the Rift


[PRIVATE] That Which is Lost [TIAMAT]

Random Event Posts: 1,286
Helovian Ancient
Stallion :: Equine :: ::
#1
Random Event
The Isles are a strange place; excluded from the main land, thieved from a foreign land, the jungle riddled islands rise up over reefs, and are filled with secret trails, caverns, and undersea splendors. So numerous are its trails and nooks that, unless one paid careful attention to where they were going and how they placed their hooves, it was easy to become hurt, or lost.

Because of this, however, it was also a good place for things to be intentionally lost, also.

So it was for the Spirit Jar. Not necessarily a creation of Good, or of Wickedness, either, it simply was. What it was, though, was sentient, and powerful, no matter how much like a regular, porcelain vase it might seem, at first glance. Turned on its side, half embedded in the shore and occasionally swallowed up by the ebb and flow of the tide itself, the Spirit Jar was simply biding its time.

For what, though, you might ask; did it seek revenge, or victims? Was its purpose virtuous, or involve the offering of gifts? What would one find, if they were to remove the smooth, white top of the container, and to peer inside the walls of the painted Jar?

Tiamat is soon to find out.

With a clink, the long settled vessel opens – knocked astray by a hoof or a stone, or at long last tousled loose by the ripple of the waves over its face – and with a capricious, peculiar sigh, the high pitched Spirit Jar releases its voice, and a wispy, eager sound of hopeful relief.

"Hello!" it calls out, sounding as if a thousand people call out of its mouth all at once with sing-song voices, in one thousand tongues, but somehow, it is easy to decipher what the Spirit Jar says, "hello! Please, lift me from the sand. I have been here for ever so long."

[ This is a Random Event for Tiamat and those she invites only. ]

how curious
Image Credit

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
#2
Tiamat does not know how much time has passed since she had last come to the Riptide Isles—surely not too long after the Earthen God had brought it into their world. Bypassing the natural bridge that connects the island to the mainland, the sea mare and her companion had opted to travel along the ocean’s floor, ambling slowly against the current, and marveling at the beauty of the reefs and wildlife. Now, having recently resurfaced upon the shoreline, she meanders along the coast.

She has a difficult time controlling her thoughts. This place, while undoubtedly beautiful, harbors dark memories—black memoirs of battle and bloodshed, and of a terrible monster who continues to haunt Helovia with his cruelty. Tiamat does not have it in her glass heart to fault the Helovian Gods, but she can’t help but wonder, if this all could have been avoided?

Slowly releasing her breath, the blue Lady hardly recognizes when her hoof knocks gently against a half-buried jar, or the subsequent, musical clink of its lid sliding open. She is lost in her thoughts, warring between worry and ease.

That is, until a very distinct ‘hello!’ sighs over the ocean waves, reaching for the mare’s attention and effectively grasping her focus. Tiamat lifts her head as her ears rise curiously, tilting and swiveling while her eyes follow, roaming over the pristine (and quite obviously, empty) beauty of the Isle’s shoreline. There is apparently no one else with the Lady and her whale, which causes her sapphire brow to pucker in confusion.

Casting a quizzical glance to her companion, the blue maiden shifts her weight, and calls out in the direction she thought the voice had come from. “Hello? Is someone there?” Her eyes wander over her shoulder, until she catches a glimpse of something shiny and solid embedded within the wet sands. Turning back from where they had come, Tiamat retraces her hoof prints, which inevitably lead her towards a stunning and strange jar. “It couldn’t have been…” the sea mare murmurs between herself and Nimue, almost breathless.

Lowering her head, Tiamat inspects the vase more closely, her warm breath tickling the glassy surface as she hesitates to touch it. “Was it—was it you who called out to me?” She questions the glossy object shyly, trying not to feel foolish.


notes; Aaaaahhh my goodness I'm so excited eee!!! :DD
“Speech.”
From the deep sea of clouds,
to the island of the moon,
Carry me on the waves.

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

Random Event Posts: 1,286
Helovian Ancient
Stallion :: Equine :: ::
#3
Random Event
The Spirit Jar was endlessly used to mortals assuming that it was taller, and also alive, and begins to chuckle at Tiamat the longer that she looks for it on the horizon. Perhaps that is why she finds it at last, and with a sigh of relief, the Jar awaits her aid.

It does not come.

Instead, her warm breath kisses its face, blurs out the myriad animal figures traipsing through the tangled jungle which becomes old growth wood, which becomes new forest and rolling meadows, branching out to hills, rivers, lakes, and the sea. The whole jar is painted with these splendorous scenes of the wilds, and the beasts and men within, nearly every sort of land one can imagine somehow forever painted onto its glossy porcelain sides with a loving hand.

"Of course it was me!" proclaims the many-thousand voices of the Jar, some condemning for her balking disbelief, while others are warm, or accepting, many even gracious for her company, and potential help; all together, however, its not so threatening, this too big for one Jar sonorous speech, even if it is quite weird, "have you seen anyone else buried in the sand about here?"

To be fair, neither could the Jar. It had no eyes. It wasn’t even technically a “someone,” at least not in so far as a talking vase could be, that being why the Spirit Jar was so forced to wait for someone else to come along and help it do more than wait.

"You’d be lucky to find anyone but me," it continues, "I have been here for so very, very long, and no one has ever passed me by… except you."

[ Please tag the Mythical Request account instead of the Random Event! ]
how curious
Image Credit

Tiamat the Ocean's Light Posts: 360
Aurora Basin Lady atk: 8 | def: 10 | dam: 3
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15.2 :: 6 years HP: 60 | Buff: NOVICE
Nimue :: Common Orca Leviathan :: Boil Reli
#4
The mare’s white eyes watch the half-buried jar with growing wonder, tracing the innumerable patterns that dance across its smooth surface, colorful and bright, ebbing and flowing—and so obviously full of life. She has never seen anything like this before! Nimue shares her astonishment, as the little whale lowers her nose to inspect the peculiar vase; the curiosity that courses through their bond helps override any of the hesitation that the Leviathan might have, and together they bask in this wonderful object.

“Of course it was me!”

The myriad of voices speak again, somehow booming and grand without being intimidating. Even so, the ocean pair finds themselves startled, and both of them jump backwards at the jar’s sudden exclamation. Nimue retreats to settle in the comfort beneath her bondmate’s stomach, peering at the object from between Tiamat’s front legs. More inquisitive than anything, the blue mare tilts her head, doe-eyes wide and her lips parting in a silent ‘o’ of amazement.

The colorful, incredible jar continues to speak, its tone seemingly far too large and splendid to fit inside the little glass container. “No—no I haven’t, fortunately,” the ocean Lady manages to respond to its question, her sapphire lips quirking into a crooked smile while awkward laughter laces her words. Stepping forward, she lowers her head again, her dainty ears slanting intently forward when the voice(s) continues, explaining its desolate plight. “That sounds terribly lonely,” Tiamat croons softly, hardly able to fathom what life would be like to be trapped and isolated for so long—how terrible it would be!

“I’d be happy to help you—here, let me see if I can get you loose,” pressing her velvet muzzle against the smooth glass, she begins to—as gently as she can, for fear of cracking the jar—push against it, trying to break up the packed sand that surrounds it. Once the ground is loose enough, Tiamat uses the very tip of a cloven hoof to get as far under the vase as she can, and then works it upward. Before long, she is able to reach down and place her teeth gently around the jar’s lid, lift it, and set it down right-side-up on the beach.

Wanting to help somehow, Nimue softly brushes off the sand from where it had been buried. “There you go!” Tiamat smiles, pleased with their work, and hopes that the jar approves as well. “If you don’t mind me asking,” she lowers her head to its level, peering curiously at its vibrant, shifting surface, “What are you? Other than a jar, I mean. Were you here when these islands were in the Rift?” Her ears splay to the side, a little embarrassed and afraid of offending the jar for asking.


“Speech.”
From the deep sea of clouds,
to the island of the moon,
Carry me on the waves.

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

Random Event Posts: 1,286
Helovian Ancient
Stallion :: Equine :: ::
#5
Random Event

The jar was glad that the one who had found it was so good natured; she listened to it with both ears lifted (though the vase could not truly see, as things with eyes did, it still knew she was focused upon it), and even empathized with its predicament. This was something that had never once happened to the Spirit Jar in all its countless years of existence. Those who fetched it from wherever the water, wind, or various beings which carried it last had laid it to rest were most often too preoccupied with what they could get from such an obviously magical thing. They never bothered to consider what such an existence must be like at all.

"It truly is," solemnly says the many voiced thing, in response, as Tiamat begins to do as it has asked.

Retrieving it from the sand most gently, and brushing away the granules of sand which covered its painted surface, the blue mare and her whale are regarded most warmly by the entity which she frees. With a musical clink it formulates an answer to her question; one which the jar has been asked too many times to remember precisely how many that was.

"I am the Spirit Jar, a holder of souls and magical energies…but I do not know where I am from," it answers, some wariness to be heard among the many voices lilting through the salty air. So many had fled after hearing of its true nature, to leave it alone, at the whim of the earth again, before ever being told the rest of its true purpose. "do not worry, though. They all want to be with me, and it was their choice. Don’t they seem happy to you?"

As it asks, the figures painted along its sides begin to move in place, as if running, turning their heads to watch the birds flap their wings overhead, or glancing over their shoulders at the rustle of other things in the gently swaying forest behind them. They all seem at peace, as the vase promises, but it certainly does not answer why they are there.


how curious
Image Credit

@Tiamat


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