the Rift


[PRIVATE] my age has never made me wise

Hotaru the Valkyrie Posts: 295
Outcast atk: 7 | def: 10.5 | dam: 3
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15.3hh :: 6 Years 3 Months HP: 67 | Buff: NOVICE
Alice :: Royal Hellhound :: Acid Brit
#1

Orangemoon.

The seasons were latent in the Basin, as subtle as the passing of the local fauna or the collection of snow into mounds. Evergreens did not subside nor submit to the changing whims of the Earth Lord, forever resplendent in their greenery, proffering shelter and concealing the translucent vicissitudinous of the whimsical seasons and their effects. But the powdered coral dame knew in the depths of her intrinsical mind, in a sardonic corner far from the mirage of sweetness upon her shapely features, that midnight dulled and suppressed all that sought to overcome it in daytime hours. Dusk brought relief, freedom. No duties were placed upon her shoulders while Arya was reliant upon her presence for survival, and no companions had truly been crafted through bond of any sort. It led to silence accompanied only by the shuffling of her inquisitive babe and words crafted from her own silver tongue, barbed edges dismantled in favor of ambrosia sweet confessions when whispering into dusky coral aurals so alike her own.

Exhaustion crept upon her soul like a sloth, persistent but lethargic as it dragged her down a path of sleepless nights and lurid days. Solitude was not something she often longed for, yet the new mother was reticent in her contemplations of slumbering alongside her foal. Awareness was not a trait easily discarded after moons of wild lands and the wary creeping of suspicion and paranoia a constant companion, unwanted baggage to be carried around by outcasts. In time it would pass, her customary slumbering habits restored with the constant reminders of her safety within the herdland. Until then, she would sleeplessly wander the starlit snowdrifts of the aurora's lands.

Cold clung to a hide accustomed to temperate forests, chilling to the bone in a way yet unhardened to. Shivering along the length of salacious curves dipped and sponged in carnation and cream, ivory dancers turned to draw length along the well-traversed path to the steaming pools that fought away the bite of the frost. Stone greeted her passing in symphonic harmonies that rang crisply through the nigh stifling silence of the slumbering glacier land, a rhythmic arrival into the steaming pools.

Sighing in bliss, watching her breath clouds merge with those of the steam, the young maiden stepped slowly into the pool. Warmth lapped at her sides, tresses floating atop the water in a glittering cloud of gold and silver, illuminated by the pin prick starlight overhead and shrouded in steam. Humming softly to herself, confidence swelled in the silence that guaranteed no audience. Soft, silken voice began to take form in the fissures of the broken soundlessness. Euphonious and intrinsic, it beckoned any who had the pleasure of hearing it to the pool lit like ink with dancing silver couples swaying across its expanse. To the champagne and carnation maid composing a siren song in the waters sailors would have once done well to fear.

I'm not a girl, I'm storm with skin

Image Credits
[Image: 515265280ffff]

::Strong like the sea is stormy::

Please only tag starting posts, spars, and threads collecting dust!
Plot with me here!

Rhiannon Posts: 76
Outcast atk: 4.0 | def: 7.5 | dam: 7.0
Mare :: Unicorn :: 16.3 :: 6 Years HP: 62.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Sparrow
#2
Harsh, dual-colored eyes, one a burning-gold and the other a frozen-silver, stared up at the silent night sky, counting the stars that glistened in the thick, dark blanket of the heavens. One, two, three... For a long while the brindled sentinel stood, stationary as a statue made of frozen stone, allowing the frigid breeze of Orangemoon to sweep through her and settle into her bones, making her feel heavy and light all at once.

Four, five, six...

A soft breath pushes past the confines of her ample bosom and furls from her nostrils, cascading upwards in an opaque mist before disappearing into the heavens, but the Soldier's eyes are focused only on the night sky.

Seven, eight, nine...

Tonight, her rage was lessened. It was weaker, softer, far more gentle, subtle, and tamed than it normally was. The demon beneath her skin, the darkness incarnate that lived within her very soul was silent, but Rhiannon could feel it itching beneath her skin, claws digging and dragging at her very being in a demand to be set free, to be unleashed, to tear things apart. Over the years, Rhiannon had learned to hate a myriad of things, from changes in the weather to certain, pathetic individuals, but this thing that resided within her... Oh, how she despised it.

One day she would lose control of the demon within, and few things frightened Rhiannon in such a caliber as that realization. One day, she should snap, and the Brindled Devil would live up to her ominous name.

Ten, eleven, twelve...

Slowly, the horned Soldier took a step forward, joints and ligaments groaning in painful protest to being jostled from their frozen mounts. One hoof dipped forward in the snow, her muscled weight causing the powder to crunch beneath her frame, then another step, and another, until the brindled demon began to wander through the night. She had no destination... Simply to walk until exhaustion took her.

Thirteen, fourteen...

The fifteenth star never crossed her path, never crossed her mind, for something else entirely snapped Rhiannon from her the internal warfare of her mind. Something sweet pulled her from her wistful reverie, and the mare's strong head snapped upwards, ears swiveling forward at attention as a sound so beautiful filled her head, stealing away everything. No demons, no darkness, no anger filled her head, and for once, there was blissful silence... Save for the siren's song that tugged her forward as though a noose had been fitted tightly around her neck.

Rhiannon breathed in sharply, hooves leading her forward, helpless against the song played out before her, the crimped, unruly strands of her frosted mane and tail swaying in the frigid breeze. Her eyes, normally so harsh and remote, were filled with nothing but genuine curiosity, and it was with brief realization that she understood where her legs were taking her; to the hot springs.

Arriving to the soothing pools of steaming water, the brindled Soldier's eyes traveled from the shoreline to the expanse of the pool, and there, beneath the moonlight and the shimmering stars, bathed a figure so positively decadent that Rhiannon almost wondered if she had died and gone to heaven. The mare's dark lips parted, dual-toned eyes wide as she stared at the she-goddess, eyes unabashedly roaming every inch of strawberry roan and carnation speckled white of the bathing beauty, absorbing every strand of silvery tresses that floated within the steaming water from root to end.

".... Holy fuck." The words escaped Rhiannon's lips before she could so much as think about her lack of eloquence, but in the end, she didn't care. Holy hell, holy fuck. Was she dreaming? This had to be a dream. Never in all of her years, never in her wildest dreams could she have imagined such a delightful creature standing before her, wet and glistening beneath the moonlight and oh, so divine...

And just for the taking.



Hotaru the Valkyrie Posts: 295
Outcast atk: 7 | def: 10.5 | dam: 3
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15.3hh :: 6 Years 3 Months HP: 67 | Buff: NOVICE
Alice :: Royal Hellhound :: Acid Brit
#3

Silence is the only companion she has in the inky pools her bodice is submerged within. A companion she chases away with the softness of her harmonies, lyrics she cannot recall but in the faintest of memories coming to pale kissers with the confidence of age-old lullabies. A passion renewed, a method of teasing and harm once employed by her overly righteous twin dismantled into the love it was once more. How many seasons had faded on in blurred memories, soundless and broken? How long since her vocals had tuned and tempted anything aside simple lyrics and greetings? It was an old friend that greeted her, swirling audibly just as the steam did physically. A comfort. Returning to a home that she'd never had until Arya, until the snowclad mountains she fell in love with readily.

The maiden hadn't anticipated any others to be awake at that hour, with the moon full and pregnant in her mantle and the auroras blazing proudly amongst thickly dotted skies. Perhaps the soldiers with the night shift, but those were too far along the borders to catch the softness of her euphonic lyrics. Pale cream and seafoam green eyes slipped beneath carnation lids, framed in their shuttered picturesque displays by long snowy lashes that kissed each cheek adoringly. Lips move slowly, as if in a daze, songful words dripping like honey from snowy kissers, deliberate and relaxed.

In such a peaceful, ruminating atmosphere she had created around herself like a weaver crafting blankets, the approach of another was undetected. Then again, any scent that could have swept into her nares was clouded by the scentless warmth of the steam, and any swish of hoof through snow shrouded by her own singing. It would have been shameful in any other fashion, but such alertness was unwarranted in her homeland, though that topic had already been covered in her musings prior to that moment. What alerted her to the newcomer's presence was...well...abrupt.

"Holy fuck."

A startled gasp shatters the aura of her music, a vase dropped from an end table to break into a thousand lurid derivatives of remembrance. Water sloshes around her as she spins towards the source of the expletive, feminine in nature and almost awed. Golden hair slides over her eyes almost shyly, embarrassed to have been caught embracing her hobby for the first time since she was but a weanling. Though...she is certainly not disgruntled by the one doing the interrupting. Her own eyes delve over the deeply colored knight, and her lips curl up in a mixture of shyness and salacious appreciation.

"I could say the same," she purred, though there is a certain vulnerability in her eyes. It's almost a shock to see another roaming the lands with bichromatic eyes, but they are stunning, one shade echoing her own. The young lass is gorgeous in a very striking, intimidating way. Her very aura screams power and demands attention, while Hotaru's elegance is more eye-catching and seductive. They stare at one another for a few long moments, merely eating one another with their eyes shamelessly before Hotaru makes a soft beckoning noise in her throat.

"Would you like to join me?" she offers, sliding further into the water slowly, never turning nor removing her gaze from the blunt beautiful mare. "I'd love your company," is her following coo, falling into zones of bashful and innocent. There is a side of her that still exists in those ways, though they are far more readily concealed than previously, but it is employed- though honestly- to attract the striking figure and lure her into her proximity.

I'm not a girl, I'm storm with skin

Image Credits
[Image: 515265280ffff]

::Strong like the sea is stormy::

Please only tag starting posts, spars, and threads collecting dust!
Plot with me here!

Rhiannon Posts: 76
Outcast atk: 4.0 | def: 7.5 | dam: 7.0
Mare :: Unicorn :: 16.3 :: 6 Years HP: 62.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Sparrow
#4
There was something about taking a fellow being by surprise that was just so utterly empowering, and normally Rhiannon would do everything in her capabilities to continue to feed that gnawing, ravenous, beastly hunger for strength and control that lived within her raven-clad breast. Much to her mild surprise, for her attention was mostly given to the creature standing within the hot springs, the soldier felt no desire to continue to feed that demon. No... The startled gasp that emanated from the carnation-born goddess was awe-inspiring, and the brindled knight was helpless but to slide one hoof through the powdery snow in an attempt to grow closer, to see more, to smell and taste more of this exquisite, ethereal specimen laid bare and ripe before her.

So lost in her own head as she was, Rhiannon hardly noticed her lack of eloquence, and instead focused on the way that the she-specter's eyes, a beautiful bi-color of rich cream and vibrant seafoam, flutter beneath snowy lashes. She doesn't miss the subtle curl of the bathing mare's lips, or the inviting glint that she catches shining brightly in the carnation-clad beauty. Gods above... If 'beautiful' could be personified, it was standing right in front of her.

'I could say the same.' And hot damn if that wasn't the best thing Rhiannon had heard all day. The golden-haired goddess' voice caused heat to rise in the pit of her loins, and Nonnie is a helpless sailor trapped beneath the siren's sway... But she did not want rescuing, for her salvation lay right before her very eyes.

'Would you like to join me?' Holy fuck, yes. Never had she ever been so sure of anything. 'I'd love your company.'

A carnal, fervid smirk pulled Rhiannon's dark lips upwards, and the soldier dips her head forward in a mock bow. Silvery, frosted strands of crimped and curled ebony tresses slide down the brindled mare's thick neck, dual-toned eyes of steaming, concupiscent gold and sensual, frozen silver eye the doe crafted of carnations and roses like a delicacy.

"... If my lady so demands, then I'm powerless but to obey." The words are cloaked in desire, in lust, in yearning and sensuality, and as the coral princess shifts to provide room for the brindled knight, the water sloshing about her ample curvature and uniquely covered hide, Rhiannon's ebony hooves lead her from the chilly, white powdered snow into the warm, soothing caress of the hot spring waters. The heat of the water is only rivaled by the scalding passion inside of her, and as her long legs pull the soldier's body through the pool, Rhiannon stretches out her neck, nostrils flaring to suck in deep breaths of the goddess and oh, so hesitantly she brushes her lips against a coral roaned shoulder.

Nonnie's eyes stay locked on rich cream and lusty seafoam. "I am Rhiannon, m'lady... Soldier of the Basin. But you may call me Nonnie, if you so desire. I've lived here my entire life, and not once have I ever laid eyes upon such a decadent creature like yourself." The brindled knight pauses in her words, long enough so that she can once again lip at a savory shoulder, her touch sliding to trace and nibble upon the princess' elegant spine. "Do me the honor of telling me your name, m'lady? And... Please; finish your song. I am powerless and laid bare before the caress of your words."



Hotaru the Valkyrie Posts: 295
Outcast atk: 7 | def: 10.5 | dam: 3
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15.3hh :: 6 Years 3 Months HP: 67 | Buff: NOVICE
Alice :: Royal Hellhound :: Acid Brit
#5

There is a tension that hovers between them, a taut crimson wire of fate, vibrating with the intensity of their matched stares. Electric, alive with the meeting shrouded by steam and snow, hidden away from other eyes. A record written in the storybooks with only the pair of them as witnesses. It holds its power even as the soldier draws closer, hoof grazing the surface of the snow and stepping upon the stone like a death knoll, a final signature on a scroll of damnation. Their gazes are locked, unmoving. Not wanting to even if they had been given the choice. Ebony body gleams in the moonlight, accentuating silver hues and brindles until she glows like the luna herself. And Hotaru is captivated, pinned beneath that strong gaze like a butterfly to a canvas, a mouse beneath a cat's paw. Generally the damsel was a fighter, despised feeling helpless or cornered, but this? No, the feeling in that moment was bordering on levels of sexy. Power glimmered in bichromatic eyes, in the swell of each muscle already earned despite her lack of seasons.

A shiver danced on a canvas warmed by water at the smirk that curled ebonite lips, a little breathless. It was exquisite, an expression she wouldn't mind viewing repeatedly. Dual-crowned brow dipped slowly towards Hotaru, a rapid butterfly pace setting up in her heart. She was no Queen, no royalty to be bowed to or obeyed, no matter what she desired in her future. It was exhilarating, and she was captured by that wicked smirk and lowered crown, captivated by the power held in such an impeccably crafted frame. One that advances towards her with the lithe strength and promise of a puma. Slides into the water slowly, the ripples touching Hotaru before anything else and making her heart race and lids flutter. Beckoning, shy, but totally enraptured.

Sultry words slipped forth to caress Hotaru's skin, bindings that wrapped around her and held her fast in her position. A breath escapes her and she feels so different, so weak, but it's exciting. "Then come along soldier," she croons, barely a breath, a murmur. Looping the noose around the devil's neck and pulling her in, drowning her, because she wants that fire that she sees burning in her eyes. The sheer want in the stranger's voice makes her hotter than any hotspring could, and in her own beckoning lyrics there is a sensuality. It's a promise, a come-hither, cloaked in covetousness. She wants the brindled soldier, wants the serpentine words and deep rumble of budding possession. Wants the eloquent words and delicious curve of a muscular physique.

They slide together into the pool, the stranger coming nearer and nearer until she's trapped, cornered, with no desire to find a way out. Breaths intermingle, sharing scents. Hotaru has fought and sparred and bled upon the ground for the right to be seen as something powerful, as something more than the gender so many disregarded. There was a reminder in the pit of her stomach to fight, to show this seductive stranger that she was no coward to be trampled over, and her eyes were bright with it. Don't let her underestimate you, she tried to remind herself, but she simply couldn't. Hotaru felt like a maiden in a silken white dress, pressed to the mattress with a knightly villain pressing her into them, ready for the debauchery hanging like a smog of promise in the eyes staring her down. She will merely comfort herself with the knowledge that under that delicately woven dress, there is a silver dagger strapped to one slender thigh.

Electricity blooms on her shoulder and she gasps softly at the warm brush of muzzle on her sensitive skin. Shivering beneath the touch, the she-wolf let her lips move to caress the arch of the brindled warrior's neck, tracing down the wordlessly eloquent curve of it. They stare into one another, not simply gazing at surface features. Touching, tense, bodies shivering and buzzing, alight with attraction and appreciation for the canvas beneath respective lips. Words like hickory smoke surround her, pull her deeper, and fill her nares with the thick, rich scent of lust. Husky voice makes her purr softly in her throat, lips wrapping around an errant strand of rich black mane and pulling playfully, hoping to encourage Rhiannon closer to her body with the movement.

An amber jewel glints beneath the water, innocent on a golden chain, drawing her attention where it connects to her tresses. A reminder of her prowess, her cunning. Reminds her that no matter how she acts, she has the strength to put anyone in their place. Not that she'd want to put Rhiannon in any place but right beside her. Or maybe in front of her so she can eat up her delicious frame every moment. Instead she lets her worries fade into the water and disappear, tilting her aurals up towards the taller maiden, feeling dwarfed and pleasantly crowded. Hangs on every word, bichromatic eyes glinting in the starlight as she steps boldly closer to brush their chests together.

Lips close over the skin stretched over her spine, and she gasps and hums in her throat, eyes clouded and vaguely impressed. "I should be glad then, I wouldn't want any other pretty airhead stealing you away before I arrived," she cooed, lips twisting into a smirk that twisted femininely innocent features into something darker. Seductive. Powerful. "I'd have to...remove them, for someone so striking," she breathed, winking with starlight lashes. Her name is called into question and she reaches up to the taller mare to nibble lightly at the space between jaw and neck, meeting every seductive touch with one of her own, step for step, toe to toe. Unafraid.

"My name is Hotaru, Phantom," she elaborated, remembering a time when her title would have been Soldier as well. But Arya came first. Didn't mean her mother couldn't have some fun with an exquisite specimen. Her tentative nature threatens to rear its head as she is beckoned to sing once more, but then an easy smile stretches her lips and she quiets her voice until it is a melody meant only for Rhiannon's aurals instead of the expanse of the pools. Smoothly her chords warm back up into the chorus, weaving golden strands around the pair of them, pulling them closer and tighter as Hotaru stares unabashedly into Rhiannon's eyes.

As her song tapers, lyrics fading in a haunting reprise of a familiar errant verse from earlier in the piece, so her smile widens. "I don't sing for just anyone you know," she whispers, movements slow and languid as she strides through the water, circling Rhiannon so closely their hides brush repeatedly, pausing and slowing as her flank presses to the soldier's brindled shoulder. Glancing over her own, back towards the taller mare, her grin turns wicked, promising awful, wonderful things. "I should have known the mares of the Basin would be so much better. But...who is to say you don't woo every mare you find in the night?" And she slides forward until they are no longer touching, curving delicately, elegantly until they are face to face once more. She is a devious thing, and the mouse is no longer caught beneath the cat's claws, but slipped free without the cat becoming aware. Who was to say the cat was worthy of catching her fully? "I don't take fondly to sharing," she purred, silk draped over a dagger's edge, a promise of death beneath a lacy sheath of sincerity.

I'm not a girl, I'm storm with skin

Image Credits
[Image: 515265280ffff]

::Strong like the sea is stormy::

Please only tag starting posts, spars, and threads collecting dust!
Plot with me here!

Rhiannon Posts: 76
Outcast atk: 4.0 | def: 7.5 | dam: 7.0
Mare :: Unicorn :: 16.3 :: 6 Years HP: 62.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Sparrow
#6
Not once did her predatory gaze waver or shift from that of the carnation-hued maiden, the gilded, sought-after prize, the gift that was laid bare before her with the only steps of unwrapping to be done. Rhiannon's oculars narrowed only in the slightest degree as the elusive vixen's eyes grew wider, and a look entered seafoam and rich cream. That look... Oh, how it riled up everything that the brindled soldier was. It spoke of hidden strength, of hidden heart, of power and prowess, of cunning and deception... Oh, the things this beautiful creature must have seen, must have done. Every string that had been delicately tied to her resolve began to unravel upon being on the receiving end of such powerful conviction, every woven strand plucked and pried apart, until there was nothing left except for a very obvious desire.

A coy thing, the rosy princess was... But Rhiannon wasn't a fool. She knew better than to underestimate the seemingly delicate musculature, the coy smiles and shy glances, the gentle curve of delightfully delicious features.

Boldly, the lithe siren strikes, and Rhiannon is immobile to her charm, to her seduction, to her song which lacked vocalized words. No... This elusive charm, this deceitful queen sung with her eyes alone, and Rhiannon was drowning in piercing green and cream. Their bosoms brush against one another briefly, a teasing caress of what could be, smooth and enticing and the Brindled Devil felt her loins alight on fire.

Seductive witch...

"If by your command alone," Rhiannon whispered, feeling fire light along her flesh with each toying, playful, teasing nip and nibble to her jaw and neck, and causing a sudden chill to overtake the entirety of her body despite the fact that she stood, chest-deep, in the warm waters of the hot springs. "Then I'll rid any unworthy airhead for you." And she would, if only this wayward phantom would touch her again, would speak to her again.

The siren had sung, the sailor was caught... Now, to see if the siren would be merciful to her prey... But, honestly, Rhiannon wasn't one for mercy, anyway.

Play hard, play dirty... Or don't play at all.

Then, the celestial beauty introduces herself, giving a name to such a beautiful face. Hotaru. A creature of light. Never was Rhiannon a sucker for fate. She didn't believe in such nonsense, such tomfoolery or idiocy, but this... Oh, Gods. This. This Hotaru, this light... It silenced her demons. Here, in the path and visual observance of the roaned, coral goddess, Rhiannon's demons were quiet. They did not claw, howl, and bite beneath her flesh, demanding to be released. They were silent. They were tame, as if knowing that Hotaru's light could vanquish their darkness with a simple thought, a simple whim.

Slowly Rhiannon's head lowers, and her eyes, dark and needy and dangerous, watch the maiden's movements with sharp, keen eyes. It was a game... But one that the dark knight played willingly. One she would always play, so long as it was with Hotaru. The soldier is circled, observed and stripped bare beneath bi-colored eyes so much like her own, but Rhiannon didn't care. She was used to the stares, the observations, the scrutiny...

"Then, perhaps, I'm special." Was her quick, short answer, finding no reason to beat around the bush. Hotaru's brushing caresses, her touches, her challenges were far too strong to ignore, an odor that she had to follow... And Rhiannon was always one to rise to a challenge, beast or beauty. "Nor do I, m'lady... Nor do I. Especially when I see something so enticing, so... Captivating. I am an appreciator of beauty, a connoisseur of fine things, but you... A canvas created from the Gods themselves, I'm afraid. Beauty personified..." Perhaps she was rambling, perhaps it was whatever spell Hotaru had thrust upon her, but the soldier didn't care.

A rueful, lust-driven, dangerous smirk crossed Rhiannon's lips, and her vocals dropped an octave lower, her voice dripping with promise. With lust. With desire. A promise of good things to come. "I have come across many a maiden, Hotaru," she purred, head lifting, earthen, spiraled horns standing proudly towards the borealis filled heavens, "But none of them captured me so completely as you have. None of them have been worthy enough to stand beside me... To stand with me."

And that was true. Yes, she had met and attempted to woo other females, but none of them would hold her interest. Not one of them captivated her and intrigued her quite like this mysterious siren that stood much to far away, none of them could emanate such prowess, cunning, and beauty all at once. Rhiannon wanted someone who could be her equal, who would stand beside her through thick and thin, trial and error, who could be her strength, who could be her light to chase away all of the darkness, to chase away her demons...

... Could Hotaru be that? Would she want to be?




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