the Rift


[OPEN] second chances, new beginnings [birth]

Aylin Posts: 89
Hidden Account
Mare :: Unicorn :: 16.0 :: 3
ali
#1
Aylin
moonlight burns out all but the brightest stars

Several weeks had passed after you and Knox made it to the Falls and spoke with Archibald. Over those passing weeks you felt the way your sides expanded, felt the additional weight on your joints, and the hunger pangs that drove you to eat more than usual. Everyday it had become more real that you were pregnant and that you were going to be a mother, that Knox was going to be a father. At times you were excited because you were going to have a family, but more often than not you were scared. You worried over whether or not you would be good enough, if your child would love you, if Knox would stay like he promised, if birth would hurt like you expected it would.

That last thing you wondered about, the pain was what you would remember most from your labor. You lay there in the grass, sweating, panting, groaning, and wishing that it would be over; that your child would slide free of your body and greet the world so your pain would finally stop. You could not help but feel despair that your labor would be never ending and you silently cursed Knox for asking you to do this for him and yourself for agreeing.

But it does end. You feel it when the foal, your child, finally slides free and you heave a sigh and remain still as you lay in the grass. "Its over." You think to yourself, but your instinct tells you that it is far from over. Its almost as if your body is moving on its own, like you have no control over your own movements. Before you really understand what is happening you're standing, her muzzle searching for the child you just birthed. Your muzzle bumps against a sticky, wet face and you huff a warm breath against it before you begin to clean your child.

"."

ooc://
set after Knox and Aylin's acceptance thread
open to anyone c:
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Isopia the Mountain That Knows Posts: 780
Dragon's Throat Apostle atk: 6.5 | def: 10 | dam: 8.0
Mare :: Tribrid :: 18hh :: 3 - is now aging slowly HP: 90 | Buff: NUMB
Hubris :: Royal Bronze Dragon :: Shock Breath & Frost Breath & Babel :: Royal Gold Dragon :: Fire Breath Odd
#2

[Iso is creeping in a tree. ]

The demi-child heard the sounds of distress, and, perhaps unsurprisingly, was drawn to it.

In her raven form, on black and nearly silent wings, the earthen-girl flew towards the sound of pain and suffering. But this ... this pain seemed different. Guided by a feeling of direction that had formed in her guts, she flew through a world splashed brightly with pulses of colour that didn't belong. Trees appeared pale blue, whereas living things where gradients of reds and yellows. Isopia could see heat in a way that she never dreamed possible, and although the effect was dizzying, she embraced it. This wasn't a plague, this was a gift.

Following the pull and the noise, the girl scooped upwards and landed in a bow above Aylin. She was larger than a normal raven, and her death-markings appeared on her face even in this form - yet she hoped to go unnoticed. So many ignored her on first sight and barely even registered her strange markings. Looking down, her golden eyes narrowed as she saw that there were two bright red forms below, rather than one.

Life.

She thought to herself as she observed the scene below with a distant academic interest. Isopia folded her wings tightly against her body as she watched the way mother and child interacted. The mother is alone - just like her own mother was. However this thought fails to stir anything with the girl. She doesn't feel sadness or regret or longing. It doesn't matter to her that her own birth was non-standard, or that her life has been mostly solitary.

Instead she just watches and learns.




Isopia
Abandon hope, all ye who enter here.
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Abandon all hope, ye who enter here

Milo Posts: 60
Outcast
Stallion :: Equine :: 16.2 hh :: 2 years [Birdsong]
Jen
#3

I'm gonna carry you in
In my head, in my heart, in my soul




First day:

Was day. [Stood, looked, heard, listened.] You, [father?] not there so felt something [disappointment] but did not know why or what. Did not know you were in life first, though, didn't miss you. Had to [see] you to miss you. Didn't see you. You [were gone].

She was [there] so felt something else, [happy], didn't know what.

Didn't stand first, just [sat and looked.] She was somebody but didn't know who so this one [me] made noises. Face was wet from the place this one had been, face was wet from having to look at the place this one was. [Dark but maybe light?] Did something with my [this one's?] face, looked some way [sad. Cried.]

[Cried.]

Cried.

Stopped crying cause? [Bored.] Kept sniffling. Sniffling was sniffing. Made my face-end [nose] wiggle. Put my face in the ground, picked my face up, put it on her [mom-face]. That was something [nice.] There was something there, also. [Dirt.]

Moved my legs about. Did that until made sense. Was standing. Stood. Looked, saw her [mom-face]. That was nice [something?]

Tried learning. Used my inside face [mind]. Then moved, called it something, this one forgets, very [tired.] Was actually something else [walking.] Was fun!

Enjoyed that.

Was nice? Yeah. Nice.

[Ten years later I might think back to this and be like, hey, what the fuck, man? You might be dead then though, so maybe more like five. Two? One? Tomorrow? Or the minute I learn how to speak. Minute I get the] courage? [Fuck You, Dad.]

Maybe not?

Don't know right now [old man.] Can't tell [you.] Don't know [you. Whatever. I don't have that kind of style, you feel? Don't got your old ways in my head the way you do. Don't got nine or ten or twenty five heads like you do, pops. I got my own thing going with] mom-face. She, just a face?

This one [me] looks at mom-face. [Mom?] She is very [pretty.]

[Momma, you know how beautiful you are? Lady I got stories I tell about you to my friends and boy do they laugh, they be like Milo you a momma's boy and I be like fuck you, man. Fuck you. I] this one, got a real sweet mumble like"Mimna?"

[I'll learn.]



background by: http://sirius-sdz.deviantart.com


[[YAY EVERYONE HAVE FUN WITH WEIRD MILO. Don't wait up for Knox. He's coming but a little taken up with a nasty bout of lung disease at the moment.]]

Archibald the Dauntless Posts: 386
Absent Abyss atk: 6.0 | def: 9.5 | dam: 8
Stallion :: Equine :: 18.3 hh :: 10 years HP: 80 | Buff: SHIELD
Loretta :: Alaskan Malamute :: Time Slip Time
#4

The fight in the labyrinth was hard. However, the hand of Resplendence's healing ability had given him strength to make it home. His mind was still reeling with his brother's attack, and Loretta kept swarming his thoughts with terms of punishment. Banish him, she snarled, her anger hotter than his ice-cold heart. No. He has a child coming.

As Archibald stepped into the herd lands, the distant sounds of distress made his heart quicken. Without pause, his hooves made haste towards the sound. As he got closer and closer, the damp forest became clogged with the scent of blood and..and..afterbirth. Slowing to an even trot, with relief plaguing his mind, Archibald shook out his pelt. In the wake of the appearance of the new lands, new creatures, and new gods Archibald was taking up a new shield for the safety of his herd. Rolling his shoulders back, he moved past the brush that was guarding him from the eyes of the mother and infant.

Canine eyes danced upwards to glance at the crow, and she sent the image to her bondmate. The earth filly? She asked, tail curling over her back as she lowered to her belly. She knew to stay away from new mothers and their offspring--Circe had kicked her more than once. The Dauntless could not lift his eyes from the small, black mass at the mare's side to reassure his companion if the demi-goddess was there or not. "Aylin?" Archibald asked, voice low and quiet.

table by tamme for use only by time | |art by her too


Through the ages of time
I've been known for my hate,
but I'm a dealer of simple choices;
for me it's never too late.


please tag me

Maren the Crownless Posts: 264
Outcast atk: 5 | def: 9.5 | dam: 6
Mare :: Pegasus :: 15.0 :: 6 HP: 70 | Buff: NOVICE
Mr. Teatime :: Siberian Tiger :: Sing Yewrezz
#5


Birds chirped around her. The smell of renewal, of Birdsong, was relaxing to her senses. Still, she felt disorientated and lost, could not comprehend what she was seeing as she walked towards something that she didn’t mean to walk towards. Instead of walking south, like she told her hooves they should, they kept on strolling north. However, there was for some strange kind of familiarity in the steps she took, the grass she smelled, the dust that hugged her as the wind caressed her back and pulled her ivory mane, that she was sure this could’ve been the path to the Dragon’s Throat. Yet, her other half of her brain was strangely aware that her orientation was off.

Her sight was strange; grey. Black sludge dripped from the corners of her eyes, framed her golden irises with the dark-grey of something foul, something sick — Because again, she was. This time, however, it was different.

The world changes, these paths are worn but I don’t know them — Or do I? She speculated, as something in her head decided she might as well just let her hooves wander. After all, they had done so for many years until she got to Helovia. They were used to the ways, programmed to seek out the exotic, find the new. Besides, she could not deny the fact that it also oddly intrigued her, fascinated her; her traveler's heart swell up once more for no reason at all.

Somewhere along the path she simply concluded that her mists were retiring themselves in her brain, which could be why it felt so cloudy there. Infected by the disease, Maren wasn't totally aware that she could hear well, or see well, or smell well — but she did still somehow managed to get the impulses through and translated. From where? She didn’t know.

Her heart jolted when all of a sudden she felt cold water falling over her body, and with the shock vibrating through her body, she ran forward. Only half she realized that she had walked through a waterfall, entered somewhere she was not entirely sure she was allowed. You’re in the Hidden Falls again, from the festival, she tried to explain to herself, but her senses did not agree with her.

Maren was stuck in a state of confusion and abnormality.

So, slightly wet now, the Throat’s diviner walked onwards. Then, for some (again) odd reason, the aimless wandering of her eyes stopped to fixate themselves on the dark figure of a bird sitting on something above her. This was important for some reason and Maren’s eyes wandered towards what the bird was looking at. She only sensed them now: A mare had just birthed a colt.

Black goo was still dripping from her eyes, her nose, her mouth and her senses were mixed up to the point that they were hard for even her normally so understanding mind to keep up with. Still, seeing this, her deeply engraved morals were there, prominent in her being; glowing in her insides. The diviner managed to go over there; walked closer and bounded her lips to her will so that she could ask: “Do you need —something?” The typical outlandish tunes of her voice were in a soft, hushed and fading whisper. Having forgotten her strange situation, she showed her care for the mare who had just birthed a child as black goo continued to drip from her nose and lips, stained her cheeks with the lines of dark tears. She watched the renewal of Birdsong come to live with blackened eyes, unaware of any other that was potentially there. Mother and child, just like her brain already was, the sight made her fuzzy in her belly now, too.



Talking


image credits


pm'ed RE for the LL disease. ALSO I do have permission to infiltrate casually and unknowingly <3
Please tag me 

Random Event Posts: 1,286
Helovian Ancient
Stallion :: Equine :: ::
#6
Aylin has contracted GLL.

Knox Posts: 262
Outcast atk: 4 | def: 7.5 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Equine :: 17hh :: 7 Years [Tallsun] HP: 67.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Jen
#7
Knox is not working right.

He knows because he is hearing through his eyes and he is smelling through his eyes and he is feeling through his eyes and everything is in his eyes. Everything. Eyes, eyes, eyes. He feels all the things he has ever felt in a dulled set of emotions and yet at a hypersensitive level. Every sense is more vivid, every sense is in his eyes.

His mind, however, is a muddle. He has lost all memory of the fight he's just roamed from, and his companion is too injured and exhausted to try and battle with his addled brain. He thinks perhaps he was a colt for a time, speaking with another white colt that really just seemed like a snowflake smushed right up against his eyes, but he knows now that this cannot be true because he isn't a colt, he's a very tall being and he is powerful and strong and wait, no, no he isn't.

The labyrinth's lung is a powerful thing. It fills every crack in his body, somehow seeming to ooze from every opening. Black sludge, tear-like trails that are only faintly visible in contrast to his dark coat, covered already in mud and blood and the hate that accompanies murder.

Somewhere in his mind he is distantly and vaguely aware that something important is happening. He breaks through a dancing treeline, feeling the leaves against him like a powerful vision, seeing such contact as thin whispers in his vision, and stumbles into a clearing. He does not recognize the smell but he thinks of his birth, or maybe that was someone else's birth.

He turns to his companion and speaks to her with his eyes: Was it your birth little defective colt?
No, Knox her mind wheezes as she falls onto the dirt and lays alone in a shadow far from the tender caresses of mother and son. Yours.

And then for some reason Knox is moving closer to that smell that looks like oil paints thinned out with too much turpentine. It is a hot, wet, and dripping look of the world. It is through this haze that he first sees his child and mate, faces in delicate contact and appearances mirrored. Somehow he knows there are others here, and his brother, too. He is so happy Archibald has come.

He has missed his brother, so much. He wonders faintly why his side stabs him, showing him black streaks of pain, with every breath--does not make the connection between the dauntless and his own injuries.

Knox is too overwhelmed to do anything but cry out to the two that he has found in the middle of a life consumed by sick, the two that are his family. He must speak, to Aylin, he must tell her how much he cares: "Oh Archibald, Look! Look brother, I've found my love!

He is falling to his knees beside Aylin, contorting back his dappled neck to find his brother's figure through the mist of illness and speak to the Dauntless and the distant red streak of his dog. "Aylin, look! It's our girl, it's our love, she's the most beautiful thing I can see!

And indeed, he can see nothing else.

[[The trauma of the Wolf God fight and fighting with Archibald has caused Knox to retreat into his passive magic and forget his conflict with his brother.

As a result of GLL, Knox experiences all senses through his eyes as a sort of synesthesia and is unable to recognize people through this obscured vision, confusing identities when he tries to speak and make eye contact. Thus, he thinks Manhattan is himself, Archibald is Aylin, Loretta is Milo (and that Milo is a girl,) and Aylin is Archibald. PM'ing RE.

Basically the equivalent of the dad showing up drunk to the hospital, after the birth has happened. SO THIS FAMILY IS GETTING OFF TO A GREAT START.]]

Knox & Manhattan
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Random Event Posts: 1,286
Helovian Ancient
Stallion :: Equine :: ::
#8
Milo has contracted GLL. I think @.@

Miykael Posts: 136
Outcast
Stallion :: Pegasus :: 17hh :: 11 :: Birdsong
Eliana :: Common Zephyr :: Roc Rottie
#9


A lover not a fighter on the frontline with a poem
trying to write yourself a rifle, maybe sharpen up a song
to fight the tanks and drones of you being alone


He, too, came to investigate. Not because he'd heard anything, he hadn't been close enough. But because his zephyr had noticed something off, something strange as she flew past on her way to her favorite resting tree. Strange enough that she turned right around to find her bonded. Within moments she found him. The zephyr flies down, claws and legs extended, and lands upon his back - the way she usually did. 'Come.' she begins, worry clear in her silver eyes. 'Something wrong with Archi, others. Black goo.' she explains in his mind and then she takes off, leading the way to the group.

Miykael follows on hoof, his blue gaze keeping careful watch on Eliana's dark form. His long legs carry him swiftly, covering ground with a sense of duty and urgency pulsing through him. It isn't long before he sees the group, though. 'I see them, dearheart. Go rest.' he speaks softly, soothingly in Eliana's mind. The zephyr chirps in response then flutters on, disappearing into the trees. She obeyed but he knew she wouldn't be resting, not much. It was far more likely she'd be vigilant - waiting for him. Tucking his large white wings more tightly against his sides, he moves forward, eyes fraught with curiosity and concern. He recognized Archibald, as would be expected, but everyone else was foreign to him. The scent of blood and afterbirth filled the air and as he draws near, his blue gaze shifts to the small, newborn foal. His gaze shifted from one face to the next before he settled on Archibald. "Pardon my intrusion." he offers, inclining his neck respectfully. Straightening himself back up, he quickly notices the 'black goo' that Eliana had told him about.

His king, however, came first. "Sir, please hold still." And with little hesitation he moves closer to Archibald. Once he pulls to a stop, he focuses his healing magic on Archibald. A light, warm and soothing, envelopes the king. With the ailment being unknown, he focuses more intensely than he needs to with external wounds. By the time the light fades away, Miykael's head throbs - a wave of dizziness causing him to sway a moment. The healer manages to steady himself though concern furrows his brow. Had it worked? He couldn't be certain but even if it hadn't cleared his king of this... black goo, at least he'd tried.

[note: permission from Time to pp the magic a bit. attempting a cure for GLL @Random Event ]


Miykael
At war with love

credits :: royal genesis, sippanont samchai, coding by rottie
[Image: mikey_by_moonstone_designs-d9dgnba.png]
icon base: Bronzehalo :: from Nickel <3

permission for all except death and dismemberment.
** please tag miykael in replies **
replies slow? check here for status updates.

Random Event Posts: 1,286
Helovian Ancient
Stallion :: Equine :: ::
#10
Archibald feels momentary relief from GLL.

[I need Archibald's confirmation of the magic affecting him]

Archibald the Dauntless Posts: 386
Absent Abyss atk: 6.0 | def: 9.5 | dam: 8
Stallion :: Equine :: 18.3 hh :: 10 years HP: 80 | Buff: SHIELD
Loretta :: Alaskan Malamute :: Time Slip Time
#11

Black tar oozed from the orifices on the Czar's face, painting his white blaze darker than even his night-black coat. As he stared down at the tiny creature, so new to this world, and the mother that lay vigil over it, the Dauntless felt light headed. A pounding, throbbing ache numbed his mind and he looked--well, he looked like hell. Loretta whined from her vantage point, worry spread over her canine features. The sickness had not affected her physically, but she felt all the symptoms that raged on Archibald's body and mind. Archibald coughed a racking cough, staining the lush grass and his feathers black with the sticky ooze. Archibald groaned, shaking his body as if to attempt tp rid himself of the sickness with sheer will alone. Instead, he managed only to splatter the ooze every-which direction and move his steel breast collar. Hanging his head once more, golden eyes suddenly went wide with alarm and his head shot up.

So many bodies moved through the forest towards him, towards the colt, that it made him rigid. A protective instinct, a summoning shield of wellness-imitating will made Archibald move between the child and the tiger-painted lady. "You dare trespass here, in the forest of the Dauntless." Archibald growled, his voice low and cold, as he sent his bone-to-stone magic towards Maren. "State your name and purpose here, woman." Archibald commanded, voice suddenly regaining its booming tone that struck with power and authority. The appearance of his brother, the defective colt, made his blood run cold and nearly forget about the woman intruder--but his magic did not lift.

Turning his head towards Knox, Archibald reached down and snapped a cold, warning bite towards his brother's shoulder. "Be silent." He warned. Mikyael was on the scene next. Lifting a brow, Archibald stepped towards the healer. While the Dauntless did not know much about the stag personally, he knew him to be loyal to this herd and his leaders. Nodding his head, Archibald lowered his eyelids over golden irises. Carefully he breathed out. Magic warmed Archibald's core, relieving the pounding of his head bringing his senses back to where they should be. "Thank you, Mikyael."

Archibald did not know whether he was cured or not, but it sure felt damn good to have some semblance of normalcy brought back to his body and mind.

[gives posting order a big-ole finger]

table by tamme for use only by time | |art by her too


@Random Event


Through the ages of time
I've been known for my hate,
but I'm a dealer of simple choices;
for me it's never too late.


please tag me

Random Event Posts: 1,286
Helovian Ancient
Stallion :: Equine :: ::
#12
Archibald is cured of GLL!

Maren the Crownless Posts: 264
Outcast atk: 5 | def: 9.5 | dam: 6
Mare :: Pegasus :: 15.0 :: 6 HP: 70 | Buff: NOVICE
Mr. Teatime :: Siberian Tiger :: Sing Yewrezz
#13


The tones of a soft bell rang, quivering, fading away as the newborn's voice was heard wading through the air for the first time. Aylin, her name was apparently, said by those who were starting to shuffle around her. She started to feel them on her skin, hear their gibberish projecting in her mind, but didn’t think much of it until one threw a shadow over her and moved in her way.

"You dare trespass here, in the forest of the Dauntless."
She heard the words and they awakened her. Maren looked up to find the tar-stained face that had brought out the low growls. The Dauntless. She realized who he was supposed to be. Czar. She hated herself for it, but not one inch could she control  her own. She felt small and weak before his magnificent size and instinctively she did a step away from him and the mare. Still, although almost fainted into a whisper, her voice managed to remain calm, and she attempted to smile and bow her once spotless head to the apparent King. She cleared her throat. "This appears to indeed not be my desert home, then... Either way," and she had wanted to once again let her desiring glance find the newborn colt. 

Instead; a strange, sudden coldness ran over her, overwhelmed her in its bath. First her skin, then slipped down into her very bones and made a nest in the depths of her skeleton. A taste of stress washed into her mouth to spread its taste of reluctance. Frustration grew in her muscles. Are you... 

"You... dare..." 

His voice echoed in her ears and she pushed them back as her wings hugged her neck in fright. She felt strangely fragile, powerless. All she had to protect herself with were mixed senses and no clear vision. She felt like taking in a deep breath of perhaps stress-relieving air, but everything within her worked against her as she did. But despite that all she felt the rage, she felt the fury, because how dare he.

Perhaps the foal was his and he was simply protecting it. 
Perhaps the mare was his everything and he was her all.

But he had not introduced himself as a father. There was no emotional pride for a newborn son on his slick tongue. Did you not introduce yourself as a cold and control-hungry king-of-the-hill?

Her eyes did not lose his, would not let go even if she had wanted. So instead she answered his protective golden stare with one of her own. She digged her hooves into the soil beneath her and attempted to pull up her chin through all the frozenness of her body, eyes cold as the bones in her body. Don’t mistake me for a mere rabbit, as she had a home she was proud of being one with and she would not break down the honor of that family. "Diviner... Of the Dragon's Throat." She breathed through her stiff jaws and gritted teeth.  

Some kind of healer-stallion came by, apparently helping him in his suffering. Her eyes narrowed to golden slits. What did he wanted from her more? Her eyes wandered as she almost began to find his distraction rude. Also hello to you, 
Mikyael. How are you today, Mikyael?
If this Czar was going to have her sentenced, then at least he should keep his attention focused. And she began to think: Had she not the right to speak up in this alliance; even though, forsaken as it felt?

“You dare to put me down with your magic as I, the only other mare here —” she took in another breath, cursing her body and cursing him. “— attempt to help your birthing mare?” 




 

image credits



@Random Event, @Archibald, @
Mikyael and uh everyone else - runs off to school -
Please tag me 

Aylin Posts: 89
Hidden Account
Mare :: Unicorn :: 16.0 :: 3
ali
#14
Aylin
moonlight burns out all but the brightest stars

There are too many that arrive, too many that are present for the birth of your first child, but the one you want to be there the most isn't. Fear clenches in your chest and makes it hard for you to breathe. Where is Knox? Why isn't he here? "Its okay, Milo..." You whisper to your child even though it is more of an attempt to make yourself feel better about Knox's absence. Milo. His name falls from your lips and you smile to yourself. Unlike Knox you don't believe and you haven't believed that the child you were carrying was a girl. You hoped and wished for a son and had picked out his name when you had finally come to accept that you were going to be a mother.

"Aylin?"

Your head lifts and your silvery eyes look in the direction your name had come from. "Where's Knox?" You whisper. "He was supposed to be here..." He promised he would stay. Still more appear, their scents are ones that you don't know and being a new mother it makes you nervous. You move your body to shield your precious child from those around you, but they seem to be paying little attention to you. You hear Knox's voice but there is something wrong about it. You hear Archibald's harsh commands, hear another woman's voice, the calmer voice of another stallion and it is all too much for you. You're shaking, nervous, ready to yell at all of them to go away and leave you with your child, but then you hear the sweetest voice to ever grace your ears.

"Mimna."

A sob catches in your throat and you lean your head down to nuzzle your child. Mimna. "Milo..." You whisper as you continue to ignore everyone around you and the fact that black sludge is beginning to drip from your nose onto your child.

"."



Image Credit

Miykael Posts: 136
Outcast
Stallion :: Pegasus :: 17hh :: 11 :: Birdsong
Eliana :: Common Zephyr :: Roc Rottie
#15
He reassured their minds by his serenity.
His countenance, wherein his soul was visible,
expressed contempt for danger.


Miykael simply nods his head in response to Archibald's words. His blue eyes scan the face of the Dauntless and notice a rather significant improvement in his condition. A triumphant glee swells in his chest but he remains rooted in place for the moment, allowing his gaze to shift between each of the individual's present in this small gathering. It doesn't take long for him to recognize the sickness in the others, including the mare that held his king's ire. Concern once more furrows his brow and he turns once more to Archibald. "Sir... she's sick." he states, pausing just once. "See the black stuff staining her face? Perhaps the illness confused her. I don't believe she means any harm." he adds, sighing softly despite himself. "Please," but he here he pauses, shifting his blue eyes to the odd mare with the wings behind her ears. "Let me heal you." it isn't so much a question as a request. He wouldn't ask Archibald's permission on this and he certainly wouldn't back down or let her leave like this.

With determination clear upon his face, he concentrates on his magic; focusing it in the striped foreigner's chest and allows the small ball of warm, soothing light to expand and encase her lungs. He holds it there for a few moments before letting it go. The light fades and is rather quickly vanquished. This time, he is far more confident. This time, he doesn't linger and wait for her to confirm what he already knew. This time, he is more prepared for the subsequent side-effects and manages to hide his discomfort while remaining steady. The blackness should be gone now and he'd done all he could to help her. Ultimately, Archibald has the final say, so far now the healer simply holds his tongue. He is quiet as he turns his attention to the new mother. His blue eyes soften at the sight and though he longs to comfort her, he knows his presence is unwelcome. "It's alright." he murmurs to her, his voice softer and more soothing.

Once more he pulls on his healing magic, focusing it in the chest of the new mother. Its healing warmth encases her lungs, obliterating the darkness and pulling the disease from her body. It lingers for a few moments, as it had before, and then the light simply vanishes. The pain in his head grows more sharp and insistent, causing him to wince as he tucks his head in towards his chest. He remains still, almost frozen in that position before he breathes in deeply and returns his attention to Archibald. "She's alright now, Sir. Perhaps we should take this discussion elsewhere? Give the new mother some peace and quiet with her newborn son?" His voice remains even and fairly gentle, though his gaze is pleading. It was clear to him that the new mother is overwhelmed by the size of the group - perhaps, too, by the unknown faces - his included, of course.


M I Y K A E L
HEALER OF THE HIDDEN FALLS


Image Credit


@Archibald
@Maren
@Aylin
@Random Event
[Image: mikey_by_moonstone_designs-d9dgnba.png]
icon base: Bronzehalo :: from Nickel <3

permission for all except death and dismemberment.
** please tag miykael in replies **
replies slow? check here for status updates.

Archibald the Dauntless Posts: 386
Absent Abyss atk: 6.0 | def: 9.5 | dam: 8
Stallion :: Equine :: 18.3 hh :: 10 years HP: 80 | Buff: SHIELD
Loretta :: Alaskan Malamute :: Time Slip Time
#16

The effects of Mikyael's magic was already running through Archibald's system and combating the disease the Moon Goddess' fight had bestowed upon him. The black ooze that dribbled from his facial orifices started to dry up, leaving only the remnant whisper of it on his face. Loretta mused that she would clean it up later, but Archibald would not let her ingest this slime. He would dip himself in one of the calmer pools of their home. Closing his eyes for a moment, Archibald sighed a deep sigh of relief.

Lifting his head, the Dauntless took a step toward the odd-winged trespasser. Black ears flicked atop his massive crown as he listened to Mikyael's wise and kind words. Carefully, the Dauntless retracted the magic from the woman's bones. She would be able to walk free, now. Healed of this terrible disease, should she become violent, Archibald would end her. No matter who she was at this moment, she was a threat to this child--his nephew--and Archibald would let no harm come to the innocent babe. "So be it." Archibald responded to Mikyael as he angelic stallion moved to heal the woman. Golden eyes hardened, and Loretta moved behind Archibald to stand protectively before Aylin and her colt.

"Find no offense in my hostility, for I doubt the inhabitants of the desert would act any less strongly to defend their own." The Czar did not ask for forgiveness from this mare, for it was not necessary. Archibald had done what he saw fit to make sure the protection of his herd members was still held to his highest priority. "Your hooves may have guided you wrongly, but I admire your heart to help another despite the circumstances. I believe we have this well under hoof, now. I will escort you to the borders, and find you a suitable partner should you desire an escort all the way to your home." Archibald turned his head and nodded to Aylin, his defective brother, and their son.

"But first, your name." Archibald stated. With that, he also moved to motion for Mikyael to follow them. Golden eyes scanned back to the Diviner and he moved to close the distance between them, his mammoth body attempting to gently herd her back toward their border.

table by tamme for use only by time | |art by her too


@Mikyael @Maren


Through the ages of time
I've been known for my hate,
but I'm a dealer of simple choices;
for me it's never too late.


please tag me

Maren the Crownless Posts: 264
Outcast atk: 5 | def: 9.5 | dam: 6
Mare :: Pegasus :: 15.0 :: 6 HP: 70 | Buff: NOVICE
Mr. Teatime :: Siberian Tiger :: Sing Yewrezz
#17


But, as she damned the Dauntless in the silent boundaries of her mind, Miykael decided to come to her aid. Confúuused? HAH, me?! she thought, definitely shouting from the insides that she wasn't that old yet. However after putting aside her own frustrations and pride, when she started to think logically about it, she realized it was true: This was not the Throat.

Without seemingly even flinching, the stallion came to her without hesitating, let some kind of washy glow fall over her senses. It felt nice and, little by little, she felt her aching lungs calm down and the feeling that she was leaking from all holes starve away. She could see again, see realized as she let her eyes follow the one that had selflessly healed her. "Oh." She blinked, thought for a moment that the angelic vibe he had over him like a glow had just been her washy eyes, but it was just him. Appreciating her refreshed senses, she barely heard what the Czar had to say. He had loosened his magical grip on her and immediately which had made her calm down more, too. Nevertheless she could not just simply ignore the fact that it had happened, as she hated constricting magic with a (newly found) passion.

The Diviner ‘hmpf’ed once, proving her lasting irritation as she started to turn her body around after throwing one last glance on the mare and her newborn foal. Yet, her muscles had relaxed and the tones in her voice had lost the rage from a minute ago. (She knew) Somewhere he was right: Of course the warriors of the Throat would react the same way, and even if they did not… well, either way she could not speak for them. “Let’s hope they do,” At least she could now tell her Sultan she had intimidated the Dauntless of the Falls. That was something, right? Yet another story to tell. “Just be sure to mark me down as a 'no-threat', please and thank you.” Maren found his eyes and bowed her head with too much of a smile to be true. “Priests only corrupt minds, not bodies,” she mumbled in a hesitant whisper to the ground. She swallowed; “...Or so I’ve heard.” Then again, he could not expect her to not be at least a tiny bit frustrated — for she had the right to be furious. And she could not help noticing the little goosebumps pushing up the hairs on her red-striped back either, for she was afraid her loud-mouth might spit out something that would anger him again, falling back into that hole of consequences — and suddenly she longed to be... home. Back in the Throat, where her family, tasks and projects awaited her, for she needed that rock-farm now more than ever.

“My name is Maren”, she finally concluded with a sigh after having pulled up her head, watching his gold eyes now in freedom. Realizing she might have been wrong after all, so she put up the most sincere smile she could muster. “As long as my bones are as light as the feathers on my head I will be perfectly fine wandering back south on my own.” She turned her head to the new mother. Maren smiled, now sincere. Adoring the tiny foal and his childish speech (now that it can't say stupid things yet). “Congratulations, you are in good hands,” in her hushed, feminine voice of course referring to the angelic Miykael. Finally, she turned her tiger striped frame towards... wherever, as she realized she had no idea through what creative way her mixed sensed had actually brought her into this corner of Helovia. And thus she acknowledged (after an awkward clearing of her throat)  in a slightly forced way the offer of the Czar —just one more time. “Yes, please escort me.”




 

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@Everyonederp -runs away in a hury-
@Random Event, am I cured ..? :o
Please tag me 

Random Event Posts: 1,286
Helovian Ancient
Stallion :: Equine :: ::
#18
Maren is cured of GLL!

Milo Posts: 60
Outcast
Stallion :: Equine :: 16.2 hh :: 2 years [Birdsong]
Jen
#19

I'm gonna carry you in
In my head, in my heart, in my soul



This one gets [name].

Milo. Miiiiiiiiii-lo. My lo. You, mom, mimna, [press your face to mine with a tenderness I recognize as family. Father is somewhere else, rolling upon the earth and dripping pathetically from his eyes. He can barely see beyond his own body, but you, mother. You love me. You always loved me,] you press, you [love. I thought about love as a strong bond, but I didn't yet know what it was. What are bonds, if not shackles? There's a sort of prison in wanting affection, an even deeper one in wanting it unconditionally. What could I expect from this family, really?

In the end, I think we were just struggling to stay alive together.] 

Father makes loud hurt, [groans], strangers leave. [Archibald, left too, and with him a sliver of family it would take a large time to understand. How can you come even close to knowing a Dauntless one like him?]

Just us. Just family.

[Looking back on it now I remember almost nothing but the sound. The waterfalls, distant, and the wind sending echoing rustles through the treetops. It was warm. I was born in Birdsong and I was born alone. There was no one sprung forth from the womb at my side. I will never have one so connected to me like that, I fear. Such loneliness is encompassing. Such loneliness, I did not understand at the time. I only] watch, see strangers leave. Just us. Just family.

Father, [moaning and crying, wracked with illness and bleeding disease. He could not recognize the ones he loved most. Manhattan,] dog, [she put her paw upon him in the soft comfort with which on treats the dying,] Mother, [she loved me and did not see him, which I would learn was because she could not see anything,] and Milo, this one.

Me.





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