the Rift


[PRIVATE] salt mines

Kid Posts: 122
Outcast atk: 4 | def: 8.5 | dam: 6.5
Colt :: Equine :: 15hh :: 3 years HP: 63 | Buff: NOVICE
dark
#1
I'd failed to label the animal even though its name had lingered at the back of my mind (Sphinx, sphinx— the Greek Sphinx), a winged beast with a serpentine tail and lion body, given eagle wings just for added measure. And to top it all off, I lost. I went and fucked up and lost my chance at getting something incredible— something desirable. What do I do now? I get pissy, I crinkle up my brows and I wish that hell rained down upon the world— I wish that I could bring that hell, could bait it with wicked words and lure it over this shitty place and hope someone suffers (someone who isn't me). I'm just trying to get one good thing out of life, one sweet spot out of this bitter rut that I'm trapped in, and I get nothing. A cheek touch from a wispy ghost that nearly made me shit myself was all I earned for the stress and strain that game brought me.

And what's really fueling my fires is who specifically won this fantastic prize— I'll give a moment for you to think. Yes, the one and only— that grullo girl with a temper and enough sass to maybe surprise me here and there. It was her who was favoured by that thing, her who was chosen to take within her a precious orb of magic. And me? Nothing. I watched the beast carefully, the way he deemed her worthy of whatever it was she received. What about me? Don't I deserve something more than some ghastly affections from some mongrel? Apparently not.

I was only going to be quietly outraged about the results of the game, until I caught that look the girl gave me before turning away from the losers— turning her back like she was better, like she was the one with a glittering crown on her head and magic at her whim (oh wait). It made my blood boil to see her stare directly at me so triumphantly, like she knew exactly how to push my buttons. This was the second failure (in what, a month? Two?), and I am no graceful loser— I am a hellbender, a true fiery king for my chaotic temper that can consume all in its path.

I follow her, burning bubblegum caught up on the grullo backside as she picked her way through the forest, mismatched hooves working tirelessly to get to her. "Alright, listen here—" I begin, in no mood for any sort of quick greetings or the like. Straight (ha) to the point, blunt and threateningly toxic as the words come pouring out of my mouth in rapid succession. "You better have gotten some cool shit or else I'm going to be pissed." I catch up to her on short legs (damn Mother for her lack of height), thick hind quarters carrying me the final stretch to my intended target. I'm so tempted to take my right shoulder and give her a nice friendly hit into the nearest tree, but play it safe for the time being as I keep my eyes fixed solely on her (I know these trees well enough to avoid their gnarled roots). I hope she doesn't.

"Talk."
kid
run my reputation.

image | coding

@Oizys

made by reli

tag me in everything

Oizys Posts: 134
Aurora Basin Soldier atk: 7.0 | def: 8.5 | dam: 6.5
Mare :: Hybrid :: 17hh :: 2 HP: 73.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Ker :: Philippine Eagle :: Curse Snow
#2


She is not alone.

Ker - who is sheepishly perched on the gargoyle's large haunches, having been firmly scolded for her act of cowardice when the orb came towards them - gives a short trill of warning and lends Oizys her sharp eyes, which she uses to observe Kid approaching them. Oh, joy. She wants to be alone, to try and work out what new power is flooding through her, and yet he just has to come and piss on her chips.

Now is really not a good time for her to be around him, not when she's in a good mood and full of high spirits after the acquiring of an apparent magical ability. It's times like these when she's more susceptible to letting her guard down and allowing the Feels to creep right on in. If she interacts with him now, the sympathy might just take control of her, and god dammit, she can't risk that happening. These are emotions that must be summarily purged from her very soul if she is ever to become great, as she knows she must; not to mention the fact he seems to be a perceptive little shit and she doesn't want him realising her weakness. He'd mocked her just for her horns, she can scarcely imagine what he'd do if he found out about her Feels. He'd probably piss himself with delight.

She rather wishes she knew what her magic was already, so she could use it on him.

Instead, she glances at him as he pulls up close. She's in too good a mood to feel particularly ill-tempered even when he's all up in her personal space, but she summons up an irritated expression to cast across her face, just because that's what he'll expect to see. She'd hate to disappoint him! "Just call me Queen Bullshit." She laughs, hard, harsh. If the roles were reversed and he'd got the orb, she'd be as pissed as hell and full of salty delights, so she can only imagine how this must be killing him. The bitch wants to brag and boast about how she won, how he lost, etc etc, but she just doesn't have it in her, much to her dismay. Anybody else, and she'd do so without blinking, but because of her god damn Feels, the insulting words just jam in her throat.

"How the hell do I know what I've got, though? Is it like a...button you press?" She looks him up and down, hating the fact she's asking him a question and yet unable to smother the words as they leave her. "You've got magic, right? Every other fucker and his dog seems to be born with it - so how do you use it?" Her tri-horned head tilts at him, her cold grey eyes inscrutible.

O I Z Y S
I'M NOT A HERO, I'M A LIAR
I'M NOT A SAVIOUR, I'M A VAMPIRE
image credits


@Kid

[ the gargoyle queen ]
OIZYS IS ALWAYS RATED M FOR STRONG LANGAUGE IN HER POSTS




Kid Posts: 122
Outcast atk: 4 | def: 8.5 | dam: 6.5
Colt :: Equine :: 15hh :: 3 years HP: 63 | Buff: NOVICE
dark
#3
It brings me great pleasure to see her face contort at the sight of me, onyx features souring into irritation as I near her. A smile draws over my lips, shit eating and sly— as much as I wanted to wring her neck for being momentarily better than me, my mood significantly improved at the sight of her displeasure. "Come on now, I'm the one who should be making that face. You just won something against me." I emphasize me because— it's me. Obviously it's a big deal she won something when I was there, I'm sure if I hadn't blanked out and been a fucking idiot (stupid), I would've been the one winning the magic (but I didn't because I'm a spacey moron). And we hadn't officially been competing head to head for that orb, but I certainly felt there had been sparks of competition in the way our voices dropped and eyes met, surrounded by so many others but focused solely on one another.

Listening to her laugh makes my ears fall back, a moment of disgust falling over skeletal features at the sound of it. Did she ever laugh? With the harshness of her chuckle I was almost assured the answer— no. She's just as cold as I remember. "Yeah okay, call me King Chickenshit and we have a deal." The sarcasm oozes between the words, dripping from my lips as bubblegum rolls in response to her demands. Like I'd ever actually call her a queen, she's definitely something less— nice, something far less powerful and pleasant as a queen. Besides, queens are normally the pretty, deceiving counterparts to hetero kings, with their dolled up faces and gentle etiquette. They were the wise whispers to a tempered king, keen and quiet in their work— they were not weak or foolish (at least not all), with wicked plots and full control, they could do as they pleased and look as innocent and feeble as ever.

This girl seemed everything of the sort, guided to a future of deception and cunning— but she had a hidden rage that no queen does. Perhaps instead of a queen she's something associated less with kind royalty and more with raw power— an empress? Ha, not. She's probably a witch with wrinkled green skin and hairy moles, one who'll point her twisted finger in your direction and murmur some bullshit and peer at you from crooked eyes before turning her back and disappearing into the night. Sounds about right.

I didn't expect her to ask me a question (let alone three), my eyes drawn to her marred face as the words stumble from onyx lips. Grey roams over my stout figure as the words roll from her tongue, eyes wandering over my aging body as she finishes speaking and tilts her crowned head in confusion (the same way a dog would). I grin at her, brushing past the first question (yeah there's a button, right up your ass haha) in favour of the second, all more appealing question. "Yes I do, I've got the magic ability to make everyone I meet love me!" I bat my lashes and the shit eating grin only spreads, a low chuckle falling from bi-coloured lips as I await her reaction. "Just kidding, that's just my natural charm." I wink for emphasis, bull shitting my way along. I'm actually fairly certain a good fraction of Helovia's population hates my guts (even if I've never met them) for all the shit I said when I was younger and stupid (still am, always will be).

"No, my actual magic is this." Hooves feel over the earth as I search for a stone, running over a few pebbles but nothing impressive, my brows knitting momentarily as I decide on a sizable rock. Positioning myself so that she could see my entire left side, I make sure everything is in position— glancing at her to make sure she's still paying attention— and raise my left hoof. The leg draws back as my body falls into such a familiar routine, the comforting pop of my leg as it locks into place, cocked and ready— in an instant it snaps forward, releasing the tension built up in the muscles of my thigh as my hoof strikes out against the stone and launches it through the air. With my neck twisted to view it fly, I listen to the sound of it hit something off in the distance, swallowed up in the trunk of some ancient tree (probably). Macabre marked head swings in subtle excitement as I look at her, hoping for a genuine reaction (not something shitty, although I could take that too I guess) to my display of magic. "It was a while ago that I learned about it," I remember the day very clearly though, only because that was the same day I met the Mountain. She had ushered me to practice aiming with the help of her magic (gifted from her father), but being the little shit I was, I told her off— told her that I didn't need any sort of help from someone like her. I wish I could find her again, to show her that I've overcome Mother's sickening grasp on my opinions and flourished into my own person. "It came to me like an itch, an urge. It was like my body was telling me 'do this!' As I had no idea what 'this' was, I tried to relax and let that feeling build up to see what would happen, and my body performed the act on its own. Now it's just something I can ease into, it's kinda become muscle memory." I shrug my shoulders as my lips closed and the sentence ended, as I don't know shit about this topic. Yes, I've got magic, but that doesn't mean I know anything else about it— I'm not some magic guru who after learning about it, spent years (hell, I'm not even a year old) researching it and mastering it. I have no idea if other people experience the same feeling when they earn their magic, if they let their body perform it on its own or spend hours contemplating the approach they should take to unlock the secrets behind it.

"Talk."
kid
run my reputation.

image | coding

@Oizys

made by reli

tag me in everything

Oizys Posts: 134
Aurora Basin Soldier atk: 7.0 | def: 8.5 | dam: 6.5
Mare :: Hybrid :: 17hh :: 2 HP: 73.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Ker :: Philippine Eagle :: Curse Snow
#4


He is the first to remark on the fact she won, and a shit-eating grin spreads slowly across her mutilated face. Well, she wasn't going to mention it, but since he brought it up..."Not too bad for somebody so inferior that my father should have slayed me at birth, hmm? The daughter of a lazy idiot and a failure?" God bless her memory; she rarely forgets insults against her, because how else will she gain vengeance? Of course, all thoughts of vengeance against this boy have been dropped when he hinted about his mother and resulted in her dreaded Feels bursting right on through, but that doesn't mean she can't use his previous words as a stick to beat him with.

His next words - against her better judgement, given that they're so obviously sarcastic - incite a true belly laugh in her, one that bubbles out of her lips and lacks any of the icelike harshness of her previous one. Her grey eyes widen, alarmed, and she makes a garbled attempt to turn the laugh into her usual frigid chortle before he notices the fact he's actually genuinely amused her, but it just results in a sound akin to a dog being fisted (or so she imagines). Embarassment burns the skin beneath her fur and she lashes her tail harder than necessary against her flanks, as though self-flagellation will undo the sound that burst unbidden from her chest. For fuck's sake. How does this boy bring out these things in her? All those disgusting little things that she would dearly love to purge out of herself - empathy, understanding, the ability to laugh with someone rather than at them - seem to erupt in his presence. It's really rather alarming.

He remarks that he has the magical ability to make everyone he meets love him, and this time Oizys manages to murder the laugh before it ever comes into existence. "Well damn, and here was me thinking you had the magical ability to make everyone you meet want to ram their inferior horns so far up your ass, you'll shit out of your nostrils for the rest of your life." Her dry remark is said with the slightest trace of contempt, a healthy dose of sarcasm, and just the tiniest hint of genuine well-meant humour.

He then proceeds to show her his actual magic, and she watches with an impassive eye. Shit, it's actually pretty cool. He sends a stone flying with such force that she imagines it could shatter bones if it was directed at a living creature (and, indeed, she's half-surprised that he didn't seize the opportunity to aim it at her). She fights to school her face into neutrality, but fails miserably - despite her desire, approval lights up her stony gaze. "Hmmph. If mine's something shitty like making flowers come out of people's assholes, I'm going to be just as pissed as you." What would Father think, if she was blessed - cursed - with a useless magic? She wants to be like him, horse by day but serpentine hunter by night; she wants to incite fear into the hearts of her enemies with her magic.

He explains that he found the urge to use magic was like an itch; she desperately hunts her body for anything itchy, but only finds a burr stuck in her tail-hair from her trek through the forest. Not helpful. "Alright, let's give this a shot. I'll try and keep my flowers from your backside, if that is what my power is." She inserts just enough ambiguity into her tones to hopefully make him worry that she would, in fact, deliberately send his ass into full bloom.

The gargoyle closes her eyes, safe in the knowledge that Ker will warn her if the colt tries any funny business whilst she's unawares, and focuses her full concentration inside herself. She searches, hunts for any urge, any impulse; for a while her search is fruitless and she wonders if the antlered creature was just having a laugh with her and that she hasn't actually got any new magic. But then - aha! - she finds it; a nub of raw power, nestled deep within her mind. She delves into it, draws out its content, milks it dry...

The air next to her sizzles, and from a little patch of sky erupts a creature the size of a horse. The size of a horse, yes, but where a horse is made of flesh and bone, this is made of electricity - livid blue-black electricity, crackling with such force she can almost taste it. "Woahhhhhhh," is the only sound she can make; she's sure this spark-horse is of her creation, because her strength is suddenly sapped and she feels as though she's ran a marathon. She nudges the nub of magic, exploratory, and the spark-horse trots around. It is clearly not sentient, because its presence in her mind is not like Ker's, with emotions and feeling. It is simply pure spark, channelled into the shape of a horse.

She focuses on Ker, pictures an eagle in her mind; next to the spark-horse, a spark-eagle bursts into sizzling life. This time, the sap on the gargoyle's strength makes her legs wobble, but she'll be damned if she's going to collapse when she has this new power at her fingertips. Ker, alarmed and disgusted at this shocking interloper, flies towards the spark-eagle with talons outstretched, howling her war-cry into the heavens....

ZAP! The Philippine squeals in pain as she touches the creature and is electrocuted by it, her feathers bristling and her eyes rolling. Through their bond, Oizys feels the burn of the shock, like what she feels when she touches Mother's skin when she has her thunder-shield up. The spark-eagle fades, burning out like a dead star, leaving just the horse. It is only the same size as Oizys herself, a mere foal, but it crackles with power and nefarious intent.

She looks at Kid, her eyes wide with awe at her own ability, for some reason (that she can't fathom) interested in his reaction.

O I Z Y S
I'M NOT A HERO, I'M A LIAR
I'M NOT A SAVIOUR, I'M A VAMPIRE
image credits


@Kid

[ the gargoyle queen ]
OIZYS IS ALWAYS RATED M FOR STRONG LANGAUGE IN HER POSTS




Kid Posts: 122
Outcast atk: 4 | def: 8.5 | dam: 6.5
Colt :: Equine :: 15hh :: 3 years HP: 63 | Buff: NOVICE
dark
#5
My stomach contorts and ears fall back as she so easily brings up our first conversation, how little ol' me preached of her inferiority because she had budding black horns on her brow. And now it's come to light, the feeling of such acidic words dripping from milk stained lips— bubblegum darkening at the mention of those sickening ideas I'd been fed (by none other than Mother). I look away from the grulla, ears reaching for my skull as I try to pick up the pieces of what past me had broken. My face contorts momentarily as I try to come up with the correct response, the mending words to heal the old wounds. "I was an idiot," looking up to meet blue-grey eyes as I search for something (forgive me) as my words resume, quieter now as my confidence melts away (I'm not even mad anymore). "Still am, but I'm not in blind pursuit of my mother's favour anymore." Too much happened over the months we didn't see each other, too much to explain to her (to tell her she was the first unicorn that I ever thought was okay). And then, rather than fall sullen and quiet in my moments of self loathing for the pure idiocy of myself, I shrug my shoulders teasingly at the filly and smile subtly. "Yeah, you were alright." The sarcasm finds its way to my words as I look over at her (that's as much as she's gonna get from me), from gently turned corners to a full on grin as the words fall from my tongue.

I almost yelp in absolute shock at her laugh, eyes drawn to the gaping maw as her genuine laughter spills out— it's almost nice to hear her laugh (to have her laugh from my words), to know that my shit (ha) humour amuses her. It ends abruptly (and very quickly) when from her lips falls a disastrous, vile sound that makes me think someone just crammed a foot up a poor animals ass without warning (rest in peace, buddy). I start laughing solely for that reason, caught up in a giggle fit as I witness her tail slap against her skin forcefully, eyes drawn to it as the sound hits my ears. "I'm taking that as a yes, you know. Now the world can bow before Queen Bullshit and King Chickenshit," I grin stupidly and puff my chest out a little bit, trying to make myself look like some bulking, powerful king (to which I am not, yet).  The laughter ebbs away, remembered only with the smile plastered to my face as she attempts to change the subject from her infectious laughter to something almost as equally amusing.

Had I been older, I would probably have cracked several (several) vulgar jokes at the idea of someone ramming an object into my ass. But because I'm still young and pure as fresh snow (not), the jokes remain hidden behind clenched teeth. Would she even understand the vulgarity behind my antics? Probably, she did just insinuate such boorish humour in the first place. Before I can even register that which leaves my lips, the words tumble along and I just smile and pretend it was what I meant to do (which it was not). "On the list of things that aren't going up my ass, that is one of them." I am not letting anything that sharp come anywhere near my asshole (I'm gonna need it later), especially not a horn attached to another individual. No fucking way. I'll do some shit, but not that shit (and excreting out of my nostrils sounds like it would be a disaster).  

The dismal storm grey witnesses my magic at work, bubblegum sifting through the false disinterest and witnessing there the approval— the dull illumination of subtle blue eyes as she witnesses my magic (that's right, be in awe). "Well, if it is, we're gonna have some lovely assholes running around Helovia. Maybe it'll become a new trend." I shrug, mischievous grin settled on the onyx features of the filly as she stands there silently for a moment, eyes drawn to the bulk of her body (she's gonna be taller than me, god dammit). She says (not very convincingly) that she'll try to keep me from budding out the back, my ears falling back and an unconvinced expression befalling macabre features. The sarcasm pours out of me naturally, snorting in appreciation at her promised attempt to keep me from her magic's touch. "Wow, thanks." There's several passing moments, ears on a swivel in wait for the moment where something happened— at least twice I turned my head and wiggled my butt to make sure there were wasn't a full bouquet of budding flowers peeking from beneath my tail (there wasn't).  

I notice the shift in the air, the smell of static as the hair in my mane begins to stand on end with the summoning of something great. And there, before us, is a crackling equine who stands at shoulder height to the girl— the equine is nothing like us though, make with pure electricity sizzling beneath its raw form. Pink eyes swallow everything up, the arching electricity a threatening force as another super charged creature comes to exist— this one is an eagle, matching her companion (although nothing solid, purely energy). The companion screams in outrage (disgust?) at this new competition, barreling in for attack with talons at the ready, eager to shred the crackling figure. The moment the spark-eagle dispels its powerful shock against the other raptor, it dissipates into nothing but a sizzling plume.

With my mouth agape and eyes wide, I turn back to the grulla and grin. "Holy shit." Her own face was in awe at the power she now possessed— it makes me think maybe she had thought she was given the ability to bring a touch of spring out of an unfortunate asshole.

"Talk."
kid
run my reputation.

image | coding

@Oizys

made by reli

tag me in everything

Oizys Posts: 134
Aurora Basin Soldier atk: 7.0 | def: 8.5 | dam: 6.5
Mare :: Hybrid :: 17hh :: 2 HP: 73.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Ker :: Philippine Eagle :: Curse Snow
#6


He glances away, and then looks directly at her; she narrows her eyes, suspicious. I'm not in blind pursuit of my mother's favour anymore. She tenses, then softens, all in one fluid movement, as the implications of this dart through her head. Lucky him. This news is....good, she thinks. Not just because this will hopefully prevent any budding bubblings of sympathy in her soul, but also because she knows that such an addictive relationship with a parent is not healthy. Kid with his mother, Oizys with her father. The only difference is that Kid has realised this and done something about it. Oizys...she cannot. Will not. She refuses to acknowledge that this is weakness, that such blind servitude to Father cannot possibly be healthy.

If it's weakness to be so subjugated to a parent's will but do nothing about it, then perhaps the gargoyle queen is weak, after all. Or maybe she's just a fucking fool, because a part of her thrives on her obsession with Father; part of her lives for the way she seeks his approval. She exists to do his bidding, to be his grey-clad minion with a heart of steel and veins of iron.

But she's happy for Kid that he has managed to make that break, to steel his resolve and shift away from that abusive relationship. She is actually, genuinely pleased for him, this loudmouthed colt with his insults and his dry humour and his ability to incite emotions in her that she didn't know she could feel. She's happy for him, even though she thought she hated him - apparently, she doesn't. It's nice, not to hate him. And it's nice to be able to appreciate his decision and the strength it must have took. It's nice to know she has this kinship with somebody, that he isn't such an asshole after all, and that maybe they can move on from this towards something...more.

"That's...good news, Kid. Really." Her voice is surprisingly soft and devoid of its usual ill-tempered sarcasm. He acknowledges that she was alright, and she offers a toothy grin - one that, for once, reaches her cold stone eyes. But, because those words run the risk of exposing some hint of a heart, she quickly shifts to harden her features and draw her voice back into its usual drawling, harsh tones. "Now now, don't go getting all soppy on me, shit-face. You're an offensive dick, I'm an odious bitch, remember?" She can't have her Feels be too obvious, now. They're better when they're insulting each other, even if her insults now lack the venom they held during their first meeting.

He laughs at her laugh, even her shitty attempt to disguise it. He dubs them King Chickenshit and Queen Bullshit, and she snorts heartily. "Fuck, yeah." The world ain't gonna know what's hit it.

She raises a scarred brow as he mentions things that aren't going up his ass - a vulgar chuckle leaves her lips. "Same. That door's strictly exit only." The thought makes her shudder. But this particular ass-related conversation is cut down in its prime, as her magic erupts into existence and everything else fades into the background.

Ker's anguished whimpers draw Oizys' attention away from her spark-horse and towards her eagle. Man up, woman, it didn't hurt that bad. The raptor screeches loudly and obnoxiously, and flutters away to a nearby tree to preen her scorched feathers. The gargoyle, meanwhile, looks to Kid, who (to her considerable delight) seems just as chuffed as she is about her new power. "How fucking awesome is that? That antlered guy did goooood." The electric horse trots around beside its creator, sizzling happily into the air. She wonders how long she can keep it around; her strength begs for mercy, but she refuses to relinquish her hold on it just yet.

O I Z Y S
I'M NOT A HERO, I'M A LIAR
I'M NOT A SAVIOUR, I'M A VAMPIRE
image credits


@Kid

[ the gargoyle queen ]
OIZYS IS ALWAYS RATED M FOR STRONG LANGAUGE IN HER POSTS




Kid Posts: 122
Outcast atk: 4 | def: 8.5 | dam: 6.5
Colt :: Equine :: 15hh :: 3 years HP: 63 | Buff: NOVICE
dark
#7
Soft. Her voice is so unexpectedly soft, my ears strain to recognize it as hers. This kind of tone may never be heard again, a rarity for her to offer a moment of vulnerability. It seems so uncharacteristically genuine, this welcoming warmth. Where I've become used to the devoid, harsh tones that taint her lips, so much so that this is rather off putting (and weird). If the words weren't enough, the smile definitely was. It spreads from her lips, corners upturned and eyes brightening as she gazes up at me. The quiet grey of her eyes lightens as she grins, and as much as I'd love to take a minute to poke fun at the genuine emotions expressed from her, my lips remain sealed. She'd probably beat the shit out of me anyway (or make flowers grow out of my ass).

The smile splits across my face, even as the cold words melt from her lips and the momentary tenderness falls apart before me. I almost (almost) miss those three sweet seconds of emotion, of more than salted syllables (meant in an almost friendly manner)— but no, the favoured moments of peace are washed away (to be forgotten). The sarcasm returns, insults pouring in to fill the silence. "Hey— I wasn't the one getting sappy, it was definitely you." I mimic a gagging sound, looking to the onyx filly in false disgust. "I'm not trying to get all touchy feely right now, especially with you." My nose wrinkles up and I manage to (very briefly) hide my grin. Beneath the harsh words is a sense of (what is this?) friendliness, an awkwardly foreign feeling that makes me realize that I'm lacking in the "friend" department.  Over the months I've walked this earth, I've neglected to gather any friends, having a wonderful sum of zero. Zip. Zilch. I ain't got shit, completely on my own

Zhu, well, he doesn't necessarily count. We're bound in blood (even if we didn't realize it originally), we have no choice. We're also natural born competition— from the moment we were born we were set on a path leading to kinghood (to glory, to power), an unspoken competition between us. Using our resources, we barreled towards victory (neck and neck), desperate for the success of domination. Maybe once upon a time we had a chance to become powerful companions (perhaps we still do), comrades to rule side by side with iron fists and steady hands. Zhu is no friend of mine.

But this girl (Queen Bullshit, her royal bitchiness), could perhaps be considered something close to that of a friend (for are we truly friends?). The question brews, wondering if this little shit could have a chance at becoming a friend of mine one day, if we could come to terms with one another and live in temporary peace. Probably not. Perhaps we'll stay just like this, with our sarcastic comments and shitty insults, making fun of one another in tandem (maybe we'll grow into cranky old horses together).

Somewhere, a vast emptiness wells, expanding in the corner of my being at the realization of my solidarity. Who was here for me now, who would be here for me later? No one. Maybe there were a few who preached their loyalty, but they only did so because we were brought together through our shared blood (Volterra, Mother, Zhu, Sabre). It was all just me, myself, and I. Maybe I'd like it better this way, where I was distant and destructive, cataclysmic and powerful on my own— I would become the capricious king of an empty kingdom, fated to crumbling ruins and a towering ego.  

I can't relate to the exit only comment (what can I say, I've got a future full of magical mind blowing sex), instead just nodding my head along to her words (sure, Jan). Obviously at this point, sex is just something I know about (thanks, Mother)— it's a foreign concept that just seems so unappealing. I don't want to put that anywhere (no fucking way).

"He knows what's up. Shit, that's so much cooler than mine!" Damn, my magic looked like jack shit compared to Queen Bullshit's— she made a static horse for fuck's sake. All I could do was kick rocks at high velocities and hope they did something useful. "Are you the one controlling it? What else can it do?" I watch the sizzling skin carefully, bubblegum trained to follow the movements of the magic equine as it pranced along beside its summoner.

"Talk."
kid
run my reputation.

image | coding

@Oizys

made by reli

tag me in everything

Oizys Posts: 134
Aurora Basin Soldier atk: 7.0 | def: 8.5 | dam: 6.5
Mare :: Hybrid :: 17hh :: 2 HP: 73.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Ker :: Philippine Eagle :: Curse Snow
#8


He mimes gagging, and she huffs, mock-offended. "Yeah, well, don't tell anybody about that or your ass will be in full bloom until you're five." Either that or she'd create an electrical worm and send that up there. That would be interesting...although he might well enjoy it.

Like him, the gargoyle has no friends except for her twin. With her abrasive personality, vulgar mouth and uncanny knack of pushing people away (because she doesn't want to feel), she hardly makes for an excellent comrade. This boy, who she thought she hated, is...the closest she's come to something like that. There's similarities in them, she thinks. They're both subservient to one particular parent - although Kid, unlike Oizys, has begun the long road to breaking those chains - so they both know pain, they both know suffering. Oizys' scars are livid upon her face; Kid's are undoubtedly inside, where they're less obvious but no less painful. They both hide their emotions behind a coat of hard steel, behind brash words and bolshy arrogance, behind vulgarity and near-to-the-knuckle banter. They both ripple with untold potential; king and queen of the damned.

They are kindred spirits. It's strange for the girl to admit this, to acknowledge it, but it's true. And that's why they could be headed down a road she never anticipated when she first met him - a road towards friendship.

He concedes that her magic is so much cooler than his, and whilst she's inclined to agree (naturally - even a twisted shrew like her loves a compliment), she thinks he's doing himself down a bit. "Oh, I don't know so much - being able to put a stone through somebody's skull is pretty fucking awesome as well. Just don't try it on me, or I'll give you electric shock therapy to the dick." He might like that, too. He asks what else her magic can do, if she's controlling it, and she frowns for a moment. "I'm...sort of controlling it, but also....not? It's not like a living, sentient thing in my head that I can command, like Ker is. It's just like....an energy. An impulse. It's tiring as balls though, seriously. I can feel my strength draining." Her legs are quite wobbly, and her weak little heart is pounding valiantly in her chest to try and keep her from physically staggering.

The horse trots closer to Kid, sizzles nearby. "Touch it, I dare ya." She flashes him a dark wolf's grin. "I want to see how much it hurts. Seemed to sting a bit from what I could gather from Ker, but she's a fucking wimp, so I need a second opinion. You're a big brave boy, go on." She wiggles her brows at him.

O I Z Y S
I'M NOT A HERO, I'M A LIAR
I'M NOT A SAVIOUR, I'M A VAMPIRE
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@Kid

[ the gargoyle queen ]
OIZYS IS ALWAYS RATED M FOR STRONG LANGAUGE IN HER POSTS




Kid Posts: 122
Outcast atk: 4 | def: 8.5 | dam: 6.5
Colt :: Equine :: 15hh :: 3 years HP: 63 | Buff: NOVICE
dark
#9
A laugh escapes my lips, shit eating grin budding across skeletal features. "Well then I'd have the prettiest asshole around." (Although the flowers would prove an interesting obstacle for... things) Sure, it'd be comedic to see me with my ass in full bloom running around Helovia for several straight (not) years, but it'd get tiring eventually with the questions. "Excuse me, why is your ass so stunning flowering?" "Well you see, I tattled that my friend actually does have a heart and she exacted her revenge. That heart of hers is brittle and black." Yeah, no— I'm not wasting hours of my life retelling the story of how idiot me thought she wasn't serious and got fucked up as a result. Actions have consequences (as Volterra has begun to learn).

That is, to say, if she even has the magic ability to make buttholes beautiful (she doesn't).

She tells me I could put a stone through someone's head, could destroy their life with a single kick to a lucky pebble— my spine tingles at the idea, of burying a stone deep into someone's temple, taking away all their potential and leaving them to rot. Did I truly have that power, to render someone lifeless on such a whim? My eyes draw to the unicorn, brows furrowed as the thoughts continue to cling to me (I could end so many lives)— "yeah, awesome." The smile comes out poorly, failing to hide the pain of such a thought. I could become something even worse than Mother, even worse than all of my ancestors before me, staggering warriors suited to land a killing blow.

Would I ever land such a fatal strike?

Was I capable of wrenching someone's life away from them, leaving them for dead in some distant land where no one would even notice the corpse? Could I bring myself to take away everything, to kill without mercy? No. I had morals, I had limits. Murder, whether it was justified or not, was never going to be an act I committed. I may be keen on domination and destruction, but I can take without truly taking— I could leave them in crumbling ruins, could reign triumphant even if they still lived. Perhaps if I felt threatened enough, was pressured into it, I could commit the act of killing, but never leisurely do so. I couldn't waltz around destroying whomever I pleased, I could not do it for sport.

Would she ever do it? Would she ever take a life with no hesitation? She's still so young, it seems like such a far off possibility that she would ever try and kill someone. But with her magic, it could definitely be possible— she could do so much damage, could make others miserably inept with a simple conjuration of electric wild life. If she tried hard enough, worked relentlessly enough, she could be swift and kind in ending others— she could also be cruel and unforgiving in their execution. The true question is, would she do it?

I look at her in disbelief, she wanted me to touch it? My sullen mood lingers, adamant in looming over me as our conversation drifted ever forward. "Fucking hell, really? You can't touch it and see for yourself?" As much of a "big brave boy" as I was, the idea of making contact with something that sizzled and cracked and made the air so crisp in its presence was not at all ideal. Like hell I'd be touching that. But looking at her, wiggling her brows and anticipating my move— ah fuck it. I'll prove to her that I'm fearless, stepping forward to face the spark horse. I don't even hesitate.

My muzzle touches its shoulder as it trots at her side, a quiet gasp pulled from me as I make contact and feel it crackle against my skin, releasing all its stored power. I feel it ripple through me, a wild feeling that surges through each and every muscle, followed by a muffled hiss. As high of a pain tolerance as I had, this pain was sharp and jagged, random in its blows as my body succumbed to the feeling of coursing electricity. "First off, fuck you. Secondly, fuck your magic. And third, fuCK." I felt stupid for touching it, but fuck it— it's not like I had anything better to do with myself. "Next time, you're the one who's gonna do the stupid shit."

"Talk."
kid
run my reputation.

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@Oizys

made by reli

tag me in everything

Oizys Posts: 134
Aurora Basin Soldier atk: 7.0 | def: 8.5 | dam: 6.5
Mare :: Hybrid :: 17hh :: 2 HP: 73.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Ker :: Philippine Eagle :: Curse Snow
#10
OMG WHAT I DIDN'T EVEN SEE YOU'D REPLIED TO THIS AJOSODUHUIG


He doesn't know she has already killed.

Well, it wasn't her who landed the final blow upon the bay woman - that was all Father's work - but he'd tilted back the corpse's head and commanded his daughters to feast. Oizys had gone so, gleefully. She had sliced her horns across the throat, gashed it until it squirted blood, then bathed in the last remnants of the mare's life. The memory brings a shudder of delight to the gargoyle's form. She'd inherited her mother's sharp wit, but none of her morals. Oh, no - in that aspect, she's definitely a daddy's girl.

A part of her knows that the taking of life is not something that should be done freely, remorselessly. But her sire's genetics say otherwise. They tell her that killing is beautiful, that it is the simplest and most primal way to exert dominance over another creature. To send them into the abyss, to have that power to cut away their life and leave them screaming in the blackness....it holds an allure that the gargoyle simply cannot deny.

After all, she has seen the abyss. She thinks that she died for a bit, on the day of her birth when the harpy ripped open her face and left her bleeding. She saw nothingness, she saw her own life ebbing away like a dying star...and she was hauled back from the brink. What more could she want, than to condemn another to an eternity of that?

But, thankfully, Kid knows none of this. She hopes he never will - these impulses of hers aren't the sort of thing to share in friendly conversation.

She shoots him a shit-eating grin as he asks why she can't touch it herself. "It might not shock me 'cos I created it. My own instincts might make it fizzle away if I try to touch it." This is all bullshit, of course - the filly is quite sure her creation would shock her as easily as it'll shock anything else - but there's no fun in electrocuting herself. She'll probably test it on herself at a later date, but right now she wants to see what Kid makes of it. And she's not disappointed.

He touches it with his muzzle, and his reaction tells Oizys quite how much it actually hurts. The spark-beast crackles away into nothingness as soon as he makes contact with it, and she feels some of her strength restored now she's not maintaining it anymore. "It hurts, then? Awesome." She beams joyously, thrilled. Maybe Ker isn't such a shithouse after all - the eagle gives an offended hoot.

But, she realises with a resigned sigh, it's hardly fair of her to ask him to do that for nothing in return. Mother taught her about a favour for a favour, after all. "Ahh, c'mon then, I suppose I owe you one. I'll let you use me for target practice." She wanders a few steps away and stands side-on to him, between two trees. "Just don't aim for my head, alright? I've got no intentions of dying yet, and if you kill me I swear to God I'll haunt your ass for the rest of your life. You won't be getting any sex ever when my ghost pops up to scare your fuck-partner away each time you get a hard-on." Now this is a threat she thinks he'll understand.

She hardens her muscles and silently hopes it doesn't hurt too much, or, worse, drive a hole through her body. That would be not-fun.

O I Z Y S
I'M NOT A HERO, I'M A LIAR
I'M NOT A SAVIOUR, I'M A VAMPIRE
image credits


@Kid

[ the gargoyle queen ]
OIZYS IS ALWAYS RATED M FOR STRONG LANGAUGE IN HER POSTS





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