the Rift


[OPEN] Cause I got high

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
#1
Ask no questions, and you'll be told no lies
She comes back to the garden late one evening, long after the sun has set and most of the Basin should be sleeping. It’s the perfect time to try some of the more recreational herbs Mortuus had told them about. She was curious what that Nymphaea might do. It’d been quite some time since she’d been high, and everyone once in a while it was just fun. Raven sits in his little makeshift nest in her horns as always, trying to be annoyed at her plan for the evening. But she can tell he too is a little curious, a little excited. Not that he’d be high, but it was basically a contact high for him anyway.

It takes her a little while to locate the garden in the dark, but eventually she finds it. It’s a clear night at least, the moon bright and the stars vivid, giving her plenty of light to see by. Because she doesn’t really feel like picking the wrong plant and killing herself. Not that it would matter, but dying hurts and she’s not a huge fan of it. Everything is stiff and tired when she revives, and though the wounds are always gone or the poison wiped from her veins, it takes her a few days to feel entirely like herself again. Sometimes she wonders if she leaves a little piece of her behind every time she visits Death. Perhaps he will take her in bits and pieces. Perhaps when she meets him for good, there will be nothing left of her anyway.

It doesn’t take her long to find the blue flower. It’s pretty bright and obvious, thankfully. Recalling what Mortuus had said, she stares at the plant. Used in aromatherapy, he’d said. Well how exactly what she supposed to do that? She lacked the magic to make a fire, and had never been all that good at it. Maybe she can find a few sticks and try though. Which of course means she doesn’t move, staring at the flower instead, trying to come up with an easier plan. Maybe she could crush it and huff the thing. That was definitely easier, so she rips up a few of them and smashes them beneath her feet, inhaling with her nose nearly touching the mangles leaves. Well, it certainly smells. Now to see if it works.

weaver

Image | Quote by Charles Dickens


@Albrecht

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

Albrecht Posts: 249
Aurora Basin Impersonator atk: 6 | def: 8.5 | dam: 2.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.1hh :: 19 (Orangemoon) HP: 60 | Buff: NOVICE
Strom :: Suma Ball Python :: None Townsen
#2
Albrecht&Strom
Another loose cannon, gone bi-polar, Slipped down, couldn't get much lower
The cold of the Basin seems to have seeped into the old stallions very bones while he rested and now it emanates from within with a life and breath of it's own, a haunting chill that’s inescapable in the cool and quiet of night. Despite the mild temperatures of Birdsong his skin puckers, his uneven coat standing stiffly on end. A shiver runs down his spine and he quickens his step as if to outpace it, angling himself toward the newly refurbished greenhouse.

Slipping through an opening in the panes, he spares a glance for the thin moonlight reflecting back at him as he passes, already repeating the herbalists descriptions of the plants within in his head. Euphoria. Tranquility. Better sleep. Any sleep would be better at this point, he silently gripes, shaking himself. His companion hangs lazily from one horn, trying to sleep despite his bondeds restlessness, largely unaffected by both the stallions unusual cold and the violent images that flash across their shared consciousness at rest, the jumble of places and faces all meaningless to him without the emotional ties of actual experience and those the old black refuses to share, feigning ignorance each morning after.

He’s pretty sure he remembers where the Nymphaea Caerulea is planted, but as his eyes adjust to the thicker darkness of the structures interior he realizes that he’s not alone. Both ears flick forward, hoping the crouched figure ahead is Mortuus himself, but Mortuus doesn’t have wings or giant swathes of white across his sides. He tries to remember the mares name – had she given one? He’d been so preoccupied with the roots and flowers that he hadn't bothered to listen to any introduction she might have given, but he does remember the grin of approval his questions had brought on and makes an easy leap of logic as to why she’s here.

“Any Luck?” He asks, only noticing the pile of crushed leaves at her feet as he steps closer. Mashed into little clumps by the mares hooves, they do have a certain scent about them. He edges closer, inhaling deeply. “It sounded like they're safe to eat."



"Talk."
OOC // @Weaver

image | coding
           
[Image: 56c616e54affc]Rated M, R, NC-17, AO, 18+, NSFW
Tag dat azz!  @Albrecht
Violence & Magic okay.
Wish - Away - OOC


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
#3
Ask no questions, and you'll be told no lies
Sleep was not something that eluded her, and therefore not something she sought. Weaver had never been the kind of girl to lose sleep over spilt milk (or blood, as the case may be). But of course, if you grew up with her mother, you couldn’t let things like blood and death bother you. She’d stopped the heart of an innocent mare in front of half the neighboring monarchs just to start a war with no purpose. Weaver had found herself dangled at a deathly height above the ground by a golden dragon in exchange. Not that it was a real threat to try and kill someone that can’t be killed, but her mother had given her the raven wings that she still has. Mommy dearest wouldn’t never catch her, but she’d make sure Weaver could catch herself.

She can damn well catch herself.

But euphoria and tranquility call to her in equal measure. Euphoria simply because why not, because slipping onto some blissful current sounds like an amazing way to spend an night. Tranquility because she has not been still in too long. Because she has not stopped and called a place home and the feeling of it is strange to her still, leaves her jittery and anxious to move. To get up to no good. And this, at least, is a harmless way to get up to no good.

A sound catches her attention, and she flicks an ear back and more slowly, turns her amber eyes to the source. The hairy, upside down, skinny stallion is there. Not that she’s surprised. He’d been the one to ask about the drug in the first place. Albrecht? Probably. “Maybe?” she says, feeling at ease but not necessarily high. “Not strong enough, though.”

She turns back to the plants and plucks two more, offering one to Albrecht by unceremoniously dumping it at his feet. Her head lowers slightly, giving Raven a really great view of Albrecht's own companion. Raven eyes snake in his horns with some combination of trepidation and hunger. He’s too small to actually hunt a snake, though she can feel him considering the possibility. You’d have to fly first, she thinks. Though he can’t understand the word, maybe he’ll pick up the sentiment behind it.

“Why is your hair like that? I mean, I’ve seen a lot, but that shit’s new.” She asks, and not because the drugs have kicked in and made her less inhibited. She’s got few inhibitions to start with. No, she just really doesn’t know what else to talk about as they sit there in the near dark waiting for some plants to whisk them off to la la land.

That, or maybe the plant really is working and she just can’t formulate a useful thought.

weaver

Image | Quote by Charles Dickens


@Albrecht

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

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
#4

I AM IRON AND I FORGE MYSELF

Wessex is was about as straight-laced as you get, owing mostly to a mother who set high expectations for her heir, and then to discipline the Mercs required. She knew full well what the rest of her company went to do on their nights off - they’d return to camp on unsteady legs, reeking of foul substances and often had well-adorned company with them. Without the ability to vomit, their mornings were the types of hell Dante would kill to write about. So our proud little soldier-girl steadfastly avoided indulging unto excess, which included most mind-altering drugs. Some monsters you only want to fight once.

The sound of voices nearby rouses the dozing soldier, who incidentally, did not sleep particularly deeply. Her ears fick back and forth, identifying one of the voices, and then wondering why they hadn’t noticed her - oh, her glowing side was conveniently facing away from them. More curious than anything, the horned woman ambles out of her leafy bed and towards the pair, immediately thinking that it’s a rather odd combination. Ah, but what does Wessex know? Comradery can be found in the strangest of places - just look at their crazy little Beloved.

Utterly oblivious (and isn’t that the fun of it?), she spies the flowers (unknown to her, as she was absent from the herbology lesson) and arches her brow in question. “Midnight snack?” she asks, because why the fuck else would they be searching for edibles (ha, ha, ha) in the non-medicinal section of the garden, in the middle of the night?

W E S S E X

image credit


@Weaver  
@Albrecht
-- please tag in all posts! --
-- magic and force allowed, no death or permanent damage --

Albrecht Posts: 249
Aurora Basin Impersonator atk: 6 | def: 8.5 | dam: 2.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.1hh :: 19 (Orangemoon) HP: 60 | Buff: NOVICE
Strom :: Suma Ball Python :: None Townsen
#5
Albrecht&Strom
Another loose cannon, gone bi-polar, Slipped down, couldn't get much lower
The thing about drugs is that they affect everyone differently. No one reaction is standard or even remotely guaranteed when every little detail about a character’s physiology can cause a substance to have greater or lesser effect, to entirely change the way it interacts with the mind and body. So maybe it’s because he’s an old bastard, or maybe it’s because he’s somehow managed to remain pitifully underweight despite living among abundance for almost two years, or maybe it’s just a matter of tolerance – more likely a lack thereof – his golden years having been too consumed with responsibility and much too strictly adhered to moral uprightness to leave room for any kind of indiscretion. Causation aside, when his wrinkled mouth picks up and begins chewing the proffered flower it doesn’t take more than a few minutes for things to begin to skew from normal.

One ear flops sideways, his expression uncertain, jaws still grinding away at what can only be a sloppy half-liquid of plant particles and saliva now, the old stallion reasoning that breaking down the substance completely might yield more effect than simply digesting it in his stomach acids. Though initially skeptical, he does admit to himself that the mildly bitter taste is making him feel something, lighter perhaps, mostly around his head and neck, and though he tries to swallow the excess saliva his chewing creates he can’t quite seem to keep up with it, his lips becoming visibly coated and eventually drooling a strand of green tinged spittle that melds into the auburn of his beard.

Sexy, he quips internally, earning a short chuckle from his companion, and then the mare is speaking, asking actually, which seems a lot more imposing than it should, the prospect of having to sort out his tongue – is it swollen? He wonders. It feels larger than normal for sure, kind of lethargic – and form coherent sentences almost exhausting in itself. Oddly, the feeling of effort doesn’t prick his temper.

“Cush oh yew a lotta news hit.” He fumbles, grinning in joint amusement at the suggestion and the obvious ineptitude of it's delivery, which causes a second strand of saliva to stretch downward from his bottom lip, the bearded flap of skin drooping lower and lower, as if striving to detach itself altogether, and to the stallions further amusement that's not the only thing that's dropping. (It's his dick y'all.)

Just then another figure enters the greenhouse, this one wingless but no less decorated because of it. "Jes lookit tis!” The stallion blurts, illogically pleased that their little rendezvous is growing in size, completely at odds with his usual hermit-esque tendencies."Shez got facking DILDOS ell uver'r ed. DAT shi's weird. At leas' mines whar i's pos'd te be.” Just to be sure, he gives himself a waggle, ducking his head between his front legs to ensure that everything is as it's supposed to be down there, his companion first wailing and then laughing hysterically as he loses his grip and falls to the ground in front of his bonded.

Upside down and staring into the drooling, sloppy face of his beloved, only the mystical bond between companion and equine gives evidence of his otherwise unreadable expression, the lack of lips or eyelids really minimizing observable emotion on the python's features.

Well, that's a first, they think in unison, the stallion laughing too now, neither one self-aware enough to be embarrassed.


"Talk."
OOC // xD @Wessex @Weaver

image | coding
           
[Image: 56c616e54affc]Rated M, R, NC-17, AO, 18+, NSFW
Tag dat azz!  @Albrecht
Violence & Magic okay.
Wish - Away - OOC


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, and you'll be told no lies
It doesn’t take long for the drug to hit Albretch. He goes a little lopsided and limp real quick, and she has to refrain from laughing. The only reason she doesn’t laugh is because quite possibly she looks as stupid as he does and doesn’t even realize it. Though she’s pretty sure both ears are still alert, though soon, she feels a little light she’s floating. Maybe she’s a balloon, floating away and soon she’s going to bump into the greenhouse roof. Would she be heavy enough to break the glass and keep going? No, she doubts that. Because she’d just be floating, bumping around the ceiling.

A grin splits her face. Probably a little crooked, but on her, the effect is likely just mischievous. Which seems like the appropriate response to his answer, but she’s not sure what he said. Something about cushioning, maybe? Or maybe her mind just goes straight to that particular train of thought. She’s not sure, and she kind of doesn’t care because she’s too busy feel light. Light as a feather. Light as…light as a bird! Raven caws, annoyed, because the emotions running through their bond are completely ridiculous right now. He can’t follow most of it except for something airy and ridiculous in it all.

There’s a half-assed idea formulating in her head. Is she small enough to fly around this place? Probably not, but maybe she can be smaller. Demonstrate how awesome being light as a bird is to her bird-brain of a companion. Raven knows her mind is up to something and he caws again. Her planning comes to a screeching halt when someone joins them though.

She would know those horns anywhere, high or not. But apparently Albrecht is not so familiar with those horn, and she breaks out laughing at his reaction. Even Raven is finally amused, watching the snake and the stallion examine his man parts. “Who’s are bigger though?” She says, her words still coherent unlike her counterpart, though her mind is slightly foggy. Everything just feels nice, and everything is covered in the haze of pleasant lightness.

Then her attention turns back to Wessex, and she grins, kicking a plant in the dino-lady’s direction. Not that she thinks Wessex will join them, but she’ll be a gracious hostess. “A midnight snack would be good,” she muses aloud. A real snack. But the idea of grass isn’t interesting enough, so she doesn’t go. Instead, she goes back to trying to get Raven to actually fly. If only she were smaller.

Light and small.

And somehow with that thought pain rips through her, muscle and bone tearing and reshaping. Raven caws, leaping off her back and gliding gracelessly to the ground. And suddenly, Weaver is light and small. She looks up at Wessex and over at Albretch with his head upside down and his snake on the ground. She knows she’s shorter than them and all, but not this short. She looks down to find talons instead of hooves and nothing but black feathers. When she tries to speak, all she manages is a caw.

Well hell, this is new. Or maybe this shit is just really, really strong.

weaver

Image | Quote by Charles Dickens


@Wessex

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

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
#7

I AM IRON AND I FORGE MYSELF

Weaver kicks the flower in her direction, in what Wessex takes as an invitation to partake in whatever they’re having. She’s about to reach down to smell the plant when the old man breaks into raucous laughter - and Wessex is the cause of it.  At first she’s rather perturbed, having knowledge of what dildo’s are (thank you, mercenary experience - you think sailor’s language is rough, try a mixed company merc group), but knowing full well that they dont naturally sprout out of one’s head. And she’s a girl, with no desire to interact with the male reproductive system.

She could threaten him over it, but there’s no fun in that, and besides, they look like they’re having a good time. So with a derisive snort, she snatches the bloom off the ground and chows down. “Mine are, she says definitively, in between great chomps, shaking her head in his direction, as if to emphasize them. A far as proper placement… these are her lady balls, as far as she’s concerned. Capable of mass destruction, the things that give her courage in the face of danger.

While the tank may be a ‘big’ mare, her tolerance for other substances is low - especially for substances she’s never tried. It doesn’t take very long before she’s starting to feel… different. Man, her horns are awfully heavy. She blinks, trying to shake the weariness and cobwebs from her head, but it just doesn’t go away. Then her hooves feel like lead, and she takes a peek at them. Yep. Still there, still normal. Huh. She lifts one, then the other, and yeah, they still feel heavy. But there’s something else tugging at her mind, so she looks up, just in time to catch Weaver’s transformation into a… a… raven? Like her companion? Wessex bursts out laughing, cause oh man, that is just too funny.

Weaver’s A RAVEN!


W E S S E X

image credit


@Weaver  @Albrecht
-- please tag in all posts! --
-- magic and force allowed, no death or permanent damage --

Albrecht Posts: 249
Aurora Basin Impersonator atk: 6 | def: 8.5 | dam: 2.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.1hh :: 19 (Orangemoon) HP: 60 | Buff: NOVICE
Strom :: Suma Ball Python :: None Townsen
#8
Albrecht&Strom
Another loose cannon, gone bi-polar, Slipped down, couldn't get much lower
Things get a little difficult to follow once the drooling and the laughing and the not hating everything in sight for once start, but he’s pretty sure Weaver wasn’t so small just a few moments ago. He’s pretty sure she had more of a neck on her and not such a pointy face or ass too. Shit, he thinks, does she even have an ass now? Where did the rest of her even go?

The old stallion blinks heavily, cocking his head and furrowing his brows with an obvious effort, struggling to keep track of his own thoughts. He glances back and forth between the dildo-face and the suddenly-raven, unable to make sense of the images that seem like a wild bombardment of action his sluggish mind. He doesn't remember Mortuus saying anything about hallucinations.

"Yuhsee ‘his?” He slurs to his companion, too high to manage telepathic speech, but the python is too distracted to answer anyway, his limbless body twisting and rolling on the ground in some bizarre display of euphoria, rubbing himself again the grass and his own disunited coils like a cat in a field of catnip, his little forked tongue lashing the air nonstop. “Yer high as fuuuuuuck.” The stallion chuckles, bending down on his knees to prod at the snake, smearing saliva across both of them as he lists over and onto his side, ears flopping loosely atop his head. “Feels good man. Should do this more often.”

"Did you say summing?"
He asks the spikey mare, suddenly feeling as if he remembers the sound of her voice, but is unable to put the syllables together into words again in his memory. Everything about him feels detached, heavy, his mind and body delayed considerably between thought and action, and now that he's laid himself flat out between the rows of plants in the greenhouse he can't begin to imagine ever rising again. The earth seems to lean into him rather than the other way around, only it's solid presence holding him steady beneath the sensation of whirling all around him. He wonders if the feeling is a part of the drugs, or a direct link between his own mind and that of his still writhing companion, experimentally reaching out and fumbling to hold the python still.



"Talk."
OOC // @Wessex @Weaver

image | coding
           
[Image: 56c616e54affc]Rated M, R, NC-17, AO, 18+, NSFW
Tag dat azz!  @Albrecht
Violence & Magic okay.
Wish - Away - OOC



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