the Rift


[PRIVATE] Doomsday Clock

Oxy the Addict Posts: 322
Hidden Account atk: 5.5 | def: 7.5 | dam: 8
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.2hh :: 9 [Tallsun] HP: 73.5 | Buff: DANCE
Unnamed :: Common Boggart :: Mayhem Sevin
#1
Things that suck? Having to go find your apparently useless little servant pony. She had promised she was worthwhile and that she would complete tasks as assigned. Figures, then, that you’d give her one miniscule task and she couldn’t even complete it. Your stumbling gait, enhanced by the locoweed delicacy that you’ve been ingesting on your trip, leaves you crashing into trees here and there as you go. This wood is… perhaps one of your least favorite locations in Helovia, but it’s south and you know the Throat is south, and you told your useless pony to walk south too, so you’ll start here and just hope you can find her somewhere.

Of course, she should probably hope that you don’t find her, because when you do she’s going to pay. You gave her a task and she has failed to deliver, in the process she has made you look bad. And you realize her legs are shorter than yours and it probably took her a while to walk all this way, but that is no excuse. You’ve given her plenty of time. Now, she’s going to find out what you’re really like when you’re mean. So fearful as she’s seemed so far, she’s only ever met nice-ish Oxy.

A discontented scream falls from your lips as you continue to prowl the nettle-laden forest floor, brown eyes darting to and fro as you search for her gray form in the shadows. Perhaps she hopes to hide in them, to evade you through trickery, but you have not forgotten the gold band she wears on her limb. It will glitter, even in the shadows, of that you are certain. “GIRL!” your voice calls this time, the demand that she come to you as evident in that single word as it ever could be.

All the while, your companion floats behind you, trying to figure out how to save the slave girl from some terrible misfortune. Your hazy mind protects her somewhat, though you still get periodic hints of her thoughts and feelings. Don’t. Even. Fucking. Think about it. you tell her. Let her try, she’ll meet a fate just as terrible.

@[Rayo] @[Ampere] @[Tandavi]
Oxy
Permission granted to use magic or physical force with Oxy at any time for any reason to any degree, with the exception of killing him.

Please do not tag Oxy unless it is in an opening post

Ampere The Mother of Companions Posts: 719
Dragon's Throat Sultana atk: 9 | def: 11 | dam: 4.5
Mare :: Pegasus :: 14 hh :: 6 years HP: 73 | Buff: DANCE
Kygo :: Green Cheek Conure :: None Blu
#2
ampere</style>
Wings pressed the air beneath her, beside her, all around her. The grip, slight in some places and firm in others, was like a comfortable coat which Ampere donned. It was cozy, inviting, comfortable - it was home. No matter where she was or how she felt, the wind was always there, somewhere, and it was always the same.

Some days she was kinder, gently playing through Ampere's feathers and braiding her mane and tail into knots. Other times she was hard, blowing so strongly she pressed like teeth against Ampere's flesh and upset the otherwise steady balance of flight. She could be warm, she could be cold, she could be fresh, she could be salty. The wind existed like a being, a friend, a mother. Ampere knew her, trusted her, welcomed her.

She pitied those who could not.

It was too her friend that Ampere turned. To her home that she ran, running on feathers and clouds. Her mind was convoluted and in this place she often found peace. As with most moments of serenity however, it did not last for long.

In fact, it never came at all.

The wind blew, speaking, but Ampere could not hear her over the pounding of her own thoughts. This more than anything drove Ampere into a depth of maddening frustration. What am I doing? she asked for the hundredth time, and as before, had no answer. Her own madness did not relent, but her wings did.

Unsteadily Ampere settled down at the opening of the forest. Flight offered too much muscle memory and it let her mind wander. Previously this had helped her think and unravel her questions into answers. Today, yesterday, and the day before though, had proven inescapable, because she was trying to run from herself. The ground offered little better in the way of respite, but at least it had food and shade and darkness. She could hide here, she could live here...

Browsing as she moved, a hurried, sweat-lined pace, Ampere startled at the abrupt outcry. Her head jerked around, pulled from an internal monologue, to peer through the swell of the foliage. "Oxy?" she asked of the woods, his voice like a cracked bell ringing in her ears, beckoning his name. There was only interest in the phrase, but ire was quick to settle in.

He was certainly not the serenity she was looking for.
           I CAME HERE TO PARTY AND MESS SHIT UP.</style>

image credits


@[Rayo] @[Tandavi]

Tag me only if starting a new thread.
Magic or force permitted any time, aside from death.

Oxy the Addict Posts: 322
Hidden Account atk: 5.5 | def: 7.5 | dam: 8
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.2hh :: 9 [Tallsun] HP: 73.5 | Buff: DANCE
Unnamed :: Common Boggart :: Mayhem Sevin
#3
Ampere finds her peace in the wind that caresses her wings, that holds her aloft, that lets her dance in the sky like a jay bird. She finds peace in the way nature envelops her and surrounds. You’re rather the opposite, aren’t you? You find peace in something that you can surround- your plants as you ingest them. And indeed, your plants do hold you aloft and left you dance in the sky, in a metaphorical sense. But mostly they drag you lower to the ground, hooves spread wide, head hung low, tail limp and dangling behind you. On the worst days you may even meet the ground, laying upon it, crushing the earth beneath your intoxicated weight. Isn’t it that opposite attracts? So why do you hate this woman so?

Your name calls through the trees, but even before your brain can really register who it is that has spoken you feel a seething abhorrence writhe up within you. Her. Your thoughts are flashes, just incoherent thoughts to your companion who is thrown awry with this new violent course your mind has taken. Crackles of lighting, lots of blue, an egg, p a i n. Even the thought of the pain seems to be drawn out, your sides beginning to softly pulse with the memory of the chemical burns that had wracked your hide. Scars still linger, patches where fur refuses to grow, left there when you failed to return to a healer after your second meeting in the caves. Oh yes, you remember that meeting, a war effort lead by your best buddy, accented by mocking words from you and unexpected assault from the chaotic woman who is your mortal enemy.

But if she is your enemy, she is also like one of your drugs. She is terrible for you- she ruins you, drags you down, only brings out the worst in you- but you can’t get enough of her. Seeing the way her face contorts as you mock her, the way she grows indignant when you approach, is addicting in its own right. You turn towards where you heard her voice, a smirk already growing on the corners of your mouth as you sloppily fall towards her. “You stole my slave girl!” you hiss, accusation obviously unfounded as you have no way of knowing if she did or didn’t, or if she even knows that you have a slave girl. But making sense aside, you have a sense that this will drive her almost as wild as the time you informed her the boggart’s name was Ampere. It must be that in the same way you come to know and understand your friend’s likes and dislikes, you come to know and understand the triggers that drive your enemies wild.

It is interesting for your boggart to look on the wild blue woman and know that she could have belonged to her instead (she does not understand that Ampere would have freed her). How would her life be different, how would her manners be changed? She has no words for this, cannot speak and cannot tell you how she feels, but she considers it nevertheless, in the span of time it takes you to speak. But when you are done speaking, she does not linger, she acts. All she knows of Ampere is explosions and though Oxy is her master and she the slave, in many ways she has come to love him and want better for her. She flies down to Ampere, morphing into an image that she can sense will cause at least some minor distraction, perhaps momentarily saving you from another wave of electricity washing over your body.

So… what is she? None other than a Sun God miniature, standing beside one very abandoned egg, an unpleasant scowl on his face. Neither you nor your boggart understand the image, but the little black wisps intuition has never failed her before. The image lingers only a moment, but hopefully it will be enough.


Oxy
Permission granted to use magic or physical force with Oxy at any time for any reason to any degree, with the exception of killing him.

Please do not tag Oxy unless it is in an opening post

Ampere The Mother of Companions Posts: 719
Dragon's Throat Sultana atk: 9 | def: 11 | dam: 4.5
Mare :: Pegasus :: 14 hh :: 6 years HP: 73 | Buff: DANCE
Kygo :: Green Cheek Conure :: None Blu
#4
ampere</style>
He stumbles out of the brush like some cumbersome rhino tripping on his own feet. Idiot she thinks as she balks, afraid he might stumble into her and touch her. Instantly her ears slide back against her neck, practically a default response at the sight of him. Immediately her headache worsens and she slings him a dirty look for it.

Ampere is thankful for what distance remains between them as he speaks, certain that his exhale is as foul as his heart. Words, or something like them, push between the oaf's drug stained teeth. Even if she hadn't heard what nonesense he muttered, by tone alone she knew it wasn't good and wanted to kick him for it. She might have just left actually, not interested in tangling herself with him when she had enough other knots to sort through. Unfortunately she did hear what he had to say.

"Wha- YOU!" she started to snap back, even going so far as to accentuate it with a crack of her tail against her flanks. He was the one who stole! She couldn't get much of a word in edgewise though because just as quickly as she took a heated step forward, teeth clicking around her wagging tongue, more intent to bite than reason, his companion (hers), involved herself. Ampere did not know this, at least not a first (she still didn't fully understand what the boggart was.

What she did see and understood however, was the horrific image set before her.

All at once the heated outrage that was boiling over inside her, set to wash over and scald Oxy, came pouring back against her. Like an imploding spar Ampere withdrew in a terrible scurry of backwards, halphazard steps. She ripped out a chunk of her own tail as she tucked her ass, only stopping when she bumped against a tree and there stood rooted. All the while her eyes, wide as headlights, stared at the egg. Her egg.

Their egg.

"No!" the cry wrenched out, fighting back a sob as she looked to her god, her savior, her light. "You don't understand," she tried to beg to him, head falling low and wings slumping against her sides, tired. Although in many ways she still blamed him, was angry at him for the egg, the disappointment that marred his features struck her in the gut. What would he say, what would he do!? Would he hate her? Burn her? Kick her out of the home she had just gotten back into? She deserved them all in one way or another - she had just been lucky no one had asked about why she left, she hadn't had to explain it. Out of anyone to know though, she hadn't wanted it to be him.

"I'm sorry" she whispered, looking away and resisting the urge to crash onto her knees. "I am not, strong enough."

In this moment of weakness the Mother forgot that Oxy was present. Forgot that this was a trick played by him before (would she ever learn?). She was too crippled by the reality of the scene and overcome with the self hatred for it.

[SORRY I thought she would go hulk rage mode but apparently not until next post]
           I CAME HERE TO PARTY AND MESS SHIT UP.</style>

image credits

Tag me only if starting a new thread.
Magic or force permitted any time, aside from death.

Oxy the Addict Posts: 322
Hidden Account atk: 5.5 | def: 7.5 | dam: 8
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.2hh :: 9 [Tallsun] HP: 73.5 | Buff: DANCE
Unnamed :: Common Boggart :: Mayhem Sevin
#5
God damn, is about all you can think as the blue wench lowers her ears at you and then starts to scream. Is there ever anything that she isn’t mad about? It’s like every time you see her she’s got some stupid vendetta that she’s hell bent on pushing upon everyone else. Except instead of talking about her point-of-views, she likes to scream about how your point of view is wrong. Little dramatic, you think to yourself, lowering your ears to try and block out the shrillness of her voice. In fact, you’re about to open your mouth to tell her to stop being a dumb bitch when your wispy companion changes the entire mood of the meeting.

Ampere scuttles backwards and you throw your head to the sky in a panic at her actions, scurrying backwards yourself, ever wary of her propensity to douse you electricity; however, you do not feel the now-familiar scald of her electric waves. She doesn’t attack you at all. Still, you would not have any edge over her if you dared to attack her now, so panic you are by all the sudden movement. Trying to calm yourself, you end up kicking a tree with one of your hind limbs, the familiar thud having a sort of calming effect on you as you try to sort out what the hell is going on before you. You don’t understand what?!?

But even you, stupid though you are when you are frustrated (as you are now), can finally figure out that she is not speaking to you. As the scene dissipates and the Mother whispers a few more words, you can’t help but feel a familiar desire to continue to pick at her, to bite at her, to make her feel shame in your presence. You are her master, you always will be… or so you imagine, in your head. She is a dog that bites the hand that feeds her, but you are the master that keeps coming back with a newspaper to reprimand her. “Damn right you’re not strong enough,” you spit with a hint of grumbly laughter beneath your voice. “Glad you finally figured it out.”

You’re kind of an ass.

@[Ampere]

Oxy
Permission granted to use magic or physical force with Oxy at any time for any reason to any degree, with the exception of killing him.

Please do not tag Oxy unless it is in an opening post

Ampere The Mother of Companions Posts: 719
Dragon's Throat Sultana atk: 9 | def: 11 | dam: 4.5
Mare :: Pegasus :: 14 hh :: 6 years HP: 73 | Buff: DANCE
Kygo :: Green Cheek Conure :: None Blu
#6
ampere</style>
It isn't until Oxy's words fell upon her, so harsh and brash, like rocks sliding and grinding against each other, that Ampere snapped out of it. She stumbled, as if falling out of the daze she'd been put under (half by the Boggart and half by herself). Her lungs hitched, a gasp choking its way into her nares which flared with renewed breath. How long had she been holding it, hyperventilating, sobbing, strangling herself and for what?

Fury overtook her now, hot and terrible and so encompassing she was lost inside of it. A blue line wreathed her body, dust and foliage exploding into a flurry of sparks which danced and swirled like a deadly snowstorm around her. Caught in the electrical pulse her hair danced wild, thrashing the the sea against her nape and hocks. Like its own weapon, heavy and sharp, Ampere's gaze lifted from the ground to Oxy.

"Shut the fuck up," she breathed.

Ampere took a step forward, the movement sending a ripple in her lightning dance. In unison the sparks erupted forward, colliding and combining in a sword that drove towards Oxy's heart. Behind it's hilt Ampere screamed, her second magic jumping forward with invisible hands to pull at Oxy's threads, intending to block the electrical outputs in his current-wired body, cutting off his supply of magic.

Then she was gone. Her sword fizzed out whether it struck him or not and her hold on his chords, though already released, would fade sooner than later from his senses. All that remained was the clump of her ripped out hair and a black feather marked in blue that had been ejected from her flesh by the force of her flighted retreat.

Tears still pricked in her eyes as she flew. They exhausted her, leaving her empty of the will to batter him as he deserved.
           I CAME HERE TO PARTY AND MESS SHIT UP.</style>

image credits

Tag me only if starting a new thread.
Magic or force permitted any time, aside from death.


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