the Rift


[OPEN] midnight thoughts [seasonal summons]

Frost Fyre Posts: 198
Outcast atk: 5 | def: 9 | dam: 5.5
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15.3hh :: 6 Years HP: 64 | Buff: NOVICE
Altair :: Common Cerndyr :: Starpast prissy
#1
Frost Fyre
wonder, wonder what you might do
you can't simply hide our dream in the blue
Her lids flickered, opening and closing and opening and closing and opening. Emeralds slid around the now familiar cavern, glimpsing the entrance, faraway stars, cold walls, and then—the mirror. It's glassy, luminous surface seethed and swirled, the unicorn's imagination and sleepy mind giving the mirror a voice, a call. 'It beckons you,' she dazedly told herself.

The maiden rose from her resting place, shaking sleepy thoughts from her mind. Her cloven hooves stepped closer to the mirror, her awakened mind realizing it had never whispered to her, but she wished it had. She yearned to speak to the mirror, but found herself without words adequate for a God. How do you even start a conversation with time?

Her ears flicked backwards, whipping her head around to look for her rune encrusted companion, relief flooding through her veins as her eyes found the elk curiously peering back at her. His mind reached out to hers with questions she didn't have answers to. She bit her lip anxiously before issuing a silent command to her bonded: 'Deimos and Hotaru. Go.' Altair turned away reluctantly, slipping into the chilly night to seek faces he barely knew.

With her companion gone, loneliness gradually consumed the Haruspex. The cave felt a little darker without him there. She turned back to the mirror, waiting and contemplating it's glassy surface. The star swathed maiden tilted her tiara towards the ground, flicking her emeralds up tentatively to the mirror and swallowing a growing lump in her throat. "God of the Spark?" She whispered firmly, inquisitively, simultaneously hoping for nothing and everything.

--

@Mythical Request seasonal summons! @Deimos @Hotaru feel free to say altair led you guys to the cave <3

"speaking words."
.

image || table
Dawn is coming
open your eyes

Hotaru the Valkyrie Posts: 295
Outcast atk: 7 | def: 10.5 | dam: 3
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15.3hh :: 6 Years 3 Months HP: 67 | Buff: NOVICE
Alice :: Royal Hellhound :: Acid Brit
#2

The change that had overtaken her kingdom had not gone unnoticed, but it had slipped through her small, fragile fingers like sand. No matter how hard she clenched them into fists, it did nothing to stop the leak in the dam that would soon lead to a barren, empty reservoir. Still, she found herself desperately clawing for another chance, not sure why they were all so reluctant to do as she and Deimos bid. Why they did not seem to care, why they were so far from the family she once had proudly looked upon. There was only so much she could do, and it often led to frustration in the early dawn hours as she scoured her brain for the thousandth time for any other option that may have gone unnoticed. Alice could do little to comfort her, her mind archaic, primordial in ways her youth would never fully shed in the coming years. She didn't know why they weren't family, and could do little to ease Hotaru's worries. The Valkyrie still yearned for the presence of her once-mentor and predecessor, but Ophelia was as elusive as the morning mists disappearing beneath early-rising sunshine. Hotaru didn't even know what wisdom the Amaranthine could possibly share with her. 

So when the stag came for her and Alice, unfamiliar but undoubtedly beckoning, Hotaru fled with it willingly. Anything to give her purpose for one more day, anything at all. She was wearing herself to the bone trying to keep herself busy and useful. Trying and failing to come up with a way to save her crumbling ivory kingdom, because none of the denizens would help her in the fight for their unity. 

When she came across Frost Fyre staring deep into the shimmering, twisting depths of the mirror, Hotaru felt a wave of relief and gratitude sweep through her stoic heart. At least Frost Fyre was taking the mantle of her position seriously - perhaps there was progress at last. A chance, a sliver of a sign that not everyone was forsaken with their apathy. 

Hotaru came silently to the monochromatic woman's side, not wanting to interrupt whatever divine force may or may not have come over her. Alice slunk between her legs, having never faced a God and unsure how to proceed. Her deference was reserved for Hotaru, but if Hotaru respected the Gods...the pair stood in solidarity together at Frost Fyre's side, hoping for guidance and ready for change and criticism. 

OOC thingies here
Image Credit
[Image: 515265280ffff]

::Strong like the sea is stormy::

Please only tag starting posts, spars, and threads collecting dust!
Plot with me here!

Tiamat the Ocean's Light Posts: 360
Aurora Basin Lady atk: 8 | def: 10 | dam: 3
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15.2 :: 6 years HP: 60 | Buff: NOVICE
Nimue :: Common Orca Leviathan :: Boil Reli
#3
Look to love, you may dream—hope is home,
and the heart is free.
When the sun dips below the horizon and the cold darkness of night descends, it finds the blue mare resting at her brother’s banks, staring thoughtfully into the clear, unfreezing depths. Though the heaviness of her bones tells her that she should be well into her dreams by now, Tiamat’s mind is far too active to think of sleep. There is nothing in particular that dominates her thoughts. A collage of musings run through her mind—reflections of her beloved herd, questions regarding the recent creature who has risen from her father’s waters, a passing idea for a combination for a certain salve, among other things—all of which leave her awake.

She sighs in a slow, white stream of breath, lowering her dainty head to brush her muzzle against her companion’s smooth back. The little whale, unbothered by the contemplations that rouse her bonded, has long since slipped into a peaceful slumber. She rests in between Tiamat’s cloven hooves, nestled in the powdery snow like a puppy. The blue Mender can’t help but smile as she gazes down at the young Leviathan, her heart fluttering as she, once again, realizes how fortunate she is to have Nimue in her life.

She will never forget.

Humming blissfully to herself, Tiamat’s gaze is drawn from her companion by movement. Long lashes flutter against sapphire cheeks, her horned brow rising as she peers through the darkness, soon making out three figures against the mountain scape. The Mender recognizes the Lady and her white hound, but the dark Cerndyr is unfamiliar. Initially her heart leaps, telling her what her mind cannot. (He had left without saying goodbye, couldn’t he arrive without greeting her too?).

But the midnight stag of her dear friend is not this one, she knows this with the way her chest twists painfully, and yet she feels herself compelled to follow. “Come, my darling,” she nudges Nimue gently, guiding the bleary orca with an embrace that pulls her close.

Trailing after the trio, the oceanic pair is guided towards the Haruspex’s cave (and every step seems more painful than the last, the same hope that usually buoys her spirits only crushes them now, tightening like iron chains around her fragile heart). Even when Ashamin had been Haruspex, Tiamat had not attended his divine summons. It seems wrong to betray him now (or is it something else? Is she afraid of seeing the new Seer, perhaps, for fear of exposing the unwelcome animosity that her fledging, sheltered heart might be hiding?)

Embracing the sleepy orca for comfort, the ocean mare ascends the distance to the familiar rock cave, hesitating only once before she approaches the two other mares. “My Lady,” she bows her head respectfully to the rosy queen before moving her eyes to the other, forcing a pleasant smile onto her soft lips.

“Hello,” and she hates how she would rather see his face now, knowing that this woman has done nothing wrong. Tiamat will welcome her, befriend her, because she shouldn’t simply be a replacement. Everyone deserves better than that. “My name is Tiamat, I’m a healer for the Basin. I hope you don’t mind me intruding,” suddenly worried that she has over stepped her boundaries, the length of her tail curls sheepishly around her hindquarters, white eyes flickering momentarily to the hallowed mirror.


notes; Nimue reference
“Speech.”

@Frost Fyre @Hotaru | image credits
please tag Tia in all replies!
magic & force are permitted.

Deimos the Reaper Posts: 527
Deceased atk: 7.0 | def: 12 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.1 :: 7 HP: 72.5 | Buff: NUMB
Heather
#4

Deimos the Reaper
You can't take back the cards you've dealt on this 
long and lonely road to hell
the throne must be such a sad and lonely place

The world was quiet – and it should’ve made the desolate beast appreciative. He was one for desolation and starkness, the vast empty shells and vessels of hollowed, corrupt ruins. He was a cretin designed and left to his own devices, to swing an ax, a sword, a scythe, into those who crossed him, into those who threatened him, into those who held a kindled essence over his open flame. But the Reaper had been a King too long, far longer than a General, far longer than a wandering blade, to think of anything but frustration at the current stillness. Everything came in a rapid, haunting circle: fleeting inhabitants, fleeing loyalists, those he thought talented, defined by the mountains just as the rest of them, taken away by other thoughts, by other notions, by other dreams he found himself incapable of comprehending. Their realm had become a bare remnant of what it’d once been – as bleak and isolated as the top of the summits, as cold and chilling as his bones, as his blackened heart. Despite their recent attempts, there’d been nothing. No one to abide requests. No one to take up arms. No one to protect and shield. No one to wander in and cherish, nurture, what they say before them. Perhaps the rest of the empires had simply given up.
 
But he didn’t want to.
 
He followed the call of the mirror, of the newest Haruspex, of the flares of indignation festering between his veins and through his soul: barbaric and irreverent, emboldened and enraged. He didn’t understand what made others leave when all he craved was to stay, rooted, firm, resistant, solid, and unyielding. He didn’t know what others saw when they glanced into other lands (because all he wanted were the frozen glaciers and the endless caverns). Yet, he could see where they faltered, where they failed, where they needed guidance to restore the Basin to its portions of glory – so he heeded the summons, head lifted, iron chiseled, a Lord of the court no matter how heavy the crown weighed across his skull. Deimos nodded to those already assembled, the spotted Frost Fyre, the rosy Hotaru, the sea-girl Tiamat, and sidled along the entrance, attempting to blend more into shadow than light – and found himself actually wanting the answers of the Spark God (utterly bizarre, but perhaps desperation had eroded him even further, made him fall into a deity’s answers and damning proclamations). He built himself into a solid, stoic wall again, so that the earth didn’t feel his anguish, his vexation, or his exasperation – so that he could listen and interpret the word of immortals and soothsayers. 


Photo and Table by Time
Photo taken at Hero's Square in Budapest, Hungary


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