the Rift


[OPEN] The Autumn Effect

Erebos Posts: 474
Aurora Basin General atk: 7.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.1hh :: Four HP: 75.5 | Buff: DANCE
Orsino :: Plain Kitsune :: Dark Illusions & Enyo :: Common Griffon :: Draining Clutch Heather
#1
A crusade of the unknown embarked, hastened, and claimed his lanky limbs, clamoring, beckoning, chasing across the winds until he’d followed each whim, each impulse, each ricocheting curiosity – rushing past tall oak and vivid, overhanging willows, marching by bulrushes, lakes, creeks, and streams, dabbling and springing amongst the clover fields and lavender beds. When they couldn’t contain his interest, because it billowed, pervaded, and stormed through the measure of his strides and the glow of his stare, he charged onward, a blazing, blue inferno of glee, of merriment, of portended strength and augured opportunities. His forged endeavors and explorations sent him across the plains, and for a few tender moments he thought to find Adelric and his hidden Falls, but much like the namesake, he didn’t know where they were, where to go, or what to look for. The notion was disappointing and dismissed soon after, amidst distractions and melancholies, because as he ghosted and coasted over ancient trails and spider paths, a whole new world sprung before his gaze. Like many before him, he ceased all movement and merely gaped (as he was prone to do in the midst of surprise and wonder), jaw-slackened, eyes rounded, awe-inspired as he loomed in the consuming expanse of the Veins of the Gods.

Siren war-cries: it called and crooned, hummed and hymned, a blistering, corrosive scheme of luminescent foam and debris, a holy, devout ruin of a once proud regime. Eerie, enigmatic, twisted and contorted in mysterious, labyrinthine hues, spilling, brewing, fermenting in the coats and wiles of the divine, the bubbling, blue magma was an open serenade to his frame; willing, coaxing, enticing, alluring, beguiling him closer, so if he peeked over its edge it may froth, sparkle and fizz beneath his maw. The temptation bloomed and stole away at his soul, and he may have composed the actions right then and there, had other senses and materials of the dusky, hallowed halls not absconded his interest. He raised his cranium to piece together the image of the island, broken, disheveled, constantly consuming the cooling, brooding lava, so one day it would be a heady fortress, a brilliant behemoth, a monstrous Colossus, a revival of the haughty, of the mighty, of the audacious. A narrow ledge, a bridge, a pathway to the beatific, celestial, consecrated and sanctified, inspired invitations to touch, to transpire, to gaze upon the sacred and blessed, become one of the many christened and anointed.

But was he worthy to even cross this threshold? He’d seen a God once – one cherished, beloved, licked and devoured by flames, and he’d yearned to emulate the beast with all of its amazing powers, intimidating prowess, and blazing infernos. Pieces of the lithe lad had longed to come apart, had burst within his little frame, had whispered and screamed in the din, but heard by no one else. The Sun God had looked at him, then turned away, as if he’d been unsuitable, undeserving, unfit for the wild, untamed threads of embers and midnight oils – but something deep inside his core, his determination, his resolution, pricked and preened, yearned to find a way to show the world he was worthy. Spurned, adamant, and persistent, a gleaming Cheshire, a seething Machiavellian spirit, the scion’s chest puffed, one breath inhaled, and aimed to set one foot upon the weary overpass.


Erebos
Take just what I came for
x - x

Morir Posts: 79
Up For Adoption atk: 4.5 | def: 6.5 | dam: 3.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.2 :: 4 HP: 54 | Buff: NOVICE
Arwydd :: Raven :: None Adoptable
#2


Events had not unfolded in a way the dark stallion had anticipated. For starters he was haunting the landscapes of Helovia quite aimlessly, unable or perhaps unwilling to settle his mind on any one goal or purpose; simply roaming, stopping when the legs grew tired and tolerated company whenever his loneliness grew too intense to stomach. When anger at the world, at himself, at others or anger just because clouded his judgment he took it out on whoever might be nearby, whether innocent wildlife, rude equid or the features of the land itself. Many a tree had been left ravaged and bleeding after encountering the unbreakable diamond of his trident, to weep their autumnal tears in lament of beauty lost...

Yet this vagabonding lifestyle was not what Morir had been dreaming of when he exiled himself from his old herd. It hadn't been a part of his plan to become a hermit, withdrawn and solitary as a ghost of the past - and neither had he desired this persona of someone cruel and fearsome that was growing steadily more attached to him. Was it the grim mask made of death and decay he wore that made him such? He wouldn't put it past plausibility to consider a ghostly elk to be haunting him, shoving him off an intended path in order to instead exact revenge for desecrating its remains... He didn't feel as though someone else was controlling his actions however, leaving the theory with a feeling of slight paranoia. What was he really doing then? Could it be that this brutal, unfeeling and reckless personality was his true nature, so different from the sensitive colt that had hidden behind his mothers rump whenever a stranger came by, ready to shed tears at a moments notice if a harsh word was spoken? It was true that he had changed since he lost his parents, true that he had learned to swallow emotion and wear a mask of indifference in the face of cruelty, but the extent of this change had even the hellion startled.

Now he stood before the shrines of the gods, a mute shadow looming above the broken temples as light from both heaven and earth danced across his hide, lost and confused. He didn't try to speak to them; they were not gods of his, even though he once had thought himself in the presence of the Lady Luck herself in her guise of dark days and veiling mists. He would not set aside the spirits he had been taught to worship and fear; he simply felt calmer when standing here, surrounded by the churning heat of the earth and close to something that was bigger and more eternal than himself.

Swept up in his own thoughts, the twice-crowned stag payed little heed as the sound of light footsteps alerted him to the arrival of another. He was not bothered, not today; he simply curled the long, tasseled tail around a leg and shifted slightly, intentionally allowing a split hoof to scrape over stone such that a clacking sound spread throughout the air... he wouldn't want to startle whoever it was that had come to pray, and inadvertently create a situation where bloodshed was required. He shuddered to think what the high lords of the lands would think of that.

Unless they were bloodthirsty and craved sacrifice? He hadn't considered that...

@[Erebos]


"I embrace the thorny rose to my chest and
fall into the crimson sea
I continue dancing upon the
piled bodies until I die"


♦ Please tag Morir in all replies! 

Amaris Posts: 299
World's Edge Philosopher atk: 5.5 | def: 8 | dam: 6.5
Mare :: Hybrid :: 16h :: 4 years HP: 70 | Buff: NOVICE
Dramyrth :: Gold Dragon :: Fire Breath & Frost Breath Whit
#3
A single soul guided the belle this day, blue like the sky above her, and like the flames that rolled in streams, down the great mountain of the Veins. The scent of sulphur crinkled her scaled nostrils, her eyes blinked at the burning heat that singed at her eyelashes, and the girl questioned her guide for today his choice in leading her this way today. Never seen the blood of the Gods before, the blue commented to her, his spiritual light dancing along the surface of the similarly blue lava. Her wings stretched wide either side of her, and she spied the small path that wound its way up the mountain below her. Why not simply fly to the platform at the top, to where the shrines were, to where she might observe all that laid around her in one sweep of her crown. I can already do that from here, she thought, and instead opted to plant her hooves upon the thin path that would take her in only two directions; up, or down.

The girl didn't know what had caused her to overlook the company that soon approached up the mountain. As her own bodice turned to make its way up the mountain, the belle's ears flicked back and forth, at first unconvinced that there were footsteps other than her own walking this path. It wasn't until she had climbed quite a way that her draconic companion alerted her to the presence of the unicorn a ways behind her, and another at the peak of the mountain ahead of her. Arriving at the cusp of the shrines, the girl stepped to the side slightly, golden eyes surveying the land, catching a glimpse of movement following her, and the bulk of a shadowy form ahead.

Who were they? One was young, a dark roan steed whose eyes were reminiscent of the glowing embers that flowed around them. The other was darker still, and much larger, streaked with pale slashes and adorned with a skull that hid beneath it a mystery. What had possessed him to fit it to his own skull, to hide all beneath - was he disfigured, or grossly malformed beneath? Or did he use it as a more literal mask, one that could not show any flaws, unlike the carefully guarded façade the golden belle wore. Her mask wasn't as good as her mother's, it slipped into one of uncertainty too often for her comfort - but she practised it now with the same determination she always began a social interaction with. Her eyes showed a faint hint of innocent curiosity, her ears pricked forward as her wings shuffled down by her sides. Upon her back alighted the blue glowing spirit, casting his warm light around the area, cooing his gentle song in greeting.

"Hello," the girl spoke quietly, eyes moving from one form to the other, her voice quiet enough to be ignored should they wish it, but polite enough so that she fulfilled the social requirements of the situation.
Amaris
minicooper93402 @ flickr & larfsalot @deviantart

@[Erebos]
No need to mirror my post length - I have a horrible case of the rambly writer syndrome!
I like being tagged!
You are always welcome to 'try' and use force/magic on Amaris, but similar to spar posts, leave it to me to decide how the damage is taken please~

Öde Posts: 145
Aurora Basin Disciple atk: 5 | def: 10 | dam: 5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17 hh :: 4.5 HP: 64.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Blu
#4


There is always something that drives us to live, and ideally, to thrive. Each individual has a set goal, a passion, an endless need for something. It is the key of their soul, a seed planted within the very framework of their body since babehood and each unfurling leaf an emotion and an experience reaching out of it. For many, it can easily be chalked up to seeking immortality. Be it fame, or family, the short expanse of mortal existence leaves a craving for permanence that echoes beyond even the decaying of our bones.

Öde had an urge to spread himself into eternity, both as a foal, but especially as a wraith. It was a maddening sensation from which he could not run, could not hide, could not ignore. It stoked the fires that pumped his blood and pulled in his breath. He was a slave to the desire to repopulate, a need which bore itself like an insatiable gnawing in his gut.

He hungered.

It was this very drive that brought the wolf-horse to the treacherous path of the gods' mountain. He hesitated at its base, nose quivering in the passing squalls. There was plenty of game to be had in this realm, and surely riper places would bear more fruits than this desolate church. Yet, the wolf did not simply seek flesh and blood. He sought souls, and this was the best place of any to find them laid out bare.

He smiled, his tongue flicking between his teeth as he leapt forward, hooves easily scuttling up the cliffside. Up, up, and around, arriving just in time for the welcome party. Hello, my name is death.

He arrived in a splendor of black hair and red eyes. A monster and mayhem he stood before them, his horn pierced in a grotesque way between the fur of his wolf's crown. It was a crown that measured nearly the size of them, though it faded into the sickly, bony body of a small colt. By all argument, he should not have been able to support the headdress, yet he seemed not to struggle as he stood, doing little more than watching.

Then he grined.
The soft skin of his maw twitched over saliva-glistened fangs, quivering up to his muzzle's mid-section, to his eyes, his jawline... but then continuing to climb, higher, further, stopping only when his entire face split open like a crocodile.

"Hi" he greeted easily, his skull splitting with a yawn as he spoke. The weary movement passed down into a shake of his coat part way through, causing his head to spin sideways, where his gentle motion rapidly became a swift attempt to consume Amaris. Much like the infamous stretch becoming a hug tactic, so Öde's mouth gape, spurred into greater success by the sudden propulsion of his hind limbs.


EVERYTHING THAT KILLS- ME MAKES ME FEEL ALIVE
Tag me only if starting a new thread.
Magic or force permitted any time, including death - no decapitating.
Be aware active magic doesn't work in his vicinity due to his magic!


62.5/62.5 HP
Helovia Hard Mode

Tandavi The Fire Dancer Posts: 245
World's Edge Nurse atk: 6.5 | def: 9 | dam: 4
Mare :: Equine :: 16.1 :: 5 HP: 65 | Buff: NOVICE
Natraj :: Plain Kitsune :: Fire Charks
#5


The brightest light casts the darkest shadows. She has often wondered at this notion, turned it over in her mind, played with it in the way of a child who cannot quite figure out how a new toy works, but keeps coming back to it again and again. Could darkness ever truly be expunged? Even when the sun hung at its zenith, a black cloud haunted the space beneath her feet, taunting her with the promise of nighttime and the return of her terror, the advent of fear.

Her brother does not care for these philosophical problems, and as he pads beside her he derails her thoughts, instead filling her head with thoughts of the cool oasis and warm desert sand. Again, petulantly, he asks her Why? frustrated that she would see fit to interrupt his nap and drag him back to the shrines of the gods. He can still remember Ampere's words, the venom she spat and the stupidity of her fat, stupid face... he snarls quietly at the very thought, turning to Tandavi and demanding, again, Why. She shrugs, her mind still unfocused, though drifting now toward something else. A scent in the air, the stink of something rotten which lingers along the narrow path.

Ahead of her a shadow creeps, flickering blue in the heat of lava; she pauses for a moment, and the boy does too, realization hitting them both at once, a sudden terror gripping their collective hearts. They're all gone... they were all gone... She can remember the stench of poison and rot, the unquenchable evil in the monster's eyes. Paralysis grips her, the desire to run pounding war drums in her ears, and above it a low hum growing louder, more urgent, the voice of Natraj: What if someone else is there? What if it desecrates the shrines of the Gods? What if- what if-

What if will get her nowhere, and she pushes the myriad of possibilities out of her mind. She can feel her legs begin to move, mechanical muscles forced into submission; she continues up the path, now walking, now running, now stumbling in her haste, deaf to all but the pounding of her heart. The shadow has crossed over the lip of the hill and out of her sight, and as she follows in its wake a scene comes into view, bodies and voices and a moment of horror as the small girl watches her world threaten to crumble inside of grotesque, oversized jaws.

"Amaris!"

x - x

o. pixel pony credit to tamme
o. permission granted to use force and magic on Tavi
o. only tag me in opening posts, please!


Erebos Posts: 474
Aurora Basin General atk: 7.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.1hh :: Four HP: 75.5 | Buff: DANCE
Orsino :: Plain Kitsune :: Dark Illusions & Enyo :: Common Griffon :: Draining Clutch Heather
#6
The air failed to crackle with worship, veneration, or reverence, fought and brought a searing tension, snapping, hastening, bidding the eerie sonnets and the cool, blue lava waters to a briny fixation; his eyes loosened from their riveting hold, narrowing their curious gaze to the ruffled contortions outward and beyond, something lurking in the distance, stones moved, rumbled, misfired and fled from their prior places. What poised within the outer threads of a god’s eye: Another designing sacrifices and immolations? A beast parading over the decrepit shrines, shaping, sculpting, perusing and devouring their further demise? A wraith, threatening desecration of the mighty, the fallen, the divine? His zealous inquisition stole over the fabrics of the real reasons he’d arrived, turning his lanky frame away from the veins and land bridge of the Sun God and his fellow deities, attempting to decipher what other phantom lurked in the hallowed void, harkening into the shrouded shadows with pieces of bravery and courage. “Hello?” A flash of ivory caught his attention, and his stare followed, deciphering the outline of a skull fashioned to another’s head, as if it were his own, carrying his trophy in a masque of black death and infidel shrouds, and the lightest, smallest gasp escaped his body – remembering Zikar Sin’s token, bleached cranium from their lessons, but this was not equine. Ominous, foreboding, too pronged, gesturing upwards to the sky without the nuptials of their brow rapiers, and then closely followed by more and more spears trickling down an obsidian maw; he almost queried the stranger again, wondering how he’d fit it over his head, if he’d killed, slain, massacred the previous owner (how, why), but one more distraction prolonged inaction, and he was lost to constant inquisitiveness.

Something he’d never truly seen flourished before his eyes, blinding amongst the edges of the forlorn temples, golden, winged, draconic even though Cera had seen they no longer existed in such a massive fashion; perplexed and confused, befuddled and spellbound, his head tilted to a massive degree, and the audacious splendor of his childish splendor burst over the grounds, fumbling and toiling through the broken spires of spirits. “Hi!” Seemingly without pause, he brandished the exuberant query over the pebbles and lava, streamlined into the gilded plates of her coated armor. “What are you?” Was she a dragon, swept up from the glories of time and fables, breathing fire over towns, villages, herds and rising to her old Throat home, claiming each towering block of sand and dirt for herself (he thought it would be neat to be a dragon, a colossus of the wind, the sky, the fires of hell)? On closer inspection, she seemed to be a mixture, horselike and then endowed with scales of legends, but he wasn’t near enough to figure out the massive conundrum. The little scion began to roam forwards, advancing through the overpass and the crumbling fortress, when more strangers flickered into the expanse – and his blood thinned to a nefarious degree, pulled and entangled with the sinister embers of the oncoming cretin.

Had he been born within the trickling ills of the corrosive pestilence, he may have been able to surmise the distinction of overwhelming, overbearing, overpowering perversion, the maddening, crawling, slithering deception and disease, noticed the signs, the symptoms, of the barbarous infection. Instead, Erebos ceased all movement and simply stared at the bestial formation, the long limbs of a colt, but the head of a wolf, bristling with vehemence, with venomous predilection, extending cordial greetings but meaning absolutely none of them. He was almost paralyzed with indecision, unsure, unaware of what the infidel plotted or planned, frozen with one foreleg extended, ears pricked, eyes widened, breath fizzling and renewed with each passing moment. One more entered the fray, off into the distance, sprinkles of sienna and gold, shouting Amaris, and he wondered if she was about to enter the realm of stalwart formations (and if she was, he would too). Driven to action, he hastened closer, advancing, and though the youngest and smallest within the peculiar crowd, he bellowed over the divine horizon without prayer, without grace - only the proclamation of intrepidity brewing in his chest. “Hey – leave her alone!” Brow narrowed, he swiftly proceeded, with naught but the strength of his valor and the coolness of his convictions.


Erebos
Take just what I came for
x - x

Morir Posts: 79
Up For Adoption atk: 4.5 | def: 6.5 | dam: 3.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.2 :: 4 HP: 54 | Buff: NOVICE
Arwydd :: Raven :: None Adoptable
#7


Small footsteps were accompanied by a small voice, thin and hesitant as it bleated a word that sounded more like query than greeting. The towering beast, in no mind of eating foal that day, turned an ear towards the youth and contemplated whether to respond or not. Most of his thoughts were still focused inward, mulling and turning over matters that to him seemed of great consequence; after a heartbeat or two he offered only a non-committal grunt, somewhere between a hello and a snort, and ignored the child.

It would seem that the deserted shrines of the gods were still busily traversed however, because no sooner had the disguised vagabond turned away than another arrived, bringing tastes of sulfur and flame upon the wind and a cheerful, feminine greeting that suggested an age more close to his own. A quiet 'tsk' left him before he had time to reconsider - there was no way he would be able to stay introverted with so many strangers around - and with the intention of leaving before being dragged into a pointless conversation the stag turned around, careful to avoid the hot air that preceded risks of a very fiery death.

He turned, and froze, because not only had the girl arrived but her carelessly wielded magic had disguised the presence of a third - and this third made the hackles rise within the dark steed, alarms ringing like bells within the head as he heard the slippery, unsatisfied hunger within the voice.

He couldn't see the beast, could not recognize it for what it was, but dangerous things would always be dangerous. Frowning the blind stag tried to remember where the path had gone, tried to recall and retrace his own steps so that he wouldn't have to use the normal march of a walk and amble straight into the clutches of danger - but time was not on his side, events were unfolding at such pace that it was hard to keep up. A wet, disgusting sound of parting lips was followed by the sudden cry of a girl he didn't recognize, shouting a name that might belong to the colt or to the young mare he had never greeted - and with all the bravery of youth that never saw the danger to themselves the foal threw himself towards the fray with such foolish fervor that Morir was sure he'd probably get himself killed before ever reaching a year of age.

He didn't sigh, didn't roll non-existing eyes in empty sockets or pass any snarky remarks about the wise thing in joining a fight one was likely to lose. Instead he hurled himself down the path in hot pursuit of the boy, cloves eerily steady on the uneven terrain and tasseled tail whipping like a banner in his wake; when he judged he'd caught up with the fleet-footed youth he lunged to the side, aiming to shove the kid with a shoulder so that he would topple and fall.

"Don't be stupid, you'll die" Morir snarled as he spun around and turned on the kid, massive frame trying to block the way to the fight even as he listened to the sounds, trying to judge what was going on - would the girls be alright or should he try to help them? Never did he think that the child he tried to save could be of more use than himself - what, after all, could a spider-legged fawn do but break and die, spilling crimson blood in vain over the black rocks?


@[Amaris]

"I embrace the thorny rose to my chest and
fall into the crimson sea
I continue dancing upon the
piled bodies until I die"


♦ Please tag Morir in all replies! 


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