the Rift


[PRIVATE] Eyes wide open

Erthë Posts: 440
Outcast atk: 5.5 | def: 8.5 | dam: 5.5
Filly :: Hybrid :: 14,2 hh :: 3 years HP: 64.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Chan
#1

The thin crust of ice burst into a million glittering shards as a pale hoof stepped through. Water, as frigid and clear as an autumn morning spilled up from the hole and soaked through the thin coat on her legs. Erthë smiled as she leaned down to drink, glad to be rid of the scorching heat of the summer sun; but it was a small smile, distracted and halfhearted. To be perfectly honest, she did not have much to smile about right now. Times had grown hard for everyone, and while the land slowly sank into the frozen torpor of winter everyone in Helovia walked around with a worried look about them, as though worried that this winter might be their last.

The little mare shared their sentiments. The gods had left them behind, and what was Helovia without its creators? How long would it take before magic fouled and turned against them, before corrupted creatures began to pour out of the earth and wash over them like some nightmarish tide? She had heard the stories of the wraith, had heard of the sky blackening and the magic disappearing, and though in her head Erthë knew that it was pointless to worry, she couldn't help but wonder what would become of them all. Like a tongue worrying at a loose tooth, she mulled over the 'what if's until her head swam with nightmarish visions and all she wanted to do was lay down and cry.

Annoyed at that notion, she slammed another hoof down onto the ice and broke it up, opening the ruby red pool until she could plunge her head down beneath the surface. Holding her breath, she lingered like that until black light began to flash before her eyes; only then did she re-emerge, soaked to the bones, the ivory curls damp and heavy with rushing water.

It helped, at least a little. But even so she could not help but sigh, because the knot of anxiety was still there at the bottom of her stomach, spreading its black tendrils of fear and doubt through her body, until the marrow rotted, the spine broke and her knees threatened to give way.

Fear was a disease, and she had not yet found a good way to cure it.

Big girls cry when their hearts are breaking
image credit to Neaqmir on deviantart.com


@Volterra

~| Use of magic and violence is always permitted |~
~| Please only tag in opening posts |~

Volterra the Indomitable Posts: 785
Dragon's Throat Sultan atk: 8.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 8.5
Stallion :: Equine :: 17'2hh :: 3 HP: 80 | Buff: SENSE
Vérzés :: Common Red Dragon :: Frost Breath & Toxic Breath & Vadir :: Royal Gold Dragon :: Fire Breath & Shock Breath Snow
#2
THE INDOMITABLE

HEROES ALWAYS GET REMEMBERED BUT YOU KNOW LEGENDS NEVER DIE

He sees her with her head bent down, pushed into the frigid water. His body becomes an arrow streaming through the crimson forest towards her, panic welling like a vent inside him as he hurdles fallen logs and slaloms around trees, their branches dragging at his skin in a vain attempt to stop him. He's already lost so much, the Throat taken from him and his crown with it - he does not have any desire to lose her, one of his oldest friends, she who is almost like a daughter, sister and desired lover all rolled into one. The sight of her bent double, head forced into the freezing pool, fills his mind with all sorts of dreadful scenarios - she has been paralysed and is drowning in degrees; she is trying to commit suicide because the world falling around her ears is too much to take.

By the time the Indomitable's massive body skids to a halt next to her, churning up a tide of chilled brown dirt in his wake, the pale young mare has lifted her face from the water. "Fasz, Erthë! What in the name of the Gods are you doing?" His voice is a roar, his thick muscles quivering in the afterglow of his anxiety for her. He'd really thought that he would need to tackle her from her watery grave only to discover that he was too late, that the icy lake had already consumed her life like a mosquito consumes blood.

He's so relieved to see her alive and well that he almost sags to the ground, held up only by the force of his anger. Volterra is not the sort of man for whom panic and fear are familiar friends - he's deeply displeased by the fact he'd felt them for this mare, and for no damn reason. Those emotions are precious, felt only in the most dire circumstances. Erthë and her idiotic flamingo impersonation has made him feel them for nothing, and he feels cheated, robbed, furious. He glowers down at her, heart racing, eyes flashing angrily.

image by neverr the glorious


Fasz = fuck

@Erthe

[ you can't stray from what you are, you're the closest thing to hell i've seen so far  ]
[ use of force/magic on him is permitted aside from death/maiming ]




Erthë Posts: 440
Outcast atk: 5.5 | def: 8.5 | dam: 5.5
Filly :: Hybrid :: 14,2 hh :: 3 years HP: 64.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Chan
#3

She recoiled in the face of his ferocious onslaught, those wonderful pale eyes widening in equal measures of surprise and delight at finding him there. His anger did not intimidate her in the slightest. On the contrary, the angry red gleam of his gaze was vaguely amusing, morbidly intriguing in the manner of erupting volcanoes or a car crash.

"I just wanted to cool my head a bit" she said, offering him a wide eyed look of mock innocence. "Looks like you could need it too - what is the matter Volterra, is the world ending or something?"

Blowing droplets of water from her lips, she sloshed through the ice and water towards the big stallion. Her petite frame was dwarfed by his massive bulk, but this too did not phase her. Many things in this world frightened her, but Volterra had never been among those. He had been a constant presence in her life, a familiar face in the crowd and a friend - perhaps not the closest one she'd ever had, but a friend none the less. They had bickered from the moment they first met, at this very place, but she had always found it to be good natured and fun - not at all like the venomous, threat-laced taunts she sometimes exchanged with Rikyn.

She had never thought of him as someone who worried overly much about others though, and seeing him this upset was curious indeed.

"Were you really that worried?" she asked, while biting back a little grin. Somehow that thought pleased her. At least there was someone who cared what she did...

Big girls cry when their hearts are breaking
image credit to Neaqmir on deviantart.com


@Volterra

~| Use of magic and violence is always permitted |~
~| Please only tag in opening posts |~

Volterra the Indomitable Posts: 785
Dragon's Throat Sultan atk: 8.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 8.5
Stallion :: Equine :: 17'2hh :: 3 HP: 80 | Buff: SENSE
Vérzés :: Common Red Dragon :: Frost Breath & Toxic Breath & Vadir :: Royal Gold Dragon :: Fire Breath & Shock Breath Snow
#4
THE INDOMITABLE

HEROES ALWAYS GET REMEMBERED BUT YOU KNOW LEGENDS NEVER DIE

He unleashes an angry snort at her words, stomping one massive hoof and pinning his ears flat to his scalp. "This is not a time for levity, girl." Does she not care that he was so worried? Does she find his expression, his posture, his concern, so amusing? Does she not realise that she should count herself very, very lucky that he's feeling these things towards her when normally he would give nary a fuck about somebody drowning themselves in a frozen lake? Arrogant as it undoubtedly is, Volterra thinks that she should feel herself blessed for having caused such pesky emotions to erupt in him, because, as she accurately deduces, he is not the sort of man to waste his worry except on those that deserve it.

He'd thought she was one of those select few worthy of his concern. Now he's not so sure, given her easy dismissal of his emotions - hurt flashes across his features, but it's quickly replaced by the familiar, and vastly more comforting, blazing mask of anger.

In his wake arrive his dragons, having both been taken by surprise at his sudden headlong gallop through the forest. They plummet like red and gold darts into the frozen red lake, screaming their joy as their large scaled bodies smash through the ice and disappear underneath. They emerge without fail each time, though; they are not made of soft flesh like Erthë. As the titan's breathing finally begins to slow, he fixes his glare more firmly onto the pale mare, noticing not for the first time how age has stripped away any girlish ungainliness and replaced it with smooth curves, with feminine contours. Is it morally wrong for him to notice such things when he's also known her as a foal, young enough to be his own daughter? No, he decides, because she's not his daughter, and he is a man before he is anything else.

The onyx monolith forces himself to calm, to try and soften the steel-edge gaze he's placed upon her. At her question he does not react, just stares her dead in the eye. "What do you think?" he retorts, his voice a baritone, animalistic growl filled with every emotion he's currently feeling - relief, hurt, and the traitorous pulse of lust.

image by neverr the glorious



@Erthe

[ you can't stray from what you are, you're the closest thing to hell i've seen so far  ]
[ use of force/magic on him is permitted aside from death/maiming ]




Erthë Posts: 440
Outcast atk: 5.5 | def: 8.5 | dam: 5.5
Filly :: Hybrid :: 14,2 hh :: 3 years HP: 64.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Chan
#5

Returning the steely gaze with her own level one, the young mare was silent for a moment as the seriousness of his retort reached her. The half smile faded from her lips, and a vague sense of shame replaced it as she realized that she had frightened him.

She. Had frightened Volterra.

The notion was so absurd that it took a long time for it to fully sink in. It was as if the two concepts of fear and the large stallion repelled one another, like magnets of the same polarity pushing the other away by its very nature. The man always seemed so confident, so self assured in that bull-headed, arrogant way, that it was nigh impossible to imagine him as someone capable of normal emotions.

But, she realized, that idea was ridiculous in and of itself. Of course he had feelings - he was alive, wasn't he? His chest heaved with breath, his eyes burned and as she reached out a small, cold nose to place it upon his neck, she knew she would feel the beat of his pulse right there, strong and persistent.

"I am sorry" she said quietly. "It was not my intention to belittle your concern. I..."  

But she was interrupted by the arrival of the dragons. Their entry into the clearing was as abrupt and unexpected as their master's had been, and as always their glittering splendor drew her attention away from everything else. Smiling widely at the sight of their raucous game, Erthë's mind filled with images of gold and crimson, of wing and claw and gleaming scales. Without meaning to, she laughed out loud in delight at the sight of them and turned back to Volterra with sheer joy brightening her features, renewed vigor leaving her legs all a tremble in a sudden urge to run or dance.

"I am happy to see you, my friend. All of you! It has been too long, how have you been?"

Big girls cry when their hearts are breaking
image credit to Neaqmir on deviantart.com


@Volterra

~| Use of magic and violence is always permitted |~
~| Please only tag in opening posts |~

Volterra the Indomitable Posts: 785
Dragon's Throat Sultan atk: 8.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 8.5
Stallion :: Equine :: 17'2hh :: 3 HP: 80 | Buff: SENSE
Vérzés :: Common Red Dragon :: Frost Breath & Toxic Breath & Vadir :: Royal Gold Dragon :: Fire Breath & Shock Breath Snow
#6
THE INDOMITABLE

HEROES ALWAYS GET REMEMBERED BUT YOU KNOW LEGENDS NEVER DIE

As quickly as the anger rises, it quells like the receding of a tide. He tells himself that getting so worked up about something so small is bordering on petty given the times that they currently live in, so he forces his body to relax and his breath to regulate as he looks at the pale mare in front of him. She extends her muzzle and whilst it crosses his mind to flinch away from the touch just to prove a point, he doesn't. He stays where he is, accepting the gentle caress upon the thick, knotted muscles of his neck and desperately trying not to think of how much he'd like to feel that cool flesh of hers in a vastly more expansive way.

Her apology bids his massive head to drop, a silent acknowledgement. "Then let us speak no more of it." Volterra holds grudges with the best of them, but not with her. He's keen to move away from his surprising display of emotion and onto safer grounds, the grounds when he is simply the monolithic onyx warrior rather than a flesh and bone man capable of worrying about his friends.

The mare unleashes a joyous laugh which takes the beast somewhat by surprise, and he stares at her as though she's grown another head until he realises that her reaction is because of his dragons. Yes, it is hard to remain miserable when their gold and red bodies twine through the air with such freedom, such devil-may-care that it's infectious. The brute forces a smile into place, and focuses on her words. "I was well, until the herds were disbanded. I was Sultan of the Dragon's Throat, you know, until the Sun God abandoned it. I am afraid I cannot contemplate happiness whilst I know Kaos is out there, doing what he wants to our Gods and our mortals." The passion and simmering rage in his voice is frightening, although the Indomitable does his best to regulate it. "And you? I have not seen you in many months, not since..." His voice trails off as guilt pulses through him - the last time he saw her, he tried to teach her how to fight, but succeeded only in almost killing her.

image by neverr the glorious



@Erthe

[ you can't stray from what you are, you're the closest thing to hell i've seen so far  ]
[ use of force/magic on him is permitted aside from death/maiming ]




Erthë Posts: 440
Outcast atk: 5.5 | def: 8.5 | dam: 5.5
Filly :: Hybrid :: 14,2 hh :: 3 years HP: 64.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Chan
#7

Against the icy pallor of her nose his body felt hot, scorching like black rock on a sun-baked plain. People always did, but though Erthë usually found this stifling and uncomfortable, she did not withdraw again as she usually did. It was comforting to feel the life pulsate within the big stallion, reassuring somehow as if her burdens of worry was eased by his mere presence. She was grateful when he let the anger fade; she wasn't in a mood to argue this time, would much rather talk about more pleasant things or even just stand around and merely enjoy not being alone.

Happy topics were hard to come by these days, however. Erthë sighed at the implication that Volterra was king no more, and as she replied she made to press her face closer to his broad neck - whether to comfort or be comforted herself was hard to say.

"I heard rumors" she said, "but I was not very surprised. The rank suits you, my friend... I am sure that once all of this madness is over with the crown will rest upon your brow again."

Though whether that was a burden he wished to keep she did not know.

"I've been well" she continued. Sensing his unease and guessing what might be on his mind from how he trailed off, Erthë gave the man a faint reassuring smile. "More than well, actually; the Goddess honored me by healing my old injuries not long after we sparred. I cannot remember feeling this whole and happy since... actually I can't recall ever feeling this good! I celebrated with a trip to do some exploration... it was only recently that I came back to these parts."  

Only to find her homeland teetering on the brink of chaos and a black cloud of foreboding looming over the heads of all she held dear. It made the little mare wish that she had never left, though what she could possibly have done to change anything she couldn't say.

"I'm glad to be home again... all things considered" she said, with a frown.

Big girls cry when their hearts are breaking
image credit to Neaqmir on deviantart.com


@Volterra - sorry, lost the first post I wrote and had to rewrite everything :| have the abbreviated and slightly less bold version.

~| Use of magic and violence is always permitted |~
~| Please only tag in opening posts |~

Volterra the Indomitable Posts: 785
Dragon's Throat Sultan atk: 8.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 8.5
Stallion :: Equine :: 17'2hh :: 3 HP: 80 | Buff: SENSE
Vérzés :: Common Red Dragon :: Frost Breath & Toxic Breath & Vadir :: Royal Gold Dragon :: Fire Breath & Shock Breath Snow
#8
THE INDOMITABLE

HEROES ALWAYS GET REMEMBERED BUT YOU KNOW LEGENDS NEVER DIE

He's surprised at how relaxed he is in her presence, and how much he enjoys the sensation of her skin against his own. She's extraordinarily cold, and he can't help the devious path that his mind begins to wander down...is she so frigid everywhere? Would it be possible for a man to awaken the fire inside her, watch it blossom until it consumes her in a pit of writhing pleasure and ecstasy? Realising his expression has grown rather glazed over thanks to his fantasies, the beast quickly shakes himself back into the present in time to hear her speaking to him.

"I pray it will. I always aspired to rule, but only now I've experienced it and lost it do I know how much I need it." He is incomplete without his throne, a lost puppy without an owner. Volterra was born to rule, and in the absence of a crown upon his head he does not feel as though he has any true purpose. He has already accomplished the highest rank of warlord possible, has sired many strong children and has powerful magic and dragons....what more is there for him to achieve, save reclaiming a herd for his own and elevating it to glory?

His ears prick with surprise as the mare reveals she has been healed by the Moon Goddess. "That is a relief. I am not the sort of man to worry or fret - today's events aside - but I confess that I lost a good deal of sleep due to my guilt over the damage I inflicted on you during our fight." Admitting this is difficult, but Volterra does not and cannot lie, so he tells the ice-mare openly what he felt. The stallion unleashes a sigh, a wistful and almost sad noise. "I am glad you are back, and restored to full health, but you have not chosen the best of times to return. I fear for Helovia, Erthë. The Gods abandoning their herds and Kaos's seemingly unstoppable grip upon the lands....it makes me think of a wild animal in its death throes, unable to stop the inevitable." His face is furrowed into a frown, his muscles tense and his tail idly twitching.

image by neverr the glorious



@Erthe

[ you can't stray from what you are, you're the closest thing to hell i've seen so far  ]
[ use of force/magic on him is permitted aside from death/maiming ]




Erthë Posts: 440
Outcast atk: 5.5 | def: 8.5 | dam: 5.5
Filly :: Hybrid :: 14,2 hh :: 3 years HP: 64.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Chan
#9

She sighed in agreement and turned her gaze back towards the frolicking dragons, eyes glazed over with worry.

"I know" she said, "but even if I had known I would not have stayed away. Helovia is my home, and though there isn't much I can do, I want to be here to see this through. Who knows, maybe my prayers can help strengthen the Lady goddess and aid her somehow."

The slender shoulders shrugged and she tried to smile, but it was a feeble gesture that soon faded back into the unease she so drastically had attempted to drown. In the chill air, the water had begun to freeze upon her icy skin, glistening ice and frost that peeled off in glittering shards with the slightest movement. No clouds of breath rose from her nostrils however, because the air within her lungs were just as cold as the one outside.

If Volterra was a creature of earth and flame, a behemoth with searing hot lava running through his veins, then she was a daughter of wind and water, all light and cold and frigid wastelands. Erthë was oblivious to the musings of the stallion, for she had rarely contemplated physical pleasure. A thinking creature, devoted more to the awesome powers and workings of gods than the carnal delights of her fellow mortals, she was innocent in ways that went beyond naivety and bordered on obliviousness.

Still. Upon hearing the stallion speak her name - wasn't that a rare thing, come to think of it? Usually he called her 'girl' or some other neutral and slightly degrading term - she gave him a little grin and nipped at his dark skin, eyes glittering with a halfhearted attempt at mischief.

"Do you think we could find some other topic to talk about?" she asked him. "I've been trying to take my mind off these disasters, but no one ever talks about anything else... I'd do anything for some peace of mind even if it's only for a while."

As hard it was for Volterra to admit that he had been worried, as reluctant was Erthë to admit to him that she was scared. She loathed being this helpless, subject to the mercy of others; it was a state she had tried to escape all her life, the reason why she had tried to spar with her broken body and pushed herself to the limit at every turn.

But though she wanted nothing more, it was impossible to hide it. The fear trembled within her voice, haunted her eyes and agitated the vast wings so that they constantly shifted and ruffled, never remaining static by her sides. Only the tail, long and prehensile, was quiet, curled tightly around a hind leg as if to comfort herself.

What else could she do, young mortal as she was, in the face of the awesome powers that were about to be unleashed around her?


Big girls cry when their hearts are breaking
image credit to Neaqmir on deviantart.com


@Volterra

~| Use of magic and violence is always permitted |~
~| Please only tag in opening posts |~

Volterra the Indomitable Posts: 785
Dragon's Throat Sultan atk: 8.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 8.5
Stallion :: Equine :: 17'2hh :: 3 HP: 80 | Buff: SENSE
Vérzés :: Common Red Dragon :: Frost Breath & Toxic Breath & Vadir :: Royal Gold Dragon :: Fire Breath & Shock Breath Snow
#10
THE INDOMITABLE

HEROES ALWAYS GET REMEMBERED BUT YOU KNOW LEGENDS NEVER DIE

Volterra does not believe in the power of prayer; even if he ever had, his illusion would have been shattered by recent events. The mortals could have begged, grovelled and screamed for the help of the Gods against Kaos, and where would it have got them? The Indomitable was perhaps guilty of placing the Gods upon a pedestal, revering them as omniscient, omnipotent overlords with the power to grant boon or blight upon anybody that came to them. If they are so wonderful, though, why have they abandoned their loyal subjects? "Whatever gives you hope," he rumbles, trying valiantly to keep the cynicism out of his voice.

His expression suddenly darkens again, although this time with lust because she's just planted a nip upon his onyx skin; it feels good, and he's reminded once again how his desire for this mare is doing a fine job of muddying his thoughts and polluting his mind. He itches to bite her back, to launch nips upon parts of her body that he knows will make her quake with need; he could have her writhing in ecstasy with the force of his teeth alone, yet with a herculean effort, he banishes these dastardly images once more.

He focuses instead on her voice. "What would you like to discuss?" He fixes her with his penetrative ruby stare, noticing how her wings keep ruffling and her tones seem to hold the haunted undercurrent of a woman frightened. Instinctively he steps closer, his anger at her forgotten as he presses one massive side against her in a gesture of comfort, in an embrace that he desperately tries to tell himself is just platonic and not because he'll use any excuse to touch her.

image by neverr the glorious

[ you can't stray from what you are, you're the closest thing to hell i've seen so far  ]
[ use of force/magic on him is permitted aside from death/maiming ]




Erthë Posts: 440
Outcast atk: 5.5 | def: 8.5 | dam: 5.5
Filly :: Hybrid :: 14,2 hh :: 3 years HP: 64.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Chan
#11

Sensing his lack of enthusiasm at her talk of faith, she bit back her desire to delve deeper into that subject. She had realized early on that few were as devoted to the gods as she was, and while she found it wasteful her teacher had taught her that religion was something very personal. It was not something one ought to shove down the throat of those who had no interest in it, but rather something to discuss and share with others of similar interests. She were to explain and teach those who were ignorant or curious, certainly, and maintain suitable levels of respect and courtesy within everyone else, but no more.

It was a shame, really. If there was ever a subject Erthë could have gone on and on about it was the Moon Goddess and her brothers, their powers and purpose and the role mortals played within this enchanted realm they had created. Inevitably however, such topics would steer from magic and prayers to war and struggles and right back to Kaos, and as she had just pointed out, it was a depressing topic.

"I don't exactly know" she admitted, in reply to Volterra's question. "I just..."

... and suddenly her eyes were swimming with black as she was enveloped in Volterra's warm embrace. The little mare was startled into silence and stood very still, wide eyed and disbelieving. Hardly daring to breathe, her mind reeled with the unexpected turn the situation had taken. It was hard to formulate into words exactly what it was that surprised her so; if it was the impulsive act of compassion from her macho, übermanly and standoffish friend, the fact that he had even noticed her distraught state of mind... or her own reaction to it.

It was not... unpleasant. Hot, of course. Warm, very nearly stifling, and burning where his body pressed into hers. She could feel every inch of skin tingle where his touch lingered, and as if in response to his high temperature a rare heat blossomed within herself, so unusual that the young girl barely recognized it.

Over the course of several alarmed heartbeats she struggled against the notion, the idea that this brotherly figure, this friend of hers could be able to affect her in any way besides general fondness and the generous familiar love she poured over everyone she knew. Her tension was barely noticeable, and lasted a mere instant... then the little mare relaxed and pressed herself a fraction closer, cheeks flushed with embarrassment and heart racing over her own daring.

But hey. He had started it. If he didn't like it, he could step away again, and nothing would have changed. Nothing at all. Right?

"... anything is fine" she managed to say, though her head was so full of new notions that it was hard to formulate anything remotely intelligent. "Just tell me something... happy?"

Big girls cry when their hearts are breaking
image credit to Neaqmir on deviantart.com


@Volterra

~| Use of magic and violence is always permitted |~
~| Please only tag in opening posts |~

Volterra the Indomitable Posts: 785
Dragon's Throat Sultan atk: 8.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 8.5
Stallion :: Equine :: 17'2hh :: 3 HP: 80 | Buff: SENSE
Vérzés :: Common Red Dragon :: Frost Breath & Toxic Breath & Vadir :: Royal Gold Dragon :: Fire Breath & Shock Breath Snow
#12
THE INDOMITABLE

HEROES ALWAYS GET REMEMBERED BUT YOU KNOW LEGENDS NEVER DIE

It is fair to say that Volterra is not the most observant man. True, he can spot an opponent's weakness from the far side of a battlefield; he can notice the slightest of limps that denote a weak leg, or the twitch of a muscle to determine what a foe is going to do, and these talents certainly require a level of observation talent. Yet outside the battlefield, the Indomitable is often oblivious to the more minute social cues, such as noting a friend's state of mind or a lover's attempted rejection.

It's a surprise to him as much as the pale mare, then, that he's able to spot her sour mood. Perhaps it's because he's known her so long; he met her when she was a mere girl (which makes his X-rated thoughts about her feel a tad perverted, but he reasons that there's not that much of a gap between their ages) so has watched her grow and therefore picked up on some of her tells. Perhaps, though, it's just good luck - or the fact that because the beast has lost almost everything he holds dear, he's keen to keep a tight grip on what he has left, and that involves offering comfort to his scarce group of friends and allies.

He holds their posture, absorbing every inch of her skin with his touch and committing it to memory. The ice-mare seems in two minds what to do, and for a moment Volterra thinks he's been too forward - he expects a proper bite, or a hoof to the shins, but she soon overcomes whatever misgivings she has and moves closer to him. "Mmmm," comes his low, involuntary rumble of pleasure as she leans into him - realising what he's done, his half-lidded eyes shoot open and he attempts to disguise the noise with a very false cough.

Tell me something happy, she requests. He doesn't know what to say - that being in her presence makes him happy, when the world falls apart around them? That being so close to a friend is a rare and unusual pleasure for him, especially when mingled with the more carnal feelings that he has for her? "Since the world may end at any moment, perhaps you should look at doing things you've never done before. Things you've always wanted to do, but feared the consequences of." His eyes are blazing now as he looks at her; it's clear what he's implying, and his heart thuds heavily against his chest in a mimic to hers. Will she understand what he means, even though he's trying his best to sound lighthearted and inspirational? "I suppose that's not a happy thought, more of a motivational one." He forces a grin and leans closer against her.

image by neverr the glorious

[ you can't stray from what you are, you're the closest thing to hell i've seen so far  ]
[ use of force/magic on him is permitted aside from death/maiming ]




Erthë Posts: 440
Outcast atk: 5.5 | def: 8.5 | dam: 5.5
Filly :: Hybrid :: 14,2 hh :: 3 years HP: 64.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Chan
#13

She may be young and naive still, but Erthë was far from stupid. Volterra's suggestion, however wrapped in impish laughter or mock innocence it might be, still made the young mare gasp involuntarily. For a moment she just stared at him, cheeks flaming visibly through the thin white coat of hair, though it wasn't long before the expression in his eyes forced her to lower her gaze. She wasn't ready for these kinds of things, the little hybrid thought to herself. Not prepared, well not mentally at least... Her body was responding alright, the blood pulsating through her veins with a kind of heat she had only associated with battle and conflict up until now. It frightened her even more than the madness of the world, frightened and enticed her at the same time.

If only it had been someone else. Then she might have been able to ignore the sweet, searing pulse, or even give in to it with reckless abandon. But this was Volterra. Her friend, her almost brother - and didn't he have some other mare already? He had to, if he had children - and was this not a very foolish idea? So much could change, so many fragile, wordless things could rend and never again be as they were...

"I... don't know.." she said, and trembled as he leaned in closer. Hesitant, tempted, flattered and terrified of the implications of his words. Did he not see her as a sister after all? Clearly, there were things here they ought to talk about, ought to drag out in the open and examine with level heads and unprejudiced eyes.

It wasn't that she did not like him. Rather the opposite. And if she answered the suggestion, no the challenge... What would become of them?

"I don't... want things to change."  

But she did not want to step away either, or part ways with the big, dark-coated stallion. The comfort of his presence offered her was real, and the temptation to let him distract her, utterly and completely, set her breath a quiver as she sought his burning crimson gaze again. Seeking reassurance. Comfort. Anything at all that might make the decision for her.

Big girls cry when their hearts are breaking
image credit to Neaqmir on deviantart.com


@Volterra

~| Use of magic and violence is always permitted |~
~| Please only tag in opening posts |~

Volterra the Indomitable Posts: 785
Dragon's Throat Sultan atk: 8.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 8.5
Stallion :: Equine :: 17'2hh :: 3 HP: 80 | Buff: SENSE
Vérzés :: Common Red Dragon :: Frost Breath & Toxic Breath & Vadir :: Royal Gold Dragon :: Fire Breath & Shock Breath Snow
#14
THE INDOMITABLE

HEROES ALWAYS GET REMEMBERED BUT YOU KNOW LEGENDS NEVER DIE

She just stares at him, and he wonders if maybe she's not as oblivious to the sexual side of life as he thinks he is. Could it be that she is actually a sultry temptress wrapped in the frigid furs of a young novice? That thought only adds to his existing ardour and he's hardpressed to keep any physical signs from displaying themselves. Instead he keeps his massive body next to her smaller one, revelling in each stolen touch and subtle caress as he enjoys the simple contact of her against him. She might spook away at any moment like a skittish fawn, but at least he will have this memory to hold onto.

Her words make it even more obvious that she grasped his hidden meaning, and he's torn between congratulating her on her evident ability to spot his salacious undertones, or flushing with embarrassment himself at the notion that he's not as subtle as he thinks he is. The Indomitable settles for the middle ground - listening intently, and feeling a pang of guilt at the way she's shivering. Disgust at himself rears up; how could he possibly proposition a vulnerable young girl at a time like this, a friend no less? For anything to happen would be taking advantage of her, and Volterra is a lot of things but he is not the sort of man to do that.

"Forgive me," he rumbles, reluctantly breaking their bodily contact even as his skin screams at him for his sins. Trying to do the right thing is a lot harder, and a lot less pleasurable, than doing the desirable thing, and he can't help but hope that she will quickly reassure him that there's nothing to feel guilty about so they can carry on where they left off. "It was not my intention to put you in a difficult situation." He even has the good grace to look ashamed, even as his body cries out to be beside her again, to take things further.

"I should go..." But he makes no move to do so, remaining a hair's breadth away from her; they're not touching, but she's still so close that he can feel the chill of her flesh. Volterra looks at her, allowing a small flame of hope to rekindle in his gaze - he'll take his cues from her, and go with whatever she decides to do. He can leave right now and pretend none of this happened, or she can choose to take the final step into untold physical pleasure. He understands her concerns about losing what they have, but in the stallion's rather simplistic mind, adding a carnal touch to any friendship will only enhance it, not ruin it.

image by neverr the glorious

[ you can't stray from what you are, you're the closest thing to hell i've seen so far  ]
[ use of force/magic on him is permitted aside from death/maiming ]




Erthë Posts: 440
Outcast atk: 5.5 | def: 8.5 | dam: 5.5
Filly :: Hybrid :: 14,2 hh :: 3 years HP: 64.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Chan
#15

Wait, what?

He was going away? Leaving? Why? All she wanted was a few reassuring words from him! A token, a gesture to show whether he was serious, whether he really meant what he was saying or really just teased and taunted and would laugh at her if she accepted the suggestion. Was that all it took to turn him away? A little hesitancy, a justified thought to what might happen with their friendship if they... if... well, if they did get a bit more... intimate. It might not be a big deal to Volterra but for her it was huge. Not only because it would be the first time anyone ever touched her that way, but because of the values her parents had displayed of love and camaraderie and monogamy.

No, Erthë was not so ignorant as to misread the situation but neither was she experienced enough to understand that for some, sex was just sex with no deeper implications. Nor did she have any understanding of her own reactions, physical or mental. It was all a big jumble of confused thoughts and impulses that tore her this way and that, and it got even worse when he pulled away and left her standing there alone with cold air rushing in to nibble at the raw, tender skin that had become accustomed to his warmth.

But the pale little mare was not one to simply stand there meekly and swallow what she felt like a rejection. In the midst of that tight knot of disbelief, a spark of indignation flared up and kindled a sudden onrush of anger.

How dared he just walk away!?

Within a heartbeat of his retreat, Erthë snapped her nose out at his hide again, but this time her ivory teeth were hard and punishing, outrage blazing through her eyes as she glared at him.

"Don't you dare take another step!" she said. "That's how serious you are about this? Is this some kind of game to you? You just waltz in, say whatever you want and jump right out again at the slightest hint that you might have to own up to your own words?"

She trembled again, quivered with the tension that rippled through her body but the hesitant anxiety had been replaced by anger, the only emotion Erthë had to fall back on when nothing else made sense.

"What am I to you, Volterra? Friend? Sister? Just a face in the crowd? How can you just walk away after turning everything upside down? Yes, it's a damned difficult position because now I don't know what you want or what I want, or what any of it even means!"

Somehow she knew she didn't make much sense, but it couldn't be helped. All the tension of the past weeks paired with the frightening and tantalizing new reactions of her body to his proposition had finally boiled over. To her infinite dismay the girl felt tears well up in her eyes and she tried to blink them away - Gods, why did she always cry like this, it was so humiliating! - but it was no use.

Again she tried to bite the big stallion, shoving her slender body against his massive bulk as if everything was his fault, as if by hurting him she would somehow be able to make sense of the whole mess inside of her.

It was completely unfair, of course. Volterra was not the cause, merely the catalyst of this outburst. But it felt good, oh, so good to be able to blame someone whom she knew could take it. Her bites, should they even land upon his already scarred hide, would hardly be damaging enough to bother him much. The difference in size, strength and experience was far too great, her attacks too mindless...

And, after all, she did not really wish to hurt him. Just... let him know how she felt about being left behind. That's all. It was he who started it, and now he better show some resolve and finish it too. He had kindled a fire, and lest it burn the world to the ground around her he'd better put it out again.


Big girls cry when their hearts are breaking
image credit to Neaqmir on deviantart.com


@Volterra - she's really unbalanced by this.. so rude, so sorry

~| Use of magic and violence is always permitted |~
~| Please only tag in opening posts |~

Volterra the Indomitable Posts: 785
Dragon's Throat Sultan atk: 8.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 8.5
Stallion :: Equine :: 17'2hh :: 3 HP: 80 | Buff: SENSE
Vérzés :: Common Red Dragon :: Frost Breath & Toxic Breath & Vadir :: Royal Gold Dragon :: Fire Breath & Shock Breath Snow
#16
THE INDOMITABLE

HEROES ALWAYS GET REMEMBERED BUT YOU KNOW LEGENDS NEVER DIE

Well. Of all the reactions he'd been expecting from her, this one was probably bottom of the list.

Her vitriol truly takes him by surprise - he stands there, dumbfounded, her words striking against him like bullets and her teeth landing a sharp and decidedly none-pleasureable bite against the thick muscle of his hindquarters.

She continues her tirade, and his initial shock quickly gives way to indignation. "I was trying to do the right thing as a friend by not forcing you into a decision that you might later regret," he retorts, his eyes flashing dangerously as he tries to keep his explosive temper in check. Now is really not the time to lose it, because recently such spurts of rage have come accompanied with an involuntary shift into his cerberus form. Transforming into a giant three-headed dog would probably not help matters, so the Indomitable does everything in his power to hold his temper in check, like a beast tethered within a cage.

This is the last damn time he tries to be a gentleman. Honestly, women!

"You want me to own up to my words, girl? You really want me to do to you all the things I've wanted to do for longer than I can remember? You don't know what you're dealing with, Erthë. I could show you things you wouldn't believe, and make you feel things you'll never want to forget, but if you think that it's going to turn into a childish fantasy about white knights and endless devotion then there's no point. This is real life, not a damn fairytale, and once you make this decision you can't go back on it. That's why I thought it best to back away, because I'd rather have blue balls than risk taking advantage of you." This is a new one - Volterra actually trying to talk a mare out of sleeping with him. Despite the evident indignation in his voice, the flashing of his eyes and the tightening of his jaw and muscles, there's also that undertone of lust that he just can't shake. For heaven's sake, why does this frosty woman shouting at him make him want her even more?

Another furious bite comes towards him, but this time the warlord is ready. He swings his massive frame out of the way and bares his own teeth at her, wolflike; there's no aggression in his posture, though, only raw passion. Virility gleams in each line of his body, testosterone evident in the arch of his neck and the thickness of his bulk; his rage only amplifies every primal hint of masculinity inside him. "Do you need me to spell it out? I want you. I could turn your world upside down, girl, but it concerns me that you may not just want what I can offer. In truth, you deserve a man who will be yours and yours alone, and I can never be that man - but I can give you this."

In a blaze of mingled temper and lust, he shifts forwards, seeking to press his body against her with renewed vigour. His teeth hunt for her withers, her back, her neck, each one aimed to ignite every last nerve in her skin, to send frissons of pleasure through her. He's fully aware that another bite may be headed in his general direction, one aimed to wound rather than arouse, but he's beyond caring. She can still push him away if she wants, but he's determined to show her what she'll be missing out on if she does.

image by neverr the glorious

[ you can't stray from what you are, you're the closest thing to hell i've seen so far  ]
[ use of force/magic on him is permitted aside from death/maiming ]




Erthë Posts: 440
Outcast atk: 5.5 | def: 8.5 | dam: 5.5
Filly :: Hybrid :: 14,2 hh :: 3 years HP: 64.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Chan
#17

He snapped back at her, that same anger that had initiated this whole situation and inflamed their entire relationship. Had they not argued the very first time they met? Had they not exchanged snide remarks, clever words laced in humor and irony but biting none the less all throughout their numerous encounters? Strangely, it comforted Erthë to hear his response singe her ears with vicious promises and wonderful threats. It made everything feel almost normal, as if nothing had changed and never would, as if they in mere moments would pause, glare at each other and burst out laughing at their own ridiculous intensity over something that really was quite trivial...

But she was wrong. Nothing ever remains the same. Everything changes, and they could never go back to what they had been. Erthë was burning, and Volterra's words lashed her like strokes of a whip, frightening her with their inescapable truth. She was repelled by it, entranced by it, spellbound by his virile intensity as hopelessly as if he had used magic on her. It really wasn't fair... How could he say that he was not right for her and still look at her with those eyes, as if he longed to sink his teeth into her flesh and devour her?

How was she supposed to resist him, when the sudden onslaught of his body on hers paralyzed her and numbed her tongue until no words could spill from it, even if she had known what to say?

It wasn't even that her fury abated. It was simply overcome by the red-hot jolts of pain and pleasure as his rough nips caroused her body, cruelly throwing oil on the flames while asking her to walk through it unphased. It was so confusing. He wanted her, but did he want her to want him back? Or not? Word and action felt somehow misaligned, and it was growing harder to think straight.

How was she supposed to know what she wanted when she could no longer discern what was right or wrong, good or bad? The gods had abandoned them, the Lady no longer watched over her and Erthë was lost, gone astray on a raging sea without a star to guide her. Was it so strange, then, that she would reach out to the first familiar face she saw? Was it so reckless of her to jump in without thinking, just this once?

What she really needed was time. To think this through, to search her heart and soul for a true answer, a right answer, to make a proper decision that was free from temptation or pressure or the childish desire to impress this man with her daring, nerve and fearlessness. But time was slipping away, and she had to decide now, before she lost herself entirely in Volterra's lesson.

With every ounce of willpower she possessed, the slender mare tore herself back, away from him. She thought it was the hardest thing she had ever done, and though it was almost painful to maintain the distance - his touch burning on her skin, the shimmering white curls tousled and eyes swimming with a pleasure that was nearly too much to bear - Erthë forced herself to take a long, good look at the stallion.

A long, quivering second passed. A second that felt as long as a life age, in which she did battle with herself and him and considered running away from everything he offered and threatened with.

But when had she ever run from a fight? It was not in her nature to back down from challenges, and it certainly was a major one he dangled before her nose. He'd said he wanted to back away before taking advantage of her... before she could do something she might regret. Well, that was too late anyway. She could and did carry the results of her own actions already, so what was a few more? Add them to the list, she would pay the price when her time came.

"I can take care of myself" she told him, with a haughty jerk of the neck and flashing eyes.

It was a mere second. Then she gave in to desire and drove herself back into Volterra, reaching for him as if he was the last straw that might save her from ruin. Would it hold, or would her leap of faith plunge her down into chaos and madness?

Only time would tell. She didn't care anymore, and had no thoughts left for anything but the present and the tall, dark stallion before her as she left her childhood behind, once and for all.

Big girls cry when their hearts are breaking
image credit to Neaqmir on deviantart.com


@Volterra

~| Use of magic and violence is always permitted |~
~| Please only tag in opening posts |~


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