the Rift

[DROP] The Spirit of Magic Day

Random Event Posts: 1,286
Helovian Ancient
Stallion :: Equine :: ::

Random Event

Your favorite friend is back...

A creature appearing to be a rock meandered through the snowy landscape of the meadow, not in a hurry or a rush. He had all the time in the world to view the beauty of this land and the wonders of those who loved upon this soil. Upon the large shell were paintings and designs which always seemed to shift and turn in the light, glistening and telling tales of ages long before yours.

For the Earth Turtle himself had appeared on this day.

And he is old but never tired.

Once the old beast reached the base of an old tree, which still retained its needle-leaves, he stopped and yawned a great yawn. The winter sun reflected off the white snow and glittered, and if you stopped for a second to look around, you'd see the beauty and magic that the Earth Turtle sees every day. You'd hear the chatter of woodland creatures, the half-frozen river talking, and even the snowflakes crunching beneath the hooves of your brethren.

You'd know that you are never alone.

"MMmmmmm hum... this tree needs.... something...." he thought aloud, looking up at the pretty thing. "Magic day is one to be celebrated in all its glory." The turtle then reached in its shell and pulled out a little orb of green light, hanging it on the highest branch he could reach.

"Everyone decorate the tree with a prize for Magic Day! Perhaps the tree will honor you in return!"


- Bring 1 item to decorate the tree with that is meaningful to your character
- This enters your character in a raffle for prizes and art from Schwartze/Tamme!

** All items will be returned to you
** You can pick up something on the ground and use that if you want

ENDS ON Dec 22 @ 6:00 PM Central Time

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

But with what we have, I promise you that. We're marching on.

They meandered leisurely through the meadow, cloven hooves stepping rhythmically, delicately, on the snow. They kept close to each other, flanks pressed together in an attempt to stay warm. The occasional conversation flitted between them, usually on the subjects of stars and Gods.

'Could we ask the mirror?' Altair would always pipe naively. Frost shook her head, diaphanous forelock cascading downwards, obscuring her vision. 'No, that's for official business only! We can't ask him if Gods sleep on starlight,' the Haruspex sighed and slowly shook her head. Her emeralds trailed upwards, prepared to move to her companion, but the sight she saw made her quickly abandon her thoughts of sleepy Gods.

A smile leapt onto her dark lips, for she recognized that old turtle. She heard his call, and was more than happy to follow it. The mottled maiden trotted closer, her companion following in her footsteps. She paused a few yards from the turtle, dipping her head respectfully to the old beast. "It's a pleasure to see you again," Frost smiled affably, lifting her emeralds to look to the turtle once more. Being in his presence made her feel warm, despite the chill in the air.

Her gaze slid to the tree, her dark brow furrowed at its plain branches. She already knew what to decorate it with. She strode forward and gently shook the rose in her hair out of its hold. The maiden picked it up delicately, and tucked it gently amongst the branches of the tree. She took a couple steps back, admiring its glistening, ruby red appearance, though part of her felt a little downcast to see it there. As silly as it sounds, the little trinket had become part of her. Without the rose in her hair, she didn't feel like quite the same person. Oh, but that was why she put it up there, to let a piece of her shine on the tree. She would fetch it back later.

Frost decorates the tree with her rose encased in glass item <3

Dawn is coming
open your eyes

Volterra the Indomitable Posts: 785
Dragon's Throat Sultan atk: 8.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 8.5
Stallion :: Equine :: 17'2hh :: 3 HP: 80 | Buff: SENSE
Vérzés :: Common Red Dragon :: Frost Breath & Toxic Breath & Vadir :: Royal Gold Dragon :: Fire Breath & Shock Breath Snow


He knows this time of year. He knows what happens, the turtle and the tree bearing gifts, and his heart pulses with excitement as the familiar draw tugs at his heart.

His stride turns fluidly into a trot, crunching across the snow with his colossal hooves whilst apprehension drags at his chest. These events do not always end well for him - he's still recovering from the sheer humiliation of his temporarily stunted genitals - but he is not going to miss out on the potential for gifts. The Indomitable's sheer greed easily outweighs any misgivings he may have, and his body language does not speak of anything other than easy confidence and excitement.

It is not long before he has arrived, a mere black sentinel before the great bulk of the tree. The turtle stands before it, proud and, in a strange way, beautiful. The leviathan has no time to admire such beauty, though. The tree must be decorated, and it takes the stallion a moment to rack his brains and decide what to put on it. Whatever it is, he has no intention of leaving it behind - its stint on the tree will be only temporary - but it is still an important choice. If the item helps decide the origins of any prizes, then Volterra is determined to excel himself.

From his face he pulls the blackened skull of Gashad; he rarely wears it outside battle, but by coincidence he'd decided to sport it today. He moves forwards and places the grisly item upon one of the middle branches, where it hangs like an ugly stepbrother besides the pretty items placed by others. "This is the skull of my first opponent," he growls by way of explanation, as though daring anybody to question why he's putting such an odd item on the tree. "It brings me strength, and reminds me that sheer indomitable spirit can outweigh any odds." Gashad had been larger than him, terrifying in his bony glory, yet Volterra had prevailed despite his inexperience. Back then, he was not a warlord - just a boy new to the battlefield, living off hopes more than skill.

It worked, though. He survived to fight another day, and his opponent did not. The mask signifies that, and as the leviathan steps back he hopes it will be enough.

Volterra decorates the tree with Gashad's skull, a memento of his first fight/kill.


[ you can't stray from what you are, you're the closest thing to hell i've seen so far  ]
[ use of force/magic on him is permitted aside from death/maiming ]

Nyx Posts: 292
Deceased atk: 7.5 | def: 9.5 | dam: 6.0
Mare :: Unicorn :: 16hh :: 11 HP: 72 | Buff: SWIFT
Dominus :: White Lion :: None Snow


The silver soldier is so long in the tooth now that she knows about these events more than most. She knows they can be good or ill, and that a selected few can sometimes leave with precious gifts. As a result, she's quick to approach, as eager as she was the first time she attended such a gathering.

The tree brings back memories of her first Frostfall here, when she'd been just too late to receive anything. The raw beauty had ensnared her, though, and a fond smile spreads across her face as nostalgia grips her. How long ago had that been - four, five years? Six children and numerous life events later, she's back for more.

Her gaze travels to the turtle, majestic next to the tree. She slows to a halt and flicks her mane out of her eyes, thinking of something meaningful she can donate. There's her weapons, but nothing that she would describe as meaningful. They are just items, with no history or personal value. It strikes her quickly, and she draws the relevant item carefully from her mane. It is a tuft of white fluff, which Dominus snagged on a thorn as he was getting used to having the broad mantle of fur around his shoulders. So long ago....

She delicately places the fur onto one of the lowest branches before stepping back. "This is fur from my companion's mane when he first grew it." At her heels, Dominus gives an approving growl and curls around her legs like a housecat. To others, it is just a tuft of fluff; to her, it is a memory and a reminder of the love she has for her lion.

Nyx places a tuft of fur from Dominus' mane.

Other characters have permission to use magic/violence against Nyx at any time.

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

Glasgow hadn’t arrived during the giving tree last year – but oh did she hear about it. This year, she made it a note specifically to be around the Meadow in hopes of being able to attend. It had proven itself successful, and being near the Edge truly helped as well. As she made her way through the frozen grasses and snow covered bushes, she heard the gentle voice of others ringing from a place not far from her location. Immediately, she turned her course toward the sound, arriving on a small gathering with a large turtle and a few others already gathered.

There was the blanketed mare that she had previously met in the Threshold. Nyx, the general that went off at the Edge meeting. And another man whom she didn’t recognize, lifting and placing a skull of some sort onto the tree. Her head tilted slightly, but she made her way toward the man’s side – curious if her glassy gaze wasn’t failing her as she looked at it. She stood, next, up to the tree, her scars lining her face glinted in the light as she turned her head toward the only item she carried that really meant something to her (not the little knotted string, of course, but something that meant more). It took a bit of wiggling, but she managed to grasp the piece of her broken horn that she kept braided in her tail, the little piece of string that kept it situated, and hung it on a branch as far as she could reach.

Her glassy gaze watched the sharp horn as it dangled like a precarious icicle a bit below where Volterra had hung the head, and quietly she looked away from all those gathered to speak of what the simple broken horn meant to her. “A piece of my horn, broken off in battle, to remind me to never give up.” Short and sweet, to the point, and after her raspy voice had finished, her gaze landed on the pale glassy horn once again.


what a strange illusion it is,
to suppose that beauty is goodness

image credits

Aithniel the Inquisitor Posts: 169
Outcast atk: 6.5 | def: 9.0 | dam: 4.0
Mare :: Tribrid :: 15.0hh :: 4 Years HP: 75 | Buff: NOVICE
Zerachiel :: Royal Griffin :: Molten Dagger tamme
the world is kept alive only by heretics

Aithniel and Zera flew side by side, heading south after exploring the north. Gaucho had taught her (indirectly) that a good lead seemed to be everyone all at once, so she spent a considerable amount of time traveling. With a deep breath, she enjoyed the dichotomy of the chilly air and the bright sun overhead, silver eyes observing the landscape fade by like a dream beneath her wings. Zera was less impressed as he narrowed his golden eyes, a pillar of strength and emotional resolve which she was certainly not.

A gathering below caught her eye and she descended, hearing the Earth Turtle call all of them to put something meaningful on the tree. Aithniel stood at a distance for a moment, thinking, and then smiled. She would have to travel for hers, but it would be perfect.

Zera stayed behind and watched, the large griffin judging from a nearby perch as he waited for his bond mate to return. And she did, eventually. Aithniel brought with her a large piece of drift wood with a rough likeness of the Dragon's Throat fire painted on it. Having a lion's tail with a tuft came in handy. The dragon's tree blood was bright and stained the wood elegantly, and she put the item up high in the boughs where her wings could carry her above their heads.

When she landed again, Aithniel smiled boldly, hanging around to see other trinkets offered. Volterra's skull was a source of pride and amusement, and she was glad that her herd was so bold. Hopefully each of the members of the Dragon's Throat brought something valuable and gutsy to hand on the boughs.

The Sun God would be honored in any season.

If today was Magic Day, then she praised fire and light.

But burn down our home
I won't leave alive

Please tag me in everything!

Amalrik Posts: 12
Stallion :: Hybrid :: 17.0 hh :: 1 year


Amalrik was wandering as only a boy of his age could - recklessly and without any concerns. The world was wide and his youthful legs could only take him so far every day. His father disappeared and reappeared in typical Ulrik fashion, but he was okay with that. It gave him time to think and act on his own and truly grow up to be an individual, not just his father's son. In this way, he thought Ulrik was a great parent, even if he was emotionally distant and very... weird.

Still, he was dad and he loved him.

That was about the time in his thoughts that he stumbled upon a group of adults. They were all gathered around a tree and some old ass turtle who spoke their language without being a companion. That was weird. Cool, he supposed, but weird. Amalrik raised a brow when the turtle told them it was "magic day" - was that a thing? A new thing? Was this some sort of holiday tradition they were supposed to care about now?

He kept his thoughts to himself and grabbed the weird vial of feathers that ghost demon thing had given up and tossed it up on a branch with his horn. He had nothing else to give, and honestly, nothing meant much to him at the moment. Unlike some of these others, he didn't carry around pieces of his father's hair with him, and he was too young to be that attached. So....

A vial of feathers basically summed up his current emotional experience regarding "magic day".

The asshole child smirked.

Art by Lunarblues <33

Please tag me in every post

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
and oh, there is more to this life
Winters breath never held Tilney, not even on the coldest of days. While the sun was out there was a certain bitterness to the atmosphere as the doctor strode through the meadow, following a pilgrimage. He'd not heard of Magic Day before, though he could only assume it was some sort of celebration for the wonders Helovia held.
All he knew was that his flock had turned towards a target in the meadow, and os that was where he headed.

It was not long until he encountered a group, one filled with both familiar and unfamiliar faces. Some seemed far from home and others from his own herdland who would of travelled a great distance still. Nyx and her white lion were easy to pick and Glasgow... someone he called a friend. Once upon a time, anyhow. Temporary desctruction of the friendzone tended to change things.
There was no eye contact, not with the glazier anyway (He was quite certain she despised him; how could he looked at her after that) and as he  listened to the strange rock-like creatures chortle he thought of what he might offer to make the tree brighter.

Tilney came only equipped with his cloak and his lions mane collar - both were quite unnapropriate to dress a holiday tree?
But the lantern he constantely wore on his tines what a whole different story.
A smile finally finding his maw the ginger stag stepped fourth to the trees and slid his lantern upon a high branch. "This lantern allows me to see in the dark. Without it I would be left blind, confused and at the mercy of any beast come nightfall" he uttered, green eyes turning to the crowd. It was no longer a confession now that the King and Queen knew of this as well as countless others. He was proud now that he could overcome it.
"Aiya!" was his chant, watching the lantern light with a magnificent puff.
image credits

Tilney hangs his lantern! <3

Wander or Leave
turn in to winter lights

Tyrath Posts: 61
Outcast atk: 5 | def: 8.5 | dam: 6
Stallion :: Tribrid :: 17.2 :: 2 [birdsong] HP: 64.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Harcos :: Common Red Dragon :: Fire Breath Nova

The giving tree was something Tyrath had heard from the mouth of excited little foals whose mothers and fathers spoke of the great tree and the Earth God's kindly companion, the Earth Turtle. A tufted ear had carefully flickered in the voices direction at that particular note. While the notion of presents and celebrations didn't fail to elicit a pleasant grin from the ashen colt, companions fascinated him to no end. A companion of a God? Now that was worth listening in to, he was a budding stallion who drank richly from the waters of knowledge, however meager or outlandish each tale or snippet was.

They painted a picture of a wizened old turtle, whose shell was painted in all manner of decorations, the imbued, magical-like ink shifted and changed with each blink, and it's kindly words and warmth touched even the most coldest heart. Needless to say, Tyrath's curiosity and excitement was captivated, and when he spied what he could only assume was the beginning of the festivities, he decided to tag along in the air.

He landed with a soft crunch in the snow, his wings which had grown in leaps and bounds, far larger than his body indicated that the brute of a colt would ascend to monolithic heights, and join his father's own imposing standing. "Apa." His horned head dipped toward his father as he approached the tree and the wizened old turtle who stood beside it. "Mother." It's spoken with a gentleness often not found on his lips, his growing frame brought with it a growing and expanding mind. He regarded Aithniel for a moment longer before he turned his attention back to the Earth Turtle.

He asked for them to decorate it with something of worth, and his head reached toward the mess of white and chocolate locks to pull at the iridescent golden scale tangled within the hair.

"This is a scale from when I first discovered my magic," he explained, gently he placed it on the tree as though it was made from glass , a fragile and precious thing it was "I learned to defend myself that day, and that I had been born with a gift."

"talk talk talk"

These things I bury inside
to keep away from the light
Don't you dare pray for me

Credits: Image by Art Credit

Tyrath decorates the tree with a Gold Dragon Scale.
[Image: tyrath_by_bronzehalo_d9yw5wg_by_arahvir-d9yx9ov.png]

Eleanor Posts: 15
Filly :: Hybrid :: 16.0 :: 6 months
Miranda :: Plain Black Dragon :: Fire Breath & Toxic Breath Tamme
City made of thin glass
Smoldering in pitch black
Eleanor enjoyed her small exploration period. After getting lost, found and blessed in the cave system beneath Helovia, she finally emerged with the vibrant, sassy black dragon child snaking through her dark and pink hair. The babe was tiny but potent and fast, accented with pink eyes, horns along her spine and perfect, leathery black wings. Ellie had no idea if Miranda would be able to breathe fire or how big she would grow, but she was enjoying the snappy flashes of pictures and emotions in her mind.

The dragon seemed to enjoy wrapping herself around Ellie's silver horns and watching the world as she walked by. At least Ellie thought so from the images of the bright sun and smiles she saw pop into her head now and then. Their bond was wild and untamed, a thick chord of thoughts and feelings flooding both directions. At times, it was overwhelming, but she was blessed. Without a doubt, she was blessed.

Ellie found herself at a tree then, seeing a turtle with a painted shell telling everyone to decorate the tree for Magic Day. The girl smiled but she didn't have anything to give. Everyone else seemed to offer something meaningful or rather dark. There was a skull on the tree, something covered in blood - even a piece of a horn!

The lantern was a nice touch though, so pretty. Ellie hummed thoughtfully and went to the river nearby, grabbing a pretty, smooth rock and then Miranda took it from her teeth and snaked it up the tree. The black dragon balanced it on a branch. Their contribution was meager but meaningful, and she grinned when she saw her cousin, Amalrik.

"Hey Amal!" she said warmly. "Why feathers?" When she got the full story about how the boy didn't really care, she chastised him by nipping at his bearded jaw. "You think you're so cool, huh? Well I hope the turtle gives you feathers up the nose."

Toulouse Posts: 146
Aurora Basin Impersonator atk: 8.0 | def: 11.0 | dam: 4.0
Gelding :: Equine :: 17hh :: Six HP: 74 | Buff: ENDURE
Boomslang :: Green Ratsnake :: Paralyze Neverrmind

This one was a rather cultured Vampire; he'd tasted quite a lot of what the animal kingdom had on offer. It was not as if there was a menu or a waiter though - Hunting and gathering were your only options as primal and hideous as it was to the gilded gelding.
However, he had never tasted turtle before.

And so it was this intrigue that caused him to stalk that dreadful rock-like creature across the snow. He followed at a great distance, waiting until the turtle was the size of a pea i nthe distance before he would continue on behind the decrepit thing. Toulouse would assume he was most incredibly lost, given most turtles only lived in the sea or in warm rivers.
"Are you... looking for something?" the pale T'detan asked the creature upon arriving at the tree, though soon he found that he was not alone - in fact quite the party had arrived.
This was a rather important turtle apparently.

Taking in the stone-thing's insructions, the pale one gave a shrug and looked over what he had on his person besides the precious bejweled kaftan he wore. There was no way he would strip in front of strangers - of course these savage helovians didn't mind standing naked in the snow but he was a creature of pure sophistication was he not?
So the serpent settled on an elegant piece of fabric, one he kept with him from a former life. It could of been a piece off his head scarf (it matched in texture and colour) but the idea that his scarf was torn sent him into a bit of a tatter and so quickly threw it from his minds eye.
It was tiny, pocket-sized even, but it fit snugly between some pine needles. He needn't give any kind of speech to the on-lookers did he? The scarves he wore were designed to cover the vicious scarring on his flanks and where almost the entirety of his manhood was taken - there was no way he was standing up to this happy gathering and telling them of that.
Happy magic day? By the four, I'm going home.

Do not cry or hit the alarm. You know we're friends till you die.

toulouse places a piece of an old scarf




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
so i listen to the    wind for an answer
Helovia never ceases to amaze her. Perhaps, by now, she should know better than to find herself surprised, but she cannot help it. Though surprised may not be the right word. Awed, impressed, intrigued. Maybe it’s a little bit of everything. Not one word feels quite right for the way she feels when she spots the Earth Turtle, his shell painted with stories that she’d never know.

She’d been flying, as she often does, heading home over the Meadow from the Deep Forest when a voice had caught her attention. Everyone decorate the tree with a prize for Magic Day! Magic Day? What is Magic Day? Curiosity coursing through her, she lands a bit of a ways off, tucking her wings to her side and walking the remaining distance.

She spots Glasgow and Tilney, though before she can join either of them, she makes her way to the tree first. She’d seen Tilney hang his lantern on the tree, leaving such an important piece of him behind. What did she have to offer? So little in this life, except the one thing that had ever really mattered to her. Hope. To her, it took the form of a ruby. Of all the rubies that glimmered in the pool of the Deep Forest. She had gone today looking for him – as she is always looking for him – and had found only the pool.

Though ice had formed on the surface of the pool, the layer was thin, and she’d taken another of the rubies, thinking to find a chain for it and give it to him. Or perhaps something that Zola could wear. She hadn’t decided what, but the idea of making something for him in return gave her hope and made her feel both giddy and foolish. She’d done it anyway though, and the ruby was still in her mouth. Perhaps it was intended for this tree all along. She places the ruby in the branches of the tree before speaking. “A ruby, the first gift I ever received from my first friend in Helovia. Hope when I had none.”

She steps away from the tree, offering Tilney a nod, and coming to stand by Glasgow’s side. She offers her friend a warm smile, reaching out her nose to tap the pale mare on the neck if she’ll allow it, before watching and waiting to see what might happen.


art by yewrezz

Lyanna hangs a ruby!

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

Syrena Posts: 207
Dragon's Throat Forger
Mare :: Hybrid :: 16.1 hh :: 7 years
Thelxiepeia :: Royal Rougarou :: Water Kyra
let the water take me
It’s cold in the Falls. Like, cold enough she just needs to leave. Not that it’s warmer elsewhere, but she’s wandering south anyway, seriously considering visiting the Throat for a friendly hello. Because obviously, she’s one for friendly hello’s. Though maybe she could show up and meet their Diviner. But this thought is cut short at the sound of someone (or something, she never can be sure in Helovia) calling out about decorating a tree.

Alright, there was some weird stuff in this place, but this was a new level of weird. Decorating a tree?

Why does she go? Because she’s stupid. It’s the only logical explanation she can come up with for why she does anything these days. Why does she work for a herd she barely knows, or a God she barely knows, in a land she couldn’t give two shits about? Well that one she has an answer to. It is a means to an end; it is the way to become something if she’s stuck being not a siren. Basically, those were her options.

There’s, shockingly, a crowd already. She keeps to the edge of the group, ocean eyes fixed on the turtle who’s back gleams with all the stories she spends her days trying to collect. Could she simply watch his shell and learn the history of this place? The stories seem old, somehow, though she finds the move faster than she can learn it all. This, if nothing else, keeps her here. Though the promise of a potential reward that gets her trying to figure out just what she can put on the tree.

She wouldn’t give up the only item she has of any worth, and truthfully, she can’t get the charm out of her mane to give that up. These are the only things she has to give. The only items she calls her own. And it’s not like she was planning on decorating a tree when she left the Falls today, so she didn’t come armed with something. She could grab some snow off the ground, but that seems entirely like cheating.

Ah, but she does have scales. They seem so insignificant to others, perhaps. But to her, they are one of the only things she still has of the siren she used to be. They are a reminder every day of who she should be, of what she is worth, and why she works for herds and Czars and Gods. To be worthy of the sea, of her sisters, of her heritage.

Putting one of the tree, of course, means ripping it off herself, which she is less than pleased about. But she does it, grabbing a scale in her teeth and tearing it from the underside of her belly. She stifles a yelp, refusing to look weak in front of other horses. Instead, she places the scale on the tree. “A piece of the sea,” she says, because she cannot bring herself to say, A piece of my heart. It is close enough though, for her heart will always belong to the sea.


darya87 | larfsalot
on deviantart

Syrena places a gray fish scale from herself on the tree

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

December Posts: 144
Deceased atk: 3.5 | def: 7 | dam: 8
Mare :: Equine :: 16.3hh :: 6 (Frostfall) HP: 65 | Buff: NOVICE
Carl :: Ccara Llama :: None Watermel0nBob
& this is Carl

She was trying to be happy. If not for her own sake than Miykael's. Yet it was hard with each passing day without her daughter to even think about anything remotely happy, because what was the point of trying if she couldn't be happy with her. She had stopped looking awhile ago, she didn't bother calling out for Merialeth when she awoke in the mornings, because she knew there would be no answer. She had stopped making a bed for the child to sleep in next to her way before then. She was simply grieving now, despite her stubborn desire to keep hoping, the logical part of her mind that had come with years of jaded anguish insisted that she use her energy on better things. Like trying to keep her relationship with her mate. She barely saw him anymore, who knows what he was doing. She had stopped asking about the time she stopped looking for her child. There wasn't a point to try doing anything anymore simply for the fact she felt there was no point if she only came back empty-handed.

So when she heard the Earth Turtle and his special Giving Tree were back in town, she had decided that perhaps she could find some joy in seeing him. She didn't have anything better to do anyway. Making her way through the snow with Carl at her side, she noticed that many had gathered already. There wasn't anyone she really knew, aside from a familiar bluish woman who she had met back when she was a Falls member. And she had been a bitch, so who cares about her. Snorting, she brushed past everyone as gently as possible so as not to shove anyone, before finally looking at the Earth Turtle silently. Did he grant wishes? Or did he simply give away little gifts in hopes they would make the world better? She needed to stop thinking about those thoughts. She dipped her head to him politely, silently, before looking to the tree he wanted everyone to decorate.

She didn't have much to give, didn't really have anyone to share this special moment with. She was slowly but surely going back to being alone, and it killed her inside to even let the possibility of it surface. Her eyes were filled with muted sadness, and with a tender sigh to looked to Carl, watching him silently before asking for something through their connection. He seemed hesitant at first, but when he felt the hopelessness and sadness ripple through her, he couldn't help but comply. So with a gentle tug into his coat she yanked free a few strands of wool, before slowly turning back to the tree and doing her best to lace them through the branches. These were something special to her, because Carl had been the one constant through her entire life here. That was something she could find comfort in.

"If wishes come true, then please bring me back my baby..." she whispered into the branches so no one could hear, closing her eyes to take in the scent of pine, before finally turning back to the Turtle and dipping her head once more. Carl was suddenly in a giving mood too, for he lifted his head and sent a huge wad of spit in the lower branches effortlessly. This was his own little meaningful memento. Taking a deep breath December stood back, looking at the gathering horses silently, before at once turning and leaving the clearing as quickly as she came.


Image Credits

December has offered some of Carl's wool
Carl has offered spit because why not


Force is permitted aside from death or maiming

Myrrine Posts: 179
Deceased atk: 5.5 | def: 9.5 | dam: 5.0
Mare :: Pegasus :: 16hh :: 3 (Orangemoon) HP: 64.5 | Buff: NOVICE

Snow was falling by the time she had reached the meadow. She hadn't seen this creature before; but everyone claimed he was a very nice man that sometimes offered gifts. She knew Laume would love him, even if she didn't come see him with her. She tried to bite back the tears at her sudden thinking, and instead carried herself gracefully and quietly through the crowd of horses, careful not to acknowledge or make eye contact with anyone. She wanted to make this quick, to see who this Turtle was, and then go back to sulking in her little hideout she had made back in the Throat. She didn't want to bring attention to herself, didn't want to be reminded just how alone she was.

Swallowing, she looked at this great Earthen creature curiously, before offering him a tender smile. With the flicker of her butterfly wings, she finally turned to the tree, wondering what she should decorate it with. She didn't have much to offer, and as she searched through her mind for something good, she suddenly looked up in surprise and smiled. Of course! What had she been thinking? Grabbing a tendril of her mane, she slowly untangled the small pink charm that was laced within it. She had earned this with Cerin during the great flood, and it held pleasant memories for her. She loved Cerin, even if he was long gone.

When it was finally free from her tresses, she turned to the pine tree curiously; wondering where to place it. It was rapidly growing with decorations, and she couldn't help but grow excited for the more that were to come. Holding the charm in her lips she gently hoisted herself onto her hind legs, nestling the charm safely into a few boughs that were near the top of the pine. That would do nicely, and the pink coloring was visible even from down here! Smiling to herself she looked back to the Turtle happily, hoping he would approve, before slowly turning away from the crowd and making her way back home.

" Speak"

OOC: Myrrine has offered her pink flower charm!
Life's too short to live simply
semperfeisty | xxtgxxstock @dA | leeorr-stock @dA | jerry oldenettel @ flickr
Any force is permitted aside from death or maiming

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

The tree holds Helovians in its thrall, a green sentinel that bids them to empty their innermost secrets at its trunk. They offer their meaningful gifts, their hearts, their souls, their deepest memories, in the hope of a small trinket or favour.

Unfortunately for the festive spirit, Oizys is not the sort to give such personal information away. She's the sort to rampage through your Christmas dinner, spit at your grandma and steal your presents. It's just how she is.

She tames herself slightly for the benefit of the turtle - if she marches into the clearing in full bitch mode, she'll probably be forcibly ejected. In her mouth she holds a small blackbird, killed by Ker but slyly stolen from the eagle for this very purpose. The gargoyle darts towards the tree, tail flickering around her hocks as she lays down the grisly prize next to the vial of feathers placed by a handsome two-horned colt of a similar age to her, noting with a smirk that somebody else is taking this 'magic day' as not-serious as herself.

This is Bob, my first friend. May he rest in peace. A mock tear threatens to fill those cold grey eyes as she carefully arranges her bird in the tree, but her wicked smile does not reach them. The words are on the tip of her tongue, but she resists; she does not want to alienate the creature and risk being condemned with x-ray vision like last time. Instead she retreats with a snort and eyes the gold-embossed colt with interest - he'll be worthy of a conversation later, perhaps, once the good swag gets handed out.

image credits

Oizys offers a dead bird because she's gross. Gives @Amalrik the lusty eyes because he put a shitty gift too.

[ the gargoyle queen ]

Merlin Posts: 15
Up For Adoption
Filly :: Hybrid :: 17hh :: 1 (Frostfall)
Mordred :: Merlin :: None Adoptable

Why was I here again? Oh yes! I wanted free shit. I had heard through the grapevine through many people that this stupid Turtle thing gave away gifts every year as long as you just talked to him. That was simple enough, give him one of my pretty smiles, grab my gift and be on my merry way. That wouldn't be too hard, right? Well I seemed to have forgotten just how easy it was for word to spread through Helovia, and soon there was a large group of horses patiently circled around the beast. With a swish of my tail I huffed, Mordred crooning next to me in irritation. He had had enough socializing after dealing with all the dick wads we had been dealing with. I couldn't really blame him, but he would need to suck it up until I got my present, because right now this was much more important than his own needs.

As I listened to the creature rumble and place an orb atop the tree, I rolled my eyes and looked around at the others. Decorating a tree for Magic Day? How cheesy was that? Well whatever got me something cool I supposed. Working my way up to the center, I smiled very sweetly to the turtle and softly spoke to him,"Happy Magic Day! Thank you so much for this glorious opportunity to meet you." I was laying it on a little thick, but I didn't care; instead I looked up at the massive tree littered with tons of knick knacks and trinkets. It was beginning to look like a garbage heap. Biting my tongue, I turned my head sweetly to my little raptor, batting my long lashes and speaking softly to him,"Mordred darling, be a dear and place one of your feathers on one of the highest branches. There isn't many decorations there." What I really meant by that was place our decoration where everyone would notice it, without being hidden by the other gaudy baubles.

With a sweet trill his obliged, lifting himself from my shoulders and flying gracefully to the near tippy top of the tree happily. Plucking two soft feathers from his body, one from his chest and the other from his back, he managed to place the two right next to each other, copper and blue complimenting each other perfectly. Satisfied, he returned to his usual spot upon my back, preening my mane lovingly in hopes of some sort of reward. With a tender brush of my lips I thanked him, pleased with his placement, before finally looking to the Earth Turtle expectantly. Any minute now, he would be giving me  gift, and I would be able to gtfo.



I'm a zombie with no notion of regret

Merlin has offered two of Mordred's feathers!

Image Credits
[url=][/url]Table base by ChatoicMelodies and customized by Watermel0nBob

Force/Any Physical Contact is permitted at all times, beside from maiming or death.


Maude Posts: 140
World's Edge Filly
Filly :: Unicorn :: 15.3 :: Yearling

Maude watches her father’s lantern light with a whimsical giggle: the perfect sound of childish delight, at the perfect world unfolding before her.

From this close, the sap smell of the evergreen is obvious, as obvious as the turtle’s uncountable age. Admiring the ancient tortoise whenever she dared steal a glance, she wondered how many had come to know this being, as it seemed many treated him with friendly glances, or respectful nods. Though this is Maude’s first time meeting him, she is certainly sure as to why everyone else seems to like him so much.

He is kind, though how she knows, she’s not sure. Maybe it’s the lines on his old turtle face, or the way he’s invited everyone together, even though they’ve all come from other places, and surely different because of it. Looking at what is already up there on the boughs, including her father’s shining lantern, Maude quickly decides to be gracious with her belongings, as well.

Lifting her head up and tilting her growing antlers with strategic bobs, nods, and wriggles, she wraps her strand of pearls about a reachable branch. Stepping away to admire her work when she thinks she’s done, she hurries back to resettle part of the strand which remains lose. When, at last, she’s finished, Maude happily steps away from her work, beaming at the elderly turtle with all the delighted pride she can manage.

My Auntie Ultima gave me these pearls,” she cheerfully explains, her smile falling ever so slightly as she adds: “I don't get to see her much anymore, because she got a new important job! You see, she looks a lot like a pearl, so I can't ever forget her, or how pretty she is! Because I have these to remember her by.

With her smile renewed, she happily steps back and away with her family, cheerfully watching the rest of those gathered give their most treasured gifts to the tree.

[ OOC: Maude puts her strand of pearls on the tree! ]

If you’re tossing & you’re turning,
& you just can’t fall asleep,
I’ll sing a song beside you. and if you ever forget
how much you really mean to me, every day,
I will remind you.

Art by neverrmind @ DA

Hold onto this lullaby, even when the music's gone.

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
The sight of the Earth Turtle again among the people of Helovia is a welcome one; his weathered image immediately draws to mind the last time I’d seen him. Glancing about for the others I’d arrived to that occasion with, I spy one of them, feeling the same pang of guilt and betrayal strike through me.

Sister, I call her. She places a carved branch in the boughs, letting me know at the sight of her pale figure placing things at the peak of the tree that I’ve arrived late, as I usually do in my life. Other trinkets already bedeck the thing, as well, which is vaguely remembered from my youth, though not in person.

No, of all days, Magic Day had been the one mother had left me at home.

Looking at it now, I hate her retrospectively more than I had in the moment. What a thing to have robbed your child of, I think, watching companions scurry up the trunk with treasures in tow, the small accoutrement of items already wildly interesting. The sheer number of bodies and the array of small groups they’re clustered in provide me plenty of opportunities to remain hidden enough. Unless someone was distinctly looking for me, hard, I’d be easy to miss in this group.

At least until I approach the tree, the gentle urging of my companion driving me on, though part of me wonders if maybe we shouldn’t both recede into the wild again, away from all these people. He’s excited, though, and has already pulled a bit of his antler vine away to offer the tree in celebration (a great gift, considering he lets nothing harm his vines, even insects, or really hungry friends who don’t want to eat more cave moss).

Some gift to rob your child of, he mocks, playfully.

Yeah, yeah, I mutter back, removing the pretty gold band about my horn to place on the tree. It was meaningful enough, having been found in the cold ground last year, along with my armor, when I'd been pondering giving it up, and going back home to the Basin. I'd taken their discovery as an omen to forge onward, to strike my will against the iron of fate, and so I had.

Wondering if its really a good idea to put valuables on a tree, I decide that, fuck it, this is for the sake of the holidays, right?, and quickly drop the metal band into place, while Duir places his vine. When both gifts are sturdily in place, we slip back into the crowd without an explanation of our items, as many others seem to be doing, not feeling quite that seasonal, after all.

[ OOC: Rikyn puts his gold horn band on the tree, and Duir puts one of his head-grown (hurrrhurrrhurrrr) ivy vines. ]

Coding by Tamme - Image by Dingo

Wishlist - Plots

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

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

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 Earth Turtle reigned again (and Deimos had never understood him, why he granted, why he gave, why he bestowed), but this time the Reaper couldn’t stand along the sidelines, drifting through the shadows, or watching from afar. In some strange, concocted scheme, they were now required to hang something from the massive tree. He watched, face impassive, muted, blank, as other creatures roamed closer to the outstretched limbs, hanging off precious items – some nearly made him chuckle (because they were dead, decrepit things, and he had half a mind to wander to a nearby nest of animals and merely extract one from their den, pin it to a pine needle and let it rest there, twisted and dark), and others merely caused him to ponder. He didn’t have anything truly special to stick on the branches; he was not a sentimental creature and rarely kept artifacts to remember someone, or something, by. The only piece that had a noteworthy place was the bone armor of Confutatis, but that’d been earned, taken, snatched from her claws when she’d dared to threaten them again. So, instead, he remembered the tiny acorn charm nestled between a few strayed tendrils of his sable mane, and reached along his withers for the little trinket. It glowed, bronze and coppery, and he sighed, stepping forward amongst the realm of kin and strangers (paying heed to a few with a bobbed head and diligent silence, like their Haruspex), and left it drooping along a bough, just as shiny as the day he’d received it. There was no explanation given – he simply remained stoic and impassive, and backed away with another nod of his skull, of his crown, to the turtle, becoming one more witness to the charades once more.

[Deimos contemplates putting a dead squirrel on the tree, but puts his acorn charm there instead.]

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

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