the Rift


[OPEN] Nice Guys Finish Last

Albrecht Posts: 249
Aurora Basin Impersonator atk: 6 | def: 8.5 | dam: 2.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.1hh :: 19 (Orangemoon) HP: 60 | Buff: NOVICE
Strom :: Suma Ball Python :: None Townsen
#1
Albrecht
Cold.
Searing cold that slices into skin and muscle. Cold that whistles through bones as if they were hollow and bare to the world. Cold that stings, cold that cracks, cold that splinters the tears in his eyes before they fall. The cold gaze of betrayal buffeting his mind with more force than any gale. The sickly cold of fear, of sorrow, of being alone.
Nothing but cold, cold, cold.


A convulsive shudder racks the black mound to life. A head and neck materializes from the mass. Long copper hair falls from its chin, continues up the curve of the jaw and follows the line of the stallions throat down to the center of his shallow chest where it disappears beneath the huddle of his folded legs, though russet tips peeking here and there prove it to be an uninterrupted feature.

Black ears lie sullenly backward, mimicking the curve of twin spiraling black horns erupting from his furrowed brow. Awareness does nothing to ease his mind. The nightmares are real and the waking hours just a continuation of their horrors. Green eyes stare dully outward, numb to the bright colors splashing the landscape around them.

The ground is damp with moisture but still manages to be unforgivingly solid. "Fucking dirt for bedding and rocks for company. Happy fucking retirement.” Profanity feels alien in his mouth and adds an irritatingly awkward tone to his voice. He wasn’t used to cursing, but what reason did he have now for manners? "Not a fucking thing.” He spat the syllables this time, feeling they came across with much more conviction.

His knees were aching and his hocks felt stiff enough to impregnate someone, but be damned if he was going to scrabble his way to all fours for no reason. Still glowering, he drops his chin to its former resting place and wills the sun to rise, warm his frigid hide, and magically put the pieces of his shattered life back together.
The Curmudgeon
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Tag dat azz!  @Albrecht
Violence & Magic okay.
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Elsa the Icebound Posts: 644
World's Edge Protector atk: 6 | def: 10.5 | dam: 6
Mare :: Pegasus :: 16.2 Hands :: Six (Frostfall) HP: 73 | Buff: BULK
Edgar :: Plain Zephyr :: Arctic & Wakiya Klare
#2

Elsa
My head's underwater, but i'm breathing fine.
Hell yeah!

The cold was moving closer and closer in. If Elsa was excited for anything to come, it was winter. The snow, the cold, it was seriously the best. Edgar was giddy with excitement too. He loved diving into the snow banks and popping back up. He said it reminded him of a penguin, which was actually quite weird since the only version of a penguin that he is seen is the one that flickered in the back of Elsa’s memories. Nonetheless he was determined to have the best penguin winter ever.

The two were gracefully meandering about underneath the Threshold trees. Not that summer was long gone, there terrible humid heat wasn’t trapped underneath. Instead it was a comforting mix of dead pine needles and dank earth. It smelled like pure nature, untouched by seedy hooves.

And then a string of fuck this and fuck that was being thrown all over the place. First, did they not realize that fuck was a term that just got boring after more than one use in succession? Two that word had two very different meanings, and although he probably meant the more negative connotation, she was going to give him a full dash of sass. ”Well, there is a fucking thing here, but if you wanna ride you’re going to have to pay the fee.” She snorted, coming to a stop near the dark stallion. A unicorn unsurprisingly. Most seemed to have very surly attitudes. ”What brings you here in such a chipper mood?” She queried as Edgar tentatively reached his head above her poll. He was apparently scared shitless by this man, and how sassy and confident she was. Hopefully this would end kind of well.

"talk"


code © tamme, picture © chan
  • Any force can be used against Elsa.
  • Please tag any posts that involves Elsa.

Tangere Posts: 159
Aurora Basin Medic atk: 5 | def: 9 | dam: 5.5
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15.2hh :: Six Years | Birdsong HP: 63 | Buff: NOVICE
Phrixus :: White Raven :: None Psilo
#3

non omnis moriar



The silvery unicorn has just found a nice spot to graze on the edge of the stirring aspens. A nice place to watch the shadows dance and smell the melty peaks start to freeze again, slowly..so slowly. Tangere has never had a seasonal preference, she loves them all the same and in her old culture, each one had it's own Gods and benefits. Winter is an almost constant where she lives now though and that kind of shit you need a thick skin and a butt-load of tolerance for, seriously. It is worth it, she would say if you ever asked her. The frozen stillness has it's unique beauties, not just the ribbons of gorgeous lights that stream through the skies nightly, but the unity of it's community in general. The strength of it's army and it's cauldron of powerful citizens alike.

Only about three mouthfulls made it into her gurgling tummy before she heard the venomous voice in the trees to her left. Her head flies upward, ears forward and unblinking brown eyes set before her with accuracy. She can see a pale pegasus move swiftly through the trees and immediately she is drawn to the commotion.

She comes upon them with little grace, crashing over the sticks and leaves with her caprine-like feet. She can be quiet when she wants to be, but normally the pudgy little painted mare wants to be heard when approaching. Especially here, among strangers and newcomers, and possibly an enemy or two. She looks on the mare first, she gets there in time to hear the winged woman's voice but not of what she said. She nods to her, quickly realizing it is a vaguely familiar face she's looking at. She almost does not remember the name she heard nearly two years ago in the warm caves, where they hid from undead terror and the cold. “Ah,” She grins warmly, “Elsa.” She takes in a deep breath and slides her eyes to the stranger who threw out a few fucks earlier. She always loved those kind. “I am Tangere.” She turns to Elsa for a second, watching to see if the woman recognizes the name or her bone-white face with it's long coily horn. “Of Aurora Basin – a place not far from here with much to offer a traveler like yourself.” If she had heard him before, clearly, then she would tell him about the individual caves that everyone gets if they want. A place to hoard, hide, or whatever one wanted. She did not hear it though and only looks at him with curiosity and a smile, waiting for him to speak boldly again so she can find utter entertainment in it.


Image By PSILO!



<3 omgeee
im in love

Essetia Posts: 218
Outcast atk: 5.0 | def: 8 | dam: 6.0
Mare :: Equine :: 16.3HH :: 7 HP: 64.0 | Buff: NOVICE
Romul :: Arctic Wolf :: Confusion Linds
#4
How many times had I found myself on opposing ends of the Threshold? It seemed that it was either a duty or a habit that was impossible to break, but again a contribution to any given herd at any given time. There was always a ladder to climb and that ladder was one I’d always wanted to see myself at the top of…

So here I was… climbing.

It didn’t take long (though I certainly wished it had) to find myself on the outskirts of a small company. I recognized the bitter lash of insult and injury, but was more than surprised to find Elsa dangling at the end of it. Typically I was the smartass and she was the sweetheart… Of course, the invasion, the loss, and the combination of it all had changed us… That was a concept I was still having trouble reconciling with.

The main event, a black stallion with coppery accents, appeared to be a vile creature with the mouth to match. Of course, I wasn’t one to judge, especially when I was so often bitter before I was amiable- somehow that had settled into my stubborn disposition and stayed there. The other recruiter (because if that’s not what we were, then we were lying to one another) was from the Basin, and I cringed at the thought. They’d held me captive at one time and the name still left a fairly bitter taste on my tongue. I knew Elsa was there to represent the Edge and before I invited myself into their squabble of welcoming and smartass-ery, I decided that I had to go in with a slightly clearer head than everyone else (if that was possible).

Seems as though I’m late to the party- I hope I didn’t miss anything too important,” I greeted upon finally making my way into the fray. Romul trailed my flanks, rigid as a stone wall, and when I’d sidled alongside Elsa and Edgar, I turned my pale, curious gaze toward the newcomer. In most cases I would consider foreigners to be sheep among a pack of ravenous wolves, but at least this one was black. Black sheep often lived longer. “What’s your story then stranger?” I questioned with a lazy smile. I wasn’t sure what had happened that ruffled Elsa’s feathers so, but I figured she was dealing with a lot more than just a vagabond stallion who was probably more haughty than he was nice (ho, ho, ho joke).

I wanted to ask if she was okay and how she’d been doing, but recruiting didn’t really allow for niceties any longer… It was a pretty cut-and-dry affair that required some serious focus if one didn’t want to become enraged by the tactics of the competition. For his sake and my own, my full attention was soon lassoed by Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome… at least for now.

essetia & romul
@Albrecht

◄ Please tag Essetia in all replies!
◄ Force permitted, but no maiming or killing
◄ Pixel @ SongsOfInfinity

Albrecht Posts: 249
Aurora Basin Impersonator atk: 6 | def: 8.5 | dam: 2.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.1hh :: 19 (Orangemoon) HP: 60 | Buff: NOVICE
Strom :: Suma Ball Python :: None Townsen
#5
Albrecht
"You're more than welcome to warm these old bones, lass." The backward fold of his ears loosens somewhat and his green eyes flicker to life, briefly amused by his own brazenness, another new development. "I'm sure we could come to some manner of satisfactory trade... Age brings experience after all." A spindly lions tail lifts and pats the ground beside its host, flicking the copper fringe at its end across his hollowed flank. The hair is dry and brittle, catching in the hills and valleys of exposed ribs and falling listlessly from his prominent hip bones.

There used to be muscle and fat filling those gaps, back when health and happiness shone bright on his coat. Now he just looks dull, dirty. He looks frail. Somewhere deep inside there's a flush of embarrassment, but closer to the surface anger and resentment shield him from those more painful admissions. He won't hide the decrepitude. He wants her to see - wants someone to acknowledge the shit he's been through and see that he's not a villain at all but just another kind of victim.

Two more faces appear from among the trees, warm bodies lining up to introduce themselves. Attractive bodies no less, though the stallions mood is souring rapidly as he stubbornly refuses to think about the irony of finding a walking snowflake attractive and affirms to himself that they're more like hot springs on the inside anyway. Hot springs of any sort would do him a world of good right now.

"My story?" Black lips press together, momentarily balking. He wants them to see, not to know, and he certainly doesn't want the phantoms of memory to drag him through it a second time. "I had the biggest cock in the land and the ol' man of the herd wouldn't tolerate all his mares having black foals instead of red." Black foals, red foals, browns and greys - he'd had them all. Had lost them all.

The musk of wolf burned through his nostrils, suffocating all else. Wide eyes caught the iridescent glint of hollow haired outer fur against the bay mares side. He blinked hard, but it was no ghost to banish by sheer will. Joints popped and snapped as he finally rose, ears flat to his skull. "Fucking mongrel." Clenched teeth and genuine hatred lent a rare deepness to the words.
The Curmudgeon
Image Credit
           
[Image: 56c616e54affc]Rated M, R, NC-17, AO, 18+, NSFW
Tag dat azz!  @Albrecht
Violence & Magic okay.
Wish - Away - OOC


Elsa the Icebound Posts: 644
World's Edge Protector atk: 6 | def: 10.5 | dam: 6
Mare :: Pegasus :: 16.2 Hands :: Six (Frostfall) HP: 73 | Buff: BULK
Edgar :: Plain Zephyr :: Arctic & Wakiya Klare
#6

 
Elsa

My head's underwater, but i'm breathing fine.


Well that response was a bit sassier than she had intended. An amused brow raised as he said that they could come up with some satisfactory trade. She snorted, shaking her head lightly. ”No men could afford me, or convince me to do such things.” There was a bit of truth there, but she remained in a lighthearted mood. She had no intention of bedding anyone anytime soon, but what was life without a little fun?

Two more girls arrived. One was a familiar Basin mare, and she offered a civil nod. The Basin, eh they were warming up but still not getting a giant welcoming around her. Then again, the other who showed up… ”Essetia!” She exclaimed, offering bright nod to her friend. She had long forgotten about the woes and sadness of their last encounter. She didn’t seem as happy to see Elsa, but that did not deter the Icebound. She would remain happy for the rest of this day if it killed her.

She snorted out another laugh at his so called story. Somehow she highly doubted that it was the actual reason he was here, but at least he was attempting humor. So many who wandered through here were always in a rush, and most in a state of shock. It was weird having him in such a normal (albeit weird) mood. Though things darkened rather quickly as he caught sight of Essetia’s companion. He did not seem too fond of the maned friend, and Elsa warily watched the short encounter that would occur. The relationship with the ex-falls member and he companion were unknown to Elsa, but if it was anything like her bond with Edgar, there would be a bit of out lash. Granted this mysterious stallion probably didn’t know that the bond here was different, and that the wolf was not out to murder the world.

Edgar tried peeping up to move the encounter along. Here was not the place and time to have a showdown. ”Sounds quite interesting. And yet, you still have not given us a name to put with such an interesting story.” She smirked, hoping her attitude would not shock either of the other women too much. ”I am Elsa, queen of the World’s Edge. If you are looking for some place to uh… park it down for right now, the Edge can offer some respite from the wilderness.” She finished with a small nod, taking a step back to allow the other two to speak. Oh what an odd conversation this would become. With the Edge overridden with women, he probably would have no problem finding something to do.


"talk"


code © tamme, picture © chan
  • Any force can be used against Elsa.
  • Please tag any posts that involves Elsa.

Tangere Posts: 159
Aurora Basin Medic atk: 5 | def: 9 | dam: 5.5
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15.2hh :: Six Years | Birdsong HP: 63 | Buff: NOVICE
Phrixus :: White Raven :: None Psilo
#7

non omnis moriar



The bay and her dog were next on scene and Tangere greets them with the usual smile. She's never seen the woman before, but notices the small detail of a cringe as the mare settles amongst them. The fuck? It takes her a second to realize that it's because she's from the Basin. A sinister grin begins to plan and quickly fades. It's not like her to be vicious for no reason or rude without call for it, or so she thinks so, but she does find some delight in the mare's distaste for her home and it's people.

They hate us 'cause they ain't us – right?

The silver mare's smile holds nothing devious on the outside, but inwardly she sheds the vibrations of amusement to tickle her companions brain. He hunts somewhere out of sight. Their connection does not falter with the distance. His mission today is to find some rabbits for fur. Not normal rabbits, but big, ferocious spurbunnies. Yeah. They sound cute don't they, bunny – they're not cute at all. A nice big hide to be had though and food Phrixus at the same time. Irrelevant. She brings her mind back around to the subject at hand. The heap of a being in front of them, sputtering and muttering as the women gather around him. First he offer's Elsa an innuendo and Tangere snickers at his hollow effort and her almost believable refusal.

She wants it.

A half grin paints her rosy lips and she watches the white mare's body language flow under the pressure of the man's hungry eyes. Well this is entertaining. Suddenly her eyes snap back to the winged woman; QUEEN!? Well that's new (to her). She watches and waits for a smooth moment to interject, laughing through her wind-chime voice at the stallion's last comments. “Well this has been real and all,” She slides her eyes down the line of two mares, resting on Essetia for a second. She contemplates hissing like some rabid cat – just to confirm the girls assumed fear of the Basinfolk. She doesn't. Her eyes move to the stallion who is now on all fours, his coat and condition seem bland and underfed. His bones slightly stick out and his age shows in the sneaky pale hairs that gather in random places. Still weirdly handsome in a weird way? She has an appetite for men though and truly can't trust her initial judgments. Been there done that...almost got pregnant.But my muscles ache and I'm off to soak in the hot pools and tend the gardens.” She has her eyes boring into him like a starving hawk, “You're welcome to join me now, but do not venture there alone, to the Basin I mean,” She grins mischievously. “The sentinels will kill you.” Her eyes now drift to the others and she nods stiffly and cordially, void of any emotion or familiarity to either girl. “Ladies.” And she parts after glancing one last time at the mysterious man of charcoal and copper. She didn't have time to sit around and drool over his humor and charm and vie for his choice in a team. A seed has been planted.

Her thoughts churn and broil under her mind's surface as she departs. She realizes as she walks in the opposite direction of the group that she hasn't had a lover since before she came to Helovia. Such things used to be one of her more thrilling adventures she would partake in... Lovers were always fun. Maybe even a few kids soon. These are her thoughts as the distance grows between her and the trio. Soon they will not be heard or seen if she were to turn to look. Her silhouette floats across the horizon, head low and body slouched and tired. She was not lying when she spoke of her intentions on soaking her muscles in the natural springs that boil just outside of her cave-room. The mirage of the pool's warm steam starts to cloud her nostrils and she shakes it away with a smile, picking up to a slow steady sweeping trot.


Image By PSILO!



@Albrecht



  • You may use violence and magic against her at will, but no death.
  • Please tag me so I don't forget anyone(:

Essetia Posts: 218
Outcast atk: 5.0 | def: 8 | dam: 6.0
Mare :: Equine :: 16.3HH :: 7 HP: 64.0 | Buff: NOVICE
Romul :: Arctic Wolf :: Confusion Linds
#8
Perhaps it had taken Elsa a moment or two to realize I’d joined her side, because when she did, she turned those icy blue eyes toward me and nodded happily. I greeted my friend with a soft nudge against her shoulder, just above her wing joint, and inhaled the sweet scent she carried. However, while she was busy entertaining our rowdy guest, I nearly choked when she admitted that she was now Queen of the World’s Edge. Faraway were any notions of Elsa leading an army to war, but instead they were replaced with images of a crown-wearing matriarch. I smiled to myself at the thought and promised to congratulate her as soon as time allowed, but for the time being I simply turned a proud gaze toward the new Queen and nodded appreciably. Besides, I was soon distracted by the creature (was he even equid at all?) and his stories of the past.

Never before had I experienced a man so guided by his desires and basic, primal directions, but in a way… it suited him. He was curious (painfully so) and oddly handsome (if equally repulsive). In fact, I nearly snorted with laughter as he attempted to summon his woes in narrative form (which were just as depraved as he was). I traced the gaunt ribs and the studied his threadbare locks in total fascination; could I ever truly see him in the Throat? Probably not, but I’d extend the offer nonetheless. Maybe some of the warriors would get a good kick out this one. “A pity,” I smirked. “I guess you’ve come to the right place though- I can’t say that the kings around here keep too many ladies in waiting.

I was jovial and perhaps even a bit cloudy-eyed when it came to recruiting (or maybe I was simply glad for a breath of fresh air), but when the beast turned his evergreen eyes to Romul, everything changed. He stiffened, frighteningly so, and from between his teeth came the foulest of insults. I let the stallion simmer in his own hatred for a short while, my eyes slowing sweeping from Elsa to the greyed phantom of the Basin, and then I held my breath. The anger manifested (oh how it raged), but it never truly came. Instead, I moved forward to capture the man’s attention with my ears tilted forward and my eyes shifting toward a piercing shade of white. “What’s wrong? Scared of a little mutt?

Shortly after, the Unicorn mare from the North proclaimed her desires to depart (I assumed it was simple enough for her to do so when things got hot) and I proffered her a stiff nod. Her eyes lingered on mine for a moment too long and provoked from me a threatening smile. But just as easily as she’d come, she disappeared, while simultaneously throwing half-hearted invitations over her shoulder. Good riddance. “Nice girl that one…” I muttered bitterly before turning back toward Elsa. As an afterthought I glanced back toward the old stallion and paused. I wasn’t quite certain where he’d fit in amongst a plethora of warriors, but I decided to extend the offer nonetheless. “You’re welcome to warm your bones in the Throat… Gods know you need a little sun to thaw that frozen heart.

essetia & romul
@Albrecht @Elsa

◄ Please tag Essetia in all replies!
◄ Force permitted, but no maiming or killing
◄ Pixel @ SongsOfInfinity

Albrecht Posts: 249
Aurora Basin Impersonator atk: 6 | def: 8.5 | dam: 2.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.1hh :: 19 (Orangemoon) HP: 60 | Buff: NOVICE
Strom :: Suma Ball Python :: None Townsen
#9
Albrecht
Too many words, too many faces, too many memories; all swirling around in the space between his ears, demanding attention. Just moments earlier he might have answered the winged mare with bawdy jokes and indecent commentary, sassed the piebald’s warnings, or challenged the bay mare’s mockery, but his wounds are still too fresh and the triggers too exact to be ignored, too hairpin light to shield from provocation.

Wolf stink chokes his airways and he wonders accusingly what these three youths could know of tragedy with their shining coats and filled out forms, their proverbial anchors of home and hearth. Not one of them could be a day over six or seven years old. They were in their prime with entire lives ahead of them and the memories of a warm teat to soothe their dreams. No matter how illogical, he couldn’t help resenting them for their fortunes.

"If you wanted to know my name you should have asked.” Without sarcasm and filthy humor to pad his tone the words come out a startling growl. He rails as the bay mare steps forward, all false smiles and deliberately pricked ears. Blood rises in his veins and his inner thoughts warn that whatever civility might be left in him threatens to unravel, but the usual tropes of responsibility and reputation are distinctly absent. He has no reason to avoid the low road now. "Why yes, in fact, I am scared of the little fuck. Scared he’ll shit and piss all over the place as his kind is like to do and leave the stench of it lingering with me for days.”

He tells himself he’d liked the piebald anyway, that the walking snowflake could bed mares or eunuchs or whatever else it is that suits her fancy and that the big bay bitch could shove her patronizing badger face up her own ass for all he cares, but he’s not entirely unashamed of his actions. It wasn’t all that long ago that he stood a firm believer in chivalry, though it might as well be centuries from this moment.

"Does it look like I fucking run?!” He shouts after Tangere, turning to follow with ears pinned flat against retaliation. He won’t meet the others eyes in passing, but he wonders what emotions they might find there if he did. He’s almost sorry (almost), but what’s his broken heart without defenses and deflections to hold the pieces steady?


//

OOC: I'm sorry he's a jerk, but thanks for threading with me!
The Curmudgeon
Image Credit
           
[Image: 56c616e54affc]Rated M, R, NC-17, AO, 18+, NSFW
Tag dat azz!  @Albrecht
Violence & Magic okay.
Wish - Away - OOC



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