the Rift


[PRIVATE] White Flag [Tiamat]

Ashamin the Clovenheart Posts: 426
Outcast atk: 8 | def: 11.5 | dam: 5.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 15.2 HH :: 5 [Frostfall] HP: 79 | Buff: NUMB
Lochan :: Plain Cerndyr :: Dark Mist & Rakt :: Common Cerndyr :: Starpast Jen
#1
White flag,
my confession of guilt on the wall
Universal symbol for my failures
And the end

"Come on, Lochan," The haruspex said tiredly to his companion.

His heart ached. The last days had been long and uncertain. He didn't know where he was as Haruspex or member of this herd, and it seemed as if every time he tried to locate himself, to figure out where to go next, something disastrous happened. Simple conversations turned into confessions and sordid histories. Practice spars turned into broken bones and blood scattered with every blow.

How had everything come to this?

Slowly, he kicked the remains of his fire. Lochan watched, wide eyed and still, sensing his bonded's tense emotionas. The last embers had died out after Ashamin's failure to tend them any further; in the back of his cave, the ceiling dripped as ice melted, and dampened the pile of stowed away logs that could have once been used to prolong the life of the flames.

It wasn't worth it, anymore.

"Come on, I said, help," he snapped, his long tail whipping against the wall and sending sparks flying, his companion flinching at the sound. He knew better than this, but the frustration was building up. Lochan jumped back, his ears pinned and his heart racing so fast that even Ashamin could feel it through their young bond. The paint sighed, stepped closer to the cerndyr, and nuzzled the fur between his horns gently. "I'm sorry," he said softly, his eyes shut as he murmured the apology.

The pair of them had just woken up. Now, Ashamin carried the ashes from his cave to the outside. At night the faint chill of Frostfall seemed to return, but the smell of Birdsong was undeniable. The faint call of the birds rising as the haruspex and his companion went to sleep was the telltale sign. The seasons were changing, everything was changing.

And still, when he looked to the East, he found nothing.

As he passed from the center of the cave to the outdoors, where he carried the last craps of charcoal, he saw his sarong hanging from a crag on the wall of his cave. There it hung, flowing faintly in the breeze, stained with blood. Lochan had avoided the sight of it, as if reminded of the spar's horror, as if reminded of something else.

Ashamin kept telling himself he'd scrub that red away--kept saying some other day. But still it hung, draped, neglected, a flag permitting him to fail and give in.

It was going to be a long night.

""

[[Ashamin is doing some spring cleaning and being depressed about it. I started this as private but I can open it if you want to.]]
ashamin & lochan
image credits



@Tiamat


See Ashamin's profile for more information about Lochan, Rakt, and his various items.
All magic and force allowed, barring death and permanent injury.
Do not tag me, please message on skype instead


Tiamat the Ocean's Light Posts: 360
Aurora Basin Lady atk: 8 | def: 10 | dam: 3
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15.2 :: 6 years HP: 60 | Buff: NOVICE
Nimue :: Common Orca Leviathan :: Boil Reli
#2
No dreams within her heart,
but dreams of love.
Once returning again to the Basin, the blue mare had departed for the Haruspex’s cave as soon as she had been able. Cloven hooves and slender legs carry her swiftly forward, her stride rushing like the waves of her father as she gallops across the mountainous valley, still frosted in places with the white of winter. The thickness of her mane and tail dance behind her, the rustling and chiming of the adornments in her hair the only sounds to accompany the panting of her breaths, silent as the night has become. Dusk is quickly bleeding into night, the final rays of the sun falling behind the precipices of the mountains, leaving the twinkling lights of her sister stars freedom to come out and play.
 
But she focuses on her task, casting them only a glance as she pushes forward. When she circles around the moist banks of her brother lake, her footsteps thudding softly against the thawing earth and echoing across its glassy surface, Tiamat finally comes within sight of the Haruspex’s cave. At first glance, the cave appears to be empty—no figure stands in its entrance, no fire glowing to light the darkness that gapes within, only the seemingly lone shadow of solitude rests within the mountain den. Her heart sinks into the tight pits of her stomach, fearing the worst, and her uncertainties rise unbidden to plague the buoyancy of her soul.
 
What—what if it hadn’t been a dream?
 
What if it had all been real? What if it actually happened?
 
Her gait stumbles, physically staggering with the possibility as the weight of the pain, guilt, and shame reach with dagger-like claws to rest their heavy burdens across her shoulders. “No,” the young mare chokes out, her breath gasping and suddenly labored as her lungs constrict and her heart cries out for it not to be so. It just couldn’t have happened—it just couldn’t have.
 
It is with weighted steps that she climbs over the stone and closer to the cave’s entrance, her labored breaths pooling in white wisps around her nostrils, and she doesn’t feel the bite of winter’s lingering breath as it nips at her satin skin. The black mouth of the cave grows wider, ominous—her heartbeat thrums in her ears, echoing and throbbing like a drum beating its march. What waits for her there? Will it be nothing? She feels cold inside, cold not from the night, but from the dread that builds with each step and the horror that lies in wait to assault her with its devastating woes (not unlike a predator waiting to spring upon its prey).
 
Tiamat hesitates before stepping inside, her slender sides heaving with a final, trembling breath before she allows the gaping darkness to swallow her.
 
It takes a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dimness without the aid of dusk’s waning light, but before she truly comprehends what she sees, she sees him. A painted figure in the shadows. “Ashamin,” the blue mare breaths his name somewhere between a sigh of relief and the choking gasp of her emotions, a shuddering breath across her tongue. Her eyes tell her that he is here, that he is all right, that he is unharmed—as far as the night will allow her to see—but that is not enough. It couldn’t possibly be enough.
 
Her muscles don’t move at first, and they are weak when they do, but still she staggers closer to him. Before long she is reaching, pressing her lips to his cheek and breathing in his scent, the musky familiarity and heat that confirms that he is real. Suddenly the tightness of her chest and weight on her back are gone, chased away by his presence, his life, and in their wake she feels tears spring to her eyes. “Ashamin! You’re alive! Oh—it wasn’t real,” her breaths grow ragged with sobs of release, her body falling to his chest and she wraps her neck against his, her muzzle hanging across his withers, wanting to feel the truth and joy that each touch brings. “It wasn’t real,” she cries to herself, trembling with the overwhelming relief of the words.


notes; -cuddles Ashamin- I think they should work out the things between them first, but then open it up if you'd like or if anyone's interested!
“Speech.”
image credits
@Ashamin
please tag Tia in all replies!
magic & force are permitted.

Ashamin the Clovenheart Posts: 426
Outcast atk: 8 | def: 11.5 | dam: 5.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 15.2 HH :: 5 [Frostfall] HP: 79 | Buff: NUMB
Lochan :: Plain Cerndyr :: Dark Mist & Rakt :: Common Cerndyr :: Starpast Jen
#3

Dreamed in black and
blue for you,
oh once I dreamed
for you


Ashamin had turned back to enter his cave and grab a mouthful of his fire's remains by the time Tiamat arrived. As a result, he heard her before he saw her--as a result, he didn't see her until she was already touching him.

And when she spoke he thought, at first, how nonsensical it was. He was alive? Of course he was alive. How could he be anything else and yet standing here? It was true his spar with Zandora had made him feel close to death, but Tiamat knew nothing of those events and he had been closer to dying before. Though Ashamin had not seen his friend for some time, it had not been that long.

So why was she so relieved sounding? Why did she seem as if fear had just left her?

He still hadn't looked--he had his eyes trained on the ashen pile and his companion's white marking, as if Lochan would know the answer. And Lochan did know the answer, but no drawings could convey the horror of that dream which the Haruspex had forgotten.

Tiamat's nose moved across his body, filling him with warmth. She was so affectionate, almost overly affectionate, and the shy bones in his body froze at her touch. But Lochan was urging him wordlessly to look, to see that blue body that he knew so well in full real life before him.

So eventually, he obeyed. He turned slowly, his body gliding underneath hers, allowing her neck to wrap perfectly about his withers. The haruspex lowered his head, let it turn to the side, and he saw her perfectly sculpted features as if for the first time.

"Tiamat."

Everything came rushing back like the sea. He felt clouded and covered in water, and still he felt unable to move.

He had died.

A dream, maybe, but he had died. And now he was alive, blessed to be, and breathing beside the one who had tried so hard to save him in a dream. He could do nothing, he could say nothing, he could only repeat her name:

"Tiamat."

ashamin & lochan
image credits


@Tiamat


See Ashamin's profile for more information about Lochan, Rakt, and his various items.
All magic and force allowed, barring death and permanent injury.
Do not tag me, please message on skype instead


Tiamat the Ocean's Light Posts: 360
Aurora Basin Lady atk: 8 | def: 10 | dam: 3
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15.2 :: 6 years HP: 60 | Buff: NOVICE
Nimue :: Common Orca Leviathan :: Boil Reli
#4
No dreams within her heart,
but dreams of love.
She hears her name and the ocean mare turns her head, pulling back just enough to see the understanding come alight in the stallion’s dark eyes. As recollections seem to trickle into his memory, chasing away the confusion, her smile grows wider and wider, until the white of her teeth glow softly against the blue of her lips. “Yes,” she breathes, airy and light, the single word rolling across her tongue like a long-awaited, desperate sigh of relief. He repeats her name and she clutches him tighter, unable to describe the feeling of relief that has released her from her haunting sorrow. She is overjoyed—euphoric—and clings to her friend as though he is the source of all this joy.
 
He very well might be.
 
Yes, Ashamin—I’m here! And here you are,” Tiamat moves her muzzle eagerly across his neck, feeling the beating of his heart, the musky smell that could only ever be his, the warmth that is released from his skin and gathers between them—all things that could only ever be Ashamin, and she continues with a breathless, joyous smile, “alive.” Her skin tingles with the containment of her happiness and her heart sings in her ecstasy. It is only in her nature to be so affectionate, especially at a time like this, when she can think of nothing else but to feel him and know, without a doubt, that he is here.
 
That he is alive.
 
The ocean mare embraces the stallion eagerly, almost desperate for his touch—for confirmation that her fears have been for naught, that her friend lives, that this beacon of light still thrives and glows in her life, that it wasn’t real. She has prayed for nothing else. “Don’t ever let that change, okay?” Tiamat whispers earnestly to him, pleads, forgetting for a moment how selfish this request might be. She doesn’t want to lose him—that she knows, and it is that which she implores of him now.
 
Settling into silence for a short moment, Tiamat focuses on controlling her breaths, their movement heavy and deep with the promise of tears underneath. She doesn’t want to break down now, not when she feels so happy and so complete, but her resolve cracks and leaks when her lips part again. “Do you remember any of it?” She whispers almost fearfully, her voice trembling, unsure whether she wants to hear his answer—whether she wants to allow the images to come back. She swallows against the tightness in her throat. “The…pain…” Another pause, her voice more strained as tears swell to gather along her eyelids, and she has to take a measured, shuddering breath before forcing herself to continue.
 
“Your…”
 
No. She can’t say it.

She can’t.


“Speech.”
image credits | @Ashamin
please tag Tia in all replies!
magic & force are permitted.

Time the Dice Queen Posts: 144
OOC Account atk: 50 | def: 50 | dam: 50
Mare :: Other :: 5'7 :: 22 HP: 5050 | Buff: DROPKICK
Time
#5
unarchived per request

Ashamin the Clovenheart Posts: 426
Outcast atk: 8 | def: 11.5 | dam: 5.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 15.2 HH :: 5 [Frostfall] HP: 79 | Buff: NUMB
Lochan :: Plain Cerndyr :: Dark Mist & Rakt :: Common Cerndyr :: Starpast Jen
#6

Lie to me
please, so
I can live
my own,
for you


Do you remember any of it?

How could he not?

The pain?

Of course. Of course, it was everything. It had been and maybe it always would be.

Your...

Death?

Yes. It had been everything he'd ever wanted and more. And now he was awake and alive and he knew only because Tiamat was telling him so, pleading that he stay that way. Becoming a silken figure, joining himself with death's great white cloak, had been heaven. This life had to be hell by comparison. And yet...

Don't ever let that change, ok?

He smiled softly, pressing his body against hers with tender warmth. "Of course I won't, Tiamat. "

A gentle sigh, the softest resignation. "I'm not going anywhere."
Not because I don't want to, Tiamat. But because of you, of this herd and the creatures in it that somehow care for me. Because I could not go without causing pain--and  because I would live an immortal life of suffering before I made another soul here cry.

He was blessed. He was blessed to walk this earth still when he had thought so many times of leaving it, when perhaps he did not deserve to still stand for those thoughts and that ungratefulness.

He remembered but he would not speak of it. If he did, would she catch the wistfulness in Ashamin's tone? The longing? Blessed but cursed, wishing for any chance to knit himself back into an eternal expanse of cloth, of souls, of heaven, he feared that he would betray himself. No, he could not speak of it.

Lochan knew. That was enough, that was already one more soul than he wished to hurt that was in pain. Lochan knew and Lochan could not forget, not something like that.

"And you?" he asked, striving to press his nose to hers, wishing the rough pitted horn he bore could be gone, wishing nothing would separate them. "Can you promise me the same?"

His heart was a tentative drum, his white-rimmed eyes were betraying his pain despite his best attempts to hide it. He was earnest, when he asked her. Ashamin the Haruspex neded to know:

Can you promise me this lie that we all tell each other in life, this lie of eternal standing beside each other so no one has to admit that someday, somehow, they will succumb to an end?
ashamin & lochan
image credits


@Tiamat (I suck)


See Ashamin's profile for more information about Lochan, Rakt, and his various items.
All magic and force allowed, barring death and permanent injury.
Do not tag me, please message on skype instead


Tiamat the Ocean's Light Posts: 360
Aurora Basin Lady atk: 8 | def: 10 | dam: 3
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15.2 :: 6 years HP: 60 | Buff: NOVICE
Nimue :: Common Orca Leviathan :: Boil Reli
#7
No dreams within her heart,
but dreams of love.
Tiamat cannot know the shadows that linger to haunt the stallion’s mind; she wouldn’t understand his black desire to be wrapped up in that darkness once more, cradled and sheltered and comforted in its sweet, sweet embrace. She wouldn’t know how to distinguish the beauty in his longing, seized only by the coldness. After all, it had not been so soothing for her. All the ocean mare can remember is the pain, the agony that had swirled and thrashed until she feared she would drown beneath it, only to be pushed further down by the guilt that had clawed and laughed with a toothy, cruel grin.

It…it had been—torture. Harrowing.

She can still see him when she closes her eyes, his body—torn, mangled, and bleeding—falling still, falling like a cold stone against her knees because she couldn’t save him. Because of her. The mare shudders violently, still consumed by the nightmare and pressing herself closer to her painted friend, oblivious to his resignation, his submission. Drinking in his presence, his warmth, she only sees him—alive and well—with his assurance breathing like a warm balm over her quivering muscles. “Good,” her voice is a trembling sigh similar to his own, but succumbing to brighter, more encouraging things.

“I need you,” the ocean mare can barely force the heady words from her tongue, so thick is her throat with emotion, her eyes blinking furiously as she fights the urge to cry again, “I need you alive.” Tiamat does not quite comprehend what it is that grips her so fiercely. She doesn’t know what compels her to say such things, knowing only that they are true, that she cannot imagine a world without the Haruspex and his friendship.

She does not know what she asks of him—what a burden it might be, to plead of him to stay, to live. Who would ever wish for death? She is innocent, naïve, and inexperienced in the mercies that such a release could bring. She only knows its brutality.

Pressing her nose to his, Tiamat’s nostrils tremble with each breath, exhaling into the darkness of the cave with slow, long heaves of slender shoulders. Her eyes close at his voice, a single tear managing to escape from her beneath her lashes. “Yes,” she swallows heavily, her eyes slowly opening as she trails her touch to his cheek, savoring every inch of his skin, warm with life. “I will be here,” her gaze searches for his, the night’s glowing light framing them together. Unlike the stallion, she fears death—she cannot imagine yielding to its cold grip, clinging too fondly, too desperately to the life and friends that anchor her here.

Perhaps, one day, when her innocence no longer shelters her, she can find a similar peace with their old friend.

Hugging against him then, a foreign scent manages to leak into the ocean mare’s awareness. Tangy and rancid, it prickles the skin along the back of her neck. Pulling away a little, she notices the blood—his blood?—and suddenly, the nightmare returns to leap at the forefront of her mind, chilling her skin. “What happened to you?” It is a gasp of concern, reprimanding herself for not noticing it sooner. “Ashamin—are you alright? Here, I have something that will help—” Tiamat shifts back just enough to sift through the herbs braided into her hair, intent on helping him. She will not lose him a second time.

She couldn’t survive it again.


notes; I'm sorry it only took forever!
“Speech.”
image credits | @Ashamin
please tag Tia in all replies!
magic & force are permitted.

Ashamin the Clovenheart Posts: 426
Outcast atk: 8 | def: 11.5 | dam: 5.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 15.2 HH :: 5 [Frostfall] HP: 79 | Buff: NUMB
Lochan :: Plain Cerndyr :: Dark Mist & Rakt :: Common Cerndyr :: Starpast Jen
#8


When she pulled away, Ashamin wasn't sure how to feel. Was it sorrow at the loss of her warmth or relief at the absence of responsibility to hold her up? Maybe it wasn't his job. Maybe he misunderstood. But he had taken on a herd's burden and left his needs to rot and be forgotten. Someday, such neglect would take its toll.

When Tiamat fussed and reached for the herbs, he let out a slow exhale and reached out to nudge her nose away. It was too late to heal the Bear God's bloody marks, there was nothing she could do to take away the memory of that or any other pain. So "It's nothing," he lied as he rejected the herbs. "Just a bloody scar, now. I just need to sleep." He spoke just to fill the air with something, but as soon as he did he realized how pressing the need was. His eyelids fell as if it were suddenly impossible to hold them up--the world around him felt like a weight.

Lochan circled around him, white eyes sharp and watching, little figure wide awake and radiating with the energy of being alive. This was an innocence Ashamin had lost. Someday, the cerndyr would lost it, too. But for now Lochan was bright and affectionate, willing to interrupt the moment if only to bump his ever-watching brow against Tiamat's knee and let out a soft bray, open his mouth to accept the herbs Ashamin would not. Knowing the trouble the Haruspex got into, they would be a useful thing to keep in his sarong for the future, if not for now.

"I just need to sleep..." Ashamin murmured, his tail going slack, his cannons shuddering with the weight of staying upright and alert. Maybe, she would join him. Maybe, she would wake him. But the need was there, a pain dragging him down into something dark once again. Something, of course, that felt like the quiet emptiness of death.



ashamin & lochan
image credits


@Tiamat


See Ashamin's profile for more information about Lochan, Rakt, and his various items.
All magic and force allowed, barring death and permanent injury.
Do not tag me, please message on skype instead


Tiamat the Ocean's Light Posts: 360
Aurora Basin Lady atk: 8 | def: 10 | dam: 3
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15.2 :: 6 years HP: 60 | Buff: NOVICE
Nimue :: Common Orca Leviathan :: Boil Reli
#9
No dreams within her heart,
but dreams of love.
The ocean mare is taken by surprise when she feels the stallion’s gentle but firm prodding, encouraging her from her string of herbs. She almost resists his urging, too consumed with the drive and need to see him healed—to see him whole and unbroken, the haunting image of their nightmare lingering in her mind’s eye—but ultimately she resigns, knowing that she cannot fight him. Slowly her muscles relax, allowing him to push her away from his aid, the herbs still grasped desperately between her cobalt lips.

He insists that it is nothing—that the wounds and the blood and the pain are nothing—and her lips purse tighter around the dried sprigs, a righteous indignation flaring within her heart. It isn’t nothing—it can’t be nothing! She wants to insist, to plead with him, but noticing the sudden weariness that seems to weigh across the stallion’s shoulders, she holds her tongue in favor of his fatigue. It wouldn’t do to argue, after all. And so with a forcefulness that the healer is unaccustomed to, she swallows her protests.

Still, her long leonine tail flicks restlessly, thick hairs brushing across the cold, stone ground. It is only when she feels a nudging against her knee that the ocean mare looks away from the Haruspex, finding that Lochan is staring up at her with his wide, luminous eyes. Immediately she smiles, arching her neck to give the young cerndyr the herbs. Her heart blossoms with both warmth and gratitude. She appreciates Lochan’s care far more than the little one can understand at this point, and she nuzzles him affectionately, pressing her muzzle against his dark fur and breathing a sigh of thankfulness.

Ashamin will never be alone, she realizes, finally recognizing the full and tender relationship between a bonded pair.

It is a heart-warming realization.

With her mind at last at ease, the blue mare shifts closer to the painted stallion, bright eyes seeming to catch all the night light in their radiance. “Very well,” she murmurs, reaching to press her lips against his neck, angling her body so they are side-by-side. The Haruspex will not be alone this night—she will be here, as long as he might need her. She will be at his side. “Come, Ashamin—let’s rest. You need to rest,” gently, she coaxes him to the ground, the cold bite of distance unable to separate the warmth between them.


notes; <333 I believe we decided to end this here?
“Speech.”
image credits
please tag Tia in all replies!
magic & force are permitted.


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