the Rift

SWP :: Blunt Little Instruments (Conclusion)

God of the Earth Posts: 287
Helovian Ancient
Stallion :: Equine :: 22.0hh :: Ageless

The GOD of the EARTH

regret has no sway over fate

The tigress, for all her fury and might, is nothing beneath the combined strength of the Helovians that fight for their land. The Earth God watches as she totters, swiping and screaming her fury to heavens that watch her suffering impartially. This is not her domain, and her pride is her weakness, thinking she was strong enough to slip into a foreign land that did not support her magic and still win. She does not go willingly, struggling against Isopia’s magic as she chokes and drowns, deaf and blind. Justified suffering for the pain and death she has caused on the battlefield, and the God feels regret for how he has failed all of them. Though he’d not promised, he’d hoped. A battle that should never have involved his flock ended up the downfall of a few scattered souls.
The thunderous crash as the tigress falls, stone-legged and helpless beneath Archibald’s magic and Isopia’s sludge. Her bodice is ripped and pierced – Volterra’s doing, with his earthen spikes – and the blood soaks into the ground as readily as the tar. Ophelia and Cera flit about the falling form, darting in to land punishing blows that keep the goddess pinned like a struggling butterfly. “It’s over,” the Earth God proclaims, and the tiger’s body goes rigid and then slumps as her heart gives out beneath Isopia’s pressure. He does not let the body linger long, aware of the Helovians trapped beneath her, and in glowing light he wrenches onto her substance and pulls until she is disembodied beneath the shroud.
They are all worthy, those who fought and those who healed – a glance is spared towards Resplendence, checking on Erthe’s progress. The tiger’s hide is first, the largest object of the remains, and he settles it with a thought at the crumpled forms of Ampere and Zekle. Though the two did not see eye to eye, Ampere was a fierce protector deserving of the similarly fierce tiger’s skin. To another, a Rift child who’d doubted his existence, the god’s sharpened femur is gifted. The skull he materializes before Dragomir, the last large gift of the body given. It is not the only, bottles of blood glinting innocently in the tar-stained grass near Sno, Ranjiri, Knox, Ghost and Ashamin. Glowing more insidiously are long, wicked claws, scattered near Shida, Volterra, Kipling, Mauja and Archibald.
He turned his face to the battlefield, weary and regretful. So the cycle had continued after all. A gentle nod was given to Isopia, proud of her for striking the killing blow. At last he turned to them as a whole. “This is the end,” he vowed firmly. “Return to your herds, tend to your wounded. The fight is over, be at peace.” As the last words washed over them, he extended his power across all of Helovia, settling into the bones of those afflicted with disease. They would be free of the painful clutches and adverse effects within minutes, and though he had no strength left to physically heal those around him as his sister had, it was his hope that it would do something to ease their pain nonetheless. It was the only apology that would matter to them, for all that he and his siblings had cost them. 

All SWP diseases have been cured! 


Zèklè Posts: 166
Outcast atk: 8.0 | def: 10 | dam: 3.5
Colt :: Pegasus :: 14.1 :: Three HP: 67 | Buff: NOVICE
a loaded god complex, cock it and pull it


Ma, I'm scared.

Stomach-plummet-vomit-inducing-eyes-widening-screaming-crying-fear. Zero had never been afraid before, not really, not like this, not with the potential for his life to be gone, with no hope of a future, fear. The tiger was rising up beneath him, and no matter how he struggled, no matter how he tried to flail his useless wing, it just kept coming and coming and coming until - slam - there it was! - and he was there - and he bounced off, screaming, one word, the only word, the first and last word he'd ever say because it was the only face he ever wanted to see again -


Ma, I'm scared.

Save me.

Ma. Help!

And she was there. Like a blue angel she appeared, and he was flying toward her - flying! - really flying, and he was full of hope again, because Ma meant safe! Ma would save him! Gone were Zero's dreams of heroism, his foolhardy valor, his stupid, stupid need to prove himself. He was the one who needed a hero now. He was the one who needed a Ma.

"Ma! Ma!"


There were two thumps, actually, but they were hard to distinguish between. By the second one he wondered if maybe he was dead. Probably. I'm dead, he thought, to try it out, but then why did he hurt so much? That didn't seem right. So maybe he wasn't dead. That led to many more possibilities. Was he half-dead? Mostly dead? That didn't seem likely either. Maybe, he began to hope, he was still alive?

Zero reached for something to verify this fact, his small body wriggling softly as he sought anyone, anything, proof that this was the same world he was accustomed to. He became aware of a body, her body, his hero's body, his Ma's body, and for that moment everything was ok. Ma wouldn't let him die. His eyes drifted shut. As consciousness abandoned him a whisper left his mouth. "'m I a hero, Ma?"

And then everything went dark.

Z è K L è
am i more than you bargained for yet?

image credit

[Gonna make another thread for anyone interested, so we don't muck up this one.]

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

She felt ... things.

A number of them. Jumbled together all at once, and without the proper time and attention to introspect, her feelings remained an incoherent jumble of thoughts and emotions. However through that chaos, the girl knew one thing.

She hated it - even if that meant adding one more feeling, (hate), to the pile. So be it.

Volterra's earth spikes erupted around her - and even though her attention had been on Zero, she new that her darker counterpart was still in the battle. Judging by the cries of the tiger, he was doing quite well (as usual). Briefly, because the girl had dragon's on her mind, her amber gaze searched for the red-winged beast that she knew would be lingering somewhere near - attacking the tiger from a higher angle. Only Verzes wasn't near Volterra - or even necessarily near the tiger. He was ...circling a mare.

Why Her mind naively wondered, and received an instantaneous answer from her guts as they clenched as writhed against the life lesson that she had coming. Ampere's words flickered without sound, impressing their meaning into her skull, through mental images. Companions feel the emotions of their bonded. Verzes was circling a girl. She had a horn. He did not. They are not related. Gears turned, cogs revolved. The picture was coming together - the picture that Isopia's aching soul already saw. Why would he protect her - why does he care if -

The Tiger collapses, and Isopia immediately withdraws her attention and magic. It is then that more feelings reveal themselves.

Her Father - looks to her with a nod. However she is far too stupefied over the emotional turmoil that she is fighting to eradicate to do anything other than blink her large, cold eyes in his direction. Her brain moves to instruct her to ignore Volterra and the horned girl (an instruction her body was already ignoring), but then-


Zero. It was his voice. Immediate recollection chilled her bones as she spun away from own stupid worries, to where Zero was crumbled on the ground.

The blood drained from her ears, her cheeks. Numbly, she stared as her friend screamed out for his Ma. Isopia thought that her heart was incapable of being wounded any farther than her perception of Volterra and Mirabella had already hurt it, until she watched as Zero's vibrant gaze closed. Her chest and lungs blossomed inside of her - ready to scream and cry and breath air into themselves so that she could run to his side, but the coldness of her mind was so much more inviting. She could just stay where it was rational and distant, she could ignore this assault on her emotions and just..

No. Of course she couldn't.

"Zero-" She whispered, rushing to him.


Mentions @Volterra and @Zèklè ]

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Abandon all hope, ye who enter here

Dacianna Posts: 55
Absent Abyss atk: 5.5 | def: 8.5 | dam: 6
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15.1hh :: 4 Y/O HP: 64 | Buff: NOVICE
The world is wide from where you stand
So get out, get out while you still can

It was quite sad really, amidst the clamour and the magic, to see a young child crippled as such. She was as white as snow and pretty, like a fluffy cloud in the blue sky, but clouds weren’t meant for war and neither were children. Dacianna sent her silent prayers to the unknown filly and hoped she had parents somewhere, or at least someone to protect her from the clutches of violence so she didn’t suffer again.

The cries fall and the scrimmage on the archipelago ends.

Dacianna watches as the bits and pieces are given out seemingly at random before the Earth God declares peace and ushers them to return home. Home? Where was that now the darkness had gone? Home had been the plentiful mountains until she had come to despise it, home had been the diseased rift until this elderly dear had pulled her from it and now? Now what? Was this place, Helovia, to be her home? A new kind of lonely pain crept into her heart to accompany the niggling burns on her back. These warriors who had battled so ruthlessly had places to return to and she did not. Her heart yearned for the gentle touch of familiarity, the ease of a comforting routine and the calming knowledge that there was something or someone to go back to. Yet, she had nothing but herself and this strange new land.

Finally, she turns away from the scene and slowly makes tracks for somewhere a little more warming than the aftermath of a battle.

Conclusion for SWP, post continues here! Feel free to drop by. :3
Don't let the curtain catch you, cause you've been here before,
The chair is an island darling, you can't touch the floor
force permitted / please tag me

Dragomir Posts: 275
World's Edge Glazier atk: 6 | def: 9 | dam: 5
Stallion :: Equine :: 17" :: 7 HP: 64.5 | Buff: NOVICE
What had been the screams of the great cat and the warriors who fought her ease now into the moans of the dying, and the sound of those who weep over their fallen figures. It is all a sight of such utter horror, even with the flames extinguished, that for a good while, Dragomir could only shake and look about him, seeking the faces that were known to him to assure they were not among those who lay in pools of their own blood, and watchful of the somber God who surveys the aftermath of the struggle against the Tigress.

His attentions become wholly the Earth’s as the God makes the massive figure of the cat seem to wreath itself in a strange light, dissipating into nothingness, relinquishing the figures of those who had been crushed beneath her bulk.

The stallion looks up with his mouth low and blue eyes wide to the God of the Earth, all the pain of the fire which has licked upon his fetlocks forgotten in the simple bliss that he, of all those who had gathered in this place, has been chosen worthy of such a gift; without a word, he falls to a single knee in praise, caring not what others gathered about think of his pious behavior.

While knelt there in the blood and ash stained island earth, his mind reels. He does not understand – there were others who fought far more valiantly than he, and those who had even healed and helped. All he’d done was stand alongside his friend in a time of great struggle… and such a thought eases the tightening of his chest, the doubt that he deserves such a token from a Goddess, and he rises again to all fours.

No thoughts as to how awful it is to piece out a being of immense power such as the Earth does now cross his mind, and if they did, the man would answer that it was more wasteful to let the great figure of the cat rot away in the wilderness than to use her remains for a noble cause. In a way, he thinks, the Goddess might live on in each of the totems and trinkets given the gathered mortals – and, he is sure, the Earth thinks much the same.

This is the end, says the God, a pulse radiating outwards from him that makes those who hacked, wheezed, and blurrily meandered suddenly seem more vibrant than they had before, the painted stallions own few remaining boils (earned from a certain black and gold mare not far from him, and mostly healed by a kind stranger known as Raeden) most instantaneously healing – though whatever joy is earned from it by those around him, it seems quickly lost on the wounded.

Looking over to Resplendence as the God concludes his words, the stallion glances over at the small white filly that she had helped heal, and he had helped defend, before he again finds his eyes on his rosy friend.

"Will you be helping with the others?" he asks, lowering his muzzle to grab the skull from before his hooves, his teeth clacking on the funny feeling bone (it hums with a magic potent and strong), "I ‘an ‘elph flein’ herbphs."

[ OOC: Or, “I can help find herbs.” xD He has this terrible habit of talking with his mouth full it seems.
^^ Will remain to help Resplendence heal those who need it. ]

Wishlist | Table Tracker  

Any violence/magic is allowed to be used upon Dragomir at anytime, permitting it doesn't kill or seriously maim him without my permission <3
Ascended Helovian

Mauja the Frozen Light Posts: 1,392
Outcast atk: 6.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 7.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.2 :: 14 HP: 79.5 | Buff: HUNTER
Irma :: Snowy Owl :: Terrorize & Diego :: Eurasian Eagle-Owl :: Rage Neo

i am the vanguard of your destruction
And so the tigress falls—another God laid to waste beneath the onslaught of Helovia's mortals, another victim in their divine crusade for expansion.

But who was to blame here, really? Spark and Moon, they had been careless, callous and prideful, arrogant even, and the bear and the wolf had sought to punish them for it. In those battles, the balance had been even. And Sun—Mauja didn't think age had mellowed him, because what was a few mortal years in the span of celestials? But he had tried at least, and Earth had tried even more, but been deceived. Here, as her body was butchered for the glorious defenders, she had chosen her own fate. Had she been afraid at the end? Had she struck out, struggled, because she did not want to die?

Or had she been powered only by her belief in herself, a fundamental inability to accept that she could lose? Regardless of her reasons, she lay dead, her skin dissolved into armor and her bones into weapons thrown to Helovians and Riftians alike. Mauja turned away, disgust upon his face. He didn't want the bloody trinkets cut from her carcass, because what were they, really? Bits of bone and skin imbued with magic as if that could somehow make them forget she had been butchered—like her lost brothers.

He didn't notice the claw cast to him, but Diego did, grasping it. Some day, it would go into Mauja's bag with the amulets and the glowing rock, but for now, it would rest in his talons. Mauja didn't want to stick around, didn't want to watch the world gorge itself on hollow victory and shiny toys—

He wanted to go back to the Edge, but he had someone to find first, and when he did, he started running, and screaming her name.

[ Mauja continues here. ]
angels, they fell first, but I'm still here
Ascended Helovian

Ophelia the Amaranthine Posts: 701
Outcast atk: 6.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 7
Mare :: Hybrid :: 16.0 hh :: 6 Years HP: 77 | Buff: BULK
Tinek :: Royal Silver Dragon :: Frost Breath & Shock Breath Tamme

All of it seemed to happen too slowly, but there was nothing she could do to stop it. The seconds were torture, and she knew... she knew what was going to happen just as her jaws opened up to yell, scream and tell them to get out of the way. Her voice was mush in her head, not able to will her tongue to move faster as she scrambled to her hooves, wanting nothing more than to get to her sister, Sno and Morenth in time.

Her attack had worked too well. She and Morenth were supposed to be a balance, but the culmination of attacks elsewhere and the brunt of her attack must have critically weakened the tigress. What had been just a stab to the leg ended with a crippling blow, and the beast fell to the other side of her own body. The thud and sound of crushing was cruel, a cacophony of pain and noise in her head that set fire to her guilt. "No, no, no, no...." she murmured, running headlong toward the other side. "Dammit, no!"

Ophelia found Morenth, Sno and Ktulu there, and she worked hard to get them free. With a pale shoulder, she laid into the monster, straining as hard as she could to loose them from beneath the weight. The Earth God helped then, freeing those trapped beneath by sending the body into pieces, and she stumbled, not giving a single shit about the Earth God now. He could have done something... right? Surely this couldn't all be her fault. Please... let it not be all her fault.

Concerned eyes swept over her sister and Morenth, and she nuzzled her sister close. "Are you all right?" she demanded, eyes burning with regret and passion. "Are you going to be all right"? Ophelia then moved to Morenth, frowning, apology written all over her features. "I didn't mean... I thought..." she trailed, shaking her head as she struggled to find words to match the depth of her apology. "I am so sorry. I will find a healer, okay? I will..." she said, looking out upon the battle field.

Only, she didn't know who the healers were. Archibald yelled in mental space, and she looked over, seeing Sno and Roskuld there. Roskuld was worse for the wear, but Sno...

Please let this not be her fault...

Faith shattered and decays as frosted blood flows in my veins

sdrcow @ DA

@Ktulu @Morenth

Undertow has come to take me. Guided by the blazing sun. Look at everything around us. Look at everything we've done.
Please. Anyone. I don't think I can save myself. I'm drowning.

Please tag me in every response!

Aithniel the Inquisitor Posts: 169
Outcast atk: 6.5 | def: 9.0 | dam: 4.0
Mare :: Tribrid :: 15.0hh :: 4 Years HP: 75 | Buff: NOVICE
Zerachiel :: Royal Griffin :: Molten Dagger tamme
Fire crashed into the side of the tigress as she flew, watching below as the monster fell, choking on water from Isopia. She had killed the beast and then trapped others beneath her body. Aithniel felt nothing but anger at seeing the pain and destruction. There was sadness. Roskuld was crying over the corpse of of a princess. Some of her own herd had fallen. Others were barely making it out alive, and she narrowed her focus onto the God of the Earth. None of the other battles had ended this violently - had cause this much heartache.

Didn't he have magical powers of healing? Wasn't loving his mortals his 'deal'? Then why? Why all of this? Be at peace, really? Tears would forever stain this land along with their blood, and he wanted them to be at peace? Her body was healed of disease then, but that did nothing to change her mind. She glared hard from her place in the sky, still burning, flames licking at her hide. Aithniel landed hard and stared as spoils were given out while everyone else was hurt and losing someone.

Fuck. This.

She turned her back to the Earth God and the pain around her, and she left. There was nothing for her here. No tears were left in her eyes to cry. Only fire remained, consuming rational thought with action and passion. Aithniel had an egg waiting for her up north, and that was what she was going to focus on - one good thing in the wake of this disaster. And was it worth it? Was this new land truly worth the pain on both sides? She didn't think so. With a shove her her hooves, she flew out from the island, leaving wailing fathers and apologetic sisters behind.

Her condolences would mean nothing. No one there gave a damn what she thought, and why should they? Roskuld hated her, and she was the only one she really knew.

Image Credit

But burn down our home
I won't leave alive

Please tag me in everything!

Nephele Posts: 82
Dragon's Throat Guardian atk: 4.5 | def: 8.5 | dam: 7.5
Mare :: Pegasus :: 16.3 :: 7 HP: 64.0 | Buff: NOVICE
Atreus :: Lammergeier :: None Nova

The last banshee cries of the mighty tigeress fall on flattened ears, having been pressed to chiseled skull when the sound of bones crunching and taste of fur and blood invaded her senses. Pressed shut against the bones and sinew giving way to the relentless waves crashing against the falling mountain.

Victory was as bitter as the taste of acrid fur and the cost was too much to think about, all around her there were injured Helovian's, some came away with mere scrapes and bruises that mottled their velvet hides with deep marks and dried blood while even more paid a heftier price. Bones had been broken, flesh had been rendered with fury made fire and the land laid bare beneath their hooves — lush grass now lay in ashen patches while deep indents whispered the tale that had just transpired.

This stretch of land was not worth the cost, and Father Earth's words rang hollow.
Nephele watched the prizes being given out, nostrils still flaring and chest rumbling deep in an attempt to rein in her breathing, muscles rippling under her sweat slickened pelt. It was customary, she assumed, that the Goddess was recycled and given a new life to those whom the God deemed deserving the most.

'It is not my place to question the Gods' she repeated herself silently, but a quieter voice whispered 'What gifts were there to give for those who lost the most? Where were the words of comfort to those that grieved?'

No longer willing to watch, she turned and began in a steady walk through the bodies — some seemed to flit away on spread wings, no longer willing to linger another moment on descecrated ground, others disappeared into the thick trees to seek solace but many were running and screaming to find those lost on the battlefield. Over taxed wing hanging loosely to allow it time to recover, ice and gold searched for familiar faces in need of help. My duty is done, she affirmed to herself, she had defended her homeland and her herd.

It was time to find her herd, and return to the desert sands and their heated embrace.

May the desert wash away the pain. May it's sun bathe aching muscles free of strain, may it bathe the tender of heart and the most grieved soul free of ire and sorrow.


Notes;; summaries & comments go here

"talking talking talking"

ashes call my name

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“She was beautiful, but she was beautiful in the way a forest fire was beautiful: something to be admired from a distance, not up close.” 

― Terry Pratchett
Please tag Neph in all replies!
Force & violence permitted with the exception of maiming & death

Volterra the Indomitable Posts: 785
Dragon's Throat Sultan atk: 8.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 8.5
Stallion :: Equine :: 17'2hh :: 3 HP: 80 | Buff: SENSE
Vérzés :: Common Red Dragon :: Frost Breath & Toxic Breath & Vadir :: Royal Gold Dragon :: Fire Breath & Shock Breath Snow

Oh, how the Goddess screams as the beast's earthen spike gouges her like a sword! How his breast bubbles with smug satisfaction as she falls, horrendously injured, to feed the worms in the ground! The titan's neck arches, pride radiating from him at his massive part played in felling yet another God. The shaking ground momentarily unbalances him and he crunches to his knees, skinning them, but quickly returns to all fours with barely a glance cast down at his now bleeding front limbs. The red dragon, having helped protect the horned filly, circles and returns to his master, landing heavily on the black's scarred quarters and nestling down with a pleased hiss and a flick of his spiked tail. Volterra doesn't quite know what possessed the crimson to help the young mare, when her only worth to him is how he can indulge his carnal lusts in her, yet he does not complain. She is alive, which means their little deal can continue.

His gaze travels to Isopia, who had landed the killing blow. He wonders how she feels about this; does it fit with the balance of the earth? He begins to move towards her, not realising she'd seen Vérzés protect Mirabella and read into it, not considering how she may react...closer he gets, congratulations bubbling onto his lips, when suddenly she turns to attend to the one-winged colt from earlier, who seems badly injured. Jealousy flares like a wildfire in the young stallion's chest, and he flattens his ears angrily for a moment. Who the hell is that boy to her? Friend, or - and oh, how the beast in him foams at the mouth at this notion - lover?

With his masculine pride momentarily wounded, the monolith turns back to the Earth God. His anger will soon pass - his volcanic temper always flares quickly then fades back down, and this will be no different. Isopia means too much to him for his sudden irritation at her to last. He is soon distracted from his tumlultuous thoughts by the giving out of the dead tiger's corpse. Again, Volterra misses out on most of the decent equipment as it is given instead to lessers, but a razor-sharp tiger's claw is flung towards him. His dragon immediately seizes it and tucks it in the stallion's mane along with the bear god's tooth, and the titan's mind flashes across all the uses he can come up with for such prizes.

With the fight at an end and the gifts dished out, the behemoth has little reason to remain. He nods to the Earth God, then turns to begin the long swim back to the mainland. ""

image credits

[ you can't stray from what you are, you're the closest thing to hell i've seen so far  ]
[ use of force/magic on him is permitted aside from death/maiming ]

Erthë Posts: 440
Outcast atk: 5.5 | def: 8.5 | dam: 5.5
Filly :: Hybrid :: 14,2 hh :: 3 years HP: 64.5 | Buff: NOVICE
E r t h ë
"And now I wish to God that The earth would turn cold
And my heart would forget it's made of glass"

Pain. It gnawed at her sanity, gnashing and clawing away whatever courage or determination that had brought the child into this battle. The effect of herbs and healing magic only served to numb it, keep it at bay, but didn't drive it off. The slightest of movements let her feel how bone fragments scraped against bone, muscle, tendons and ligaments within the leg, like rocks upon a beach ground against one another by the onslaught of waves. Erthë wanted to cry, but though her heart ached and her throat clenched tightly, no tears would rise to moisten the eyes.

For once, she would have welcomed them. It would have been a blessing to have her vision blurred by salty droplets, so that she would not have to witness the slaughter that took place before her. Was the slaying of a god supposed to be something this violent, this foul? Oh, she knew it had to be done and though she didn't know him, she knew the anger and disappointment that had colored the Earth God's voice. Something had gone wrong, betrayal and deceit had been the prelude to this requiem - and the result was death, destruction, blood spilled upon land that should have been untainted and holy.

She wanted to weep for the Tigress who fought so valiantly, even though her promises had been false, for all those who lay broken and bleeding, dying. She really, really wanted to cry.

But no tears would come.

And then, with a final surge of water, as steady and relentlessly methodical as Isopia herself, it ended. The Tiger Goddess lay dead upon the ground, and in the sudden silence the cries of the wounded sounded even louder. The scent of blood and smoke was thick in the air, fires smoldered in the grasses still, and the scent made her nauseous.

Coughing, choking on grief and memories the child reached for her father, longing to feel his comforting nose against her cheek again.

"Daddy!" she whimpered. Weakly. Softly. Sadly. "Daddy I want to go home. Can we please go home now?"

She wanted to hide away in that dark, mist-veiled forest, wanted to get away from concerned eyes and worried frowns, from the sadness in uncle Badger's face and the half remembered words of a mare she didn't know. A stallion she almost knew was crying over his daughter's body and the sound of his grief was like a knife in her own wounds, opening up scabs that had barely begun to heal. Could she do something for him, to ease his pain and loneliness?

But she only had words, and what good would that do when ones heart was bleeding out?

Slowly, painfully, the filly began to rise. She was battered and bruised, her body broken and the mind numb. Standing was almost more than she could manage, and how she would get back across the sea was more than she wanted to think about.

"Can someone fetch me my bow, please?" she asked, pleading the healers that had been crowding around her. In the tumult she had failed to thank the Earth God for saving her, but she found that she couldn't bring herself to care too much. Maybe she could find him later and say it then - maybe her gratitude didn't matter to someone so eternal.

Either way, there was nothing she could do now but go home, rest and recover - if it was even possible.

"And all the pretty tulips would disappear
And never disturb me again"


~| Use of magic and violence is always permitted |~
~| Please only tag in opening posts |~

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

This is the end, the words of this voice struck as lighting; gone in a second. A wash of mixed emotions rolled over her in a careless, nonchalant caress. One that gave her the chills. Happiness, confusion, anger… But her thoughts were only this: That doesn’t mean anything anymore. For it didn’t, and that could not be how it was for her alone. Maren turned her gaze away from Beest to peek through her veil of mist that had hidden them away. It felt like ripping open a stainless white silken cloth, or like that time she had thrown the golden feather-chain she had gotten from her mother in the lake; she regretted it, but she had no choice. Before her eyes grew the scene of blood and despair. She swallowed it all, for at least it was overFor now… because there was that paranoia that had started to grow on her; that traumatic fume she had started to inhale ever since there had been a battle after a battle. Ever since it began, there had always been a next one.

She barely heard Beest’ words as she woke herself from her doom-staring, and let her eyes find his again. They were pale and empty; but she wouldn’t have it any other way right now: They were comforting. Pearls with blurred reflections that held no meaning or expectations.

Her breathing was a bit… chunky. In her normally so silent eyes a scratch of panic fell through. It took too long for her to answer, but finally she did. “Good —That you are alright.” At least they were. That was... well, good; enough? Why was her heart beating so disorderly then. Yet, his voice calmed her in a way that only good memories could. So she exhaled her stress and turned her back to what was happening there. She shouldn’t care (but she did).

What’s going on, he asked, because that was the question she had expected... and feared. Maren simply looked at him, attempting to search for a good sentence that must be hidden somewhere in her mind. And yet she couldn’t find it; something that wasn’t quite like her and he would know. “Let’s meet up later. Get to the shore. If you want, I’ll get you back to land.” Her words were hasty and coated with panic —maybe because she was used letting herself go in front of him. But right now his power of comfort was her weakness and she couldn't let him, or at least not  yet.

Voices in her head screamed, loaded guns she didn’t knew existed. Her mind had always been a nice place; a peaceful melody about a mysterious garden with a cherry oak tree hidden in the middle. It had turned to this battlefield now with no cherry oak in sight. Just take him and go, leave this island and this chaos that holds no good memories for you. And yet, she couldn’t. There were others. She wasn’t alone anymore. Not like she was in the past with Beest. “Wait for me there. I think there might be others who need my help getting home.”

And then she was gone; leaving her mists as long as she could. Maybe in the hopes of protecting him, as long as possible, for whatever danger that could still be lurking (or maybe because she didn’t want him to see what place Helovia had turned out to be).

She spotted a dark-bay pegasus mare she knew was from the throat, as she had seen her in their meeting, but her name had been lost to her. “Hey, are you hurt? Need a ride back?”

Puddles of tar still remained and she avoided them as she wandered to her other family members. She spotted Zero, the foal that she had met the time she found her boat, and noticed he was already unconscious. Moving him was perhaps not a good idea, if he was still even alive. “Tell me when he wakes up, I can help him get back to the Throat in my boat,” she told Isopia in a soft voice, the one watching over him (daughter of the Earth). But she couldn’t do more for him, not now; not for anyone.

(So from there on she moved to others, offering her help to guide them back to land, in case they could swim nor fly back home, for the Earth might tell them it was the end, but it wasn’t.)

Also for anyone who wants a logical way for their hurt characters to get back to shore <3


image credits

@Beest @Zeklè @Nephele
Please tag me 

Tembovu the Elephant Posts: 805
World's Edge Captain atk: 7 | def: 9.0 | dam: 7.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 18hh :: 10 HP: 77 | Buff: SWIFT
Mbwene :: African Elephant :: Ashen smitty
The sharp edges of his horn meet their mark. It sinks into the tigress’s open flesh, ripping and tearing, exposing organs.

But he pays it no mind. He is watching the field, ensuring Nyx continues to stay out the fray. And Rexanna— where was that blasted woman? He pulls his horn from the living flesh, blood spiraling down its thick length as he takes his gaze from the feline goddess to scan the field—


He couldn’t breathe. He was pinned beneath the mighty paw of the tiger, his gargantuan form seemingly small beneath the giant claws. Agony ripped through his chest as the broken rib collapses against his lungs beneath the crushing weight of the paw. It forces an abrupt bellow from his chest, four streaks of blood erupting from his thick hide, stretching from his shoulder to mid-barrel.

The goddess releases him, attacked by another Helovian, and blessed breath rushes into his lungs. Gasping, he scrambles to his hooves, thick columns of legs barely avoiding the burning tar rampant on the field. When he finally regains his legs, the goddess has fallen. Her death is anticlimactic and resolute— drowning in the very water she governed so cruelly.

Cold, hard, blue eyes watch the god fall while thick ears listen to the Earth God speak. Again gifts are given, magic bestowed. But at what cost? All around him was death and loss. To gain what? There was no reason, no justice here. He had been loyal to this movement, this cause of fighting these corrupt gods. But he problem with being loyal to a cause is that it will take everything from you— then betray and leave you. This realization rocked him.

It shook him to his core.

His inner life revelations were shattered as the earth erupted with screams and cries. A voice so familiar… His eyes immediately swept to his King, body drawn to the primal noises. He wanted to find Rexanna, but he needed to join his friend.
Only the dead have seen the end of war.
credits | table by Neo

Please tag Tembovu.

Morenth Posts: N/A
:: :: ::



Out of the corner of his vision Morenth could see the white flash of Ophelia as she skirted around to the Goddesses opposite side just as his hooves hit flesh, hard and fast. A small flash of a smile skipped over his lips at his own triumph, though it was short lived. It took him but a moment to realize that the tigress barely shifted under his weight, stumbling as if she could no longer hold herself up and instead of falling away from him, he noticed, in silent horror, the smile falling from his lips, that she moved towards him. Morenth felt his mouth open but whatever sound he was going to make, whatever it was he was about to say didn't make it past his throat. The momentum that drove his hooves into the tigress now worked against him, pushing him backwards, tipping him off balance so he landed on his side, flat on the ground as the tiger's body followed.

With a thwomp the air whooshed out of his lungs. Like an old tree cracking under the pressure of a storm, the tiger fell, straight onto him and onto the two others who were unfortunate enough to be attacking her the same time as him. There was a sickening crack that reverberated through his entire body and a constricting pain shot through his side. Morenth winced, not able to moan or cry out in pain for the air in his lungs was gone and refused to come back. Dirt and stone crushed against his opposite side but all he could focus on was the fact that he couldn't breath. No matter how he strived for it, the oxygen would not come. Not with the crushing weight of the tigress that pinned him uselessly to the ground.

He moaned or tried to, clenching his eyes shut as black dots began to appear over his vision. It felt like a life time before the weight was finally lifted and he became aware of voices all around him. The air rushed back to him and he greedily filled his lungs before realizing what a mistake that was. Piercing pain shot through his side and this time he did groan, clenching his teeth as he waited for it to pass. Cries of alarm, triumph and pain circulated the space around them. He became aware of a voice calling out, but it took him a moment before he opened his eyes. Each intake of breath was painful. He couldn't even imagine getting up, except he grew aware of a white face peering at him. She was muttering something, an apologetic expression made him frown. "I-I'm fine," he said, rolling onto his stomach in the hopes that it would ease whatever it was she was distressed about. Only the movement sent the sharp pains riveting through this body and he winced, trying on to groan. "I'll be fine." He muttered again, with a weary shake of his head.




Naerys Posts: 86
World's Edge Sleuth atk: 7 | def: 10 | dam: 4
Mare :: Pegasus :: 16.1 :: 3 :: Tallsun HP: 65.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Petyr :: Bornean Green Magpie :: Ashen Rottie

She descends on the tigress, plunging towards her spine with every intent of raining death from above. She is so focused, so intent that she hardly notices the stallion joining her at her side. She doesn't know him, doesn't know his intentions or that he was there to protect her for reasons she'd likely never know. Her hooves hit the striped hide with a soft, dissatisfying thud but before she could even feel any amount of disappointment, the tigress starts to buckle and fall beneath her. In a last ditch effort she pushes off in an attempt to get away from the falling beast but the force of her shove is weakened by the collapsing form and she fumbles, falling shoulder first into another fighter. A grunt of sorts escapes the girl's lips on impact and she tries desperately to not wince as pain radiates from her shoulder all the way down her limb. That's going to leave a bruise. Somehow, she manages to remain upright and once her hooves are firmly planted on the blood and tar soaked ground, she turns her teal gaze towards the mare she'd collided with. "I'm sorry." she offers genuinely, her voice soft. She hadn't mean to crash into anyone else. Hadn't meant to deliver harm to anyone except the tigress. She is young, untrained, and brash.

Acting purely on emotion.

The tigress has fallen and though she sensed the victory, she couldn't bring herself to feel any triumph, any joy. Just like that the storm is gone, leaving behind a charged silence that does little to distract her from the sharp, hot pain on her back legs up to her hocks. Disappointed, the girl groans. She'd been hurt again. The girl turns her head in a feeble attempt to inspect the damage but all she can see is the tar. Great, just great. Gingerly, she steps forward in an attempt to move herself away from the heart of the bloodshed. The Earth God's voice pulls on her attention for the briefest of moments but he doesn't hold her long. Once again, prizes were passed out to those deemed worthy and once more was she left with nothing at her hooves. But this time she didn't care.

This time she heard a familiar voice crying out.


She finds him with her gaze, beside a broken body lying in a pool of blood and she wants to rush to him. She wants to soothe him, to hold him. But her wounded legs don't let her run and her tired wings don't let her soar. She starts towards him anyway; slow, steady, and hesitant. Hesitant because what could she possibly do or say? What could be helpful? What use was she? So she pauses, teal eyes watching as three others move to his side and suddenly she feels awkward. Like a creeper, peeking through the window of a funeral. She averts her gaze, turns, and moves slowly back towards her mother. She returns to the black and white pegasus with her wings folded and her head lowered. Splattered in blood and tar, she's a bruised and battered mess - wounded beyond the standard childhood injuries.

And none of it really matters when all she really wants to do is hold Mauja.

Image Credits

Mentions: @Ilios, @Zenobia, @Mauja, and @Alysanne


[Image: 2PHncqI.gif]

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

Badger Posts: 68
Hidden Account atk: 4 | def: 8 | dam: 6.5
Gelding :: Equine :: 15'2hh :: 10 HP: 62 | Buff: NOVICE
The other equine mare speaks to me, and I look at her with hard determination in my normally soft eyes. "I have to try," I hiss, my voice frenzied. "She's so damn young - she didn't choose this. She doesn't deserve this. Nobody with blood in their heart and one hint of humanity in their soul could possibly stand by and watch this poor girl suffer without trying to help her." I'm frantic, almost insane with it. I don't care if this seems stupid and futile, I have to exhaust everything in my arsenal.

On the battlefield, I'm always quick to admit defeat. In this, I cannot.

Then the girl's father arrives, and I cringe. Whaetever I'm feeling, he must be feeling tenfold. At the question, I wince. How bad? There is little use in lying to him when the truth is so painfully obvious. "It's hard to say at this stage, but...the bone isn't just broken, it's shattered. I don't know if there's anything that can fix it, not even magic." I look to the Earth God, the great, benevolent behemoth. He is omnipotent, surely he can help her? Why isn't he helping her? I feel anger rise up inside my usually calm soul, driven by the terror at the possibility of losing Erthe. My own magic seems not to help, although I pray it has lessened her pain. She may be doomed to an eternal limp or a horrific developmental stunting, but please, Gods, let her not be in pain.

Erthe tries to stand and I whinny, alarmed. "No, little one, stay where you are." Gods know what further damage she will do by trying to rise. She asks if somebody can fetch her bow, and although I am loathe to leave her side, I want to do anything I can to help her. If her bow makes her feel better...I move towards where the magical item landed, and as I do I see Maren, a herdmate, with a...boat? My eyes light up and I immediately move to her. "Excuse me, Miss Diviner, would I be able to borrow your vessel to get this girl back to safety?" I look at her through pleading, panicy eyes, praying she will not reject me. She is a fellow Throatian and I think she has a good heart, will that be enough?

Hoping she will take her boat to Erthe to help the filly get off the island, I continue towards the bow. I'm limping myself, and my legs hurt from their strain, but it hardly registers in my fear-riddled mind. I see the enchanted bow, and scrutinise it for a moment to try and work out how to carry it. It is a weapon, and I shrivel my nose in disgust that someone as young as Erthe should be wielding it, but if it helps her...I pick it up as delicately as I can between my teeth, and begin to head back to her with my head held high so it doesn't drag on the ground. I deposit it next to the filly and continue to stand by her, praying Maren will have brought her boat closer so myself and the other healers can load the white angel into it.

@Vadim @Erthë @Maren @Resplendence

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

He came to her as she walked over the field; "Excuse me, Miss Diviner, would I be able to borrow your vessel to get this girl back to safety?"

Her eyes shot to the now colorful blob of white that she had past in a blur all this sickening time. She swallowed whatever she had left to wish for as her thoughts swarmed her mind like bees the one time she just wanted her mind to be an empty shell.

From the distance that she watched the terrors and chaos she saw a white puff being thrown around and she could only wish that wasn’t Ërthe —

No figment of quivering hope that dared to crawl into her head was safe for this blast of slaughtering redemption. There was no way out, so she simply let her gaze wander back to Badger’s concerned brown eyes. She coughed, her throat dry. For a moment she was silent, lips glued together while cold eyes looked at him, her mind too busy to really look. And yet, somehow, at last there were words. “Are you kidding me?” she huffed, pretending to be flabbergasted by his arrogance.  “Have you ever even been in a boat before? Tch, you are out of your mind if—” She gasped for the air she forgot to breath in. What was it that she really wanted to say? This? Aren’t you afraid you are going to capsize because of your clumsy ignorance and take her and my boat along with you? “Don’t ask me to just borrow my precious—” Frustration, anger, hopelessness; she felt like it was all just being spit out of her mouth instead of the words she meant to say. She swallowed it along with the thought of Shadow seeing her daughter in the dangerous state she was in, for even she didn’t want… couldn’t bear to see Ërthe like this. But she glanced over her once again, still, and then looked back at Badger. “Do I look like I have no soul to you?” she huffed again.I’ll take her to land, so don’t worry. I would appreciate it if you double-checked that she is okay enough to move. I will be waiting in the north-east area.” With that she turned around and left for the beach.

Her eyes found the horizon, all of a sudden so undeserved of its beauty. There was a commotion a bit away from her and her stupid head turned around to see. She saw Ophelia, Mauja and Roskuld… and others she didn’t know, shouting, crying over a dead body with little burned fireflies on her coat; a pattern she had come to know. She turned her golden gaze away from them as there grew a blur over her eyes. Why did she felt so defeated? Why did it feel like she lost so much and why couldn’t she just believe that what the Gods… What she had trusted the Gods with was actually... good? Everything that was in her view turned to a smudge. She found the chain on the front with her whiskers before she saw it through her obscured vision. Meanwhile soundless tears slipped down her alabaster cheeks as she gripped the chain and tried to get is as far on the beach as she could.

But where she couldn’t go no more through the thick sand, the world just went on… and on… and on —And she continued to be worthless, just like everyone else here. And suddenly she wished she could’ve told Ërthe something else, that day in the Green Labyrinth. Wished she could’ve told Ërthe that every being in this realm was special, had a purpose, was of great value to the Gods because without them there was no world. But that wasn’t the truth. That wasn’t what the world was meant for; it wasn’t to give them a place to be special, for it just was to be... and then die if you couldn't be any longer.


image credits

@Ërthe, @Badger (feel free to pp them leaving or something. Maren can bring her all the way to the Edge via the river)

mentioned: Ophelia, Mauja and Roskuld (and Snö)
Please tag me 

Aquila Posts: 95
Outcast atk: 5 | def: 9 | dam: 5.5
Mare :: Hybrid :: 16.2 :: 6 HP: 62 | Buff: NOVICE
Craonos :: Common Narwhal Leviathan :: Boil smitty
Her teeth do not meet the artery that rushes with blood, and she snarls her rage. Her forelimbs extend, reaching for the earth as she falls from her failed attack. Webbed hooves jar against the ground— so much harsher than her mother, the sea. Shock jolts through her forelimbs and a sharp pain splits her right, webbed hoof.

Sharp teeth grit and bare, though she still spins to watch the fall of the goddess. Proudly she wears the burning godsblood on her horn. Overlarge eyes burn with cold fire as she sees the Tigress writhe and fall. Yes, this was right. Vindication roars in her ears, drowning the clamor and screams around her. The death of the goddess flashes, disappearing.

Blue blood stains the water, the earth. Screams flood her ears once more, but they are familiar voices, now. The fires reignite, burning the very waters they call home—

She paws her hoof, sending a spray of water and an agonizing pain through her right forelimb. But at least the Tigress is again in her vision, though the Earth God makes her melt away. There are moans and cries, but they are the end of battle noises. Not the sounds from the midst of massacre.

She glances around, ears tilting backwards. Yes, there is chaos around them now. But it is safe chaos. One cannot understand such a thing until you’ve lived in such a place as the Rift.

Ignoring the pain in her legs, she struck out towards this new ‘Helovia.’ Gracefully she disappears beneath the water, relishing the cool quietness that envelopes her. Though she did not find peace there, she found comfort in the familiarity beneath the sea.
"... in a single day and night of misfortune, the island of Atlantis disappeared into the depths of the sea."

Please tag Aquila in all posts.

Imonada Posts: 61
Hidden Account atk: 6 | def: 8.5 | dam: 3
Mare :: Pegasus :: 14.1hh :: 3 (Frostfall) HP: 58 | Buff: NOVICE

The final wretched scream that brutally explodes from the tigress blood it sounds like blood like she tore her throat just screaming and screaming and is like a steel needle shoved through Imonada's eardrums; she swears they burst because an artillery shell goes off in her skull boom there goes the brain lights out. Her head needs a good violent shake afterwards, but she quickly overcomes the daze. Thank the gods for small mercies, her almost machine-like ability to compartmentalize and assign priority to emotions having kept her alive thus far... even if that wasn't always reliable, often forcing her to grapple with her fear or hatred or sadness, forcing them into submission, so that she may remain useful; because nothing struck such existential terror into her like not being needed. Wanted. To even humor such a thought was like a reeling out of control and plunging into paralyzing bleakness while the means to process it were left unearthed in their grave.

She remains back as the final blows rip the goddess apart, the severing of her lifeforce felt harshly; somewhere in all that rotted power was remnants of the divine, fossil imprints from another time. When Earth casts the shredded body into nothingness with his magic, Imonada looks over at Erthë and assesses her; upon seeing that she has taken the herbs, she feels it permissible to take her assisting energies elsewhere, especially as several others more equipped were now tending to the crippled filly. Grabbing more medicine in one fell swoop, deliberately inhaling its tangy and pungent odor to mask the acrid stink of charred flesh and rivers of oil, she heads off to visit others teetering at the edge of consciousness. Careful navigation and a light, sturdy frame help her avoid the receding tar and any remaining flame patches. Each wounded she attends to gets a pile sufficient enough to stir them and her own brand of patience to confirm they swallow enough, as she ponders what it really means now that matter has broken down and merged two realms, even if for a finite window of time. The demon gods may have been slain and their diseases wiped clean, but she was watching the black gore seep into the sand. Was it really over? "Something there is that doesn't love a wall," she grumbles like a bitter old cat, heading off to find Resplendence again. Hopefully they could gather all their herdmates easily.

The sound of Mauja's gut-wrenching sobs reach her from behind a swaddle of thick wool, her head sinking down into dark cold depths as blood rushes back into her extremities and leaves in its wake a deep seated tiredness. She registers the mourning dimly and the pain in his cries makes her stomach burn with the vague threat of retching, but she says nothing, and remains upon the scene to help, despite her desire to crawl into a hole and sleep forever.

Pixel template base by BronzeHalo

elizabeth: you're not telling us everything.
red: let me put your mind at ease; i'm never telling you everything.

force allowed
plotting prior to death/maiming please

[Image: a0jmns.png]
line art by jennyleigh

Galiel Posts: 22
Hidden Account
Filly :: Pegasus :: 16.0 :: 1

Chaos. Everything was just falling to shambles. A person dove here, another shot out fire, another used water to drown the monster. Even the boy that I had hoped to help was using a magic as he ran. But despite the chaos and my obvious frantic state, I threw myself into the danger versus running away. Perhaps it was out of my own stupidity. Or perhaps it was because deep down inside I didn’t care if I lived or died.

One thing was for sure though: this was a very stupid idea.

Despite actually managing to bite the monster’s tail, it seemed as though it had little to no effect on the beast. The boy eventually fell and falling along with him was some golem creature that spewed out lightning everywhere.

My heart skipped a beat.

Flashes of watching a tree set aflame by a single bolt and watching Areli writhe in pain from the Nyx lady’s lightning shield thing flew before my eyes as I saw the lightning draw closer to me. Then my ears shifted as I heard my name called out across the field. Tiamat. She had asked for me to stay and I hadn’t.

I’m sorry.

Blue eyes lock with those of Tiamat’s – full of apologetic looks. I prayed that she would forgive me. I prayed that I would make it out alright. I prayed that everybody would be safe. And I prayed all of this chaos would end soon and bring peace.

Then I felt it hit me.

It…it was like hot fire had been cast upon my body only along with the fire every one of my muscles contracted and loosened with my body. Every spasm happened at such a rapid fire pace that my legs soon gave out under the stress.

And I was falling.

Would I die? Would I remember what had transpired before this? Would I even be the same? Questions filled my mind for mere seconds before I let them prey victim to other thoughts. Thoughts of me saying goodbye to everyone I had ever met. Goodbye spotted stallion. Goodbye Areli. Goodbye Tiamat. Goodbye world. Then my body hit the ground and everything went black.

Death was a weird thing, or at least I thought it was. That is until I realized I wasn’t actually dead. Some time must have passed while I was out because mostly everything was quiet now. In the distance, I could hear some deep voiced stallion saying that it was over and to return to our herds.

But what if we didn’t belong to a herd?

Then shortly after I could hear wailing in the distance and although I couldn’t see yet because I wasn’t fully awake, I could have almost sworn it sounded like the spotted stallion. I wonder what happened to him? The question rumbled through my head as I tried to move my legs to get up. The back legs moved fine, but my front ones stung with a soreness that caused me to pause. Then cue the raging headache. A moan escaped my lips as I tried my best to wake up fully. Surely Tiamat was worriedly hovering over me already, hoping that I was alive. Perhaps I should try to say something to her?

“Tia-,” I choke out hoarsely and softly hoping that Tiamat is nearby. I force a few dry swallows before I try again, “I…I’m sorry.”

notes:: Gali get's shocked by Zero's golem's wild electricity. No actual visible harm on the outside, but she will have painful muscle spasms for a while and sometimes her legs will twitch on her and mess up her footing if she is moving. This will probably last a few threads. Then after getting electrocuted she blacks out after falling to the ground and regains consciousness after the battle finishes. She then tries to apologize to @Tiamat for not listening to her.

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