the Rift


[OPEN] The Surgeon Awakes

Adelric Posts: 101
Hidden Account
Stallion :: Hybrid :: 16.3hh :: 1.5 [Birdsong]
Tobias :: Common Cerndyr :: Lamplight Sevin
#1
Within the Basin, the half-child is safe to think what he wants and do as he pleases. He has no mother or father to answer to- none of the adults in the land even seem to notice that he is here. He doesn’t mind, of course. His sister is the one who wanted to come here and who hoped to live the type of life that this place could offer to her. The half-child only wishes to study and learn, to educate himself on matters of life, the earth, magic, the gods… whatever he can learn, and from whomever he can learn it.

In particular, as of late, his mind has been occupied with thoughts of body parts and blood. On his chest, a scar sits- a reminder of the first time that he met Erebos, and slipped over a tree- the first time he saw blood- but it’s another memory that has been haunting him as of late. A stallion with no eyes, a young girl with two, the thought in his head that he might take one of hers and give it to the black stallion so that he might see again. Of course, those two are long gone, and he isn’t even sure where he wound find them again, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t other subjects…

Walking with Tobias, the half-child circles around the hot spring as the warm summer sun drapes across the pairs’ backs. It is here, in some shrubbery that grows around the waters, that the half-child finds something exceedingly peculiar. A small leather bag with a drawstring sits nestled deep inside a bush- something long forgotten? The half-child doesn’t think so, the bag looks new. Curiosity overtakes him and he bulls the bag from the bush, setting on the ground and nosing it apart until he can see what is within it.

Inside, the half-child finds the most curious object he has ever seen in his life, although he isn’t certain that he knows what it is. Come out, he thinks at it as he unsuccessfully tries to dig his lips deep enough into the bag to grab it. Fortunately for him, as he withdraws his nose, he does not need to grab it. Seemingly of its own volition, the object comes out of the bag and floats there before him.

What is it? he queries to Tobias, not expecting a verbal answer. Dunno, comes a deep voice in his mind, causing Adelric to turn his head slowly to the cervid. A furrowed brow demonstrates his confusion, for Tobias has certainly never spoken before, but with so many mysteries at hand the half-child decides that it would be best to return his attentions to the object floating in the air. Go up, he thinks and the object obliges. Curious… most curious, and so the half-child studies it: curved metal tip, firm but thin material hanging behind it, very pointed end…

A gentle smirk falls across his lips as he comes up with an idea for its use. He had dreamed of such a thing once, but did not expect it to be real. Could it be? he queries the cervid, but receives the same simple answer as before- Dunno.

@[Erebos], @[Aithniel] :: Adelric found his custom item surgical needle, controlled by mind thoughts. He’s probably going to discover his horn scalpel magic at some point too, I dunno.
Adelric
We only have what we give.
x - x
Permission granted to use magic or physical force with Adelric at any time for any reason to any degree, with the exception of killing him.

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

Erebos Posts: 474
Aurora Basin General atk: 7.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.1hh :: Four HP: 75.5 | Buff: DANCE
Orsino :: Plain Kitsune :: Dark Illusions & Enyo :: Common Griffon :: Draining Clutch Heather
#2

The lithe scion spent hours chiseling and sculpting finery from fire: eyes ablaze, touch igniting, dipping down into the river embankment and seizing fine ferns and long cattails. It was becoming easier to kindle a little blaze, just one simple, infidel caress, one stroke of raw, hard anger (thoughts of friends leaving, musings of hateful contortions and corruptions, moments of possible loss and strife), and the stalk would burst into a wild, singular inferno. He’d marvel at it for a few seconds, gaze intrigued over its dying facets, its curling, withering fronds, its inaudible outcry, it’s intangible death. Before it met its final demise and spring more fire upon the earth, scorch and ruin, he’d toss it into the unfreezing lake, watch it sink into the chilling, cool depths, gone but not forgotten. The little beast would summon the invocations and rituals over and over again until he felt drained and tired, the pull of listlessness sink over his marrow and bones, or instead, meet the expiring vegetation at the water’s edge, dance across the serene gallows and thank it for all the blessings and potency it had showed him, hum a final hymn as it descended into the chasm’s bed. The sensation of power immersed him into more curious folds, pondering if he had more, if he could summon every ounce of puissance in the world and show the realms, the empires, the sovereigns, true mastery and supremacy, galvanizing dreams and exposing ambitions through the crisscross measures of a juvenile on the brink of discovery and maturity; basking in the wake of determination and aspirations. The princeling would have spent another afternoon here, engulfed in flames and sunsets, had a familiar pair of scents not drifted around his nares, swindling him from further explorations: like a tiny explosion, he gathered every ounce of his core, of his movement, of his motion, and sprung into actions, chasing the owners across rime fields and tundra meadows.

Tethered and tied into a range of excitement, his eyes peered over the expanse, narrowed to catch the sight of a tiny deer and its companion, a spotted boy likely locked in study. He had so many things he wanted to tell Adelric, goodness, how long had it been since they last met, that his limbs were a fury and his maneuvering beyond chaotic, foiling and toiling in rapid, rebellious, bold extremes – he launched over roots, over patches of forlorn, isolated snow, past open caverns and intriguing mirrors, longing to reach his beloved friend. The yearning built in his heart, rapid and swift, because there were things to share and express, to show and compose! He’d seen giant turkeys gobbling in turkeys, fed them a multitude of meals for a tiny egg that was not to be his, he’d discovered he could waltz across water, he’d met other winged creatures and learned how they flew and why he’d never leave the ground, he’d set a companion aflame and then realized how much domination lived and breathed inside him, if he could only coax it out. In a breathless bellow, he yelled across the scenery, exposing his appearance and expeditious ascension towards the hot springs. “Adelric! Tobias!” He followed the echo, strong and enduring, beginning his long-awaited diatribe in haste and without forethought towards the speckled child’s actions. “It’s been a while! I have so many things-“ He paused, examining the careful scrutiny the other colt paid to the earth, furrowing his brow in matching speculation and curiosity, until the sharp, pointy, odd thing floated in mid-air and he couldn’t hold in his excited gasp, bursting from him in ruffian inquiries. “What is that?!”


Image Credits

Adelric Posts: 101
Hidden Account
Stallion :: Hybrid :: 16.3hh :: 1.5 [Birdsong]
Tobias :: Common Cerndyr :: Lamplight Sevin
#3
So enamored by what he has found, his mind twisting and whirling with ideas and thoughts and ideals, the child hardly notices his friend approaching on the horizon. Instead, his bi-hued eyes focus intently on the needle that bobs in the air. Go left, he commands and the syringe obliges. The movement is jerky, unpracticed, unsteady. Right, he thinks then, and the syringe again obliges, swaying right while it’s suture tail dangles and sways in the wind. Curious, he thinks, with brow furrowed in thought and contemplation. Can it make more complicated movements? Can it dance and swirl if he thinks in motions, instead of words? Can it dance intricately through the air, instead of jerkily? And what happens if it touches flesh? Will it dance so easily, or will he have to think harder and more thoroughly? Will he feel pressure in his mind if he tries? So many questions, and no answers to be had yet. He imagines it will hurt, to have the needle pressed through flesh, so he will not try on himself or Tobias. Another willing (or perhaps unwilling) participant will have to be found.

Nevertheless, his thoughts and considerations are put on hold when a familiar voice calls out. Tobias, too, withdraws his gaze from the needle and turns his gaze to Erebos. A happy, but reserved, bleat passes his lips in greeting. He has always enjoyed the macabre prince, a friend who was there right from the moment of his birth. Silently, the half-child accepts the words of the prince, bi-hued gaze glancing back to the needle as Erebos offers his query. “I think it’s for sewing flesh,” he answers plainly. Scientific, straight-forward, he does not dance or skirt around the issues. “I found it here in the bush. I dreamed of one, once.” Pursing his lips and screwing them to the side, he wonders if he should place any value in dreams, or if it is only coincidence that he has done so. Another question to be pondered, perhaps. But not now.

“What were you going to tell me?” he urges then, mind whirling with ideas on how he should use this gift he has found, but not willing to ignore his friends excitement. For any other, he surely would have just turned and walked away, or perhaps offered them a visual demo on their own flesh of what the object did. But Erebos? Never the prince- not the only friend he has in this world. The cervid, on the other hand, scans the horizon for sight of the filly Aithniel. He knows that the half-child does not particularly enjoy her company, if only for the reminder that the half-child has had to forsake his mother and his history but Aithniel can walk freely with wings through the land. What if he sees her? The cerndyr does not know, but he watches anyways, ever-faithful to the child that has accompanied him through life and given him so much.
Adelric
We only have what we give.
x - x
Permission granted to use magic or physical force with Adelric at any time for any reason to any degree, with the exception of killing him.

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

Erebos Posts: 474
Aurora Basin General atk: 7.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.1hh :: Four HP: 75.5 | Buff: DANCE
Orsino :: Plain Kitsune :: Dark Illusions & Enyo :: Common Griffon :: Draining Clutch Heather
#4

A day of discovery: riveted, his scrutinizing gaze followed the movement of the sharpened needle, dangling in different directions, keen and honed, swayed and directed by invisible hands. Adelric must have had some sort of inert, inward power, capable of maintaining the lift and flight of the tiny sword, and the boy was instantly proud of his friend. Erebos had never thought or considered controlling objects, his potency and clarity came from drumming up enchantments and invocations, the spiraling, smoldering puissance of fire and wandering across oceans, tempting Poseidon. His careful examination of Adelric and his new instrument left him pondering and wondering over what he’d do with it. It was small, but Erebos never presumed anything tiny couldn’t become dangerous: maybe he could stab others with it? He tilted his head, in complex examination, meandering and puzzling through the wares, before his spotted friend informed him of its purpose: sewing flesh. The little demon shrugged, never intent on healing, mending, or rendering skin and sinew back together (after all – wasn’t warfare about scalding and maiming, ripping and tearing?), but Adelric yearned for a life of doctoring or administering soothing contortions, he wouldn’t admonish his ambitions. A smile followed suit, bright, exuberant gaze pinpointed back upon his companion, an amiable affirmation pursuing and persistent, an echoing bellow over the hot springs’ threshold. “Cool! You can control it?” The princeling didn’t tell him of his dreams, because sometimes they were frantic and filled with fire, other moments sprung together in gallant, knighthood adventures, and in the darkest threads, fueled and infused with so much iniquity he thought he’d drown in its murk. Instead, he lowered his head to smile and pat Tobias along one of his ears, briefly distracted by the friendly fawn, still feeling the yearning for his own bonded, striving and trying for an egg yet to be his. Eventually, he told himself, because he was persistent, determined, and resolute, and somehow, someway, he’d triumph. Adelric’s query brought him back to the present, and the lithe lad remembered his excitement over all the experiences he’d managed to gather and nestle in his short lifespan. Would his friend find them all intriguing? Were they worth examining? Were they as wonderful as a floating needle, a miniscule sword? He shrugged, bestowing the opportunity for the other youth to regale in them or not (but the back of his eyes glimmered, shards of the ambitious, for he loved the notion that he carried power, could one day wield it for war or crusades). Inching closer, he leaned toward the colt and drew his voice to an earnest, restless whisper, containing all of his exhilaration in one unwinding moment, leonine tail swinging back and forth, twitching and contorting. “I’ve discovered my magic!” He paused, unwound little conspiring croons, a cheeky, impish grin coiling across his lips. “Do you want to see?”


Image Credits

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


It is with a certain reluctance that Öde departs from the deep dwellings of the caves where his mother lay to rot and his tree took to root. The situation was still a puzzle to his death-addled brain, but survival was all about adaptation and he was swift to pounce on this opportunity of life. Besides, he was a colt now grown, he didn't really need his mother any more. It didn't change the fact that he wanted her though, or that he missed her. Stallion by age he felt no older in heart, particularly given how much of his life had been stolen away in the clutches of the nefarious. He was stunted, to some degree, which made him take to heart what few lessons he had been taught.

Still, he stumbled and staggered north, to the home he'd started to carve out in the snow. Lena was there, his second mother, and although the bloody sprawl of his damn was still fresh in his mind, which made it harder to feel for Lena, he couldn't deny that he took comfort in her. Comfort was what he needed now, that and her guiding songs. If not to heal him this time, at least to lead him, grow him, mature him. He liked Lena, and he wasn't the only one. She was a likeable mare, a trait he was desperate for in himself.

Something mother had once said he was.

Ice crunched under foot as Öde moved over the permafrost, though Tallsun was evident, even here in the frigid domain. Weariness ran through his body, causing him to waver as he passed the sentinel. He leered up at it, unsure if it would recognize him after all this time (where did he go?), but he took a breath and stepped past it untouched. It filled him with a new-found vigor, that silent acceptance, and so it was he drew upon the colts at play in his search for his Songbird.

He paused at the outside of their pairing, close enough to see, but not hear. They were younger than him, but he felt the same excitement and wonder. "You should approach," October urged him sweetly. It surprised him, because mother had always been very domineering in his younger days, lording over him with her shadows and her stories. She laughed in his head. "You need friends! The DemonKing had lots of friends." She said exactly what he needed to spur him on, so he slipped in behind Erebos, smiling just at the thrill of meeting them.

"Hi!" he announced cheerily, so easily shedding his misery with this new discovery of camaraderie. "I'm Öde. What are you guys doing?" He craned his head around to see what held their fascination, red eyes scrunched up in a frame of black as he saw the hovering needle. "What's that?" he asked, curious, awed, even slightly jealous. He always wanted to have more than everyone else, because mother told him he could, and would.

Meanwhile, he hadn't even realized the awakening of his own inner magic, although that could explain the dull buzz droning in the back of his head, and the heaviness he felt inside of him - although that could also be from the act of revival after weeks of death. Either way, he was gradually leaking out an ability. It crawled like an invisible smoke in a radius around him, snuffing out the magic of the other boys, though it had not the strength to quell the properties of companions or items, instead tugging at the strands that hummed inside horses.
ÖDE
IT IS NOT A GOD'S DUTY TO BOW TO DENIZENS OF MORTAL FLESH

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

Adelric Posts: 101
Hidden Account
Stallion :: Hybrid :: 16.3hh :: 1.5 [Birdsong]
Tobias :: Common Cerndyr :: Lamplight Sevin
#6
If only Erebos knew the dark dreams that Adelric had. Though his needle seemed to imply that he would be a doctor, a mender, a follower of d’Artagnan and Lena, there was much more in his twisted mind. He dreamed of surgeries- of removing portions of living creatures to catalogue how they reacted. He wondered about sewing those portions onto others, to see if they would remain living. Some nights he dreamed of opening an abdomen, and seeing what was inside and how it worked. Or perhaps a chest, so that he might see the beating heart within. He could feel his own, pounding with excitement at the very ideas, but he dare not speak them. Part of him, the timid and curious part, still feels that Erebos would abandon him if the dark prince knew what evils lay within his mind. He is no mender at all, but a Dr. Mengele dreaming of twisted experiments on unwilling participants.

“It seems so,” he responds as Tobias croons in enjoyment at the dark prince’s touch. White, the cervid thinks, and Adelric nods his head as his eyes glance to the hair in the cerndyr’s antlers. It seems it is a matter for another moment, though, as Erebos inches forward. Craning his neck out, the half-child listens to the prince’s whisper with eager ears. A smile even graces his normally neutral face- excitement for the deserving gift that has been bestowed upon his friend. “Yes!” he whispers back, before jerking his head up in surprise. The appearance and voice of another, an unwelcome intruder on their meeting, has surprised him.

“Talking,” the half-child says dryly, his smile faded- not for any inherent dislike of the stallion, but rather because he is reserved around those he does not yet know. Besides, talking is a perfectly legitimate answer, in his mind. “It is for sewing flesh,” he states then, his mind already trying to direct the needle back into the pouch from whence it came. The motion is clumsy, unpracticed even, but eventually the half-child manages to conceal it once more. Picking it up with his lips, he then laces the string around one of Tobias’ antlers, letting it dangle there for safe keeping. Finally, he waits for the prince to take the lead, drawing his cues from the braver boy that he thinks so fondly of.

Is this newcomer to be friend, or foe?
Adelric
We only have what we give.
x - x
Permission granted to use magic or physical force with Adelric at any time for any reason to any degree, with the exception of killing him.

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

Erebos Posts: 474
Aurora Basin General atk: 7.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.1hh :: Four HP: 75.5 | Buff: DANCE
Orsino :: Plain Kitsune :: Dark Illusions & Enyo :: Common Griffon :: Draining Clutch Heather
#7

The flurry of being able to showcase his magic, truly compose, wield it, strike it against stone or rubble caused another flutter of excitement: he wanted the world to know he was powerful, to realize he had talent, he had capabilities, he had the chance to flourish and shine, mold the earth to his designs, reign with Machiavellian interludes. Adelric’s acceptance was all he needed, and the dark princeling twisted and turned over which one to orchestrate first; the brilliant, wild sparks of fire or the endless chasm of Poseidon precision. Crouching down, low into the reeds, he embarked towards the flames, hastening the fuels of his kindling with steady breaths, rapt concentration, and a narrowed gaze. It pulsed within him, ferocious and eager, steady and sure, a maddening wave of infernos and heat, frothing and foaming, searing and seething, and as he reached out to touch one of the strong, enduring grasses, he could feel it churning within him, a future abyss –

And then…nothing.

He rose back up to his height immediately, confused, bewildered, shocked, and a little heartbroken. The scion’s brows crinkled, furrowing, looking more and more like his father everyday, staring blankly at the reeds, not noticing the approach of another colt, not realizing his enchantments, his invocations, had been ripped away by the presence of the stranger, disappointment flooring his features one by one. He could find no explanation, he could trace no riddle or foundation, and his face faltered into a very pathetic-looking sadness, as if someone had run over his favorite toy. Erebos dropped his cranium, murmuring towards the thicket, Adelric and Tobias, ashamed by what had transpired. “I’m sorry. It’s not working.” The boy shook his skull, not understanding or comprehending the matter, because he’d practiced for so long, it was odd to have it simply not exist, especially when he had melted it within his body, how it had run rampant through his veins…. “I don’t know why.”

His gaze locked upon Adelric’s for a moment, awaiting to witness the other lad’s dismay and disenchantment (perhaps that notion cut worse, for he’d truly longed to show his friend everything he’d learned, and the bitter, rancorous bile needling his throat traced patterns of misery), only to watch the spotted one’s contortions rankle into surprise. The little beast twisted his cranium towards the imminent direction, eyes narrowing for a few fractions to glance and stare and scrutinize the newcomer. He looked oddly familiar, courted and coated in black, in sketches of crimson, but Erebos couldn’t place where he’d last seen him (somewhere along the Basin fringes, perhaps?). He could be close to their age even, around their lanky, long-limbed statures and physiques, those gangly times where the body couldn’t keep up with their rapid development and ensured awkwardness for a series of months. The infidel tilted his head minutely, throwing his downcast features aside, granting camaraderie and exuberance where Adelric channeled quiet contemplation. “Hi Ode! Nice to meet you! I’m Erebos!” His speech was wild and buoyant, like most of his days, but as the opposing child asked him what they’d been doing, dissatisfaction tumbled into his shoulders and down through his toes, smile rapidly chased away. “I was trying to show him my magic, but its not functioning right now.”



Image Credits

Öde Posts: 145
Aurora Basin Disciple atk: 5 | def: 10 | dam: 5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17 hh :: 4.5 HP: 64.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Blu
#8


There is an immediate wrath that flares up inside Öde as Adelric responds so simply. The dryness of his voice is like a rough displeasure to Öde's ears, and in response they tilt back slightly, seeming to tug his lips into a thin line. It's all he unveils, it's all he has time for, as the other colt swiftly casts aside the competitive tension with a sweet song of welcome. Öde turns to look at him, ears perking up with the intrigue of Erebos' excitement. All the other colts he'd known had been like Adelric, stoic monoliths of hidden superiority struggles, each speaking just with the height of their heads and the tightness of their muscles. All of them playing the game of thrones...

He had found a brother among the cut throats, but he wasn't sure he had actually found a friend. Would that be different here, bathed in the northern lights of a homestead, rather than kinship of career and ruthlessness?

Öde proffers a wry smile for Erebos' honest confession, granting one of his own. "I wish I had some," Öde murmured with a gentle sadness; the ache for power and control. "At least you know you have some... even if it's only some of the time." A stronger smile was proffered, like a hand extended towards the dark colt.

His attention drifted back to the speckled lad, trying again to be civil, though he had a sourness on his tongue from their first words. Perhaps in time he wouldn't be so quick to anger, holding it for worthless reasons and countless ages, but for the moment the god-child was impudent. "Is that yours?" Öde asked, pointing with the length of his horn at the antlered beast which Adelric used like a coat rack for his things. Another pang of jealousy and want. In the presence of these children Öde was found so very lacking, and he hated it.

ÖDE
IT IS NOT A GOD'S DUTY TO BOW TO DENIZENS OF MORTAL FLESH

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


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