the Rift


[OPEN] at the water's edge

Syrena Posts: 207
Dragon's Throat Forger
Mare :: Hybrid :: 16.1 hh :: 7 years
Thelxiepeia :: Royal Rougarou :: Water Kyra
#1
Syrena
let the water take me
She comes back to the sea, as she always does. This living thing is going better. She struggles with the notion of staying in the Falls slightly less. It gives her a purpose, at least, and she’s managed to turn one of the ponds into her own nest. It’s far enough off the beaten path that no one else really goes there. Also, the Falls seems rather quiet, so maybe there’s just no one there to actually find her. Not that she knows for sure, because she’s hardly been around long enough to know for sure. But still, it feels quiet.

Today though, she needs the sea. Her skin feels dry and brittle, her mind is too far gone (already ahead of her, listening to the waves crash) to head directly back to the Falls. Her little tiny pond won’t be enough. She needs the sea. That endless, impossible blue that spreads until the horizon, some distance she will never find the end to. Could she swim that far still, with her powers gone? The only way to know for sure is to try, and to fail is to drown in that endeavor. So she has not tried.

Instead, she makes her way to the place where the sand and water collide, wading in until she’s about knee deep, the waves crashing over her legs. Her legs swirl into new colors – blues and greens – as they always do in the cold water. Spots of blue and green appear on her belly and her sides where the waves splash onto her skin. She lets out a long, soft sigh. A happy, content, sort of a sound that seems to belong to someone missing a key part of her heart.

Her sisters. She thinks of them now, as she always does, when she’s standing at the water’s edge. And she misses them, as she always will. And though life has forced her forward, she will never forget them, and she will never stop coming here and simply letting the water wash it all away.

"words"
@Bathsheba - I had some time, so I figured I'd finally get this up for you. Sorry I totally spaced on this!

darya87 | larfsalot
on deviantart

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Magic use/power playing is okay, but check before serious injury/death
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Bathsheba Posts: 45
Outcast
Filly :: Hybrid :: 16.3 hh :: II years
Kansas
#2
I've never been a rich man
And that was how the west was won
Water has become a titular part of her life, an active part of her day where some of it was spent beneath some body of water. The soft, rocking motion always helped to quell the pain, pain that was slowly beginning to ebb into something different, something new. Bathsheba was growing, that much was for certain. The promise of change was having a positive effect on her daily attitude, or maybe it was the horses she was meeting. Since that first day curled up in the dank corner of a cave with Sialia, the filly felt as though she was finally seeing the sun. She watched it now, creeping slowly toward the far horizon in the West, it's bright light reaching out to the clouds that moseyed through the sky. It was beautiful and revitalizing in a ways that Sheba was starting to rely on, she enjoyed her shadows yes, but she liked the sun more.

It was here, waist-deep in the waves that she saw her first, a creature so strange and red that she almost laughed. Red? There were chestnuts and sorrels but red? That was a bold and vicious color to present. Yet there she was, meandering down to the water, hooves dipping into the tide as it rushed up to claim the beach once more. Only after the aqua hit her skin did the filly see something truly remarkable, she changed! The reds become soft blues, highlighted green and teal under the suns watchful eye. the blues crawled up her legs and kissed her belly, splattering across her back like paint and Bathsheba gasped. Now that was a sight to see and the patchwork child did a little dance of excitement. "Wow!" She breathed, unable to contain herself. Long, skinny legs pushed through the waves, bringing the little girl forward and closer to the color-changing mistress. Her tail, drenched and heavy, swept up and through to the surface as she began to ascend from the cool water. All sense of common courtesy was lost, replaced with a childish rush of adrenaline she was still trying to get used to. "How did you do that?" She asks, finally coming up to where she could face the mare without being too terribly close. Bathsheba admired the multi-dimension of blues and reds as they swathed together, no telling where one began and the other ended.



(sorry for the delay! :3)
@Syrena


Syrena Posts: 207
Dragon's Throat Forger
Mare :: Hybrid :: 16.1 hh :: 7 years
Thelxiepeia :: Royal Rougarou :: Water Kyra
#3
Syrena
let the water take me
Once, Syrena had been optimistic about life. Once, the sun had been a beautiful thing, bringing with it the promise of a new day. A new day, a new soul to feed on, a new place to nest. Now, it brings only another damn day, without the promise of immortality, without a reason to go anywhere at all. Her powers don’t come back if she leaves this place. Her powers don’t come back if she stays (the snippets of power she can earn here barely touch the surface of what she once was).

She tries not to think like that anymore. Tries to wake up thinking What can I do for the Falls today? (not that she ever does, though sometimes she manages the thought an hour or two later.) Tries not to dwell on the sea and the things she lost. Tries, instead, to work today what she can have. A bit more magic. A companion. Titles. These are the only forms of power that are left to the once mythical, immortal mare.

Splashing of another creeps into her thoughts, though Syrena, in typical fashion, ignores it. They haven’t said anything in her direction, and so perhaps they are just passing by. Possibly, she should worry for her life more than she does, but sometimes her lack of abilities doesn’t completely sink in. Once, she was likely one of the most deadly things you would find in the sea. Now? Well, let’s just not go there.

It’s the sound of a wow that finally turns her eyes to the child in the water not far off. She looks down, realizing the girl is probably amused by the swirl of color wherever the water hits. Ah, yes, a lovely, useless trick. But at least it is a lovely, unlike the rest of her. Her coat is seal-gray most of the time with a few patches of scales, but nothing like what it could be. Only the water turns her to what she really is.

The girl starts coming closer, and Syrena has to resist the urge to move away. Thankfully, the child stops a polite distance away, and Syrena relaxes slightly, more willing to answer the question knowing the girl was not going to try to poke and prod at her. “Magic,” she says, deadpan, without a hint of a joke in that. “I don’t control it.”


"words"

darya87 | larfsalot
on deviantart


@Bathsheba

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Bathsheba Posts: 45
Outcast
Filly :: Hybrid :: 16.3 hh :: II years
Kansas
#4
I've never been a rich man
And that was how the west was won
She knew that Murtagh would love this, this creature of reds and blues. He was red and blue too was he not? But not like this, not like this magic the woman spoke of. Sheba has seen magic before, seen it swirling, bustling, and even stabbing, one of the perks of following a high-ranking officer around. This was none of those things though, this was something so beautiful and simple that the filly felt it was more than the others, it was something that could go undetected, unknown. Those were the sort of things that got you places. The patchwork filly did a small dance, thick sand sucking at her hooves as her excitement bubbled over. "How did you get it? Were you cursed? Or born with it?" her intent was not of course, to offend the mare, but it was not until the words passed wide lips that she thought about it. "Well! I mean was it given to you? Not as if somebody would..." her voice faltered as old feelings trembled against the veil of confidence laid out across her mind. "Can I do it to?" Change the topic, her best course of action.

This was a tactic Sialia was attempting to teach her, a slow process but definitely gaining. She did not use it in an effort to cause distrust but more so to draw her away from the possible insult... despite the growing vine of childishness in her actions, Sheba was still a cautious being at heart. Now all she had to learn was how to do it with more of the... tact part.


(life got super busy, sorry!)



@Syrena

Syrena Posts: 207
Dragon's Throat Forger
Mare :: Hybrid :: 16.1 hh :: 7 years
Thelxiepeia :: Royal Rougarou :: Water Kyra
#5
Syrena
let the water take me
Syrena would have laughed, if she could read minds. What good was her little parlor trick? Once, she could steal the souls of men and make herself immortal. Once, she was so much more than a gray seal-skinned mare who swirled to different colors in the water. Feared, strong, beautiful. Anything but this mare that spent too much time standing by the ocean hoping her sisters might find a way to save her. Turn her back. Make her into a siren again.

They never came, not after that first time. Maybe she wasn’t asking hard enough. Maybe she was asking too hard, too desperately.

She actually laughs as the filly asks if it’s a curse. Not at the girl, but rather how spot on that observation was. The girl keeps going, trying to cover it up, but Syrena shakes her head a bit looking actually (almost pleasantly) amused. “Oh, it’s a curse dear. Just not in the way you think. I was far more powerful before Helovia. This was the only bit of my magic Helovia didn't take from me.”

The girl switches topics though, and Syrena, shockingly, finds the girl somewhat tolerant. Who would have expected that? She doesn’t so much mind children, or at least, this one. Granted they’ve only spent maybe ten minutes together, so her feelings could change. “I suppose you could, if you earned the magic for yourself. But perhaps, as you grow, you will find you are better suited for something else. What are your favorite things?” Mostly she didn’t care if someone else changed colors in the water, but a little part of her wanted to be the only one. It was the only special thing she had left. And besides, the girl was young yet. There were very likely other magics that the girl would prefer.

"words"

darya87 | larfsalot
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@Bathsheba

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Bathsheba Posts: 45
Outcast
Filly :: Hybrid :: 16.3 hh :: II years
Kansas
#6
I've never been a rich man
And that was how the west was won
Magic, her? The very thought was enough to pull a small spurt of laughter from her lungs. Magic! No, Bathsheba was not designed for magic, her body was far too weak and her bones fragile from a disease nobody asked for. Yet there was no denying the sadness underlying her falsely spun amusement, it was difficult to avoid and even harder to hide. This was a skill the patchwork child had yet to master and it was no easy task, struggling daily to keep the dark webs away from the small blossom of joy in her heart.

"There will never be magic for me, not really." She finally replied, lips curling into the image of a smile while her chest heaved under an onslaught of depression. There was no reason to drag this creature into her dreary life, and it was also impossible without seeming rude. Where was that fine line Sialia tried to point at in their lessons? Where was the bridge she might gently try to cross without invading the other side? "I have a disease that makes me too weak, I can hardly stand most days let alone have magic." her nostrils flared and the painted child swung the length of her tail up and away from the waves. "But I like to see other people's magic, I like... dark things, shadows are nice. But so is the light?" Which was true both ways, distract. Do... something else! Do something! But what? She reached for something, the proper tactic to employ and found it slipping away. Far, far away and suddenly she looked at the mare in brief discomfort. Control, she needed control, there was no place for weakness and confusion in the world.



@Syrena

Syrena Posts: 207
Dragon's Throat Forger
Mare :: Hybrid :: 16.1 hh :: 7 years
Thelxiepeia :: Royal Rougarou :: Water Kyra
#7
Syrena
let the water take me
Syrena isn’t that skilled with empathy. She vaguely notes the underlying sadness in the girl’s laugh, but she’s not entirely sure what to do with that sentiment. Syrena carried enough sorrow and regret with her to last a lifetime, and she hardly wanted to deal with someone else’s. But she also knows she’s supposed to be playing nice. Pretending to care about things like the problems of others. It’s the way to make friends, and friends are stepping stones to a better life. Which, at this point, Syrena barely has. A life, that is. She mostly wallows around the Falls pretending like she belongs, or is vaguely useful. Not that she is actually either of these things.

But then the girl speaks, the sadness formed into actual words. And this, Syrena knows, she cannot ignore (well, she can, but shouldn’t). One ear flicks in the girls direction, listening, though nothing like pity crosses her face. But what good is pity anyway? It hardly gets either one of them anywhere, but just makes them both sad. “Come,” she says after a moment, not explaining, but wading deeper into the sea. The salt water requires some effort to stay afloat, but not as much actually standing.

Thankfully, the sea is calm today, the waves relatively gentle. Syrena leads the girl deeper into the sea until they get to a place where the water is deep enough to float, but not deep enough to drown. “Is that at all better? The water is kind to joints and bones.” She’s no healer, but she knows the sea. She knows how tender the waves can be, how the water will caress and take away the pain. She may not be all that kind, but she will share the joys of the sea. It is the only thing that truly makes her happy, and at least in this, she is not selfish with that joy.

“Could you not find a magic that gives you strength?” Her passive magic is not draining. Her skin simply changes colors, and out this deep, she’s almost completely painted in shades of blues and purples. But this skill does not tired her, does not take energy or strength. But she asks the girl, because it’s not as if she understands the finer points of diseases and how they work. So the question is, actually, just a question, and not an accusation.

The girl talks more of magic though, admitting to liking dark things. This perks Syrena’s interest. Someone who wasn’t afraid of the shadows? What of monsters?, she wonders, finding it terribly strange that she’s fallen so easily into a conversation with a child. “What sort of dark magic’s have you come across?” she asks, actually interested. Go freaking figure, a little girl is quickly becoming one of her favorite companions.

"words"

darya87 | larfsalot
on deviantart


@Bathsheba omg I'm so sorry, I completely forgot I hadn't replied to this!

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Bathsheba Posts: 45
Outcast
Filly :: Hybrid :: 16.3 hh :: II years
Kansas
#8
Eat me up,
I'm dead inside.
'Come' she says and Bathsheba watches with interest as she begins to wade deeper into the waves, licking, crashing, loving on that red skin, painting it blue. So very blue, the girl takes a moment to twist around, pale eyes taking in the greys and whites that mottle and shape her own unique colors. Not like hers though, not like- "What is your name?" she asked as young legs directed her out to deeper waters alongside the mare. The mares whose skin began an eerie ascent into deeper shades of blue with robust purples highlighting joints and soft point. Amazement was becoming second nature as she followed without question, not an ounce of fear or concern went into the possibility of being drowned. Surely if the mare meant her harm than she would have done it already, if anything she seemed vaguely vexed that the filly had even showed up.

She knew this though, knew the familiar kneading motion of hard, liquid pressure against sore and aching muscles. Muscles she had taken to ignoring for a moment of excitement. They meandered slowly until it was no more than her head rising up from the lilting waves as compared to the larger mares back. She could smell the faint scent of her own fear and did what she could to compose herself, surely this mare would have done the deed by now if murder was her goal. "Oh... uhm. Well I haven't really seen much magic actually. But I hear about it all the time, and my Mother speaks of wonderful, fantastical things that magic can do." She responds, inhaling sharply against the soft massage of the ocean "The shadows are the best places to hide, so others can't find me. That's what my mother says. I pretend like I can do magic with them sometimes, since the meeting anyway. I want companion magic too! I want to be able to make the shadows dance and a companion to sing."


@Syrena it's fine! This is trash so we'll call it even :D

Syrena Posts: 207
Dragon's Throat Forger
Mare :: Hybrid :: 16.1 hh :: 7 years
Thelxiepeia :: Royal Rougarou :: Water Kyra
#9
Syrena
let the water take me
No, she meant no harm. She never did to females though. Men where always her prey, though now, she had no use for killing. It would be needless, and she never killed needlessly. Once, the souls of those stallions had fed her, had kept her alive. It was the way of the world when you were a predator. But Helovia had stripped her of the magic that made her a predator, and like all the other horses in this land, she was prey herself now. No longer a monster, and no longer a predator. She was nothing, really. Nothing in a land full of a few sometimes and plenty, plenty of nothings.

What is your name? the girl asks, cutting into the thoughts that always weight on Syrena’s mind when she comes to the sea (or really, the thoughts that simply always weigh on her mind). “Syrena,” she says, not reluctant to offer her name, but rather never really caring much for names. Not unless they were important, and rarely did they prove to be important. She turns an eye though, keeping watch on the girl, sure to stop where she won’t be in any danger. Not, that Syrena couldn’t have her. Likely, she could, but in the end she’d rather that need not even come up. It seemed easier to avoid it all together.

She smiles slightly at the girls answer. In the end, the magic she dreams of is still relatively harmless. It is not the normal pretty things little girls dream of, certainly, the desire to manipulate the shadows. But it’s also clear that she only wants the powers to give herself the ability to hide. Which, Syrnea can’t blame her for. But it is not dark in the way Syrena thinks of dark. But then again, what other horses really longed for black powers in the way the one siren did? None that she’d found so far. “I don’t see why you can’t have those things,” she says, almost kindly. Her voice is still deadpan, yes, but there’s an unusual softness to it. “Those things do not eat away at your bones. You may simply have to be careful how much you use it, so it does not tire you.” Not that she really knows, but still, it doesn't stop her from offering an opinion anyway.

She tugs at her own magic then, pulling at the plants the live on the bottom of the sea until they grow all around them, the weeds growing impossibly long. Syrena is careful not to grow the ones too near where they stand, because she cannot control where the plants go, and she does not want to tangle the girl. Though worst case, she could shrink them back down. “My active magic is tiring in a way the color changing is not, but only slightly.” Though of course, even her active magic is more of a parlor trick. It’s not the magic she really seeks. But that magic is deep and dark, and does not need to be shared with little girls.

"words"

darya87 | larfsalot
on deviantart


@Bathsheba

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