the Rift


[OPEN] Take Me to Church

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


He remembers this place from long ago, when his chest was shriveled, his lungs poisoned. He remembers the trees that loom above even now, scoffing his growth; he sees and knows the blood-red stones that scatter beneath the tranquil waters of the pool. The memory lingers; his mother instructing them, Abraham and himself, making them move, his lungs causing him never-ending fury. The sting of sweat persists in his eye: a ghost of weakness that tries to haunt.

It is spring, now. The scent of it lays heavy on the air, the rain present, even if it is light and refreshing. A ghost of mist roll around the treetops; clings to the trunk and the bark. The sun dazzles through them, those ghosts of new growth. The scent of animals is scattered and everywhere, the urgent odor of fucking permeating the dirt, the water, the tender grass shoots. Soon this place will be overrun with squirrel pups and mice kits, only to be crushed underhoof so easily and painlessly; their skulls are so hollow.

He had been gazing into the pond, thinking; contemplating the blood-stones that rest on the pond-bed. His lids low, his eyes closed to the world; his breathing even, stance relaxed; his expression dark, pensive, brooding. For it may seem that the shadow of his mother’s presence lingers about him, a cloud of uncertainty in the midst of peaceful birdsong clutter that gambols about him, oblivious to the mist that hangs about, a mist that is just as capable of concealing sorrow and wickedness as it is in bringing nourishment to the parched. He is silent; an obelisk on the water’s edge, perfect in his growing form, the definition of stone-hard muscle and brawn.

No one would ever suspect such an awesome, stoic creature, as supremely perfect as him—to simply be dozing.


@[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!



Myrrine Posts: 179
Deceased atk: 5.5 | def: 9.5 | dam: 5.0
Mare :: Pegasus :: 16hh :: 3 (Orangemoon) HP: 64.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Watermel0nBob
#2
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She didn't know how she had ended up in this place. She swore she was going towards her home, like the way she had come, but she must have taken a wrong turn somewhere, because here she was, in this forboding place and utterly lost. The little filly couldn't help but have an edge of nervousness with each little step she took, her dainty frame being swallowed by the massive trees surrounding her. Hazel eyes quickly flicked to and fro, ever attentive in case danger came bounding around and into plain sight to assault her. A brisk breeze chilled her to the bone, and she couldn't help but grow even more wary, as her limbs struggled to avoid fallen branches and debris left behind.

Her beautiful wings got snagged at the higher tendrils of the trees, causing her to wince and bit her lip in minor discomfort. She only hoped any wounds would heal, and soon her gaze found an opening. Heart leaping into her throat, she quickened her pace, albeit clumsily, into the clearing before her. Taking a large breath out of relief, her spotted skull moved around to take in her surroundings. The pond was welcoming at the moment, it providing water to quench her thirst, despite the red stones giving her an uneasy sensation. It was only when she was about a foot away from the pond did she see the grey colt, it was rather dim here you see, causing a gasp to escape her blackened maw and her whole body to skitter back slightly. Only when she realized what he was, she relaxed slightly, a glimmer of hope in her eyes.

Feeling her muscles relax, a gentle smile pressed against her lips as she looked at the dozing male, who most likely wasn't sleeping anymore. She was timid with her approach, walking a little closer with her head lowered, attempting to make eye contact as soft notes ecaped her,"Excuse me, I'm so sorry to bother you, but do you know which direction the Worlds Edge is in? I've seemed to have gotten rather lost." Her expression turned sheepish, but still genuine as she kept her attention on him, but also took this time to delve into the water. Letting her pink tongue lap at the iciness, her whole body felt refreshed at being rehydrated once more. Despite her enjoyment of her nice, cool drink, her spotted ears were still focused on the fellow equine, paying close attention to what he had to say next.

"Speech"
Text
Thought

OOC: Hope you don't mind me popping in!
WC: 419
Tag: Reginald
Image Credit
Any force is permitted aside from death or maiming
PLEASE TAG ME IN POSTS! :3

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.
#3


The stones dance for him, his vision clouded and slurred beneath hooded lids. Drops of blood swirl in the confusion of a waking dream; twisting with his memories, gliding upon the razor’s edge of his moods, cascading upon faint, yet distinct impulses that spark in his muscle and sinew, his veins and arteries, the beating of his heart, the buzz of his absent mind. The peacefulness of a doomed forest cloaks him in its tranquility; he is very nearly lost to the dancing of his innermost dreams. Sleep is near.

*"Excuse me…*”

Sleep was near.

It comes back to him, the world jarring into place harshly, sudden in his senses. The noises of the forest cease being a white lullaby; the scents become active, now, and his brain pick them apart, analyze them, consider their importance. His breathing becomes shallower; the beating of his heart increases. He opens his eyes, his sight bleary for some seconds; he sighs the tired from his throat and his joints, his tail stretching behind him, pulling the stiffness of idleness out of his spine.

He turns to the speaker, movements’ jerky with his exhaustion. It is with cold, impassive grey irises that he studies her; once again, the plague of a spotted creature spoils the air he breathes and taints his water. He is not so aware of himself to hide the sneer of disgust that transfigures his lips and nose; her legs are long, and there is something lacking in her repulsive scent. Hmph. A filly.

“How old are you?” he asks, abruptly, ignoring the daft clamor of her delicate speech. Perhaps he is wrong—perhaps she is some stunted creature cursed with the guise of a child? For, otherwise, what other use could she dare to have for him?




@[Myrrine]--sorry! Forgot to tag!

”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!



Myrrine Posts: 179
Deceased atk: 5.5 | def: 9.5 | dam: 5.0
Mare :: Pegasus :: 16hh :: 3 (Orangemoon) HP: 64.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Watermel0nBob
#4
M
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His movements brought her back to looking in his direction, her doe like eyes on him and glimmering with a cheery brightness. That was... until a look of disgust crossed his features. Her ears fell upon her smaller skull, eyes widened and mouth curving into a delicate frown, confusion clearly written on her expression. Should she have just left him alone? He had seem friendly enough when she first approached, just sleepy. Maybe he just didn't like being woken up. Pursing her lips in thought, she wondered how she could ammend this situation. She had been rather rude interrupting him, but surely if she were lost wouldn't someone be willing to help? Her downy tail of milky white and soft grey tickled her hips, fluttering with a slight hesitation as she studied the larger boy more, dipping her head lower to show she would remain passive with him.

Her lips tried to move, vocals trying to release her voice, but nothing would come under that cold hard stare. So instead she swallowed hard, only staring with those big eyes and gawky legs splayed beneath her almost awkwardly now, simply because she wasn't paying attention. It was when she spoke that her demeanor changed, to something better she wasn't sure. But she listened, ears forward and unwavering as she tried her best to remain polite, positive, as she had always been taught. She would not let this boy's foul mood ruin hers as well. He obviously had his reasons, and she would not judge him for them, only be as kind as she had always been.

His question was interesting, out of nowhere and very direct. Letting her ears flop to the sides in thought and her eyes to glance back into the dark pool before him, she sat for awhile to think. She didn't really pay attention to time when she was living here, nor to how old she was. She only knew of what the colors looked like when the seasons changed, and when the birds and animals would hide away in the colder times. To measure her actual age was quite a challenge for her, and letting them sit for another moment to form her words properly, a soft answer finally escaped her black maw,"I'm afraid that I cannot accurately tell you. I know that I was born when the leaves were different colors; browns, reds, oranges, and that the snow has come and gone, and we are bringing back new life into this world." Pausing again to look down at the ground, to think through her words carefully so as to try and be as helpful as possible, she added a final thought,"That's all I can really say. I hope that is helpful enough for you."

His slightly intimidating expression and his abrupt question had made her forget why she had begun talking to him in the first place. This had been the first time she had ever met someone who was rather, well; like him. She couldn't put her hoof on exactly how he was or what made him work in such a way, but a part of her couldn't help but be fascinated and nervous about him all at once. Her eyes trailed over his body, his growing shoulders and neck, filling into his body as his dappled coat had begun to shine like silk, as all adults coats did. He was becoming a man in his own way, making it clear to Myrrine that he was definitely older. Would he look down upon her then, for being so gangly and petite, or for the soft fur that was slightly fuzzy on her hide? She wasn't entirely sure, but she was ready to find out about him, all she had to do was wait for his response.



"Speech"
Text
Thought

OOC: No worries, we all forget sometimes!
WC: 632
Tag: @[Reginald]
Image Credit
Any force is permitted aside from death or maiming
PLEASE TAG ME IN POSTS! :3

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 watches those lips tremble, empty of any sense, void of an answer to the simplest of riddles. His lids fall over eyes that roll into the back of his skull; he is too exhausted to hide his scorn at the filly’s vexing nature. He sighs, a silent thing that lifts his shoulders and lets them drop; something wispy and incoherent escapes her, then, an explanation of things that is too simple for him to follow. He turns away from her, surveying the blood water, the shadow-cloaked tree-line of the forest, anything, everywhere, as long as it’s not the spotted thing that stammers before him. Oh, yes. She is a filly; he trusts his senses better, now.

He is pulled into even further wakefulness, pushed and pummeled into awareness, into thoughtfulness. He considers killing her, and throwing the body into a pond that is already blood-soaked; it lingers in his mind, this idea that mildly amuses him and soothes the prickle of annoyance that this boring creature has caused by jarring him from his waking dreams. Come to think of it, it wouldn’t do for him to stand in any place, nodding off into whatever dream took his fancy. He blinks, tail weaving behind him as he contemplates his mistake. Really, but it was a good thing that he attained consciousness when he did, before something larger, sinister, and far more important stumbled upon him.

There is salt in her disgusting scent. He remembers that place; he knows the Edge, where his Father dwells, where Macaria is destined for, to reign as a petal-laced princess at his Father’s feet. He sighs, again, deciding. It would not do for the body of an Edge-subject to be found floating in a shadow-laced place, his hoof-prints marked so sweetly against her ruined hide.

“You’ve wandered far,” he says, his tone gravelly and severe, his only admonishment toward the child. He does not care, really, how far a filly might wander from her mother’s side—though there must be someone who fears for her safety, one of those peons whose job it is to fear. He stalks off from the water’s blood-red edge, his movements slow and stiff with sleep; he expects her to follow.

“You will go home.” She does not understand the mercy he shows, the rarity in it, all because of the salt that adorns her brow.





@[Myrrine]--For Timeline's sake, can we assume this thread is set after the SWP reveal? We can have a thread in the Edge taking her home after this, if you like!

”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!




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