the Rift


We Bring The Heat

Erasvet Posts: 2
Unclaimed
Mare :: Unicorn :: 14.3 :: 3
Minx
#1
The entire status quo of her life was disrupted by a mere flicker, an image in the fires of her dreams. She ponders if she was merely drawn to the thought of a divine calling, that she some desperate part of her merely wants to feel a larger piece to the universe than she truly is. Does not every individual on this earth wish to ascend to be more than they truly are? Erasvet can’t help but wonder if maybe this is just a fool’s errand, if it might have been better to stay within the confines of her temple. Surely the sundancer should’ve felt content doting on the fires with her sister, gazing into them when her deity saw it fitting to grace them with a vision. Life only seems to complicate itself the more she travels.. Considering the company she has picked up since departing from her sisters.

Her eyes drift over towards the peculiar equine she has since chosen as her traveling companion. Certainly not a typical face one would see amongst her own temples… But that only adds to her fascination. Erasvet tries to keep her thoughts on the road but she can’t quite shake the sneaking suspicion they have found themselves lost. Quietly she comes to a halt and takes in her surroundings, studying the treeline before glancing over at her companion.

“Izzy.. I think we’re lost,” she says, her voice remaining as tranquil and soft as ever.


we have walking we have talking



image credits


@Isorath first please
also tagging @Sikeax

☼ please tag Erasvet in all replies
☼ force/magic permitted with the exception of maiming/killing

Isorath Posts: 2
Outcast
Stallion :: Hybrid :: 17.2 :: Appears 4
Nova
#2
Kill your Kings,
march into their white sacred palaces,
and burn them


The road of the traveler is one Isorath had walked frequently, the skies and land had felt the beat of his wings and the weight of his hooves time and time again. Like fire, he cannot stay still for long, at least without a reason worthy to tilt his antlered cranium with interest. Stagnation inevitably bred laziness and complacency in the end, while he was known to give in to such vices with comfortable ease, there came a time where he simply moved on.

Moved on he had away from the comforts he had built for himself, and found himself in the company of another. The sundancer is a stark contrast to everything he is, and while he begrudged her presence more often than not, she lessened the long stretch of silence in the night. When the nightmares and the memories hung over his head like a crown full of daggers, when the wind whispered words he wished he could forget.

More often than not, she was the gentle voice which soothed over the lashing his tongue was quick to give. A frequent happening, given Isorath's appalling track record and dismal view of nearly all they had come across.

Izzy..I think we're lost. Izzy. Her pet name caused an ear to dip back against his styled locks, followed by the other in one elegant motion. The sunfire orb within his antlers swelled and burned brighter in the next moment, any other day, they would of been pressed against the stark white strands for a moment. Then they would of flicked forward once more, accompanied by one of his usual barbs.

Today, she had a point, as much as he's loathed to internally admit it. They are lost. The treeline is never ending, one tree looked exactly like the other, paths bled and entwined until they were hardly able to tell them apart. An exasperated breath is exhaled from pale nostrils, and his head tilted to regard her with slitted eyes. "What makes you say that, Era?" He asked, words laced with sarcasm. "Is it the feeling of perhaps we've passed this particular set of trees before? Or that particularly large rock?" His tail punctuated his words with a swift jab toward the moss covered boulder in the question and then retreated around his hocks.

"This is why you need wings." Isorath stated after a stretch of silence, his own winged appendages loosened from his sides to grip their fingers into the earth, resigned to the fact they were indeed lost. "It would of made things easier if we both could fly over this infernal forest."

"Speech."



Art by Rhiaan @ DA


@Erasvet
@Kiada -- I know you wanted these two ;D

Kiada Posts: 181
World's Edge Nurse
Filly :: Unicorn :: 16.3 hh :: 2 years - Birdsong
Khairi :: Leucistic Lammergeier :: Paralyze Skylark
#3
history is written
by the victors
It had been so terribly long since the harpy had visited the Threshold. It had almost became a foreign place, despite the fact that much of her childhood was spent in these woods. She knew them, before, by heart. The different trails that lead to every which way, and the quickest and easiest way to escape them. But that felt already like a lifetime ago, despite being so young. Kiada was not a girl anymore, and thus had become more cynical and thoughtful of how she spent her time, but something within her yearned for the simpler times of when she often visited the Threshold in hopes of returning home with new members in tow.

Perhaps it was Khairi’s first suggestion of returning that got the woman thinking, as she mulled over what to do next. Easily, she agreed, unable to come up with anything better for her time (and of course the fact they were close – far closer than she had been back when she lived within the icy tundra of the Basin’s valleys. The two set off, nothing particularly in mind for what to do other than possibly meet someone and offer them a home, or if nothing else, information. They trudged along like soldiers, Khairi flying above while Kiada roamed the earth, able to see from both land and air.

The girl finally began to feel relaxed as she walked by the familiar trees, having grown taller and wider from each previous visit. It was almost bittersweet in a way as the golden girl paused by a few trees she could barely remember, only capable of remembering them from the way Khairi had marked them on their earlier travels. He chimed a simple squawk in the air in his excitement before a sound intrigued them both.

First it was a faint voice, followed by a deeper, more sarcastic tone. It was then the ink dipped filly knew she should at least appear to them, perhaps offer some sort of direction. Khairi easily swooped down to the familiar spot on her withers, where small scars were born with callouses from where the bearded vulture’s talons consistently dug into her flesh. Among her spine, flames erupted in various forms of deer, her curiosity leaking through.

This is why you need wings.” The princess paused in her step as she listened to the rest of the words uttered by the strange pale man. “It not help. Still confusing.” Came the raspy voice from Khairi through their bond. A small smirk grew on the girl’s pink splattered lips before fading nearly immediately as she broke through the tree line, dipping her ivory striped face in greeting. “Welcome to Helovia.” She began, pausing as Khairi crooned his own greeting. “I am Kiada and this is Khairi. Is there anything we can help you with?” She questioned with a tilt of her head, her voice taking on a sickly sweet tone. She wasn’t really one for helping people if she got nothing out of it, but she’d play along on the off chance she did.

"Talk."
kiada
image credits || coding


@Erasvet @Isorath im so rusty with her right now i apologize D: also, take a novel <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.

Mathèo Posts: 65
Dragon's Throat Colt
Stallion :: Tribrid :: 17.2 :: 3 seasons
Delphi :: Common Rougarou :: Flame Odd
#4

Having been born into Helovia  Thèo had had no previous reason to come to the Threshold. However as he aged, he watched more and more of the herd gradually ferry members from this place to the herdland. He'd flown over to see if there were any important duties or responsibilities partaking in this 'thresholding' required, and there seemed not to be. Other than offering information of course.

Although seemingly someone had beat him to that already ...

Still, he was here. And so, with a bright and youthful smile upon his ashen cherub face, Thèo descended from the skies to add to the growing party conversing below.

"Hallo!" He called, a bizarre almost italian accent sounding from his young lips. Green eyes surveyed those gathered, recognizing only Kiada (but only because of her presence at the various Kaos-things from before). At the boy's side, errupting from what appeared to be nothing, a lion suddenly stood. Delphi regarded her bonded with beautiful golden eyes, before looking at the trio before her. Her leonine tail wrapped around her amber hindquarters as she sat, still as an oracle and just as watchful. The light that constantly fell upon Thèo dappled the ground around him as a warm smile parted his smooth lips.

"Wow." Thèo mumbled under his breath, looking at Era and Iso, marvelling at the pale scaled beauty and her fire-coloured counterpart. The youth didn't bother to hide his eyes, instead allowing his verdant gaze to drink them in as one might a painting, a happy sparkle alighting his face. "I am Mathèo of the Dragon's Throat. And this is Delphi." The boy indicated the lioness next to him with a warm grin.

mathèo
I got a river for a soul
And baby you're a boat

Image Credits

Sikeax the Sea Soul Posts: 355
Outcast atk: 4 | def: 9 | dam: 6
Mare :: Hybrid :: 16 hh :: 5 years HP: 64.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Hobgoblin :: Common Rougarou :: Water & Seoul :: Plain White Dragon :: Toxic Breath Zuno
#5
into the sea, you and me
all these years, and no one heard
i love you, let's go


What even is the purpose of going to some place that exists only to suck up newcomers into herds that claim to be families, but in reality, end up being some of the most cutthroat places she’s even been? Is because she likes to let herself believe that Seoul would better herself from learning about the Threshold, that maybe in the future if someone drags them back into the lax, now obviously eggshell-ridden lifestyle of herds that she’ll know that they’re not crazy?
“Not go.”
Or maybe she could turn around under Hobgoblin’s suggestion, having already known full well that he’s right and that going isn’t worth it.
You can stuff your stomach in the woods before Frostfall makes for a good temptation for him to at least try to withstand this, but nonetheless fails. His views upon herds have been clouded from the start, but at the end of it all, they only managed to leave behind a firm, nasty taste in his mouth. Salt water and freezing cold temperatures, the lash of harsh words against teeth with tongues guided by minds heart-set on downfall and lies leave no room for improvement.
“Take away. Let know.” She can’t begin to let him know that she feels like that might be the best thing to do, running an uncomfortable, pained frown across her muzzle as he looks on in silence. Nothing creeps out of him spiritually except for the soft, distant hum of worry and hard-earned wisdom, something she’d never had guessed about him from the start, and the beginning of the fall to Hobgoblin simply not caring.
Maybe it’ll all be better then, written off in her thoughts where she hopes Hobgoblin’s reach won’t meet.
Either way, within fifteen minutes of their continuous wandering into the trees, Hobgoblin simply gives up in that way that he usually does, and at Seoul’s concerning crying from having to watch him fade into the trees, she takes the time to reassure her that after a while he’ll back to fight the battle again, relentless until there is either nothing left or Sikeax has no fight left in her, whichever one comes last.
Seoul is the one who finds the grouping, trading in Sikeax’s slow pace for her wings, trying her best at strengthening them as anxiety nips at her heels. The length of each flight comes out to right around five to six trees out from her bonded, landing on branches that never reach higher than ten feet. Every second spent in such locations is used up trying to catch her breath, her lungs and chest steadily growing a small ache as they heave.
It's during one of these instances of rest, keeping her eyes and ears peeled for any glimpse of Hobgoblin wandering about the trees, ignorant of the fact that Sikeax has a good idea of where he is, and the fact that she's already told her that he won't becoming back unless needed.
The one with the scales is the one she spots first, quickly making her way into excited chatter in her bonded's direction, who's steady walk means that she's not going to be making her arrival quick enough. His size, the fact that he reminds her of the dragon mare at the festival and the fact that he has fire above his head draws her attention in and keeps it glued. She lets the seconds tick away in shifting her weight from side to side on her hind legs, raised up so that her front talons can easily fiddle with one another in each others' hold.
It only goes to say that she's partially disappointed and nonetheless annoyed that Sikeax takes only a small amount of interest when she sees him, only keeping her eyes on him long enough to admire the oddity of his presence and to think about how strange it must be to have scales.
Her attention actually goes to other things, looking onto the colt who was Aithneil's son, one of the two that the mare choose over Tyrath, who is now her own blood. Malice touches her chest and claws its way into her heart with no time wasted, earning a bout of concerned chittering from Seoul and a slight rise in Hobgoblin's sudden notice of the situation. She doesn't particularly wish for him to make an arrival, not with the amount of attachment he feels at her son. There's not going to be a good way for him to feel at the sight of Mathèo.
You don't have to come.
"Don't care."

She doesn't give him the turn of the head and utmost attention that he likes to believe he deserves when he shows up. Seoul spares a few seconds to send him her greetings, but finds it wasted, for her brother is too busy in figuring out his feelings towards his sister-in-blood, eyes and mind firmly attached to her presence. A slight sense of approval rears its head around the corner at her choice of form, admirable even.
"It might be better to go back, unless you're into some sort of strong devotion to meaningless causes." Surprise lights up like a lighter in the dark, syncing up with the quick whip of his head that Hobgoblin manages. He nearly wants to ask, but the feeling of a hidden smile crawling over his vacant-appearing face holds him back.
Her eyes flick in the general direction of her successor's child, the bastard that she had been so proud of when she's so carelessly abandoned her first, leaving him to wilt in the desert until she came to find him. Some of them are going to be worse than the others, though. In case you need to make the choice." She's off of him before she thinks he'll notice that she means him, his mother, the entire cause that left her with nothing but loneliness and fear, a black smudge that she has to work desperately to hide each and every day and a companion who's flame once burned so violently and proudly that she never thought it'd go out, struck down under the weight of hatred.
Seoul is too young to understand, but the sensation of their hatred running its fingers along the innocent landscape of her conscious, she can only roll her lips into an awkward frown and glare, feeling some sort of guilt but pouring any trust she can find into the idea that they're right.

OOC: why is sikeax so hateful in the threshold i'll never know
Hobgoblin is in his wendigo form. Please only tag me when it's my turn to post so my inbox doesn't clogged up and me confused.

lunarblues!


you were angels,
so much more than everything

:: please tag me
:: minor force and power play allowed


Erasvet Posts: 2
Unclaimed
Mare :: Unicorn :: 14.3 :: 3
Minx
#6
Some might find Isorath’s nature to be condescending or even repugnant. Erasvet finds that bitterness to only make them all the more fascinating. The Sundancer is still held in the grips of childlike wonder with the world. She often ponders what has turned Isorath so bitter, so sour towards the universe and its inhabitants. That insatiable need for knowledge may have been what drove her to them in the first place, or it could be the mere need for companionship. Together they can pass the hours of travel with occasional chatter. Until their paths crossed the nights had been quite dense with loneliness. Erasvet a waits the onslaught of sarcasm and it comes as no surprise as Isorath opens their mouth to speak and it pours out. As usual, she decides to play along with it.

“Actually it is that particular stump to your left,” Erasvet says as she gestures towards it with her head. “It looks a tad bit too similar to one that we passed roughly fifteen minutes ago.” Her head briefly lifts upwards to gaze towards the sky, golden eyes squinting a bit before turning her head back to Isorath. When he speaks again her head tilts and for a long moment she thinks over his words, contemplate the practicality of it until finally she shakes her head. “If a tortoise is meant to fly then it would be created with wings,” she says, “just as if a bird was meant to swim as a fish does it’d have gills.” It is when the others start to arrive that Erasvet falls back into a place of silence. Both ears prick forward and she stares at the strange female that emerges. Part of her feels it is too convenient someone miraculously appears when they are lost.. Still her mind fixates on one word, a name, Helovia. So this place they’ve stumbled into has a name, she thinks to herself until another emerges from the forest.

“Looks like we have a welcoming committee,” Erasvet whispers to Isorath, not particularly caring whether the others hear them or not, because it all seems too peculiar that they flock to strangers in droves. Still, the second arrival gawks at them and she cannot help but find it amusing. The sundancer can only assume it’s Isorath that the others find impressive, with their scales and impressive wings. Her own focus shifts to the lion, sitting delicately. Is it a pet? Why would one tote around such a creature? She thinks and tries to fathom what precisely the creature is.  

“It is a pleasure to meet all of you,” Erasvet says at last. “I am Erasvet and my companion is Isorath.” She decides to not let them decide whether they will offer their name or not. These individuals with their pets may know the way out of this “Helovia”. When the third arrives, not offering any form of cordial greeting but merely an ominous warning she tilts her head “I do not believe either of us seek to devote ourselves to a cause. We merely wish to find a path from this place as we have been lost for some time. I presume you all are familiar with this…. Helovia.”  She glances between the triad of equines, falling quiet to wait and see what they might offer them.  


we have walking we have talking



image credits


@Isorath

☼ please tag Erasvet in all replies
☼ force/magic permitted with the exception of maiming/killing

Isorath Posts: 2
Outcast
Stallion :: Hybrid :: 17.2 :: Appears 4
Nova
#7
Kill your Kings,
march into their white sacred palaces,
and burn them


What had changed them? It was a question many had asked, and Isorath had no answer to give. The scars had never healed right, interlocked with one another so deeply, to pick at one would reopen them all. Words choked up in his throat and his tongue felt thick in his mouth. It was like describing the world in colours everyone else never knew existed. Erasvet doesn't prod the wounds, and they found themselves content with that, her open ears and patient demeanor do more for his wounded soul than he would ever realize. It's better to let the monsters slumber, than to chase them from their caves and lay them bare beneath the sun.

"Oh?" She huffed, a brow rose as lilac pools flicked their gaze toward the offending stump in question. The amusement flowed easily enough as a delicate looking leg stepped aside, "so it does. Look at that, you're one step closer to becoming the most observant creature in existence." There's much less bite in their words than last time she'd aimed her barbed tongue, but it does not mean her humor is without teeth. He's not surprised when the brief silence is then filled by Erasvet's own brand of wisdom in retort to his dislike of her lack of wings. She has a point, begrudgingly, but it is not something he'd wish to concede. This would have gone much more smoothly if they could have simply flown than walked, Isorath had never done well with confined spaces. The suffocating branches and thick canopy were eerily too close to the barbed wire forest of his mind.

Whatever words had formed on Isorath's tongue were silenced as Erasvet fell to a pointed silence, a clear signal that they weren't alone anymore. He shifted in place with a subtle movement of his porcelain hooves as their attention was drawn to the first visitor and her bird companion, one fluid motion that swung her scaled head toward the gilded appaloosa. It is strange, that much he would agree with his companion, that suddenly there would be strangers to guide them, when before there were none. The forest had been silent, except the sound of bird calls and annoying critters underfoot. Why now, all of a sudden?

Isorath offered no reply, and remained as silent as Erasvet did. Eyes pinned on the newcomer until a second one appeared. Helovia. Finally a name to this dreadful spit of forest and the lands they'd stumbled into. "I wonder where they were twenty minutes ago, then we wouldn't have been debating over whether the stump or the rock was familiar." She offered dryly in her dulcet tones, a porcelain ear dipped toward the flame coloured mare at his side. The grey and gold colt received a less skeptical look when glittering amethysts turned his way, if only for the way he gazed at her, and then to the companion at his side he'd introduced. Vanity was one of his lesser sins, and one he readily allowed himself to entwine around his pale body.

Again, he's beaten to the punch by Erasvet and finally his attention is turned back to her, but not without a brief wink aimed at the sunlit colt. "You have a terrible habit of beating me to it, Era, I'm starting to think you do it on purpose." He sniped with a irritated sigh, raising his head higher as the sunfire orb between his crowns burned brighter. "Trying to stop me saying something?" The third arrived soon after his words faded into the winds memory, and her warning only furthered added to the growing questions beginning to pile in his mind. The champagne mares words struck a chord within him, he had thrown his life to meaningless causes and he'd ended up like this. "Only fools dedicate themselves to meaningless causes, and we are no fools." He huffed with an airy laugh. "As Erasvet said, we are merely here to find an exit." She stated as a smile appeared on her pale muzzle, the faintest hint of sharpened canines poking from beneath her lips.

"So, tell us about Helovia." Her head tilted to the fraction to the left as she spoke, the braided tassels of her hair swung with the momentum as they framed her sharp features. Her attention flickered back to Matheo for a moment, then to the gilded appaloosa and finally to the champagne mare, a silent invitation for them to all speak. "Matheo mentioned something about the Dragon's Throat, I assume there are more places?"

"Speech."



Art by Rhiaan @ DA


@Erasvet
@Kiada
@Matheo

Kiada Posts: 181
World's Edge Nurse
Filly :: Unicorn :: 16.3 hh :: 2 years - Birdsong
Khairi :: Leucistic Lammergeier :: Paralyze Skylark
#8
history is written
by the victors
It didn’t take long before others arrived as well. She felt the eyes of the newcomers roam over her, her flames taking on deer of curiosity, roaming and grazing across her back, illuminating Khairi as he stood among them. The first face to show was a colt she vaguely recognized, but a name was lost upon her lips. Thankfully, he introduced himself and his companion, while Khairi’s scarlet gaze remained glued to the lioness, distrust of the creature billowing through the bond. Nevertheless, Kiada offered Matheo a small nod of his own before someone else appeared.

This unicorn was different, but not in the way a majority of them were. No, instead, she appeared with telling the strangers that they should simply leave. Kiada refrained as best she could from rolling her eyes at the sentiment, beginning to wonder what creature pissed in her grass this morning. Though, truth be told, Kiada had never been outside of Helovia, so she didn’t really have any experience to talk.

The fiery one began to talk, which caused Kiada’s inky head to shift from the Helovians to view who the two of them were, mentally placing their names to faces. As she says her companion, Khairi’s gaze dances around quietly searching for another creature, not realizing the mare had meant the dragon-scaled man. After a small mental prod, her crystal gaze remained on the duo as she continued, asking if they were familiar with Helovia. “You could say that.” She half mumbled, ears relaxing in a more comfortable stance as the dragonscaled began to talk once more.

There’s a variety of different lands, whether you choose to be part of a herd or outcast. I, myself, am from the World’s Edge. A place of mist, cliffsides, and a never ending roar of the ocean below.” She paused, ears lowering as if she was bored of speaking of her homeland. “There’s also the Basin, a place secluded among the mountains. Lots of snow, though, if you're into that sort of thing.” A small smirk crossed her lips as a small honeysuckle laugh escaped her. Then, her icy gaze drifted to Matheo and Sikeax in case they had more to add.

"Talk."
kiada
image credits || coding


@Matheo @Erasvet @Isorath

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.

Mathèo Posts: 65
Dragon's Throat Colt
Stallion :: Tribrid :: 17.2 :: 3 seasons
Delphi :: Common Rougarou :: Flame Odd
#9

The ashen cherub is far too understanding and in love with the world to understand the poison that coats Sia's words, or to even understand that anything is amiss. If she only knew that Aithniel left he and Luther in the care of the herd, to be raised by them rather than her, perhaps she would soften towards him. Perhaps not though. He had no way of knowing. Instead, he merely thought her anger directed towards any mention of the Throat. The Throat who, as he had learned from whispered conversations, had seemingly pushed her out. The boy understood Sia had some role to play in it, but he had been young at the time, and much of it had been above his paygrade anyways.

As the conversation plays on, Thèo gets the impression that there is some sort of bitterness in the air. Why all this talk of unworthy causes and fools? Kiada beats him to the punch, outlining the basic structure of the Edge and the Basin, and the tribrid nods his head in agreement.

"It might be worth mentioning that you needn't choose a herd at all. There are benefits of course, but if you wish only for an exit, you've already found it." His words are eloquent, dappled with the foreign accent he's picked up from having no particular parent and instead having been raised by the Throat as a communal whole. "Though I do have to say, with winter right around the corner, the Throat will certainly be the warmest place to be." A happy smile tugs at his youthful lips, and he allows the grin to warmly colour his features. He isn't here to recruit at all.

mathèo
I got a river for a soul
And baby you're a boat

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