the Rift

[OPEN] write down my poems for the few [Festival Storytelling]

Lena the Songbird Posts: 663
Aurora Basin Time Mender atk: 4 | def: 10.5 | dam: 6.5
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15.3 :: 6 HP: 69 | Buff: NOVICE
Imogen :: Common Kitsune :: Fire Heather
In between the grandeur and opulence of their Orangemoon bliss, the Songbird started her reign again.
Like seasons before, she hastened to the mythical opus surrounding her existence – beyond the days of her childhood, and back into the wild thickets of what had once been, of how they’d become more than refugees, of the layers, the history, the sentiments behind the mountain sides, summits, peaks, and glaciers. Tied amidst her sagacity and experience was the rise, the fall, the glory, the triumph, of how the Basin had come to be, an existence younger than some and older than others, of an empire laced and lacquered with controversy, disdain, and supremacy, of chiseled, all-enduring brethren who could always come together to refuel, to renew, to be more than just cold-blooded.
She’d tell the world that, again and again and again, until their ears turned her way and listened to the melodies she delivered, prospered, and balanced across the aurora horizon, until the realm understood their methods, their reasons, their myths and tales. Some would inevitably balk and shy away, trusting what they’d heard before, the stigmas, the legends pressed down by those undermined, ruined, or staring in disbelief; others would stand and stay, stray from the confines of what they used to know or remained ignorant to. All along, the Songbird would rustle her harmonies and unrelenting creeds, her singsong smiles and grand, regal enticements, so eventually the Basin would become more than a haunting refrain on the backdrop of greater symphonies – it’d be an opus, a masterpiece, an oeuvre recaptured by fledgling generations.
The Mender and her kitsune wound their way along the lake, drifting away from the dancing and fortunes, aligning their cloths and mats so everyone could settle beneath the resolute, unwavering hues and the potent summits, so they could blend into the mystique, into the finery, into the potential for another wonderful telling of stories and sonnets. “I’m Lena, a Time Mender of the Basin,” she spoke into the crowd, all grins and hummingbird stanzas, all pride and beneficence, a picture of elegance and poise, calm, noble composure, carved by the rime, by the days spent beside snow and ice and wonder. Her gaze settled on those yearning to learn; awaiting their call, their appeals, their designs, just as she’d done before. “What would you like to hear?”

[Come listen to some stories! Lena is willing to talk about a whole host of things regarding the Basin, including past wars/invasions, how the Basin came to be, the Time God, Deimos' passing, etc. ^_^]
her passions are made of nothing but the finest part of pure love
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Gwyn Posts: 10
Aurora Basin Filly
Filly :: Unicorn :: 16.2 :: Newborn

Daddy had told her to stay away from the white mare with the black face mark, the fermented apples, and the fortune teller’s booth, and to stay within either his sight, or mommy’s.  Gwyn, however, had entirely forgotten all of these stipulations the instant she had come out the end of the wooded trail, and into the festival clearing.  

It was just so pretty!  Duir, daddy’s sweet deer friend, was playing music with a floating whale and some fellow, and the afternoon sun falling towards the mountains cast everything in a perfectly golden glow.  Was that a dragon-lady?  Those looked like games over there…

Her jaw dangles open freely as she looks at the arrangement of strangers to meet and things to do.  Not seeing any other foals about immediately, the filly instead moves towards the refreshments area, where most of the adults seem to be gathered, occasionally looking over her shoulder for her mommy, but otherwise letting her eyes roam about freely at the makeshift lamp-posts and carefully tended valley.  Grabbing a sprig of blackberries between her lips, she then asks herself:  what now?

It is just then that Lena arrives along the lakeshore, and the child, who had been born to the sound of the healer’s pretty singing, is immediately drawn towards the serene waterside.  The Mender likely has just enough time to get her mats neatly arranged before Gwyn is seated on a square of bear fur, her legs tucked gracefully beneath her, and her pale blue eyes eagerly waiting to meet the bay mare’s gaze; when she does, she’ll smile, but otherwise remain quiet.

[ OOC: :D tagging Nessie for familial story-time perhaps?  Rikyn will be here shortly. ]

’cause you’ve got teeth like a wolf
but you cry like a sheep

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Ingrid Posts: 42
World's Edge Philosopher atk: 4.5 | def: 9 | dam: 5
Mare :: Equine :: 16.0 hh :: 2 (Frostfall) HP: 60 | Buff: NOVICE

Reference Credit

Ingrid had been told the storytelling session would be over by the lake. She expected to see other Wise Ones gathered, but instead she found a tiny, adorable foal.


Hopefully without the child seeing her, Ingrid stashed the basket of fermenting fruit she was carrying behind a few trees.

So there are kids here? That would have been nice to know before I ate like ten of those apples. I mean, I'm not asking for it painted on the sky, but a heads up would have been nice. 'Watch for children,' 'toddler Xing,' fuck, a stop sign in front of the booze probably would have done it.

She settled on a mat somewhere away from the foal and looked up at the mare who was going to be doing the storytelling, a pretty bay who introduced herself as Lena. She was poised, measured, and elegant, in Ingrid's mind, everything about her screamed politician. "Well, good to know I didn't lose my way and accidentally end up at the Festival's stand-up comedy booth," she muttered under her breath.

She wasn't too put off though, Ingrid had a feeling this mare had a lot of interesting things to say. She shifted on her mat, and was content to wait for others to arrive.

Yael Posts: 186
World's Edge Seer atk: 7.5 | def: 11 | dam: 2.5
Mare :: Pegasus :: 14.2 :: 39 - appears 8 HP: 63.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Zani :: Serval :: None Astor
like a jar, you housed infinite tenderness
and infinite tenderness shattered you
Part of her knows very well that she should seek out Rikyn or Tiamat and share with them what Kaos’s altar says… but finds herself swept up in the whirlwind of the Festival instead. Raeden’s gift, a wonderfully warm wool cloak, keeps the evening chill from sinking too deep into her slender frame, as it falls heavily around her torso and shoulders. The shiny bits that poke out reflect the torchlights and glowing mushrooms with a subtle silver and gold luminescence that she does not seem to notice. Weaving amongst the revelers, Yael decides to avoid the main floor, though the music is lovely, and seek other entertainment.

A horned mare is adjusting a bunch of furs, and well, that seems like the perfect place for Yael; comfortable, warm, and with a kind-looking host. Storytelling is an added bonus! Oh, and Ingrid is there too. Perfect. Sidling up next to her fellow Edger, she reaches out from beneath her cloak to graze the mare’s sides with her wingtips in greeting, offering her a genuinely enthusiastic, “Xello, Ingrid!” in greeting. Next, her eyes roam towards the very young foal, and it seems like her maternal heart will burst, she’s so darn cute. “Ekscuse me,” she begins to ask, leaning down to talk to the girl, “is t’is seat taken?” One wing gestures to an empty space to one side of Gwyn, waiting for her to give an answer before either settling in in that space, or moving to another.

One she is situated, Yael offers a smile to the Time Mender. “Xello, I am Yael. Sage of ze Edge.” Truly, the story-collector is more than happy to listen to whatever tales she is willing to offer them, but she secretly hopes they will be of either the Basin’s beginning or the Time God.

lines | coloring | coding

Please only tag in starter posts, or if the thread is getting dusty
Force and magic allowed, no death please

Glacia Posts: 111
Aurora Basin Medic atk: 4.0 | def: 8.0 | dam: 6.5
Mare :: Unicorn :: 16.3 :: 4 Years HP: 62.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Name :: Snowy Owl :: None Nessie

Rikyn says he will join me and Gwyn shortly, and I nod to him as I move off towards Lena and her story telling. I glance once more, noting a few more faces had been added to the mix, and one our patron god. I didn't remember him coming when I was first here. He is talking to Rikyn, and I look away to find other faces. A dun mare, and a few others. Nothing of note as I make my way to the storytelling with the others. As I arrive, I somewhat recognize the golden Pegasus as someone who I had seen in the Worlds Edge. But I didn't know her. Suspiciously I watch as she moves towards Gwyn, and I move closer, beginning to hover protectively. But she offers no threat to my daughter, and I relax somewhat. Carefully I move to the other side and curl my legs beneath me. My lips nuzzle on Gwyn's shoulder, before smiling at the golden mare.

My eyes move to look at the other mare, having seen her milling around the crowd before I had arrived. Maybe I would meet her later. But she was pretty, with unique coloring and markings. Feathers hung from her mane. Maybe I would strike a conversation later then. I needed to extend my friend pool from the very few I had. My eyes turn to look back at Lena as I eagerly awaited the stories that my childhood hero would tell.

"talk talk talk talk "

@Gwyn <3
I figure i'll only tag her since rikyn will be along

but the queen has been overthrown

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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

By the time I make it over to the girls, Gwyn is already beset by a female on either side, and with a somewhat sad grin, I nod a greeting to the golden Yael, and quietly smile at Glacia, before taking my place at the back of the group, and remaining on my hooves. Not entirely sure what story Lena might have in store for the evening, I’m surprised when she asks what we would like to hear, instead.

Waiting for what feels like a polite enough time for someone else to suggest a story, I begin to rifle through my memory for one that isn’t offensive, considering the nature of the histories between the North, and the rest of Helovia. Grinning when I land on the most pleasant memory that I have of all the people gathered together in one place, I project my voice over the distant sound of Rhodoc, Nimue, and Duir’s music.

"I’d not mind a tale of the Caela," I suggest, knowing that Gwyn, at the very least, has never heard of it, and the island itself had had many memorable moments, none of which were scary or offensive. The blue tent that had stood among the indigo, green, and red tents of the four herds had been carefully packed back down to the Basin, and enchanted with my father’s magic, for instance, and that was just one story.

What of the various events, or the festivities which had been thrown by Queen Kahlua? What about the island itself, reached by magical cloud…

in every heart a hole
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Wishlist - Plots

Force/violence is allowed to be used on Rikyn permitted it does not permanently maim or kill him (PM me!).

Maude Posts: 140
World's Edge Filly
Filly :: Unicorn :: 15.3 :: Yearling

Arriving among those awaiting stories from the mouth of the pretty bay mare promising them, Maude quickly picks a seat, and settles in, tucking her hooves beneath her with graceful ease. She leaves even those she knows be, for now, struck suddenly with a desire to quietly sit with herself, at least until someone else decided to interrupt that silence for her.

Admiring the pretty gleam of the lights on the placid lake’s surface, and occasionally looking alongside her at the others here, she tries her best to avoid looking at the obvious family unit. The filly, spotted and gold, matches the pretty mare resting alongside her and the tall, darkly handsome stallion standing over them far too well for her to think otherwise. Wondering if her family ever caused this ache in the breast of others, she silently apologizes to the world, if they had.

She certainly had not intended to.

Having never heard of the Caela herself, the filly likes this topic, but adds in her additional ideas, just in case Lena decides she’s told the story of this mysterious sounding Caela too often (her parents had often refused to tell her favorite stories on the principle she surely new them by heart at this point, after all).

"Or one about love! Or adventure!" she quips, before returning to her quiet waiting.

How should we like it if the stars were to burn
With a passion for us we could not return?
If equal affection cannot be,
let the more loving one be me.

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Hold onto this lullaby, even when the music's gone.

Amaris Posts: 299
World's Edge Philosopher atk: 5.5 | def: 8 | dam: 6.5
Mare :: Hybrid :: 16h :: 4 years HP: 70 | Buff: NOVICE
Dramyrth :: Gold Dragon :: Fire Breath & Frost Breath Whit
She recognised the healer easily, the bay mare with a pointed horn held aloft her brow, the kind smile and eyes that spoke more than her gentle voice ever would. Amaris had met her officially at the border of the Edge, when Lena travelled there to deliver invitations for this very event, though she felt she knew her from elsewhere. Not intimately, but rather, in a familiar face kind of way.

Memories, it would seem, would always be blurred by the passage of time; Amaris wondered at just what she might have forgotten about her childhood, what had she recollected differently, what had been fogged by her own perspective of various times that she had reflected upon such things?

Lena's Storytelling booth was therefore very intriguing to Amaris, who followed the golden pegasus, her friend Yael, to the stand, vaguely recognising other faces from the crowd as well, offering a friendly nod should they meet her eye but otherwise hanging back some.

The dragonmare sorely wanted to lie upon a mat with the others, but she felt her presence might cause undue unrest in a scene where serenity was meant to reign - so she remained standing, listening, hoping Lena's voice would travel to her ears from where they stood, perched to attention atop her scaled cranium. Dramyrth, ever-present, remained huddled atop her withers, staring with an unreadably intensity at all around, his critiques and criticisms kept silent even to Amaris.
Daniel Schiersner @ flickr & larfsalot @ deviantart
No need to mirror my post length - I have a horrible case of the rambly writer syndrome!
I like being tagged!
You are always welcome to 'try' and use force/magic on Amaris, but similar to spar posts, leave it to me to decide how the damage is taken please~

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