the Rift


[OPEN] somebody like me

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
Яikyn
Leave Dragon’s Throat alone.
 
It sounded like an easy task until I got to wandering.  Suddenly, all my roads were taking me south, all the trails ended to close to the desert.  I wasn’t going to say that I was afraid of the consequences, but I do feel a thrill of pain down my still scarred sides looking out across the red sands of the Heart, to where the sea swallows the world; where the Throat had been, when I was small, unless it had been an illusion, like how big the trees had seemed to be so very average now.  It’s somewhere out there, I think, pausing not far from the yawning mouth of the caverns below, the small but strong cerndyr arriving at my side with silence.  He notices my unusual hesitance, how I’ve stopped when usually I carelessly waltz where ever I please, and he doesn’t care for it, as he cares little for all things that seem to upset or add new figures to his portrait of the world.  His small, wet velvet nose presses against my shoulder, nosily, because he can’t talk; still, he doesn’t need words.
 
I feel his questions press against me, a soul sound.  The sun reaches deep into our dark pelts and burns, in the pleasant way sun does beneath spring breeze, and as I look down at him, it carries the few tangle free wisps of my mane astray.  His emerald gaze trickles with gold, and again, I notice the depths of their color, how he seems to already know without knowing.
 
"I’m not allowed that way," is all I explain to him, feeling the shame wash through me like razor imbued warmth, hot and uncomfortable; I’m glad we haven’t shared a single image yet, only these blurry, incandescent ideas of color and feeling which rush through me as he feels things.  An ear falls back, my hooves come to life beneath me, and suddenly, I am turned away from the Throat, and going west.  Duir makes a snort of disapproval as he bounds a few paces to catch me, his mind still fretful with unanswered questions.  Not only does he not understand why I’d care that I’m not allowed in the ocean (didn’t only fishes live there, anyway?), he is perplexed even further by the notion that I’m not allowed somewhere.  He’s heard me say it more than once, that I answer to no one, and so he cannot help but wonder what sort of force has actually barred me from something. 
 
Hell, I don’t even know how to get to where I’m not supposed to be.  A stretch of sea reaches out until I think I can see it, a brim of gold adrift in the turquoise southern waters, but it could just as well be the sun lighting the surface of the caps.  It didn’t explain the strong pegasus smell though, or that there was obviously a lot of traffic to and from there.
 
"Let’s go to the river instead," I state, rather than ask (I’m already on the way, anyway), "You haven’t seen the delta yet.  I can show you where to find the best reed roots …"
 
Whatever reservations he’d held, the need to press further caves in at the promise of food.  Like any toddler, the prospect of something delicious that he hadn’t had the delight of adding to his sensual achievements yet was, perhaps, the most tempting thing that could be offered to him.  Bounding ahead suddenly with his graceful, leaping speed, I can’t help but laugh as my white dappled companion turns about to eagerly stare at me, his golden fores tramping one and then the other in demand of my expedience.
 
"I’m coming, I’m coming!"  I playfully retort, picking up my pace to a trot and nipping at Duir’s shoulders gently as I suddenly spring into a canter and surpass him, "besides, you have no idea where we’re going!"
 
there's no place to hide down here
Image Credit

@Mordecai

Wishlist - Plots

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

Mordecai Posts: 77
Aurora Basin Mare atk: 5.5 | def: 9 | dam: 5
Mare :: Hybrid :: 16.1 :: 3 years HP: 62.5 | Buff: NOVICE
ali
#2


Less and less time had been spent in the Dragon's Throat in favor of exploring Helovia and seeing everything that she possibly could. Mordecai had been given a taste of freedom and she was drunk on it. She liked having no one but herself to answer to, no one to tell her where to go or what she should be doing. There was nothing to tie her down when she was away from the Throat and that leant to the idea that she didn't belong there anymore. She had outgrown the red island desert and that she should just leave it behind and not look back. But as appealing as that idea might have been to the dark mare, her family was there. They would always pull her back to the desert because no matter how she tried she couldn't shake their grip on her and it was maddening.

As she did every morning, Mordecai had taken her leave of the Throat to spend some time exploring on her own. One of her favorite places were the caves in the Heart because it always seemed like there was something new to find there. This time, it seemed, was no different if you didn't take into account that the something new she found was actually someone. Then again, Rikyn wasn't exactly new, she'd met him in the Blood Falls with Abraham and that Rift mare, whose name wasn't important enough to her to remember.

She could hear his voice as he spoke to someone, claiming to not be allowed that way. Of course she wondered what way and why. The closest herd to the Heart was the Dragon's Throat, so common sense lead her to believe that he wasn't allowed in the Throat. That still didn't answer her why.

She emerged from the caves as the boy and his companion took off toward the river delta. Mordecai stretched her wings out at her sides and watched the duo for a moment before she, too, took off. Once she reached her desired speed she leapt into the air and beat her wings against the air.  "Afis seris." she thought to herself. Her dark eyes sought out the unicorn and his deer in the sands below. When she spotted them she adjusted her course so that her shadow would fall over them as she flew overhead. 

"."


Translation:


MORDECAI

maybe life is nothing more than a curse inside the blessed
i'll fight this bloody war with every strangled breath
credits
the emptiness that we confess in the dimmest hour of day
in Automatown they make a sound like the low sad moan of prey

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
Яikyn
As the dark shadow of a flying thing appears before me, I half expect it to be Erthe; I turn my head up and back ever so slightly to catch the sight of her even before I bother to slow down, mostly because if it is the little white nuisance, I’m going to be increasing my speed. But, it’s not a snowflake tinted maiden riding the wind above me, and so I call ahead to Duir with a nicker, assuming he hasn’t noticed her.

He’s already stopped, looking up at her with all the suspicion a prey animal can muster; I trample out the last of the small ember of fear that sparks to life in my chest when my brain taunts that Gaucho is coming for me again. While I haven’t told Duir a whole lot about my past, my feelings towards these flying horses (especially now that one almost killed me) are obvious enough, and he’s picking up on them with more and more skill the longer we spend together. He doesn’t actually dislike anything about the girl, such as her wings, but he does distrust her, not the sort of being to understand racial boundaries (as was obvious when he befriended Remy, or the mute hybrid colt). He’s worried that she’ll try to fight me, and that I’ll fight back.

He still hasn’t forgotten the old man, either, and how his hooves had hit me and hurt Duir, too.

Pulling to a graceful stop, my tangled hair slaps down against my neck as I crane my head upwards to get a better look at the stranger. Something familiar is cast about her, something I can’t quite put my horn on, but I guess that should be normal. I have met an exorbitant amount of people in Helovia, and she could just be some familiar face from the Threshold, or something equally mundane and unimportant. Somehow, though, I feel like maybe I should remember her as more than just another face in some mundane meeting.

"It’s rude to fly over people and stare at them," I mutter to myself (though maybe she reads my lips), feeling my brows knit down as I look up at her, adding a certain surly disapproval to the air of my being. It makes the image of a surly unicorn and suspicious (and wondering if he’s still going to get those reeds now) deer, which is probably not the most approachable of combinations. What I say next is projected out into the air, words she hopefully hears through the rush of wind – so I don’t mistake her silence to be acquiescence. "Are you gonna come down here or are you waiting for me to make you?"

Unlike a lot of my threats, this one isn’t empty. All I have to do is call on the Spark that rests in me, and she’ll drop from above like a bullet (though it wouldn’t be intentional). While I have minor experience in flight, having dreamt of it once with Aelin, I don’t have much skill in landing, so obviously I can’t puppet her into a graceful one, either.

[ OOC: He can be such a total brat sometimes. -_- ]
there's no place to hide down here
Image Credit

@Mordecai

Mordecai Posts: 77
Aurora Basin Mare atk: 5.5 | def: 9 | dam: 5
Mare :: Hybrid :: 16.1 :: 3 years HP: 62.5 | Buff: NOVICE
ali
#4

In the air above the unicorn and his deer Mordecai continued her slow, leisurly flight. She drifted from side to side and as she did so her shadow would leave the duo before falling back over them for  a few seconds before they were back in the sunlight.  The girl did not think it rude to fly over someone, in fact some would welcome the shade she provided on such a hot day and on such unforgiving terrain as the area around the Helovia's Heart.

"Are you gonna come down here or are you waiting for me to make you?"

Make her? Make her? The very idea that he could make her do anything she didn't want was laughable, but the girl was curious. How exactly did he think he could make her do something she didn't want to do? "How you make mordecai come down?" She called as she circled overhead. "Magic?" She guessed. "Use magic on Mordecai and Mordecai turn blood to acid. Burn from inside out." The black and brindle mare warned.

As she circled she gradually descended and soon the tips of her cloven hooves were scraping against the ground, but she refused to stop because he wanted her to. Because he threatened to make her. She stared hard as she circled and she knew that she had seen the stallion before. She remembered him from the Blood Falls with Abraham and the crazy mare who had tried to pick a fight. What was his name? Something that started with 'R'?

Rob? Ronnie? Ryan? Ricky? Rikyn?

"Rikyn." The girl said and as she spoke the name she finally came to  a stop facing the unicorn. Her wings folded against her sides and she looked expectantly at the unicorn, waiting for him to tell her whether or not she was correct.





"."
Translation:


MORDECAI

maybe life is nothing more than a curse inside the blessed
i'll fight this bloody war with every strangled breath
credits
the emptiness that we confess in the dimmest hour of day
in Automatown they make a sound like the low sad moan of prey

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
Яikyn
How do you make Mordecai come down?” she asks, and chilly line runs up the length of my entire body; I’ve met one other who spoke like that. I’d heard it first not far from here, where a unicorn shaped bloodstain probably still colors the ground (or so my dramatic sensibilities like to think), and I’m smart enough to immediately recognize it. While Mordecai also rings bells of familiarity, I’m more worried about the buzzers and sirens that begin to madly whir and whistle when I think of the Gaucho.

Duir immediately distrusts this shadow woman above us more than he did already. When she turns to threatening me, he decides he’s on his way out; glancing about us for anywhere that might serve as cover, the fawn is most horrified to realize, not for the first time, that the only cover out here is me. Looking about again for good measure, he at last forfeits, and simply tucks himself as close to my side as he can, gazing up at this wicked (and fear inspiring) mare above us with tentative worry that this, like most meetings between me and others, will go badly.

I, on the other hoof, am more worried about hers being the only shadow. I crane my gaze out behind her, towards the sea where the Throat used to be, and maybe still is. Maybe I should ask Aelin, if we (doubtfully) meet again, where it had vanished to. I would personally avoid an idiot who kept almost dying around me. The worry and unease clenching at my chest only makes Duir’s fear of the pegasus above escalate, to such a degree that it does not ease at all when I breathe a sigh of relief.

The sky around us is empty, but for the sound of her voice.

Her insults and threats are cast as she submits to mine, however, perhaps knowing within herself that some people have no qualms hurting another, because, as far as I can see, it’s a part of who she is, too. I will admit its an odd quality about a female, most of them I’d met having been delicate, graceful, and constrained. Mordecai is not these things.

"Mm, that does sound less than pleasant," I remark as her hooves kiss the rocky earth, taking advantage of her closeness to wonder why do I know you, "for someone who didn’t have my repertoire of skills, of course."

Duir’s face is one that reads, “are you completely mad?;” I don’t even have to look. I can feel it radiating off of him as he stares, wide eyed, at her approach. I’m not worried at all, confident in my magic, my speed, and my ability to hide to believe that, if I have to, I can leave her twitching here while I get the fuck out. So, I, unlike my earthen fawn, greet her with a level gaze, meeting her stark eyes with a hope to remember her in the motion.

Nothing. All I can think of is a stupid floral stench, and the red wood of the Bear. When had I known these things together? Flowers, forest, Mordecai…

Rikyn,” she tells me, staring expectantly. So, I stare back, waiting for the usual sentence or inquiry which falls after saying ones name flatly like that. The result is that an awkwardly long silence extends after her statement, my brows slowly furrowing downwards with disgruntled impatience the longer I wait. Does she want to me to pretend like she hasn’t just told me her name three times? Is she summoning some demon to eat me?

"What." I at last state, emphasizing the flatness of what should be a question, just like she did. Maybe it’s a bit like I’m mocking her, but I’m perturbed. Who raised this girl? Badgers?

[ OOC: LAUGHING ]
there's no place to hide down here
Image Credit

Wishlist - Plots

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

Mordecai Posts: 77
Aurora Basin Mare atk: 5.5 | def: 9 | dam: 5
Mare :: Hybrid :: 16.1 :: 3 years HP: 62.5 | Buff: NOVICE
ali
#6

Yes, she did remember Rikyn. She remembered his voice and the stupid look on his face. She remembered the marking on his leg and the way he carried himself. What she didn't remember was the deer and she was fairly certain that was because he didn't have it when she'd seen him in the Blood Falls. Still, she stared at the fawn for a moment, trying to place it in her memory before deciding that she'd been right. He hadn't had it the first time. Poor fawn was stuck with him now.

At least he was smart enough to know that potentially having his blood turned to acid wouldn't be pleasant. Maybe the dumb was restricted to the look on his face. But then he had to open his mouth and Mordecai was forced to rethink her last opinion. Maybe the dumb was rooted so deeply on his face that it interfered with his brain. Yes, that worked. That was why he tempted and teased her with his words and made her want to turn every ounce of fluid in his body into scolding acid that would make him writhe and scream..

But no. Not yet, at least.

"What skill?" She asked, her head cocking to the side slightly. "Skill to be ... toki?" But she doubted that he'd know the meaning of toki. It wasn't often that she found individuals in Helovia that weren't part of the Dragon's Throat that spoke Dothraki. it was likely she'd have to translate for him, so she did. "Skill at being dumb."

She waited after saying his name for some verification be it a nod of his head or a 'yeah', that she had gotten his name right even though she was confident that she had. All she got was a what and a blank stare that made her snort in amusement. "Yer tat vo vineserat anna." She said knowingly. When she'd met him the first time she'd spoken primarily in the language she was comfortable with. Dothraki was not a language that someone could so easily forget hearing. "Ishish fin Anha hash jin damsel in distress?" She hinted because she remembered Adonne quite vividly.




"."


Translation:
toki - dumb
Yer tat vo vineserat anna - you don't remember me
ishish fin anha hash jin  - maybe if i were a


MORDECAI

maybe life is nothing more than a curse inside the blessed
i'll fight this bloody war with every strangled breath
credits
the emptiness that we confess in the dimmest hour of day
in Automatown they make a sound like the low sad moan of prey

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
Яikyn
The red forest still beckons to me, a dark place where each memory is marked with violence, malcontent, or a combination of both. The thoughts are dark, and make Duir uncomfortable, as if the approach of the warrior princess hadn’t already done its part. For some reason, my brain has travelled away from the battle of the bear to find a tall, ebony and ivory stallion, tall and strong. Nearby are his dragons, two; a vile pair, which I’ve faced once, but it was the lavender witch who’d felt their strike that day. She’d turned to me, hoping I’d leap in front of the fight she’d started. I still want to snort at the insanity that has to rest behind that sort of logic. I’d hate to be where she’s from, having to constantly catch shit for a woman’s sour temper and loose tongue. I’d conquer that kingdom and put all the women in cages.

“What skill?” she taunts, my head rising upwards at the challenge, ears pinned back; her words flow into a rather strange one. Toki?

Her elaboration makes me scoff, looking away from her in utter insult. Dumb? She obviously doesn’t know me very well. Duir, on the other hand, has felt some of the fear let loose in his chest, admiration of the insightful female creeping in on him. That my companion agrees with her is infuriating, and draws my eyes back to her with malevolence.

I may also ponder giving Duir a good kick.

Instead, I just look at her, feeling my Spark roll around in my head, manipulated by a brain that is just so dumb it can’t do a single thing but debate the moral (and possibly physical) consequences of letting her have a taste of my displeasure. The rigid whip of my tail slowly arcs behind me, dark tresses trailing in the red sand. The buck slowly turns his sunlit forest eyes towards me, curious as to what will happen next.

And then the gibberish happens.

At first, I’m flabbergasted, as is the buck alongside me, both of us looking at her like she’s just yelled gypsy curses at us. Where Duir’s youthful soul quickly diverts to curiosity, mine nags me back to the Bear’s wood, the lavender witch.

I remember, this time, the horrible little child, shouting some insanity at the buckskin mare, a little winged creature with a foul temper, and no sense of modesty. A filly I’d wanted to smash, but was pretty sure was attached to Abraham, who I’d admired for his toughness. Damsel in distress, she mocks in time with this thought, the only discernable bit of what she says. Despite wanting to sound cool back at her (though I don’t know what she’s said, and am left with only assumptions), I can’t help but snort with laughter. Her French accent is crude, the delicate lilt butchered, especially following her guttural language as it did.

"I don’t speak bird," I frown at her once I’ve managed to restrain the smirk of laughter her elusion sparks. "The lavender one very well might have been an idiot, but at least she had better sense than to jabber at people in languages they can’t understand."

A dark smirk takes my face. It may not be the best idea, but…

"Not clever enough to win in common tongue?" I taunt, deciding to keep playing the melt-my-insides-with-acid game, even though Duir literally groans in protest. Literally laughing, my last words are offered with a flourish of my right fore-hoof, and a dramatic bob of my head. "Or do you just count me as that difficult a verbal opponent? I’m quite honored."


there's no place to hide down here
Image Credit

@Mordecai

Wishlist - Plots

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


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