the Rift


[OPEN] Catch an Assassin by the Toe [Challenge Watch]

Thranduil the Laurelin Posts: 598
Outcast atk: 5.5 | def: 11 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.2 hh :: Eight HP: 77 | Buff: ENDURE
Haldir :: Common Cerndyr :: Dark Mist Hawk
#1
He hadn’t even been here a day, and already he was find this place an absolute delight. Not for the snow or the sea breeze. No none of those trifling sense of place could make his heart delight. Nah, this foul creature delighted for it seemed everyone was here, and nothing ever stood still. When all the rest of Helovia huddled in masses against the cold this place was practically alive.

Of course he wasn’t full up to his usual tricks just yet. The gold was ever vain and prideful but he was wise as well. He belonged at the top of his trade, and not under the direction of others. Never did their order saddle him well. Yet there would be time for that. He would play about at first, trifling in a few affairs. His skills were already proven and there was no need to stretch out his neck again.

It seemed though, not everyone was of that opinion.

A bellow rose above the mists and the gold, his stag off exploring on his own, pauses, and listens. A challenge? Sounded like fine entertainment for the afternoon. As he strolled closer he heard the screeches of the details come screaming through, and my were they ever juicy. As the gold came through the trees, hanging onto the border of them his Cheshire grin couldn’t be hidden. How much better of a welcoming party could you get than to see your superiors tearing each other apart and watch all their weaknesses and secrets fall from their pockets. His tasseled tail flicking and curling with satisfaction the golden settled down to watch, making note of each accusation, and each thrown punch.

What mighty fools he had to get in shape…All the jabbering, and pointless name calling. Honestly, these two were more like bickering old nans. (The gold was perhaps at times, guilty of that himself, but as always those so easily slipped from his mind at times like these). What fun lay ahead in holding this over their heads.  Let’s see, so far. 0 for style. 0 for sass. 10 each for egos. And throw in a 5 for tom fool bravery. Was this the best they could do?

They may not know him yet, a golden figure, crowned in silver and cloaked in a wolf, hanging around at the sidelines, but better all the same. He’d settle for that today. They’d regret not turning their attacks on him soon enough.


"Talk?"
OOC:: Challenge watching thread for Toulouse vs Raeden! Feel free to join!
we live like thieves
     kings among men

[Image: 5381546acbe33]
Feel free to use any force/magic on Thranduil, short of killing him.
Please tag in every post.
Ask Thranduil any question in the world, he'll be forced to answer on his profile. PM with your question.

Thranduil the Laurelin Posts: 598
Outcast atk: 5.5 | def: 11 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.2 hh :: Eight HP: 77 | Buff: ENDURE
Haldir :: Common Cerndyr :: Dark Mist Hawk
#2

Oh gods it just got worse. The painted pale one, Toulouse had she called him? Gods he talked too much. Say a quick snap and then move on. Even the pitch of battle could drown into boredom by a lengthy monologue. The lass, Raeden was it?, he had to give credit. She held her tongue and focused. Not easy when accusations fly, especially in their business. But she was woefully simple, as was he. Nothing in the first attacks gave any hint of flare or power. It was just bodies beating against one another in the mud, like dull drums. The gold almost thought of spicing it up himself….but then she did it for him.

Amid the screeches and splashes the pale mare vanishes. Instantly a brilliant smile rolls on the gold, and he steps forward. Despite himself his whisper slips through, “That’s more like it.” The Laurelin’s ears leaned forward and that gold in his eyes sparked and arched with excitement. Perhaps it was small, maybe a 2 on the points of style and 3 on technique, but it was a clever plan. And was at least better than what they had been doing.

Of course, it seemed not everyone was so thrilled with the introduction of magic. A child’s scowl rises above the pounding blood, and the gold quite literally rolls his eyes. What a foolish, simpleton that one was turning out to be. He expected to rule over a ring of spies with Thranduil in its company? God would he have his hands full if he thought a bit of cloaking magic was a cheat move. That was just a parlor trick in the Laruelin’s arsenal. He let’s his voice rise and carry, letting it play and not trying to hide the humor he found in all this. “Quit your whining, its a challenge, of course there's magic!” Not the greatest way to say hello to your two new bosses.  

His smile grew all the more as the fight continued on. Oh yes he was quite enjoying this. As Toulouse dared the hidden mare, the gold laughed out loud. Not because of the dare, but for his love of wanting to see that. The gold still could not be more pleased as punch. What a better first day at work than to see the building burning down and know that the arson charges wouldn’t even lead to you even though you had a few matches in your back pocket for later.



"Talk?"
OOC:: -responded to self- -no shame-
we live like thieves
     kings among men

[Image: 5381546acbe33]
Feel free to use any force/magic on Thranduil, short of killing him.
Please tag in every post.
Ask Thranduil any question in the world, he'll be forced to answer on his profile. PM with your question.

Tilney Posts: 288
World's Edge Moon Doctor atk: 4 | def: 9 | dam: 6
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.2hh :: VI HP: 65 | Buff: NOVICE
Peatree :: Lesser Fruit Bat :: None Neverrmind
#3
[Image: tilnenfanir_by_neverrmind-dalndcz.png]
"By the four" was the chestnuts groaning sigh as he took his place beside the golden man, green gaze watching as the serpent battled with the edge's pet goose. Surely Raeden was not that hard a fight. "How long have they been at it?" Tilney quizzed the other onlooker with curiosity, tossing his bottom lip for a moment before he inspected the supplies he had brought with him.
He wasn't keen on healing Raeden in particular, or that pale man either for that matter - they should both be made to think about what they've done and be left with the consequences for a few days before he wastes any of mother moons precious power upon them.

It was no secret that Tilney was not at all a friend of Raeden's, and the same could be said for Alune and nearly the Worlds Edge council in its entirety - she wasn't exactly popular. Perhaps it was time for a change? Sometimes it really did seem that a tantrum or a death was needed to change the ranks around here. The snake man, while he was quite... snakey, was not the right fit by any stretch of the imagination. There was something not quite right about him with his suspicious cleanliness and the fact he had only inter-herd relations and none in-the-actual-herd relations. Suspicious to say the least.

Verdant gaze switching briefly from the fight to the golden one who stood beside him, Tilney gave a nod and a smile twitched on his lip. "Do you gamble, sir?" was his query to the gentleman, one he hoped was like-minded. Perhaps they could take this entertainment up a notch.
"My bet's on the gelding" the flaxen physician uttered with a sly grin.






♥︎

Wander or Leave
turn in to winter lights
☀︎


Thranduil the Laurelin Posts: 598
Outcast atk: 5.5 | def: 11 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.2 hh :: Eight HP: 77 | Buff: ENDURE
Haldir :: Common Cerndyr :: Dark Mist Hawk
#4

A voice lifts beside him cutting off his laugh. The Laurelin, though not dropping his high spirits, remembers himself a bit more. Or at least remembers to hide it. His crowned head turns as another golden hued body moves forward to stand beside him. Brows muddle in given concentration as he recognizes the lantern holding figure who greeted him in the Threshold. Though he still did not have a name for the face, so he turns silently back to watch the fight. To the other onlookers question, a flippant “Not long…” is given. The gold, though highly entertained, was still watching for each note he could make about the two.

As the creature beside him began to rummage around, an earth eye side glances his direction. His tools and concerns give him away. A healer. Not a bad friend to make. He speaks up again, and a grin lights the golden’s face once more. “On occasion.” Then he looks from the mud slinging to his apparent companion. “But I must know a stallion’s name first before I enter a bet with ‘im.” It was said in a light humor, though some tone of expectation laid heavy upon it.  He waited to see if he would get his reply, but regardless of the answer, drawing a bet was too much fun.

“They’re evenly matched…” He looks back to the spar, catching up. “He is determined…but Raeden has more weapons …” And Toulouse would indeed make a lousy boss if that’s how he thought to win the world over. There were more ways than one to skin a cat, but the gold had obvious favorites and it seemed the two’s ideals of how to get things done were already very obviously different. But this last thought the gold kept to himself. It would be more fun for the world to find that out later.




"Talk?"
OOC:: @Tilney @Rexanna
we live like thieves
     kings among men

[Image: 5381546acbe33]
Feel free to use any force/magic on Thranduil, short of killing him.
Please tag in every post.
Ask Thranduil any question in the world, he'll be forced to answer on his profile. PM with your question.
Ascended Helovian

Mauja the Frozen Light Posts: 1,392
Outcast atk: 6.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 7.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.2 :: 14 HP: 79.5 | Buff: HUNTER
Irma :: Snowy Owl :: Terrorize & Diego :: Eurasian Eagle-Owl :: Rage Neo
#5
Art by Neverr ♥
but somewhere here in between the city walls of dyin' dreams
"Wow."

He wasn't sure if he had ever sounded more unimpressed. He wasn't even sure if he had ever felt more unimpressed—maybe that day when he won the Edge's crown from the hands of those who fled to the Falls, but seriously? Mauja wasn't, by any meaning of the word, selfless, or graceful, or any other thing one might associate with demure, well-spoken ladies and gentlemen singing the praise of others and hiding behind their proud-less facades when praised themselves. Mauja was raw and crude and haughty, but at least he usually kept it to himself.

Unless, of course, someone around him behaved in an absolutely deplorable fashion and with a marked lack of respect for the task at hand. At those times, he let it all out. Or at the times when beggars and whores bickered and contended for things they did not deserve; when they bleated out their egos and blood claims and thought they were worthy of something almost no one was worthy of.

He had been angry, then. This time, he was just baffled, watching what was happening from the sidelines, across from Thranduil and later, Tilney.

It was mind-blowing. It was confusing. It was absolutely, absolutely, absolutely fucking ridiculous. It was the most stupid things he had heard in a long time, and by his standards, most of the shit he heard was stupid. But seriously? So, pretty-and-elegant boy wanted Raeden's position. Right, whatever—people could want what they wanted and he guessed they could fight for it, but why not just leave it at that? Why go and make an absolute fool of yourself?

Then again, not everyone was as sensitive to the regard of others as Mauja were.

"You tarry, flirt and meddle your way through your role as specter!" Wasn't that what they were supposed to do? Tarry the right things, flirt with the right people, and meddle? "It is an insult to the work of the Sleuths and the King and Queen you serve." "Please," he growled, too low for any to hear. "You don't get to decide that shit. Did you even fucking bother to ask them or are you just pulling the shit out of your ass and listening to it squeak?" As a result of angry muttering, he missed the next sentence, but he was sure it was pompous, grandiose, and absolutely ridiculous too.

It went on, though. “Neither of us are fighters, let alone warriors Darling! Answer this challenge yourself or I shall accept your forfeit and you will be labelled a coward!” By who? By him? Who gave a rat's ass about what some stuck-up newcomer thought about anyone?

Well, okay, as fucking Emissary, and as someone who genuinely cared about the herd's well-being, he had to care, and really, it was rather shameful to be so riled up when he always put so much stake at not trusting first impressions, seeing beneath the surface, hearing the heart's desires and not just the shit their mouths spewed out.. but hey ho, emotions are emotions, and at that moment, Mauja didn't want to be Emissary or nice or any of those things.

He just wanted to pull the ice from the ground and impale some horses on it and cackle manically and savor the few, blessed seconds of a satisfaction so deep his vision darkened just from imagining it.

Then Raeden marched onto the scene, and to Mauja's disappointment, she allowed herself to be baited into talking back. He had hoped, apparently in vain, that there was someone around here who knew their own worth well enough to not have to a, defend themselves from groundless, or incorrect, accusations or b, belittle their opponent. It was just disgusting. Absolutely, completely, utterly, disgusting, and Mauja stared at them in a way that said that he wasn't really about to recommend to Tembovu and Alysanne that they keep either of these idiots on the job.

"You say that I have been absent, well where have you been?" Good fucking question. He knew it was as annoying as relentless, single-minded, useless gnats to have others assume stuff about their person—Mauja had suffered more than his fair share of that. So far, so good, as Raeden was only guilty of asshatery on one point, but to yet another round of disappointment, she soon pleaded guilty to his second charge as well. "Oh Darling you would never make it as a Specter, you call too much attention to yourself." It was ..mild, compared to Toulouse's accusations, but it still made him angry that the woman didn't just let her ears pin in a clear face of "shut the fuck up" and then went to stab the bastard without a word. After his tirade, he didn't really deserve a response.

“Love, You didn’t even attend the sneak meeting,” the handsome stranger replied, and Mauja rolled his eyes. Was he sure of that? Raeden had ways of.. not quite being seen. He wouldn't put it past her to attend a meeting unnoticed. “In less than two seasons I have disrupted patrols from other herds, infiltrated the Dragons Throat to retrieve important information about their shocking excuse of an empire, conducted patrols of my own with fellow sleuths - that’s significantly more than you have done in a whole year is it not?” Wait, wait—"disrupted patrols" was a horribly obvious word to use, it sounded like he had dive-bombed them (except, he didn't have wings, oops) and shat on their heads and said HA HA HAHA you don't get to come close to the Edge!!!

Whatever. Infiltrated the Throat and retrieved information? Not that Mauja had attended any kind of actual meeting with his two rulers, but this little tidbit of infiltration had never come to his attention. So, maybe he had gone and done something useful but two very important questions remained: a, had he simply gone on a whim or been ordered? and b, why the fuck hadn't Mauja been told?

Someone had obviously not done their job properly and he rolled his eyes. Then another insult at Raeden's capacity as a Specter (which, frankly, Mauja wasn't in any place to assess as he knew jack shit about it) but he definitely got another minus for failing to mention the Queen. “Not another word. I so despise the sound of your voice and talking won't do you a single favor.” "It's not doing you any favors either," he muttered, shaking his head. It wasn't even an innovative insult. It was generic and boring and screamed of 'I-ran-out-of-useful-opinions-to-have-about-your-person' (which, to be fair, happened like three years ago if anyone asked Mauja, as nothing he had said about Raeden had been interesting).

And as they launched into battle, he kept talking, taunting her; is that the best you can do?

I'm not impressed, he thought firmly to himself, staring at them. Then Raeden disappeared, just like that, and he had to admit, that he was slightly impressed—by her, and only her.

"Slightly" being the key word.

“You cheat! I should have expected this much from you, witch!”

"Wow," he said again. "Really? Re-fucking-illy?" Cheat? Witch? How had he expected to get anything done if he disliked this show of excellent, sneak-style magic? Or, maybe—maybe he was the only one allowed to cheat.

Not that he did. He just yelled profanities about anal penetration before lunging and Mauja laughed out loud, a dry, bitter laugh, and shook his head.

Was this the best the Edge had to offer?
angels, they fell first, but I'm still here

Lyanna the Windswept Posts: 313
World's Edge Queen atk: 7 | def: 11 | dam: 4.0
Mare :: Pegasus :: 15.2 :: 5 years HP: 64 | Buff: NOVICE
Kyra
#6
so i listen to the    wind for an answer
She hasn’t been out and about in the Edge much. Frostfall still pained her, reminded her just a bit too much of her flight from Morham, of the hurried whispered as a few loyal friends ushered her and her sister through the woods as they ran for their lives. Reminded her of the stories of how her brother had died, throat slit while he slept. He’d deserved to live far longer than he had, but if he could not have been granted a long life, then at least an honorable death. But the rebels feared her brother and his fire, and they had cut him down when he’d be unable to defend himself.

So she’d kept a bit to herself, coming out to do her job, to make sure the herd was healthy, but generally staying away from it all. Her mood was slightly sour in a way it wasn’t normally, and she could only assume it must be memory that left her normally cheerful mood dampened. But she couldn’t ignore the bellow of a challenge as it rings through the trees, the commotion that disturbs an otherwise peaceful day.

She goes, largely because it’s her job to heal anyone that needs it. And this seems like one of those times when it’s best that perhaps she just lingers around, waiting to see what damage is done than expect someone to come find her. As she makes her way through the trees, she sees a small crowd. Tilney’s words reach her, the words gambling and bet and gelding catching her attention. Since when are herdmates creatures to be gambled on?

Since when are you so crabby, Lyanna? And the voice that scolds her in her own head is her brother’s, not hers. She sighs softly, entirely uncertain just when that happened, hoping it will disappear with the end of Frostfall. Particularly because so much of her ire seemed directed at Tilney, who was her friend and perfectly nice.

What is wrong with me?

“The gelding is Toulouse,” she says in a friendly manner, because it’s not like she blames Tilney for not knowing his name. And right now, as she hears what they are yelling back and forth at each other (particularly Toulouse), she’s not sure she entirely wants to know his name. It is childish and petty and a waste of energy she thinks, again in Corbin’s voice. Maybe she’s just going crazy, with her brother’s voice in her head all the time. Maybe she just misses him, and this is how she copes. Maybe it’s both.

“I’m Lyanna,” she offers to the stallion that she doesn’t know. Her eyes drift to the battle scene, to the blood that she can see clearly on Toulouse’s face, to the cuts and bruises. Yup. She’d be staying right here to watch the show, though Tilney at least was also around. Hopefully it wouldn’t take both of them to deal with the wounds, but she’s not sure Tilney’s here to heal.

A familiar white form catches her attention. She finally draws her attention away from the battle long enough to find him – Mauja. A smile lights on her face, glad to see him back. They are not close. In truth, they hardly know each other at all. But she does know he was missing, and she knows he is important to Alysanne and Tembovu, and that is enough for her. “Mauja,” she says softly, just loud enough to hopefully catch his attention, and then nothing more but a nod of her head. She doesn’t have anything to add to this conversation really. She doesn’t need to comment on the imagery of a horn up anyone anus, but she figured if that happened she’d really be needed. So she stays put, waiting to see

lyanna

art by yewrezz

Please tag in all posts
Magic use/power playing is okay, but check before serious injury/death
Image by Kiki

Gawen Posts: 26
Outcast
Colt :: Hybrid :: 16.3hh :: 6 Months
Atlas :: Royal Nine-tailed Kitsune :: None Brit
#7
Gawen
When the fire's at my feet again, and the vultures all start circling
They're whispering you're out of time
but still I rise

While everyone stands around complacently, Gawen's world is falling apart.

He comes racing up the hill at a speed that really isn't recommended for a colt as clumsy as he, panic sweating down his flanks and neck, the white of his eyes converging upon baby blues. Why is everyone just watching? What is happening? Why did the other figure even want to fight his mom? Why was nobody stopping them?!

The frozen earth refuses to budge beneath his barreling limbs, and he can feel the pain of his own ligaments protesting as he slides to a painful stop near the crowd. They're all so calm, so uninterested, so uncaring and his heart feels like it's shattering and set aflame all at once. Gawen has never even witnessed an unhappy baring of teeth or a nip to the haunches, much less a full-fledged battle. And the first he's ever subjected to is his own mother's challenge.

The tears didn't bud the entire flight up the slope where the rest of them wait, but they come now like a vicious torrent of emotion. Blurring his vision as he casts his judgmental, childish gaze upon them, head swinging to face them all. His limbs and wings tremble like a frightened bird, and Gawen knows he is not fearsome or brave. He is not cherished or respected, well known or appreciated. He's not an adult. But his heart is what makes him brave, and it is pounding so fast and hard against his ribs that he fears it will warp his physical body beyond recognition in the end. Gawen's voice swells into the shrieking tremulous thing of a fearful child and it spills out across his tongue as easily as his tears sweep down his cheeks.

"What are you DOING?!" He shouts it in their faces, because he's too afraid to go down and face the cruel monster attacking his mother. You're nothing but a coward Gawen. He knows that, he tucks that slow kill piece of knowledge behind his heart and patches it up every night, and he's the one who has to live with it. "Why are you just watching?! They're hurting each other! This isn't funny! Stop it!" And the way his voice warbles on the last words implies he thinks that maybe, maybe, this is all still just a game. That he's the butt of a joke, as always, and it's just waiting to reveal itself. Just a prank, Gawen, don't worry! But nobody is saying it and his mother is still down there bleeding.

He frantically looks between Lyanna and Tilney, his mentors, his idols and paragons of healing and gentleness. "I-I thought we were supposed to help? Why are we letting them do it? Mama's not a warrior why are they fighting? What does fighting have to do with being sneaky? Why does he want to hurt her?" Finally his voice chokes up beyond recognition and he just sits and cries, because he doesn't understand. It doesn't make any sense, and again Gawen's left feeling that the adults don't know a damn thing about what they're doing. A childish entitlement, but one that fractures his little golden heart like an earthquake opening up a chasm that won't heal. Reality and adulthood taste like ash and death on his tongue, and the only cleansing rain from the fairy tales are his own salted tears.

Wounded blues glance across the two faces he actually knows, astounded by this new apathy and cruelty he sees in them, childhood shattering in little pieces before his eyes as he waits for them to do something. Anything. Why couldn't they see that this was mean, and cruel, and senseless? What did physical battle achieve?



Oops have an emotional Gawen -shrugs-


Image Credits

Tilney Posts: 288
World's Edge Moon Doctor atk: 4 | def: 9 | dam: 6
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.2hh :: VI HP: 65 | Buff: NOVICE
Peatree :: Lesser Fruit Bat :: None Neverrmind
#8
[Image: tilnenfanir_by_neverrmind-dalndcz.png]
The gentleman he spoke with was not so easily recognised; he was one from the threshold, one of many Tilney had met there. It was when the stag asked of his name that the face and voice came to mind and he could recall their eerie meeting in the east once more.
"Tilney. A Doctor. And your name?" was the gents earnest reply peering curiously at the man who owned a brother-like physique. They matched quite a lot in colour and general appearance, perhaps they even had a similar taste in wardrobe. A keen smile was not lost from Tilneys own maw when the golden one made a wager of his own, instead choosing to bet on the current specter rather than her opposer. "What are we offering to the winner of this treacherous gamble, friend?" was the stags next question - it was hardly a good wager without something at stake.

The presence of a particular boquet of spots was not to be missed; his attendance simply oozed frustration and Tilney found his eyesore coat hard to ignore. Are you alright, Mauja? or how's life out of the glacier? Tilney might coo across to the emmissary, the one who could be friend or foe but would never really know. The words only audible to himself caused a smirk and a smile to frame Tilneys face, and he found himself eyeing the man with a look of glee. There was something sort of wonderful about seeing that old man swear and grump about to himself; it was a differnet story when the words were louder and directed solely at you.
Lyanna was the next to appear and she recieved Tilneys gleeful smile and nod; perhaps much too happy for the occasion. He was glad she had arrived - that meant he wouldn't need to heal Raeden... someone he quite despised.

What are you DOING?!

The squawks came to Tilneys ears like bells, causing him to jolt and spink his nares around to find a wrecking Gawen. Oh no. By the gods, what were they to do with him? Tell him to man up and watch? It was a part of herd life after all. Or just direct him away to sit quietly to await the verdict.
As one of the herds doctors, a chief of wellbeing (and also one of Gawens friends) Tilney stepped forth immediately and closed in on the melting colt. "Oh, Gawen" were the physicians words, a minor distraction while he figured out what on earth he would do. With a look to Lyanna, then Mauja, and finally the gilded one, Tilney gave a gruff sigh and shook his poll. Arah; that was the only solution he could think of at present. She knew how to soothe Maude when she had the worst fevers, and calm her during the worst storms.
Exposure to fighting could wait until another day when it wasn't his mother on the chopping block.
"Your mother will be fine, she's very tough and I bet she's going to show him what she's made of!" Tilney finally told him "How about you come with me and we'll go find a friend of mine.."





♥︎

Wander or Leave
turn in to winter lights
☀︎


Rexanna Posts: 499
World's Edge Mare atk: 4.5 | def: 8.0 | dam: 5.5
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15hh :: 7 years HP: 61.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Marembo :: Marbled Polecat :: None Skylark
#9
are you who i dreamed?
or just a memory?
The mare was late to the gathering, though it didn’t stop her. The various familiar voices she heard ringing through the forest was enough to get her into motion. However, there was one in particular that seemed to drift her ever closer. It wasn’t her friend, the tree-marked healer. It wasn’t the spotted man she met when she was trying to recruit her mate. No, it was simply the man she had shared intimate knowledge with that one stormy day in a cave. A secret she had kept quiet, buried down beneath many layers, never to surface as far as she would allow.

And when she broke into the clearing, she spotted Tilney and Mauja, and a few others she hadn’t recognized including a child. She spotted Raeden and an unknown man in the distance sparring, and sensed the grievance the child spoke of as he cried. Perhaps she should have been more worried about the poor thing, but the only thing on her mind was the Laurelin and getting to speak with him after he had fulfilled his promise of bringing her son to her.

She moved swiftly and carefully, as much as a pregnant mare could. She still didn’t look very pregnant, though she’d be sure to avoid any stray magic from the challenge before her if they were to head her way. The ex-thief moved quietly to an empty space beside Thranduil, turning her head to him and offering him a gentle smile, careful to not make it seem as though they were more than mere acquaintances – at least if anyone were watching. The last thing she needed was word spreading; though it seemed Tembovu had quite the mouth himself on the matter as she thought about what Nyx had said to her.

Rexanna offered her muzzle in a simple greeting to the gilded man before her gaze distanced to the battle. “What’s it all about?” She mused quietly, ears perked to the challenge in curiosity of what they wanted to get out of it. She didn’t know the position of Raeden, nor the unknown man fighting her – and so she was at a loss.

"Talk."
rexanna
image credits


Rex sneaks in and stands next to @Thranduil <3
[Image: lovelyskylark.gif?8]
Permission given for moderate power play.
Feel free to use magic/force on Rexanna, without killing her.
Please tag in every post!
Ascended Helovian

Mauja the Frozen Light Posts: 1,392
Outcast atk: 6.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 7.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.2 :: 14 HP: 79.5 | Buff: HUNTER
Irma :: Snowy Owl :: Terrorize & Diego :: Eurasian Eagle-Owl :: Rage Neo
#10
Art by Neverr ♥
but somewhere here in between the city walls of dyin' dreams
Somewhere deep within, the fury started to smolder—like wind sparking up the blue coals, tongues of flame licking the white-burnt ruin and seeking life. Purchase. Anything to burn in the furnace of his wrath.

Was this the world he wanted to live in? To defend, undying, until the ages came at long last to their end..? These people—these selfish, arrogant people—were they worth this torment?

You chose this he reminded himself, watching the bodies twist and turn in violence. And if you break that fucker into a million pieces, you'll be just as bad as they are. His straying eyes found Lyanna, who offered him a nod; he returned it, distant and thoughtful. The emotions snaking beneath his skin and falling from his lips like poisoned words ceased, and he grew still. Focused.

A child burst onto the scene. Crying. Screaming. Questioning why they let this happen—and Mauja questioned it too, as he watched the battle. Was ego worth the blood? Was ego worth the tears? Was ego worth it, to look like fools in the eyes of the future?

His jaws pressed together. He told himself it wasn't the crying child, told himself it was just common sense firing up his urge to end this show of stupidity, but he couldn't fool himself, not entirely; it always shamed him when others saw clearer, and when others had to make him act. Shouldn't he have done something about this long ago? What kind of sacred rule allowed them to fight like spoiled brats over everything?

Helovia was lawless and violent and he hated it.

One man was not enough to stop the tide.

The gelding was laughing, giggling, finding traction in the mud and hounding Raeden towards the edge. The fucking edge. Over a rank.

The only reason Mauja would ever step within five feet of the bastard was to separate his cowardly heart from his arteries.

His stillness froze into a pose of cold fury, the anger a reek rolling off him in waves. "THIS IS A RANK CHALLENGE!" he screamed at them, his weapons like fangs bared in waiting, little nubs of ice studding the ground around him as his wrath threatened to break him and, by extension, break the gelding.

He'd spear the fucker if he didn't stop hounding Raeden towards the her doom.
angels, they fell first, but I'm still here

Lyanna the Windswept Posts: 313
World's Edge Queen atk: 7 | def: 11 | dam: 4.0
Mare :: Pegasus :: 15.2 :: 5 years HP: 64 | Buff: NOVICE
Kyra
#11
so i listen to the    wind for an answer
Her world does not crumble like Gawen’s, but her heart does. His eyes are wide and wild and he moves so much faster than he should and before she’s even thinking, she’s turning to meet him and leave everyone else behind, but suddenly he’s already there. The tears on his face make her want to wrap him in a hug, make her desperate to just make it all okay. But she cannot make it okay.

We all have to learn, Lyanna. And like aways, it is her brother’s voice of reason that finds her. Calms her. Though somewhere in the back of her mind she still wonders if she’s going crazy. But for now, her attention is focused on Gawen.  

Tilney sweeps in with pretty words, offering to take Gawen away. Lyanna nods at him, encouraging, because he does need to leave. He needs to learn, but he doesn’t need to watch. “Gawen,” she says softly, dropping her head down some to be level with the boy, though he’s been growing. But the pain is lost against her torn heart. One more hole to live with. One more hole she’d never patch.

“It’s a challenge. We aren’t allowed to stop it. But I will be right here to help heal them, and to make sure they are okay.” She can’t bring herself to promise that they’ll be okay. They will be. It’s only a challenge. But what if something else happens? How can she make such a promise that she cannot keep. The only promise she can keep is to stay here, to be here when it ends and to heal Raeden first. Which only seems fair, because she’s a little annoyed with Toulouse for making such a circus of this whole thing.

“Why don’t you go with Tilney? I promise I’ll be here to help the whole time, however I can.” I just can’t do the one thing you want me to do, she thinks to herself, her own voice scolding her. After a moment, she pulls her head back up, looking back at Tilney, grateful that he’ll take Gawen. Though of course, only one minute ago he was betting against Raeden, but Gawen doesn’t need to know Tilney was betting at all.

Mauja screams at them – the fighters. His anger is justified. This is what the fight has done. Sent a child to tears. Brought a collection of the herd to watch because they’ve created that much of a scene. Likely, it’s rent holes between a few horses that will not be patched so easily. But she does not think of that. Instead, she keeps her eyes flicking back and forth, from battle to Gawen, making sure he’s okay. Making sure he goes.

lyanna

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Thranduil the Laurelin Posts: 598
Outcast atk: 5.5 | def: 11 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.2 hh :: Eight HP: 77 | Buff: ENDURE
Haldir :: Common Cerndyr :: Dark Mist Hawk
#12

“Thranduil” The Laurelin grants, letting his head nod slightly as he does so. His occupation and title did not follow. Once creatures knew him long enough they usually learned it themselves, and he quite liked that method for the moment. To the gamble though he grins. A prize eh? “The hard earned spark of another’s fire?” It was harmless bet. The gold was not in the business usually of betting his objects. Especially not on something like this. Yet he hated building fires. So the spark for another’s to start his, well, he’d still be quite pleased to have that (and he’d find any excuse not to pay up himself).

Others filtered in and then a screaming banshee of a child burst on the rather civil gathering. Gold harks flatten against his skull and narrow earth eyes turn, not in accusation but bewilderment. He had just spent many a day with what must be the complete opposite of this small creature. As the child wailed against the world the gold could only snort. His mind far too tainted with darkness from his journey to bring forth any light or understanding to what was happening. If anything it would have been a cruel sentence, and even the gold could not deliver such verdicts to the babe in tears. Another day, perhaps, another mood.

It did leave him companionless as he turned back to the fight, well, only for a second. Noise of crunching snow grows close, and the crowned head leaves what was turning rather dramatic spar, to see cream and gold. Instantly her smile is returned to her. Rexanna. The gold had never had what could be called a close friend. Certainly not this close. So it must be forgiven that even he could not classify exactly what she was to him. She more than a friend, but was not equal yet to Hotaru. Harks twitch back to the shouts from the challenge, but he keeps his eyes on her. Letting his muzzle meet her half way, and their breath mingle.

He also hadn’t missed the narrow glares of the Elephant King that evening. So he does not linger long, drawing himself back and letting his attention return to the fight. He would antagonize that wound another day perhaps (he still could not tell from her winter fluff her pregnancy). Still, he was in truth glad to have her. He still, ever since the caves, could not say why, but it the ease came just the same.

“A challenge for Spec-“ His voice drops as the fighting resumed…and changed. Crowned head rises slightly, and his body shivers into rigidness. The maniacal laughter rising from the now muddied field revealed the pale paint straining to shove Raeden…off the cliff. It was insane. It was beyond the line. It was looking like a decisive blow. “Damn.” Was all that left his lips, and he slips from the crowd into the trees. “Stay here.” Was the only goodbye Rexanna got.

It was a field of slippery mud. A maniacal opponent. A death promising drop. There was no time to waste. As soon as he could be sure of privacy, he begged the magic forth. Nerves began to light a fire, each one searing as it morphed. This wasn’t his usual snatching, his one an identity of his own personal collection. Yet it came at a price. Pain caused his eyes to snatch shut of the world. It had been far too long since he had tested himself against it, and his usual tolerance of his high costs were low. Yet even as it worked onward down his body, he stumbles through the woods.

Only seconds later, a bay Pegasus, with highlights of blue, steps through the trees, just by the cliff at a canter. He waits for nothing, says nothing, but opens his wings, and slips onto the drafts from the ocean below. His body tilts, wavers, as if uncertain, but really it’s a lack of practice. Really he should be better at this by now. Yet still, even his stomach still dropped at the height. He’d jumped it once before. But there was no time to smile at that. Tilting best he can, and riding what gusts he can, having to flap his rather gamely wings to keep steady on it, he rounds to see the fight. Now should this Toulouse look to clear the playing field, the gold ensure one queen pawn remained.

He was not intending to make a habit of being a rescuer. But he did quite enjoy ruining the happy day of another.



"Talk?"
OOC:: @Raeden Thran is now in a bay pegasus form flying just beside the cliff. He swears not for her, but to ruin Toulouse's day. ;D

Also side note for reality, though I doubt it'll come to it. But he can only slow her fall, he can't stop it. 
we live like thieves
     kings among men


@Tilney @Rexanna for mentions

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Kiuaji Posts: 40
Absent Abyss atk: 5.5 | def: 9.0 | dam: 4.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.2 :: 9 HP: 61.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Matanye :: African Crowned Eagle :: None Nova
#13



Never a dull day in the Edge, the Sleuth lingered in the treeline of the gathering. Drawn by the shouting and maniacal laughter which had rang out across the cliffs.The appaloosa stallion's shrill and obvious statement was just an irritating side note. It was a rank challenge yes, so what if a man had to push another off a cliff to get what he wanted? Wasn't that the system here? Wasn't that really just the baseline for all creatures. They'd writhe and thrash their way to the top like slime coated serpents, with no thought given to who or what they sank their fangs into and strangulated in the process. Thieves and vagabonds danced their shadow games while warriors fought over bags and other useless trinkets under the pretense of honor and that age old term 'it's just what we do.' If someone got poisoned, or god forbid, punted off of a cliff — who cared. It was just good business. He's sure most of the inhabitants knew that song and dance, that terrible decadent way of life where standing on another was just another means to an end, another life to snuff out. Voluntarily or not.

He didn't venture further than he needed to, Matanye did the rest of the work for him, her stark plumage and fearsome form drifted and swooped upon the ocean gusts and vents which raged around the white cliffs. Her mental commentary and vivid imagery painted him a picture crisp enough for a fresco.

Vaguely he wondered where his dear friend was in all of this, surely Tembovu should be present to witness his spectre in what appeared to be her final moments. If not, at least be present for her to have a near death experience, and promptly spend the rest of her life chewing on apples and muttering incoherant babble like the rest of them did after an attempt was made on their life. Kiuaji had never had the problem, after all his life before all the mundane and sometimes frankly primitive business which had become his future, had been filled with daring and dangerous missions. These Helovian's, some appeared to be forged in iron, others no better than milk sacks, some he assumed postured in the face of their own weakness.

A breath is exhaled, and the sleuth shifted at his makeshift perch in the snow and mist. He'd like to believe he had other better things to do than watch a challenge through the eyes of his companion, but he really didn't.



 "talk talk talk"




Some hearts are a desert you can die wandering in


Credits: Image by Littlewillow-Art @ DA
[Image: kiuajipixel_by_abbie1234_d9nzm2x_by_drea...9nzm7u.png]

"let me shatter your frame of mind, my dear"

force & magic permitted on Kiuaji at all times
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Arah Posts: 343
Outcast atk: 7 | def: 10.5 | dam: 3
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15hh :: 5 HP: 65 | Buff: NOVICE
Wynter :: Royal Griffin :: Draining Clutch Frostie
#14


Holding me closer, until our eyes meet. You won't ever be alone, wait for me to come home.

The sounds of the fight drew her towards the gathered crowd, golden orbs seeking a familiar face and finding many. Yet it was the ashen face beside Tilney that drew her gaze. Her lover was attempting to usher a young colt away from the sight of the fight, a voice rose from the battle field. Was this Raeden child? She was encoring him to head off with Tilney, obviously she did not want the youngster witnessing this fight. It was funny how times had changed her, once she would have offered only a few comforting words to the child. Now she trotted over and smiled warmly down at the quivering child. As she drew closer she recognised him from her storytelling gathering, the youngster had kept to the back until Tilney had welcomed him into the group. Gawen...that was his name. "There now, it's going to be alright." Attempting to maintain a soothing, calm tone in order to settle the child. She owed Raeden as much and would repay some of her kindness by looking after her son while she could not. Bending low so that she could peer into the colt's blue eyes she spoke so him as she would settling Maude during a storm. "I know you are worried but your mother will be alright." Gesturing toward Tilney with her muzzle, the doe allowed a small smile to brighten her face. "After all, we have the best doctor right here!" Moving so that her body blocked the fight from his view, she thought it would be best to move him away from the area.

"I've got an idea!" She said with a wide grin. With a gesture towards Tilney she began, "How about we leave Tilney here to look after you mum but we'll go find Maude!" She wasn't quite sure where her daughter had wondered off to, yet if Arah called she was pretty sure that her daughter would come running. Nudging the boy gently, trying to encourage him away she then offered the next best thing. "Once we find Maude I could tell you both another story,." The silver doe offered with a wide smile, trying to think of a story that would warm him up to the idea of leaving his mother behind mid-fight. Through if he was half as stubborn as Maude then he wouldn't be going anywhere. "You enjoyed my tale about the Earth Turtle and the Giving tree, right?" She asked him, then she decided on a story that he might like in a situation like this. "I could tell you about the bond shared between companions or how I came to find Wynter." The griffin was off hunting at the moment but if Arah called she might cut the hunting short and attend the story.

Again in an attempt to encourage the boy to come along with her, she smiled and nodded quickly. "Your mother will be fine." She wasn't lying when she said this, in fact Raeden was holding her own against Toulouse fairly well. "Tilney will look after her, I promise." Would it be enough to convince the child to come with her? She was not sure but she had to try for Gawen and Raeden's sakes.


Art by Hearttosoul @ DA


@Tilney and @Gawen
And I ain't afraid to die, I’m afraid of going to hell.

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Iona Posts: 100
World's Edge Specter atk: 7.5 | def: 11 | dam: 3.5
Mare :: Pegasus :: 16hh :: 11 (birdsong) HP: 69 | Buff: NOVICE
Iver :: Osprey :: None Kiki
#15

- I O N A -

The commotion was enough to draw almost anyone in the vicinity to the cliffs.  It certainly drew Iona’s attention.  The painted mare donned her chameleon rank magic and made her way quietly through the trees, making her way quickly towards the sounds of a conflict.  She was surprised to find that the voices that she heard among the others and the crashing waves were familiar.  It made her hasten her step.  And when she finally cleared the trees and could see the makeshift battleground that had been laid out before the cliffs, she froze.  Raeden.  Toulouse.  Shouting.  Fighting.  Dumbstruck and paralyzed the specter watched as both insults and attacked were hurled back and forth.  

Others made their way to the sidelines - most familiar faces - and Iona finally made the decision to join the observers once she was able to calm the absolute hurricane that had erupted in her mind.  The specter, shedding the veil of invisibility that concealed her, stepped from the trees into the clearing watching as one from her rank tried to force her co-lead off the edge.  The literal edge

”What is the meaning of this.” Her voice was cold. Hard. Expressionless. There was no humor in her eyes today.  No mischief.  Disbelief, sure.  Frustration to be sure. And for the first time in a long time, Iona was truly angry.  

Challenging for a rank was one thing.  But watching one of her rank threatening to kill another was something else entirely.  And for what? For a title? Cold fire burned in her stomach as she watched in utter disbelief what was slowly unfolding before her.  Is this truly how one thought they gained favor? By standing atop another? Is this what they have become.  Dark nostrils flared in disgust.  

Her hardened gaze flicked to the side. She was pleased to see two healers - at least that the physical repercussions of this foolishness wouldn’t linger.  Mauja was there too looking about as happy as she felt.  Others too, of course, but Iona had tunnel vision at this point.  She was upset to see the child had witnessed such a thing as well, especially when it was so unnecessary. Iona’s ears flattened against her skull as she watched with obvious discontent but, to be perfectly honest, she couldn’t think of a single thing to say.  She wanted an explanation. 

And she wanted it now. 


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Ru Posts: 130
World's Edge Captain atk: 7.0 | def: 9.5 | dam: 4.0
Mare :: Pegasus :: 16.1h :: 3 [Tallsun] HP: 60.5 | Buff: Novice
Mar
#16

There had to be more to challenges than raw, animal instinct. More than the basest of needs to out power, out maneuver, subdue to the point of – what? Uselessness? How could the collective function, recover and learn from trauma like that? Perhaps the herd was not as cohesive as Ru had first thought it to be. Not as groomed to perfection, from dwindling warrior ranks to the bickering, bloody notes of the two opponents below her.

For the most part she could hardly hear them, ignored their voices while they fought. She instead analyzed their bodies for their styles, their tricks, strengths and deficits.

It was upon her arrival – as she kept a close eye on the pair – that Ru made a wide circle before settling down on the snow covered outskirts. Numb to the politics that hummed and churned beyond her. Bright indigo eyes watching the later half of the fight, for she was far too late to witness the initial response.

The boy’s cry brings an ear to him, but excludes her gaze and concern. She is more amazed by the mare’s hesitation with the sound of her babe’s words beckoning for her safety. That part of Ru did not exist in that moment, far too invested in the way that stallion slithered and snapped at his opponent. How the mare reeled in defense, as if she struggled to stay afloat with an emotion digging deep claws into her being. None that Ru could recognize by experience – but as the fight progressed, it appeared as if that costly mistake quickened the mare’s steps. Enthralled her being into action, making it beyond the cliff.

Iron and the fine wine of relief appears to draw the stranger back to the crowd. It is done – and it is hanging still in the air, as witnesses have a chance to swallow the bitter taste down. Ru’s heart is thrumming in her ears; the proceedings have made her anxious. And she is not yet ready to resolve the conflict, draw away from it all as she finally considers the gathering. There are few faces she recognizes – one, that contrasts against the monochromes.

She will be busy, Ru hums.

The dunskin girl shuffled idly in her spot, wings clutched close to her sides. She casts the lithe, delicate stallion a sidewise glance. Uncertain of his intentions should he loose favor to the title he coveted. Encouraged by the blood that coursed through her veins, the high – despite the wounds assaulting both opponents – ushers the youth to the group. Gazing back, now and then, upon Toulouse with blank eyes. Standing beside the edge of witnesses waiting to embrace the pale, injured mare.  

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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
#17
NO WEALTH, NO LAND, NO SILVER, NO GOLD
NOTHING SATISFIES ME BUT YOUR SOUL

She's been watching the challenge with interest, hidden in the shadows at the back of the gathering with her cold grey eyes focused firmly upon the duelling thieves. Oizys doesn't see the Edge as her long term home - she's hoping Father will return soon and instruct her to go somewhere else - but she's still interested in who holds their highest ranks. Thieves are an important part of any herd, and so far Raeden hasn't done a great deal to impress her. The palomino gelding is well within his rights to challenge her, and secretly Oizys hopes he wins.

Others, however, appear to disagree. The main objector is Mauja, who the gargoyle's mother is friends with, but he's shrieking like a banshee at the notion of the challenge and getting right on Oizys' last nerve. The yearling gives him a disgusted look and edges closer to the rest of the crowd, Ker settled comfortably on her withers and her tail coils snakelike around her hocks. The challenge hots up, savage blows exchanged by both parties, and Oizys watches with interest. When she's older, the battlefield will become her home, her bread and butter; witnessing these sort of scuffles is valuable experience.

The palomino then tries to push his opponent towards the cliff, and Oizys' face lights up. The delicious brutality of it, it makes her shudder with glee! Others do not agree; she thinks Mauja's spots might blow off with his self-righteous fury, and the girl's eyes roll again. She thinks Raeden deserves it - she chats some serious shit, and all's fair in battle. "Push her through the moon door!" the gargoyle cackles at the gelding as he attempts to push the other sleuth over the edge - good on him, Oizys thinks. That's the best way to solidify a victory, and a rank challenge is of the utmost importance. If you can't hack possible death, don't fight, is Oizys' opinion on the matter.

Another man transforms into a pegasus and shoots to her aid, but the grey girl remains stood where she is, her face alight with feral glee at the sight she's witnessing. Ker squawks happily and watches as well, keen to see who arises victorious.

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OIZYS IS ALWAYS RATED M FOR STRONG LANGAUGE IN HER POSTS




Thranduil the Laurelin Posts: 598
Outcast atk: 5.5 | def: 11 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.2 hh :: Eight HP: 77 | Buff: ENDURE
Haldir :: Common Cerndyr :: Dark Mist Hawk
#18

It was perhaps a rather good thing she didn’t actually fall off the cliff...the gold would have made the worst rescuer in history. The gusts off the sea proved more unsteady and uneven than he’d hoped, and though he struggled through, it was quickly clear to him once more he was completely out of his element. His sea blue eyes didn’t even catch how she’d managed to get away from the edge, having been too distracted by the whole entire effort. Yet when he did finally see the two move from the edge the gold decided it might be best to call off his efforts. Somehow playing hero simply wasn’t as fun as playing villain. He didn’t think he’d make it his day job.

It took a few moments, but before long the gold was stepping out from the shadows again. His face looked a bit more worn, and his hide was slightly damp from sweat, but he had been careful to keep the transformation within the shadows of the trees.

The fight had ended, the two on the field muddied and worn, yet it appeared the drama was not over. Several more had gathered, the gold noted as he stepped closer to Rexanna once more. He gave her no hello though as his earth eyes took in the arrivals. One seemed particularly upset. One hark twists back curious, as he sees her practically fuming, demanding an answer. There were only a few he could think of who could wear authority like that. A King (though she had balls, that job was already taken). A Queen (Resembled her, but not the one who had blocked the gold’s stealth a while back). A Head Thief. One was on the field so that left…..A smug grin rose on his face. Perhaps he was wrong, but the gold rarely considered such things.

“The meaning of this is your skills at controlling your ranks appears to have gone stale.” He speaks up, quietly smug and without care. He had enjoyed the gift of seeing his superiors thrash themselves about (well perhaps not when it got a bit serious, but he’d like to forget that small moment when he felt the need to act). He had especially enjoyed watching it without the hint from anyone that he was one they should be particularly worried about. But that was about to change. It had been fun watching invisibly, but he was rarely let himself go on like that for long.

The gold’s crowned head tilts, its smile broad and his vanity uncaring what looks or threats she throws his way. “You should keep a better eye on them.” He then holds. He knew he was poking the bear. He knew it wasn’t even asleep, but awake and growling. But since when did that stop him. “You never know whose name will appear on the roster.”  Or where the next rank challenge would be from. He lets himself give a laugh, letting the humor of all this roll off him like rain on a duck’s back. So much for keeping his head low the first couple of weeks.



"Talk?"
OOC:: Thran's being a sassy pants
we live like thieves
     kings among men


@Iona @Rexanna for mentions

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Ascended Helovian

Mauja the Frozen Light Posts: 1,392
Outcast atk: 6.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 7.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.2 :: 14 HP: 79.5 | Buff: HUNTER
Irma :: Snowy Owl :: Terrorize & Diego :: Eurasian Eagle-Owl :: Rage Neo
#19
Art by Neverr ♥
but somewhere here in between the city walls of dyin' dreams
Beneath the anger pulsing like hammers on hot iron, there was something else. Something more dangerous. Something more deadly.

Something frightened.

A tight, cold vice around his heart, a shadow chasing his pulse, a noose tightening around his neck. A sickness threatening to break out in sweat and ice spires, an attempt to purge and cleanse this stain with blood.

The voice, at first a whisper, grew into a shout, as hard eyes watched Raeden cheat death; is this what we have become?

Iona was on his side. Oizys was not. Kiuaji said nothing, merely watched.

The fighting stilled, and Raeden turned to them. The Laurelin said dangerous things to Iona, little triggers with too short-fuses and dynamite at the other end. He breathed fire on gunpowder and Mauja didn't know if he wanted to be there when it went off. It would be as messy as his tight fear, as his need to run somewhere far away, leave all this shit behind and live happily—peacefully—in a little field of bright flowers and snuggly, warm rabbits.

His gaze, neutral and shielded, just blue as if his ability to hold opinions had died, passed over those gathered. How many of them needed to be there? Did they have a right to witness this depravity, just because they lived here?

Show's over. Go home. Be ashamed of your kin, and how low we have fallen.

"Iona," he called, finally moving, detached and disconnected; a mountain falling, and somewhere, distantly, he was surprised that he hadn't even wobbled. He walked straight, even, somehow. Even his voice didn't betray him, steady as the glaciers, raw as the storm. "Tilney. Lya—" But she was gone, staring out over the Edge, lost in her own world. "Lyanna?" he called, hoping she would not throw herself while they did not look. He looked at the others gathered, but said nothing. If they tried to intervene, he'd throw them out. So until they did.. innocent.

And then he was where he needed to be, but where he did not want to be. Where he stared in the face of all things wrong and poisonous with their kind, all things he wished to remove from the face of their land, a vile venom he had no antidote for. He wanted to snap, to snarl, to bury his horn deep in the gelding's chest, but that would make him no better.

Truth had as many shapes as there were minds to think.

"Were you under orders to go to the Dragon's Throat?" he asked the gelding, voice neutral, eyes once more alive. His body spoke nothing of anger anymore, only the infinite patience and mercilessness of winter.

[ If you guys want to continue it in Lyanna's thread that might be neat? If not, due to dual timelines, Lyanna probably won't be here for the rest. @Toulouse @Raeden ]
angels, they fell first, but I'm still here

Tembovu the Elephant Posts: 805
World's Edge Captain atk: 7 | def: 9.0 | dam: 7.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 18hh :: 10 HP: 77 | Buff: SWIFT
Mbwene :: African Elephant :: Ashen smitty
#20
Tembovu
The images, sounds, words—they were all distorted through Mbwene’s eyes. She didn’t quite understand all that was going on. She didn’t entirely understand all the words that were exchanged. But she understood the body language—that the little matriarch could read quite well. And so she urgently pushed what she saw to her bonded—the King was slowly returning from the Veins of the Gods. There was nothing good coming from this gather of Edgers—at least to her bright blue eyes. Nor from the two shouting, fighting, bleeding creatures on the cliffs.

—‘do—gamble?’—‘—aeden…weapons…’—‘shit…fucking—re-fucking-illy?’— (these words stood out, as they were spoken by…Mauja?) —‘hurt’— (a younger, hurt voice, shaded blue in Mbwene’s vision)

It was not until the image of a golden man pushing the beautiful Raeden towards the cliffs. Was that Toulouse? The image was quite distorted Mbwene’s uncertain, anxious eyes. But it was enough to make the King’s limbs strike out quickly on the earth. They were close enough to the Edge’s borders that his children would be kept safe by the mists and scouts.

Ivory hooves shook the earth as he pounded forward; narrowly missing branches in the fog as Mbwene continued to send flashes of images and snippets of words. A bay pegasus swooping beneath the cliffs; Aji’s proudly arrogant face; Arah enveloping Gawn; Iona’s cold face—

—And then the King was there. It was the end of the battle, Toulouse apparently the victor. There was something strange that stirred in his gut. Disapproval at the man nearly shoving Raeden off the cliffs; attempts to murder fellow herd mates would not be allowed in the Edge. No stakes were high enough within the herdlands for that. But the Elephant King knew of the snake’s predilections; he knew that sharp horns has cut where no sharp horns were meant to be near on a stallion…

So there was something in him—some sort of pity—that held his tongue for a few moments as his navy gaze roved over all those assembled. But his gaze—there was not silencing the sharp slice of that. Though it gentled as it landed on the distressed Gawen. He nickered softly, deeply, to the spotted boy, before raising his head to find Lyanna, Mauja, Iona and Toulouse gathered apart from the group.

A snort passed his nostrils as he approached them.
Once more into the fray
credits | table by Neo


Tembovu arrives, nickers to Gawen, and then will be joining the other thread!

Please tag Tembovu.


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