the Rift


[OPEN] The cold never bothered me anyway

Athenä Posts: 23
Hidden Account
Mare :: Unicorn :: 16 :: 3 [Bird Song]
Candy
#1


athenä
Let it Snow


Still young, and filling out slowly turning the baby fat into refined yearling muscle; still trying to grow into her hind quarters as the seasons carry on. A form of depression, uncertainty, the clarification of growing older and being able to understand what happened to you as a child. Being abandoned, and promised a return, only to be left in the arms of strangers. False siblings, drawn away into darkness and never really fitting in. Close encounters of fellow unicorns, and other rare creatures that inhabit these lands. And with the winter come and gone, it was time to come out of hiding. The songs of the birds echoing around the oak and pine. The season of her birth, the young lady was fast approaching a year of age. And she was left to wonder what had happened to her twin brother; of her step brother and sister. Perhaps, they didn't even notice she had been gone for all those months. But the last she had encountered them, it was here. In a blanket of snow bordering the mountain base.

But this place, was new. Never before had she laid violet eyes upon these peaks as they kissed the hazed skies. It was beautiful really, and the aroma of spring kissed snow was very inviting indeed. A strange statue almost seemed to glare down upon her from the heights of the mountains, this place wasn't empty- it was home to some. It had to be, and maybe someone she would know could come out and say hello. If anyone she knew, still lingered in this place.

"Hello?" She cooed into the snow dusted banks, obsidian blotches standing out against the ivory powder. Hooves of painted cream stepping forth into the cold snow, as tapered tresses mingle upon turned nape as she gazed upon the does playing in the distant meadow.

Perhaps there was no one here after all.

"Talking."
'Thinking.'
tags // - Tagging for acceptance @[Deimos] & @[Ophelia] and @[Adelric] If you'd like to join <3
wordcount // -
ooc // - Sooo... Athena is going to need a place to stay. Since she has taken to the snow; I'd love it if she could stay here. Also- I've been gone a few months.. I'm back <3


Deimos the Reaper Posts: 527
Deceased atk: 7.0 | def: 12 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.1 :: 7 HP: 72.5 | Buff: NUMB
Heather
#2
Ministrations of the archaic, deadly hymns, driving spears, axes, and cutlasses into the heart of the inept, the frail, the foolish, ghosted through the icy threshold of his regime. Amongst the empire he channeled and maneuvered, a current of frigid monstrosity, a ripple of arcane, reticent blades, a pervading essence of coiled malice, of behemoth vows, of eldritch convictions, harbored in the denizen of his composed contempt. The relentless pariah, the heathen fuselage, the fortified Reaper, solidified a brilliant crescendo of merciless bastions beneath the canals of his footsteps, of his hoofprints, an ardent beat, a vicious convolution, of fiendish havoc crawling, slithering, amidst their molten pathways. Nearer and nearer he crouched amidst the foils of Birdsong, laying waste to their idle wiles and their passionate wellsprings, triggering the rapid discernments of loathing, of superiority, of dominance, so as he approached the unknown void, the zealous stranger painted into the mountain backdrop would feel the tear, the chasm, the merciless venture of his vehement crusade. His eyes narrowed, his speculation emerged, and his cold machinations chiseled deep into the barbaric shelter: who was this child, lost and adrift, coming to rest beneath their sentinels, crying out for an answer, a response? What did she want? What did she yearn to convey? The demon’s approach was on infidel steps and powerful strides; malicious and unholy, avaricious and licentious, scraping against the icy confines with his own paralyzing, Siberian presence, piercing glare examining the silent guards – noting they didn’t attack, they didn’t surge, they didn’t puncture or condone – and twisted back to the obsidian and white filly, consumed in the feral plain of peaks, of treachery, of death valleys and chaotic caverns. A mechanical reverie, a scraping barb, an arctic framework of tones and vocals lacquered and stoked the air, swelled in chilling, impassive puffs of air. “I am Deimos, Lord of the Basin.” He lowered his skull, a predator investigating his prey, an act of great scrutiny, surveying her structure for faults, for flaws, for purpose, for prowess. The young could be molded, guided, and sculpted – but only if willing; he had no intention of playing babysitter for curious endeavors and reckless journeys. “Who are you?”
Death, you bring death, and destruction to all that you touch.
- bg - table - art -

Athenä Posts: 23
Hidden Account
Mare :: Unicorn :: 16 :: 3 [Bird Song]
Candy
#3


athenä
I had to let you go

Pearl hooves act as daggers against the crisp crunch of ice under her weight. Bitter wind ruffles and weaves between marble locks; reminding her that winter still lingers in this place of mystery. Of all the seasons she had experienced, frost fall had been the best. The delicate snow fall, or the howling winds through naked oak and pine; it was a melody to her, a burden to others. She remained still however, gazing into the distance between the cracks of the mountains, as the ominous statue stood guard. The soft slush and crunch of snow and ice drifted upon the breeze, pulling her attention to another upon the horizon. A dark figure, violet optics fluttered with hope and excitement, it had been too long since she had seen another. His movements, powerful, strong, of hierarchy; a twisted dual toned sword resting between haunting sea-blue eyes; he was something to gaze upon. And it suddenly occurred to her, how silly she much look, slumped into lazy posture. Gathering herself as he neared, legs stiff and nape elegantly lifted as lobes peaked forth to soak in his masculine tone; amulet of sparks dangling upon her obsidian breast. 'Lord of the Basin?.' She fumbled in her mind, startled that this was home to any with its brutality reflected in the distance. Soft pink lips shy in a half smile as her chin pulls down and to her chest as his head shifts height, a lobe flops back against her painted skull, hidden in her fluffed silks.

'I’m nothing special.' She replied in her mind, letting her violet pools scan over the stallion, admiring his roped tail. Steam rolled off her nostrils as she hesitated for a moment, selfishly. Tone young, and innocent filtered the air in reply to his question. "I am Athenä.. I do apologize." She paused for a breath, as she returned her eyes back to his of blue. "I wasn’t aware this was a herd land, I had no intentions of trespassing Lord Deimos." Pink tongue lapped wet lips, as she turned and gazed in the distance with a curious look, what kind of equine would want to live in the cold, aside from herself of course. Intrigued, and wanting to explore, and perhaps stay in this winter wonderland, she was hesitant to ask the question if she could stay, how rude would that be to invite yourself into someone’s home? Pendulum danced with the breeze, as she squared off with the much larger demon before her, a respectful bow of her crown to his title. "I have never seen a land such as this, I have taken to the snow, the cold. Would it be rude of me, to ask for a place within your iced kingdom?" She could go on and give him a petty story of how she was abandoned.. only for her to abandon the kind mare that adopted her. It was a rather depressing thought, and she quickly shrugged it off for a later time.

"Talking."
'Thinking.'
tags // - @[Deimos]
wordcount // - 524
ooc // - Heather <3


Deimos the Reaper Posts: 527
Deceased atk: 7.0 | def: 12 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.1 :: 7 HP: 72.5 | Buff: NUMB
Heather
#4
Ignorance was a measure many claimed and settled within, embracing the ineptitude with a sneer, with a smirk, with a grin, but the filly, instead of settling into her delusions, proffered apologies for the strange circumstances. She hadn’t known what laid beneath the mighty walls, the keening fortress, the vigilant peaks and galvanized glaciers, perhaps lacked instruction in the art of kingdoms and empires, crumbling, faltering, rising, triumphing. He tilted his impassive skull for a moment, fixing his stare back upon the rendered confusion and peril drifting along her features: a witless fool though she may be (ironic, considering her given namesake), the youth were easily tendered into knowledgeable brethren. She was already far more equipped than the deranged idiots who wandered past their doors, awakened by the incidents of their impending slaughter, drifting amongst the chilling eaves with ebullience in their hearts and lunacy in their heads. The girl polished respect, noted regrets, furnished and finessed repose – other skills could come later, when it became clear what she craved (the strike, call, and drum of the battlefield, the furtive, wily glances of the crafty impersonators, the beckoning swirl of healing diatribes), hastened towards, yearned to call her own. The Reaper calculated, examined, crudely etched and sketched the ministrations and machinations through his cool mind – he was not one to pass and squander an opportunity for a fledgling to embark into their midst. There were already a mass of children, of youths, of lads and lasses, offering promise and distinction in the years to come: he had no intentions of wasting one more individual into their masses, combining strength, diligence, and perseverance into their coiled terrain. She could prosper, grow, in the chilling labyrinths and carnivorous caverns, seek their ways, sharpen her blade, learn who was friend or foe. He allowed her to shift and ruffle in the silence, stretching out the dominating sway, piercing and piecing together the justification of her arrival, of her acceptance. “You have not heard of us.” The behemoth almost chuckled, because there were always the presumptions they were the monsters parents told their children about before they tucked them into their beds, the demons, the infidels, the cretins stretching and crawling across the floor if they tread, wandered, wavered too far. Maybe their distinction needed to slither along the world once more, a proud, relentless force breathing molten brutality, rotten barbarity. His amusement died on his cool voice, on his penetrating essence, on the rapier tones erupting and contorting. “The Basin is more than snow.” He paused, sought to deliver a ricocheting speech about the sovereign lacquered behind them, eager to devour, ready to conquer, but ceased. She could explore and deign its potency on her own crusades. “You are free to live amongst us.”
Death, you bring death, and destruction to all that you touch.
- bg - table - art -


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