the Rift


I Will Play My Game Beneath The Spin Light [OPEN]

Ailith Posts: 47
Deceased
Mare :: Equine :: 15.0 HH :: 8
Adoptable
#1

No matter what we breed, we are still made of greed
This is my kindom come, this is my kindom come





Bathed in a white light, she moved through the Threshold like a wraith, seemingly weightless in such a way that it appeared she was soaring. Frost laced her face as hot breath was pressed from her lungs, although no struggle was apparent in the way she moved. Her long back was poised with readiness and tension and her legs spread before her like a cat, so elongated that they appeared unnatural. She was no fool to the terms of entering herself into the meat market, clearly exasperated with the idea of having to wait stupidly in the snares of the claiming grounds like a naïve child begging for food. There was no remorse in her eyes and they sparkled with a challenge that was irresistible to the butchers who worked the land, only taking breaks when hunger or rest had deemed them incapable.

She was a vibrant creature, painted with the sands along the ocean shoreline that were only affected by the careless banter of the tidal current. Scintillating amethyst jewels possessed her eyes, tinting her vision in a lavender shadow. Her heritage was sound and her tenement was swollen with prime features that started with an elegantly dished face from her mother and a rounded back from her father. It was easy to get lost in the charcoal threads that fooled the eye into discoursing its pass from the present to dream of contrived alliances with the mare, despite her cool aggressions. She was sick with artistry, her canvas a clear masterpiece of distinct delicacy, but no one would find their way to ingesting such a cuisine without dubious attempts of valor to earn their merit in her eyes. It was not easy to win a heart that was clearly not securable.

[Ooc: Trying to test out Ailith, I hope she turned out well... X.x]


Joran Posts: N/A
Unregistered
:: :: ::
#2

J ö R A N
incredible, isn't it, how we tend to recall the most sad memories over the good ones? of course, i still try to remember those good times...


Dear Ailith,
Joran's lids were closed. His mind was no longer thinking. His rippling muscles and strong, handsome, yet plain features, his active body, they were all deep in the clutches of sleep and slumber, two things needed for every horse, no matter how active, how strong, how healthy that horse is. Especially active horses need much, much rest. And Joran was making sure he was getting his fair share of much-needed rest, although he was not tired at all. The wandering storyteller, seeming like a bandit who wandered the shadows, filling the lands with his fantasy songs and stories, bright music, tales of heroes and gods, as spry as he was, for his twelve years of age, one would think him dull and always tired at first glance, but oh, the wonderful stories the adventerous stallion could tell, his smooth, silky voice ringing as clear as Christmas bells, when one heard him, they would put all doubts aside. Suddenly Joran's eyes flashed open, his intense, serious green eyes scanning the forest-like area around him, Helovia's Threshold. The storyteller stallion began to move, hoping to find someone else, for he was beginning to feel lonely. Up ahead he saw a mare, quite beautiful. He decided to confront her. So Joran increased his speed, striped legs working furiously, pounding the earth and turning up soil, but mostly snow. The grullo stallion finally caught up to the mare, and he lowered his head in submission to her, trying to act like a gentleman, his brown and earthy green spiraled horn turned towards the ground. He did not smile, he remained serious and controlled. "Hello, madam," he said, his voice smooth and silky, although not near like when he was telling stories. "I am Joran."

Sincerely, Joran.




Ailith Posts: 47
Deceased
Mare :: Equine :: 15.0 HH :: 8
Adoptable
#3

No matter what we breed, we are still made of greed
This is my kindom come, this is my kindom come


The sky had darkened into a thick blue that reminded her to the sea, however, it was none like its alter exterior. At times, she longed to plunge headlong into the waves and disappear into the depths of something far greater than she. Her soul was freeborn and yet it was locked away within this fleshy tower, much like a damsel in distress. However, she would never claim such a title of endearment due her ever-growing sense of independence. It was one that radiated from her core and burned outward like a halo of purity that defined the innocence of her very essence. And yet, she did not feel pure, instead she felt tainted, walking the endless earth, dead and rotting from all things impure.

This pondering had led her to the refuge of the beauty within The Threshold, even though it held no such figurative candle to the blinding realities of a heaven she would never know. The snow had begun in her absence of mind and it was a curing remedy to her empty heart as she watched it flutter to the hard ground like small fairies dancing one last time before crashing into the fiery pits of a hell that doomed their very existence. All things in Helovia were a contradiction to the lives depicted in the proverbial creation of earth. Winged horses and Dragons, Unicorns and magical talents; they were all gathered her in a realm that she liked to refer to as purgatory, all existing hand in hand between the worlds that were destined to remain separate for an eternity. These creatures were never to grace reality due to the protective regulations of the Gods and at times while she was thankful for their total control, she questioned their incentives.

In losing herself to such revelations, she had missed the stallion’s approach but if she had been startled by him, she was able to hide it well enough. Large lavender eyes laced their heavy gaze upon the boy before narrowing in slight discomfort. The creature was none like she, bearing a twisted horn upon his face that resembled a dagger tinged with a leafy green. A slight scowl graced her perfect lips at the sight of him, a clear abomination to her worldly definition of right and wrong. Equines were designed to be created equal and while she knew that this Unicorn had no power over his race or species, the idea of him sent shivers coursing down her thin spine. He was an illegitimate example of all things unreal and for that she hated him. Her words were held sharp upon her tongue until she was able to contain her own animosity and shadow it with warm welcome.

I am Ailith.” This sentiment was said curtly, as she fought back the urge to turn away from his company. However, the Grullo was given the benefit of the doubt and while the small mare cringed at the thought of his mere existence, she could not send him away. This was a world of equality and while she often did not agree, there was nothing she could do to avoid the racial tensions that would plague her throughout her lifetime without isolating herself entirely.

[W/C: 538]
[OOC: She's racist o.0]


Ailith Posts: 47
Deceased
Mare :: Equine :: 15.0 HH :: 8
Adoptable
#4
Bump <3


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