the Rift


[OPEN] white water rescue

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
#1
Rikyn

I am bad at waiting, and that’s what this had become.
 
"Move!" I shout at a particularly stubborn, giant turtle lingering in the only decent place to cross the swift waters tumbling down the river bank, near the center of the swiftly flowing waters.  But, the turtle, either deaf or stubborn, pretended it didn’t hear – or, maybe, he was so slow that he was trying to move, and in my impatience, I just couldn’t bother to notice, or his ears will full of river mist.
 
I knew better than to try and cross this particular flow anywhere but here, having had a terrifying moment last winter, late in the season, when the long nights began to transition into long days, and the accumulated snow all across the realms was melting.  The run off had its usual places to flee to, this river being one of them, and while it is not the full fledged roar and rush of Birdsong, its close enough.  Either way, one mistake with such rapidly moving water and a fellow quickly figured out that it was best to avoid it, lest he not get anymore chances to make mistakes at all.
 
As if to answer my point, a large branch hauls into the side of the turtle quite suddenly, scooting the giant thing all of two foot over in the impact.  Despite my annoyance at his horrible placement, I can’t help but suck in my breath as one of his knobby little legs wobbles in the air for balance – I don’t want the stupid thing to get hurt, which is why I hadn’t just jumped on his hard back and continued on my way (other than that its also likely slick as ice up there with all this wetness).  The continuation of my breathing and that stalwart turtle’s infuriatingly slow progression across the water, and what had been a hopefulness that he didn’t topple over, into the maelstrom of stream, fading back into the annoyance that he’s still squat in my way.
 
I could try to jump over him, I think, but that ends in a small mental video of falling in – nope.  My ears flatten.  My golden hooves stomp.
 
"Moooooooooove!" I shout and moan, "I just want to cross the damn river!"
 
The turtle, irritatingly, looks back at me for the first time since I arrived here about twenty minutes ago to discover that my shortcut through this patch of meadows has been rudely cut off by a shelled beast.  If I’m not simply mad from frustration, I believe he just bloody well winked at me, the little fucker!
 
"Oh, oh that’s how it is!" comes a howl from my throat, my golden hooves kicking water from the edge of the swift stream at the turtle, most of the cascading droplets landing short by some foot and a half, but some meeting the mark.  Before I know it, I’m leaping from each of the flat, crossable stones along the raised, natural bridge through the river, all the annoyance that has bundled in me building, building, until at last, the turtle is within kicking range!
 
I’m pulling back one of my front legs for just such a delightful gesture as I prepare to leap over him (and hopefully not loose my balance as I land), ready in everyway to send him spinning into oblivion, when I realize that hey his foot looks awfully stuck…  My brakes try to slam into lockdown, but in combination with the fact that the rock I happen to be stopping on is mossy (slick as snot, I mean seriously) and that I’d not intended to stop at all (but for a slight hesitance as I punted the rude turtle to the moon) leave me in quite a predicament.
 
Churning for footing, finding none, my hooves shhhhlck, crack across the stone beneath me, my hindquarters pulled about behind me, the world itself becoming a dizzy arc as my heart slams violently from my throat to my belly and back to my chest.  The mist is blinding, but I try to keep an eye on the turtle, while also trying not to die.

I mean seriously, don't let me die...
 
When at last I stop moving, it’s to find myself splay legged with my front hooves literally teetering on the edge of a stone, my right hind ankle busted open in the struggle.  Thankfully though, I’m not tumbling down the stream, and as I look over to the turtle with my sides heaving, my eyes wide as “holy shit bro did you just see that?!,” I feel a smile of relief break over the half maddened situation going on with my face.  The flow of the cold water over my ankles is strong, dangerous, but a second and longer glance up close like this reveals that, yes, his foot is very stuck – the new problem I face being how to free him without killing myself in the process, rather than how to convince him to carry on with his turtle day.
 
What a predicament.

[ OOC: Goin' to save the turtle ~ he is near the southern end of the Thistle Meadow's river, standing on a ridge of stone in the water similar to this, though I imagine the stones are larger. :3 ]



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

Shouldn’t we head back? The pensive, tired voice whispers in. The gold glances back to the dark stag beside him. His look contained the only answer the deer needed. The antlered head dips, silencing any further protest. They were quite far out though. The golden looks south, seeing a mountain just tip the trees. The Veins. Yes indeed they had gone very far from the hallow in the green maze. Soon they would reach the river ending the meadow, and reach the dark lands shrouded away. Not even the golden dared journey in there. Still he walked on, snow silently crunching beneath his hooves.

His mood was a little more reserved today, more sober. After being drunk so long on his rampage of chaos, that really hadn’t accomplished much, he was at last calming back down into his more normal self. A blessed respite the world can agree. Yet the gold was still enjoying going absolutely anywhere he pleased, without reason or worry (which was only a truth in his mind). So that is how he found himself here. He had set off in the morn, digging through the snow for grass, and now he found himself taking stock of the world here. It had been a far off whim that he might come across something interesting, but it seemed the meadow was a little low in that today. There was absolutely nothing out here. Honestly the gold would find a group of deer interesting right now. So when a shout rose from out in front, we shouldn’t blame him for jumping a little forward and picking up the pace in curiosity.

The scene was at first rather hard to put together. Even Haldir’s head tilted in confusion. It was especially hard to figure out once the gold identified the horse responsible for all the yelling. Rikyn. It had been a while since he’d seen the young buck. The last meeting was…not very memorable. Harks flick back pensively as he moves on forward, behind the stallion leaping onto the first rock, yet as the scene unfolded a small grin rose back on the golden’s lips. It was a turtle! A small breathless chuckle rolls out in hot steam. A turtle of all things. Rather oddly the gold had a special place for turtles. It had been one on the beach ages ago that gifted him a magic, and another which seemed to pop up randomly about this land. Yes, the gold quite liked turtles, so he was quite happy to sit back at watch it ruin the colt’s day.

Oh dear. Ears lift back forward and brow raises as he watches the youth’s epic struggle with gravity, and it took every fiber not to burst out in laughter. In fact his whispered hiss of one was quite restrained, especially given his latest escapades. Now the golden moves to the shoreline of the creek. Haldir, who had been watching with a bit more pity than the gold was already there. He looks up to his bonded with a panged expression. The dark stag knows what’s coming, and like a mother who gives the kid a brand new bike, begs him not to race it down the neighborhood hill too fast. The golden only snorts back a reply, of course the kid is going to race the brand new bike that’s what it’s for. The deer can only look back out and sigh.

“Tricky bit of business that.” He at last calls out, the humor lacing over the turn of phrase. Of course he was only smug about the whole thing because he had a bit of a trump card up his sleeve, as usual. The golden exhales, letting gears turn within and click. The golden coat shimmers, then contorts dark. After a moment, Erebos stands on the shoreline where the gold had been, but wearing the same grin as the gold. Striking blue eyes spark with mischief. You see the golden has remembered something very interesting about the prince who’s clothes he now wore. Cloven hoof paws at the snow then steps out over the stream, and sets down firmly on its surface. The grin twists wickedly, as slowly the youth is brought out onto the water’s surface.

Slowly, because it was the oddest thing the gold had ever done, felt, or seen, and that included flying. Though he kept up the mask of calm exterior, inside his gut still clinched as he navigated what was surprisingly a slippery surface in the most unnatural way possible. This he had seen the colt do one day on the ice as magic orb was dropping to the sea. It had been quite spectacular. Now the golden had happily stolen the skill. Coming up alongside the dark youth the blue roan looks to the little turtle. “Ello old chap.” He rumbles out in good humor, not yet seeing the poor thing was stuck (nor the youth’s injury as the water rushed away the blood). Instead he looks to the precariously placed Rikyn. “Surely you’ve learned by now Rikyn, that there are more sophisticated ways to go about the world.” The crowned dark head tilts as was becoming a habit, and those blue eyes sparked with humor. Of course his position was not exactly easily held either. If you looked close his legs were spread a bit far and care as well, and each step was still slow, feigning grace, and gently placed. Still it was a bit of an understatement to say he was pleased with himself.


OOC :: I couldn't resist, I hope you don't mind!
Identities:: Erebos, Tembovu, Archibald
"speech"

Posting Poetics
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@Rikyn

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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
#3
Rikyn
That voice is familiar, I think, looking up from the turtle’s predicament to the shore, watching his golden body warp and meld into Erebos.

I forget the turtle, my eyes narrowing, heart suddenly hardened. How dare he impersonate my snow brother! The blood flowing through his veins was not the regal lineage of great Ignatius, the finest unicorn knight to ever live; his blood was not the blood of the Time Keeper, Huyana, or the Reaper, death knitted in his teeth. The sight of him as he takes those magical steps across the water makes my mouth sour, my white teeth clenched, grinding, as he approaches.

It makes me loathe him, to see this falsity wield the power of my friend when I had never seen the real Erebos do it at all. A thief of memories, not just items, my eyes narrow until they are golden slits of molten distaste.

What an utter shit, I think, wondering how fucked up his parents were to make such a callous cretin as Thranduil, the Laurelin.

I pretend to ignore him as he greets me, repressing every urge I have to just shove him off balance and into the stream, figuring his borrowed magic would make that impossible, anyway. He’d just splat down on the top of the rushing water like it was ground, and it would be me who got tossed in, and drowned.

It’s not until he fusses at me about trying to save a turtle that I let my eyes snap to his false face, not pausing to think that maybe he hadn’t even really noticed the turtle at all, contempt lining every inch of my features as I try to calmly explain the situation.

There are still needles lining the syllables. The words are still too sharp, my youth lacking the deft skill of those who brought me into the world.

"How about you use that fancy power to do something more than be a pretentious nag?" the words are followed with a rough gesture of my horn to the turtle, to his foot and the big rocks that it has somehow wedged itself between, "he’s stuck."

And I am beginning to resent him for it – all trying to save him has brought me is Thranduil, in a friend’s clothing.

[ OOC: stop being egotistical says the egotistical unicorn egotistically ]



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


The youth’s anger only served to boost the gold’s humor. Letting the grin grow ever wider. Haldir can only roll his eyes.

The jab then was still humorously received, though misinterpreted. Do something more useful? Was Rikyn asking for help? Now the gold had to admit he didn’t actually know the kid. Much of what he knew rested on qualities of the mother, and the grown colt had proved in their last meeting that not all those fine qualities had been passed on. Still, surely the kid wasn’t daft enough to-

Oh he wasn’t. The gold follows the youth’s gaze back to the old gentle soul on the rock. A chuckle rumbles through the blue roan’s throat. “Oh dear.” His voice came across lighter in this new body. So that is why the dark son had taken a tumble. Well at least it was a little redeeming to know it was from him trying to be nice. Still it was the gold’s strange liking of turtles that caused him now to pity the thing. “Here old chap, let me rescue you for this poor colt’s…struggling attempt.” The blue eyes dance with a feigned love to the other, before coming back to its task.

Though the teasing was easy, and the magic quite fun, the rescue might not be the same. As the blue roan carefully half way circled the rock, the situation was revealed to be quite serious indeed. A cloven hoof steps up between the rocks, letting the wall of it slip through. He tries then to wedge the crack open but it does not give. Harks flick back, miffed. Snorting he shifts to try again, but still no luck. For all his efforts the old turtle face just looked back in confused patience.

The blue roan steps back, lion tail swinging with thought. Any movement of the dark son crashed upon his rock is not given any notice. The gold it seemed was genuinely trying for once and he would not be interrupted. In other words, his vanity was cruising much too high to listen to any advice.

After a moment he steps forward again. This time the crown dark head lowered to the rock, letting the bone hard horn slip under the turtle’s foot in the crack. His body braced before his head both turned and lifted, causing it to wedge against the rocks while pushing the old chap’s foot up. At first it only inched, but then the old creature seemed to catch on, and it was in all turtle slowness, pulled free. The horn slipped out and the gold pulled back, most pleased with himself. “There ya go old mate.” With a smug smirk the blue roan turns to look back to the dark son. A little more tease ran through his lips. “You next?”



OOC :: I'm so sorry this took me so long! If you want to drop it its fine <3
Identities:: Erebos, Tembovu, Archibald
"speech"

Posting Poetics
Image by the AMAZING Vossity


@Rikyn

[Image: 5381546acbe33]
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Please tag in every post.
Ask Thranduil any question in the world, he'll be forced to answer on his profile. PM with your question.

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
#5
Rikyn
At least the golden man decides to be useful, when he at last perceives what is happening (and quits assuming that I’m simply enjoying a bit of river standing or something).  However, the assistance is paired with belittling commentary, and I find myself glaring hotly at Erebos (who is Thranduil, I remind myself) for the first time in my life, wondering if I should make my exit while he’s obviously distracted with the turtle.  Some part of myself, small, appeals to my kindness, however, and though I stay, I do roll my eyes dramatically and ponder, heavily, pushing him down into the rapids.

I bet you can’t walk upon water while on your back, “old chap.”

A bemused smile traces my lips and is followed by a mocking guffaw, because the arrogant fool can’t get him out as easily as he thought he might.  It’s not until he lowers his crown to use only one of his horn that I deign to do more than watch like a perturbed brat, dropping my own metallic blade to assist in prying the stone loose.  While I can’t exert myself to my full strength (having to focus on the moss slicked footing beneath me, and the rushing water, as well), we do manage to lift the heavy ass rock enough for the turtle to free his trapped foot.

Of course, Thranduil reacts as if he did it alone, this act which was entirely his own idea.  The sight of such arrogance and emotive cheer across Erebos’ normally somber, quiet face is foreign and rouses anger and distrust within me.  I don’t like these feelings being associated with Erebos anymore than I really like the fellow making me feel them, and so I guess, in that regard, anyway, all of this makes sense.  

As the turtle plops happily back into the coursing water, carrying on his way, I turn my back to the false roan unicorn almost in the same moment he decides to carry on with his impish taunting.  With a few graceful bounds, I’m across the natural bridge, and back on solid ground.  I should probably thank him for helping me get the turtle loose, but I’m too hostile with him (and his feigned fanciness) to bother being polite.

I don’t even know what he means, “you next?”  Me, next to have my body mocked, cruelly, before a best friend?  Next to be trapped between a stone and another, or freed to the river’s wild dash?  I would have none of these options, and so I cast my gaze over my shoulder to look at him with all the hot headed nature my dam had become famous for writ over every inch of my face.

"I’m not a colt anymore, you gold plated ass," stiffly intones the usual cheerful tenor of my voice.  The threat is not elaborate as those I cast with less seriousness, perhaps not even one which can be noticed by someone like Thranduil; I will let him invent his own machination of whatever torment awaits him should he decide I’m nobody worth respecting.

Again, the vision of Erebos smirking in that way makes me want to throttle the man who my mother had been so delighted to play weird mind games with.  It’s just another reason to not like her; she had intoned upon others that I enjoyed being manipulated and manipulating as much as she did, when I really would rather they leave me the fuck alone.  With a disgruntled noise, I poke my horn in his direction accusingly, eyes narrowed, ears pinned, and tail swaying vehemently as I pivot to face him on the shore.

"And would you stop with this… shameless masquerade already?" I irritably snap, I fumble my thoughts around the fringes of my magic, wondering if I could force him back into his proper body if he decides to be difficult about things (I really wouldn’t be surprised if he did).  "It's sickening to see my blade brother with so little moral character."




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@Thranduil

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Thranduil the Laurelin Posts: 598
Outcast atk: 5.5 | def: 11 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.2 hh :: Eight HP: 77 | Buff: ENDURE
Haldir :: Common Cerndyr :: Dark Mist Hawk
#6



The gold wasn’t expecting gratitude but the simple plop of the turtle into the water made his ears fall back. Figures, soon as he did a good deed in front of someone (squandering his reputation of course) no gifts or benefits rewarded him. Not even an appreciative glance back. The gold gave a snort of disinterestedness and turned back to his other company.

Rikyn’s mood was not totally unexpected. He watched the dark prince move with some actual grace to the shore. With a smirk still on his face he moved to join. Haldir, at seeing the action finally no be on the water comes as well, standing off not far, looking with quiet curiosity at the blue roan’s trick.

The earth eyes fall on the youth’s hot tempered glare but he returns it with only a grin. For whatever reason, the dark prince’s ire was not troubling him. Perhaps it was the young stallion’s age, or the situation he was found in. Whatever the reason, it was probably for the best that it stayed. Insults like that on other days might be a call to arms. Yet, as seeming more normal of late, the hot words simply rolled off.

Still it made the golden cock his head as the blue roan body slowly made towards shore. It appeared the laid back lad he had found in the hot springs several moons ago had gotten a big bigger in more ways than one. This made the gleeful mooded creature pause, just for a moment, as his mind repositioned just who was before him.  "Of course."  Came the sly reply, dripping with judgement and thick underlying workings. But just as the note of serious analysis came, it went. The gold stepped on to join his stag.

He was stopped just at the shoreline by the movement of an incoming horn jerking his way. Crowned head turned sharp and high to see what could have been a threat (again causing the gold to rethink just who this irate youth was). But his mood had returned and the gold was of better humor. “Shameless masquerade? What a poor name for such a fun trick.” 

Still as the gold stepped on the shore he exhaled slowly, letting the illusion fall. To be honest, you see, he hadn’t exactly liked walking on water. It broke the normal laws and was slipperier than ice. Fairly overrated trick if you asked him. The blue roan coat fell away like dust on the breeze, and ended with a final flick of the golden tasseled tail. With a feigned look of ruined fun the golden continued his torment of the youth. “My what a temper” He turned to look at Haldir, whispering, but clearly able to be heard. “…someone woke up on the wrong side of the grass.” 

The gold grinned, but Haldir did not return it. The deer simply shook his head and looked back to the other. Disappointed but not dejected the gold looked back as well. “You should try the life of ‘little moral character’ it’s much more fun than being trapped on high pedestals.” The gold man’s tasseled tail flicks and curls with contentedness. His mind rolling around this figure before him, this youth he thought he knew but was constantly seeming to rediscover. Other times, such as in the springs, it might have soured him to be proven wrong over and again, but now it simply made him more curious.

The gold you see was not a complete fool. Though he was wrong several times about Rikyn’s skill set, he still believed the colt young stallion was someone to keep in touch with. Though it must be said, that was no longer for the gilded names on his family tree, but for the one he was carving for himself.



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

Posting Poetics
Image by the AMAZING Vossity

 
@Rikyn

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

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
#7
Rikyn
I don’t think about the fact that he might still be Lord Thranduil at all as I stare him down from the shore; I also don’t think that Erebos is aware of this current situation. Somehow I doubt he would have agreed to his entire being, magic and all, flaunted about in front of any one, for any means. I don’t think about how very arrogant and volatile it may make me seem, just as the entire situation with Ashamin and countless others have unraveled before my eyes.

This one goes differently. Though my words and body language aren’t that much different from all my less than pleasant conversations before, the man is very different indeed; his smile falls, he meets with his companion along the shore (I swear he told me his name once… oh well). He agrees with me at first, which sort of throws me off my game for a split second, ears splaying ever so slightly from their hostile position.

Of course. Okay…

He also agrees to drop the charade, though he insults my choice of words in the usual, frustrating Thranduil fashion. I think, for the first time while dealing with him, that maybe we’re too similar to get along. Maybe the magic is cool, as offensive as seeing Thranduil in Erebos’ skin is, and maybe watching him shift from one person to another is rather interesting.

Maybe it makes my eyes narrow and my insides curl, because fuck that I’m nothing like that guy.

I’m anger incarnate simmering on the shore when he turns to the deer alongside him and whispers as if I can’t hear him. What he whispers is not really all that clever, as far as Thranduil’s lines go, but I’m already frustrated enough with the entire day that it really bothers me. What bothers me even more is that I’m sure he had fully intended it to have that effect, and so I do my best to restrain myself, though my eyes are molten and my ears have almost vanished in my tangled hair.

What he says next helps me recover slightly, mostly because he’s now insulted my adventurer’s nature. A snort breaks from my nostrils in mockery of the entire statement, and how little he obviously knows about me or my family at all.

"I was speaking of Erebos, not myself," I retort, my own tail arcing in a much more sinister fashion than the Laurelin’s easy play; my blade brother was busy honing his skills in leadership to rule the Basin some day, and his body to avenge the death of Arwen, slain by some cruel brute almost before Erebos’ very eyes. He didn’t have time to go dashing in and out of herd lands, chased by angry pale women with icy blades, or to tip toe behind some stranger, hoping to remain unnoticed. He was busy being a real knight, with real responsibilities.

Me?

"I can do as I please now, without worrying a bit who it will effect," I grin, a dark thing which is given a terrible shadow by the aggression still simmering in me, and that grin grows in depth as I think of how ironic my next statement is; I’d once been made into nobody by the Spark, in quite the literal sense, "I’m pretty much a nobody, and it suits me well."







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Thranduil the Laurelin Posts: 598
Outcast atk: 5.5 | def: 11 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.2 hh :: Eight HP: 77 | Buff: ENDURE
Haldir :: Common Cerndyr :: Dark Mist Hawk
#8



Earthen eyes glint with gold as they watch hungrily the dark prince before him. Perhaps it was the very shifting of the nature of this creature which appealed to him so much, now that he had discovered it was shifting. Unlike the rest of this world it seemed that Rikyn was still sorting through life, had anger management issues (though the gold could give him a run for his money there), and was defiant in all things. Of course this could simply be the affects of the gold’s company…but that was a rather boring, self-accusing theory, and those never got far with him.

His attempts to stir up an even bigger storm in the other resulted only in a smarting of his temper…for a moment. A brow rises as the dark prince continues not to completely loose it. So it wasn’t the most original line, but it should have had some teeth nonetheless. Tasseled tail flicks his side once as he continued to toy with the other.

The gold didn’t find exactly what he was looking for. Again Rikyn deflected it on his ‘blade brother’ and stands a bit prouder. Head pulls back slightly as if to take it in and he makes no move to interrupt this puffing of the chest. It was of interest however that he called such loyalty upon the reaper’s son. The gold had not seen the other Basin prince in quite an age, since the God battles. His mind wandered off just for a moment wondering if the young reaper was still in the Basin as well? Or, if his path had taken one such as Rikyn’s. He highly doubted any son of the stoic icy Deimos would have such a quick hot temper. Then again, he had never expected Rikyn to either, though it was turning out utterly delightful. An amusing thought arose that it perhaps wasn’t always so amusing to others in the gold’s position, and that perhaps that was the cause of those new scars.

The crowned head tilts slightly between its musings, watching ever closely as his snake of a sly voice, in the same giving tones as before speaks. “Apologies.” It was clear though that it wasn’t very sincere, especially by the smug grin still resting on his face. But Rikyn’s smile grows and the gold grows quite to listen to some declaration. To the first proud declaration his can only raise his brows in delight. My, my what a teenager this was. (Of course the gold has hardly any room to talk considering his own delight in such freedoms, but that’s never stopped him.) The gold only repeats in a tease “Do as you please eh?” It was clear that Rikyn’s proud moment wasn’t taming the gold’s mood at all.

It was the next proud, chest puffing declaration which caught the gold’s mind by storm. Rikyn wanted to be a no one. This fight starting, fist throwing, oath swearing young firecracker of a stallion….wanted to be a no one. And he thought it suited him. A bellow of laughter rolls from the gold and his head shakes down with the force of it. “Rikyn-“ The name cuts in as the laughter dies down. “-you will never be a nobody, not with that attitude.” The laughter died quiet and the gold was left with his Cheshire cat grin yet again . “Even if the names of your parents and blade brothers did not make you a somebody. Even if the world ceased at this moment to know your face. Or even if your name changed to Bob. You have too much pride, fight, and loyalty to waste away nameless.” Did he really know that? Well he believed it, but no he didn’t know. “If it suited you, you wouldn’t still be standing here arguing with me.” Still as his ass of a grin told, he’d be happy to see the youth drum up an argument.

Haldir twisted his head to look up to his bonded as he silently watched? Was the gold giving advice? No….this still sounded like to much of an antagonizing insult.





OOC :: So tempted to write " lol rikyn. I know you, too late to be a nobody."
"speech"

Posting Poetics
Image by the AMAZING Vossity

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

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
#9
Rikyn
Thranduil had never had a broken heart, or, if he had, it had resulted in him becoming the laughing jester of a man he is now. As I stare him down with a look that could melt flesh if flesh was wax (and my eyes were lasers like I wish they were at this time), I wonder if I’ll become this sort of man, too, if that’s the case. I wonder if, I can’t ever close up the dark holes in my heart that I’ll be forced to hide behind the rippling illusion of nonchalance that drifts around the golden one like his cloaks, if I’ll smile at some frustrated boy man until he’s ready to rip my face off, having forgotten how painful it is to be mocked…

Or perhaps knowing, after all, the lash of each gesture and word carefully crafted and cast to break down another from within, as I had been by others who were less obvious in their attempts to cause me turmoil than Thranduil.

Maybe they hadn’t even meant to. Maybe they were just chaos, the dark strokes of paint in the world, and they had tempered me. Maybe the Golden Lord is just an asshole, and nothing made him this way, but having been born with the impish and small soul he was given during creation.

He apologizes in a way that means he thinks I’m being a nitwit, that signature smile of his that made mother’s need to manipulate others go all wild with anticipation, and which makes my frown deepen. I decide that it is better than nothing at all, or the continued annoyance of his defending himself in the deplorable behavior of mocking a Prince, and chose to ignore the sarcasm in his next question. When he starts laughing at me, though, I find that I can’t help but find the same glower of frustration and loathing fitted on my face.

When starts talking the look of lasers lingers, finding only insults in his first sentence (and proving that perspective is everything), but it falls away the longer he goes on. Hidden in his arrogant jabs are complements and a confusion seeds itself at the base of my brain, mostly because, well, I have never been very nice to Thranduil. It’s weird hearing him say something that uplifts me the way those words do, and the struggle between aggression towards and the sudden approval of the man makes my backward ears pull to the side. My glower eases, my mouth parts ever so slightly in disbelief, and my blood pressure reels from the sudden loss of hostility in my bloodstream.

Of course, having been thrown off guard is infuriating to an arrogant unicorn such as myself. Whatever good his words do to better my opinion of him, I allow no such weakness to last long in myself, and chase out the bewilderment with annoyance at having been made to feel that way in the first place.

"Thanks I guess," I tersely growl at him, an unusual arrangement of words and sounds, but I can be quite the conundrum myself. Snorting, I try to let go of the desire to bite him for gentler things, genuinely trying to not let the wicked Laurelin get the best of my temper with his annoying frivolity for once. "You’re possibly the most insulting being alive, you know, if you were wondering why I was really here arguing with you."

Hah, have some of my bad taste in humor. A smile tilts across my lips as the hostile sway of my tail stills behind me.

"Surely I’m not the first person to tell you that about yourself?"

[ OOC: feeds him to Walter the dragon ]



Coding by Tamme - Image by Dingo

@Thranduil

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

Thranduil the Laurelin Posts: 598
Outcast atk: 5.5 | def: 11 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.2 hh :: Eight HP: 77 | Buff: ENDURE
Haldir :: Common Cerndyr :: Dark Mist Hawk
#10



Much to the golden’s surprise, it was Rikyn’s turn to give in. Where he at been expecting a fury of agitation at the refusal of his perceived and supposed desires, the young stallion on huffed and growled some low thanks, much in the same tones of the gold’s prior acquisitions. Tasseled tail flicked at his heels. Once again his desire to push the colt over the edge hadn’t succeeded. Pity.

Still he wouldn’t take back those words. In jest or in attempted annoyance the gold for once had spoken what he believed the truth. Some creatures in Helovia were bland and wasteful. They floated about these lands like sponges, or some dull cake, tempting and appearing with potential, but tasteless, with nothing to latch into. He had run into his fair share where even his terrible biting words could not find something to latch into. Perhaps for some it was because they were skilled at keeping it hidden, but for most it was because they were nothing but dull driven cattle. Rikyn most certainly did not belong in that category. Never would the term tame beast of burden apply to him. So he was certainly not a no body, thank goodness. The word was far more interesting for it.

Telling him so was even more pleasurable. Sometimes that little golden nugget of truth was a better weapon than some false bravado or full-fledged lie. Sometimes, the truth hurts worse than all the illusions and lies. That is what his dark soul, wrapped in the black shrouds of the past had taught the gold. Though the hypocrisy of it all did little to stop him from wearing his signature smug look of satisfaction. Rikyn’s snort and thanks was enough to let him know he hit at least some nail on the head. A small consolation prize for nipping the feisty brute in the bud.

Yet then the disgruntles Prince turns on him slightly. Gold harks come attention as he sees a new expression pass on the youth’s face, and head tilts ever slightly. The words are spoken in some tone the gold had yet to hear from this mouth, humor. It made him only grin all the more, barring the slight insult (which really was sort of a compliment), for it meant that at last, Rikyn was playing along. Tasseled tail now picks up a regular swing of delighted playfulness. He raises a brow, letting his cutting sarcasm shift to jabbing humor. “Insulting? Honestly Rikyn, the words that come out of your mouth.” He straightens as if taking some moral high road. “To play you have to know what they want to hear first.” His head lowered as if imparting some secret “If I only told you only those, you’d be quite bored Mr. Not-Nobody.” His grin grows, the slyness returning to reveal him.   “And what’s the fun in that?”

Then the prince takes another spin of humor, jabbing out at the gold again. Once more though it alludes that the youth was at last playing along, and the attempted insult is flecked off by the joy of the banter. “Decidedly not.” Earth eyes look to the scars still on that still young coat. “Judging by those scars you have begun to learn you don’t get this far in the world without someone doing more than telling you.” His hip moves slightly to bring it into the light of the conversation. Barred in faint grey against the bright gold was a triple crossed T. Morir’s damned work for the gold’s ‘fun’. “Not the first.” He spoke slightly darker, but then shifting the hip back he grins the darkness vanished. “Probably not the last.” And then in some softer inner voice, he reveals another truth. “But I’ll not have it any other way.” Much better anyway than facing dark painfully hidden truths. Though it did seem his philosophy was falling slightly apart, as more and more the world kept pushing his dark wounds into the light through rosen ghosts.






OOC :: Haldir's just standing around XD
"speech"

Posting Poetics
Image by the AMAZING Vossity


@Rikyn

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