the Rift


what the fuck did I say?

God of the Spark Posts: 111
Helovian Ancient
Stallion :: Hybrid :: 15.3hh :: Ageless
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#1
Unimpressed.

That was the adjective that most properly described the God's frame of mind at the current moment. Really, it described his everything. You know what he didn't have time for? This relentless, micro-managy bullshit. If he had fingers, he would have counted off the number of weeks it had been since he appeared for precisely this fucking reason, saying he would blow these mountains up if things did change.

And here he was again.

Didn't they know he had a life? That he had things to do? That there was some clusterfuck 'god' running around, planning the demise of all that they held dear (or so it seemed), and instead of dealing with it, his heard was flailing around like infants in the primordial cold. 

Sparks crackled around his body as he gazed up at the mountains, thinking how much easier his life would be if he didn't have to deal with all of this. There was a reason he had stayed away so long before; a reason he'd let his brothers and sisters run things before he decided to show up and reinsert himself into the family.

“For fucks sake.” He grumbled under his breath. 

Lightning flashed across the sky, but unlike normal lightning, it didn't disappear. It remained. And in large, clear words it simply said:


DISAPPOINTED. 

RIKYN = LORD.

DON'T FUCK UP.


He thought about disappearing, but the smallest sliver of altruism that he could feel inside of himself kept him rooted to the spot where they could see him. Rikyn had impressed him, if only because he'd risen out of the pit that he'd long ago dug himself into. If nothing else, the stallion was loyal and, given how quickly he'd finished the God's task, was a bit of a keener. Maybe he was a bit annoying at times, but he'd take annoying over absent any day. 

god of the spark
 
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Rikyn the Puppeteer Posts: 549
Aurora Basin Lord atk: 7.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 4.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.3 :: 4 HP: 70 | Buff: SWIFT
Duir :: Royal Cerndyr :: Earth Spirit Bunnie
#2


ЯIKYN


So, when giant letters flash across the heavens in shining, silvery white, its hard not to notice – especially when one of those words is your name.

Stopping dead in my tracks from where I’d been returning up the path on my way home, I stare opened mouth at the life changing, literal beacon. Duir, equally astounded, is the first to break the silence which grows between us, his sunlight and rain dampened forest voice blooming to mind: there was no one else?

Usually, I’d be offended, but today, the pressure of the ever-cool stone in between my shoulder and armor is obnoxiously obvious as I stare at the words writ in the sky.

Seriously, I concur, deciding, some seconds later, that I should probably stop standing here like a moron, and, I don’t know, be dignified or something. Drawing up thoughts of Uncle Deimos (silent, and stoic – not really me, you know?) and my horrible mother (let’s just use that as the not that way model), I’m left with some in between semblance of either. Lifting my head, and setting what I hope to be my best hoof forward, now I understand completely the worry that had creased Erebos’ brow as he’d talked of his new position, as General.

Sure, I’d been given charge of the spies, but… that was fun, really, and they were all older than me, and didn’t need that much leading, to be perfectly honest. Besides, I’d done all that business on my own, when I was out there, in the woods. This job, however, was different; if I fucked up, as the sky so verifiably warned me, it would be my fault the mountain was blown to the Moon and back, or whatever fate befell a land at the hands of a really pissed off God.

Here goes nothing, I think to myself, walking into the Basin for the first time as Lord, rather than simply a misplaced prince, or youthful Thief.

Oh Gods, Duir mutters between us, following after me.




call me a safe bet
I'm betting I'm not



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@Tiamat

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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
#3
the Ocean’s Light
The ocean maiden doesn’t ever see their patron god—if he had actually appeared at all—but the message that he had left for them is impossible to overlook. Blinking against the brightness of the crackling lighting, she reads the words silently to herself, mouthing them several times. At first, there is a sense of being dejected that spears sharply through her fragile heart, the bold word ‘DISAPPOINTED’ burning into her mind. Even though she has seen nothing of the Fae since their promotion (which has been, admittedly, somewhat of a disappointment), Tiamat would like to think that she has been working hard to keep this herd together—together and thriving.

Has the Time God not recognized that?

Fortunately, the Ocean’s Light is not allowed to wallow selfishly for very long, because the next line of words has her spirits suddenly soaring. “Rikyn!” She cries happily, glancing to her companion, who chirps in their shared excitement. Giggling to herself and kicking up her heals, Tiamat bounds forward. Her pearly eyes search earnestly for the golden-marked stallion, her gaze combing through the forest of pine trees and out across the mountain valley, hoping that he is not very far—or, at the very least, home.

Before long, she notices a shadowy figure near the Basin’s entrance, and soon recognizing it as her dear friend and new comrade, she leaps towards him. “Rikyn!” She calls again as the distance between them closes, her step bouncing and quick, while the shells in her hair chime in the wind. “Rikyn! Did you see!?” Tiamat shouts happily, even though of course he has seen the words—because who could miss them?

Finally slowing her pace, although the continuing force encourages her to prance in a circle around the stallion, Tiamat gives him a wide grin. “Hello, my Lord,” she greets him with an airy giggle, keen to see his reaction. “We’re going to lead together! Can you believe it?” The two seem to be starkly different in their expressions, with the blue Lady soaring on her high spirits, though it doesn’t take long for her to sober up a little. She understands the weight of responsibility—she is still learning how to shoulder her new duties—but not disheartened, she reaches out to Rikyn. Softly, but firmly, she presses her muzzle to his, and looks into his eyes—because he is not alone.

Together, they can do this.

Drawing back and prancing away a few steps further into the Basin, the Ocean’s Light looks over her shoulder to Rikyn. “Who do you think should replace you as Thief? I think you know the spies better than I do,” her laughter is more awkward now, because she should get to know everyone better, but they only have so much time in a day. Swishing her lion tail happily from side to side, she eyes him with a nearly palpable joy.


notes; THIS IS GONNA BE FUN ;D
“Speech.”
Somewhere over the rainbow, way up high
there’s a land that I heard of once
in a lullaby.
@Rikyn
please tag Tia in all replies!
magic & force are permitted.

Rikyn the Puppeteer Posts: 549
Aurora Basin Lord atk: 7.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 4.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.3 :: 4 HP: 70 | Buff: SWIFT
Duir :: Royal Cerndyr :: Earth Spirit Bunnie
#4


ЯIKYN


I’ve not made it far into the vale before a familiar voice breaks through the wind, like a song. Though I’d hoped I might make it further in, maybe investigate the area beneath the radiant words to see if the Time God was there, the sight of her is probably the most relieving one that might have met me, besides, maybe, Erebos. Pausing in my step, as Duir bounds forward to greet Nimue (as always), I smile at her awkwardly, feeling the heaviness of it all weigh down on me for a brief moment (almost overwhelming), and nod.

It’s easier to feel those fears fall away, however, as she dances around me, her cheerful smile and eager giggles finding purchase in my heart swiftly. Perhaps it is that I have a very tactile, physical memory of that joy which moves her hooves beneath her, and causes her lips to curve upwards without worry for the repercussions of the God’s decision, but it’s easier to mimic that happiness than it had been a season, or even a week, ago.

Lifting my head in a mockingly regal fashion with a laugh of my own as she calls me Lord, the same impish glimmer that blooms to life in my eyes when I call Erebos General arrives again, despite the heaviness of my heart.

"My Lady," I laugh. Sweeping my muzzle forward thereafter to greet her, the sensation of her eyes meeting mine makes my belly do an odd flop, and my chest tightens with the pressure of too much air. Doing my best to pretend like that didn’t just happen, I try to casually pull away from her, and continue on through the valley, blinking slowly, and wondering, what even was that?!

Duir’s laughter (at me, not with me) dances through my head, as he keeps up after Tiamat and I with graceful, sweeping steps.

"It’s pretty wild, yeah," I say, looking again at the words in the heavens, and seeing, now, what appears to be the Spark standing below them. As we approach, my friend’s question meets my ears, and without hesitation, I look back at her with my answer. "They are all suitable candidates, in skill and heart. Only Toulouse is liable to be socially equipped for the job of command, however. Albrecht is too volatile, and Roland works best alone."

"Toulouse must be kept an eye over, of course," I tell her, quietly, having enough confidence in the pale, peculiar man to promote him, but having doubts, also, I felt it only fair to share them with Tiamat, "he arrived here from World’s Edge, and brought with him secrets, which he offered to Imogen and I freely. It was beneficial us, and a good move on his behalf, to show favor towards his new herd…"

But, as I told her not so long ago, I’m a bad man. I see things in ways only bad people would.

"Yet, if you share old secrets, what will you do with the new?" I ask Tiamat, though it’s mostly a rhetorical question. The God is near enough to overhear us with his physical ears now, anyway. Besides, I’m probably just being paranoid. From what Toulouse had told us, he had not felt very welcome, or fairly treated within the realm he had served formerly, which was reason enough to turn cloak. These doubts, regardless, were nothing that time would not resolve, right?

If he betrayed us, I’d just kill him, if Erebos and his band of savage Amazons didn’t, first.

"God of the Spark," I greet, with a bow, that same self-doubt beginning to well in the back of my eyes, now that I’m face to face with the Divine, "I, uh, well… thank you, for trusting me. I will try not to, you know…"

I look at Tiamat (recalling how she’d reacted the last time I’d unleashed my repertoire of unsavory language), not really wanting to repeat the language currently emblazoned across the sky; it feels equally foolish, however, to not say it, considering its unavoidable presence overhead, looming with pulsating light.

"Fuck up. At least not too badly," I say with a grin, glancing at my oceanic friend, "I’m sure Tiamat will keep me in line, anyway."




call me a safe bet
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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
#5

 
The stories had always told him the mountains were an enduring, persistent landscape, its members hardy, dependable, striving for greatness, for power, for potency beneath the rising sun and the frigid climate. He’d been born in its swirl of darkness and disaster, forged after the alterations of war, and so all the prince had ever known was to stand amidst his kin and country, proud, strong, stalwart, a dominating, commanding essence. His father had reigned for what felt like eons, all ice, all nonchalance, all cold, brooding calculations, as glacial as the rest of their world; and when he fell, the boy had felt himself crack too. Then other stars came shimmering from the Stygian abyss, when Hotaru vanished, when the Reaper took his final breath, there were others, not dastardly, not chilling, that were ignited and incensed, given a throne – the sea girl, who’d been christened into divine, oceanic qualities, who’d bent her head and took Deimos’ scepter (who’d been the most stable of all of them – consistently there). The General had smiled, had wondered, had pondered over their state, believed in their fortitude and might once more, because his heart was full of convictions, and they’d spring over the nefarious deeds, the licentious qualities, time and time again for the sake of the snow, of the peaks, of the valleys.
 
He’d noted Aisling’s absence, but didn’t bring attention to it, didn’t ask, didn’t question, didn’t query. His place was been marked for the battlefield, and he hadn’t made a stab into political factions, too busy alternating between spars, patrols, and general mayhem (it sprung on him in the heat of the moment, when he glided across the unfrozen lake and practiced against chimeras and demons, watched as they flickered to life in the glow of Orsino’s magic, until each and every one of his enemies had been felled by the length of his sword, but no blood ran along the rapier – not yet). Erebos’ motivations had been fixated on ensuring his clan of sturdy, staunch fighters became even more; that they’d thrive on the thought of rampages, of quests, of crusades – protecting, guiding, and fighting.
 
But he hadn’t been the only one who noticed – his eyes glanced towards the horizon at the sound of thunder and the bolts of lightning – and nearly winced at the culmination of all their efforts being just one more disappointment to the deity. Did the God of Time ever see them beyond a cluster of conundrums and mishaps? Did he see as they reached and scorched and pledged determination into their bones? Did he see them constantly recruiting, wandering to the edges of the earth to hopefully bring back another addition? Did he seem them bloody and wounded, marring each other for the sake of this damned empire? Or did he merely glance down when they were weak and weary, and trod on them further – diminishing those few, fragile hopes and ambitions still left ignited and inspired?
 
The prince couldn’t blame the God, in a way. They’d bowed their heads at the latest meeting, offered oaths and promises, and the notions seemed to have slipped away from one of the chosen – but now there was someone else taking their place along the walls and lineage of legends; and the name flashing across the sky in brilliant lights didn’t make him shake his head, didn’t make him scorn the earth, didn’t make him yearn to escape. Instead, as the swirl of letters formed his best friend’s name, the General laughed, great, grand, and buoyant, and ended it on a smile, gaze instantly focused on the edges of their realm, searching for the newly recognized Lord.
 
Above all the emotions (content, satisfied, hopeful) brewing along his chest as the three (fox, griffon, and beast) searched for the King of the North, pride for his companion was the most obliging. Rikyn had earned this, though his blood, sweat, and tears, through his actions, through his dedication, through all the turmoil, the hate, the trepidations, finally landing in a spot where power rested at his feet. The scion wouldn’t ask him if this was what he wanted, if he was apprehensive, if a certain consternation built up between his heart and his lungs (but if Rikyn ever said a word about it, Erebos would be right there, lending whatever sagacity or guidance he could proffer). So when he spotted him, near Tiamat, likely discussing the ascension, his mouth parted on an ebullient grin, a whoop, a shout, along the atmosphere, pervading in its lofty form – like they were children again, racing across hills, defying everyone and everything. “Congratulations, Lord Rikyn!” When he approached, he bowed low, a sweeping gesture of silliness and satisfaction, genuinely pleased for the bay. Their dreams were not so whimsical, in the long run – aspirations had melded and molded, and the charismatic smile emboldened across his features dared to last. “The General is at your service.” Then he winked at Tiamat, ignoring Orsino’s narrowed eyes, Enyo’s eager captivation, providing his own sentiments of amusement and diversion. “Let me know if he causes you any concerns.”
 
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@Rikyn @Tiamat

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
#6

TOULOUSE
TINKER SAILOR SOLDIER SAILOR RICH MAN POOR MAN BEGGAR MAN THIEF

The smack and crackle of lightning, the quake and sky-shattering thump of thunder, was all more than enough to arouse the slumbering serpent from his slumber. Commonly nocturnal, rising and turning in with the moon, Toulouse was in the final hours of sleep when the alarmingly unnatural storm shoot the sky above his cavern. Crawling from the entrance to his cave, Toulouse's frowning gaze peered upwards and over the surrounding pines to behold the message etched into the sky; a message that the specter expected to last no longer than a second, though, it remained.

Rikyn, the new lord. And about blood time in the snake's opinion. How long had Toulouse resided in the north and yet never laid a single eye upon the supposed Fae who had again, supposedly, earned the other title as Lady? Rikyn was, under any kind of common sense, one of the only others fit to lead. Toulouse might expect the same from Erebos, though not many others.
Still, when it came down to the brunt of it, these people who were still burdened by the loss of their former lord did not deserve to be abandoned a second time.

A small smile found it's way upon the storm-lit gelding's countenance, Boomslang coiling tighter upon the man's crown before the pair strode out from behind the mountain where the thief's cave lay, his pace taking him down from the heights of the Basin's outlying foothills to the entrance of their snowbound home.
'Rikyn!'
It was the Lady's voice, the ever-sweet Tiamat who first cheered for their new monarch. Stopping in his tracks, toulouse allowed the moment to unfold before him as he waited i nthe treeline - he would allow them a moment before intruding himself. Curiously, he caught word of the Lord's praises and concerns for him, and with a nod Toulouse could only agree. Why would they trust him? Why should they? It would be wiser than anything not to. He would not pretend he did not hear these words, however, as that could only chip away at the trust, honesty and attitude of transparency he attempted to build between them - this would be something to discuss with both lady andl ord at a later date. Today was a celebration.
As he stepped from the treeline, his eyes crossed to another who had joined them; Erebos. Allowing the grey soldier to speak his part, Toulouse slowed his steps to almost a stop upon his approach, his curious eyes tracing over the muscular body of their general. He'd hate to be caught under those in a fight.
"My Lord," Toulouse finally boomed, a face full of smiles. "My Lady, General," he then acknowledged, nodding Tiamat's way and also towards the leader of their army. "I believe congratulations are in order!" the gelding spoke to the slightly shorter stallion. "What do nordlings such as yourselves do on such triumphant occasions?" He asked, truthfully hoping there would be some kind of celebration! The herd was one more step out of the dark.


YAY!

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
#7
She actually does laugh this time. It’s fucking hilarious. How do you not laugh as the lightning cracks through the sky and yells at them. I mean, it’s not like it has a voice, but it’s giant letters that are very clearly not happy. Which is about right, really, because Aisling had been made Lady and then just up and disappeared and yea, that seems pretty crappy and stupid when your God had appointed you.

By the time she finds Rikyn, there’s a few there already, and the God of the Spark still hanging around. Weaver slows her pace some, not that she was exactly running, but feeling like this is one of those moments where it’s better for her to be just slightly late. Tiamat and Rikyn are already talking, and Erebos is there, and for a moment she just lets them have it. It’s their moment. Lord, Lady and family. But then Toulouse is joining them and she figures their moment is over, and she makes her way into the group.

“Well well, Lord Rikyn,” she says with a grin, words full of her usual playful teasing. “Your name is writ in the sky. I expect great things.” In truth, she can see why the God picked him. More than the last choice, even. He cared enough not to fail, but not so much that it would break him. At least, that’s what she thinks from their short interactions, though in truth, she doesn’t know the new Lord well. But that seemed likely to change if he was to lead them all to greatness. “I’m at your service.”

They all wanted greatness, didn’t they?

- weaver -

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Albrecht Posts: 249
Aurora Basin Impersonator atk: 6 | def: 8.5 | dam: 2.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.1hh :: 19 (Orangemoon) HP: 60 | Buff: NOVICE
Strom :: Suma Ball Python :: None Townsen
#8
albrecht
An unnatural light blooms overhead, drawing the old stallion’s begrudging attention. He cocks his head, trying to discern this new atmospheric feature from the more golden light of the sun and the bright blue backdrop of clear skies behind it. At first the bolts of spark magic – unquestionably so, since no other lightning he’s ever seen has appeared during clear weather and without thunder or rain - seem to repel his eyes, too bright to stare at directly, but difficult to see in focus without studying to some degree, their edges seeming to shift, restless, flickering between opaque and transparent, as if the energy itself resents its captivity and struggles for escape. It takes him several moments to realize that the shapes are actually letters.

Rikyn as Lord.

By now the herd is starting to gather, most of them cavorting, celebrating, or otherwise expressing approval for the appointment of their new leader, and truthfully, objectively - which the old black is largely not - he has no legitimate complaint to the gold marked stallion’s promotion either, though the way he's been promoted spreads a wild grin across his face.

With the loss of Deimos and the white witch’s conspicuous absence there aren’t many others he would have considered appropriate for the position anyway, had he been asked. There’s only one other, actually, but in so far as he can tell the Reaper’s son is content to lead his warriors and leave the role of figure head to another.

Approaching the group, his usual churlishness still subdued by amusement, the old stallion nods to the man of the hour, only a hint of ungraciousness in his emerald eyes, and even that quickly extinguishes when he realizes who the figure behind him is - their patron deity himself - the God of the Spark, or is it the God of Time? He's heard the terms used somewhat interchangeably, but isn't about to pester an irritated Ancient with his ignorance, bowing his head instead, a measure of true deference in the gesture this time, and a quiet, "Sir."



"Talk."
OOC // Congrats!
Oh where have you been
that it hurts to be forgiving?

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[Image: 56c616e54affc]Rated M, R, NC-17, AO, 18+, NSFW
Tag dat azz!  @Albrecht
Violence & Magic okay.
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Öde Posts: 145
Aurora Basin Disciple atk: 5 | def: 10 | dam: 5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17 hh :: 4.5 HP: 64.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Blu
#9
ÖDE
Öde was in the midst of grazing on the tough tundra plants when the boom shook and split the sky. Instinctively Öde's body tensed and sprung to the side, hooves tossed up defensively while his neck slung his horns back and forth with a rolling, heaving movement towards the ground, counter-weighting his raised ass. As he landed he gave a long, explosive snort through his flared nares, ears pricked with attentiveness, while his narrowed red gaze scoured the surroundings for threats.

His attention was immediately drawn towards the heavens, where electric writing scrawled out a clear message. Öde's features at once slackened into awe, his mouth agape, and his hairs prickling with chills as he reveled in the raw power of their deity. What the message had to say was insignificant to Öde, who was merely interested in how the message came to be. Never before had he witnessed stationary lightning, and as such it was a true testament to the abilities of the Spark. It drew a giddy shudder through Öde, and his leather strap twitched.

Grinning like a devil he set out towards the writing, hoping the God might still be present. Others had already gathered, but they were foolishly focused on the new lord rather than the titan of time. How could they be so charmed by another crown-placing when it was bound to tumble off some day just like all the rest? Öde already wore the only crown he needed, and it was the only one he could garner any interest for. Instead he slunk past the crowd, inching closer to the Time God, red eyes gleaming with childish wonder. He dipped his head respectfully, "My God," he murmured. "I think your message will stick this time," Öde mused, glancing back at the lightning in the sky. He could only imaging how irritating it was to have to deal with such trivial mortal matters... it was a constant annoyance to him as well, and he wasn't half as involved as Time.
I have become DEATH
the destroyer of worlds.
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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

Lena the Songbird Posts: 663
Aurora Basin Time Mender atk: 4 | def: 10.5 | dam: 6.5
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15.3 :: 6 HP: 69 | Buff: NOVICE
Imogen :: Common Kitsune :: Fire Heather
#10
The Basin didn’t crumble – she’d seen it many times before. They’d waged wars, faltered, but failed to fully erode. They’d staged invasions, but failed to completely fall apart. They launched tirades, passions, ardors, flung themselves headlong into battle, into disaster, into ruin, into abominations, but failed to deteriorate. There were always momentary lulls, where plans went awry, where methods, schemes, and mannerisms went undetected, where the walls had threatened to crash, smolder, and dissolve around them – but lord, they’d persevered. They were hardy, they were determined, they were stalwart and staunch, proud citizens born from the ice, from the rubble, from the ruin, always ready, always fervent, always eager for the next plunge – and she’d smiled, she’d craved, she’d dreamed right alongside them. So even amidst the savage wilderness, even within the instability, the changing leaders, the altering monarchs, she believed they’d find their ground again.
 
The God of Time, as unrelenting as his empire, had named one more to the rotation of reigning Kings and Queens, and as she stared into the sky, the depths of her smile grew broad, grew warm, grew tender. Rikyn’s name flashed amongst the heavens, and despite the animosity, the hostility, entangled beyond it (because Aisling had disappeared; and there was no root cause, no known notion), her heart, her soul, was buoyant with the possibilities, with the twists and turns, with the ruminations of lineages and generations scorched in stone and rime. She could recall the days when his sire had been King, and though his reign had been quick (for the Engineer hadn’t felt the political pull), she presumed Rikyn’s would be long lasting, a testament to the olden days of strength, fortitude, and tenacity.
 
They arrived behind the angles of the crowd, fox and Songbird, weaving their hearty hellos and hallelujahs, promising her allegiance to one more master of their realm. “Congratulations,” she spoke to the youth upon her approach, bowing, proffering her regards to both King and Queen (a regal smile for Tiamat; the kind, gentle sea-girl who’d once only followed the call of the gulls, blossomed into a fine ruler). When her eyes settled back upon Rikyn, her grin broadened, compassionate and serene. “Your father would be proud.”


Lena the Songbird

love in the eyes
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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
#11


If Oizys had been able to choose her magic, she'd probably have picked the ability to write rude words in the sky. After all, she's puerile and childish and still laughs whenever somebody says 'tits', so it would be right up her street to carve eternal filth into the heavens. As it is, she's had to settle for summoning malicious spark beasties and transforming into any animal she pleases, which is admittedly far more useful and badass. Still, though, maybe there's somebody out there who can broadcast their swearing to the masses...

Turns out that there is. And it's only the fucking Spark God himself.

The giant letters can hardly be missed, and the gargoyle has to blink twice to check that she's read it correctly. Do her eyes deceive her or is that an f-bomb written in electricity in the sky? Given the herd's patron deity, the writing is more than likely done by the Spark God....which makes it a holy f-bomb, and therefore even better. The rest of the announcement is a bit of an anti-climax after that - Rikyn is their new Lord, replacing the absent Fae who is obviously so good at her previous sleuth role that she's managed to disappear from her throne altogether. Hopefully her replacement will be less of a disappointment.

Oizys soon finds herself deep in the throng of horses, but she, unlike them, is focused more on the Spark God than the newly-crowned Puppeteer. "Expletives written in the sky? You've just got yourself a shiny new worshipper." The young mare had previous favoured the Moon Goddess, given her status as the only female God and her utter Dark badassery, but things can easily change and Sparky....Sparky is a whole different kind of awesome.

Finally, she looks to Rikyn. He's an attractive creature, that much hadn't been lost on her when they first met, but now he is a king....his attractiveness has just doubled. They've hardly exchanged two words, but she thinks he should be competent enough to rule them. "Congrats," she says, although her eyes still roam greedily to the Spark God who holds her full interest.

I'M NOT A HERO, I'M A LIAR
I'M NOT A SAVIOUR, I'M A VAMPIRE
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[ the gargoyle queen ]
OIZYS IS ALWAYS RATED M FOR STRONG LANGAUGE IN HER POSTS




Wessex Posts: 149
Aurora Basin Haruspex atk: 5.0 | def: 8.5 | dam: 7.5
Mare :: Unicorn :: 16.3 hh :: 3 HP: 68 | Buff: NOVICE
Astor
#12

I AM IRON AND I FORGE MYSELF

Wessex seems to be the only one who harbors a slight skepticism about Rikyn and his very public promotion - partially out of jealous (let’s just go ahead and get that out there) and partially because of prior incidents. His first impression was... nowhere near stellar, and though she was gracious enough to give him a second chance, that doesn’t mean she’s forgotten what he’s capable of, what he thought amusing - that smirk when he thought he was being so clever by demonstrating his powers on her.

The part of her that weighs the pros and cons, that great logical organ in her horned head also tells her that they’ve only just entered each other’s lives. There are others here to know him far better than she, and while that is not necessarily reassuring (sociopaths hide so well amongst the normal folk, don’t they?), it tells her that she likely does not know the whole story. And that she isn’t likely to get it, not with the nature of their relationship.

So while others offer their regards, pledges, and congratulations, Wessex turns her face to stone. Shrewd eyes follow him, but narrow only ever so slightly in their gaze, her whiskered lips doing their best to remain in neutral. Here and now is not the time to remind him of her prior vow. It still stands, as far as she’s concerned, and Wessex has every intention of repeat those words. He knows the damage she can do - and she can only get better on the battlefield. The mottled mare remains in the back of the crowd, a silent watchdog, every now and then deviating her studious gaze to Tia or the God.

She will find him after this.

W E S S E X

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-- please tag in all posts! --
-- magic and force allowed, no death or permanent damage --

Roland Posts: 230
Aurora Basin Phantom atk: 7.5 | def: 10 | dam: 2.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16 hh :: 8 yrs HP: 60.0 | Buff: NOVICE
Glo
#13
you're a fraud and you know it
but it's too good to throw it all away


The Gods always seemed unable to resist an ostentatious entrance.

The crude message written across the sky did not necessarily come as a surprise to Roland, but the resounding crack of thunder that announced the Spark’s arrival was enough to jolt him right out of his skin. Lightning bathed the land around him in a startling, stark white, flickering across the mountains like a blue flame before it vanished in a hiss of sparks, leaving only the God of Time’s sentiment to ignite the atmosphere.

The Phantom could not vouch for Rikyn’s capabilities, could not say with certainty whether he would fall into a role of leadership with ease and little effort, or falter under the weight of such responsibilities. Roland would not bow to a God’s judgement based on rank alone, for he had come to learn they were beings just as flawed as those they ruled over, but he had come to like the young stallion already. With luck, they would see peace and prosperity with him and Tiamat at their helm.

As always, when a deity is involved, a crowd had begun to congregate beneath the writing in the sky. A chorus of congratulations echoed across the flats as they gathered, Rikyn at their center. Roland saw Lena moving about the masses, his gaze automatically gravitating towards her dark form, and he made his way in her direction with a spring in his step. There might have been a time when he would have stood in awe of the deity, felt honoured to be in his presence, but he had grown beyond the teachings of his childhood home; he had learned of, and witnessed, some of their failures and follies, and would be disillusioned no longer. His gaze did not return to the writing in the sky, nor the lingering presence of the Spark God himself. Instead he drew up alongside Lena, reaching out to gently press his nose against her neck in greeting, before he settled his gaze upon their newly crowned Lord.

"Congratulations, Rikyn!


sometimes you even fool yourself a bit
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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
#14
the Ocean’s Light
The ocean Lady swings her head while her lips part in joyous laughter, the sparkling white of her gaze flickering often to her newly-crowned friend, obviously excited for the time that they will be spending together. She has seen nothing from the dark stallion that would cause her to be uncertain of him. Sure, he might not be perfect, but who is?! One of the attributes she admires of him most is his ability to express and own his faults (whether it had been because of a magic stone or not), and his desire to do better.

As far as the Ocean’s Light is concerned, Rikyn will make an extraordinary Lord for the Basin.

Beaming with enthusiasm, she listens to his council about the spies. Given Toulouse’s rather rocky encounters with some of their fellow herd mates, Tiamat is mildly surprised—but nonetheless delighted—that Rikyn suggests the blonde gelding as his successor. “Toulouse is on a little herd quest now to prove his loyalty to the Basin,” the blue mare reassures with a smile, “I think he’ll do well as a Thief.” She gives a final nod, wholly believing in their scarf-embellished comrade (it wouldn’t be her to do anything else).

Realizing only then that they have stumbled into the presence of their patron god, Tiamat is quick to straighten herself, and offer a humble bow to the wise deity. Out of the corner of her eye, she watches as Rikyn accepts his position, stumbling with his words in a way that she has never seen him do before. A chuckle is muffled while her heart glows, perceiving this as bashfulness from the ever-so-clever stallion.

“I’ll do my best—” she can’t help but wink playfully at the new Lord, before she turns again to the Time God, sobering slightly, “whatever is best for this herd.” Tiamat is earnest in this promise, truly loving the mountains and their people. Even as they come to give Rikyn their congratulations—Erebos, with his playfulness, and Weaver, with her teasing, and sweet Lena, with her praise—Tiamat finds her smile growing and beaming ever brighter.

Between the crowd of bodies and the bustle of felicitations, the blue Lady notices the familiar face of the blonde gelding. Leaning her way towards his side, she brushes his shoulder softly in greeting. “Toulouse, my friend! We’ve got a surprise for you as well,” she tells him as her smile quirks demurely, giving him a wink of silent promises and wordless praise, a gift bestowed once Rikyn has had his grandeur. For now, the ocean maiden can’t help but soak in all of the smiles and laughter and well wishes, taking in as much of it as she can.

It doesn’t happen often enough anymore.


notes; Sorry for the wait!
“Speech.”
Somewhere over the rainbow, way up high
there’s a land that I heard of once
in a lullaby.
@Rikyn @Toulouse
please tag Tia in all replies!
magic & force are permitted.

Rikyn the Puppeteer Posts: 549
Aurora Basin Lord atk: 7.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 4.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.3 :: 4 HP: 70 | Buff: SWIFT
Duir :: Royal Cerndyr :: Earth Spirit Bunnie
#15


ЯIKYN


Glad that Tiamat has already sent Toulouse on an errand to prove both his validity and loyalty to our herd, I nod in approval; I also can’t say I don’t hold my own reservations, but I wouldn’t be here now, if people didn’t give the underdog a shot every now and again, right?

Even though my name is written in the sky, and Tiamat has already swept to my side, congratulations on her lips, it doesn’t really sink home that this is happening until the rest come. It’s sort of like a dream, until then, like when I fly through clear skies while sleeping, only to plummet from them at some point, like a stone. That same sensation is lilting through my chest, the easy freedom of flight, and I can’t help but wonder when the fall is going to come.

Except it doesn’t; the opposite occurs, as Erebos arrives, so proud, and happy, expressions I have not seen on him in long enough that it makes an ache bloom to life in my chest that he had ever changed. Though I am filled with trepidation and self doubt, I cannot repress the laughter and the grin which rises to my face at his mocking bow, or the cajoling call of my name alongside my new title. I had done it to him, after all; perhaps it is fitting that I be embarrassed, in turn.

"Ha, please," I jest in turn, a smirk broad and full of cheer spreading across my face, glad to be among my friends, in one of the small droplets of sun-warmed, golden perfection life affords us in the endless river of cold, gray water, "you know I’ll cause her all the problems. Otherwise, we can all assure I am gravely ill."

So when Toulouse, Weaver, Albrecht, Roland, and Lena arrive, all people I think of fondly, my heart lifts even more. I meet the others I do not know as well, or have had rough starts with in no different fashion, with a smile, with excitement, and that same unhidden, splinter of worry in my heart that this is but the beginning of the end for me. Ode (though he says nothing to me, and moves, instead, towards the God), a man I only know from his haunting presence about my blade brother from time to time, and his wraith-like gaze which wanders during gatherings, Oizys, from the Veins, with the foul mouth, and Wessex, who surely had some sort of stick up her ass, but was otherwise fine by me. She was the one who’d left offended as a rain-drenched cat the last we’d met, after all. I had found the interaction quite amusing.

But it’s Lena, tender, ever-present Lena, who strikes the blow to my heart that makes my smile fall, and a somber seriousness rise to the lines of my face. That shadow that has lived inside me since I found my father dead, my distant brother standing over him, our sorrow perhaps the only thing in this life we shared, aside from him, it blooms back to life at the mention of him, and the immediate recollection of his face.

“You were always my greatest creation,” he says in they eye of my memory, as the cool wind pulls through his tangled hair, and love marks every inch of his face; the last I would see him home, where, I believed, anyway, we belonged.

"Thank you," I tell the Time Mender, softly, sincerely, before more sonorously I announce to the rest, "thank all of you."

Smiling at Tiamat and Toulouse, overhearing her mention of a “surprise,” I wiggle my eyebrow at him and laugh, before looking to the God for his words.

[ OOC; promptly dies now ]


call me a safe bet
I'm betting I'm not



Art by VeerDesigns@DA | Table by Me

Tangere Posts: 159
Aurora Basin Medic atk: 5 | def: 9 | dam: 5.5
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15.2hh :: Six Years | Birdsong HP: 63 | Buff: NOVICE
Phrixus :: White Raven :: None Psilo
#16

Sparky’s about.” Her companion’s voice breaks through her thin sleep. A mental chuckle, a laugh shared only between them, floating in the static spaces connecting their thoughts and emotions. The pale raven soars in wide circles above the mare’s cave, calling out, drawing her from the darkness and out into the open. “Oh my,” She sucks in a breath, pondering the pictures before her, the symbols take time to arrange in her thoughts but in seconds she’s decoded it. She’s rather rusty from the lack of ciphering she’s been doing (or not doing) lately. “Ha.” She says this aloud, her heart warming as the statement is digested.

Well I’ll be.” She whispers to herself, to her companion even, but softly and through a forming smile. “Well let’s go then!” Her hazelnut eyes find the circling bird and his enormous shadow floats over stone and moss as he leads the way. She can see the group growing in the distance and for the first time in a very long time she recognizes most of them even at such a distance.

She arrives last, lightly huffing from the lope to reach them. Her rosy nostrils flutter and flex with her breaths while she reaches out for Lena’s shoulder first, then Albrecht’s, her eyes finally settling on Rikyn who seems as surprised and delighted as the rest of them. She nods to him, but in order to remain polite (because things have progressed without her) she nods to him, blinking affectionately – he’ll know it is support meant for him, it is unmistakable in her sparkly wide-eyed gaze.

This is a turning point. Perhaps the Basin will finally drag herself from a dismal hibernation.




Tangere
& Phrixus

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<333 ermerrggerrr



  • You may use violence and magic against her at will, but no death.
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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
#17

TOULOUSE
TINKER SAILOR SOLDIER SAILOR RICH MAN POOR MAN BEGGAR MAN THIEF

The cheer was a kind Toulouse could only assume was one not felt by the weather-worn nordling's in a long time. Hardship had been their day in and out these past months, and while the snake wished he might ease the grief and ache from these lands he knew their trials and tribulations still loomed ahead. Kaos, the deadly force had had encountered not once but twice now since his unmasking was the Basin's new threat - it would only be once this shadow that dulled their mountain, black and cold, was cast wayward that they could truly rejoyce.
The turning of tides and the rise of a new era with the Puppeteer as their leader though - that was one victory they could celebrate.

His sea-coloured eyes danced to his herd-brothers and sisters gathering; Roland, Albrecht, Oizys, Öde and Weaver to name but a few (the rest he did not totally recognise). Strangely, Toulouse felt so much more at home right here and now then he had been anywhere else in such a long time. The Edge had been a poison, always watching over his shoulder, though not here - here he felt as part of the team, the family. This family. It was as he cast his eyes over each one of them, even the one's he didn't know the names of (but had seen in passing) and the one's he'd even got on the wrong side of in the past, that he made an internal wish, an oath, to protect them as he would his own.
They were of his kind; of ice, pine and cold blood.

Next to catch his ears was the song of the sea, her whimsical, lilting voice snagging the attention of his waiting ears with ease. Craning his head towards their Lady, Toulouse allowed her his attention as she called him friend, and mentioned she had a suprise for him. A surprise? for him? What on earth.
His skull leaning back upon his spine, Toulouse's eyes narrowed ever so slightly as his lips twithed wider. "A... surprise?" He uttered, his crooked lips weaving into the most boyish of smiles. It was Rikyns expression, one of dancing brows and smirks that caused the gelding's blood pressure to rise. Spark's beard, what have they done he thought as his eyes took in just that; spark's beard.


YAY!

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


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