a thorn among the petals

the Rift

[PRIVATE] a thorn among the petals

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

02-16-2017, 10:44 AM

sweet bitter words, unlike nothing I have heard:

So, while I’m frolicking about the meadow with Tiamat, inside, I’m doing everything I can to make it stop. Duir, however, has other plans, occasionally trying to again brush the mare with the stone, to keep the grasp of the magic tightly wound about my will, and so no matter how I bid my hooves to stop, or my mouth to shut it, I’m trapped inside a box, inside myself.

Brushing Nimue with my nose in passing as she bobs about in praise of my handwork, the odd sensation of her slick skin would normally send a shiver through my body, but that natural repulsion towards the strange is repressed, when one is under the throws of Tiamat, apparently. The acceptance itself is what is strange, my consciousness finding, for the first time, that it could experience weird and find delight, rather than offense. The smile playing across my face is counterintuitive to the mental scowl which faces this affront to my rational, and though it does feel sort of nice to hear and see Tiamat so happy, especially due to things I’m doing, I can’t help but wonder what sort of lasting damage this is going to do to my reputation.

Turning to follow her traipsing step, I move after her several paces, my lips still curved into a bright, cheerful smile. When she comes back around, her bundle of blooms in tow, the idiot I’ve become perks up at the sight of the bouquet, while inside, I recoil.

No! I mentally plead with myself, run, move, anything!

Alas, soon the flowers are fastened in my tangled mane, their bright colors are in stark contrast to my dark hair. I’m quickly becoming to upset with the entirely situation to really appreciate her closeness, or how pleased she is with me, anymore, and, infuriatingly, the more frustrated I become, the easier it is for the magic to dictate my body on what to do.

So, when Tiamat cheerfully exclaims as to the profound beauty of some nearby blossoms, and beckons to me with her chiming giggles and impish glances, I instantaneously move along with her, a clownish smile plastered on my face. Looking ahead, I see the tree she’s talking about, which, I guess, is a pretty nice tree. The idiot I currently am forced into the role of, however, is utterly delighted at the presence of the bloom laden boughs.

"Wow! They are really colorful, huh?" I add, trotting beneath its branches, a few stray petals drifting downwards in the subtle breeze. Plucking a bundle, I hand it to Duir, who’s grinning like a loon, entirely too amused with himself to argue about holding the bough, too much. Besides, he’s very recently applied more essence of Tiamat to the peculiar rock – there is time for him to hold a branch, so I can cleanly break the small blooms away.

Turning towards Tiamat with each delicately plucked flower, she is soon to be bedecked in dozens of the pretty flowers, neatly arranged in her sea-hued mane.

sing along, mockingbird; you don't affect me.

Image by TheArtlex@DA
@Tiamat