the Rift


iron-clad freedoms

Cera the Golden Prince Posts: 419
Outcast atk: 5.5 | def: 9.5 | dam: 4.5
Stallion :: Pegasus :: 16.3hh :: 6 Years HP: 65 | Buff: NOVICE
Ilaria :: Red Panda :: Heal Brit
#1

Cera
I'm an angel with a shotgun, fighting till the war's won, and I don't care if heaven won't take me back



Have more equines joined the Throat? Ilaria noted idly from his withers, her paws playing with the long white strands of Cera's mane, braiding them in a beautiful fishnet down across his right shoulder. She'd improved over the seasons, with little to do on patrols but play with what little she could access from his body. Cera hummed softly in his throat without formed comment, tail swishing against his hocks as he strode across the sands. Ampere's meeting had left him with a task that Megaera had echoed, and finally he'd been supplied the numbers he needed. The crafters had not been collected in one spot for quite some time, and Cera was a bit disgruntled with their meager - or entirely absent - measures. His completed well stood as a forlorn, biter reminder of the times when Cera had taken the brunt of the Throat's necessities upon his shoulders. Still, he was eager to collect his flock, guide them down the path of learning, and simultaneously aid their people. If a singular soul was capable of being called a flock, he thought, a wave of disappointment cresting in his heart. 

He was near the magnolia, having been informed that Sacra was nowhere to be found, which left only Ranjiri on his list to gather. Not a difficult task, considering they slumbered together nightly beneath the magnolia that Midas had reared Cera beneath. Gold struck across his skin, catching emerald eyes and scarred skin and boyish smile. It would temper in time as his sister arrived, for he was the head Forger, and he could not always let their official meetings take on too heavy a measure of informality. He was a master of his craft, even with his inherent humility regarding the subject, and he was eager to see her progress from the standpoint of his own hard-won practicing and successes. As his sister, Cera had been overjoyed to find out she was interested in metal work. 

"Ranjiri?" He called in the direction of the magnolia, wondering if she was back from her patrol yet. 

It bellowed over the sands with impressive reach, wings folding and tucking against his sides, his frail frame accentuated by their span as the pale primaries kissed the sands. He waited for them to gather, cocking a hip and idly letting his magic unfurl like tendrils of warmth into the ground below. Finding the metal deposits, feeling out their edges and abundances. There would be no need for fire with the inherent magic of the sun and how small the keys were, Ranjiri would be just fine. But where had Sacre disappeared to? Cera's ranks had already been small to begin with, and he felt the loss acutely. Was nobody interested in the craft he so adored?



Crafter meeting! Even though only Ranjiri is an artisan...


@Ranjiri and anyone else who's interested! Please we need more interested crafters ;___;
Please only tag starting posts, spars, and threads collecting dust!

Ranjiri the GoldenShade Posts: 372
World's Edge Mare atk: 4.5 | def: 8.5 | dam: 6
Mare :: Hybrid :: 16.0 :: 5 HP: 62 | Buff: NOVICE
Mara :: Common Rougarou :: Shadow ali
#2

give me hope in the darkness
so that I will see the light



I couldn't find Dragomir no matter where I looked and I guess I shouldn't have been as worried as I was, but I didn't usually go so long without seeing him. He'd seemed fine after the battle on the island, but I hadn't checked in with him before I left and I beat myself up over that a few times because what if he'd been hurt? What if he thought I just left him behind? I hadn't been able to find him no matter where I looked and he hadn't come looking for me and I worried that I had made him mad at me by leaving the island so quickly. I had even shirked my patrol in favor of searching for my friend, which was terrible of me because I should have been more worried about the Throat than Dragomir, but the butterflies in my stomach when I thought about him were relentless and made me want to find him.

"Ranjiri?"

Somehow, in my wandering, I'd ended up near the magnolia where I had slept beside Cera for the longest time. The last time I'd stood in that particular place had been when he had forced me to tell him why I'd been avoiding him after dad's death. It was here that I'd tried to run away and he stopped me. It was here that I'd attacked him, I'd drawn blood, I'd hurt him more than I ever could have imagined. That one incident had ruined the magnolia for me. It no longer felt warm and comfortable and inviting. It was just a reminder of how bad a sister I had been and continued to be, but I could make up for it, right? I could be better, couldn't I? (How could I be a better sister when I was still more worried about Drago than my own brother?)

"Cera?" I called back to him before I lost my nerve and ran away again, because I seemed to be so good at running away from my brother. I clutched my wings tight against my sides and as I walked toward him I couldn't help but note how happy he looked. It was strange (but not unpleasant) because the last two times I'd seen him he'd been a mess (and I probably hadn't looked much better). "You called for me?"

"."

Image Credit

@Cera

aud pixel!

Cera the Golden Prince Posts: 419
Outcast atk: 5.5 | def: 9.5 | dam: 4.5
Stallion :: Pegasus :: 16.3hh :: 6 Years HP: 65 | Buff: NOVICE
Ilaria :: Red Panda :: Heal Brit
#3

Cera
I'm an angel with a shotgun, fighting till the war's won, and I don't care if heaven won't take me back



As her voice echoes back to him, he feels Ilaria's claws - small and dull though they are - dig into his skin. You haven't spoken since the Goddess' battle, she reminds grimly, Cera's excitement having bled into her own until she'd forgotten as well. He pauses as he hears his name circle round his ears, hoof lifted in aborted, instinctive movement towards her. A magnet drawn to her polar north, always circling back to her, ever since she'd looked up at him with this big newborn rubies and followed him around the Foothills like a lost lamb. How can he not go to her? How can he let this come between them, when he has reached absolution? When he is finally, perhaps, worthy of her forgiveness? 

His smile dwindled as she surfaced, not because he was unhappy to see her but because he remembered. And what a fool he was to have forgotten in the first place. He moves towards her swiftly, surely, one wing lifting for Ilaria to scamper across to the magnolia where she climbs to the lowest branch to watch over them as a steady guardian. 

"I'm sorry," he says, as sure and strong as the stone beneath the earth, the metal tempered in his blood, the rock solid foundation Midas had secretly fostered inside of him. He is unswayed in his apology, his humility, standing before this guardian of his forgiveness with the world in her eyes and his heart tied neatly beside hers in her chest. He stands for his judgment, a figure of repentance, and awaits the fall of her blade upon his nape. That, or the sweet kiss of deliverance. 

"I was so blinded by hate, by loss..." and he can say it and still breathe, now. That he can breathe at all is a miracle, but he is a man of faith, bolstered by sainthood. "But I've spoken to the Goddess. I've righted my wrongs. I've found salvation in my Lord, and in the Earth God's forgiveness. I know what I did...it was foolish, beyond foolish. I know I hurt you," and he softens, whispers, because that is a mistake far more grave than attacking any goddess. To have hurt the child he'd sworn always to protect, to love, to cherish above all others...he deserves her sentence of death, of rejection and abandonment. But he prays for her to stay, for all his foolishness, for all the mistakes he ever made and will surely make again. He prays that she loves him enough to stay. 

"You've grown so much," he whispers, and his throat is tight with remembrance. Chances another step forward. "I looked away for a second, and..." he can't speak past the lump, the collection of all his mistakes blotting out any attempt at finding words. "I was so proud of you, in those battles. I wanted to march over and kick those hovering stallions in the head, thinking they needed to protect you," and it's a choked attempt at a laugh but Cera manages it anyways, head shaking in disbelief at the ghosts of those he never knew. Didn't care to, if they could not see Ranjiri the way he did. And nobody would ever be worthy of her, because that level of love and the height of the pedestal he put her upon could never be equaled by anyone else. "And I'm sorry. For what I did. Both because of the hatred that drove me, and because I scared you," and his eyes are soft and green, and he begs her to look into them and see the sincerity for herself. "Can you forgive me?"

Please only tag starting posts, spars, and threads collecting dust!

Ranjiri the GoldenShade Posts: 372
World's Edge Mare atk: 4.5 | def: 8.5 | dam: 6
Mare :: Hybrid :: 16.0 :: 5 HP: 62 | Buff: NOVICE
Mara :: Common Rougarou :: Shadow ali
#4

"I'm sorry." He said and all I could do was stand there and stare at him and wait for him to say something else, because I really didn't think that he had called me to him after so long just to apologize to me. "I was so blinded by hate, by loss..." He continued on and I wanted so badly to interrupt him and tell him that he wasn't the only one who suffered loss.  I had also lost my brother and my father and had my whole world turned upside down. I think there was a part of me that was scared to speak up and say what was on my mind because I already felt like I had come so close to losing my brother that speaking up would just drive him farther away from me. I didn't want to be alone. But I felt like I had to say something, to express how I had felt as I watched him plummet headlong into an attack that could have ended with him just as dead as Hototo.

"I was.... angry... for a long time after the Goddess' battle." I admitted. "At you. Momma. Aunt Phi... Archi." Unlike the rest of them I had lashed out at him verbally. I had screamed at him and told him things out of anger that, when I looked back, I wasn't proud of. I would have to seek him out at a later date to apologize to him for being so mean. "When I saw you attacking I was so scared that she would do to you what she did to Toto and everyone else... I was scared that I would lose you, too, and I was angry that you would put yourself in that situation." I blinked and I stared hard at the ground for the longest time as I tried to formulate what else it was that I wanted to say and when it hit me the simplicity of it made me smile. "I love you, Cera." I murmured to my brother. "And I don't want you to leave me. Ever. I need you right here by my side."

"You've grown so much. I looked away for a second, and..."

My smile grew and I closed the distance that Cera had left between us because I hated it. I hated feeling like I was separated from someone that I cared so much about. When I reached him I aimed to tuck my neck under his. "I'm not too big for you to hold me." I said and I hoped so badly that he would pull me closer because it had been far too long since I'd felt safe and secure in my brother's embrace. "I'll never be too big for this." There was a surge of pride that rocketed through my whole body when Cera told me that he was proud of me in the battles. I still had mixed emotions about the whole ordeal because I was far from being a fighter. "I wanted to protect our family." I said. "I had to." I hadn't wanted to be the damsel in distress anymore, I wanted to be able to help.

"Can you forgive me?"

It was, perhaps, the easiest question anyone could have ever asked me. "Of course." I said without hesitation. No matter what Cera did I would always forgive him because I loved him.

"."


Mother, make me
Make me a big tall tree
So I can shed my leaves and let it blow through me

@Cera

aud pixel!

Cera the Golden Prince Posts: 419
Outcast atk: 5.5 | def: 9.5 | dam: 4.5
Stallion :: Pegasus :: 16.3hh :: 6 Years HP: 65 | Buff: NOVICE
Ilaria :: Red Panda :: Heal Brit
#5

Cera
I'm an angel with a shotgun, fighting till the war's won, and I don't care if heaven won't take me back



He stands solemn before her as she watches him quietly, her deep ruby eyes a storm of flickering emotions that he can't bear to face lest he recognize one of them. Awaits her judgment, for the hammer of her decision to come down and sentence him to death or some other far more grievous form of persecution. Ranjiri could kill him in so many more ways than the physical, if she so decided to be that cruel. To lose her, to know that it was his own actions that forced her away, but have her be so close to him without her love accompanying would be the end of him. For a soul so intertwined with family, he seemed to always lose them through some horrific means. He would sell his soul and submit himself to eternal torturous damnation if it meant he didn't lose Ranjiri, too. If it meant he didn't have to one day find her broken and bloody, sundered by the evil forces of the world that always seemed intent on stealing what little good Cera had left in his life. Maybe she thought him the greatest fool to have attacked the Goddess, but to him, he'd have rather initiated the end right there. Himself. If he was to die it would be of his own volition, and it scared him a little now to think that he'd been anticipating it. Accepted it. She didn't deserve that. 

But he was here now, and he'd found the rock beneath his feet once more. And just as surprising as that was, she revealed yet another forgiveness that he didn't deserve. But one that was worth so much more than any god could give him. "I love you too," and it's strong and sure but it waivers a little on the undercurrent, because he doesn't deserve her forgiveness but he is a greedy and selfish mortal and he will take it. Shuddered like a marionette, strings in the process of being sawed through, and collapsed into her happily as she stepped forward into his embrace. Midas had always taught Cera to take pride in his wings, for they were of great span and far too large for his lanky body. He had never taught Cera the rest that he could do outside the skies, that he could ever shield or love or comfort with their breadth. But Ranjiri had. And he raised them to envelop her, shrouding her dark form in the ivory cloud of his wings and simply letting himself feel her against his chest. Hold her close while he could, because he would spare no further moments with her in the future. "You'll always be that little girl in the Foothills to me," he whispered against her skin. 

"The time for war is over," he murmured, reluctantly pulling away, muzzle tracing every curve he could reach as he did so. He'd come here on a job, couldn't slack no matter how he wanted to just sit there in Ranjiri's embrace. "But we can still help in other ways. It's why I was here," he reminded. Downy wings fell away from where they'd filtered sunlight in pale glow across her skin, forcing himself to step back - but not without a gentle bump of his muzzle towards hers, eyes warmer than they'd been in years. "Ready to do some crafting, baby sis?" And if there was a mischievous sparkle in his eyes, well, who could blame him? That she'd followed in his footsteps - his - meant the world to him. 

The original key he'd been given as a forger was on a thin band that encircled one wing, the key itself tucked just behind his left elbow and up against his belly. He turned to show it to her briefly, smile fondly creasing his lips. "We need to make keys for the citizens that can't fly across the land bridge. We're going to need a lot of them, so don't worry if you make a few imperfect ones the first few times. They'll do the job one way or another. Have you been practicing?" He tapped one snowy hoof against the ground, where the deposits rested. He could feel them there, like a fuzzy sonar map, awaiting his manipulation. His blood sang in excitement and he yanked them closer to the surface with one mighty heave, until the tops of some of them gleamed in the sunlight around them. It would make it easier on Ranjiri to work with the lumps close quartered. 

He grabbed at it with the magic he felt deep down in his bones, pulled and yanked until one section was free of the main deposit, and began to twist and manipulate it freely in the air where she could watch. They were rustic, simplistic things, and didn't need to be very glamorous. A hole for a cord if desired, and the same basic prongs as his own key. The metal gleamed smooth and perfect, nonetheless, but Cera didn't bother himself with distinction or caring about the way the color wasn't a solid perfect metallic all the way through. The integrity of the metal and the purity didn't matter so much in a bulk session like this. "See?" he gestured down to the completed key and let it drop to the sand between them as their guide. "They're simple, basic shapes. Just envision what you want in your mind, focus on the metal, and try to find what you want within it. Like tracing a shape. Call it into being, play with the metal and push it into place where you want it to go." He drew on another pocket, a larger lump surfacing, and two more keys were shortly taking shape. Cera didn't need to focus on singulars any longer, and if he got his own chunk done he could help Ranjiri step by step more effectively if she needed it. Cera doubted it though, his sister was a talented individual. Shaking off the dusting of sweat from the exertion, his own quota filled, he stepped around to Ranjiri's side to watch her progress.



Cera has made three Dragon's Throat keys!


Please only tag starting posts, spars, and threads collecting dust!

Ranjiri the GoldenShade Posts: 372
World's Edge Mare atk: 4.5 | def: 8.5 | dam: 6
Mare :: Hybrid :: 16.0 :: 5 HP: 62 | Buff: NOVICE
Mara :: Common Rougarou :: Shadow ali
#6
"The time for war is over."

I wanted so badly to believe what Cera said, to latch on to it and hold it as a truth, but I knew it wasn't. I knew that the world and the horses living in it had their evils. So long as selfishness, prejudices, anger, and hatred ran so rampantly through the land I knew that there would be war. Maybe not now, maybe not tomorrow, but there would be war again. There would be more death, more hurt, more suffering, but I simply smiled and kept those thoughts to myself. Thankfully he moved on from there rather quickly and on to the whole reason he had really sought me out in the first place. We were to craft keys for the Throaters that couldn't fly across the water to the Throat.

The first thing that ran through my head was that I should have been practicing. It was like Cera could read my mind, though, because no sooner had I thought that I should have practiced he was asking if I had. "No." I murmured sheepishly. "Not with all the fighting... and... stuff." Like flying around looking for Dragomir, who didn't want to be found. "But now's as good a time as any." Because I had to learn sometime and why not now? Why not when I had the best teacher the Throat had to offer to walk me through step by step.

As any good teacher usually does, Cera showed me the key he had and how to craft it. He made it look really simple, but I could only assume that it wasn't as simple as he was making it out to be. I stayed quiet and nodded as he explained how to work the metal into shapes then watched as he made two more keys. "You make it look so easy." I said and I didn't bother trying to cover up how amazed I was.

It was my turn, though, and I concentrated. I used the magic that my position came with to seek out the ore under the ground and draw it to the surface and it was like pushing against a boulder and trying to get it to move. Sweat broke out across my neck and shoulders and I scrunched up my nose, but I kept concentrating until I had enough to make an imperfect key. It was crooked and the hole for the strap was an afterthought, but it had the same basic shape as the one Cera had made. Kind of. It fell to the ground at our hooves and I looked at it, frowning. "Its kinda ugly." I said, but that wasn't going to stop me. I tried again. My second key was still imperfect compared to Cera's, but it was notably better than the first. The one that followed that, while still not perfect, was still better than the first two. 

I stared down at my three ugly keys laying in the sand by Cera's perfect ones and I couldn't help but laugh. "They're so ugly." I said. "Are you sure they'll work?"



"."


Mother, make me
Make me a big tall tree
So I can shed my leaves and let it blow through me

aud pixel!


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