the Rift


Bird with a Broken Neck [Questing: Coris]

Prometheus Posts: 75
Up For Adoption atk: 4 | def: 7 | dam: 4.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 8.2 / 16.3 :: 4 months / 6 years [Immortal] HP: 60.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Pyr :: Siberian Tiger :: Hypnotize & Flaming Touch Adoptable
#1
I wander through the edge, recalling my younger days here when you were but a cub and I was a mere shadow of what I am now. My visit with Cineviam here had been far from fateful, and I could hardly remember it now. What was there to remember other than whispers of supremacies and schemes in this herd of the living. Perhaps it is death that brings me wisdom, for having no hold on life makes less fearful that I will lose it, but whatever it may be, I know I stand above the many here who fail to understand a concept of equality. I see it now differently than I may have ever before.

In life, all are equal. They breathe and need, they love and fear. It is only in death that the subtle similarities fade and make way for the vast differences in the creatures here. It is the look in the eyes as that cleft hoof strikes down towards the face, the final thought running through the mind, that makes one entirely unique. And now I cheat the system; I continue to think, to look, even after death. I am the only difference in this pitiful world, the only creature who is truly unique when placed beside any other. Horns and wings have no effect on life; it is only in death that such creatures may at last be sorted into their respective realms.

Heaven or Hell, the two realms of myth. Some myth, anyway. In all my time here I've still found it hard to decipher the language of the gods and the spell they have on so many of these mortals. If the divide is so clear, then why, how, do I exist? Am I merely a product of mercy and pity? If so, I've no desire to continue on as I do.

Strike me down, for unless I am my own, I am nothing at all! You seem to care less, to stalk and pick your way across the rocks in the shadow of the cliff and seek out the source of the scent of blood, but I know better. I know there is a grander meaning than this, than searching for the next meal, seeking out that familiar sensation of tearing flesh from bone. Still, if I am to find it, am I really one to refuse? Do I not suffer from the same burden as any other- am I not weighted by instinct just as you are worn down by the chains I've crafted for you?

The thought that perhaps it does not matter crosses my mind, and I turn my focus to the task at hand. I push aside pebbles that threaten to embed themselves in the tender, rotting flesh around my frayed, dull hooves with a gentle touch of my nose, and take in the scents around me with active nostrils that flare with every breath. My ears perk, and beside me you approach, letting your fur graze my hide ever so slightly as you purr with contentedness and the satisfaction of your success. You were right to lead us here- death is in the air.





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Coris Posts: N/A
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#2


[beautiful post ;-;]

There's that saying about wind being so fierce it could cut, but trees cut a hell of a lot more. Coris felt the branches whipping around him, the stout bark and decaying leaves like teeth yanking out hair and hide as he breezed past. A growl of annoyance gurgled in his throat, but Coris grit his teeth and bared onward - he was too close now to give up because of a few twig-cuts.

Now, now, now, now, now!

He chanted in his head as hind feet flashed in front of him. His breath hitched in his chest for a moment, anticipation nearly bulging out the backs of his white-rimmed eyes as adrenaline threatened to burst his heart with its fevered pace. In the blink of an eye everything would change - succeed or fail.

The twitch came. His eyelid began to fall, lashes swooping down like a wing.
A wing.
Wing beats drove the air into submission. A beak split, wicked in design and intent. The graceful body tilted back, feathers brushing leaves as feet struck out with curling talons.
Two screams erupted. One rose with a wail of despair while the other shook the forest in triumph.

His lashes lifted, the world jumping back into sight. In that meager moment it had changed.

A grin severed the scarred muzzle of the stallion as limbs and hooves jerked to a rough halt. The leather against his back flopped with the abrupt shift in movement. He could feel the binds press against his flesh, rough and smooth all at once. Coris would have relished in that kiss of skin on skin, but his eyes were alight with a new passion.

"SUCCESS!" Coris bellowed. Excitement at this first cooperative hunt with Venati whirled through him, sending his body to rise swiftly in a rear and strike out like a fist pump. The falcon on the ground, still tangled up in the rabbit, screeched in an arguably cocky manner. "Come on, there's more where that came from." Coris rumbled as his frame rested back on the earth. He motioned with a jerk of his head towards his back, to which Venati clacked his beak knowingly. With an awkward series of hops and dust-swirling flutters the falcon managed to clamber onto the makeshift perch of leather. Coris would have to do something about that before the bird ruined his craftstudship...

Together they pressed into the forest, although they broke the clearing sooner than Coris expected, still being unfamiliar with this new home. In the midst of talking, he paused in speech and course when sighting the bizarre duo ahead of them.
"...n't eat it yet, I only need the pelt so you can 'ave all tha bloody meat, but ya need to be gentle like with that dagger else you'll ruin it. And anot-"

Coris halted so suddenly Venati's wings flared out for balance, momentarily making Coris seem like a pathetic pegasus. "What?"
Coris muttered more to himself, or maybe the wind, than to the stranger. Before him stood a foal in a state of decomposition if he ever saw it, and yet it stood upright and strong. That along would have had Coris double guessing what greens he ate here in the Edge, but the appearance of a tiger, whole in body it seemed, brushing affectionately against the molding creature had Coris dumbfounded. His imagination certainly could play with the fancies of dead things the likes of which Prometheus regaled, but he had no reason to dream up a tiger. Not to mention the aroma - it was so pungent. Dealing mostly with fresh kills Coris would not often cross the odor of rot, though he recognized it certainly.

Intrigued and feeling mildly entranced, the dusky stallion approached the odd pair with a certain pace. Dream or not, he wanted to inspect this creature further.

Prometheus Posts: 75
Up For Adoption atk: 4 | def: 7 | dam: 4.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 8.2 / 16.3 :: 4 months / 6 years [Immortal] HP: 60.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Pyr :: Siberian Tiger :: Hypnotize & Flaming Touch Adoptable
#3
The curious mutter skips across the cold cliff wind and instantly I lift my crown to face the speaker. There is decidedly nothing dead about him, save, perhaps, for the pelts of kills slung across his back. I feel no respect; for some reason he seems young. Perhaps it is his lack of education on the manner of magic that makes him seem so foolish to me. Has he not seen the undead before, has he never walked the bank of the spectral marsh and observed the afterlife? Surely it cannot be me alone who does this. I allow him no slack, he is judged harshly and as a result my eyes stiffen and squint.

I am alone in so many other aspects of my life, how is it possible that I can continue to be viewed in this manner? I am old now, older than than I have ever felt, and yet the insistence of the many that I am to be treated as a child, understood as a new creation, is commonplace. I am to live forever, a god among mortals... and yet they consider me pitiful. Interesting.

Violence arises within me, heating the depths of my soul and forcing my hooves, cloven and chipped, to lift and strike against the stone beneath. You lean closer to me, perhaps seeking comfort in the strangers and revealing to me that you are what I believe; no more than a coward. Both of us know that this is not the case, that in truth you are stronger and more loyal than I. I have seen you put yourself in the face of danger for my sake alone, watched you suffer under the crushing weight of my chains without complaint. To deny you know... what sort of cruelty would that be?

But I cannot bring myself to accept the affection. You walk from my side and approach the pair before us, the leather clad stallion and the falcon on his back, but your touch lingers. At the thought of it I quiver and find it difficult to stand- any mention of it would unleash the wild fury slowly gathering in my tattered breast. I watch with barely contained emotion as your tail lifts and twitches, as your eyes focus on the stallion before us. I recognize the stance, one I have seen so many times before, and yet I cannot bear to see it today.

With ease I summon the seer's fire. The chains cradling you heat and burn fur, and you are left stolidly clenching a killer's teeth and suppressing a cry of pain. I surpass you in body and mind, simply not in heart. But of what use is a beating heart, a feeling heart? What could such a thing possibly do to aid the dead?

I sense the eyes of the jester upon me and instantaneously my gaze is lifted to meet his again. My faded red hooves pick across the earth and my eyes, pale, sickly, attempt to haunt his vision. I wonder if he understands the validity of my presence, sees me as an illusion or a monster come to life. I draw closer still, likely suffocating him with the scent of the hanging, decomposing flesh that is draped across my skeleton. Behind me I hear your whimpers, now uncontainable, but I do not relent. I will never relent. My focus rests on the stallion before me, coated in death yet apparently still unable to grasp the concept. In a shimmering moment my coat is an undisturbed red and white, my horn reaches higher and my tail appears as a magnificent whip. I am more powerful than he, with the potential for life and death both at my disposal. What has he, other than a dumfounded look upon his expression?

I find myself once more scoffing at mortality, and the disdain for it pulls the chain tighter before cooling it rapidly. I have come looking for death, and I stand here now it's representative. But why, I consider with a glance back to my suffering shadow, "why have they come?"


[thank you, yours as well <3]


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Coris Posts: N/A
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#4


The strange encounter only further proves to be bizarre. Coris more and more doubts the sincerity of this being reality, which can only mean his successful kill with Venati was all a fantasy as well. This depresses him most of all.

Anxious to know what this dream has in store he keeps moving forward, even with the striped cat striding just as eagerly towards him. The tail twitches, a signal to strike? Coris halts, muscles tensing and his head beginning to dip, but there is little need. Heated chains whip forth and ensnare the cat with a hiss. Coris starts at this, his head rising and heartbeat fluctuating like a delicate bird trapped under his skin. He widens his stance as though to brace and demands Venati leave. The bird flutters into the sky with a rebuking screech, equally unsettled by this display.

Dream or not, Coris didn't intend on either of them dying.

The walking corpse that controls tiger and fire then shimmers and shifts. Gone is the pale bone and the frayed sinew. Gone is the revolting aroma and the maggot mottled muscle. Coris tilts his head to regard this shift of appearance, noting too that the colt has been replaced by a mature stallion. Fully immersed in fantasy land by now, the hunter is forced to laugh.

"Oh Nightmares, what little she-devils of the night, no?" A silly grin splits the bearded muzzle of the stallion. Ears flick to attention as Prometheus asks a senseless question, which only makes the situation even more hilarious. Shoulder rise and fall in a shrug, though Coris will play along. "Why does anyone?"

Ahead Venati coasts on the breeze, her shadow a speck of black as it circles them on the ground. A strong urgency flares in the back of Coris' mind as the bird hopelessly tries to communicate that the child and cat are as real as anything else.

Prometheus Posts: 75
Up For Adoption atk: 4 | def: 7 | dam: 4.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 8.2 / 16.3 :: 4 months / 6 years [Immortal] HP: 60.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Pyr :: Siberian Tiger :: Hypnotize & Flaming Touch Adoptable
#5

The unicorn before us speaks in the same riddles as I. I can sense you drawing closer to him as if comforted by the familiarity of solely his pattern of speech. You are a fool to think that he who speaks as I is to be trusted. You are a fool to even trust me. Do I not render you weak and lash you with chains forged of my own complex denial? It is unfair that I treat you this way, that my love for you has reared its ugly head and transformed into torture. Why do you stay by my side, why do you insist on loving me so unconditionally even when I tear you down?

Perhaps that is why I cannot look you in the eye most days- perhaps that is why you do not sleep beside me, but pace on the chain that I solder too tautly to a tree to allow you to even rest upon your haunches. To lower yourself would be to choke yourself, and thus each night while I rest and pretend to sleep, you pace. It had never occurred to me until this moment that even freed, you would lie awake at my side to protect me. The thought of such loyalty sickens me.

I find myself turning from the stranger even as you draw closer, and my staggering, halting gait leads me farther from the scene and towards the direction of the dead. "For the dead, of course," I answer reluctantly and sternly, as if I've just corrected him after he has given me the wrong answer to a very simple question. I turn away from the stallion, unable to find him interesting any longer. You, however, linger until I call you back with a sharp command. "Pyr!" I spit angrily, longing for you to betray me, yet hating you for ever leaving my side. Even I cannot fathom my expectation for your actions. I stay close by to the stranger, leather clad unicorn, but my attention is no longer focused upon him. I begin now to overturn rocks and kick up dust as I search for the remains that you have supposedly led me to.


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Coris Posts: N/A
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#6


It is the feline that has the stallion's attention now. Venati is crying overhead, insistent, but Coris does not heed him. His eyes are set on the striped cat - a beautiful coat really. It would make a nice blanket, Frostfall is approaching after all and Coris has seen some brutal ones in his lifetime.

The voice of the stallion calls him away from the entrancing eyes of the tiger. The noise is sharp and it rings like a bell in Coris' ears. He blinks as though awakened from a trance, but it is only clarity that spreads across him, no absence of witchcraft. He recalls now the statement spoken before the command. His beard twitches as his lips smile, coy and cruel.

"Isn't that you?"
Venati alights upon the stallion's leather laden withers, wings ruffling before placating along his backside. Nervously he picks at the leather with his beak, hunter's eyes wary of the larger predator ahead. Coris hopes to soothe him, but their bond is weak yet and their emotions conflict rather than merge.

"You won't find them under that rock," Coris drawls, unimpressed by the lack of wit displayed by one so previously witty. He tilts his head, leather shifting like a whisper on his body. "You craft?" he queries, remembering the chains. "Metal."

Coris strides forward now, no longer afraid of this strange bones-but no bones, metalsmith with a punished cat. He may have retained the fear except for Prometheus' complete lack of interest in him. Truthfully it wounded the stallion who took great delight in finding a fellow crafter, though it was not unlike them to be antisocial. Though, this one did not seem truly passionate - he was different.

"But not born into it, am I right?" He tilts his head as if studying a new animal's corpse in which he must figure the cleanest and most efficient way of skinning. He's focused and dry, all sense of empathy fled from him. "What would a metal smith want with bodies, does your cat not bring you enough?"

Here his gaze flicks back to the cat. He is reminded of the words of the Earth God - here is a terrestrial companion, though it seems more a slave. Yet its claws are sheathed and its eyes, wounded rather than furious. It is a servitude of some fucked up love. Coris drags his gaze away. The cat is important, but minor. This stranger is the true potential here and Coris must dig into his core, or at the very least grab his attention.

Prometheus Posts: 75
Up For Adoption atk: 4 | def: 7 | dam: 4.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 8.2 / 16.3 :: 4 months / 6 years [Immortal] HP: 60.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Pyr :: Siberian Tiger :: Hypnotize & Flaming Touch Adoptable
#7


He never stops talking. The incessant chatter would drive me mad were I not already such a thing. I compel you to follow me further even when your natural inclination is to turn to the stranger in response. I tug at the chains surrounding you and hiss your name into the silence, forcing you to follow. As he continues to speak to no one in particular, I continue to sift through bodies and stones in search of one in particular, but the search is fruitless. The stranger has no intention of helping, it seems, which normally I would prefer. This time, however, I wonder if he might be of some use. He appears to be a native of this herdland, I can see it in the way that he walks. Surely he would know the pattern of the earth and shadow at the base of this cliff better than I?

But no, he stands still, stating the obvious. My metal seeps up from cracks in the earth and oozes towards the stallion silently and stealthily, bubbling with the heat of the seer's fire that runs within it. As my anger rises so does the temperature of the lead- so quickens the pace at which it runs towards the unicorn. I do not give him the satisfaction of an answer. Yes, I am dead-what a clever observation. Of course I craft, is it not clear? Certainly I was not born into the trade- unlike the fool before him, I do not adorn myself with trinkets and pointless artifacts. As for my need for a corpse, well... I suppose he has no way of knowing that one.

"I seek the bones of the fallen: Irc," I spit out my reply and the metal begins to hiss and leap from its place mere paces away from the stranger. You cannot help but turn at the sound- you know it too well, you fear it. The stinging bite of metal and the heat of the seers fire has haunted you your every waking hour, how could you ignore it now? But you regret the action instantly, for once your head faces anywhere but the piles of rocks around us, the chains tighten their grip. You cry out in pain this time- I have worn you too thin, and pulled too tightly on the chains wrapping your flank. You will feel the bruising on your ribs for days, and the pain will haunt you just as I. I cannot fathom the pain, having not felt such a thing for many seasons, having never remembered it. The only pain I feel is of the heart, and that, that... that is all your fault.

In some twisted way I consider this my revenge for your love; for my own. There is no such thing as fairness in this world, why should I make you think there is? Dwelling on the thought brings me only pain and hatred, and so I turn back to the unicorn, hoping he might dull some of the emotion. The metal at his feet roils and tosses up, bearing its head like a snake before striking down at the earth around the stranger's hooves and threatening to seal him there. He will have to move quickly to evade it, I think with a smug grin of satisfaction. Let him feel the burn of the metal on his flesh, let him feel trapped as it hold him tight to the earth. "You wouldn't happen to know how he met his end," I begin threateningly, my voice a mere whisper, the vision of bones and rotting flesh appearing faintly beneath a healthy coat, "would you?"




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Coris Posts: N/A
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#8


He does not answer any but the last. It comes of no surprise to the stallion, although it doesn't make him any happier about it. He takes the silence as confirmation of all the previous however, grunting in his own reluctant way to provide answers. At least he's got the other intrigued, or at least bored, either way the stranger's focus is set and Coris' lips lift.

Metal writhes from the earth like grotesque worms. Coris sneers at it, muscles balled as he prepares himself to flee - this crafter is surely mad. The cat cries out in agony and Coris finds his attention shifted there instead. A thing akin to sadness streaks through his gaze before passing, like a comet, as he regards this strange relationship. He may kill the living and often the furred, but he is swift and merciful. Rarely do they scream to such an extent as this poor animal. It makes him uncomfortable.

The familiar spitting of hot metal has Coris' gaze snapping down, reluctant as he is to take it off the odd duo. He sees just in time as the metal whips up. Too slow he shies away, one chain coiling around his left fetlock with a cloud of steam as hair is snared in the heat. Teeth grit as pain lances through him but Coris does not cry out. This is not the first time he's been tethered, nor the first time burned. His scars are not just from those he hunts - his childhood is a darker place than he likes to recall.

The fellow is smug. He thinks himself quite the trapper. Coris only returns the expression, his beard shifting as it does. He cocks a hip, well at ease, and leather shifts. On his withers Venati screams in protest.

"Perhaps, but I propose a trade." How willing would Prometheus be to barter if he thinks himself the master of a tamed beast? How foolish to think a chain would suffice. Coris presses on, confident and needing, "I will give you what you need, if you will do a favor in return." Coris tilts his head, horn angling to the side as his left eye regards the metal with meager interest. His right eye watches the flash of bone and rotting flesh with startled wonder. So even then he hadn't been dreaming?

"You seek to bind everything that displeases you? I wear no stripes, you must be confused."

Prometheus Posts: 75
Up For Adoption atk: 4 | def: 7 | dam: 4.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 8.2 / 16.3 :: 4 months / 6 years [Immortal] HP: 60.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Pyr :: Siberian Tiger :: Hypnotize & Flaming Touch Adoptable
#9

That hiss brings me utter satisfaction, and I allow a slight smile to crawl across my features. It is a familiar, lovely sound that the metal makes as it burns the flesh of an arrogant soul. I have dabbled myself in the experience of the metal's touch, but I feel nothing. I walk through fire and emerge unscathed, feeling as if I am a god, knowing that I am the creation of one. It is an odd sensation to walk through the doors of death without collapsing.

A bone comes into view and I instantly send you towards it with a tug of chains. Why not let you take care of the inspection- I have more pressing matters to deal with. Like what, for instance, to do with a tied up, leather-clad mortal. My eyes glint with a sort of mischief as he speaks to me of bargains. Ha! As if he is in a position to bargain, as if he or anyone else ever could be. But, I am curious- I have always been a soul that wonders what follows the unanswered question. I cannot help myself, I must pursue his line of questioning.

"If you aided me in my search for The Bird's wings, what would you ask of me?" I reply in a soft, vicious whisper. My face expresses curiosity, my head tilts on its side, and my white eyes seem to shine even more brightly. You return to my side with an empty mouth and a look of fear. I expect that you've found nothing, then. And then the unicorn before me dares to question my motives. He calls me confused- confused! I am a creature of utter conviction and complete knowledge. To doubt me is to doubt the very intentions of the gods, to doubt one's own vision. Only failing eyes could see me as a dream, only ailing minds could understand me as a creature of incompetence. What pointless wastes of air- the chains tighten their grip on all that they hold. From the metal that has begun to pool at my hooves is formed a thin, sharp chain, limp and shining in the faint light of the surroundings. It whips quickly, roughly, and strikes you between the shoulders. Instantly fur parts and the space between wells up with blood. You shudder and your legs threaten to fail you.

I look at him, the chain dangling before me again, dripping with your lifeblood. It shudders with my breath, dancing in the space between myself and the fool. It will take nothing more than a blink to send it flying between his eyes- nothing more than another wrong word to break flesh. "Do not doubt my intentions, mortal!" comes my warning, filled with a venomous hatred reserved only for those who dare challenge my right to sovereignty.


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Coris Posts: N/A
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#10


The bird does not understand what the horse already knows. Perhaps with falcons it is different and the absence of freedom so repulsive they cannot abide it even for the ultimate return of that freedom. Perhaps Venati is just young or Coris just mad. Whatever the reason, a grin dances in the backs of the leather smith's eyes.

Just as he'd hoped the child's curiosity is easily baited. He let a brief exhale relieve the pressure in his lungs. Coris had only been playing on half a hope that his attempt would work, otherwise he was rather fucked.

"Only for you and your cat to talk a walk with me." Coris speaks smoothly, his features betraying little but honest intrigue. "We're both horses of the same hoof, each seeking something the other has."

His tail splashes gray against his darker haunch as the tiger crouches under the blow of the metal whip. Coris cannot help the flash pf pity that streaks across his eyes, though he turns them away and steels them before the crafter can spy them. Coris is thankful that his rage seems centered on the feline, he'd rather not taste the bite of that chain, the shrinking grasp of his own is kind enough.

The words the boy returns are interestingly chosen. Mortal he says with a tongue tip of disgust. How interesting Coris' mind purrs fascinated by this stranger's all too fucked up existence. Were he a gentler stallion he would bore more deeply into this creature's plight and learn of him, but Coris only intends to use him as he may. There is a danger to this horse that will soon have him stinking of fear if he must deal with this devil longer than need be. His curiosity does not nearly rival that of his self interest.

"No not your intentions, never your intentions," just your mind. "I intend to see your intentions through, full intending for the intentional finding of your Irc bones."

Prometheus Posts: 75
Up For Adoption atk: 4 | def: 7 | dam: 4.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 8.2 / 16.3 :: 4 months / 6 years [Immortal] HP: 60.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Pyr :: Siberian Tiger :: Hypnotize & Flaming Touch Adoptable
#11

I have missed the bright sheen of blood and the hiss of it on hot sand- here it is the heat of the metal as it melts and drips away that brings about that wretchedly wonderful bubbling sound. I am preoccupied suddenly by surroundings, and the stallion before us becomes unimportant. Why would I turn to him when so many other things surround me, when the bones of the dead await?

A feel a gentle nudging at the edge of my thoughts and long to lash you for it, but the whip is gone and with it the fire. You are right- we need him. He can lead us to the swan's wings and my new power when seemingly no other can. My lips curl and reveal partially rotting teeth under flesh that flickers between full and lush and ragged and bloody. "Very well," I whisper from lips laced in magic. My eyes, white and blinded, narrow and shimmer with the magic that holds them in place so firmly. "Show me the bones and I will... walk with you," I reply with resignation dripping from every word and dissatisfaction hanging in the air. He desires a walk and a full understanding of my intention- the foolish mortal knows nothing of what that entails.

I do not wait for him or you, whom I expect to simply drag yourself across the earth pitifully. Your blood is fragrant and calls to me, but I cannot obey the hunger, not here and in this company. Not, as I realize a moment later, with you. A wild tendency to murder flares within me and I remember the bird once more- I long to send you off to kill the creature. But you are too weak now and the bird is the pet of my only hope of finding the bird's bones. It would do me no service to harm it. "Hurry," I call back, my tone petulant and short, "I must find the bones and be given my wings, I've no time for your sentimentalities."


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Coris Posts: N/A
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#12


The undead horse, for Coris believes that's what he must be, how else could such rot have enabled this creature to still walk? It is truly a fascinating idea for a horse so accustomed to the fresh, sweet aroma of a fresh body. He is well acquainted with corpses and the dealing of death, yet never has he come across one like this unicorn creature. He wonders if the gods could enlighten him, or perhaps his herd's seer would know.

He thinks it's better not to ask the undead itself. He obviously has a superiority complex and an itch for torture he cannot scratch.

A smile graces the scarred lips of the stallion as he nods, turning to walk towards the winding, deadly trail that will lead them down the steep of the edge mountain. As he walks the chain rattles on his fetlock - he'd prefer it were off, but he'd rather not make demands when they are descending a sheer cliff. His bird could fly unharmed but Coris would end up the same as Irc, and even that one had wings.

No, better to maintain usefulness, Coris knows. "Just down here," Coris announces cheerily. The slope is not quite as treacherous as that of the Veins, but it is no easy going and the rocks slip and fall under his toes. He must ensure his fear does not show, lest the devil at his back feast on it. "Though exactly where..." Coris trails off, hoping to imply that Prometheus would not find the bones if he killed Coris now. The exact location was still illusive, the bottom of the edge as vast as the top, just in a different manner.

Once near the foot of the mountain, where the ocean crawled and tossed herself against the high rocks, Coris halted. The sea was a violent thing and her spray reached them even as they stood, like small teeth ripping against his pelt it was so cold and sharp. "I would have my freedom, if you will your bones," Coris announces, his features grim with a seriousness as he turns them upon the unicorn colt.

[I know we want to finish this, but I didn't want to assume Prometheus would unchain him... ultimately prometheus/pyr will have to go into the waters to get the bones though, Coris doesn't know how to swim and wouldn't do it anyway, lol. I was going to play them as being nestled between two rocks by the cliff bottom, underwater.]

Prometheus Posts: 75
Up For Adoption atk: 4 | def: 7 | dam: 4.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 8.2 / 16.3 :: 4 months / 6 years [Immortal] HP: 60.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Pyr :: Siberian Tiger :: Hypnotize & Flaming Touch Adoptable
#13

I have been too preoccupied with the fact that my dreams might soon become reality that I have become careless. In my haste I have let all semblances of my more attractive form slip away, and I instead have begun to run raggedly upon decomposing and atrophied limbs. I have forgotten the chain that is wrapped around his ankle and let him follow me with it dragging. You too are slugging behind me; it seems that the undead colt still has a livelier step than the stallion and his company.

The water's edge and the cliff's end approach suddenly, and I wind myself haunting once more as I had that day when we were so young. So innocent we had been- so much happier you had been, and so much freer had I. The Stallion in my company speaks vaguely of where the bones rest, but his words do little to aid me. I turn to snap at him, perhaps tear off his ungodly, mortal face and leave him a bloody mask of nothing but searing pain and hanging flesh. To remold him in the image of mine own beauty... but no. He is not worthy.

He speaks sternly and I recognize the rattling of my own chain. It seems the stallion would rather not be blessed by the presence of such a divine creation. I growl, letting my throat scratch and grow raw as old fluids burble up through dried up passageways and leave their bloody marks. "Very well, mortal. Be free, and then show me the path to the bones of the dead," I concede as the chain melts away and you whimper at the metal's hiss. My dead eyes cast over the water, beneath which my prize lies. Power, so close to being within my grasp.


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please tag Prometheus in all replies!
magic & force is permitted at your own peril.

Blu the Bootyful Posts: 443
Administrator atk: 99 | def: 99 | dam: 99
Mare :: Other :: 5'7" :: 25 HP: 99999 | Buff: TWERK
Blu
#14
I have no time, am placing Coris in absent abyss, though would like to finish his quest line first. However I am exhausted, stressed, unmotivated and museless, so was wondering if we can just assume Prometheus finds the bones and they go their separate ways and when Coris goes to turn in the quest, Prometheus accompanies him? If not I understand and will work at completing this thread.
 HP: 1100

Helovia Hard Mode

Alex the Godspeaker Posts: 11
Master of Mysticism
Mare :: Other :: Very short :: --
Alex
#15
[[This is fine- Coris does not even need to accompany him, I understand you're busy/lacking in his muse.]]


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