the Rift


[OPEN] Of Ravens and Gods - foals/open

Cheska Posts: 33
Hidden Account
Mare :: Equine :: 16.2 :: 8
Ducky
#1

Cheska
I will be your shield when you are a soldier

Stories had been Cheska's first language. Tales of fools and gods and magic had been passed on to her since her infancy, like a fragile torch to guide her. If she closed her eyes and wrung her mind, she could almost remember the first night she'd spent beside her mother, with the mare's soft voice singing her the legend of the clever young nomad who had stolen fire from the gods. She remembered every word, and it was the first story she'd passed on to her own filly. Since then, they had served her as amusement, security, and sacred tradition. She had no more foals of her own to whom she would pass the secrets, so she had nursed the torch safely in her heart… until now. Though she'd found herself thin on an audience recently, the urge bubbled up from inside her, warm and familiar.

She found the Rotunda the way she had been discovering most things recently- by nearly tumbling headlong into it. She'd been following the hushed sound of voices and the familiar trampled path of common grounds. In her excitable haste, she quickly found herself narrowly avoiding the grand columns that marked the grounds. Immediately, she was reminded of the tale of the wise queen Aristae, and the great, white fingers of the giant that she'd eluded. It was a tale that was supposed to deter children from theft, but as she gazed upon the parallel columns, she could practically picture five bony white fingers diving into the earth, caging the clever unicorn queen.

She wandered the area for a short time, meeting the eyes of the few who'd gathered there with a warm smile or dip of her crown. She soon found herself just outside the structure, near a small assembly of others who seemed as though they could use a distraction. Conversations had gone quiet and hooves shifted, impatient to return to their comfortable herd lands.

Above, a raven called in a low cackle.

She looked up towards the bird, and let the story float back to her, piece by piece. Only once she was sure she could remember the tale did she speak. "Did you know that raven was not always black?" she offered conspiratorially. "It's quite the story…" She met the eye of a near foal. "Interested?"


count] 385
tags] @[Zèklè] @[Breccan] @[Volterra]
ooc]Open to any foals and anyone interested in meeting and greeting.



Breccan Posts: 16
Hidden Account
Stallion :: Hybrid :: 16.1 :: 3 || Birdsong
Tribs
#2
B R E C C A N


I was proud to find the Rotunda, i really was. Because then i could show Tempe and we could play together around it without Mum getting snappy because we make too much noise. But when i arrive with Tempe, there's already a crowd of others there. I felt my shoulders slump in disappointment; i had thought i found something new, something unknown, a place to be Tempe and mine's secret place.

There's an adult here too, and older lady who's not winged or horned like Mum, but she seems nice. There's lines on her face from smiling, and she just feels like Auntie does, only less fearful. I prance towards her, and just as i come into range she speaks.

Raven? I looked up, tilting my crowned head alllll the way back to look at the black bird wheeling above us. It wasn't always black? Then what color had it been? I drop my head as she speaks again, and immediately i bounce forward, forgetting Tempe in my excitement. "Yes! Why wasn't it black? Was it pink? I bet it was pink." The prospect of a story has me giddy, and i turn to look back at Tempe.

Quickly i prance over to her side, tugging at her mane gently before returning towards the woman. I didn't think about 'stranger danger' or 'evil villains'. Because anyone that tells a story can't be evil. I loved storytime, so i plopped my little brown butt right there on the grass, the beauty and interesting-ness of the circle-thingy all but forgotten in my mind. This was far more interesting.

@[Cheska] @[Tempe]


Tempe Posts: 39
Hidden Account
Filly :: Pegasus :: 16hh :: 3 mo.
Haruki :: Common Kitsune :: Electric Lauren
#3
T E M P E

I follow behind my brother, slower than he and quieter in my observance of everything around us. There's so much to see, and so much to do, I wonder how we can rush past everything. Breccan doesn't seem to see everything in the same way I do. For me, it's like time must hold still. I want to see all the colors, all the creatures, to know the names of everything, and yet there is so so much that I don't know. But as he bounds ahead, I want to keep up, so I reluctantly pass by the things that beg for my attention.. the birds in the sky, the butterflies, the grasshoppers, the grass itself. I trot behind him, giggling at his rambunctiousness.

We find ourselves in some new place, a forest area but.. different. Light shines down from the sky, and I find it different from what I might have expected. It's beautiful, not dark or gloomy. Leaves are full in bloom on the trees and grass fills the floor, not so twiggy or muddy except in some places where puddles have stood still. But what really stands out... is this strange form standing alone in the middle of all the trees, its elegance and magnificence astounding. Pale, round, with steps leading up to a platform with a covering overhead.

Breccan seems to see it, but runs ahead to.. some woman who is already here. I'm distracted though by the massive structure that seems to have been plopped down here from the Gods out of nowhere. I stop to stare at it, my gold eyes round with fascination. Who creates things like this? And why? It is beautiful, but I don't understand it, or its purpose. Do little animals go sleep on the platform? Is it to protect from the rain? There are other ways to be protected from the elements, surely. And don't the trees do a fairly good job?

Breccan returns to my side and tugs on my braided tresses, pulling my attention away from what I may someday learn is called the 'Ancient Rotunda.' I stumble after him, my small, painted face turning to see the lady that he spoke with. A light colored, somewhat brown speckled lady stands there quietly, looking for our attention. Breccan leads me to her and plops down on his bottom, ready to listen to her. Politely I dip my nose to her and speak softly. "Miss, I'm Tempe." I smile and more delicately lie down next to my brother, leaning up against his body. I didn't hear what they said about the raven. All I know is that I'm going to lie down next to my brother and listen to whatever the nice lady says.

""
456 words



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Plot Thread


** You may do what you like with Tempe besides dismemberment and death.

Volterra the Indomitable Posts: 785
Dragon's Throat Sultan atk: 8.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 8.5
Stallion :: Equine :: 17'2hh :: 3 HP: 80 | Buff: SENSE
Vérzés :: Common Red Dragon :: Frost Breath & Toxic Breath & Vadir :: Royal Gold Dragon :: Fire Breath & Shock Breath Snow
#4


YOU WILL REMEMBER ME FOR CENTURIES

The first thing the fledgling titan notices about the gathering is that it's led by an equine - an actual, plain equine, just like him. No horns, no wings, no companion, just a regular horse without all the trimmings, and a sigh of relief leaves him. He is in a permanent state of envy at everything the other Helovians possess, but it comes as a welcome surprise to see a fellow none-sparkle-horse, like Mother and Father.

Of course, the rest of the gathering is not so pleasantly plain. There is a colt sat snugly on the ground, a hybrid like Auriel with both wings and horns, greedy little bastard. And a filly, clearly his sister, with just wings, lying beside him. The crimson-eyed youth gives them both a thorough once-over, noting with a hint of pleasure that they're both younger and smaller than him. At just a month of age it is already apparent that Volterra will become a colossus, his feathered hooves and strong legs large enough to hold up a behemoth of an adult stallion. At least the gods gave him something, he supposes. He might be gloriously plain in both colour and design, might be magicless and companionless, but at least he has size, and strength that will blossom with age and training.

Given the twins' closeness, he feels rather like he's intruding, but he has never been one to observe tact so he strolls right in like he has every right to. Unlike the younger children - because in his mind, at a month old, he is the height of maturity and sophistication - the beast does not sit or lie down; he remains standing tall and proud, tufty tail batting against his stout flanks. "I'm Volterra," he introduces proudly, both to the mare and the other foals.

The mare begins to speak, telling them of a raven, and the fact it did not always have feathers the colour of darkest night. At the question of if they're interested in the rest of the story, the boy nods vociferously. "Was he red? When I was born, I was red because I had icky stuff all over me, but now I'm black!" Foal logic!


[ you can't stray from what you are, you're the closest thing to hell i've seen so far  ]
[ use of force/magic on him is permitted aside from death/maiming ]




Myrrine Posts: 179
Deceased atk: 5.5 | def: 9.5 | dam: 5.0
Mare :: Pegasus :: 16hh :: 3 (Orangemoon) HP: 64.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Watermel0nBob
#5
M
Y
R
R
I
N
E

Prancing into the Rotunda, Myrrine couldn't help but have a lightness in her step as she made her way to this new place. Whether it had been because of her emotions finally being vented, or the pleasant company of a newfound friend, the filly wasn't sure, but how she had cherished that night in the Heavenly Fields with the mute yearling. Smiling fondly, remembering the boy with the pearl coat and brilliant green eyes, she couldn't help but quiver with joy before bucking, breaking into a happy canter and coming around the large structure. She marveled at it, hazel eyes scouring the marble and stained glass, lapping in the fabric and the domed roof. How beautiful it was to her, so ancient and inviting in all of its glory. Her hooves skidded to a gentle stop at the sound of something knew, ears pricking as her spotted crown turned to find the source.

There before her, was a beautiful woman, splattered with browns and whites, kind eyes showing through her delicate face. She was surrounded by three foals, all whom seemed intent on listening to her, to whatever she had to say. Whether it was because of the foals or the way the mare smiled, Myrrine felt drawn forward to her with a slight timidness. Wings fluttered upon her back, flickering in the light and gleaming different colors. Swishing milky tail of fluff, the spotted girl finally reached the outskirts of the circle, still listening as the second eldest colt spoke, causing a smile come to her lips. Would she have talked that way when she was born, if her mother had raised her like she should have? Would she have an innocent gleam in her gaze like they all seemed to, or would she would have still been the battered girl that no one loved. Immediately shaking those negative thoughts from her brain, the filly walked to the leftmost side of the crescent of foals, dipping her head politely to the mare and speaking in her bright tones,"Hello, my name is Myrrine. Is it alright if I join in as well? You seem to have something great to tell!" Eyes bright and gangly legs holding her small frame upright, Myrrine didn't once waver, remaining open and pleasant in her new company, simply wanting to stop by for a chat, and perhaps leave with a few new friends.



"Speech"
Text
Thought

OOC: Hello! Thought I would have Myrrine pop in to say hello! Let me know if you wanna be tagged!
WC: 399
TAG: Cheska
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Any force is permitted aside from death or maiming
PLEASE TAG ME IN POSTS! :3

Cheska Posts: 33
Hidden Account
Mare :: Equine :: 16.2 :: 8
Ducky
#6

Cheska

She greeted each new face as they introduced themselves, marveling quietly to herself on each distinctive creature. She still hadn't become entirely accustomed to the horns and feathers of the natives of this land. Some frightened her, some amazed her, and others were utterly baffling. She wondered on the parents of the foals now gathered, how beautiful and strange they must be, with their huge wings and bright eyes and powerful horns. Every new sight pricked at her wanderlust, made her hunger to see the wide world she'd been thrust into.

She was naturally charmed by her first spectators, finding herself quickly brimming with reflected excitement. She laughed as he tugged at his sister, an equally fantastical creature. "He was pink," she chimed gleefully, her voice rising just a little on every word. "And orange and red and purple and blue!" She tossed her head for effect, little ears flopping gracelessly against her face.

Another voice drew her eyes to a darkly colored colt. She was perhaps as pleased as Volterra to see a fellow equine, but she grinned at him just the same as the other two. She heard his theory quietly, her lips quivering until she let out a soft, deep chuff of affectionate air. Guess the days of storks and 'when a mommy and daddy love each other very much' are over… "That's very clever," She admitted indulgently. "But Raven's story is a little different, you see..." She trailed off to welcome the final spectator, a splendidly speckled filly. "Oh yes, yes! You're more than welcome. Make yourself comfortable, dear." She made sure that the small group was settled before she continued, positively glowing with anticipation.

"Well, it's a pleasure, my friends. Glad you could join me. My name's Cheska, and this is the story of why Raven is black." As she finished her introduction, the persistent lilt slipped out of her voice to be replaced by something more mysterious. This was not the voice of an ordinary mare telling a foolish story, but of the fable keeper passing a piece of herself. Her voice hushed, and her head lowered to their eye level, she began…

"Long ago, Raven was the messenger of Moon God, and was her most beloved companion. Each night, he would fly across the world, delivering her orders and protecting her people. In exchange for his service, Moon God made Raven the cleverest and most beautiful of all birds. He shone every color of the rainbow… pink and gold and red and spotted." And here she acknowledged each child as she chose a color. "He wore a beak and talons of silver. His feathers were soft and shiny. He was blessed by all the gods with a lovely song and a clever mind. But despite his many gifts, Raven was also conceited, and he desired to be as beautiful as the gods themselves. Each evening, he would sing in his beautiful voice:

More fair am I than wren or dove
Fair I should be as gods above


One evening as he was singing, Raven was approached by a chickadee. 'What need have you of more finery?' the little songbird asked. 'You are the handsomest bird in this glen.' Raven agreed, but said, 'There is a fish in the stream that shines brighter even than I. If only my feathers could be a little finer.'
The chickadee nodded. 'If you could catch a bolt from the God of Spark, surely you would have the finest feathers.'
So Raven found Spark God in his home, and he gently laid his wings over the god's eyes. Before the god could wonder of the softness of those wings, Raven snatched a bolt of electricity from his horn. Sure enough, the moment he returned with it to his nest, Raven's feathers smoothed like silk and glowed like moonbeams. Raven was pleased with his beautiful wings for a week, but soon he found himself wanting once more. So he sang:

More fair am I than wren or dove
Fair I should be as gods above


This evening, a nightingale landed in his tree. 'What need have you of more finery?' he asked. 'You are the handsomest creature in all the forest.' Raven agreed, but said, 'There is a wolf on the plains that howls a more beautiful song even than I. If only my song could be a little sweeter.'
The nightingale nodded. 'If you could take a feather from the God of Earth's wing, surely you would have the sweetest song.'
So Raven found Earth God tending to a nest of rabbit kits. Eager to distract him, Raven set a fire in the nearby wood. When Earth God beat his mighty wings to extinguish the flames, Raven stole away with one of his shed feathers. Sure enough, the moment he returned to his nest, he sang a song sweeter than had ever been heard on the earth. Raven was pleased to sing his new song for a few days, but soon he desired more. So that evening he sang:

More fair am I than wren or dove
Fair I should be as gods above


This evening, he was visited by a parrot. 'What need have you of more finery?' he asked. 'Surely you are the greatest creature under the sky.' Raven agreed, but said, 'There are Pegasus who fly higher even than I, with hooves and feathers of sparkling gold. If only my beak and talons could shimmer like theirs.'
The parrot nodded. 'If you could take a just a drop of gold from the God of the Sun's tail, surely your beak would glow even brighter.'
So Raven found Sun God as he lifted the dawn across the horizon. With a flash of his beak, he reflected a beam of sunlight into the god's eyes and blinded him. Sun God was very angry, and as he stomped his feet and swished his mighty tail, a drop of liquid gold landed on the ground, and Raven snatched it up in his beak and hurried home. By the time he'd returned to his nest, his beak and talons had turned sparkling gold and he could fly higher than any of the other animals. This time, Raven was pleased for only one evening before he desired more. So he sang:

More fair am I than wren or dove
Fair I should be as gods above


Finally, he was visited by a swan. 'What need have you of more finery?' she asked. 'Surely you are the greatest mortal who ever lived.' Raven agreed, but said, 'What use is it to be the finest of mortals if I will someday die? If only I could be one of the gods.'

The swan rose up and transformed back into a goddess. Moon God was furious with Raven, and in her anger she took back Raven's beautiful colors, silky feathers, his sweet song and his golden talons, and Raven was left as black as the moonless sky. 'Your greed knows no end, Raven,' Moon God said, 'so you must be punished. I take back all my gifts but one… Your clever mind you shall keep, so that you may know how your arrogance has cost you. You will no longer be welcome in my realm. You will fly by day, but by night you must shut your eyes like other birds, never to look upon me again.'

Raven begged for forgiveness, but Moon God would hear no more. She returned to the sky and Raven never saw her again. And that is why Raven and all his children are black."


Cheska was quiet for a long moment. It was not the most cheerful story she knew, to be sure, but she did not believe in shielding children from stories like these. The lessons could be difficult, but any lesson worth learning was. When she'd first heard it, she'd cried for poor Raven, but her mother had hushed her. "We all have our gifts," she repeated the familiar moral, "and those of us that use them with kindness and generosity shine brighter than greedy Raven ever could have." Drab though the speckled roan was, it was a sentiment she would appreciate for many years after.


count] 1374
tags] @[Breccan] @[Tempe] @[Volterra] @[Myrrine]
ooc]


◊ please tag Cheska in all posts
◊ full permission is granted for minor powerplays including
touching, placement and superficial injury


Nasreen Posts: 160
Up For Adoption
Mare :: Pegasus :: 15.1 hh :: 6 (Orangemoon)
Adoptable
#7

It’s silly, the way she’s begun to frequent this Rotunda, paying it a visit at least once every cycle of the moon. Last time the girl was here, she found an orb, but she always returns in the hopes of finding what she saw the time before: the dashing, dancing Bucephalus. A soft sigh flutters from Nasreen’s lips at the thought of the charming stallion. What is it about him, she wonders, that has enraptured her so? She doesn’t know, but her first brush with attraction has left her dizzy and coming back for more…hence the reason she is in the woods today. Eager trot carries her forward, and the maiden only slows just before the treeline. If he is, in fact, there, it won’t do to throw herself out of the woods all breathless and sweaty.

But the girl is to be disappointed yet again, it seems, for as she peeps around a large tree, it is not Bucephalus that comes into view. Instead, she is greeted by the sight of a sizeable crowd…of foals, to be exact. And in the center of the circle stands a mare, the object of their rapt attention. Bemused, Nasreen blinks. Has she stumbled across some sort of school? She lingers behind the tree, curious.

And then! It seems that the princess’ trek here was not for naught, because the mare begins to speak, weaving together a story so magnificent that Nasreen soon loses herself in the narrative, quite forgetting where she is as Cheska tells the tale of the Raven. Delightedly, the girl listens, saving every word away in her mind for later—this will be a wonderful story to add to her collection, and it seems to be Helovian lore as well! Smiling in satisfaction as the tale draws to a close, Nasreen finds that she is rather glad to have journeyed here.

OOC: Sorry for throwing her in; it was just such a good story that I couldn’t resist! She’s currently tucked away behind a tree, so you all can choose to discover her or not. I just wanted her to have IC knowledge of the legend :)

"speech"

Please do not tag Nasreen except for in opening posts and in spars!

Zèklè Posts: 166
Outcast atk: 8.0 | def: 10 | dam: 3.5
Colt :: Pegasus :: 14.1 :: Three HP: 67 | Buff: NOVICE
charks
#8
I'LL BE YOUR NUMBER ONE WITH A BULLET
a loaded god complex, cock it and pull it
His first adventure without Ma was pretty much the worst thing ever, so far. By the time he reached the forest outside the Rotunda he was tired, exhausted even, narrow sides heaving as he greedily guzzled air, trying to suffocate himself with the invisible stuff, to swallow it all like a whale swallows anyone who goes into the ocean (Ma had told him all about whales; he was pretty much an expert on them now). His stomach growled with a painful hunger that only milk could satisfy, and if he was being completely honest he would have confessed that he had no idea how to get home.

Zèklè wanted to cry, but he knew Ma wouldn't be impressed with that at all. So instead he tucked his little wing against his side and jutted his chin out determinedly, bright eyes glittering with unshed tears. He'd have an adventure. He'd do something cool. And then he'd go home and tell Ma all about it, and drink until his stomach was so full he couldn't even move.

Yes, this was altogether a better plan than sitting down and crying like a baby. The little bay squared his shoulders and set out into the woods, bottle-brush tail bobbing in the breeze, small legs covered in an assortment of scrapes which he cannot wait to present to his Ma.

Everything took an upward turn once he reached the Rotunda, which was one of the coolest things he had ever seen. Excitement thundered in his narrow chest- wait until Ma heard about this! She'd be so proud, so impressed with his discovery. He was probably the first to be brave enough to find it, too. Zèklè the Adventurer! Zèklè the Brave! He could hear it now, the praise of the Grown Ups--

But what was this? So he wasn't the first to discover this place. Damn. Well, maybe he could discover what was going on, and report that back to Ma. Maybe he could be a spy, instead of an adventurer. That would be cool, too! As sneakily as possible the boy crept forward, long ears raised toward what he now realized was an assembly, gathered around a tall Grown Up leader. What were they discussing? Plots? Plans? Something called The Raven? Mysterious, indeed!

He would need more information.

---

By the time the tale was ended, Zèklè had forgotten all about his master plan, his hunger, and his scrapes. The littlest boy among those gathered was quivering with an excitement barely contained- "Wow!" he exclaimed into the silence Cheska left behind, young voice bright and brassy and quite impressively loud. "I wan'a ge' all tha c'lors from tha gods! 'Cept I won' get caught, 'cus 'm smar'er fen a rav'n!"

Eager eyes swept about the assembled crowd. His single wing opened and closed in excited anticipation, and the muscle on his left shoulder shivered in time. Clearly, the message had been lost upon the boy. Zèklè grinned, his sunbeam gaze glowing with the gleeful prospect. Sure, lots of the kids there had pretty neat colors, like pink and gold and white and black and his own blue (which was the very best), but none of them had the cool stuff like the Raven got from the gods.

"Who's wif me? We c'n all get c'lors!"

Now that would be something to show his Ma!

Z è K L è
am i more than you bargained for yet?

image credit

Breccan Posts: 16
Hidden Account
Stallion :: Hybrid :: 16.1 :: 3 || Birdsong
Tribs
#9
B R E C C A N


I lean back against Sis when she lays down by me, and right as I do another foal strides in...and I immediately dislike him. He walks like he's all big 'n tough, but I bet Ma or Da could send him running for the hills! Or or or even Sis and I working together!

But before I could suggest such a grand undertaking(hehe big word!), another foal approaches. Only she's old. Like, almost adult. Almost. Okay, maybe not quite, but she's certainly older than Sis and I. Around the time I realize this, the nice lady begins to speak, and I turn to look at her, beaming when my guess was correct and the black colt's wasn't.

Almost stuck my tongue out at him. Almost.

But then the lady begins to speak, and tell us a grand story about the stupid(because seriously. The Raven had it made) Raven and his quest to become a god.

By the end my head is tilted, and I'm kinda in deep thought. You know, like how you get when you see a wall in front of you and no way around it. "Raven was pretty dumb for making the goddess angry." I'm satisfied with my answer, and i looked to my Sis for approval.

Then I see the next arrivals, and blink. One's a tall grown-up-person, who's got wings like Da but no horns like Ma(and me. I saw my reflection. Holy shit I was awesome). She seems kinda like the nice lady, so I stop looking at her, and just in time because another foal arrives. And here i thought Tempe and I would have the entire story all to ourselves(Of course we'd allow the dark kid to stay. I was nice like that).

The little colt speaks, and he's younger than even me. Which is like, seriously little. Scrawny. I kinda felt like if i blew on him he'd go flying. Which was odd because he only had one wing which was even odder which just confused me so I stopped thinking about that.

"That's silly, it's just a story. Besides, I don't think being a rainbow's such a good thing" I knew about stories well enough. Da would tell Tempe and I such wonderful tales whenever he spent the night with us. Plus being every color... talk about an eyesore.



Tempe Posts: 39
Hidden Account
Filly :: Pegasus :: 16hh :: 3 mo.
Haruki :: Common Kitsune :: Electric Lauren
#10
T E M P E

Other foals just like myself and Breccan have appeared. I learn that the newest foals to arrive are named Volterra and Myrrine. They lie down with us, ready to listen eagerly to the story that the lovely mare shall detail for us. She introduces herself as Cheska, and a small, curious smile spreads over my features as my ears perk forward with interest. The tale of the Raven is intriguing, and makes me shudder as I hear of the wrath of the Moon Goddess. I can only imagine the glory of each of the Gods, and wonder how the Raven could have been so foolish as to seek more than he had already been gifted. I shake my small muzzle in pity. Pity that such a blessed bird could have fallen so far. I hope that someday I may meet all the Gods. Not to steal gifts from them, but to learn and ask their blessing. Cheska tells us the moral of the story - that we all have our gifts and should be grateful and appreciative of what we have. I am not blessed with magic like Breccan is, nor do I have his antlers. But I am beautiful and blessed with wonderful feathers. I have the brilliant colors of my mother and father, and I think a wonderful, inquisitive mind. Perhaps I can ask the Gods - POLITELY and with RESPECT - for magic.. someday. But for now I am pleased with my small little body.

Another child had arrived just as the story began and said nothing at first. Breccan says much of what I believe, that the Raven was incredibly foolish. I nod in agreement as he looks at me. Upon Cheska's conclusion, the new foal foolishly claims that he shall be better than the raven and gain all the colors from the Gods. I frown at him - did he not learn his lesson? Breccan claims that it is just a story. But how does he know? Many fables are based on fact, aren't they? I think so. I rise to my feet and make a face at the young child. "I am pleased with what I have been given. I do not want to make the Gods angry." My gold eyes turn to Cheska and I smile gratefully at her. "Thank you for your tale. Do you tell stories like this a lot?" My fluffy tail wags back and forth like a dog's, and I get closer, curious about this mare that tells stories to children. I want to hear more, though I don't want to appear too eager.

""
431 words



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** You may do what you like with Tempe besides dismemberment and death.

Volterra the Indomitable Posts: 785
Dragon's Throat Sultan atk: 8.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 8.5
Stallion :: Equine :: 17'2hh :: 3 HP: 80 | Buff: SENSE
Vérzés :: Common Red Dragon :: Frost Breath & Toxic Breath & Vadir :: Royal Gold Dragon :: Fire Breath & Shock Breath Snow
#11


YOU WILL REMEMBER ME FOR CENTURIES

More foals arrive, and adults, too. It's quite the gathering, and the colt looks around to make mental notes about all of them. His gaze travels to the first boy that got here before him, the winged-and-horned monstrosity with the twin sister, and he's rather smug when Cheska calls him clever over the other kid. Already he has a healthy sense of masculinity and a desire for dominance over other boys, so he's rather pleased he's got one over on the first youngster, the one that is beaming like he got it right, which he so didn't.

Kids. So dumb.

The rest of the story continues, and the beastling listens with a keen ear. It is a story of greed - a story that could have been written about Volterra himself, when he looks deeper into the narrative. What did Mother call them, the tales with morals at the end? Fables. Like the boy who cried wolf, it is a cautionary tale against a certain emotion and alas, it is one the colt already suffers from. He is consumed by it, his desire for a dragon, his desire to own his sister, his desire to be the best at everything he puts his mind to. He wonders idly if he will be stripped of everything if he pushes too far, if he tries to take too much. If he does gain the magic he craves, the dragons he needs, will the gods punish his gluttony by taking everything away from him? He frowns thoughtfully, tail flickering against muscular young flanks as he ponders. Kindness and generosity strike him as two rather overrated emotions, found only in less developed creatures and preferably purged as soon as possible. Will he be kept from true greatness because of his lack of them? Will be be trapped forever as a raven, instead of spreading his wings as a dragon?

He is probably the only one of the foals gathered here that agrees with Raven - that thinks the great black bird was right to pursue everything, to follow his greed and screw the consequences, to take and take and take until he grew gorged on his own magnificence. Which is quite a damning indicament on the young behemoth's state of mind, and of the man he will become.

"Nice story, miss! Where did you hear it?" Did Raven tell her himself? He feels deeply sorry for the creature, losing all his gifts simply for pursuing what he wanted. The colt's attention is snatched by the arrival of another boy, the smallest and youngest yet, another pegasus. But wait, he seems to be lacking in something. A wing, because he has just one. "Who stole your wing?" he asks the other boy without preamble. There, there's that lack of kindness (and tact) he is rapidly becoming famed for. He does not mean to be cruel, as such, or to embarass the boy; he simply doesn't have a particularly developed filter between his brain and his mouth.


[ you can't stray from what you are, you're the closest thing to hell i've seen so far  ]
[ use of force/magic on him is permitted aside from death/maiming ]




Cheska Posts: 33
Hidden Account
Mare :: Equine :: 16.2 :: 8
Ducky
#12

Cheska
holy light, burn the night, keep the spirit strong

The end of a story always left her feeling comforted, as though she'd relived herself of the burden of carrying the torch alone, as though with every ember passed, she'd nursed that fire inside herself a little more. Still, myth keeping was not a one mare job. It was each one's responsibility and right to bear the stories of their ancestors, igniting the flames and passing the light. Storytelling, in Cheska's culture, was a way to honor parents and friends and children as well as those far away gods. A story was an offensive against complacency, a silver thread linking past to present. A story was divine, and the right to tell it was a privilege. This was her purpose, and to see the eyes fixed on her as she finished, she knew that this was magic, deep and ancient. And she was pleased.

She glimpsed a new face behind a tree not so far away as she was finishing, but she dared not compromise the pretty pegasus's anonymity. Gods knew, she would loathe such insensitivity if she was subjected to it. Rather, she tried to catch the unfamiliar eye, a quiet thank you for her presence and an invitation, should she wish to join them.

The first commentary burst out of a far colt, shattering the silence. He'd gathered something completely different from the tale, but she didn't worry over it. In fact, she let them debate among themselves without interference, nodding in agreement or humming thoughtfully. She didn't correct any commentary to better suit her moral. If anything, she was delighted that they were at least thinking. No matter how many foals she met, she'd be forever awed by their limitless imaginations and unquenchable curiosity. These were the things she loved most dearly about children, and why she still often found them the best audience. Adults had seen the limits of reality, all the hard edges and barriers of possibility, and no longer challenged them. She still found a thrill when her inner child drove her to push the walls of the "cold, hard truth" to find out if they really were as firm as convention dictated. Sometimes those apparent barriers would stretch, revealing that life could be just a little bigger than they thought. A little bit more.

She paused briefly for little Tempe. "I suspect that's a wise decision, miss Tempe," she agreed, ears flopping cheerfully. She let the bustle die down briefly before she addressed the questions. "I tell stories whenever I can, as oft as I can. In my home, stories are... Well..." Here, she paused, exaggerating as she screwed up her face in thought. "Picture a prayer you make to the gods. It comes out of your heart and it flutters up to them like a little butterfly. But a story for the gods? That's like an arrow, and you stretch it back and fire that prayer with extreme prejudice. Not to mention... they're a lot of fun." She grinned, snorting a little laugh at the assembly. "I heard that one from a dear friend, and I hope someday you'll pass it to a friend of yours. Kind of Moon God passed on Raven's colors to- Oh. Let's save that one for next time."


count] 541
tags]
ooc]



Myrrine Posts: 179
Deceased atk: 5.5 | def: 9.5 | dam: 5.0
Mare :: Pegasus :: 16hh :: 3 (Orangemoon) HP: 64.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Watermel0nBob
#13
M
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She had been silent the entire time, listening patiently and being attentive, if not enraptured by the tale the mare told. Her smile widened as it went on, eyes wide and happy as she tilted her head every so often, wings fluttering and ears pricked as she honed in on the woman, letting the words tickle her ears and wrap themselves in her mind. When she finally finished, she closed her eyes to let it sit with her, for the tale to be remembered. She knew what the moral had been, and to her it wasn't really about trying to hear a story to learn a lesson, but rather to just sit and enjoy the company of others more her age for once, even if she was older. There wasn't much silence after the story though, because soon almost all of them had something to add.

Each piped up with different questions, theories, answers, things that only made Myrrine blink, before smiling and letting them speak. Soon her eyes were on the one winged boy, his comment causing a giggle to escape her. Some were more goal-oriented than others, and he seemed to be at the top of the chain. She only dipped her head though, flicking her ears slightly and finally speaking after Cheska finished,"I don't know, I think I rather like who I am just fine. Spots and all." Giggling even louder at the thought, she slowly turned herself away, looking at all of them with that same friendly smile, but deciding to take her leave. She had enjoyed the tale, but she wanted to explore now, and she felt that she wouldn't get a word in edgewise as it was with all the younger ones being very opinionated. Flicking her fluffy tail in a slight wave she began walking away, calling behind her cheerfully,"Thank you for sharing that wonderful tale, Cheska. It was a pleasure meeting you all!"



"Speech"
Text
Thought

OOC: Lol sorry I'm out. Didn't wanna keep holding up the thread, thanks guys!
WC: 323
TAG: @[Breccan]
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Any force is permitted aside from death or maiming
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