the Rift


[OPEN] Tick Tock.

God of the Spark Posts: 111
Helovian Ancient
Stallion :: Hybrid :: 15.3hh :: Ageless
Admin
#1

.....


God of the Spark


Just what had been going on. He hadn't heard from the Basin in... well, time is a funny thing, now isn't it? Especially for one who can just slip into the time stream, and end up where ever he likes. Really, he might hop backwards, making the appropriate answer to his question of, Just where the fuck are all of you, actually seem quite trivial. Then again, judging by his current surroundings, a few seasons had passed since he had last been called down.

They did have a Haruspex didn't they? There was...well, let's see...That old one. Then there was the idiot who broke the mirror - of course he wasn't a Haruspex and then...well, then there was the pretty one - the one with the attitude. Ugh. How he hated when they had attitude...but who came next? Had the leaders not even bothered to elect a new one? And didn't he get a say in these matters? He was the fucking god of time after all. Did they think they were so impregnable up here, hidden away behind the mountains, that they didn't need him? He was of course pleased that he hadn't been bothered, but really, they should be bothering him. They should be needing him. Perhaps he'd have to open up a rift in time deep within the mountain, and cause an avalanche. Maybe then they'd pay attention.

Appear out of thin air, the stout stallion looked around the snowscape. Huffing loudly and dramatically at the lack of fervent worshipers, he decided to try again. Not a second later, the God had winked out of existence, silently and completely. In the sky, lightning churned and ignited the clouds. Swirls of purple and blue began to form, as a fierce electrical storm began to dance and sway. The air sizzled with a feeling of tangible electricity, causing static to wreak havoc on the manes and tails of all around. A bolt of lightning - of such size that it could surely cause significant damage should any be too close - erupted brightly, heralding the arrival of the God, who, stepped neatly from the time rift once again. The air smelled sweetly of petrichor, even though there was no rain.

"HARUSPEX" His voice boomed. Of course he could have chosen to step through the mirror like he was supposed to, rather than appearing in the middle of no where. Actually, he could have chosen to appear to the Haruspex directly; he was the fucking time god after all. But no. They would come to him.

*This thread is open to all.



.

Image Credits
FOXX


Zikar-Sin Posts: 78
Hidden Account
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16hh :: 8
M.E.
#2


....Did that hurt you...?



The cavern of the mirror continued to sport a particular, musky scent that stubbornly permeated the inner sanctum, no matter how much Sin frequented it. It seemed Myrddin’s influence would persist for as long as was possible—as well as another lingering musk of female, surely. Yet Sin never knew the lady Huyana very well passed the image of a quiet, sea-painted smile etched sadly into the dark backdrop of the basin mountainsides. How very tragic the dame seemed to be, though her ocean eyes didn’t stir Sin’s sympathies as much as the ghost-white image of his master did.

Whatever the case, Sin’s time since the meeting had been filled to the brim with his own brand of buzzing activity. On his end of things, there were artifacts to preserve, experiments to keep from ruin until he would be able to pursue those particular facets of his interests—for though Sin’s academic range had been drastically expounded upon, his missions regarding natural philosophy continued to tug at an affectionate heartstring somewhere deep, deep in the void of his humanity. But once his personal affairs were in order—why, there was much material for him to brush up upon, regarding the histories of his noble clan of regal unicorns; as well as the times gone by that detailed Helovia’s evolution and the relation between the tribes of pegasi, the primitive of equines, and the unicorns of eld in those tender eras; tales of valiant figures to retain by memory; organizing whatever access he had, in short, to the collections left by his predecessors in his position.

In addition to this, Sin took it upon himself to frequent the cavern of the Mirror, as he had oft witnessed his master do in the earliest days of the Basin. The breath within Sin’s chest would always freeze with a curious buzz whenever he gazed upon the mirror of eerie, ethereal beauty and power. He had witnessed a former king emerge from the mysterious depths of the divine looking-glass; he had even seen how the mirror had fallen, impossibly shattered, a work of forces too awesome to fully understand. And now, in these days since being named Haruspex, Sin gazed at the mirror, into the mirror, in simple contemplation. For though he was well versed in the arts of natural philosophy, he had to ponder to himself—how best should one summon and speak with a god?

It only took seconds for the question to be ripped from Sin’s possession—as well as a flash of light form the mouth of the cave, and a great, booming voice that could leave no doubt of its owner, and who it was calling for.

Erupting from depths of the cavern like a dappled demon, Zikar-Sin made absolute haste for the Time God, seemed to stand in a charred and ruined area of his own splendor. Sin gazed upon the stout stallion with of mix of awe, reverence—not fear, however, Sin didn’t know how to feel that particular emotion—and avid, wild excitement bubbling from his wide, slightly protuberant, icy eyes. Keeping a healthy distance from the black god, Sin fell on his knees in exultation; the curved point of his horn nearly touched the ruined ground. Rising again, Sin wore his most earnest grin, saying, as he did so, “Great Lord of Time and Lightening, it is an honor to be called to your presence here!” The blurred image of his blue eye staring through the frosted glass of his monocle was one that was ever attentive, ever observant, and also slightly manic—for the unfortunate scholar could not control that piece of him as much as he could wield the lightning that had razed the ground. “If it pleases you, Lord, I’ve been named Haruspex of the Aurora Basin unicorns.” Some of his excitement managed to slip into his tongue as he continued, “I do look forward to serving you and your glorious domain, my Lord!”

...Forgive Me...




God of the Spark Posts: 111
Helovian Ancient
Stallion :: Hybrid :: 15.3hh :: Ageless
Admin
#3

.....


God of the Spark


Oh the Basin was lucky. If Zikar-Sin had shown up any later than he had, the God would have destroyed something. A mountain maybe. The entire fucking basin if he felt like it. Maybe, he would even slip back in time, step on the legs of some of the inhabitants, so that as they grew, their legs would be weak. He was the god of fucking time after all. Maybe they needed a lesson in just what exactly that entailed.

But, as it was, the rather awkward Haruspex was presently running his way. They Basin was safe from his wrath. For now anyways.

Wait. Hold that thought.

As Sin dropped to his knees and rose again, blubbering about being named Haruspex and what not, the God stood silently, his face a mask of disapproval. On the one hand...well. He didn't look like he was going to fall over and die, like the old one did. He also didn't have attitude, like the pretty one did. That said, he was neither as wise, nor as nice to look at, as his predecessors. In fact, he looked rather stupid with a piece of glass shoved up to his eye. Did he have problems seeing? Didn't he know that could be fixed--. Oh. It's one of those fashion things, the God surmised quickly. Mortals. So weird.

Even after Sin had finished, the God remained silent. This is it? He wondered, looking at the oddly horned Haruspex. Fucking lightning swirling around in the sky, and only he decides to check it out? Just who the fuck was in charge around here, anyways? Well...he would have to do.

The God's frigid gaze suddenly fixed upon Sin, as he let these thoughts pass. "Whose in charge around here right now? And what's this I hear about alliance forming? "

Huffing, the God paused, furrowing his brows in thought. He had forgotten...something. What had he forgotten? Oh yeah.

"What did you say your name was?"



.
Image Credits
FOXX


Zikar-Sin Posts: 78
Hidden Account
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16hh :: 8
M.E.
#4


....Did that hurt you...?



Quietly, attentively, Zikar-Sin stood ready and ever manic in his pupil as the Lord of Time’s disapproving gaze washed over the dappled hide, the ruined, matted locks that tangled around his crown and spine. The Haruspex could feel wafts of power emanating from the stout little deity; currents of static ran the length of his dreadlocks and crackled against the metal frame of his monocle, his sides teeming with the dormant electricity that flowed like water from the pores of the ancient God. Yet, though Sin stood in the shadow, the presence, the attentions of a Helovian primeval lord—one of those great Titans who formed the wondrous world in which they lived, even crafting the home where they now resided-- the tragedy of Sin’s cluelessness persisted; the chill of the Time God’s subtle dissatisfaction failed to rouse and alert the dappled stallion in any way. In fact, the grin on Zikar-Sin’s face did not dissipate, but instead stayed fixed upon his visage, a testament to his devotion—for he knew that if the God before him truly wished to banish Sin from his presence, he would do so, in all his infinite power. That he allowed Sin to stand his ground—to call himself “Haruspex” without clear reproach—heartened the scholarly stud all the more.

He was here to serve the Lord of Time with all his ability, and as such, he answered his heavenly liege promptly, without a stutter to his teeth or hesitation to his heart. Time was rather important to this fellow, of course—and Sin wouldn’t waste any of it. “Lady Illynx the Gilded Blade and Lord Deimos the Reaper rule us currently, my liege, the very same worthy souls you handpicked from our company,” he said smoothly, with a dip of his head, “and if I may attempt to correct any confusion or miscommunication on our end—I believe what Deimos and Illynx have crafted is merely an armistice, my Lord, a cease-fire, if you will. After our…” Sin drew a small breath, exhaling it softly as he continued, “…unfortunate losses some seasons ago, they believed it prudent that our current focus should be focused inward, in the betterment of our herd and kinfolk, with a reduced worry for potential bloodshed, yes? Our loyalty lies only with you, my Lord—“ he dipped his head again,”—and the land you so graciously gifted us. It wouldn’t do for us to let our affairs fall to ruin, merely for some past altercations that are so easily lost in time.” He paused, blinking for the first time; his grin never wavered, however. Talking to a God was coming a little bit easier. “I ask that you forgive our failings, if our intentions weren’t properly clear.”

But then the Lord of Time pointed out yet another failing, this time directed squarely at poor Sin. With an affected shudder, the Haruspex said, “I do apologize for my lapse in civility! I am named Zikar-Sin, sire.” He would have to do better if he were truly going to be the relay between the Heavens and the Earth, he must never allow his top courtesies to slip through the cracks. He was the ambassador for his people, after all—and aren’t unicorns the most civil of all races?

Squaring his shoulders slightly and gathering his posture, Sin allowed the embarrassment of his faux-pas to roll off his chest, addressing his God of Time this time with purpose, instead of passive supplication. “My Lord, I have a humble request from our herd,” he said, remembering what his lady Illynx had charged him to do, “Our brothers and crafters Ulrik and Farenjer have created a fine cloth tent, with the powers you’ve granted upon their position. We ask that you bless this creation with the gift of silence, so that any who enter it will be given quiet solitude from the rest of the world—at least, for as long as they reside within its cashmere walls.”


...Forgive Me...




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
#5

& not to pull your halo down
around your neck and tug you to the ground, but...
The Lady is late to see the flashes of light that streak across the heavens, her golden frame passing through the last stretch of path that would return her to her home. She had left Rikyn in the care of the herd, trusting in her lessons for him well enough that he would behave beneath the watchful eye of her herd mates. She had been out walking the boundaries of the land, tending to the pathways and removing fallen branches and obstacles from the ones most often used by her people, her usual tasks of observing the work being done within her home discarded for the greater and more selfish need of escape and peace. Riding along her back is the small, growing form of her Griffon, the little cat-bird’s pale blue eyes astoundingly bright as they watch the world pass them by, swallowing in great gulps the world that had almost been denied her.

The sight of the lightning sends her at a much faster pace, her companion’s claws gripping tightly into her neck and sending delightful pulses of pain up to the Lady’s brain, finding comfort in each tiny cut the talons cause on her body for they are marks that prove their bond. She will always wear her marks from Kyst, where those from Rikyn were hidden beneath her chocolate coat in the form of stretched skin and the stubborn weight that she still struggled to drop from her after months of eating everything she saw.

Her golden legs flash beneath her at a canter, Kyst swaying with each bounding step and every so often chirruping her delight at the sensation of the wind against her feathers. Too small to fly still, she watches the birds and other flying creatures of the mountain with envy, but while on her companion’s back, she can pretend that she is reaching the heavens.

Illynx arrives to the cave of the Haruspex to hear the dapper tones of the chosen mirror keeper trickling from the confines of the stone, slowing to a walk that allows her head to bob in motion with her muscles and a faint heaviness to her breathing reveals that she had hurried here. Few and far between have been her encounters with the Gods of Helovia, and she decided a while back that she would try to change that, if she could.

Stepping over the outreached claws of the glass scorpion, she peers into the cavern with her usual regal air, head held aloft and proud and neck arching with grace. Kyst tightens her wings to herself, taking in the sight of one of the creators with respectful reservation, where Illynx displays all of her nationally renowned ego with each step. Zikar has since finished his assault of flattery on the God and the Lord of Storms now inquires of the Haruspex what he wishes to know – and the Lady smiles, stepping into the cave with all the humility she can muster for the sake of her chosen keeper and coming to a regal halt just behind the frame of the Haruspex.

Bowing low, a forelimb stretches long and straight before her and the other is tucked with a knee to the earth, golden horn resting its tip on the stone; her parents had described this as the most admirable way to greet another you respect, allowing them the chance to break her horn with a sharp blow of a hoof and trusting the other well enough to know that, should she lose her crown, it was for her own good.

She hopes he does not ruin her, as Psyche has been ruined. She would simply die of shame where her Empress had hid it away in loneliness and the life of an outcast; her heart was not as strong as the former Lady’s had been, no matter how tough she pretends she may be.

Looking to the mirror keeper as the God’s words close, she, for once in her tactless life, remains quiet, waiting for the eccentric man to answer the inquiries presented to him. She could hear the hostility in the painted Lord’s words, to be sure, but she also knows darling Zikar enough to understand that it will not phase him – the Haruspex is odd, as she described him to her son, but amiable, of good spirits that seemed impossible to tarnish.

He lives up to her expectations, smiling brightly in the face of all the dissent from their God figure.

She nods as her name is given mention, knowing that he knows who she is. It was not so long ago that she and her two children had come to him to pray – and received blessings, though even then he had seemed disgruntled with her demeanor. She wonders if any of the Gods of this land can see her for what she is worth, and love her; it grows tiresome being condemned by all those she views to be greater than herself, few as they may be.

The monocled stag answers well, and she smiles warmly in light of the decision to promote him. For all his insanity and strangeness, the man is eloquent, surely something any powerful creature might admire. Wit is among the most prized possessions one can hold, Illynx believes, and surely a God believes the same. Looking the Lightning Lord, she nods her agreement to the statement, adding in only a single statement to further clarify. "The Edge is also fostered near the Rotunda, where it is believed new found enemies of our herd may hide. Arah and her girls nearly died having no where but the north to turn to. I will not allow my people and their children to suffer so when a tender relaying of words of peaceful notions might better protect them."

The next part of the conversation draws a soft giggle from her, her fondness of the strange little man growing all the larger ever since that afternoon when he had sacrificed himself to spare her. He was kind, beneath all his sinister madness, and she wonders what sort of man he might be were his mind not as fractured as it is; surely he would not be among the Plague, and so she is thankful in ways that the white haired stag is broken, but she also cannot help feeling some sadness for those who reside in dark, dark places as this one.

Her own heart is a bleak place. At least Zikar can manage his shadows with the eloquence of a fine gentleman and the light heartedness of a sparrow in spring. She dwells in them, gleaming for all the murk that surrounds her, but tarnished all the same.

Much to her pleasure, the Haruspex also remembers the matter of their tent, smiling broadly and looking towards the insane stag with great pride.

[ OOC: Late but here! :D Smithers beat my last one, had to edit Zikar in.]


I'm more than a little curious how
you are planning to go about making your amends to the dead
with your halo slipping down, your halo slipping, your halo slipping down
slipping down to choke you now.




image by candy<3
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. 

God of the Spark Posts: 111
Helovian Ancient
Stallion :: Hybrid :: 15.3hh :: Ageless
Admin
#6

.....


God of the Spark


Wit was one thing. Brevity was another. And while the God appreciated both, he appreciated the latter more. No wonder Illynx made him the Haruspex. The God mused as Sin spoke. An army would die before he'd finished explaining battle plan. Maybe that's what happened to old bones and the pretty one. Death by monocled soliloquy. The thought made him grin, but not as much as hearing that Deimos and Illynx were still in command. They wouldn't be forever - he had seen who would take their places next...When he stepped out of the timestream, it wasn't always immediately clear to him when he was; the change in Haruspex might have signaled a change in other leadership too. The God was glad to hear he had arrived before that change occurred.

As if on cue, Illynx in all her golden splendor arrived. As she knelt before him, his emotionless gaze fell upon her, merely waiting for her to rise. He appreciated the effort, appreciated her respect, but did little more than bob his blocky head to demonstrate this. Illynx was not one who required herself to be constantly validated, which was convenient, since he was not the sort to constantly give it.

As Sin spoke of the armistice, the God nodded. He had told the last Haruspex that peace would befall the Basin if they stopped being such assholes to the outside world. Lo and behold, they had finally taken his advice. Amazing what happens when you listen to your God. As Illynx echoed these sentiments, the God exhaled. A world where everyone just got along. What would that be like? How long would this fragile little armistice last? Not long. They could count on that. Only...well. He wouldn't spoil their hope. But maybe he would help guide them, so they didn't get too lost in this this notion of peace-making.

As the conversation turned to the tent, the God nodded approvingly. He'd watched the two at work - watched in fast-forward from the time stream - as they wove and created their structure. Sound-proofing it was an interesting idea. The Basin was already so secluded...Interesting that there still seemed to be a need for privacy amongst such a tightly knit group.

Looking to Illynx now, for only she could make the sort of bargain he had in mind, the God nodded his horned head. Electricity crackled around him, as his piercing gaze narrowed in thought. "You ask for magic usable to anyone, a gift I'm sure you realize is unparalleled in the other herd lands. I can do this for you, at a price. A bargain really. I need a volunteer, willing to give up their magic. But it cannot be just anyone, GildedBlade. Only the magic of your inner council shall do, should you want this tent completed to your specifications."

He looked back to the Haruspex with a wry smile. "Pity this one doesn't have magic. We could have had your tent up and running in no time. Ahh well. I have other plans for you, Zikar-Sin"

Turning back to Illynx, the God regarded her with a cool amusement. "Do we have a deal?"



The God requires a ranked member of the Basin to "willingly" give up their magic.





.
Image Credits
FOXX


Zikar-Sin Posts: 78
Hidden Account
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16hh :: 8
M.E.
#7


....Did that hurt you...?



Ah! And there came his GildedLady at that moment, striding glorious and golden in the wake of her passing mention; although she wasthe Haruspex’s queen, even her own splendor paled in the spark-lit shadow of their mutual patron deity, and she bent her knee just as well before the stocky, powerful god. Sin bowed his own head in her direction, shifting somewhat to give his Lady greater prominence—although, he guessed, it wouldn’t be fortuitous for him to show greater deference to his mortal master than his Heavenly one. A simple, “My Lady,” slipped his tongue in greeting, as long as a glittering, eerie smile in her direction, before bringing his full attention back to the matter at hand.

His breast soared even more as the Lord of Time took in Sin’s speech with relative equanimity; it didn’t even occur to him that his discourse had been too lengthy, his descriptions and assurances stretched miles passed the God’s limit for patience. Poor Sin! But those subtleties slipped even his brilliant mind, and he continued to smile at the God, that grin of earnest, unyielding devotion that sparkled even in his eyes… It was devotion, surely, and nothing malignant or even unwholesome settled in his iris.

In a quick second, however, his countenance changed into something concerned as the Lord of Time demanded a boon that he himself would be unable to grant. Unfortunate really, although the Haruspex had never desired any sort of skill in the magical arts; his passions lay within the natural orders of the physical realm, and though sometimes the mystics found ways to impress him, he was never enthralled enough to study their forms. Quite a shame really—although certainly Sin’s interest piqued as the God of Spark intimated his own…designs with the dappled stallion. Zikar-Sin’s brows rose at the mention; he uttered a quick, “Of course, Sire,” in a level tone of obvious interest; the question of it was slipped under his tongue. He did not think, however, that it would be in his best interest to expressly interrogate the Heavenly body as to his ideas. No, the God will make his intentions clear in due time—and it was up to Sin to live up to whatever was expected of him. Regardless.



...Forgive Me...




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
#8

& not to pull your halo down
around your neck and tug you to the ground, but...
She watches the God with all the attention she can muster, focusing her energy on retaining her splendid expression of rapt focus with the faintest of smiles tugging the corners of her mouth, her neck arched and body angled just ever so slightly enough to display the supple curvature of her figure, still plump in places from the child she had carried within her but diminished in her fairness none the less. He doesn’t seem to be too distraught by the end of a long term, hate filled feud between the land of the Moon – in fact, if she was to be bold in her assumptions, it seemed he almost enjoyed the idea. She supposes it is so for any of the Gods of this land, to wish for peace and happiness among their children, but she was thankful none the less that there was no immediate retaliation for their decision to change the way the game was being played to such a degree. It was, as the God assumed, not a permanent thing; any mortal could learn this knowledge of the Lady just by bothering to get to know her any way at all, much less an omnipotent keeper of time.

She still keeps the full details of her decision to herself – don’t ask, don’t tell. Its not beyond her to argue tactics with a God, of course, but she’d rather not get too involved with her notions of false peace and Trojan kindnesses with the subject of the much desired tent looming so close at hoof.

She takes in his nod and the surge of electricity that swarms across his bi-hued pelt, feeling, not for the first or last time, the thrill of being so near to such a powerful presence. She had tasted of his might on their journey home from the caverns, safe and nourished in his bubble of perfection that had not yet been ruined in Helovia’s timeline, and she could see more of his strength any night the lights flashed through the heavens and struck entire trees into ash. It never grows old, the presence of the Gods, and she sips on his company as if he is a fine beverage, seasoned and expensive, the whiskey suddenly growing too sour as he speaks of the cost for her tent.

Her simple smile fades into a grimace of dislike, golden eyes flickering in their dark rims as she views each face of her council in turn and feels her blood turn into curdled milk. She wants to get mad, but knows better – which leaves her in an unfortunate state of pouting and irritable, her long, dark tail striking through the cool air of the cavern and filling the silence with the audible sounds of her dislike of this deal. She cannot argue that they ask for quite a lot in this deal, skipping over the God’s jibe at Zikar to ponder the weight of his words.

Magic. Who would willingly give up such a thing? What were the boundaries on such a deal? Would it strip whoever sacrificed their strength to greater the herd’s down to a foal once again, powerless and weak, or take from them only one fragment of their might? Would it sever the bonds of magic that held their companions close to their souls? Her eyes narrow and her tongue feels dry and gritty against the folds of her cheeks as she forces herself to swallow and meet the eyes of the God who has just asked of her and her kin a great thing indeed for a magical tent.

She glances over to the Haruspex for but a moment, her concern for her herd evident in the diminished gleam settled into her eyes. "All of their magic, or only part?" she inquires when her gaze resettles on her God, "and what of the bond between companions and master? Is this a magic that might be touched by this arrangement?" Her jaws work against one another at the end of her questions, her tongue grasped between straight white teeth and chewed and chewed until she can manage more words, feeling the desire in her heart relinquish none of its hold no matter how steep the cost. "We have a deal, but I must know what precisely this entails if I am to properly acquisition one of my councilmen."


I'm more than a little curious how
you are planning to go about making your amends to the dead
with your halo slipping down, your halo slipping, your halo slipping down
slipping down to choke you now.




image by candy<3
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. 

Ulrik the Engineer Posts: 235
Deceased atk: 5.5 | def: 9.0 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.1 hh :: 11 HP: 69.5 | Buff: ENDURE
Kirchoff :: Common Hellhound :: Superspeed Tamme
#9
ULRIK the ENGINEER


Ulrik was vaguely aware something was going on, but not until he turned around and walked toward the caves in the back did he realize the gravity of the situation. The God of the Spark, the very being he gave him the ability to make machines, stood, speaking to Illynx and Zikar-sin. The Engineer nodded to both of them before catching the tail end of the God's demands. What he asked for was fair and made perfect sense to the student of physics. Magic for magic. Even steven.

Kirchoff was, for once, silent, looking up at the god with awe in his wolfish face, and he bowed low to the god. Ulrik followed suit, inclining his head low and letting his beard brush against the coat of his lower foreleg. When he stood again, he waited for Illynx to ask her questions and considered his own response. He was of the inner circle, he thought. He was a crafter, of higher rank. He served the herd with both the magic granted by the god and given to him by the god for personal use.

The Engineer took a step forward once Illynx was finished speaking and nodded to her politely, telling her that everything would be fine. She was a beautiful mare and strong, and his eyes caught on the gold filaments of her orbs for a moment, serving as a wonderful distraction. Finally, he cleared his throat and regarded the god with his usual, straight-forward attitude.

"Farenjer and myself made the tent, so I think it only fair that one of us offers our magic to complete what we desire," he said, the graveled and brutal tones of his voice unbiased and fair. "I serve the herd well with my ability to make machines, and I keep the borders safe. My request is that you preserve this ability for the safety and well being of us all. However, I can offer you what I learned. My machines can be assimilated with the living, biological system, and I wish to give this to you in trade for what the herd needs."

Ulrik bowed his head to the god again. "Your choice is what I will follow. Only you command the spark which breathes life into the glorious creations and sentinels at our gates."


Credits: Image by LyrebirdBlue @ DA

(Please tag me in every post)

God of the Spark Posts: 111
Helovian Ancient
Stallion :: Hybrid :: 15.3hh :: Ageless
Admin
#10

.....


God of the Spark



Illynx was quick to offer possibilities to the God's request. He liked that about her. The bond between companion and bonded...well that was certainly interesting. Did she realize the implications of what she asked? That the companion would surely die, if such a magic was taken away? Likely she did not. Though the concept was an interesting one... The God mulled over the idea in his distant mind, trying to determine if in fact this would swing the boon in their favor - if the magic offered was too strong for what it was they asked in return: in short, if he would owe them.

That...wasn't something he particularly enjoyed the thought of.

Just as he was about to speak, a third entered the group. This one he did like, although he was somewhat disappointed that it was in fact Ulrik who had arrived, and not the others. You see, the God had been casually watching the time streams of the Basin inhabitants. Not too closely (spoilers, after all), but just enough to have seen something quite interesting. The image he had seen was murky at best, indicating that the security of that future was hostile and fleeting. He had watched Ulrik create an artificial eye at first...and then a heart next. Both had wondrous effects (or disastrous, depending on how one viewed morality), and now neither would be a reality. If Ulrik gave his magic now, then he would not have it in the future. The stream would be gone.

But, that was his decision. Besides - more interesting things were to come for Ulrik. The God had seen it. Alas - spoilers....

"I accept, Ulrik." The God replied with a wry smile. "Your tent shall have the magic you desire."

The God paused, looking thoughtfully at Ulrik. His gaze sparked with amusement, as he seemed to be rolling around an idea on the tip of his tongue. "Should you wish to regain your ability Engineer, do not bother with my sister or brother. See me. We shall work out another even steven deal." He spoke, plucking the phrase from Ulrik's mind, and liking how it sounded.
"Good day to you, Illynx. And you-" Shifting his saturated gaze to Sin, his smile faded ominously. "I shall be back for you. Try to come a little faster this time, yes?"






.

Image Credits
FOXX



Forum Jump:


RPGfix Equi-venture