the Rift


[OPEN] I'd look good on you

Dovahkiin Posts: N/A
Unregistered
:: :: ::
#1


Ahrk fin Kel lost prodah, do ved viing ko fin krah,
Tol fod zeymah win kein meyz fundein!

The sun had risen to its' highest point in the sky by the time she trudged through the pond and squeezed through the trees of the Secret Grove. So far, the day had been rather uneventful; something the dragonborn had encountered frequently here in Helovia and she still can't bring herself to get used to such a mundane life. With a heavy sigh, the dragonborn continues west, until she reaches the coast. She then follows it south a bit until she reaches the sandy shores. The beach is quiet aside from the small waves crashing forward and slipping back in an endless cycle. The bright blue of the ocean kisses the horizon in the distance, connecting blue with blue: water with sky. For a mare of black - of darkness and of shadows - she seemed out of place on the bright and seemingly cheerful beach.

It is also infinitely uncomfortable for the dragonborn to be without some darkness or shadows but she need to know every inch of Helovia. Every inch includes the places she'd likely only visit once if she could help it, and this place certainly makes that list. The salt from the sea taints everything here, including the warm breeze combing the unruly red-tipped black tresses of her mane and tail. Heat from the sun warms her back; the black of her coat absorbing the warmth with a rather greedy abandon. Facing the sea, the dragonborn simply stands - green gaze focused and yet not, her coat shiny beneath the sun's rays highlighting the hard curves of her strong and sturdy body. Her hooves blending with the red socks on her legs where the sunlight directly caressed their surface. Bormah's pendant, attached just behind her ear on the base of her right antler, shivers in the ocean winds - drawing her attention away from her empty and rather lonely existence. Her thoughts rather easily drift to the Dragon God of Time, Bormah. She welcomes the distraction.

A few moments pass before a small smile curves her lips. "Nahlot dii zeymah." she says softly, her voice somewhat rough and thick.  As usual, her voice sounds fairly sultry; somehow sexually charged even alone as she is in this moment. For the first time since her arrival in Helovia, though, her vigilance slips. She doesn't even notice the presence of another nearby. It's a potentially dangerous situation. Not for herself, no. The dragonborn is well versed and well trained to take care of herself. Death didn't knock on her door. She picked the lock for Death on the doors of others. It was what she had trained for back home and it isn't something she could easily forget.

DOVAHKIIN
image credit


@Ghost
Translations:
Nahlot dii zeymah = Silence my brother

Ghost the Cadaverous Posts: 219
Outcast atk: 5.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 5.5
Mare :: Hybrid :: 16hh :: 6 years HP: 67 | Buff: ENDURE
Fantôme :: Grey Wolf :: None imi
#2
Someone reaching for me now
Through the dark, reaching for me now
You need someone to hear you when you sigh...
Someone to love you more than I


The day peaked and the wind drifted, as did her mind, which lingered on thoughts of disease and rifts. The words of Ampere turned over in her mind time after time, how did they not know how they caught these sicknesses? Everyone usually at least had a guess, something they touched or ate, perhaps it was genetic or something. It was that something that usually led to an idea or a hypothesis of a cure, but if one did not know how they got the disease then how could one know how to cure it?! Weren’t Gods meant to be the helpful immortal beings at times like this? Though Ghost increasingly thought that these days they prayed to them like good subjects only to be thrown darkness and doom. What were they doing all the time that something, somewhere always went spectacularly wrong? Not only that, they couldn’t even fix it without asking for help of the mortals below with their limited power and plucky hearts, they even had the audacity to claim their mighty title of God. Gods were meant to be signs of hope, not despair. Every time Ghost came across one she found herself thinking “what now” instead of words of fealty.

"Leave it Ghost" she murmured to herself with exasperation in her voice. Perhaps she was getting a little carried away in the back of her mind. That and she’d somehow managed to meander onto the beach and her gaze brightened visibly. The sprite, who hid around corners and in the shadows, also happened to like sunny beaches with their glorious, open spaces. It wasn’t quite right, it didn’t suit her, but her soul sang to the sound of lapping waves and the brisk wind that rolled off the shore. Perhaps it was a longing or a sense of freedom that coaxed the edges of her lips upwards into a pleasant smile.

Even a mare as dark and brooding as she could radiate from simple joy.

She wasn’t alone, however, she had left Fantöme some ways behind (probably hunting somewhere) and it was the figure of another horse that Ghost’s sharp gaze spotted. As the Cadaverous made her approach she found she recognized the mare whose striking coat made her quite easy to remember. However, it appeared Ghost hadn’t been noticed and she watched the mare for a moment, taking a strange kind of pleasure in watching what others do when the other didn’t know they were being watched. A strange but sultry language slid from the maw of Dovahkiin and the banshee couldn’t help but smile. She had quite liked this one when once they had met in the claiming grounds of Helovia. However, Ghost remembered Ampere’s first greeting and she hangs back somewhat, conflict marring her gaze as she examined the mare for visible signs of illness.

"Dovahkiin, right?" her breathy, smooth voice inquired, the uncertainty edging into her vocals.



:T it wont let me tag youuu




Ghost
Image Credits!
Let the heat of the sun
Reignite your memory
Because if we just turn and run
Let them fire the gun

❚ Force permitted, just don't kill her :3
❚ Please tag me!
❚ Pixel by Nyte

Dovahkiin Posts: N/A
Unregistered
:: :: ::
#3


Ahrk fin Kel lost prodah, do ved viing ko fin krah,
Tol fod zeymah win kein meyz fundein!

As much as the dragonborn wants to despise the brightness of this little patch of bright beach and vivid ocean, she can't quite bring herself to hate it as much as she'd hoped. She could find value in the peaceful air, the gentle rolling and roaring of the ocean currents crashing against the shore. It is definitely relaxing, though perhaps she'd be more keen if it weren't quite so hot. Her black coat absorbs the sun's rays with greedy abandon, heating the dark and muscled mare beyond what she considers her comfort zone. The sun feels particularly hot this day, or perhaps it's simply her own imagination... or something else entirely. Regardless, she can feel the sweat beginning to coat her neck, beading and trickling down in narrow lines until they drip from her throat and into the pale sand below where it quickly disappears. Her concentration on... nothing, it seems, doesn't waver. She doesn't move, aside from the occasional flick of her long red-tipped tail or a twitch of her dark ears. The occasional breeze blows in from the ocean, ruffling her long locks.

But the dragonborn is steadfast.

Something had changed in her while she stood upon the beach, gazing out into the distance with those sickly green eyes of hers. First her breathing began to rattle, her lungs feeling strangely heavy and wet in her chest. The black mess hadn't built up enough for it to ooze from the mare's orifices, though it would be a bit more difficult to tell when it did due to her predominantly black coat. When she exhales, she feels the odd desire to sniffle and a tickle forms in her throat - bearable for now but likely to induce coughing a bit later. What the hell was this? Then, after just one heartbeat, she remembers. That damned stallion in the forest. He'd been ill when she stumbled upon him. His words are still vivid in her mind, something about it being too late for her. The dragonborn rather abruptly pins her ears back and narrows her green eyes to angry little slits.

Fucking bastard.

Dovahkiin had been thoroughly distracted with cursing the damned brute in her mind to notice the approach of another. It isn't until a familiar breathy voice interrupts her train of thought that the mare realizes she's no longer alone. The voice along brings a smirk to her face, remembering well the mare it belongs to. "Vokun fahdon." she breathes, the words somehow sexually charged despite herself. But she doesn't turn to face her. She can't. Whatever this disease is, the dragonborn would be unlikely to forgive herself if she spreads this disease to Ghost. Instead, she sighs softly, pinning her green orbs to the shifting ocean waves. "Ghost... there's something wrong with me. I... I think I'm sick." her sultry voice is somehow softer, dulcet tones erasing the rougher edges. Dovahkiin wants her company. She wants her shadow friend to stay but whatever this is, it's highly contagious. And try as she might to deny it, Dovahkiin actually does care for Ghost - perhaps more than she had ever anticipated.

DOVAHKIIN
image credit


[sorry for the delay! D: my other characters took over]
@Ghost
Random Event for GLL

Ghost the Cadaverous Posts: 219
Outcast atk: 5.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 5.5
Mare :: Hybrid :: 16hh :: 6 years HP: 67 | Buff: ENDURE
Fantôme :: Grey Wolf :: None imi
#4
Someone reaching for me now
Through the dark, reaching for me now
You need someone to hear you when you sigh...
Someone to love you more than I


"Huh" her ears quiver back and forth whilst her eyes never strayed from the striped mare who was acting… Strange. The way she seemed to struggle to breathe and the way she carried herself as if she was suddenly struck by something unexpected. One step, two… Ghost shuffles back in fear that the disease was here and Dovahkiin was the unfortunate infected that threatened the banshee’s quite sparkling health. Ghost could fight battles if she had to, go into uncharted territory if she must, but disease could kill no matter how hard you fought and the spy feared being engulfed by it. Though she had yet to hear of any deaths concerning the disease, Ghost shivered at the thought of dying sick and unable to move. It was disgusting. Three… Four… she backed away more until the mare spoke in her foreign tongue, her voice was alluring, attractive even, and the banshee might have been compelled to brush up along side her had it not been for the potential infection. Her dark gaze searched her body for the ooze, but this mare was black just like herself, would she even see it.

She narrowed her eyes, her concentration channelled towards Dovahkiin’s bodice as she silently grabbed her magic in a natural reaction, like a warrior would grab for his shield, she grabbed for her lies, the illusion that bought her time. It was as if she was being attacked, but the monster was invisible and it left the banshee confused as to what to do. Was there even a monster? Ghost flipped back and forth in her mind, trying to calm herself to address the situation… Then, finally, Dovahkiin said the words that Ghost feared and the banshee stumbled back again.

What? Sick?

Just like slamming a foot on the accelerator of a get away car, Ghost released the magic before she could think about it and her heart jumped into her throat. Her magic weaved an illusion of storm clouds and blood that was aimed directly for the mare in front of her. The sprite bit her lip to save herself from crying out in sudden surprise at herself as the red rain fell and burned as it did. At least Dovahkiin would be unharmed, but it wouldn’t seem that way if the magic found its way into her mind. "I-" the spy stumbled over her words, she didn’t want the disease, but she didn’t want to cause the mare (who may already be in discomfort) more pain. "S-sorry" she managed, not really knowing what else to say.

What now? After trying to manipulate her friend was she going to just turn and runaway? Instead, she froze into position and battled with her inner self that urged her to run from the sickness and another, more benevolent side, that wanted to stay and help the mare; like a stunned prey caught in a trap, Ghost tried to level her breathing once again and clear the chaos from her mind. 

"Idiot" she berated herself silently for acting so rashly.



Ghost releases her magic at Dovahkiin:
[ Magic: DarkxLight | Ability to create an illusion of raining blood that has a burning sensation, but causes no physical damage ] 

It's up to you Rottie how much you want it to affect Dova :3

@Dovahkiin




Ghost
Image Credits!
Let the heat of the sun
Reignite your memory
Because if we just turn and run
Let them fire the gun

❚ Force permitted, just don't kill her :3
❚ Please tag me!
❚ Pixel by Nyte

Dovahkiin Posts: N/A
Unregistered
:: :: ::
#5


Ahrk fin Kel lost prodah, do ved viing ko fin krah,
Tol fod zeymah win kein meyz fundein!

Faintly she hears the shuffling of Ghost's hooves. Subtle, almost hidden by the crashing of the waves upon the shore. But it's there, tugging at the dragonborn's attention - practically begging her to turn her head. Like a lasso around her neck, it tugs at her. She doesn't like not knowing, not seeing. Information is key to survival but she holds strong, green eyes stare unseeing across the endless blue. Would it help? Could facing the infected so directly be key to the transmission of the disease? The dragonborn may not know the answers but what she does know is that she'd never touched the stallion, never ventured than several lengths away. Here and now, she isn't about to gamble or test any theories. Had it been someone else, anyone else, the situation may have been entirely different. Perhaps then she wouldn't give a shit about spreading this rather irritating disease.

More steps. More silence. Then almost suddenly the sky darkens, drawing her attention upwards to see the rapid formation of storm clouds overhead. For the briefest of moments, she felt relief - not from the symptoms, mind you, but rather from the heat. The dark and angry clouds move in to block the sun and her lips curve into relieved smile. Just as her lips part with the intent of uttering some form of 'thank you, Akatosh' for the pleasant shade, something... drops of red start to fall from the clouds. In her confusion, she simply freezes. Since when did rain look like that? Wait, is that blood?! The dragonborn had little time to admire the blood rain because that's when it made contact with her skin. Each drop burned with a searing agony that almost instantly tenses her muscled form. She stumbles as she attempts to contort herself, tucking her head against her chest and clenching her jaw in the hopes of holding back the scream threatening to tear itself from her throat. A muffled, almost strangled cry manages to slip past her dark lips. Drop after drop pings against her dark flesh, streaking down her sides and clinging to her thick, tangled mane and tail. If it weren't for the pain, she'd probably be admiring her blood soaked hide.

The dragonborn squeezes her eyes shut and suddenly, like the flip of a switch, the pain is gone. Slowly the tension eases itself out of her body, leaving her trembling. Somehow, she managed to stay upright throughout the whole ordeal  but now she doesn't trust her legs to hold up her weight should she attempt to move. Oddly, however, her symptoms seem to ease. It isn't instantaneous, no, but her breath comes easier and the thickness in her throat seems to be dissipating as well. Inhaling as deeply, the dark mare feels the quivering lessen. For several moments she simply stood in the silence, quiet like a statue until Ghost's sweet voice tickles her ears. As the realization dawns on her, Dovahkiin carefully turns to face the other mare. "You...you did that?" she asks, but there is no anger to her tone, just admiration. "That's... impressive." her voice is sultry again, heated both by her presence and her magic. And really fucking hot. she adds mentally, a devious little smile curling her dark lips.

Dovahkiin, feeling remarkably better, takes slow yet measured steps towards her. Pinning her in her sickly green gaze and not bothering to hide the heat and intensity smoldering within, the dragonborn hopes to will the dark mare to stay. Oh, how she'd missed that face. "Where have you been hiding, dii vokun?" she asks as she slows her approach, careful to avoid scaring her off. She'd only just found Ghost again and she sure as hell isn't going send her running away yet. At least, she hopes not.


DOVAHKIIN
image credit


dii vokun = my shadow

@Ghost
@Random Event for GLL


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