the Rift


[PRIVATE] worst luck

Glasgow Posts: 127
Aurora Basin Apprentice atk: 3.5 | def: 10.0 | dam: 7.0
Mare :: Unicorn :: 14.3hh :: 11 years HP: 66.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Skylark
#1
I feel lucky, with the worst luck.
She had been busy, yet still been a recluse. The scarred mare often walked the Edge, doing her best to not encounter any other creature. Words were too difficult to formulate for her, as of late. She had been so exhausted – so tired of the same old thing. It was nice, in a way, when she stayed by Tilney’s tree. He was able to be enveloped in the embrace of a loved one, with their prodigy by their side throughout the night. But if the Glazier had to be honest, it hurt a bit more than the happiness she felt for them.

Glasgow wasn’t getting any younger, and in fact, she was growing bored. She didn’t have a special someone – hell, people usually didn’t stop to talk with her anyway. Was it her scars or her actions, she didn’t know. She just knew that whenever she turned up places, equines seemed to scatter. She supposed she should’ve been used to it by now, after all the years she had spent finding Helovia only to succumb to the same problems here at home rather than across the continent. So she changed her sleeping schedule to accommodate. She spent a majority of her night working with her crafting and working with the glass wall.

That was where she found herself. It was bright, early in the morning where the sun hadn’t quite crested over the horizon. She was tired, but working diligently. She had found a rather large maple leaf that had begun to fall with the chill of winter, dragged it over to her station, and began to carefully pick up the pieces of glass that littered their borders, placing them ever so carefully on the maple leaf and moving on until she had accomplished getting the glass away from that side. A soft sigh escaped her lips. It was far too much work for one person, but for two it might make quick work. Yet, Anzanie seemed to constantly be away and privately unwilling to work (as it appeared to the Glazier) and so she thought of someone who might.

There was that blood red Pegasus, marked much after the vultures she had seen in her travels that had peaked interest in the craft, and so she called upon him. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting, really. Would he come to her? Would he even know who she was? Or would she be forced to continue the work on her own?

"Talk."
then I met you—
when i felt messed up
Glasgow
image | coding


@Graasvoel

Graasvoel Posts: 97
World's Edge Artificier atk: 3.5 | def: 7.0 | dam: 8.0
Stallion :: Pegasus :: 17.0hh :: 6 HP: 64 | Buff: NOVICE
smitty
#2
THE VULTURE CIRCLES

Though he had professed an interest in crafting—for that was the only trade he had carried from his father—he had done very little in the ways of pursing this profession. Most of his pursing had been, naturally, of mares. His eyes closed slightly as he fondly remembered the day in the Grove with the grey beauty. She had been adventurous and a vision.

And his evenings had been spent wrapped around Orithia. Or, at least, they had until she had vanished. Though he had not slipped into the warmth of the blushed woman, having her alongside him all through the night was enough. Until she had left.

Now, though, the tawny, thick-coated vulture spent his nights alone. And cold. Though his wings and coat provided insulation, it was not the same as a woman’s warmth. He sighed, bright eyes of yellow and red looking around him. Rarely did he awake with the sun, usually spending them sleeping off exhaustion from the previous night’s escapades.

But not this morning. This morning he was awake and plodding his heavy self through the Edge. His great wings stretched once in the morning chill, enjoying the refreshing coolness through his feathers; the Tallsun heat had been unbearable. His head rose suddenly, gaze sharpening through the trees— was someone calling him?

A slow, earth-quaking jog carried his thick body through the trunks. He was careful to tightly tuck his wings to his reddish sides. The Dorobian plateaus were less forested than the Edge, though the pegasus stallion was slowly adjusting to quickly moving between them. “Glasgow?” His gruff voice, even gruffer with the morning’s disuse, sounded from his throat. He stopped to look at her, studying her closely for a moment. His eyes looked over her scars briefly, before he bent his head, “My vision, what makes you call on me?”

G R A A S V O E L
image credit || texture


@Glasgow

Please tag Graasvoel in all posts.



Glasgow Posts: 127
Aurora Basin Apprentice atk: 3.5 | def: 10.0 | dam: 7.0
Mare :: Unicorn :: 14.3hh :: 11 years HP: 66.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Skylark
#3
I feel lucky, with the worst luck.
Her call had not gone unnoticed. The Glazier continued to work, picking up little pieces here and there as she waited for the vulture to appear. She was pleasantly surprised at his approach, but happy to see the man nonetheless. A smile wove its way into the fabric of her scarred face as she heard her name called by a gruff voice. “Graasvoel, I’m glad you came.” She noted, her words dripping with honesty and a bit of surprise. She didn’t let his words falter her, as he called her his vision. Her pale ears just stood at attention toward the man as he asked what she needed. “You expressed interest in crafting if my memory serves me right? I hope I didn’t wake you, but I need some help working on collecting the glass shards.” Her glassy gaze sought out his own raptor’s gaze.

There’s plenty of foals around now, I just want to make sure theyre safe.” She added in near the end, remembering the beautiful pearl face of Maude as she bounded around. The last thing she wanted was to see blood taint her innocence just as Glasgow’s own had done to herself. “I grabbed a maple leaf, I’ve been stacking them on there and taking it with me as I go.” She motioned, lowering her head to the large leaf that was covered with a few glass shards. Then, as if she wasn’t going to wait for him to decide what he wanted to do, she began to continue. Picking up little pieces and placing them on the leaf, gingerly biting down onto the stem to drag the leaf along with her. Perhaps Gaal would be the one willing to stick around and make small talk – she wasn’t much of one as of late, not since she hadn’t seen Abaddon around.

"Talk."
then I met you—
when i felt messed up
Glasgow
image | coding


@Graasvoel it's kinda crappy i apologize :|

Graasvoel Posts: 97
World's Edge Artificier atk: 3.5 | def: 7.0 | dam: 8.0
Stallion :: Pegasus :: 17.0hh :: 6 HP: 64 | Buff: NOVICE
smitty
#4
THE VULTURE CIRCLES

The breadth of woman the man had experienced was large, to be certain. Though the largest of his time was spent with mares of freer natures and less naivety than the quiet, honest Glazier. There was a part of her that intrigued the vulture—how was it that she had gained such scars but maintained such candor?

And, the man was so entirely bored and lonely that he, in that moment, began to pursue and answer to that very question.

His bright, sharp gaze met her own glassy stare; the milky depths hiding more than her candid expressions did. “Yes I did, Glasgow,” his gruff voice answered her question, a grin playing at the corners of his lips, “Having a lovely director as lovely as yourself is an unexpected benefit.”
His flattery was playfully given, though his eyes remained watchful and curious on hers.

His yellow and red gaze finally left hers as she motioned towards a large maple leaf covered with glimmering glass shards. His brows raised slightly, “Could you not make a jar of sorts for them?” His massive skull tilted slightly, the question out of his mouth before the could stop it.

His ears laid back; if he was trying to ingratiate himself with the lead crafter, then he certainly should not be critiquing her methods. He stretched the base his wings, creating a small divot between the feathers and his withers/shoulders. Motioning towards the space with his muzzle, he looked back at Glasgow, “You are welcome to place some of the larger pieces here. I think they will be easier to move, this way.” He then, slwoly, dropped his head to shuffle through the grass for more glass shards.

“What made you become Glazier, Glasgow?” His gaze darted towards her as he asked, curiosity burning in his eyes once more.

G R A A S V O E L
image credit || texture

Please tag Graasvoel in all posts.




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