the Rift


[OPEN] Memories & Metals

Dragomir Posts: 275
World's Edge Glazier atk: 6 | def: 9 | dam: 5
Stallion :: Equine :: 17" :: 7 HP: 64.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Bunnie
#1

The Sun was warm today, despite Orangemoon’s best efforts to bring a chill to the lands of Helovia. 
 
The unusually cheerful day had lured Dragomir to the sea, where he stood a fair distance from the whisper of the shore (and whatever mists might be cast off by the rolling waves), his coat having received the message that cold was coming early on; rippling in the wind, the already quite padded tri-color stallion worries about getting his plethora of winter fur wet.  No matter the presence of the Sun’s warmth overhead, it would take too long to dry, and the breeze, while falsely portrayed to be akin to the cheerful, sunny atmosphere itself, was borderline chilly, as Orangemoon breezes often were.
 
He had also learned, with much disgruntlement at first, that his satchels and the harness that bore them did not particularly like getting wet.  Thankfully, he was also not an idiot, and had managed to come by an abandoned hive, and enough wax to waterproof the majority of the leather, soon after this discovery.  He was not entirely sure, however, what salt water would do to his second most prized possessions, knowing well enough what it could do to one’s fetlock hair (of which he had plenty, even in Tallsun) if it wasn’t rinsed it out properly.
 
Dragomir found that such thoughts weren’t overtly prevalent in his mind; they had served more as small nudges of fate leading him directly where he stands. 
 
To the right of one of his massive hooves, a lumpy, dark stone rests in the sand.  It is seemingly unremarkable, even ugly, for its shape is lumpy and half-hazard, not smooth, polished, or even desirable in color, like many of the quartz or shale stones that one could find on a beach such as this.  Unassumingly it waits for him to shuffle his hooves unconsciously as he thinks to himself of his family, far away on the Dragon Isle, and how his mother will never again stand and look out on the sea, as he did now.
 
Buried beneath the sand, beneath his large foot, the unbroken Cassiterite geode assumes its long desired position along side a sizable chunk of black, porous basalt with a metallic secret hidden within.  Overhead, Dragomir’s thoughts swim from his mother’s remembered figure, to the shining dragon wheeling through the air behind her, jettisons of flame bright as the sunshine belched in broad waves, so he could burst through them with precision spirals.
 
The stones hum, and glow, not that anyone notices but the grains of sand about them.  Again, he thinks of the bronze, his wings pulled back, neck arched, the flicker of light at the base of his neck where his fire welled…
 
Quite suddenly, his hoof is flung upwards against his will.  For someone like Dragomir, who is naturally anxious to begin with, the result is quite explosive.
 
"What the!!" he bellows, his haunches buckling and shuffling his towering frame in a nervous (and incredibly awkward) backwards escape, his pouches and amulet slapping comically against his chocolate body.  Entirely positive that he has been assaulted by some shining, tiny sand demon at first, his eyes are wide as saucers, and he nearly capsizes in an effort to get away from his own creation.
 
Shuddering from a short distance away when he realizes that whatever it is, isn’t moving, he slowly inches back towards it, his nose low, his hot breath swiftly blowing wisps of dust up from the sand.  Stopping close enough to nudge it (though he most certainly does not), Dragomir’s fearful breaths suddenly become no breaths at all.
 
Israfel? he thinks, pale blue eyes widening at the miniature image of his mother’s bonded in the sand, exactly as he had been imagining him moments before.

[ OOC: For anyone! <3 Replaced the table as the first was horribly broken xD ]
Dragomir
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Any violence/magic is allowed to be used upon Dragomir at anytime, permitting it doesn't kill or seriously maim him without my permission <3

Isopia the Mountain That Knows Posts: 780
Dragon's Throat Apostle atk: 6.5 | def: 10 | dam: 8.0
Mare :: Tribrid :: 18hh :: 3 - is now aging slowly HP: 90 | Buff: NUMB
Hubris :: Royal Bronze Dragon :: Shock Breath & Frost Breath & Babel :: Royal Gold Dragon :: Fire Breath Odd
#2
Isopia
         in places deep with roots entwined
i live among you, well disguised
Today was apparently a day to make amends. Earlier she had sought out Rikyn to try and explain as best she could, her reasons for attacking him. Despite the fact that those reasons were rather flimsy to the ears of anyone other than herself, she still felt obligated to offer them, especially in light of her recent dealings in the Edge. She couldn't remember her reasons really, for attacking the unicorn, but at least presumably she did in fact have some.

In this case however, her mind was utterly blank.

She had tried to articulate to herself why she had done what she did. Was she motived by greed? Not really. Isopia did not really covet anything, much less material possessions. Was she jealous? No - and especially now that all traces of Volterra had left her mind, the instances that she could remember of actually feeling anything resembling jealousy were few and far in between. Was it to see if she could? Possibly. This was the only thing that made any sort of coherent sense in her mind. But if that was the case, why had she kept it? Why had it taken a physical challenge with the Elephant King to push her own inconsistencies to the forefront of her mind?

That was really unlike her. And despite the fact that she was here to make amends for it, her conscience would always have this bizarre stain on it. A stain that she had a hard time taking responsibility for, without truly understanding her own motives.

On black wings, Isopia flew as a raven. At her side was Hubris, appearing quite large compared to her (oversized) avian body. After spending a goodish amount of time on the beach waiting for Rikyn, Isopia had meant to immediately depart these sandy shores, until a cry of surprise drew her attention.

As fate would have it, the one she was going to begin searching for was right there below her. Steeling herself for what was sure to be an incredibly awkward conversation, the raven and the dragon dropped from their place in the sky, gliding down towards where Dragomir was inspecting his newly made creation.

"Hello." The raven said, speaking with the voice of a woman. "I have something that belongs to you-" She began, as Hubris landed next to her, almost defensively (for she was in a very vulnerable position in this form, compared to the much larger stallion before her).






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@Dragomir

Dragomir Posts: 275
World's Edge Glazier atk: 6 | def: 9 | dam: 5
Stallion :: Equine :: 17" :: 7 HP: 64.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Bunnie
#3
Rolling the metal dragon through the sand, the grains kinetically cling to the new bronze, slowly falling away when gravity again steals purchase. Deciding as he does so that, whatever force caused the figurine to come to be, was likely of his own doing; he’d never heard of a magical stretch of the beach which procured trinkets, nor did he think the odds of such a thing happening directly under his hoof (as he was thinking of it) were entirely probable, either. He now simply inspected the tiny Israfel to determine how it had happened at all, his eyes hooded with deeply furrowed, thoughtful brows.

So, when a raven arrives to share the beach with him, a dragon, of all things, alighting beside her, Dragomir looks up with an expression of moderate disbelief, and bewilderment. For one, he’s never heard a raven speak, and that it has a dragon escort is peculiar, as well. That it’s all occurring on the same day as the metal anomaly makes the stallion wonder if, maybe, this stretch of the beach isn’t magical, after all.

He runs his crystalline eyes over the black bird, its glossy feathers shining in the sunlight, and the dragon defensively postured next to her. She says something about having things which belong to him, but Dragomir, looking at the thing, cannot be sure what it is, as neither the raven or the dragon have anything with them, as far as he can discern. His next, logical wonder, then, is whether or not the location of this thing is very far from here.

"Of mine?" his deep, bass voice rumbles, ears perking forward in friendly (albeit suspicious) wonder, already having forgotten the thing of which she speaks; he’d had it so short of a time period, during such a rushed portion of things, to boot, that he’d barely had time to really accept it was his before it was gone. His mind, rather than travelling to a fallen Tiger Goddess, travels back to the Edge, to his clearing, and all the things he had stored there. He supposes he had left a good bit of material and supplies there all those years ago, hadn’t he? Perhaps this bird had come across his notches of gemstones, his numerous, always useful conch shells, or his stash of carefully created rope…

He was not materialistic in many ways, despite enjoying his work with those materials far more than he enjoyed seemingly anything else. While, certainly, he had been morose for some time period about the loss of any of the things he’d let go to the river of time in his life, he’d also viewed it as some sort of penance for by-gone transgressions, or simply, as a means to become a better man through temperance of his being. What those errors had been, or exactly what lessons he had garnered, he didn’t know, but that was okay; some things, you never got to learn.

Despite his natural wariness towards peculiar, obviously magical creatures, Dragomir remains amicable towards the pair of flying beasts, putting away his bronze dragon statuette into one of his pouches (not bothering to repin the clasp for now), while he thinks, looking back down at the black bird with a smile when he’s done. If they are to be venturing somewhere, he’s going to be ready to go when the time arises.

Dragomir
@Isopia
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Any violence/magic is allowed to be used upon Dragomir at anytime, permitting it doesn't kill or seriously maim him without my permission <3

Isopia the Mountain That Knows Posts: 780
Dragon's Throat Apostle atk: 6.5 | def: 10 | dam: 8.0
Mare :: Tribrid :: 18hh :: 3 - is now aging slowly HP: 90 | Buff: NUMB
Hubris :: Royal Bronze Dragon :: Shock Breath & Frost Breath & Babel :: Royal Gold Dragon :: Fire Breath Odd
#4
Isopia
         in places deep with roots entwined
i live among you, well disguised
For a moment, the raven appears to be waiting. Isopia assumed the stallion was going to say more - after all, what good was it to merely parrot back a portion of what she had said? Not, what is it, or go on, or well why do you have it? Yes, of yours she thought with something like sarcasm colouring her mental voice, once she realized that in fact, the stallion had said all he apparently was going to.

"Yes." She agreed, forcing her mind to resume the submissive stance that she had came here with. The raven looked towards the dragon, who pulled out a seemingly shrunken bone. She reached out with her beak and took it, laying it on the sands before the stallion. "I took this many seasons ago. I believe you were sleeping. It was quite soon after the battle with the Tiger Goddess who came through the Rift. I had been the one to kill her, and then it was you who had left with her skull.." Isopia's voice drifted off and her eyes had fallen away from Dragomir's, as if retelling this part of the story to herself, rather than to him. "I followed you. I ... do not now believe that I had any particular right to the skull simply because I dealt the killing blow, nor can I think of any reason why I would have taken it...other than it was there for the taking." Even though her face was avian, the impression of concern and confusion could still be read clearly on her features as she continued to study the ground, as if searching for the reasons she was currently unable to articulate.

Then, realizing her stupidity, the raven shook its head and hopped forward a step. "Of course it wouldn't have looked like this-" She tapped  the bone, and suddenly it expanded into the skull mask that had originally been Dragomir's.

Hopping backwards, the raven heaved a sigh that sounded far too large for the black body it came from. "I return this to you now, with my apology. I do not believe in theft, and can offer you no reason why it was taken from you. There was magic in the mask, magic that was waiting for a form to take. It was I who instructed the mask to collapse into a bone when not in use. And it was I who gave the mask its most interesting aspect. When worn, it will give you ultrasonic vision for a short range. Though it can be disorienting at first, it allows you to see through to the densities of things and learn about their compositions." Though Dragomir was a crafter and would likely find this information useful, she had chosen the enchantments for entirely selfish reasons. "I used it to study to health of trees and plants, and to better design that which I created out of stone." Isopia's voice had lost its apologetic luster, and now sounded entirely academic.

"But I do realize that those choices were not mine to make. If you wish it, we can speak to the God of the Earth. Though i'm sure he will send us on some task or other to remove these enchantments, I will do those tasks without complaint, for what I did in choosing them was unfair."

"




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@Dragomir

Iso officially returns the stolen mask to Drago! She'll also use a VOTG pass to remove the enchantments if he wants :)

Abandon all hope, ye who enter here

Dragomir Posts: 275
World's Edge Glazier atk: 6 | def: 9 | dam: 5
Stallion :: Equine :: 17" :: 7 HP: 64.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Bunnie
#5
Listening the bird, not adept enough at avian expressions or tone to realize he’d annoyed her, Dragomir feels a rise of amusement move through him as he thinks of his luck with talking black birds as of late. Having only recently trailed after Ranjiri and a shouting magpie, the conversation with the raven is far less perplexing than it might be to him otherwise; each passing encounter with the peculiarities that thrived in Helovia left him less and less surprised to find another. Being naturally curious, despite having been sheltered as a child, perhaps aided his steady transition into being okay with the unexpected.

That curiosity rises as it always does, looking down at the bone that the raven offers him with mystified confusion. It was his?

He certainly didn’t remember it as such.

However, as she continues to explain, her raven’s voice oddly thoughtful and analytic for a bird, the revelation as to what the bone truly is becomes writ as surprise all across his face. It had been so long since he’d last seen it, or even thought of it, that the idea of it suddenly being returned to his possession was one he had to think over anew, on the spot. Pondering just how he feels about it all as she explains her prideful theft of the object, to begin with, he watches with interest as she proceeds to tap the bone with her beak. Rippling with some magical energy he has never before seen, the skull of the Tiger Goddess suddenly looms against the sand, exactly as he’d remembered it.

The longer she talks, the increasingly scholarly she sounds, further removing Dragomir from his initial wariness (mostly because it is good to hear crafter’s logic ring through the air, even if spoken by a raven, accompanied by a dragon). While he certainly finds the aspects of the skull she describes intriguing, he also hasn’t had the opportunity to use it, either. Surely, though, from her descriptions alone, the item sounds useful for his particular skill sets, his mind momentarily trailing to the newly formed dragon in his pouches, or the building blocks he had been learning to create within the Edge, before he’d departed Helovia the first time.

"Thank you," begins the thoughtful stallion after gathering his thoughts, looking back to the raven from the skull. Though he is unsure as to the validity of her apology (it’s rather hard to tell when it’s arriving from a bird, and a rather to the point one at that), he decides it is perhaps best to accept it. It was not often that you got much in the way of one, after all, and he knows better than most that time can truly change a person, as much as youth can make them brash, and foolish. Smiling at her, his pale, blue eyes lighting up with humility, he admits that he would not have been as noble as she just was, being the sort to avoid confrontation (and the emotions then roused) at all costs. "I’d likely have just left it to you while you slept, were our rolls reversed."

"It works on metals, as well?" he asks, his deeply voiced words as few as he can manage, as always (that terseness grating to the raven, or not), "I care little for the shifting of its size, but I admit this ‘ultrasonic vision’ merits at least some investigation before I accept or decline your offer."

[ OOC: Can you even replace just one enchantment? xD ]
Dragomir
@Isopia

Isopia the Mountain That Knows Posts: 780
Dragon's Throat Apostle atk: 6.5 | def: 10 | dam: 8.0
Mare :: Tribrid :: 18hh :: 3 - is now aging slowly HP: 90 | Buff: NUMB
Hubris :: Royal Bronze Dragon :: Shock Breath & Frost Breath & Babel :: Royal Gold Dragon :: Fire Breath Odd
#6
Isopia
         in places deep with roots entwined
i live among you, well disguised
The raven only blinked as the stallion indicated that he would have just left the item for her to find, had their roles been reversed. She wasn't entirely sure what to do with this information, for it didn't particularly matter to her what he would have done. What mattered was what she was in fact doing now. Though perhaps that was his way of expressing his approval?

"I wouldn't see why not." She answered thoughtfully. "The waves would penetrate the metal. The more you knew about the alloy in question, likely the more information the return of the waves would give you. But certainly you'd be able to know if there was something hidden in the metal, for example." Her avian shoulders shrugged. She preferred to work with more natural things, like unrefined stone.

"As for the size...I found it rather cumbersome. Wearing a skull is certainly not the most comfortable, and there is no way of turning the ultrasonic sight on or off. If you wear the helmet, you will see the world in waves and reflected values. Being able to carry it as a small bone seemed the simplest option. I had considered merely making the skull invisible, or turning the sight on or off merely with my mind, but again, actually wearing it seemed a little gruesome for an every day accessory."

Not that Isopia remembered the conversation she had with her Father about her murdered offspring, but even without that memory, the thought of going to him and asking him to help set right this skull and explaining it was because she stole it, was not something she was particularly keen on doing. Then again, she supposed she had to take responsibility for her actions (how hypocritical), and so resigned herself to what would surely be an awkward converastion, should the stallion before her decide he'd prefer to alter the enchantments she'd selected.


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@Dragomir

Yep! Iso would just use a VOTG pass and do whatever the quest is, then you could swap out one of the enchantments :D

Abandon all hope, ye who enter here

Dragomir Posts: 275
World's Edge Glazier atk: 6 | def: 9 | dam: 5
Stallion :: Equine :: 17" :: 7 HP: 64.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Bunnie
#7
That she proceeds to explain the artifact’s usages was a nice turn of events, and Dragomir was glad he had not been made to ask. While she explains, he listens carefully, his mind working over each new tidbit as it became available to him as it pertained to his life, rather than how this bird might have used it (though his lips tilt with a grin as she mentions its size being a definite issue – he can agree, what with her only being a raven).

Still, its size is of little matter to him, with his pouches, and his skill with carefully turning vine into rope, if he needs to bind the eternally leering Goddess skull to his harness, should it not fit within the bags themselves. As she can see his pouches, he doesn’t explain, and soon he finds himself so caught up in the stream of mental rambling that he forgets to reply for some time.

He also could not determine how much less gruesome a bone was than a skull; perhaps the bone did not stare at one blankly, but the bone was indecipherable as to what it might have been in a real body. Looking at it now, he found he did not care for the misplaced parts of a being, the things that he could not know from where or what it had come with a spare glance. Was it the absence of rational? Without the comfort of what to cleave to, was his heart really so quavering?

At least he could recall the Goddess’ face, stricken with rage, as her great claws swiped and maimed. What part of the body was he to recall when he looked at this? Dragomir did not know. He was not a physician, or one who tended to the dead, and neither was he a necromancer, who was, in ways, a little of both… Regardless, the painted thinker hadn’t the slightest notion what sort of bone that was on the sand, and it disconcerted him to look upon the remains of such a powerful creature as the Goddess with such skepticism.

So, he thinks of other things.

Was it her power, that allowed one to look through solid matter, or was it the power of the one who had kept it? What a curious Goddess the Tigress had been indeed, if she had shared with Dragomir the love of creation, and the things to behold in the natural world around them. Was that why she had given him the boon, though he had done little more than defend the wounded?

How curious, also, then, that this raven had a love for things, too.

What was it his mother had always said? “Life is a circle,” he wants to say, but that is too simple, and probably just his logical mind’s interpretation of his mother’s eloquent wisdom. Still, life was a circle, one which led him about on a path that never went anywhere it wasn’t supposed to, and always seeming to trail back into itself. Coming back up out of his thoughts, his blue eyes clarifying into intelligently glimmering ice tones as he again sees the raven and her dragon, not just stares upon them, Dragomir is to the point.

"I accept your offer," he rumbles, his hooves still stationary beneath him, "we can go now, or I can meet you at a location of your choosing at a later date."

While he often meanders on his own time with an aimlessness envied by bards and vagabonds alike, Dragomir attentively schedules his meetings; they were, after all, the life blood of a crafter, if he was the travelling sort, as he’d been during his days in the Edge. As a side note, assuming the raven to be a rogue (why else steal?), the stallion doesn’t suggest summoning the Earth in their shared herd land; having missed the last meeting by a week or so, Dragomir has been aware that his second Czarina is called the Mountain That Knows (courtesy of Syrena, at the borders of Helovia), but very little else of her.

So little, in fact, he could probably talk directly to her, without a single idea who he conversed with…

[ OOC: Lirl just you get ready for those heart palpitations, Drago buddy. ]

Dragomir
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Any violence/magic is allowed to be used upon Dragomir at anytime, permitting it doesn't kill or seriously maim him without my permission <3

Isopia the Mountain That Knows Posts: 780
Dragon's Throat Apostle atk: 6.5 | def: 10 | dam: 8.0
Mare :: Tribrid :: 18hh :: 3 - is now aging slowly HP: 90 | Buff: NUMB
Hubris :: Royal Bronze Dragon :: Shock Breath & Frost Breath & Babel :: Royal Gold Dragon :: Fire Breath Odd
#8
Isopia
         in places deep with roots entwined
i live among you, well disguised
"Let us go now-" Isopia answered almost instantly. She wanted to be done with this odd and dissonant time in her life. If she could rectify her past actions, she could safely put all of this madness behind her. And the sooner she began, the sooner that could happen.

But ... she had duties now. Responsibilities. Obligations. Not for the first time she bitterly wondered if her Father had promoted her as more of a curse, than an indication of his trust and faith in her. "No, no ... I've just realized.." Isopia began, spluttering out her thoughts as they came. Quickly she silenced herself, pursing her maroon lips together. "In three days time I shall meet you at the Veins, if that suits your schedule. I have ... things to attend to, first. But I shall be there."

She would fly swiftly home and check on the needs of the herd. Then again, there was Ranjiri. She other half of her rule; surely she would be there to take care of things, while Isopia tended to this? And yet ... Yet The Mountain did not want to change her mind again in front of this relative stranger. She didn't want to appear without proper judgement, despite the fact that she'd just admitted to being a thoughtless thief.

So, she would stick to her updated plan. Three days time.

Besides, that way she wouldn't have to make small talk with him on the journey to the Veins.

That was something.

"Three days." She confirmed with another nod, before lifting her small avian body off of the sands.


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@Dragomir

SORRY FOR THE MILLION YEAR WAIT. I WILL MAKE US A THREAD.

Abandon all hope, ye who enter here

Dragomir Posts: 275
World's Edge Glazier atk: 6 | def: 9 | dam: 5
Stallion :: Equine :: 17" :: 7 HP: 64.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Bunnie
#9
He moves to follow her when she seems to prepare to alight, both suddenly cutting short their movements. She does so for some thought, he assumes, while he does so because, well, she’s allowed to be the leader. He lets everyone be, if they want, the sort to take a passive role, a follower.

Had he ever been a leader, really? For the son of a great and well loved King, Dragomir certainly lacked the aptitude for guiding others, though he certainly encompassed the other aspects of such a man who would rule. Kind, intelligent, and loyal to his loves, the only things that held the painted one back from the path of his sire are his cowardice, and his lack of drive.

Where his father would have leapt into war, his cries monolithic bastions to which his men would cling, Dragomir prefers to stand in the shadow of that mechanized beast, studying the turning of its gears.

However, he is a studious knight, a good man to know, though he might not be capable of leading legions, or even a few.

Three days. He nods that he understands, and that it is suitable with his timeline, though, he too, will have to rush away and back to tell others where he is, and will be. After returning to Helovia, and Ranjiri, to hear of what had happened… It was perhaps needless to say he would watch over her more studiously now, than he had before. He wouldn’t take for granted her kindness, or her love, as he had foolishly done not so long ago.

"Three days," he repeats, nodding his head in farewell, and turning to walk away, back towards where he'd left his small family.

Dragomir
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Any violence/magic is allowed to be used upon Dragomir at anytime, permitting it doesn't kill or seriously maim him without my permission <3


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