Illynx the GildedBlade Posts: 413
| Hidden Account atk: 7.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 3 |
| Mare :: Unicorn :: 16hh :: 13 HP: 67.5 | Buff: ENDURE |
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Kyst :: Common Griffon :: Zapping Jab
Bunnie |
05-15-2014, 04:55 PM
(This post was last modified: 05-15-2014, 04:56 PM by Illynx.)
While she loved her darling little boy, it was no excuse to give him an easy life.
The dark child trails along behind her, the last slopes of the mountain receding in their wake as she journeys for the first time from the safety of their home and out into the world. The younger she shows him the trails, she figures, the better they will remain in his mind, and with a life as she had led, it seemed wise to spend time teaching him all that she could. There was no promise for her in the morrow, a lesson she had learned young, that same shard of glass driving her to fill her boy’s head with memories of her beauty and wisdom, nostalgic thoughts of her love.
Rikyn, as she has come to call him, is clever and strong, for which she is immensely proud of; he keeps pace with her and his eyes watch the world with wonder, and for being only a couple of weeks old, he is tall and hardy, already showing signs that he will be as fierce a northman as his father. It makes her proud to look upon him as he trots up beside her, the gentle brush of his shoulder against her own frame comforting in ways she has not felt since fate stole her innocence from her when she was but a child herself.
He hasn’t said anything yet, which she supposes is normal. He’s barely old enough to be taking out of the mountains and she is sure he’s not stupid by the obvious way he seems to be studying everything around them; now that they’re outside of familiar terrain and moving out into the verdant fields of Helovia proper, its almost humorous the way his little eyes bulge in his face and how his neck never stops twisting to allow him to spy on the newest bird or bloom he has not yet seen.
Her armor is back against her skin, gleaming and freshly cleaned in the afternoon sun, and she is comforted by its embrace and the presence of her amulets; she is rarely confronted with any adversary while on her walks, but a primal sense to defend her new treasure burns within her, pressing her to hold fast to any and all means to keep him safe and to eat the face off of whatever might threaten him.
"We just crossed the Frozen Arch and out of the Frostbreath Steppe," she says to her son, not really sure how much of this will stick with him but finding great solace and joy in sharing words with the boy none the less; he should know these sort of things, either way, and the earlier the lesson the better it will be remembered, or so she hopes, "that wood over to the left leads to the Hidden Falls, the nearest herd to our own."
Rikyn looks to her as if to inquire if they are going there, to which she shakes her head no; a soft laugh breaks from her lips and she peers down at her child happily before returning to her words. "We’re going just past it, to the Thistle Meadow. It is my favorite place in all of Helovia aside from the mountains."
Increasing her pace to a trot, she listens to the steady sound of his small hooves in the earth as they walk, pointing out areas where she had met people of importance or done things she was proud of as they passed them, such as the looming, misty forest of World’s Edge where she had been born and met his Aunt Psyche. It all seemed so far away now, even when only a season ago the memories had been raw and open, weeping freely in the warm oxygen; perhaps it was the boy beside her, or that she had left the last part of that childhood behind her when she had made him with Ulrik. Perhaps it was simply that she did not care as much anymore that her home had been taken, because she had found a new one so much more worthy of her admiration than that dragon riddled grove had ever been.
They arrived to the meadow in the early morning, the woman having chosen the first light of dawn as their hour of departure to allow them sufficient time to rest before journeying home. The journey was evident in the low hanging head of the babe as he huddles close to her side when she finally draws to a halt beneath her favorite trees, the soft, tinkling song of the brook nearby and the delightful music of birds sounding out over head. Humming softly to herself as Rikyn helps himself to a late breakfast, she busies herself with a patch of clover at her hooves, savoring each emerald bite.
@[Snö]
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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.
| Deceased atk: 4 | def: 8 | dam: 6.5 |
| Mare :: Unicorn :: 16.2 hh :: 4 HP: 62 | Buff: NOVICE |
| ali |
 SNÖ</style>
& i know why everything wrong feels so right</style>
Frustration ran rampant in Snö's veins as she trudged across Helovia. It seemed like it was ages ago that she'd come across her sister in the Threshold. Mauja hadn't been far behind and displayed an affection and concern for his youngest daughter that left the ice princess envious. Envy certainly wasn't an emotion that she liked feeling but it was one that she felt often when she was in Helovia's grasp. Perhaps that was why she was always running away. She was left to wonder, though, why she kept coming back. It must have been some sort of self inflicted punishment that she kept putting herself through the same thing over and over again. Or maybe it was her way of testing her parents to see if they missed her or actually cared about her.
So far both of them had failed.
The varnished girl had bedded down in the meadow the night before after leaving the beach. The couple of days that she'd spent there had been far from relaxing and left her yearning for the colder temperatures of the north. Sand was not a satisfying replacement for snow. She missed the crunch of it as she stepped and the way it packed under her weight and gave her footing that she wanted. The sand did no such thing. All she had done was flounder in the loose stuff until she'd gotten to where the ocean waves had packed it tighter. It had been a blessing to leave the beach and she never wanted to go back. Ever.
There was a new scent in the air and it was one that she recognized both from living in the Basin and her recent trip to the Threshold. There was another, however, that she didn't recognize and it dawned on her that Illynx must have finally had her child. A coldness settled in Snö's chest, the desire to leave became almost desperate. But no. Snö had to torture herself more before she finally high tailed it back to the steppes. She had to see what this child looked like. She had to know if her father had sired another bastard child like she assumed he had or if she had been mistaken.
Her steps led her to Illynx and her child, both feeding happily together. Snö's ears tilted back as she watched them together with growing envy. The foal was dark, though, with none of the telltale signs of Mauja's lineage. Still, she couldn't be sure so she walked closer then stopped again when she was several feet away. It was there, tucked under Illynx nursing to its heart's content. And it looked nothing like Mauja. "You're not as round." She said as her gaze moved from the foal to its mother. "I guess congratulations are in order?"
"."
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Credits
ooc:// derps. this is before the thranduil thread so she's on her way to the steppes.
Illynx the GildedBlade Posts: 413
| Hidden Account atk: 7.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 3 |
| Mare :: Unicorn :: 16hh :: 13 HP: 67.5 | Buff: ENDURE |
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Kyst :: Common Griffon :: Zapping Jab
Bunnie |
The scent of the frosted daughter of her beloved is missed, covered in the spring smell of the grass that tickles at her dark nose, but the sound of her body and her hooves amidst the sea of green and the dark, rich soil cause the Lady’s head to rise but not her son’s. She is worried for him only a moment as her golden eyes search for the approaching figure and finds the rusty, snow covered young woman from her past, so recently returned not only once but twice. She smiles in greeting, though the other female does not; it makes Illynx wonder what crosses the brooding mind of the Basin’s lost daughter, her smile losing some of its vivacity as the daughter of Psyche comes to a halt and offers her greeting after eyeing the gold embellished babe at her side.
Her grin returns and she nods playfully, not truly in agreement; it is more the motion of a woman in comfortable company. While the dove before her may not have much fondness for the golden one, she remembered her small and innocent, unstained by Mauja’s stupidity and Psyche’s hidden, feather soft heart. Above all, though, Illynx cared for her because she was the daughter of her dearest sister, and such a creature is to be praised and watched over, even when she seeks solitude in the snow.
The girl is like a phantom. She comes and goes as she pleases, invisible in the air. Illynx cannot watch her anymore than she can tell you when the rain will next fall. It’s the least she can do to be kind to her, when she is given the chance.
"I suppose," she adds with a chipper tone, "he is called Rikyn." The babe had detached himself, having realized someone was here the moment Sno spoke and having quietly been peering about the mare’s chocolate shoulder at the stranger ever since, shy and strange in foreign company as his father. It makes her smile all the more true as she gestures back to him, her pretty gilded boy.
She looks back to her niece, not wanting to breach the tender beginning of their conversation with her concerns over her well being; her reaction to the appearance of her father hadn’t been a good one, to be sure, and it hadn’t settled well with the Lady ever since. She worried for the girl, mostly because she knew that her sire was as fool hardy as a drunk bat when it came to most decisions and Psyche was barely emotionally stable enough to rule herself, much less raise a child.
But it presses on her, these thoughts, and she wants to help her, for her darling Empress. She just does not know how.
"You seem well," she lies, smile never faltering, mask never slipping. She’s so used to asking the right questions to lead to her desired outcome that they trickle forth flawlessly and, while her intent is to probe her emotional well being, there is truth in the physical aspect. The girl is strong and clever, apparent by her solitary existence and nearly flawless frame, unscathed by mishaps or wanton battles.
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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.
| Deceased atk: 4 | def: 8 | dam: 6.5 |
| Mare :: Unicorn :: 16.2 hh :: 4 HP: 62 | Buff: NOVICE |
| ali |
SNÖ</style>
& i know why everything wrong feels so right</style>
"He is called Rikyn."
As Illynx spoke her child's name, Snö looked at him again. The more she stared at him the more she saw that he looked nothing like Mauja. From the tip of his horn to the ends of his tail he looked like his mother, but had she known who his sire was she'd see that he resembled Ulrik more than his own mother. Her tail flicked as she continued to stare at the young colt, noting each thing about him that made him different from Mauja. Dark coat, no spots, no frost anywhere on him, the tribal marking, the lion tail. Still, she couldn't help but think that he'd better enjoy the attention while he had it because if Illynx was anything like her own parents the colt would be on his own sooner rather than later. As she thought of her parents again she felt a mixture of disgust and loathing where she had once felt love and admiration. What could she admire them for anymore? Her father was a coward, constantly running away from choices he had made and her mother was so unstable she had never really acted like a mother.
Nothing. There was absolutely nothing she could admire them for.
The pale girl snorted when she was told that she seemed well. "I suppose." She mimicked the GildedBlade's answer, her icy eyes sliding from the colt to his dam once more. "His father?" She finally asked, wanting to hear it from Illynx's mouth whether or not she had screwed Mauja and bore his bastard son. The sensible part of herself knew that the child could not be Mauja's, he was just too different. The other part of her needed to know. Needed to hear it and be sure.
What would she do if it turned out that she had yet another brother? Would it make her think less of Illynx? Snö knew the answer to that before she even asked herself the question. Yes. Yes, she would think a lot less of the GuildedBlade if she had allowed herself to be bedded by the FrostHeart. This time, however, she would try her hardest not to blame the child for being born. She had been told once before in her time outside of Helovia's borders that one could not choose their family or situation they were born in to. "He looks nothing like Mauja." She said only seconds after questioning the child's father.
"."
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Credits
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 |
There is hardness to the white and crimson damsel that is foreign to Illynx’s memories of her, but she knows all to well how time can lash one’s figurative skin again and again until it was thick as stone and just as cold. That so many children have been subjected to this cruelty in this world perhaps deepens her desire to purify it, to create a place where, even if one’s father and mother fail them, there is a family in which they can submerge into, a place where ties can be made and hearts could grow to their full size and potential.
Would Illynx still be evil if the world was to right itself as she envisioned? If no one could look upon her as a villain because their flesh rotted from their bones, what would she be then?
A queen, a true one; those who saw evil in her would find no more reason to loathe or hate her, to draw conclusions that she was wicked or unjust, for all her decisions from then forward would be to better what she had already brought into actuality. A time of peace, a glorious and splendid realm in which only the worthy walked and shone, an era of prosperity unseen by any generations before her own. Perhaps she is mad, to see so much hope in such a dark agenda, but she has never paused to consider such things.
The snort of the daughter of Psyche draws the gilded Lady’s eyes back into reality, fading from the misty thoughts that were invoked anytime she looked on the babe alongside her or mentioned his name; he was a crucial piece to their indentures, something that they all would have to bring into the world if the world was ever to be whole and pure again, and he only deepens her desire to give him all that she has wanted in her life.
She smiles, softly, watching her innocent question bloom into the first explosion she had hoped for. The words immediately disregard that she is fine, plunging instead into a heated inquiry as to the lineage of the child and a seamless answer as to who she thought it was in the first place.
All of this makes the smile bloom into a long, hearty laugh that rings around them, the son of the Engineer looking from one woman to the other in confusion as to these conflicting emotions. One is angry and hostile and his mother is hemming about like a pleased hen. It makes his head hurt. He goes back to eating… or tries to.
"Because he is not Mauja’s,” she says, her giggles having brought bright beads of liquid to her eyes which she blinks away mirthfully, "Rikyn, come forward.” Sighing and slouching his slender head down as he slips from her side and out in between the two mares, he glances quite shyly at Sno before turning his eyes questioningly to his dam.
It is a lesson that Psyche should have taught her, one that Mauja should have shared. It makes her angry that neither of her parents have enough care in their hearts for their daughter to teach her not to make a fool of herself while filled with emotion. "He is more his sire’s son than my own. Tarnish the metal a deeper shade along his frame, add curvature to the length of his horn,” her gaze twinkles as she runs her eyes along the child, endlessly proud of each inch of perfection that she and Ulrik had conceived together, "its obvious enough that I should perhaps take offense to your assumption that I’m an idiot like your mother or his other abandoned women… but I do not, for she is an emotional fool as is your father and it is their fault that your heart has overloaded your wit.”
Her face is soft as she looks back at her niece, wanting to convey that she means no offense by her harshness and that she understands why it is that the only child of her sister is so lost and angry.
"Do not misunderstand me. I love your mother dearly and your sire did much for my people whilst he ruled them, and I mean no offense to them or yourself…" she sighs, watching her son slowly slink back to her side as he figures his job is done, "but neither of them did well by you. Mauja has done well by nothing he has ever touched, and Psyche is too lost in the darkness of her own being now and was too consumed by desire before. I think of you and his children with much sadness… I wish I might have been more of Psyche’s life when you were brought into it. I should have protected her from herself for your sake, but she always seems so strong, especially when she’s about to break.”
She feels the warm embrace of her son alongside her, a soft smile lighting her face at the emotional surge that rises at the touch; a sigh ripples forward, eyes soft and misty as she looks long and deep into the face of the lost child of the snow.
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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.
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