the Rift

where the red birds fly [ Mortuus Nox v. Rikyn Spar ]

Rikyn the Puppeteer Posts: 549
Aurora Basin Lord atk: 7.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 4.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.3 :: 4 HP: 70 | Buff: SWIFT
Duir :: Royal Cerndyr :: Earth Spirit Bunnie

Their children will learn to hope for a Caesar.

My spirit, for once, was high and well today, riding the winter winds cresting overhead, super chilled by the mammoth peaks which surround the side trails of my youth.  Bouncy, the trot with which I travel is careless, the sort of jaunt one uses when they are busy going no where, and taking full delight in the scenery they pass, my tail falling behind me and etching a strange, rippling trail across the twin moon divots of my hooves.  Despite the numerous fights I’ve managed to find since I’ve come home, to Helovia, my body keeps healing – sometimes with help, sometimes not - but until now, I don’t think I’ve ever once thought of how fortunate I am to have not been crippled by now.
From Volterra’s hooves to Elsa’s outrage, I am one lucky son of a bitch.
The thought makes a smile cross my face as I half slide, half bound down a slick hillock, my hind legs severing the powdery white, and revealing the yellowed grass below, shining in the high overhead sun; bitch is right, I almost laugh out loud, snorting with good humor as I pause at the base of the hill to look about me.  As I’ve done a lot lately, I’ve let the whims of my heart take me where they will, and I begin to let it do so again, when something catches my eye…
Crescent hoof prints cross the wilds.
It means one of two things: it is a unicorn like my mother, carrying the semblance of an equine but for the crown they wear, walking patrols for the Basin, which is all well and good as far as I’m concerned (a strange defensiveness tightening about my heart for the land of my birth – I owe them nothing, but I’d fight their foes in this snow for them despite the fact that I no longer feel at home there, despite the bitterness I’ve placed upon the mountains, rather than the woman I’d mocked seconds ago).  The second option is that it is an infiltrator.
My golden eyes become hostile slits as I approach the divots in the snow, nostrils broadening to take in the smell of masculine musk, pine, and dirt from many trails, old by some matter of half a day.  The eager smile that had laced my lips at the discovery of a challenge fades into a disgruntled frown at the thought of how very long and droll the venture to find this stranger will be.
It would be an old trail, undisturbed for the most part, the clouds having only been chased away to reveal and endlessly blue heaven for the last hour or so, leaving behind only the cold wind that barely veiled the intense heat of the sun beating down against my dark figure, rather than the newly imprinted trail of some champion or another.  Still, I suppose it is something to do, I think as I manage to get over the sweeping assault of frustration and disappointment that takes me, looking up to follow the stranger’s path into a nearby copse of pine, winding through the cleared beast trails, angling towards the hidden crevice in the peaks surrounding the Basin.
I don’t pick back up my trot – instead, it’s a slow walk, like whoever left these, each of my cloven hooves pressing down dominantly and perfectly centered within the crescents his blunt tools had left behind.
0/3 | 572
[ You are welcome to set the precise scene where ever Mortuus finds him!  The weather is delightfully clear and sunny with an average speed, cold wind. ]

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Force/violence is allowed to be used on Rikyn permitted it does not permanently maim or kill him (PM me!).

Mortuus Nox Posts: 187
Aurora Basin Time Mender atk: 3.5 | def: 10 | dam: 7
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 15.2 :: Immortal HP: 66.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Mortuus Nox
Your fears have just become all too real, for the Devil at the cross road wants to make a Deal

Cold eyes watched the world swirl and manifest around the demonic stallion. The shadows whipped around him like a haunting wind from hell. His pelt danced with dark creature silhouettes as his muscles extended and contracted. He was a hell bound creature that still breathed the sweet air of life. Nox never took this gift for granted, he loved seeing the light of day. Cracked hooves made a small marks in the cold winter’s snow. The ghostly basin stallion searched his way through the paths of deer and other small animal trails. Nox liked to go off the beaten path, and away from looking eyes.

The warm sun glistened on his onyx pelt as he came to a halt. His body did not dare to move a step further, he felt like he was being stalked. The black stallion was paranoid as ears flicked back to listen. Faint steps were heard down the trails behind him. Nox grumbled as he flicked the thick tangled tresses of his tail with an annoyed force. He waited for this creature to show its face. He stood at a cross way of two paths like the devil waiting for a deal. Large horns towered over his skull, reaching for the heavens. One glimmered with the green emerald that he so proudly wore on his left horn. He will always remember that day, and that fight. Cold gray eyes watched the world around him remembering the moment he slaughtered the stallion. The stallion that ruined his whole world, and the one who stole his woman. An angered snort flew from his nostrils as his head flung to see who was stalking him.

Stone eyes say a stallion stepping behind him. Nox turned to face this creature with a soft smirk. Does this beat think that he is better than him? Cold eyes saw the stallion picking his way to step right where Nox had went before him. Thick tail tresses flicked annoyed as he kept on watching the gold marked stallion. He came closer and closer until they were only a few feet from each other. The demonic crown tilted slightly to the right narrowing his eyes. Cracked hooves stood firmly planted at the cross road, making the beast look like a demon from hell.

The hell bound stallion watched, then he spoke with deep Latin accented words. "Salve what are you doing on this fine morning? I see you have placed your young hooves in my foot prints as you walk. Is there a reason to that iuvenum hircorum?" I am Mortuus Nox" His deep voice chuckled slightly as he continued "I am extremely bored on this beautiful day, and it is a shame. How about we have a little pugna or you would say Fight. To entertain and sharpen our skills. "" Cold eyes sharpened as he narrowed his gaze on the young stallion. His voice flickered from a friendlier tone, to a cold harsh demonic one. His head tilted slightly to the side waiting on his answer. "I will even let you start things off."" He chuckled lightly with a satanic roar from his chest. Then Nox felt the slow tensing of muscles, and the adrenaline started to coarse through his veins. The demonic stallion was ready for a good fight, to well “Sharpen” his skills.

"Talking here""

-Salve:: Hello
- iuvenum hircorum:: young buck


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Please tag Mortuus Nox in all posts
magic & permanent injury is permitted excluding death.

Rikyn the Puppeteer Posts: 549
Aurora Basin Lord atk: 7.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 4.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.3 :: 4 HP: 70 | Buff: SWIFT
Duir :: Royal Cerndyr :: Earth Spirit Bunnie

Their children will learn to hope for a Caesar.

I admit I get sort of caught up in putting my hooves in the divots.

When I look up, there is a shorter, darker figure on the path ahead of me, his horns twins atop his head. A small part of me exhales in relief, thankful that it’s a unicorn and not some threat to the mountain, but the larger parts of me raise my crown in arrogance, disliking the narrowed expression and tilted crown of the oblique stag. A small snort escapes my nostrils.

I’ve met his sort before. The Basin is full of them.

Zikar-Sin’s moony eyes swim through my thoughts, and a white woman cackles devilishly, a black cross staining her cheek, mother nervous at her side; whoever I’ve decided to track isn’t quite right in his head (but are any of us?). I chase memories away to listen to his words – flavored, with a thick, warm accent that doesn’t match the cold expression lining his features – his name, Mortuus Nox, and a challenge striking the air.

He doesn’t word it as much, but there are little hints that slowly edge my ears back as he says them. Words like, “young hooves,” and “I will even let you start things off.” My nod of consent is violent, my chin almost smacking against the smooth musculature of my chest.

"My name is Rikyn," I rumble, the tenor notes of my voice highlighted with a stark tension, the desire to show him how very entertaining this little whatever the fuck he called me can be, and I am Prince of this mountain, you nobody.

My left shoulder is still marked with a mostly healed scab from my Edge adventure, and so I lead with my right, eager to test the dual strike of the man who dares call me little. I feel like I tower over him as I lunge, though really it’s only a handful of inches that differs in our heights. Sweeping forward through the snow in an explosion of white powder and youth, I of how I’ll have to remember to aim low, having battled comparatively similar or taller opponents as of late, and used to such angles (even Furen, all the way in the Nightwalk, had been larger than me). I try to keep to his right side, my left, the signature flash of my golden horn reaching out in hope to land a strike along his right shoulder.

I continue onwards, down what I hope is the length of him. I attempt to strike two more times, the tip of my blade aimed to draw blood, rather than just smack, if its aim winds up being true. I hope it lacerates the smooth velvet along his back, along his ribs, a smile curling my lips; the absence of pain and the rush of blood in these first few steps of a battle are always so invigorating to me, almost hot and delightful enough to make me forget that he’d insulted me, before he’d even learned who I was.


1/3 :: 508 words

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Force/violence is allowed to be used on Rikyn permitted it does not permanently maim or kill him (PM me!).

Jen Posts: 16
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Mare :: Other :: 14.3 hh :: 21
Mortuus Nox has failed to post after more than three weeks. .5 VP to Rikyn.

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