the Rift


Untouchable

Djinn Posts: N/A
Unregistered
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#1
Djinn

No one rejects, dislikes, or avoids pleasure itself, because it is pleasure.


In the first light of dawn, the silence was deafening. Shadows only reluctantly released their hold on icy branches, shying away from the faint light that somehow managed to penetrate a blanket of clouds. Like a lid it veiled the sky, refusing the approach of the sun and trapping a biting cold against the ground.
Not many things were awake this early. The song birds that normally would have roused and began their morning concert during any other season had left long ago, escaped toward the south in search of warmth and light. Maybe they found it, maybe not. In their wake they left an eerie stillness, to be filled by the horrid caws of starving corvids that fluttered from tree to tree. Beady black eyes would watch anything that passed, questioningly, hungrily. Hoping for a violent fall, a sudden cry, a painful end. They would come then, arrive in two by two's like parishioners for a funeral to clear up the mess with sharp beaks and tearing claws. The shadows seemed darker then, accompanied by the sound of ripping flesh and dripping liquid, as crimson stained the snow and spread the scent of metal and salt through the air.

But if no one fell, if no cry rang out in alarm and no pain was felt as the end approached, the forest would remain silent, as it was now. The crows would keep starving for a while yet, ever watching the lonely passerby that seemed so unaffected by their emotionless stare.

Overall there was very little that affected the figure that moved through the forest. The chill of winter could not touch him, for the gray coat that covered the sturdy body was thick and full, more than enough to stave off the lethal bite that claimed so many lives. As if to prove his dominion over the weather the young stallion raised the knees high above the snow and set them down again forcefully, a proud and elegant stride that allowed nothing to stand in his way. The tracks left in his wake were deep and hollow, pockmarks on the pristine face of the forest floor after the latest snowfall.

Not like that faced him either. With the way the small ears pricked forth and the neck arched, it looked like he was quite enjoying himself where he went, even though the high stride must take its toll even on those well developed muscles. Maybe it was because of how he blended into the scenery with the pale gray body and shadowy black tassels, that caused a lopsided grin to perch on mercury lips. Maybe it was simply youth speaking - everyone knows that youngsters live in a world of their own, following their own unwritten rules. Might as well not even bother to guess why the handsome young stallion with the crystal horn walked forward with such fervor, as if the treasure at rainbow's end lay revealed somewhere up ahead. Maybe it did. Not all treasures are silver and gold.

Nor is there anyone who loves or pursues or desires to obtain pain of itself, because it is pain.

Ascended Helovian

Ophelia the Amaranthine Posts: 701
Outcast atk: 6.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 7
Mare :: Hybrid :: 16.0 hh :: 6 Years HP: 77 | Buff: BULK
Tinek :: Royal Silver Dragon :: Frost Breath & Shock Breath Tamme
#2


Tinek spotted the grey figure below with hawkish, crimson eyes, circling overhead like a vulture. The prey beneath was plenty alive, ebony pinions churning the snow with a practiced ease, and the silver beast with toothy, ivory maw dove, already pushing these images into his bond-mate's bind, ignoring her slight protest as the dragon's warning. He longed to be able to communicate with her more deeply, but alas, his mind was unable to form the words of her own language. Silly, deer-like creature needed to learn dragon, but her ears were ignorant to the guttural slurs and cries from his own throat.

Ophelia narrowed her gaze in minor irritation as he landed on her withers roughly, his claws digging into her hide without breaking skin. She snorted a puff of white frost and continued on her forward path; why Tinek did not like this grey and black male was beyond her comprehension, and she was under the impression that any Thresholder would not risk jeopardizing their future by attacking her. One day, she would be horribly, violently wrong.

Strong, white light illuminated her right side, casting a dancing glow upon her pristine coat and dark, bloody light upon her crimson eye. The bitter chill brought curling steam wafting from her slender figure, and trapped by the light, it danced. A long, deep shadow followed her every movement as her cloven hooves carried her closer to this stranger. Ophelia paused, her pale figure almost perfectly blended with winter's blanket if not for her shadow and the blood on the fibers of her mane and tail. She watched the stallion curiously, turning her head to the side; an innocent and odd gesture. Heterochromatic eyes observed the strength in his gait as he assaulted the snow brutally with his hooves.

Did he look joyful? She thought he might. Unable to contain her curiosity, she trotted gracefully toward him, her cloven hooves carrying her easily over the snow. Unlike his own proud, purposeful gait, her own was subtle and elegant, an elongated stride that barely shifted the muscles beneath her hide. Upon closer inspection, the horn on his brow was almost transparent and not made of strengthened bone like her own pearly spear. The stallion was a curious being, and more than anything, she wanted to know his stories. Now that she had laid eyes on him, she would never forget, but something extra to go along with the picture always sated her need for knowledge... for awhile at least.

"Greetings," she called, her chime-like voice echoing through the otherwise quite forest. The young mare tossed her forelock to the side, revealing the oddity of her gaze. "I am Ophelia," she introduced as an afterthought. "From where do you arrive?" she asked, wondering if he was one of the mysterious Woodlanders from Isilme. Her mind would never let her birthplace die; all of their faces, voices, and the land would never be silent in her mind. Even now, she could hear the cry of the gulls overhead and smell the salt of the Tides.




COME TO ME
we run away forever from this misery

tangled-stock | Salsola stock




Undertow has come to take me. Guided by the blazing sun. Look at everything around us. Look at everything we've done.
Please. Anyone. I don't think I can save myself. I'm drowning.


Please tag me in every response!

Djinn Posts: N/A
Unregistered
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#3
Djinn

No one rejects, dislikes, or avoids pleasure itself, because it is pleasure.


Some encounters are fated. Other times things happen purely by chance. Sometimes when to people meet, it wouldn't have been strange for sparks to fly, trumpets sound and the very earth heave and coil from the impact and meaning resting behind it. At least, if one considered the actions of horses to be the driving force of the world, the main purpose for which it had taken shape.

It was unlikely that anything like that would happen now. After all, they were but two young unicorns, mere mortals who's fates had yet to be decided. The future lay before them, but nothing they did would probably be enough to stop the sun in its path or make the earth crumble. Probably.
He sort of looked like he was expecting something of the sort to happen though, as a twitching ear and slight turn of the head revealed his awareness of her presence. The pace of the high strides slowed, the course altered every so slightly to bring the stallion more in her direction. From beneath a thick dark lock of hair a pair of unsettling eyes regarded the slender lady, shimmering blue irises against a light devouring blackness competing with her own in luminescent eeriness.

An ear twitched as she presented herself, and with only a few feet left to spare between them the gray youngster halted, cocking the handsome head back as he studied her. It was the kind of open, scrutinizing assessment that only someone very confident in himself could make, as if he weighed her on a golden scale where you didn't know what the counter weight was made of. He took in the built of the mare, slender and lither than his own, assessed the height, that came short if his with more than a hand. Eyes went to the blood-tipped mane and the spiraled horn on her head, took in the dragon without revealing either surprise, recognition or fear. Mercury lips pursed, the judgment fell and before the silence had grown uncomfortably long, the young rouge offered the stranger a small, lopsided grin.

"And if I answered that question, what would you do with the knowledge?" He cocked the neck backwards, jerking the long mane away from the shoulder; revealing a lightning-shaped mark so coldly blue colored that it was hard to spot in the light of the rising sun. "Would it change your opinion of me?" He slipped forward and reached out the nose toward the dragon perching on her back, curiosity apparently enough to make him disregard things like personal space.

Nor is there anyone who loves or pursues or desires to obtain pain of itself, because it is pain.

Ascended Helovian

Ophelia the Amaranthine Posts: 701
Outcast atk: 6.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 7
Mare :: Hybrid :: 16.0 hh :: 6 Years HP: 77 | Buff: BULK
Tinek :: Royal Silver Dragon :: Frost Breath & Shock Breath Tamme
#4


Too many faces, voices, and distant memories that swirled forever preserved in her mind made Ophelia a skeptic when it came to fate and the will of the gods. Though she adhered more to the light side of life (in magic, not morals), she knew that her decisions would effect the elegantly woven fabric of life and the stitching of the future. All meetings were meaningful, but statistics and numbers argued against any one meeting being more important than another. Only a handful of her confidants had lived, and even fewer remained constant.

Perhaps that was why Ophelia could encounter so many and watch as they made their lives with others, that and a poorly filled ego. However, something about the brightness of the winter's light filtering through the barren trees casting a halo of white around the stallion was deeper than usual, if she were truly thinking about meetings. The way he moved through the snow slowed to the point of being dramatic, but nothing seemed ostentatious about the way he turned one of his darkened auds in her direction or turned his body toward her own.

Phi tried to shake the feeling (knowing that her feelings rarely ever wound her up in favorable places), and she watched with her odd gaze as his own ran over her lithe figure. The scrutiny in his crystal eyes was not quite unnerving but interesting; she wondered why he had reason to observe her so intimately. Ophelia returned the favor, memorizing every detail down to the black backdrop of his bright eyes to the blue veins running down his withers and peeking out beneath a wave of ebony mane. Tinek's expression remained apathetic save for a slight narrowing of his crimson eyes, watching for any twitch of the stallions muscles that might prove dangerous to his bond-mate.

Grey lips moved from pursed to a grin, a grin which Ophelia barely reacted to. A gift or a curse was never allowed a special place without denying the natural ability of something else. Social normalcy, sympathetic nervous response, and general regard for behavior was cast aside in place of her flawless memories. So, she cocked her head at an angle as her odd eyes slid to his own odd blues. A shift of his shoulder revealed the markings in even more obvious uniqueness, and she lifted her neck to settle comfortable on high, angled withers.

"I do now know you," she replied evenly, her delicate voice carrying no indication of her judgement. "I have no judgement to pass." The stallion leaned forward, and Ophelia furrowed her brows curiously before realizing that he was trying to nose Tinek. A simple, red picture of anger and irritation jolted into her bind from their bond, and he growled deeply, crawling upon her crown to settled between to elegantly tipped ears. He opened his maw and puffed a threat of frost, warning the stallion not to try anything with his bond-mate. Why Tinek was so wary of the stallion, Ophelia had no idea. From what she gleaned from his mind, he had no logical reason to dislike the grey.

"Have you already passed judgment on me with but a gaze and a few words?" she asked, not accusingly, but curiously. She was interested in others and they normal ways.




COME TO ME
we run away forever from this misery

tangled-stock | Salsola stock




Undertow has come to take me. Guided by the blazing sun. Look at everything around us. Look at everything we've done.
Please. Anyone. I don't think I can save myself. I'm drowning.


Please tag me in every response!

Djinn Posts: N/A
Unregistered
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#5
Djinn

No one rejects, dislikes, or avoids pleasure itself, because it is pleasure.


A slight tension in the muscles of the arched neck would on closer inspection reveal a preparedness to quickly withdraw, should the silver-scaled lizard choose to lash out against the nose that reached for it. But as the dragon retreated up between his owners ears instead of becoming violent, the lips of the stallion twisted into a slight grin, as if the reaction amused him. He pulled back slightly, attention returning to the somewhat younger mare while a brow raised at both her question and statement.

"Of course you have" he said with a matter-of-fact tone as if it was common sense. "There's no one who doesn't form an opinion, no matter how feeble or incorrect, as soon as two paths have crossed. Just like I have made an assessment of you, you have been assessing me, and by doing so you are already deciding a lot of simple things for yourself." The casual look on the face didn't disappear, but the glance he gave her was sharp and held a keen intellect that many would have found surprising, considering how most viewed young stallions with clearly developed muscles. Brawns, no brain. It just wasn't always true.

"But aside from the fact that I actually do have both passed judgment and have a place where I come from, I don't feel like sharing that kind of information with a stranger. It doesn't matter to you, so you don't need to know." Again, a sense of complete and utter faith in himself seemed to radiate from the unicorn, expressed as much through the bluntness of the words as the arc drawn by the thick neck, the ears that remained pricked forward and the manner in which he met her gaze, unwavering. He wasn't trying to be rude, but simply stated his opinion without caring how she chose to receive it. It wasn't in his nature to wrap things in cotton - much like light itself, he declared and clarified, revealed and unraveled.

For a moment he locked her gaze with his own and held it, exuding nothing but willpower and strength - then he blinked and shifted, a hoof lifting to tap on the pale surface of the snow that littered the ground.

"Let's talk about something more interesting" he suggested, easily discarding the discussion as it began to grow boring. "Like, why a pretty young girl is standing vigil in a deserted forest before the sun has even come up completely. Yes, lets talk about that." The smile returned, and with it his attention seemed to waver somewhat, as if he wasn't entirely interested even in his own choice of topic.

Nor is there anyone who loves or pursues or desires to obtain pain of itself, because it is pain.

Ascended Helovian

Ophelia the Amaranthine Posts: 701
Outcast atk: 6.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 7
Mare :: Hybrid :: 16.0 hh :: 6 Years HP: 77 | Buff: BULK
Tinek :: Royal Silver Dragon :: Frost Breath & Shock Breath Tamme
#6


Ophelia raised a brow in return as he contradicted her words so blatantly. She curiously watched him now, seeing his self-confidence had a keen wit to back it up without seeming stupidly arrogant. "I assessed and observed, but I did not venture to assume beyond what my eyes saw," she replied in her usual, quiet tones. "Your body holds strength, so you have either trained or come a long way. You stand taller than I, making overpowering me a seemingly simple task. I noticed the strange, veined markings on your shoulder and how your eyes seem to be held in darkness. Your coloring is different, but I hold no opinion of these truths either way." The mare smiled with an undefinable emotion. "Much can be assumed, but the last time I ventured to pretend I knew more than I did, I found myself in a bind."

After asking the stallion whether or not he had formed an opinion of her based on his own assessment, she listened curiously, both ears tilted forward and brushing against the sides of her growing, young beast whose crimson eyes never wavered from their vigilant watch. He told her that his birth place did not matter to her, but oh, he was wrong; it did matter. Knowing was a need like a drug that needed to be used and fixed before plunging into the aching desire once more. However, she patiently held his gaze and did not waver from her soft curiosity, her smile only deepening as he held his secrets. Ophelia respected the mystery and the challenge; one day she would know. She could know now, if she so desired; such a simple task it would be to dig past the barriers of his mind and delve into the memories of his childhood.

Though tempting, she refrained. Heterochromatic eyes returned his gaze with depth and unwavering oddity until blinked and lifted a strong, ebony hoof to strike at the ground, and her gaze trailed back up his muscular legs, chest and arched neck before winding back at his blue, demon's eyes. More interesting? What could possibly be more interesting than a past she did not know? Even he did not seem all that interested in his own question, and his opinion that she was pretty and young both reaffirmed her suspicion that he had assumed much about her personage. She wondered if she would disappoint.

"I await refugees from the destruction of my homeland in the hopes that I may put to rest faces in my memories," she replied honestly, her features dimming as she gazed over the stallion's shoulder in the direction of Isilme. "In the process, I recruit a few into a band my sister and I have formed, and others, I ferry to other herdlands." Ophelia shifted in the snow and blinked long lashes before settling a much darker gaze on the young stallion. "Would I be venturing too deeply into your mind to ask what you intend to accomplish in this new land or where you desire to wander?" she asked with a slight smirk, wondering what cards were held close to his chest and which were open for view. Just like his, her words were in no way patronizing, but honest.




COME TO ME
we run away forever from this misery

tangled-stock | Salsola stock




Undertow has come to take me. Guided by the blazing sun. Look at everything around us. Look at everything we've done.
Please. Anyone. I don't think I can save myself. I'm drowning.


Please tag me in every response!

Djinn Posts: N/A
Unregistered
:: :: ::
#7
Djinn

No one rejects, dislikes, or avoids pleasure itself, because it is pleasure.


A small twitch at the corner of the mouth was the only reaction he gave to her claim, mostly because he had already abandoned the topic. Some other time might see them readdress the topic, if their roads didn't cross only to part again without intertwining, but for now her words were left uncontested. The horned stallion did however seem a little surprised at how readily she gave in, and watched her with mild curiosity as she answered the question. Honesty was not generally a common trait among travelers, as too many had things to hide from themselves and the eyes of the world. He had always been an exception to the rule, and now as he was faced with one that spoke in a manner rather similar to himself - but without the rude bluntness - the traveler appeared puzzled.

"I know I did ask, but.. why do you tell me that so easily?" The head tilted to the side in apparent bewilderment, clearly not used to being trusted so easily. Be it as it may that the information didn't seem overly important, it was still information that a shrewder mind wouldn't hesitate to try and use against the girl. The young unicorn shook the head slowly, as if thinking her naive if not foolish, but accepted her words for what they were anyway. Questions welled up from the darkness of the eyes, revealed as the gleaming orbs quietly regarded Ophelia and her silver companion. "A band, huh. A band of what, exactly? Mysterious Mares Anonymous?" A slight glitter of humor took the edge of the remark, softening it with a brief display of humor.

When she asked her own question, the black-blazed horse grew silent for a moment, the smile slipping from his maw. Thinking, he let moments pass before looking up at the mare again, shoulders rolling in a slight shrug.
"Sure, I don't see why not. I'd love to tell you, but I'm actually not quite sure myself. Some things happened a while ago, rather unimportant and nothing to note, but I thought I should try to find something to occupy myself with. Haven't thought about what it might be yet." It was an answer vague enough to annoy most people, something he probably was keenly aware of already. It wouldn't be strange for him to use such a manner of speech to tease someone into a bad temper, but it wasn't entirely unlikely that he really had no clear goals.

The true meaning of the phrasing, however, was hard to miss. No goals, no expectations, thus the lad was likely to go along with anything that caught his interest. First come, first serve.

Nor is there anyone who loves or pursues or desires to obtain pain of itself, because it is pain.

Ascended Helovian

Ophelia the Amaranthine Posts: 701
Outcast atk: 6.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 7
Mare :: Hybrid :: 16.0 hh :: 6 Years HP: 77 | Buff: BULK
Tinek :: Royal Silver Dragon :: Frost Breath & Shock Breath Tamme
#8


Ophelia saw the bewilderment in his eyes and tilted her head just a little more, wondering what she had said that had befuddled his secretive mind. She furrowed her brows gently, the white hairs making little wrinkled furrows above her luminous, strange eyes. "Why not?" she asked with a small smile. "The truth has its way of being known, and would rather be on the right side of it once the light hits. Phi paused as if to weigh her words. "I still keep my secrets, but what could you possibly gain from this to use to my disadvantage? You know my location. You know my home was destroyed. Many stories are born from tragedy. What I said, my words are nothing special, nothing... unique." No, what was unique, she continued to keep well hidden. A silver tongue and a spin of words would keep her secret safe while dancing through a conversation.

The young, pale mare could not help but snort in amusement as he asked if her group with her sister was "mysterious mares", and she chuckled her bell-like amusement for a few moments. Oh, he was horrible and terribly far from the truth. "My sister and I lead a band of mercenaries, spies, healers and poisoners," she replied with a tight smirk and a shake of her head. "We are called the Grey, because we do not align with dark nor light, but reality." The stark contrast of a playful band of mares to killers, murderers, spies and general bluntness of her truth hung in the air between them like the frost on their breath.

Phi watched his normally amusement stricken features turn somber as he turned his gaze from beyond to within, and she stood patiently, only the wind rustling her fur and bloody tail. When he did reply, she patiently lifted a brow and nodded, respecting his privacy though the curiosity was fast becoming a monster that rattled her eager mind. Still, he was obviously a wanderer, looking anything new and interesting. She understood that mindset to a degree, though she got her kick of the new drug by exploring other's minds. "You are welcome to join the Grey, if you wish," she replied with a small smile. Phi missed the not knowing, the discovering, but she would not trade that for what she had now. "We meet in the Deep Forest, south of here, if you ever wander our direction."




COME TO ME
we run away forever from this misery

tangled-stock | Salsola stock




Undertow has come to take me. Guided by the blazing sun. Look at everything around us. Look at everything we've done.
Please. Anyone. I don't think I can save myself. I'm drowning.


Please tag me in every response!

Djinn Posts: N/A
Unregistered
:: :: ::
#9
Djinn

No one rejects, dislikes, or avoids pleasure itself, because it is pleasure.


There was nothing wrong with her logic, but the stallion still didn't seem entirely convinced. A lingering expression of puzzlement remained on his features even after he shrugged the matter to the side - another topic to discuss at a different time. He shifted where he stood, changing weight pressing the dark-hoofed legs deeper into the layer of snow that covered the ground. The long tail flicked with a swishing sound, releasing thin crystals into the air that glittered when struck by the light of the sun. It was growing brighter by the minute, and as the darkness receded the forest slowly began to wake up. Squirrels chattered as they moved between barren branches, a flow of magpies came swooping in and settled into a nearby tree, their black and white feathering stark and clearly visible against a sky where clouds began to lift. It looked to be a beautiful day, one of those rare sunlit ones where the entire world looked to be made of precious gems and glittering crystals.

The conversation between the two gray-coated unicorns didn't quite match the beauty of the dawning day. The words of the mare brought an aftertaste of death and despair, and the demon-eyed rover once again measured her with that glimmering blue-black gaze. This time the counterweight of the scale was clearly whatever opinion he had made before; a slight twitch at the corners of the lips revealed him somewhat amused at the revelation. She certainly didn't look like a mercenary. The lithe frame and graceful posture rather brought the image of a dancer, or perhaps a messenger swift and endurable, running across the land carrying the will of herd leaders and generals. Instead of a treasured damsel locked away behind borders of a heard-land though, she was tracking down refugees, dirtying her horn with assassinations and wading through the murky underground where no light shone. The Gray? A suitable name, befitting someone in such a position.

"I'm impressed" he said, surprised but seemingly not disturbed by the revelation. "Think me prejudiced if you will, but I always thought that most mares preferred to stay with a herd and raise kids. Those who chose the path of bloodshed seemed to be contradictions to the general rule..." This time the glance he gave her was curious instead of scrutinizing, as if he were watching a puzzle and itched to solve it. The expression deepened as she offered him to join the group, the ever present grin widened and with a slightly theatrical look of thoughtfulness he considered the offer.

"I have a feeling that sticking to you is going to be very, very interesting" he said after a moment. "Alright, if you're willing to take in a complete stranger then I don't mind joining forces. I'll watch your back anytime you need it." With that the stallion relaxed, muscles smoothing out and the posture deflating just a tiny bit - so small a change but enough to reveal that he had been tensed and ready for anything up until now.

"Ophelia, was it? My name is Djinn, son of Querida the LightningQueen and Nato the Ninja, hailing from the Mystic Woodlands in the land of Isilme. It's a pleasure to meet you." He dipped the head in a courteous bow, before shifting the weight and moving the feet forward, the bulky body towering over hers as he came closer. For a moment it looked as though he was about to walk into her - no he did walk into her. But there was no impact, no clash of skin against skin, flesh against flesh. Silent and intangible as a whisper the massive unicorn slipped through the smaller mare and came out on her other side, offering a slight wink with an eye along with a wide grin - he seemed rather pleased with himself. "Guess I'll be at your beck and call from now on."


Nor is there anyone who loves or pursues or desires to obtain pain of itself, because it is pain.

Ascended Helovian

Ophelia the Amaranthine Posts: 701
Outcast atk: 6.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 7
Mare :: Hybrid :: 16.0 hh :: 6 Years HP: 77 | Buff: BULK
Tinek :: Royal Silver Dragon :: Frost Breath & Shock Breath Tamme
#10


The harsh light of winter reflecting from the white blanket of snow was beginning to soften as the sun rose in the sky. A once quiet forest was filling with the eager chattering of creatures and the cry of birds overhead. Achromatic magpies made purchase on the a nearby tree, arguing over something nonsensical in a musical way. Everything the light touched seemed to refract in a glorious array of colors or brightness, arming the land in precious, transient diamonds. The only darkness that hung in the vicinity were Ophelia's words that held violence in a frosted breath and tainted with laughter. Save for the bloody crimson of her fibrous hair, the worst hung in stark contrast to her lithe, pristine form as well. The paradox was obvious and ironic. Not all that glitters is gold.

The stallion did not seem perturbed by her admittance but rather surprised. How could he be judgmental of her choices with blue orbs bathing in blackness? From appearance alone, he was every bit as willing to kiss the midnight dream as she. He was right, though; she was an exception to the general rule. "True. I have no interest in bearing children," she stated, admitting this truth to herself and to him in tandem. The darkness of my father's line must come to and end, and I would never wish the curse of my mind upon a child. But her father's line would never end. Hototo carried the blood of Riekahn, as did her twin brothers. Skeletons never remained in the closet; rather, they enjoyed dancing just in your periphery, mocking.

His eyes seemed to scrutinize her, as if staring deep enough into her odd orbs would shift the puzzle enough for him to gain a mental purchase on the mystery. Would he discover something in the crimson and blue? The grin on his lips made the expression almost wicked, and she waited patiently for his reply, surprised by his agreement. She honestly expected him to tell her to go to hell or something of the sort - with his patented grin of half mocking, of course. A smile moved across her lips. "Welcome to the Grey," she said, all too pleased to have a new addition to their merry band of killers and spies.

The stallion seemed to relax, so Tinek calmed on Ophelia's head, snorting once and closing his eyes as if bored. When he introduced himself, saying that he was from the Woodlands, her eyes widened, and she felt the shock of her past jolt through her spine. Then, she narrowed her eyes slightly, though he had no reason to lie. When he bowed, she continued to watch him, his entire persona becoming even more mysterious than before. Djinn moved closer, and she raised a brow, looking up at him as he towered over her figure, and Tinek growled in warning. He was a breath away, and she could feel the heat of his body warming her own fur. She prepared for the collision and a possible fight, tensing her figure and laying her ears in warning against her skull, but no impact came.

He walked through her. The stallion walked through her as if she was nothing more than a spirit from another world. Both of her ears perked forward again as he winked, and she snorted in amusement, shaking her head. "Useful trick," she commented, relaxing her body once more. Tinek huffed. "The Grey typically meets in the Deep Forest. I would tell you to have fun, but I doubt you need that reminder."

Ophelia paused then and furrowed her brows. "I was born on the Tides of Isilme," she said. "Did you see any survivors?"




COME TO ME
we run away forever from this misery

tangled-stock | Salsola stock




Undertow has come to take me. Guided by the blazing sun. Look at everything around us. Look at everything we've done.
Please. Anyone. I don't think I can save myself. I'm drowning.


Please tag me in every response!

Djinn Posts: N/A
Unregistered
:: :: ::
#11
Djinn

No one rejects, dislikes, or avoids pleasure itself, because it is pleasure.


The lack of reaction didn't please him. Lips drooped for a moment, ears twitching back into a miffed expression - then he caught himself and immediately was back to the same old unreadable (not) Djinn, puffing up the chest and grinning like a fool. It was a nifty trick indeed, and to him it was second nature.

"I was born with this gift" he revealed, stepping aside to give the lady some more space but remaining by her side as if it was the most natural thing in the world. "I've been told that the first time I stood and tried to drink mothers milk, I tripped and fell right through her. No one can beat me in tag, just saying..." A self-mocking look of exaggerated pride was accompanied of a cloud of frozen breath as he huffed, trying to make himself look as impressive as possible. Ever the jester, he did his best to make Ophelia laugh - there was a hint of determination hiding behind the glittering eyes. He was not one to give up easily, once his mind was set.

The crimson-stained murder princess seemed to have her thoughts elsewhere though, and with some of the worst hot air escaping, the boy deflated a few inches and returned the slightly more serious look as she asked about the Tides. A hesitant pause was followed by a sigh, then the crystal horn drew winter blue lines in the air as Djinn shook his head.
"Sorry, I can't help you there. As a child I never ventured beyond the Woodlands because of the war, and when my parents and Windrunner left I followed with them. It's been years since I set foot in Isilme." The sooted nose reached out and nudged her shoulder in silent sympathy, honestly regretting that there were nothing he could tell her.

Not sure whether she was saddened by the news - or lack thereof - the big rover gave Ophelia a moment to process, but soon broke the silence again.
"Look... Dark Forest, you said? Where can I find that? I confess myself ignorant on the geography of this area. Where exactly have I ended up?" It was a not so fine hint that more explanations were in order. Geography, herds, their own affiliations - he knew nothing about it, and would most likely remain ignorant until someone chose to tell him. Someone, being Ophelia in this case. It might prove helpful, so that he didn't accidentally off the wrong person... That could get messy.

Nor is there anyone who loves or pursues or desires to obtain pain of itself, because it is pain.

Ascended Helovian

Ophelia the Amaranthine Posts: 701
Outcast atk: 6.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 7
Mare :: Hybrid :: 16.0 hh :: 6 Years HP: 77 | Buff: BULK
Tinek :: Royal Silver Dragon :: Frost Breath & Shock Breath Tamme
#12


Keen eyes caught onto the subtle shift of his features. He was disappointed. Why? She would have to find out soon enough. Something about him, perhaps his mannerisms, left him a mystery that her curiosity would not allow her to let go. Ophelia listened to his explanation about his magic, finding the story about him tumbling right through his mom rather humorous. Djinn received his laugh. Amusement bubbled from her throat, and she snorted a little, a smile working over her lips and tipping her ears forward. "I shall remember to watch out for you in games of tag," she replied with a laugh, remembering her childhood. She and Ktulu never played games. Her sister was born with crooked legs, and Phi spent her years shouldering Ktulu's burden with loyalty and love.

Refracted blue painted the trees and snow when the stallion shook his head, and Ophelia's expression set hard. He had been born in Isilme just before her father had arrived then, and she grit her teeth to hide her emotion, ears tilting to the side as if in anger. A sharp nod was all that she could manage for the moment before sliding her harsh gaze to the gray stallion. "Do not return," she warned. "Nothing but darkness lives there now. We all fled. The battle was lost before we had a chance to fight." The tone of her voice slid to a quiet seriousness, settled between the trees like a blanket of lead.

Djinn's question about geography was a welcome reprieve from the memories that destroyed her mind, and she tilted her ears, hesitantly, toward the front. Ophelia searched her mind, gathering the mental map she had made. To a cartographer, it would be nearly flawless, detailing ever small precipice or inlet along the coast and every rising mountain. "Directly south of here will take you to the deep forest. When you find the pool of bloody water, you will know you have arrived. The trees are thicker and the snow a little more dense. My sister will be there."

As her cloven hooves carried her forward, she glanced to the side. "Should you continue moving due west, you will find yourself traveling through the Thistle Meadow to the Endless Blue. Due South is the Dragon's Throat. Due North is the Frostbreath Steppe. I rather like it there..." she commented, her expression distant as she relayed the information. With a small sigh and a rush of white, Ophelia paused and gazed through the trees. "I have a few... errands to run," she said with a small smirk.




COME TO ME
we run away forever from this misery

tangled-stock | Salsola stock




Undertow has come to take me. Guided by the blazing sun. Look at everything around us. Look at everything we've done.
Please. Anyone. I don't think I can save myself. I'm drowning.


Please tag me in every response!


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