While the rest of the earth seemed to be cloaked in a warm blanket the atmosphere in the Basin was dramatically different. While the warmer effects could still be noticed the wind still carried a chill to it regardless of the time of the year. While he had only been here once before his hooves seemed to remember the way, or at least have a general idea to where he was going. Much had happened since he had last walked upon this ground, god only knows what else had changed in this territory. Glancing behind him he wondered where his fellow soldier was? Both of them had been instructed to relay a message from the Hidden Falls directly from both Midas and Seele. The message was their final decision over the proposal brought towards them a few days prior.

Since the herd meeting had taken place there had been much talk whether or not the Hidden Falls family would accept the Basin's proposed alliance. Some had raised valid concerns and comments before together everyone had agreed upon the final verdict, this was what he was doing here today.

Stopping a few meters short of the icy citadels borders he gazed around with silver orbs looking for anyone who might confront him. So far not a soul was to be heard or seen for what seemed like miles, yes maybe he was exaggerating a little bit but none the less. Turning his gaze down to his bonded he could sense the feline's apprehension with each twitch of her long tail as she too scanned for potential threats. Turning his cranium back around in the direction he had come he hoped to see the smaller reddish stallion appear before he called out to those of the Basin. While a second's presence may not be needed, it was always best to have another present just in case something out of the ordinary happened. Rostislav could also prove to witness the conversation that would take place between all of them.

Neither of them wanted to start a fight with anyone, today they would come in peace to show the same respect the mares from the Basin had shown their herd previously. Turning back he finally called out loudly announcing his presence to start the ball rolling.


Ciceron talks
Ciceron thinks
Kiara speaks

Rostislav

Ugghh.... Don't mess with me guys, not today. I'm trying to keep up with Ciceron, my brethren from the Falls, but I just can't do it. My chest hurts, my ear hurts, my withers hurt. Moving is painful, and I don't really care to be all go get 'em right now. Sure, I'll go where I need to go and do what I need to do. Just don't expect me to be excited about it. My spar with Elsa has left me a little worse for the wear, and it shows.

I've never been to the Basin, and I know little to nothing about it. Supposedly there are some unicorn supremacists living here, but I've never met them, to my knowledge. Though I have no personal desire to go to the Basin, I know my duties and have no problem following them. I summon up my strength and pick up a slow trot, trying to catch up to the gray stallion and his tiger. Damaris trots along beside me, offering emotional support. I know that she feels my pain, too, and I try to dull it with the vodka. It's not as bad as it has been previously, but I could definitely use a few more swigs. It'll have to wait until I catch up.

It doesn't take too long, and I stop next to Ciceron and Kiara. I don't look at them, or make any movement. But instead, I give a warm-hearted but somewhat delirious-sounding, "Heeeey brother." He has called for a meeting with those.. in charge.. to give them our response to the proposed Basin-Falls alliance. Hopefully those here will take our answer with kindness.


Walk. Talk.
Tag: @[Illynx] @[Deimos] @[Torleik], WC: 277, OOC: --

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I L L Y N X
take a look in the mirror - see the truth in your face

A call sends her trotting towards the source, leaving her son in the midst of the Crafter’s Cave where they had been arranging the items that had been brought in by the others and shuffling out the loose debris that had been sloughed from the walls during the harvesting of the bronze and iron that had been in this particular room. Rikyn, too young to know just how much the cave had changed since they’d begun broadening it, watches his mother go with all her words about what an achievement this vast, stone kennel is twirling through his mind.

He disagrees, but knows that it will be of much assistance to his father and the other weaver (Farenjer, had his mother said?) and is happy to toil without his dam’s watchful stare, he himself busying himself before she is even out of sight and the Lady a flashy display in her regal, platinum armor that finally fits back over her still slightly pudgy torso.

She is thankful for the cover, especially as she arrives to see who has beckoned smelling of the green haven to the south; the stag is familiar, colored like the moon with traces of silver flowers rising up his legs. That she knows his name adds a most benevolent gleam to her smile as she arrives to greet the two unicorns, pleased, at least, with Midas’ selection of consorts for they are as she is.

Arriving to stand alongside the dark Lord shortly after his appearance to the gathering, her smile is welcoming where Deimos’ mask is its usual glower, and inwardly she giggles at the way neither of them ever change while letting her eyes run across the obviously… impaired stallion and his unique flask who accompanies Ciceron. Adding to her delight of the ever faithful personas of both the rulers of the mountain and the drunkenness of the dual horned beast, she remembers the conversation that she and the dappled stallion had had when Psyche had been ousted from their number; she stood alongside one of the thorns to invoke that pain now, and he himself had born witness to it.

There were no traces of that weak and miserly creature left on her frame, today. Her neck arches elegantly and her pretty face is angled with gleaming golden eyes in full focus on the entourage standing at their gates, ears lifted to reveal the jagged, hairless ridges of the left; even her maternal figure is supple and graceful as she positions her golden dipped legs to leave her in the most splendid of physical arrangements before she, too, offers her greetings to the stranger and the man who had once consoled her weeping heart.

"My brothers," she says as sweetly as one can expect from such a well disguised snake, for they truly are as she names them no matter where they live, so long as she knows them to be of pure blood and of no bane to their cause and people, "welcome to our majestic abode. I am the Lady Illynx." She pauses to meet their eyes, her own illuminated with her lies of kinship and friendliness, of being no danger to any of them for she is only a pretty and kind woman who weeps in the snow as far as Ciceron knows, returning her gaze to the man who had called for them in the first place (having decided, quite quickly, that the other was surely an escort, for he reeked of something foul and she herself had loaned witness to the silver lining of the dappled stag’s tongue, surely a wise choice for such political envoys).

She does not see Midas or Seele arriving through the heavens or along the passage behind them, and she is not such a fool as to think that this pair has come bringing anything she wants to hear; even if the truce is accepted (the least likely option), she is offended by the lack of courteous behavior shown in sending lackeys to do the work that she had personally attended to when offering the friendship. She assumes, however, that the words to be given to her are no.

She asks, anyway, golden fox that she is.

"Do you bring word from the Czar and Czarina of our offer, Ciceron?" she asks, her thoughts on what he’ll say capturing all of a few seconds of her silent connection with each man’s eyes in turn, giving little time between her sentences to allow them to think she’d considered why it was two foot soldiers had come in the place of their king.

As the masculine call echoed around him the grey stallion heard the distinct footfalls from behind. Rostislav had finally arrived as he had said he would, though something seemed a little off about him today. Turning his head to return the greeting it became clear that there was a pronounced swagger to his step. Grazing over his shorter frame briefly faint swelling could be noted in places. Ah it would seem likely that a spar or fight perhaps attributed to the general's condition. "Brother." He replied softly with a slight dip of his cranium. " I appreciate you agreeing to join me in relaying Midas's message."

Further conversation was silenced as the drumming of hooves clattered towards them, it seems that his call was being answered. The blackened beast arose from within the hills bearing upon his crown his spear. A thought briefly crossed his mind of a conversation he had heard not long ago, could it be true that only those gifted with horns lived here? Rumors had gone around but he had thought of them solely as fiction but perhaps some truth could be held within those words. While he could not care one way or another if those he chose to associate with had such a feature the same could not be said for everyone. Each life was entitled to their own opinion so for his own sanity it pushed the question from his mind as he regarded the beast (otherwise known as Deimos) before him cautiously yet with due respect.

As he opened his maw to respond a second set of hooves echoed around them, these lighter than those of the lord. As the golden mare came into view a smile turned his lips as familiarity drew forth. This soul he had met in the past thanks to their in depth conversation many months back within the corridors of the Frostbreath Steppe if he recalled correctly. It would seem much had changed for her in the time between based on her new title and the slight curves she now bore resembling that of a maternal figure. The sorrow from earlier times now seemed to be forgotten and replaced with a picture perfect authoritative demeanor. "My Lord." He commented politely in a respectful nod to each head in turn as his gaze hovered over Illynx briefly. "So we meet again, My Lady." He had rather enjoyed their conversation together perhaps at a later date he could seek her out for another round.

Perking his ears forward he listened to all that was to be said before he spoke once more. " I do, after much discussion our Czar and Czarina have come to their decision. They kindly decline your offer for an alliance at this time but wish things to remain neutral between our families."

It probably was not the answer either of them had been looking for but he could only relay the truth not some concocted lie based on what they would like to hear. At least it was still in a way a peace offering instead of taking them as an enemy. As long as neither of them raised arms against each other things would hopefully remain as they were, calm and quiet.



Ciceron talks
Ciceron thinks
Kiara speaks

Rostislav

Ciceron speaks to me and I nod his way, fairly dazed from my drink that I'm using to soften my pain. "Thank you for.. " Blah blah, yeah you're welcome whatever. Let's just do this shit. I stand next to him and find myself focusing hard on not using him as a prop to lean against. No.. don't use the other ponies as support. You're too fat for that. I let out a big yawn, followed by a strange belch. Oh... well then. My mane hangs bedraggled over my eyes, and my damaged ear hangs fairly limp against the side of my head. My withers are still red and raw, my chest bruised. Ugh.

It isn't too long before we are joined by what I presume to be the leaders of the Basin. A dark stallion with a bluish horn approaches. He appears to be a fashionable, delicate steed, but when he speaks I find that he is much gruffer than he appears. Well then. Deimos, Lord of the Basin. Nice to meet you too asshat. ... Well that's not fair, maybe he's not an asshat. But I bet he is. Soon another unicorn joins him - female. The golden horn and radiance she brings is attractive. The longer I stare, however, the more I think I might be seeing two of her. I blink a few times.... and a few times more. One horn... two horn.... I look down and nose my drink - I think I should lay off for a bit. This one introduces herself as the lady of the Basin - Illynx.

"My brothers." I'm tempted to interject that I am not her brother. Neither Ciceron or I are her brother. But it seems inappropriate, so I grunt instead. Ciceron speaks up again, and I stay quiet as he does. As soon as he finishes though, I can't help but add, with a smirk, "No offense, Comrades." I'm not really the most diplomatic, but that's what Ciceron is for. The Praetus is much better about this politicking than I am. And I'm okay with that. Let me go drink and piss on people instead. Hehehe.

Walk. Talk.

Tag: @[Deimos],@[Illynx], WC: 354, OOC: Rosti is so not diplomatic..

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I L L Y N X
take a look in the mirror - see the truth in your face


"Indeed we do," she says sweetly, harboring no true ill will towards the proud dappled stallion but that he had brought her such terrible news and served beneath the wrong empire. If she had known who had chosen to make children with and he had known what had transpired between the two of them, however, it might have been a much more different view with which she looked upon the floral steed. He had won her affections, as slight as they were, with his words in the snow; so callous was her heart that such a fault as breeding outside the species would eradicate all friendship and kindness she harbored for the stallion.

But it is not so.

She only smiles fondly at the man and less so at his counterpart, still curious as to why the Czar has sent a half broken drunk to her doorstep rather than someone of more presentable nature; it is possible that this is all that resides within his fold aside from the Czarina and the darling Circuta who wears horns, a thought that makes her smile seem all the more true while inwardly it is only mocking of the lack of true power that resides beneath Midas’ rule. It is fine by her that the Falls keeps the weak and that the proud numbers of her kin come to the mountain to serve where they are most valued.

What comes next was something she had assumed from the lack luster committee that had arrived at her doorstep, still drawing her smile into the faint outline of a frown despite her suspicions. The drunkard makes a remark suitable for one as inebriated as he, and so she does not lash out at the stupid state of his brain, but rather lets the single word that slips from the Lord fill her ears and sink down into her belly.

Disappointing, indeed. She had thought Midas was clever, wise; she felt no such things within herself now. It was still true that he had saved her from the dark fate of the wraith, that he had ruled over two people and was loved by those who had come to know him – but he was no less an idiot than Kahlua, no more a great leader than a stream was a river.

To remain neutral… surely Midas knew better than that.

"A pity," she says, "I’d have thought the Czar would have seen the merit of such a friendship as what might have been between us." She glances towards the Lord, feeling her patience wearing thin for this conversation and deciding to draw it to a close lest her sour mood infect the air around them. "It was pleasant to see you again, Ciceron, and to meet… you,” she adds with a glance towards the unnamed vodka toting bicorn, "I wish you well in your journey home."

Waiting was always the worst part of a conversation where the anticipated answers would never be those ideal turnouts. While the message delivered from his lips was what was asked to be carried forth from the czar and czarina, still some doubt shadowed unanswered questions floating around within his mind. Regardless how he felt the decision of neutral would be how the cards would be dealt forth between both herds. It was still unknown as to what outcome would come from it all, he could only hope that it was one of little to no bloodshed.

Raising a brow the dappled stag cast a sideways glance over to Rostislav not completely sure what to make of his drunken state. Never before had he encountered such situation and it was beyond weird for him. Pain had driven some to do crazy things but this? What did it really accomplish rather than just making you so disoriented you couldn't tell up from down? Hey everyone had their fixes and he would leave it at that. Kiara obviously seemed to be just as wary of the drunken man for she stood to his opposite side as if to use his large mass as a wall should the drunkard suddenly fall over.

Remaining silent as both lord and lady spoke he tried to come up with something to say that would not only irritate them further. While he wasn't completely sure where he stood in this world anymore the fact remained that he was still residing within the falls for the time being. Maybe time would change this but currently he felt divided between worlds as he got stretched in every direction. " I regret I could not provide you with the answer you would have preferred." He commented remorsefully, looking from Deimos to Illynx as his gaze once again lingered over her golden features. "Always a pleasure miss Illynx. I do hope we might speak again sometime soon. Thank you for your hospitality I wish you both well."

With that final statement and a quick dip of his cranium he turned to make his way back towards the Falls with Kiara hot on his heels eager to leave this place and get back to a warmer climate.



Ciceron talks
Ciceron thinks
Kiara speaks

Rostislav

I've zoned out, more or less clueless to the situation around me. Well, not totally clueless. I can hear things going on but I'm not really involved. Ciceron speaks the truth and lets the royals here know what they need to know. All that politics stuff. Deimos speaks one word, and that's enough for us all, though something tells me he's got a lot of thoughts swirling in that unicorn brain of his. Illynx is more diplomatic about it - she feels the same way but is a little nicer and politer about their response. Sort of. I wonder if something is going to happen between us and the Basin. They certainly might try something....

I stare at them all, and then realize that the conversation is ending. Ciceron has apologized, and even my drunken eyes notice that his gaze lingers on Illynx. Does he have the feels for her? Huh. Maybe. I wonder if that's an okay thing or if maybe shit will go downhill there. Probably go downhill. But I don't really care. Meh. I try to remember why I'm even here. I am here to support Ciceron, but I've not said almost anything of value. And that's alright with me. Damaris rubs up against me, and I can tell that she's annoyed with my drunkenness. But there's not much that can be done once I've ingested it all, and horses can't vomit. Hahaha.

I look at Deimos and Illynx. Later, highnesses. It's not sarcastic, but clearly as a drunk I'm not at my highest performance right now. I turn tail and follow Ciceron from the Basin back toward our homeland, Damaris trotting at my heels.


Walk. Talk.

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