the Rift


[PRIVATE] CONV E R G E N C E

Reginald Posts: 165
Hidden Account atk: 4 | def: 7.5 | dam: 7
Stallion :: Hybrid :: 17.1 hh :: 3 HP: 64 | Buff: NOVICE
Ka'Mate :: Harpy Eagle :: None & Ka'Ora :: Harpy Eagle :: None M.E.
#1


Grey ears flick; a grey hide twitches and jumps. He says nothing; he continues to stalk the land, spider clinging to heel, trekking for the northern reaches of the realm. He is no stranger to those forlorn ranges and accursed caverns; he pounds the earth underneath feather and hoof as he marches, steadfast and sure, save for the whisper of flies deep in his ear, on his skin. He stifles the urge to glare at his black mistress; this is no fault of Jorogumo. She is no slimy cut of fetid meat—and besides, these flies are built of wind and evil whispers. He grits his teeth against the pounding of his skull; even there, fly song manages to penetrate.

The climb is long and certainly cold. Even the mountain sun is thin and colorless as they finally emerge amongst a field of hardy, merry blooms of winter. Memories begin to assault him, unbidden, of a time where the world was so new and fresh, when he clung to his mother’s hip and the larger twin always, always accompanied them. Tempering these memories is the sharp pain of lung, the heavy drag of short breath, the constant hammering of a pounding heart. He sheds these recollections immediately; he wanders from his Jorogumo, eyes of grey sharp and alert, resisting the aroma of vegetation that manages to escape the frost of mortals.

Abraham’s scent is a phantom; Reginald hasn’t witness so much of a hair of his brother, save for that instant not too long ago, the instant of passion fruit and buzzing lies. He knows not which path he has taken, where the ample beast and his dragon might’ve wandered to—he wonders if Abraham himself knows of this place, the mountain garden of gods. He stalks the weeds and flowers, trampling all without prejudice; his mind wanders. His father’s words threaten to echo in his mind, and he burns them with a snarl before they come to fruition behind his eyes; the chastisement turns to ash upon his tongue.

“Black fur,” he rasps, more to himself, as he continues to stalk back and forth; the image of the dead, feathered harlot’s mouth crosses his mind, her teeth clamped upon something dark, ragged, and ugly. Eyes glance once toward his spider. “It wasn’t you, was it?” he asks; the tease falls flat amongst the storm of his impatience. He does not know where his brother is. “Tell me,” he says, changing his mind, switching thoughts; legs move as pistons of some treacherous, ravenous engine, pounding through the thick vegetation of the lush field, “do you know of the boy Öde?" The name rings strange and familiar all at once upon the serpent’s tongue. He remembers that child from long ago, most certainly grown just as the Grey-Eyed prince was; he remembers how the cold had clung to that hide as well, a hide of a deep, deep blood-splattered midnight. Flowers c rumple underneath his hooves; he continues to pace.



@[Abraham]
@[Jorogumo]
@[Öde]

”Watch for Circe.”



There's nothing here for free
Lost who I want to be
My serpent blood can strike so cold


Image Credits



--Please tag REGINALD in every reply!

--All force is allowed to be used against this character!



Jorogumo Posts: 70
Hidden Account atk: 4 | def: 7 | dam: 7
Filly :: Unicorn :: 15.3 hh :: 2 HP: 62 | Buff: NOVICE
Selkie
#2


Jorogumo
visions are seldom all they seem.




Jorogumo followed northward. Images of the dying stag lay embedded within her mind. Questions swirled about in her mind and she couldn’t help but ponder a single thing… Where could she achieve such power? Whoever this individual was stirred quite the storm across Helovia and she could only imagine the source of such madness. It stirred wild envy at such immense glory. These happenings sent the gods into a frenzy. The spider had to ponder whether if even the holiness of gods could flicker out like a light. Could one make the gods bleed? Part of her wanted to chuckle at her blasphemous thoughts but instead she focuses upon the grey figure ahead of her. Why did Reginald drive them north? She loathed the idea of returning to the frostbitten Basin. There was nothing to present before the golden empress, nothing to display her worth and prove her wrong.

As her grey prince strode away she made no effort to follow. Instead she occupied her mind with other thoughts and questions beyond the mysteries of Helovia. The back of her mind was haunted by a single question. Why did she so eagerly follow Reginald? If any other spoke to her in such a way she would’ve spat upon them and lashed out with her tongue. Yet with a single word she obeyed like a trained mongrel. Hadn’t he been the most consistent figure in her life through it all? Hadn’t he seen her in the vulnerable and the dark moments? Reginald had been the last to see her cry. He had seen her as the whimpering child and not the black widow. Jorgumo flickered her gaze up from the ground as she heard the grey colt speak. Both ears pricked forward and she met his gaze as a question broke through the air.

“I wouldn’t have been stupid enough to leave behind a trail,” Jorogumo responded, her words holding more apathy than their usual bite. Another question broke through the air and he mentioned a name and for a brief moment she sifted through the small amount faces she knew. Finally, she came to her conclusion with a shake of her head. “Why does some boy matter?”

@[Reginald]

"blah blah blah."



Image Credit


Icon by Bronzehalo

Öde Posts: 145
Aurora Basin Disciple atk: 5 | def: 10 | dam: 5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17 hh :: 4.5 HP: 64.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Blu
#3

Ö_D_E
I'M FRIENDS WITH THE MONSTER_UNDER MY BED

I remember this place. It's not the first memory to flicker back to life behind my eyes, but neither is it the strongest. I'm not even sure if they will get better, or come back, or anything. I just know sometimes I feel like I walk into them, like a dream, and it stirs some part of my subconscious. It's intriguing, to say the least, but it's definitely little more than that. I'm not overly worried if I forget, because I remember enough to function, and to pray.

His teachings remains burned into my base of knowledge, rooted there, wraith or not. She had done a fine job of that, my Mother, one of the few things she had been good at. I wonder actually, as I walk through these fields that once bent with wheat and grass (now snow collects at my sides), if he was responsible for the wraiths? Mother said he'd been buried in darkness when the land fell to it, and with his familiarity and his strength, it made sense to me that he could learn to control the darkness. Like a little gift wrapped up for me he'd sent it here, giving me power greater than I had ever yet tasted.

Or so it went for a year until that bitch ripped it away.

I flick my tail, annoyed at the thought of the bay mare and her tune, annoyed at my mortality once more. To make matters worse I had forgotten how to be anything other than a god. My words were short, simple, sometimes slurred with dis-use. My mannerisms, ever influenced by my mother and her oddity, were only that much stranger after a year suckling on souls in the bosom of shadow - a year of my as yet short lifespan, longer than anything else I had know. It made me feel, desolate. Like I was walking around this strange world where nothing made any sense any more and I was trying to fit in but damnit how can you when you can't feast on souls any more? Grass is so
bland.

Murder might be just the thing that would help Öde rediscover his interest in this plane of fleshy existence, at least until he could figure out how to thrust himself back into the divine kingdoms. So imagine his surprise when a voice, another flicker of a memory reviving, spun over the smothered plains. The black boy paused, head tilting, horn cutting the sky as he listened.

Awkwardly turning, his limbs like stiff chunks of wood, pulling through the packed ice with newfound direction. He had come here hoping to find his mother, for no reason other than she was something to remember, but to encounter Reginald was far better. Brother of ambition, is it stronger than blood ties?

"Why do you?" Öde asked, raspy and slow as he drew into view behind the girl. He dismissed her after a cursory glance, his true attention drifting to the familiar monolith of stone. A crooked smile flashed under a dark muzzle. "Clouds," he began breathy, "kneeled." A tittering laugh broke from his chest then, unwinding like a demented toy until all his juice, all his air, was extinguished. Even then his eyes, puddles of blood, shone with mirth. More than clouds had kneeled to him.

Was this killer, this black hair, a key back to his godhood? He was intent to find out.


bg- resurgere.deviantart.com
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

Abraham Posts: 113
Absent Abyss atk: 4.5 | def: 8.0 | dam: 7.5
Stallion :: Hybrid :: 17.3 hh :: Three years HP: 71 | Buff: NOVICE
Gwyneverre :: Plain White Dragon :: Fire Breath & Brienne :: Royal Gold Dragon :: Frost Breath Time
#4
Abraham
Flies. Flies buzzed in his ears, around his body. He could feel them on him, crawling over his skin. It made him sick, his stomach turning in a horrible, knotted hurricane. All the rolling, scratching, and galloping--it all was futile, for the buzz only increased. The boy was annoyed, his head hanging low with his ears pinned into his thick, dark mane. His dual-toned eyes were narrowed darkly, and there was a continuous, guttural growl that rang around him. Anyone who tested this creature now would be in for a fight, for Abraham's already short fuse was nonexistent in these moments of torture.

You ate fruit. Gwyneverre recalled, gliding above her bonded with a smug look painted on her pale, reptilian face. You gave it to me. Abraham snapped, his words sharp and venomous. Gwyn fell silent and flapped her wings, a warm current taking her higher and away from the horned, angry youngling. She snorted as she rose, a puff of thick black smoke bursting from her nostrils. Just as temperamental as her bondmate the draconian woman was, and she would not be offended by him nor anyone else. She simply would not stand for it. She was a queen.

The pair continued on, despite the anger that clouded around them. Abraham was on the move, his nose following the scent of his brother. He had left the twin at the tree when the buzzing started, the infestation of flies that Abraham had desired to rid of. He was driven by curiousity, wondering if his brother faced the same damned fate as he did from the wretched fruit of the alluring, beautiful tree. His stomach continued to flop, and if he had the ability to vomit, the meal he had last eaten would be upchucked on the ground before him. His last meal, however, did not match his natural habits. Not only had the fruit plagued him with incessant flies, but it had poured a new found fire into his digestive system. His mouth watered at the thought of sharing a meal with Gwyneverre, and he had. The bonded pair devoured an already half-eaten carcass of a small doe, ravaged before them by, what Abraham and his dragon guessed, wolves. The meat cried out to him, his belly clawing at him. His desire for blood and meat was unmatchable to anything he had ever felt before, and Abraham needed to curb the lusty beast.

He felt no qualm about this. He enjoyed it. Perhaps, unknown to him, his uncle Knox had passed something through the gene pool.

Lost in his thoughts, Abraham nearly stumbled upon his brother. But the twin was not alone, and Abraham's dual colored eyes darted between a filly and another colt. Still, with pinned ears, the annoyed boy raised up his head some. "Reginald." Were the only words he gave to announce his presence, but his posture rose to stand with power, his young body rippling with his promise to come.

Image Credit

Holy water cannot help you now
Thousand armies couldn't keep me out
I don't want your money
I don't want your crown
See I've come to burn your kingdom down


pixel by tamme

Reginald Posts: 165
Hidden Account atk: 4 | def: 7.5 | dam: 7
Stallion :: Hybrid :: 17.1 hh :: 3 HP: 64 | Buff: NOVICE
Ka'Mate :: Harpy Eagle :: None & Ka'Ora :: Harpy Eagle :: None M.E.
#5


He smiles tightly, the words of his spider affirming and consoling some distant, age-old worry he had battled with for quite some time; his decision to give this foolish fillyness a chance at greatness, a stab at reason, instead of rejecting completely the futile prospect of the female sex. He rightly finds that she is not so vexing when she keeps her pride in check, tucked away under the hard, black boulder of obsidian and coal-dust that her heart had turned into. “Of course not,” he breathes—amused, even, the breath in the guise of a chuckle as it slips his lips. It is over as soon as it begins; his nerves remain unsoothed, undistracted. Flowers and clover die beneath him, waves of desolation—a massacre of green, brown blood and nectar. Maybe the bee carcasses will mourn the loss of misplaced seedlings. Maybe the flies will continue to buzz.

He perceives a scent—feels the rush of an unfamiliar, distasteful lurch of something weak, relief, excitement—and, all at once, it washes away beneath the sea of molten lava and fury, for it is not his brother. Then, astonishingly, the lava recedes—he recognizes this scent, faint and altered by something full and very, very male, but familiar. He turns, and hails a different sort of brother—a brother tied not by womb water and a fleshy cord, of shared sperm and ovum; a brother, nonetheless.

The grin returns; it etches darker and deeper than quick amusement. He is pleased, well and truly, to know that his suspicions were correct, and that, once again, their paths cross. He laughs, suddenly—a booming, handsome thing, much too rich to climb from the throat of such a wretched beast—at the mention of clouds, and how they kneel. True, Öde is thinner than he would like to see; bleak and reedy, speaking a voice that is much too subdued for his liking—but here he stands regardless, the fire of some sick passion keeping those limbs moving, those red eyes burning, burning. Grey pride swells, satisfied and smug; Reginald seems to have an eye for talent in the darkest, most subdued of shadows.

Then, the final tribute. He comes in a swell of swimming rage, a boy of ivory and sable brawn; ears twitching, pinned and angry, taut with some irritation that Reginald recognizes. The flies buzz doubly hard, now. They sense each other, swarm to swarm, and confer with each other upon invisible airwaves, chattering torturous nonsense that buzzes in the deepest recesses of Reginald’s ear. Abraham,” he returns, appraising; then ducks his head suddenly, dropping down his ear against his knee, rubbing vigorously, a brief burst of frustration with the flies, the murderous fruit. He is pleased—yet, more than anything, his purpose is not so easily lost. The flies remind him of dead flesh; dark fur; a wolf’s head and maggots.

“Abraham, my brother,” he says tersely, and he exercises his tone in a way that he has never had reason to try. “Öde, my friend,” He looks at none of them; he paces slowly, for movement stifles the sound of flies.”Jorogumo…” He pauses, voice trailing ragged and throaty; Mine is what he thinks, for she is nothing elsebut. Grey irises glance at her, briefly, pondering the whiteness of her eye as he stalks passed, considering for the first time the strangeness of these circumstances. He is challenging, normally—and pensive, and sharp with his tongue when he speaks to his spider. Never before, however, has he tried to formulate, organize bodies into something coherent, a machine. Usually they nauseate him.

“Something stalks the land,” he says; picking his words, rolling them over on his tongue, pondering them even as they leave his throat. “Something dark and powerful, something great… out of control, overwhelming.” The problem, in one breath. The threat. “Something that gods fear.” His imagination is wild, furious and stupefied with excitement; he quits his pacing, and he stares at them, hard, considering them, those who he assembled, those souls he tolerated--liked, in some senses—allowed to see and know this lust that stirs for the great thing with maddening, dangerous independence.

“I want it.”




”Watch for Circe.”



There's nothing here for free
Lost who I want to be
My serpent blood can strike so cold


Image Credits



--Please tag REGINALD in every reply!

--All force is allowed to be used against this character!



Jorogumo Posts: 70
Hidden Account atk: 4 | def: 7 | dam: 7
Filly :: Unicorn :: 15.3 hh :: 2 HP: 62 | Buff: NOVICE
Selkie
#6


Jorogumo
visions are seldom all they seem.




Jorogumo gave nothing more than a slight smirk back at her serpent, as she rapidly lost interest in the conversation. Her mind was occupied with the fantasies of an adolescent mind. It would be another that drew her from the darkest recesses of her mind. A question broke through the air and she quirked a brow at the dark boy who she assumed was the one who Reginald spoke of. She didn’t even grace the boy with a response, all she did was narrow her eyes moreso out of curiosity than rage. The boys spoke of clouds and kneeling and then laughter. Inside joke or not, their wit was sorely lacking and Jorogumo remained unimpressed by this Öde. He was nothing more than a simple minded boy.All boys were good for were the creation of more babes, thus, they were of no use to her. She should simply give up on intellect and wit and rather see them for more… Physical needs.

Their little group was interrupted by yet another boy. This one seemed to know Reginald as well. For a long moment, the spider eyed her serpent with one brow quirked. Had he somehow arranged this little gathering behind her back? There was no use in paranoia. For a moment she considered wandering off to find more amusing company, but Reginald spoke up. One by one, he introduced the figures around. When he spoke her name she eyed him silently and as his eyes briefly rested upon her she narrowed her gaze. As he continued on she turned her head away as he finished his declarations. For a moment a possessiveness sweltered inside of her that remained hidden from her face. Jorogumo wouldn’t let such marvelous power slipped through her grasp. She wouldn’t let an opportunity to bring Kisaki to her knees get away from her.

Carefully she stepped toward Reginald with an unreadable expression. “How would we benefit?” She knew better than to expect him to share any glory. “Why search when there is nothing to gain?” The spider may have chosen him as her king, but she wouldn’t blindly follow. The spider wanted to be queen and she wouldn’t sacrifice that for another’s ambition. “Convince me why I should exert any energy into this.”

"blah blah blah."



Image Credit


Icon by Bronzehalo

Öde Posts: 145
Aurora Basin Disciple atk: 5 | def: 10 | dam: 5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17 hh :: 4.5 HP: 64.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Blu
#7

Ö_D_E
I'M FRIENDS WITH THE MONSTER_UNDER MY BED

Another came through the dark, drawn towards...what, Reginald?. Öde glanced around at their small group, recognizing that the grey tiny titan was the single unifier among them all, and then he stood with knowledge and leadership. Irritation crossed over Öde's facade for a brief moment, vexed that he had unwittingly been drawn to a source of reverence other than his god, or himself. He should be the light in the dark drawing the moths, not the one flapping his damn wings until he burned up.

Then again, power draws power, and nearly all of them held a confidence of self assurance. Öde saw it in the poignant lift of the dark colt's head as he slid into position, purposefully making a statement. Öde watched him, considering the repercussions of this simple movement. He could lift his own, a challenge, and entering into a pissing match. He could stand as is, ignoring the motion, but in its own way subjecting to it - perhaps bidding time to challenge at a better opportunity. The other option he refused to even consider, for it meant undeniable submission.

He has already entered into a match with the girl, he doesn't dare to make a second enemy so swiftly, so Öde remains steady, letting only his eyes shift, and his flanks as he breathes, calm.

The monolith asserts his power, his tone direct as it slaps against the name of the black demon. Öde resists a sly grin, for though Reginald maintains his power, such that is not Öde's, he at least knows Reginald, respects him, is fine with letting him rule for the moment. Abraham is different, for now, because Öde doesn't think he deserves a crown. He may be proved wrong, but for now, he enjoys that Reginald puts himself higher, brother or not.

Interesting...

There is something too in the order that Reginald greets them all. Öde is not ruffled by his second tier, because its tone is welcoming, and because he is above her, despite her nearness, her firstness, she is last on the list. Öde's eyes flick to her, a laugh shining in them. She doesn't even get a title, she is only a name, easily forgotten. Öde recognizes then that she is little more than toy, which comforts him. For a moment he was concerned with Reginald's judgement in company.

The specifics of their hierarchy fall to the wayside as Reginald delves into the matter that leads his pacing. Of course dominance and relations never go away, though they are surely most noticeable and tense at initial meeting, they are always there, running like a current, or blood in the body. Still, they each have settled into their places for this conversation, so Öde attends to listening rather than watching. As he does, he shudders, hanging on each word his grey king utters. Each one is an adjective for Him, Öde's god, and giddily he wonders if his prayers have finally brought the DemonKing to Helovia in full form.

Öde prances where he stands, snorting with a toss of his head, energy racing up his legs until he kicks out behind him to dispel it. His eyes are hot and bright as they coast over to the girl, her words, her voice, her face all stupid.
"We could learn, we could feast, we could be" he seethes at her, unable to even understand her hesitation. "It is a force, it draws us, does it not you?" Power draws power, so if she doesn't feel the pull, what does it say of her?

Öde turns to the other two, knowing they understand. They must. "Let's find it," Öde pants, his teeth clicking together with impatience to start. "It will show itself again, if we look." He wants to go now, but he waits for permission, because he is not king this time.

@[Abraham]


bg- resurgere.deviantart.com
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

Abraham Posts: 113
Absent Abyss atk: 4.5 | def: 8.0 | dam: 7.5
Stallion :: Hybrid :: 17.3 hh :: Three years HP: 71 | Buff: NOVICE
Gwyneverre :: Plain White Dragon :: Fire Breath & Brienne :: Royal Gold Dragon :: Frost Breath Time
#8
Abraham
With a proud head lifted to the two strangers, placing them beneath him, Abraham watched. Oddly colored eyes moved to the female stranger, and his lips tighten in a scowl. There is an air about her that Abraham wants to demolish. She stood so closely to Reginald, and it twisted the boy's stomach. What the fuck was her business with him? Reginald had no equal but his wombmate, and it would forever be. Delusion. Gwyneverre decides, tail lashing behind her and her wings extending some as she lifted into the air. She glided around the group in large circles, floating on the gentle, warm currents to take her higher and dipping into cold streams that brought her near to her bondmate and his brother, as well as the strangers. A small, continuous hiss leaked from her half-parted maw, razor sharp teeth in full view of those who wished to look.

As Reginald spoke, Abraham turned to watch his brother, ears still pinned with the deep annoyance that fueled the incessant beating of his heart. The flies that tortured his head were making him furious. He suppressed his rage, however, showing it only in his pinned ears and his inky tail crashing against his strong hocks. "Brother mine, where have you seen this power?" Abraham's voice was cold and questioning. While he did not stand to usurp his brother's dominance, Abraham would not kneel to that which shared the same genetic make-up. They were twins, created, bred, born, and strengthened together. Their bond was stronger than the ties that held the sun to the sky, the ocean to the moon, or the mountain to the earth.

The other dark boy speaks and Abraham gives him regard, looking him up and down. He is more lightly built than the heavy twins, but he is lifted on stilts that would surely give him a domineering element of height. In a miniscule motion, the second son of hellion nods his head to Öde.

Image Credit


@[Reginald]

Holy water cannot help you now
Thousand armies couldn't keep me out
I don't want your money
I don't want your crown
See I've come to burn your kingdom down


pixel by tamme


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