the Rift


[OPEN] the night is young [MAIN FESTIVAL THREAD]

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
#21


ЯIKYN


The returned stare of the dragon-mare makes goose bumps rise along my whole body, so I quickly break eye contact; the thought, however, that there was little malevolence in her gaze lingers even after my skin regains a smooth state, and I try to remember to find time to seek her out later on, if I have time. Perhaps at one of the games, I think, distracted by both Glacia, alongside me, and the sullen arrival of my often morose friend, Sikeax.

I look from the champagne unicorn to the mother of my child when she starts talking, wondering what she is to me now. Childhood friend, sure, in a way, but I had done things with her I hadn’t done with the rest of them, and that made her something more; I was loathe to call her my girlfriend though, because it had this terrible, monotonous relationship overtone to it, but that then left with me with cheesy options like “lover,” or “partner.”

Blech.

"You go ahead, I’ll be there shortly," I say with a smile, really meaning it; I have intentions to go to each event tonight, if I can weasel enough time out of the evening, but I also have to make sure the events happen, too, "gotta do another round about, then I’ll be there."

I’m going to go say hi to Sikeax (and maybe point her towards the booze-imbued apples), before picking up a verse or two with Rhodoc, when the lights suddenly go out. Like, all of them, newly risen stars included. My eyes widen and my head pivots about for the source of the magic, wondering if Ampere’s seemingly old woman fears have come true, and Kaos has attacked our party. When the crackling lights burst across the sky, however, my worry subsides into amusement, and even genuine enjoyment.

So, when a voice arrives alongside me, I look over with a smile, expecting some older fellow from my childhood, to find the God of the Spark. It is, needless to say, somewhat startling, but I think I manage to maintain my cool well enough.

"Thanks," I grin, looking out at everyone gathered, "they seem to be having a good time. I guess I am too, really."

I look back to the God.

"I’m glad you came. That was a hell of a light show," I chuckle, "poor Rexanna might pass out tonight, trying to put on a display that might compare to yours just now. Don’t think everyone is as competitive as I am about everything though."




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I'm betting I'm not



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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
#22
for there are many ways to kill a man they say
Wessex snorts, amused that someone would consider her blunt words an adequate replacement for the coy and sugared words of practiced hostesses. “Hell no, I’m probably feeling just as awkward as you look.” She is far more at home on the battlefield than mingling, feeling oversized and bulky - dangerous, even - amongst finer-boned beings who don’t quite know what to make of the horned, somber-looking soldier. The feather mare, however, sets her at ease by accepting her offer of both apples and company. She is quickly intrigued by the revealed device, watching it taps the apple and drains it of its juices.

“Oh?” Wessex asks, followed soon by a “May I? indicating that she’d like to try the pure liquid in its concentration - or whatever the heck Ampere is making. Wessex is familiar with intoxication, she just hasn’t seen it in this form, having never accompanied, her fellows to the bar. Too much goes wrong when one is drunk… but a taste couldn’t hurt, right? It’s a party, and even if she’s on guard duty, they’re going to be tossing rings are her head and tail in a bit. That must require a bit of liquid assistance, right?

Volterra, the Indomitable joins them, and Wessex once again finds herself drowning in curiosity about the massive stallion. But wait! A roving gaze catches the form of a champagne colored mare with a glowing blue horn as she passes behind the ruling pair. “Who’s that?” she queries, finding herself inexplicably drawn to the way she seems to avoid everyone else. A woman after the fairly reclusive Corporal’s own heart, if she ever saw one.  She’s about to follow, investigate the stranger on pretense of ‘security’ (look, an excuse is an excuse, ok? It’s built into her job title) when the sky lights up with flashes and bangs and to be honest, it feels rather familiar. But she can’t quite put her finger on it until the God of the Spark shows up - and by then, she can’t find the mare in the crowd of watchers.

Well, fuck. On the other hand, her God is there, and she’s half inclined to interrupt his powwow with Rikyn.  

I am Iron and I Forge Myself


@Ampere  
@Volterra  
@Sikeax
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Imogen Posts: 24
Aurora Basin Thief atk: 4.5 | def: 9.0 | dam: 5
Mare :: Pegasus :: 14.3 :: 5 years HP: 60 | Buff: NOVICE
Reli
#23
The cold night breeze glides through her feathers as she soars above the crowd, raising goose bumps beneath her silky coat and causing an involuntary shiver to run down her spine. Angling her body and using the air currents to guide her, the winged minx alights on one of the many cliffsides that surrounds the festival below. Balancing on the rock, now slippery with pre-winter hoarfrost, she gazes with beady eyes at those who mingle below her. She had not been particularly enthused when the herd had begun its preparations for this soiree, but she intends to use it to her advantage now, gleaning what information she can from liquor-loose lips.

FLASH—!

The sudden burst of light startles the vixen, much to her indignation; she nearly falls from the rock on which she is perched, keeping her footing only by unfurling her wings to maintain her balance, and flapping them once before she is able to compose herself once more. Her pride bruised with the sting of embarrassment, and assuring herself that no one could have witnessed her folly from this height, Imogen huffs a sigh and purses her smoky lips into a fine line.

Too bitter now to acknowledge the beauty in the light show that the Basin’s patron god provides, the winged mare watches the fireworks and dancing stars with a stony expression. She rolls her shoulders forward, tucking in her black wings against her flanks, and allows the length of her golden cloak to fall more fully across her back. The show goes on above, but she lowers her eyes to scan the crowd, her cold attention ultimately resting on the Basin’s bay Time Mender—the one she knows to be telling stories. Just as the last of the Time God’s fireworks fade back into the night, Imogen glides down to the valley, keen on collecting what information she can.


“Speech.”
You can tell me when it’s over
If the high was worth the pain

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God of the Spark Posts: 111
Helovian Ancient
Stallion :: Hybrid :: 15.3hh :: Ageless
Admin
#24

The God shrugs in response to Rikyn's comment about Rexanna. If the God had to attend one of these things, he was going to get his honourable mentions in early and duck out. At least with his overtly magical display, no one would be able to say that he hadn't shown up.

"Good job. And no one made any kids cry handing out invitations. That's a job well done." He grunted, recalling one of the first festivals that the Basin had thrown and what an utter cluster fuck it had been.

The God's eye was drawn by a way-too-many horned mare who seemed to be checking out another mare. The God snorted, a mischievous look on his face.
"Fuck it." He mumbled to himself, striding towards Wessex. He'd named an orphaned kid ruler of the Basin, had put a soft-spoken creature of the sea to rule alongside him, and that had worked out pretty well. Why the fuck not put someone unlikely in the position of Haruspex as well? Maybe a little chaos was just what the Basin needed to get its shit together.

"You. Spikey one. Comm'ere. You seem to like looking at pretty things," he began, a wry smile on his blue lips as he covertly glanced at Sikeax. "How do you feel about mirrors?"

And just like that, the offer was on the table.

god of the spark
image


@Wessex

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
#25
for there are many ways to kill a man they say
‘You. Spikey One.’

Only a blind fool would have to look around to see who the God is talking about. Spoiler alert, it’s Wessex, with her crown of many horns and faux porcupine tail. If she hadn’t already been looking his way, she is now, unable to stop herself from chuckling about her penchant for pretty things. He’s right, of course - if there is anything Tiamat, Manon, and Sikeax all have in common, it’s that they’re lovely to look at.

Her shoulders heave up and down as Wessex stands her ground before the God, looking down at him and finding it odd that she should be taller than the manipulator of time. “Mutants generally aren't friends with their reflections, but I hear your mirror is something else entirely.” Her gaze flits back to Rikyn, then to the horned God, and is keenly aware that yes, this is happening in front of allllllll the festival goers. The only option is to say yes, thank you sir, I’ll do my best, sir. Not stand there like a fucking idiot, with snark dripping from her tongue.

It appears this is her time to step up - and it’s come far sooner than she ever imagined it would, and in the most obtuse way. Irreverant as Wessex is at times, she is nothing if not, at her core, a hard worker, dedicated to the Basin and its members. She will always wonder why he chooses her, now, while unrest and questions weaken Helovia’s defenses; why not Ode, or someone else who believes fervently in the Gods and their decrees? He wants Wessex to be his mouthpiece?

In a lower tone, and because the same nerves which jumble up her hooves take over, she jests a tad more with The Spark. “Normally, I don't like to look at stallions, but for you, I would change.”

In other words, she’s picking up what he’s throwing down. Offer accepted.

I am Iron and I Forge Myself
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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
#26

He’d taken his time, staring out along the void of earth, snow, and ice from his father’s tomb, watching the crowd grow, gather, and mingle, only threading amidst their grandeur and opulence when he’d woven his mind into a less-sullen regard. The General roamed from the border line to the crisp enveloping of frames and figures, pausing to nod at familiar faces, at other sovereigns, kindling a bright smile that was only half-pretense, forcing jubilance and joviality from his core when all he seemed to want to do was run.
 
A true son of the Reaper, Orsino hissed, growled, and scoffed, rolling his eyes at the sudden need for the prince to escape and divert his attention elsewhere – and Erebos ignored the jibe, the spurn, the insult – treading lightly along the outskirts, a careful, quiet, composed veneer settling over his features. Enyo clicked her beak and danced, swayed, to several makeshift tunes, wings unfolding and swinging in the autumn breeze, and this registered a small laugh from the soldier, shaking his head as they wandered, as they roamed, as they ignored drink (because he was eternally on duty, needed to be sharp, needed to be aware, needed to be on guard), but couldn’t resolve himself to place himself near anyone else. His mercurial mood was enough to put anyone at bay.
 
But the flash of lights, of sounds, of sparks emblazoning the sky – like dragons, like deer, like wolves, dashing across the midnight canvas, the Stygian landscape, gave his handsome regard a true smile – because at least their God had the means to display their savagery, their power, their might, as the rest of the world celebrated his presence. He was drawn to the ripple of time and space, to the hours spanning across decades and forsaken, desolate realms, eyes riveted on the God, smiling as he praised Rikyn, as he roamed towards Wessex.
 
Then his brows arched, curious as to why the deity lingered near his Corporal, strained to listen to the speech enveloping through their sanctum – and then, all at once, the notion, the speculation, was irrelevant. She’d been proffered the mirror, the position of Haruspex, and the General, still a stupid, stupid boy, fought momentarily, almost begged, for her to say no, because she was a part of his army, of his strong, enduring force, an integral part of the mighty, ferocious machine. He wanted them to stay together, this finely built unit, finally starting to become something without fractures and splinters, brawny, brutal, and vicious, capable of thwarting anyone and everyone who crossed their path. But she accepted before he could proffer her anything in return, and he knew, he knew he couldn’t be cold, he couldn’t be twisted, he couldn’t be so maligned to dream of her passing up an opportunity. It just stuck in between his ribs – that cold, darkening feeling of being left behind again, of not being enough, pondering how to replace her, how to forge on when she’d been all mettle and barbarity.
 
His mother hadn’t raised him to be a bitter, rancorous little beast, but sometimes the sentiments still lingered there, rash and asinine. He pushed the sentiments down, far, deep into the cavernous depths of his lungs, of his nefarious, blackening heart, and made his way over to her, a smile, a smirk, a Cheshire grin pierced and layered on his face, the disappointment hidden beneath the honor and acclaim she’d undoubtedly earned. “Congratulations,” he provided and presided, bowing his head to her in salute and praise, raising his head to look her directly in the eyes, showing naught but pride beneath the cool, radiant core. “I’m sure you’ll be a fine Haruspex.” You certainly never disappointed as a Corporal, he wanted to say, but anything else and his composure might have fallen apart, so he stepped aside, swallowing the puncturing shades, remembering what duty meant, and how the God of the Sun had told him to look ahead, ahead, ahead.

Erebos
i have nothing, but then the have is not as good as the want

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@Wessex

Mihtal Posts: 26
Dragon's Throat Mare atk: 5.5 | def: 8.5 | dam: 3.5
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15.0 :: 8 years HP: 56.0 | Buff: Novice
Reli
#27
I almost didn’t come to this festival. To say that it’s ‘not in my nature’ would be putting it lightly, perhaps, given the string of isolation and horror in my past. I am not a woman who is wont to ‘let loose’, or even relax, much less travel to a land on the other side of Helovia to join some sort of celebration. Nevertheless, here I find myself (seemingly miraculously), standing within the Aurora Basin’s valley, and surrounded by a crowd of unfamiliar faces.

I find it hard to rest my eyes on any one place for long.
There are so many things going on, and so many people bustling this way and that, I simply try to focus on not being in anyone’s way. Shuffling towards the table of food, I stand just outside the light of the lanterns. Instinctively, I hold my head low, allowing the long length of my hair to fall over the majority of my face, hiding me from prying eyes or overly friendly hosts.

Only when one such individual, whose breath reeks of liquor, comes bubbling in my direction do I move. Scampering like a little mouse beneath the sight of a cat, I dart off in no particular direction—simply away.

I’m too distracted by the fool behind me to notice that the path I have taken is not clear.

Before I’m able to regain control of my throbbing heart, my chest is bumping into someone else, effectively leaving me both breathless and mortified. “I—I’m so sorry,” I stammer to the individual, glancing up just long enough to register the beautiful woman (and noting her flowers, I think of how I should have done something with the dusty strands that fall across my shoulders), before I bow my head, and turn towards my beloved shadows.


notes; Wanders uselessly, and then scuttles away after bumping into @Sikeax (she can either call after Mihtal or not! Either is fine<3)
“Speech.”
Run away—
run away if you can’t speak
Turn a page on a world that you don’t need

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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
#28
It would seem that with every individual that arrives within the Basin, the sea mare’s eyes sparkle just a little bit more. She mills around with the crowd once the festival is underway, trying to be a good host, and thanking everyone she can for coming to their beautiful home. She also searches to catch the eye of any of her fellow herd mates, and give them an encouraging grin of excitement. Everyone within the Basin truly pulled together to prepare for this celebration, and she couldn’t be prouder of them.

Of course, Tiamat should know by now that her awe cannot be fully triumphed, especially when their deity is involved. With her white eyes wide and reflecting the night sky, she watches as fireworks illuminate their mountain valley, sparkling and crackling in a most astonishing fashion. Spying the God of the Spark standing near her fellow leader, she makes her way to him, gleeful laughter trailing in her wake.

“Your Grace,” the Ocean’s Light bows her head to their patron god, trying to reign in her excitement and wonder to a respectable level, “That was a spectacular show you gave us, thank you!” Her smile is wide and infectious, pearly teeth shining when she turns to the dark stallion. “Hello Rikyn!” Tiamat shifts closer to him, her smile softening intimately. “I think the festival is a great success, well done!” Her velvet muzzle brushes against his shoulder, truly proud of him and all his personal efforts to see this festival to the end.

However, the Lady’s attention is distracted then when the Time God moves away. Watching him move just a little ways through the crowd, her dainty ears perk up attentively when he halts next to Wessex. Their brief exchange is nearly drowned out by the music and laughter, but Tiamat hears enough to make her heart soar. “Wessex! Congratulations!” She calls out before she even reaches her dear friend, giving her an enthusiastic grin.


notes; @Rikyn @Wessex I'm sorry it's bleh ;-; yay! Congrats!
“Speech.”
a bright light—
so no one lets you down.

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God of the Spark Posts: 111
Helovian Ancient
Stallion :: Hybrid :: 15.3hh :: Ageless
Admin
#29

"Well that was easy. Don't fuck it up, will you? And don't break my mirror." He grunted, not bothering to offer any words of advice or next steps. Then, with an uncharacteristic grin, he leaned in just a bit closer to Wessex. "Mutants might not like looking at their reflections, but pretty girls often do. And the cave is decently private." Winking, the God cawed a laugh before stepping back to let the plethora of party-goers offer the former-corporal congratulations.

"You needn't call me that." The God barked sourly towards Tiamat, although his features were still soft and he didn't look nearly as put-off as his voice would suggest. "Right, well." Spark mumbled, clearing his voice and looking around uncomfortably. "A+ party.' 

And with a flash, he was gone.

god of the spark
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@Wessex

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
#30
for there are many ways to kill a man they say
Whatever negative thoughts Wessex originally had regarding the fact that the God promoted Rikyn of all people, she can no longer deny that his sense of humor is similar to hers, and she likes his blunt nature. Yes, they should get along swimmingly, whenever she has to summon him down from the sky, or whatever it is a Haruspex does, assuming she (and the herd in general) hasn’t fucked it all up.

A bold guffaw bursts from her lips as the God leans forward, offering a bit of off-colored advice. She simply can’t hold it in when she realizes the God has just told her to seduce the objects of her affection with his mirror. As in, ‘Hey, want to see something cool? I’m in charge of the mirror which contacts the God of Time. It’s in my cave, which just happens to be around the corner… [time lapse] Oh, you can’t see anything in it? Maybe you need me (right up against you) to help. Still nothing? Oh darn. Gosh, it’s cold up here in the North. Come cuddle with me under this finely woven blanket…’ Cue bow-chicka-bow-wow music.

I mean hey, maybe the God if Time is a bit of a perv and wants to look through his mirror to see two ladies getting it on. Maybe he just wants to help his poor, awkward, Haruspex finally get some action, and this is his very odd way of looking after the herd. Like a peculiar sort of step-dad who’s more friend than father, and can say the sorts of things a mother can’t.

Regardless of his intentions, Wessex nods to indicate that she understand and won’t fuck it all up, despite her lack of experience in anything even remotely religious. And then, just like that, she’s gone and words of Congratulations come her way, first by Erebos, and then Tiamat. Tia! The newly-minted Haruspex bounds forward to give the smaller Lady a quick embrace, mindful of the pointy bits around her head. “Thank you, Tiamat. You’ll let me know if I’m fucking it all up, right?” She jests, before turning her gaze to the General. She may never know his disappointment in seeing her leave his ranks, masking it all with a grin and vague look of pride. He, of all the residents of the Basin, should know the love she bears for fighting; her first love, her only love, at this point.

“Don’t think for a moment that I’m done patrolling or sparring.” She leans in conspiratorially, just like the God did a few moments ago, “Send me your soldiers to test, and I’ll kick their asses just like I did Rikyn’s.” And she’ll do it in the name of making them stronger, more prepared, ready for whenever their God may call upon them to fight Kaos. Pulling back, a bold smirk dances across her face. “Wisdom comes in all sorts of shapes and sizes, after all.”

I am Iron and I Forge Myself


@Tiamat  
@Erebos
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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
#31


ЯIKYN


The God’s joke makes me laugh, mostly in recollection of my dam’s outrage, when she’d heard of the then Czar of the Falls having ignited the hoof-painted, leaf invitations that me and the other foals had made for the very first Festival. I hadn’t been there, having gone elsewhere with my bundle of carefully prepared leaves, but I had certainly heard about it.

"Times change," I remark, wondering just what all those changes fully entailed; looking about, seeing members of the Throat among others of the misty Edge, and the wanderers of the empty realms between, all milling together, taking part in one moment, I only now notice the absence of the reproachful glances that had been present in the first festivals I remember. The laughter that sounds out is true, not forced, and the hushed conversations that I’ve happened to pick up on have been about Kaos, not what chaos will ensue with so many hornless trapped in the valley.

Tiamat’s arrival alongside me stirs another broad smile to my lips, my ears perking towards her with cheer, and I wrap my head around to touch her curves in turn, as she does mine. That same, tentative tingling rises through me as it always does when she is near, but I’m unsure still as to what it is. I blame it on being afraid she’ll share my secrets.

Maybe it’s something more. I certainly fill with great pride when she complements my efforts, golden eyes aglow with gladness to have earned her praise.

"Thank you, Tiamat," I smile, cheerfully holding her gaze.

Not surprised when the God carries on into the crowd, but lifting my ears curiously at his muttered, side comment as he departs, I follow his path with my eyes to Wessex, and my brows notch down over my eyes in contemplative concentration, my ears perked up to catch his words.

I don’t intend to make my way closer to hear her expected response; who, after all, says no to a God? But when Erebos approaches, that tell tale sorrow radiating from him, apparent as the stars upon the black sky above, I give a last longing glance to my young family awaiting me at the story-teller’s area, and make my way towards my blade brother, and the new Haruspex. With a silent approach, I settle alongside him, hoping that, as he had done for me in the past, I could assure him with my company alone that not much was changing at all. At least not anything that truly mattered.

"If an avalanche can be called wise, right brother?" I laugh, nudging at Erebos with my near shoulder, before flashing a grin at Wessex, "congratulations, Mutant of the Mirror."





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



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Canaan Posts: 18
Aurora Basin Phantom
Stallion :: Equine :: 15.2 :: 5
Silk
#32
Noise. Light. Merriment. The sounds of joyful socialization attract my attention from the corner of nowhere from which I stand. Not that I'm one to love a social gathering or expect happiness, but curiosity is not something I'm devoid of. I stare out at the brightening lights and see sparks and bright, colorful things in the sky. Perhaps it would be good to see what's going on. I rolled my shoulders back, stretching them to ease the stiffness that occurred from standing there for so long. I picked up an easy trot toward the gathering around the lake, my good eye taking in the scene there as I approached.

It was safe to say I knew almost no one. The crazed mare was recognizable, though her name was still foreign to me. She stood alone, giggling to herself. It seemed suitable, considering the last time I had encountered her in the Threshold. I recognized as well the Lord of the land - Rikyn. The sun's rays warmed my back and everyone that I saw seemed comfortable and at least somewhat happy, if not overjoyed at this... festival. I've never taken part in a festival; I have no idea what they are. No one has told me about them and I have no knowledge of the gods of the land.

(My approach came right after the disappearance of the Time God and so I was unable to witness his glorious display.) I saw many creatures that assaulted my senses. Pegasi and what I was slowly learning were unicorns. Then there were some that didn't perfectly in either category. Flying dragons, pet deer... I stood quietly staring at everyone. This place I'd entered - not just the Basin but the land as a whole - was clearly a fantastical, bewitched place. I was like plankton in this vast world of colorful fish, crustaceans, cephalopods. I could only hope that whales would not swallow me up - oh fuck, there's actually a whale!

A snort of disbelief would alert nearby participants to my appearance, and I stepped forward to watch the assortment of equines and altered-equines. My disbelief at the world before me would fade, but it might take more than 30 seconds. Clearly everyone here was used to this, and found it all to be quite mundane. Perhaps soon it would become mundane to me as well. I glanced at the crazed mare and walked to stand nearby her - but not close enough to chat. I wanted to observe in silence, and see if anyone would approach me.

blah blah blah
the
Aurora Basin
sneak

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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
#33

i don't rise from the ashes, i make them.

They can’t possibly expect her to stand by the fake wolf and wait for the games to open when Sparky comes. It’s just not a remotely reasonably expectation because the whole place just kind of stops and then the light show is killer and then Sparky is talking to her fellow Corporal. Basically, everything happens at once and Weaver is really not the kind of girl who wants to get left out of things. So, keeping an eye on the wolf in case someone makes their way over, she leaves her post, sliding closer as Sparky offers a mirror to Spikey Corporal Wessex.

Well, that’s unexpected.

Without trying, she finds Erebos in the group, drawn to him as she would be her own family. He is not, of course. She’s never even told him how much he resembles her Erebor. Still though, Weaver finds him like a moth to the flame, perhaps because she misses her brother, perhaps because she cares for Erebos more than she might admit in a familial sort of way. Maybe it’s more than that even, but he’s got Enna, and she’s never been the settling type anyway. There’s too many good options for that.

“Horses can be two things,” she whispers, just for him, not knowing his thoughts but guessing at them. After all, she knows his dreams, his aspirations, and she can venture an educated guess at the wound Wessex’s acceptance inflicts on his soft heart. Weaver merely nods to her now ex-felllow Corporal, her own version of a congratulation. Again she speaks, quietly, just for Erebos.   “Imagine, a warrior with the ear of a God. It’s not necessarily a bad thing.”

Soon enough, Wessex is making her way over. Weaver steps away a hair, letting them have their space, letting Erebos have his space. She has a game to run soon, anyway, but she lingers for a moment, listening, dreaming as he dreams. All is not lost, but perhaps has been made better.

I'm the whole fucking fire.

- weaver -

image credit | quote by erin van vuren


@Erebos for direct speech
Late Weaver is late, but I couldn't resist....

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Maude Posts: 140
World's Edge Filly
Filly :: Unicorn :: 15.3 :: Yearling
Bunnie
#34
& I think to myself


Maude


Making her way up the trails this year alone, Maude is no where near as eager to be here as she had been for her first festival. With Aelfwine in the south, and Maude too busy with her various tasks around the Edge to find time to make it there, she had done her own hair; far less elaborate, it is well groomed and gleaming, flowing now past her chest, despite her youth, and her tail is near to touching her ankles, both curled and rippling. The length of both are bound into loose braids, the early and serious cold this year having disallowed her the leisure of flowers, as the year prior, but she has made due by entwining several vines, still baring green leaves, among the pale strands.

Pretty as she always is, she certainly does not feel so. Even when she makes her way through the archway to the sound of music and the bustle of the sights, her heart does not make the same rampant scream to be let lose among it all, as it had last time. Pausing for a moment to gather her emotions, pretending to smooth her cloak back into place, mostly just to appear less awkward, the filly looks back out on the valley when she thinks she can, puts on a brave face, and ventures on.

The further in she gets, the more and more like being here she feels, however; the sight of the adults chatting and the pretty glow of the lights is enough to make even a sullen, lonesome girl feel better about life. Making her way towards the dance floor to better hear the songs, she wonders if, maybe, she might try to sing one of her own, tonight.

[ OOC: Maude goes to investigate the dance floor momentarily ~ ]


what a wonderful world

Image by Stephan Mignon@Flickr - Code by Me
Hold onto this lullaby, even when the music's gone.

Kiada Posts: 181
World's Edge Nurse
Filly :: Unicorn :: 16.3 hh :: 2 years - Birdsong
Khairi :: Leucistic Lammergeier :: Paralyze Skylark
#35
The festival had been something that Kiada remembered in detail. The last one she had been to was thought up by her mother, with contests, events, and her mother’s display of fireworks to grace the eventful evening. That was the day when she had been proclaimed the winner of the recruiting event by Deimos, a man whom she found herself consistently feeling saddened by the thought of his passing as well as the wellbeing of Erebos. So when she and Kianzo approached the event, sadness billowed in her breast from the thought of never seeing Deimos’ face again – though she knew the pain was dull in comparison.

Quietly, she made her way into the beginning gathering, looking around for any familiar faces. She noticed Rikyn, the one that had lied to her about his name, to which she still managed a soft dip of her head. Then, she looked to Kianzo briefly with a sad smile growing on her lips. “Don’t ask about Deimos… He recently passed away as I’ve heard.” She spoke quietly, murmuring to him so no other ears could hear. Her lips fell into a saddened smile before she spotted Erebos, hoping that perhaps her blue gaze might capture his own. If not, she was sure there would be another time she could manage to say her condolences to the Prince.

While she waited, she glanced over at Kianzo, content to be in the place she called home for the first year of her life. “What do you want to do?” She questioned him, hoping that he could decide what it was they should do to help try and keep her mind off of recent events.

"Talk?"
kiada
"I play with the fire of my own truth,
I will burn for the things I love."

~
image || coding


@Kianzo <3

IT'S SAID SHE'S MADE OF STORM CELLS
AND A WILD WOLF'S HUNGRY HEART,
THAT SHE'S LEARNT THE LIGHTNING'S SECRET
TO RIPPING DARKENED SKIES APART.

Astarot Posts: 81
Dragon's Throat Sun Physician atk: 5.5 | def: 9.0 | dam: 5.5
Stallion :: Equine :: 17.1 :: 2 (Birdsong) HP: 66.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Zafír :: Common Blue Dragon :: Frost Breath Pare
#36

In her mind she fantasize about gettin with me
He stood gazing at the band while Zafir added to the warm upbeat music. He allowed the sounds to fill him and hummed along as well his voice adding a bass to Zafir's happy sounds. A sudden call drew his head up swiftly. Heat flooded his thick boned body as he turned to look at the golden lady. His heart soared hopefully. Out of everyone at the party Amaris had chosen to come up to him. Dark lips curled up in a very bright smile. "Amaris! It's greet to see you!" He chuckled deeply as she bounced. Zafir paused her singing to call out to the handsome golden king. She puffed up her chest glad she had cleaned herself up before they had come here.

"Oh yes, everything is great at home. How is everything with you?" He grinned dual colored eyes looking into her beautiful gaze. 'Gods she is beautiful.' His heart thundered as testosterone flooded through his muscular body. Before he could try and say something suave lighting flared over head. His eyes lifted towards the sky curiously; Zafir fell silent gazing upwards as well. The sky darkened as if all the light had left the world. His muscles flexed ready to defend against some form of attack. Out of nowhere lights suddenly flashed dazzling the stallion and dragoness. Instead of watching everything that happened above he turned and watched the dragon mare beside him. Zafir stored the images away to show him later on.

He swallowed as the pretty lights made her golden scales flash in the light. She was beautiful, much more gorgeous than the light show over head. His smile was warm and soft as he watched her. Once the show was over his eyes were still on the dragonmare. His voice was husky and honest, "Wow..." If horses could blush his skull marked face would have turned tomato red. Zafir smirked and looked at the golden king wondering if he understood as well as she did.

His name floated into his ears drawing his attention away from the beautiful lady. He dipped his head to Lyanna, "Hello Lyanna, it's nice to see you." He smiled, but nothing like the smile he had given to Amaris. "Yes, it was beautiful..." His gaze flicked back to the golden queen sheepishly before turning back to the dark coated lady. He watched her for a moment before turning to look at the crowd around them. His gaze fell on several that he didn't know, but one stallion stood out among the rest. "Is that the God of spark?" He kept his eyes on the black and white man. If he was the God of time he was much smaller than his brother.

-----------------------------------
Speaking
Words;; 454
OOC/Tags;; @Amaris @Lyanna
Girl I'm the king so that means I'm fly
Astarot

[Image: silver_dreamer_mist_trans_tag_by_are_we_...a8y6wy.png]


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