the Rift


[OPEN] an emotional day

NPC Posts: 298
User-based Random Event
Stallion :: Equine :: ::
#1
NON PLAYER CHARACTER

Across the great bay from where the Dragon's Throat lay, a particularly emotional grandfather went about his day.
Yes, it was most poetic - A grandfather turtle, of over one hundred years old was washing his papery face in the brine and sea salt, the very waters he had called home for his century-long existence. While he had not spent that long on his lonesome, this morning was one he spent in isolation. His beloved, Mrs. Tortimer, had passed only last winter, and so it was with the heaviest of hearts that he combed the last few sprigs of hair upon his head, straightened his shell and checked his beak-like mouth for any ghastly chips.
What was the occasion, you might ask?
Well, having been happily sea-wed for the better part of one hundred years, Mr. and Mrs. Tortimer had procured quite a hefty number of children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, great-great-grandchildren, great-great-great-grandchildren, great-great-great-great-grandchildren... and so on.  
Anyway, today was Mr. Tortimer's great-great-great-great-great-great-great-grandson's sea-wedding, and Mr. Tortimer was most excited to be seeing his sons, daughters, cousins, grandchildren, and all of their friends, because he never really got many visitors.

Turning his tiny tail towards the water, his coconut of a head now facing the dunes, Mr. Tortimer gave a great sigh. It was probably about time he set off; it would take a few hours of turtle time to get there - it was just so far across the bay to the Dragon's Throat oasis. Twelve o'clock sharp he had to leave, he had made note of his before he went to sleep the night before.
Just as he turned once again upon his rugged flippers, The finned paralian gave a glance towards the sun. By it's angle, it was at least twelve o'clock - right on time!
Though, it would take him at least four, five... or maybe even six hours to get there.
Six o'clock for a sea-wedding to start? He'd never heard of such a thing.

Eyes slowly sinking from the sun, jaw slacking, Mr. Tortimer quickly realised he had made a most horrible mistake. The heaviness, metallic sickness he felt in his heart was the kind he couldn't associate to any other; it was pure dread.
Standing grief-stuck on the shoreline, the hundred-year-old turtle watched as the waves rolled in, his gaze threatening to train upon the island of his destination, knowing that his entire family lay in wait for him. Or did they? How was this day any different to all the others? They chose not to visit him on those days too!
Regardless, Mr. Tortimer was certainly not one to ever give up.
Turning again upon his rickety old shell, the turtle searched his immediate area for an intrument for which to write. He was a skilled reader, though not much of a writer given his anatomy. Begining at the top of a sand dune, the old man began to carve out a word;

H E L P.
 


Hi guys! Neverrmind here,
I made this for Pippin to discover his magic but also for a big of fun! anyone can join!

stock image l love, space

Iskra Posts: 79
Dragon's Throat Colt
Colt :: Pegasus :: 17 :: 1 year
Castiel :: Royal Humpback Leviathan :: Tidal Wave Blu
#2

Heaven if you sent us down
So we could build a
playground

you'd be so proud of what we've made

Iskra loved the ocean as much as his mother. Well, perhaps not quite as much, for Ampere was truly enamored with the sea, but he certainly had a hearty passion for it (and a healthy respect). Almost daily he found himself by the shoreline, preferring the beach over the oasis most days. He inhaled the sharp tang of the salt and enjoyed the symphony of the rolling water and gulls. He liked to play with the wet sand, shaping it under hoof and scurrying away from the breaking waves, chasing them to and fro and carving out the sand as he went.

In just this moment Iskra had grabbed some seaweed that had washed up and was sprinting down the beach. The trick was to run fast enough that the seaweed trailed out behind him, waving like a damp, heavy banner. If he didn't go fast enough it wouldn't sail too well and would slap him with it's wet, roughly textured and faintly slimy residue, which was less than appealing (as it was his tongue was recoiled inside his mouth, teeth the only thing firmly gripping the end). Sometimes it'd twist in the wind and tickle his underbelly or surprisingly brush one of his legs, which always illicited a squeal and some crow hopping for good measure.

In this breathless, wild way, Iskra spotted Mr. Tortimer. He instantly stopped, eyes wide with awe, antics forgotten for this wonder, at least until the stilled seaweed swung down and curled against his side. Iskra snorted and side stepped, release his hold on it with a disgusted flutter of his lips. After giving himself a hefty shake, Iskra approached the turtle in the midst of writing. He squinted at the marks in the sand, as illiterate as his mother, but could garner something was wrong by the turtle's abnormal behavior.

"Hello!" he greeted, acutely aware he'd never talked to anything that wasn't a horse or a companion before (well Squishy, the golem, but that was different). Would the turtle understand him? He hesitated for a moment, unsure, before pressing on. "Is something wrong?"
he'd trade his guns for love
I s k r A
but he's caught in the crossfire


Tag me only if starting a new thread.
Magic or force permitted any time, aside from death.

Pippigrin Posts: 77
Dragon's Throat Gladiator atk: 6.5 | def: 8.5 | dam: 4.5
Stallion :: Pegasus :: 10hh :: Two HP: 68 | Buff: NOVICE
Brandybuck :: Wolverine :: None Neverrmind
#3

PIPPIGRIN
FALLEN OUT OF BED FROM A LONG & WEARY DREAM

A groan so loud if could have come from the lungs of a whale escaped the hobbits maw as he flopped each hoof over his stomach and continued to nestle his rump and spine into the hot sand beneath. Licking his chops, his great fan of a forelock shading his eyes, the halfling had settled in for a most glorious nap. As his weary, half-sized body began to succum to sleep his lower jaw began to slowly slip open, soon to create a miraculous amount of snoring.
Peacefully he slept, for minutes or for hours; it was only when a great gust of wind came and beat his forelock from his eyes and handed him a mouthful of sand that the guardian awoke with a vengeance.
Scrunching his nose and launching himself onto his side, the hobbit began to forcefully expel every grain of sand from his maw with repetitive licking until the drool ran down his chops. Eyes watering and wings flared from the turmoil, Pippigrin glanced at his surroundings to find that he had placed himself incredibly close to the water on the north shore. Another hour and perhaps he'd be swept away by high tide.

Squinting once more at his surroundings the warrior gave a gruff sigh as he collected his things; a manticore bone knife, his whither bone slingshot, and he leg brace he already wore. 'Enough with the sleeping, Pip, there's much work to do!' his dear old mama might say over his drowsiness, and she was right.
She was always right.

Not too soon after beginning his trek over the dunes the selcouth creature noticed a strange mark upon the horizon. It was far, far over the bay on one of the many dunes that littered the doorstep of their island. How strange! It had not been there when he had snuggled in for a nap?
A wingbeat more and Pippin was away, gangly legs dangling ever-so-slightly as he plucked himself upwards onto the wind with every intention of sussing out the strange stamp upon the opposite continent's south shore.
The halfling drew near, eyes squinting as he reached the height of hs flight - the picture, or rather, word, was now clear.
"H E L -"
Oh, What!? He didn't think the Throat was that bad! Who was writing such obscenities? As the Throat's Guardian, he would make them pay at. once.
Though not a moment longer and and anoter letter had appeared, finalising the word.
H E L P.

Oh! So they weren't insulting his noble land. Good; perhaps he'd be off then. A twitch of his feathers and the small stag diverted his flight eastward to turn tail back to the island. It was as he flew back that he thought once again about the word, mulling over each letter and symbol and what word it might create. WAIT!-
They needed help!
"HAY!" Pip squawked, his wingls flaring against the wind, angling each pennon to turn his fragile body right back around to face the vast continent once again. "WAIT!"

Anxiously flapping, somewhat madly towards the location of the word written into the dune, Pippigrin saw another had come to lend assistance, or was it he who had asked for help? It was the prince! The prince Mathèo had spoken to at the meeting a number of weeks ago, that same handsome prince who intimidated Pippigrin to the point he felt like he had to hide. What should he do now, now that he was confronted with him?
"Your-" what on earth do you call a prince? How do you address them? "most... holy-and-divine-perfection?" Pippin strapped this togeather, thinking if he had got it wrong he couldn't scold him for not trying. "Do you need any help oh-marvellous-one? I saw your message my prince!"


hes so scared of iskra haha
@iskra


NPC Posts: 298
User-based Random Event
Stallion :: Equine :: ::
#4
NON PLAYER CHARACTER

Round, coconut-shaped eyes had glazed with tears as he lowered his pencil, surveying the message he had written. The turtle felt not much else other than true despair, guilt, and every other feeling that mixed in with it. The fact that he would not have to give any speeches, nor catch up with long-lost cousins gave no relief - only sadness, for Mr. Tortimer would give one hundred speeches and have ten thousand boring conversations with soul-sucking relatives if it meant he magically arrive on time at the Sea wedding today.
The next wave came, not of water but of emotion, for now the elderly turtle had become washed with helplessness and defeat. Perhaps he could watch from afar? From over the bay? His turtle gaze was blurry by now, full of cracks and blind spots, though maybe if he imagined and dreamed hard enough he could pretend to be there... and imagine Mrs. Tortimer there too.

Eyes drifting closed, submitting to the great loss, the turtle almost missed the arrival of his first hero. It was the whip of wings against the wind that allerted him to one of those majestic pegasi, the one's he'd seen come and go every day for the past few years. He wished to know more about them, speak to them even, though he had always been much too frightened of the mighty beasts.
At first the turtle recoiled into his shell, slamming his flippers and head under the brim of his hat-like shell to protect himself. Sadly, he was not a tortoise, so to completely hide within his shell was not an option. If things did become terrible he might attempt to bury himself.
But no,
The pegasus spoke instead of fought, and he smiled instead of gawked.

Promply another had landed! Only this one was half the size of the first, and apparently had not spotted Mr. Tortimer, chosing only to adress the supreme, gilded pegasus. A prince of some kind?
"Yes," Something WAS terribly, terribly wrong "I have made an awful mistake. Today is my great-great-great-great-great-great.." He paused to take in a heaving breath, "great-great-grandson's Sea Wedding, and I have to be at the oasis now!" He raised his flippers in a gesture of frustration, the sprigs of hair upon his head glinting as he craned his head between both boys. "Can you help me?"
 


<3

stock image l love, space

Iskra Posts: 79
Dragon's Throat Colt
Colt :: Pegasus :: 17 :: 1 year
Castiel :: Royal Humpback Leviathan :: Tidal Wave Blu
#5

Heaven if you sent us down
So we could build a
playground

you'd be so proud of what we've made

TEXT HERE TEXT The abrupt slap of the turtle's scaled skin against his shelled abode gave Iskra a start. His head jerked upright and his body sucked into itself, leaning back somewhat onto his coiled rump, causing his partially grown tail to touch the sand as he did so. Meanwhile the feathery crest behind his ears moved in the opposite direction, fluffing up and crowing forward in a fan of teal. Iskra's eyes had widened, and his ears fell back a bit with uncertainty, but it was quickly apparent the sound had been nothing more than that.

Just starting to relax and poke forward again, Pippigrin came in on a shout and hasty flight. Not to mention he began to babble in utter nonsense, causing Iskra's 'brows to furrow in bewilderment. The word prince again rolled out, much to Iskra's distaste, but he focused instead on the sensible part of Pippigrin's query. "Oh yes!" Iskra exclaimed, leaning closer to Pippigrin in his excitement of aid. "Do you happen to speak turtle?" A moment of thought then Iskra added, "or read it?"

By then the turtle had returned from his poor attempt at sucking into his shell, and much to Iskra's delight was talking to them! His grin hastily fell away however, the excitement over such an amazing feat dampened by the understanding that something was in fact quite amiss. Iskra was crestfallen, and a mild gasp squeezed from his nostrils as he felt for the poor old turtle. "Oh my, that is bad," Iskra lamented. As if to prove the point, Iskra's head turned towards where he knew the Oasis lay, not far for him, but a turtle he knew was a different tale altogether.

"Well," Iskra began, uncertain, but willing. "I am able to uh, move things," he explained lamely, shrugging with a roll of his shoulders as if he didn't have a better way of putting it. He glanced around for something to demonstrate on, and spotted the twig the turtle had been writing with. Narrowing his gaze with concentration, Iskra extended his magic towards it, super-heating the air around it which caused unsteady movement due to the temperature differences. Still being young, Iskra wasn't the most accomplished, and a turtle was much heavier than a twig. Not to mention, "it might get you really hot though. Some things catch on fire because of it." Iskra didn't think the turtle would combust, but he didn't want to hurt him in any manner.

Pitifully he turned to look at Pippigrin, wondering if the small stallion had any other ideas, magic or otherwise.
he'd trade his guns for love
I s k r A
but he's caught in the crossfire


Tag me only if starting a new thread.
Magic or force permitted any time, aside from death.


Forum Jump:


RPGfix Equi-venture