the Rift


[OPEN] lordly laurelin and the pauper prince.

Rikyn the Puppeteer Posts: 549
Aurora Basin Lord atk: 7.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 4.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.3 :: 4 HP: 70 | Buff: SWIFT
Duir :: Royal Cerndyr :: Earth Spirit Bunnie
#1
Aching and sore from my battle with Ashamin, I make my way across the vale and hope to find a balm for my pains in the waters of the springs. The heavy mists rising into the cold spring air hide my almost completely as I settle into their depths with comfort and ease, letting my breath play along the surface of the water.

Working to cleanse myself of the filth that has accumulated on my body while the Haruspex and I fought in the mud, making a fair bit of noise while I do so, mostly because I am still feeling riled up from the spar and wouldn’t mind getting to hang out with someone for a while.




[ AMAZING TITLE CHANGE DELETES YOUR POST OHNOOHNOOHNO
aka this was a really nice post worth reading but now it is this poop because it is dead so dead D: ]

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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
#2

He was tired. Cloven hooves dragged across the permafrost ground. His hips, instead of rolling with style, drop and jolt with an uncaring step. Even his proud head hung lower, and earth eyes struggled with the weight of the world to stay awake. It wasn’t how he usually liked to be seen, certainly within these walls. Yet, this was also the only place where he could be seen as such. This place was not home. It could never be. But this season marked two years he had been a wolf in its den. After years of wandering the world, it was the place he had come to enjoy, and know best. Not that the weather always thrilled him. No, this place was not home, but it was as close as he had come in a long time.

Haldir at least was in a much better mood. He was not wrought by the same insomnia as his bonded, and so always woke with a chipper disposition. The stag moved through the earth with all the natural grace he possessed. They had finally emerged from the cave to graze and now were headed to his most favorite place, the hot springs! The dark stag, impatient trots ahead, only looking back for a second, before going on. So it is Haldir who first finds the little prince.

Through the mist and steam the deer steps with certainty. He knew this land and its people well enough by now to know little fear. The deer steps into the hot waters, letting them roll over his tension tied hooves, and his sigh comes out to add to the mists of fog and steam. Through the calm of bubbling rolling waters he almost misses the sounds of another. Antlered head rises back up to peer into the mists. It couldn’t have been his bonded, the golden made no sounds. The mists roll, thinning in his view and he catches sight of a black shape in the water. Snorting the deer backs out.

A tension bubbles in the golden’s chest, and his harks move back, that was strange. Haldir rarely grew tense. Moving with more purpose, but still dragging a bit, the golden slips into the clouds of mists. He finds his bonded staring into the white abyss with a curious tensity. Nonsense, the golden thought, walking straight toward the source of the distraction. He had no patience foolish interruptions and wanted to be left in peace. He wanted to forget the crown on his head held real weight. He wanted to close his eyes and sleep. And none of those things included pesky irritating minions.

So it was rather a good thing that’s not what he found. Wading silently through the water, as was he magic’s blessing, he comes across the shape who after is unfamiliar. Then a curl of gold rolls up in the water and all the frustration and irritation ceases. The little prince. Rikyn. A flurry of memories and questions completely take over the golden’s ill temper and wash it away. A bemused smile rises on his weary lips and body, with the help of the steam, seems to let go. “Glad to see you finally grew into your horn.” And he was sure, the ego his mother gave. Now announced, the golden wades in deeper. Haldir, who had been on the shore too relaxes, and wades into his knees. Questions nagged the golden’s mind. Where was his mother. Where had they been. But he would wait. All in due time. For now, it was satisfying enough to have that mood erased by a familiar face, and let his body sink into the heated waters. A quick wit, a hot bath, and the promise of a curious conversation, not a bad way to spend a worn day.


OOC ::
"speech"

Posting Poetics
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@Rikyn

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

Rikyn the Puppeteer Posts: 549
Aurora Basin Lord atk: 7.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 4.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.3 :: 4 HP: 70 | Buff: SWIFT
Duir :: Royal Cerndyr :: Earth Spirit Bunnie
#3
The water ripples as if someone is coming, though I can’t hear them.

I’m used to it, I guess; mother kept all sorts of quiet consorts, even her companion being so subtle on her paws that she could almost be determined silence incarnate. I turn my eyes in wonder, waiting for whoever it is to appear through the strange blanket of mist that separates them from my view.

The man that arrives is one that I am, honestly, surprised to only now be meeting up with. Golden pelted with a mane of pale, milky white, his dual horns stand above his crown and a companion (another deer creature – I really should ask what they are called) I don’t recall trailing along with him. I remember him from my youth, a common face, one of my mother’s many consorts and conspirators.

Thranduil.

I had always gathered the sense, ironically, that neither he nor my mother had truly liked one another. The game that thusly ensued between them was something I had often watched and listened to with interest, pretending to play my games, but always aware as my dam had tried so very hard to teach.

It didn’t mean I was any good at it, of course – I reason I thank the Gods that I have a good, strong kick.

His comment makes me frown. I don’t like my youth being pointed out to me, having always felt a strange sense of superiority emanating from those who were my elders and, having strived my entire youth to rise above it, am loathe to submit to now that I am reaching an age in which my muscles are no longer soft, the ridges of my features hardened and gaining in breadth with each passing week.

Still, I’m sure he means well, like an annoying uncle (if your uncle wanted you to spill all the family secrets, selling their beloved heirlooms on the black market during thanksgiving dinner). At least he didn’t call me “boy,” or some other bullshit term of male endearment.

"Its good to see you too, Thranduil," I say grumpily, forgetting that he is now technically my Lord in all my distaste for being treated like a child, remembering only after I say his name out loud that I have utterly forgot my manners (deciding to not apologize, instead trying my best at conversation – a talent that I probably need more practice in), "have you been sparring this morning as well?"


@Thranduil


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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


Well, perhaps not as quick a wit as he might have hoped. Instead a sharp comeback, it was a smooth draw. The golden still mused though, he would take it. Now though he could look on the grown child with less judgement. It was strange to find something so familiar as the little prince, and yet have time contort it into something so strange. He looked, through his eyes like his mother, but his face held Ulrik’s straight lines.


Beyond that, what the golden actually knew about the prince was very limited. In fact, given the time which had passed, it had most likely all changed. So he wasn’t actually having a conversation with the prince, but the one he thought was he should be. It was change soon enough and slip into a firmer reality eventually, but for now it was a curious continence. Mostly because while it may seen strange, there was a logic behind it. There was a lure to the time when he knew this colt. A wanted sense he had somehow dropped since then. And this was one moment to pick it up again, if only for a little while.


Perhaps that was why the golden changed his mood so quickly, and his head lowers to the water’s surface with such relaxation rippling across his back. And also why he didn’t even think of the missed title before his name. It wasn’t part of his thoughts now. For not only was he relaxing in the carefree sense of yesterdays, but he was rather filled with all sort of questions and curiosities. It might have been enough to make another pop with anticipation, but for him it was like a blindfold to his other concerns.


The prince speaks up again and the golden lends him a hark, but nothing more. Preferring to dip his cold nose into the hot waters for a moment to warm it. As well? The prince had been sparing? All signs of the fight, the mud and cuts were hidden or washed away. “I haven’t the pleasure, but what unfortunate soul thought to tangle with you?” It was said as a jest, a tease, but then also his tone lingered with some thought of reality. He had even turned to look with a brash grin at the dark horse. The prince looked rather handsome, a gift from his mother and father, but his was just a young one still. The fact he had put someone in their place was, well hard to believe.


Shaking his crowned head the golden let water fly from his mane as the prince had not long before. He doesn’t look at the prince though, and instead wades just a slightly deeper. “So prince, what long twisting tale of being at death’s door do you have to tell?” Again now he looks back after. Though his tone was still light his face was a bit more serious. In the relaxed ease the intense curiosity at what had happened to the boy couldn’t be hidden any longer. Let’s not kid ourselves either though, it wasn’t just the prince he wanted to know about.

Illynx was, well, a special case. She had been both his first target, and his first ally. That was until her disappearance. He had in fact been happy she was gone. Oh of course he looked about for her, but truly some ill fallen misfortune was much better to dream up than know. But now the prince was back, and his protective mother did not seem to be near. Certainly she would have announced herself. He wanted to show her. Wanted to flash it in her face and see the purring feline rattled or to see her smooth lips roll out some sly phrase. Yes that is what he wanted. But first he needed to know. Where was she?



OOC ::
"speech"

Posting Poetics
Image by the AMAZING Vossity

@Rikyn

[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.

Rikyn the Puppeteer Posts: 549
Aurora Basin Lord atk: 7.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 4.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.3 :: 4 HP: 70 | Buff: SWIFT
Duir :: Royal Cerndyr :: Earth Spirit Bunnie
#5
I haven’t the pleasure, he says, hot water dripping from his dark lips from where he’d had the thing submerged beneath the surface; I am not so bold. I find that my heart tremors at the thought of drowning, a thought that rose unbidden as I watched him and which thankfully scatters as he speaks (I don’t like feeling weak). I answer him at first with a grin, perhaps a bit too cheeky – it wasn’t as if I’d initiated the spar, but I was about to tell the guy who was technically in charge of me that I had come home only to stab a hole in their Holy Man.

"Ashamin asked for a spar," I say with a shrug and a soft smile in memory of our recently concluded tussle (one that darkens as I recall the amount of his blood that had fallen, the absence of mine; perhaps I should have told him no?), "he probably won’t again."

Not that I was going to write off the Haruspex’s bravery so swiftly; he had, after all, continued the fight, even after our first moves had gone sour on him. And, with a burning sensation racing across my burned flesh in memory, he had even scored a pretty good hit with his stupid tail thing while lying on the ground in puddles of ice, blood, and murk.

However, if he asks me for another round, I may have to wonder as to what sort of masochistic tendencies drive him.

Deeper into the water comes the golden Lord, and I look at him from where my eyes had again wandered off into the indistinct haze of the shoreline through the rising mist. There’s a gleam in his eye that makes me think of my dam during her less couth moments, when she plotted, when she schemed, but I chase the thought away.

What could he want of me? I was but a child when I left this land, and he knows nothing of my life or skills but that which I have divulged in this conversation. And yet, a small voice whispers, nags… a small voice that is drowned out by the rich, accented vocals of the Lord.

I look at him questioningly – I had not nearly died, at least not as far as I was concerned. Was this an attempt at being dramatic? If so, he will learn now, and swiftly, that it is not my forte.

"Death and I have never formally met," I answer, perhaps a proud statement, a statement which denies my mortality with the brash pride of youth, a smile rising on my lips as the next boastful array of words slips forth, "I have good luck, I guess."

I was no good at these games that he and mother played like instruments, the threads of their conversations weaving intricately together as their minds, swift and plotting, found links that my simpler, more straightforward way of thinking slips over like silk across a smooth surface. After a bit of thought (only a few seconds – I think quick, truly), I come to the conclusion that he mostly wants to know where I had been and what I had done while I was there – but likely not before he feels his agitation rise at what, surely, must be stupidity on my behalf (and not ridiculous web weaving on his own).

"I do have tales, still," I remark with a laugh, "just none so…dastardly."



@Thranduil

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Force/violence is allowed to be used on Rikyn permitted it does not permanently maim or kill him (PM me!).

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
#6


Steam curled up around the two and shifted between them, giving glimpses of the mountains above. It seemed like a hidden recluse. A world away. Which might have also caused his strange sense of familiarity with this son of Illynx. Why he saw him as something so different than what he was. At least though, the golden was a quick to catch on. He might make mistakes, but he was surely not going to keep making it.

At first though he was lulled still by his memories and assumptions. He looks back at the dark prince with a little humor. His mind thinks to the poor Haurspex, with his curled horn and honorable soul. “The faithful Ashamin has a tendency to do that.” He smiles and teases, but in his soul he does actually feel a bit of pity for the poor stallion. He thinks of the day the faithful buffed out his chest and was willing to challenge the black bird, Caleb. With a wondering, lazy string of thought he wonders how that turned out.

Of course that wasn’t the main piece of business at hand. The young prince speaks up again and the golden listens with his grin slightly fading. It wasn’t that he was no longer humored, but the conversation wasn’t going as he thought, and it irked his mind awake. The phrase was taken too literal. The expected trailing into a long and winding tale didn’t come readily. For a moment the gold thinks to Ulrik, and the engineer’s straight forward tongue. But if this son was not like Illynx perhaps he was not like Ulrik? Finally the thick headed golden asks himself, Who was this prince?

Of course little changes on the outside other than a slight calming of his wild grin. Though inside he couldn’t deny he was slightly disappointed. Disappointed he did not find in the prince someone who thought like him, as his mother had. But how could he stay down when he had still so many questions. Now though his patience was thinning a bit. Playing cat and mouse is fun, but he eventually does want to eat the damn mouse.

So the golden remains humored, but his tone does lace with a slight more serious turn. “You’re a tease, Prince. Now where have you been.” Turning the golden rises more out of the water to come on the other side of him. His earth eyes still sparking a bit certainly the conversation on his end was turning more serious. He no longer wanted to know, he needed to know, where was the prince’s mother.



OOC ::
"speech"

Posting Poetics
Image by the AMAZING Vossity

@Rikyn

[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.

Rikyn the Puppeteer Posts: 549
Aurora Basin Lord atk: 7.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 4.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.3 :: 4 HP: 70 | Buff: SWIFT
Duir :: Royal Cerndyr :: Earth Spirit Bunnie
#7
I nod at the mention of the Haruspex, not knowing enough of him to determine if he is faithful, and surely not feeling any true kinship towards him in light of our meeting. That he had continued the fight despite his numerous injuries still earns him some measure of respect from me, but aside from this, I don’t feel much for him other than an irksome twinge which rises at the thought of his damnable coil.

The Lord’s smile falters as I reply to him, an expression that, if I was more careful to take note of these things, I might find on many faces who wanted to compare me to my dam, only to find that I wasn’t quite the duplication they had hoped for. In reality, I barely notice the change in expression, and I take it for absolutely nothing.

He both mocks and complements me in a single sentence, which leaves me in an emotional upheaval upon which I teeter with very little reaction other than a slight widening of my eyes and a bewildered, upwards quirk of my lips for a moment.

If anyone in this gathering is a tease, it’s him – I like to think I’m pretty blunt. But, that he thinks of me as a prince still, a title I don’t even give myself, gives my ego a boost that eases my agitation at being called something I’m not into the smallest of hums in the background.

"A place known as Nightwalk, some many weeks away," I say, not really knowing why he cares so much about where some child he barely knew wandered away to – until the thought hits me like a hot prod right in the chest, and I feel my gaze narrow in dislike of his indirect badgering.

I should tell him the stupid bitch died, though I honestly don’t know anything more of her whereabouts than he does. Instead, I completely skip over what little I do know, continuing with my story.

It is what he asked for, right?

"It is a realm very similar to the Basin, of mostly unicorn population and devoted to that very purpose," I continue, letting the hostility that had briefly crossed my features fade into a more companionable expression, "and while it was not terrible, I missed my kin, and my friends."


[ OOC: Lirl he's such a little shit. ]


@Thranduil

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Force/violence is allowed to be used on Rikyn permitted it does not permanently maim or kill him (PM me!).

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
#8


If he had been let down before, irked and annoyed, he was now put right off. The dark prince had grown up. That was certain, spars, travels, and a sense of boldness that kept him on his ground around the gold. But like a bitter distaste the gold was having to come to it that either the creature did not catch on or did not care to give in. Either possibility was unsatisfactory.

Coming up from the water the golden’s tasseled tail, woken back to life from the cold in the pool, whips about. Water droplets flying about. Haldir rises at the pool’s edge looking on, a little loathe to see the meeting coming to an end, but ever ready to travel on. The gold though, as much annoyed as he is to have his questions lost on the prince, and the time wasted, was more than ready to go. Only he still needed to know what he came for in the first place.

So with his smile finally gone, he turns back to the youth. “Fascinating. What of your mother?” The earth eyes held no spark and the switching of his tail was signaling and end to this little bit of ‘fun’. It was in the end the golden’s fault. He assumed too much, but perhaps that’s why he was annoyed to begin with. Honestly it was rather an extreme kindness that kept the golden from letting his patience shift into anger. Perhaps it was the linger airs of olden days of little care that kept the tensions of these days from taking over.



OOC ::Sorry its so terrible and lately lovely.
"speech"

Posting Poetics
Image by the AMAZING Vossity

@Rikyn

[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.

Rikyn the Puppeteer Posts: 549
Aurora Basin Lord atk: 7.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 4.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.3 :: 4 HP: 70 | Buff: SWIFT
Duir :: Royal Cerndyr :: Earth Spirit Bunnie
#9
The interest in the conversation, which had been almost a barrage, slows to a narrow trickle as we stand in the warmth of the bubbling water, his tail rising above the surface in a sloppy display of agitation – one that even I, dense and brutish in the skills of perception, the motives and moods of others, can read.

It is, after all, an ancient display of aggression among our people.

The sound of water dripping and dropping all about us is taken as my cue to move my way out, the first step revealing that the heat of the pool has done its job, the once tensed muscles loosened and no longer sore. With one ear still trained upon the Lord, I follow the path of his crowned companion, my belly, still thickened by winter’s cloak, drips from the straggly black, coffee, and milk chocolate hairs, tail occasionally swaying with liberal ease from one side to the other, dribbling water in its arcing wake.

I don’t shake the water away; I let it tickle down my skin, warm at first, until the wind finds its downward trail, and the dark dampness of my pelt is submerged in a chill that is lightly combated by the full sunshine above.

At long last, he asks the question that has danced about his mouth, giving up on his elusions and trails of intrigue that I, and surely many others he has met, refuse to oblige, and at last earning a glance from me which does not sparkle with deviousness or a lack of understanding.

A warrior is meant to crush things which resemble spiders, snakes, and wolves, not to whisper their insidious tongues – and while I do not desire to end the predatory presence here on this mountain, one that had seemingly always been, I refuse to dance among the weaving jabs of their silver tongues. That he had conceded to my methods is enough to replace an air of friendliness about me that had nearly been lost only moments before, one ear flipping aside sadly as the golden light in my eyes darkens.

"I don’t know," I admit, not liking the truth as it sounds in the air, but forcing myself to hear and taste it none the less – though I don’t admit I lost her, as I had openly admitted to my sire, "she never told anyone as far as I know - not even father."



@Thranduil

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Force/violence is allowed to be used on Rikyn permitted it does not permanently maim or kill him (PM me!).


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