the Rift


of mice and men

Badger Posts: 68
Hidden Account atk: 4 | def: 8 | dam: 6.5
Gelding :: Equine :: 15'2hh :: 10 HP: 62 | Buff: NOVICE
Snow
#1
OOC: Ideally no Regime please as I already have both charries in that <3



It's raining.

Why is it always raining?

Badger's body language is dejected as he meanders aimlessly through the driving rain. His black fur is darkened even further than usual by virtue of it being soaked through, and his mane and tail hang limply down, laden with the weight of the pounding water. His stride is a miserable walk, stomping through puddles like a petulant child and swishing his sodden tail to get rid of the damned flies that won't leave him alone even when the weather is as abysmal as this. The pestilent little midges insist on biting him, and no amount of tail-thrashing will drive them away, because it's humid as well as horribly rainy and could this day get any worse?

As he walks, he thinks of his old stable. Warm, snug and filled with banked straw, he could stand happily in the corner and watch the rain pound outside, whilst he remained safe and dry within. He thinks of all the food he had access to as well, and how pleasant it was to never feel the growlings of hunger within his stomach. Oh, he misses his old home - he would give anything to be back there, with humans to feed him and cater to his every whim, and a cosy stable to sleep his days away inside. If he could find his way back, he would in an instant - being wild had never been on his agenda. How did some poor unfortunate creatures spend their entire lives out in the wilderness, away from human company? The gelding simply couldn't fathom it. Every time he sees a small village, he's in two minds whether to approach - they would be able to see from his halter that he's escaped rather than lived loose all his life, and could perhaps figure out a way to return him to his old home. But each time he resists, because he knows there's certain humans who wouldn't be nice to a horse like him, and he doesn't want to risk being held prisoner by some family of glorified apes. Worse, what if they tried to eat him? No, his best bet is to keep wandering, because surely if he walks far enough he'll find his way back to where he started?

Unfortunately, though, it seems like each step takes him further away from the life he knows and loves. The rolling countryside and scattered towns have been replaced by towering mountains and rugged, dangerous wilderness, uninhabited by people. He's been lost for about three weeks now, the weather changing subtly from winter to spring, and it seems his meandering path has brought him far further away than he ever could have anticipated. That only adds to his feeling of utter misery, and as the rain pounds with more vigorous intent onto his back, he decides to seek shelter. With no manmade structures around, he has to settle for trees, and there seems to be a large forest in the near distance. With a reluctant huff, Badger breaks into a canter, his large hips swinging as his stride eats up the muddy ground between him and the forest. Stones prick the base of his unshod hooves and he winces - he isn't used to not having shoes, but he'd been midway through being reshod when the fire happened and he'd accidentally knocked the farrier unconscious in his eagerness to get away. Naked feet are the least of his worries, although they do provide yet another reason for him to be constantly irritated.

Finally he reaches the forest, and the thumping rain lessens to a drizzle as the canopy protects him. "Good," he grunts, a snort of moisture rasping free from his nostrils. He keeps walking, occasionally stopping to sniff at the plants at the base of the trees - he's hungry, as ever, but he's worried he might accidentally nibble on something poisonous. So he contents himself with standing, leaning slightly against one of the trees and trying to plot his next move - he'll wait until the rain abates then work from there.

b a d g e r


Ruske Posts: N/A
Unregistered
:: :: ::
#2
A vial of hope and a vial of pain
in the light they both look the same

      I knew this pattern. It lay over a different map than it once had – hinged on new circumstances – but the skeleton beneath it all remained the same. Long after my first visit to the forest of Helovia’s Threshold, I ventured to those trees again. It was not duty – I went unasked – but the small act felt in some way predictable. Acceptable. I arrived in search of others like myself in hopes of bringing them home.

      Such a strange word.

      Beneath the stinging rattle of cold rain, my body moved forward at a languid stride. I held nothing against the weather, but with my winter coat shedding out I wondered after the warmth of the sun – cocked an eye up, every now and then, at the fleecy clouds high over intertwined branches. Spring chose an unfortunate day for weeping; disgruntled, I shook out the worst of dampness from my hide and trudged on.

      My path wandered between odd patches of conversation – the voices of those already engaged. Were I stronger, I might have felt my interest piqued, but still thin and ragged, I supposed my chances of enticing any away from the trees remained considerably low. I walked on, studying the old growth around me, until a lone shadow caught my eye: there, near the forest’s edge. He wore black and smelled damp, travel-worn – and slightly strange. Unable to place the off taste immediately, I hesitated near the outside of acceptable speaking distance. My eyes snapped the apparatus on his head: like old skin, worn and hard. I supposed I would know the texture exactly, were I to feel it. The memory of another black stud clad in leather shivered down my spine.

      ”Hello.” The word broke from my mouth in a dry bark; it was friendlier than it might have been, given the circumstances. This one’s build was clumsier than Roanne; I clung to this alone, and stepped forward to narrow the gap between us. ”Are you lost?” Perhaps he hailed from another place, one which also made some use of leather arbitrarily stitched across the head. I studied the contraption in silence, waiting for the stranger to speak – to lend me some new measure of his character.


Ghost the Cadaverous Posts: 219
Outcast atk: 5.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 5.5
Mare :: Hybrid :: 16hh :: 6 years HP: 67 | Buff: ENDURE
Fantôme :: Grey Wolf :: None imi
#3



Time was better spent playing in darkness up to no good, but now and then Ghost had to be the good Samaritan and go look for travellers in the Threshold. After all, Seele would not be happy if she had no information or no new bodies for her and an unhappy Seele was not in Ghost's best interests. So now and then she put aside her strange hobbies and saw to her duties whilst the warriors played some game for the prize of Legatus alongside poor shafted Eris. The sprite wondered if it tasted bitter for the crimson empress, to be shoved aside like an old play toy and replaced by something new and golden. Midas the Gallant. Though Ghost had yet to see little Gallant about him, she had to hand it to the archaic sod, he had balls to walk into a land now infested with the mad. Of course, they weren't all mad now and Ghost wondered if that was Seele's intention all along or was it simply a bump in the road. For how long did they have to put up with the normal folk? It was not her place to question, however, at least; not yet.

It was raining and it slapped her forelock to her face, not the best look, but Ghost didn't care. Rain was good, it washed away evidence and smelt divine. It lessened a little when she entered the forest coming from the falls, she'd decided to walk today because, as good as the rain was, it was an absolute pain to fly in. Wet feathers were horrific and no one would convince her otherwise. She continued walking a little further, trying her best to stay under the canopy of branches and listening to the serene sound of water hitting the earth until voices broke her peaceful bubble.

She turns and walks towards them, drinking in their characters as she draws closer to the pair, as ever, mildly intrigued by appearance. The smallest was monochrome, an equine with no significant features apart from the weird contraption around his head. What on earth was that?! Ghost snorted rather loudly in the absurdity of it, most likely announcing her presence as she did so, and her ears flickered in uncertainty at the pieces of strapping around the badgers face. "Why are you tied?" Her quiet voice portrayed the confusion on her face and she wondered if he was enslaved by someone. Before her imagination could get carried away with that thought she managed to drag herself away to the other male who was standing nearby.

This one was horned, like those who once inhabited the Edge, she wondered if he had similar views. Then again, she had met unicorns there after who had not been racist. Seele for example. He had a leonine tail and all in all looked like a tatty old book with his drabs of hair everywhere. Not every girls dream date. He asked the obvious question too, but someone had to ask it and Ghost said no more, intently waiting on the fastened stallion.

here we go again
it's madness
Let the heat of the sun
Reignite your memory
Because if we just turn and run
Let them fire the gun

❚ Force permitted, just don't kill her :3
❚ Please tag me!
❚ Pixel by Nyte

Badger Posts: 68
Hidden Account atk: 4 | def: 8 | dam: 6.5
Gelding :: Equine :: 15'2hh :: 10 HP: 62 | Buff: NOVICE
Snow
#4


Somehow he's found himself beneath the thinnest tree around, and a determined rivulet of moisture trickles onto his head. He's heard of Chinese Water Torture and he can see why it's effective - no matter where he moves he can hear the stacatto drip, drip of water hitting mud. It's enough to drive him insane, and his ears are so slicked to his skull it would take someone with keen eyes to even see he has any. His face is a picture of abject misery, his body half-relaxed with one hindleg gently cocked to take the weight off it. In his mind he's in his stable, a fresh haynet hanging tantalisingly in the corner whilst he stands safe and warm from the elements outside - his eyes drift shut as his daydream intensifies, and his bottom lip dangles with a string of drool oozing free from the corner of his mouth.

He's suddenly aware of another presence, and allows his gentle hazel eyes to open after they'd drifted shut as he dozed. The one who has approached him is a large male, bay in colour and with a face devoid of any human details - he wears neither halter nor bridle. But, as Badger's gaze travels up, his blood runs cold as he realises the stallion - or so he assumes - possesses a horn. A dark twist of an actual horn jutting from his forehead, like the unicorns the children would often speak about. Once, for a school fair, they'd strapped a horn to Badger's head and pretended he was a unicorn, but it was just that - a fairytale. If there's no humans here, then who put that horn there? His momentary fear is replaced by curiosity, and he returns his hoof to the ground and his considerable girth shifts from the tree he's leaning against. "Um, excuse me, if you don't mind me asking...who strapped that horn onto you?" He tilts his head, and as he does his eyeline roves to the man's tail - long and leonine, not the gently hanging tresses that the gelding himself possesses.

There's only one explanation for this - he must have dozed off against the tree, and he's dreaming.

But, he reminds himself, if he was dreaming, he would be back in his stable in the warmth with a full belly - not stood in a wet rainy miserable forest. And he can distinctly feel the raindrops on his back, which rules out the dream theory. That means that this creature must actually be real - but how? He looks equine, simply with the addition of a queer tail and a spiral horn, and his voice, when it comes, is exactly like Badger's own, so it isn't like he is a completely difference species with a difference language. Are you lost, asks the other, and the gelding nods his head dejectedly. "Yeah, I think I am. What is this place?" He gestures around with his muzzle, one ear flickering to the side as he picks up the sound of birds that he doesn't recognise, and the chirping of foreign insects. Wherever he's somehow stumbled, it is certainly not home.

Before he can bombard the horned man with questions, another arrives - and, this time, Badger almost collapses in a prone ball of black fluff with the shock. This one has wings, dear God, actual wings, and a curved horn that looks like it could cut through flesh like butter. Suddenly he's re-evaluating the dream theory, because this cannot be real. A muffled squeak escapes him and he reverses with such force he bangs his large backside on a tree, and he stands like that with every muscle tense and quivering slightly. The rain and flies are forgotten as his gaze darts between the two weird weird magical creature things, ears flopped to either side with abject terror. "You'vegotwingswhyhaveyougotwingsohmygodwings," he garbles, so fast his words run together as one. The winged, horned mare then has the audacity to ask about his halter - like wearing one is somehow weirder than having bloody wings, and the gelding fights the urge to roll his eyes. "I'm not tied - it's just a halter. If I was tied, there'd be a rope as well." Somehow his voice has calmed, despite the fact his heart is pounding faster than a galloping thoroughbred.

Wings. Really.

He looks between the two, deciding that, freaks as they are, he'd still better be polite. He doesn't want to give them any excuse to put those horns anywhere near him, because the vet's needles are bad enough and those things look ten times pointier. "I'm Badger, who are you?" He looks between them, gaze lingering on the mare's wings as he shifts away from the tree and tries to hide quite how terrified he actually is.

b a d g e r


Abishia Posts: 225
Hidden Account
Mare :: Equine :: 16 HH :: 5 years ~ Birdsong Buff: NOVICE
Wild.
#5



Voices caught her ears, and with great grace she pushed herself through the forest, leaping lightly over obstacles that dared to encroach her path. 


Soon, she found herself lingered behind a cover of trees, catching the vocals of a boy before her, a few horselengths away but in perfect View. But when she took him in, her head cocked in confusion, long forelock switching to the opposite side of her forehead. If his plain presence wasn't strange enough, upon his head was something... Some odd things tied around his dome. And when asked if he was tied, he spoke of it as if the one who bellowed the words was not as bright for lacking the knowledge he so easily spilled out in explanation.  Slowly, she picked her way around the trees, to come up to the group just as he asked how the one with the horn actually had a horn, then became very freaked out by the fact that the black mare with red tinged wings - and wait... A horn? Holy shit, was this a meeting of the misfits? 


She let a giggle pour from her maw and bubble on the crisp air as she came into close distance of them. A kind smile curled her ivory kissers and lit her pools with a light full of happiness and curiosity. She made her way around them so she could look at them all, bowing her dome to each before turning to the odd one that called himself Badger. "You are in the Threshold of Helovia,  sir. The transition, the doorway, to a new life and new opportunities.  " She smiled sweetly then looked to the others, kindred vocals ringing through the air once again as she spoke more, parting her maw slightly."There are many places here that you could join if you please. There is the Hidden Falls, World Edge and Dragons Throat. I highly suggest the Falls. " She smiled lightly then stepped toward him, taking in his appearance."And welcome to Helovia, Badger. I am Abishia,  it's a pleasure to meet you. " Then, she turned to the others."And you two also, it's a pleasure. "

@[Badger]






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please tag me in any and all posts

Ruske Posts: N/A
Unregistered
:: :: ::
#6
A vial of hope and a vial of pain
in the light they both look the same

      I did not fail to recognize the quick – uncomprehending – flicker of his eyes to my horn. As the pegasi had once seemed alien to me, then I must seem alien to this creature. The notion was hardly new to me, but it stirred a faint uneasiness in the back of my mind. That a realm existed devoid of unicorns, untouched by our hooves… I wished, briefly, that I might see it.

      Then the stranger spoke.

      “Who strapped that horn to you?” The question took a surprising form. My ears twitched; my head twitched, jerking startled against the long, gaunt structure of my neck. ”Who?” Was it common practice in his land? Could it be my kind was only alien to him because they were slaughtered, butchered and robbed of their clever horns? One of my ears twitched thoughtfully back – but why affix the horns to equines? ”It is my own,” I explained, my tones even to mask the quick interrogatives dancing under my skull. ”I am a unicorn.” There; I had taught him the word. For a moment I studied the boy in silence, wondering if his questions in the face of the unexpected implied intelligence – moreso than the average horse. I did like the sound of them, rolling nervous as they did off his tongue. He was, at least, not inclined toward attack.

      ”This is Helovia,” I said in response to his next question. My tail twitched as I cast a glance around at the trees. ”Specifically, you stand in the Threshold – the land between lands. It belongs to no one, though beyond the forest lies my home, and the homes of others. You would be welcome in most, I am sure.” But moreso in the World’s Edge, I added privately. Before I could explain more, the noise of footsteps drew my attention from behind: a winged mare, slight and quiet, approaching like a specter. Muscle drew rigid beneath my skin but with a taught, unhappy breath I willed my body to be still.

      She is not a ghost she is alive.

      The stranger, too, responded with alarm. I cocked an ear in his direction as he stuttered over the appearance of wings -- yes, lovely and surprising. An understanding smirk twitched at my features quickly, disappearing in a moment’s time. ”You will find Helovia is home to many strange and wonderful things,” I informed the equine as I turned again in his direction. ”My name is Ruske. I am a nurse for the World’s Edge, where we welcome all, and celebrate the vital importance of peace and knowledge.” I could not be quite certain this was true; I knew only a little of Kahlua, after all, and in perfect honesty she did not seem the type much given to pursuits of knowledge. But the Edge was home to gifted healers, all of them kind. He would be welcome there – I knew this, at least. He seemed rather soft, to my eye, and ill-suited to anywhere much harder. I cocked a glance at the pegasus anyway, curious myself as to her origins and her purpose in the trees. Would she prove more eloquent than myself? I supposed it doubtful in all honesty, but perhaps her silence was merely a way of biding her time.

      Another noise from somewhere in the trees caught my attention before long -- another mare (were they so numerous?). I tired of the many interruptions; meeting her nod with a blank stare, I only sighed under my breath. As if oblivious to any possibility of conversation before her arrival, she rattled off some series of inane information – most of which had already been shared – and politely I waited for her to fall silent. She must be young; I hoped she was young. Otherwise, she was merely irritating, and I found my mood souring toward the Falls quite immediately. ”A pleasure indeed,” I growled, my tone only just managing to remain polite. No more needed to be said; I had spoken my piece, and must resign myself to waiting. Hopefully this poor.. Badger… could see reason. If not… I supposed I did not want him, though the idea of losing him to either of the mares prickled the back of my mind. Highly suggest… I snorted, ears tilting back before I forced them forward once again. I might highly suggest the others all leave.


[ @[Ghost] Tried to keep straight the order everything happened in.... er, poke me if I messed something up. ]

Ghost the Cadaverous Posts: 219
Outcast atk: 5.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 5.5
Mare :: Hybrid :: 16hh :: 6 years HP: 67 | Buff: ENDURE
Fantôme :: Grey Wolf :: None imi
#7



Ghost snorted and watched him back up; the scared one. The mare never knew which reaction she was going to get, some simply looked upon her like they'd been seeing hybrids their whole life, some looked at her in wonder, some in revultion and others were like this one; shocked. "To fly." She answered him bluntly before he drove on, calming down now, to inform her that he was not actually tied but instead fit with something called a... Halter?! Ghost snorted her confusion but pursued it no more, satisfied with it being a foreign thing. He announces himself as Badger, named for his appearance she presumed and she liked his name. It was an easy one to remember and an easy face to put it to. All the easier to find him again, should the occasion ever arise.

The tatty book responded first and offered his name as Ruske. Ruske the Nurse! Commendable job, but he worked for the misty land she had been born in, a shame really. He spoke of peace and knowledge, Ghost would much like to know what knowledge they had, but an interrogation here was not the best idea. She listened carefully instead, picking up on each word before she chipped in after. "Ghost is my name." She answered, but didn't go on as the scent and footsteps of another had caught her senses.

She was sickly sweet, splattered in snow and mud, a delicate flower who was apparently her herd mate. The joys! She had seen mares like this one before, but she reserved judgement for now, she knew very little about this mare.

Abishia she named herself and was a mare she had not seen at the herd meeting. A newcomer maybe? Ghost let her gaze trail over her once until there was a gap in the conversation for her to smoothly pitch in. "I am also of the Hidden Falls, though I do not know this one." She looked at the flowery Princess with a curious unreadable look, but said no more on the subject. "The falls can offer you the same as the Worlds Edge and any other land. We reside just under the mountain in a hidden paradise of green forage and cascading water. There are other equines like yourself and very few like me." Ghost was a little more plain than radiant Abishia, but she smiled a rare amused smile and it lit up her features as she played the game of recruiting.

here we go again
it's madness

@[Badger]
Let the heat of the sun
Reignite your memory
Because if we just turn and run
Let them fire the gun

❚ Force permitted, just don't kill her :3
❚ Please tag me!
❚ Pixel by Nyte


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