the Rift

[OPEN] cerndyr games

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


sweet bitter words, unlike nothing I have heard:

"Hah!" I announce, releasing all the muscular control  that had aided my silence for speed, pouncing around the circumference of a particularly broad tree that I was, until now, sure Duir was hiding behind.  Instead of my buck, however, the sound which had alerted me to life behind this oak is a pair of rabbits, who take off into the forest with terror writ across their faces, one of them trailing a high pitched, bunny scream on its way.
I shake my head, ears ringing from the feminine cry and, to be perfectly honest, mildly annoyed that the deer is so good at this game.  I guess I should have figured; it was his idea, and he was still moderately miffed at me for fighting that old guy.  People rarely loose the games they initiate, especially when justly pissed, and I have to admit I was eager to take my mind away from how terribly hot it is today; I’m equally glad to have Duir’s actual companionship again, rather than cold shoulders and haughty, hateful glares, so I try my best to keep playing even though I’m obviously pretty bad at it. 
Mentally, a ribbon of energetic delight at still thwarting me trills through me senses; my eyes narrow and I peer through the tree line for any shimmer of gold, or the smallest movement or sound, hoping he’ll reveal himself on accident. 
He doesn’t. 
I shouldn’t have said he could move, I think to myself as I resume my quiet prowling, not having invented this game we’re playing, and having foolishly thought I’d be better at it than he was.  I’m not; he’s eluded me for long enough to start and get on my nerves, which he thinks is moderately amusing, as well. 
A sudden idea takes me, one that I try my best to obscure from Duir, who is really good at picking up from my bends of mood about what is coming next.  Already, I feel him tense up, watching me from wherever he is, as I begin to meander my way over to a nearby brook, as if I’ve given up the game, or am taking a break for a drink.  I take the time to add a casual sway to my tail as I lower my head to the water, ears clandestinely searching for sounds sure to be roused by the curious, young buck.  It works better than I thought it would; the water is low and lazy from the lack of rain, allowing mirror surfaces to form.  In one of these aquatic, rippling frames, Duir’s gold rune embellished face peers around and out from a shrub and its accompanying tree, his large ears lifted, and listening.
So I lift my head like I’m done drinking, and I’m sure he tucks back behind the tree again like he has any time he thinks I might see him, but this time, I know where he is.  Trying my best to hide the smug, satisfied smile that threatens to explode across my face at any moment, I follow the river for a moment, just long enough to rocket my body into the space between the trees where Duir should be.  The shrubs crash and break around me, but I also know my friend, and I know he’s easy to get to jump with loud, sudden movements.
He’s not still there (because he’s not stupid), but it does startle him enough that he stumbles entirely out of hiding from the next tree over, and there is so much shock on his face for a moment that I can’t help but begin laughing like a colt at the whole ordeal.  Delighted at having finally been caught, the forest buck’s wary surprise quickly becomes several quick bounds to me, almost timed to the rolls of my laughter, embarrassed, as well as amused at it all himself.  He may also, in part, be mocking me slightly for taking as long as I had to find him, when he’d caught me almost immediately, especially because I’d made the mistake of telling him I was a good spy yesterday.
"You should have seen your face!" I mirthfully jest.
[ OOC:  In the forests surrounding the Ancient Rotunda! They aren’t far from the Rotunda itself, but can’t see it. For anyone! ]

sing along, mockingbird; you don't affect me.

Image by TheArtlex@DA

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

Aelin Posts: 67
Filly :: Pegasus :: 15 :: 2


Noises captured her attention, she turns her head towards them. Curiously she begins to pick her way through the greenery, eyes scanning her surroundings for however had been playing near by. It had fallen rather quiet now, a bird song picked up in the distance. Finally she says a figure through the bushes, and takes a step back, body tensing as she fears she might snap a twig. No, all remains silent on her side. As he makes his way over to the brook she wrestles with the uncertainty rising in her chest, thinking that she should leave him be. Just because she wanted to speak with him, make sure he was okay, didn't mean that that he would have any interest in speaking with her. She watches as he begins to drink then adverts her eyes to the canopy looking for an escape. If his father had beaten her to a pulp (even if she had been doing a questionable activity) she certainly wouldn't have any interest in seeing his child. Feeling rather depressed that she'd probably lost his friendship, surprising how others could quickly become important to you, she wanted nothing more than to escape before she was discovered.

The eagerness to escape grows when she noticed that he's finished drinking and has began moving closer to her hidden spot. Had he spotted her? This wasn't good. Ever so carefully she takes a few steps back painfully aware of how harsh he breathing had become. As he rockets his body into the space between the trees she uses the sounds to back further into the shrubbery until she felt that he wouldn't see her escaping. Aside from the off twig snapping under her hooves and leaves rustling against her body, she pretty quiet.

As he's speaking to a companion that had bonded out from between the trees she pauses long enough to smile. Yeah, he seemed to be doing well. Then again each time they'd met he'd been practically dead on the ground so to see him running around was like he was a completely different soul. Turning to spare him the sight of her she makes her way through the shrubby. Turning her eyes to the sky she finally spies a gap large enough for her to escape through...but of course it's not a smooth or elegant retreat. Tripping over a log that she hadn't noticed (so that's why her mother told her to look where she was going), she landed on her chest with a fairly loud "Ooof!" The silence erupted with things snapping, leaves rustling, birds laughing at her ass and the log creaking. Groaning as embarrassment flooded through her veins she struggled to her hooves and inspected the damage. It was minimal, she's grazed her chest and the inside of her front legs. Obviously she'd fallen. Like an idiot. "Anha'm going tat athdrivar." Of shame not from the wounds of course. Sighing she shook her head and then turned to see if she'd been discovered.

Underneath the starry skies, 
A single dreamer walks among the dull colours.
Before her there is nothing but dark and dull colours,
Behind her is there is the true colours of dreams.
Every colour imaginable vivid with life. 

anha'm going tat athdrivar. - I'm going to die.

I guess jealousy's the curse that the struggle inspires.

☀ Force and magic permitted. ☀
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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

sweet bitter words, unlike nothing I have heard:

With a snort and a toss of his budding crown, Duir bounds off again, his tail flitting upright as he bounds between the enveloping branches of the underbrush. I’m taking off after him, still laughing, when another sound stills my playful charge.

My fore-hooves hit the earth hard, all that forward motion abandoned to pivot me around to face where the “ooof!” had come from. The deer, eagerly leaping somewhere behind me, is less quick to notice, and he’s still running as I stride, confidently, towards the sound of the cursing. Part of me wonders if it’s Mordecai, trying to bother me again, as the noise seems to be that gibberish language she calls “Dothraki.”

I’d have asked her if she was mispronouncing “Dumbpeggy” - if I had thought she’d have left poor Duir’s blood as it was, rather than turning it to acid. Why does everyone go after my poor fawn, anyway? And they call me the rude one.

Where near death might have made some souls curl up and cry, mine had seemed to grow more bold with each passing day (though not so bold as to dare travel near the land of the Dumbpeggies). That boldness is evident in the height of my crown, the ever so slightly backward tilt of my ears, and the regal step with which I emerge from the trees. What is the age old adage? What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger?

"Aelin?" arrives as a much more friendly greeting than I’d been plotting on the approach. It’s hard to tell if it’s actually her or not, because her back is turned to me. All I see at first are the backs of her wings, and the soft russet ripple of her hair, but I’m pretty sure it is the same young desert dweller who’d saved me twice. A daughter of Gaucho, making her akin to playing with fire for the most part, but the danger made her that much more interesting. Why did she take so much concern for me, anyway? And why had she been, as far as I could tell, trying to avoid me? "Are you okay?"

With a wild crash my buck appears, having caught on at last that I’d not followed him on his caper. With his forest eyes wide and surprised, he backpedals in an attempt to stop as soon as he sees the female pegasus. I don’t seem hostile, which aids his decision to remain in sight, but he quickly dips behind me, peering curiously. We don’t usually stop to talk to the winged ones, and he’s reasonably wary of any new situation – particularly strangers.

"It’s been awhile," I continue with a smile, hoping my ease lends itself to the quivering, lightning marked buck behind me. By awhile, I mean since I was dying on the desert floor, while she plead with her sire for my life. They were blurry memories, dark ones, but I’d managed to remember a few things from when I’d been fading in and out of reality. "Have you saved anyone else in the interim?"

A friendly row of laughter follows, genuine. My humor, dark and probably not the most appropriate for the situation, alludes to every other time we’ve met. This time, at least, I’m not bleeding anywhere.

I don’t think.

I also don’t think that those near death moments are why she might not have wanted to talk to me. I don’t pause to wonder if, maybe, she’s afraid I’ll be angry with her, for something her family did.

I’m not.

I’m not even that mad at Gaucho, though I will admit, a new fire burns in me to someday defeat him with as much ease as he had me. It rages inside, seeks to devour any and everyone it can, so that I can’t be swatted aside like some diminutive nobody ever again. That fire still blazes, even as I look over the pretty princess, a smile of friendship marking my lips that carefully hides the flame glowing behind my eyes.

sing along, mockingbird; you don't affect me.

Image by TheArtlex@DA


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

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