the Rift


[OPEN] Blind leading the blind [acceptance]

Noah Posts: 59
Aurora Basin Soldier atk: 4.5 | def: 7.5 | dam: 7
Stallion :: Pegasus :: 16.3 :: 3 HP: 64 | Buff: NOVICE
Riven
#1
During the initial journey south – sent on first assignment to recruit – Noah had made a very conscious effort to capture and memorise a stand-out selection of landmarks along the way for clarity of direction, when the time came to return; now, soaring on high upon the wingspan of an mammoth-sized eagle, shrewd, aqua eyes begin to hunt for the first. The blur of undulating earth they cover is a stew of vivid autumn hue, weathered gold, and copper, almost as picturesque as the sunset they flee. An attentive glance is turned rearward, distracted for barely a minute, to monitor the young creature in his slipstream who had so obligingly agreed to trek back as his company; she is unlike his dove - bold and better confident, fit both physically and mentally - so he feels alright turning a solitary ear towards her and keeping their momentum forward moving.

If they can just hold this vibrant pace they are managing, it will take the better part of two days and one night to arrive.

At last, searching eyes fall upon the shadowy contours of stacked granite and the shroud of glittering mist wrapped around it. The falls (which he has visited now thrice, on occasion), plunge powerfully into the sparkling depths of cool water below; an intricate canopy of varying hues frame its glaring centre, concealing winding, bucking trails interwoven like veins through the great hilly forest. Soon they are past it, and Noah sets his mind towards the next milestone -the place that would bed them overnight, the very foothills of the arctic. They arrive there late evening, and Noah gestures kindly to his pale-skinned companion, to make herself comfortable. His restless mind shares not the fatigue in his bones, so he stands by instead, and tells her of his adventures with Nora (by-passing the detail of their most intimate night); of the God of the Earth and the aliens, and all he knows of the different Helovian territories.

When at last he does sleep, gentle dreams paint to life the most beautiful of his memories – and his beloved dove is the light.

As the dawn slithers down through the cold shadow of night, Noah stirs back to life and works to prepare them both for the final leg (if he can help it). With the reddened crown of the sun peeking over the far, eastern horizon, he bids their little grove farewell and ascends into pregnant cloud. The previous day had been remarkably clear, and sailing between heavenly-highways had been conveniently effortless; this time, however, the icy flavour of high-altitude moisture gnaws savagely upon his chilling joints. He gestures down with the flared feathers of one wing and begins a slow descent – choosing instead a path just clear of rebel trees (there are few and those that defy the harsh climate on the tundra, are ugly with gnarled half-naked fingers). It is fortunate that a stiff southerly blasts up from behind, for the speed that is lost to the lesser elevation, in turn, is bolstered, by the brewing, moody squall.

Finally, when the bruised tone of evening is sapping light (for the cloud has only intensified, robbing the day of golden hue), from the sky, Noah spots the break in the savage range that he’s been desperate for. He calls out to his charge, excitement fuelling each word, "we are here, Zona! At last, we’re here…” And as they slip through the clandestine pass, the old, rusted sentinels snag his eye; always they taunt his resolve. Well beyond them, he falls to the grass and slows gradually to a stiff-legged walk (each limb tingles testily beneath the insult of his weight); wings swing low, burning with the strain of exertion. Though first and foremost his thoughts seek out Nora, he makes a path towards Zona and meets her with a panting smile.

"This is the Basin.

I was told to find a guy called Erebos once I’d… well, now that you are here. So, uh, keep your eyes peeled for a tall, dark guy with a sharp looking stick on his face.”
Eyes grazed the side of the mountain behind her – scrutinising the vacant hole thereupon it – and he wonders with a sinking stomach, where his painted darling is so late in the day. Never the less, he begins his search in a north-easterly direction, scanning the (mostly) unfamiliar faces of any who they find.



Note: @Zona @Nora  & Any | you are welcome to browse Noah’s threads after leaving the Basin with Nora for his experiences. He learns of the lands in the thread ‘Visitors’.
Noah
I was born a warrior
I was born a warrior
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Please tag me in openers and spars
Permission for all except death
(no need to ask)

Zona Posts: 7
Aurora Basin Mare
Mare :: Pegasus :: 15 hands :: 2
Zil
#2
Once free from the threshold, Zona and the stallion Noah had taken flight. As always she felt a slight sinking of her stomach as her wings lifted her up, then the joy of actually being in the air, her wings spread and catching the light of the sun with a slight glow. It was not magic, but just her coloring that made her seem so bright in the light. The winds guided them both through the day, she behind the stallion a pace or so since she did not know the way.

They made land as night was falling and she listened to his tales with bright eyes and happy smile. The mare slept after he drifted off, her red gaze watching him for a few moments to make sure his was a restful sleep before going to the dream world herself. Noah awoke her as the sun was rising and once again they were with the winds, flying over lands that fascinated her. Zona blinked as the stallion lowered before they reached their destination, following suit with a slight thought of why he would do such a action.

Zona did not know the airs enough to know why he chose to lower. Still, she would follow with trust as they continued on their journey. They passed more lands, and right as the sun was once again lowering and she was wondering when they would land to rest again, Noah's voice broke through her beginning fatigue. "We are here, Zona! At last, we’re here…” her spirits lifted as they lowered to land in her new home. Once on the ground, she let her gaze wander openly until the male was within her presence, reaffirming that this was her new home, and to keep a eye out for a certain stallion.

Noah's own gaze seemed searching as he looked over those around them. Zona gives a small smile as she too searches for the one he had mentioned....Erobos.

331 words; @Noah @Nora
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Nora Posts: 52
Aurora Basin Mare
Mare :: Pegasus :: 14.2 :: 3
Angel
#3
Our gypsy summer has concluded. Reentry into the winter kingdom gave me a sense of predictability, security. Though, (as is the way of the world) an exchange for our occupancy was required. The fare for roof/pasture is duties, responsibilities. Obligations stir my beloved eagle from the warmth of our bed. And as he returns to those grey-blue skies…the tingling, choking memory of our farewell makes my skin prickly and remorsefully cold. His naïve guarantee warbles in my ears. Ignorance wasn’t available, it couldn’t ease my concern with soothing, false promises. In this…I knew better than he. Who else has suffered first-hand at insanity of whim? Surrounded by fiends with banded fur; callous, triangular eyes and frozen hearts?

Life…is a sadistic lunatic.

Selling assurance to suckers who’ve become ignorant enough to have faith in falsehoods. There is NO oath, NO promise that would see him returned without fail…I could only wait for the eagle to emerge from that copse behind those walls. And spar against voices of negativity in my head. He’s long gone…but his name invokes a slideshow of portraits, to which my fayed self-esteem embraces and clings upon. A plea of opposition, the rejection of fabrication that danger would stalk in his shadow, “be safe.”

The nights to come are frosted with emptiness; fatigue intensifies, but only in the early morning hours does bleeding desperation ease off my sleepless soul…a fitful rest would come, offering a small moment of reprieve from sickened dread. But during the day, suppressed terrors take advantage and circle that stormy, internal turmoil like vultures following the scent of rot. Idle skepticism hisses from those blackened crevices, ‘your novelty wears thin.’ They cackle and sneer; poisoning, doubling the smog of discontentment until at last…I bare my teeth and snap at those jeering, intangible faces inside me, ‘stop it!’ Eyelids pinch shut, drowning those voices with the thunder of hooves.

Physical excision seems to occupy the demons in my head…

As do other things…

My subconscious has little patience for sullenness and unproductivity. She, the quiet resolve of logic, redirects and acts as guide…comforting frayed concern with purpose, ‘you aren’t alone,’ her eyes fall tenderly upon the swelling in my midsection.

Chores are called to arms.

‘A den,’ she suggests. The snug walls of that old accommodation have long rejected my entry. ‘Seek a new one.’ Inspiration contrives a scene; but the cold, hard floor wouldn’t be suitable to nest upon during labor and birth. ‘Find comfort.’ Reeds of sweet barely, foliage from the depressed foothills (still untouched by frost,) lichen from rocks and the feet of towering pines. Instinctual, maternal strength washes my entirety with ambition.

-------

Narrowed, yearning focus skims the bulbous line of merciless pinnacles. From this grassy plateau, they can just make out the rickety slope leading out into the wildness; and beyond, the iron heads of monuments. With numb concentration, I drive these jaws into the knee-high reeds; mouthfuls of grain are pulled upward, some dragging their roots... Gently, the tawny rods are dispensed on a mound of drying comrades. I’d haven’t found a cave suitable in size and depth – but these decaying annuals could be gathered/stored before the first snowfall made them moist and useless.  

Optics flick up, addressing that habitual desire to obsessively check on the ridge line…as if something might change in the few seconds… Optics squint, peering into the bluegrey canopy from afar. Two outlines…feathered! These forelegs tremble, the drug of elation is shot into my bloodstream. They break upon the scene and my pulse leaps into overdrive. The leader (also the largest of said pair) is who holds my attention. I could make out the curve and length of those arms; the pale abundance of hair and…bronze flesh as it fleets into view of that overcast sun. He’s…back! Mini me jolts awake. Relief clones itself, becoming lodged in the back of my throat; coiled knots smother the wild cry escaping these quivering, excited nostrils. Noah! Painted limbs rotate into action. Abandoning (for the moment) my remedial, therapeutic chore.

Snug feathers unhinge from their sheath, allowing the cool air to pass beneath. Dials prick forward, eager to dine upon the beautiful music of his voice. Ravishing hunger has taken control. My subconscious gracefully accepts the internalized mission to delve into that tender, sweaty heat of masculinity. These lips already strain, pleading for his metallic neckline, desiring the feel of milk and honey flesh. Those voices of negativity now cry to blaze a trail of burning kisses; delve myself in wild cords of unruly silk...

OC:

@Noah

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
#4
Яikyn

It has been a good season for new faces; along the borders of the herd land, a trio of winged figures clusters together, and I look to them from my approach with notice that only two are familiar. The third, pale white as a winter mountain with eyes like two fires burning upon the tallest tower, is the one who I fasten my gaze on, however, not the sort of fellow who understands the sort of emotional, loving greeting being shared between Noah and his Nora, let alone one who wants to look at it.

The arrival will fit in well, especially with the coming snow, the ice of the fall promising that the coming drifts will likely be deep, and unruly. Trying to remember to get a team together to prepare for it, at least as much as possible, I can’t help but think but wonder just how skillfully she will meld into the world around her, becoming a ghost. Despite the fact that she is yet another pegasi in my ever changing homeland, inspiring a tumultuous conflict of emotions within me, I find that, slowly, day by day, I am more easily coming to the acceptance that Helovia is not the place for my mother’s ways.

Wondering if the pallid pegasus also has the skill sets for tiptoeing unseen in the snow the same as she does the coloration for it, I close the final distance and smile in greeting, Duir stopping alongside me with a friendly bleat extended to the growingly familiar winged couple.

"Hello Noah, Nora," I say, nodding my head to them both, but look at the stranger next, ears lifted, "I’m Lord Rikyn, and my companion is called Duir. Who are you?"




there's no place to hide down here
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@Noah @Nora @Zona

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

Noah Posts: 59
Aurora Basin Soldier atk: 4.5 | def: 7.5 | dam: 7
Stallion :: Pegasus :: 16.3 :: 3 HP: 64 | Buff: NOVICE
Riven
#5
Every so often, as he leads north from the borderline – a safe distance beyond those awful, iron statues – the painted-eagle returns his thoughtful eyes back to the alabaster woman. No sign of discomfort creases the brow beneath her forelock, and neither does she seem to hesitate as the residents of the valley pause their business to stare at the (once loathed), birds in their midst; he nary acknowledges them, for he is yet to find peace in  this frigid land. When the narrow trail he is following forks abruptly, the stallion pauses to note, “there are winds that render our heavens inaccessible above this valley, the only way in or out is that pass...” nares flare around a heavy sigh, and he gestures for a second, back the way they had come.

As he continues thereafter quietly down the route that should see them to the lake, a sudden flurry of movement ahead prompts him to pause with wings unfurling and thighs clamping tight in anticipation; she sweeps down across cool, dewy grass at a great rate of knots, willowy ribbons of hair streaming, framing the chiselled curves of her small, sophisticated face, and Noah’s lurching heart fills to the brim with a chorus of whining insects. "Nora," honeyed tones croon as the warmth of her skin collides into his tender embrace. Though he has only been apart from her three nights – it feels to him like an eternity - his caring, discerning eye perceives an even rounder girth than before. Into the soft, fragrant waft of her mane he hums gently, concernedly, “are you both well?” Without reserve his lips fuss affectionately across that thickening brown canvas, cleansing it of dried spur and seed.

After a time, his eyes seek the scarlet gaze of the newest to Basin. "Sweetheart, this is Zona, we met in the Threshold," he reveals easily, undertone suggesting the depth of their blossoming bond, while a courteous smile feeds through the small space between the couple and she. "Zona, this is Nora who I was telling you about." Placing a quiet kiss upon the cheek of his lover, the eagle unwraps himself from around her tiny frame – there would be time for fonder rekindling, tonight, beneath a moment of sweet solitude (he certainly look forward to it). Not long after, the shady silhouette of a horned-one wanders forward; Noah recognizes the golden-eyed stallion instantly.

"Lord Rikyn, Duir…" the watching eagle responds modestly to the very pleasant greeting. Turquoise pools dance around that spiralling spike, brazenly searching for the droll wit which had flanked their very first introduction. Though he had seen the other here and there in the valley of cold, their paths were only now crossing for the second, ever, time. "I was asked to bring a recruit from the Threshold. Conveniently, Zona here was looking for a home." Enormous feathers fidget above the slow rise and fall of his barrel. He could only presume that she would be welcome to stay, and so ignored the thought to ask; instead, he put forward a compliant expression and asked,  "...is there another assignment you would have me complete?"
Noah
I was born a warrior
I was born a warrior
Image | Coding

@Zona @Nora @Rikyn
Plots | Absences | Wishlist
Please tag me in openers and spars
Permission for all except death
(no need to ask)

Zona Posts: 7
Aurora Basin Mare
Mare :: Pegasus :: 15 hands :: 2
Zil
#6

White head made a polite bow to the female that Noah had spoken of the night before. It was easily spotted that the mare was heavy with young, and a wistful look came to her features. Then her attention was diverted to a new stallion arriving. Eyes and ears perked up whilst she took in the sight of the dark skinned male. Zona also looked to the deer and then bowed her head to both. "I am Zona, I hope to be helpful to your herd here"

Then she lifted her head with a warm smile. Feathers ruffled slightly, and she looked around "I see already you have a wide variety of equines residing here...and is this snow?" her hoof moved a little, moving some white powder. "Is it not summer here??" at least it had been that warm season back home...or almost summer where she had come from. The white mare lifted her gaze from the white "Or do the mountains affect the weather here in such a manner?"



the
Aurora Basin
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170 words
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