the Rift


[OPEN] Watch Words [Welcoming]

Thranduil the Laurelin Posts: 598
Outcast atk: 5.5 | def: 11 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.2 hh :: Eight HP: 77 | Buff: ENDURE
Haldir :: Common Cerndyr :: Dark Mist Hawk
#1


It was with a twisted smile the golden had accepted the girl’s request. He had nodded, and in spirit of their herd’s relations, not given a second thought to the Pegasus mare. The Falls was an enemy, and lately, the greatest annoyance the Basin had to deal with. The girl would soon learn that. She would learn much. Especially if she brought what she seemed to now promise to their ranks. Turning, the golden had walked from the gathering, with the girl hopefully following. It was a small prize to bring home a new recruit. Though the golden had been most active in other places, he also knew he needed to keep ahead of that pink spy, as most seemed to still call her. Hotaru, still under his finger, was a tricky sort to deal with. And the golden as determined to leave her below him. Of course those thoughts were for other days and other moods. The current state of the gold, in his wandering thoughtfulness was going places far beyond the Basin. For summer was closing, and as always his mind wandered to times long past, and lands far away.

That didn’t stop him though from at least trying to seem interested in this girl. He turns with a ghost of a smile lingering on his lips. “The Basin is the northern most territory. Winter can get brutal, but here in tallsun it is quite nice.” It is all he says for a while. Only if she had questions would the gold turn, ready to answer them. When the path was wide enough for two to walk abreast he did her the courtesy of allowing it. Not a usual nicety of the gold, but perhaps it had to do with his strange mood.

As they walked further north and the air chilled his eyes and mind did seem to clear. Up the rock slopes they went until they came to the ice wall. “The Arch, hidden in this ice, is the only way in. There.” Haldir’s little frame, well used to this track slips from view. Coming to it the gold pauses and looks to her. “Take care, the ice is ever sharp.” Cloven hooves step almost mindlessly, having trodden in and out this way so often. Of all in this home he had perhaps journeyed the most about the lands, as he should, and all the slips and trips in this path were well known.

At last the close walls of ice give way and light floods into their sight. Opening before them is the Basin. A large deep valley walled in my ancient mountains. Looming tall above they promised frozen death, but here, in their embrace they gave life. The gold stops, always enjoying the view of looking over the vale from this high place. “Welcome to the Basin.” He nods to the two towering structures on either side. “We were well protected by our mountains, and these, sentinels, they keep watch on who comes and goes. As long as you come as one of us you have no reason to fear them.” Had the gold ever feared them? Not particularly, but with the new mechanism the Engineer had given him, his nerves did tingle under their gaze. “Beyond is the valley, there is always tundra grass and the never freezing lake. Beyond that is the hot springs, and lining the walls I’m sure you’ll find a suitable cave. The healer’s cave, should you need her, is there.” He points to these places as he mentions them. The non reflecting mirror, in the seerer’s cave he does not mention, for he has never had the curiosity to venture there.

The horned head lifts and a call rings out, announcing a new comer. Then he turns once more to her. “Deimos and Ophelia rule over these lands, and I am the Theif.” It was the first she would hear of his title and he watched how she would take it given their prior meeting. Of course it didn’t put him in very good light considering how little he had noticed her, but should she care to venture on that thought she might also notice how his lie of a warm hearth of a home grew convincing. With pause the gold waits to see if any will join them. If not it was no loss, the golden had done this all before and well experienced in setting up a new recruit.



OOC:: Welcome! I'll get your rank changed, and then you can access the secret board and see what's up. =] If no one else posts here than us then we'll just keep going and see what Rexanna would like to 'become'. If she has any questions feel free to ask them while their travelling or once they arrive.
@[Rexanna]
Identity Inventory:: Cashmere, Destry
Wardrobe:: Golden cloak, Circlet, Armband, Satchel-hidden (knife, polearm)
Thranduil
His words are clever and bright

Credits: Image by Schwartze @ DA

[Image: 5381546acbe33]
Feel free to use any force/magic on Thranduil, short of killing him.
Please tag in every post.
Ask Thranduil any question in the world, he'll be forced to answer on his profile. PM with your question.

Rexanna Posts: 499
World's Edge Mare atk: 4.5 | def: 8.0 | dam: 5.5
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15hh :: 7 years HP: 61.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Marembo :: Marbled Polecat :: None Skylark
#2
<style="padding:5px;">

CYNICS ALL AROUND, THEY WEAR MASKS I WANNA SEE.
THEY MAKE AUDIBLE SOUNDS BUT NEVER SAY ANYTHING.

It was quite a sensational feeling, as the golden stag had accepted her offer. The mare wasn't entirely sure what to think of this male, yet; but she knew that with time she would hopefully learn at least a little bit about him that would hopefully cure this intrigued feeling that resided in the back of her skull. It was quite a scene, so she thought. Both of them encased in gold, however he appeared far more well off with all of his sets of trinkets and clothing. It looked as though he would stay quite warm if this place he spoke of was as quiet as the male made it seem. The heat of the day seemed to die off slightly as Rexanna followed the male closely, ears twitching and head bobbing with every word he spoke. She was quite curious about how she would be accepted, as well. Only time could tell considering she hadn't a clue what she was getting herself into. His words of the Basin still quite sharp in her mind, painting a small picture of what she thought the landscape would resemble.

Stepping lightly near him, she pondered what kind of questions she could ask. As they approached more north, she noticed it began to get colder and colder and colder. It didn't truly bother the golden mare, as the forest she had been in prior seemed to be quite hot. It was quite a comfortable change. "Ah, sharp ice and hidden entries. Sounds quite fun." She admitted, offering a gentle laugh. It was truthful to her though, she felt a tiny bit more at home knowing it would be difficult for intruders to get in. Although it wasn't like she couldn't protect herself, she was just one of those minds that would rather not have to deal with that type of ordeal. With that thought in her mind, she stepped carefully in after him, eyes following the deer that accompanied Thranduil as they both seemed to have almost a robotic feel to them as they stepped on. More than likely from doing it over and over again. Her teal eyes danced around the wonders that came forth when they approached the stop.

Welcome to the Basin. The words almost seemed to echo in her head as she took in the wonders in front of them. The wind picking up a bit in the altitude that they resided in, and shifted the position of the golden chain that attached to her horn. Her eyes watching carefully as the male pointed out everything she'd need to know. Her mind making mental notes over every few seconds just in case she really needed to know where to go. Her head turning to him when he paused in speech. "This is even more stunning than you had explained it." She spoke calmly and gently and allowed him to continue as her head turned in the directions he pointed and spoke of which places were which. Watching the scenery in front of them, it seemed as though it was something that Rexanna had never seen before. There was a slight spark of excitement growing in the mare's barrel that allowed her to keep her mind clear.

Her horned head turning lastly back to Thranduil as he called out over the Basin, eyes watching his every movement as he spoke up to her once more. Thief. Well now, that makes sense. She offered him a gentle smile. "Ah, I knew there was something that intriguing about you. It sounds like quite the excitement." She said softly, offering him a gentle nod. "Is that how you're so great with words?" The mare spoke up once more. Her voice strong and inviting. It was at this point that she was quite curious to see what kind of equines would appear before them. She shook out her mane a bit, swishing the white and black tail over a bit and shifting her weight. Holding her head strong, but not too high to be offensive, the mare just wanted to be sure that she made a good impression.

A small sigh emitted from the mares lips as her teal eyes turned on Thranduil again. "Thank you." Words were spoken gently to him, pleased to have found a home for the first time since her first home. She awaited to see what it would appear to be like, being a part of something bigger instead of focusing just on herself. She would have to see, though. And hope that she would fit in well.

"SPEAK!"


Tagged; @[Thranduil]
Notes; Thank you! :D It's quite exciting, so I'm sure she'll be able to find something to fit in to!
[Image: lovelyskylark.gif?8]
Permission given for moderate power play.
Feel free to use magic/force on Rexanna, without killing her.
Please tag in every post!

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
#3
The endless cycle bore repeating and repeating, circulating in an unraveling, fettered core. They raced and rushed from the Threshold, general sentiments, aspirations, and ambitions coiled amongst their sanctions, bleeding nuances or fading remnants of a life once lived; all the while, the monster roamed his sector, the hidden weapon, the furtive sword, locked and clasped in the icy sections of their newfound sanctuary. If he didn’t hold a throne, he probably still would have been the brooding, unrelenting aspect to the glacial walls and heathen outcrops, another barb, another thorn, in the absence of virtuous endeavors and puerile efforts, sinking into cataclysm wiles and nefarious ruminations, bending and cavorting with devils and demons. And still, he was the welcoming party to their arrival, one last gesture to impart them with acceptance or dismissal. The latter had happened more often from intruders, the foolish interlopers coveting attention and entitlement through their wandering ways, and he’d administered the briefest of their considerations (and then threatened, warned, and intimidated when all the former decrees went unheeded, driving his sword through their hearts, through their sinew, through their flesh, listening for their last breath, extinguishing the final remnants of their idiocy – another of the inept no longer bothering him). Those that were worthy, however, were given due consideration, a narrowing of his piercing gaze, a raw, unholy speculation: where would they fit? What did they yearn for? Were their convictions the same as the rest of their mottled lot, often tied and tethered to bestial, bloody factions, rampaging into licentious creeds, tarnishing and tainting their souls? Or would they have to hide behind shadowy veils and silent tents, more furtive entanglements, more specious regards? Deimos the Reaper was already renowned for his outlook on life: he killed, he massacred, he devoured, he destroyed; but his herd had long since meandered in those footsteps since their creation, puttering about the Steppe until someone found their suffering, their melancholy, worthy of granting them land. What would one more do for their empire?

Thranduil and a newcomer were on the horizon. A portion of him didn’t truly enjoy granting the gilded Thief any amiable affects upon his successful ventures, but then another portion of him knew he was obliged to do so (perhaps one of the few Lordly things about his character, if one forgot the overprotective gestures or droll attempts at politics). Upon his approach, he proffered the slightest nod towards the golden brigand, and if there was a smirk sliding along the edge of his mouth, he noted naught of the sort (because the stranger; a light-hued femme seemed quite attentive to the mercenary and it made him almost laugh); to the other, he granted the same, ceasing movement as he stood before them, imperial and potent. His presence was of strength, of dominion, of unholy supremacy and overwhelming prowess, because he was Mephistopheles’ honored recipient, given too many arts and strokes of the infernal, and hardly any of his charming charisma. Reserved, reticent, and nonchalant, his features stoked naught: blank slate, while his chilling eyes rested like rapiers, gazing upon the pale mare in quiet speculation. What did she offer the Basin, and what did she want in return? “Welcome.” The tones were gruff, blunt, keen-edged as always, rarely in use and even when they were, the notions were spare, few and far between. “I am Deimos. Who are you?”


@[Thranduil] @[Rexanna]
DEIMOS
delivered from the blast
last from a line of lasts
and now the kingdom comes crashing down undone
background pattern by webtreatsetc.deviantart.com
image credits

Thranduil the Laurelin Posts: 598
Outcast atk: 5.5 | def: 11 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.2 hh :: Eight HP: 77 | Buff: ENDURE
Haldir :: Common Cerndyr :: Dark Mist Hawk
#4


The small talk was always hard to tolerate, but he couldn’t deny he liked this kid. She had a sass, and spunk. If she did have a flare for stealth he’d welcome her. In fact, with her beauty and style she reminded him a lot of Hotaru, and having another one of those on his team was not an unwelcomed proposition. As she looks about and makes a small comment or two the gold only nods. But her reaction to his news is most lovely. Her eyes seem to spark and lips curl into a smile of expectation. The gold could not have been more pleased with himself. Of course it was guessable by her, but that didn’t matter. How could it? When others react to your name and title as such nothing really mattered for a while.

To her question though he was interrupted by a coming figure which grabbed his attention. It was a dark brooding devil, but it still brought a small smirk to his face. Deimos had stood here not long before and wanted to banish the golden son who now stood proven and valuable. Still fresh were the scars about his flesh marking his challenge to she who tried to steal the gold. Of course those moments were in the past, so the gold expected little more than a glance as was customary. But to his soothing ego a nod was given, and returned with a dip of his horns. It was clear the attention was on his color twin. With dark moving eyes the gold watches her. Would she squirm under his hard gazing judgement? Cave in with a guilty heart? Or raise her head against the doom knocking upon her soul? It was always a great show to watch. You would know a creature by how they reacted to Deimos. How they would react to a living embodiment of death there to remind them of their mortality. The golden knew better of course. Deimos may have the powers of death mastered, but he was just as all around them, flawed and mortal. It made it all the fun to watch, like having a backstage pass.


OOC::
@[Rexanna] @[Deimos]
Identity Inventory:: Cashmere, Destry
Wardrobe:: Golden cloak, Circlet, Armband, Satchel-hidden (knife, polearm)
Thranduil
His words are clever and bright

Credits: Image by Schwartze @ DA

[Image: 5381546acbe33]
Feel free to use any force/magic on Thranduil, short of killing him.
Please tag in every post.
Ask Thranduil any question in the world, he'll be forced to answer on his profile. PM with your question.

Rexanna Posts: 499
World's Edge Mare atk: 4.5 | def: 8.0 | dam: 5.5
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15hh :: 7 years HP: 61.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Marembo :: Marbled Polecat :: None Skylark
#5
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CYNICS ALL AROUND, THEY WEAR MASKS I WANNA SEE.
THEY MAKE AUDIBLE SOUNDS BUT NEVER SAY ANYTHING.


The sights to see in this area were truly astonishing. Rexanna found herself staring off into many of the distances and corners of the land and gazing up at the gigantic statues over and over again. How a place this stunning existed, she wasn't sure. She was glad to have been introduced to it, however. Oceanic blues travelling around the area until she noticed Thranduil's attention had been grasped by something. Her eyes travelling ever so slightly more until they came across a shadowed figure approaching them. Curiosity grew like fire within her and she kept her eyes glued to black figure as he approached even closer. The wind picking up more in this area, bringing an ever so slight chill to her body that almost mimicked the feeling that came from this ebony cloaked male.

Upon his official arrival, he began to speak. Rex's ears twitching with every word as she watched him, her attention bold and respectable. She had a feeling from the aura of this male that she really shouldn't get on the wrong side. He looked as if he was death himself, his eyes watching her with an intent stare to find out who she was and at this point, the mare felt as though she truly needed to put on her best to make the best of intentions. Inhaling slightly, her cream toned ears forward, ready to capture anything that the two may say. However, nothing was said. Just an ever so slight nod from the golden male to the endless depth of darkness in front of her. She figured she at least had to show a bit more respect being welcomed here in these lands by a creature that seemed as though nothing could stand in his way.

The golden mare offered a gentle and quick bow of thanks and hello to the male. Returning her posture, her head lifted in a strong bold stance. Even if she had this thought in the back of her mind that Deimos was a creature of darkness and was seemingly just as ruthless; she felt as though she shouldn't hesitate to show that she could belong there with them and cohesively exist beside them, even if Thranduil was a thief and Deimos appeared to be Death in a wave of darkness as she watched him. She needed a place to be, and what better place than to be in an area surrounded by those who had a similar way of going about things as she had.

A gentle inhale from the mare before keeping her head in a respectful manner, her eyes met with the chilling gaze of Deimos once again. "I am Rexanna." Her voice ever so calm but held an underlying strength within it. "I just came across what Thranduil says to be the Threshold. I do hope that I can provide some sort of worth to you all." Her voice was gentle but held a calm composure. She offered Deimos a small smile of thanks for the welcome he had said earlier; however it also gathered easily with the words that had just emitted from her lips. She truly did hope she could provide something useful for them. It was just a matter of what it was that she could do. The feeling of Deimos' chilling gaze struck her near the core, but the mare didn't let it show. She held her own very well often times and would show to these two that even sticking death in the front of her, she would be strong and unphased.

"SPEAK!"


Tagged; @[Thranduil] @[Deimos]
Notes; --
[Image: lovelyskylark.gif?8]
Permission given for moderate power play.
Feel free to use magic/force on Rexanna, without killing her.
Please tag in every post!

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
#6
The tainted, malicious cretin watched with the callous brushstroke of menace, rampant decadence, scintillating annihilation, a quiet, daring brooding as the newcomer hastened introductions, lavished respect, gathered her cloaks and daggers. She, Rexanna, didn’t quake in the brutal, ethereal presence of his consuming rampancy, didn’t shudder in the deplorable arts of his essence, didn’t shake at the cold-blooded cadence of his rapier toxins, didn’t flee at his arcane vehemence, the allure of death and demise. The notion was not disappointing (though, in some aspects of truth, he was contented when the world quivered a bit as he maneuvered, as he scorched, as he pierced). He glanced at her, a sweeping, scrutinizing form of fallen paragons and rancorous edges, pondering over her worth, her value, her strength and fortitude for the icy denizens and the chilling halls. They were all masters at something within the treacherous valleys, contained, controlled, taut and rigid, talented and defiant, molding together for ruin, for desecration, for upheaval. Was she a soldier, eager to train and dance for the battlefield, to slay and unwind, to cripple and destroy? Was she a thief in the night, fervent for the opportunity to steal secrets and hoard plans? Was she a healer, persistent on assuaging, soothing, or dosing her victims with a venomous rapture? Was she a scholar, bending her knee and will to the Gods? There were many avenues to traverse upon, scramble across the sector, beguiled and enticed into the acrimonious vestiges of the Aurora Basin, where pride never faltered, where characters endured, persevered, and sought to conquer, where the past collided with the present over and over again in searing, wanton displays. The Reaper took all her idle calm, all her tranquil force, and delved closer, narrowing his gaze, counting the ways in which she could be molded, corrupted, or devoured by the molten mountains and the ravenous pews. Perhaps Rexanna was already a behemoth, waiting in the wings, a sinuous, unwinding serpent, nestled and resting beneath a curtain, a veil, of gold and flowers, grasping and clenching for her opportunity to strike. The beast nearly smirked; he liked silent, slinking vipers. He enjoyed violent comrades. He employed masters of craft, of delusion, of Machiavellian properties, of vicious, barbaric interludes. How far could she be pushed? What realm of prestige did she seek? His calculations and machinations fanned in unrelenting waves, a fueled, kindled, brimming curiosity flickering amidst his rebellious skull, glad for the chance Thranduil had provided at gathering more and more wolves into their home. Words followed suit, brandished in their formal, blunt croon, a keen fringe of his unattainable brimstone. “What talents or skills do you possess?” He paused, eternally brief, reeling in the raptorial predilections, the writhing, coiling sentiments of iniquity and annihilation. “We may have ranks to fulfill your pursuits.”


@[Thranduil] @[Rexanna]
DEIMOS
delivered from the blast
last from a line of lasts
and now the kingdom comes crashing down undone
background pattern by webtreatsetc.deviantart.com
image credits

Thranduil the Laurelin Posts: 598
Outcast atk: 5.5 | def: 11 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.2 hh :: Eight HP: 77 | Buff: ENDURE
Haldir :: Common Cerndyr :: Dark Mist Hawk
#7



In the end, the girl turned out to be quite a bore. She bows quickly, and shallow to the Reaper, and keeps her cool. Boring. Snorting the gold turns away from the conversation, not trying to hide the fact that he had little interest in this at the moment. His eyes roll over to where Haldir grazes, just beyond the slope. The deer was always excited to Deimos, but the last of the summer grass, and their long journey put other priorities first. Beyond him stretched the valley, and on the left, tucked away was the golden’s cave. Shaking his horns he could almost hear it call to him. But Deimos’s voice interrupts it. With a sigh he turns back to the two, checking back into their conversation. The dark demon does accept her, it appears. Though of course, a ‘I welcome you’, was out of the question, this was as close as she was going to get. Letting his tasseled tail twitch and curl at his hocks he wait to see how she answers. It was a test of sorts, as he watched her with as little interest leaking forth as possible. What would little goldie say? Would she admit to the hints of what the gold witnessed before? Or would she cower behind some false skills? Perhaps she would try to skirt by and leave this place undecided of her fate. Hmm, the golden mused. That last one most certainly would not do. If she would not speak up for herself, then the gold would be happy to help her out. But of course, first we must wait and see, watching, ever watching.

OOC::
@[Rexanna] @[Deimos]
Identity Inventory:: Cashmere, Destry
Wardrobe:: Golden cloak, Circlet, Armband, Satchel-hidden (knife, polearm)
Thranduil
His words are clever and bright

Credits: Image by Schwartze @ DA

[Image: 5381546acbe33]
Feel free to use any force/magic on Thranduil, short of killing him.
Please tag in every post.
Ask Thranduil any question in the world, he'll be forced to answer on his profile. PM with your question.

Rexanna Posts: 499
World's Edge Mare atk: 4.5 | def: 8.0 | dam: 5.5
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15hh :: 7 years HP: 61.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Marembo :: Marbled Polecat :: None Skylark
#8
<style="padding:5px;">

CYNICS ALL AROUND, THEY WEAR MASKS I WANNA SEE.
THEY MAKE AUDIBLE SOUNDS BUT NEVER SAY ANYTHING.


The mare watched carefully as the grim creature moved ever so closer to her; his icy blues made Rexanna feel almost as though he could see into her entire past. The thought of him possibly knowing of her history caused a slight uncomfort in her being. Her weight shifted, shaking her mane out and returning her gaze to the darkness as he spoke to her. She began to think over the questions; what honestly were her skills and how could they help her learn how to conquer them and utilize them to her best ability. Her mind danced across this idea before hearing a gentle sigh from the golden one beside her. Her head turning ever so slightly to shine an eye on him curiously.

Was he bored? A slight twitch of her tail signaled a slight annoyance at his reaction to everything. What did he want her to do? Cower before the darkness that's presence was close to her? She just lightly shook her head and returned her teal gaze back to Deimos. "Alas, I am not entirely sure what kind of skills I possess, however I do know that I can put on quite the charming face; earn your trust, but when you do me wrong I will destroy you." Rexanna's voice had changed now. Instead of being that charming mare, it had turned into more of a harsh hiss of words; her eyes instead of bright and joyous had dulled in color with quite a piercing gaze.

"So, if you have anything within your ranks that I may be able to continue my pursuit, I would be more than happy to help." She spoke strongly now, shifting weight once more and shooting a curious yet darkened glance over to the golden stag beside her; curious to his reaction to her change.

"SPEAK!"


Tagged; @[Thranduil] @[Deimos]
Notes; --
[Image: lovelyskylark.gif?8]
Permission given for moderate power play.
Feel free to use magic/force on Rexanna, without killing her.
Please tag in every post!

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
#9
He watched the shifting, changing tides of her motions, studied the sway of her movements, the strange balm of apprehension winding its way through her columns; secrets spilling out of her consternation, but with no names, no faces, he couldn’t put the pieces together. They were unknown, strangled bits, little pieces of destruction and devastation, fluttering from her mouth like worn sonnets, and he wanted to laugh at her talk of ruin and wreckage (what did she know of upheaval, of insurrection, of sedition when it was spread throughout empires, sown between seeds and swords? Had she tasted the sentiments of revolution, of havoc, or merely yearn for them?). Was she experienced in the taste, in the indulgence, of power stripped from another, of life carved away from a living, breathing entity, when immortality became obsolete, or was she merely playing a part, a ruse, working her way through lines and blocking out her stage? How many masks did she wear? How many masquerades did she waltz within? How many hours did she practice and perform her role, hoping they wouldn’t see her cracks, the slips of her veneer? The Reaper’s brow arched the slightest of fractions, his gaze seeking out Thranduil’s in an amusing machination, then lancing towards the gilded femme all over again, waiting for her pretenses to fade or her damnation to tip. Perhaps in time they’d see the prowess she so proudly boasted, the promises and oaths she so readily claimed, all the heads she sought and all the charms she contained, the essence of her hisses, the regard of her sibilations. Many came in with rhymes, with declarations, with pledges, and faltered, stumbled, or disappeared entirely when their whims cracked, when their thin, slender wiles twisted, snared, and maligned; if she was made of stern, resolute, determined factors and factions, maybe she could rise to her statements and bestowals. The deep tenors of his voice crackled again, ignited and stoked by wicked entertainment, by chilling disregard, giving away naught in the nonchalant shade of his features, in the stoic regard of his parting lips. “Then you may be suited for our spies.” Here, his glance sharpened into harpoons and rapiers of the relentless, a brief, curt nod of his demonic skull proffered towards the other gilded cretin in their midst. “You can consult our Thief on the matter.”

@[Thranduil] @[Rexanna]
DEIMOS
delivered from the blast
last from a line of lasts
and now the kingdom comes crashing down undone
background pattern by webtreatsetc.deviantart.com
image credits

Thranduil the Laurelin Posts: 598
Outcast atk: 5.5 | def: 11 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.2 hh :: Eight HP: 77 | Buff: ENDURE
Haldir :: Common Cerndyr :: Dark Mist Hawk
#10


It turned out she was quite entertaining. Such a strange mare to be so boring one moment and such a show another. Yes, he was certainly glad he found this one. A smile grows back on his face, as he lets his unhidden emotions play out. Her sweet tone and rich words were ever charming, and at the twist of her voice, when it cracked into thorns and ice, he laughed. Despite the company the golden laughed short and low. Not for the reason you might thing. Of course the little spit fire could throw you about if she wanted, present company excluded. But that she had swirled about so before them, throwing her about like a flying dagger hoping to land a target. She didn’t have a clue what game she was playing, and most certainly not the stakes. That was more than alright though. She knew something better. She knew the rules.

So you see, the gold was quite pleased with the little piece of treasure he had brought in. The dark Reaper seemed quite amused and satisfied as well. The gold did wonder how it must feel. How it must be to be such a girl, trying to stand before the giants of the world she didn’t know yet. Of course some of that story may be his ego talking, but he and his ego were the same right? When she turns though, to look upon his face after her roller-coaster tones she finds a very pleased stallion indeed.

Of course, he didn’t exactly run the show publicly (behind the scenes was another matter). So the dark demon speaks first, and the gold turns slightly to look, nodding back in the same style. One dark, egotistical cretin to another. He was their Theif. Their keeper. And luckily for this little girl too. The gold did not let just anyone in, and didn’t dare let anyone else touch them. “Could have told you that from the start.” Shifting he seems to take on a business look, ready to be done with this mess. “See where you find yourself useful, but always unseen.” With that he turns. He had little need to tell her specifics. He’d see where her imagination drew her, and slam the book down on her later. Turning he looks back with a wide grin. “And we do so love trinkets and visitors, but best make sure they’re of the right sort.” A quick glance is given to the dark lord, and for the first time, there might just be a hard edge towards him hidden in those eyes. Perhaps the gold in them sharpening. “All herds are closed to pickings.” Then he seems to remember himself, and looks back to her with a most amused grin. “Have fun.” He’ll be watching.



OOC:: Yeah so just a quick note, all herds are currently closed to stealths, so only go for outcasts. BUT we could always use a pair of eyes....around. Oh and please let one of the leads, or myself know who you're stealthing. If you need more IC with this, just tag me in a post. =D Wanted to get you out of her and running about as soon as I could!
@[Rexanna] @[Deimos]
Identity Inventory:: Cashmere, Destry
Wardrobe:: Golden cloak, Circlet, Armband, Satchel-hidden (knife, polearm)
Thranduil
His words are clever and bright

Credits: Image by Schwartze @ DA

[Image: 5381546acbe33]
Feel free to use any force/magic on Thranduil, short of killing him.
Please tag in every post.
Ask Thranduil any question in the world, he'll be forced to answer on his profile. PM with your question.


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