the Rift


[OPEN] Miles to go before I sleep [questing]

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
#1

The last time Isopia had ventured to the icy north, it had been to meet with Deimos and Hotaru regarding their continued neutrality with the Hidden Falls. Much had apparently changed since then. News of the Reapers death had reached Isopia, and although she met the news with only an academic interest, she still understood that many would be grieving for the lost Lord. He had ruled for so very long, after all. Even after her own short stint as a ruler, she had to assume that at least some part of the dead warlord would be glad for the respite from duties. Even if that respite came at such a heavy cost.

Despite the multiple times the demi-goddess had arrived on these borders, she'd never actually been inside. Though she had heard of the water that pooled and was naturally warmed by the earth. Though she wanted to get her quest over with quickly and to be done with atoning for her past sins, she also wanted to do it right. The water within the Basin would surely be enough to magical purify the helmet.

Now, all she needed was permission.

Standing solemly, Isopia waited for someone to approach. Her wings were folded gently against her flanks, and her two dragons played at her feet. They tumbled and frolicked with one another, biting and snapping and melding together into a ball of gold and bronze.


Isopia is here as part of her quest! She'd like to have a bit of water from the hotsprings!

isopia

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Abandon all hope, ye who enter here

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
#2

ask no questions

She’s not entirely sure why she bothers to actually patrol. It’s not like getting in to this place other than through the main entrance is easy, and everyone seems to just know not to fly in. She’s still slightly annoyed she got that memo after she joined. In fact, she has yet to see another horse in this place with wings other than herself. In a werid way, she enjoyed being special. But she would enjoy it far more if stretching her wings didn’t get her some dirty looks.

Though of course she realizes the point of patrolling is for that tiny chance someone is actually trying to sneak in. Which she could also do more productively if she could fly. Maybe one day they would get used to it. But for now, she walks. Raven has finally gotten large enough that he’s moved to perching on her back or flying around in circles above her. Or often just judging her from some nearby tree branch. Today he’s on her back, still a small thing, but growing.

The visitor today doesn’t announce herself, but as the entrance and the metal guards come into view, she’s hard to miss. The mare is massive, with a bright red cape and wings. There is something surprisingly pleasant at seeing another pair of wings here. Not that this stranger lives here or necessarily intends to, it’s just that Weaver has nearly forgotten that other pegasi exist.

She makes her way over largely because it’s her job, but somewhat just because she’s bored and why not anyway. And in truth, she’s just a little secretly pleased to see someone more like her. Yes, she likes being special and unique. But sometimes she also likes not standing out like a sore thumb. Raven stares at the dragons that frolic on the ground, after a moment deciding to jump down and investigate from the safe vantage point of behind Weaver’s forelegs. Chicken, she thinks. Though he can’t understand the word, he gets the sentiment behind it, but does not move.

She looks the mare over briefly, admittedly impressed. The mare is stunning, rather impossible to miss, and command attention without trying. “Can I help you?” she asks, not unkindly, but without any preamble or open welcome in her voice. Weaver knows better than to trust anyone – strangers, friends – doesn’t matter. Why? Because she would not trust herself, either.

- weaver -

and you'll be told no lies

Image | Quote by Charles Dickens


@Isopia

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

Erebos Posts: 474
Aurora Basin General atk: 7.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.1hh :: Four HP: 75.5 | Buff: DANCE
Orsino :: Plain Kitsune :: Dark Illusions & Enyo :: Common Griffon :: Draining Clutch Heather
#3
All my life I’ve been searching for something
The General seemed to roam endlessly – a wandering embodiment of restlessness, an entity of maneuvering currents and wayfaring change, pulled by mercurial exploits, by wired, wild, savage endurance, savoring satisfaction for the slightest of seconds before craving again. He pushed his frame to the limits on the surface of the lake, straining muscles, unfurling, uncoiling rapacious, unrelenting movements, powering maneuver after maneuver, enduring the roll of fortitude curled through his mind (just one more), rushing at the imaginary enemies Orsino managed to conjure in his wicked haze. It was mindless repetition, slashing his sword, racing towards the heavens, launching, leaping, kicking, screaming, gnashing his teeth, barreling onwards into onslaughts, perils, treachery, and triumph, until something or someone gave in. He’d stop altogether, lower his head, and breathe, staring down into the pool, ignoring the sweat running down his neck, his shoulders, his torso, wondering when he’d be haunted again, when the torture would end, when the cycle would distort – even if he didn’t want to be free. His companions wisely said nothing. Orsino begrudged him with a mere snicker, and Enyo, too young, too determined by mediocre things, only batted at the cattails on the shore, beak trying to clutch at their furry ends.
 
They moved again while the prince walked off his exertion, tying the bounty of his exhaustion together with fumes and defiance, hurtling his own demons off into the mountainside, where they would collide together in the dark, waiting for his dreams to take hold, to shatter and ruin him again. His eyes ran along the mountain trails, searching for one more diversion, one more monumental plunge into something other than agony or anarchy, catching the slightest glow of his father’s charm within the middle of the summit. He stared, waited, wishing, then turned away, rummaging past caverns and pathways, clenching his jaw in the vivid, bewildering silence, only snatching at tethers and lines when a voice caught his attention – ears swiveling, head perked, the bestial length of his crown raised either in alarm or intrigue. The youth recognized Weaver’s outline from a distance, all blacks and ivories, sometimes clashing with the desolate landscape, sometimes molding into its finery like she’d always belonged – but it was along the borders, and so he followed after the slight of her words (didn’t think about trust, didn’t mention the bridge, the noose, snatching over his throat), protective, indulgent, curious all the more. When he arrived she’d already intercepted the newest visitor (and it seemed like so many had ducked beneath the Sentinels’ empty gazes recently, as if they’d heard the Reaper no longer lived and felt inclined to wonder, to ponder, to investigate), and his gaze (all three of them, fox, griffon, and boy), sidled directly onto the stranger – who likely wasn’t a stranger at all.
 
“Hello,” he said on a whim, like it hadn’t been an echo of a boy saluting a raven-girl, one without a name, knowing full well he’d given his own to her before. But he’d changed and altered, and she had too – he’d seen her in the midst of battles, in the middle of melees, the same as all of them, thrust into chaos and bedlam and rippling beside the masses. His head tilted, full of cobwebs, snares, and the unknown, eyes narrowing in a speculative amount, not hardened like his father’s, not softened like his mother’s – all his own, a storm and a tempest brewing, brooding, from the hours, days, and seasons that had carved him. He smiled too, winked at Weaver, bestowed all the charms and necessities borne upon his hide, his soul, pretending he wasn’t empty and immoral, reckless and abandoned. Orsino watched the dragons, Enyo stared from the General’s feet, and Erebos stood there, all strength and deliberation, afraid of being caught, snagged, and snared in the past again. “What brings you to the Basin?” 

(something never comes)
erebos
never leads to nothing—nothing satisfies
but I’m getting close

image | coding


@Isopia @Weaver

Tiamat the Ocean's Light Posts: 360
Aurora Basin Lady atk: 8 | def: 10 | dam: 3
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15.2 :: 6 years HP: 60 | Buff: NOVICE
Nimue :: Common Orca Leviathan :: Boil Reli
#4
The newly-crowned queen is not far from the entrance of the Basin when she hears the familiar voices. She is not close enough to make out their words, but assuming that they are greeting someone beneath the Sentinels (and always happy to catch up with friends if not), the Ocean’s Light shifts her direction appropriately. Carefully she steps down the steep path of the mountains, winding through pine trees and breathing in their crisp, mountain scent. Nimue follows behind her, more wary than her bondmate, and floats from one side of the mare’s hip to the other, chirping low sounds of cautious curiosity.

The metal equine heads come into view first, rising above some of the trees, though the sea maiden’s attention is drawn towards the trio that stands between the dull, plated hooves. Two are fellow members of the mountain valley—Erebos, her General, and Weaver, a soldier. Whickering softly, she comes up behind them, fitting neatly into the gap between the two warriors. Greeting them both warmly, she presses her muzzle briefly to each of their shoulders, grateful for their faithful work, before she turns her attention to their visitor.

“Hello,” Tiamat smiles, vaguely recognizing the large woman. There is no name that comes to mind, but sightings at Helovia’s battles flicker through her memories, and more recently at the beach—when they had worked blindly in service to Kaos’ request. The thought brings a sour taste to her tongue, as it always does since the reveal of that monster’s betrayal, but the Lady does her best to keep it from leaking into her expression.

Instead she tilts her head a little, looking up to the hybrid with sunlight sparkling in her gaze. “I believe we’ve met before?” There is a smile in her voice before it curls across her lips. “I’m Tiamat, Lady of the Basin,” the title still tastes foreign, and her tone lilts almost bashfully, but her posture never wavers as she stands between her warriors. From beneath her stomach, Nimue eyes the two dragons, not used to seeing such creatures. Their predatory build puts her naturally on edge, but there is a larger part of her that is curious about the strangers. Silently she stares at them with her baby blues, brushing against her bondmate’s skin.


“Speech.”
the Ocean’s Light
we run like a river
runs to the sea

image credits
please tag Tia in all replies!
magic & force are permitted.

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
#5

The first to arrive, much to Isopia's surprise, is a creature with wings. Although the mare noticed Weaver's horn as well, her wings were still quite the sight. Isopia had known of the Basin's previous racism, and was aware that it had been tempered slightly. News of Aislings promotion still hadn't reached her ears, and so while she was aware that the unicorn-only policy had been relaxed slightly, seeing it before her very eyes was not what the mare had expected.

Before she can answer the mare's question, a familiar (familiarish anyways, for Erebos had grown into a man since the last time she'd laid eyes on him), joined them. "Its been a long time." Isopia acknowledged, finding something mildly comforting about the not-so-young prince's presence. An apology for the death of his father itches on her lips, but the words and the sentiment behind them feels awkward. She knows you're supposed to offer condolences in this sort of situations, but her own daddy-issues hold the words at bay.

Luckily, Tiamat arrives, and Isopia happily takes her presence as her justification for not saying anything about Deimos.

"Yes," Isopia agrees with a nod of her quad-horned skull. "I am called the Mountain that Knows." She said for the benefit of all but Erebos, though she can't remember what name she gave him to call her as a child, and so maybe it was for his benefit too.

"The God of the Earth has given me a quest ... and to fulfill it, I'd like a small bit of water from your hotsprings, if you'll permit me." She said clearly, careful to avoid calling the God father. She was not here to bully her way inside, or use her lineage to get her way. As much as that could be avoided, anyways.




isopia

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Abandon all hope, ye who enter here

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
#6

ask no questions

She isn’t needed there. Not for long, anyway. Erebos is not far behind him, and she keeps the unspoken words from her eyes, sticking to gleaming mischief as she usually does. He winks at her, and she doesn't know how to take that either. Normally, she'd play back. Grin, curl herself around him just a bit, hint at things that they would never really do (probably). But not in some company. And not with the wall of unspoken words that keeps them apart, some understanding they haven't yet come to.

Her Lady is also welcoming, and far kinder than Weaver quite knows what to do with. The greeting is welcome, though Weaver does something of a terrible job returning it. She largely just offers a low nod, something of a bow. It’s respectful, but not necessarily affectionate. She’s never been one to be affectionate. Flirtatious? Yes. But all hugs and kisses? Not so much.

The mare with wings replies, offering a name that’s not really a name at all but one of those weird titles they seem to have in this place. As if she didn’t come from a place with titles as well, but they were different, reserved for Kings and Queens largely and taken away with the title. Though her mother would always be The Raven Queen, regardless of her position. Weaver, for her part, has always just been Weaver.

There’s nothing Weaver can do at this point beside stand here and look pretty. She can’t answer the mare’s request with two higher ranked horses standing here, so she keeps silent, rolling a shoulder as if she can’t see why that would be a problem. But she keeps her mouth shut, letting Erebos and Tiamat do their thing.

- weaver -

and you'll be told no lies

Image | Quote by Charles Dickens


@Erebos

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

Erebos Posts: 474
Aurora Basin General atk: 7.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.1hh :: Four HP: 75.5 | Buff: DANCE
Orsino :: Plain Kitsune :: Dark Illusions & Enyo :: Common Griffon :: Draining Clutch Heather
#7
All my life I’ve been searching for something
The Basin was a watchful empire, paying heed to its solo aperture, and no sooner had both patrons of the mercenary leagues (brawn and might, tenacity and spite, voracious swords and valorous hearts) clung to the outline of the familiar and strange, so too did Tiamat. The General paid his respects as she touched upon their shoulders, a lull of gentleness he’d never have, proffering a humble bow, a boyish smile, but didn’t ask her, didn’t say anything, that would lead him down to further ruin (but the queries were there, locked and loaded, all ferocity and bitterness, and because she didn’t deserve it, his voice didn’t lend their rancor into the air). Orsino almost laughed, cackling in their connection, a brim of cruelty and abhorrence funneling out between them, and his jaw clenched tightly for the smallest of seconds, swallowing down the bile, the unrest, the unholy vigor pulsing along his lungs, his heart, his soul. He wore his pretenses like a glove, familiar and charismatic, embodying all the noble appeals and allures, a grin, a smile, blurring lines snatching him away from the truth beneath the rubble and ruin.
 
But the raven-girl offered a distraction, and his mind tended to it like a moth to a flame, gesturing over the name she granted: the Mountain that Knows, and suddenly all he wanted to do was ask her what she knew, not acidic, not vindictive, but incensed and invoked by curiosity. Did she know why Kaos had sprung from beneath the Gods’ noses? Did she know how to pick herself up again even after she’d already tried and tried and tried? Did she know how to look ahead instead of backwards (because he hadn’t figured it out yet, and the world just kept mocking him over and over again; a cycle of his indulgences, mercurial and tempestuous, rising out of spite, out of irreverence)? He didn’t voice these inquiries either, it wasn’t the time nor the place, and just listened, something he still found difficult to do when the rest of the world sizzled, smoldered, simmered, and seethed against his skin, ears perked, gaze steady, head tilted to the side in a culmination of wonder and amusement. She’d been granted a quest from the God of the Earth (and then he remembered his own quest from the Sun God, when he was a child, and he’d still yet to learn all of the lessons the deity had extended, because he was young and stupid and terrifically opposed to anything but defiance, sedition, rebellion), and required their water from the hot springs. His stare slid over to the aforementioned springs in the distance, wafting and waiting, bright plumes and puffs of curling air promising soothing gestures and unlocking tightened muscles, but his magic had prevented him from ever enjoying such a leisure – however, if another needed it, he couldn’t sense a notion, a reason, for preventing them. His father would’ve pondered over threats, over warnings, over oaths and ultimatums, and even as his mind spun, he found he was empty of sentiments for turning her away.
 
“I don’t see why not,” he shrugged, the Cheshire grin still there, poised and aloft, indulgent to the Mountain raven, then swinging his skull to Tiamat, who, due to titles and crowns and mantles all too heavy for them to hold, had the final say. If the sea mare was concerned, one of them, either Weaver or himself (for both were utterly capable, and it seemed Weaver was left out in the cold, despite her swift advances on a foreign soul), could always escort the winged visitor to the corresponding springs, then ensure she was on her way. 

(something never comes)
erebos
never leads to nothing—nothing satisfies
but I’m getting close

image | coding


@Tiamat @Isopia @Weaver

Tiamat the Ocean's Light Posts: 360
Aurora Basin Lady atk: 8 | def: 10 | dam: 3
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15.2 :: 6 years HP: 60 | Buff: NOVICE
Nimue :: Common Orca Leviathan :: Boil Reli
#8
The Mountain That Knows. It is a peculiar title, but not strangely so—it implies a greatness that the large mare seems to hold in her very countenance, and Tiamat finds it fitting really. The Mountain That Knows—what do you know? She smirks humorously to herself before shaking it off, not wanting to unintentionally offend the larger woman. Satisfied by this simple introduction, the sea maiden smiles up to the winged mare, and offers a brief nod of both acknowledgement and welcome.

When the Mountain That Knows continues, explaining her reason for visiting them, the blue Lady cannot help how her expression lights up. A quest! How exciting! She has heard many things about the quests that their gods bestow upon them, but has yet to experience one for herself.

Her smile is bright and enthusiastic, though she says nothing for the short moment that Weaver and Erebos look to her, before she realizes that it is her approval that they are searching for. Still getting used to her new title and responsibilities, the sea maiden chuckles bashfully, curling her lion tail behind her. “Of course!” She nods to the Mountain That Knows. “What an interesting quest,” the curiosity that bubbles in Tiamat’s chest brings questions to her tongue—what is the quest for? Why does she need water from their hotsprings? What will it accomplish? What is she trying to learn?—not out of suspicion, but out of the pure simplicity of her excitement.

All the same, the Ocean’s Light has learned that not everyone shares her level of enthusiasm, or willingness to share, and so for the benefit of their visitor, she manages to contain her curiosity.

“Perhaps Weaver or Erebos can accompany you and show you the way? The hotsprings are deep into the other end of the Basin,” the sapphire Lady glances to the warriors on either side of her, hoping that it isn’t too much to ask of them. She does not suggest it out of distrust for the large woman, of course—Tiamat just knows that if she had to travel to one of the other herd lands, she wouldn’t be able to find anything without a fair bit of aimless wandering first.


“Speech.”
the Ocean’s Light
we run like a river
runs to the sea

image credits
@Isopia
please tag Tia in all replies!
magic & force are permitted.

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
#9

The pause before anyone answered her felt almost pregnant in the slightly chilled air. Perhaps it was because Isopia thought Weaver would answer, since the mare had been the first to arrive, and because she didn't, the silence seemed to stretch far longer than Isopia would have thought possible. Of course, it was really only a few seconds before Erebos casually agreed and Tiamat enthusiastically did.

As the Ocean's Light indicated that Isopia would need a guide, the Mountain found herself slightly caught off guard. A guide? She had thought that she could simply have the way pointed out to her, and would be able to continue her quest on her own, as she had intended to do. But with a guide surely questions of, what is the quest? and so you stole this helmet? would come up; things that Isopia didn't particularly want to talk about.

Still, Isopia didn't want to abuse the kindness already being offered to her, for she did need the water that was hidden inside of the Basin.

"Either would be fine, thank you." Isopia agreed, unsure if she would prefer Erebos or Weaver. Although she knew Erebos, she wasn't sure if that slight familiarity would encourage him to ask questions of her that she didn't want to answer. Then again, knowing nothing at all about Weaver, the mare could be a blabber mouth; she was a wild card.

Isopia's gaze roamed over the three present, assuming that one of them would make the decision for her.




isopia

Image Credits

Abandon all hope, ye who enter here

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
#10

ask no questions

Weaver was most definitely not going to answer. She’s not stupid, even if she’s a smartass half the time, and she’s not about to run around stepping on toes. That’s not how to make friends, or keep yourself in a herd. No, you nod your head and do as you are told and behave. Mostly. She’s not exactly perfect, but no one was kicking her out for playing with the hallucinogens in the garden. At least, that seemed unlikely, because she was not the only one playing with hallucinogens in the garden late at night.

Erebos gives a noncommittal answer that is pretty much the exact words she would have offered, if she had anything to say here. They are, maybe, more alike than they know. It’s not the first time this notion has crossed her mind, that there’s a lot the General and his pupil do not know about each other. They really should talk, and stop just throwing themselves into new and dangerous situations and fights. But of course, they are soldiers, dangerous is kind of what they do.

Tiamat is enthusiastic in her acceptance, and then tells Weaver or Erebos to keep the towering Mountain mare company. Weaver turns her amber eyes to Erebos at that as Isopia accepts, saying either would be fine. “Up to you, General,” she says, still playing the good little Corporal. Though she kind of means it, too. It’s up to him to decide. “Not like I have plans today, but I can entertain myself,” she gives him a wry smile, and then waits to see what he’d have her do.

- weaver -

and you'll be told no lies

Image | Quote by Charles Dickens


@Erebos

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

Erebos Posts: 474
Aurora Basin General atk: 7.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.1hh :: Four HP: 75.5 | Buff: DANCE
Orsino :: Plain Kitsune :: Dark Illusions & Enyo :: Common Griffon :: Draining Clutch Heather
#11
All my life I’ve been searching for something
He watched, waited, a presence of inquiry and stalwart, staunch interludes – his ears flicking back and forth, ignoring Orsino’s infernal statements haunting them both; gaze focused entirely on the situation at hand. Commitments and convictions passed, but then lengthened to a strange degree when not a single soldier was commanded to escort the omniscient Mountain, leaving him to the decision.
 
His father had always been direct, sometimes demanding, but usually conveying a sense of certitude, an essence of finality. Each and every choice he’d ever made had been ensconced in methodical schemes, brutal calculations, aiming and harpooning to be efficient, compliant, and chiseled into compliance, authority, and vigor. But the Ocean’s Light left it up to the prince, allowed and permitted him to reel in commands, dictate where to go, what to do – and he’d done so with his own beasts (competently, he’d hoped, at least he hadn’t led them into total disaster and ruin yet), but the situation seemed stranger than most, and no one seemed eager to set forth their own plans. His gaze swept back and forth, from one femme to the next, brow arched only a segment in brief, swift, cursory perusal (if this was some sort of feminine test, and he was about to be brutally sieged) – wondering if Weaver actually wanted to give a short tour of their mountain range, or if he’d be more suitable because he knew the once-raven (barely, just passing youths). When no one really executed or murmured anything helpful, he was left to pick up the pieces with a rogue, dashing grin, and a charitable, amiable demeanor. “I’d be happy to escort you,” and here he played in a little bow, a sweeping incline of his skull towards the direction of their hot springs, inviting her further into the glorious heights of their kingdom, ever the regal scion bursting at the seams.

(something never comes)
erebos
never leads to nothing—nothing satisfies
but I’m getting close

image | coding


@Isopia

Tiamat the Ocean's Light Posts: 360
Aurora Basin Lady atk: 8 | def: 10 | dam: 3
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15.2 :: 6 years HP: 60 | Buff: NOVICE
Nimue :: Common Orca Leviathan :: Boil Reli
#12
The Ocean’s Light grins when the large mare—the Mountain that Knows—accepts the offer of the aid of either one of the warriors. Her pearly eyes shift from the black and white mare to the dark, blue roan stallion, her attention ultimately focusing on the General when he accepts the task with all the chivalry and grace of a gentleman. “Thank you, Erebos,” the blue Lady presses her velvety muzzle once again on the young stallion’s shoulder, offering sincere gratitude and trying not to focus too much on how much the noble General reminds her of his father.

Exhaling deeply from her nose, Tiamat shakes off the weight of grief before it has time to properly settle across her shoulders. Glancing now between their large visitor and her gallant escort, the sea maiden inclines the tip of her curved horn to both of them. “Summon me if you have any questions, or need anything, I’d be happy to help,” her lips soften again with a smile, so exultant and bright and easy as it twists across her expression.

Not wanting to hold up the Mountain’s purpose for visiting them any longer than necessary, and seeing her duty here complete, the Ocean’s Light begins to back away after gesturing a goodbye to Weaver, turning her body and angling back towards the line of trees. However, after only a handful of strides, she whips around again, having forgotten something. “Oh—good luck with your quest!” She calls to the large painted mare, smiling brightly and gesturing a final farewell with a wave of her dainty head.


notes; Just stop her if you need her for anything else! <33
“Speech.”
the Ocean’s Light
we run like a river
runs to the sea

image credits
@Isopia
please tag Tia in all replies!
magic & force are permitted.

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
#13

ask no questions

She can’t say she’s surprised when her gallant General says he’ll accompany the Mountain. Not only because he seems like the knight in shining armor type, but because they seem to have some previous history. If only because Erebos didn’t introduce himself, but maybe he just hadn’t felt like introducing himself. Weaver has been known to skip names often enough, maybe others do as well. But he doesn’t seem like that type. No, he’s too princely and charming and all that nonsense to just skip introductions.

It’s vaguely tempting to follow them and spy, but she won’t, because she knows better. And she’s still trying to be on her best behavior here, make friends and not get herself kicked out and all that. So, she’ll have to settle for not being a fly on the wall, or a bird in the nearby tree, as the case may be. Tiamat is gracious as always, and Weaver waits till the Lady makes her exit, which seems like her cue.

“Peace, friends,” she says with a grin, and if she could, she would totally flash a peace sign just to be ridiculous. “Yell if you need me.” Not the Erebos would need her. She had little to offer that he could not handle without her, but it seems like the appropriate thing to say or something like that. And then she turns and makes her way after Tia, Raven taking to the air above her.

- weaver -

and you'll be told no lies

Image | Quote by Charles Dickens


@Isopia
Weaver out - so she's not awkwardly loitering around your conversation ;)

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

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
#14

In the space of seconds it had all been decided and she and Erebos were left alone. Isopia folded her wings more tightly around herself, trying to convey confidence and likely failing. Ever since her memories of Volterra had returned, and her and Zero's decision to make a baby, there was something unnerving about being in the presence of male childhood friends. Not that she and Erebos were friends but acquaintances surely...

And as the seconds stretched out, she suddenly felt stupid for remaining silent for so long.

Coughing to clear her throat she looked towards Erebos. "General?" She inquired, hoping that he would just set off in the direction that she needed to go.

Her two dragons, immensely bored with how long this quest was taking - despite the fact that it had just begun - each got up, and, after tumbling one over the other, began to run ahead. They headed for the mouth of the Basin, where the sentinel stood, ever watchful. "Will it-" She cried out, looking to Erebos with something like minor panic in her bright golden eyes. Isopia saw images of a beam of light rushing towards her dragons and burning them to a crisp. She'd heard stories of the sentinel and the things it could do, and now as her dragons raced towards it, she thought she might see it happen first hand.

@Erebos




isopia

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Abandon all hope, ye who enter here

Erebos Posts: 474
Aurora Basin General atk: 7.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.1hh :: Four HP: 75.5 | Buff: DANCE
Orsino :: Plain Kitsune :: Dark Illusions & Enyo :: Common Griffon :: Draining Clutch Heather
#15
All my life I’ve been searching for something
They were left quickly – everything aligned, in accordance, and the General nodded his head to both of the vanishing mares – before settling his eyes back upon the Mountain that Knew, watching her carefully, but not delving, not picking apart, the framework of enigmas surrounding her. He maneuvered forward, a moving blade, all motion and ease, all power and prestige, head noble and high, raised because he was born to this mountainside and meant to escort more legions of legends, queens, kings, inside its depths, only looking back when he noticed she wasn’t following. Her inquiry ceased his intentions abruptly, brow arched as she only called him by rank, gaze catching the dance of dragons, Orsino following the same lines of leathery wings and predatory eyes, as they inched closer and closer to the sentinels’ empty sockets. “No,” he proffered, smile flickering for just an instant, reminded again of dead things, of broken, withered objects, of how prosperity decayed in the glimpse of a lifetime. His lips became drawn into a simple, almost saddened line, not yearning to explain the death of so many items, artifacts, and people around their cold region, not wishing to dive into how their hearts were not all made of ice, that sometimes all he ever did was mourn. “It won’t harm them,” the prince remarked quietly, marching beneath the sacred, hollow stare of the great giants, remembering when he was a boy and how they’d seemed so massive, so depraved, so wicked and awe-inspiring, how the Engineer had tinkered on them day by day so they worked to stop the nefarious cretins hovering at their borders. Now, all they had was each other – real, moving guardians, capable of weakness, of faults, of flaws, of cracks in the schism.
 
Erebos breathed again, tried to maintain that calm, careful, composed, and charismatic air, waiting for her to move under their domineering shadow too, then riveting his stare across the vast valley, swallowing down the edges of his sorrow for pride, for conviction, for power, for potency and compassion, love of the world spread out before them. “We’ll go past the lake first,” there, the grin grew, a little more renewed. “It never freezes,” he winked, as if it were a joke – but it was truth, sincere and forthright – and then began wandering down the pathway, through the snow, through the pockets of melted rime, glancing back to her again and again to ensure she was following, the same cordial grin managing to find its spark across his features. “Where do you live now?” He inquired, making polite conversation, head tilted in interest, but not circling like a scavenger, like a vulture, like a wolfish, rapacious thing, genuinely intrigued by her journeys and crusades.

(something never comes)
erebos
never leads to nothing—nothing satisfies
but I’m getting close

image | coding


@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
#16

She was glad that he understood, and even more glad that his response dulled the momentary panic rising in her throat like bile. He seemed to be able to read her mind, to do the things she needed. He began at a brisk pace, and the things he offered by way of conversation were not awkward or off-putting, as she would have expected from others.  She tried to conjure up their first meeting, here outside the Basin, and found that she couldn't. All she remembered was that they were much smaller, and she had been easier. Easier to speak to, easier to be around. She hadn't been hardened by the world yet.

But here she was, back with Erebos again, feeling perhaps a little bit of that former ease creep into her bones.

"How is that possible?" She asked, sounding genuinely curious. "I've heard something about bodies of water...that they don't freeze completely, even if the surfaces do. Something about how the water always stays warm enough for the fish to live?" She shook her head, the facts foggy in her mind. Was it something her father had told her? Something he had done, so the fish could live? "But it's so cold here in the winter, isn't it? Why doesn't it freeze?"

As he inquired about where she lived now, her mind wanted to bristle, but her body didn't respond. She had concluded, despite her earlier fears, that it was not her fault that the Falls had been abandoned. No. That was all her Father's decision. "In the Edge again." She responded with a resigned sigh, as if having returned home after having her title as Czarina revoked was the same as a child being sent to their room without supper.

@Erebos




isopia

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Erebos Posts: 474
Aurora Basin General atk: 7.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.1hh :: Four HP: 75.5 | Buff: DANCE
Orsino :: Plain Kitsune :: Dark Illusions & Enyo :: Common Griffon :: Draining Clutch Heather
#17
All my life I’ve been searching for something
“I wish I knew,” he laughed, eyes closing briefly at the notion, then opening again to stare along the deepening valley, the rise and fall of the earth, giving thanks to the aforementioned lake and its dazzling surface as they wandered by. He had half a notion to spring across its depths and pretend it was truly chiseled – made of firm steel or hardened veneer, but it’d only be his own magic at play, allowing him to chisel past its depths without sinking below its surface, proffering him an arena to skirmish upon, or ghosts lining the edges, where his father had last crawled down to the embankment for his final breath. “Perhaps it’s simply magic,” he winked again, but bestowed his actual thoughts on the notion too, sketching along the foundation of machinations and calculations, all the scholarly wares his mother had tried to bestow him upon. “Or the God of Time’s work. It wouldn’t surprise me if we had some sort of warmth beneath it too, like our hot springs.” He shrugged, not giving it much thought thereafter, but paused, allowed the Mountain to stand there for as long as she wished, quiet and unassuming, nearly a piece of the landscape himself, born to the wild, to the rocks, to the caverns.
 
When they resumed, when she spoke of living back in the Edge, his stare widened, segmented back upon her for a riveting moment – pondered over the sigh and its attributes, if she was unhappy there, or if she merely yearned to return to the famed Hidden Falls (where he’d always wanted to go as a child, where he’d wanted to run and hunt with his friend Adelric, before he disappeared and then subsequently returned on the Basin’s doorstep; one more aspiration unfulfilled). Perhaps she missed her throne, her people, her allegiances – he could understand that. “I visited there once, with my father,” the words slipped out before he could stop them, and then he swallowed, choked down, the rest of the melancholy crawling over his senses, ignored Orsino’s hasty hiss, tried to prevent any other ounce of anguish from boiling, from brewing, from incensing and running along his form; he was strong, he was capable, he was hidden. “It seemed pleasant enough,” the General tried another smile, but it felt forced, rough around the edges, and he trudged on ahead still, running away from his losses, his stupidity, his desolation. They passed a few caves here and there – and the youth acknowledged them with a bob of his head, indicating their place in the precipice, before they ambled closer and closer to her chosen destination – the greenhouse’s glassy exterior rising from the distance. “In fact, one of your Glaziers made the greenhouse for us. Our healers were very grateful.”

(something never comes)
erebos
never leads to nothing—nothing satisfies
but I’m getting close

image | coding


@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
#18

"I almost forgot about him." She admitted with far more honesty than she usually did. But it was true. The God of the Spark rarely appeared in a way that ever impacted her. She had seen him once, when she'd visited the Veins with Roskuld, but she'd be surprised if he even knew who she was, despite the fact that she was his niece. Silently she pondered what magic he might have to make the lake stay liquid despite the cold. Her mind was so distracted she nearly lost the path she and Erebos were walking. If she had, she might have taken a particularly bad stumble down onto the rocks.

As he said that he had visited there once, she almost thought he had meant the Falls. Perhaps because a piece of her inner monologue was still silently chastising her Father for abandoning the land. But as the prince mentioned Glaziers, her thoughts snapped to the misty cliffs of the Edge, and she nodded noncommittally. "The glass can be handy." She replied with a vague shrug of her large shoulders.

Ahead, the gold and bronze dragons scurried. Babel could still not fly well, and so they both ran the length of the path, darting back and forth like playful foxes.

"We don't actually do much resource sharing, do we." Isopia noted, her voice failing to rise at the end indicating that it wasn't so much of a question, but an observation. "I mean, sometimes we do. But you'd think with all of this talk of alliances we'd actually be doing a fair amount more." Now that she wasn't a Czarina, such was not her place to say, and as a general, likely wasn't much interest to Erebos, but there it was. It was really the only thing Isopia could think to say to carry on the conversation.


@Erebos




isopia

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Erebos Posts: 474
Aurora Basin General atk: 7.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.1hh :: Four HP: 75.5 | Buff: DANCE
Orsino :: Plain Kitsune :: Dark Illusions & Enyo :: Common Griffon :: Draining Clutch Heather
#19
All my life I’ve been searching for something
At her first response, namely about their patron deity, the General couldn’t swallow down his sudden laugh, boyish, buoyant, tossed out into the air before it had a chance, an opportunity, to be tangled amidst his melancholies. “Don’t let him hear you,” he winked again, amused by the thought of their God being forgotten, attempting to picture the boisterous, emboldened divinity brought down, consigned to oblivion. “He has more impact on our world than we probably even realize.” The prince nodded, respectful to the shades of hours and electricity flowing in unknown vestiges – everything with its place, its calculations – even if at one time all he’d wanted to do was bellow at the mighty, omniscient being, shriek and yell, screech and howl, because he hadn’t done a damn thing when his father lay down near the lake. Perhaps his valor had stopped him, perhaps mercy, perhaps disappointment, but he’d taken the God’s apologies too, shoved them down along the crosshairs of his heart, knew wishes and dreams couldn’t always be tied and tethered to reality.
 
They continued forward, advancing by caverns and glaciers, by secret tents (he shared nothing of its blowing, billowing, fanning elements; some mysteries were best left to enigmatic curiosities), and his gaze followed the line of dragons coasting along the sky (always left to wonder about their power, about their wings; he’d always admired the stroke of plumage or the leathery outlines – partly because he’d never know what it meant to scan the horizon, the world, and see everything all at once), when her musing brought him out of the serene ruminations. He’d rarely given thought to political matters and trade deals – truthfully, before he’d become General he’d done little more than hasten to his own plots and schemes, searching for adventure, denouncing demons, vowing vengeance; but now he led fellow savages, and likely should’ve become more involved in diplomatic measures. He swung his head to talk directly to her, the small, charismatic smile still notched along his lips. “Not enough,” he nodded, agreeing with her, taking an opportunity to scour over the sentinels in the background, things that could’ve been repaired, altered, by a foreign soul for a price, for a trade, if it truly meant something to them. “It doesn’t surprise me though. For the longest time, herds provoked one another, instead of lending strength.” His smile grew a little deeper, recalling his mother’s stories, legends of the Reaper and the Frostheart, Psyche the DarkEmpress, their legions and leagues of brutality. “But times have changed, so perhaps the way we conduct things will too.” The prince shrugged again there, before riveting his stare upon the object she’d desired.
 
The wavy, curling plumes, warm puffs, pervaded and promised; he’d never know of their healing, soothing remedies due to his invocations (unless he wished to submerge himself upside down again; but with no magical plant to ensure his breathing, he’d prefer not to drown), but they appeared inviting, entrancing, and tempting nonetheless. “Here we are!” he stated, nodding at the hot springs, imploring her to venture towards the water.

(something never comes)
erebos
never leads to nothing—nothing satisfies
but I’m getting close

image | coding


@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
#20

"I bet all the Gods would like us to think that." The demigoddess casually remarked. Her large slender shoulders shrugged, causing her cape to billow in crimson streaks behind her. Surely it was the case that each of the Gods thought themselves to be the fulcrum of their world? Without time, nothing could happen!, the Spark would say. But without his brothers - the Sun and Earth - there would be nothing upon which anything happened. And the Moon? She would surely find some way to position herself as more important than all of them put together.

Isopia nodded in response to Erebos' characterization of the herd's histories. "Honestly I wonder if we're meant to all get along. Helovia seems to function best when we're set upon unsteady tides. Sometimes I wonder.." She looked out, large golden eyes surveying this landscape which had been hidden from her for so long. "-I wonder what the optimum state of our ecosystem actually is."

As they arrived at the hotsprings, Isopia breathed in deeply the natural-odour that they released. It was so unlike the created hot-tub that she had constructed, and she found that she rather liked this earthy scent. With a mental prompt, Hubris swerved back around, holding out the branch of fire that burned with the Diviner's flame. With a trill, the bronze dragon placed it upon the helmet, and immediately it glowed with flames that licked alongside the smooth sphere, covering it from every angle. The dragon stood back, looking to Isopia as if waiting for her to let him know when he should put it in the water.

"It must be burned first, you see." Isopia explained. "Then cleansed with your water."

@Erebos




isopia

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Abandon all hope, ye who enter here


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