the Rift


[PRIVATE] You Don't know the Psychopath Sitting Next to You

Mortuus Nox Posts: 187
Aurora Basin Time Mender atk: 3.5 | def: 10 | dam: 7
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 15.2 :: Immortal HP: 66.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Dressy
#1
Mortuus Nox

The beast moved slowly in his cave. The flicker of the fire was the only thing that showed a glimmer of light on this dark night. The moon hid behind the blanket of clouds. When midnight strikes, the beasts come out to play. The demons howl, and the monsters are lurking in the shadows. Snarls of creatures filled the night sky trying to lure animals from their cave. They screamed come play with me. Gray, cold eyes looked from the mouth of the cave. His gaze was dead and stone like as he watched over the land. Blood dripped to the ground and started to from puddles on the ground near his cracked hooves. The demon did not bat an eyelash at the stinging pain engulfing his whole body. It was rather normal for the man to feel like at night in the Basin. Crimson puddles of blood stained the cave floor, causing it to carry an eerie spattered pattern. If one did not know the beat, it would look as if a murder took place in his home. Iron filled his velvet nostrils, and coagulated blood formed below him. Nox shook his tangled mane stepping away from his cave.

The black webs of his tresses mated together with the warm liquid leaking from his scars. His tail drug the ground behind him in an eerie ghostly manner. His body drug through the Basin like a zombie. Mortuus was a walking shell to the outer world. His emotions were absent, he was numb to pain, expression never fell upon his face. He was absent and stuck in hell. The demons in his mind left him, and they no longer bothered the beast, but he was still troubled. Nox let very few people know about why he is so corrupt. Tiamat knew every inch of his blackened heart. She was the only one who saw the real side of the troubled beast.

Demonic horns curved towards the sky in an ominous manner as he lowered his skull to the hot springs. With a deep breath of steam, a small raindrop fell from the blackened sky. It rolled off his back and absorbed the iron liquid. Then the clouds began to cry tears for the beast below. The cold drops mixed with the blood and dropped to the grass below his massive body. Muscles tensed with the slight feeling of relief, but there was none. The rain soon started to feel like acid burning the open wounds. Nox gritted his teeth looking into the black water. If only he could just end it all...He sometimes wished he could just die like the others; Maybe, just maybe then he would then know what it is like to live.

OOC:: It is a couldy night so Nox is bleeding from scars all over his body

“Talk.”
Anyone can Die
Only a few live forever

image | coding


@Weaver

Please tag Mortuus Nox in all posts
magic & permanent injury is permitted excluding death.

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
#2

ask no questions

Weaver has never been one for sleeping much. She does sleep, of course, it’s a necessary thing for survival. But she sleeps as little as possible, preferring to prowl through the evenings, just in case something exciting happens. Most of the Basin seems to end up in some cave or another, nowhere to be found at night, but Weaver prefers to wander. To study the stars when the nights are slow, or try to find the places and the times when she can actually fly over the mountain (basically impossible, but she tries anyway). She has, on occasion, managed to slingshot herself around in the wind, which is possibly the most fun thing, but she doesn’t make a habit of it.

When she does rest, she usually stays beneath Raven’s favorite tree. He rarely likes going into caves, though on occasion he’ll follow her into the cave near his tree. But she prefers to stay with Raven, and some evenings, she simply joins him in his nest, the two snuggling in together for an uncommon evening of sleep. But tonight she is wide awake, and even Raven is restless, so they both set off, Weaver sticking to horse form for now. She’s not sure what their plan is for the night. Perhaps some more mountain flying. In the rain. She’s had stupider ideas…

But then, she catches sight of another horse by the hot springs. He’s black, and the only thing that gives her a clue is the gleam of green. Mortuus. She’d assume it’s him between the black coat and the green gem on his horn. But something seems different, she just can’t make out what from this far away. So she makes her way over, curious, wondering if someone else was here and just happened to look a hell of a lot like the Time Mender.

As she closes the distance, she quickly see’s it’s definitely Mortuus. And what’s different becomes obvious as well. He bleeds freely from cuts all along his body, and for a moment she finds herself vaguely worried, which is a strange emotion at best for her. She pauses, but Raven fills the silence, cawing in the direction of the Time Mender. He’d heal himself if he needed, wouldn’t he?

“Mortuus?” she says, her voice uncharacteristically quiet, though perhaps it’s just because she doesn’t want to disturb the peace of the evening. But it’s hardly a peaceful evening with the rain pattering against the ground, the sky threatening to open up on the only two crazies out in weather like this. “This is probably a stupid question,” she begins, sounding more like herself, “but are you okay?”

- weaver -

and you'll be told no lies

Image | Quote by Charles Dickens


@Mortuus Nox

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

Mortuus Nox Posts: 187
Aurora Basin Time Mender atk: 3.5 | def: 10 | dam: 7
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 15.2 :: Immortal HP: 66.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Dressy
#3
Mortuus Nox

His demonic skull twisted and turned to see a figure walking towards him. She was angelic with heavy wings at her side, and her long mane and tail swept along the ground. Gray, cold eyes froze upon the figure until he was finally to place a name with the face. Weaver, the girl who was so captivated with poisons and hallucinogenics. Her perfect form swayed and floated next to the beats side. She was everything he was not. Most ladies in the Basin were like that. Well, almost everyone he met was like that. He was so different than so many that called Helovia their home. Most came from rich families that called themselves queens and kings. He was not from anything along the lines of that. He was born into the satanic ways; he was not pure or good in any way, shape, or form. Nox was a beast, a monster, a demon, a king of Hell. His heart was black and empty; he felt no emotions of empathy for others. How do you explain that? How do you get someone to understand the void of emotions that he felt? You DON'T. That was the thing about him. The beast was empty and just a walking shell. Tiamat slightly understood this trait of his, but she did not REALLY understand it.

His eyes looked back into the paint mares. They were dead and hazed over like a corpse eyes would be. Coldness filled every inch of them as blood dripped from his face. Rain diluted the crimson substance and blended across his body. Light red drops fell from every inch of his blackened pelt. Curved demon horns raised from their lowered position to look across the spring. “My dear Weaver there is no such thing as a stupid question. .” He almost half smiled, but there was no warmth within the curves of his lips. “I am fine if that is what you would like to call it. I would not say I am okay. Please do not worry about these scars. The bleeding will stop eventually as long as the storms clear.” Moving his heavy neck the beast turned to look at the woman. His blackened mane twisted and tangled with drops of rain and blood.

Slowly his cracked hooves moved and turned his heavly muscled body. Turning away from the steaming body of water, the beast looked towards his cave. It flickered with a flame of light deep within. Gray, cold eyes looked back towards the woman as thunder roared through the mountains. Lighting struck the peak of one of the mountains with vicious cries of light and electricity. Flames roared from the dead tree, and smoke started to cloud the air above it. The rain pounded against his bleeding pelt stinging the open wounds. “Would you like to come with me to my cave. We should not be staying out here too long.” Cracked hooves began to walk towards his home in the rocks and mountain. He moved like a zombie dragging its body across the land. Shoulders tensed and relaxed as his rear legs heaved his heavy body towards home. It did not take long to reach the shelter of his blood stained cave. His blackened, damp body shook the excess rain and blood before, entering and drying off near the fire. Gray eyes looked for the paint mare to see if she would follow.

OOC:: Feel free to have her talk in the cave if you wish, so they aren't in the storm for to log!! :) I am soo happy to finally thread them!! <3


“Talk.”
Anyone can Die
Only a few live forever

image | coding


@Weaver

Please tag Mortuus Nox in all posts
magic & permanent injury is permitted excluding death.

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
#4

ask no questions

The thought works in reverse too. He is everything she is not. He is, perhaps, a demon. But he is one that seems to care enough for others to heal them. To learn about herbs and pass that knowledge on in an effort to actually aid others. Weaver doesn’t fight because she can use her skills to protect others. Sure, she does protect when the need arises, but simply because to fight is in her nature. She fights because she loves it, because she wants to be strong and powerful and so much more than she is now. She does not care enough to heal others, to worry what he words might do (usually, anyway, though that is changing here). She does not care about much, really, except the things that suit her.

Sure, she is the daughter of a Queen. Sure, she holds herself like a princess should. But she has few advantages, and her beauty is something to be wielded like a weapon. She knows how to use it just as well as he knows how to kick and bite. Though she doesn’t wield it now, though she knows no other way to move, no other way to be. But her armor and her weapons are herself, ands he cannot shed that.

“There are definitely such things as stupid questions,” she replies with that Cheshire grin. There are totally stupid questions in the world, lots of them. Including the one she just asked. But then again, what exactly do you say when you spy someone bleeding profusely and seeming entirely unconcerned about it? It’s not like you can just ignore it. Or maybe you can ignore it, but she’s not that type. “I do imagine it can’t storm forever, at least.”

His eyes turn to a cave where flames flicker, lightening blotting out the sight of the cave momentarily. It’s a hell of a storm. She doesn’t concern herself with it. Dying by lightning would at least be an experience, but when he ask if she’ll go home with him, she can’t help but grin wider. “But we hardly know each other Mortuus. What kind of girl do you think I am?”

She laughs, thunder drowning out the sound. But she’s already following him, heading to the cave. When they get there, she’s glad for the break from the pounding rain. Raven is a sulky, huddled mass on her back. He has never been a fan of the rain, and though he’d been restless, he’d quickly realized that being soaked was even less fun. He shakes the water from him onto Weaver instead, and then hops down from her back and glides toward the fire to try and dry himself, staying just far enough away to avoid getting himself burnt instead.

“So…what’s up with the bleeding then?” She has no way with words. She is blunt and to the point, and since he say’s he’s fine, she’s moved on to curious. He bleeds like a corpse, and she wonders if he’s like her. She wonders if he traverses the worlds like she does, or if he simply can’t die at all. But maybe it’s none of those things, maybe it’s something she’d never even think of.

- weaver -

and you'll be told no lies

Image | Quote by Charles Dickens


@Mortuus Nox

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

Mortuus Nox Posts: 187
Aurora Basin Time Mender atk: 3.5 | def: 10 | dam: 7
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 15.2 :: Immortal HP: 66.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Dressy
#5
Mortuus Nox

The girls remark was something that the beast expected out of her. A smile almost cracked at the edge of his blackened maw. To his pleasant surprise the woman followed him into the blood stained cave. Gray eyes watched the storm worsen outside of the small rock surrounded home. His body glowed with the flickering light of the warm tones from the fire. His mind went back to her question that she asked outside. what kind of girl do you think I am? A heavy sigh left his maw “I think you are the kinda girl who does not put up with any bull shit. I feel like you hide a softer side of your self behind a stone like exterior, but what do I know? I am just a Time Mender, a broken soul, and as some say a creep.” His voice chuckled slightly looking back to the woman.

The small black bird shook the water from his feathers onto the painted girls back. His eyes would have lightened if there was any joy or happiness left in his heart. He had a soft spot for companions. Nox was never lucky enough to obtain one himself. Weavers voice broke his concentration. The girl was asking about the bleeding. It was a good question and only those who cared enough would care to ask. Looking to the stone ground his eyes followed the drops of crimson liquid.They ran down his legs and body, and trickled across the features of his face. “It is a curse. You know how some around here are blessed with a magic that allows them to walk on water, change colors, and grow plants where they walk? I am not so lucky. This curse is something that runs in the family. It is a spell that the devil himself conjured. Decades ago my grandfather made a deal with a demon. He wanted to live forever, and he wanted his family to live forever. So the deal was made. My family could live forever, but it was at a cost. Every cures was different. I suffer from bleeding cuts on every cloudy night. When the night's are clear the scars glow .” His stone gray eyes looked deep within the fire. Then once he was done he looked back to the mare. “I am sorry to ramble on. Tell me Weaver, if you can. How does it feel to know that you could die? I have been to hell and seen the fire inferno, but I always get dragged back to life. I feel like a shell trapped on this earth forever. ” His dead eyes fell back to the storm that brewed outside. Heavy demonic horns lowered to push another log into the fire. Nox yearned to know what the feeling of death was like. He lived every day knowing that death could not knock at his door step. The soul trapped within his body grew with age, but his body remained young. Years meshed into days, and everything felt the same. Others could never understand what it felt like to know you were trapped here forever, while everyone passed on. His soul was sold to the devil, his heart was black and cold. No one ever understood him, no one tried to understand him. Tiamat tried her best, but the sweet girl did not understand that the beast was bound to hell. No matter what he did.

OOC:: Shit gets DEEP


“Talk.”
Anyone can Die
Only a few live forever

image | coding


@Weaver

Please tag Mortuus Nox in all posts
magic & permanent injury is permitted excluding death.

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
#6

ask no questions

Weaver is rather predictable, which is fine. She doesn’t have some goal of being mysterious or hard to read, though she would like to keep that soft side buried. It’s a rare enough moment that she’s got a soft side at all, and she chooses who sees it. Though Erebos might disagree entirely that she’s soft at all. Her version of caring is still steely, sharpened enough to hurt, a version of caring that really doesn’t fit the mold. So, Mortuus isn’t wrong, but at the same time, she’s not very soft and squishy, but she does care for more things that she would ever admit. If your enemies know what you know, if they know your heart, they can hurt far more than a blade ever can.

“If you’ve figured all that out so easily, clearly I’m not hiding anything well,” she says, that playful tone still in her voice. He is, for some reason, one of the ones she cares about. Why he’s made the list, she couldn’t quite say. Yes, he gives her drugs, but her reasons are less petty than that, even if she’ll never admit it aloud. There’s more to him than that, something good and something horrible all at once, like her. “I like creeps,” she adds, like it’s really no big deal. Of course he’s a creep, he bleeds like the dead, but she’s not running away.

She moves closer to the fire, refraining from shaking the water off herself since this is not her home. Raven had already been a terrible guest, though he’d done a rather fantastic job of shaking most of the water onto her, but still, she didn’t want to then shake it all onto the ground. They were already dripping enough of it, and he was trailing plenty of blood into the puddles on the floor. The flames reflect off both of them, and there’s something beautiful and eerie about the moment, his deep voice fitting in the setting. She listens, dropping the Cheshire grin and the playful attitude as he speaks, offering the respect his story deserves.

He is like her, but worse. She has always valued the knowledge that one day, one day Death would greet her as an old friend and take her gently. One day, she would stay in his realm just as she should. Now though, she can live without fear, can take risks others cannot take. For her, it is a blessing, a gift, but she can understand how he feels on some level. She would never want to keep coming back past her time, would never want to live in this world long past her time. One lifetime was enough.

She laughs, but it’s not her usual laugh, it’s something softer and understanding and knowing. “I am not the best to answer that question. Well, no, perhaps I am. When I was young,” she begins, as if she is not still young, but she’d been barely a year then, “I faced the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse when they threatened our home. Four of us bear their seals now, and I, giving myself willing to Death to stop him, bear his.” She nods to the blue rune that sits on her chest. It doesn’t glow, doesn’t look remarkable in any real way, but she’d died to earn it. “I’ve only ever made it so far as the River, but I have no way to cross. Not yet. One day though, old age will find me and I will cross that river willingly, and that ability is a gift I cherish But I cannot be killed, and I bear the scars from every death, though they are merely scars.”

She has far more scars that deaths. The first death came with no scars, just the gentle touch of Death. The second left her bruised and battered and broken, and she wears little scars all across her body from that one. She wears many others though from her battles, gashes where the hair grows white if at all, marking her story for all to see. “Perhaps you can strike a new deal. If the devil made one once before, perhaps he will make one again. There is always a way to die. What good are you to Death here, after all?”

- weaver -

and you'll be told no lies

Image | Quote by Charles Dickens


<3333
@Mortuus Nox

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

Mortuus Nox Posts: 187
Aurora Basin Time Mender atk: 3.5 | def: 10 | dam: 7
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 15.2 :: Immortal HP: 66.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Dressy
#7
Mortuus Nox

Cold eyes watched the companion. It warmed his heart slight to see the little creature. As Weaver commented back, he chuckled lightly at her remark. “Dear, you are a bit harder to read than most. I just have been doing it for centuries. Some people read like a sweet book. Others Read like an ancient Latin book, but I speak Latin, so the translation is a bit easier for me. ” His demonic voice chuckled slightly filling the cave with rumbles from hell. His attention strayed away for a moment before she caused a lighter chuckle from his chest. I like creeps. His brow raised slightly looking upon her feminine features. A smirk formed in the corners of his maw.

She answers his question, but it was not the typical answer. The girl was honest, and his head nodded listening to what she had to say. Cold gray eyes watched the fire rumbled and burned. Its appetite was hungry tonight, and it demanded another log. Lifting his cracked hoof the beast pushed another log into the fire. “Your story is intriguing. You went through all that as a child. I wish I could tell you what old age is like. Hell, on the other hand, is more pleasant than most think. Maybe I get lucky because I am a lifeless demon. My life was sold before I was born. The Devil treats me well. When I see him again, I will make sure to put in a good word for you.” He let a chuckle out to lighten the mood in the cave. The darkened beast was not all doom and gloom ( well in his own way).

He watched the companion once again and turned to the back of the blood stained cave. Hooves clicked against the blood-splattered floor, and gray eyes looked for something. With a small mumbled the beast pulled out a cloth that was tied with something. Walking back over to the painted mare, Nox sat it on the ground. When he pulled on the string, the cloth opened to reveal sunflower and pumpkin seeds. “Are you hungry little friend? Please help yourself.” He motioned towards Raven the cold dead eyes looked back to Weaver. “ There is a way for me to die... Death has been chasing me for years, but Satan is not ready for me yet. He will not allow it to happen. .” His tone was stoned over and cold. He was beaten and worn from his time on earth, but it was not time yet. Black demonic horns turned to look out the cave as blood dripped from his face. Then turning the zombie-like gaze back to Weaver the beast spoke again. “Please make yourself comfortable. The fire is already drying the ground. If you are cold, please use the wolf pelt to warm up .” The green gem in his horn gleamed in the light of the fire as he pointed to the wolf pelt on the wall.




“Talk.”
Anyone can Die
Only a few live forever

image | coding


@Weaver

Please tag Mortuus Nox in all posts
magic & permanent injury is permitted excluding death.

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

Raven is not entirely oblivious to the fact Mortuus watches him, and Raven flicks a beady eye in the stallion’s direction now and again. He’s not entirely sure what to make of the Time Mender, perhaps because his bonded isn’t entirely sure what to make of the Time Mender either. He’s more than she’d expect from his title and outward appearance, and she suspects there’s a lot more to his story that he’s not talking about. Raven knows that she likes him, that she has an ease with him she does not always have with others. Not that Weaver doesn’t have a certain type of ease with everyone, but she does, but it’s different here. Mortuus doesn’t seem likely to judge her, not really.

“Do you literally speak Latin, or only figuratively?” she asks with a quirk of her head. If he really was centuries old, perhaps he actually does speak Latin. Not that she does, and they won’t be having conversations in a dead language, but she’s curious. It’s an easy enough way to poke into his story without scratching some more at those already bleeding wounds. Yes, she’s nice enough to think about something like that. She thinks about it always, she just usually stop herself from ripping off scabs.

He pushes another log onto the fire, the wood crackling and sparks flying from the flames. Raven caws, wings spreading in shock as he hops back, away from the flames. Weaver only laughs at him, amused, because nothing was close enough to hurt him. She pays as much to that as he does, knowing there’s no way to replace him if she loses him again. Once was enough, and she doesn’t feel like going without him again.

“When I get old and gray and all wrinkly, I’ll let you know how much it sucks,” she says with a bit of a grin, though in truth, she doesn’t really mean it. Yes, being old will totally suck, but she still has no desire to live forever. She wants to live once, to burn impossibly bright, and to leave the world charred in her wake. She cannot live that way forever. “I appreciate the good word,” though she already knows that her God, in the end, will be Death. Perhaps they are the same, but she doesn’t think so. Death is her friend, and he is kind, even though so many don’t realize it.

Raven caws in a pleased thanks, ruffling his feathers because the stallion paid attention to him now, offered him food. He drops his beak to pick at the seeds, settling on a nice large pumpkin one to nibble at. Raven forgets all about the fire and the horses, hopping about around the seeds, eating a few, stuffing a few into his feathers like he could save them there for later. Little hoarder, she thinks at him, though he can’t read her thoughts like that yet. He’s still too young for speech, but he seems to get her sentiment and glares at her for a moment before going back to his food.

Nox keeps talking, saying there is a way for him to die. She’s familiar with that concept, being able to die without growing old, but she never speaks of that way. She doesn’t intend to die until she’s damn well good and ready. Weaver cocks her back foot, appearing to settle in, almost leaning against the cave wall as he tells her to settle in. She’s plenty comfortable though physically, it’s more that she’s been politely keeping her big mouth somewhat shut. But, more serious now, like she’s taken his invitation to heart. “Perhaps, one day, if we are both ready we can meet our maker together.” Perhaps it wouldn’t work out that way, but it’s like an invitation, like saying she would take him with her if he asked. “Also, where did you get a wolf pelt? Aren’t we supposed to befriend them?” The seriousness is gone again, back to her usual playful grin, the mischievous sparkle in her amber eyes. Serious never does last very long with Weaver.

- weaver -

and you'll be told no lies

Image | Quote by Charles Dickens


@Mortuus Nox

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

Mortuus Nox Posts: 187
Aurora Basin Time Mender atk: 3.5 | def: 10 | dam: 7
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 15.2 :: Immortal HP: 66.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Dressy
#9
Mortuus Nox
Raven was unsure of the darkened beast. Why would he not be? Nox was a beast a monster of the depths. Darkness, depression, evil, and so many other things fill his heart. There were so many levels to the demon he did not want even to start thinking about it. His outward appearance spoke for its self. Years and years of scars and killing showed themselves on his pelt. Maybe, this was his punishment for killing so many others. God scared the beast to make him unattractive, get him to seem less desirable to others. It all worked. No mare would even throw a glance of care and compassion in his direction. He was not talking about the friendly type of compassion. He was talking about the love side of the word. Who could ever love this monster, this beast that has deemed his resting place the netherworld? The real question is could he every love anyone again? Nox was unsure if he could ever give himself to a woman again.

His thoughts slipped back to reality when Weaver asked if he spoke Latin. An eerie smile fell onto the features of his face. Nodding his head slightly, the beast spoke with heavy thick tones.
" Ita Latine loqui possum cari liciatorium texentium.” His voice echoed against the cave walls has he looked down to the small Raven enjoying the seeds. “In English, that means, Yes Dear Weaver I can speak Latin. I know it is a dead language, but my family spoke it when I was growing up. They learned for the demon that my grandfather sold his soul too. I guess the bastard though it might be helpful. ” He chuckled brightly rolling his eyes.

The girl jokes and tells the beast she let him know what it is like to get old. Her tones are sweet against his ears. Emotionless eyes hide the feelings that the girl gives him. Nox was unsure what to think about this woman. Weaver was so different than others. The complexity of her personality intrigued the hell bound stud. Nodding his head words dripped from his maw like blood “I am sure you will be as beautiful as you are now, but thank you for the offer. I appreciate it. It might sound odd, but thank you.” His tone lightened with a chuckle. " I am glad little Raven is happy with the seeds. I was going to plant them in spring, but he looked hungry. I can always find more.”

His heart was much bigger, then he allowed it to appear to strangers. Nox cared about others ( sometimes ). A lot of death will do that to a person. Weaver finally starts to make herself comfortable. Smiling softly, Nox looked away from the beautiful curves of her body. Glazed over orbs watched the fire burn. When her voice echoed through the stone walls, his heavy crown lifted to look at her once again. Her painted body leaned against the walls. She was a beautiful creature he had to admit that, but no... Shaking his skull, the thoughts left his mind. Falling for a girl again would be difficult. Tiamat made the beast feel like he will forever be locked in the friend zone. Her words were kind. Sweet tones reached his ears, and the hardened exterior washed away for a split second. “You would do that for me? I.. couldn't do that to you... It is not as simple as a knife to the heart, or a slit throat.” A sigh left his maw looking away. If the girl were going to take him with her, she would have to decapitate the demonic beast. Shaking his skull, he could not help but laugh a bit lighter about the wolf pelt. “The pelt is enchanted and protects me against dark magic. It is the hide of the Wolf-god. It came from the Rift, the place Kaos is from. The moon God gave it to me as a gift for helping her fight the beast. I probably should not wear it around the wolves that are in the Basin, should I? They might think I killed their brother, that would not be good for the herd quest.” He chuckled lightly. “You were not around for the Rift Battles were you? ”

“Talk.”
Anyone can Die
Only a few live forever

image | coding


@Weaver

Please tag Mortuus Nox in all posts
magic & permanent injury is permitted excluding death.

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
#10

ask no questions

If he thought he was unlovable, he’s simply met the wrong mares. Blood and scars don’t exactly turn Weaver off. She’s littered with her own scars, and though they don’t bleed openly once healed, she’s no stranger to blood. She’d been covered in her own blood and that of others many times, and certainly will again. There’s something primal about it, really, the truth of what lies beneath pretty (or not so pretty) flesh. What else is primal? Maybe not monogamous love, but certainly the more fun kind of love is about as primal as you can get. Alright, so maybe she lacks care and compassion in her gaze entirely, but that should not necessarily be mistaken.

The question of course is if she’s capable of anything more than being the love ‘em and leave ‘em type. She’s never thought about it, never had reason to think about it, can’t really imagine a world in which she could be with just one stallion. Even her mother hadn’t done that, though she’d cared more for her father than the stallion that sired her brothers. Warship had been a relationship that existed out of need and duty, not want. Weaver existed for desire and power and want, and she embodied all the things that made her far too well sometimes.

Raven caws, suddenly interested, as Mortuus talks, the language foreign to Weaver’s ears. She eyes Raven, the bird’s keen eyes staring at Nox like he understands. Hell, maybe he does. Ravens are old and clever things, and perhaps they speak Latin as the demons do. Ravens are well known in tales as being connected to the Underworld, and she wonders just how true that is. “I’m not sure it counts as dead, if you are speaking it.” She suspects Raven might speak it back if they could talk through their bond, but alas, that little skill left them when they came here, when she lost Raven briefly.

She laughs at the next comment, tossing her mane to illustrate a point. “Oh, I will undoubtedly still be beautiful when old and gray and wrinkled. It’s all about the attitude, after all.” Mostly about the attitude, anyway, because there were some horses that were just too ugly to ever pass for anything else. Most of life though was all about the attitude you wore on your sleeve – act like you own the place, and all that. “He is always hungry,” she adds, rolling her eyes dramatically toward her companion who just glares back at her before eating another seed, very pointedly. “I’m sure he’d be happy to help you find more seeds.” Raven caws, and it’s hard to be sure if it’s in protest or agreement, though she thinks both – protest to her, agreement to Nox who was kind enough to feed him. She can only imagine what he’d say to her if he could. Maybe it’s good they don’t talk.

Her amber eyes find him as he asks the next question. You would do that for me? Her look is hard to ready, like she’s studying him and like she doesn’t know how he can be so surprised all at once. For a moment, she’s silent, not sure if she lists all the horrible things she has done and seen and been a party to, if she keeps it short and sweet and to the point. “I would do it without hesitation for you,” she finally says, all her usual pomp gone from her voice. The statement is simple and uncomplicated, without a list of reasons or things that might be worse. Even if she had done nothing compared to what it takes to kill him, she would grant him that.

Why?

It’s a question she’s not sure she can answer, or wants to answer. He’s her favorite Time Mender (really, he’s just her favorite), and she leaves the thought unexplored, chalking it up to the drugs he supplies her. Though would she damn her own soul for drugs (assuming, of course, she hadn’t already damned her soul for everything else she’s done and will do)?

“No, though Rikyn told me a bit about them. It seems entirely possible I will be here for Rift Wars II though,” she says it lightheartedly, though she lets her eyes betray her. It took a year to find a place that seemed worth settling in, and now, she had no idea what might become of them. The threat of Kaos loomed all too real. “Though in the interest of our herd quest and getting us some badass wolf guardians, you should probably keep that thing hidden away in here.” Gods only knew they might need some wolf guards too.

- weaver -

and you'll be told no lies

Image | Quote by Charles Dickens


@Mortuus Nox <33333

Please tag in all posts
Magic use/power playing is okay, but check before serious injury/death
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Mortuus Nox Posts: 187
Aurora Basin Time Mender atk: 3.5 | def: 10 | dam: 7
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 15.2 :: Immortal HP: 66.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Dressy
#11
Mortuus Nox

His gaze did not pick up on the girl looking at him. Blood still dripped from this wounds and his body. The storm felt like it was going to continue forever. The thunder roared, and lightning struck a mountainside. His cold gaze looked to the flashing world outside of his cave. A low rumble of thunder bellowed its last cry. Then it was gone leaving the dampened land below in despair. The features on his face brightened slightly as the silver light of the moon began to peek through the clouds. The bleeding just stopped. Not one more ounce of crimson liquid dripped from his body. The Menders body acted as if nothing was wrong. Now instead of bleeding wounds, the scars glowed with a ghostly light. His heavy skull looked over the dense muscles that held an eerie iridescent tone.

He was curious to see what Weaver would say about this. She was so unique and so different from the other mares he has met. There was an alluring charm that radiated off her painted bodice “You seem to find a little tiny light in things. Most would just agree it is dead and no one speaks it anymore.” He chuckles brightly as his eyes dance towards Raven. The little bird is happily munching away on the seeds. He noticed that the little guy looked at him when he spoke in Latin. Weaver continues to speak, and his head raises to look at the radiant woman. “Attitude plays a key role, but you have natural beauty. Weaver you do not have to try at all to be beautiful.” He winked as he looked back out to the clear night sky. “Et non invenient mihi semina? Hoc modo, iterum cum visitare non erit amplius” Maybe the little bird would understand him, maybe he wouldn't, it was worth a shot.

Her gaze turns odd, he was unable to read what she was thinking. This must be what it is like to look at himself. Nox quietly waited for her response. He would not expect someone to show him the kindness and compassion they would to others. The brute felt like it was his punishment to be stuck here. It was punishment for killing his mother, his brother, his father, his mate, her child, and HIM. He wondered how it felt to die. How much pain were they going through, how much fear they had? It was a question that one day he might be able to find the answer too. The keyword is might. Weaver's answer shocks him. She will kill him if that is what he wanted. The beast looked to the ground stained with dried blood. “Thank you... I know it sounds odd due to the circumstances, but Thank you, Weaver.” His thick accented words dripped from his maw. He wanted to reach out and touch her, but he didn't. The beast just lowered his demonic crown to look at the fire. Nox was unsure how to handle this feeling that he got from her. It was something that hid deep within his blackened heart. Pale eyes tried to shrug away the little bit of emotion, but the stone wall cracked. Mixed feelings leaked through his facial expression. Confusion, happiness, sadness, and something else, but that is to be explained on another day.

“I would start preparing for the worse. I feel like this Kaos guy is no joke, but I am sure you are aware of that. A strong Corporal dose does not need advice from a mere Time Mender. ” He chuckled brightly, but there was truth in his words. She does not need his advice. The woman is powerful and strong. Gray eyes shifted to the wolf pelt. “Well I guess if you say so. I won't go running around the mountains pretending to be the all mighty wolf hunter. We need some protection because the Sentinels are just a chunk of history now. ” His voice was sarcastic and joking as he began to walk to the front of the cave. His blackened form glowed with eerie gray marks. The moon illuminated the features of his face as he looked out the mouth of his den. “It is a beautiful night now that the storms are gone. Look how the moon glows against the hot spring. It is almost haunting how peaceful it is. ”

“Talk.”

Translation:: Will you help me find seeds? That way when you visit again I will have more
Anyone can Die
Only a few live forever

image | coding


OOC:: OMGG I love this so much <3 getting him all in his feelings

@Weaver

Please tag Mortuus Nox in all posts
magic & permanent injury is permitted excluding death.

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

The storm finally relents. Raven picks his head up from the seed as it does, itching as he so often does to take off into the night. She can sense his eagerness through their bond, but her amber eyes are trained on Nox, on the way his body just stops bleeding as soon as the sky stops throwing a temper tantrum. More than that, he starts glowing. A Cheshire grin splits her lips and she pushes herself up from her place against the wall and comes to join him, hooves moving through his pools of blood like they aren’t even there, standing perhaps just a hair too close to the Time Mender. If she notices she’s too close, she doesn’t show it, and the move is either deliberate or she’s obvious to personal space. For anyone that knows her well enough though, they’d know she’s obvious to very little. “You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?” she teases, though there’s some truth to those words. There was far more than meets the eye with him.

His next comment almost takes her off guard, though she doesn’t let the shock creep into her carefully painted face. “Funny thing, for a girl who lives in darkness to find the light.” If she was being honest, it made some sense though. She’d fought her whole life, and though she loved it, love of fighting in and of itself was not enough reason to fight. At least, it was not reason enough to fight when she put her life on the line for others, which was mostly fine because she was damn hard to kill. However, she could die in battle, though she kept that method under lock and key in her own mind. There was a possibility that in those instances, she would simply die for someone she barely knew. For that and that alone, she had to find something worthwhile in this world.

At his next comment, she lets her mask drop just a bit, her eyes studying him. She says nothing, entirely incapable of taking a compliment. She was self-assured and full of personality all the time, until now. She doesn’t know how to navigate these waters, where they tread too close to something real and beautiful and terrifying. She is saved, thankfully, by a caw from Raven as Mortuus turns his attention to the bird, speaking what she assumes is Latin at her companion. Raven seems to understand, bobbing his head once in a strange sort of agreement.

“It doesn’t sound odd,” she says when he thanks her. She understands that dying is a blessing, in its own way. She is uniquely lucky not to fear it, really. Most fear it and those that don’t simply do not die at all. Weaver sits in a strange in-between, and she can tell Mortuus all about what it’s like to die and what it’s like to live again. Sometimes death hurts like a mother, and sometimes it’s peaceful and beautiful, like a wonderful night’s sleep. She’s died more than one, after all, and is quickly becoming an expert.

She follows him to the front of the cave. Raven caws, hopping between her legs until he’s out in the open, taking off into the silver night sky. He soars in front of them, dotting her vision with wings outspread, cawing again. “I think Raven agrees that it is a beautiful night,” she says with a laugh, and it’s strangely light for her. Still, she is close to him. It would be easy to brush against his skin, but she doesn’t, keeping just a breath of space between them. “I suppose I should join him before he gets himself killed. Keep your wolf pelt with you though. In these times, you never know when you might need it. Best advice a Corporal can give you.”

She winks at him slightly, amber eyes casting a sideways glance to him before she shifts. Bones and flesh tear and reform and the pain, like always, is impossible. Weaver is an impossible girl though, and she can live with the pain. She takes off, swooping in front of the cave, showing off as she loops around with the ease that comes from flying as raven. “And Mortuus,” she calls, slowing her flight away from him slightly. Her voice is slightly strange through the beak, though it’s still unmistakably her voice. “You are far more than a mere Time Mender.” With that, she disappears into the evening, chasing her bonded through the sky.

- weaver -

and you'll be told no lies

Image | Quote by Charles Dickens


@Mortuus Nox - <3 I figured we can end it here and have them meetup when the Rift opens?? Because I love them.

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Magic use/power playing is okay, but check before serious injury/death
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