the Rift


Here Comes a Thought

Enyo Posts: 27
Outcast
Mare :: Unicorn :: 14hh :: 2
Onei :: Gyrfalcon :: None M.E.
#1

A white shadow flies above; another follows behind.

The night is cooler than you might expect, the moon a nice pale shadow to bathe you in a soothing light. You remember this place, vaguely; it’s been some time since you’ve spirited yourself through these pines. The scent lingers in your memory, haunting. Is it sentimental? Somewhat.

You’re not terribly interested, in all honesty. You know that these woods are supposed to be scary at night, but the idea fails to alarm you. Is it wise to be here so alone? It is necessary; you place a faint look of alarm upon your eyes; your brow furrows with delicate worry. At the very least, you shall look the part of frightened.

It’s by design that you must appear distressed--you must appear saveable.

Sister is here, somewhere. And so is mother and all the little harlot-children she bore. You wonder if you should feel excited to see this piece of your family. The thought of sister tugs like a lodestone upon your heart, but that is all the feeling you have to spare (you’re not entirely sure how you should feel about mother; you only know that you don’t.) You consider abandoning these dull, moonlit pines. The thought dies a thought. You continue to wander with delicate steps, delicate lips, delicate presence in the air--a spectre, a phantom of diamonds and silk, fragile and so, so saveable.

Someone (someone, someone) come save her….please?

"talk talk talk"


day1953@pbase


[OW owowo OW ow ow OWOW OW so rusty but YAY SHE'S HOME :D]
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Please tag Enyo in all posts!
All force is permitted against her!

Astarot Posts: 81
Dragon's Throat Sun Physician atk: 5.5 | def: 9.0 | dam: 5.5
Stallion :: Equine :: 17.1 :: 2 (Birdsong) HP: 66.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Zafír :: Common Blue Dragon :: Frost Breath Pare
#2
 
The young healer found himself wondering the Threshold. His life had been flipped on it's head with the last herd meeting. It had come as a shock when his father had announced him as a healer. He still couldn't figure out how his massive father had known he wanted to follow a more gentle life. He had feared his father would be disappointing in his son, instead he had read his mind and promoted him. Now he was on a mission to make him proud with the rank he had desired so much.

The moon light filtered through the trees ans the stallion and dragon searched for others. She cooed softly from his back enjoying the cool night air and the trip. The blue wasn't interested in finding other much less taking them home, she wouldn't deny her bonded in his task. Her hunger mounted as they walked and she took wing. He knew she would be back once her stomach was full of some innocent night creature. Killing didn't bother the young stud, especially when it came down to filling your belly. Lucky for him he had never had to hunt for his dragon. She had been born with claws and fangs; capable of taking her own prey.

He smiled absentmindedly as he wondered through the forest that welcomed strangers. A scent drifted through the air catching his attention; a mare. Ears pricked as he paused to gauge where the smell came from. Pinpointing the scent he smiled warmly and trotted towards the source. A stunningly alabaster mare and a white bird were making their own way through the forest. A warm whinny sounded from his lips as he approached.

Once he was close enough the stallion spoke in his bass voice, "Hello Miss, my name is Astarot." He paused to glance over her tiny frame. She didn't look to be very young, just dainty. She was pretty, but much to short for his liking. "Welcome to Helovia! I'm an Alchemist from the Dragon's Throat." He smiled brightly his long tail swishing behind him lazily. "My dragon, Zafir, is flying around here somewhere and will probably show up at some point." He dipped his head respectfully and fell silent scarlet and blue eyes watching her.
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Talk
Words;; 376
OOC/Tags;; @Enyo
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Oizys Posts: 134
Aurora Basin Soldier atk: 7.0 | def: 8.5 | dam: 6.5
Mare :: Hybrid :: 17hh :: 2 HP: 73.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Ker :: Philippine Eagle :: Curse Snow
#3
NO WEALTH, NO LAND, NO SILVER, NO GOLD
NOTHING SATISFIES ME BUT YOUR SOUL

When she smells Sister, there is no force in heaven or hell that will keep her away.

Running is so much easier now The Thing is gone from her chest, and the young mare's long stride hauls her easily through the Threshold like a rampaging elephant. Her gallop is a heavy, ungainly one, her hooves hammering out a drumbeat on the sun-scorched ground, whilst the deliciously cool night air does not prevent her stony flesh from breaking out in a sweat that causes her to glimmer like a dying star. Ker flies ahead, her eyes trained forwards, tilting and twisting as she pelts through the trees. It's tempting for Oizys to transform into her companion and fly alongside her, but she resists - she wants to see her sister with her own eyes, not ones stolen by her magic.

Gargoyle and raptor arrive like a stampede, thundering to a halt in front of Sister in a haze of strewn mud and flying foam. "En...yo," she gasps out, her sides heaving as she hauls blessed breath into her screaming lungs. Her stamina is improving day on day as she spars and trains, but two years' worth of treading on eggshells because of The Thing means that she has missed out on valuable endurance building during her childhood. She tries not to picture Father's face if he knew his daughter had harboured such a hideous illness throughout her formative years, and snaps her mind away from him as quickly as she can.

Once her breathing has composed itself and she can see through the black dots in her vision, the soldier can gaze upon her twin for the first time in years. It is apparent that Enyo received the lion's share of beauty; her pale fur, small build and ability to look demure immediately set her aside from her brutish, scarred, stone-pelted sister. The difference in their sizes could not be more remarkable, however, and as Oizys leans forwards to try and embrace the other mare in a quite uncharacteristic show of sisterly affection, she wonders what Father would think of a child so petite. "You're back." The voice is more composed now that she's caught her breath. "You will not believe how much shit has gone down."

Her gut clenches as she realises that she'll need to deliver news of Mother's death. She frowns, worried, before noticing for the first time that they are not alone. There is a young stallion, the one who Oizys moved trees with, and Ker eyeballs him from her perch on her bonded's massive shoulders. "I live in the Basin now. Will you come there?" There's no time for preamble - Astarot may offer his home, too, and the gargoyle half-fears that Enyo will accept.

image credits


@Enyo

[ the gargoyle queen ]
OIZYS IS ALWAYS RATED M FOR STRONG LANGAUGE IN HER POSTS




Öde Posts: 145
Aurora Basin Disciple atk: 5 | def: 10 | dam: 5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17 hh :: 4.5 HP: 64.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Blu
#4


He wanders through the woods like a man without a mission. His pace is casual, his movements almost, delayed, though not slow, just purposeless and so inefficient. Yet Öde is not lost in any directional or carefree sense. He moves with as much intent in the way that he does not. His stroll is with motive, to feign a nonchalance that beguiles the lowering of defenses.

You see, Öde is hunting.

He may nutritionally feed on plant matter, but a meal alone is not what you subsist on. The blood-marked stallion truly thrives when he has consumed some thimble-fulls of power, which are best drank from extracting misfortune and weakness from others. If he himself cannot rise up on any given day, then better to force others down, subject them to submission.

It's in this manner that Öde comes upon the little gathering, the heft of his manhood swaying in the leather sling which supports it between his legs. Similar straps slip up his flanks, fastened to the wolf pelt he bears across his back. The red of his gaze flicks first across the other stallion, as cheerful as his dusty coat, then to the familiar warrior of his herd. She's wrapped about the pale, fragile girl like some sort of snake, except even a python would have more grace than the brutish girl who lacks any touch of feminism. Meanwhile the newcomer, oddly accosted by the golem mare, is pleasantly refined and decorous. To her, Öde offers a toothy smile, and its only with practice that it doesn't resemble one a wolf might offer.

"Welcome, have you any need for something? I might be able to help." He declines the normal dip of the head, preferring instead to hold himself as tall and erect as possible, a necessity here given the giants the pale flower has gathered. Still, the edges of his eyes are wrinkled with a warm invitation, and his head is tilted just so that the line of his horn is not threatening.


THE GLASS IS HALF EMPTY
Tag me only if starting a new thread.
Magic or force permitted any time, including death - no decapitating.
Be aware active magic doesn't work in his vicinity due to his magic!


62.5/62.5 HP
Helovia Hard Mode

Enyo Posts: 27
Outcast
Mare :: Unicorn :: 14hh :: 2
Onei :: Gyrfalcon :: None M.E.
#5


It pays to be small and scintillating; you didn’t doubt for one second you’d be left alone for long, did you? The first one comes as a tower of sand and odd markings; you peer up at him, as tall as he is, red-eyed and smelling of newly budded man as he smiles proper and gentle at you. You return his grin, automatic, sprinkling the action with gentle things; the curve is silken, and the terror in your eyes eases just so. He speaks to you and you listen, and your eyes light up with interest even as you catalog the contents:

He is Astarot.
He is an Alchemist (?).
He is from the Dragon’s Throat. (Papa’s herd Papa’s herd Papa’s herd--)
His dragon is named Zafir. (You don’t care.)

You continue to smile up at him, maintaining a pleasant gaze, feeling stupid for it and wondering how long you must keep up the charade of interest. He has not said something interesting at all, not yet. But you know the script and you know that it is your turn to introduce yourself. “I am Enyo,” you say quietly, and a voice you pride for velvet, “and my own little Oneii flies above us as well, right now. We do not like to be caught unawares by approaching danger, you see. We enjoy--”

You were on the precipice of lying; this is a stranger who did not know your black pelt, who has not yet seen your devilish hidden in the thick white folds of your mane. You were going to lie. You were going feign any and all knowledge of this place, and though he may be ugly, he was large nevertheless and offered an innocent route deeper into the mainland. You were going to follow, as disinterested as you were, as bored as you were with the idea of a flaming hot desert.

But all that changes in the charging, sweaty, destructive mass of gray that you catch even before she crashes through the underbrush so suddenly. You gasp, and it’s an accident, because the scent of Sister had only come to you seconds before, and you had not had the chance to properly process it. The body that possesses such a scent is huge; your head cranes upward in a familiar way, as though you were looking into Papa’s very eyes at that moment. But these eyes are blue, white-blue and scarred, and they look upon you with a quaver that Papa never, ever possessed. And then the body snatches you, wraps you in a fold of hot sinew and a mass of unkempt fur, and the Papa’s illusion finally falls to the ground. He does not show affection like this; desperate and candid, you’re stripped from a persona for just a second, lulled by how completely you’ve been consumed by Sister’s embrace. No one can see the way your face breaks, if ever so briefly.

You're back.

“O…yes,” you breathe, and there is a fury that sparks in your chest, at the tear that so nearly perches upon your lid. After so much time training yourself, after so much exercise with Papa--and yet, somehow, emotion is still somehow powerful enough to battle your will, how dare you! There are crucial moments spent trying to reel it in; you love Sister, you’re so excited to see her, but this breach of form is completely and totally unacceptable.

The moments spent grappling with the tear in your eye removes you from some of Sister’s words; when you return to earth, it is only to catch:

I live in the Basin now.

Oh no.
Oh no no no no no.

You’re able to control the impulse to stiffen against her, but you pull away from her just the same, gently disengaging from her affection to look her in the eye. Your own expression is blank, clean of the sudden feeling of trepidation that begins to squirm in your belly. “Ah,” you respond. It’s all you can marshal; it’s all you can say at present regardless, with stranger Astarot so close, listening to your exchange. You’re not sure how to communicate your sudden misgivings; you do not sure if Papa would’ve wanted her to leave.

There is not much time to consider Sister’s actions; another comes, this one just as large as the rest of them, and you’re swept into duty and the fading golden sense of pleasure at being so surrounded by brutes. You feel safe.

“Hello,” you say pleasantly to a dark, blood-stained stranger, who offers nothing but his own curiosity and wish to help (it pains you to abandon Sister so, but duty calls, and you must answer). You smile at him, mousy and sweet, annoyed by his forbearance (you want to know about him). You respond with, “Actually, I’ve just met my sister here and another who has already offered their assistance--but it is nice to meet new people in this--”

Oh.

Your eye had been shifting across his body, noting his (lack of) markings for future reference--but of course, being the greedy little magpie you are, your gaze quickly latched onto the material presence of his person, which, naturally, led your eye to curve with the line of leather that strapped across his side, following its trail down to--

Oh my.

You blink rapidly; it is the first newly interesting thing you have seen since you entered these foul woods. Sister of course is interesting in her bigness, in her warmth and familiar rough presence as Sister; but this is another thing altogether, something you’ve never even deigned to imagine would be necessary, let alone exist; but here is a fellow who has chosen to wear a garment to cradle his nether regions.

Questions stack in you mind; you’re rendered speechless. “...oh,” is all you can say, lost for the moment.

"talk talk talk"


day1953@pbase


@Astarot
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Pixel by Sourful!


Please tag Enyo in all posts!
All force is permitted against her!

Astarot Posts: 81
Dragon's Throat Sun Physician atk: 5.5 | def: 9.0 | dam: 5.5
Stallion :: Equine :: 17.1 :: 2 (Birdsong) HP: 66.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Zafír :: Common Blue Dragon :: Frost Breath Pare
#6
 
Astarot watches the young tiny mare as she grins up at him. He can't help but study just how small she really is. Testosterone floods his body and he fights a smile as an image of himself trying to mount such a petite creature. It was strange for him to have such a thought, but he was growing and his body was changing. The young man listened to her words, and stored her name away for later use. He glances up at the raptor wondering how Zafir would feel about a bird. She had never come face to face with a companion in the shape of her prey. She liked a challenge when it came to food and predator birds were a favorite.

His eyes turned back to the snowy mare. Her words made sense, but her speech seemed rehearsed.His brow creased slightly, before she could continue her words and confirm his ideas a sound caught their attention. A familiar form hurtled through the woods. Foam coated her sides along with all kinds of other debris. He tensed ready to step in if this wasn't a friendly reunion. Sensing his mood Zafir let out a shriek and raced back to her equine. She threw scaly form down on his broad bone marked back head swaying fangs bared slightly.

To their relive Oizy embraced the dainty mare dwarfing her like he had imagined himself doing; only not the way he had envisioned. Quietly the stud steps back giving the pair some room. He turns his eyes back to the falcon above them trying to give them space without just leaving; that would be rude. When a lull takes hold he shifts his attention back to the mares. He notices the steely girl's eyes on him and he nods softly. Zafir watches the bird watching them. Her chest swells and she ruffles her wings, daring the feathery meal to try something. She was a dragon, the mightiest predator in the sky and she was not afraid to reassure it of that.

Oizy offers her home to the girl and he smiles softly. He wouldn't do that to the mare, if they were such good friends, it would have been worthless anyway. Before he can bow out another appears. This one sets his teeth on edge. Zafir's long neck whipped around as a hiss slipped from her lips. He had a strange leather thing that was holding his manhood. His brows gathered and something dark flashed over his features. He watches the stallion stand tall without bowing his head. Slowly, hoping not to draw attention to himself, he stands at his full height. He takes pride in being taller than the other male.

'Guess I did get something from Apa.' Zafir watches the stallion closely the bird all but forgotten. He seemed the larger threat to them. Frosty mist puffed from her muzzle as she bared her fangs at him. They could both see he was trying not to appear threatening, but something seemed off about him. Astarot realize he hadn't given his name, and he decided not to press for it. Giving a name, even a fake one was a sign of character. In his mind, if one wasn't offered the other could not be trusted. It seemed like they were hiding something when they didn't give any information.
---------------------------------------------------
Talk
Words;; 557
OOC/Tags;; @Oizy
[Image: silver_dreamer_mist_trans_tag_by_are_we_...a8y6wy.png]

Oizys Posts: 134
Aurora Basin Soldier atk: 7.0 | def: 8.5 | dam: 6.5
Mare :: Hybrid :: 17hh :: 2 HP: 73.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Ker :: Philippine Eagle :: Curse Snow
#7
NO WEALTH, NO LAND, NO SILVER, NO GOLD
NOTHING SATISFIES ME BUT YOUR SOUL

They are soon joined by another, one of the Basin. Oizys does not know his name or position, but he is one of them and thus not a threat to the precious Sister she entwines herself around. Her stony gaze travels to the odd contraption around his body, wondering at its purpose - even her filthy mind couldn't possibly contemplate the truth. Astarot stands tall in the face of this newcomer, and Oizys can almost smell the testosterone in the air. Men, she disgustedly muses to herself.

Enyo untangles herself, leaving the grey's flesh feeling empty where Sister had previously touched it. It's odd, isn't it, how one can go months knowing a piece of them is missing, but that it isn't until they rediscover that piece that they begin to wonder how the hell they coped without it for so long? She's missed Sister, of course she has, as much as she misses Father, as much as she misses Mother, but it had been more like an itch in the back of her mind, something that haunted her dreams and added colour to her nightmares. She'd fretted for Enyo's wellbeing, but she wouldn't say she'd been overly anxious that her twin had met some ghastly fate in her absence - she and Enyo are both daughters of the Basilisk, and there is no creature on the planet with the strength to down one of them. Now she's clapped eyes upon Sister, though, it seems unthinkable that she ever went so many years without being frantic, as though a limb had been severed and flung carelessly aside.

Oh. The soft word from Sister's mouth jerks the gargoyle back to the present, and she looks towards her diminutive sibling with a question in her eyes. She follows the pale one's gaze towards the black Basin stallion, towards that odd contraption that she'd passed over so easily before, then down further... "Oh," she mirrors, her eyes almost boggling out of her head. Well, jesus. That's....something. Swallowing uncertainly, suddenly embarrassed despite her usually infallible attitude towards anything sexual, the mare finds herself darting her gaze around and directing it at anything but the giant-ass beast-dong that swings around in that feat of engineering around the stallion's waist.

Is the sight of such a thing (or, at least, its covering, like a Christmas present all wrapped up) supposed to make her feel all...warm? Is that natural? Because surely nature cannot be so rude as to snatch the senses of the Basilisk's firstborn twins, lowering them to base instinct instead of the steel-bred hell-creatures that they truly are? She swallows again, looking firmly back to Enyo (Ker, unhelpfully, is bent almost double to peer beneath Astarot's stomach to see whether he's got one of those frightful things as well). "Basin," she says, not quite sure why she's said it - she's still all of a dither thinking of that monstrous appendage tucked away inside its leather holster. "Will you come back to the Basin with me? Well...us." She glances back to the unicorn, keeping her eyes firmly on his face and not anywhere south. Once she gets Sister away from here and into privacy, they can talk. She can explain why she'd gone against Father's wishes and moved to the Basin, she can talk about Kaos, about Mother...and maybe about leather-wrapped dicks, too.

image credits

[ the gargoyle queen ]
OIZYS IS ALWAYS RATED M FOR STRONG LANGAUGE IN HER POSTS




Öde Posts: 145
Aurora Basin Disciple atk: 5 | def: 10 | dam: 5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17 hh :: 4.5 HP: 64.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Blu
#8


She's elegant, even in her attempt to dismiss him, and he is drawn towards this properness with a craving that isn't often satisfied. He can't quite put his horn on why, but he has the irresistible desire to tarnish her, to see the paleness of her coat decorated with different colors, to watch the fluidity of her mousy smile crumple.

Perhaps it's because she tried to dismiss him, like he was nothing, like he was beneath her - maybe that's the vein she strikes, her all-too-pleasant manners an insinuation that she is better. Or it could be as simple as the fact she is a blank canvas in which he can carve whatever manner of misdeeds he pleases.

Whatever the reason is not nearly as important to Öde as what he intends to do with his feelings. He grips them tightly, caught there in the line of his neck as his muscles twitch beneath his hide. Yet there's is a noticeable shift; the girl and her gray sister both are snared by something in him, something hanging from him. As their gaze travels further down his smile spreads, and in response his bulge twitches, bucking against the confines of the leather cradle. Now the wolf can't help but come out in his grin.

It does not escape Öde that the other stallion pulls himself up higher (and that he is in fact higher), but neither does Öde ignore the bout of silence the lad takes up. Öde ignores him, granting him little else than that initial cursory glance; his focus is wholly granted to the mares at hoof.

"Ah, your sister," Öde comments with understanding. "I would never have known..." he confesses with an apologetic tilt of his head, so minor it's nearly imperceptible. Oizy's attempts to encourage her sister back home with them, and though Öde can't imagine why she wouldn't, he isn't done with the game just yet. As the gargoyle girl corrects herself with us, Öde tilts his head the other way, red eyes smiling from his dark features as his idle lion's tail slaps sharply against his flanks. "The company there is... delightful," Öde croons, his voice not quite the rough gravel bass of their father and his friend, but a bit more svelte and rich, like a velvet walk laid over a bloody mess. "The right company makes everything, bearable."


THE GLASS IS HALF EMPTY
Tag me only if starting a new thread.
Magic or force permitted any time, including death - no decapitating.
Be aware active magic doesn't work in his vicinity due to his magic!


62.5/62.5 HP
Helovia Hard Mode


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