to her forearm in fact was a small leather satchel with varies feathers, a star fish and other pieces retrieved by Silas over the course of the week (if it had been so long). But this article was unusually supple, cushy; as though filled with some kind of liquid. Certainly she had little use for it, her own container suited her needs quite amply; and the oasis was never short of water. ‘It was by the wall...’ The Zephyr told her at last, rolling the feather he had removed from his lush plumage in his beak before letting it fall to the mare’s side. He eyes lifted at last to scout through the thin crowd gathered by the doorstep lost in thoughts of their own. "I’m not sure what to do with it. It’s too large for my satchel, and with so many living here beside us, I couldn’t begin a store like back home... Surely there are thieves around."

Her companion shrugged casually, thrusting his beak with a click into feathers fluffed about his throat; he cared little for her kind's excessiveness.


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@[Rostislav]

Rostislav Posts: 245
Hidden Account atk: 4.5 | def: 7.5 | dam: 7
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 15.1hh :: 7 (Frostfall) HP: 69.5 | Buff: ENDURE
Damaris :: Common Hellhound :: Acid Lauren
#2

All the fuss going on with the ladies I've met so far, I wonder if I might be losing interest in mares after this debacle with Seele and the Fork-Tongue lady. It's a boner killer, that's for sure. And then there was Oxy. The brute didn't seem to have taken a liking to me. I don't really know what his problem is, maybe we're both just ditzy enough that he doesn't know what to do with someone else so similar to him? Hmph. Not really my problem is it? Doesn't matter though - I don't have time for that silliness. I have my own issues. My egg, currently wedged between my lips and teeth as carefully as I can carry it, is taking up a lot of my time and focus. I can't pursue dem ladies when I've got a child of my own to bring up! Not that I'm aware of what sort of child it would be. It's not equine, that's for sure.. I've never seen an equine born from an egg, and that's, well, that's fact. Not to mention, I'm starting to get headaches - I've been neglecting my drink with all this commotion between crazy ladies and my baby. Vodka, you sweet, sweet (not sweet) drink that dulls my pain, dulls my memories. You take me away from the horror of my childhood, and make the blandness and inevitability of the day seem tolerable.

I see before me a pretty looking lady standing all by her lonesome. Except she's not all lonesome. She's got a bird with her. Handsome fella. I approach them slowly, taking in their appearances. He's a medium-sized raven-y type guy. Dark with some purple-y tints. Smarter than your average avian, I'd guess. She's a little bit taller than me, but is built very differently. She has no pointy horns on her, and I wonder if she's one of the normal horses. Nope, she's not .. but.. she's not rightly a normal pegasus either. Like someone couldn't make up their mind and said, "Well fuck it, a wing here and no wing there, a good day's work!" I wonder if it annoys her to be all mismatched like that. She seems to be going about her business like it's normal, so, must be. She's finishing up a conversation with her bird when I approach.

Closing in on them, I give a polite nod - even a drunk man can have manners! - and promptly have a seat on my rotund rear. I gently set my egg down between my hooves, nestling it there to keep it from rolling away. "G'evening ma'am, sir." I greet them both with a crooked smile and another nod, then lower my head to my flask and with skilled lips and teeth - I've been at this for awhile, folks - I tip it back and let the burning liquid trickle down my throat. I'm a little surprised at how slowly it comes out. Could it be that.. OH SHIT. I drop the flask against my chest and my eyes are wide. I'M RUNNING OUT OF VODKA. My heart begins to race, and I sit there staring at the pair as my mind goes blank with mild panic. Oh, oh baby... You don't wanna see papa without his drank.


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"Words words words."


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Africa the Starry-Eyed Posts: 727
Deceased
Mare :: Pegasus :: 16 :: 6 (Tallsun) Buff: NOVICE
Silas :: Common Zephyr :: Roc Riven
#3

Silas, having been so engrossed in the realignment and preening of his glossy feathers, had not readily noticed the approach of another; a stallion- twice horned and murky, wrapped snugly in the hand of underworld shadows. He did not see the drunken swagger marring each stride; the eerie gaze of silver as it swam across his beloved, the uncanny resemblance to those Unicorns so detested, and neither was he aware of the creature plonking down upon his rear right by them… Not until the unusual motion of plunging hindquarters anyway. Taken by surprise, the guardian Roc chirped warningly as the drawl of the stallion’s slurred speech fumbled forward to greet them- an overly wary habit of late, given their constricted living situation, the unpredictable nature of those dwelling around, and more so, the unwarranted aggression that seemed to be following Africa like a plague. Violet eyes examined the stranger apprehensively, none too keen for the interruption of their peace.

Ashen face was turned swiftly to meet the stallion who had seated himself comfortably close (was such a strange stance comfortable at all?), the long veil of her motley-grey, fire engulfed mane swinging along to the jerk of her startled movement. She had been well distracted by the slumped pouch by her own tan hooves, and it had only been when Silas’s attention switched so suddenly that Africa became aware of the other’s company. Light golden eyes arrived right in time to find him setting a small egg upon the slush-strewn doorstep to the Heart beyond- one that immediately took her fancy; looked much like the one which had chosen her after the plight of that fearsome Basilisk many seasons ago. Unable at first to drawn her gaze from the object, she might have appeared to ignore altogether the drawn out greeting of the male.

The second nod severed the fix of her focus at last, and a loose half-smile pulled at the wrinkled corners of her lips. "Hey,” she welcomed him innocently- the nerves which might normally have been arcing with alarm by then, dulled by the expanding curiosity in her mind. "An egg?" Again the gentle caress of her pale eyes wandered towards the vessel where it laid motionless between striped hooves; examining it carefully, before asking- "You know, I haven’t seen one for a very long time!" Flashing a pearly white smile his way, Africa then watched with narrowing eyes as he swigged from the flask draped by strapping around the thick base of his neck. He seemed none to please though, dropping it always as quickly; chilling eyes wide, his expression shaken. "What’s wrong? What happened?" The bewildered mare asked flatly, stepping briskly from his proximity for the sake of her safety.


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Table and Picture by Nicole <3

Rostislav Posts: 245
Hidden Account atk: 4.5 | def: 7.5 | dam: 7
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 15.1hh :: 7 (Frostfall) HP: 69.5 | Buff: ENDURE
Damaris :: Common Hellhound :: Acid Lauren
#4

I'm mid-panic, my eyes still wide as I try to process the predicament that I'm in. It's not good, it's not good. FUCK IT ISN'T GOOD. I start to hyperventilate, as much as a fatty can do. Shit shit shit. She's talking. I stare at her, lips moving, but I can't hear anything. Or can I? I'm not deaf. What is she saying... Who's.. wife... Why.. apples... That's enough to draw me out of my panic. My jaw drops and I stare openmouthed. "No, no. I'm not married. I drink vodka, not cider." I stare a little longer. Then make an "ooohhh" face. "Who's wife, why apples.. that's not what you said was it." Before she can answer, however, my brain has figured out what was going on. I nod to the jug lying awkwardly over my chest. Her focus, I now realize, had been happily on my egg. But my panic had forced her back from pure survival instinct. "I'm almost out of my drink, ma'am. I... I don't know what I'll do when it's gone." That's as far as I'll go to admitting how dependent I am on the vodka that I carry around my neck. That's I've been carrying around my neck for years now. I'm an alcoholic, and I don't plan to ever change. It's my safety net for all the bad. Though now with this egg, the little one that is between my hooves.. maybe that will change. But somehow I doubt it. It would take a lot to reverse.. well... to reverse the past.

I glance at my egg and back at her again. "I found it." I say simply, a bit defensively, as if trying to protect it and myself from unspoken accusations that I might have stolen it. I know I don't look the father type, but that doesn't mean I can't be one. That doesn't mean my little egg didn't choose me. But now I'm distracted again, by a pouch that I see lying there on the floor. It looks like... looks like something I've seen before, used by the men back in Russia. "What's that?" I say with a little less gruffness, and more desperate curiosity. I wonder if maybe.. it could be what I think it is. And perhaps have a drop of liquid for my soon to be parched tongue. Perhaps the lady will spare me a troubled fate - aka hangover and withdrawal - and help a poor lad out.

Text text text.
"Words words words."


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Africa the Starry-Eyed Posts: 727
Deceased
Mare :: Pegasus :: 16 :: 6 (Tallsun) Buff: NOVICE
Silas :: Common Zephyr :: Roc Riven
#5

Africa had been witness to a great many situations by now; personalities with quirks well beyond the realms of what was considered (generally) to be normalcy, but with the stallion plonked before her and descending into random fits of agitation, she felt like perhaps her level of experience had barely skimmed the surface. If there had been ever a line of hair perched across her right brow, it would have lifted just then.

His jaw had dropped to release a gush of senseless garble that matched no part of their meeting- not one bit, and apart from the sporadic breaks (she presumed to be the interruption of any thought process within), the drone of his anxiety seemed to have no end! Soft creamy eyes expanded, unable to withhold the wonder and overwhelming confusion as it barrelled through her retreating body. She had no idea what beverages he was referring to; a clean spirit who had never been sullied by any form of intoxication and found herself blinking circumspectly, only, in response. Soon enough, some perverted sense of clarity seemed to return through the frenzied flutter of his eyes (she could have imagined it), and he appeared to settle somewhat.

Choosing to seize his sudden awakening and not let it slip by, Africa began to nod quickly despite struggling within to grasp any logic behind the admission. She could not think of a time that lack of water had funnelled her into such a state of disarray. "Don’t fret…" She soothed bravely, stepping back towards him with a slowness that quickly betrayed the tattered nature of her trust. Already shining pupils were searching through thick lashes to find any fluid nearby that might quash his despair. Apparently though, he was not going to dwell any longer and moved along to talk about the egg- which is what she had originally been referring to…

The dappled mare shook herself heavily, literally trying to rid herself of the unseen fog which had all but suffocated her, and Silas fluttered briefly above before returning to settle where he had been. His violet gaze was fixed upon the unusual stranger, unavoidably unsettled by his apparent lack of lucidity.

But that topic was severed faster than the last! Africa sighed, nodding rapidly with a shortening smile that wished desperately for the dream; or nightmare, to evolve into something more manageable soon. If nothing else, the browny-hued, stick-faced stallion was entertaining, and though the amusement was so to build, she could find in herself no other method to play with. "Nice!" she aired quickly, consumed by the velocity of the conversation, following artfully his wandering gaze as it found the pouch Silas had brought down from the Throat.

Her shoulders shrugged lazily, unenthused by the artefact despite his apparently piquing interest. "It’s a bag of water, I think." She speculated, reaching down with pursed lips to fondle about the strap stitched to its exposed side. Carefully, they explored the strange vessel and found its top; a lid their sealing safely the prize within. Glancing with a casual smile towards the gawking stallion, she began to lit the cap away. "Let’s see…"


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Table and Picture by Nicole <3

Rostislav Posts: 245
Hidden Account atk: 4.5 | def: 7.5 | dam: 7
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 15.1hh :: 7 (Frostfall) HP: 69.5 | Buff: ENDURE
Damaris :: Common Hellhound :: Acid Lauren
#6

The mare before me valiantly tackles the bird brain nature I've taken on. Jumping from one topic to the next, I can't seem to keep my thoughts straight. But then, fear of withdrawal can do that to a stallion. If I were in her position, I'm sure that I would be lost and confused - and most definitely give up halfway through. She tries to calm me in my fear-of-withdrawal panic, and comes back with me when we're talking about the egg, and again when we've returned to my vodka-craving madness. I stick my nose toward the flask that she is opening, and my nostrils crinkle with the burning scent of the vodka, and all the pleasure centers in my brain start firing like it's the fourth of July. Oh what a joyful day it is! I can't help but think that there's a God out there that heard my wishes, knew my deepest desires, and said, "Hey, what the hell. Make the bastard happy." Truly, there is some thanking I have to do.

I take a step back to give the dappled beauty, and myself, a little breathing room. I'm trying to contain my excitement as I turn the babble in my mind into a coherent sentence. "Nay, my dear. That is not water.. that... that is vodka." A ridiculous smile spreads across my face, and my leonine tail flicks from side to side. I'm careful to not jump up and down, not wanting to risk the safety of my egg which now lies close by. I haven't forgotten it, but my attention has definitely wavered. I stare excitedly at the leathery pouch that holds my favorite liquid. "Of course, it's a finite substance. I'm running out." I nod to the worn flask around my neck. "But.. if you have no use for that pouch there.. it may last me awhile longer." I smile sheepishly, hoping the lovely lady will take pity on me. And that Silas won't peck out my eyes. I glance at him. I don't think he will like my drunken presence around his lady. I send a look of apology his way, trying to send him the message that I don't mean to creep on their space. The pretty dappled gray has not responded yet, and I watch her closely. "The only thing that could make it better would be if that there pouch refilled automatically. But I don't know anything that works that." I offer a shrug and wait more calmly for her answer.



Text text text.
"Words words words."


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