the Rift


SWP :: And so it begins

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
#61
I BOW MY HEAD TO THE SETTING SUN

Iona was still in a bad mood. 

That, in itself, was saying something.  The painted mare got the impression that as soon as there was some small semblance of stability in this place, it tended to all go to shit again.  At least that was the case in the Edge.  There’d be a few seasons of blissful peacefulness and then someone would go and fuck the whole thing up again.  What seriously fouled her mood was that it was a member of her own rank who had gone and mucked it all up.  

Blood pumped hot through her veins and Iona pushed herself harder, faster, higher - taking out her anger on the skies themselves. She gritted her teeth and lavished in the burning of the muscles in her wings and her back and her chest.  But this too was ruined.  What now, she thought bitterly, when the voice of the sea-god Kisamoa ran through her ears even at this altitude. 

The painted mare shifted her course, spiraling back towards the earth since that was clearly what was now required. As the ground grew nearer, Iona realized exactly where exactly she was.  That, in itself, caused her to grow more defensive.  She landed unceremoniously and did not make her way into the depths of the group.  In her current mood, she didn’t think that wise.  Instead, she stayed back, listening quietly.  It seemed that Kisamoa had assigned them busywork - that this land needed to be cleaned before he could, you know, use his magic. 

Great. Busywork. She thought, bitterly, but at the same time she thought that, perhaps, this was exactly what she may need. An outlet. So she was willing to accept the task of cleaning for the simple fact that it was a distraction.  She just hoped that things didn’t go to shit. 

Again.

 I O N A
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Please tag IONA in all posts.
Force and magic permitted, but please check before inflicting serious injury.
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Mihtal Posts: 26
Dragon's Throat Mare atk: 5.5 | def: 8.5 | dam: 3.5
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15.0 :: 8 years HP: 56.0 | Buff: Novice
Reli
#62
mihtal
all the world is waiting for the sun.
It is likely my sub consciousness, more than anything else, which leads me to the large gathering of equines. While I am a loner by nature (introverted, quiet, and comfortably holed up in this iron shell I have long-since made my home), I am a ‘herd animal’ by instinct. Through the most primordial laws of my very being, I am drawn to the crowd, unconsciously searching for the protection and security that supposedly rests within a herd (all luxuries I have long-since convinced myself I do not need). All the same, before I realize it, I’m at the fringes of the multitude, hardly recalling the details of the journey here.

Abruptly I pull back (too abrupt, my movements are jerky and awkward—I can feel the eyes on me even as I turn my gaze towards the ground; I can feel the judgement and shame wash over me in hot, suffocating waves). My lips press tight together as I breathe through my nose. Nostrils curl and flare in tandem with my narrow sides, breaths too fast to indicate comfort, and I begin to imagine that the white clouds of my warm gasps are building a tangible wall towards the rest of the world (not unlike the walls I have erected and secured in my mind).

On unsteady legs, I shuffle backwards, sighing as the trees throw their shadows over my back. They don’t have to notice me; I can hide. It’s a long moment—or is it only a matter of seconds?—before I’m able to raise my eyes again. Thick lashes flutter before I attempt to ground myself, my eyes glancing up slowly, and the long length of my tail curls tightly around my narrow hips. From what I can see, no one shows any sign that they’ve noticed my folly; all has continued as normal, as if I hadn’t shown up in the first place. I can’t decide whether I’m more comforted or more discouraged by that simple fact.

“…And remember! Bones must be brought here!”

The deep, booming voice reaches out to snag my attention. Somehow I’m aware that this strange, oceanic beast has been speaking to us for the past little bit—but the specifics of his words are a blur, lost to the haziness of insecurities and instability. With an ear slanting uneasily to the side, I watch as some of those in the crowd either question, accept, or simply observe the task that this creature—(who is he? Is he a God of these lands? A monarch?)—has assigned to us. Unable to decide if I care enough to be unsure myself, I turn away, eyes searching through the earth for death. Silently, I slip away as gracelessly as I had come.


“Speech.”

base | color & coding
please tag Mihtal in all replies!
magic & force are permitted.

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
#63
Ru

Ru had yet to step in these lands. Regardless, she followed the strange calling. The familiar tones of Kisamoa, suspicious to the feathered mare, dragged her out from the World’s Edge. Warranting her observing eyes and still lips.

Unfortunately most had already attended. And like the gathering on the Endless Blue, the whole of Helovia appeared to gather. Feasting on the curious happenings of the sea God. She settled on the outskirts of the group, frowning. The task appeared simple enough, given the bodies and the potential for progress among them. Yet the girl remained disconcerted, not entirely convinced of Kisamoa’s intentions. Though she had such little experience with Gods, perhaps any intention from these beings warranted careful consideration.

With a warbling, wavering voice that fled her breath with a sigh – her eyes searched for familiar faces. She’d rather skip awkward introductions; work in peace, until they had all done what the God required. Though the girl couldn’t help think they were all following his directions like lost children. Eager to appease a God who did not wait for their questions, merely directed them for a purpose they could only ever blindly trust.

Catching the sight of Lyanna, she trailed behind the mare in hopes of catching up with her. At least, should anything horrible happen – she could protect her if it came to that. She wasn’t about to offer Kisamoa the opportunity to maim her only friend in the land.

image | bckg | coder
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Permision to use any violence/harm; nothing that would cause immediate death

Raeden Posts: 188
World's Edge Specter atk: 7 | def: 11 | dam: 3
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15.3hh :: 5 Years 3Months HP: 66.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Tin :: Plain Cerndyr :: Earth Spirit Dressy
#64

RAEDEN
but what is love without lust


Raeden wondered away from Edge. Her pale body slinked and slithered in the shadows of the lands. Tin remained by her side with quick strides. With a blink of an eye, the pair took off into a beautiful canter. Soft thuds of her hooves hit the ground with every stride. Cream tresses hung behind her like a banner, and they weaved in and out of the tree's and bush. The more she traveled, the greater the commotion stirred around. People were all seeming to go to one area. Curiosity took over her mind, and the pair slithered their way behind the others.  She came to a halt near the rear of the crowd, hiding and creeping from the shadows.

Tin moved closer and closer to the new god. Small legs scurried through the bodies of horses. Some he had to run under, others he could squeeze between. Finally, when he was at the head of the crowd, he was able to tell raeden what was gong on. He wants us to collect bones and bring to him.. also clean up swamp lands Raeden sighed slightly. Okay come back to me Tin, thank you With that being said the deer jumped back towards his bonded. Again weaving in and out of the many who gathered.   When Tin finally got back to her, the pair set off to the marshlands to go clean up the bones. She did not understand why he wanted them returned to him, but oh well why question Helovia now? 

"talk talk talk"


table code by tamme

Romina Posts: 33
Outcast
Filly :: Unicorn :: 15.2hh :: 9 Months
Brit
#65
the more people you love
the weaker you are

Betrayer.

Her mind rages like the waves of the Bermuda, tearing apart every passing vessel of a though that dares to enter the domain of her fury. Beautiful pumpkin eyes blaze like the flickering edges of a fire's flames, staring down upon the proceedings. Upon two figures set aside from the hoard, singled out by her intense gaze. A mammoth child with tusks to match, and a spotted femme with flames dancing along her spine.

HE LEFT ME! her mind screams in refusal of this display of kindness, the carefree touches Kiada imparts upon her brother's hide. Touches only Romina deserved to give him. Embraces her brother should never be accepting.

Months she had wandered, waiting for him to find her, because he always did. He had vowed that he always would with each time that he found her successfully. Words had never held importance, but he had proven through actions that his devotion to Romina was permanent. Unshakable.

Apparently it was not as unshakable as Romina had been led to believe. Her brother was not capable of such manipulation of her affections, she knew that, and so her predatory gaze focuses on the filly she had once called friend, called cousin. The one she had missed, the one who had not even bothered to say goodbye. A manipulator just like Romina.

Betrayal, she hisses to herself again, this time with focused intent. Her brother's mistakes will not be forgotten, his transgressions would not be forgiven. Romina scarcely hears Kisamoa's task for them, could hardly care what the once-intriguing godling says to them. The fires of her antlers flicker in the narrowed slits of her eyes, and Romina descends into the crowd to slowly hunt down her prey.

Romina
image

Weaver Posts: 149
Aurora Basin Corporal atk: 8.0 | def: 10.0 | dam: 3.0
Mare :: Hybrid :: 15.1 :: 3 years HP: 61 | Buff: Novice
Raven :: Australian Raven :: Terrorize Kyra
#66
Ask no questions, and you'll be told no lies
It was sort of like Beqanna, the way the voice called out across the land. But here, it was a voice. Clearly, loudly, a voice. In Beqanna, sometimes the voice slithered in your thoughts. Sometimes, it was a feeling that pulled you to wherever you needed to be. Sometimes, you were simply snapped up out of time and space and plopped somewhere else entirely. In the end, Weaver has no idea if this voice that calls to them now is anything like what has happened to her before. She doesn’t even entirely recall just how she ended up facing the four horsemen of the apocalypse. Everything is a haze of pain – pounding headaches and bruised ribs and finally, finally, the cool and welcome touch of death. Death had been such a pleasant thing once.

She goes, having no idea what to expect, which is just fine. Time to learn about this new place called Helovia and just what the hell goes on here. And a voice calling across what seems like a pretty vast land seems like one of those things you to go. It takes her forever and a day to find the place though, having no idea where she’s going and doing her best to find the source from the air. Often, she walks, because she enjoys the walk and all the things she might find along the way. But from up high, she figures she stands a much better chance of actually finding whatever calls them.

Thankfully, there’s a massive group of horses already gathered. It makes the whole thing pretty easy to pinpoint. Because she certainly doesn’t know what or who the creature is that everyone seems to have their attention focused on, and she never would have found him without the massive gathering around him. She lands, picking a spot far in the back, trying not to interrupt, glad to have made it in time for the directions. Not that she entirely understands those either, but the gist is obvious enough. Clean dead shit. She’s not sure what areas he’s referring too, but as the group starts to disperse, she simply follows. Figuring she can find a group to join and maybe someone can tell her a little more about what, exactly, is going on.  


ooc | i'm not sure if she's officially allowed to join since she's so new to the site/late to this party, but I really just wanted to get her out and about and learning about helovia. let me know if that's not okay - thanks!

weaver

Image | Quote by Charles Dickens

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Magic use/power playing is okay, but check before serious injury/death
Image by AmoretteRose

Graasvoel Posts: 97
World's Edge Artificier atk: 3.5 | def: 7.0 | dam: 8.0
Stallion :: Pegasus :: 17.0hh :: 6 HP: 64 | Buff: NOVICE
smitty
#67
graasvoel
Ears of stark white perk forward from amid their nest of hopelessly knotted, dark forelock strands. The messy, wooly behemoth heard his now-considered-good-friend Kis and the Korofi stallion ambled forward to heed his call for assistance. Cleaning? His pale brows rose—it was not often (if ever) that the vulture had spent time cleaning things. That was the role of servants in his father’s house. And after that… well the stallion hadn’t really set up roots long enough to need to clean.

As of now, at his home (borrowed from the since-absent Orithia) in the Edge, the snug dwelling seemed only in mild disarray (—at least, to the bachelor that he was—). Perhaps a feminine touch was warranted, but to the tawny-colored beast, it seemed clean enough! So, with an unsure shake of his shaggy coat, he nodded, “As you need, Kis,” was his gruff agreement to assist the mutated man. He turned in the direction of the ruins, seeking to clean those, first.

Naturally, his intensely hot, yellow-and-red gaze did not miss the many mares gathered round, though they lingered on one curled-ear woman in particular… where had he seen her before? His dark lips pursed in a thought, sly grin as he passed close by her on his way to the Rotunda, hoping to tempt her in that direction rather than towards the west where she was headed.
the vulture feeds while it can
until there's no trace left of man
image

@Najya for that SIDEYE and I'll have their thread up in a minute!

Please tag Graasvoel in all posts.



Zubari Posts: 52
World's Edge Colt
Colt :: Unicorn :: 17.1 :: 1Year 8 Months
Kuuma :: Melanistic African Civet :: None Dressy
#68

ZUBARI
I'm The Truth You're Afraid Of .


Hooves trotted amongst the adults hustling nd bustling around him. Golden eyes watched brightly as some people remained and others turned away. The booming voice finally reached the young one's ears. He want's us to clean.. great! Chocolate tones huffed and puffed thinking about the ideas. Why did they have to go clean up this damn mess? Golden eyes rolled and his growing skull tilted and watched. Horns sprouted towards the heavens growing larger with every season. His attitude grew with it. Maybe it was the fact that his parents were not in his life every much anymore. Zubari was off raising himself in this crazy land they call home.

Spotted legs moved around and looked to a few others. Why should he do this? His tail flicked in aggravation and annoyance. People were so eager to jump in and get all dirty for this god-like thing. Were they stupid, idiotic, uneducated creatures that are being greedy and expecting something in return? Leave it to the heathen's that inhabit this land to do anything for a chance to get something in return. That had to be the only reason they are helping; surely it was not out of the kindness of their heart. That would be too selfless of an act. Who here is actually selfless?

"talk talk talk"


table code by tammeLyrics

Please Tag Zubari in all Posts.
You may use magic and cause slight injury

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
#69
The Elephant King heeded Kis’s call—trusting his instincts and innately distrusting the strange beast. Although, truth be told, Kisamoa had done nothing untrustworthy thus far. So, with the facts as they were, the Dorobian stallion was inclined to, in fact, help the mutated sea-stallion with whatever he required.

Although clearing away bones and branches seemed like superfluous work (would not it just return?)—it was hard, laborious work that the Elephant King enjoyed. His size and strength had lent him to back-breaking tasks from a young age. And the stallion had embraced it. It was an easy way to silence the mind: tiring it out so that it couldn’t think or question or ponder awful losses. So, with shoulders squared, he was about to turn towards the Rotunda and begin clearing—

But his navy eyes were drawn by Rexanna and Nyx. His gaze narrowed in concern, closely watching the two mares that had exchanged such vitriolic words on the beach after the last encounter with Kisamoa. But, from a distance, it seemed their body language was not hostile; if anything it looked…contrite? And the had King spotted Alysanne, whom he desperately needed to speak with.

So, with continual glances towards the mares, he started towards the Devoted while searching for bones.
Tembovu
The Elephant King
image | code by Avis

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Esinakh Posts: 48
Outcast atk: 4.5 | def: 7 | dam: 6.5
Mare :: Hybrid :: 15.2hh :: 2 HP: 66.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Sachi :: Plain Rougarou :: Water & Flame smitty
#70
esinakh
The calf shuffled forward, white-rimmed ear swiveling around in a quick, staccato fashion. What were they gathering for, now? Esi was not sure, but she was sure that she was glad this time they gathered inland, away from the sea and sand. Even the crumbling ruins were a welcome sight if it meant escaping the shore… Well, perhaps not entirely welcome, as her jittery gaze repeatedly and anxiously returned to the crumbling pillar’s uneven surfaces.

But then Kis began to speak— Clean things? Esi was good at that. Clean bones? Her movements faltered, pale eyes widening as they darted back towards the strangely assembled man. Kisamoa had never settled well in the calf’s mind—he was too odd. Too asymmetrical. Too… wrong to fit nicely in the calf’s strangely structured, rigid mind.

This could be messy. Dirty. So the filly hesitated, unsure if she could help Kis in his task. Her wings stretched instinctively—now that she knew how to fly, she sought an escape from all this confusion and worry. Anxiously, she watched brother calf frolic off with other foals. Could she do that? Could she join in, haphazardly? A soft, uncertain snort pushed out of her barred muzzle. She didn’t know.

Please tag Esinakh.

Larue Posts: 45
Absent Abyss
Filly :: Unicorn :: 13 hh :: 1
smitty
#71
Lemon-freckled ears swivel to and fro, candied teal eyes wide and watchful as the lemon drop waited to see what would happen with this particular Kis appearance. Though the filly had no strong feelings as to whether or not she trusted the man (being an inherently untrustworthy prankster, herself, she wasn’t exactly sold on the idea of ‘trustworthiness’ —more like ‘victim’ or ‘fellow prankster’). The filly did, however, have strong feelings that she liked whenever Kis showed up. Not because she liked him, but because she liked all the ruckus he caused whenever he appeared.

So, eternally interested in any and all brouhaha, the lemon drop was there. Her head cocked slightly as he said he request—cleaning? The filly wasn’t keen on cleaning things… She usually let mom clean up their cave in the Basin. Moms were good at those sorts of things. Fillies (especially mischievous ones) most certainly were not.

But Larue was not one to miss out on happenings. So, on her tiny lemony legs, she start out to help with this ‘cleaning’ business.
Larue
sugar, spice, not everything nice
image


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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
#72
AITHNIEL
Aithniel still wasn't sure about this asshole, and she grit her teeth together, sighing. He was trying to clean up this rotted, festering cesspool of an area, so could he really be all that bad? I mean honestly, who even was he? Where did he come from? Why was he here and what did he want? She looked around the Rotunda and sighed, thinking that she may as well participate.

With a roll of her silver eyes, she stalked off in the direction of a few others.

Why was there a huge pit in her stomach? Zera reminded her in sad colors and coos that she was just damaged and that was why she couldn't trust anyone or anything. Aithniel knew that he was right, and that's why she pressed onward. There wasn't a point in trying to rage against her own insecurities - especially since she projected them straight onto this god-like being.

Image Credit

But burn down our home
I won't leave alive


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Eleanor Posts: 15
Outcast
Filly :: Hybrid :: 16.0 :: 6 months
Miranda :: Plain Black Dragon :: Fire Breath & Toxic Breath Tamme
#73
City made of thin glass
Smoldering in pitch black

Ellie stood by Amalrik while the water god was speaking, and she beamed happily. He was such a kind, good-hearted creature to want to help Helovia. The girl had never seen the gods her mother spoke of, but this god was here, now and improving their lives directly. How could she not love him?

The girl hung on every word he spoke as the sea breeze blew around her dark and pink hair. Even Miranda seemed interested, and neither of them noticed Amalrik's sour attitude continue to grow.

The second the water god sent them to go clean, she was eager to run. Ellie wanted to be the first one there cleaning, but she was still just a child. She'd have to settle for doing her best once they arrived. Hopefully Amalrik wouldn't be a butthead and leave everything for her to do alone.

Where was he anyway?




Aquila Posts: 95
Outcast atk: 5 | def: 9 | dam: 5.5
Mare :: Hybrid :: 16.2 :: 6 HP: 62 | Buff: NOVICE
Craonos :: Common Narwhal Leviathan :: Boil smitty
#74
the tempest of an unrelenting sea
The fierce mare heeded Kis’s call. Of course she would. There, truthfully, was little the Akvian would not do for the strange, Earth-god brethren. Likely because he was so close to the Rift she had left—and, because, her chest tightened and her barrel lifted every time her too-large and unblinking eyes saw his oddly-fitted piecemeal face.

A dark, ominous glare was given to all those beautiful, light-of-frame mares that tittered around Kisamoa. She could not help the slight growl in her throat and showing of her sharp-tipped teeth by barely-peeling-back lips. Never, before, had the sea mare so strongly felt the heavy weight of muscle on her athletic body; nor the sharp fins of her face or the bulky ridges on her neck. She was so far removed from any semblance of ‘beauty’ in this land. Nor had she been a vision in Akvo. But that had never mattered.

Until now.

But now—now she could show her worth to Kis another way. She could remove more bones than any other mare. So, with a low avowal, “I will help you, Kis,” she slipped towards the sea.

Please tag Aquila in all posts.

Kianzo Posts: 95
World's Edge Sleuth
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.3 hh :: 2
Keusi :: Striped Hyena :: Terrorize smitty
#75
The dark prince hovered at the Edges of the large gathering that had amassed for Kis’s proclamation. Sharp eyes flickering around until they landed on sister.

And when they landed, they glared.

Her bright blue eyes gazed up at the beastly boy’s, griffins dancing along her back as she spoke. Ash hovered in longing rage around his chest, eyes darkening and narrowed as Kiada threw an inviting, hopeful look over her shoulder towards the monstrous colt. Black-rimmed ears tilt back, entirely ignoring Kis, now, as his entire world was consumed by his sister’s flirtations with another.

A silent snarl curled his lips, just as a not-so-silent snarl ripped from Keusi’s throat. Her bone-crushing jaws, now so much more threatening as she shed her pup-hood, held many sharp, pearly white teeth. Unlike other canids of Helovia, these teeth were thicker, blockier, meant for crushing and ripping more than sawing. And, with her bonded’s spite flowing through her, she was more than willing to demonstrate this fact.
kianzo&keusi
You must know darkness
before you can know light


@Kiada

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Aisling the Fae Posts: 112
Absent Abyss atk: 5.5 | def: 9.0 | dam: 4.5
Mare :: Equine :: 13.1 :: 6 :: Birdsong HP: 63 | Buff: NOVICE
Sorcha :: Common Green Dragon :: Fire Breath Laine
#76
 
Aisling sat in the shadows at the edges of the gathering, an odd place for the spritely little mare to be indeed. Even in her role of Thief to the Lady of the Basin, Aisling concealed herself rarely and lurked hardly ever, but there was something, something in her bones that held her fast to the shadows. The winter had been long, and all through those many months there had been a trembling insider of her: a twitch and a shiver that tickled its way up her spine too often as of late. It came again, in the presence of Kisamoa. 

He had summoned them and spoke again to a gathered crowd and Aisling’s storm-grey eyes scrutinized the strange being with a xenophobic air uncertainty. Different. Unsettling. Unnatural. "Friends! The time has come!” he said, as though about to unveil some great new feat and  the little enchantress shifted uncomfortably. He had created a land bridge, and she had thought of sea sprites, but he made no further mischief. He had lured some into the ocean’s depths, and she had thought of selkies, but he had drowned none…

Now he spoke of cleaning, of clearing, that shouldn’t be cause for alarm, and yet…

“…collect as many bones as we can…
…a plan for these bones as well…
…And remember! Bones must be brought here…”


A shiver ran down the thief’s spine again, and at her feet, the feathered dragon Sorcha felt the tremor through their bond. Emerald eyes, that had never once looked upon anything in anger, narrowed in Kisamoa’s direction and the dragon hissed like an angry cat before scampering up her mistress’s leg and curling defensively along her withers. 

This isn’t right…something’s not right. You don’t disturb bones where they lay. Aisling glanced around the gathering, horses in all directions were moving off to follow instructions, and-her heart stuttered. Larue was here, and Johnny, and others from the Basin but there was no sign of her Lady. The little enchantress kicked into motion, moving with the tide of horses and picking her way through them until the could nip at her daughter’s shoulder. 

"Larue, dul abhaile agus mura bhfanann sibh anseo. Dul anois!" Her tone brokered no nonsense and her eyes were already scanning to see which direction her mate had wandered off to.

---------

Translations
Larue, dul abhaile agus mura bhfanann sibh anseo. Dul anois. - Larue, go home, do not stay in this place. Go now!

Mentions @Larue
Aisling
i know of witches who whistle at different pitches
calling things that don't have names
[now come the days of the dreamer and they are filled with wonder and light ]
:: permission given for use of magic and force :: please tag Aisling in all posts ::


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