the Rift


[OPEN] There's truth that lives & truth that dies

Tae Posts: 133
Dragon's Throat Alchemist atk: 7.0 | def: 10 | dam: 4.5
Mare :: Pegasus :: 15.2 :: 2 HP: 72.5 |
Mal :: Timber Wolf :: Terrorize & Hel :: Royal Hellhound :: Hellfire Odd
#1

 
[No rush. I just needed them to meet ;-; @Volterra ]

Mal and Tae were hunting. 

It was true that the girl did not actually like the taste of blood. It tasted acrid and metallic on her tongue, much to her displeasure. Something about drinking milk and eating grass struck her as so common place. So lower class. But the meat had twisted her gut painfully when once she tried to eat a squirrel, and the taste lingered on her tongue for days. Clearly her body rejected the notions of her mind, but no matter. She didn't need to eat the things that she killed - not with Mal with her now. 

The small black pup stalked through the dense foliage and Tae followed. Her banded wings were tucked tightly against her flanks so that they would not rustle. Her pale eyes were focused on the small black tail pointing towards her, as the wolf pup silently moved forward. His nose was so much better than her own, and now that his primal and feral thoughts invaded her own, she too was privy to the world of smells that she had previously been ignorant of. She smelled fear, and fat. Even though her stomach had rejected her attempt to eat meat, the scent of something fatty still made her mouth water. The fatter it was, the larger its pelt would be. It would be a fine present for Grusha.

Don't tear it.

The pup's pale golden eyes - only a few shades darker than her own - looked backwards sharply. His small mind went ?????????????????? in confusion. We must preserve the pelt. She responded silently, her voice confident, reassuring. The pup narrowed his eyes to slits, but agreed implicitly. Tae's will was far too strong for him to overrule. 

She felt Mal's eyes lock upon something, and the two pounced at the same time. Tae soared over the black wolf; his teeth locked upon the throat of a fat raccoon, while her hooves slammed down onto its spine, shattering it instantly. As the thrill of murder overwhelmed her system, the magic she had been born with suddenly inflated her body. Suddenly the outer parts of her appearance began to bleed away into silvery smoke - as if she was no more than a ghost being tentatively held together. Her dark body paled and she looked like the spirit of a pegasus accompanying the wolf. 



tae
this was your heart, this swarm of flies
This was once your mouth - this bowl of lies
Image Credits

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
#2


THROW THE BAIT, CATCH THE SHARK, BLEED THE WATER RED
FIFTY WORDS FOR MURDER AND I'M EVERY ONE OF THEM

Through the eyes of his circling dragons, he watches the girl hunt. He watches her kill, as he had at not much older than she currently is. He, however, killed for mercy, or to feed his newborn companion. She kills for pleasure, or so it appears.

He approves. So do his dragons - although to them, the little wolf pup is as much prey as the raccoon it just helped slay. It requires quite a force of will for the stallion to prevent them swooping and devouring the tasty little whelp - for once, they are both in agreement that the young creature would make a delicious meal.

His commands both red and gold to turn their gaze on the filly, the pup's mistress. She is young, still wet from the womb, but beneath the penetrating eyes of the dual dragons, the stallion sees her become ethereal. Like a ghost, she is there and yet not, and his curiosity is piqued further. As a general rule, he has no interest in little girls, not until they become women ripe for him to take as his own. They are useless, lost in dreams of princesses and grandeur, and now he is a man grown he has no need of their company. The one exception is the white hybrid who he 'saved' from drowning, who kept him suitably distracted with her questions one afternoon.

Yet this mini murderess has captured his attention. Any child who can slaughter so easily at such a tender age is most certainly of interest to him - think what she could become when she's of age! He moves through the shadows, an ebony monolith in the labyrinth of trees. With his dragons to lend him an aerial view, he never has to worry about getting lost and wandering the maze of trees for eternity. Vadir alights on a nearby branch, claws digging into the bark and golden scales glimmering as she observes the situation below her with a lazily twitching tail. Her mind hums against Volterra's with a fierce intelligence that belies her age, and her regal head cocks from side to side as she scrutinises the filly and her wolf.

Vérzés, always more forward than his sister, lands upon the leaf-littered ground and scuttles towards the wolf pup. He snarls, his scaled red lips peeling back to expose savagely hooked teeth, whilst his leathery wings flare and draw him to his fullest height. He aims to intimidate, to frighten the fluffy little thing away from the dead raccoon so he can take it for his own - although he can feel Vadir's sharp crimson gaze on the back of his head, and knows he would have to act fast to get away from her before she tried to steal his prize from him.

The beast, meanwhile, ignores the reactions of his dragons and focuses instead on the filly. She's winged, and her lower face bears a white marking that makes the brute wonder if they are related. "So young to be slaughtering the innocent," he croons, fixing her with his feral ruby gaze. "Do you kill to feed your bonded, or simply because it's fun?" And there's no denying that it is fun, and satisfying, and that it lends one a sense of great power. To wield the scythe like the reaper, to command life and death itself...with Gashad's skull still stuck to his face, the earthen giant has an eternal reminder of his crimes, if he could call them that.



@Tae

[ 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 ]




Tae Posts: 133
Dragon's Throat Alchemist atk: 7.0 | def: 10 | dam: 4.5
Mare :: Pegasus :: 15.2 :: 2 HP: 72.5 |
Mal :: Timber Wolf :: Terrorize & Hel :: Royal Hellhound :: Hellfire Odd
#3

 
The dragon lands, and the wolf growls. Mal is no idiot, even for one so young. He knows that the claws and wings of the red beast before him far outweigh the meager weapons at his disposal. And yet, even the short duration he has been bonded to the mandible-marked filly has changed him. He might have been a playful wolf, might have been generous, brave, and altruistic. But her mind was warped and shaped him. His mistress does not fear death, and so neither does he. His white canines are revealed as his dark lips peel back. He lowers himself, as if ready to spring, guarding the carcass. The hackles are raised all along his spine and neck - but Tae does not come to his aid. Instead, she watches with piercing pale eyes, wondering how this extension of herself with fair against something so much more powerful.

A dark ear tilts backwards and Tae finally notices the sounds of Volterra's presence. Her head swivels, and the spark of adrenaline in her system causes her ghostly appearance to intensify, until she is nearly completely see-through. Like the wolf and dragon, Tae immediately recognizes Volterra's strength and physical dominance. Magic hums in her bones, though she doesn't doubt that others likely possess a higher magnitude of strength than she does. The girl knows that she is young, but she is not afraid. Destiny is alight in her limbs and her soul; she knows that she will not die young. She has too much to do.

With a stare that welcomes and yields to Volterra's dominance and yet remains wholly sovereign and unafraid, Tae straights and exhales. As she does, her body begins to solidify, starting from the core and working outwards. 

Do you kill to feed your bonded, or simply because it's fun?

A sleek and mischevious - and one day, sexually charged - smile spreads her bi-coloured lips. The mandible marking creases over her jaw, as if the toothy paint-job she bears is also amused. "Why not both?" Her voice is too big for her body - it sounds too old. It's both a growl and a whisper - and she appears to be both glaring and smiling simultaneously. 

Her pale gaze falls over the skull Volterra wears, to the golden dragon who she's only just now noticed. 

"You have two of them." She observed, her words falling heavily from her lips. Her Father had two companions ... and he was a great ruler. Was the same true of the skull-wearing behemoth? "Do you rule a herd?" She asked pointedly, her gaze narrowing as it shifted back to Volterra. 

tae
this was your heart, this swarm of flies
This was once your mouth - this bowl of lies
Image Credits

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
#4


THROW THE BAIT, CATCH THE SHARK, BLEED THE WATER RED
FIFTY WORDS FOR MURDER AND I'M EVERY ONE OF THEM

To the red dragon's considerable surprise, the wolf pup doesn't submit, cower, or run. He stands his ground, and the ruby's feral eyes narrow. Admirable, if stupid. "Is nom?" Vérzés questions hopefully, tilting his head from side to side and considering the whelp like it's a tasty morsel ripe for devouring. No, comes the stallion's stern command. You will not eat it. Terrorize it, dominate it, but don't kill it. Vérzés deflates slightly, miffed, but quickly redoubles his effort to take the wolf's catch instead. He draws himself up higher, flaring his wings and breathing gently out of his nostrils so that the air in front of him shimmers and turns to ice. Angling his snout - whilst never taking his eyes off the wolf - he huffs a small blast of frost breath onto a nearby flower, turning it into an ice sculpture version of itself. With a swipe of a paw, the dragon shatters the frozen bloom into a thousand pieces, and continues to glare greedily at the wolf. Even if Volterra wasn't mentally bonded to the creature, he'd be able to tell what Vérzés was saying - give up the kill, or that'll happen to you.

Vadir watches the red's futile attempts to dominate the wolf, snorting her derision and choosing instead to lazily preen her wings. One of her calibre hasn't the time for such petty, childish games, and she studiously turns her back on the scene as though the mere sight of Vérzés' antics offends her royal sensibilities.

Volterra, meanwhile, has his attention fully on the filly. She seems to acknowledge him as her superior, without submitting fully - well, she certainly has spunk, he'll give her that, and he raises an eyebrow that can't be seen beneath Gashad's skull. His savage gaze lingers on her as she solidifies, becomes real again, and he marvels at the magic she possesses. It could be useful in battle, if she can become a spirit; a fine, if sneaky, way to avoid an opponent's attacks by making them go right through her. He is unaware, of course, that she only appears translucent, but remains solid.

Why not both? Well, isn't she a creepy little madam? "Why indeed." He smirks, and the skull shifts slightly on his face. The damnable thing might lend him a terrifying air, but it's as uncomfortable as shit, forever chafing the skin on his face and making him sweat horribly. He doesn't try too hard to remove it, though, for fear it will take half his face with it. It can stay where it is for now - it certainly adds to his menacing appearance, and keeps the water out of his eyes when it rains.

When she observes that he has two dragons, he can't help the lurch of pleasure in his heart. He will never get tired of hearing that. Yes, he has two, and isn't it just the best feeling in the world? Vadir is basically a scaled extension of his dick, although she gives an outraged caw at this notion. "I do," he rumbles, almost cheerily. Do you rule a herd? Again he offers a wolfish smirk, half-visible beneath the skull. "Not yet." Oh, he has nefarious plots and plans coming out of his ears, but whilst he might be arrogant he is not so much so that he thinks he could take a herd at his tender age - he is still relatively green on the battlefield, and certainly lacks the maturity to wear a crown. Perhaps in a year, or two years, his day will come, but for now he's content to train and fight and fuck his way through his youth without responsibility. "Your magic is rather impressive, I must say. Who are your parents?" Skulled face, dark magic, wolf companion...she could easily be from Confutatis' side of the family, and whilst that would be damned shame as it'd make her off-limits for any future pursuits, it would make her a worthy ally.



@Tae

[ 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 ]




Tae Posts: 133
Dragon's Throat Alchemist atk: 7.0 | def: 10 | dam: 4.5
Mare :: Pegasus :: 15.2 :: 2 HP: 72.5 |
Mal :: Timber Wolf :: Terrorize & Hel :: Royal Hellhound :: Hellfire Odd
#5

 
Mal watches with a predatory interest as Verzes seemingly enlarges himself, and demonstrates his abilities. The pale-eyed pup has never seen frost or snow before, and so at first the display of turning the foliage to a crystalline and shiny material is unimpressive. It smells blue to his nose, and cold, but the pup fails to grasp the actual extent of what it is the dragon has done. It is only as his paw shatters through the flower that Mal's mind is able to comprehend what has happened. He cowers slightly - his tail tucking tentatively between his legs, wagging slightly. He knows - just as Tae does - that this beast is more powerful than he is. And yet ... yet the urge, the brazen need to prove himself the victor, compels him to remain not-fully prone. He has yeilded, but not all the way. His mind - in dire need to an ally - reaches for Tae. Who, without diverting her gaze from Volterra, intercedes.

The carcass suddenly rises into the air, as if imbued with new life. It's paws flail wildly, throwing around bits of the frost-shattered flower. Tae's magic allows the creature to magically rise into the air, and the limbs of the raccoon flutter like wings, suggesting that this after-death flight is somehow all of its own choosing. 

Not yet

"Well, keep your eyes off of the Dragon's Throat." Her words sound like a warning - though among comrades or equals, rather than an or else warning. Yet in her wolfish and devious smile there seems to be a hint of that as well. His next question allows her to segue easily into a justification for her statement, and she takes advantage of it quickly. 

"Gaucho the Wildfire and Ampere the Mother of Companions." Her words are factual, with only a hint of pride intermingled therein. She knows her parents are legends - it would be foolish of her to pretend that her lineage and heritage will have no bearing upon who she will become. Her pages in the history books are already marred with their blood and sweat, but she knows the bulk of those pages are still left to her to fill out. And fill them out she shall. "The Dragon's Throat will be mine one day. Mine and my twin's." Her words sounded prophetic and self-assured, especially for one so small. Tae had a lot of growing to do, but she would always remain small and lithe, rather than large and impressive as Volterra was. Still, that was alright with her. Her enemies would find her unassuming and think her weak. But she was anything but.


tae
this was your heart, this swarm of flies
This was once your mouth - this bowl of lies
Image Credits

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
#6


THROW THE BAIT, CATCH THE SHARK, BLEED THE WATER RED
FIFTY WORDS FOR MURDER AND I'M EVERY ONE OF THEM

As the wolf's tail descends beneath his legs, the red dragon's eyes gleam with the sweet scent of victory. He moves closer, jaws opening, ready to seize the raccoon and snatch it away from its killer, when suddenly it lurches into life and soars into the air. With an outraged bellow, Vérzés fans his wings and circles the floating corpse, painfully confused. "???" is all Volterra can hear in his mind as the crimson beast continues his circling, desperately trying to fathom how the carcass has suddenly jumped back into life.

Volterra, in contrast, gives a ground-shaking guffaw of amusement at his dragon's bemused behaviour. His greedy gaze admires the dancing corpse, picturing all the useful things that could be done with such a magic. Because it's obvious to him that the filly is the one controlling the carcass - it's the only logical explanation. "Nice," he rumbles, gaze following the racoon's posthumous dance. It reminds him of Rikyn's magic, except the unicorn could control living bodies whereas this - he assumes - is limited to the dead. Both branches of dark magic hold a morbid curiosity for the leviathan, who would love to control life and death itself and be able to use carcasses as his foul minions. Yet his powers are intrinsically tied to the earth itself, and it is the earth he has chosen to master.

She warns him from the Dragon's Throat, and again that sculpted brow lifts beneath his skull-mask. The Throat are already in his bad books for taking his mother from him, and whilst he knows next to nothing about them or their leaders, he has filed away their crime for the future. Stealing Confutatis had placed one small mark against the card of the Throat, and, indeed, when it comes time for him to seize a crown, he'd be lying if he said he hadn't considered them as an option. But he says none of this to the girl - he simply smiles a wolf's smile and tears his gaze from the dancing raccoon to look back at her. "We'll see." Who knows what will change between now and then? Another herd might irk him so much that they become the outstanding candidate for his wrath.

She gives her parents' names, and he files them away. The fact they both have two names shows that they have accomplished much within these lands, but save for the distant memory of the antlered brute who stole Mother, Volterra cannot place faces to names. The girl states that she and her twin will rule the Throat, and the beast's ears pivot with nostalgic interest. How he had thought the same when he and Nymeria were children! Now....now he thinks they would clash over everything, compromising the welfare of the herd. "A twin, hmm?" He scrutinises her, wondering if this twin is the Volterra to her Nymeria, a colt who dwarfs her in stature but is by far her intellectual inferior. "Give it a few years, dear girl. You might find that you no longer want to rule alongside your twin, that you fight like cat and dog when you're together." And pain flashes momentarily across his masked face.



@Tae

[ 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 ]




Tae Posts: 133
Dragon's Throat Alchemist atk: 7.0 | def: 10 | dam: 4.5
Mare :: Pegasus :: 15.2 :: 2 HP: 72.5 |
Mal :: Timber Wolf :: Terrorize & Hel :: Royal Hellhound :: Hellfire Odd
#7

 
Were it the case that the small mandible-marked filly could peer into Volterra's brutish skull, she might have remarked on his poor reasoning. After all, domination on such a magnitude as taking of a herd should not be based on the small wounds of the past. It was about strategy, and if he was so short sighted that his gaze was limited by those who had bothered him, then he would amount to nothing. Then again if she could see into his mind and know that it was her Father who had 'slighted' him, she would have had a different reaction entirely. But as it was, she knew none of this. Instead, her scrupulous pale eyes merely scanned the monoliths face for any discernible indication of what he was in fact thinking, but came up empty.

Instead, she takes his small offering of praise at her magic, and allows the carcass to fall to the ground at Verzes clawed feet, much to the dismay of Mal. Strategy, small one. she growls into his mind as he shoots her a look of utter injustice and dismay.

Tae's small ears perk forward as the monochromatic giant speaks of the possibility of fighting with her twin. Fighting with Grusha? It was impossible. The two were cut from the same cloth - albeit Grusha was cut from a far larger swath of cloth - but the same cloth, just the same. Their magic worked together, in harmony. If he thought the mild moving of a carcass was something to behold, he ought to see what the twins could do together.

"Never." She breathed, her voice far too serious for one so small and young, but everything about her posture and appearance seemed to punctuate her point. "Are you speaking from experience?" She added after a moment, never one to completely ignore the wisdom of others. If the chromatic beast did indeed have a twin that he now fought with ... that certainly didn't seal Grusha and Tae's fate. But it might serve as a warning..


tae
this was your heart, this swarm of flies
This was once your mouth - this bowl of lies
Image Credits

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
#8


THROW THE BAIT, CATCH THE SHARK, BLEED THE WATER RED
FIFTY WORDS FOR MURDER AND I'M EVERY ONE OF THEM

The carcass falls at the red's feet, and his gluttonous eyes light up. Volterra, suspecting a trap where the single-minded dragon cannot, gives Vérzés a mental nudge of warning. "I wouldn't." But the red, with his prize so tantalisingly close, reaches out his claws to try and snatch the carcass up and pull it close to him, greed radiating like an aura from his crimson form.

The young stud looks back to Tae. Never, she says, and he smiles a humourless, tight smile. He pictures himself at that tender age; inseperable from Nymeria, devoted to her. If some self-proclaimed wise stranger had tried to tell him that he would one day grow apart from her, he'd have kicked them in the face. Not a chance, he'd have spat. We're two sides of the same rock, we're stronger than you know, we're one soul in two bodies. And indeed, for a long time, that had been the case. They'd survived each other bonding to a dragon - and Volterra can vividly remember how jealous, how worried, he'd been when his sister's black hatched - they'd survived their mother being stolen when they were mere children, they'd survived the fact that they'd never had a father figure in their life and that their minds had been mouldable dough for the World Eater to indoctrinate.

And then the cracks had started to show.

He still can't quite recall how it happened. He just remembers that day at the Endless Blue, an argument bursting from the embers of nothing and rising, phoenixlike, into the most ill-tempered row they'd ever had. It had been over their mother's potential rescue, he thinks. Now...now they go weeks, months, without contact. Now he misses her like he'd miss his heart if it was ever ripped, still beating, from his chest. "You could say that." His tail lashes, bad-tempered, against his flanks, and in the tree the golden dragon tilts her proud head questioningly. She, unlike the red, doesn't know the days when he and Nymeria were inseperable - their divide began long before he found her egg, but escalated to a crescendo that fateful day when he fought wolves to claim her ovoid home as his own. "I have a twin sister. When I was your age, we were inseperable, and we both had delusions of grandeur. We thought we would grow old by each other's side and rule together, an empire at our hooves and the bones of our crushed enemies at our backs. How wrong we were." The set of his jaw is grim, harsh, tight beneath the skull he wears. Nymeria doesn't even know he's killed. She doesn't know that some creature tried to kill him until he got the better of them - time was, she'd have been right there beside him, spilling blood.

Those halcyon days are long gone. Nowadays, Nymeria schemes and plots without him, and he fights and kills without her. Whilst he is gaining experience on the battlefield and indulging his desires in any mare he can find, she is trying to overthrow their aunt for no discernible reason, and that's just the plots he knows of. "Now, I am lucky if I see her once a month. It'll be nigh on impossible to rule with her when we are as good as strangers." Bitterness clouds his voice and features. "Enjoy the closeness you have with your twin, girl. You never know when the Gods will conspire to snatch it away."



@Tae

[ 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 ]




Ampere The Mother of Companions Posts: 719
Dragon's Throat Sultana atk: 9 | def: 11 | dam: 4.5
Mare :: Pegasus :: 14 hh :: 6 years HP: 73 | Buff: DANCE
Kygo :: Green Cheek Conure :: None Blu
#9
WINDOW SEAT TO CHAOS OVERLOAD


"TAE!"

Her voice cut sharply against the jungle as she descended from the boughs of a nearby tree. Vines shook and rattled like angry snakes as her momentum shoved the tree's branch, leaves jostled free like green snow. Her hooves marked the ground where she landed, the close quarters granting her wings little use, but she'd still held them open to let herself glide down. They shuddered now, her feathers rattling against each other as she held the appendages partially folded at her sides, an unintentional attempt at looking more imposing.

She stalked towards her daughter, features pulled taut in displeasure, her teeth a pearly gleam in the freckled light of the overgrown maze. "Get home, NOW!" her words were tight as she pushed them through her teeth, ending with a loud, accentuated click that vibrated her jaw. Her head snaked forward towards the rump of her girl, teeth ready to give her a push if she balked.

It hadn't taken her long to notice one of her young daughters had gone missing. Feusohm was happy to lead her towards Tae's location. Running off was bad enough, but running off and taking to such a large brute of a stallion, did she want to be murdered (by him or Ampere)?
Though she kept most of her attention on her daughter, she afforded Volterra a hard glare, the edge of her steely gaze shifting just enough to hold him in her sights. He towered well over her, but her posture remained tall and undaunted, her disposition a clear indication that she didn't give two fucks about him, not when it came to her daughter. Piss off! she seemed to insinuate.


A M P E R E

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Magic or force permitted any time, aside from death.


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