the Rift


[OPEN] knights of cydonia [patrol]

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
#1
Erebos
There was enticement, temptation, in the decadence of danger. Some would say it inspired foolishness, too much daring, a sweeping multitude of idiocy; but to the brazen, to the bold, to the beasts who’d been carved from the leagues of menace, it was one more defiant thrust of sedition, one more touch of rebellion. He prospered from revolution, from the vile siege of rancor, from the bitter persecution of abhorrence, from the noxious, nefarious blend of justice and valor, when it trickled down from its virtuous heights and merely became the bones for malice. His frame coiled and curled into the vile turns and contortions of chaos, of bedlam, because it was all he’d known since a child – springing and thrusting and bellowing into the heart lands for pure, wild, savage entertainment, and growing beneath the realm of deceit, of discord, of contempt, sowing the seeds for foretold ambition and beloved acrimony. He’d dreamed of wars and plagues and disaster for as long as he’d been alive, nourished by stories and tales of heroes and villains, before running into their figures and watching, wide-eyed, as worlds fell apart and friends fell and contempt, loathing, infernal, beguiling fury became a portion of his mind, body, and soul. He’d collided into courage, mettle, and wicked, debauched hymns, and the only way to ascertain what was to come next – the future, the foreshadowing, the beckoning, darkened scrolls of all their intertwined oeuvres – they’d had to march forward, back into the Stygian tombs. The prince could say he was maneuvering into the bestial shades, into the misty catacombs, for information to bring back to the mystical Queens, for glory, for truths, but that damned allure still beat in his restless, insurrectionist heart.
 
So when they wandered into the eerie, eldritch floors, accompanied by his companions (little Enyo with her gangly legs, fluffing her wings, unbothered, unperturbed, by the legends already amassed by this significant site, Orsino with his feral nonchalance), his eyes narrowed, watched, ghosted over the scenery, stepping lightly along the boundaries, waiting for Ode to slide and follow in accordingly. He was silent, taking in the sights, the sounds, the awe, the shards resting there, remembering the way others had fallen beneath a monster’s tirade, the remorseless sway of Kao’s words, the warnings beckoning them onward despite the truth echoing through their skulls – and he didn’t know what they’d find, what they’d see, when they dared to go reign closer, when they were spurred on, incensed, by the indulgent void. The General swung his head towards his cousin, a grin coiling just on the edge of his lips, a study in Lucifer pluck, nerve, and audacity, arching a singular brow, searing on the steps of the unknown. “Ready?” The youth called, one foot already in the dungeon.


I'LL SHOW YOU HOW GOD | FALLS ASLEEP ON THE JOB
Image Credits

@Öde [and anyone else who would like to join the patrol <3]

Öde Posts: 145
Aurora Basin Disciple atk: 5 | def: 10 | dam: 5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17 hh :: 4.5 HP: 64.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Blu
#2

Ö_D_E
I'M FRIENDS WITH THE MONSTER_UNDER MY BED

He's eager to leave the frigid caves of the north where he serves the new Haruspex. It's a biting sort of disappointment, one that digs into him daily, though he does his best to maintain a smile. Such niceties are not the first nature of the beast however, and so Öde has slowly tucked away the truth, building it up like a cyst which needs to rupture in order to heal. His skin is taut across his buried feelings, his easy grin the shovel which digs them deeper, and he is fit to burst. His energy is obvious as he keeps pace with Erebos, hooves lifting higher than normal, giddy with this opportunity wherein Öde hopes to come across something upon which he might release himself.

He is better built for war than prayer. His frame is sturdy and strong, his horns defensive and offensive, and his magic is essentially an assurance of victory. He hungers for the triumph of himself over another, for the annihilation of weakness, merciless in whatever means he must acquire it. In all aspects, he belongs in this, body working alongside soldiers, ready to ravage. Much like his smiles however, Öde defies himself, burying honesty and affinity beneath the wardrobe he chooses to dress himself in.

Soliders are after all bodies of meat sent to slam against another, hoping your side will achieve victory. It's hardly the path to walk to achieve true immortality and ascension to the heavens. Soliders are rarely honored, they are easily forgotten, for they all bleed red. No, Öde thinks with a sureness as he steps through the Wilds in the shadow of his kin, though he can certainly partake and enjoy this lifestyle, it hardly suits him as a profession. Disciple or not, at least he is in the presence of the holy.

So while Öde decides this won't be a daily excursion, he can certainly revel in the moment.
Pulling up short, flanks heaving, neck bowed with muscle and horn-tips, Öde grins wolfishly. "Lead on, General," Öde grunts, an impatient fore-hoof striking out and digging into the moist top layer of the marshes. "We ought to destroy any bones we find," Öde reasons, remembering the way they had dutifully gathered such decay for Kaos, and how he wielded the scrap into an impenetrable monstrosity. As awesome as that had been, Öde was keen on eradicating something today, and crushing the very tools Kaos used seemed like a good plan for that regard.



bg- resurgere.deviantart.com
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

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
#3

ask no questions

She hadn’t been entirely sure that she was going to join this particular patrol. Why? No real reason, other than Weaver rarely does anything because she planned to. She never planned to stay in Helovia. She just sort of wandered into the place and decided like it seemed like the right place. She never planned to come to the Basin. Honestly, it’d been her only option at the time, but it also seemed like the right option, and she wasn’t sorry she called it home. Hell, she never planned to face the four horsemen of the apocalypse, she just sort of answered the call of magic as any child would - with curiosity and without fear.

That particular experience shaped her. Changed her from just a spoiled little child (she still is, in a way) into the warrior she’s become. She is not built for it, certainly. She’d built to be in Ode’s place, sitting in temples and communing with Gods. But she does not sit, and she doesn’t care for devotion. Her temperament might suit the sleuths well, willing to trick and sneak and take what she wants without ever being seen. She cares little for honor, about fighting your opponent face to face. Life is not fair, deal with it.

But she loves to fight. She loves to throw herself into danger like a fool, because she knows even a fatal blow cannot stop her. It’s a nice little pause button, and hell, it definitely hurts. But then she just pops on over to say hello to her friend Death and then pops on back to the real world for a while. She loves the thrill of never being entirely sure what’s going to happen to her in those moments. Loves the danger, the impossibility of her actually winning a fight against the mammoths that make up most armies. She loves being everything and anything you wouldn’t expect from her.

She is small and beautiful and wild. She doesn’t look like a girl that would relish scars. But she does. And she loves danger. So despite not planning to follow Erebos, in the end, she does. Curiosity and recklessness lead her to the Marsh, flying to catch up with the General and that dude who went with them. Eventually she finds the two black stallions. Of course they are both black, which makes them harder to find. But thankfully Raven can spot them easily, and he ends up being the one to lead her to them.

She lands not too far away, walking up to them with a quiet nicker, otherwise being careful not to disturb the quiet too much. “Care for a third?” she asks. Raven lands on her back a moment later, offering his own eyes to help them look. To find anything they possibly can. Destroy bones, as this Ode guy suggests. Once, she might have been tempted to go find Kaos to see if he could promise her more than the Basin could. Now though? Now, in truth, she finds that she cares too much for the Basin, that the idea of weakening Kaos in any way is thrilling.

- 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

Toulouse Posts: 146
Aurora Basin Impersonator atk: 8.0 | def: 11.0 | dam: 4.0
Gelding :: Equine :: 17hh :: Six HP: 74 | Buff: ENDURE
Boomslang :: Green Ratsnake :: Paralyze Neverrmind
#4
[Image: toul1_by_neverrmind-db0nrbo.png]
T O U L O U S E

Word of a patrol had spread quickly, and Toulouse was certianly not one to miss out on a journey - Especially not one involving the company of his new herd-brothers  and dear sisters.
In the past days he had come to learn that Basin folk were a hardy kind. They did not tarry, they did not pause, and they certainly didn't seem to stop to bask in the short amount of sun they got. Toulouse had all the reason to fear his comrades, for they were of the toughest stock and blood thier continent had to offer. The Dragon's Throat had their island, their horrid border protection and jeweled sycophants, though it seemed the Basin had one thing that his former home and the land of the warriors lacked; True, hard grit.

The Phantom and his bonded travelled south-west in the direction of the land they had last called home, though were quite happy to wave it by. It was a dreadful place in the eyes of the sneak; one full of far too many dictators and hypocrites, and he certainly was glad that he wasn't returning.
Though his mind did drift to the ballerina who dwelt in the treeline once or twice, it was something he tried his damnedest not to think about. His affection for Manon was a weakness, not a strength, even if it was platonic for the most part.

When his pale footfalls sounded among the creak and thwack of dead tree limbs dancing upon the wind, Toulouse knew he had made it to that horrid marsh. He had seen death here, as many people before him had.
He could still remember watching Nyx being thrown like a pebble from the jaws of that ungodly creature and could recall witnessing as her brittle body was left to the mercy of the ground and gravity.

Treading gingerly upon the only even ground he could find, taking care not to disturb the water, It felt like far too long that Toulouse walked in these haunted marhses. His footfalls became whispers, eatch flutter of wren wings became a laugh, and all too soon he began wondering if he was being watched.
Turning tail, attempting to wander back the way he had come, Toulouse soon found himself following a totally different set of hoofprints; a whole group. They were fresh; not worn, nor were they corroded by weather. And finally, came real voices. The boom of the general (who he did not yet know the name of), was first heard just past the tree line, and as he stepped into the same clearing he eyed yet another dark fellow; this one had been promoted at the meeting.
The vixen he next observed had also been promoted - a corporal.
"General, Corporal" He nodded in the direction of both the grey and the winged woman, then send another nod of aknowledgement towards the man he knew only as a desciple.


stock image l love, space
I AM THE KEY TO THE LOCK IN YOUR HOUSE—
DO NOT CRY OUT OR HIT THE ALARM
YOU KNOW WE'RE FRIEND TIL WE DIE—

EITHER WAY YOU TURN, I'LL BE THERE
OPEN UP YOUR SKULL, I'LL BE THERE
CLIMBING UP THE WALLS

SO LOCK THE KIDS UP SAFE TONIGHT
CLOSE THE EYES IN THE CUPBOARD

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
#5


Oizys is not a woman of morals. She is not the sort of creature to think that one good deed automatically deserves another, nor is she the sort to offer good deeds herself without ample recompense. She rarely feels guilt, and she's even less likely to feel it towards monsters who slaughter her mother.

Why, then, does she feel a horrid, obnoxious pang of guilt when she wanders into the Marsh to try and find clues to destroy Kaos?

For fuck's sake, she scolds herself, he killed Mother. Yet the monkey-like creature he'd spoken to her through had seemed so...innocent. Harmless, even. He'd healed her, despite having no reason to, and had asked for nothing in return save to tell the truth if she was ever asked about her mysterious recovery. He'd offered attention and explanation, far more than any of Helovia's resident Gods had. By removing The Thing in her chest, he'd given her a new lease of life, the ability to move unhindered, to grow and fight and conquer. In short, he'd saved her - and that makes her think twice about whether she wants to destroy him at all.

At the end of the day, though, he'd killed Nyx and that...is not something that can be forgotten by some simple magic trick. That's why the gargoyle steels herself and marches towards the patrol with iron in her heart and determination flooding through her sturdy muscles, any misgivings betrayed only by the somewhat nervous twirling of her leonine tail. Ker sits haughtily upon her shoulders, talons digging in rather more deeply than necessary - she, unlike Oizys, harbours no good feeling whatsoever towards Kaos, and is determined to destroy him at any cost. It is her who first alerts her bonded to the patrol, directing the bulky mare towards it.

Scarred grey gargoyle and raptor prowl through the Marsh after their herdmates, Oizys' large hooves making hefty imprints in the soft soil underfoot. After breaking into a heavy trot, she finally locates the patrol, headed by Erebos. There's another stallion who she recognises from around the herd, and Weaver who she'd sparred against. Then there's Toulouse, otherwise known as Creepy McCreepFace, who receives a somewhat wary glare from the large hybrid as she edges past him into the bulk of the patrol. "Our eyes and ears are yours," she says, and Ker flares her wings in agreement.

OIZYS
NO WEALTH, NO LAND, NO SILVER, NO GOLD
NOTHING SATISFIES ME BUT YOUR SOUL


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




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
#6
Erebos
The wicked, nefarious turbulence called out to him like a siren, and he struggled not to stare, not to savor, not to leap out into the fray and thrust his rapier into the remnants of bedlam; nothing to lose anymore. His heart was a little more twisted, his mind a little more condemned, his soul a little more aligned with sinister grandeur and decadent defiance, worn down and whittled and carved by the armaments of his days spent on this deceitful earth. They’d been scorned, tricked, defiled, and marred by the petulant creation winding, curling, and coiling its way around the mire, and to him, that was enough of a reason, enough of a motivation, to part the marsh, to slay the dragon, to seek revenge and justice and vengeance – there was almost no point in pretending that it didn’t contort his skull into wild, savage fabrications.
 
But there were others to consider before he threw himself into fury and might; Ode, his cousin, proffering an idea of mere destruction, like an idle time, no longer seeking and cleaning out the lands beyond for carcasses and rubble, but pouncing and crackling it all in two. The notion left a pure, regal smile on the youth’s face, all princely despite its vile, ravenous intentions layered, lacquered beneath, chiseling sedition in his expression, in his eyes, in his features, suddenly, truly, Deimos’ son, the Reaper’s own flesh and blood, leading them into glory or disaster. “I like your idea.” Because he wanted to dig his daggers into something, anything; could pretend each bleached bone was an enemy, a fiend, a cretin, a Colossus who’d plunged his hooves into a child’s cranium, a beast who’d tried to slaughter a healer, all the invisible enemies dragging his friends away, allowing them to disappear into midnight reveries and brutal cataclysms. If they managed to conjure information from the wreckage, it’d only be all the more to snag and ensnare, intoxicated by the indulgence of enigmatic allure, demons chasing demons. Then more came, Weaver, surprisingly, though he couldn’t ascertain why – the same question layered behind his lips, but still not giving it voice (perhaps it was answered here and now anyway, since she’d approached, presuming he wouldn’t lead them into ruin and disaster; even though it was exactly what he intended for himself, the nothing lad with all his dreams and ambitions, with all his aspirations and notions, incapable of truly knowing anything). “Of course,” he answered her in turn with a wink, with a nod, with the same regal mannerisms cloistered around his features, pretending he wasn’t just as rotten as their surroundings, drawn to lethality, exposed to despicable ramparts and marveling at their prospects.
 
When another came into view, completely, utterly unfamiliar, a rigid guard came over him, protective, scrutinizing, gaze narrowing just the slightest (intending to preserve, shield, and defend his flock; what little contortion as there), because he had no idea of what thrived along these walls but monsters. His muscles contorted in a vicious ripple, body suddenly taut, composed, head drawn high, all nobility and power, before arching a brow at the address. The beast knew who they were, but nothing else was exchanged. “I’m Erebos – who are you?” It was a simple inquiry, for he didn’t know anything about this stranger, if he was a part of their empire, if he had hastened from some other boundaries, if he saw them nearby and merely presumed rankings.
 
Then there was Oizys, and he had to hold back his surprise at her appearance. Her mother had been shattered here, thrown and tossed and mangled by a bone monster, and the girl had managed to come again, back into the throngs and throes of chaos, back into the walking particles of grief and demolition. He didn’t know whether to admire her bravery, or simply draw to a notion of understanding – because every day he traveled over the embankment where his father had passed, and every day he wandered to the heart of the mountains and paid his respects to his father’s tomb. So instead, Erebos nodded, smile softening just a bit, impressed, amused, and eager, fervent, ready to jump into their disastrous dance.
 
“Let’s go destroy some bones then.” He confirmed, a playful hint to his charismatic grin, as if it was all one giant game – that they weren’t marching into heathen lairs and necromantic chasms, that he couldn’t see the altar rising from the horizon, that they wouldn’t be the next cretins abolished on the marshy floor. He simply wouldn’t allow it.
 
The General turned into the sinking, slimy, boggy hellhole, followed by his companions, the rustle of feathers, the vicious hissing of a fox, and set his sights on the first of many fragments of other creatures. He didn’t know who it belonged to – didn’t think about it, didn’t ask. He merely placed one hoof above its small, rounded edges, and shoved it downward, listening to the ricochet of splintering bone.  


I'LL SHOW YOU HOW GOD | FALLS ASLEEP ON THE JOB
Image Credits

@Weaver @Toulouse @Oizys @Öde

Toulouse Posts: 146
Aurora Basin Impersonator atk: 8.0 | def: 11.0 | dam: 4.0
Gelding :: Equine :: 17hh :: Six HP: 74 | Buff: ENDURE
Boomslang :: Green Ratsnake :: Paralyze Neverrmind
#7
[Image: toul1_by_neverrmind-db0nrbo.png]
T O U L O U S E

Of course, they had every reason to be cautious of Toulouse and any other nameless creatures who slunk into their party, for now they had crossed the border. Their gods were behind them - only Kaos lay in wait here. In the Spectral Marshes they stood, a place of coutless crimes and abominations; It was here he saw the innocent crumble and his leaders crack. Never had he tread among trees so haunted.

The gelding was almost afraid to look down into the muddied, soiled water, fearful of seeing something he would wish to forget but never would. A dark magic thickened the air, perhaps ruining anything that was to touch it - it caused him to wonder if anything could survive in such a fearsome place.
When addressed by the General, Toulouse peeled his gaze away from a stare he had become trapped in, glazed eyes affixed on a rotting fly stuck within a huge spider's web. When his nose turned upon the warrior, a greyish man with a lengthy chin and hard eyes, Toulouse cleared his throat and spoke.

"I am Toulouse, a friend of the Lady Tiamat."
He began, eyes switching to the gargoyle mare as she joined the pack. She would vouch for him would she not? Though if she did it would be quite warped, he presumed.
"It's nice to see you again so soon Oizys" He spoke to the young woman, taking his place at her side. Perhaps she would allow him to accompany her? She was, after all, the only one he actually knew on this trip.

With the order to destroy bones, Toulouse could only agree with a great stomp of his hoof and a nod; heartily and true. Still he believed that destroying the altar was the key; destroying the bones was perhaps the key to destroying the altar, however.
He wandered off from the group, chosing to work without the company of those who may not even want him there. PErhaps he was so used to working around the folk of the Edge, folk who despised him, that he knew not what it was like to work as a team any more.
Perhaps Oizys would follow his lead... in fact, he hoped she would. He very much wanted to get to know her.

@Oizys for mentions!


stock image l love, space
I AM THE KEY TO THE LOCK IN YOUR HOUSE—
DO NOT CRY OUT OR HIT THE ALARM
YOU KNOW WE'RE FRIEND TIL WE DIE—

EITHER WAY YOU TURN, I'LL BE THERE
OPEN UP YOUR SKULL, I'LL BE THERE
CLIMBING UP THE WALLS

SO LOCK THE KIDS UP SAFE TONIGHT
CLOSE THE EYES IN THE CUPBOARD

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
#8

ask no questions

She likes ruin and destruction. Maybe that’s why he’s always so offended or surprised by her. Because who likes those things, other than her? Who tries to find them constantly? What is the point of mastering death if she does not toe the line whenever she can find it? She would follow him into it willingly every time, and she might even let him send himself to an early grave for her. Maybe. Though in truth, she might throw herself in front of the killing blow he sought, time and time again, keeping their General among the land of living because she could. Because he had one life to give and she had thousands. She would foil is plans, thinking she was actually doing the right thing.

A few more join, the slippery gelding and the girl she’d fought. They seem like good enough companions as they set off to destroy bones. Weaver is keenly aware that she is the smallest of the group, that she is the least capable in this group of warriors. That her advantages are the two wings on her side, loathed by those she lives with. But still, she cannot pretend to not have them, not really. And she doesn’t in a battle, regardless of what they think. And she doesn’t here, entirely, because she might as well be useful.

“We’ll bring them to you,” she offers. Raven seems to understand her plan, taking off from her back to circle in the sky above as she shifts. The pain tears flesh and muscle and bone until it all moves and reforms until her and Raven are almost impossible to distinguish. She gives a little wink before taking off, her and Raven swooping off through the sky. Every time one of them spots a bone, they grab it in their talons and deposit it near someone with hooves still, bringing them whatever they can find.

- weaver -

and you'll be told no lies

Image | Quote by Charles Dickens


@Erebos @Ode @Toulouse @Oizys
Feel free to have Weaver/Raven drop bones off near you or not, as you feel so inclined.

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

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
#9


At Erebos' command to destroy bones, the girl hesitates. Kaos had cured her, but that surely means he could snatch her health from her as quickly as he'd granted it. Destroying his bones might irk him into doing just that, and now Oizys knows what it feels like to be truly able-bodied, she dreads the thought of returning to the paroxysms of her childhood.

Yet he'd killed her mother. That thought keeps running through her head - what's more important, health or revenge? He'd helped her, sure, but that didn't erase what he'd done to her. The Basin are her people, now, and she intends to aid them in any way possible. So she steels herself and nods to Erebos' request, before turning with the intention of sloping away to hunt alone.

Before she can, though, there's a voice. It's nice to see you again so soon Oizys. The palomino blends into life at her side, and the gargoyle turns around to eye him with a dubious expression in her cold grey eyes. Why is he being nice? She'd felt quite secure in her assertion that he was a world-class twat, to put it bluntly, yet now he's being all....strange. In Oizys' experience, a leopard can't change its spots, and obnoxious tossers remain as obnoxious tossers for life.

"You're being nice," she observes, her eyes narrowed suspiciously at Toulouse. Ker mimics the expression, and the gelding suddenly has two sets of frosty blue-grey eyes staring at him as though he's a pile of shit that has reared up and begun to speak. Despite her distrust, she finds herself falling into step beside him, moving away from the main body of the patrol to search for bones. "Should I be alarmed? Normally when assholes turn into sweet-talking gentleman, it's because they want something." She continues to eye him warily, because she's about as likely to trust him as she is to trust a snake.

OIZYS
NO WEALTH, NO LAND, NO SILVER, NO GOLD
NOTHING SATISFIES ME BUT YOUR SOUL



@Toulouse

[ 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
#10

Ö_D_E
I'M FRIENDS WITH THE MONSTER_UNDER MY BED

Öde glances over as a soft whicker and whisper of wings alerts of Weaver's arrival. She's got an easy sort of calm to her, not quite poised and ferocious like Erebos, nor buoyantly aggressive like Öde, but casual, like she walks into monster lairs and slays them all the time. Öde lets his eyes linger on her, his curiosity piqued, but she's talking to Erebos and he isn't here to chat so he glances away.

Another arrives then, and the energy shifts as Erebos intensifies beside him. A red eye slides to the edge of its bony casing as Öde quietly observes his cousin from the side, never having truly seen the man in action, not like this. His leadership is undeniable, and the features of Deimos are echoed in all the best ways inside the youthful beast. In comparison, Öde remains lax besides the stony General. He's got nothing to lead, least of all here, and he doesn't harbor quite the same fear as others might in these terrible marshes or otherwise. Öde's excited certainly, but it isn't a thrill born out of risk, just desire. "Am I not worth mentioning?" Öde asks with a gruff drawl as Toulouse regards him with nothing more than a silent nod. He's mostly jeering for the sake of jest, but there's a slight edge to his humor, more sensitive than otherwise given his rank (or lack thereof). "Öde, Disciple," he throws out, but he hates that he does, because it should already be known. Whatever name he made for himself had been buried alongside his body, and much like the rot had healed over his revived corpse, so too did his reputation need resuscitation. Öde's teeth ground as his jaw stuck out, obstinate, "ass kicker on the side," he finished, suggesting that he shouldn't be so forgettable next time.

Oizy's, the gargoyle mare he'd seen out and about, slipped in with them all too and he glanced towards her with the least interest of all. She was nothing worth looking at, for one, and she was just a brawny warrior chick, so Öde settled his attention instead on Erebos as he started them and plunged into the lair of the beast. Öde follows suit just behind him, hooves plunging into every piece of body-rubble he could find.

"How do you do it Erebos," he asks, breathy after the physical run here and the exuberant pouncing of marrow. "How are you constantly so cordial to everyone?!" Öde glanced over at the gray of his blood, envious, before turning back to snatch another bone from the bog. "Whenever I see you, you're surrounded by the herd, and they adore you."


bg- resurgere.deviantart.com

#brotalk
@Erebos
@Toulouse
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

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
Erebos
Perhaps it was the layers of abhorrence scorched amongst the stones, the rubble, the muck and the mire – but something was off, simmering below the surface, as he stared down Toulouse, friend of Lady Tiamat. Maybe his sentiments were running wild, unhinged by the savage outcrops, by the unruly, heinous marsh seething below their feet, but he didn’t entirely trust the individual before them. He knew Ode, he knew Oizys, but he didn’t know Toulouse, but his eyes returned to their usual set, amiable, a twinkle, a glimmer, of deviancy layered behind their blue allure; nodding, obliging the phantom to continue, to seek out bones, to help in their quest for ruin and demolition.
 
The General’s attention flare to Weaver next, a mischievous grin set along his features at the Corporal’s offer – because no sooner had she proclaimed her assistance, did she completely render herself into a bird, and he laughed, boyishly, amused, watching her coast along the skies. He’d met others who could transform (and usually regaled them thoughtfully, not enviously, but with more of an impressed, proud consternation, capable of pondering the depths of their power, of their might). He did wonder why she needed to become more avian when she already had the wings; the question remained listless and shelved behind his lips, parting his mouth to whoop with abandon as she flew off, then mimicked her companion in dropping bones at their feet. “Thank you!” the youth hollered back, taking the opportunity with relish, slamming one more dagger down across its porcelain veneer, pretending it was one more opponent he’d yet to obliterate, grinning all the more when it shattered, when Orsino clawed against the fragments, when Enyo bit down on the smaller slivers.
 
They only seemed to take their separate places and stances then, but he regarded them all carefully, raised his head from time to time to survey, to examine, to scrutinize how they faired – protective until the very end. A layer of suspicion rose, crisp, blunt, a haze of machinations, over his sentiments as Toulouse and Oizys whispered, heads huddled together, but unless something truly happened he wouldn’t interfere.
 
Instead, his cousin proved to be the biggest distraction, amusing in his disgruntlement, laughable as he plunged into denizens of bones, spouting into their void with observations Erebos had never actually taken into consideration. He arched his brow significantly, chuckled at first, laughed away the notions of his cordiality (because there’d been days when he’d been a ruthless provocateur for the sake of cold, unrelenting amusement), and only responded with the first thing that came to his head. “Mother taught me about kindness and consideration,” he shrugged, as if this was the answer to everything – Huyana had been a tender, compassionate influence in his life, teaching him rules, mannerisms, customs, and he played along for the most part, intrepid, valorous, and courageous when the moments suited him – and then a defiant shadow of his father in other instances, born from the reaches of disaster and anarchy. He’d folded into his pretenses so much that it was almost impossible to sort out where they began or where they ended, and then sometimes his sorrow surfaced over everything, and naught really mattered anymore. At the envious turn, however, he laughed again, in disbelief, in irreverence, rebellious because he doubted many would adore him (not if they knew the truth, not if they understood the means and measures by which he promised, vowed, to spite the world). “Are you jealous?” The grin turned wry, a brief, kindled smirk, before he shook his head, crushed another bone under the weight of his feet. “They don’t,” he murmured, the child, the prince, who’d always been a twisted version of Machiavellian arts, audacity, and grit, eyes downcast on the morass, pretending to search for another mark of the deceased. “But I’d do anything for them.” The notion was quiet, muffled, loosened by a slight sigh, a rise of his eyes to set upon Ode, pondering how they’d gotten to this conversation in the first place, when all he’d wanted to do was destroy something. “Would you?”


I'LL SHOW YOU HOW GOD | FALLS ASLEEP ON THE JOB
Image Credits
@Weaver @Toulouse @Oizys @Öde 

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
#12

ask no questions

There’s something infectious about Erebos’ laugh as she disappears into the sky as a bird. A trick she had not yet showed her General, finally revealing her cards just a bit more. Truthfully, she’d just needed to practice on her own first, get used to the mind numbing pain of the shift. She’d spent countless evenings just transforming from one to the next, exhausting herself both mentally and physically, dragging herself through the mud so she could be better. She caws in response to his laugh, and though she could laugh, the caw is far more natural on her beak. Raven caws too, chiming in with his own voice, always enjoying when they both fly together in their tiny little murder.

She can hear bones crush beneath hooves, and it’s thrilling. She keeps flying. Some are small enough for her to crush in this form, but most are not, so she piles them in front of her horse-shaped companions, letting them do the honors. Weaver catches bits and pieces of the conversation as she comes and goes. Ode’s question about how Erebos is so damn nice to everyone. She almost haults, almost laughs, almost asks if Erebos is even capable of anything but being nice.

Instead she sticks a little closer, moves a little slower, trying to catch his answer. Mamma’s boy. The answer is he’s a momma’s boy. Somehow she’s not surprised. She flits in the general direction of Toulouse and Oizys, catching something about assholes turning into sweet-talkers, but she doesn’t worry much about the gargoyle. Girl can take care of herself.

She flies back, dropping more things, catching a few more of Erebos words. At this she does stop, well sort of, because she’s not a hummingbird and she can’t hover. But she flies in lazy circles above them, finally calling out, “How do you know?” The words are a little awkward, and she hasn’t quite mastered talking through a beak, but they are intelligible enough. “I don’t recall you ever asking us what we thought.”

- weaver -

and you'll be told no lies

Image | Quote by Charles Dickens


casually crashes brotalk...sorry, can't resist.
@Erebos mainly, but she's creeping on everyone

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

Random Event Posts: 1,286
Helovian Ancient
Stallion :: Equine :: ::
#13
random event

The statue that Kaos had created begins to hum. The symbols on the side (strange no one has deciphered them yet..) begin to glow. Bright flicks of teal begin to flow, as if it isn't light pouring through but liquid. Indeed, it churns and eventually flows out of the black altar onto the ground.

Despite the fact that the liquid most certainly appears to be caustic, the ground around altar does not die, but instead grows greener.

Does the air actually feel a bit more pleasant? Or is that just your imagination.

Around the tendrils of blue-liquid that continue to pour down onto the earth, small black flowers begin to grow.


image

Toulouse Posts: 146
Aurora Basin Impersonator atk: 8.0 | def: 11.0 | dam: 4.0
Gelding :: Equine :: 17hh :: Six HP: 74 | Buff: ENDURE
Boomslang :: Green Ratsnake :: Paralyze Neverrmind
#14
[Image: toul1_by_neverrmind-db0nrbo.png]
T O U L O U S E

His steps had started lengthy and lithe over the unchartered terrain, a keen gaze of mint and kinder places affixed on the battle-born woman he chose to accompany. Toulouse had always had an inkling that Oizys was the daughter of Nyx, a hunch guided by his blurry memory of the fight and what had transpired in screams and wails on that horrid day; never would he forget how the grey lioness had strode in to shield the gargoyle like a true mother over her cubs. Oizys, though, was the kind of lady he did not often come to be friendly with but would always come to quietly admire.
Strength, the kind not of muscle but of character, was a trait the serpent always wished to see in his own self but never had.

"you're being nice,"
"Should I be alarmed-?"

-Toulouse laughed, shaking his lofty mane as she labelled him an 'asshole' and insisted he must want something.

Strides stopping as he came across looked like a horn bone, the kind you'd find imbedded on the skull on the likes of Sacre and even General Erebos. Poor Fellow, was all Toulouse could manage to press through the filters of his closing mind as he motioned with his left hoof to scoop the dark, algea covered bone from a puddle. Then remembering Oizy's words, his crown soon turned to look her way.
"You must think you have something you can give me then" He spoke, a brow raised in her direction. Toulouse wanted nothing from the giantess, except perhaps a little friendliness - he was new to the herd land, the family, and he knew no one except her. The gelding was no threat, he hoped she would come to see that.
"I was here that day" He uttered as he turned amongst the trees, soon to face the daring glare of the black altar. "I saw your mother run to yo-" He stopped, stammering, watching as the statue begins to hum, to glow.

Turning his shattered gaze to the first other member of the patrol he saw, Öde, Toulouse gave a great booming shout his way, soon to find Erebos's dark hide amongst the frightening backdrop and then Weaver.
"Öde!-" He had called, hooves bracing the earth with the expectation for something wild, something wicked to emerge next. "Erebos! Weaver!"
The liquid that oozed and flowed from the pillar had begun to lick the ground in front of him, brightening the earth and bringing even more life to it. Would it be so bad if he was to touch it...? Entranced, the gelding reached a hoof forward and towards the mysterious liquid, plotting to touch it. Would it bring him prosperity as it did the earth beneath?


stock image l love, space

@Erebos @ode @oizys
I AM THE KEY TO THE LOCK IN YOUR HOUSE—
DO NOT CRY OUT OR HIT THE ALARM
YOU KNOW WE'RE FRIEND TIL WE DIE—

EITHER WAY YOU TURN, I'LL BE THERE
OPEN UP YOUR SKULL, I'LL BE THERE
CLIMBING UP THE WALLS

SO LOCK THE KIDS UP SAFE TONIGHT
CLOSE THE EYES IN THE CUPBOARD

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
#15


She glances down at the bone Toulouse finds, and its similarity to her mother's does not escape her. She swallows hard, composing her face into a mask of indifference even as her heart rages inside. There's images of her dam's rotting flesh suddenly plastered across her eyes, macabre visions of bones and horns left buried in the Edge's ground forevermore....The young mare has to steady herself, fighting to keep up the hard-worn mask of hers.

The gelding's words gather her attention back to the present. You must think you have something you can give me then "Oh, I don't know...maybe my good looks and my immense charm?" Sarcasm drips from every word, because Oizys is far from pretty and she's certainly far from charming. She still eyes the palomino warily, but her posture is relaxed a tad more than it was a few seconds ago; maybe her first appearance of him was deceiving, maybe he's not that bad after all...

His next words, though, cause her muscles to ripple again and her ears to pin. Not out of anger, but out of fear. Fear because if he carries on, she'll be forced to face all those emotions again, be forced to discuss her mother's death when she's still not ready. How can she discuss it when even the sight of a horn that isn't even Nyx's is enough to send her into paroxysms of misery?

Thankfully, something cuts the gelding off from his sentence. Oizys turns, keen to see the source of her relief, but her expression quickly turns back to a deeply concerned frown at the sight that beholds her. She finds herself following Toulouse, lurching back towards the main body of the patrol in time to feel an odd...niceness pass over her. There's blue-black liquid and creepy-looking black flowers that she's sure weren't there before, and her ears remain laced to her skull as she eyes them warily.

Toulouse reaches out a hoof towards it, and Oizys unleashes a loud snort. "Don't touch it, dumbass!" she bellows, throwing her weight to the side in an attempt to ram her left shoulder into his right one, trying to push him away from the flowers. She's not sure why - what is it to her if he gets absorbed into the altar, or otherwise gruesomely murdered? - except perhaps because she's keen to preserve the life of the herdmate, and she knows better than most what Kaos is capable of. "Nothing coming from that altar is going to be good." She glances around, looking for Erebos - he is their General, and the decision on what to do next should rest with him.

OIZYS
NO WEALTH, NO LAND, NO SILVER, NO GOLD
NOTHING SATISFIES ME BUT YOUR SOUL



@Erebos @Weaver

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




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
#16

ask no questions

She’s very content flying around. In truth, she’s very content as a raven, though maybe that’s just because it’s in her blood. Born of the Raven Queen, Weaver was destined to inherit some of her mother’s love for ravens. Though Weaver picked up a love of anything reckless and stupid as well, whereas her mother was composed and calculating. Unlike Weaver, her mother could die though.

Weaver happens to be flying by as the altar starts to hum. She would stop in midair, but she’s not a hummingbird and lacks that skill. Instead, she starts to circle the altar. Raven goes higher, out of the way of whatever might happen. Unlike his bonded, Raven is very capable of dying, and neither of them want that. Weaver spent a few weeks without him, and if she’s admitting things, it was basically hell. And back then they weren’t connected quite as they are now, and she doesn’t really want to find out what it’s like to lose him again.

Toulouse and Oizys both go scrambling back, though Toulouse is brave enough to go near the stuff. Weaver would grin at that, but she can’t with a beak, so instead she just watches until Oizys nearly pummels him out of the way. A slight caw escapes her lips, the quiet laugh of an amused bird. She circles lower, and finds that the air seems to be…better? She’s not sure what the word is for it. But it does feel pleasant.

“I’m hard to kill,” she says, beady black eyes looking mostly at Oizys before she sticks a claw into the blue liquid. Someone might as well find out what happens, and it’s not like it’s going to do that much damage to her. Worst case, some searing pain that doesn’t kill her. Best case, she feels awesome. Most likely case, she dies and comes right back.

- weaver -

and you'll be told no lies

Image | Quote by Charles Dickens

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

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

Ö_D_E
I'M FRIENDS WITH THE MONSTER_UNDER MY BED

There is a moment where Öde holds Erebos' stare, in the wake of the princes first, playful question, and Öde has the word 'yes' already printed on his lips. His teeth hold it back, and he returns the smirk after a delay of seriousness.

He swallows the answer as the prince goes on, intent to hear both the denial and the admission until at last they are left with another question, one not quite so humorous. Öde opens his mouth to speak, even gets out the first word before Weaver swoops in, crushing the brotherly chatter on raven wings.
"I-" don't think so...
Perhaps it's better left on said.
Perhaps it will become something else to say, in time.

"Actions speak louder than words don't they? Both of which are louder than thoughts," Öde offers up in defense to Weaver's verbal barrage. Then again, it's the thought that counts as they say...

Not long after his name is being shouted, and his head jolts up for the urgency in that voice, and the names that follow just after. It isn't long before Öde's crimson gaze claps across Toulouse and the glowing altar, but it's hard to tell exactly what he's seeing.
Odd liquid was flowing from the strange monument belonging to Kaos, and Öde's initial instinct was bad. Except his eyes also saw how the ground was flourish, and how strange black clovers sprung up, and all of it was just nothing he'd ever seen before and he was torn between holding his ground with rigidity of fear and awe. Either way, good or bad, he knew this was something magical, something belonging to a god and therefore unique, and he wanted to experience it no matter what.

Toulouse reached out to touch it amongst Oizy's rebuke, while Weaver cirlces in for an up close encounter as well, and her comment is one that catches Öde's ears. They flick towards her, and he's watching her as he walked closer, not even aware he was.
"How do you feel?" he nearly breathed the question as, trance-like, he sidled up closer to her, poised to discover for himself.


bg- resurgere.deviantart.com

@Erebos
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

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
#18
Erebos
An insistent squawking interrupted their conversation, private at first, and he sighed, arching his brow in the direction of the talking crow. “See what I mean?” He gestured towards Ode, caught in the throes of his own words, and incapable of running away from the snare he’d run directly into. The prince turned to her, this mighty, flapping soldier, tilting his head, indulging her in the largest Cheshire grin he could muster, nearly serene had it not been for the steely gaze piercing through his shell. “Maybe it’s the tone-“
 
He would’ve said more, would’ve been blistered and scorched again by her stone edges, had Toulouse not uttered a sharp outcry. The General’s head turned immediately, expecting disaster and ruin, and all thoughts of mishaps, misdeeds, not being liked, or what Ode would do if the rest of them were endangered, were pale in comparison to the newest discovery slinking from the altar. He followed after them, a hound on the hunt, eyes narrowed and mind speculating as they drew closer – he would’ve endured and calculated a lifetime of chaos bubbling from beneath the murky depths of the Marsh, would’ve presumed a whole multitude of bodies crooning towards the surface, victims of long-forgotten wars bursting into the scene – but not something verdant and plentiful. He paid no heed to Toulouse’s hoof getting closer, Oizys’s warning was enough, and instead, leaned in, skull lowered, maw dangerously near, almost touching it himself, intending to savor the rush of curiosity. There was greenery – as if the world intended to grow and become nourished from the wicked maelstroms and the torturous void, as if bargaining against the grain, soil relishing and bright, ebullient and siren, harvested from carcasses and shells.
 
He gasped though, as Weaver touched the liquid with her beak, and he waited, loosening a hold on his choked breath, awaiting the inevitable – presuming this world would churn and devour them whole when it was ready, eager for the next bite. “This feels like a trap.” His muttering was specious, another disastrous blow into the denizens, and instead of touching and dipping his muzzle into the fray, he raised his crown, narrowed stare fixated on the edges and fringes of the malicious desolation – for they’d all been drawn there, moths to flames, entranced, beguiled, and allured, enticed all over again, incapable of learning the very same lessons, and he wouldn’t allow them to come to harm, poised as if he were reaching for the very blade settled upon his brow. 


I'LL SHOW YOU HOW GOD | FALLS ASLEEP ON THE JOB
Image Credits
@Weaver @Toulouse @Oizys @Öde


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