the Rift


[OPEN] Rage red.

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
#1
Anger. It had filled him with its dangerously absolving tongues, burning the sorrow and guilt to ashy scars in his conscience. Heavy limbs, still weighted with the blame that his rage allowed his mind to ignore, had carried him unseeingly across Helovia. Long, pounding strides swept continuously, relentlessly, seeking some sort of relief from the fires that licked the insides of his chest. The incessant, monotonous movements sought reprieve from the flames before they consumed him.

So in some ill-planned, masochistic workings of his subconscious, he found his large, ivory hooves sending infinite ripples across the Halcyon Flats. The last place he had found some semblance of comfort— even bliss. A place of promise. A promise now shattered to the ravenous past that, with its insatiable hunger, indiscriminately consumes ours triumphs, failures, aspirations, and despairs.

But to the Elephant, who stared down at his ripple-warped reflection, this place of Sun’s promise had (in his simmering fury) morphed into a purgatory without horizon; a limbo of anguish. Whispered promises, revered caresses— they ballooned to the forefront of his thoughts like a sudden glare that blinds the eye.

And they were the spark to the smoldering embers.

A conflagration leapt to life in within him, filming his gaze with red rage. He was glad he was alone, without a soul in sight to witness or fall victim to the madness that overwhelmed him. Yet, he wasn’t— he needed to strike out, to feel the destructive conquest.

The furor ripped a trumpeting roar from his throat and his hooves exploded in frothy droplets as he reared and crashed repeatedly against the flats— against the mirror, against his reflection. His nostrils flared, unable to bring in enough oxygen to feed these angry flames. There was no outlet for this explosive rage, surely it would consume him—

A blinding wave of heat—

—And suddenly it left him, peeling right out of his massive chest in a fiery, volatile amorphous blob of outrage and magma. Except it was a form. A small elephant; his namesake.

The great stallion fell unceremoniously to all four hooves, ears straining and eyes wide while his sides heaved for more breaths than his nostrils could provide. “What…?” Confusion pulled the unfinished question from his lips, which quickly snapped shut as the flaming lava beast rounded on him.

Mild panic flared through him as he met the blazing pits that were the elephant’s eyes. The were livid, as was the entirety of the beast. It squared itself, getting ready to charge him, flaming ears wide and waving, “No!” The word, the command, the prayer was out of his mouth before he could stop it. The lava-elephant paused, hissing steam curling from his short legs.
He paid for his sins. He was saved.
But some sins haunt us no matter how much we pay.
Image

ooc| Open to anyone! :D He's just discovered his magic... so approach with caution ;]

Please tag Tembovu.

Thranduil the Laurelin Posts: 598
Outcast atk: 5.5 | def: 11 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.2 hh :: Eight HP: 77 | Buff: ENDURE
Haldir :: Common Cerndyr :: Dark Mist Hawk
#2


A hot beat pulses through his veins, electrifying, and burning his muscles. The crowd head tucks and then shakes, splaying the white locks about recklessly. Gods this felt good. Earth eyes look back up to see the flats stretch before him, reflecting in perfection the sky above. It felt alien, out of place, and to him, blessed. Gods look how it stretched out in front of him. Open, flat, and inviting. His heart began to pound and drive again, but his body had already been spent in a run across. The salt water was even still dripping from his underbelly. How good it felt though. How relieving it was to see no stone or ice.

He slows to a walk, letting his hips swing, and head bob relaxed. His hair slightly unkempt and tossed uncaringly across his leafen star, while his tasseled tail swings with an even beat, dragging its tips through the water. It’s a perfect picture, yet, something is missing. The dark stag who usually stayed ever so close to the golden was missing. The golden doesn’t even seem to care of notice, his emotions untainted by the separation. The deer had indeed been left behind though, back by the flat’s border. The gold had risen early and feeling his heart roar with might moved to race across the flats. The deer, having raced across yesterday did not feel the same call. So he stayed. And good goods did it feel freeing.

Of course the world was not always so fair with its blessings. The moving sun and day were beginning to nag his brain, and from the distance he felt the stag’s mood begin to drop. Flicking his ears back in irritation at the stag’s neediness, the gold begins to drag his feet, thinking of the turn around coming. His mind could not find any excuse to stop it, and his mood sours greatly for it. Coming at last to a stop he snorts, and head begins to swing round when a shout rips across the plateau. Perfect.

A grin rises back on his face. Well he certainly couldn’t return without investigating that. I mean, that horse may need help. The golden had to go see about this creature. He had too. That creature might need saving from some terrible horrible fate. The golden had to go and see to its safety! Laughing at the thoughts the Laurelin leaps off towards the sound, even throwing a buck out as he goes. If anyone needed saving, this was the last horse they would want to see charging to their rescue. Whatever trouble they were in, he would double it.

The scene that he finds is even more interesting that he could have possibly hoped for. As he jogs up to the scene, letting the energy racing through him extend his gait and bring it high in power, he finds a most odd scene. A great horse, dwarfing even the gold, stood facing off a creature of flame. Harks lean forward and gait slows but that smile does not waver. It instead curls wickedly. “That’s a neat trick….” It slips through but comes laced with malicious intentions. His slows as he walks up behind the flaming creature, though it was hard to tell what creature it was. The gold had never seen anything like that, but of course that didn’t stop him.

The Laurelin comes to a halt, his attention fully caught, and mind a whirl with curiosity and wonder. How good it felt to give in to it too. To let his mind roam free over its thoughts and feel no ties or strain. Though his earth eyes do not leave the firey elephant his voice rumbles over its hisses. “Well this looks fun.” And the smirk upon his lips grew. This was the golden son as he should be. Quick, cunning, and probably a little mad. A powerful force without collar or leash. This was the Laurelin.


OOC ::
"speech"


Posting Poetics
Image by the AMAZING Vossity

@Tembovu

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

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
#3
His attention, so wholly focused on the threatened charge from the beast of molten rock, did not catch the silent approach of the golden stallion. His navy eyes were transfixed on the waving ears and steaming legs of the fiery creature, his entire mind willing it to not charge its devastatingly hot and powerful body towards him. And it worked… if only for a few, precious moments in time. And, unnoticed by the King at the moment (but to me realized later in a moment of epiphany), gone was his outrage and dangerous temper. They were embodied in the beast before him.

So directed was his attention that the voice that floated on venomous droplets and slid into his ears were an entire shock to the mammoth. Eyes, widened in surprise, flew to the source of such smugly malevolent words, head raising even to an even higher height. His thick hide was stretched tight over taunt muscles that bulged with a need for action— the shock and surprise was never pleasant for him. He needed to react, respond, do something.

Yet, how does one react to flaming elephant peeling out of ones skin?

The beast, slowly becoming less attached to his elephantine form, rounded on the golden stag, mirroring the shift in Tembovu’s attention with eerie similarity. Tongues of flame licked from between hardening and melting lava on its back, while heat waves distorted the air around its body. Its ears, which wavered to and from their original shame and balls of flame, flag in fury as its burning pits of eyes try to train on the golden one. It is loosing its magic, its purpose with being so long outside its maker.

But the destructive anger which had birthed the beast provided enough fury for a longer lifetime than it would normally have had. So it charged in a flaming burst of enraged trumpeting. Or what would have been trumpeting, were it a true elephant and not some rage-created hellion. Each pounding stride left an ephemeral trail of salty steam and a small amount of lava. The fiery melting of the creature dissipated in hot ash to the wind. Molten tusks curved, grew, leapt with flames as it stampeded towards the intruder. Surely he must be deserving of his rage.

The true Elephant, the man who had unknowingly given breath to this demon, snorted in a combination of concern and fear. Though the events were unraveling too quickly for him to fully form a sentence before the charge began. The golden stag had barely halted or finished the syllable of ”fun” before fire started rushing at him. “Watch yourself!” The warning, perhaps futile, came as a low rumble from his barrel.


Summary: The magmaphant, which is starting to loose its form, charges @Thranduil :o
He paid for his sins. He was saved.
But some sins haunt us no matter how much we pay.
Image

Please tag Tembovu.

Thranduil the Laurelin Posts: 598
Outcast atk: 5.5 | def: 11 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.2 hh :: Eight HP: 77 | Buff: ENDURE
Haldir :: Common Cerndyr :: Dark Mist Hawk
#4


His heart pounds in his chest with adrenaline. Its muscles beating out firm and strong. Not any of this flighty, high pitched nonsense it seemed to do more in the Basin. No this was deep, and rooted in confidence and its accompanying grace. In such a chaotic moment, the golden knew what to do, knew how to react, and it felt so wonderfully good to have such power and control.

Just as the words had slipped from his lips a roar rose from the lava beast. Harks lean up straighter, and his earth eyes gleam sharp with the creature’s reflection. My, that didn’t sound like a very happy magma beast. A rumble, a voice?, comes across the flats from the otherside, but the golden does not need a warning. Really did we all expect this lava creature to roll over and play fetch? It was one of the reasons his nerves had trembled and sparked with the opportunity to sneak up on the show. Whether the creature was independent, or connected to the other unicorn here, it didn’t matter. He could see it all ending in only one way. And it delighted his most very dark heart.

The beast charges, but already the golden was calculating distances and moving too. Only he moved forward. His cloven hooves leap towards the charging beast. But before you go imagining the fool gold’s death, see this- He exhales with purpose, and within the gears release. His golden coat shimmers, then falls away like dust, and underneath is something warm and dark. The distances was short though, and he had no time to loose. Two black wings flashed open from the still falling gold dust, and begin to pound up and down. Perhaps not with as much finesse as he’d like but there was little to help him out here. Crowned head shakes the last of the dust from his face and an angular antlered head rises back up.

So very close. They would collide in 3…2…He leaps. A giant dun form surges up, muscles rippling and wings working furiously. It wasn’t easy to take off from so flat a ground. But over struggles to soar. Hopefully clearing the beast with a foot to spare, though he only barely remembers to flick the long tail up. Only, something rather unexpected did happen. As he leapt and he was pushed into great concentration on the beat of the wings, and pulling from them as much power as he could he felt a new sensation well within him. A flicker of curiosity touches it, and it releases. Suddenly in mid flight a blast of fire bolted out of the black wings, pounding towards the ground, and hisses and sizzles as it strikes the salt flats (and possibly a magmaphant). It was smaller and less powerful than usual for it was so undirected, but it let loose, and shocked even the gold. Whether he was burned or not, his adrenaline hid, and there was little time for shock. He glides from the small height he had managed and lands with some form of rough grace. And there standing before the Elephant King was Gaucho.

Though it was doubtful the Wildfire ever wore a face like that. His bright blue eyes shown brilliantly, and his dark lips were curled in the same smile. Yet he doesn’t look to the other first, instead within those seconds, he looks to the wings. To the golden’s amazement the dark tips and jointed flickered with flame, but did not burn. His mind races to the seconds before in flight. He had created a blast of fire right? For a moment the Wildfire is still as the golden feels about him. Deep in the chest lay several center of power. Like the one the golden had touched before. His heart raced as he connected the two. Magic. He possessed not only the Wildfire’s image and voice, but magic.

Too pleased with himself, after those few seconds, he looks back up with a very satisfied, twisted grin and nod at the other, then he looks back behind him. The antlered head twisting back, and he wondered if he’d cleared the magma high enough as he waited for any pain to appear. Though he had enjoyed the show, that magma thing was quiet a tricky little bit of fun. In a spark of thought, the golden within inhales, letting gears turn again. And he had no intentions of being rammed from behind. “Was that your pet?” Rumbled the dark rich voice. It sounded so strange that it spoke with such fluidity given the character’s usual disjointed speech, and that is left the lips that held such a wide grin.


OOC :: Thranduil shifts into Gaucho and attempts to fly over the magmaphant, I'll leave his success, and the results of his fire blast over it, up to you. =] No large burns please, but the rest is up to you love!

Identities: Erebos, Archibald, Gaucho, Tembovu
"speech"


Posting Poetics
Image by the AMAZING Vossity

@Tembovu

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

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
#5
Dark blue eyes widen, and he begins to move towards the golden as the stag starts to walk into the charging elephant. The King wasn’t sure what he could do, but some large part of him would feel responsible if the antlered man was burned by molten rock— even if he was going to greet the flaming beast’s charge. He opened his mouth to bellow some kind of warning—

—but it came out as a shocked boom of wordless sounds. The golden man grew wings, morphing into another being entirely. The Elephant froze, rocking back on his haunches, mouth agape as he took to the sky. What?

The charging beast, not to be thwarted by such magical contortions, gave a fiery trumpet as wings lifted its target into the sky. Raising on it’s miniature haunches, a long trunk of molten rock wrapped around a hind fetlock of the now-flighted equine. Though, upon the burning contact with another being, it burst into flying chunks of lava, some spattering the underside of the flying man and the Elephant King, himself.

Fire from flighted, burning wings reigned down on the exploded elephant, and Tembovu lurched backwards to get away from the hot blast. Adrenaline stopped him from realizing that he had been burned by both his own creation and the wing-fire, just yet. Though, soon, the searing pain would make itself known on his chest (where spatters of lava had hit) and side of his neck (where some stray fire had brushed against him).

The remainder of the small beast was swept away as heavy ash, nothing remaining of such destructive rage. Dark blue eyes watched the golden man— who was now the dun Sultan of the south that he had seen at the Rift battles— landed before him, sides moving with surprised breaths. Black brows raise at the smug smirk that greeting his own, stunned face. A new voice, though with the same cadence of speech, comes from the dark, bone-pierced muzzle.

He blinked, once, at the question. And then gave a short, booming chuckle at the sheer absurdity of all of this. “A ‘pet’ of mine would be better behaved and—” he gave a wry, lopsided smile, “wouldn’t have missed.” His hide, beginning to feel the sting, twitched as his burns weeped their clear serum. Oh, how he hated being burned. His gaze darkens, though he ignores the bite of the burns.

“That’s a useful trick,” he swept his great horn over the body of the man before him, indicating his shape-shifting, “I am Tembovu, King of the Edge. Who, or what, are you?” His brows raise fractionally as his low voice rumbles.

Summary: magmaphant grabs onto Thran's fetlock with his trunk, then explodes. Burning chunks land on his underside and Tembovu's chest. Thran/Guach's fire burns the side of Tembovu's neck.
He paid for his sins. He was saved.
But some sins haunt us no matter how much we pay.
Image
@Thranduil

Please tag Tembovu.

Blu the Bootyful Posts: 443
Administrator atk: 99 | def: 99 | dam: 99
Mare :: Other :: 5'7" :: 25 HP: 99999 | Buff: TWERK
Blu
#6
unarchived per request
 HP: 1100

Helovia Hard Mode

Thranduil the Laurelin Posts: 598
Outcast atk: 5.5 | def: 11 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.2 hh :: Eight HP: 77 | Buff: ENDURE
Haldir :: Common Cerndyr :: Dark Mist Hawk
#7


The golden, riding high on the clouds of his success, was never as quickly brought down. Having stood still for a moment, the rush of it all calmed. As the other laughed the golden went to shift his weight, settling back with eas-then he body screamed. The whole of the dun’s frame went ridged as nerves from his underside down to his leg screamed bloody murder. The massive guest and all sense of bravado was left as the Wildfire hissed in a breath. Burned. The smell of burnt flesh reached him and his whole body shivered. Gods he hated that smell. It was one of the few things that could ever make the golden feel sick to his gut. “It didn’t miss.” Came a more annoyed and threatening hiss.

His leg ached worse of all. It had been the shift of weight onto that woken it up. The paper thin flesh had been little protection for muscles and nerves within. It (and a couple of things on his underside hurt worse of all). Each nerve pricked and speared him, and though the other may have been successful at hiding it, the gold was not so much. Especially as he struggled too to keep his illusion together and not exhale again on accident. Normally pain would be easier to hide. Not this pain. His mind rolled for relief. Anything. Everything. And to its plea, and curious, but very foggy memory came forward. On the cliffs, fevered and mad, through the fog a flaming wing with a healer’s touch cleared his vision. The annoyance on the dun’s face stilled into concentration.

Before it had been unintentional, the rush of adrenaline and fight had brought it forth. Now though he was searching for it. Ignoring the other for a moment he focuses on his own side. A dark flaming wing slowly reaches down and wraps its tips behind the tattered limb. What should have been a rough, agonizing feeling though, was nothing more than the warm caresses. Now for the interesting part. He had theorized this power, now time to see if it existed. Deep inside he reached, and there he felt it. An orb of energy pulsating. A share of the very magic that others could feel revolving in them. Carefully the golden took hold and evoked the powers inside. At first it would not come. No relief. Nothing happened. He pulled at it more forcefully, less carefully, and the orb released. It was less tame than under its master’s hand, but it came just the same.

A warmth washed upon his wounds, but then sided away, leaving him with a heavy sigh. Tentatively the hind was placed down, and weight tested on it. It was not solid, but no pain answered him. The wild grin began to rise up on the dark dun’s face once more. In actually Thranduil probably could have had a cow he was so happy. A rush of possibilities and ideas blew through him, and windows flung open on every side. Brilliant.

He gave little thought to the one still in front of him. After all, a good portion of his body still screamed with the molten fire. Wings carefully wrapped under him, the warm flames like the sun on a cool winter’s day. Again he pulled deep inside, reaching for the pulsating orb, and this time he feels others alongside it. Yet he knows what it is he wants, and reaching deep inside again it is pulled forth, and relief, seeps through.

It was only as he finished that the deep voice of the other caught his attention again. Flaming wings tuck back, and for the first real time, he looks at this creature before him. Or, as he just revealed, King. The golden wanted to laugh, and he nearly did, the wicked grin twisting devilishly on his face. Yet he keeps it together. Standing close now, the height and statue of the other kept the humor away. Not to mention he noticed the King had not escaped unscathed either. He wondered if this creature would be humble enough to ask for the warmth of the flames…or if he was too proud. What a wonderful test so cleverly and perfectly posed.

Still it was his turn to speak. And for a moment he thought of returning in kind. Thranduil, the Laurelin, Lord of the North. A few weeks ago he would have said it without thinking, without hesitation. But now….the words brought a most sour taste in his mouth. This day had been all about escaping the view of the mountains, so he was loathe to call them home. He also did not enjoy being just a shadow, some unnamed thing. No, the threat his gift brought, the power, it should have a name. "Thranduil, at your service.” The old familiar greeting rolled off easily and smooth, even in the dark voice of Gaucho. And yet for all the titles the golden could have called on, that one felt to be the best answer.





OOC ::

Identities: Erebos, Archibald, Gaucho, Tembovu
"speech"


Posting Poetics
Image by the AMAZING Vossity

@Tembovu

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

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
#8
“It didn’t miss.” The hiss was menacing, so much more so than taunting and amused words uttered earlier by the shape-shifting man. The King’s eyes narrowed marginally, cobalt hardening at the threatening undercurrent, “Indeed, it did not,” rumbling words were plain and hard. There was no apology in them— there was something about this transfiguring stallion that put him on edge. Indeed, beneath the seeping serum of his burns, muscles had grown taunt and ready. Though their tension brought his attention back to the sweet agony of his burned neck, “And, it seems, neither did you,” his neck flexes slightly, gesturing and bringing attention to the scalded skin along it’s length.

Ears tilt forward as the Laurelin’s wings flamed around his seeping burn wound, his great head shifting to better watch just what the man was doing. And, as flames billowed around Gaucho’s hind leg, suddenly the wound was no more— and the pain evidently left the dun’s face. “Yet another useful trick,” the Elephant commented dryly. It seemed this man (now introducing himself as “Thranduil”) was full of surprises.

Though the golden-turned-dun man had introduced him with the phrase “at your service,” the King duly noted the lack of offer to heal his own wounds. He studied the piercing blue eyes for a moment; this man reminded him of the covetous council members in Dorobo. Delighted to be amused, quick to turn a appeasing phrase (did he not do the same?), and even quicker to turn waspish and venomous the moment their avarice was threatened.

The Elephant, unsettled and mistrusting, felt no favorable emotions swell towards the golden. He had already unleashed his newly discovered, explosive magic on the man. He did not wish to be further indebted and entwined; he could find a Moon Doctor to heal his wounds. Glancing back over the Flats in the direction of the Edge once, he retuned his attention to the man before him, “Apologies for any inconvenience, Thrandiul. Though it seems you are no worse for wear,” a lopsided grin crossed his face, but did not relieve the wary lines around his eyes, “I will see myself to the Edge’s Doctors. Until we meet again.” Though the Elephant was unsure if he wanted to cross paths with the Laurelin again.
He paid for his sins. He was saved.
But some sins haunt us no matter how much we pay.
Image
@Thranduil I'm happy to have this fade, now, if you're okay with it! :D

Please tag Tembovu.


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