the Rift


[OPEN] Enter The Villain[Joining]

Sorrow Posts: N/A
Unregistered
:: :: ::
#1



Father was gone. The Regime had fallen. There was nothing left for Sorrow within this land of Helovia, or well, that was what she had told herself for a long while. After weeks of moping about the absence of her father she knew it was time to get back upon her feet. There were crowns waiting to be adorned upon her head. Sorrow had decided she would bring glory to her father’s name. They would know of Tyradon’s line and they would praise it. All would kneel before the might of Sorrow and her future offspring. Children would come after her crown of course. A legacy was nothing without fame to make it memorable.

She had placed her eye upon a land and she intended to seize it. One day they would bend knee to her and she would raise up her attack force. There would be a careful process. Sorrow would get devoted followers to ensure she remain at the top. One little pebble could make the mountain collapse if there wasn’t good support. That process would take time, yes it would be a careful step by step before she made her strike. She would clip the wings of the glorified chickens and trample them beneath her feet.

Sorrow waltzed up to the border of the Dragon’s throat, a fabulous name for a place to rule. Dragons were the soul bond of equines after all, she could see them flying about the sky patrolling her borders. A warm wind brushed her thick mane along her neck and she closed her eyes for a brief moment envisions her future kingdom. After a long moment she called out into the silence with a loud whinny.

“I am Sorrow, and I seek to join the ranks of the Dragon’s Throat as a soldier,” she shouted, her deep voice booming throughout the still landscape.


[This is so gross I'm sorry T^T. Still trying to find Sorrow's character. Tier 1 or 2 characters only please, I'd like for this thread not to lag too much.]



Sacre Posts: 274
World's Edge Emissary atk: 5.5 | def: 8.5 | dam: 5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16hh :: 5 Years HP: 65 | Buff: NOVICE
Inari :: Red Fox :: Heal & Ríona :: Common Kitsune :: Electric imi
#2


Picking up the call from the mare, Sacre raised his head in light surprise with Inari almost copying the same action. His sand crusted mane whipping around his face in messy clumps as blue eyes shone a new interest. Someone was at the borders. The colt made haste, not wanting to let down others with his new role, hooves quickly dancing across the arid surface towards the large wall that protected their borders. Inari ran swiftly beside him, equally intrigued. In his first few awkward breathes in the throat land, Sacre found he had an increasing habit of getting stressed over being a disappointment or not fulfilling his duties properly. His heart pounding loudly in his chest the closer he got for there was only himself and this stranger, no one to give him a running commentary on how well he was doing. What if he scared them off? What if he let a murderer into the family?! Every little nagging 'what if' was there in the back of his mind and he did his best to push it away, breathing deeply and repeating you can do this.

Upon arrival at the border Sacre's eyes bulged at the size of the mare who was at least a hand taller than his own father. She was big in the other direction too, that the colt would keep mutely to himself in case he angered the horse form of Boudica, vast in muscle which equally meant vast in strength. Sacre looked like a twig next to a oak. Yet, for all that mass she didn't seem that much older than himself, which was an ease on the nerves. He swallowed and clutched his fiery confidence, playing his usual happy-go-lucky card with a beaming boyish smile with joyful tones to match. "Welcome Sorrow" he welcomed her warmly.

There was a pause before his next words as he thought over them carefully whilst agreeing quite point blankly that she did indeed look like a warrior not to be messed with, but he asked the first question that came to mind anyway. "I'm Sacre and my friend is Inari. What has brought you to the Dragons Throat?" He asked with honest curiosity, there were many other herds after all, perhaps she had ventured here for similar reasons that he had himself. Inari peered from around one of Sacre's forelegs with eyes wide staring at the mare's gigantic feet.


SACRE && INARI
Oh, oh, work your love
I want to live my way of living

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There's something wretched about this
Something so precious about this

❚ Force permitted!
❚ Please tag me!

Sorrow Posts: N/A
Unregistered
:: :: ::
#3



Sorrow disguised her disgust as the horned stallion approached. Filthy horn upon his head, it was such a shame this land was polluted with the mixed blood of winged freaks and glorified cows. Her father would be revolted by her cordial behavior with this mongrel, but she knew better than to display her dislike. Sorrow had learned the art of subtlety in her wandering and found more were willing to come near her if she displayed a façade of gentleness rather than wickedness. The gentle giantess was far more endearing than the warring woman on a rampage. Soon enough this boy would be her inferior, that much she had planned. She would create an empire of equines within this Throat, and whether the lesser beings could remain would be determined later.

“Thank you,” Sorrow said, a smile passing over her lips. There was genuine cheer in her eyes despite the fact she spoke with a lesser being. As foul as they were, Sorrow couldn’t deny the pleasant company they made from time to time. Maybe she could tolerate filth inhabiting her kingdom, she needed them to adore her after all. Keep yours friends close and your enemies even closer after all.

“To be quite honest, the name is what drove me here,” Sorrow said simply with a shrug. “Names are truly powerful thing Sacre, some believe to give their true name means to give control. That’s just a silly superstition of course.” A soft laugh escaped from her lips. She laughed yet she was the one who declared crows gods. Many had believed her views eccentric, but she knew better than to declare her beliefs to others. “I also have always preferred warmer weather so I thought the Throat would be a suitable match for me. “

She shifted her heaping weight over to one side and gave out a long sigh. “My father also recently vanished, and I thought it may help me to find a new family until he returns. Are you a leader of the Throat?" This was the information the giantess so badly needed. This would be the key to her ascension. Naive little boy, he really does seem kind though... Maybe I can keep him around, She thought to herself.


@[Sacre]



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

100%

Although the gift of flight had been restored to her, though somewhat primitive it truly was, Africa felt not the need to lift into the heavens at every opportunity like those of her bloodline should. The one-winged mare had been shackled by gravity for such a period of time, that trekking afoot was second nature. Her body had shed the litheness necessary to soar between grand wings along the currents curling through vast blue; it was slim, wrought with rippling muscles and padded well to suit the life of a ground dweller and the journey’s one such pitiful creature would endure. In place of the grand athleticism of her kind (without the need), she portrayed the true elegance and marvellous physique of Spanish heritage, pools of soft grey dancing atop clever hooves to the hidden tune of desert winds swirling along the surface of the dunes, stirring clouds of dust to plume around her as she went.

It was home. Dragon’s Throat was where her heart lay; was where she yearned achingly to be whenever duty called her away from the southern paradise flanked by naked parched and searing earth. Africa’s gait hastened the nearer her churning limbs carried her, and her heart fluttered with glee as the long, narrow strip of bridging land spread into the south before her. She’d been patrolling just north of her homeland’s borderline by the brink of the clay heart of Helovia and Silas wheeled far above to the east where his swift shadow skimmed the angry waves of the summer ocean. She paused before the rocks paving the way home loosened, lowering flared nostrils curiously towards the scent of one unknown who she thought to have passed by maybe less than an hour before her. A brisk snort disturbed the dust cloaking the stranger’s invisible trail, and it was whisked instantly into the cosy breeze.

Right away Silas was feeding from the rouse of her thoughts, the thunder of a moved heart, and shifted to cover the northern beach of the Throat, searching always by the bridge for any sign of that visitor. Violet eyes found quickly their target and another also that they recognized not. Fractured images of the scene below were delivered into the mind of his beloved, a young (dwarfed) stallion who appeared at first fleeting glance to resemble Voodoo (he too had a small canine at foot); and a considerably sized mare who lingered by the border in his company. Lower and lower the star-spangled zephyr descended above them, and he realised quickly that it was not Africa’s long-time friend. There was no tree in which he could alight, no boulder or spine, so the avian continued to circle warily above- though he noted quite audibly through his bond with Africa, the direction each horse was facing (her to the south, a fair sign that she alone sought something; and he to the north, a brother of sun and sand).

Africa came upon them quickly, guided always by the black beacon shining against the brightness of the clear sky, and slowed her surefooted canter as she pulled up (a thoughtful distance) behind the mare. The rubble strewn across the narrow strip of land scattered as each hoof leading slid beneath the instruction of stiffened white knees, and all around her kindly white expression cascaded the thick oily, flame engulfed tangles of her unruly mane. Through the dissipating shroud of airborne dust the one-winged Pegasus stepped towards the duo with a delicate smile written through each taught line of her pallid face. She was a mild-natured creature, peaceful and clever, and though the weight of her crown pressed heavily across her bobbing brow, she forced the strain from their sight. "Afternoon," she offered them smoothly, warmly, careful pastel gaze surveying each horse in turn. From his vantage points (high beyond the reach of ignorant eyes, and locked snug beneath those of his beloved), Silas watched guardedly.

[ooc: @[Sacre], I hope you don’t mind if I use this thread also for Africa to meet him. I would like them to speak further, later, so that she can formally give him the rank of Sleuth.]
Africa

Sacre Posts: 274
World's Edge Emissary atk: 5.5 | def: 8.5 | dam: 5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16hh :: 5 Years HP: 65 | Buff: NOVICE
Inari :: Red Fox :: Heal & Ríona :: Common Kitsune :: Electric imi
#5


Sacre smiled back, believing her to be the cheerful mare that she presented before him and accepted her thanks with a gentle snort. His blue gaze attempted to latch onto her own strange orange one and the boy noticed her markings for the first time, like his own had red like scars, she had tears. A face stricken by permanent anguish. Her name made more sense now, Sorrow, how sad for a mare who greeted him kindly and he wondered how many distrusted her from the get go due to these features. The boy knew that his own markings were not exactly what one would call 'pretty'. His father had said his red had been reminiscent of his Aunt, who had apparently been a cold and calculating thorn in his sire's side, something Sacre was not. He wondered more that Sorrow might share in his similar fate. Life and it's cruel ironies.

Soft velvet like lips curled into a sunny laugh as she mentioned the might of the title, Dragons Throat, was one of her main draws. Like the main scene from a legend, Sacre too had to admit that it did have a nice ring to it and was almost exciting to introduce oneself as a member. She too shared in a laugh and informed him that names had power, but she herself thought it an irrational notion not to be heeded. Sacre thought about it for a moment, there was probably some truth to the superstition, thought perhaps not in the fantasy sense. "To know another's identity surely puts you at an advantage I imagine, though I think much like you, maybe not in the magical matter. A silly superstition indeed." Though Helovia was always full of surprises, but the warmth Sacre could also agree on. Stifling at first and the odd sand storm was going to be difficult to get used to, however, the colt found himself preferring the sun's warm glow than the snows cold slap.

Goliath hooves shifted their weight and once again Sacre found himself admiring her sheer height compared to his own. He wasn't at all fully grown yet, but still he knew he would not grow to such a level and in a way, he was rather disappointed by it. Inari, on the other hand, was very much relieved. One accidental step on a rather small vulpine could end his short lived life. No, Sacre was big enough for the fox.

Sadness flickered briefly across his expression and he offered a brief condolence, he had not seen his own parents in a long time either and he thought he could relate, in his own way. "I'm sorry about your father, I hope you find him soon." Features changed a little gingerly and almost apologetic then, her question although simple was a rather difficult one. The land he now claimed to represent was still an enigma to him. "I'm not a leader and in fact I'm rather new myself. Sohalia the Sultana greeted me into her family, but I'm not sure what I am." Or what I could be for that matter he sighed. Sacre had never really put much thought into, he knew the general idea of ranks that could be found and his vast need to always know would always be useful in an information gathering role. Then again, if he needed to be strong wasn't following the path of the warrior always the best thing? How was he supposed to know at his tender age, he'd reached a point where he could take responsibilities, but not yet mature enough to know himself and what he wanted.

His contemplative thoughts were interrupted by another approaching, sounded by the brisk sound of hooves hitting hard rock and Inari, whose keener senses picked up the approaching pegasus and her companion with a sharp turn of his head. Sacre followed his gaze and noted the grey mare for the first time, his gaze immediately drawn to the fire in her hair. Eyes bulged at it and his ears twitched with uncertainty whilst Inari slid further under his belly. Fire was danger, fire meant burning and yet she stood before them like it was nothing, a harmless flame. It was a few minutes before the boy could draw his shocked gaze away and notice many other things, like the crown and the cloak, the wing affliction and the bag. She was a myriad of stuff, strange stuff and beautiful stuff. The boy hadn't noticed her companion who was too far out of the way to grab his attention. Her voice was warm and after a moment more Sacre found his voice. "Hello- uhm wow! Sorry it's rude of me to stare, but you're quite startling at first" he nodded with amusement in his voice to the fire in her mane and tail.

"Are you also apart of my new family?" He asked curiously, his words alluding to the fact that he was rather new to the place.

[ooc: gah thank you Riven! He's a little lost soul atm <3]


SACRE && INARI
Oh, oh, work your love
I want to live my way of living

Image credits


There's something wretched about this
Something so precious about this

❚ Force permitted!
❚ Please tag me!


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